Chapter I (2)

The DOG-ROSE (_Rosa canina_). This is one of the commonest of our numerous species of English wild rose--a family which, like the brambles, willows, and others, has by some botanists been cut up into several species from more or less obvious botanical marks, frequently of a nature, however, which subjects them to be by other observers considered as mere variations depending upon chance external influences; thus, while one writer reduces the various rose forms to five specific types, another, of equally high standing, mentions nineteen species as occurring in Britain. This refinement of scientific observation will, however, be of no real service to the designer: for his purpose the dog-rose, the most familiar of our English species, may be accepted as a fairly typical flower. The garden varieties of roses are derived from the _Rosa sempervirens_ of Southern Europe, the _R. Indica_, an Asiatic species, and many others. The sweet-briar, _R. rubiginosa_, one of our wild English species, is also a favourite in many gardens from the fragrance of its leaves when pressed in the hand. The

word rose is derived, according to some authors, from the Celtic _rhos_, which is in turn derived from the adjective _rhodd_, red; while others affirm that it descends to us from the Latin _rosa_, itself deduced from the Greek _rodon_, derived from _erythros_, red; but we are unable to give any satisfactory clue to the meaning of the prefix “dog” in the familiar English name, the same idea being also evidently expressed in the specific word _canina_, in the French _rose de chien_, and the German _Hundrose_. Some writers, however, imagine it to refer to the uselessness of the plant, and quote the scentless or dog-violet as another illustration in support of their theory. Even on the lowest utilitarian ground this theory is scarcely tenable, since the plant is largely used by gardeners as a stock for grafting, while the fruit is also considerably employed in medicine. The rose, though commonly met with in ornament throughout the whole of the Decorated and Perpendicular periods of Gothic, is more especially found in the latter, since it was then employed not merely on its own merits, but also as the badge of the Tudors; hence, as an heraldic form, we frequently meet with it in secular no less than in ecclesiastical work. It is also, we need scarcely say, the badge of England, as the shamrock and thistle are of Ireland and Scotland respectively. It was also the personal badge of Edward I., and the family device of the De la Warres. Examples of the heraldic use of the rose are very numerous; it may merely suffice to mention Hampton Court and Henry VII.’s Chapel at Westminster as abounding in illustrations. In the church at Hawton, Nottinghamshire, in a sculptured representation of the Resurrection, there is as a background a very elaborate and beautiful diaper of the rose--its leaves, flowers, and buds being all employed; this, as the Rose of Sharon, may be considered as introduced in a symbolic sense, though we must here mention that the plant ordinarily known as the Rose of Sharon is not a true rose at all botanically. It is one of the Hypericums. A golden rose has from time to time been given by the popes to those whom they more especially desired to reward for services rendered to the Church: Henry VIII. of England received, together with his title “Defender of the Faith,” this mark of honour from Pope Alexander VI. The dog-rose will be found in flower in early summer, the colour of the blossoms varying on different shrubs from pure white to a deep pink; the brilliant scarlet fruit, an equally ornamental feature, being met with as the season advances. Illustrations of the natural growth of the plant will be seen in M. B. 139, S. C. 100, P. F. 7, 90, 96; and T. N. O. 51.

Examples of its use in decorative art occur at Winchester, where a hollow moulding is filled with a waved line of rose leaves and flowers; in a boss in Beverley Minster; in a glass quarry at Yaxley, Suffolk; in a more conventionalised treatment in a panel of Perpendicular period, East Harling Church, Norfolk; a very good example as a glass quarry, Milton Church, Cambridge; in a piece of oak-carving in the stalls at Wells; in the carving of a tomb in Bourges Cathedral; a capital at Miraflores; a hollow moulding wreathed with alternate flowers and leaves in one of the doorways of Notre Dame, Paris. Many other instances might be given, but these will suffice to show how favourite a plant the rose has been in past ornament. The following extract from the old herbalist Gerarde, though the adulation is, from its implied reference to Elizabeth, somewhat fulsome, is a further illustration of its association heraldically with the Tudors: “The plant of roses, though it be a shrub full of prickles, yet it had bin more fit and convenient to have placed it with the most glorious flowers of the world, than to insert the same here among base and thorny shrubs” (this allusion refers to Gerarde’s system of classification), “for the rose doth deserve the chief and prime place among all flowers whatsoever, being not only esteemed for his beauty, vertues, and his fragrant and odoriferous smell, but also because it is the honour and ornament of our English Scepter, in the uniting of those two most Royall Houses of Lancaster and Yorke.”

The subject of our next illustration is derived from the FEVERFEW (_Chrysanthemum parthenium_), a plant widely distributed over Britain, but at the same time with doubtful claims to be considered a true native; it is, however, thoroughly at home in those places in which it is to be met with, and from the clear white daisy-like flowers and the delicate green of its handsome foliage it merits the attention of designers of ornamental art. From its lightness and the deep cutting of the leaves, the feverfew would be found of more service in painted or engraved ornament than in any kind of relief work. The feverfew has a reputation among herbalists as a bitter and tonic; and no doubt, before the introduction of quinine and such-like more powerful remedies, would possess a valued and considerable remedial virtue. The familiar English name implies this, and is one of the numerous class of names, as eyebright, goutweed, lungroot, livelong, wormwood, &c., given to plants in recognition of their real or fancied medicinal use. Drawings of the natural growth of the feverfew may be seen in E. B. 715; M. B. 249; P. F. 39.

