THE ROSE GARDEN. 17 



emblem of innocence and purity, made our forefathers shrink instinctively from 

 cherishing a flower that recalled to mind scenes or tales of carnage and of woe — 

 whose leaves were once saturated with the blood of England's bravest sons. 



It may not be considered out of place to give an account here of the origin of 

 the Red Rose in the arms of the House of Lancaster. About 1277, Guillaume 

 Pentecote, Mayor of Provins, was assassinated in a tumult; and the King of 

 France sent Count Egmond, son of the King of England, and who had assumed 

 the title of Comte De Champagne, to that city, to avenge his death. After 

 staying some time there, he returned to England, and took for his device the Red 

 Rose, which Thibaut, Comte De Brie, and De Champagne had brought from 

 Syria some years before, on his return from the Crusades. This Count Egmond 

 was the head of the House of Lancaster, and which preserved it in their arms. 

 (11 Ancien Provins, par Opoix.) 



The Damask Rose being the wild kind of Syria, it would hence appear that it 

 was this gave rise to the Red Rose of the Lancastrians, and not the French Rose, 

 as asserted by some. The White Rose was probably assumed by the Yorkists 

 in contradistinction to the other. 



Cbaucer, our first great English author, who wrote in the middle and toward 

 the close of the fourteenth century, alludes in his early pieces to the poetical 

 worship of the Rose and the Daisy. And others of our early poets were not 

 unmindful of its charms. Harrington speaks of cheeks that shamed the Rose ; 

 Marlow, of beds of Roses, &c. 



Spenser, whose genius sheds a brilliancy over the age in which he lived, makes 

 frequent mention of it. Every one is familiar with his fable of the Oak and the 

 Brier, contained in the Shepherd's Calendar. Of the latter he says — 



It was embellished with blossoms fail-, 



And thereto aye wonted to repair 



The shepherd's daughters, to gather flowers 



To paint their girlands with his colours. 



The poet makes the "bragging Brere" vaunt his own praises, to the disparage- 

 ment of his neighbour the " goodly Oak." 



See'st how fresh my flowers been spread, 

 Dyed in lily white and crimson red ? 



The mouldy moss which thee accloyeth 

 My cinnamon smell too much annoyeth. 



[Shepherd's Calendar, Eclogue 2. 



Notwithstanding the poet speaks elsewhere of the " fragrant Eglantine," I am 

 disposed to think the Sweet Brier is the plant he has here in view, although the 

 glow of his fancy tinges its flowers with a purer and a deeper dye. 



Again, in the Shepherd's Calendar (Eclogue 4) we meet with the following : 

 See where she sits upon the grassy green, 



(0 seemly sight!) 

 Yclad in scarlet, like a maiden queen, 

 And ermines white ; 



(Biv. I.) d 3 



