918 ARBORETUM AND FRUTICETUM, PART ML 
every plantation, where the harbouring of singing-birds is an object. In the 
Scottish Highlands, Gilpin observes, “ it becomes a considerable tree. There, 
on some rocky mountains, covered with dark pines and waving birch, which cast 
a solemn gloom over the lake below, a few mountain ashes joining in a clump, 
and mixing with them, have a fine effect. In summer, the light green tint of 
their foliage, and, in autumn, the glowing berries which hang clustering upon 
them, contrast beautifully with the deeper green of the pines; and, if they 
are happily blended, and not in too large a proportion, they add some of the 
most picturesque furniture with which the sides of those rugged mountains 
are invested.” (Gilpin’s Forest Scenery, vol. i. p.38.) In the grounds of 
suburban gardens in the neighbourhood of the metropolis, the mountain ash 
forms almost the only tree that makes a great display by means of its fruit ; 
for, though many species of Cratze\gus would be equally effective in this 
respect, they have not yet become sufficiently well known to the planters of 
such gardens, One great advantage of the mountain ash, in all gardens, is, 
that it never requires pruning, and never grows out of shape. 
Poetical and legendary Allusions. Ancient poets tell us that the Amazons 
of ancient mythology formed their spears of the wood of this tree; and 
Virgil mentions that its fruit was considered as sure to attract the thrush and 
blackbird to any grove where it grew. (Sylva Florifera, vol. i, p. 84. and p. 87.) 
In more modern times, it was considered a preservative against witchcraft ; 
an d Lightfoot, in his Flora Scotica, says, “ It is probable that this tree was 
in high esteem with the druids; for it may to this day be observed to grow 
more frequently than any other in the neighbourhood of those druidical 
circles of stones, so often seen in the north of Britain; and the superstitious 
still continue to retain a great veneration for it, which was undoubtedly 
handed down to them from early antiquity. They believe that any small 
part of this tree, carried about them, will prove a sovereign charm against all 
the dire effects of enchantments and witchcraft. Their cattle, also, as well as 
themselves, are supposed to be preserved by it from evil; for the dairy-maid 
will not forget to drive them to the shealings, or summer pastures, with a 
rod of the rowan tree, which she carefully lays up over the door of the 
sheal-boothy, or summer-house, and drives them home again with the same. 
In Strathspey they make, on the Ist of May, a hoop with the wood of this 
tree, and in the evening and morning cause the sheep and lambs to pass 
through it.” “ This superstitious belief,” Dr. Johnson, in his Flora of Ber- 
wick upon Tweed, remarks, “ prevailed also in Northumberland, but is pro- 
bably now extinct.” (vol. i. p.110.) That a belief in the supernatural virtues 
of this tree still prevails in Yorkshire appears from the following extract 
from a communication, by the celebrated author of the Wanderings, to the 
Mag. Nat. Hist.: —‘“ Whilst the fruit of the mountain ash affords a delicious 
autumnal repast to the storm cock, the branches which bear the berries are 
well known to be an effectual preservative against the devilish spells of witch- 
craft. In the village of Walton, I have two small tenants: the name of the 
one is James Simpson, and that of the other Sally Holloway; and Sally’s 
house stands a little before the house of Simpson. Some three months ago, 
I overtook Simpson on the turnpike road, and [ asked him if his cow was 
getting better, for his son had told me that she had fallen sick. ‘ She’s coming 
on surprisingly, Sir,’ quoth he ; ‘ the last time the cow-doctor came to see her, 
“ Jem,” said he to me, looking earnestly at Old Sally’s house; “ Jem,” said 
he, “ mind and keep your cow-house door shut before the sun goes down, 
otherwise I wo’n’t answer for what may happen to the cow.” “ Ay, ay, my 
lad,” said I, “ I understand your meaning; but I am up to the old slut, and I 
defy her to do me any harm now.” =‘ And what has Old Sally been doing to 
you, James?’ said I. ‘ Why, Sir,’ replied he, ‘ we all know too well what 
she can do. She has long owed me a grudge; and my cow, which was in 
very good health, fell sick immediately after Sally had been seen to look in at 
the door of the cow-house, just as night was coming on. The cow grew worse; 
and so I went and cut a bit of wiggin (mountain ash), and I nailed the 
ee 