FOOL’S PARSLEY. We have selected this plant, the _Æthusa cynapium_, as a good representative of the very large order of plants known botanically as the _Umbelliferæ_. The whole of the plants of this order, as the name implies, have their flowers growing in umbels, that is to say, all the flower-stalks start from one point on the stem, and radiate from the common centre. Many of the _Umbelliferæ_, as the parsley, carrot, fennel, and celery, must be familiar to our readers, though they may not have noticed particularly this umbellate mode of flowering. Several of the species are exceedingly poisonous: of these we may instance the hemlock, the water-dropwort, and the present plant. With very few exceptions, the flowers of the whole of the plants of this order are either white or yellow. The fool’s parsley is so called from a slight resemblance which the plant bears to the common parsley of the kitchen-garden. Though the differences are not difficult to detect--the flowers, for instance, of the fool’s parsley being white, and those of garden-parsley yellow; the leaves of the first giving a disagreeable odour when bruised, and those of the second a rich aromatic scent--the want of a little circumspection has frequently led to serious and even fatal results. The plant is the more dangerous from its being rarely met with except on cultivated ground. The generic name, _Æthusa_, is given to it in allusion to its acrid nature, being derived from a Greek word signifying to burn, while _cynapium_ means dog’s parsley. Though as yet we have said nothing but evil of it, it is but just to add in its favour that, ornamentally, it is a very desirable plant for insertion in our list, the leaves, flower-buds, and general growth being very graceful, and well suited for the decoration of any delicate fabric. For illustrations of the plant we would refer you to F. L. vol. i. 18; S. C. 8; S. B. 139. It will be found in flower during July and August.

The GROUND-IVY (_Nepeta glechoma_), the subject of our next two illustrations, is so commonly distributed throughout Britain, that there can be but little need of our dwelling at any great length upon a description of it, though, from its habit of trailing on the ground and among the roots of larger plants, it is not so conspicuous to the eye as many others. Its English name, ground-ivy, refers to its slight resemblance in mode of growth to the common ivy, though in every other respect they are very dissimilar, the ground-ivy having rounded or reniform leaves growing in pairs up the stem, the flowers large and of a brilliant colour, tubular and bisymmetrical, while in the ivy the leaves terminate in an acute point, and spring singly from the stem, the flowers small, pale green, multisymmetrical in form, and composed of five distinct petals. The generic name, _Nepeta_, is derived from _nepa_, a scorpion, from an old belief that the bite of the scorpion was rendered harmless if treated by means of a recipe of which a preparation of our present plant was the leading ingredient. The flower of the ground-ivy, though generally of a deep purplish blue, may sometimes be met with of a pure white. This variation from a given colour to white is comparatively not uncommon in many of our wild plants, though more especially noticeable in

plants of normally blue or purple flowers: thus the purple foxglove, blue Jacob’s ladder, pink herb-robert, purple snapdragon, blue harebell, and many others, are occasionally to be found with white blossoms. The ground-ivy, from its abundance, and also from its past and present medicinal use, may be met with in the works of various authors under a great choice of synonyms: of these alehoof is the most common; others, almost equally familiar, being creep-by-ground and cat’s-foot. When not in flower the general appearance of the marsh pennywort (_Hydrocotyle vulgaris_) is, to a casual observer, not altogether unlike that of the ground-ivy; but the pennywort is only met with on swampy ground, the leaves are peltate or shield-like, the stalk rising from the centre of the under side of the leaf, as we see it in the more familiar garden nasturtium (_Tropæolum majus_), differing in these respects from the ground-ivy. When in blossom, the contrast between the greenish-yellow flower of the pennywort and the deep purple of the flowers of the ground-ivy is too marked to permit of any chance of error. The only examples of the use of the ground-ivy

with which we are acquainted in the ornament of the past are in a small spandrel in one of the doorways at Rheims Cathedral, and on some of the flooring tiles from the ruins of the Abbey of Chertsey, Surrey. In the latter case the leaves are four in number, in a cruciform arrangement within a quatrefoil--a very simple yet true and effective treatment of the plant; for as the leaves grow, as we have already mentioned, in pairs, and as each pair of leaves is placed upon the stem at right angles to the pairs immediately above and beneath it, the effect produced in looking down upon the plant is necessarily cruciform in character. A great variety of these Chertsey tiles may be seen in the South Kensington Museum: though very simple in design, they afford excellent examples of the true application of the principles which should govern the introduction of natural forms, and are well worthy of the attention of the student of decorative art. In both these cases, Rheims and Chertsey, the leaves alone are employed, as the flowers, from their intricacy of detail and position upon the plant, would require the aid of colour to bring them out with due effect; hence, while the ground-ivy, during its period of flowering, is admirably adapted for surface decoration, muslins, wall-papers, and many other such-like purposes, it is but ill suited to relief-work in stone or wood. Refer to S. B. 172; E. B. 1055; F. L. vol. ii. 44; M. B. 28, for illustrations of the natural growth of the ground-ivy.

