Rowan

'Mountain Ash, called also by the old names of Rodden, Quicken or Witchen tree, is a tree of good omen. In Scandinavian mythology, it is Thor’s helper, because it bent to his grasp when he was crossing the river Vimur, on his way to the land of the Frost Giants. The wood of the Rowan was also used to preserve the Norse ships from Ran, who delighted in drowning mariners.

The Rowan is generally considered to have been one of the sacred trees of the Druids. Stumps of the Mountain Ash have frequently been found within or near the circle of a Druid temple, thus proving that the tree must have been an object of great veneration to the Druids, who doubtless practised their sacred rites beneath its shade. This connection of the tree with Druidic customs affords some explanation of the many superstitious ideas appertaining to the Mountain Ash which are still extant. Lightfoot tells us that the Rowan tree is discovered in the Druidic circles of North Britain more frequently than any other and that even now pieces of it are carried about by superstitious people as charms to protect them from witchcraft. 

Like the Indian Mimosa (a tree of the same genus and of a similar character) or the Palasa, which it resembles in its graceful foliage and berries, the Mountain Ash has for ages been held in high repute as a preservative against magic and sorceries. Thus we find in Jamieson’s ‘Scottish Dictionary’ that “the most approved charm against cantrips and spells was a branch of the Rowan tree planted and placed over the byre. This sacred tree cannot be removed by unholy fingers.”  The Scotch peasantry considered the Rowan a complete antidote against the effects of witchcraft and the Evil Eye and inconsequence, a twig of it was very commonly carried in the pocket; but that it might have complete efficacy, it was necessary that it should be accompanied by the following couplet, written on paper, wrapped round the wood and secured by a red silk thread:

“Rowan Ash and red thread

Keep the devils frae their speed.”

Another version of this charm renders it thus:

“Roan-tree and red thread,

Haud the witches a’ in dread.”

Pennant remarks that the Scotch farmers carefully preserve their cattle against witchcraft by placing branches of Honeysuckle and Mountain Ash in the cowhouses on the 2^nd of May; the milkmaids of Westmoreland often carry in the hands or attached to their milking-pails a branch of the Rowan-tree from a similar superstitious belief; the dairymaids of Lancashire prefer a churn-staff of Rowan-wood to that of any other tree, as it saves the butter from evil influences; and in the North of England a brand of ‘Wiggin’ (Mountain Ash) is frequently hung up in stables, it being deemed a most efficacious charm against witchcraft. Formerly, in some parts of the country, it was considered that a branch or twig held up on the presence of a witch was sufficient to render her deadliest wishes of no avail. In an ancient song, called the “Laidly Worm of Spindlestone Heughs” is an allusion to this power of the Rowan-tree over witches:

“Their spells were vain; the hags return’d

To the queen in sorrowful mood,

Crying that witches have no power

Where there is Roan-tree wood.”

In Cornwall, the Mountain Ash is called “Care”, and if there is a suspicion of a cow being bewitched or subjected to the Evil Eye, the herdsmen will suspend a branch over her stall, or twine it round her horns. Evelyn says that the Mountain Ash was reputed to be a preservative against fascination and evil spirits, “whence, perhaps, we call it ‘Witchen’; the boughs being stuck about the door or used for walking-staves.” 

In Wales, this tree was considered so sacred in his time, that there was not, he tells us, a churchyard without one of them planted in it. At the present time, in Montgomeryshire, it is customary to rest of the corpse on its way to the churchyard under a Mountain Ashe, as that tree is credited with having furnished the wood of the Cross. 

In olden times, collars of the wood of the Rowan-tree were put upon the necks of cattle, in order to protect them from spells or witchcraft. In many parts of England, it was formerly the custom in cases of the death of animals supposed to be bewitched, to take out the heart of one of the victims, stick it over with pins, and burn it to a cinder over a fire composed of the wood of a Rowan-tree which, as we have seen, has always been considered a terror and dread to witches.

“Black luggie, lammer bead,

Rowan-tree and red thread,

Put the witches to their speed.”

A witch touched with a branch of this sacred tree by a christened man was deemed doomed to be the victim carried off by the Devil, when he next came to claim his tribute. 

Like the Hazel, Thorn and Mistletoe, it was deemed, according to Aryan tradition, to be an embodiment of the lightning, from which it sprang, and was, moreover, thought to posses the magical power of discovering hidden treasure.

In the days of the Fenians, according to the Gaelic legend of ‘The Pursuit of Diarmuid and Grainne’, there grew in Ireland a celebrated Mountain Ashe called the Quicken-tree of Dubhros which bore some wonderful berries. The legend informs us that, “There is in every berry of them the exhilaration of wine, and the satisfying of old mead, and whoever shall eat three berries of them has he completed and hundred years, he will return to the age of thirty years.” These famed berries of the Quicken-tree of Dubhros were jealously guarded by one Searbhan Lochlannach, “a giant, hideous and foul to behold”, who would allow no one to pluck them: he was, however, slain by Diarmuid O’Duibhne, and the berries placed at the disposal of his wife Grainne, who had incited her husband to obtain them for her.' 

