PLANT LORE AND OLD GARDEN ATMOSPHERE 



STEPHEN F. HAMBLIN 



Director in Plant Material, Harvard School of Landscape Architecture 



One Secret of the Old Garden's Charm Which Has Been Suppressed by the Modern Aversion to 

 Sentiment— Suggestions for Making Practical Use of Symbolism in Recreating the Old Fancy 



RT in all its forms — architecture, painting, literature, 

 and sculpture — owes a vast debt to associations 

 and meanings brought down through the ages. 

 Why should this inheritance have been denied the 

 garden? To-day if the garden pleases superficially we think 

 it has realized its possibilities; yet the symbolic use of plants 

 in a garden is a phase of garden art richer in opportunity than 

 almost any other, since it will transform the dumb composi- 

 tion into a story-telling creation. 



Perhaps this is the text of the sermon — the garden should 

 tell a story as well as be a picture. This it once did every- 

 where — and does in Japan to this day. But that is another 

 chapter. The point is, however, that symbolic meanings as- 

 sociated with certain plants are common to all peoples, though 

 only those of three races have greatly affected ourselves. 

 These are the Jewish, the Roman, and the Saxon: and of 

 these, only the Romans made any elaborate use of plant 

 symbols in their gardens. With them certain plants were 

 sacred to certain divinities, and were consequently planted 

 about the temples of these gods; or in private gardens if it 

 were desired to favor the god; and a fitness in attributes 

 usually governed the association, the Oak being assigned to 

 Jupiter, the Pine to Cybele, Lily to Juno, Olive to Minerva, 

 Rose and Myrtle to Venus, Laurel to Apollo, Holly to Saturn, 

 Cypress to Pluto, Poplar to Hercules, etc. Traces of these 

 associations still exist in the Roses you send to your lady fair, 

 the Holly we use at Christmas, and the Cypress or other dark 

 conifer planted in the burying ground. Hyacinthus, Daphne, 

 Narcissus, and many more were mortals transformed to 

 flowers, and their story was a part of the garden. The 

 Plane-tree was the civic tree supreme, used in groves in public 

 grounds to excite contemplation, and in rows for walks in 

 private gardens to furnish shade. Violets were grown for 

 the dies violae. when they were strewn on graves — ancient 

 forerunner of our Memorial Day. 



WITH the coming of Christianity, however, what of this 

 flower cult survived after the Dark Ages, was sternly 

 forbidden as pagan. But the deep instincts of man could not 

 be gainsaid; and thus it came about that Saturn's Holly be- 

 came the emblem of Christmas, that Juno's Lily was given to 

 Mary the mother of Jesus, and that the Laurel became the 

 abstract emblem of learning, and the Olive a similar one of 

 peace. 



In northern lands other plant symbols and associations 

 were evolved, but except for Scandinavian literature we know 

 little of them. Our own plant lore is largely that of the an.- 

 cient Britons, wherein the Oak represented strength, the 

 Mountain-ash was a charm to keep off witches, and the 

 Mistletoe a plant of haunting mystery. Shakespeare is rich 

 in this lore, and much of it persists not only in the common 



or folk-names of plants but in many of the scientific names 

 as well. 



All of these hazy traditions came over to our colonial 

 gardens, and in early days many a garden was stronger on 

 sentiment than on pictorial composition or color scheme. 

 Changes came gradually to be made in the new land, such as 

 Arborvitae in northern cemeteries where Yew was not hardy, 

 and Vinca instead of Ivy on the graves, but the general form 

 remained. To-day, however, little of even this remnant of 

 mysticism survives, and this only among persons of the older 

 generation and usually in remote hamlets. How may we 

 restore it? Or rather how shall we reclaim in the gardens 

 of to-day this ancient heritage? 



SYMBOLISM cannot be made to order, of course — it only 

 evolves in the slow processes of time. But drawing 

 upon what has been done in all the past and using funda- 

 mental principles there embodied on which to build, we can 

 make our gardens speak of all gardens and all men, as well as 

 of the realities of America and Americans to-day. And we 

 can make them rich in the story quality as well as in sug- 

 gestive thoughts and great aspirations. This is a phase of 

 garden making that can indeed be developed as rapidly as 

 we will, accepting the suggestion furnished by the fact that 

 it is religious symbolism that has maintained the strongest 

 hold as a starting point. Plant a Pine tree, symbol of etern- 

 ity — the largest, longest lived, and most easily grown of cul- 

 tivated conifers — near every church. The genus Pinus is 

 the most universal of evergreens and world over it is a tree 

 of greatest significance. Hence it is particularly appropriate 

 as an object of religious contemplation. It has been called 

 the "northern Palm" and Pine branches have been used on 

 Palm Sunday when Palm leaves were not on hand. Some 

 churches have lately taken to setting the top of an evergreen 

 tree upon the church -lawn in December, decorating it 

 for Christmas week. Why not plant the living tree per- 

 manently — a Pine preferably, or a Hemlock, Spruce, or 

 other conifer if for some reason Pine is not suitable, to 

 become a Christmas-tree for generations, as well as a visible 

 symbol every day of the year of the never-ending spirit of 

 Christmas? 



The city hall, the public library, and other public grounds 

 have usually only a limited space for decorative vegetation 

 but even small space may be so planted that there is sugges- 

 tion of the majesty of law or the dignity of learning. It is 

 in private grounds, however, that more can be attempted., 

 for here the associations need not be founded too literally 

 on fact. Any fancy the owner may have that conforms to 

 the standard and principles of garden concept may be in- 

 dulged — just as the Roman private garden honored a chosen 

 god. 



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