GROUNDSEL, though a plant exceedingly likely to be overlooked, is on that account the more deserving of a place in our list, as it really possesses qualities which fully entitle it to the consideration of the student of ornamental art, the general growth of a good specimen being very vigorous and characteristic, and the variety of beautiful forms seen in the leaves a further recommendation. The botanical name is _Senecio vulgaris_. _Senecio_ is derived from _senex_, an old man, in allusion to the grey heads of seed-down which succeed the blossoms. The groundsel may be met with abundantly almost everywhere, and may at all times of the year be found in flower. Drawings of the plant may be seen in E. B. 749; F. L. vol. i. 61; P. F. 2.

The HAREBELL (_Campanula rotundifolia_). This graceful little plant may generally be found in profusion on dry and hilly pastures and heaths, though by no means in such localities exclusively, as the roadside hedge-bank is another favourite spot. There are ten species indigenous to England, most of them of great beauty and adaptability to art-requirements: of these we may in particular mention the _C. hederacea_, the ivy-leaved campanula, a little plant by no means uncommon in moist shady pastures and swampy low-lying ground. The present species is abundant everywhere throughout Europe and Northern Asia. The Canterbury bell (_C. medium_) is an allied and familiar garden species.

The generic name, _Campanula_, means a little bell, and from the shape of the corolla is aptly applied to these plants. _Rotundifolia_, meaning round-leaved, seems at first sight a misnomer, as the leaves most easily visible on a cursory glance at the plant are thin and strap-shaped. The lower leaves of the plant, however, are rounded in form; and, as we study the foliage, we shall see a delicate ascending gradation of form, from the rounded leaves at the lower end of the stem, to the thin, almost grass-like leaves of the upper part. Drawings of the harebell will be found in T. N. O. 80; P. F. 12.

The HAZEL-NUT (_Corylus avellana_) is so familiar a shrub that any lengthened description of it must be needless, or, to quote our old writer, Gerarde: “Our hedge-nut, or hazel-nut tree, which is very well knowne, and therefore needeth not any description, whereof there are also sundry sorts, some great, some little, as also one that is in our gardens, which is very

great, bigger than any filberd, and yet a kinde of hedge-nut; this then that hath beene said shall suffice for hedge-nuts.” The smaller twigs of the hazel afford an excellent charcoal for artistic purposes, and the long straight shoots, thrown up with such rapidity and vigour, are largely employed in the manufacture of the crates in which earthenware is packed--a use for which their size and flexibility combined with great strength admirably fit them, as the rods, when the wood is still green, may be bent almost double before they will give way. There is a pleasing appropriateness in its English name, hazel-nut, derived from the Anglo-Saxon _haesel_, a hat, and _hnut_, a nut or ball, which we notice and appreciate when we see the fruit in its natural state, surrounded by the foliaceous and cap-like partial envelope formed by the scales of the involucre. The generic name also, _Corylus_, refers to this peculiarity of growth, being derived from a Greek word signifying a covering for the head. The natural order to which the hazel belongs includes several trees of great value to man, either on account of their timber or their fruit--such, for example, as the beech, Spanish chestnut, and the oak; and in the olden time, when a belief in the use of the divining-rod, as an indicator of subterranean springs, was common, the mystic virtue was sought in the forked twigs of the hazel. The size of the leaves and the striking character of the fruit alike combine to render it a plant admirably fitted for the purposes of ornamental art, though the only example of its use, so far as we are aware, may be seen in a hollow moulding in the cathedral at Winchester, where, upon a continuous scroll running along the centre of the moulding, both foliage and fruit are introduced. The leaves are deeply serrated, and the nuts grow in clusters of two, three, or four, the general treatment being very naturalistic. Among the many extraordinary remedies in use by our ancestors, hazel-nuts occupied a place, being employed in complaints affecting the chest, though, even then, when scarcely any reputed remedy seems to have been thought too fanciful and absurd, some appear to have ventured to doubt the efficacy of the medicine, bringing down upon themselves the scathing rebuke of the faculty, as we find in the following extract from an old medical work, where, after the setting forth of the benefits to be derived from the use of the hazel as a remedial agent, he goes on to say:--“And if this be true, as it is, then why should the vulgar so familiarly affirm that eating nuts causeth shortness of breath? than which nothing is falser. For how can that which strengthens the lungs cause shortness of breath? I confess the opinion is far older than I am; I know tradition was a friend to error before, but never that he was the father of slander; or are men’s tongues so given to slandering one another, that they must slander nuts too to keep their tongues in use? And so thus have I made an apology for nuts, which cannot speak for themselves.” For illustrations of the growth of the nut, see W. H. H., Plate B, Fig. 1; T. N. O. 127.

Our next illustration is derived from the HAWTHORN, WHITETHORN, or MAY (_Cratægus oxycantha_), a plant familiar to every one, from its being so extensively used for hedgerows; its strength, closeness of growth, and spiny character, admirably adapting it to the purpose. The wood is very hard, and will take a high polish; the generic name, _Cratægus_, from a Greek word signifying strength, being an allusion to this characteristic of the plant. Its use as a hedgerow plant in England dates, according to Sowerby, from the time of the Romans, and of this there can be but little doubt, as its most common name--hawthorn--is, literally, the hedge-thorn, from the Saxon word _hage_. The second name--white-thorn--has been given to it in contradistinction to the black-thorn (_Prunus spinosa_), a somewhat similar, and, in a wild state, almost equally common plant; the