 

 From : Plant Lore, Legends & Lyrics – Richard Folkard

Linden

'The origin of the Lime-tree, according to Ovid, is to be traced to the metamorphosis of Baucis, the good-hearted wife of an aged shepherd named Philemon. This old couple lived happily and contentedly in a humble cottage in the plains of Phrygia. Here they one day, with rustic hospitality, entertained unknowingly the gods Jupiter and Mercury, who had been refused admittance to the dwellings of their wealthier neighbours. Appreciating their kindness, Jupiter bade them ascend a neighbouring hill, where they saw their neighbours’ dwellings swept away by a flood, but their own but transformed into a splendid temple, of which the god appointed them the presiding priests. According to their request, they both died at the same hours, and were changed into trees – Baucis into a Lime and Philemon into an Oak. Ovid thus described the transformation :

“Then, when their hour was come, while they relate
These pas adventures at the temple gate,
Old Baucis is by old Philemon seen
Sprouting with sudden leaves of sprightly green:
Old Baucis looked where old Philemon stood,
And saw his lengthened arms a sprouting wood;
New roots their fastened feet began to bind.
Their bodies stiffen in a rising rind.
Then, ere the bark above their shoulders grew,
They give and take at once their last adieu.
At once, farewell, O faithful spouse they said,
At once th’ incroaching rinds their closing lips invade.
Ev’n yet an ancient Tyanaean shows
A spreading Oak that near a Linden grows.”

Rapin, in his version of the tale, makes both of the old folks become Limes, male and female :

“While these you plant, Philemon call to mind,
In love and duty with his Baucis joined –
A good old pair whom poverty had tried,
Nor could their vows and nuptial faith divide;
Their humble cot with sweet content was blessed;
And each benighted stranger was their guest.
When Jove unknown they kindly entertained,
This boon the hospitable pair obtained,
Laden with years, and weak through length of time,
That they should each become a verdant Lime,
And since the transformation Limes appear
Of either sex; and male and female are.”

In honour of its descent from the worthy old couple, the Lime became the symbol of wedded love.

In Scandinavian mythology, Sigurd, after having killed the serpent Fafnir, bathes himself in its blood: a leaf of a Linden or Lime-tree falls on him between his shoulders, and renders that particular place vulnerable, although every other portion of his body had become invulnerable.

In Germany, during May-day festivities, they often make use of the Linden. Around the Linden dance the villagers of Gotha. In Finland and Sweden, the Linden is considered as a protective tree.

In the cemetery of the hospital of Annaberg, in Saxony, there is a very ancient Linden-tree, concerning which tradition relates that it was planted by an inhabitant, with its top in the ground; and that its roots became branches, which now over-shadow a considerable portion of the country.


At Suderheistede, in Ditmarschen, there once stood a Linden which was known throughout the country as the “Wonderful Tree”. It was much higher than other trees, and its branches all grew crosswise. Connected with this tree was an old prophecy that, as soon as the Ditmarschens lost their freedom, the tree would wither; and so it came to pass. But the people believe that a magpie will one day build its nest in its branches, and hatch five young ones, and then the tree will begin to sprout out anew, and again be green, and the country recover its ancient freedom.

According to an old legend current in Berlin, the youngest of three brothers fell in love with the daughter of an Italian, who was the Elector’s chief Kapellmeister on the occasion of a public execution; when, suddenly, the assembled crowd were horrified at seeing the Italian fall with a loud shriek, and pointing to a knife which had been plunged into his bosom. The brothers were all three arrested on suspicion of the murder; and the eldest, who had been standing nearest the deceased, was speedily sentenced to death. The two other brothers, to save him, however, each declared he was the real murderer, whereupon the perplexed judge referred the case to the Elector, who resolved upon a curious ordeal to ascertain the truth. He ordered each of the three brothers to carry a Linden-tree to a certain churchyard, and plant it with its head downwards, adding, that the one whose tree did not grow should be executed as the murderer. Accordingly, the brothers proceeded to the churchyard, accompanied by the clergy, the magistrates, and many citizens; and, after hymns had been sung, they planted their trees; after which solemn act they were allowed to return home, and remained unguarded. In course of tme, the upper branches of the Lindens all struck root, and the original roots were transformed into branches, which, instead of growing upwards, spread horizontally, in rich luxuriance, and, in thirty years, overshadowed the churchyard. They have since perished, but the brothers were ennobled by the Elector as Lords of Linden, and bore the effigy of the marvellous trees on their escutcheon. The youngest afterwards married the Italian’s daughter.'

 From : Plant Lore, Legends & Lyrics – Richard Folkard

Holly

The Holly or Holme (Ilex Aquifolium) derives its name from the Anglo-Saxon Holegn, whilst another ancient designation, Hulver, or as Chaucer wrote it, Hulfeere, has been taken from the old Norse Hulfr. From the use made of its branches in decorating churches at Christmas time, the monk, by an easy corruption, bestowed on the Holly the designation of the Holy-tree.
The disciples of Zoroaster, or Fire Worshippers, believe that the Holly-tree casts no shadow, and both in Persia and India they emply an infusion of its leaves for several purposes connected with their religious observances. They also sprinkle the face of a newly-born child with water impregnated with Holly-bark.

