The hour when, to the dial true,
Cichorium to the towering lark
Lifts her soft eye, serenely blue.”
The Germans say that once upon a time the Endives were men under a ban. The blue flowers, which are plentiful, were good men; the white flowers, much rarer, were evil-doers.——The blue star-like blossom is a most popular flower in Germany: it is the Wegewarte—the watcher of the roads; the Wegeleuchte, or lighter of the road; the Sonnenwende, or Solstice; the Sonnenkraut, or herb of the sun; and the Verfluchte Jungfer, or accursed maiden. An ancient ballad of Austrian Silesia recounts the history of a young girl who for seven years mourned for her lover, fallen in the wars. When her friends wished to console her, and to procure for her another lover, she replied: “I shall cease to weep only when I become a wild flower by the wayside.”——Another version of the German legend is that a loving maiden anxiously expected the return of her betrothed from a voyage upon which he had long since set out. Every morning she paced the road where she had last bade adieu to him; every evening she returned. Thus she wearily passed her time during many a long month. At last, utterly worn out with watching and waiting, she sank exhausted by the wayside, and, broken-hearted, expired. On the spot where she breathed her last sigh sprang up a little pale flower which was the Wegewarte, the watcher of the road.——In Bavaria, the same legend is met with, differing only in details. A young and beautiful princess was abandoned by her husband, a young prince of extraordinary beauty. Grief exhausted her strength, and finding herself on the point of death, she exclaimed: “Ah, how willingly would I die if I could only be sure of seeing my loved one, wherever I may be. Her ladies-in-waiting, hearing her desire, solemnly added: “And we also would willingly die if only we were assured that he would always see us on every roadside.” The merciful God heard from heaven their heart-felt desires, and granted them. “Happily,” said He, “your wishes can be fulfilled; I will change you into flowers. You, Princess, you shall remain with your white mantle on every road traversed by your husband; you, young women, shall remain by the roadside, habited in blue, so that the prince must see you everywhere.” Hence the Germans call the wild Succory, Wegewarten.——Gerarde tells us that Placentinus and Crescentius termed the Endive, Sponsa solis, Spouse of the Sun (a name applied by Porta to the Heliotrope), and we find in De Gubernatis’ Mythologie des Plantes, the following passage:—“Professor Mannhardt quotes the charming Roumanian ballad, in which is recounted how the Sun asked in marriage a beautiful woman known as Domna Florilor, or the Lady of the Flowers; she refused him, whereupon the Sun, in revenge, transformed her into the Endive, condemned for ever to gaze on the Sun as soon as he appears on the horizon, and to close her petals in sadness as the luminary disappears. The name of Domna Florilor, a kind of Flora, given by the Roumanians to the woman loved by the Sun, reminds us somewhat of the name of Fioraliso, given in Italy to the Cornflower, and which I supposed to have represented the Sun. The Roumanian legend has, without doubt, been derived from an Italian source, in its turn a development of a Grecian myth—to wit, the amour of the Sun, Phœbus, with the lovely nymph Clytie.” (See [Heliotrope]).——There is a Silesian fairy tale which has reference to the Endive:—The magician Batu had a daughter named Czekanka, who loved the youthful Wrawanec; but a cruel rival slew the beloved one. In despair, Czekanka sought her lover’s tomb, and killed herself beside it. Whilst in her death throes, she was changed into the blue Succory, and gave the flower its Silesian name Czekanka. Wrawanec’s murderer, jealous of poor Czekanka, even after her death, threw on the plant a swarm of ants, in the hope that the little insects might destroy the Succory, but the ants, on the contrary, in their rage, set off in pursuit of the murderer, and so vigorously attacked him, that he was precipitated into a crevasse on the mountain Kotancz.——In Germany and in Rome, where a variety of estimable qualities are ascribed to the plant, they sell Endive-seed as a panacea, but especially as a love philtre. They would not uproot it with the hand, but with a bit of gold or a stag’s horn (which symbolise the disk and the rays of the Sun), on one of the days of the Apostles (June 29th and July 25th). A girl thus uprooting an Endive will be assured of the constancy of her lover.——Endive, carried on the person, is supposed to enable a lover to inspire the object of his affections with a belief that he possesses all the good qualities she could wish for. Endive-root breaks all bonds, removes thorns from the flesh, and even renders the owner invisible.——The herb is held to be under the rule of Venus.
ERAGROSTIS.—Among the Hindus, the Eragrostis cynosuroides is considered a sacred Grass, and is employed by them for strewing the floors of their temples. In England, it is known as Love Grass.
ERYSIMUM.—The Hedge Mustard, Bank Cress, or Jack-by-the-Hedge (Erysimum Barbarea) is called by the French St. Barbara’s Hedge Mustard and the Singer’s Plant (herbe au chantre), and up to the time of Louis XIV. was considered an infallible remedy in cases of loss of voice. Racine, writing to Boileau, recommended the syrup of Erysimum to him when visiting the waters of Bourbonne, in order to be cured of loss of voice. Boileau replied that he had heard the best accounts of the Erysimum, and that he meant to use it the following summer.——The plant is held to be under Mercury.
ERYNGO.—The Sea Eryngo (Eryngium maritimum) is, perhaps, better known by the name of Sea Holly, which has been given it on account of the striking resemblance of its foliage to the Holly. According to Rapin, Eryngo possessed magical properties, inasmuch as, if worn by young married women, it ensured the fidelity of their husbands. On this account, Sappho employed it to secure the love of Phaon, the handsome boatman of Mitylene, for whom the poetess had conceived so violent a passion, that at length, mortified at his coldness, she threw herself into the sea. Rapin says:—
“Grecian Eryngoes now commence their fame,
Which, worn by brides, will fix their husband’s flame,
And check the conquests of a rival dame.