stems of the latter being very dark in colour, while in the hawthorn or white-thorn they are comparatively light. The third name, May, has obvious reference to the time of flowering. The leaves of the plant are exceedingly varied in form, affording a great choice for the selection of the ornamentist; some being very simple in character, while others are deeply cut, and very rich and beautiful in outline. A permanent variety may be occasionally met with, in which the leaves, instead of being of the ordinary deep and bluish green, are in addition irregularly blotched with varying and intermingling tones of yellow. The flowers also of the hawthorn are subject to considerable variation in colour: the typical state is a pure milky white; but owing to the nature of the soil in which the plant is found, the blossoms may occasionally be seen varying from a pale pink to almost crimson. The berries, also, though generally of a deep crimson colour, are sometimes of an intensely golden yellow. An old writer, Culpepper, in his “British Herbal,” a treatise partly astrological and partly medicinal, having first stated that the plant is under the dominion of Mars, thus defines the medicinal properties of the hawthorn:--“The seeds in the berries, beaten to powder, being drank in wine, are held singular good against the dropsy. The seed, cleared from the down, bruised and boiled in wine, and drank, is good for inward tormenting pains. If cloths and sponges be wet in the distilled water, and applied to any place wherein thorns and splinters, or the like, do abide in the flesh, it will notably draw them forth. And thus you see the thorn gives a medicine for its own pricking, and so doth almost everything else.”

Though to a certain extent foreign to our subject, we may perhaps be permitted to say that, to the naturalist, as well as to the botanist and the designer of ornamental art, the tree possesses considerable attractions, the berries being the favourite fruit of many of our birds, and the foliage being sometimes completely stripped by the larvæ of various butterflies and moths, such as the small Ermine, the Brimstone moth, and many others; while among the poets, Chaucer, Milton, Shakspeare, Wordsworth, Goldsmith, Bampfylde, and Tennyson, have all found in it a source of beauty and inspiration. It has also been one of the favourite plants of the ornamentists, occurring very commonly in the works of the Middle Ages. It would be both tedious and unnecessary to give anything like an exhaustive catalogue of its use in past art: as good examples out of many, we would merely cite its occurrence in a finial in the Lady Chapel, Exeter; as a stone-diaper alternating with oak, at Lincoln; in two fine spandrels, and a beautiful capital, very full and rich in its wreathing, in the Chapter-house, Southwell. Other examples occur in the cathedrals at Ely, Wells, and Winchester. Wherever met with in ornamental art, the leaves and berries are the parts selected: to the best of our knowledge the flowers have never, in any instance, been introduced, no doubt from the fact of the minuteness and delicacy of each individual blossom, and its habit of growing in clusters, which, though extremely beautiful in nature, are, from their intricacy of detail, unsuited to the purposes of the ornamentist. Similarly, though the plant in its natural growth is often exceedingly spiny, it is, in ornamental art, represented as almost or entirely without this characteristic feature, as there would be a great practical difficulty, in any kind of relief-work at least, in the satisfactory introduction of forms so minute and fragile, yet requiring so high a relief. Drawings of hawthorn will be found in P. F. 68; T. N. O. 52.

The HERB-ROBERT (_Geranium Robertianum_) is one of the numerous family of cranesbills, so called from a supposed resemblance between the form of the fruit and the bill of that bird, a resemblance also indicated in the generic name, _Geranium_, derived

from the Greek _geranos_, a crane. The herb-robert is one of the most abundantly distributed plants of the genus, being met with throughout the whole of Britain and in many other parts of the world, growing upon all kinds of soils, and flourishing equally well upon hedge-banks, waste ground, and old walls. Owing to the foliage turning a brilliant crimson in autumn, the plant becomes very striking and conspicuous as the year advances, a peculiarity which will greatly aid its identification by those of our readers who are not acquainted with it. The flowers are of a delicate pink colour, though they may occasionally be met with of a pure white: this variety grows abundantly near Nutfield, in Surrey, for instance. The whole of the cranesbill family will well repay the attention and study of the ornamentist, the dove’s-foot cranesbill (_G. molle_), and the blue meadow cranesbill (_G. pratense_), being especially suited to the requirements of the designer. The latter is a very striking plant, and when once seen cannot well be mistaken, each flower being almost two inches in diameter, of a deep purple blue, and veined with lines of reddish purple: the leaves also are very deeply cut, and of a highly ornamental character. An illustration of the ornamental treatment of the herb-robert may be seen in an elaborate specimen of embroidery, last-century work, in the South Kensington Museum; while drawings of the natural plant can be referred to in T. N. O. 38; V. W. 412; F. L. vol. i. 52; P. F. 34.

