Part 16

During the summer we note in the dry, open fields the blue racemes of the Indian tobacco, and in the later year the inflated pods which give it its specific name. The plant is said to be poisonous if taken internally, and yields a “quack-medicine” of some notoriety. The Indians smoked its dried leaves, which impart to the tongue a peculiar tobacco-like sensation.

There are other species of lobelia which may be distinguished by their narrower leaves and uninflated pods, and by their choice of moist localities.

HOG PEA-NUT. _Amphicarpæa monoica._ Pulse Family (p. 16).

_Stem._—Climbing and twining over plants and shrubs. _Leaves._—Divided into three somewhat four-sided leaflets. _Flowers._—Papilionaceous, pale lilac, or purplish, in nodding racemes. _Pod._—One inch long.

Along the shadowy lanes which wind through the woods the climbing members of the Pulse family are very abundant. During the late summer and autumn the lonely wayside is skirted by

Vines, with clust’ring bunches growing; Plants, with goodly burden bowing.

And in and out among this luxuriant growth twist the slender stems of the ill-named hog pea-nut, its delicate lilac blossoms nodding from the coarse stalks of the golden-rods and iron-weeds or blending with the purple asters.

This plant bears flowers of two kinds: the upper ones are perfect, but apparently useless, as they seldom ripen fruit; while the lower or subterranean ones are without petals or attractiveness of appearance, but yield eventually at least one large ripe seed.

BEACH PEA. _Lathyrus maritimus._ Pulse Family (p. 16).

About one foot high, or more. _Stem._—Stout. _Leaves._—Divided into from three to five pairs of thick oblong leaflets. _Flowers._—Papilionaceous, large, purple, clustered.

The deep-hued flowers of this stout plant are commonly found along the sand-hills of the seashore, and also on the shores of the Great Lakes, blooming in early summer. Both flowers and leaves are at once recognized as belonging to the Pulse family.

——— ——— _Strophostyles angulosa._ Pulse Family (p. 16).

_Stems._—Branched, one to six feet long, prostrate or climbing. _Leaves._—Divided into three leaflets, which are more or less prominently lobed toward the base, the terminal two-lobed; or some or all without lobes. _Flowers._—Purplish or greenish, on long flower-stalks. _Pod._—Linear, straight, or nearly so.

This somewhat inconspicuous plant is found back of the sand-hills along the coast, often in the neighborhood of the beach pea, and climbing over river-banks, thickets, and fences as well. It can usually be identified by its oddly lobed leaflets.

BLUE VETCH. _Vicia cracca._ Pulse Family (p. 16).

_Leaves._—Divided into twenty to twenty-four leaflets, with slender tips. _Flowers._—Papilionaceous, blue turning purple, growing in close, many-flowered, one-sided spikes.

This is an emigrant from Europe which is found in some of our eastern fields and thickets as far south as New Jersey. It usually climbs more or less by means of the tendril at the tip of its divided leaves, and sometimes forms bright patches of vivid blue over the meadows.

Another member of this genus is _V. sativa_, the common vetch or tare, with purplish or pinkish flowers, growing singly or in pairs from the axils of the leaves, which leaves are divided into fewer and narrower leaflets than those of the blue vetch. This species also takes possession of cultivated fields as well as of waste places along the roadside.

CHICORY. SUCCORY. _Cichorium Intybus._ Composite Family (p. 13).

_Stems._—Branching. _Leaves._—The lower oblong or lance-shaped, partly clasping, sometimes sharply incised, the floral ones minute. _Flower-heads._—Blue, set close to the stem, composed entirely of strap-shaped flowers; opening at different times.

Oh, not in Ladies’ gardens, My peasant posy! Smile thy dear blue eyes, Nor only—nearer to the skies— In upland pastures, dim and sweet,— But by the dusty road Where tired feet Toil to and fro; Where flaunting Sin May see thy heavenly hue, Or weary Sorrow look from thee Toward a more tender blue![12]

This roadside weed blossoms in late summer. It is extensively cultivated in France, where the leaves are blanched and used in a salad which is called “Barbe des Capucins.” The roots are roasted and mixed with coffee both there and in England.

Horace mentions its leaves as part of his frugal fare, and Pliny remarks upon the importance of the plant to the Egyptians, who formerly used it in great quantities, and of whose diet it is still a staple article.

BLUE AND PURPLE ASTERS. _Aster._ Composite Family (p. 13).

_Flower-heads._—Composed of blue or purple ray-flowers, with a centre of yellow disk-flowers.

As about one hundred and twenty different species of aster are native to the United States, and as fifty-four of these are found in Northeastern America, all but a dozen being purple or blue (_i.e._, with purple or blue ray-flowers), and as even botanists find that it requires patient application to distinguish these many species, only a brief description of the more conspicuous and common ones is here attempted.

Along the dry roadsides in early August we may look for the bright blue-purple flowers of _A. patens_. This is a low-growing species, with rough, narrowly oblong, clasping leaves, and widely spreading branches, whose slender branchlets are usually terminated by a solitary flower-head.

Probably no member of the group is more striking than the New England aster, _A. Novæ Angliæ_, whose stout hairy stem (sometimes eight feet high), numerous lance-shaped leaves, and large violet-purple or sometimes pinkish flower-heads, are conspicuous in the swamps of late summer.

_A. puniceus_ is another tall swamp-species, with long showy pale lavender ray-flowers.

One of the most commonly encountered asters is _A. cordifolius_, which is far from being the only heart-leaved species, despite its title. Its many small, pale blue or almost white flower-heads mass themselves abundantly along the wood-borders and shaded roadsides.

Perhaps the loveliest of all the tribe is the seaside purple aster, _A. spectabilis_, a low plant with narrowly oblong leaves and large bright heads, the violet-purple ray-flowers of which are nearly an inch long. This grows in sandy soil near the coast and may be found putting forth its royal, daisy-like blossoms into November.

Great Britain can claim but one native aster, _A. Trifolium_, or sea-starwort as it is called. Many American species are cultivated in English gardens under the general title of Michaelmas daisies. The starwort of Italy is _A. amellus_. The Swiss species is _A. Alpinum_.

This beautiful genus, like that of the golden-rod, is one of the peculiar glories of our country. Every autumn these two kinds of flowers clothe our roadsides and meadows with so regal a mantle of purple and gold that we cannot but wonder if the flowers of any other region combine in such a radiant display.

IRON-WEED. _Vernonia Noveboracensis._ Composite Family (p. 13).

_Stem._—Leafy, usually tall. _Leaves._—Alternate, somewhat lance-oblong. _Flower-heads._—An intense red-purple, loosely clustered, composed entirely of tubular flowers.

Along the roadsides and low meadows near the coast the iron-weed adds its deep purple hues to the color-pageant of late August. By the uninitiated the plant is often mistaken for an aster, but a moment’s inspection will discover that the minute flowers which compose each flower-head are all tubular in shape, and that the ray or strap-shaped blossoms which an aster must have are wanting. These flower-heads are surrounded by an involucre composed of small scales which are tipped with a tiny point and are usually of a purplish color also.

BLUE CURLS. BASTARD PENNYROYAL. _Trichostema dichotomum._ Mint Family (p. 16).

_Stem._—Rather low, branching, clammy. _Leaves._—Opposite, narrowly oblong or lance-shaped, glutinous, with a balsamic odor. _Flowers._—Purple, occasionally pinkish, not usually clustered. _Calyx._—Five-cleft, two-lipped. _Corolla._—Five-lobed, the three lower lobes more or less united. _Stamens._—Four, very long and curved, protruding. _Pistil._—One, with a two-lobed style.

In the sandy fields of late summer this little plant attracts notice by its many purple flowers. Its corolla soon falls and exposes to view the four little nutlets of the ovary lying within the enlarged calyx like tiny eggs in their nest. Its aromatic odor is very perceptible, and the little glands with which it is covered may be seen with the aid of a magnifier. The generic name, _Trichostema_, signifies _hairy stamens_ and alludes to the curved hair-like filaments.

SEA LAVENDER. MARSH ROSEMARY. _Statice Caroliniana._ Leadwort Family.

_Stems._—Leafless, branching. _Leaves._—From the root, somewhat oblong, thick. _Flowers._—Lavender-color or pale purple, tiny, scattered or loosely spiked along one side of the branches. _Calyx._—Dry, funnel-form. _Corolla._—Small, with five petals. _Stamens._—Five. _Pistil._—One, with five, rarely three, styles.

In August many of the salt marshes are blue with the tiny flowers of the sea lavender. The spray-like appearance of the little plant would seem to account for its name of rosemary, which is derived from the Latin for _sea-spray_, but Dr. Prior states that this name was given it on account of “its usually growing on the sea-coast, and its odor.”

Blossoming with the lavender we often find the great rose mallows and the dainty sea pinks. The marsh St. John’s-wort as well is frequently a neighbor, and, a little later in the season, the salt marsh fleabane.

BLAZING STAR. _Liatris scariosa._ Composite Family (p. 13).

_Stem._—Simple, stout, hoary, two to five feet high. _Leaves._—Alternate, narrowly lance-shaped. _Flower-heads._—Racemed along the upper part of the stem, composed entirely of tubular flowers of a beautiful shade of rose-purple.

These showy and beautiful flowers lend still another tint to the many-hued salt marshes and glowing inland meadows of the falling year. Gray assigns them to dry localities from New England to Minnesota and southward, while my own experience of them is limited to the New England coast, where their stout leafy stems and bright-hued blossoms are noticeable among the golden-rods and asters of September. The hasty observer sometimes confuses the plant with the iron-weed, but the two flowers are very different in color and in their manner of growth.

COMMON DITTANY. _Cunila Mariana._ Mint Family (p. 16).

About one foot high. _Stem._—Much branched, reddish. _Leaves._—Opposite, aromatic, dotted, smooth, ovate, rounded or heart-shaped at base, set close to the stem. _Flowers._—Small, purple, lilac or white, clustered. _Calyx._—Five-toothed. _Corolla._—Small, two-lipped, the upper lip erect, usually notched, the lower three-cleft. _Stamens._—Two, erect, protruding. _Pistil._—One, with a two-lobed style.

In late August or early September the delicate flowers of the dittany brighten the dry, sterile banks which flank so many of our roadsides. At a season when few plants are flowering save the omnipresent members of the great Composite family these dainty though unpretentious blossoms are especially attractive. The plant has a pleasant fragrance.

CLOSED GENTIAN. _Gentiana Andrewsii._ Gentian Family.

_Stem._—One to two feet high, upright, smooth. _Leaves._—Opposite, narrowly oval or lance-shaped. _Flowers._—Blue to purple, clustered at the summit of the stem and often in the axils of the leaves. _Calyx._—Four or five-cleft. _Corolla._—Closed at the mouth, large, oblong. _Stamens._—Four or five. _Pistil._—One, with two stigmas.

Few flowers adapt themselves better to the season than the closed gentian. We look for it in September when the early waning days and frost-suggestive nights prove so discouraging to the greater part of the floral world. Then in somewhat moist, shaded places along the roadside we find this vigorous, autumnal-looking plant, with stout stems, leaves that bronze as the days advance, and deep-tinted flowers firmly closed as though to protect the delicate reproductive organs within from the sharp touches of the late year.

To me the closed gentian usually shows a deep blue or even purple countenance, although like the fringed gentian and so many other flowers its color is lighter in the shade than in the sunlight. But Thoreau claims for it a “transcendent blue,” “a splendid blue, light in the shade, turning to purple with age.” “Bluer than the bluest sky, they lurk in the moist and shady recesses of the banks,” he writes. Mr. Burroughs also finds it “intensely blue.”

FIVE-FLOWERED GENTIAN. _Gentiana quinqueflora._ Gentian Family.

_Stem._—Slender, branching, one or two feet high. _Leaves._—Opposite, ovate, lance-shaped, partly clasping. _Flowers._—Pale blue, smaller than those of the closed gentian, in clusters of about five at the summit of stems and branches. _Calyx._—Four or five-cleft, small. _Corolla._—Funnel-form, four or five-lobed, its lobes bristle-pointed. _Stamens._—Four or five. _Pistil._—One, with two stigmas.

