From Cedar to Hyssop
VI. Sacred Trees and Magical Plants
1. SACRED TREES.
In Artas,
as in all parts of Palestine, we find traces of the ancient veneration of
trees, people still regarding certain trees as sacred. The sacredness is not
always of the same degree or quality, and the differences are interesting to
note.
Certain kinds of trees
are always holy, in their own right as it were, as, for example, the Cedar Tree which cannot go without mention, although not found in
the Palestine of today, the Olive tree (Zeitun) and
the Styrax (Abhar) q.v.
And of these kinds certain individual trees may be more holy
than others, as for example, the Cedars of Bsharri or
the Olive Tree of the Prophet near the Dome of the Rock, which grew from an
olive stone thrown down by the Prophet when he so miraculously visited
Jerusalem and the twigs of which are said to quiver on a certain day in the
year, when his soul descends and rests upon it.[1]
Then there are the holy
trees so common in many parts of the country, so happily spared by the woodman
and most grateful for their shade. Here we notice that these are more often oak
or terebinth than any other kind of tree; these two kinds, as we may remember,
dispute the honour of having been the Tree of Abraham at Mamre,
and both are pictured side by side on the site of Hebron shown on the mosaic
map of Palestine at Madeba. These magnificent trees,
sometimes in groves but more often singly, no doubt mark some ancient
sanctuary; among the people they are spoken of as if
inhabited by some saint or 'wely," more or less
to be identified with the tree itself. Among holy trees known of and visited by
the people of Artas and the neighbourhood one of the
most famous is the Oak Tree of the Badariya (q.v.)
Another and minor
sanctity is that attributed to trees such as the Meis
tree (Celtis australis) and
the Pomegranate, fortunate trees, in which no evil spirit can ever dwell and
under whose branches it is safe to sleep.
It is a difficult
question whether our next and last group of trees should be
considered blessed or cursed; they are definitely uncanny, often
inhabited by spirits malignant and dangerous to any who should venture to sleep
under them. Of such are the (Zizyphus spina Christi),
Sidr, the most beneficent of them, and
(Ceratonia siliqua) Kharub
, the fig, and the Sycomore fig,
which are very much to be feared.
[106]
We will now give some
notes on these different kinds of holy trees, except the Olive for that has been dealt with in an earlier section.
THE CEDAR OF LEBANON. Cedrus
Libani, Barr. Arz.
(Frontispiece).
The Cedar has ever been
the symbol of majesty and power. We read of "the cedars of God"[2] and that
the "trees of the Lord are full of sap, the cedars of Lebanon which he
hath planted.[3]
So too, today, the
cedar is called by the people of the country, 'arz
el Rabb,' " the
cedar of the Lord."[4] and the cedars still standing above Bsherri
in the desolate mountain wastes once covered with forests owe their
preservation to the veneration of Christian and Moslem alike. Was not the wall
round the trees built by a Turkish pasha in fulfilment of a vow? And was it not the Maronite Patriarch in the 18th
century who threatened with excommunication any of his flock who should break
so much as a branch from them?
Once a year the Maronites keep a feast under the trees and mass is said,
and all the simple folk round rejoice and come to pray
and picnic on the mountain. In the heart of the Grove, too, there is a tiny church.
Once, when we were visiting this place, the guardian of the church was asked to which saint the church was dedicated. He
replied, "To none." "But all churches have a name—is there no
saint here? Or perhaps there is a wely?" A flash
of anger came on the man's face. "Neither saint nor wely
is here," he cried, "this is the Church of the Lord" (Kenisat el Rabb).
So, today, as of old,
none is honoured under His cedars but the Lord alone.
107
Styrax officinale, L. Abhar. Styrax.
(Plate 71).
This is a very
beautiful small tree, with dark leaves, silvery underneath and sprays of white
flowers like orange blossom, only with long yellow stamens. The feeling is
strong still that this tree is holy and should never be cut
down; it is even unlucky to burn wood from the branches. When a
particularly fine tree was cut down during the war between Haifa and Nazareth it was spoken of even as far away as Artas and lamented as a sign of the times. When one asks
why the tree is holy one may be told that from this tree the staff of Moses was
made, which he had in his hand when he fled from Pharaoh into the desert and
which budded .and sprouted when he thrust it into the ground.
Rosaries are made from the seeds of it and some say that therefore
the tree is holy. Some say also that in olden days the holy incense was made
from the gum resin which exudes from its bark, the stacte of Exodus 30, 34. The gum called storax
today is from another tree, Liquidambar orientalis, a
native of Turkey, but it is most likely that the Palestinian stacte came from the local tree.[5] It also
seems that it was the storax of Gerarde,
which he thought evidently sweet, but rather a feminine triviality when he
says, "Of the gum there are made sundry excellent perfumes, pomanders,
sweet waters, sweet bags and sweet washing balls and divers other sweetelins and bracelets, whereof to write were impertinent
to this historie."[6]
The Oak Tree of the Badariya or Bedariya. Quercus lusitanica, Lam. Smdian
; Ballota.
In the district of our study there are some groups of trees sacred to the Badariya, between Beit Jala and
Jerusalem; the largest of these stands close to the shrine of the Badariya herself. She is a most mysterious female saint
suspected, from her Arabic name,[7] of some
connection with the moon, some say she is Ashtoreth
herself, others that she is a Moslem sheikha who has
supplanted her. Her shrine is a small walled enclosure, with her own dark room
within it, black with the burning of small oil lamps. The orthodox do not like
her cult overmuch and have dedicated another part of her enclosure to El Taiyyar, the Flying Saint, to counterbalane
her. In spite of this men should beware how they enter
the shrine at all.
