When Falstaff calls upon the sky to rain potatoes in The Merry Wives of Windsor, he highlights the belief that the exotic vegetable, recently introduced to England from the Americas, was an aphrodisiac. In Romeo and Juliet, Lady Capulet calls for quinces to make pies for the marriage feast, knowing that the fragrant fruit was connected with weddings and fertility. Shakespeare’s contemporaries would have been familiar with such ripe symbolism in part due to herbals, tomes filled with detailed botanical descriptions consulted to deepen knowledge of the plants of the day.
A Shakespearean Botanical follows in the tradition of the medieval and Renaissance herbal, touring the Bard’s remarkable knowledge of the fruits, vegetables, herbs, and flowers of Tudor and Jacobean England through fifty quotations from his plays and verse poems. Each of the entries is beautifully illustrated with hand-colored renderings from the work of Shakespeare’s contemporary, herbalist John Gerard, making an appropriate pairing with his writing, along with a brief text setting the quotation within the context of the medicine, cooking, and gardening of the time.
The book’s many beautifully reproduced images are a pleasure to look at, and Margaret Willes’s well-chosen quotations and expert knowledge of Shakespeare’s England provide readers with a fascinating insight into daily life. The book will make an inspiring addition to the Shakespeare lover’s bookshelf, as well as capitvate anyone with a passion for plants or botanical art.
Margaret Willes studied modern history and architectural history at Lady Margaret Hall, Oxford. She was an editor at three London publishing houses before becoming the Publisher at the National Trust, where she began the Trust's own book imprint. In addition to producing the list that included many illustrated books, she also acted as the author of works such as Memories of Childhood (1997) and Scenes from Georgian Life (2001).
Well I bolted through this book rather quickly. A very enjoyable and informative book with great period illustrations. Perfect for people interested in Shakespeare, botany, or both.
What Am I Reading 26 – A Shakespearean Botanical - by Margaret Willes
This book, published by the Bodleian Library, University of Oxford, was a birthday present to me from Morten Siggaard. It is genuinely a book to get your teeth into. The best introduction is to quote from the back cover: “Falstaff calls upon the sky to rain potatoes believing the exotic vegetable, recently brought back from the Americas, to be an aphrodisiac. Lady Capulet orders quince pies for Juliet’s marriage feast with an eye to aiding fertility. This book marries the beauty of Shakespeare’s lines with exquisite illustrations from John Gerard’s herbal of 1597, providing an intriguing and original focus on medicine, folklore and gardening in Tudor and Jacobean England.” Wow, what a mouthful of delights. I went to the Bodleian when I visited Oxford for the day, in torrential rain, in I think 2017 when I accompanied Seth. My purpose was specifically to see a Turner of a bridge over the Calder. But there were many more delights. That was back in the days when I could still negotiate a museum unaccompanied. It was informative and fun, and Seth met me for luncheon, and we went to a Côte, and I demonstrate my lack of venturing out since 2014 in that I’d only been to the one in Highgate before. Knowing the current restaurant scene is knowledge that is fast fading. Oh, and by the by, a gift of John Gerard’s The Herball or Generall Historie of Plantes 1597 was an early donation to the Bodleian Library. Now, there is no real short cut to reading this excellent book for yourself, you can dip and glide, it is always edifying. The various quotes from the plays are sufficient reason to read the book. So, not a book to quote from so much as one that stimulates my commentary and passing on of information. “We have to remember that until the arrival of exotic flowers from different parts of the world, such as South America, the Far East and the southern part of Africa, there were few flowers in the garden beyond midsummer. Those that were available, such as carnations, were called gillyflowers or July flowers.” Pg5 And always bear in mind that this is a pretty book, pleasing to the eye, where picturesque may seem too fey, as in other worldly, this is a book I genuinely enjoy holding and turning the pages, with the beauty of both words and images. One of the best introductions to Shakespeare’s writing I can imagine. People who seek sensuality but find Shakespeare a difficult read or listen, should start here. The book opens up vistas and explains. That is as much as anybody can ask. “Shakespeare and [John] Gerard [author of The Herball or Generall Historie of Plantes 1597] were writing at a time when book publishing in English was burgeoning. The market, especially in London, was increasing with the growth in the middle classes, who had money, some literacy and an appetite for information.” Pg23 A common thread between Shakespeare and Gerard, was provided by William Cecil, Lord Burghley, Chief Minister to Elizabeth I and her notorious spymaster, as Gerard worked in his various gardens, and Shakespeare wrote for the Court. Margaret Willes is deeply researched, informative and amusing. In commenting that gardeners writing in English would often cite Latin titles by way of adding gravitas, she draws our attention to “John Parkinson’s Paradisi in Sole, a pun on his name ‘park in sun’ published in 1629.” Pg25 The provision of advice rings loud and is a very clear precursor of the BBC Radio series, The Archers, staple listening of mine when young for the hour long compendium edition on a Sunday morning, all designed around telling farmers when to plant, sow and harvest, started in May 1950 with five pilot episodes, and the main launch on New Year’s Day 1951, on the BBC Home Service and with 20,366 episodes to date, now broadcast on Radio 4. It was originally produced in collaboration with The Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries and used to disseminate information to small holders and farmers with the aim of increasing agricultural productivity in a time of rationing, when food shortages were real. Anyways, let’s return to Elizabethan times. “In Marche and in Aprill, from morning to night: In sowing and setting, good housewives delight. ``To have in their garden, or some other plot: To trim up their house, and to furnish their pot.” Pg27 Margaret Willes is quick to point out that having women as the focal point was rare. The rhyming was to encourage memory, like songs, when reading and writing was limited. Most of the herbal and gardening books were aimed at men, and wealthy men to boot. My Mum, Millie, was always quick to point out that even after being given the vote in 1918 it only applied to spinsters who owned land and were over 30 years of age. The property of married women was held by the husband. No fun there then. Easy to give the vote when it didn’t apply to most people. Social norms have always been conservative. Printed cookery books also made an entrance. “In the sixteenth century, dinner consisted of two courses, the dishes for each of those laid out together on the table, in the style still adopted in Chinese meals. For special occasions in wealthy households a third course, the banquet, might be served, either at the table or in a separate room or even a separate building, a banqueting house set in the garden. The dishes for the banquet were usually very sweet, served with dessert wine. When Titania commands her fairies to serve Bottom the weaver with exotic fruits such as apricots, figs and mulberries in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, she is indulging him with ‘banqueting stuffe’. In Romeo and Juliet, when Lady Capulet is sorting out the dishes for her daughter’s wedding banquet, she tells the Nurse to get spices, dates and quinces to be baked in a pie.” Pg28 We can see from these instructions that raw fruit was little favoured. Tarts and marmalade came into favour. “Apples and pears in particular were the subject of much concern, and were therefore baked long and hard in pastry cases, known as coffins, with sugar spices and saffron added.” Pg30 “At a time when refrigeration and international imports were undreamt-of, the ripening times and lasting qualities of fruit were key. Shakespeare alludes to this when he has Sir John Falstaff compare himself to a withered apple-john, a partially desiccated apple that could last through the winter and beyond.” Pg36 On the subject of smaller gardens, Margaret Willes emphasises their practical nature. “All the needs of the household could be catered for: fruit and vegetables for the kitchen; herbs for the medicine chest; plants for dyeing, strewing and brewing; and flowers to decorate the house.” Pg37 The flowers could be fresh and dried to spread through the year. “Shakespeare’s botanical references are not mere literary devices; they take us to the very heart of social life in Elizabethan and Jacobean England.” Pg37 Practicality rules. We now move on to the plants and a dash of Henry IV Part 2 where Aconite is mentioned, a virulent fast acting poison with side effects of