In this case we can perhaps understand why the name should have all but died out with the disappearance of these old ceremonies. But why should the name milk-wort have survived? Its scientific name, Polygala, is derived from Greek and means “much milk,” and the plant was supposed to encourage lactation. It is an instance of names being more long-lived than the beliefs which they chronicle.
There are, of course, many plants called after saints. Thus the pig-nut (Bunium) is called St Anthony’s nut, because, as quoted by Prior, “The wretched Antonius” was “forced to mind the filthy herds of swine.” The buttercup (R. bulbosus) was called St Anthony’s turnip from its tubers being said to be eaten by pigs.
St Catherine’s flower (Nigella) (generally known as love-in-a-mist or devil-in-a-bush) is called after the martyr from the arrangement of its styles, which recall the spokes of St Catherine’s wheel. I do not
mean the well-known fireworks but the instrument of torture on which the saint died. St James’ wort is the yellow daisy-like flower Senecio Jacobæa, known as rag-wort. It is said to have been used as a cure for the diseases of horses, of which he was the patron.
In the old herbals the cowslip is called St Peter’s wort from the resemblance of the flowers to a bunch of keys—no doubt the keys of heaven, of which Peter is custodian.
A number of plants were called after the Virgin Mary: these were doubtless known as Our Lady’s flowers, but their names have been corrupted in Protestant days by the omission of the pronoun.
Lady’s fingers (Anthyllis vulneraria) is a common enough plant bearing a head or tuft of yellow flowers. Each has a pale swollen calyx, and these are, I suppose, the fingers on which the name is founded, though I find it said that it originates in the leaflets surrounding the flower head.
Butcher’s broom is known in Wales as Mary’s holly, the latter half of the name referring to its red berries and prickly leaves. It was used to clean butcher’s blocks.
Lady’s slipper is so named from the strikingly shoe-like form of the flower. It is excessively rare in England, but in Southern France one may see great bunches gathered for sale, over which, by the way, I have often mourned.
Lady’s tresses (the orchid Spiranthes) is so named from the curious twisted or braided arrangement of the flowers.