CHAPTER XVI.Funeral Trees and Plants.

CHAPTER XVI.Funeral Trees and Plants.Theassociation of certain trees and plants with death and its gloomy surroundings dates from a period remote and shadowy in its antiquity. Allusions to it are found in the most ancient writings and records, and through one of these (the SanscritMahâbhârata) we learn that Pitâ Mahâ, the great Creator, after having created the world, reposed under the treeSalmalî, the leaves of which the winds cannot stir. One of the Sanscrit names applied to this tree isKantakadruma, Tree of Thorns; and on account of the great size and strength of its spines, it is stated to have been placed as a tree of punishment in the infernal regions, and to have been known as the Tree of Yama (the Hindu god of death). Yama is also spoken of as the dispenser of the ambrosia of immortality, which flows from the fruit of the celestial tree in Paradise (Ficus Indica), and which is known in India as the tree dear to Yama. As king of the spirits of the departed, Yama dwells near the tree. Hel, the Scandinavian goddess of death, has her abode among the roots of Yggdrasill, by the side of one of the fountains. Mîmir, who, according to Scandinavian mythology, gives his name to the fountain of life, is also a king of the dead. The ancients entertained the belief that, on the road traversed by the souls of the departed, there grew a certain tree, the fruit of which was the symbol of eternal life. In the Elysian Fields, where dwelt the spirits of the virtuous in the gloomy regions reigned over by Pluto, whole plains were covered with Asphodel, flowers which were placed by the Greeks and Romans on the graves of the departed as symbolic of the future life. In France, at the beginning of the Christian era, the faithful, with some mystical idea, were wont to scatter on the bottom of coffins, beneath the corpses, seeds of various plants—probably to typify life from the dead.The belief in a future existence doubtless led to the custom of planting trees on tombs, especially the Cypress, which was regarded as typical both of life and death. The tree growing over the grave, one can easily imagine, was looked upon by the ancient races as an emblem of the soul of the departed become immortal. Evelyn remarks, on this point, that trees and perennial plants are the most natural and instructive hieroglyphics of our expected resurrection and immortality, and that they conduce to the meditationof the living, and the removal of their cogitations from the sphere of vanity and worldliness. This observant writer descants upon the predilection exhibited by the early inhabitants of the world for burial beneath trees, and points out that the venerable Deborah was interred under an Oak at Bethel, and that the bones of Saul and his three sons were buried under the Oak at Jabesh-Gilead. He tells us also that one use made by the ancients of sacred groves was to place in their nemorous shades the bodies of their dead: and that he had read of some nations whose people were wont to hang, not only malefactors, but also their departed friends, and those whom they most esteemed, upon trees, as being so much nearer to heaven, and dedicated to God; believing it far more honourable than to be buried in the earth. He adds that “the same is affirmed of other septentrional people;” and points out that Propertius seems to allude to some such custom in the following lines:—“The gods forbid my bones in the high roadShould lie, by every wand’ring vulgar trod;Thus buried lovers are to scorn expos’d,My tomb in some bye-arbor be inclos’d.”The ancients were wont to hang their criminals either to barren trees, or to those dedicated to the infernal gods; and we find that in Maundevile’s time the practice of hanging corpses on trees existed in the Indies, or, at any rate, on an island which he describes as being called Caffolos. He gives a sketch of a tree, probably a Palm, with a man suspended from it, and remarks that “Men of that Contree, whan here Frendes ben seke, thei hangen hem upon Trees; and seyn, that it is bettre that briddes, that ben Angeles of God, eten hem, than the foul Wormes of the Erthe.”The Tree of Death. FromMaundevile’s Travels.We have, in a previous chapter, seen that among the Bengalese there still exists the practice of hanging sickly infants in baskets upon trees, and leaving them there to die. Certain of the wild tribes of India—the Puharris, for example—when burying their infants, place them in earthen pots, and strew leaves over them: these pots they deposit at the foot of trees, sometimes covering them over with brushwood. Similar burial is given to those who die of measles or small-pox: the corpse is placed at the foot of a tree, and left in the underwood or heather, covered with leaves and branches. In about a year the parents repair to the grave-tree, and there, beneath its boughs, take part in a funeral feast.Grotius states that the Greeks and Romans believed that spirits and ghosts of men delighted to wander and appear in the sombre depths of groves devoted to the sepulture of the departed, and on this account Plato gave permission for trees to be planted over graves—as Evelyn states, “to obumbrate and refresh them.” Since then the custom of planting trees in places devoted to the burial of the dead has become universal, and the trees thus selected have in consequence come to be regarded as funereal.As a general rule, the trees to which this funereal signification has been attached are those of a pendent or weeping character, and those which are distinguished by their dark and sombre foliage, black berries and fruits, and melancholy-looking blossoms. Others again have been planted in God’s acre on account of the symbolical meaning attached to their form or nature. Thus, whilst the Aloe, the Yew, and the Cypress are suggestive of life, from their perpetual verdure, they typify in floral symbology respectively grief, sorrow, and mourning. The Bay is an emblem of the resurrection, inasmuch as, according to Sir Thomas Browne, when to all outward appearance it is dead and withered, it will unexpectedly revive from the root, and its dry leaves resume their pristine vitality. Evergreen trees and shrubs, whose growth is like a pyramid or spire, the apex of which points heavenward, are deemed emblematic of eternity, and as such are fitly classed among funereal trees: the Arbor Vitæ and the Cypress are examples. The weeping Birch and Willow and the Australian Casuarina, with their foliage mournfully bending to the earth, fitly find their place in churchyards as personifications of woe.The Yew-tree has been considered an emblem of mourning from a very early period. The Greeks adopted the idea from the Egyptians, the Romans from the Greeks, and the Britons from the Romans. From long habits of association, the Yew acquired a sacred character, and therefore was considered as the best and most appropriate ornament of consecrated ground. Hence in England it became the custom to plant Yews in churchyards, despite the ghastly superstition attached to these trees, that they prey upon the dead who lie beneath their sombre shade. Moreover our forefathers were particularly careful in preserving thisfunereal tree, whose branches it was at one time usual to carry in solemn procession to the grave, and afterwards to deposit therein under the bodies of departed friends. The custom of planting Yew trees singly in churchyards is also one of considerable antiquity. Statius, in his sixth Thebaid, calls it thesolitary Yew. Leyden thus apostrophises this funeral tree:—“Now more I love thee, melancholy Yew,Whose still green leaves in silence waveAbove the peasant’s rude unhonoured grave,Which oft thou moistenest with the morning dew.To thee the sad, to thee the weary fly;They rest in peace beneath thy sacred gloom,Thou sole companion of the lonely tomb;No leaves but thine in pity o’er them sigh:Lo! now to fancy’s gaze thou seem’st to spreadThy shadowy boughs to shroud me with the dead.”The Mountain Ash is to be found in most Welsh churchyards, where it has been planted, not as a funeral tree, but as a defence against evil spirits. In Montgomeryshire, it is customary to rest the corpse on its way to the churchyard under one of these trees of good omen.William Cullen Bryant, the American poet, has left us a graceful description of an English churchyard:—“Erewhile on England’s pleasant shores, our siresLeft not their churchyards unadorned with shadesOr blossoms; and, indulgent to the strongAnd natural dread of man’s last home—the grave!Its frost and silence, they disposed around,Too sadly on life’s close, the forms and huesOf vegetable beauty. Then the Yew,Green even amid the snows of Winter, toldOf immortality; and gracefullyThe Willow, a perpetual mourner, drooped;And there the gadding Woodbine crept about;And there the ancient Ivy.”The Walnut-tree, of which it is said that the shadow brings death, is in some countries considered a funeral tree. In India they call the Tamarisk,Yamadutika(Messenger of Yama, the Indian god of death), and theBombax Heptaphyllum, Yamadruma, the tree of Yama.The Elm and the Oak, although not strictly funeral trees, are connected with the grave by reason of their wood being used in the construction of coffins, at the present day, just as Cypress and Cedar wood used to be employed by the ancients.“And well the abounding Elm may growIn field and hedge so rife;In forest, copse, and wooded park,And ’mid the city’s strife;For every hour that passes byShall end a human life.”—Hood.Brambles are used to bind down graves. Ivy, as an evergreen and a symbol of friendship, is planted to run over the last resting-place of those we love.In Persia, it is the Basil-tuft that waves its fragrant blossoms over tombs and graves. In Tripoli, Roses, Myrtle, Orange, and Jasmine are planted round tombs; and a large bouquet of flowers is usually fastened at the head of the coffins of females. Upon the death of a Moorish lady of quality every place is filled with fresh flowers and burning perfumes, and at the head of the body is placed a large bouquet. The mausoleum of the royal family is filled with immense wreaths of fresh flowers, and generally tombs are dressed with festoons of choice blossoms. The Chinese plant Roses, a species of Lycoris, and the Anemone on their graves. The Indians attribute a funereal character to the fragrant flowers of the sacred Champak (Michelia Champaca).The ancients planted the Asphodel around the tombs of the deceased, in the belief that the seeds of this plant, and those of the Mallow, afforded nourishment to the dead.The Greeks employed the Rose to decorate the tombs of the dead, and the floral decorations were frequently renewed, under the belief that this bush was potent to protect the remains of the departed one. Anacreon alludes to this practice in one of his odes:—“When pain afflicts and sickness grieves,Its juice the drooping heart relieves;And after death its odours shedA pleasing fragrance o’er the dead.”The Romans, also, were so partial to the Rose, that we find, by old inscriptions at Ravenna and Milan, that codicils in the wills of the deceased directed that their tombs should be planted with the queen of flowers—a practice said to have been introduced by them into England. Camden speaks of the churchyards in his time as thickly planted with Rose-trees; Aubrey notices a custom at Ockley, in Surrey, of planting Roses on the graves of lovers; and Evelyn, who lived at Wotton Place, not far distant, mentions the same practice. In Wales, White Roses mark the graves of the young and of unmarried females; whilst Red Roses are placed over anyone distinguished for benevolence of character.All nations at different periods seem to have delighted to deck the graves of their departed relatives with garlands of flowers—emblems at once of beauty and quick fading into death.“With fairest flowersWhile summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele,I’ll sweeten thy sad grave. Thou shalt not lackThe flower that’s like thy face, pale Primrose; norThe azured Hare-bell, like thy veins; no, norThe leaf of Eglantine, which, not to slander,Out-sweetened not thy breath.”Shakspeare (Cymbeline, Act IV.).The flowers strewed over graves by the Greeks were the Amaranth, Myrtle, and Polyanthus. The practice was reprobated by the primitive Christians; but in Prudentius’s time they had adopted it, and it is expressly mentioned both by St. Ambrose and St. Jerome. The flowers so used were deemed typical of the dead: to the young were assigned the blossoms of Spring and Summer: to middle-age, aromatic herbs and branches of primeval trees.Amaranthus was employed by the Thessalians to decorate the grave of Achilles; and Electra is represented as uttering the complaint that the tomb of her father Agamemnonhad not been adorned with Myrtle:—“With no libations, nor with Myrtle boughs,Were my dear father’s manes gratified.”Virgil, when recounting the sorrow of Anchises at the loss of Marcellus, causes him to exclaim:—“Full canisters of fragrant Lilies bring,Mix’d with the purple Roses of the Spring.Let me with fun’ral flowers his body strew.”In Germany, and in the German Cantons of Switzerland, the custom of decking graves is very common. TheDianthusis a favourite flower for this purpose in Upper Germany. In the beautiful little churchyard at Schwytz, almost every grave is entirely covered with Pinks.The cemetery of Père la Chaise, near Paris, exhibits proofs of the extent to which the custom of decking graves is preserved even by a metropolitan population and among persons of some rank. Numerous shops in the neighbourhood of this cemetery are filled with garlands ofImmortellesor Everlasting Flowers, which are purchased onfêtedays and anniversaries, and placed on the graves. The branches of Box, orBois béni, which are used in the place of Palms and Palm-leaves, are frequently stuck over graves in France.“Fair flowers in sweet succession should ariseThrough the long, blooming year, above the grave;Spring breezes will breathe gentlier o’er the turf,And summer glance with mildest, meekest beam,To cherish piety’s dear offerings. ThereRich sounds of Autumn ever shall be heard,—Mysterious, solemn music, waked by windsTo hymn the closing year! And when the touchOf sullen Winter blights the last, last gem,That bloomed around the tomb—O! there should beThe polished and enduring Laurel—thereThe green and glittering Ivy, and all plants,All hues and forms, delicious, that adornThe brumal reign, and often waken hopesRefreshing. Let eternal verdure clotheThe silent fields where rest the honoured dead,While mute affection comes, and lingers roundWith slow soft step, and pensive pause, and sigh,All holy.”