There is an old tradition of a certain life-giving herb, which was known to birds, and a story is told of how one day an old man watched two birds fighting till one was overcome. In an almost exhausted state it went and ate of a certain herb, and then returned to the onslaught. When the old man had observed this occur several times, he went and plucked the herb which had proved so valuable to the little bird; and when at last it came once more in search of the life-giving plant, and found it gone, it uttered a shrill cry, and fell down dead. The name of the herb is not given; but the story has such a strong family likeness to that narrated by Forestus, in which the Goat’s Rue is introduced, that, probably, Galega is the life-giving herb referred to. The story told by Forestus is as follows:—A certain old man once taking a walk by the bank of a river, saw a Lizard fighting with a Viper; so he quietly lay down on the ground, that he might the better witness the fight without being seen by the combatants. The Lizard, being the inferior in point of strength, was speedily wounded by a very powerful stroke from the Viper—so much so, that it lay on the turf as if dying. But shortly recovering itself, it crept through the rather long Grass, without being noticed by the Viper, along the bank of the river, to a certain herb (Goat’s Rue), growing there nigh at hand. The Lizard, having devoured it, regained at once its former strength, and returning to the Viper, attacked it in the same way as before, but was wounded again from receiving another deadly blow from the Viper. Once more the Lizard secretly made for the herb, to regain its strength, and being revived, it again engaged with its dangerous enemy—but in vain; for it experienced the same fate as before. Looking on, the old man wondered at the plant not less than at the battle; and in order to try if the herb possessed other hidden powers, he pulled it up secretly, while the Lizard was engaged afresh with the Viper. The Lizard having been again wounded, returned towards the herb, but not being able to find it in its accustomed place, it sank exhausted and died.
Numerous plants have had the names of birds given to them, either from certain peculiarities in their structure resembling birds, or because they form acceptable food for the feathered race. Thus the Cock’s Comb is so called from the shape of its calyx; the Cock’s Foot, from the form of its spike; and the Cock’s Head (the Sainfoin), from the shape of the legume. The Crane’s Bill and the Heron’s Bill both derive their names from the form of their respective seed vessels. The Guinea Hen (Fritillaria meleagris) has been so called from its petals being spotted like this bird. The Pheasant’s Eye (Adonis autumnalis) owes its name to its bright red corolla and dark centre; the Sparrow Tongue (the Knot-grass) to its small acute leaves; and the Lark’s Spur, Heel, Toe, or Claw (Delphinium) to its projecting nectary. Chickweed and Duckweed have been so called from being favourite food for poultry. The Crow has given its name to a greater number of plants than any other bird. The Ranunculus is the Coronopus or Crow Foot of Dioscorides, the Geranium pratense is the Crowfoot Crane’s Bill, the Lotus corniculatus is called Crow Toes, the Daffodil and the Blue-bell both bear the name of Crow Bells, the Empetrum nigrum is the Crow Berry, Allium vineale is Crow Garlick, Scilla nutans, Crow Leeks, and the Scandix Pecten, Crow Needles. The Hen has a few plants named after it, the greater and lesser Hen Bits (Lamium amplexicaule and Veronica hederifolia); the Hen’s Foot (Caucalis daucoides), so called from the resemblance of its leaves to a hen’s claw; and Henbane (Hyoscyamus niger), which seems to have derived its name from the baneful effects its seeds have upon poultry.
Plants connected with Animals.