HOLLY (_Ilex aquifolium_). This plant, from its association with winter, should be one of those familiar to the student of ornamental art. Drawings of it may be found in S. B. 184; W. H. H., Plate A, Fig. 4; P. F. 27; G. O. 95. The holly is indigenous to most parts of Europe. Its influence may be traced in the names of several places, as for example Holmwood, near Dorking; the holly by old writers being also termed Holm and Hulver. Though ordinarily met with as a hedgerow shrub, it will, if allowed to grow, attain to no inconsiderable height--often thirty to forty feet; while a particularly fine specimen at Claremont, in Surrey, is a little over eighty feet high, and has a trunk six feet in circumference. The growth is very slow, the timber close-grained and hard, the annual layers of woody fibre being exceedingly compact. This fineness of grain, its whiteness and its beauty when polished, render it of great service in carving and inlay work. It has also been extensively used in the place of box for wood-engraving, and for the blocks used for engraving the patterns of calicoes and wall-papers. It would no doubt be still more extensively used than it is did not its rarity render it so costly, as, though holly bushes are plentiful enough, the owner of a fine tree is generally loath to have it cut down. The chief use of the holly is in the formation of hedges, as its formidable spines, evergreen foliage, its slight attraction for insects, and closeness of growth, are all valuable recommendations; we often thus meet with it in old-fashioned gardens. “Is there under heaven a more glorious and refreshing object of the kind than an impregnable hedge, of 160 feet in length, 7 feet high, and 5 in diameter, which I can show in my poor gardens at any time of the year, glittering with its armed and varnished leaves? It mocks at the rudest assaults of the weather, beasts, or hedge-breakers.” This hedge, the pride of John Evelyn’s garden, did not prove so impregnable to the hedge-breaker as its owner fondly thought, since one of the great amusements of the Czar Peter, during his stay with Evelyn, was to trundle a wheelbarrow through it, to the ultimate ruin of the hedge and the no small sorrow of its hospitable owner.

A variety of holly having yellow berries is sometimes met with. Some little while ago, a branch with bright orange-coloured berries was exhibited at one of the meetings of the Linnæan Society, a scion of the yellow-fruited variety having been grafted on a scarlet-berried stock, with this curious result. The holly may also sometimes be met with having variegated leaves, the normal dark glossy green being blotched with a clear yellow or white. The lower leaves of the tree are edged with sharp spines, while the upper branches have the foliage quite free from these:--

“Below, a circling fence, its leaves are seen
Wrinkled and keen;
No grazing cattle, through their prickly round,
Can reach to wound;
But as they grow where nothing is to fear,
Smooth and unarmed the pointless leaves appear.”
SOUTHEY.

Ornamentally, the holly may be met with in a glass quarry in Brandeston Church, Suffolk; also on a mediæval flooring-tile in the British Museum. We are not aware of any other ancient examples of its use, though doubtless those given do not exhaust the list. We trust, should another edition be called for, to be able, by further investigation, to remedy this shortcoming. The name holly is a corruption of holy, and alludes to its connection with Christmas. In some of the old herbals it is written “holy tree,” while in some countries this connection is rendered still more emphatic, the German name being _Christdorn_, the Danish and Swedish, _Christorn_.

The next subject we have chosen as an illustration of the adaptability of our native plants to the purposes of the ornamentist is the HOP (_Humulus lupulus_). Though we do not recall any example of its use in the ornament of the past, except in one of the capitals at Southwell Minster, it nevertheless appears to us a plant well deserving of a place in our columns. Its climbing habit, the beauty of the leaves, and the size of the cones, are all features which in an especial manner seem to fit it for the service of the designer; and it appears curious that, while so great a choice was at the disposal of the old carvers, they practically left so large a field untouched. Our architecture, for instance, abounds with details of oak, maple, and hawthorn; yet the nut and the wild rose, plants at least as striking and as common, occur but rarely, while the hop, bindweed, blackberry, and many others, seem to have been almost entirely neglected. The hop is found in a truly wild state in our hedgerows and copses, its weak stems,

powerless to support themselves, trailing a long distance, and running up any tree or other support with which they may come in contact, and wreathing it with their beautiful clusters of foliage and fruit. It is also largely cultivated in England, France, Belgium, and Germany; its tonic properties, and the fragrant bitter principle found in it, chemically termed lupuline, being, it is almost needless to say, utilised in the making of beer. It was thus first used in the reign of Henry VIII., before that time the fresh top shoots of broom being employed to give the desired bitterness. The young shoots are in some parts of the country cooked and eaten like asparagus. Gerarde, writing in the reign of Elizabeth, says, “The hop joyeth in a fat and fruitfull ground, also it groweth amongst briers and thornes about the borders of fields. The flowers are used to season beere or ale with, and too many do cause bitternesse thereof, and are ill for the head. The manifold vertues of hops do manifest argue the wholesomnesse of beere, for the hops rather make it a physicall drinke to keep the body in health, than an ordinary drinke for the quenching of our thirst.” The leaves of the hop are sometimes heart-shaped, at others divided into three very distinctly marked lobes, in either case the margins being deeply serrate. The order to which the hop belongs includes many plants useful to man, as, for instance, among several others, the hemp, mulberry, fig, the _Urostigma elasticum_, yielding india-rubber, and the bread-fruit tree.

About forty million pounds weight of hops are annually employed in brewing in England. Kent and Surrey are the chief means of supply, though those grown in the rich soil of the Vale of Severn, in the neighbourhood of Worcester, are by no means inferior to the best Kentish. The crop is a very speculative one, the dangers which surround it being legion; the profits are, however, so great that the grower is reimbursed if one crop in three should turn out well. The hops grown in the neighbourhood of Farnham command the highest prices. The etymology of the word is unknown; the Germans term it _Hopfen_. Hops have been cultivated in Germany from time immemorial, and it is from thence that we derive both the plant and its name. Drawings of the natural growth will be found in E. B. 1284, S. C. 41; T. N. O. 125; and P. F. 4.