—Carrington.In Egypt, Basil is scattered over the tombs by the women, who repair to the sepulchres of the dead twice or thrice every week, to pray and weep over the departed. In Italy, the Periwinkle, called by the peasantryfior di morto, or Death’s flower, is used to deck their children who die in infancy. In Norway, branchlets of Juniper and Fir are used at funerals, and exhibited in houses in order to protect the inhabitants from the visitation of evil spirits. The Freemasons of America scatter sprays of Acacia (Robinia) on the coffins of brethren. In Switzerland, a funeral wreath for a young maiden is composed of Hawthorn, Myrtle, and Orange-blossom. In the South of France, chaplets of white Roses and Orange-blossom are placed in the coffins of the young.The Greeks and Romans crowned the dead with flowers, and the mourners wore them at the funeral ceremonies. It should be mentioned that the Romans did not generally bury their dead before the time of the Antonines. The bodies of the dead were burnt, and the ashes placed in an urn.The funeral pyre of the ancients consisted of Cypress, Yew, Fir, and other trees and shrubs. The friends of the deceased stood by during the cremation, throwing incense on the fire and libations of wine. The bones and ashes were afterwards collected, cleansed, mixed with precious ointments, and enclosed in funeral urns. Agamemnon is described by Homer in the ‘Odyssey,’ as informing Achilles how this ceremony had been performed upon him:—“But when the flames your body had consumed,With oils and odours we your bones perfumed,And wash’d with unmixed wine.”Virgil, in describing the self-sacrifice, by fire, of Dido, speaks thus of the necessary preparations:—“The fatal pile they rearWithin the secret court, exposed in air.The cloven Holms and Pines are heaped on high;And garlands in the hollow spaces lie.Sad Cypress, Vervain, Yew, compose the wreath,And every baleful flower denoting death.”The repast set apart by custom for the dead consisted of Lettuces and Beans. It was customary among the ancients to offer Poppies as a propitiation to the manes of the dead. The Romans celebrated festivals in honour of the spirits of the departed, called Lemuria, where Beans were cast into the fire on the altar. The people also threw black Beans on the graves of the deceased, or burnt them, as the smell was supposed to be disagreeable to the manes. In Italy, at the present day, it is customary to eat Beans and to distribute them among the poor on the anniversary of a death.The practice of embalming the bodies of their dead, which was universal among the ancient Egyptians, had its origin, accordingto Diodorus, in the desire of the wealthy to be able to contemplate, in the midst of luxurious appointments, the features of their ancestors. Several times a year the mummies were brought out of the splendid chambers where they were kept; incense was burnt over them, and sweet-scented oil was poured over their heads, and carefully wiped off by a priest called in expressly to officiate. Herodotus has given us a description of the Egyptian method of embalming:—The brains having first been extracted through the nostrils by means of a curved iron probe, the head was filled with drugs. Then, with a sharp Ethiopian stone, an incision was made in the side, through which the intestines were drawn out; and the cavity was filled with powdered Myrrh, Cassia, and other perfumes, Frankincense excepted. Thus prepared, the body was sewn up, kept in natron (sesquicarbonate of soda) for seventy days, and then swathed in fine linen, smeared with gum, and finally placed in a wooden case made in the shape of a man. This was the best and most expensive style of embalming. A cheaper mode consisted in injecting oil of Cedar into the body, without removing the intestines, whilst for the poorer classes the body was merely cleansed; subjecting it in both cases to a natron bath, which completely dried the flesh. The Jews borrowed the practice of embalming from the Egyptians; for St. Mark records that, after the death of our Saviour, Nicodemus “brought a mixture of Myrrh and Aloes, about an hundred pound weight. Then took they the body of Jesus, and wound it in linen clothes with the spices, as the manner of Jews is to bury.”Old English Funeral Customs.In England, there long prevailed an old custom of carrying garlands before the bier of youthful beauty, which were afterwards strewed over her grave, In ‘Hamlet,’ the Queen, scattering flowers over the grave of Ophelia, says:—“Sweets to the sweet. Farewell!I hoped thy bride-bed to have decked, sweet maid,And not have strewed thy grave.”The practice of planting and scattering flowers over graves is noticed by Gay, who says:—“Upon her grave the Rosemary they threw,The Daisy, Butter-flower, and Endive blue.”Rosemary was considered as an emblem of faithful remembrance. Thus Ophelia says: “There’s Rosemary for you, that’s for remembrance; pray you, love, remember.” Probably this was the reason that the plant was carried by the followers at a funeral in former days: a custom noticed by the poet in the following lines:—“To show their love, the neighbours far and nearFollow’d with wistful look the damsel’s bier;Sprigg’d Rosemary the lads and lasses bore,While dismally the parson walked before.”It is still customary in some parts of England to distribute Rosemary among the company at a funeral, who frequently throw sprigs of it into the grave.Wordsworth introduces in one of his smaller poems an allusion to a practice which still prevails in the North of England:—“The basin of Box-wood, just six months before,Had stood on the table at Timothy’s door;A coffin through Timothy’s threshold had passed,One child did it bear, and that child was his last.”It is stated in a note that—“In several parts of the North of England, when a funeral takes place, a basin full of sprigs of Box-wood is placed at the door of the house from which the coffin is taken up; and each person who attends the funeral ordinarily takes a sprig of this Box-wood, and throws it into the grave of the deceased.” Pepys mentions a churchyard near Southampton, where, in the year 1662, the graves were all sown with Sage.Unfortunate lovers had garlands of Yew, Willow, and Rosemary laid on their biers; thus we read in the ‘Maid’s Tragedy’:—“Lay a garland on my hearseOf the dismal Yew;Maidens, Willow branches bear;Say that I died true.My love was false, but I was firmFrom my hour of birth.Upon my buried body lieLightly gentle earth.”It was an old English custom, at the funeral of a virgin, for a young woman to precede the coffin in the procession, carrying on her head a variegated garland of flowers and sweet herbs. Six young girls surrounded the bier, and strewed flowers along the streets to the place of burial. It was also formerly customary to carry garlands of sweet flowers at the funeral of dear friends and relatives, and not only to strew them on the coffin, but to plant them permanently on the grave. This pleasing practice, which gave the churchyard a picturesque appearance, owed its origin to the ancient belief that Paradise is planted with fragrant and beautiful flowers—a conception which is alluded to in the legend of Sir Owain, where the celestial Paradise, which is reached by the blessed after their passage through purgatory, is thus described:—“Fair were her erbers with floures;Rose and Lili divers colours,Primros and Parvink,Mint, Feverfoy, and Eglenterre,Columbin and Mother-wer,Than ani man may bithenkeIt berth erbes of other maner,Than ani in erth groweth here,Though that is best of priis;Evermore thai grene springeth,For Winter no sooner it us cloyeth,And sweeter than licorice.”In South Wales, the custom of planting and ornamenting graves is noticed by Brand in his ‘Popular Antiquities,’ as being very common. He tells us that, in Glamorgan, many churchyards have something like the splendour of a rich and various parterre. Besides this, it is usual to strew the graves with flowers and evergreens (within the church as well as out of it) at least thrice a year, on the same principle of delicate respect as the stones are whitened. No flowers or evergreens are permitted to be planted on graves but such as are sweet-scented: the Pink and Polyanthus, Sweet Williams, Gilliflowers and Carnations, Mignonette, Thyme, Hyssop, Camomile, and Rosemary make up the pious decoration of this consecrated garden. Turnesoles, Peonies, the African Marigold, the Anemone, and some other flowers, though beautiful, should never be planted on graves, because they are not sweet-scented.The prejudice against old maids and old bachelors subsists among the Welsh in a very marked degree, so that their graves have not unfrequently been planted, by some satirical neighbours, not only with Rue, but with Thistles, Nettles, Henbane, and other noxious weeds.In Glamorganshire, the old custom is still retained of strewing the bed whereon a corpse rests with fragrant flowers. In the South of England a chaplet of white Roses is borne before the corpse of a maiden by a young girl nearest in age and resemblance to the deceased, and afterwards hung up over her accustomed seat at church.Plants as Death Portents.Though scarcely to be characterised as “funereal,” there are some plants which have obtained a sinister reputation as either predicting death themselves, or being associated in some manner with fatal portents. Mannhardt tells us of a gloomy Swiss tradition, dating from the fifteenth century, which relates that the three children of a bootmaker of Basle having each in their garden a favourite tree, carefully studied the inflorescence during Lent. As the result of their close observation, the two sisters, Adelaide and Catherine, saw from the characteristics of the blossoms that they were predestined to enter a convent; whilst the boy Jean attentively watched the development of a red Rose, which predicted his entry into the Church and his subsequent martyrdom: as a matter of fact, it is said he was martyred at Prague by the Hussites.The Greeks regarded Parsley as a funereal herb, and were fond of strewing the tombs of their dead with it: hence it came in time to be thought a plant of evil augury, and those who were on the point of death were commonly spoken of as being in need of Parsley. Something of this association of Parsley with death isstill to be found in Devonshire, where a belief exists that to transplant Parsley is an offence against the guardian spirit who watches over the Parsley-beds, surely to be punished, either by misfortune or death, on the offender himself or some member of his family within a year.In the Siebenbürgen of Saxony, the belief exists that at the moment when an infant dies in the house, Death passes like a shadow into the garden, and there plucks a flower.In Italy, the red Rose is considered to be an emblem of an early death, and it is thought to be an evil omen if its leaves are perchance scattered on the ground. An apt illustration of this belief is found in the tragic story of poor Miss Ray, who was murdered at the Piazza entrance of Covent Garden Theatre, by a man named Hackman, on April 7th, 1779. Just prior to starting with her friend Mrs. Lewis for the theatre, a beautiful Rose fell from her bosom to the ground. She stooped to regain it, but at her touch the red leaves scattered themselves on the carpet, leaving the bare stalk in her hand. The unfortunate girl, who had been depressed in spirits before, was evidently affected by the incident, and said nervously, “I trust I am not to consider this as an evil omen!” Soon rallying, however, she cheerfully asked Mrs. Lewis to be sure and meet her after the theatre—a request the fulfilment of which was prevented by her untimely fate.Shakspeare has recorded that the withering of the Bay was looked upon as a certain omen of death; and it is an old fancy that if a Fir-tree be struck, withered, or burnt with lightning, the owner will soon after be seized with a mortal illness.Herrick, in his ‘Hesperides,’ alludes to the Daffodil as being under certain circumstances a death portent.“When a Daffodill I seeHanging down her head t’wards me,Guess I may what I must be:First, I shall decline my head;Secondly, I shall be dead;Lastly, safely buried.”In Northamptonshire, a belief exists that if an Apple-tree blooms after the fruit is ripe, it surely portends death:—“A bloom upon the Apple-tree when the Apples are ripe,Is a sure termination to somebody’s life.”In Devonshire, it is considered very unlucky to plant a bed of Lilies of the Valley, as the person who does this will in all probability die before twelve months have expired; and in the same county, a plentiful season for Hazel-nuts is believed to portend unusual mortality: hence the saying—“Many Nits [Nuts],Many pits [graves].”Sloes are also sometimes associated with this portent, as another version of the rhyme runs—“Many Slones [Sloes], many groans,Many Nits, many pits.”It is thought very unlucky in Sussex to use green brooms in May, and an old saying is current in the same county that—“If you sweep the house with Broom in May,You’ll sweep the head of that house away.”In West Sussex, there exists the strange idea that if anyone eats a Blackberry after Old Michaelmas Day (October 10th), death or disaster will alight either on the eater or his kinsfolk before the year is out.In some parts of England a superstition exists that if in a row of Beans one should chance to come up white, instead of green, a death will occur in the family within the year.In certain English counties there is a superstitious dread that if a drill go from one end of the field to the other without depositing any seed, some person on the farm will die either before the year is out or before the crop then sown is reaped.There is a very ancient belief that if every vestige of the Christmas decorations is not removed from the church before Candlemas Day (February 2nd), there will be a death during the year in the family occupying the pew where perchance a leaf or a berry has been left. Herrick has alluded to this superstitious notion in his ‘Hesperides’:—“Down with the Rosemary, and soDown with the Baies and Mistletoe:Down with the Holly, Ivy, allWherewith ye dress the Christmas hall;That so the superstitious findNot one least branch left thar behindFor look, how many leaves there beNeglected there (maids, trust to me)So many goblins you shall see.”

