Book XXI. An Account of Flowers, and Those Used for Chaplets More Particularly.

Chaps. 1-13.

Chap. 1. (1.)—The Nature of Flowers and Garlands.

Cato has recommended that flowers for making chaplets should also be cultivated in the garden; varieties remarkable for a delicacy which it is quite impossible to express, inasmuch as no individual can find such facilities for describing them as Nature does for bestowing on them their numerous tints—Nature, who here in especial shows herself in a sportive mood, and takes a delight in the prolific display of her varied productions. The other [See B. xxii. c..] plants she has produced for our use and our nutriment, and to them accordingly she has granted years and even ages of duration: but as for the flowers and their perfumes, she has given them birth for but a day—a mighty lesson to man, we see, to teach him that that which in its career is the most beauteous and the most attractive to the eye, is the very first to fade and die.

Even the limner’s art itself possesses no resources for reproducing the colours of the flowers in all their varied tints and combinations, whether we view them in groups alternately blending their hues, or whether arranged in festoons, each variety by [“Sive privatis generum funiculis in orbem, in obliquum, in ambitum; quædam coronæ per coronas currunt.” As we know but little of the forms of the garlands and chaplets of the ancients, the exact translation of this passage is very doubtful.] itself, now assuming a circular form, now running obliquely, and now disposed in a spiral pattern; or whether, as we see sometimes, one wreath is interwoven within another.

Chap. 2. (2.)—Garlands and Chaplets.

The ancients used chaplets of diminutive size, called “struppi;” [According to Boettiger, the word “struppus” means a string arranged as a fillet or diadem.] from which comes our name for a chaplet, “strophiolum.” Indeed, it was only by very slow degrees that this last word [Fée makes the word “vocabulum” apply to “corona,” and not to “struppus;” but the passage will hardly admit of that rendering.] became generalized, as the chaplets that were used at sacrifices, or were granted as the reward of military valour, asserted their exclusive right to the name of “corona.” As for garlands, when they came to be made of flowers, they received the name of “serta,” from the verb “sero,” [“To bind” or “join together.”] or else from our word “series.” [A “connected line,” from the verb “sero.”] The use [By “quod,” Hardouin takes Pliny to mean, the use of the word σπαρτὸν, among the Greeks, corresponding with the Latin word “sertum.”] of flowers for garlands is not so very ancient, among the Greeks even.

Chap. 3.—Who Invented the Art of Making Garlands: When They First Received the Name of “Corollæ,” and for What Reason.

For in early times it was the usage to crown the victors in the sacred contests with branches of trees: and it was only at a later period, that they began to vary their tints by the combination [These chaplets, we learn from Festus, were called “pancarpiæ.” The olive, oak, laurel, and myrtle, were the trees first used for chaplets.] of flowers, to heighten the effect in turn by their colour and their smell—an invention due to the ingenuity of the painter Pausias, at Sicyon, [See B. xxxv. c. 40.] and the garland-maker Glycera, a female to whom he was greatly attached, and whose handiwork was imitated by him in colours. Challenging him to a trial of skill, she would repeatedly vary her designs, and thus it was in reality a contest between art and Nature; a fact which we find attested by pictures of that artist even still in existence, more particularly the one known as the “Stephaneplocos,” [The “Chaplet-weaver.” See B. xxxv. c. 40.] in which he has given a likeness of Glycera herself. This invention, therefore, is only to be traced to later than the Hundredth [B.C. 380.] Olympiad.

Chaplets of flowers being now the fashion, it was not long before those came into vogue which are known to us as Egyptian [From Athenæus, B. xv. c. 2, et seq., we learn that the Egyptian chaplets were made of ivy, narcissus, pomegranate blossoms, &c.] chaplets; and then the winter chaplets, made for the time at which Earth refuses her flowers, of thin laminæ of horn stained various colours. By slow degrees, too, the name was introduced at Rome, these garlands being known there at first as “corollæ,” a designation given them to express the remarkable delicacy [“Corolla,” being the diminutive of “corona.”] of their texture. In more recent times, again, when the chaplets presented were made of thin plates [Or tinsel.] of copper, gilt or silvered, they assumed the name of “corollaria.”

Chap. 4. (3.)—Who Was the First to Give Chaplets with Leaves of Silver and Gold. Lemnisci: Who Was the First to Emboss Them.

Crassus Dives [The “Rich.”] was the first who gave chaplets with artificial leaves of silver and gold, at the games celebrated by him. To embellish these chaplets, and to confer additional honour on them, lemnisci were added, in imitation of the Etruscan chaplets, which ought properly to have none but lemnisci [Ribbons or streamers.] made of gold. For a long period these lemnisci were destitute of ornament: [“Puri.”] P. Claudius Pulcher [Consul, A.U.C. 570.] was the first who taught us to emboss [Or “engrave,” “cælare.” He is probably speaking here of golden lemnisci.] them, and added leaves of tinsel to the laminæ [“Philyræ.” This was properly the inner bark of the linden-tree; but it is not improbable that thin plates of metal were also so called, from the resemblance. The passage, however, admits of various modes of explanation.] of which the lemniscus was formed.

Chap. 5.—The Great Honour in Which Chaplets Were Held by the Ancients.

Chaplets, however, were always held in a high degree of estimation, those even which were acquired at the public games. For it was the usage of the citizens to go down in person to take part in the contests of the Circus, and to send their slaves and horses thither as well. Hence it is that we find it thus written in the laws of the Twelve Tables: “If any person has gained a chaplet himself, or by his money, [“Pecuniâ.” Fée compares this usage with the employment of jockies at horse-races in England and France.] let the same be given to him as the reward of his prowess.” There is no doubt that by the words “gained by his money,” the laws meant a chaplet which had been gained by his slaves or horses. Well then, what was the honour acquired thereby? It was the right secured by the victor, for himself and for his parents, after death, to be crowned without fail, while the body was laid out in the house, [“Intus positus esset.”] and on its being carried [“Foris ferretur.”] to the tomb.

On other occasions, chaplets were not indiscriminately worn, not even those which had been won in the games.

Chap. 6.—The Severity of the Ancients in Reference to Chaplets.

Indeed the rules upon this point were remarkably severe. L. Fulvius, a banker, [Or “money-changer,” “argentarius.”] having been accused, at the time of the Second Punic War, of looking down from the balcony [“E pergulâ suâ.” Scaliger thinks that the “pergula” was a part of a house built out into the street, while, according to Ernesti, it was a little room in the upper part of a house. In B. xxxv. c. 36, it clearly means a room on the ground-floor.] of his house upon the Forum, with a chaplet of roses upon his head, was imprisoned by order of the Senate, and was not liberated before the war was brought to a close. P. Munatius, having placed upon his head a chaplet of flowers taken from the statue of Marsyas, [In the Fora of ancient cities there was frequently a statue of this mythological personage, with one hand erect, in token, Servius says (on B. iv. l. 58 of the Æneid), of the freedom of the state, Marsyas having been the minister of Bacchus, the god of liberty. His statue in the Forum of Rome was the place of assembly for the courtesans of that city, who used to crown it with chaplets of flowers. See also Horace i. Sat. 6. l. 120; Juvenal, Sat. 9. l. 1 and 2; and Martial, ii. Ep. 64. l. 7.] was condemned by the Triumviri to be put in chains. Upon his making appeal to the tribunes of the people, they refused to intercede in his behalf—a very different state of things to that at Athens, where the young men, [Cujacius thinks that Pliny has in view here Polemon of Athens, who when a young man, in his drunken revelry, burst into the school of Xenocrates, the philosopher, with his fellow-revellers, wearing his festive garland on his head. Being arrested, however, by the discourse, he stopped to listen, and at length, tearing off the garland, determined to enter on a more abstemious course of life. Becoming an ardent disciple of Xenocrates, he ultimately succeeded him at the head of the school. The passage as given in the text, from its apparent incompleteness, would appear to be in a mutilated state.] in their drunken revelry, were in the habit, before midday, of making their way into the very schools of the philosophers even. Among ourselves, no such instance of a similar licentiousness is to be found, unless, indeed, in the case of the daughter [Julia. See B. vii. c. 46.] of the late Emperor Augustus, who, in her nocturnal debaucheries, placed a chaplet on the statue [Thus acknowledging herself to be no better than a common courtesan.] of Marsyas, conduct deeply deplored in the letters of that god. [“Illius dei.”]

Chap. 7.—A Citizen Decked with Flowers by the Roman People.

Scipio is the only person that ever received from the Roman people the honour of being decked with flowers. This Scipio received the surname of Serapio, [See B. vii. c. 10.] from his remarkable resemblance to a certain person of that name who dealt in pigs. He died in his tribuneship, greatly beloved by the people, and in every way worthy of the family of the Africani. The property he left was not sufficient to pay the expenses of his burial; upon which the people made a subscription and contracted [“Funus elocavit.”] for his funeral, flowers being scattered upon the body from every possible quarter [“E prospectu omni.” “From every look-out:” i. e. from the roofs, doors, and windows.] as it was borne along.

Chap. 8.—Plaited Chaplets. Needle-work Chaplets. Nard-leaf Chaplets. Silken Chaplets.

In those days, too, chaplets were employed in honour of the gods, the Lares, public as well as domestic, the sepulchres, [This usage is still observed in the immortelles, laid on the tombs of departed friends, in Catholic countries on the continent. Tibullus alludes to it, B. ii. El. 4: “Atque aliquis senior veteres veneratus amores, Annua constructo serta dabit tumulo.”] and the Manes. The highest place, however, in public estimation, was held by the plaited chaplet; such as we find used by the Salii in their sacred rites, and at the solemnization of their yearly [At the conclusion of the festival of Mars on the 1st of March, and for several successive days. These entertainments were celebrated in the Temple of that god, and were proverbial for their excellence.] banquets. In later times, the rose chaplet has been adopted, and luxury arose at last to such a pitch that a chaplet was held in no esteem at all if it did not consist entirely of leaves sown together with the needle. More recently, again, they have been imported from India, or from nations beyond the countries of India.

But it is looked upon as the most refined of all, to present chaplets made of nard leaves, or else of silk of many colours steeped in unguents. Such is the pitch to which the luxuriousness of our women has at last arrived!

Chap. 9.—Authors Who Have Written on Flowers. An Anecdote Relative to Queen Cleopatra and Chaplets.

Among the Greeks, the physicians Mnesitheus and Callimachus have written separate treatises on the subject of chaplets, making mention of such flowers as are injurious to the head. [It is a well-known fact, as Fée remarks, that the smell of flowers is productive, in some persons, of head-ache, nausea, and vertigo. He states also that persons have been known to meet their death from sleeping all night in the midst of odoriferous flowers.] For, in fact, the health is here concerned to some extent, as it is at the moments of carousal and gaiety in particular that penetrating odours steal insidiously upon the brain—witness an instance in the wicked cunning displayed upon one occasion by Cleopatra.

At the time when preparations were making for the battle that was eventually fought at Actium, Antonius held the queen in such extreme distrust as to be in dread of her very attentions even, and would not so much as touch his food, unless another person had tasted it first. Upon this, the queen, it is said, wishing to amuse herself with his fears, had the extremities of the flowers in a chaplet dipped in poison, and then placed it upon her head. [“Ipsaque capiti imposita.” Holland and Ajasson render this as though Cleopatra placed the garland on Antony’s head, and not her own. Littré agrees with the translation here adopted.] After a time, as the hilarity increased apace, she challenged Antonius to swallow the chaplets, mixed up with their drink. Who, under such circumstances as these, could have apprehended treachery? Accordingly, the leaves were stripped from off the chaplet, and thrown into the cup. Just as Antonius was on the very point of drinking, she arrested his arm with her hand.—“Behold, Marcus Antonius,” said she, “the woman against whom you are so careful to take these new precautions of yours in employing your tasters! And would then, if I could exist without you, either means or opportunity of effecting my purpose be wanting to me?” Saying this, she ordered a man to be brought from prison, and made him drink off the potion; he did so, and fell dead [Fée remarks that we know of no poisons, hydrocyanic or prussic acid excepted, so instantaneous in their effects as this; and that it is very doubtful if they were acquainted with that poison.] upon the spot.

Besides the two authors above-mentioned, Theophrastus, [Hist. Plant. B. vi. cc. 6, 7.] among the Greeks, has written on the subject of flowers. Some of our own writers also have given the title of “Anthologica” to their works, but no one, to my knowledge at least, has treated expressly [“Persecutus est.”] of flowers. In fact, we ourselves have no intention here of discussing the mode of wearing chaplets, for that would be frivolous [A characteristic, it would appear, of the greater part of the information already given in this Book.] indeed; but shall proceed to state such particulars in relation to flowers as shall appear to us deserving of remark.

Chap. 10. (4.)—The Rose: Twelve Varieties of It.

The people of our country were acquainted with but very few garland flowers among the garden plants, and those few hardly any but the violet and the rose. The plant which bears the rose is, properly speaking, more of a thorn than a shrub—indeed, we sometimes find it growing on a bramble [He alludes to the wild rose or eglantine. See B. xvi. c. 71.] even; the flower having, even then, a pleasant smell, though by no means penetrating. The flower in all roses is originally enclosed in a bud, [“Granoso cortice.”] with a grained surface within, which gradually swells, and assumes the form of a green pointed cone, similar to our alabaster [Boxes of a pyramidal shape. See B. ix. c. 56.] unguent boxes in shape. Gradually acquiring a ruddy tint, this bud opens little by little, until at last it comes into full blow, developing the calyx, and embracing the yellow-pointed filaments which stand erect in the centre of it.

The employment of the rose in chaplets is, so to say, the least [Still, even for that purpose the rose was very extensively used. One ancient author states that, even in the middle of winter, the more luxurious Romans were not satisfied without roses swimming in their Falernian wine; and we find Horace repeatedly alluding to the chaplets of roses worn by the guests at banquets. Hence probably arose the expression, “Under the rose.” Fée is evidently mistaken in thinking that Pliny implies here, that it was but rarely used in chaplets.] use that is made of it. The flower is steeped in oil, a practice which has prevailed from the times of the Trojan war, as Homer [Il. xxiii. l. 186.] bears witness; in addition to which, it now forms an ingredient in our unguents, as mentioned on a previous occasion. [B. xiii. c. 2.] It is employed also by itself for certain medicinal purposes, and is used in plasters and eye-salves [“Collyriis.”] for its penetrating qualities: it is used, also, to perfume the delicacies of our banquets, and is never attended with any noxious results.

The most esteemed kinds of rose among us are those of Præneste [Clusius was of opinion that this was the Provence rose, the Rosa Gallica of Linnæus.] and Campania. [The same rose, probably, of which Virgil says, Georg. B. iv. l. 119, “Biferique rosaria Pæsti”—“And the rose-beds of Pæstum, that bear twice in the year.” It has been suggested that it is identical with the Rosa alba vulgaris major of Bauhin, the Rosa alba of Decandolle: but, as Fée says, it is very questionable if this is correct, this white rose blossoming but once a year.] Some persons have added to these varieties the rose of Miletus, [A simple variety of the Rosa Gallica of Linnæus, Fée thinks.] the flower of which is an extremely brilliant red, and has never more than a dozen petals. The next to it is the rose of Trachyn, [See B. iv. c. 14. According to J. Bauhin, this is the pale, flesh-coloured rose, called the “rose of France,”—the “Rosa rubello flore, majore, pleno, incarnata vulgo.” Others, again, take it to be the Damascus rose.] not so red as the last, and then that of Alabanda, [See B. v. c. 29. A variety of the white rose, Fée thinks, the determination of which must be sought among the Eglantines.] with whitish petals, but not so highly esteemed. The least esteemed of all, however, is the thorn rose, [“Spiniola.” A variety belonging to or approaching the Eglantine in all probability. Fée makes mention here of a kind called the Rosa myriacantha by Decandolle (the “thousand-thorn rose”), which is found in great abundance in the south of Europe, and other parts of it.] the petals of which are numerous, but extremely small. The essential points of difference in the rose are the number [Fée remarks on this passage, that the beauty of the flower and the number of the petals are always in an inverse proportion to the number of thorns, which disappear successively the more carefully the plant is cultivated.] of the petals, the comparative number [This is most probably the meaning of “Asperitate, levore.”] of thorns on the stem, the colour, and the smell. The number of the petals, which is never less than five, goes on increasing in amount, till we find one variety with as many as a hundred, and thence known as the “centifolia:” [Still known as the “Rosa centifolia.” Its petals sometimes exceed three hundred in number; and it is the most esteemed of all for its fragrant smell.] in Italy, it is to be found in Campania, and in Greece, in the vicinity of Philippi, though this last is not the place of its natural [“Non suæ terræ proventu.”] growth. Mount Pangæeus, [This rose is mentioned also by Theophrastus, Hist. Plant. B. vi. c. 6. From the description that Pliny gives of it, Fée is inclined to think that it is some variety of the Rosa rubrifolia, which is often found in mountainous localities.] in the same vicinity, produces a rose with numerous petals of diminutive size: the people of those parts are in the habit of transplanting it, a method which greatly tends to improve its growth. This kind, however, is not remarkable for its smell, nor yet is the rose which has a very large or very broad petal: indeed, we may state in a few words, that the best proof of the perfume of the flower is the comparative roughness of the calyx. [This assertion is borrowed from Theophrastus, Hist. Plant. B. vi. c. 6. Fée remarks that there is no truth in it. It is not improbable, however, that the word “cortex” here may mean, not the calyx, but the bark of the stem, in reference to its exemption from thorns. The τραχὺ τὸ κάτω of Theophrastus would seem to admit of that rendering. See Note above.]

Cæpio, who lived in the reign of the Emperor Tiberius, asserts that the centifolia is never employed for chaplets, except at the extreme [“Extremas velut ad cardines.”] points of union as it were, being remarkable neither for its smell [This is not the case with the Rosa centifolia of modern botany. See Note above. It is not improbable, however, that the reading is “probabilis,” and that this passage belongs to the next sentence.] nor its beauty. There is another variety of rose, too, called the “Grecian” rose by our people, and “lychnis” [The Lychnis, Fée remarks, is erroneously classed by Pliny among the roses. It is generally agreed among naturalists that it is the garden flower, the Agrostemma coronaria of Linnæus; which, however, does not grow in humid soils, but in steep, rocky places.] by the Greeks: it grows nowhere except in humid soils, and has never more than five petals: it does not exceed the violet in size, and is destitute of smell. There is another kind, again, known to us as the “Græcula” [Or “small Greek” rose. Some commentators have identified it with the Rosa silvestris, odorata, flore albo of C. Bauhin, a wild white rose.] the petals of which are tightly rolled together, and which never open except when pressed in the hand, it having always the appearance, in fact, of being in bud: the petals of it are remarkably large. Another kind, again, springs from a stem like that of the mallow, the leaves being similar to those of the olive—the name given to it is “macetum.” [Sillig thinks that this may mean the “Macedonian” rose. Another reading is “moscheuton.” Fée says that it is not a rose at all, but one of the Malvaceæ belonging to the genus Alcæa; one variety of which is called the Alcæa rosa.] There is the rose of autumn, too, known to us as the “coroniola,” [Or “little chaplet.” Possibly a variety of the Eglantine, the Rosa canina or dog-rose, Fée suggests.] which is of a middle size, between the varieties just mentioned. All these kinds, however, are destitute of smell, with the exception of the coroniola, and the one which grows on the bramble: [The Eglantine.] so extended is the scope for fictitious [This seems to be the meaning of “tot modis adulteratur:” the roses without smell appearing to him to be not genuine roses.] productions!

And, indeed, the genuine rose, for the most part, is indebted for its qualities to the nature of the soil. That of Cyrenæ [The Rosa Damascena of Miller, Fée thinks, our Damascus rose.] is the most odoriferous of all, and hence it is that the unguents of that place are so remarkably fine: at Carthage, again, in Spain, there are early [The earliest rose in France and Spain, Fée says, is the “pompon,” the variety Pomponæa of the Rosa centifolia.] roses throughout all the winter. The temperature, too, of the climate is not without its influence: for in some years we find the roses much less odoriferous than in others; in addition to which, their smell is always more powerful when grown in dry soils [This is consistent with modern experience.] than in humid ones. The rose does not admit of being planted in either a rich or an argillaceous soil, nor yet on irrigated land; being contented with a thin, light earth, and more particularly attached to ground on which old building rubbish has been laid.

The rose of Campania is early, that of Miletus late, but it is the rose of Præneste that goes off the very latest of all. For the rose, the ground is generally dug to a greater depth than it is for corn, but not so deep as for the vine. It grows but very slowly [From Theophrastus, Hist. Plant. B. vi. c. 6. The rose is but very rarely reproduced from seed.] from the seed, which is found in the calyx beneath the petals of the flower, covered with a sort of down; hence it is that the method of grafting is usually the one preferred, or else propagation from the eyes of the root, as in the reed. [See B. xvi. c. 67, and B. xvii. c. 33.] One kind is grafted, which bears a pale flower, with thorny branches of a remarkable length; it belongs to the quinquefolia variety, being one of the Greek roses. [Previously mentioned in this Chapter. The meaning of this passage, however, is extremely doubtful. “Unum genus inseritur pallidæ, spinosæ, longissimis virgis, quinquifoliæ, quæ Græcis altera est.”] All roses are improved by being pruned and cauterized; transplanting, too, makes them grow, like the vine, all the better, and with the greatest rapidity. The slips are cut some four fingers in length or more, and are planted immediately after the setting of the Vergiliæ; then, while the west winds are prevalent, they are transplanted at intervals of a foot, the earth being frequently turned up about them.

Persons whose object it is to grow early roses, make a hole a foot in width about the root, and pour warm water into it, at the period when the buds are beginning to put forth. [If the water was only lukewarm, Fée says, it would be of no use, and if hotter, the speedy death of the tree would be the result.]

Chap. 11. (5.)—The Lily: Four Varieties of It.

The lily holds the next highest rank after the rose, and has a certain affinity [“Quâdam cognatione.” He alludes to a maceration of the petals of the rose and lily in oil. The aroma of the lily, Fée says, has not been fixed by any method yet found.] with it in respect of its unguent and the oil extracted from it, which is known to us as “lirinon.” [See B. xiii. c. 2.] Blended, too, with roses, the lily [The Lilium candidum of Linnæus. Fée remarks that the “Lilium” of the Romans and the λείριον of the Greeks is evidently derived from the laleh of the Persians.] produces a remarkably fine effect; for it begins to make its appearance, in fact, just as the rose is in the very middle of its season. There is no flower that grows to a greater height than the lily, sometimes, indeed, as much as three cubits; the head of it being always drooping, as though the neck of the flower were unable to support its weight. The whiteness of the lily is quite remarkable, the petals being striated on the exterior; the flower is narrow at the base, and gradually expanding in shape like a tapering [“Calathi.” The “calathus” was a work-basket of tapering shape; it was also used for carrying fruits and flowers, Ovid, Art. Am. ii. 264. Cups, too, for wine were called by this name, Virg. Ecl. v. 71.] cup with the edges curving outwards, the fine pistils of the flower, and the stamens with their antheræ of a saffron colour, standing erect in the middle. [As this passage has been somewhat amplified in the translation, it will perhaps be as well to insert it: “Resupinis per ambitum labris, tenuique pilo et staminum stantibus in medio crocis.”] Hence the perfume of the lily, as well as its colour, is two-fold, there being one for the petals and another for the stamens. The difference, however, between them is but very small, and when the flower is employed for making lily unguents and oils, the petals are never rejected.

There is a flower, not unlike the lily, produced by the plant known to us as the “convolvulus.” [The Convolvulus sæpium of modern botany; the only resemblance in which to the lily is in the colour, it being totally different in every other respect.] It grows among shrubs, is totally destitute of smell, and has not the yellow antheræ of the lily within: only vying with it in its whiteness, it would almost appear to be the rough sketch [“Rudimentum.” She must have set to work in a very roundabout way, Fée thinks, and one in which it would be quite impossible for a naturalist to follow her.] made by Nature when she was learning how to make the lily. The white lily is propagated in all the various ways which are employed for the cultivation of the rose, [The white lily is reproduced from the offsets of the bulbs; and, as Fée justly remarks, it is highly absurd to compare the mode of cultivation with that of the rose, which is propagated from slips.] as also by means of a certain tearlike gum [This absurd notion is derived from Theophrastus, Hist. Plant. B. ii. c. 2, and B. vi. c. 6.] which belongs to it, similarly to hipposelinum [See B. xix. c..] in fact: indeed, there is no plant that is more prolific than this, a single root often giving birth to as many as fifty bulbs. [The root really consists of certain fine fibres, to which the bulbs, or rather cloves or offsets, are attached.] There is, also, a red lily, known by the name of “crinon” [Judging from what Theocritus says, in his 35th Idyl, the “crinon” would appear to have been a white lily. Sprengel, however, takes the red lily of Pliny to be the scarlet lily, the Lilium Chalcedonicum of Linnæus.] to the Greeks, though there are some authors who call the flower of it “cynorrodon.” [Or “dog-rose:” name now given to one of the wild roses.] The most esteemed are those of Antiochia and Laodicea in Syria, and next to them that of Phaselis. [See B. xiii. c. 9.] To the fourth rank belongs the flower that grows in Italy.

Chap. 12.—The Narcissus: Three Varieties of It.

There is a purple [Fée remarks, that it is singular that Pliny, as also Virgil, Ecl. v. l. 38, should have given the epithet “purpureus” to the Narcissus. It is owing, Fée says, to the red nectary of the flower, which is also bordered with a very bright red.] lily, too, which sometimes has a double stem; it differs only from the other lilies in having a more fleshy root and a bulb of larger size, but undivided: [Into cloves or offsets.] the name given to it is “narcissus.” [The Narcissus poeticus of Linnæus. Pliny gives the origin of its name in c. 75 of this Book.] A second variety of this lily has a white flower, with a purple corolla. There is also this difference between the ordinary lily and the narcissus, that in the latter the leaves spring from the root of the plant. The finest are those which grow on the mountains of Lycia. A third variety is similar to the others in every respect, except that the corolla of the plant is green. They are all of them late [Though supported by Theophrastus, this assertion is quite erroneous. In France, even, Fée says, the Narcissus poeticus blossoms at the end of April, and sooner, probably, in the climates of Greece and Italy.] flowers: indeed, they only bloom after the setting of Arcturus, [See B. xviii. c.. It is just possible that Pliny and Theophrastus may be speaking of the Narcissus scrotinus of Linnæus, which is found in great abundance in the southern provinces of Naples, and is undoubtedly the flower alluded to by Virgil in the words, “Nec sera comantem Narcissum,” Georg. iv. ll. 122, 123.] and at the time of the autumnal equinox.

Chap. 13.—How Seed Is Stained to Produce Tinted Flowers.

There has been invented [Fée remarks, that the extravagant proceeding here described by Pliny with a seriousness that is perfectly ridiculous, does not merit any discussion.] also a method of tinting the lily, thanks to the taste of mankind for monstrous productions. The dried stalks [When detached from the bulb, the stem of the lily will infallibly die.] of the lily are tied together in the month of July, and hung up in the smoke: then, in the following March, when the small knots [“Nudantibus se nodulis.” There are no such knots in the lily, as Fée remarks.] are beginning to disclose themselves, the stalks are left to steep in the lees of black or Greek wine, in order that they may contract its colour, and are then planted out in small trenches, some semi-sextarii of wine-lees being poured around them. By this method purple lilies are obtained, it being a very remarkable thing that we should be able to dye a plant to such a degree as to make it produce a coloured flower.