Pliny states that if the Holly, or Hulver-tree, be planted about a house, it will keep away all malign spells and enchantments, and defend the house from lightening. He also, among other marvels, relates that the flowers of the Holly would freeze water, and would repel poison, and that if a staff of its wood were thrown to any animal, even if it did not touch him, it would so influence the animal as to cause him to lie down beside it.

The custom of decorating houses and churches with Holly at Christmas is probably derived from the Romans, who were wont to send boughs to their friends during the festival of the Saturnalia, which occurred about the same period, and the Oaks being then bare of leaves, the priests obliged the people to bring in boughs of Holly and Evergreens. There is little doubt that the early Roman Christians deisregarding the church’s interdiction, introduced the heathen practice of decorationg their houses with Holly, and in course of time connected it with their own faith.

There is an old English superstition that elves and fairies join the social gatherings at Christmas, and this led to branches being hung up in hall and bower in order that the fays might “hang in each leaf, and cling on every bough during that sacred time when spirits have no power to harm” this Evergreen “Christmas” should be taken down on Candlemas Eve. Herrick says:

“Down with the Holly and Ivy all
Wherewith ye deck the Christmas hall;
So that the superstitious find
No one least branch there left behind;
For look how many leaves there be
Neglected there – maids ‘tend to me –
So many goblins ye shall see.”

De Gubernatis tells us, that in certain parts of France, in Switzerland, at Bologna, and in other Continental countries, there is an old custom extant of cutting branches of Holly on Christmas Eve, and hanging them in houses and stables, in the hope of driving away evil spirits and witchcraft. As the Holly-leaf is prickly, it repulses and drives away enemies. And English mediaeval ballad illustrates this custom:

“Her commys Holly, that is so gent,
To please all men is his intent.
But lord and lady of this hall,
Who so ever ageynst Holly call.
Who so ever ageynst Holly do crye,
In a lepe shall he hang full hie.
Who so ever ageynst Holly do syng,
He maye wepe and handys wryng.”

Witches are reputed to detest Holly: in its name they see but another form of the word ‘holy’, and its thorny foliage and blood-red berries are suggestive of the most Christian associations.

In Northumberland, Holly is employed in a form of divination. There the prickly variety is called He-Holly, and the smooth, She-Holly. It is the leaves of the latter only that are deemed proper for divining purposes. These smooth leaves must be plucked late on a Friday, by persons careful to preserve an unbroken silence from the time they go out to the dawn of the following morn. The leaves must be collected in a three-cornered handkerchief, and on being brought home, nine of them must be selected, tied with nine knots into the handkerchief, and placed beneath the pillow. Then, sleep being obtained, dreams worthy of all credit will attend this rite.

In another form of divination, a maiden places three pails of water on her bedroom floor, them pins to her night-dress, opposite her heart, three leaves of green Holly, and so retires to rest. She will be aroused from her first sleep by three terrible yells, followed by three horse-laughs, after which the form of her future husband will appear. If he is deeply attached to her, he will change the position of the water pails; if not, he will glide from the room without touching them. This spell is only effectual when performed on All Hallowe’en, Christmas Eve, New Year’s Eve, and Beltane, or Midsummer Eve.

Holly is under the dominion of Saturn.

(Source : Plant Lore, Legend, and Lyrics – 1892 – Richard Folkard)

Elder

"The Elder or Elian-tree (Sambucus), in Scandinavian mythology, was consecrated to Hulda, the goddess of love, and to Thor, the god of Thunder, and is connected with many ancient Northern superstitions.

The Danes believe that in the Elder there dwells a, being known as the Hylde-moer (Elder-mother) or Hylde-qvinde (Elder-woman), by whom all injuries done to the Elder are avenged. In a small court in the Nybonder, a distridt of Copenhagen, there stands a weird tree, which at dusk is reputed to move up and down the passage, and sometimes to peep through the windows at the children. It is not deemed advisable to have furniture made of Elder-wood. Tradition says that a child having been laid in a cradle made of Elder-wood, the Hylde-moer came and pulled it by the legs, nor would she let it have any rest until it was taken out of the cradle. A peasant once heard his children crying in the night, and on inquiring the cause, was told that some one had been there and sucked them; and their breasts were found to be swollen. This annoyance was believed to have arisen from the fact that the room was boarded with Elder.

The Elder branches may not be cut until permission has been asked in the words, " Hylde-moer, Hylde-moer, allow me to cut thy branches." Then, if no objection be made by the spirit of the tree, the hewer proceeds, taking care first to spit three times, as a precaution against molestation.

In Denmark, it is believed that he who stands under an Elder-bush at twelve o'clock on Midsummer Eve, will see Toly, the king of the elves, go by with all his train. Perhaps on account of the supernatural halo surrounding it, the Elder was regarded as a cure for various diseases. A Danish formula prescribes the taking of an Elder-twig by a person afflicted with toothache, who must first put it in his mouth, and then stick it in the wall, saying, " Depart thou evil spirit." Ague may be cured by taking a twig of Elder, and sticking it in the ground, without speaking a word ; the disease will then pass into the twig, and attach itself to the first person who approaches the spot.

In Russia, there is a belief that Elder-trees drive away bad and malignant spirits, out of compassion to humanity, and that they promote long life.

In Sweden, women about to become mothers kiss the Elder; and it is thought that no one can damage the tree with impunity.