Once a man went in at
night and he saw the Badariya herself, combing her
long hair—his punishment was terrible, never did he have any luck after that. But to women she is most kind and to her they pay their vows
and offer of the first and best oil (may be of the beaten oil) of the year to
be burnt in her shrine.
[108]
The lamps they use are
of baked clay, pinched up into an ancient shape, of which the guardian, an old sheikha, always has a store. The women of Artas have a high idea of her power. She can help the
crops, and should be invoked thus, "O Badariya,
give water to the plants outside" (Ya Badariya, isqi er zeriy a fi el bariye). Once they tell there was a poor woman in the
village who was persecuted by an evil man. Then she
went and laid her complaint and much henna at the shrine of the Badariya and before the year was out that evil man died.
Christians as well as Moslems visit the shrine in spite of the disapproval of
their own leaders; it is in fact forbidden to good
Catholics. Still the women will creep there at
night and touch the handle of the door if no more, and they say, "Why should
we not go into the shrine? The priests do not know as we do, that the Badariya is a relation of the Mother of Jesus."
An even stronger persistence and confusion of cults can
be found at Afka in Syria, the ancient Aphaca. There, close to the sacred cave where Adonis and
Aphrodite met, and where their sacred stream still gushes forth, grows a fig
tree all covered with rags. An old man, an inhabitant of the village near by, was asked why folk tied their troubles to that
tree, and he replied, "The women make vows here because this is the place
of Our Lady of Afka" "And who is she?"
"The shining Queen" (El meleha el Zahim). [That is the Arabic name for Venus herself!]
"But what women are they who pay their vows here at this tree, are they
Christian or Moslem?" "Christian women come here of course, and so do
Moslem women, for they also honour Our Lady of Afka,
although it is well known that she was a Christian."
How strange that this
should be said on the site of the only pagan shrine that the tolerant Constantine
felt it really necessary to destroy on account of the
immorality of the worship there.
Yet today "star
spangled Aphrodite" is still besought by the
women of Afka, although they know that she was a
Christian!
Celtis australis, L. Meis; Meiseh. Hackberry
or Nettle Tree. (Plates I, 72).
The Meis
Tree has long pointed leaves very like those of a nettle and berries
turning black when ripe; it is cultivated and also
grows wild on the coast and in the Jordan valley. No evil spirit can come near
this tree, so it is believed, and it is safe to sit
under it and enjoy its shade. The wood is also revered and is in much use for
charms among the Moslem fellahin and occasionally among the Christians too. The
commonest form seen is that hung on children, a tiny piece of the wood prettily
carved, tied to a triangular bit of alum and a blue bead. These charms can be bought ready made up in the Suq el 'Attarirn and in the shops
where Hebrcn glass is sold near the Church of the
Holy Sepulchre. Similar ones are often seen on horses in a size more suitable
to their build, a large blue glass ring, a good chunk of alum and an uncarved meis stick,
sometimes with the bark on, being tied up together. If one who does not know
the custom calls attention to such a charm, someone present is sure to shout
out:
[109]
"O he-goat, don't
you see the meis?"
(Ya
teis, ma teshuf el meis),
a verse which seems to cause general merriment, 'teis' having the same sense as the English 'donkey' or the
German 'Schaf-kopf.'
Houses, too, when newly
built are often protected by a bit of meis hung
over it with other useful things, such as egg shells, or a bulb of garlic and
the inevitable blue bead and piece of alum.
The meis wood to be realIy
effective, according to some women, should be cut on a Saturday early in the
morning, according to others it should be cut on the 27th of Ramadan
in the evening near sunset. It is less effective when it is
cut on the Saturday before sunrise and on any other day it is useless.
The old sheikhs say
that its power is always the same and the day of its cutting has no
significance.[8]
Opinions vary too as to
the value of different trees. Some swear by the wood from the great trees in
the Haram el Sherif, which are believed to descend
from some planted by Solomon.
Others wish only for that from the tree on the road to Bethlehem near Bir Kadismo, the little pool in
which it is said the Magi saw the reflection of the
Star on its reappearance. And the people of Artas bring their meis from
a tree between El Khadr and Beit Izkariye, for they
believe that the wood is better for charms when it comes from a tree that does
not hear the call to prayer, "Ma besir yisma el adân." Their
proverb runs:
"The meis that does not hear the calI to prayer protects against the Envious Soul and
against the Eye" (El meisi illi ma betisma' el adân did. el nafs w did el
'Ain).
In other parts of Palestine the charm is also known and used. People will
sometimes press the bit of wood to the mouth for a "fadl"
(benefit). A Moslem fellah in Jerash told the
following story of how the tree obtained such virtue, "There was once war
between the 'Frangi' and the Moslems and the Moslems were shut in a desert wady,
where there was no water. The Prophet was thirsty and he took a piece of meis wood and sucked
it to relieve his thirst. His followers took up sticks and pebbles and did the
same. Then the 'Frangi' saw this through their 'Nadara' (spy glasses) and
said, 'What is the use of fighting against these people? They eat wood and
stones. Let us leave them in their desert.' So they departed and since that
time the meis wood
is blessed."
In Jerusalem
the favourite stories take the blessing for granted and describe how Solomon
came to plant them round his Temple. Dr. Canaan gives
two versions of the tale and as they differ a good deal we will repeat both.
