November 4, 1893. 
145 
THE GARDENING WORLD. 
'V 
PLANT NAMES AND 
THEIR ASSOCIATIONS.* 
" What’s in a name ? That which we call a.^ Rose 
By any other name would smell as sweet.” 
The gardening profession is an exacting one. Those 
who follow it, if not required to be " all thinp to 
all men,” are at least expected to give an intelligent 
answer to the thousand and one questions which an 
inquisitive public put to them. It is a fact, and a 
pregnant one, that, apart from those who earn their 
daily bread by the practice of the art of gardening, 
those who take to it in any of its multifarious 
branches, be it the study and culture of flowers, 
fruit, or vegetables, arboriculture, botany, or what 
not, and love the study for its own sake, are men and 
women who think and show a worthy desire for 
further knowledge. 
If, then, the outside world takes so readily to the 
pursuit of gardening, it behoves all good gardeners 
to so qualify themselves that they may take their 
proper place as teachers, and not only be con¬ 
versant with gardening in all its practical phases, 
but be able to give, without hesitation, the why 
and the wherefore in all that pertains to their pro¬ 
fession. A fool may ask a question which a wise 
man cannot answer, but that is no reason why gar¬ 
deners should not consider it their duty to be both 
able and willing to impart information pertaining to 
their profession to those who ask it. Plants have 
histories and pedigrees that are interwoven with our 
daily life, our country’s history, our customs, and 
our superstitions. There are, no doubt, Peter Bells 
in this world to whom a Primrose is only a Prim¬ 
rose after all; but there are others whose souls are 
not quite dead to all sense of sentiment and beauty. 
What more agreeable companion can one have in a 
walk round an old-fashioned garden than an intelli¬ 
gent gardener—one who in a pleasant way can give 
you a running commentary upon the inhabitants of 
his flower beds ? All flowers, be they high or lowly. 
Orchids or Dandelions, have a history of their own, 
and it is to this subject that I wish to direct your 
thoughts, and to lead you by “ the Primrose path of 
dalliance,” to find ” tongues in trees, books in the 
running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in 
everything.” 
In dealing with so vast a subject, I can but, as it 
were, touch the fringe of it, and it will be almost 
impossible for me to prevent one section of my paper 
* A paper read by Mr. Andrew Hope at the last meepng of 
the Exeter and District Gardeners’ Improvement Association. 
encroaching on the domains of another. However, 
I will endeavour to deal with it under distinctive 
heads, beginning, first, with 
Historic Plants and National Floral Emblems. 
To the Broom, ” the bonnie, bonnie broom,” of 
Scottish song, we owe the name of a dynasty—that 
of the Plantagenets. From the viords planta genista, 
or from the P'rench le genet we get the word 
Plantagenet. The association of the Broom with 
the Plantagenets or descendants of the house of 
Angou arose in this manner. Henry Martel, son of 
the Count of Angou, succeeded Stephen, thus form¬ 
ing the connecting link between the Normans and 
the Plantagenets ; he made a pilgrimage to the Holy 
Land to atone for his sins, and in his helmet placed 
a sprig of the Golden Broom as a token of his 
humility. 
” A pilgrim to the Holy Land, Earl of Angou went. 
Enjoined to expiate some crime in toilsome banish¬ 
ment. 
Placed in his scallopped hat he wore a sprig of 
lowly broom. 
And hence we name ‘ Humility ’ the plant of 
golden bloom.” 
Sir W.atkin (See page 14S/ 
From a similar sentiment of subserviency comes 
the custom of tying a broom to the mast-head of a 
ship to signify that she is in want of a new master. 
Hence, also, the Dutch proverb, ” She hangs the 
besom out,” meaning,/' she wants another husband,’’ 
or, as the symbol is interpreted by men in this 
country, " Liberty Hall—wife not at home.” When 
old Van Tromp hoisted the broom at the mast-head 
of his flag-ship there was no feeling of humility in 
the old sea-dog, but rather one of defiance, for he 
gave it as a symbol that he would sweep the main. 
In the thirteenth century there was a Royal Order 
of the Broom, from the members of which Louis IX. 
constituted a body-guard. The emblem of office 
was a chain in golden-yellow flowers of Broom, with 
the white Lilies of France intertwined, the motto 
being ” God exalteth the humble.” It used to be 
considered most unlucky to take a spray of Broom 
into the house in the month of May, or, indeed, for 
it to be under one’s roof in that month, there being 
a proverb to the effect that— 
” If you sweep the house with broom in May 
You’ll sweep the head of the house away.” 