Although the five-flowered gentian is far less frequently encountered than the closed gentian, it is very common in certain localities. Gray assigns it to “moist hills” and “along the mountains to Florida.” I have found it growing in great abundance on the Shawangunk Mountains in Orange County, N. Y., where it flowers in September.

FRINGED GENTIAN. _Gentiana crinita._ Gentian Family.

_Stem._—One to two feet high. _Leaves._—Opposite, lance-shaped or narrowly oval. _Flowers._—Blue, large. _Calyx._—Four-cleft, the lobes unequal. _Corolla._—Funnel-form, with four fringed, spreading lobes. _Stamens._—Four. _Pistil._—One, with two stigmas.

In late September when we have almost ceased to hope for new flowers we are in luck if we chance upon this

—blossom bright with autumn dew

whose

—sweet and quiet eye Looks through its fringes to the sky, Blue—blue—as if that sky let fall, A flower from its cerulean wall;[13]

for the fringed gentian is fickle in its habits, and the fact that we have located it one season does not mean that we will find it in the same place the following year; being a biennial, with seeds that are easily washed away, it is apt to change its haunts from time to time. So our search for this plant is always attended with the charm of uncertainty. Once having ferreted out its new abiding-place, however, we can satiate ourselves with its loveliness, which it usually lavishes unstintingly upon the moist meadows which it has elected to honor.

Thoreau describes its color as “such a dark blue! surpassing that of the male bluebird’s back!” My experience has been that the flowers which grow in the shade are of a clear pure azure, “Heaven’s own blue,” as Bryant claims; while those which are found in open, sunny meadows may be justly said to vie with the back of the male bluebird. If the season has been a mild one we shall perhaps find a few blossoms lingering into November, but the plant is probably blighted by a severe frost, although Miss Emily Dickinson’s little poem voices another opinion:

· · · · ·

But just before the snows There came a purple creature That ravished all the hill: And Summer hid her forehead, And mockery was still. The frosts were her condition: The Tyrian would not come Until the North evoked it, “Creator! shall I bloom?”

VI MISCELLANEOUS

SKUNK CABBAGE. SWAMP CABBAGE. _Symplocarpus fœtidus._ Arum Family.

_Leaves._—Large, becoming one or two feet long; heart-shaped, appearing later than the purple-mottled spathe and hidden flowers. _Flowers._—Small and inconspicuous; packed on the fleshy spike which is hidden within the spathe.

If we are bold enough to venture into certain swampy places in the leafless woods and brown cheerless meadows of March, we notice that the sharply pointed spathes of the skunk cabbage have already pierced the surface of the earth. Until I chanced upon a passage in Thoreau’s Journal under date of October 31st, I had supposed that these “hermits of the bog” were only encouraged to make their appearance by the advent of those first balmy, spring-suggestive days which occasionally occur as early as February. But it seems that many of these young buds had pushed their way upward before the winter set in, for Thoreau counsels those who are afflicted with the melancholy of autumn to go to the swamps, “and see the brave spears of skunk-cabbage buds already advanced toward a new year.” “Mortal and human creatures must take a little respite in this fall of the year,” he writes. “Their spirits do flag a little. There is a little questioning of destiny, and thinking to go like cowards to where the weary shall be at rest. But not so with the skunk-cabbage. Its withered leaves fall and are transfixed by a rising bud. Winter and death are ignored. The circle of life is complete. Are these false prophets? Is it a lie or a vain boast underneath the skunk-cabbage bud pushing it upward and lifting the dead leaves with it?”

The purplish shell-like leaf, which curls about the tiny flowers which are thus hidden from view, is a rather grewsome-looking object, suggestive of a great snail when it lifts itself fairly above its muddy bed. When one sees it grouped with brother-cabbages it is easy to understand why a nearly allied species, which abounds along the Italian Riviera, should be entitled “Cappucini” by the neighboring peasants, for the bowed, hooded appearance of these plants might easily suggest the cowled Capuchins.

