September, 1905 



AMERICAN HOMES AND GARDENS 



187 



In this garden one may find not only plants pretty in 

 blossom, but the more modest species which are useful as 

 food or from which medicine was brewed for the ailments 

 of the sixteenth century : barley, various species of beans, the 

 bramble with its seed-laden berries — to which Falstaff refers 

 in his rant, " Give you a reason on compulsion — if reasons 

 were as plentiful as blackberries, I would give no man a 

 reason on compulsion "; flax, with seeds that were made into 

 healing poultices for mediaeval as well as modern sore backs; 

 oats, and the climbing vetches, which are thought by some 

 scholars to be the tares mentioned in the parable of the 

 sower. Shakespeare speaks of a number of these grains in 

 ' The Tempest/' where Iris addresses Ceres: 



" Most bounteous lady, thy rich leas 

 Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats and peas." 



There is also the tart rhubarb, which the great poet men- 

 tions as a purgative drug, but which, in Elizabethan times, 

 probably had no culinary use, together with its botanical 

 cousin, the dock, spoken of by Burgundy in " Henry V.," 

 and the hardy leek and tearful onion. The qualities of 

 these last as food were evidently appreciated by Shakespeare, 

 for Bottom is made to say to his fellows: "And most 

 dear actors eat no onions nor garlic, for we are to utter 

 sweet breaths." 



In the shade of the trees which line the western edge of the 

 Shakespeare garden grows the " cold lettuce " and the hyssop 

 — both referred to by Iago in his famous metaphor of the 

 human body and the garden — the former plant noted for its 

 narcotic qualities, the latter for its part in the cruelties of the 

 Crucifixion. Near by grows our American potato. It is 

 interesting to note that almost the earliest mention of pota- 

 toes, after their introduction from Virginia into Ireland in 

 1584 by Sir Walter Raleigh, is made by Falstaff in " The 

 Merry Wives of Windsor," where he says: " Let the sky 

 rain potatoes; let it thunder to the tune of green sleeves." 

 In this same bed is the familiar radish, considered by the 

 Elizabethans as a preventive of snake bites; the plantain, to 

 which great medicinal properties were attributed; the old 

 spicy mustard, the poisonous aconitum, which Shakespeare 

 compares in deadly qualities to the " rash gunpowder," and 

 the parsley, which recalls the speech of Biondello in " The 

 Taming of the Shrew." " I knew a wench," says he, " mar- 

 ried in an afternoon as she went to the garden for parsley to 

 stuff a rabbit " — showing that this universal herb was used 

 as a garnish as far back as the time of the Armada and the 

 Globe Theater. 



The ivy, which ordinarily " enrings the barky fingers of 

 the elm," and pervades all romantic literature, seems to have 

 been only a vicious parasite to Shakespeare's mind. In several 

 passages he refers to it in the same spirit as in the " Comedy 

 of Errors," where it is called " usurping," and again 

 in " The Tempest," as " The Ivy, which had hid my princely 

 trunk, and sucked the verdure out on't." 



What with this interesting classical department (started 

 five years ago by Professor Goodale) , the Virgil garden, the 

 seventeenth century plants of Parkinson and the native 

 species, it ought to be very easy to develop a knowledge of 

 horticulture or to study botany in Cambridge. After a 

 woodland search one has only to bring the treasures here 

 and find their names, not by picking the pretty blossoms to 

 pieces and laboriously searching among the dry technicalities 

 of a dusty volume to find their genus and species, but by 

 comparison with the blossom's living brethren. People have 

 begun to find this out, too, and now they come as early as 

 February to see the roses, cyclamens and cinerarias, then in 

 bloom under glass. 



I he Garden is never quite bare. From earliest spring to 

 late autumn something is blossoming. In March there are 



snowdrops and crocuses in sheltered places near the green- 

 houses; in April the hardy perennials begin to appear; and 

 from then on, of course, there is a wealth of color and 

 fragrance here to be enjoyed. Beside each growth is thrust 

 into the ground a little tablet containing the scientific and 

 common names of the plant and its habitat. The visitor may 

 even pluck up this record for more convenient reading, if 

 only he takes care to put it back in its proper place. 



Among the most constant visitors to the Botanic Garden 

 are children, who have become familiar with many of 

 the common flowers through their kindergarten instruction. 

 These little folk make a very pretty picture in their bright 

 cotton dresses, as they march two and two along the green- 

 bordered paths. Yet when all is said it is the people who 

 most enjoy the treasures of this unique spot. Though Harry 

 and Harriet may not be able to quote verses to illustrate 

 the Shakespeare specimens, they appreciate thoroughly the 

 privilege of being permitted to wander at will over the 

 grounds and through the greenhouses. Often four hundred 



The Great Auclers and the Beech Hedge 



visitors come to the Garden of a Sunday afternoon. It is the 

 one Harvard department which is " popular." 



The greenhouses of the Botanic Garden make very little 

 pretense of architectural glory, but regulations for preserv- 

 ing the proper temperature are on the most approved plan, 

 and the arrangement of the specimens is capital. The gaudy 

 ornaments of the florist's shop, azaleas, camellias, carnation 

 pinks and the like, may perhaps be missed, but there are 

 hundreds of things here not to be found in other greenhouses 

 and of distinct interest. The cacti, for instance, are truly 

 extraordinary. Their blossoms, you note, are out of all pro- 

 portion to the size of the plant. A miserable little thing has 

 a flower some eight inches long, while an American cactus, 

 which would weigh three hundred pounds, shows onlv a 

 shy half-inch bloom. 



The division given over to economic plants excites great 

 popular interest at all times. 