Theassociation of certain trees and plants with death and its gloomy surroundings dates from a period remote and shadowy in its antiquity. Allusions to it are found in the most ancient writings and records, and through one of these (the SanscritMahâbhârata) we learn that Pitâ Mahâ, the great Creator, after having created the world, reposed under the treeSalmalî, the leaves of which the winds cannot stir. One of the Sanscrit names applied to this tree isKantakadruma, Tree of Thorns; and on account of the great size and strength of its spines, it is stated to have been placed as a tree of punishment in the infernal regions, and to have been known as the Tree of Yama (the Hindu god of death). Yama is also spoken of as the dispenser of the ambrosia of immortality, which flows from the fruit of the celestial tree in Paradise (Ficus Indica), and which is known in India as the tree dear to Yama. As king of the spirits of the departed, Yama dwells near the tree. Hel, the Scandinavian goddess of death, has her abode among the roots of Yggdrasill, by the side of one of the fountains. Mîmir, who, according to Scandinavian mythology, gives his name to the fountain of life, is also a king of the dead. The ancients entertained the belief that, on the road traversed by the souls of the departed, there grew a certain tree, the fruit of which was the symbol of eternal life. In the Elysian Fields, where dwelt the spirits of the virtuous in the gloomy regions reigned over by Pluto, whole plains were covered with Asphodel, flowers which were placed by the Greeks and Romans on the graves of the departed as symbolic of the future life. In France, at the beginning of the Christian era, the faithful, with some mystical idea, were wont to scatter on the bottom of coffins, beneath the corpses, seeds of various plants—probably to typify life from the dead.

