918 ARBORETUM AND FUUTICETUM. PART III. 



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 CVate v 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 Ftorifera, vol. i. p. 84*. and p. 87.) 

 In more modern times, it was considered a preservative against witchcraft j 

 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 1st 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 Tu>eed t remarks, " prevailed also in Northumberland, but is pro- 

 bably now extinct." (vol. i. p. 1 10.) 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 I asked him if his cow was 

 getting better, for his son had told me that she had fallen sick. * She's coining 

 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 



