A Victorian Flower Dictionary - Mandy Kirkby [13]
George Frederic Watts captured Clytie’s yearning in his 1868 sculpture of that name, which shows the nymph metamorphosing from a cluster of leaves, straining and twisting her neck to catch a glimpse of Apollo behind her. Watts believed that Clytie’s devoted, searching gaze also represented man’s quest for spiritual enlightenment.
The blossoms of the heliotrope form clusters of small, delicate flowers, white or lilac in colour, and its perfume is surprisingly intoxicating. The famous French botanist Antoine Laurent de Jussieu discovered the heliotrope in its native Peru, where, on finding himself suddenly overpowered by a delicious fragrance, he turned around expecting to find a gaudy flower but saw only the handsome heliotrope. He was so struck by the wonderful scent that he collected its seeds and sent them to the royal gardens in Paris, where it was first cultivated in the mid-eighteenth century.
The flower was a firm favourite in France, and it would be displayed in the most precious vase in the house, or planted en masse in ornamental troughs. Its warm, rich scent is like that of vanilla, and if the fresh flower was not available a lady could purchase perfumer Eugène Rimmel’s expensive fragrance ‘Héliotrope Blanc’ instead. A husband who sends his wife a bouquet of heliotrope, perhaps the variety ‘Beauty of the Boudoir’, confirms his faithful and constant love.
When a widow entered the period of half-mourning, usually eighteen months after her husband’s death, it was permissible to introduce a little colour into her costume; grey, white and lavender were the colours she was able to draw upon. The lilac or white heliotrope made a perfect corsage, its sentiment the perfect expression of a widow’s sorrow.
TRUE LOVE
No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets,
But as truly loves on to the close!
As the sun flower turns on her god, when he sets,
The same look which she turn’d when he rose.
THOMAS MOORE
HOLLY
Foresight
The holly is the loveliest of evergreens: with its glossy leaves and scarlet berries, it has a festive spirit, and in the darkest days of winter it encourages us to be of good cheer, to celebrate the continuity of life and to welcome all that is to come. It was given the emblem of ‘foresight’ because nature protects it with prickly leaves until it has grown high above the reach of foraging cattle, after which the leaves, now out of danger, lose their sharpness.
Holly has always been used as a guard against misfortune. Pagan Romans would send sprigs to friends to wish them good health in the coming year; in later centuries holly branches were hung from the eaves to protect the house and its inhabitants. There was a strong tradition of using holly to predict the future, and anxious Victorians could indulge in this pursuit to allay their fears. Tiny pieces of candle would be placed on the leaves, which were floated in a saucer of water; the candles were then lit and the success or failure of one’s affairs could be determined according to whether they floated or sank. Nervous young maidens, who wished to know who they were going to marry, made good use of the plant too. Nine leaves of smooth-leaved holly placed under the pillow and she would dream of her future husband; holly gathered into a three-cornered cloth and knotted nine times would produce the same effect.
Holly played an essential part in the Victorian Christmas, wound round gas lamps and picture frames, and bunches of the berries, the