In Germany, the Elder is regarded with great respect. From its leaves a febrifuge is made: from its berries a sort of sour preserve, and a wonder-working electuary; the moon-shaped clusters of flowers are narcotic, and are used in baking small cakes. The smell of the leaves and blossoms has the reputation of causing giddiness, whence arises the saying that "he who goes to sleep under an Elder-tree will never wake."

The cross which is affixed to the rod on which the Easter Palms are fastened is made of Elder-wood, as well as the cross which is carried before the coffin in the funeral procession. Although essentially a tree of shade and of death, yet it and the funeral cross just mentioned are known by the name of " Livelong." It is a favourite hiding-place for children when playing at " hide-and-seek." The pith of the branches, when cut in round flat shapes, is dipped in oil, lighted, and then put to float in a glass of water ; its light on Christmas Eve is thought to reveal to the owner all the witches and sorcerers in the neighbourhood.

Since this tree drives away spirits, it is often planted by the side of manure sheds, keeping them damp by its shade, and also protecting from evil influences the cattle in the adjoining shed. It is commonly believed that he who injures an Elder-tree will suffer from its vengeance. " Holderstock " (Elderstock) is a name of endearment given by a lover to his beloved, and is derived from Hulda, the old goddess of love.

In Lower Saxony, it was customary to ask permission of the Elder-tree before cutting it, in the words, “Lady Elder, give me some of thy wood; then will I also give thee some of mine when it grows in the forest." This was repeated three times, with folded hands and bended knees.

Pusch Kait, the ancient Prussian god of the earth, was supposed to live under the Elder-tree. In the Tyrol, an Elder-bush, trimmed into the form of a cross, is often planted on the new-made grave; and if it blooms, it is a sign that the soul of the dead person is in Paradise. The Tyroleans have such a regard for the tree, that, in passing it, they always raise their hat.

In Bohemia, three spoonfuls of the water which has been used to bathe an invalid are poured under an Elder, with " Elder, God sends me to thee, that thou may'st take my fever upon thee." This must be repeated on three successive days, and if the patient has not meanwhile passed over water, he will recover.

The Serbs introduce a stick of Elder, to ensure good luck, during their wedding festivities.

In Savoy, branches of Elder are carried about on May-day.

In Sicily, it is thought a bough of Elder will kill serpents, and drive away robbers better than any other stick. In Labruguiere, France, if an animal is ill, or has a wound infested by vermin, they lead it to the foot of an Elder-tree, and twirling a bough in their hands, they bow to the tree, and address it as follows :—" Good' day, Mons. Yeble; if you do not drive away the vermin, I shall be compelled to cut both your limbs and your trunk." This ceremony performed, a certain cure is confidently looked for. In the country districts round Valenciennes, if an Elder-bough is hung outside the door, it is indicative of a coquette inhabiting the house.

In England, the Elder has been regarded with superstition from very early times, and is looked upon as a tree of bad omen. Branches of Elder were formerly considered to be typical of disgrace and woe. In the Canones editi sub Edgaro Rege it is enacted that every priest forbid the vain practices that are carried on with Elder-sticks, and also with various other trees.

In Gloucestershire, and some other counties, the peasantry will on no account burn Elder or Elian-wood, the reason being, that it was supposed to be one of the trees from which the wood of the Cross was formed. In a rare tract on Gloucestershire superstitions, a figure is given of an Elder-wood cross borne constantly about the person as a cure for rheumatism. This cross consisted of a small piece cut from a young shoot just above and below a joint, so as to leave the bud projecting at each end of it, after the fashion of a rude cross. To be efficient, the Elder must have grown in consecrated ground. In Tortworth and other Gloucestershire churchyards are to be found such trees, and applications for pieces of them are still made.

In Sussex, an Elder-stick, with three, four, or more knots upon it, is carried in the pocket as a charm against rheumatism.

In the Eastern counties, the Elder is popularly considered to be the tree of whose wood the Cross was made: it is therefore an unlucky tree, and one that should never be bound up in faggots. On this account, also, the Elder is considered safe from the effects of lightning. In some parts there is a vulgar prejudice that if boys be beaten with an Elder-stick, their growth is sure to be checked.

In Huntingdonshire, there exists the Danish belief in a being called the Elder-mother, so that it is not always safe to pluck the flowers. No household furniture should be made of Elder-wood, least of all a cradle, for some evil will certainly befall the child sleeping in it.

The Elder-tree has been credited with possessing a peculiar fascination for witches and elves, who love to lurk beneath the shadow of its branches, and who are wont to bury their offspring at its foot. On the other hand, the tree has been said to exercise a protective influence against the attacks of witches and wizards, and similar evil-disposed persons ; and it has been suggested that this is the reason why the tree is so often found in the neighbourhood of cottages. It was thought that the tree was obnoxious to witches because their enemies use the green juice of its inner bark for anointing the eyes. Any baptised person whose eyes are touched with it can see what the witches are about in any part of the world. It was possible by magic art to render witches sensible of blows given to them with an Elder-stick, but this has to be managed by someone versed in the habits of witches. A cross made of the Elder, affixed to cow-houses and stables, was supposed to protect cattle from all possible harm.