The first is as follows:
"When Solomon had
built the Temple, Kings, Angels and animals sent presents for the opening day,
but no gift came from the Jinns. Then Solomon asked
them what they would send him. Their ruler replied, 'O King and great Lord, the
Temple is the most beautiful building that the hands of men have ever built. We
think it well to give you something to protect it from the Evil Eye. But a blue bead would be lost in the greatness of the
building and in spite of it the Eye might rest upon it. So we have decided that
the best thing to do is to plant two rows of meis trees round the Temple.' "
The second version
runs: "When King David began to build the Temple his building fell down.
He prayed to God for help; then appeared to him a Jinn
and told him to give up the work for his son and successor to the Throne alone
should build the Temple. When therefore his son, King Solomon, came to the
Throne he began the building again, but again it fell down. He prayed God for
help and the same Jin appeared to him as had appeared
to his father. The Jin said to him, 'The 'evil eye'
of envious men injures the unprotected work of building. See! I give thee meis trees which must be planted round the
building.' And after the King had planted the trees he
was able to go on with the building. And the Temple of Solomon stands to this
day, because the meis
trees protect it."
Punica granatum. Rumman. Pomegranate.
The pomegranate is as all know a beautiful tree, valued for its fruit and
flowers; it is also a fortunate tree, having power against evil spirits, and
none need fear to sleep beneath its boughs. Fallen blossoms are
often threaded into a necklace and hung round the necks of children, to help
them through stomach troubles. Every pomegranate fruit is believed to
contain one seed which has come from Paradise. Sick
people, children, even babies, are given pomegranate juice to drink. It is
delicious and wholesome in itself and besides there is always the hope that the
Paradise seed may be squeezed into the lucky one's cup!
[111]
The bride is often compared to a pomegranate for her beauty,
"From whence shall
we bring you a bride my son?" (literally, a pomegranate.) (Wen min jib el rumman Min Silwan), or as
they say in verses likening her to this and other fruits:
"I love pears and
I eat pears
And the girls of Artas are
sweet, my Mother.
I love pomegranates and
I eat pomegranates
And the girls of Silwan are sweet, my Mother."
(Bahebb
el injas w akal el injas
W banat Artas helwin. ya
ammi
Bahebb el rumman
w akal el rumman
W banat Silwan helwin. ya
ammi).
But the attractiveness of the fruit has its dangers. If
an expectant mother desires one her wish should be immediately satisfied; if
she is refused, her baby will have the Eastern
equivalent for a strawberry mark, a 'pomegranate' mark upon it. O wonder! (Ya tir).
Now because the
pomegranate tree had power over evil spirits, in the days when madness was
believed to be caused by possession, and beating in vogue as a cure, a beating
with pomegranate branches was considered peculiarly efficacious. This appears
in the oft told tale of the lunatics who lost their
feet.
The poor madmen, let out for the day, went to bathe their feet in a
pool and got them so mixed that they could not sort them out. There they sat
until evening unable to get up and go home because none of them knew which feet
belonged to him. At last a wise old sheikh came by, to whom they told their
trouble.
He, bringing a pomegranate
rod, then gave each of them a good beating on his feet. Each madman
as he felt the pain knew his feet for his own and took them out of the water.
Then they all returned home together, praising God and their deliverer and the
virtues of the pomegranate tree.[9]
Zizyphus Spina Christi. Sidr; Dom: Christ-thorn.
These trees have to be treated with a certain respect; they may be the dwelling
place of some wely or less estimable kind of spirit.
P. Baldensperger tells of a group of such trecs south of Na'aneh and
another north east of 'Aqir, where strange things are to be seen and heard late on a
Thursday evening, a sound of music as from some strange instruments and lights
moving between the trees. It is the dwellers in these groves
who are paying each other visits. Many of these trees grow in the Jordan
valley, but most of them are no more than bushes and it is not till a tree has attained some size that it is likely to be
dwelt in. Woe to the man who should cut a branch from such a tree; the Wely will ruin him.
[112]
This tree bears little
round fruit, called Nabk in some parts,
but in the jordan valley, Dom;
these are loved by children, and the Beduin
collect them and dry them for future use in the winter, making a thick paste to
be used as bread. The writer quoted above also tells a most amusing description
of a fire in the Jordan valley, which burnt many sidr
bushes and passed away leaving abundance of little roast apples on the
branches, on which the Beduin children had a great
feast.
Tamarix sp. Eitl; tarfa. Tamarisk
(different varieties).
The Tamarisk has also a
measure of holiness, but it is not safe to sleep under it, nor can they be cut down with impunity. When the wind blows
through them it is distinctly heard how they call "Allah, Allah," sighing.
Ceratonia Siliqua,
L. Kharrub, St. John's Bread; Locust
Bean. Carob.
It is curious that this
tree should have such an ill reputation when it is so useful. It will grow on hillsides and waste places, and produces abundance of pods having a sweet pulp, suitable
for cattle food, and not disdained by human beings. Children will eat them raw,
but they are generally boiled down into a kind of
molasses (dibs). In spite of this the tree is
disliked, and it is thought most dangerous to sit underneath it, particularly
at night, when it may be infested with evil spirits. Once at the funeral of one
loved and respected by all in the village, some Europeans brought wreaths, in
which the fine glossy leaves of the carob had been used.
