Art-Studies from Nature, as Applied to Design For the use of architects, designers, and manufacturers

Part 5

Chapter 53,966 wordsPublic domain

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.