The YELLOW-HORNED POPPY (_Glaucium luteum_) will no doubt have attracted the attention of many from the peculiarity of its habitat, growing and flourishing as it does by the seashore, where little else appears to thrive, and by the delicate green of its foliage, the brilliant yellow of its blossom, and its spreading growth, covering large expanses of the shingly beach with a very striking and beautiful carpet. The pods, a highly ornamental feature, may occasionally be found almost a foot in length, and, together with the form of leaf and locality of growth, effectually distinguish it from the yellow Welsh poppy (_Meconopsis Cambrica_). The scarlet-horned and the violet-horned poppies, allied species, are both exceedingly rare in England: the latter, from its finely-cut leaves and size of the flowers, is well adapted to art-purposes. The yellow-horned poppy will be found in flower from June to October. Drawings of it occur in E. B. 66; P. F. 91.

IVY (_Hedera helix_). We have already, in speaking of the ground-ivy, dwelt to a certain extent upon the characteristics of the present plant, and, from its abundance and conspicuous appearance, any lengthened descriptive details must be unnecessary, as there can be but few to whom the ivy is not perfectly familiar. We meet with it upon old buildings, rocks, and in the woods and hedgerows, running over the surface of the ground, or covering the trunks and main branches of the trees with its interlacing stems and masses of rich foliage. Opinions have been very varied as to whether the luxuriant growth of the ivy is detrimental or not to the trees which it embraces; for while some have considered that its presence is a benefit, and particularly in severe winters, others have held that the compression caused by the long and closely adhering branches impairs the vigour and stunts the growth of the tree. The belief that the ivy, like the mistletoe, draws its nourishment from the tree is now no longer held, as it has been satisfactorily proved that the so-called rootlets (or, as they are perhaps more expressively termed by De Candolle, _crampons_) which we see thrown out from the clinging stems do not drain the sap of the supporting tree, but must be regarded as a beautiful mechanical contrivance to aid, by their support and grasp, the ascent of the ivy. We find that these little bodies are equally developed where masses of rock

have to be scaled, and that the plant thrives with equal vigour where support is clearly their sole function; and if, on the other hand, the ivy runs upon the ground, the _crampons_ are not developed, as no such supporting members are then needed. The ivy is one of the plants indigenous to Britain, and derives its familiar name from the Anglo-Saxon _ifig_. Considerable differences of opinion have been held as to the meaning of the generic name, _Hedera_: the best derivation appears to us to be that which assigns as its origin the old Celtic word for rope or cord, _hedra_, as it exactly expresses the characteristic appearance of the growth. The ivy flowers during October and November, a time of the year when but few other plants are in blossom; hence it becomes the favourite resort of various insects, while the berries are fully ripe by March, and afford a welcome food for the blackbird, missal-thrush, wood-pigeon, and many others, at a season when, from the scarcity of other food, they become peculiarly acceptable. The Romans dedicated the ivy to Bacchus, and in their sculpture he is generally represented as crowned by an ivy wreath, from an old belief, mentioned by Pliny and others, that the plant thus worn neutralised the intoxicating effects of wine. The leaves of the ivy vary very considerably in form, a feature which the ornamentist will appreciate. The leaves upon the flowering branches are somewhat egg or heart shaped, with a very acute point, the more familiar ornamental form of the five-lobed leaf not being found upon this portion of the plant; hence it is perhaps scarcely legitimate to employ the berries with the five-pointed form of leaf, though in the introduction of the plant in the ornament of the Middle Ages this was entirely disregarded. The ivy was one of the favourite plants of the mediæval ornamentist. Examples of its use are very numerous: of these we need mention but a few. We find the leaves and branches alone introduced, for instance, in wood-carving in the stalls of the choir of St. Margaret’s Church, Lynn; in stonework, as a crocket, in the Chapter-house, Wells; as the foliage of one of the capitals in the choir of Lincoln Cathedral; and in a beautiful example at the springing of an arch at the Minster, Southwell. We find the berries introduced with the leaves (in every case the leaf having five points) in a hollow moulding in the cloisters at Burgos in a particularly beautiful manner; and in Paris on one of the capitals of the Sainte Chapelle, and again in a similar position in the chancel of Notre Dame--the first of these being twelfth-century work, and curious from the very acute form of leaf employed; the second dating from the fourteenth century. A very good English example may be seen in a spandrel in the Chapter-house, Southwell. In ancient art we find the Egyptians representing Osiris as bearing an ivy-wreathed _thyrsus_; and upon the Greek and Etruscan vases preserved in the British Museum we frequently see running bands of ornament which we can have little doubt are based upon the ivy: in most of the examples the berries are introduced together with the heart-shaped form of leaf, though in a few cases a three-pointed or a rounded form of leaf, still distinctly ivy-like in character, is substituted. Refer to T. N. O. 71; G. O. 93.

Our next illustration is derived from the IVY-LEAVED SPEEDWELL (_Veronica hederifolia_), a plant of frequent occurrence, but which, from its weak trailing habit and small size, may very easily be overlooked. It may generally be met with on hedge-banks, and flowers freely from March to August with a delicate pale blue bi-symmetrical blossom. Drawings of the ivy-leaved speedwell will be found in E. B. 970; S. B. 184.

Several of the veronicas are well adapted, from their grace and delicacy of form, to the purposes of ornamental art, the brooklime (_V. beccabunga_) and the germander speedwell (_V. chamædrys_) being especially good. The flowers of all the species are bisymmetrical in form. The germander speedwell is by some writers supposed to be the true forget-me-not.

