August 27, 2026
ELM
The ancients had a tradition that, at the first sound of the plaintive strains which proceeded from the lyre of Orpheus, when he was lamenting the death of Eurydice, there sprang up a forest of Elms; and it was beneath an Elm that the Thracian bard sought repose after his unavailing expedition to the infernal regions to recover his lost love. Rapin thus tells the tale:—
The “wedding of the Elm to the Vine,” alluded to in the above lines, was a very favourite topic among the old Roman poets; Virgil, indeed, selects the junction of the Elm and the Vine as the subject of one whole book of his ‘Georgics.’ The ancients twined their Vines round the trunks of the Elm; and the owner of a Vineyard tended his Elms as carefully as his Vines.
When Achilles killed the father of Andromache, he erected in his honour a tomb, around which nymphs came and planted Elms.
Perhaps on account of its longevity, or because it produces no fruit, the Greeks and Romans considered the Elm a funereal tree: in our own times, it is connected with burials, inasmuch as coffins are generally made of its wood.
The ancients called the Elm, the tree of Oneiros, or of Morpheus, the god of sleep. As a widespreading shady tree, it is selected by Virgil (Æn. vi.) as the roosting-place of dreams in gloomy Orcus:—
It was in connection with the title of Tree of Dreams (Ulmus Somnorum), that the Elm became, like the Oak, a prophetic tree.
On the Continent, an Elm is often found on the village-green, beneath whose boughs justice used formerly to be administered, and meetings held: there was one at Gisors, on the frontier of Normandy, where the kings of France and Dukes of Normandy used to hold conference together, and which was large enough to shelter both their trains; this tree was upwards of two hundred years old when cut down by order of King Philippe Auguste, out of hatred to our Plantagenet kings. One of the oldest Elms in England is a stump at Richmond, now fenced in, and covered with Ivy, which was planted by Queen Elizabeth herself, and has on that account always been known as the Queen’s Elm.
Formerly the leafing of the Elm was made to regulate both field and garden work, as seen in the following rustic rhyme:—
In olden times, the falling of the leaves of an Elm was thought to prognosticate a murrain. In Sicily, they have a custom of binding the trunk of a Fig-tree with branches of Elm, from a belief that they would prevent the young Figs from falling before they became thoroughly ripe.
The Elm is held to be under the influence of Saturn.
“The Seven Sisters” was the name bestowed on seven Elm-trees at Tottenham, which gave the name to the road from thence to Upper Holloway. In Bedwell’s History of Tottenham, written in the year 1631, he describes Page Green by the side of the high road at that village, and a group of Elms in a circle, with a Walnut in the centre. He says: “This tree hath this many yeares stod there, and it is observed yearely to live and beare leavs, and yet to stand at a stay, that is, to growe neither greater or higher. This people do commonly tell the reason to bee, for that there was one burnt upon that place for the profession of the Gospell.” There was also a connecting link between the Walnut-tree and the Seven Sisters, by which it was surrounded. There were seven Elms planted by seven sisters respectively. The tree planted by the smallest of the sisters was always irregular and stunted in growth. There was an eighth sister who planted an Elm in the midst of the other seven, and the legend relates that it withered and died when she died, and that then a Walnut-tree grew in its place. The Walnut-tree has long since gone, and probably the Elms have now disappeared.