The derivation of marigold is somewhat obscure. In the “Grete Herball” of the sixteenth century the flower is spoken of as Mary Gowles, and by the early English poets as gold simply. As the first part of the word might be derived from the Anglo-Saxon mere—a marsh, it seems possible that the entire name may signify marsh-gold, which would be an appropriate and poetic title for this shining flower of the marshes.
Spice-bush. Benjamin-bush. Fever-bush.
Lindera Benzoin. Laurel Family.
An aromatic shrub from six to fifteen feet high. Leaves.—Oblong, pale underneath. Flowers.—Appearing before the leaves in March or April, honey-yellow, borne in clusters which are composed of smaller clusters, surrounded by an involucre of four early falling scales. Fruit.—Red, berry-like, somewhat pear-shaped.
These are among the very earliest blossoms to be found in the moist woods of spring. During the Revolution the powdered berries were used as a substitute for allspice; while at the time of the Rebellion the leaves served as a substitute for tea.
Yellow Adder’s Tongue. Dog’s Tooth Violet.
Erythronium Americanum. Lily Family.
Scape.—Six to nine inches high, one-flowered. Leaves.—Two, oblong-lance-shaped, pale green mottled with purple and white. Flower.—Rather large, pale yellow marked with purple, nodding. Perianth.—Of six recurved or spreading sepals. Stamens.—Six. Pistil.—One.
The white blossoms of the shad-bush gleam from the thicket, and the sheltered hill-side is already starred with the blood-root and anemone when we go to seek the yellow adder’s tongue. We direct our steps toward one of those hollows in the wood which is watered by such a clear gurgling brook as must appeal to every country-loving heart; and there where the pale April sunlight filters through the leafless branches, nod myriads of these lilies, each one guarded by a pair of mottled, erect, sentinel-like leaves.
PLATE XXXV
MARSH MARIGOLD.—C. palustris.
The two English names of this plant are unsatisfactory and inappropriate. If the marking of its leaves resembles the skin of an adder why name it after its tongue? And there is equally little reason for calling a lily a violet. Mr. Burroughs has suggested two pretty and significant names. “Fawn lily,” he thinks, would be appropriate, because a fawn is also mottled, and because the two leaves stand up with the alert, startled look of a fawn’s ears. The speckled foliage and perhaps its flowering season are indicated in the title “trout-lily,” which has a spring-like flavor not without charm. It is said that the early settlers of Pennsylvania named the flower “yellow snowdrop,” in memory of their own “harbinger-of-spring.”