The MUSK MALLOW (_Malva moschata_), and the COMMON MALLOW (_M. sylvestris_), the subjects of our next illustrations, are both common plants, the musk mallow being frequently met with, and more especially on gravelly soils, while the common mallow, though rare in Scotland, is abundant throughout England on all kinds of ground. The flower of the common mallow is of a pale purplish tint, with the veins of a darker purple: a very rare variety has been met with, having the flowers of a pure blue. The leaves are round in general outline, but deeply lobed into five or seven divisions, and in olden time, before the introduction of many of our present vegetables into England, were a common article of diet. This, together with the musk mallow and the marsh mallow (_Althæa officinalis_), possesses considerable medicinal repute, the whole plant being mucilaginous and demulcent in character. The roots of the Althæa, boiled in water, will yield

one half their weight of a glutinous matter, of great value from its emollient qualities; the leaves and fruit will also yield it, but in a lesser degree. The virtues of the family have long been recognised. Pliny held that whosoever should take a little of the extract should throughout that day be free from all fear of disease. Dioscorides considered it a sure antidote in cases of poisoning; while Hippocrates taught that its soothing action especially fitted it as a vulnerary. The flowers of the musk mallow are very large, and of a pure and delicate pink, the leaves very deeply divided, a feature distinguishing it from all the other British species of mallow. Its English name is suggested by the slight musky smell of the foliage if pressed in the hand. The _Malvaceæ_ are chiefly tropical plants; about six hundred species are known, almost all possessing the mucilaginous character of our British species, many yielding in addition a valuable fibre, and some American and Asiatic species producing the well-known cotton, a filamentous substance enveloping the seeds. The hollyhock of our gardens also belongs to this family. The generic name, _Malva_, is derived from a Greek word signifying to soften, in allusion to the soothing effect of the greater number of the genus, while the English name has clearly descended from the Anglo-Saxon _malu_. Drawings of the common mallow may be seen in F. L. vol. ii. 51; M. B. 54; P. F. 1; V. W. 393. The musk mallow will be found in F. L. vol. iv. 50; T. N. O. 23.

The MAPLE (_Acer campestre_) is generally met with as a small hedgerow tree throughout England, but it is not common in either Scotland or Ireland. The wood, though small in section, is often very beautifully veined, and thus becomes of service for furniture, inlay, &c. The bark is exceedingly rough, full of deep furrows, and very much resembling cork in its appearance. The fruit is winged. The specific name, _campestre_, refers to the localities in which the plant may be found, the open fields; while the generic name, _Acer_, sharp or hard, in Celtic _ac_, has been bestowed upon it from the toughness of the wood. It was extensively used by the ancient Britons in the fabrication of weapons of war--spikes, spears, and lance handles. The English name evidently descends from the Saxon _mapul-dre_. We thus in these few words, _Acer campestre_, the maple, learn where the plant is to be found; one of its striking features, the hardness of the wood; and also, from its Saxon name, the fact of its being one of our indigenous shrubs. This has, from the beautiful forms of the leaves and fruit, been largely introduced in mediæval work. It occurs, for instance, very beautifully treated, as one of a series of small spandrels in the stalls of Lincoln Cathedral, and again in a spandrel in the choir of Winchester. On the Continent two very beautiful examples of it are seen in hollow mouldings in the cathedrals of Evreux, and of Notre Dame, Paris. All these specimens are of the fourteenth century. Drawings of the natural growth may be seen in T. N. O. 30; P. F. 26; G. O. 94.

KING-CUP, or MARSH MARIGOLD (_Caltha palustris_), a plant by no means uncommonly met with in marshy ground, water-courses, and such-like localities. It may frequently be found in tidal streams, growing in such a position that at high tide it is completely covered; we have thus seen it by the side of the Thames, flourishing in great vigour and beauty, and at full tide swaying with the force of the stream at a depth of from one to two feet from the surface. In such situations the plant grows with luxuriance, and from the large size and brilliant yellow of its star-like flowers, the vigorous growth of the rich green foliage, and the long succulent stems, it becomes a striking feature even in the mass of bold healthy vegetation so commonly found by the edges of a water-course: these, therefore, are the characters which, in embodying the plant in any design, we must endeavour to enforce. We are unacquainted with any early examples of the use of the marsh marigold, except in one page of a fifteenth-century illustration. This is the more curious since the name marigold has reference to its use in the church-decorations of the Middle Ages, upon those days more especially devoted to the festivals associated with the Virgin Mary; we should naturally, therefore, have thought that, thus brought before the attention, its ornamental features would have been perceived and permanently embodied in some capital or spandrel. The generic name, _Caltha_, is derived from a Greek word signifying cup, and expressively points out a beautiful feature in the form of the flower; while the specific name, _palustris_, is drawn from the Latin _palus_, a marsh, and clearly indicates the localities naturally chosen by the plant. The plant will be found in flower in the spring, remaining for a considerable time in full bloom, and from its perennial nature will, when once established in any locality, soon become a permanent addition to the flora of the district. Representations of the natural growth of the marsh marigold will be found in E. B. 40; P. F. 54.

The MISTLETOE--Anglo-Saxon, _mistelta_ (_Viscum album_)--is so well known that it would appear strange that so familiar a plant has been but little employed in mediæval art, did we not remember that its pagan associations had placed it under a ban. The only example of its use that has come under our observation is in one of the spandrels of a tomb in Bristol Cathedral. The natural growth will be found portrayed in M. B. 270; W. H. H., Plate A, Fig. 3; P. F. 88. The lightness of the plant, and its association with Christmas, seem features that render a knowledge of it desirable to the ornamentist. It appears to us a plant capable of very extensive use in the various developments of decorative art. We need only mention a few--the backs of playing-cards, earthenware, muslins, chintzes, wall-papers. Many other uses will, no doubt, readily suggest themselves to our readers.

