The plant-lore & garden-craft of Shakespeare Part 18

_Taming of the Shrew_, act i, sc. 2 (208).

(3) _Rosalind._

I' faith, his hair is of a good colour.

_Celia._

An excellent colour; your Chestnut was ever the only colour.

_As You Like It_, act iii, sc. 4 (11).

This is the Spanish or Sweet Chestnut, a fruit which seems to have been held in high esteem in Shakespeare's time, for Lyte, in 1578, says of it, "Amongst all kindes of wilde fruites the Chestnut is best and meetest for to be eaten." The tree cannot be regarded as a true native, but it has been so long introduced, probably by the Romans, that grand specimens are to be found in all parts of England; the oldest known specimen being at Tortworth, in Gloucestershire, which was spoken of as an old tree in the time of King Stephen; while the tree that is said to be the oldest and the largest in Europe is the Spanish Chestnut tree on Mount Etna, the famous Castagni du Centu Cavalli, which measures near the root 160 feet in circ.u.mference. It is one of our handsomest trees, and very useful for timber, and at one time it was supposed that many of our oldest buildings were roofed with Chestnut. This was the current report of the grand roof at Westminster Hall, but it is now discovered to be of Oak, and it is very doubtful whether the Chestnut timber is as lasting as it has long been supposed to be.

The Horse Chestnut was probably unknown to Shakespeare. It is an Eastern tree, and in no way related to the true Chestnut, and though the name has probably no connection with horses or their food, yet it is curious that the petiole has (especially when dry) a marked resemblance to a horse's leg and foot, and that both on the parent stem and the petiole may be found a very correct representation of a horseshoe with its nails.[55:1]

FOOTNOTES:

[55:1] For an excellent description of the great differences between the Spanish and Horse Chestnut, see "Gardener's Chronicle," Oct. 29, 1881.

CLOVER.

(1) _Burgundy._

The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth The freckled Cowslip, Burnet, and green Clover.

_Henry V_, act v, sc. 2 (48).

(2) _Tamora._

I will enchant the old Andronicus With words more sweet, and yet more dangerous, Than baits to fish, or Honey-stalks to sheep, When, as the one is wounded with the bait, The other rotted with delicious food.

_t.i.tus Andronicus_, act iv, sc. 4 (89).

"Honey-stalks" are supposed to be the flower of the Clover. This seems very probable, but I believe the name is no longer applied. Of the Clover there are two points of interest that are worth notice. The Clover is one of the plants that claim to be the Shamrock of St.

Patrick. This is not a settled point, and at the present day the Woodsorrel is supposed to have the better claim to the honour. But it is certain that the Clover is the "clubs" of the pack of cards. "Clover" is a corruption of "Clava," a club. In England we paint the Clover on our cards and call it "clubs," while in France they have the same figure, but call it "trefle."

CLOVES.

_Biron._

A Lemon.

_Longaville._

Stuck with Cloves.

_Love's Labour's Lost_, act v, sc. 2 (633).[56:1]

As a mention of a vegetable product, I could not omit this pa.s.sage, but the reference is only to the imported spice and not to the tree from which then, as now, the Clove was gathered. The Clove of commerce is the unexpanded flower of the Caryophyllus aromaticus, and the history of its discovery and cultivation by the Dutch in Amboyna, with the vain attempts they made to keep the monopoly of the profitable spice, is perhaps the saddest chapter in all the history of commerce. See a full account with description and plate of the plant in "Bot. Mag.," vol. 54, No. 2749.

FOOTNOTES:

[56:1] "But then 'tis as full of drollery as ever it can hold; 'tis like an orange stuck with Cloves as for conceipt."--_The Rehearsal_, 1671, act iii, sc. 1.

c.o.c.kLE.

(1) _Biron._

Allons! allons! sowed c.o.c.kle reap'd no Corn.

_Love's Labour's Lost_, act iv, sc. 3 (383).

(2) _Coriola.n.u.s._

We nourish 'gainst our senate The c.o.c.kle of rebellion, insolence, sedition, Which we ourselves have plough'd for, sow'd, and scatter'd, By mingling them with us.

_Coriola.n.u.s_, act iii, sc. 1 (69).

In Shakespeare's time the word "c.o.c.kle" was becoming restricted to the Corn-c.o.c.kle (_Lychnis githago_), but both in his time, and certainly in that of the writers before him, it was used generally for any noxious weed that grew in corn-fields, and was usually connected with the Darnel and Tares.[57:1] So Gower--

"To sowe c.o.c.kel with the Corn So that the tilthe is nigh forlorn, Which Crist sew first his owne hond-- Now stant the c.o.c.kel in the lond Where stood whilom the G.o.de greine, For the prelats now, as men sain, For slouthen that they shoulden tille."

_Confessio Amantis_, lib. quintus (2-190, Paulli).

Latimer has exactly the same idea: "Oh, that our prelates would bee as diligent to sowe the corne of goode doctrine as Sathan is to sow c.o.c.kel and Darnel." . . . "There was never such a preacher in England as he (the devil) is. Who is able to tel his dylygent preaching? which every daye and every houre laboreth to sowe c.o.c.kel and Darnel" (Latimer's Fourth Sermon). And to the same effect Spenser--

"And thus of all my harvest-hope I have Nought reaped but a weedie crop of care, Which when I thought have thresht in swelling sheave, c.o.c.kle for corn, and chaff for barley bare."

The c.o.c.kle or Campion is said to do mischief among the Wheat, not only, as the Poppy and other weeds, by occupying room meant for the better plant, but because the seed gets mixed with the corn, and then "what hurt it doth among corne, the spoyle unto bread, as well in colour, taste, and unwholsomness is better known than desired." So says Gerard, but I do not know how far modern experience confirms him. It is a pity the plant has so bad a character, for it is a very handsome weed, with a fine blue flower, and the seeds are very curious objects under the microscope, being described as exactly like a hedgehog rolled up.[58:1]

FOOTNOTES: