THE VICTORIAN LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS
"Florigraphy" flourished in England in the 19th century
and many flower dictionaries were published. As far as we know, the
lists of meanings began in Turkey, were brought to France, and then
to England and America. In France, a Mme Charlotte de la Tour, a nom
de plume for Louise Corlambert, published one in Paris in 1818. There
were eighteen editions in France and they were pirated in America and
Spain.
These dictionaries were first mentioned and then popularized in England
by Lady Mary Wortley Montague. She lived in Constantinople and wrote
letters home which were published in 1763, after her death. Unlike the
prudish Victorians, Lady Mary adopted the Middle Eastern language of
flowers to express decidedly carnal desires. She wrote a friend at home
in 1717 a Turkish love letter—the English of which is expressed
by a pearl, a jonquil and a rose. The meaning is, "Fairest of
the young/Have pity on my passion!…May you be pleased, and your
sorrows mine." Lady Mary inspired the publication of many such
dictionaries in England. The heyday of these books in England began
in the days of George IV (the late 1700s and early 1800s) and ran through
the 1840s, just after Victoria came to the throne. Americans lagged
behind a bit, which is why I called the language "Victorian."
While the English nouveaux riche had the money to express themselves,
they hadn’t the education. Hypocrisy could cloak some of the earthier
sentiments. Flower language filled a need for them—one could say
anything to a lover in the hopes that one’s spouse was ignorant
of the language. There is a tale of a Frenchwoman whose husband understood
the meaning of the flowers which his wife sent to her lover, and who
then tried to drown her in the Seine. We don’t know which flowers
she sent, but in the springtime they could have been fleur-de-lis, jonquil,
and bay leaf—meaning, "Flame, I burn, I deserve a return
of affection and I change but in death." Rescued by the lover,
the two escaped and ran away to live happily ever after. One can imagine
the influence of such stories in a more reticent age before sexual openness
and radio and television.
One problem with the dictionaries is that no two books agreed on the
meanings! There exist a handful of flowers whose meanings have remained
the same from at least Shakespeare’s time. And there is evidence
that flowers had meaning in Tutankhamen’s time in Egypt. A few
that we all know are red rose for love, rosemary for remembrance, narcissus
for egotism, and orange flower for chastity (which, of course, explains
its use by brides). But for the vast majority of flowers, plants, and
herbs, the meanings varied according to the author, probably relying
on local usage. The language was a code and both sender and receiver
needed the same code book in order for the meaning to be interpretable.
Heaven help the sweethearts working from different codes!
The Victorians, unlike Lade Mary Wortley Montague and her contemporaries,
cultivated gentility. So the majority of the messages sent and received
by bouquet, tussy mussy, or wreath were the sweet vaporings of the young
and inexperienced or the romantic, as in white clover for "Think
of me", coreopsis for "Always cheerful", and garden
ranunculus for "You are rich in attractions."
In reading through the meanings, I was reminded that death and disease
were ever present in Victorian life, before modern medicine. And so
we find such meanings as anemone for sickness/expectations, asphodel
for "My regrets follow you to the grave", deep red carnation
for "Alas for my poor heart", harebell for submission/grief,
weeping willow for mourning, and thrift for sympathy.
Fade, Flow’rs! Fade, Nature will have it so;
‘Tis but what we must in our autumn do!
And as your leaves lie quiet on the ground,
The loss alone by those that lov’d them found,
So in the grave shall we as quiet lie,
Miss’d by some few that lov’d our company;
But some so like to thorns and nettles live,
That none for them can, when they perish grieve.
Edmund Waller