It seems unfortunate that our earliest spring flower (for such it undoubtedly is) should possess so unpleasant an odor as to win for itself the unpoetic title of skunk cabbage. There is also some incongruity in the heading of the great floral procession of the year by the minute hidden blossoms of this plant. That they are enabled to survive the raw March winds which are rampant when they first appear is probably due to the protection afforded them by the leathery leaf or spathe. When the true leaves unfold they mark the wet woods and meadows with bright patches of rich foliage, which with that of the hellebore, flash constantly into sight as we travel through the country in April.

It is interesting to remember that the skunk cabbage is nearly akin to the spotless calla lily, the purple-mottled spathe of the one answering to the snowy petal-like leaf of the other. Meehan tells us that the name bear-weed was given to the plant by the early Swedish settlers in the neighborhood of Philadelphia. It seems that the bears greatly relished this early green, which Meehan remarks “must have been a hot morsel, as the juice is acrid, and is said to possess some narcotic power, while that of the root, when chewed, causes the eyesight to grow dim.”

WILD GINGER. _Asarum Canadense._ Birthwort Family.

_Leaves._—One or two on each plant, kidney or heart-shaped, fuzzy, long-stalked. _Flower._—Dull purplish-brown, solitary, close to the ground on a short flower-stalk from the fork of the leaves. _Calyx._—Three-cleft, bell-shaped. _Corolla._—None. _Stamens._—Twelve. _Pistil._—One, with a thick style and six thick, radiating stigmas.

Certain flowers might be grouped under the head of “vegetable cranks.” Here would be classed the evening primrose, which only opens at night, the closed gentian, which never opens at all, and the wild ginger, whose odd, unlovely flower seeks protection beneath its long-stemmed fuzzy leaves, and hides its head upon the ground as if unwilling to challenge comparison with its more brilliant brethren. Unless already familiar with this plant there is nothing to tell one when it has reached its flowering season; and many a wanderer through the rocky woods in early May quite overlooks its shy, shamefaced blossom.

The ginger-like flavor of the rootstock is responsible for its common name. It grows wild in many parts of Europe and is cultivated in England, where at one time it was considered a remedy for headache and deafness.

JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT. INDIAN TURNIP. _Arisæma triphyllum._ Arum Family.

_Scape._—Terminated by a hood-like leaf or spathe. _Leaves._—Generally two, each divided into three leaflets. _Flowers._—Small and inconspicuous, packed about the lower part of the fleshy spike or spadix which is shielded by the spathe. _Fruit._—A bright scarlet berry which is packed upon the spadix with many others.

These quaint little preachers, ensconced in their delicate pulpits, are well known to all who love the woods in early spring. Sometimes these “pulpits” are of a light green veined with a deeper tint; again they are stained with purple. This difference in color has been thought to indicate the sex of the flowers within—the males are said to be shielded by the green, the females by the purple, hoods. In the nearly allied cuckoo-pints of England, matters appear to be reversed: these plants are called “Lords and Ladies” by the children, the purple-tinged ones being the “Lords,” the light green ones the “Ladies.” The generic name, _Arisæma_, signifies _bloody arum_, and refers to the dark purple stains of the spathe. An old legend claims that these were received at the Crucifixion:

Beneath the cross it grew; And in the vase-like hollow of the leaf, Catching from that dread shower of agony A few mysterious drops, transmitted thus Unto the groves and hills their healing stains, A heritage, for storm or vernal shower Never to blow away.

The Indians were in the habit of boiling the bright scarlet berries which are so conspicuous in our autumn woods and devouring them with great relish; they also discovered that the bulb-like base or _corm_, as it is called, lost its acridity on cooking, and made nutritious food, winning for the plant its name of Indian turnip. One of its more local titles is memory-root, which it owes to a favorite school-boy trick of tempting others to bite into the blistering corm with results likely to create a memorable impression.

The English cuckoo-pint yielded a starch which was greatly valued in the time of Elizabethan ruffs, although it proved too blistering to the hands of the washerwomen to remain long in use. Owing to the profusion with which the plant grows in Ireland efforts have been made to utilize it as food in periods of scarcity. By grating the corm into water, and then pouring off the liquid and drying the sediment, it is said that a tasteless, but nutritious, powder can be procured.