Shakspeare, in ' Love's Labour Lost,' says "Judas was hanged on an Elder," and this belief was general among early writers, and is constantly alluded to by authors of the Elizabethan period ; but the name Judas-tree was applied to the Cercis siliquastyum (which is the tree which still bears it), about the same period. Gerarde, indeed, definitely tells us of the Cercis, " This is the tree whereon Judas did hang himselfe, and not upon the Elder-tree, as is stated."

On the other hand, that old Eastern traveller, Sir John Maundevile, tells us that the very Elder-tree upon which Judas hanged himself was to be seen in his day close to the Pool of Siloe ; whilst the legend which connedls Judas with the Elder-tree is alluded to by Ben Jonson, and is thus referred to in ' Piers Plowman ' :

" Judas, he japed
With Jewen silver
And sithen on an Eller
Hanged hymselve."

But not only is the ill-omened Elder credited with being connected with the death of Judas, but there is a wide-spread belief that it was the " accursed tree " on which the Redeemer's life was given up ; therefore, although fuel may be scarce and these sticks plentiful, in some places the superstitious poor will not burn them.

In Scotland, according to a writer in the ' Dublin Magazine,' it is called the Bour-tree, and the following rhyme is indicative of the belief entertained in that country :

" Bour-tree, Bour-tree, crooked rung.
Never straight and never strong,
Ever bush and never tree,
Since our Lord was nailed on thee."

In Chambers' ' Book of Days ' is an instance of the belief that a person is perfectly safe under the shelter of an Elder-tree during a thunderstorm, as the lightning never strikes the tree of which the Cross was made. Experience has taught that this is a fallacy, although many curious exceptional instances are recorded.

In Napier's Folk-lore of the Northern Counties we read of a peculiar custom:—the Elder is planted in the form of a cross upon a newly made grave, and if it blooms they take it as a sure sign that the soul of the dead person is happy.

It is not considered prudent to sleep under an Elder. Evelyn describes the narcotic smell of the tree as very noxious to the air, and narrates that a certain house in Spain, seated among Elder trees, diseased and killed almost all the inhabitants, " which, when at last they were grubbed up, became a very wholesome and healthy place."

As regards the medical virtues of the tree, Evelyn exclaims:— "If the medicinal properties of the leaves, bark, berries, &c., were thoroughly known, I cannot tell what our countryman could ail for which he might not fetch a remedy from every hedge, either for sickness or wound." And he goes on to describe a variety of medicinal uses for the bark, buds, berries, leaves, and flowers ; summing up the virtues of the Elder with the remark that: " every part of the tree is useful, as may be seen at large in Blockwitzius's anatomie thereof."

In this work is the following description of an amulet for the use of an epileptic subject, which is to be made of the Elder growing on a Sallow :—" If in the month of October, a little before the full moon, you pluck a twig of the Elder, and cut the cane that is betwixt two of its knees, or knots, in nine pieces, and these pieces, being bound in a piece of linen, be in a thread so hung about the neck that they touch the spoon of the heart, or the sword-formed cartilage ; and, that they may stay more firmly in that place, they are to be bound thereon with a linen or leather roller wrapt about the body, till the thread break of itself. The thread being broken, and the roller removed, the amulet is not at all to be touched with bare hands, but it ought to be taken hold on by some instrument, and buried in a place that nobody may touch it."

One mode of charming warts away is to take an Elder-shoot, and rub it on the part, then cut as many notches on the twig as you have warts, bury it in a place where it will soon decay, and as it rots away the warts will disappear. Another plan is to obtain a green Elder-stick, and rub the warts well with it, after which bury the stick to rot away in muck.

The black berries of the Elder are full of a deep violet-coloured juice, which, according to Virgil, the god Pan had his face smeared with, in compliance with the old Roman custom of painting their gods on solemn occasions.

To dream of Elder-berries denotes sickness.

The tree is under the dominion of Venus."

From : 'Plant Lore, Legend, and Lyrics' – 1892 – Richard Folkard

Yew

'The Yew-tree has been considered an emblem of mourning from a very early period. The Greeks adopted the idea from the Egyptians, the Romans from the Greeks, and the Britons form the Romans. From long habits of association, the yew acquired a sacred character, and therefore was considered as the best and most appropriate ornament of consecrated ground. Hence in England it became the custom to plant Yews in churchyards, despite the ghastly superstition attached to these trees, that they prey upon the dead who lie beneath their sombre shade. Moreover our forefathers were particularly careful in preserving this funereal tree, whose branches it was at one time usual to carry in solemn procession to the grave, and afterwards to deposit therein under the bodies of departed friends. The custom of planting Yew trees singly in churchyards is also one of considerable antiquity. Statius, in his sixth Thebaid, calls it the solitary Yew. Leydon thus apostrophises this funeral tree:

“Now more I love thee, melancholy Yew,
Whose still green leaves in silence wave
Above the peasant’s rude and unhonoured grave,
Which oft thou moistenest with the morning dew.
To thee the sad, to thee the weary fly;
They rest in peace beneath thy sacred gloom,
Thou sole companion of the lonely tomb;
No leaves but thine in pity o’er them sigh:
Lo! Now to fancy’s gaze thou seem’st to spread
Thy shadowy boughs to shroud me with the dead.”

The dark and sombre Yew-tree has from the remote past been invested with an essentially funereal character, and hence is appropriately found in the shade of churchyards and in propinquity to tombs. Blair, addressing himself to the grave, says:

“Well do I know thee by thy trusty Yew,
Cheerless, unsocial plant, that loves to dwell
Midst skulls and coffins, epitaphs, and worms;
Where light-heeled ghosts, and visionary shades,
Beneath the wan cold moon (so fame reports),
Embody’d, thick, perform their mystic rounds,
No other merriment, dull tree, is thine.”

The Egyptians regarded it as a symbol of mourning, and the idea descended ot the Greeks and Romans, who employed the wood as fuel for their funeral pyres. The Britons probably learned from the Romans to attach a funereal signification to the Yew, and inasmuch as it had been employed in ancient funeral rites, they regarded the tree with reverence and probably looked upon it as sacred. Hence, in course of time, the Yew came to be planted in churchyards, and, on account of its perpetual verdure, was, like the Cypress, considered as a symbol of the resurrection and immortality.

“Dark Cypresses the skirting sides adorned,
And gloomy Yew-trees, which for ever mourned.” – Harte.

R.Turner remarks that if the Yew “be set in a place subject to poisonous vapours, the very branches will draw and imbibe them: hence it is conceived that the judicious in former times planted it in churchyards on the west side, because those places being fuller of putrefaction and gross oleaginous vapours exhaled out of the graves by the setting sun, and sometimes drawn into those meteors called ignes fatui, divers have been frightened, supposing some dead bodies to walk; others have been blasted, &c.” Prof. Martyn points out that a Yew was evidently planted near the church for some religious purpose; for in the ancient laws of Wales the value of a consecrated Yew is ser down as £1, whilst that of an ordinary Yew-tree is stated as only fifteen pence. “Our forefathers,” he says, “were particularly careful to preserve this funereal tree, who branches it was usual to carry in solemn pro cession to the grave, and afterwards to deposit therein under the bodies of their departed friends. Our learned Ray says, that our ancestors planted the Yew in churchyards because it was an evergreen tree, as a symbol of that immortality which they hoped and expected for the persons there deposited. For the same reason this and other evergreen trees are even yet carried in funerals, and thrown into the grave with the body; in some parts of England and in Wales, planted with flowers upon the grave itself.” Shakespeare speaks of a “shroud of white, stuck all with Yew,” from which one would infer that sprigs of Yew were placed on corpses before burial. Branches of Yew were, in olden times, often carried in procession on Palm Sunday, instead of Palm, and as an evergreen Yew was sometimes used to decorate churches and houses at Christmas-time.

Parkinson remarks that in his time it was used “to deck up houses in Winter; but ancient writers have ever reckoned it to be dangerous at the least, if not deadly.” Many of the old writers were of Parkinson’s opinion as to the poisonous character of the Yew.

Caesar tells how Cativulvus, king of the Eburones, poisoned himself by drinking a draught of Yew. Dioscorides says that a decoction of the leaves occasions death; Galen pronounces the tree to be of a venomous quality and against man’s nature: and White, in his ‘History of Selborne’, gives numerous instances in which the Yew has proved fatal to animals. Gerarde does not consider the berries poisonous, but thinks non-ruminating animals are injured by eating the foliage. He tells us that “Nicander, in his booke of counter-poisons, doth reckon the Yew-tree among the venomous plants, setting downe also a remedy, and that in these words, as Gorraeus hath translated them:

“Shun the poys’nous Yew, the which on Oeata grows,
Like to the Firre, it causes bitter death,
Unless besides they use pure wins that flowes
From empty’d cups, thou drinke, when as thy breath
Begins to fade, and passage of thy life
Grows straight.”

Virgil attributed the notoriously unwholesome qualities of the honey of Corsica to the bees feeding upon the Yew, and he warns beekeepers to be careful that no Yew-trees grow near their hives. Owing to its being so frequently found in churchyards, a ghastly superstition has arisen respecting this sinister tree: it is said that it preys and invigorates itself upon the dead, who lie beneath its sombre shade. Thus, in ‘In Memoriam.’ We read:

“Old Yew, which graspest at the stones
That name the underlying dead,
Thy fibres net the dreamless head,
Thy roots are wrapt about the bones.”

Even in the principal use the Yew was put to, the tree maintained its connection with death, for from its wood man fashioned an instrument of warfare and destruction. Its great pliancy and toughness made it particularly suitable for bows, and for this purpose it was unrivalled. Virgil tells us that in his time “the Yews were bent into Ituraean bows”; Chaucer speaks of “the Shooter Yew”; and Browne writes of:

“The warlike Yewgh by which more than the lance
The strong-armed English spirits conquered France.”

Camden has recorded a grim legend in connection with the name of Halifax. It seems that a certain amorous clergyman fell in love with a pretty main who refused his addresses. Maddened by her refusal he cut off her head, which being hung upon a Yew-tree till it was quite decayed, the tree was reputed as sacred, not only whilst the virgin’s head hung on it, but as long as the tree itself lasted: to which the people went in pilgrimage, plucking and bearing away branches of it as a holy relique, whilst there remained any of the trunk; persuading themselves that those small veins and filaments resembling hairs were the hairs of the virgin. But what is yet stranger, the resort to this place, then called Houton, a despicable village, occasioned the building of the now famous town of Halifax, in Yorkshire, the name of which imports “holy hair”.