The belief in a future existence doubtless led to the custom of planting trees on tombs, especially the Cypress, which was regarded as typical both of life and death. The tree growing over the grave, one can easily imagine, was looked upon by the ancient races as an emblem of the soul of the departed become immortal. Evelyn remarks, on this point, that trees and perennial plants are the most natural and instructive hieroglyphics of our expected resurrection and immortality, and that they conduce to the meditationof the living, and the removal of their cogitations from the sphere of vanity and worldliness. This observant writer descants upon the predilection exhibited by the early inhabitants of the world for burial beneath trees, and points out that the venerable Deborah was interred under an Oak at Bethel, and that the bones of Saul and his three sons were buried under the Oak at Jabesh-Gilead. He tells us also that one use made by the ancients of sacred groves was to place in their nemorous shades the bodies of their dead: and that he had read of some nations whose people were wont to hang, not only malefactors, but also their departed friends, and those whom they most esteemed, upon trees, as being so much nearer to heaven, and dedicated to God; believing it far more honourable than to be buried in the earth. He adds that “the same is affirmed of other septentrional people;” and points out that Propertius seems to allude to some such custom in the following lines:—

“The gods forbid my bones in the high roadShould lie, by every wand’ring vulgar trod;Thus buried lovers are to scorn expos’d,My tomb in some bye-arbor be inclos’d.”

