MOSS.

[163:1]"Mistelest amiststercus, quod ex stercore avium pronascitur, nec aliter pronasci potest."—Wachter,Glossary(quoted in "Notes and Queries," 3rd series, vii. 157. In the same volume are several papers on the origin of the word). Dr. Prior derives it frommistl(different), andtan(twig), being so unlike the tree it grows upon.

[163:2]Mistletoe growing on an oak had a special legendary value. Its rarity probably gave it value in the eyes of the Druids, and much later it had its mystic lore. "By sitting upon a hill late in a evening, near a Wood, in a few nights a fire drake will appeare, mark where it lighteth, and then you shall find an oake with Mistletoe thereon, at the Root whereof there is a Misle-childe, whereof many strange things are conceived.Beati qui non crediderunt."—Plat.,Garden of Eden, 1659, No. 68.

If it were not for the pretty notice of Moss in the last passage (6), we should be inclined to say that Shakespeare had as little regard for "idle Moss" as for the "baleful Mistletoe." In his day Moss included all the low-growing and apparently flowerless carpet plants which are now divided into the many families of Mosses, Lichens, ClubMosses, Hepaticæ, Jungermanniæ, &c., &c. And these plants, though holding no rank in the eyes of a florist, are yet deeply interesting, perhaps no family of plants more so, to those who have time and patience to study them. The Club Mosses, indeed, may claim a place in the garden if they can only be induced to grow, but that is a difficult task, and the tenderer Lycopodiums are always favourites when well grown among greenhouse Ferns; but for the most part, the Mosses must be studied in their native haunts, and when so studied, they are found to be full of beauty and of wonderful construction. Nor are they without use, and it is rather strange that Shakespeare should have so markedly called them "idle," or useless, considering that in his day many medical virtues were attributed to them. This reputation for medical virtues they have now all lost, except the Iceland Moss, which is still in use for invalids; but the Mosses have other uses. The Reindeer Moss (Cladonia rangiferina) and Roch-hair (Alectoria jubata) are indispensable to the Laplander as food for his reindeer, and Usnea florida is used in North America as food for cattle; the Iceland Moss (Cetraria Islandica) is equally indispensable as an article of food to all the inhabitants of the extreme North; and the Tripe de la Roche (Gyrophora cylindrica) has furnished food to the Arctic explorers when no other food could be obtained; while many dyes are produced from the Lichens, especially the Cudbear (a most discordant corruption of the name of the discoverer, Mr. Cuthbert), which is the produce of the Rock Moss (Lecanora tartarea). So that even to us the Mosses have their uses, even if they do not reach the uses that they have in North Sweden, where, according to Miss Bremer, "the forest, which is the countryman's workshop, is his storehouse, too. With the various Lichens that grow upon the trees and rocks, he cures the virulent diseases with which he is sometimes afflicted, dyes the articles of clothes which he wears, and poisons the noxious and dangerous animals which annoy him."

As to the beauty of Mosses and Lichens we have only to ask any artist or go into any exhibition of pictures. Their great beauty has been so lovingly described by Ruskin ("Modern Painters"), that no one can venture to do morethan quote his description. It is well known to many, but none will regret having it called to their remembrance—"placuit semel—decies repetita placebit"—space, however, will oblige me somewhat to curtail it. "Meek creatures! the first mercy of the earth, veiling with hushed softness its dentless rocks: creatures full of pity, covering with strange and tender honour the sacred disgrace of ruin, laying quiet fingers on the trembling stones to teach them rest. No words that I know of will say what these Mosses are; none are delicate enough, none perfect enough, none rich enough. . . . . They will not be gathered like the flowers for chaplet or love token; but of these the wild bird will make its nest and the wearied child its pillow, and as the earth's first mercy so they are its last gift to us. When all other service is vain from plant and tree, the soft Mosses and grey Lichens take up their watch by the headstone. The woods, the blossoms, the gift-bearing Grasses have done their parts for a time, but these do service for ever. Trees for the builder's yard, flowers for the bride's chamber, Corn for the granary, Moss for the grave."

[164:1]There may be special appropriateness in the selection of the "furr'd Moss" to "winter-ground thy corse." "The final duty of Mosses is to die; the main work of other leaves is in their life, but these have to form the earth, out of which other leaves are to grow."—Ruskin,Proserpina, p. 20.

We do not know when the Mulberry, which is an Eastern tree, was introduced into England, but probably very early.We find in Archbishop Ælfric's "Vocabulary," "morus vel rubus, mor-beam," but it is doubtful whether that applies to the Mulberry or Blackberry, as in the same catalogue Blackberries are mentioned as "flavi vel mori, blace-berian." There is no doubt that Morum was a Blackberry as well as a Mulberry in classical times. Our Mulberry is probably the fruit mentioned by Horace—

"Ille salubresÆstates peraget, qui nigris prandia MorisFiniet ante gravem quæ legerit arbore solem."

Sat.ii, 4, 24.

And it certainly is the fruit mentioned by Ovid—

"In duris hærentia mora rubetis."

Metam., i, 105.

In the Dictionarius of John de Garlande (thirteenth century)[167:1]we find, "Hec sunt nomina silvestrium arborum, qui sunt in luco magistri Johannis; quercus cum fago, pinus cum lauro, celsus gerens celsa;" and Mr. Wright translates "celsa" by "Mulberries," without, however, giving his authority for this translation.[167:2]But whenever introduced, it had been long established in England in Shakespeare's time.

It must have been a common tree even in Anglo-Saxon times, for the favourite drink, Morat, was a compound of honey flavoured with Mulberries (Turner's "Anglo-Saxons").[167:3]Spenser spoke of it—

"With love juice stained the Mulberie,The fruit that dewes the poet's braine."

Elegy, 18.

Gerard describes it as "high and full of boughes," and growing in sundry gardens in England, and he grew in his own London garden both the Black and the White Mulberry. Lyte also, before Gerard, describes it and says: "It is calledin the fayning of Poetes the wisest of all other trees, for this tree only among all others bringeth forth his leaves after the cold frostes be past;" and the Mulberry Garden, often mentioned by the old dramatists, "occupied the site of the present Buckingham Palace and Gardens, and derived its name from a garden of Mulberry trees planted by King James I. in 1609, in which year 935l.was expended by the king in the planting of Mulberry trees near the Palace of Westminster."[168:1]

As an ornamental tree for any garden, the Mulberry needs no recommendation, being equally handsome in shape, in foliage, and in fruit. It is a much prized ornament in all old gardens, so that it has been well said that an old Mulberry tree on the lawn is a patent of nobility to any garden; and it is most easy of cultivation; it will bear removal when of a considerable size, and so easily can it be propagated from cuttings that a story is told of Mr. Payne Knight that he cut large branches from a Mulberry tree to make standards for his clothes-lines, and that each standard took root, and became a flourishing Mulberry tree.

Though most of us only know of the common White or Black Mulberry, yet, where it is grown for silk culture (as it is now proposed to grow it in England, with a promised profit of from £70 to £100 per acre for the silk, and an additional profit of from £100 to £500 per acre from the grain (eggs)!!), great attention is paid to the different varieties; so that M. de Quatrefuges briefly describes six kinds cultivated in one valley in France, and Royle remarks, "so many varieties have been produced by cultivation that it is difficult to ascertain whether they all belong to one species; they are," as he adds, "nearly as numerous as those of the silkworm" (Darwin).

We have good proof of Shakespeare's admiration of the Mulberry in the celebrated Shakespeare Mulberry growing in his garden at New Place at Stratford-on-Avon. "That Shakespeare planted this tree is as well authenticated as anything of that nature can be, . . . and till this was planted there was no Mulberry tree in the neighbourhood. The tree was celebrated in many a poem, one especially by Dibdin, butabout 1752, the then owner of New Place, the Rev. Mr. Gastrell, bought and pulled down the house, and wishing, as it should seem, to be 'damned to everlasting fame,' he had some time before cut down Shakespeare's celebrated Mulberry tree, to save himself the trouble of showing it to those whose admiration of our great poet led them to visit the poetick ground on which it stood."—Malone.The pieces were made into many snuff-boxes[169:1]and other mementoes of the tree.

"The Mulberry tree was hung with blooming wreaths;The Mulberry tree stood centre of the dance;The Mulberry tree was hymn'd with dulcet strains;And from his touchwood trunk the Mulberry treeSupplied such relics as devotion holdsStill sacred, and preserves with pious care."

Cowper,Task, book vi.

[167:1]The Dictionarius of John de Garlande is published in Wright's "Vocabularies." His garden was probably in the neighbourhood of Paris, but he was a thorough Englishman, and there is little doubt that his description of a garden was drawn as much from his English as from his French experience.

[167:2]The authority may be in the "Promptorium Parvulorum:" "Mulberry, Morum (selsus)."

[167:3]"Moratum potionis genus, f. ex vino et moris dilutis confectæ."—Glossarium Adelung.

[168:1]Cunningham's "Handbook of London," p. 346, with many quotations from the old dramatists.

[169:1]Some of these snuff-boxes were inscribed with the punning motto "Memento Mori."

The three first passages, besides the notice of the Mushroom, contain also the notice of the fairy-rings, which are formed by fungi, though probably Shakespeare knew little of this. No.4names the Toadstool, and the four passages together contain the whole of Shakespeare's fungology, and it is little to be wondered at that he has not more to say on these curious plants. In his time "Mushrumes or Toadstooles" (they were all classed together) were looked on with very suspicious eyes, though they were so much eaten that we frequently find in the old herbals certain remedies against "a surfeit of Mushrooms." Why they should have been connected with toads has never been explained, but it was always so—

"The grieslie Todestoole growne there mought I see,And loathed paddocks lording on the same."—Spenser.

They were associated with other loathsome objects besides toads, for "Poisonous Mushrooms groweth where old rusty iron lieth, or rotten clouts, or neere to serpent's dens or rootes of trees that bring forth venomous fruit.[170:1]. . . Few of them are good to be eaten, and most of them do suffocate and strangle the eater. Therefore, I give my advice unto those that love such strange and new-fangled meates to beware of licking honey among thornes, lest the sweetnesse of one do not counteracte the sharpnesse and pricking of the other." This was Gerard's prudent advice on the eating of "Mushrumes and Toadstooles," but nowadays we know better. The fungologists tell us that those who refuse to eat any fungus but the Mushroom (Agaricus campestris) are not only foolish in rejecting most delicate luxuries, but also very wrong in wasting most excellent and nutritious food. Fungologists are great enthusiasts, and it may be well to take their prescriptioncum grano salis; but we may qualify Gerard's advice by the well-known enthusiastic description of Dr. Badham, who certainly knew much more of fungology than Gerard, and did not recommend to others what he had not personally tried himself. After praising the beauty of an English autumn, even in comparison with Italy, he thus concludes his pleasant and usefulbook, "The Esculent Funguses of England": "I have myself witnessed whole hundredweights of rich, wholesome diet rotting under trees, woods teeming with food, and not one hand to gather it. . . . I have, indeed, grieved when I reflected on the straitened conditions of the lower orders to see pounds innumerable of extempore beefsteaks growing on our Oaks in the shape ofFistula hepatica;Ag. fusipes, to pickle in clusters under them;Puffballs, which some of our friends have not inaptly compared to sweet-bread for the rich delicacy of their unassisted flavour;Hydna, as good as oysters, which they very much resemble in taste;Agaricus deliciosus, reminding us of tender lamb's kidneys: the beautiful yellowChantarelle, thatkalon kagathonof diet, growing by the bushel, and no basket but our own to pick up a few specimens in our way; the sweet nutty-flavouredBoletus, in vain calling himselfeduliswhen there was none to believe him; the daintyOrcella; theAg. hetherophyllus, which tastes like the crawfish when grilled; theAg. ruberandAg. virescens, to cook in any way, and equally good in all."

As to the fairy rings (Nos.1,2, and3) a great amount of legendary lore was connected with them. Browne notices them—

"A pleasant meadWhere fairies often did their measures tread,Which in the meadows makes such circles greenAs if with garlands it had crowned been."

Britannia's Pastorals.

Cowley said—

"Where once such fairies dance,No grass does ever grow;"

and in Shakespeare's time the sheep refused to eat the grass on the fairy rings (1); I believe they now feed on it, but I have not been able to ascertain this with certainty. Others, besides the sheep, avoided them. "When the damsels of old gathered may-dew on the grass, which they made use of to improve their complexions, they left undisturbed such of it as they perceived on the fairy rings, apprehensive that the fairies should in revenge destroy their beauty, nor was it reckoned safe to put the foot within the rings, lest they should be liable to fairies' power."—Douce'sIllustrations, p. 180.

[170:1]Herrick calls them "brownest Toadstones."

The following passage from Coles, in 1657, will illustrate No.1: "In Gloucestershire about Teuxbury they grind Mustard and make it into balls which are brought to London and other remote places as being the best that the world affords." These Mustard balls were the form in which Mustard was usually sold, until Mrs. Clements, of Durham, in the last century, invented the method of dressing mustard-flour, like wheat-flour, and made her fortune with Durham Mustard; and it has been supposed that this was the only form in which Mustard was sold in Shakespeare's time, and that it was eaten dry as we eat pepper. But the following from an Anglo-Saxon Leech-book seems to speak of it as used exactly in the modern fashion. After mentioning several ingredients in a recipe for want of appetite for meat, it says: "Triturate all together—eke out with vinegar as may seem fit to thee, so that it may be wrought into the form in which Mustard is tempered for flavouring, put it then into a glass vessel, and then with bread, or with whatever meat thou choose, lap it with a spoon, that will help" ("Leech Book," ii. 5, Cockayne's translation). And Parkinson's account is to the same effect: "The seeds hereof, ground between two stones, fitted for the purpose, and called a quern, with some good vinegar added to it to make it liquid and running, is that kind of Mustard that is usually made of all sorts to serve as sauce both for fish and flesh." And to the same effect the "Boke of Nurture"—

"Yet make moche of Mustard, and put it not away,For with every dische he is dewest who so lust to assay."

(L. 853).

Myrtle is of course the English form ofmyrtus; but the older English name was Gale, a name which is still applied to the bog-myrtle.[174:1]Though a most abundant shrub in the South of Europe, and probably introduced into England before the time of Shakespeare, the myrtle was only grown in a very few places, and was kept alive with difficulty, so that it was looked upon not only as a delicate and an elegant rarity, but as the established emblem of refined beauty. In the Bible it is always associated with visions and representations of peacefulness and plenty, and Milton most fitly uses it in the description of our first parents' "blissful bower"—

"The roofeOf thickest covert was inwoven shade,Laurel and Mirtle, and what higher grewOf firm and fragrant leaf."

Paradise Lost, iv.

In heathen times the Myrtle was dedicated to Venus, and from this arose the custom in mediæval times of using the flowers for bridal garlands, which thus took the place of Orange blossoms in our time.

"The lover with the Myrtle spraysAdorns his crisped cresses."

Drayton,Muse's Elysium.

"And I will make thee beds of Roses,And a thousand fragrant posies,A cap of flowers, and a kirtleEmbroidered o'er with leaves of Myrtle."

Roxburghe Ballads.

As a garden shrub every one will grow the Myrtle that can induce it to grow. There is no difficulty in its cultivation, provided only that the climate suits it, and the climate that suits it best is the neighbourhood of the sea. Virgil describes the Myrtles as "amantes littora myrtos," and those who have seen the Myrtle as it grows on the Devonshire and Cornish coasts will recognise the truth of his description.

[174:1]"Gayle; mirtus."—Catholicon Anglicum, p. 147, with note.

SeeDaffodils, p.73.