The Ass has named after it the Ass Parsley (Æthusa Cynapium), and the Ass’s Foot, the Coltsfoot, Tussilago Farfara. William Coles says that “if the Asse be oppressed with melancholy, he eates of the Herbe Asplenion or Miltwaste, and eases himself of the swelling of the spleen.” D. C. Franciscus Paullini has given, in an old work, an account of three Asses he met in Westphalia, which were in the habit of intoxicating themselves by eating white Henbane and Nightshade. These four-footed drunkards, when in their cups, strayed to a pond, where they pulled themselves together with a dip and a draught of water. The same author relates another story. A miller of Thuringia had brought meal with his nine Asses into the next district. Having accepted the hospitality of some boon companions, he left his long-eared friends to wander around the place and to feed from the hedgerows and public roads. There they chanced to find a quantity of Thistles that had been cut, and other food mixed with Hemlock, and at once devoured the spoil greedily and confidently. At dusk, the miller, rising to depart, was easily detained by his associates, who cried out that the road was short, and that the moon, which had risen, would light him better than any torch. Meanwhile, the Asses, feeling the Hemlock’s power in their bodies, fell down on the public road, being deprived of all motion and sensation. At length, about midnight, the miller came to his Asses, and thinking them to be asleep, lashed them vigorously. But they remained motionless, and apparently dead. The miller, much frightened, now besought assistance from the country-folks, but they were all of one opinion, that the Asses were dead, and that they should be skinned the next day, when the cause of such a sudden death could be inquired into. “Come,” said he, “if they are dead, why should I worry myself about them—let them lie. We can do no good. Come, my friends, let us return into the inn—to-morrow you will be my witnesses.” Meanwhile the skinners were called; and, after looking at the Asses, one of them said, “Do you wish, miller, that we should take their skins off; or would you be disposed, if we restored the beasts to life, to give us a handsome reward? You see they are quite in our power. Say what you wish, and it shall be done, miller.” “Here is my hand,” replied the miller, “and I pledge my word that I will give you what you wish, if you restore them to life.” The skinner, smiling, caught hold of the whip, and lashing the beasts with all his might, roused all from their lethargic condition. The rustics were confounded. “O! you foolish fellows,” said he, “look at this herb (showing them some Hemlock), how profusely it grows in this neighbourhood. Do you not know that Hemlock causes Asses to fall into a profound sleep?” The rustics, flocking together under a Lime-tree, as rustics do, made there and then a law that whosoever should discover, in field or garden, or anywhere else, that noxious plant, he should pluck it quickly, in order that men and beasts might be injured by it no more.
The Bear has given its name to several English plants. The Primula Auricula, on account of the shape of its leaves, is called Bear’s Ears; the Helleborus fœtidus, for a similar reason, is known as Bears Foot; Meum athamanticum is Bear’s-wort; Allium ursinum, Bear’s Garlic; and Arctostaphylos uva ursi, Bear’s Berry, or Bear’s Bilberry; the three last plants being favourite food of Bears. The Acanthus used at one time to be called Bear’s Breech, but the name has for some unaccountable reason been transferred to the Cow Parsnip, Heracleum Sphondylium. In Italy the name of Branca orsina is given to the Acanthus. This plant was considered by Dioscorides a cure for burns. Pliny says that Bear’s grease had the same property. De Gubernatis states that two Indian plants, the Argyreia argentea and the Batatas paniculata, bear Sanscrit names signifying “Odour pleasing to Bears.”
The Bull has given its name to some few plants. Tussilago Farfara, generally called Coltsfoot, is also known as Bull’s-Foot; Centaurea nigra is Bull’s-weed; Verbascum Thapsus is Bullock’s Lungwort, having been so denominated on account of its curative powers, suggested, on the Doctrine of Signatures, by the similarity of its leaf to the shape of a dewlap. The purple and the pale spadices of Arum maculatum are sometimes called Bulls and Cows. The Great Daisy is Ox-Eye; the Primula elatior, Ox-Lip; the Helminthia echioides, Ox-Tongue; and the Helleborus fætidus, Ox-Heel. The Antirrhinum and Arum maculatum are, from their resemblance in shape, respectively known as Calf’s Snout and Calf’s Foot.
Cats have several representative plants. From its soft flower-heads, the Gnaphalium dioicum is called Cat’s Foot; from the shape of its leaves, the Hypochæris maculata is known as Cat’s Ear; the Ground Ivy, also from the shape of its leaves, is Cat’s Paw; two plants are known as Cat’s Tail, viz., Typha latifolia and Phleum pratense. Euphorbia helioscopia, on account of its milky juice, is Cat’s Milk; and, lastly, Nepeta cataria is denominated Cat-Mint, because, as Gerarde informs us in his ‘Herbal,’ “Cats are very much delighted herewith: for the smell of it is so pleasant unto them, that they rub themselves upon it, and wallow or tumble in it, and also feed on the branches very greedily.” We are also told by another old writer that Cats are amazingly delighted with the root of the plant Valerian; so much so, that, enticed by its smell, they at once run up to it, lick it, kiss it, jump on it, roll themselves over it, and exhibit almost uncontrollable signs of joy and gladness. There is an old rhyme on the liking of Cats for the plant Marum, which runs as follows:—
“If you set it,
The Cats will eat it;
If you sow it,