“The gods forbid my bones in the high road

Should lie, by every wand’ring vulgar trod;

Thus buried lovers are to scorn expos’d,

My tomb in some bye-arbor be inclos’d.”

The ancients were wont to hang their criminals either to barren trees, or to those dedicated to the infernal gods; and we find that in Maundevile’s time the practice of hanging corpses on trees existed in the Indies, or, at any rate, on an island which he describes as being called Caffolos. He gives a sketch of a tree, probably a Palm, with a man suspended from it, and remarks that “Men of that Contree, whan here Frendes ben seke, thei hangen hem upon Trees; and seyn, that it is bettre that briddes, that ben Angeles of God, eten hem, than the foul Wormes of the Erthe.”

The Tree of Death. FromMaundevile’s Travels.

We have, in a previous chapter, seen that among the Bengalese there still exists the practice of hanging sickly infants in baskets upon trees, and leaving them there to die. Certain of the wild tribes of India—the Puharris, for example—when burying their infants, place them in earthen pots, and strew leaves over them: these pots they deposit at the foot of trees, sometimes covering them over with brushwood. Similar burial is given to those who die of measles or small-pox: the corpse is placed at the foot of a tree, and left in the underwood or heather, covered with leaves and branches. In about a year the parents repair to the grave-tree, and there, beneath its boughs, take part in a funeral feast.

Grotius states that the Greeks and Romans believed that spirits and ghosts of men delighted to wander and appear in the sombre depths of groves devoted to the sepulture of the departed, and on this account Plato gave permission for trees to be planted over graves—as Evelyn states, “to obumbrate and refresh them.” Since then the custom of planting trees in places devoted to the burial of the dead has become universal, and the trees thus selected have in consequence come to be regarded as funereal.

As a general rule, the trees to which this funereal signification has been attached are those of a pendent or weeping character, and those which are distinguished by their dark and sombre foliage, black berries and fruits, and melancholy-looking blossoms. Others again have been planted in God’s acre on account of the symbolical meaning attached to their form or nature. Thus, whilst the Aloe, the Yew, and the Cypress are suggestive of life, from their perpetual verdure, they typify in floral symbology respectively grief, sorrow, and mourning. The Bay is an emblem of the resurrection, inasmuch as, according to Sir Thomas Browne, when to all outward appearance it is dead and withered, it will unexpectedly revive from the root, and its dry leaves resume their pristine vitality. Evergreen trees and shrubs, whose growth is like a pyramid or spire, the apex of which points heavenward, are deemed emblematic of eternity, and as such are fitly classed among funereal trees: the Arbor Vitæ and the Cypress are examples. The weeping Birch and Willow and the Australian Casuarina, with their foliage mournfully bending to the earth, fitly find their place in churchyards as personifications of woe.

The Yew-tree has been considered an emblem of mourning from a very early period. The Greeks adopted the idea from the Egyptians, the Romans from the Greeks, and the Britons from the Romans. From long habits of association, the Yew acquired a sacred character, and therefore was considered as the best and most appropriate ornament of consecrated ground. Hence in England it became the custom to plant Yews in churchyards, despite the ghastly superstition attached to these trees, that they prey upon the dead who lie beneath their sombre shade. Moreover our forefathers were particularly careful in preserving thisfunereal tree, whose branches it was at one time usual to carry in solemn procession to the grave, and afterwards to deposit therein under the bodies of departed friends. The custom of planting Yew trees singly in churchyards is also one of considerable antiquity. Statius, in his sixth Thebaid, calls it thesolitary Yew. Leyden thus apostrophises this funeral tree:—

“Now more I love thee, melancholy Yew,Whose still green leaves in silence waveAbove the peasant’s rude unhonoured grave,Which oft thou moistenest with the morning dew.To thee the sad, to thee the weary fly;They rest in peace beneath thy sacred gloom,Thou sole companion of the lonely tomb;No leaves but thine in pity o’er them sigh:Lo! now to fancy’s gaze thou seem’st to spreadThy shadowy boughs to shroud me with the dead.”

“Now more I love thee, melancholy Yew,

Whose still green leaves in silence wave

Above the peasant’s rude unhonoured grave,

Which oft thou moistenest with the morning dew.

To thee the sad, to thee the weary fly;

They rest in peace beneath thy sacred gloom,

Thou sole companion of the lonely tomb;

No leaves but thine in pity o’er them sigh:

Lo! now to fancy’s gaze thou seem’st to spread

Thy shadowy boughs to shroud me with the dead.”

The Mountain Ash is to be found in most Welsh churchyards, where it has been planted, not as a funeral tree, but as a defence against evil spirits. In Montgomeryshire, it is customary to rest the corpse on its way to the churchyard under one of these trees of good omen.

William Cullen Bryant, the American poet, has left us a graceful description of an English churchyard:—

“Erewhile on England’s pleasant shores, our siresLeft not their churchyards unadorned with shadesOr blossoms; and, indulgent to the strongAnd natural dread of man’s last home—the grave!Its frost and silence, they disposed around,Too sadly on life’s close, the forms and huesOf vegetable beauty. Then the Yew,Green even amid the snows of Winter, toldOf immortality; and gracefullyThe Willow, a perpetual mourner, drooped;And there the gadding Woodbine crept about;And there the ancient Ivy.”

“Erewhile on England’s pleasant shores, our sires

Left not their churchyards unadorned with shades

Or blossoms; and, indulgent to the strong

And natural dread of man’s last home—the grave!

Its frost and silence, they disposed around,

Too sadly on life’s close, the forms and hues

Of vegetable beauty. Then the Yew,

Green even amid the snows of Winter, told

Of immortality; and gracefully

The Willow, a perpetual mourner, drooped;

And there the gadding Woodbine crept about;

And there the ancient Ivy.”

The Walnut-tree, of which it is said that the shadow brings death, is in some countries considered a funeral tree. In India they call the Tamarisk,Yamadutika(Messenger of Yama, the Indian god of death), and theBombax Heptaphyllum, Yamadruma, the tree of Yama.

The Elm and the Oak, although not strictly funeral trees, are connected with the grave by reason of their wood being used in the construction of coffins, at the present day, just as Cypress and Cedar wood used to be employed by the ancients.

“And well the abounding Elm may growIn field and hedge so rife;In forest, copse, and wooded park,And ’mid the city’s strife;For every hour that passes byShall end a human life.”—Hood.

“And well the abounding Elm may grow

In field and hedge so rife;

In forest, copse, and wooded park,

And ’mid the city’s strife;

For every hour that passes by

Shall end a human life.”—Hood.

Brambles are used to bind down graves. Ivy, as an evergreen and a symbol of friendship, is planted to run over the last resting-place of those we love.