What I have said refers to the common yellow 
Broom. The Butcher’s Broom is quite another 
plant, belonging to the Lily family, while the 
common Broom belongs to the Leguminosae or Pea 
blossomed family. Butcher’s Broom was so called 
from its use in sweeping the blocks in butchers’ 
shops. Although it is a woody shrub, it reveals its 
kinship to the Lily by the construction of its flowers. 
The Rose in its family history and its associations is 
so well known that I hardly need say much about it. 
The White Rose of the House of York and the Red 
Rose of the House of Lancaster played an important 
part in British history, while there is some ground 
for believing that to the white Dog Rose of our 
hedges may be traced the ancient name of our 
country, Albion. Rosa alba (white Rose) was 
shortened into Albion, those who used the name 
thinking of the aspect of the island with its hedges 
of white Roses. There has been, from the earliest 
times, a disposition among all classes of writers to 
honour the Rose above all other flowers—" Queen 
of the garden bloomed a Rose—Queen of the Roses 
round her.” According to the early poets, all Roses 
were originally white, and the first red Rose pro¬ 
ceeded from the firebrands of a funeral pyre raised 
to burn to death at Bethlehem a holy and innocent 
maiden, who had been wrongfully blamed for a 
crime deemed worthy of death. She was delivered 
from the hands of her persecutors, and on the very 
spot of her intended martyrdom the Roses changed 
from virgin white to blood red. Classical authors 
say that the Rose was changed from white to red by 
the blood from the feet of Venus, who, as she ran to 
relieve wounded Adonis, placed her feet on the 
prickly stem. A less regrettable version is that 
Cupid was one day dancing in the groves of Olympia, 
and, when full of mirth, poured out a bumper of the 
ambrosial nectar, which he let fall upon a Rose 
bush. The Roses reddened with shame, and have, 
to this day, never forgotten the incident. The 
legend of the Moss Rose is charming. An angel 
left Heaven and came to Earth to minister to the 
unhappy inhabitants of this vale of tears, but man, 
proud man, would have none of his help. His self- 
imposed mission being a failure, he, silent and sad, 
lay down under a Rose bush, the sweet odours of 
which lulled him to sleep. When the morning sun 
shone forth, the angel arose and said :— 
“ Thou hast yielded the shelter that man denied 
In the vain conceit of his stubborn pride. 
A proof of my love with thee abide 
And nurture thine own repose. 
And the green moss gathered around the stem. 
While the dewdrops shone like a diadem. 
Crowning the blushing flow’r. 
That now the wrath of the wind defies. 
Exultant'looks to the fostering skies. 
And, shielded thus in its brilliant dyes. 
Gives signs of an angel’s pow’r,” 
The Thistle, as an historic plant, is enshrined in 
song and story, and has many legends woven around 
its life history. The question is sometimes asked, 
"Which is the true Scotch Thistle?” Carduus 
Marianus, the holy Thistle, and Onopordum acan- 
thium, with their stately forms and milky stems, are 
both claimed to be the Thistle of heraldry ; but the 
lowly Cnicuslanceolata, alluded to by Burns as 
" The rough bur-thistle spreading wide 
Among the bearded here, 
I turned the weeding clips aside 
And spared the symbol dear,” 
is accepted as the true Scotch Thistle. 
The legend is that the Danes, when they invaded 
Scotland, commenced their march under cover of 
the night, but, being barefooted, when they trod 
upon the Thistle they cried out with pain, and thus 
revealed their presence to the " Caledonian stern 
and wild.” By this means they were frustrated n 
their design. The motto to the crest of the Thistle 
is " Nemo me impune lacessit ” (No one shall insult 
me with impunity), or, as a kilted schoolboy in the 
land of cakes gave it, “ If ye meddle wi me I'll jag 
ye.” 
” I am Sir Thistle, the surly, 
The rough, and the rude, and the burly, 
I doubt if you’ll find 
My touch quite to your mind. 
Whether late be your visit or early.” 
The Order of the Thistle is one of the most ancient 
of the orders of chivalry, it is said. Hogg, the 
Ettrick Shepherd, comparing the Thistle and the 
Rose, says— 
"Though England eyes her roses 
With pride she’ll ne’er forego. 
The Rose has oft been trodden 
By foot of haughty foe. 
But a foe had better brave the deil 
Within his reeky cell. 
Than our Thistle’s purple bonnet 
Or bonnie Heather-bell.” 
Narcissus incomparabilis. 
