7 HE YEW TREE. 453 



to the churches by way of protection, in order that there might 

 always be a good supply of bows in case of war. The Catholic 

 Church, which was founded to preach peace on earth to men of 

 good will, never could have patronised botany for sanguinary pur- 

 poses. No doubt whatever, the yew tree was planted near the 

 church for the facility of obtaining sprigs and branches to be used 

 during the processions. Religious processions were in high request 

 amongst our pious ancestors. They were an admirable mode of 

 imparting a knowlege of the sacred mysteries of religion to all ranks 

 of people. Terrible indeed has been the loss to our nation by their 

 suppression. 



Selborne's immortal naturalist cautions us not to let our cattle 

 feed upon the foliage of the yew ; and he gives us an instance of its 

 deadly effects. Hence I have taken the precaution to fence my 

 clumps of yew trees round with an impenetrable hedge of hollies. 

 Sprigs newly taken from the growing yew tree are said not to be 

 poisonous ; but in the course of three or four days a change takes 

 place in them, and then their noxious quality prevails. But the ripe 

 berries of the yew tree are certainly not deleterious, as I myself can 

 prove by frequent personal trial, indeed, nothing is more common 

 in this neighbourhood, when autumn has set in, than to see the vil- 

 lage lads idling under yew trees, and partaking plentifully of the 

 fruit, which they appositely call snottle-berries. 



Ovid considered the appearance of the yew tree sufficiently lugu- 

 brious to give it a place on the hill side which led down to the 

 infernal regions, " funesta nubila taxo." And we learn from Julius 

 Caesar that it proved fatal to the human species ; for King Cativol- 

 cus, after heartily cursing his ally Ambiorix, for having brought him 

 into an irretrievable scrape, had recourse to the yew tree, in order 

 to bid this wicked world adieu for ever, " Taxo, cujus magna in 

 Gallia, Germaniaque copia est, se exanimavit." The Spaniards, in 

 the days of Cervantes, applied sprigs of yew to mournful purposes, 

 as we gather from the story of Chrysostomo. This unhappy swain 

 fell into languor, and died for the love of the shepherdess Marcela ; 

 and his friend performed his obsequies with wreaths of yew and 

 cypress : " Eran, qual de texo, y qual de Cypres." But here in 

 England, the yew sprig, far from being thought an emblem of grief, 