In Persia, it is the Basil-tuft that waves its fragrant blossoms over tombs and graves. In Tripoli, Roses, Myrtle, Orange, and Jasmine are planted round tombs; and a large bouquet of flowers is usually fastened at the head of the coffins of females. Upon the death of a Moorish lady of quality every place is filled with fresh flowers and burning perfumes, and at the head of the body is placed a large bouquet. The mausoleum of the royal family is filled with immense wreaths of fresh flowers, and generally tombs are dressed with festoons of choice blossoms. The Chinese plant Roses, a species of Lycoris, and the Anemone on their graves. The Indians attribute a funereal character to the fragrant flowers of the sacred Champak (Michelia Champaca).

The ancients planted the Asphodel around the tombs of the deceased, in the belief that the seeds of this plant, and those of the Mallow, afforded nourishment to the dead.

The Greeks employed the Rose to decorate the tombs of the dead, and the floral decorations were frequently renewed, under the belief that this bush was potent to protect the remains of the departed one. Anacreon alludes to this practice in one of his odes:—

“When pain afflicts and sickness grieves,Its juice the drooping heart relieves;And after death its odours shedA pleasing fragrance o’er the dead.”

“When pain afflicts and sickness grieves,

Its juice the drooping heart relieves;

And after death its odours shed

A pleasing fragrance o’er the dead.”

The Romans, also, were so partial to the Rose, that we find, by old inscriptions at Ravenna and Milan, that codicils in the wills of the deceased directed that their tombs should be planted with the queen of flowers—a practice said to have been introduced by them into England. Camden speaks of the churchyards in his time as thickly planted with Rose-trees; Aubrey notices a custom at Ockley, in Surrey, of planting Roses on the graves of lovers; and Evelyn, who lived at Wotton Place, not far distant, mentions the same practice. In Wales, White Roses mark the graves of the young and of unmarried females; whilst Red Roses are placed over anyone distinguished for benevolence of character.

All nations at different periods seem to have delighted to deck the graves of their departed relatives with garlands of flowers—emblems at once of beauty and quick fading into death.

“With fairest flowersWhile summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele,I’ll sweeten thy sad grave. Thou shalt not lackThe flower that’s like thy face, pale Primrose; norThe azured Hare-bell, like thy veins; no, norThe leaf of Eglantine, which, not to slander,Out-sweetened not thy breath.”Shakspeare (Cymbeline, Act IV.).

“With fairest flowers

While summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele,

I’ll sweeten thy sad grave. Thou shalt not lack

The flower that’s like thy face, pale Primrose; nor

The azured Hare-bell, like thy veins; no, nor

The leaf of Eglantine, which, not to slander,

Out-sweetened not thy breath.”

Shakspeare (Cymbeline, Act IV.).

The flowers strewed over graves by the Greeks were the Amaranth, Myrtle, and Polyanthus. The practice was reprobated by the primitive Christians; but in Prudentius’s time they had adopted it, and it is expressly mentioned both by St. Ambrose and St. Jerome. The flowers so used were deemed typical of the dead: to the young were assigned the blossoms of Spring and Summer: to middle-age, aromatic herbs and branches of primeval trees.

Amaranthus was employed by the Thessalians to decorate the grave of Achilles; and Electra is represented as uttering the complaint that the tomb of her father Agamemnonhad not been adorned with Myrtle:—

“With no libations, nor with Myrtle boughs,Were my dear father’s manes gratified.”

“With no libations, nor with Myrtle boughs,

Were my dear father’s manes gratified.”

Virgil, when recounting the sorrow of Anchises at the loss of Marcellus, causes him to exclaim:—

“Full canisters of fragrant Lilies bring,Mix’d with the purple Roses of the Spring.Let me with fun’ral flowers his body strew.”

“Full canisters of fragrant Lilies bring,

Mix’d with the purple Roses of the Spring.

Let me with fun’ral flowers his body strew.”

In Germany, and in the German Cantons of Switzerland, the custom of decking graves is very common. TheDianthusis a favourite flower for this purpose in Upper Germany. In the beautiful little churchyard at Schwytz, almost every grave is entirely covered with Pinks.

The cemetery of Père la Chaise, near Paris, exhibits proofs of the extent to which the custom of decking graves is preserved even by a metropolitan population and among persons of some rank. Numerous shops in the neighbourhood of this cemetery are filled with garlands ofImmortellesor Everlasting Flowers, which are purchased onfêtedays and anniversaries, and placed on the graves. The branches of Box, orBois béni, which are used in the place of Palms and Palm-leaves, are frequently stuck over graves in France.

“Fair flowers in sweet succession should ariseThrough the long, blooming year, above the grave;Spring breezes will breathe gentlier o’er the turf,And summer glance with mildest, meekest beam,To cherish piety’s dear offerings. ThereRich sounds of Autumn ever shall be heard,—Mysterious, solemn music, waked by windsTo hymn the closing year! And when the touchOf sullen Winter blights the last, last gem,That bloomed around the tomb—O! there should beThe polished and enduring Laurel—thereThe green and glittering Ivy, and all plants,All hues and forms, delicious, that adornThe brumal reign, and often waken hopesRefreshing. Let eternal verdure clotheThe silent fields where rest the honoured dead,While mute affection comes, and lingers roundWith slow soft step, and pensive pause, and sigh,All holy.”—Carrington.

“Fair flowers in sweet succession should arise

Through the long, blooming year, above the grave;

Spring breezes will breathe gentlier o’er the turf,

And summer glance with mildest, meekest beam,

To cherish piety’s dear offerings. There

Rich sounds of Autumn ever shall be heard,—

Mysterious, solemn music, waked by winds

To hymn the closing year! And when the touch

Of sullen Winter blights the last, last gem,

That bloomed around the tomb—O! there should be

The polished and enduring Laurel—there

The green and glittering Ivy, and all plants,

All hues and forms, delicious, that adorn

The brumal reign, and often waken hopes

Refreshing. Let eternal verdure clothe

The silent fields where rest the honoured dead,

While mute affection comes, and lingers round

With slow soft step, and pensive pause, and sigh,

All holy.”—Carrington.

In Egypt, Basil is scattered over the tombs by the women, who repair to the sepulchres of the dead twice or thrice every week, to pray and weep over the departed. In Italy, the Periwinkle, called by the peasantryfior di morto, or Death’s flower, is used to deck their children who die in infancy. In Norway, branchlets of Juniper and Fir are used at funerals, and exhibited in houses in order to protect the inhabitants from the visitation of evil spirits. The Freemasons of America scatter sprays of Acacia (Robinia) on the coffins of brethren. In Switzerland, a funeral wreath for a young maiden is composed of Hawthorn, Myrtle, and Orange-blossom. In the South of France, chaplets of white Roses and Orange-blossom are placed in the coffins of the young.

The Greeks and Romans crowned the dead with flowers, and the mourners wore them at the funeral ceremonies. It should be mentioned that the Romans did not generally bury their dead before the time of the Antonines. The bodies of the dead were burnt, and the ashes placed in an urn.