In the cloister of Vreton, in Brittany, there grew a Yew-tree which was said to have sprung from the dtaff of St. Martin. Beneath it the Breton princes were accustomed ot offer up a prayer before entering the church. This tree was regarded with the highest reverence; no one ever plucked a leaf from tis sombre boughs, and even the birds refrained from pecking the scarlet berries. A band of pirates, however, happening to visit the locality, two of them spied the tree, and forthwith climbed into its venerable boughs and proceeded to cut bow-staves for themselves: their audacity speedily brought about its own punishment, for they both fell and were killed on the spot.

Both in old Celtic and in Anglo-Saxon the Yew-tree was called Iw. By early English authors its name was variously spelt Yew, Yeugh, Ewgh, Ugh and Ewe.

In Switzerland it is known as William Tell’s Tree.

Dream oracles state that there is but one signification to dreams concerning the Yew, viz., that it is the certain forerunner of the demise of an aged person, through which the dreamer will derive substantial benefits.'

From : Plant Lore, Legend, and Lyrics – 1892 – Richard Folkard

Willow

J.H.Philpot makes a number of references to the Willow in 'The Sacred Tree' (1897). This one in particular I found interesting :

"Scythian soothsayers were wont to divine by the help of a number of willow rods, which they placed upon the ground, uttering their predictions as they gathered them up one by one."



The following excerpt is from 'Plant Lore, Legends, and Lyrics' (1892) by Richard Folkard.

“The Willow seems from the remotest times to have been considered a funeral tree and an emblem of grief. So universal is the association of sadness and grief with the Willow, that “to wear the Willow” has become a familiar proverb. Under Willows the captive Children of Israel wept and mourned in Babylon. Fuller, referring to this melancholy episode in their history, says of the Willow: “A sad tree, whereof such as have lost their love make their mourning garlands; and we know that exiles hung their harps on such doleful supports. The very leaves of the Willow are of a mournful hue.”

Virgil remarks on: “The Willow with hoary bluish leaves;”

And Shakespear, when describing the scene of poor Ophelia’s death says:

“There is a Willow grows ascant the brook,
That shows his hoar leaves in the grassy stream.”

Chatterton has a song of which the burden runs:

“Mie love ys dedde,
Gone to his death-bedde
Al under the Wyllowe-tree.”

Spenser designates the gruesome tree as “the Willow worn of forlorn paramours;” and there are several songs in which despairing lovers invoke the Willow-tree.

“Ah, Willow, Willow!
The Willow shall be
A garland for me,
Ah, Willow! Willow!”

Herrick tells us how garlands of Willow were worn by neglected or bereaved lovers, and how love-sick youths and maids came to weep out the night beneath the Willow’s cold shade. The following wail of a heart-broken lover is also from the pen of the old poet:

“A Willow garland, thou did’st send
Perfumed, last day, to me,
Which did but only this portend –
I was forsook by thee.
Since it is so, I’ll tell thee what:
To-morrow thou shat see
Me wear the Willow; after that,
To die upon the tree.
As hearts unto the altars go,
With garlands dressed, so I,
With my Willow-wreath, also
Come forth and sweetly die.”

Jason, in his voyage in search of the golden fleece, passed the weird grove of Circe, planted with funereal Willows, on the tops of which the voyagers could perceive corpses hanging. Pausanias speaks of a grove consecrated to Proserpine, planted with Black Poplars and Willows; and the same author represents Orpheus, whilst in the infernal regions, as carrying a Willow-branch in his hand. Shakespeare, in allusion to Dido’s being forsaken by Aeneas, says:

“In such a night,
Stood Dido, with a Willow in her hand,
Upon the wild sea-banks, and waved her love
To come again to Carthage.”

The Willow was considered to be the tree of Saturn. The Weeping Willow (Salix Babylonica), as being a remedy for fluxes, was, however, consecrated to Juno Fluonia, who was invoked by Roman matrons to stop excessive haemorrhage. 

The Flemish peasantry have a curious custom to charm away the ague. The sufferer goes early in the morning to an old Willow, makes three knots in one of its branches, and says “Good morning, Old One; I give thee the cold, Old One.” 

The Willow wand has long been a favourite instrument of divination. The directions are as follows – Let a maiden take a Willow-branch in her left hand, and, without being observed, slip out of the house and run three times round it, whispering all the time. “He that’s to be my gude man come and grip the end of it.” During the third run, the likeness of her future husband will appear and grasp the other end of the wand. 

De Gubernatis says that at Brie (Ile-de-France), on St John’s Eve, the people burn a figure made of Willow-boughs. At Luchon, on the same anniversary, they throw snakes on a huge effigy of a Willow-tree made with branches of Willow; this is set on fire, and while it is burning the people dance around the tree. 