nausea, vomiting, breathing problems, heart problems and death. Scary stuff and it grows in your garden, with the scarier name of wolfsbane. “He [John Gerard] made clear the danger that these ‘faire and goodly blew flowers’ make, for they are ‘so beautiful that a man would thinke they were of some excellent virtue, but Non est semper fides habenda fronti’. In other words, forget the beguiling attractions of the flowers, for if you take monkshood [Aconite] it kills you.” Pg41/42 “It is almost certainly wolfsbane that Romeo takes to kill himself in Romeo and Juliet.” Pg42 Shakespeare and books aim to prevent inadvertent suffering, but they are also an education to the would-be murderer. Yikes! That was an interesting salad with an unusual bite, methinks. Gerard quotes an accidental serving in a salad in Antwerp. “All that did eat thereof, were presently taken with most cruell symptoms and so died. The lips and tongue would swell, eyes bulge, thighs stiffen, and their witts were taken from them.” Pg42 Strike that one from the cookery book. Next, we move on to the apple. I always thought the French had it right with Pomme and Pomme de terre for the potato. Two items with a common name and varied usage in the kitchen. Each a delight and cheap to boot. Now, Margaret Willes plays to my preferences with an illustration of The Pome Water Tree with a large juicy fruit. “The Latin name Gerard gave for the pomewater was Malus carbonaria, suggesting that it was good roasted.” Pg44 *** Now, my attentive readers will know that I like pomes. I am reminded of my What Am I Reading 11 on Ulysses. I quote: “Firstly, a question: why do I write Pomes and not Poems? It’s sort of an affectation, but one of long-standing. I used to tell people that it was the way it rolled off the tongue growing up in West Yorkshire, and Pomes was what we said and what they became. Think saying po-ems and the e slowly being elided, and there you have it, but we kept the e, transposed and silent, pomes, pomes, pomes. That’s it! That’s pretty much the case, the facts of the matter. But there was an inspiration. Who else? In the current context? You guessed. James Joyce. I recall the excitement when discovering that Pomes Penyeach is a collection of thirteen short pomes written by James Joyce. They were written between 1904 and 1924 and published by Sylvia Beach’s Shakespeare and Company in Paris on 7th July 1924. They were sold for one shilling written as 12d, the old twelve pennies, or 12 (very old) French Francs, and the title combined “poems” and “pommes” (French for apples regularly sold for 1 Franc each) to create “pomes” which sold for a penny each, hence Pomes Penyeach, and a further twist, in buying the book you got the baker’s dozen, thirteen. My dad was a baker and the story, when I first heard it, appealed. In my book, that was more than enough reasons for poems to be pomes, and so they remain.” We proceed. “The connection between a fruitful orchard and an ordered family was often made in the sixteenth century, with husbandry books advising that the cultivation of fruit was an appropriate occupation for gentleman. Here [in Richard II] Shakespeare provides the analogy between an unkempt garden and a kingdom in disarray, with Richard overthrown by his cousin Bolingbroke, in order to restore peace and prosperity and to eradicate the King’s flatterers. The ‘caterpillars’.” Pg46 We’ve passed by apricots and cabbages but linger on Camomile, now a favourite drink of mine. Margaret Willes has an appropriate quote from Falstaff to Prince Hal in Henty IV Part 1. “For though the camomile, the more it is trodden on the faster it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted, the sooner it wears.” Pg55 No wonder Shakespeare endures for the truth flutters down through the ages. I’m also minded of The Camomile Lawn by Mary Wesley published in 1984 a coming-of-age book via the travails of war. I always liked Mary Wesley’s writing, not least for having a history, probably MI5, and her first book was only published when she was seventy. There’s hope yet. And on to the carnation, the favoured buttonhole flower. “When living in London in the 1590s, Shakespeare may well have made the acquaintance of the silk weavers of Shoreditch, Huguenot refugees from the Low Countries, whose passion was for breeding up certain kinds of plants such as tulips and carnations. These gardeners, later to be known as florists, particularly appreciated multicolours and strong markings in their flowers, such as streaks and flames. But care had to be taken how to explain these phenomena.” Pg58 Well, why? Think about the problem