“Trefoil, vervain, John’s wort, dill,
Hinders witches of their will.”
Guy Mannering.
Amongst the account-books of the Physic Garden in Chelsea, there is one on whose fly-leaf is scrawled a list of “Botanical Writers before Christ.” It begins:
- Zoroaster.
- Orpheus.
- Moses.
- Solomon.
- Homer.
- Solon.
Names that one hardly expects to find grouped together, and especially not under this heading. The vegetable world, however, has attracted writers since the earliest times, and in the days when supernatural agencies were almost always brought forward to account for uncomprehended phenomena, it was not marvellous that misty lore should lead to the association of plants and magic. The book of nature is not always easy to read, and the older students drew from it very personal interpretations. Some herbs were magical because they were used in spells and sorceries; others, because they had power in themselves. For instance, Basil, the perfume of which was thought to cause sympathy between two people, and in Moldavia they say it can even stop a wandering youth upon his way and make him love the maiden from whose hand he accepts a sprig. The Crocus flower, too, belongs to the second class, and brings laughter and great joy, and so it is with others. Plants were also credited with strong friendships and “enmities” amongst themselves. “The ancients” held strong views about their “sympathies and antipathies,” and this sympathy or antipathy was attributed to individual likes and dislikes. “Rue dislikes Basil,” says Pliny, “but Rue and the Fig-tree are in a great league and amitie” together. Alexanders loveth to grow in the same place as Rosemary, but the Radish is “at enmetie” with Hyssop. Savory and Onions are the better for each other’s neighbourhood, and Coriander, Dill, Mallows, Herb-Patience and Chervil “love for companie to be set or sowne together.” Bacon refers to some of these, but he took a prosaic view and thought these predilections due to questions of soil!
Being credited with such strong feelings amongst themselves, it is easier to understand how they were supposed to sympathise with their “environment.” Honesty, of course, grew best in a very honest man’s garden. Where Rosemary flourishes, the mistress rules. Sage will fade with the fortunes of the house and revive again as they recover; and Bay-trees are famous, but melancholy prophets.
Captain.—’Tis thought the king is dead; we will not stay,
The Bay-trees in our country are all wither’d.
Richard II. ii. 4.
From this, it is not a great step to acknowledge that particular plants have power to produce certain dispositions in the mind of man. So, the possession of a Rampion was likely to make a child quarrelsome: while, on the contrary, eating the leaves of Periwinkle “will cause love between a man and his wife.” Laurel greatly “composed the phansy,” and did “facilitate true visions,” and was also “efficacious to inspire a poetical fury” (Evelyn). Having admitted the power of herbs over mental and moral qualities, we easily arrive at the recognition of their power in regard to the supernatural. If, as Culpepper tells us, “a raging bull, be he ever so mad, tied to a Fig-tree, will become tame and gentle;” or if, as Pliny says, any one, “by anointing himself with Chicory and oile will become right amiable and win grace and favour of all men, so that he shal the more easily obtain whatsoever his heart stands unto,” it is not much wonder that St John’s Wort would drive away tempests and evil spirits, four-leaved Clover enable the wearer to see witches, and Garlic avert the Evil Eye. Thus many herbs are magical “in their own right,” so to speak, apart from those that are connected with magic, from being favourites of the fairies, the witches, and, in a few cases, the Evil One!
De Gubernatis quotes from a work on astrology attributed to King Solomon, and translated from the Hebrew (?) by Iroé Grego (published in Rome, 1750), with indignant comments on the “pagan” methods of the Church in dealing with sorceries. Directions how to make an aspersoir pour exorcisme are given in it, which, teaching, he says, simply add to the peasant’s existing load of superstition. Vervain, Periwinkle, Sage, Mint, Valerian, Ash and Basil are some of the plants chosen. “Tu n’y ajouteras point l’Hysope, mais le Romarin” (Rosemary). It is odd that Hyssop should be excluded, because it has always been a special defence against powers of darkness. In Palermo (again according to De Gubernatis), on the day of St Mark, the priests mount a hill in procession and bless the surrounding country, and the women gather quantities of the Hyssop growing about, and take it home to keep away from their houses the Evil Eye, and “toute autre influence magique.” Rosemary is celebrated, from this point of view, as from others. It was, say the Spaniards, one of the bushes that gave shelter to the Virgin Mary in the flight into Egypt, and it is still revered. Borrow, in “The Bible in Spain,” notices that, whereas in that country it is Romero, the Pilgrim’s Flower, in Portugal it is called Alecrim, a word of Scandinavian origin (from Ellegren, the Elfin plant), which was probably carried south by the Vandals. Other authorities think that “Alecrim” comes from the Arabians. The reference to Rosemary occurs in a delightful passage. Borrow was staying at an inn, when one evening “in rushed a wild-looking man mounted on a donkey.... Around his sombrero, or shadowy hat, was tied a large quantity of the herb, which in English is called Rosemary.... The man seemed frantic with terror, and said that the witches had been pursuing him and hovering over his head for the last two leagues.” On making inquiries, Borrow was told that the herb was “good against witches and mischances on the road.” He treats this view with great scorn, but says: “I had no time to argue against this superstition,” and with charming naïveté admits that, notwithstanding his austerity, when, next morning at departure, some sprigs of it were pressed upon him by the man’s wife for his protection, “I was foolish enough to permit her to put some of it in my hat.” The Sicilians thought that it was a favourite plant of the fairies, and that the young fairies, taking the form of snakes, lie amongst the branches. Dill, able to “hinder witches of their will,” was used in spells against witches, besides being employed by them. There was a strong belief that plants beloved by magicians, and powerful for evil in their hands, were equally powerful to avert evil when used in charms against witchcraft. Lunary, or Honesty, is another plant with a double edge. In France it is nicknamed Monnaie du Pape and Herbe aux Lunettes, and its shining seed-vessels have many pet names in English. “It has a natural power of dispelling evil spirits,” quotes Mr Friend, and explains this verdict by pointing that Lunary with its great silver disks, called after the moon, is disliked and avoided by evil spirits, who fear the light and seek darkness. Rue is used by witches and against them; in some parts of Italy a talisman against their power is made by sewing up the leaves in a little bag and wearing it near the heart. If the floor of a house be rubbed with Rue it is certain that all witches must fly from it. In Argentina grows the Nightmare flower, Flor de Pesadilla. The witches of that region extract from it a drug which causes nightmare lasting all night long, and they contrive to give it to whoever they wish to torment. Besides these, Pennyroyal and Henbane, Chervil and Vervain, Poppies, Mandrakes, Hemlock and Dittany were specially used by witches in making spells. Valerian, Wormwood, Elder, Pimpernel, Angelica, and all yellow flowers growing in hedgerows are antagonistic to them. Their dislike to yellow flowers may have arisen from these being often dedicated to the sun, and being therefore repellent to lovers of gloom and mystery. Angelica preserved the wearer from the power of witches or spells, and is, I think, the only herb quoted by Gerarde as a power against witchcraft. He does not condescend generally to consider superstitions other than medical. Of the herbs dedicated to the Evil One are Yarrow, sometimes known as the Devil’s Nettle; Ground-Ivy, called his Candlestick, and Houseleek, which he has rather unjustly appropriated. Mr Friend explains that in Denmark, “Old Thor” is a polite euphemism, and that the Houseleek really belonged to Thor, but has been passed on through confusion between the two. Yarrow or Milfoil has been used for divination in spells from England to China.