The OAK (_Quercus robur_), while perhaps our best-known indigenous tree, from its wealth of legendary, religious, and historic associations, has also been one of the favourite subjects of the ornamentist, being abundantly found in carving, stencilling, draperies, glass, &c., both in England and on the Continent,

throughout the whole range of the Decorated and Perpendicular styles of Gothic, and the corresponding periods in France, Spain, and Germany, and also afterwards in the various modifications of the Renaissance. To refer at any length to the varied associations surrounding it would be foreign to our present purpose, though its sacred character in the Druidical rites of the ancient Britons, the importance of its timber for the purposes of the shipwright and architect, the commercial value of the bark for use in tanning, leading to the felling of thousands of trees every year, its use in medicine, the bark being a powerful astringent, and an infusion from the galls so frequently found upon the oak being an excellent antidote in cases of poisoning by the tartrate of antimony, are all points of interest or utility in connection with it. It has also been one of the favourite trees of the poets--Dryden, Pope, Cowper, Wordsworth, and many others, having referred to it in their writings; while to the artist the rugged majesty and vigour of the branches in winter, the brilliant bronze red of the early spring foliage, the deep mass of dark green leaves in summer-time, or the fiery glow it bears when touched by the frosts of advancing winter, render it at all times a beautiful and striking object in the landscape. The galls so generally met with upon the leaves of the oak are caused by a small insect, the _Cynips Quercus-folii_, which, by puncturing the leaf and laying an egg in the wound, causes a diseased and abnormal growth of the part: on cutting one of these galls open the grub will generally be found within. The galls chiefly used in medicine and commerce, though similar in their origin, are the work of another little insect on a different and foreign species of oak.

Though the oak is so familiar a tree in our woods and hedgerows, it must at one time, when England was extensively covered by forests, have been still more abundant. We are led to this conclusion from the great number of places whose names, handed down to us from our early history, derive their force and meaning from this abundance: thus Ockham, in Surrey, is literally Ocham, the place of oaks, a title which it still well deserves. Ockley, Acton, Acworth, and many more examples, might be cited. Superstition, too, with its usual fertility of invention, has not failed to detect the strange and marvellous in the oak. Of this, did space permit, and were it not somewhat foreign to our subject, we could quote many curious instances.

In the works of the ornamentist, to the best of our knowledge, the _Q. robur_ form of the oak has been exclusively used. To give an extended list of the places where illustrations of its use in design occur would be to devote far more space to it than is really needful: as an example of its use in stonework, we would instance a small, but good capital at Ely, where one pleasing, natural, and ornamental feature, the empty cup of the acorn contrasting with the other forms, is very well introduced. We see this same attention to natural detail in some flowing foliage in a hollow moulding at Henry VII.’s Chapel, Westminster: the leaves are so deeply cut into lobes, and so modified in form, that except for the presence of the acorns, we should not recognise the foliage as being that of the oak at all. A very clear and good piece of oak is introduced in some wood-carvings at the ends of the stalls at Wells Cathedral; again, in crockets at Exeter, in the Lady Chapel; in a stone boss, St. Cuthbert’s screen, St. Alban’s Abbey Church; in wooden spandrels at Winchester, and Northfleet Church, Kent; as a diaper in glass quarries at Fulbourne and Waterbeach Churches, in Cambridgeshire; and as a carving at the arch-springing at Southwell Minster, Nottinghamshire. On the Continent, in Burgos Cathedral, we meet with several exceedingly beautiful carvings of the maple, plane, vine, and many other plants--among them a square panel filled with oak, and a very graceful running band of leaves and acorns round the tomb of Don Juan II.; and in Paris, in the Sainte Chapelle, we also find a hollow moulding filled with running oak foliage. In the South Kensington Museum many excellent fragments of wood-carving are preserved, and among these the oak is very often visible; while in the ceramic collection we frequently see the borders of the Majolica dishes and plates entirely composed of interlaced branches of oak. The oak is, in this latter series of examples, of heraldic significance as the badge of the Dukes of Urbino. Representations of the natural growth of the oak may be seen in E. B. 1288; M. B. 126; P. F. 9; S. C. 151; G. O. 95; T. N. O. 127.

OX-EYE DAISY (_Chrysanthemum leucanthemum_). The impressions we at once derive on seeing the natural plant are--first, the size and brilliant star-like character of the flowers, as we view it growing amidst the long grass; secondly, the beautiful contrast of form, colour, and light and shade between the deep yellow, convex central portion and the brilliant white and concave rays surrounding it; and thirdly, the comparative smallness and insignificance of the leaves: hence it appears to us that in any adaptation of the plant to the purposes of the designer, these are salient points to be observed. We find it growing very freely in meadows, on the sunny side of railway banks, &c., and, where found at all, generally in great profusion. During the past summer, by the side of the river Wey, we came across a plant that had firmly established itself, and was growing and flowering in full health and vigour in the crown of a pollard willow tree, about eight feet from the ground. It is one of the plants regarded by the farmer with dislike, as it generally indicates great dryness of soil, and,