In China, the Willow is employed in their funeral rites, the tree having been there considered, from the remotest ages, to be a symbol of immortality and eternity - on this account they cover the coffin with branches of Willow, and plant Willows near the tombs of the departed. They also have a custom of decorating the doors of their houses with Willow-branches on Midsummer Day. With them the Willow is supposed to be possessed of marvellous properties, amongst which is the power of averting the ill effects of miasma and pestilential disorders. – To dream of mourning beneath a Willow over some calamity is considered a happy omen, implying the speedy receipt of intelligence that will cause much satisfaction. 

By astrologers the Willow is placed under the dominion of the Moon.”

Hawthorn

'The Hawthorn, according to ancient myths, originally sprang from the lightening: it has been revered as a sacred tree from the earliest times, and was accounted by the Greeks a tree of good augury and a symbol of conjugal union. After the rape of the Sabines, upon which occasion the shepherds carried Hawthorn-boughs, it was considered propitious; its blossoming branches were borne by those assisting at wedding festivities, and the newly married couple were lighted to the bridal chamber with torches of the wood. At the present day, the Greeks garland their brides with wreaths of Hawthorn, and deck the nuptial altar with its blossoms, whilst on May-day they suspend boughs of the flowering shrub over their portals. The ancient Germans composed their funeral-piles of Hawthorn wood, and consecrated it with the mallet, the symbol of the god Thor. They believed that in the sacred flame which shot upwards from the Thorn, the souls of the deceased were carried to heaven.

The Hawthorn has for centuries borne in England the favourite name of “May” from its flowering in the month:
“Between the leaves the silver Whitethorn shows
Its dewy blossoms pure as mountain snows.”

In olden times, very early on May-day morning, lads and lasses repaired to the woods and hedgerows, and returned, soon after sunrise, laden with posies of flowers, and boughs of blooming Hawthorn, with which to decorate the churches and houses: even in London boughs of May were freely suspended over the citizens’ doorways. Chaucer tells us how:

“Furth goth all the Courte, both most and lest,
To fetche the flouris freshe, and braunche, and blome,
And namely Hawthorne brought both page and grome,
With freshe garlandis partly blew and white,
And than rejoisin in their grete delighte.”

In Lancashire, at the present day, the Mayers still, in some districts, go from door to door, and sing:

“We have been rambling all this night,
And almost all this day;
And now returned back again,
We’ve brought you a branch of May.
A branch of May we have brought you,
And at your door it stands;
It is but a sprout, but it’s well budded out
By the work of our lord’s hands.”

Aubrey, writing in 1686, records that at Woodstock, in Oxfordshire, the people were accustomed to May-eve to go into the park and procure a number of Hawthorn-trees, which they set before their doors. In Huntingdonshire, on May-day morn, the young men used formerly to place, at sunrise, a branch of Hawthorn in blossom, before the door of anyone they wished to honour.

A curious superstition survives in Suffolk, where to sleep in a room, with the Hawthorn in bloom in it during the month of May, is considered, by country folk, to be unlucky, and sure to be followed by some great misfortune.

In some parts of Ireland, it is thought unlucky to bring blossoming Hawthorn indoors, and unsafe to gather even a leaf from certain old and solitary Thorns which grow in sheltered hollows of the moorlands, and on the fairies’ trysting places. It is considered unlucky to cut down a Hawthorn-tree, and in many parts the peasants refuse to do it: thus we read, in a legend of county Donegal, that a fairy had tried to steal one Joe McDonough’s baby, and, telling the story to her neighbours: “I never affronted the gentry (fairies) to my knowledge,” sighed the poor mother; “but Joe helped Mr. Todd’s gardener to cut down the old Hawthorn-tree on the lawn Friday was eight days: an’ there’s them that says that’s a very bad thing to do. I fleeched him not to touch it, but the master her offered him six shillings if he’d help wi’ the job, for the other men refused.” “That’s the way of it,” whispered the crones over their pipes and poteen – “that’s just it. The gude man has had the ill luck to displease the ‘gentry’, an’ there will be trouble in this house yet.”

Among the Pyrenean peasantry Hawthorn and Laurel are thought to secure the wearer against thunder. The inhabitants of Biarritz make Hawthorn wreaths on St. John’s Day: they then rush to the sea, plunge in after a prayer, and consider themselves sage during the ensuing twelve months from the temptation of evil spirits.

The old herbalists prescribe the distilled water of the Haws of the Hawthorn as an application suited to “any place where thorns or splinters doe abide in the flesh,” the result being that the decoction “will notably draw them out.” Lord Bacon tells us, that a “store of Haws portends cold winters.”

Among the Turks, a branch of Hawthorn expresses the wish of a lover to receive a kiss.

The Hawthorn attains to a great age, and its wood is remarkably durable: there is a celebrated tree enclosed in Cawdor Castle, near Inverness, which has stood from time immemorial. Tradition relates that the Castle was built over the tree in consequence of a dream, by which the original proprietor was instructed to erect a castle on this particular spot. From the most remote times it has been customary for guests to assemble themselves around this venerable tree, and drink success to the House of Cawdor.

The most remarkable of English Thorns is that known as the Glastonbury Thorn, which is reputed to have sprung from the staff of Joseph of Arimathea.

By astrologers the Hawthorn is placed under the dominion of Mars. Turner remarks that, should he “want weapons, he may make use of the prickles and let Saturn take the fruit.”

(Source : Plant Lore, Legend, and Lyrics – 1892 – Richard Folkard)