with images in the Muslim world. Here, nobody wanted to be “accused of tampering with God’s work.” Pg60 From 1634 to 1637 tulip mania was to rage with a burst market bubble. No different from tech bubbles at the end of the twentieth century. And now I alight on Crab Apples. A favourite of mine when scrumping as a child, although the uncooked fruit was too sour for my taste and the scaled walls too high for my young limbs, resulting in several a-banged head and blackouts. But I survived. “When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,” from Love’s Labour’s Lost, when “Winter opens with the famous line ‘When icicles hang by the well.’” Pg70 “Raw crab apples are inedible [although it didn’t stop acts of bravura from The Black Hand Gang] but in the sixteenth century they were roasted in the hot coals of the open fire, then mashed and added to liquor to make a hot drink, lamb’s wool, often served as a wassail bowl in midwinter.” Pg70 By the by, the purpose of the wassail, beyond telling tall tales and drinking alcohol, is to encourage the spirits to provide a good harvest in the coming months after winter. *** Afore being famed by Wordsworth, Perdita in The Winter’s Tale: “daffodils, that come before the swallow dares, and take the winds of March with beauty.” Pg76 A harbinger of spring. “one theory about the name is that it is derived from the Old English affodyle, meaning ‘that which comes early.’” Pg76. Continuing along the theme of death mongers, and ignoring the beautiful daisy, we come to deadly nightshade, used by Juliet to feign death, the belladonna wrought havoc, not least forcing Romeo’s hand to wolfsbane for true death. “The name belladonna was derived from the Italian for ‘beautiful woman’ because it was the custom of women to use the herb for eyedrops to dilate the pupils, and make them appear more seductive.” Pg84 Such is the fickle finger of fate that the nearer to danger, the higher the emotion. The ruling passion be what it will, the ruling passion conquers reason still. (Alexander Pope) The fig: “The fig bookends the tragedy of Anthony and Cleopatra. Charmian, one of the Queen’s attendants, introduces the fruit in the first act, while Cleopatra ends her life with the bite of an asp, brought to her in a basket of figs.” Pg89 “… the vulgar word in Italian for the vagina” Pg89 Decidedly sumptuous and a joy with the salty flavours of Prosciutto di Parma. “The gooseberry is a native of the north of England, and it may be that Shakespeare was making the point [Falstaff defending the accusation of leading Prince Hal astray in Henry IV Part 2] that it was not considered as worthy as more exotic fruits, just as prophets are often little valued in their own country.” Pg92 Honeysuckle was used in arbours, spots of tranquillity and secrecy in gardens. “… bid her steal into the pleached bower where honeysuckles, ripened by the sun, forbid the sun to enter …” Hero in Much Ado About Nothing. The lily: “to gild refined gold, to paint the lily, to throw a perfume on the violet, … is wasteful and ridiculous excess.” Salisbury speaking in King John. Pg108 “King John has just held his second coronation, which may have brought him satisfaction, but his nobles feel that it is a superfluous act, hence Lord Salisbury’s point. The text has become conflated, so that we now talk of gilding the lily for an unnecessary act or description.” Pg108 Moving more rapidly now, at the cost of missing out on some grand delights, like parsley, which you’ll have to read for yoursen, we arrive at the poppy. “The narcotic properties of the opium poppy, Papaver somniferum, have been known for thousands of years. … This poppy made its way to England from Southern Europe in the Middle Ages, but its popularity as a garden flower did not come until double-flowered forms were introduced from Constantinople in the sixteenth century.” Pg141 In The Merry Wives of Windsor Sir John Falstaff awaiting a romantic assignation says, “Let the sky rain potatoes …” Pg144 Back to where we started. “The Virginia potato (Solanum tuberosum) in fact came originally from Peru, brought to Europe by Spanish sailors in the 1530s or 1540s. Much as I like potatoes and their varied manners of cooking, as aphrodisiac they may be left wanting. Ah, well! I am left with the comment that it is the company that engenders the aphrodisiac. Coming from hard by the Rhubarb Triangle Wakefield, Bradford, Leeds I briefly taught history and after recounting the British selling opium to the Chinese in the 19th century, I would say that the Chinese sought their revenge in smashing the rhubarb crop, leaving the heathen