A Victorian Flower Dictionary - Mandy Kirkby [21]
The Victorians adored the mistletoe, and like the holly it played a crucial role in their Christmas festivities. With other greenery, it hung in the hallway, around doors and picture frames; and on its own it would be hung up high for the favourite custom of kissing under the mistletoe. A huge bunch of it is suspended from the ceiling of Mr Wardle’s house in the ‘Phiz’ illustration of his Christmas Eve party in The Pickwick Papers, and again in John Leech’s illustration of Mr Fezziwig’s ball in A Christmas Carol.
But every now and then a sense of the strangeness and mysterious power of the mistletoe would appear amongst the season’s festivities. It was forbidden to include the plant in church decorations because of its old pagan associations, and this popular Christmas song, said to be based on fact, has more than a hint of the supernatural about it:
THE MISTLETOE BOUGH
The mistletoe hung in the castle hall;
The holly branch shone on the old oak wall.
The Baron’s retainers were blithe and gay,
Keeping the Christmas holiday.
The Baron beheld with a father’s pride
His beautiful child, Lord Lovell’s bride.
While she, with her bright eyes, seemed to be
The star of that goodly company.
Oh, the mistletoe bough,
Oh, the mistletoe bough.
‘I’m weary of dancing, now,’ she cried;
‘Here, tarry a moment, I’ll hide, I’ll hide,
And, Lovell, be sure you’re the first to trace
The clue to my secret lurking place.’
Away she ran, and her friends began
Each tower to search and each nook to scan.
And young Lovell cried, ‘Oh, where dost thou hide?
I’m alone without you, my own dear bride.’
Oh, the mistletoe bough,
Oh, the mistletoe bough.
They sought her that night, they sought her next day,
They sought her in vain when a week passed away.
In the highest, the lowest, the loneliest spot,
Young Lovell sought wildly, but found her not.
And years flew by, and their grief at last
Was told as a sorrowful tale long past;
And when Lovell appear’d the children cried,
‘See the old man weeps for his fairy bride.’
Oh, the mistletoe bough,
Oh, the mistletoe bough.
At length an old chest that had long laid hid
Was found in the castle; they raised the lid.
And a skeleton form lay mouldering there
In the bridal wreath of that lady fair.
Oh, sad was her fate! – in sportive jest
She hid from her lord in the old oak chest,
It closed with a spring! and dreadful doom,
The bride lay clasp’d in a living tomb.
Oh, the mistletoe bough,
Oh, the mistletoe bough.
THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY
MOSS
Maternal Love
A plant of immense variety, moss can be found in some of the most inhospitable spots, from barren ground to dank and dripping woodland. It takes possession of such places, covers them with its own substance and brings them alive. In winter, when all other greenery has deserted us, it remains to gladden our hearts and protect the roots of plants from chilling blasts. Birds value its softness as valuable lining for the nests they are preparing for their offspring, and in the summer, beneath overarching trees, it forms emerald carpets and softens the ground where we take our rest. Like a mother’s love, it is a constant presence, it enfolds and protects and never deserts us.
Moss cannot boast of leaf or bloom,
Moss sheds around no sweet perfume,
Yet still we find her in the bowers
In close companionship with flowers!
In spring when Nature opens first
Her store of buds so fondly nursed,
Green moss on sunny bank she sets
As cradles for young violets.
ANON.
The Victorians gathered moss in great quantities for commercial and home use: flower-girls would line their baskets with it and wrapped it round the base of bouquets and buttonholes to retain moisture. A wicker basket lined with moss and filled with primroses would make a loving present from a mother to a child.
Moss often frequents tranquil spots and shady banks, and recreating