The fellahin were struck with horror at the sight and said
"Why have you put those leaves there? Do you not see the blood upon
them?" In this they alluded to the red marks on
the stalks, an ill omened sign to their ideas.
Canaan gives a story
illustrative of the dangerous kind of being who may haunt these trees. Once a
woodcutter of Ramallah, going out in the morning, was met by
a bride all decked with gold, who stepped out of a carob tree. She spoke to him
sweetly, promising him great riches if he would but cast down the axe"[10] from his shoulder
and follow her. But when he refused to answer her she
struck him across the eyes and blinded him.
[113]
II. Magical Plants
1. THE MANDRAKE
Mandragora officinarum,
L. Mandrake. Tuffah el Majanin.
Madmen's Apple. Beid
el Jinn. Eggs of the Jinn. Shija'a.
Early in the spring
the Mandrake comes up in all waste places, its purple flowers rich and dark in
the midst of bright glossy leaves. The sight of the strange plant or even the
mere mention of the name arouses interest at once, so many are the old fables of
the Mandrake, giver of sleep, love charm, a peril to the gatherer. Surely one might expect to find in Palestine, in the land
where it grows and whence it was of old exported to the credulous Northerners,
some folk tales about it, some memories of its use as drug or charm. Its
medical use seems clean forgotten, but some of the fables concerning it
survive.
As a test we
asked a woman of Artas to dig up a root for us.
She returned not long afterwards in an
agitated state with the great plant in her hands, with the root broken off just
where it had begun to fork.
"That is all I can bring
you," she cried, "I will dig no more for that plant. For while I was
digging, a man of Artas, my cousin, came to me and
said, 'What are you doing, O woman, digging up that
root? Do you not know that there is a little black man there and if you pull
him up right down to his feet you will fall ill and take to your bed?' And at that, by the mercy of God, the root broke in my hand.
Ask me no more to dig for it."
Here we have the
survival or the old tale that the Mandrake was human (an idea no doubt
suggested by the forked roots) and also of the danger to the gatherer, but the fellaha of Artas did not go on to
suggest the usual procedure of antiquity to avert the danger to oneself by
tying an animal to the root, and allowing it to give the final deadly pull.
There is an old Jewish legend of the
manner in which Reuben obtained the Mandrakes of the story in Genesis 30.
Having thoughtlessly tied his donkey
to a Mandrake plant while harvesting he returned in the evening to find the
poor beast dead, with the fatal root by its side.
Thus he was able to give the Mandrake
roots to his mother Leah, who bartered away this coveted fertility charm to
her sister Rachel, the favoured but childless one.[11]
But the more usual victim of the old
tales was a dog. According to the account given by Gerarde,
"he who would take up a plant thereof must tie a dog thereto to pull it
up, which will give a great shriek at the digging; otherwise if a man should do
it he should surely die in short space after."[12]
Stories of such victims, whether dog
or donkey, do· not seem to be known at all today among the fellahin, and men
near Jerusalem showed no reluctance, though great want of skill in attempting
to dig up other roots for us.
It really is a difficult matter to
get a root out unbroken, as we found out at a picnic party, whose members went,
armed with pick, hoe and knives, to seek for a mandrake in the valley of the
Convent of the Cross. It was a nice picnic, in spite of the cold spring
weather. But how tame our proceedings compared with
those of long ago. Even if we did scorn the cowardly substitution of a dog for
our own selves, we might at least have protected life by the charms of
Theophrastus.[13]
According to him
we should have first drawn three circles round the mandrake with a sword and
made the first cut in it with our faces to the west; at the second cutting we
should have danced round the plant, saying as many things as possible about the
mysteries of love.
Instead we fell to without much talk on any
subject, chose the smallest plant we could find and worked with extreme care
and diligence for more than two hours. At last we
succeeded in getting a root out, though even then it was broken at the tip.
But it was a fine straight tap root,
which went down for two feet and more and never forked at all. We learnt
afterwards that this is a common feature of the roots of young plants.
Roots of older, larger plants, dug up
for us by a fellah and badly broken up, were most fantastic in their shapes,
crudely suggestive of human forms, with arms and legs going off at all sorts of
impossible angles.
These changes of size in the root, a
vast bulbous 'body' giving rise to a pigmy 'arm' or 'leg,' and its brittleness
make it very difficult to avoid breaking it.
Stories current in Jerusalem that
botanists had offered £40 for an unbroken root began to appear credible as we
gazed at the mangled remains produced by half a day's labour.
The fellah himself gazed at them quite as disgustedly as we did and relieved
his feelings by cursing the mandrakes. "May their houses be burnt! They have roots that go down for metres
and then run under the rocks like snakes!"
Now if the small young roots run in a
straight 'carrot' shape, and the old ones, which show the strange human like
forms, are of such massive dimensions, what are we to make of the stories of
the "man root" worn for a charm?
In some of the tales a bit of the
root would do,[14]
in other cases, as noted by Miss Freer in Jerusalem,[15] the root
was hung ,up in the house, but more commonly the little mandrake himself was to
be carried on the person.
[114]
Imagine carrying about a root a metre long and 25 c. broad (in parts) and all the
excrescences and appurtences thereof! The sight of
the great lumpish forms at once gave point to the tales of the faking of
mandrakes for export in the past.
There was a famous
exposure of the practice in the year 1567 when the fakers who sold the roots in
Italy went a little too far in raising a crop of 'natural hairs' on the
Mandrake's head by burying grass seeds in a hole on the top and moistening
them, –rather like raising mustard and cress on a flannel – and the botanist Matthioli revealed their secret. Apparently he did not stop their
lucrative business altogether, for it was still going on as short a time ago as
1891.
Luschan,[16] writing
then, says: "To this day there are artists in the East who make a business
of carving genuine roots of mandrakes in human form... Antioch in Syria and Mersina in Cilicia particularly excel in the fabrication of
the curious talisman. Sometimes the root is just cut and
pressed while fresh, sometimes moulded and reburied.
When thus treated and dried, traces of manipulation are hard to detect. Skilful artists will turn out most natural looking
figures... So popular are the artificial mandrakes in Syria that hardly anyone
will look at the natural roots."
He also mentions their reputed
virtues; they are valuable love charms, will make the wearer invulnerable and
invisible and reveal buried treasure.
We ourselves have come across no
modern instance of the use of such charms in Palestine,[17] but we
cannot resist repeating an amusing case of survival quoted by Frazer.[18]
|
The Mandrake. Illustration from a
Herbal showing knowledge of the planet. (See Pl. 10. Paris Bib. Nat. M.S. Grec. 217 9 Dioscorides 9th
cent. Fo 105). Drawn from the photograph in
"Studies in the History and Method of Science," by kind permission
of Dr. C. Singer. Plate 74. |
The Mandrake. A fantastic rendering, far from the
land where the plant grew. (See Saxon Herbal, Sloane 1975, folio 49 a. A.D.
1000-1959). Drawn from the photograph in "The Old English Herbals"
p. 22, by kind permission of Miss Ronde.
Plate 75. |
He tells how in Chicago a man among
the Oriental Jews was childless, and some friendly Jews of Jerusalem sent him a
mandrake with their best wishes. Questioning among the community revealed that
the mandrake was believed in still here and there as a
talisman to ensure fertility and was sold for prices varying between four and
ten dollars. This also was in the year 1891!
[116]
These are but faint echoes of the
famous rumours of the past. Why was the plant so renowned both as charm and drug? We
have seen good reason far the first in the strange
shape of the root, and can understand how by sympathetic magic the "man
plant" was believed to have "powers great and strange to cause women
to be fruitful and beare children if they shall but
carry the same neere their bodies," and no doubt
the portability and human shape of the talisman was contrived as diligently by
the vendors as they enhanced its value by stupendous exaggerations of the
difficulty and dangers of obtaining it. These fables
no doubt grew as they passed from mouth to mouth from the Southern lands, where
the plant grew and was well known, such as Syria, Crete, Spain and Greece, to
Northern countries, where only the root was ever seen, and so it is that we get
that marvellous series of pictures of Mandrakes in
old herbals varying from perfectly naturalistic plants to preposterous little
human figures with limbs and faces all complete and leaves growing out of the
tops of their heads. (See illustration, p. 117).
When we turn from these fantasies to
the stories of its medical value we find ourselves on firmer ground, for the
mandrake really has powerful narcotic qualities. These are present in the
fruit, though Palestinian children eat them with delight. The scent of the
"love apples," tuffah
(apples), as they are called today, is most inviting, but the golden pulp,
though sweet, does not quite fulfil its promise. If children eat too much of
it, or if they incautiously swallow the seeds their eyes dilate and their heads
ache and worse even may befall.
We heard of one child last harvest
who was so overcome with the poison of the fruit that
he was "as mad for a day and as dead for a day," but he ultimately
slept it off and recovered.
But the narcotic principle is much more
active in the rest of the plant, particularly in the root. This quality of the
plant seems to have been discovered very early in the
world's history, and it is therefore natural that it should have been at once
both valued and dreaded. Its use goes back to the earliest known herbal, that
of the ancient Assyrians, according to Campbell Thomson.[19] He thinks
that the word Mandragora itself comes from the
Assyrian Nam-Tam-Ira., "Being changed by the merchants who brought the
word into Europe by a simple inversion of N. and M." The Assyrian word
means Plague God Plant (as one might say Devil Plant) and its use was as
"an anodyne for toothache" and in "some sickness where sleep is
concerned."
In Egypt
fruits of the mandrake were found in the Tomb of Tut Ankh Amun,
eleven of them being placed at regular intervals in the sixth row of his
Floral Collarette; as the plant is not a native of
that country, it must have been grown in some garden, probably introduced from
Syria.[20]
[118]
The "Plant of
Circe" as they called it was valued by the Greeks, and at one time Mandragoritis was used as an epithet for Aphrodite herself.
The plant figures in the list of simples given by Hippocrates, the Father of
Medicine in the 5th century, B.C., and it was classed with the
poisons by Dioscorides (second. half of 1st
cent. A.D.), who also used mandrake wine in surgical operations when an army
surgeon in the service of Nero.
It became the popular pain killer of the Middle Ages; its juice soaked the
soporific sponge of Elizabethan writers; formed part of the anaesthetic
draught used during operations by the Welsh Physicians of Mydvai,
and was an ingredient in Bacon's Cure for Insomnia, "The Sleeping
Apple," in the I6th century.
Now this Mandragora,
– and other narcotic plants known of old, poppy, henbane, belladonna, –
certainly did deaden pain, but their use
had disadvantages; as they were swallowed, not inhaled, the sleep given was not
deep enough to prevent the patient waking under operation, and, as it was very
difficult to guage their effects, they were extremely
dangerous. Still, men were thankful for the mercies of Mandragora
and its like before the coming of anaesthetics. Of
these past blessings to man, nothing is here
remembered in Palestine, only the memory of a few fables and its use as a charm
remain. These fables we have repeated with mingled amusement and compunction,
recalling wise old Gerarde's concluding adjuration on
the subject:
"All which dreams and old wives'
tales ye shall from henceforth cast out of your book and memory."
2. THE ROSE OF JERICHO.
Anastatica hierochuntina
L. Kaff el-'Adram:
"The Virgin's Hand." Plate 76.
If you pass near the Church of the
Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem and look into the shops where
hang painted candles and blue and red and gold pictures on wood after the Greek
manner, you will notice many curious wares spread out to attract the eyes of
pilgrims. Incense in several qualities, cakes of white earth from the Milk
Grotto at Bethlehem, thorns of Paliurus[21] twisted crownwise in memory of Christ's Crown of Thorns, and
baskets full of Roses of Jericho, little dry plants, root and all, with the
branches curled round into the form of a ball. Pilgrims and Crusaders no doubt
bought them hereabouts all through the Middle Ages and
here pilgrims still buy them today and carry them away to their distant homes.
If you ask why, you will be told that this is Anastatica,
the Resurrection Plant, and that pilgrims value it as a symbol of New Life,
because however dead and dry it appears it will unfold and spread out its
branches whenever it is immersed in water.
But it is not only pilgrims who buy the
plant: there are also some among the dwellers in the land who value it and
treasure it up in their houses. The local name for it is Kaff
el-'Adra, "The Virgin's Hand," and
often one may hear it spoken of as Kfefet
el-'Adra in a tone indicative of a diminutive of
endearment, as if one in the mediaeval spirit were to say "The little
hand of Our Lady."
The word Kaff
means the palm of the hand, and a reason for the name is seen
in the shape of the plant itself: when closed it is like the closed fist; when
open, like the open hand. The name also suggests that its value to the simple
folk may be of the nature of a charm, for the Kaff or
"Hand Charm" is esteemed throughout the
country as a protection against the Evil Eye. The human hand itself may be
used, as when a fellaha, threatened by
some evil not of this world, thrusts out her hand, palm foremost, and cries Khams
fi wijh el 'aduw
("five in the face of the enemy!"[22] or slaps
her henna-daubed hand on a shrine wall to seal her vows. The protective sign,
sometimes a mere daub of paint, sometimes carved in stone, may
often be seen above the doors of houses. When worn on the person the Kaff is usually made of blue glass from Hebron or of
metal.
Its use is the same to all wearers,
though the name varies: it is the "Hand of God" to the Jews,
"the Hand of Mary" to the Christians, the Hand of Fatma
to the Moslems, and some think that it was probably the Hand of Venus to the
Pagans before them.[23]
Another old name for it among the
Jews was "the Hand of Might." Similar names are used of other plant
forms suggestive of a hand; e.g., Kaff sadabie, Hand of Rue, for a sprig of rue with five
leaflets, and Kaff Qamh,
Hand of Wheat, far the pretty plaited corn baraka
because of its sprayed bunch of bearded wheat ears.
All these Kaff
charms are openly displayed and hung here and there to catch
"the Eye," but the Kaff el-'Adra is never so used. It is very difficult to
secure information about it, perhaps, as with many other old customs, its use is almost forgotten. Its real use was as a
birth-charm, and it is still occasionally stared away in houses, to be brought out in time of need. Then it is soaked in water
and held towards the woman in travail in the hope that as the plant opens, so may her delivery be hastened.
[120]
Anxiety prevails in the house, for
the birth is delayed and none knows why. The women
helping are all unnaturally quiet: no voice of anger, no curse, must be heard at this time of crisis; even the children are
hushed; even prayers and charms must be muttered under the breath. The women
believe that now heaven is opened, el sama
maftuh, and the angels are ascending and
descending, el malaik tala'u
w nazilu, asking, as they approach the open gate,
"Which shall we bring, the Mother or the Child?" Then, perhaps, in
the hour of stress, some old wise friend brings out the strange charm, soaks
the Kaff el-'Adra
in water, and says, "Wait now till it opens, then all will go well."
One woman said of its use, "The plant preaches patience." Another
said, "We hold up the plant for the woman to see, and we say:
"If God can bring life from this
dead plant shall he not much more bring life from your life?" – Ruh min ruh, a
phrase reminiscent of the old verse charm:
YiaNabi
Nuh: Itkhalli ruh min ruh
O Prophet Noah Separate life from life.
In Jerash
(Trans- Jordan) another woman told us that she only
knew of the plant as kept and used in one house there, but in Syria, her native
land, she had often seen it in her young days. "When birth is at hand and labour hard they put the plant in water and as it opens so
will the pain become less. The opening of the plant is a miracle, bi amr Allah. Also drinking the water in which the plant
has been soaked may help a speedy delivery. This is Kaff
Mariam the Blessed." "But why do you, a Moslem, call it Kaff Mariam? Is not that the name of the Christians,
while the Moslems call it Kaff Fatma?" She indignantly replied, "It is Kaff Mariam, not Kaff
Fatma! Our Lady Mary helps us just as much as she
does you – she belongs to us as much as she does to you. So it is written in
the Book."
Again, another much travelled
informant said, "I have seen the plants in Mardin,
in more than one room, hung up on the walls with crosses in between for a
protection against the Eye (did el-'Ain). Men, too, will sometimes put them in
their pockets for the same reason. I have also seen it as far off as Mosul.
Sometimes someone going on pilgrimage to Mecca will bring one back with him. In
Syria they are kept in houses, but more usually it is the midwives who have
them in stock, and this is because of the help women get of the plant by the
power of God (Qudret Allah.)"
[121]
Another Syrian friend had seen it in
Homs. "There the common use is to soak the plant and give the water to the
woman to drink. But if you want information on these matters you should go to Kerak." (She meant Kerak of
Moab, which apparently is the last home and refuge of all ancient ways of
thought.) In Algeria it is called Kaff
Lalla Fatma, and in
Egypt Kaff Fatma bint el-Nabi, (Hand of Fatma, daughter of the Prophet) and also Kaff Mariam, (Hand of Mary); it is sold in
some of the little shops near the Bab el-Zuweyla, in
Cairo, where it can be seen hanging in bunches over the door to catch the eye
of housewives going to market. Further south they are to be found at
the sellers of drugs and spices in the bazaars of Omdurman and other towns, but
not hung up in bundles, for here they are considered rarities and sold for more
than the half piastre of Cairo and Jerusalem. In the
Sudan the usual name for it is Kaff Mariam
(although those who use it are Moslems) and the manner of its use is identical
with that of Palestine, the plant being soaked in water and held up before the
woman in childbirth so that she may gaze on the presage of the unfolding plant.
Another name is
sometimes used in the Sudan for it, i.e., Shidr
el Khalas, which may be translated either "Plant
of Deliverance," or "Plant of the Placenta," and some say that
the shape of the plant when spread out suggested the latter name. If this is so
we may have here a case of sympathetic magic, after the fashion of the Doctrine
of Signatures in which the old herbalists believed,
for by the icon or image of every herb the ancients at first found out their
virtues. Or it may be merely an example of the punning common in the songs and
charms of the "'omen, as in one of the birth charms, sung both in Egypt and the Sudan:
|
Ya halla el
hullal |
O Deliverer bring delivery |
|
Ya
Gabrin khiff kum el yamin |
O Gabriel bare thy right arm
(elbow) |
|
Wa Muhammed wa
Ali |
And Mohammed and Ali |
|
Yeshuf (neshuf)
khalasha. |
They [we] see her delivery (or
placenta). |
When an Egyptian friend was asked
about the meaning of khalas here
she was content with either translation saying, "It is all the same: it
means the end of her trouble, and that is what we want to see."
In any case
the name Kaff Mariam is the more
common, while in Palestine, so far as we know, the name Shidr
el Khalas is not known at all. Curiously
enough in Palestine the plant is often said to come from the Sudan, while in
the Sudan the women are quite sure that it comes from Palestine and from the
vicinity of the Holy City itself, for, they say, "It is well known that it
only grows on land that was trodden by the foot of Our Lady Mary and watered by
her tears."
[122]
A similar belief is
recorded by Ludolph van Suchem,
a pilgrim to Palestine in the 14th century. He
says,[24] speaking
of the wilderness of Sinai: "From Mount Sinai one
journeys on towards Syria across the wilderness in thirteen days... The Virgin
Mary crossed this wilderness with the Child Jesus when she fled from before the
face of Herod, and all along the road by which she is believed to have passed
there grow dry roses which in these parts are called
"Roses of Jericho." The Bedouin gather these roses in the wilderness
and sell them to pilgrims for bread. Moreover the
Saracen women are very glad to have these roses by them. When about to be
delivered they drink the water which has been poured over the roses and declare
that they are most useful and valuable during pregnancy."
Ludolph's story about Saracen women is exactly
like the stories we hear today. Through pilgrims like him
the belief in the plant spread to Europe. We hear of it again from John
Parkinson (1640), who describes it in a Portentously
long sentence. He tells how it was called Rosa de Hiericho and Hiericontea and Rosa Marie and says:[25]
"Hoy dry soever the plant is being brought from beyond sea yet if it
be set in water for a while, it will dilate and open itself abroad that all the
inward parts may be distinctly observed how it groweth
and although the leaves are all lost yet the seeds and the vessels remain from
whence if it be freshe the seede
taken had grown, and will close up again after a while, that it is taken out of
the water, not, as the superstitious Monkes falsely fained that it did open miraclously
that night our Saviour was borne, and that it would doe so in what house soever it is
when the woman with child abiding therein shall be neere
the time of her delivery, for with moisture, as I said, it will open and not
without it."
So then to
the pilgrims of old, the strange "Rose of Mary" was both a symbol of
new life and a good omen in the house of birth. There is much
in the folk beliefs and tales about this plant that seems very strange to a
botanist. "Rose of Jericho" they call it, yet it is not a rose
and it does not grow at Jericho. We feel inclined to agree with the old
herbalist Gerarde when he says, "The coiner
spoiled the name in the mint, for of all plants that have been written of,
there is not any more unlike the rose." One can only think that the globed
form of the dried plant may have suggested the unsuitable name. In its young form it is a little cress with minute white flowers, a most
lowly herb lying prostrate on the ground. It can be found
on both eastern and western shores of the Dead Sea, but not near Jericho. Dr. Sukenik found fine specimens growing in abundance between Ghor el Safi and the Lisan,
together with Asteriscus, and G. M. Crowfoot found
plants near the mouth of the Arnon, also on the east
bank.[26]
[123]
It is said also to be found near
Masada, on the western shore of the Dead Sea, but it does not appear to be
common there, and we think (though we have no very certain information on the
point) that most of the specimens sold in Jerusalem come from Egypt, for it
grows abundantly in the desert regions there. It is also
found in sandy places in Syria, North Africa and Arabia.[27] The story
that it grew at Jericho may have been caused by some
confusion between it and a small yellow desert daisy. Astericus
pygmaeum,[28] which is occasionally cherished under the same name and which
actually does grow at Jericho. This daisy, too, has something of the same
affection for water, only in this case it is the dry
flower heads that close when dry and open when wet, not the whole plant, as
with Anastatica.