The funeral pyre of the ancients consisted of Cypress, Yew, Fir, and other trees and shrubs. The friends of the deceased stood by during the cremation, throwing incense on the fire and libations of wine. The bones and ashes were afterwards collected, cleansed, mixed with precious ointments, and enclosed in funeral urns. Agamemnon is described by Homer in the ‘Odyssey,’ as informing Achilles how this ceremony had been performed upon him:—

“But when the flames your body had consumed,With oils and odours we your bones perfumed,And wash’d with unmixed wine.”

“But when the flames your body had consumed,

With oils and odours we your bones perfumed,

And wash’d with unmixed wine.”

Virgil, in describing the self-sacrifice, by fire, of Dido, speaks thus of the necessary preparations:—

“The fatal pile they rearWithin the secret court, exposed in air.The cloven Holms and Pines are heaped on high;And garlands in the hollow spaces lie.Sad Cypress, Vervain, Yew, compose the wreath,And every baleful flower denoting death.”

“The fatal pile they rear

Within the secret court, exposed in air.

The cloven Holms and Pines are heaped on high;

And garlands in the hollow spaces lie.

Sad Cypress, Vervain, Yew, compose the wreath,

And every baleful flower denoting death.”

The repast set apart by custom for the dead consisted of Lettuces and Beans. It was customary among the ancients to offer Poppies as a propitiation to the manes of the dead. The Romans celebrated festivals in honour of the spirits of the departed, called Lemuria, where Beans were cast into the fire on the altar. The people also threw black Beans on the graves of the deceased, or burnt them, as the smell was supposed to be disagreeable to the manes. In Italy, at the present day, it is customary to eat Beans and to distribute them among the poor on the anniversary of a death.

The practice of embalming the bodies of their dead, which was universal among the ancient Egyptians, had its origin, accordingto Diodorus, in the desire of the wealthy to be able to contemplate, in the midst of luxurious appointments, the features of their ancestors. Several times a year the mummies were brought out of the splendid chambers where they were kept; incense was burnt over them, and sweet-scented oil was poured over their heads, and carefully wiped off by a priest called in expressly to officiate. Herodotus has given us a description of the Egyptian method of embalming:—The brains having first been extracted through the nostrils by means of a curved iron probe, the head was filled with drugs. Then, with a sharp Ethiopian stone, an incision was made in the side, through which the intestines were drawn out; and the cavity was filled with powdered Myrrh, Cassia, and other perfumes, Frankincense excepted. Thus prepared, the body was sewn up, kept in natron (sesquicarbonate of soda) for seventy days, and then swathed in fine linen, smeared with gum, and finally placed in a wooden case made in the shape of a man. This was the best and most expensive style of embalming. A cheaper mode consisted in injecting oil of Cedar into the body, without removing the intestines, whilst for the poorer classes the body was merely cleansed; subjecting it in both cases to a natron bath, which completely dried the flesh. The Jews borrowed the practice of embalming from the Egyptians; for St. Mark records that, after the death of our Saviour, Nicodemus “brought a mixture of Myrrh and Aloes, about an hundred pound weight. Then took they the body of Jesus, and wound it in linen clothes with the spices, as the manner of Jews is to bury.”

In England, there long prevailed an old custom of carrying garlands before the bier of youthful beauty, which were afterwards strewed over her grave, In ‘Hamlet,’ the Queen, scattering flowers over the grave of Ophelia, says:—

“Sweets to the sweet. Farewell!I hoped thy bride-bed to have decked, sweet maid,And not have strewed thy grave.”

“Sweets to the sweet. Farewell!

I hoped thy bride-bed to have decked, sweet maid,

And not have strewed thy grave.”

The practice of planting and scattering flowers over graves is noticed by Gay, who says:—

“Upon her grave the Rosemary they threw,The Daisy, Butter-flower, and Endive blue.”

“Upon her grave the Rosemary they threw,

The Daisy, Butter-flower, and Endive blue.”

Rosemary was considered as an emblem of faithful remembrance. Thus Ophelia says: “There’s Rosemary for you, that’s for remembrance; pray you, love, remember.” Probably this was the reason that the plant was carried by the followers at a funeral in former days: a custom noticed by the poet in the following lines:—

“To show their love, the neighbours far and nearFollow’d with wistful look the damsel’s bier;Sprigg’d Rosemary the lads and lasses bore,While dismally the parson walked before.”

“To show their love, the neighbours far and near

Follow’d with wistful look the damsel’s bier;

Sprigg’d Rosemary the lads and lasses bore,

While dismally the parson walked before.”

It is still customary in some parts of England to distribute Rosemary among the company at a funeral, who frequently throw sprigs of it into the grave.

Wordsworth introduces in one of his smaller poems an allusion to a practice which still prevails in the North of England:—

“The basin of Box-wood, just six months before,Had stood on the table at Timothy’s door;A coffin through Timothy’s threshold had passed,One child did it bear, and that child was his last.”

“The basin of Box-wood, just six months before,

Had stood on the table at Timothy’s door;

A coffin through Timothy’s threshold had passed,

One child did it bear, and that child was his last.”

It is stated in a note that—“In several parts of the North of England, when a funeral takes place, a basin full of sprigs of Box-wood is placed at the door of the house from which the coffin is taken up; and each person who attends the funeral ordinarily takes a sprig of this Box-wood, and throws it into the grave of the deceased.” Pepys mentions a churchyard near Southampton, where, in the year 1662, the graves were all sown with Sage.

Unfortunate lovers had garlands of Yew, Willow, and Rosemary laid on their biers; thus we read in the ‘Maid’s Tragedy’:—

“Lay a garland on my hearseOf the dismal Yew;Maidens, Willow branches bear;Say that I died true.My love was false, but I was firmFrom my hour of birth.Upon my buried body lieLightly gentle earth.”

“Lay a garland on my hearse

Of the dismal Yew;

Maidens, Willow branches bear;

Say that I died true.

My love was false, but I was firm

From my hour of birth.

Upon my buried body lie

Lightly gentle earth.”

It was an old English custom, at the funeral of a virgin, for a young woman to precede the coffin in the procession, carrying on her head a variegated garland of flowers and sweet herbs. Six young girls surrounded the bier, and strewed flowers along the streets to the place of burial. It was also formerly customary to carry garlands of sweet flowers at the funeral of dear friends and relatives, and not only to strew them on the coffin, but to plant them permanently on the grave. This pleasing practice, which gave the churchyard a picturesque appearance, owed its origin to the ancient belief that Paradise is planted with fragrant and beautiful flowers—a conception which is alluded to in the legend of Sir Owain, where the celestial Paradise, which is reached by the blessed after their passage through purgatory, is thus described:—

“Fair were her erbers with floures;Rose and Lili divers colours,Primros and Parvink,Mint, Feverfoy, and Eglenterre,Columbin and Mother-wer,Than ani man may bithenkeIt berth erbes of other maner,Than ani in erth groweth here,Though that is best of priis;Evermore thai grene springeth,For Winter no sooner it us cloyeth,And sweeter than licorice.”