English with severe constipation. It is out of such stories that history is made. Macbeth says, “What rhubarb, cyme, or what purgative drug would scour these English hence?” Pg156 Strangely enough, given my above tale, John Gerard “noted that the best came from China, ‘fresh and newe, of a light purplish red, with certain vaines and braunvhes.’It was brought westwards along the Silk Road, together with other precious commodities.” Pg158/159 Rhubarb was expensive and known as “the life of the liver.” Pg158 I’ll drink to that. And here ends my review, with one last digression. The herbal books referenced herein slowly give way to Cookery Books and I think on Mrs Beeton, Isabella Mary Beeton, her first book, Mrs Beeton’s Book of Household Management, published in 1861 and collected by an old friend of mine, there are many copies as she sold over 60,000 in the first year. And how did she get published: she’d married the publisher! Plus ça change! The sad news, she died in 1865 at the age of twenty-eight. I always thought of her as so much older, giving her the wisdom of age. ***** Calder Tsk 13th August 2024
How many times have we read Shakespeare and gone he knew his stuff too well! Which is the major reason behind the long standing debate of Mr. William's actual identity and authorship of his plays.
This book is aptly described as a marriage between the beautiful words of the Bard and the illustrations of John Gerard's herbals of 1597. Gerard was a good friend of the Bard and Sweet William the flower most probably was named after Shakespeare, by John.
It's meant to be a light read for people who love Shakespeare and want to read something more, and an educational insight for botany enthusiasts. But the research that went behind is commendable, to pick out lines about herbs and flowers from his not so popular and popular plays, poetry and sonnets, then finding out their original sources the Bard nicked from, and then explaining the social, class, and plot significance, and where the plants came from, is amazing.
Carrots and any root based plants were food of the lowest class. The herb quinces helped in conceiving. The flowers and herbs Ophelia wanted to sew in her crown all had a meaning! And the herbs that went into the human pie in Titus Andronicus were foreshadowing treachery! When Lady Macbeth dies the herbs Macbeth seeks were known for numbing qualities. There is lot of layering and metaphorical and allegorical play of text as well, sometimes Shakespeare uses a flower that signify death in Greek mythology as tool of foreshadowing. Sometimes plants were used in sexual context and other moments to indicate the nature of a character! Potatoes were seen as aphrodisiac and were imported and pears often represented the male human's sexual parts.
Author did a wonderful job at explaining the changing nature of kitchen history, how recipe books were source of information and a personal garden was an example of knowledge and learning. Some of the mentioned plants and herbs and vegetables were imported and only available to the royalty. How did Shakespeare learn about them? The author digs out the numerous relationships the bard had with from different classes of society. Gerard himself was once a tender and florist and researcher for James I.
It's a lovely book to hold and laze around with. The illustrations are so beautiful, the paper quality and the binding and the typesetting makes my heart ache in happiness. I don't want to return it!
While the introduction to this book was fantastic, and I love the inclusion of the illustrations found in Gerard's botanical, my main issue with the book is that Willes doesn't have a list of each Shakespeare play that has a mention of the plant she discusses. Instead, she begins with a quote (seemingly at random) from one of the plays, but doesn't mention if that is the only reference, or if there are others she is omitting.
I know a similar book was released in 2017 by a different author that DOES include every reference, and I will be referring to that selection once I can get my hands on it. Unfortunately, however, my library only had this book. That being said, I'd still consider reading it, even if just for the introduction and pictures alone.
A quick, easy read linking botany and Shakespeare with fascinating facts and quotes. I purchased a copy in the gift shop of the Oxford Botanical Gardens (a must-see if you’re ever in the area) and finished it the next day. The pictures are beautiful, and each plant is given a similar amount of attention, perhaps one or two pages on average. Overall a very insightful book that I wholly enjoyed.