The Nettle needs no introduction; we are all too well acquainted with it, yet it is not altogether a weed to be despised. We have two native species (Urtica urens and U. dioica) with sufficiently strong qualities, but we have a third (U. pilulifera) very curious in its manner of bearing its female flowers in clusters of compact little balls, which is far more virulent than either of our native species, and is said by Camden to have been introduced by the Romans to chafe their bodies when frozen by the cold of Britain. The story is probably quite apocryphal, but the plant is an alien, and only grows in a few places.

Both the Latin and English names of the plant record its qualities. Urtica is fromuro, to burn; and Nettle is (etymologically) the same word as needle, and the plant is so named, not for its stinging qualities, but because at onetime the Nettle supplied the chief instrument of sewing; not the instrument which holds the thread, and to which we now confine the word needle, but the thread itself, and very good thread it made. The poet Campbell says in one of his letters—"I have slept in Nettle sheets, and dined off a Nettle table-cloth, and I have heard my mother say that she thought Nettle cloth more durable than any other linen." It has also been used for making paper, and for both these purposes, as well as for rope-making, the Rhea fibre of the Himalaya, which is simply a gigantic Nettle (UrticaorBöhmeria nivea), is very largely cultivated. Nor is the Nettle to be despised as an article of food.[177:1]In many parts of England the young shoots are boiled and much relished. In 1596 Coghan wrote of it: "I will speak somewhat of the Nettle that Gardeners may understand what wrong they do in plucking it for the weede, seeing it is so profitable to many purposes. . . . Cunning cookes at the spring of the yeare, when Nettles first bud forth, can make good pottage with them, especially with red Nettles" ("Haven of Health," p. 86). In February, 1661, Pepys made the entry in his diary—"We did eat some Nettle porridge, which was made on purpose to-day for some of their coming, and was very good." Andrew Fairservice said of himself—"Nae doubt I should understand my trade of horticulture, seeing I was bred in the Parish of Dreepdaily, where they raise lang Kale under glass, and force the early Nettles for their spring Kale" ("Rob Roy," c. 7). Gipsies are said to cook it as an excellent vegetable, and M. Soyer tried hard, but almost in vain, to recommend it as a most dainty dish. Having so many uses, we are not surprised to find that it has at times been regularly cultivated as a garden crop, so that I have somewhere seen an account of tithe of Nettles being taken; and in the old churchwardens' account of St. Michael's, Bath, is the entry in the year 1400, "Pro Urticis venditis ad Lawrencium Bebbe, 2d."

Nettles are much used in the neighbourhood of London to pack plums and other fruit with bloom on them, so that in some market gardens they are not only not destroyed,but encouraged, and even cultivated. And this is an old practice; Lawson's advice in 1683 was—"For the gathering of all other stone-fruit, as Nectarines, Apricots, Peaches, Pear-plums, Damsons, Bullas, and such like, . . . in the bottom of your large sives where you put them, you shall lay Nettles, and likewise in the top, for that will ripen those that are most unready" ("New Orchard," p. 96).

The "Nettle of India" (No.5) has puzzled the commentators. It is probably not the true reading; if the true reading, it may only mean a Nettle of extra-stinging quality; but it may also mean an Eastern plant that was used to produce cowage, or cow-itch. "The hairs of the pods of Mucuna pruriens, &c., constitute the substance called cow-itch, a mechanical Anthelmintic."—Lindley.This plant is said to have been called the Nettle of India, but I do not find it so named in Shakespeare's time.

In other points the Nettle is a most interesting plant. Microscopists find in it most beautiful objects for the microscope; entomologists value it, for it is such a favourite of butterflies and other insects, that in Britain alone upwards of thirty insects feed solely on the Nettle plant, and it is one of those curious plants which mark the progress of civilization by following man wherever he goes.[178:1]

But as a garden plant the only advice to be given is to keep it out of the garden by every means. In good cultivated ground it becomes a sad weed if once allowed a settlement. The Himalayan Böhmerias, however, are handsome, but only for their foliage; and though we cannot, perhaps, admit our roadside Dead Nettles, which however are much handsomer than many foreign flowers which we carefully tend and prize, yet the Austrian Dead Nettle (Lamium orvala, "Bot. Mag.," v. 172) may be well admitted as a handsome garden plant.

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