“Fair were her erbers with floures;

Rose and Lili divers colours,

Primros and Parvink,

Mint, Feverfoy, and Eglenterre,

Columbin and Mother-wer,

Than ani man may bithenke

It berth erbes of other maner,

Than ani in erth groweth here,

Though that is best of priis;

Evermore thai grene springeth,

For Winter no sooner it us cloyeth,

And sweeter than licorice.”

In South Wales, the custom of planting and ornamenting graves is noticed by Brand in his ‘Popular Antiquities,’ as being very common. He tells us that, in Glamorgan, many churchyards have something like the splendour of a rich and various parterre. Besides this, it is usual to strew the graves with flowers and evergreens (within the church as well as out of it) at least thrice a year, on the same principle of delicate respect as the stones are whitened. No flowers or evergreens are permitted to be planted on graves but such as are sweet-scented: the Pink and Polyanthus, Sweet Williams, Gilliflowers and Carnations, Mignonette, Thyme, Hyssop, Camomile, and Rosemary make up the pious decoration of this consecrated garden. Turnesoles, Peonies, the African Marigold, the Anemone, and some other flowers, though beautiful, should never be planted on graves, because they are not sweet-scented.

The prejudice against old maids and old bachelors subsists among the Welsh in a very marked degree, so that their graves have not unfrequently been planted, by some satirical neighbours, not only with Rue, but with Thistles, Nettles, Henbane, and other noxious weeds.

In Glamorganshire, the old custom is still retained of strewing the bed whereon a corpse rests with fragrant flowers. In the South of England a chaplet of white Roses is borne before the corpse of a maiden by a young girl nearest in age and resemblance to the deceased, and afterwards hung up over her accustomed seat at church.

Though scarcely to be characterised as “funereal,” there are some plants which have obtained a sinister reputation as either predicting death themselves, or being associated in some manner with fatal portents. Mannhardt tells us of a gloomy Swiss tradition, dating from the fifteenth century, which relates that the three children of a bootmaker of Basle having each in their garden a favourite tree, carefully studied the inflorescence during Lent. As the result of their close observation, the two sisters, Adelaide and Catherine, saw from the characteristics of the blossoms that they were predestined to enter a convent; whilst the boy Jean attentively watched the development of a red Rose, which predicted his entry into the Church and his subsequent martyrdom: as a matter of fact, it is said he was martyred at Prague by the Hussites.

The Greeks regarded Parsley as a funereal herb, and were fond of strewing the tombs of their dead with it: hence it came in time to be thought a plant of evil augury, and those who were on the point of death were commonly spoken of as being in need of Parsley. Something of this association of Parsley with death isstill to be found in Devonshire, where a belief exists that to transplant Parsley is an offence against the guardian spirit who watches over the Parsley-beds, surely to be punished, either by misfortune or death, on the offender himself or some member of his family within a year.

In the Siebenbürgen of Saxony, the belief exists that at the moment when an infant dies in the house, Death passes like a shadow into the garden, and there plucks a flower.

In Italy, the red Rose is considered to be an emblem of an early death, and it is thought to be an evil omen if its leaves are perchance scattered on the ground. An apt illustration of this belief is found in the tragic story of poor Miss Ray, who was murdered at the Piazza entrance of Covent Garden Theatre, by a man named Hackman, on April 7th, 1779. Just prior to starting with her friend Mrs. Lewis for the theatre, a beautiful Rose fell from her bosom to the ground. She stooped to regain it, but at her touch the red leaves scattered themselves on the carpet, leaving the bare stalk in her hand. The unfortunate girl, who had been depressed in spirits before, was evidently affected by the incident, and said nervously, “I trust I am not to consider this as an evil omen!” Soon rallying, however, she cheerfully asked Mrs. Lewis to be sure and meet her after the theatre—a request the fulfilment of which was prevented by her untimely fate.

Shakspeare has recorded that the withering of the Bay was looked upon as a certain omen of death; and it is an old fancy that if a Fir-tree be struck, withered, or burnt with lightning, the owner will soon after be seized with a mortal illness.

Herrick, in his ‘Hesperides,’ alludes to the Daffodil as being under certain circumstances a death portent.

“When a Daffodill I seeHanging down her head t’wards me,Guess I may what I must be:First, I shall decline my head;Secondly, I shall be dead;Lastly, safely buried.”

“When a Daffodill I see

Hanging down her head t’wards me,

Guess I may what I must be:

First, I shall decline my head;

Secondly, I shall be dead;

Lastly, safely buried.”

In Northamptonshire, a belief exists that if an Apple-tree blooms after the fruit is ripe, it surely portends death:—

“A bloom upon the Apple-tree when the Apples are ripe,Is a sure termination to somebody’s life.”

“A bloom upon the Apple-tree when the Apples are ripe,

Is a sure termination to somebody’s life.”

In Devonshire, it is considered very unlucky to plant a bed of Lilies of the Valley, as the person who does this will in all probability die before twelve months have expired; and in the same county, a plentiful season for Hazel-nuts is believed to portend unusual mortality: hence the saying—

“Many Nits [Nuts],Many pits [graves].”

“Many Nits [Nuts],

Many pits [graves].”

Sloes are also sometimes associated with this portent, as another version of the rhyme runs—

“Many Slones [Sloes], many groans,Many Nits, many pits.”

“Many Slones [Sloes], many groans,

Many Nits, many pits.”

It is thought very unlucky in Sussex to use green brooms in May, and an old saying is current in the same county that—

“If you sweep the house with Broom in May,You’ll sweep the head of that house away.”

“If you sweep the house with Broom in May,

You’ll sweep the head of that house away.”

In West Sussex, there exists the strange idea that if anyone eats a Blackberry after Old Michaelmas Day (October 10th), death or disaster will alight either on the eater or his kinsfolk before the year is out.

In some parts of England a superstition exists that if in a row of Beans one should chance to come up white, instead of green, a death will occur in the family within the year.

In certain English counties there is a superstitious dread that if a drill go from one end of the field to the other without depositing any seed, some person on the farm will die either before the year is out or before the crop then sown is reaped.

There is a very ancient belief that if every vestige of the Christmas decorations is not removed from the church before Candlemas Day (February 2nd), there will be a death during the year in the family occupying the pew where perchance a leaf or a berry has been left. Herrick has alluded to this superstitious notion in his ‘Hesperides’:—

“Down with the Rosemary, and soDown with the Baies and Mistletoe:Down with the Holly, Ivy, allWherewith ye dress the Christmas hall;That so the superstitious findNot one least branch left thar behindFor look, how many leaves there beNeglected there (maids, trust to me)So many goblins you shall see.”

“Down with the Rosemary, and so

Down with the Baies and Mistletoe:

Down with the Holly, Ivy, all

Wherewith ye dress the Christmas hall;

That so the superstitious find

Not one least branch left thar behind

For look, how many leaves there be

Neglected there (maids, trust to me)

So many goblins you shall see.”

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