The tales and beliefs about the
"Rose of Jericho" also seem to be based on a complete misconception
that though apparently dry and dead, and blown about in the desert, the plant
lives on and would revive once more when moistened by the rain. For an extreme
example see the following quotation from a little book, written in 1852, whose
author solemnly remarks:
"In the neighbourhood
of Jericho there grows a kind of rose on the hedges called Jericho Roses, which
are very famous... These roses have this wonderful speciality
that after they have been picked years ago and are as one would think quite
faded, yet, so soon as they are put in water begin again to bloom and spread
themselves out afresh and again strike a green root in Mother Earth."[29]
That second blossoming, however, is
not for its own sake, but for the sake of the life of its seeds: the little
plant itself can strike root no more, it has but one year of life.
[124]
As Dr. Post briefly puts it, Anastatica is a "dwarf, dichotomous, prostrate
annual." The real reason for the opening and shutting which has drawn such
attention lies in a strange adaptation by means of which it triumphs over its
desert environment. When its flowering days are done and the last tiny white
petal has fallen, its branches begin to curve inwards until the whole plant is
like a ball with the seed pods inside it. Often, when
a plant becomes quite dry, the root will pull out from the soil, and ball and
roots will be blown about over the sandy wastes. What
matter? – the seed pods are tightly shut and guarded
by the clasping branches, and so they remain through the long dry months until
the winter rains set in. When moistened by the showers the "rose"
opens, the branches bend back and straighten out, and at the same time the pods
open and the seeds can readily be washed out and down into the ground. The plant spreads open when moistened because, owing to the
structure of the cell walls, the tissue on the inside of the branches can
absorb more water than that on the outside, and the same applies to the seed
pods; as this is a property of the cell walls, this closing when dry and
opening when moist will go on naturally just as long as they exist. It
seems strange to us, because in the plants with which we are most familiar the
seed vessels do just the opposite and open when they are dry. Indeed it is very rare to find any that open when wet. It is
known in some other desert plants, as in the Asteriscus
already mentioned, and in the Mesembryanthemums; but Anastatica is, so far as we know,
unique in that it is the whole plant that opens and shuts and not the seed
vessels alone. So the "Rose of Jericho" is
still a cause for wonder.
3. THE TORTOISE PLANT.
The Plant of the Tortoise. 'Aishbet
el Kurka'a.
This plant is wholly magical and
mythical, living only in folk lore, where it appears as a plant conferring on
him who finds it various powers, some say untold wealth, others the capacity to
work wonders, but always with a certain risk attached to the discovery. When
some women in Bethlehem were asked to tell what they knew about it they shook
their garments, grasping them by the opening at the breast, and said "If
we knew the secret of that plant and where it is to be found we would not tell
you, for the plant would do much harm." And this
they repeated with signs and pantomime of alarm, crying out Fear God, "Khof Allah" and "Forbidden" (Haram).
The milkman, known to be a teller of amusing tales, was next
asked, but he also said: "God forbid that we should find it."
"But why?" he was asked again, "If a man found it, would not all
he touched be turned to gold, as some say? or, as
others do, that he would obtain all he desired?" "Look you,"
said the milkman, "if a son of a fellah found this plant and just so much
as touched with it the hem of the skirt of a king's daughter, truly she would follow him and could refuse him nothing.
Why! the world would be turned upside down!"
4. THE WHITE FLOWER OF INNOCENCE
Between forty and fifty years ago there
lived in El Khadr, near Artas, a girl of happy
nature, who would laugh and talk with everyone. Now you must know that in the
village such conduct is not thought well of. A woman should walk abroad in
seemly fashion, looking down at the ground, with her head veil well pulled down
on the forehead and wrapped round over shoulders and breast, and if she has to
hold converse with any, she should not smile or show her teeth, O how shocking
it is to show the teeth! But this girl went on smiling
and showing her teeth, laughing and talking with everyone,
Then her brothers came to her and
said, "Why do you do so? We will not have it. You will
be punished if you do not behave differently," But she was so merry a
girl, she could not change her ways, and the people of the village thought the
worst of her for it, Therefore one day, her brothers slew her in their anger
and cast her body into the limekiln, saying; "This is for the honour of our family." But
they had enemies in the village who brought the matter to the ears of 'Asim Beg and he came to the village making enquiry and
saying, "I will beat you all until you tell all." That was the way in
those days.
Soon all was told
and the people went from the village to the limekiln and there found the body
of the girl. The Beg then ordered that she should be buried
properly, within the walls by the Pools of Solomon, and this was done.
Very soon afterwards, a white flower
grew from her grave as it were the flower of a gourd plant climbing upwards,
and some of the people passing by saw it. "Ashka
el khabbar – all is now plain" they cried,
'''Look at the white flower, what have we done? She is innocent." Then
they made haste and called others from the village and all who saw the white
flower knew that the girl was innocent.
This is the story told by the women of Artas
and they show her grave to this day.[30]