July 10, 2026
LAUREL
Daphne, daughter of Peneus and the goddess Terra, inspired Apollo with a consuming passion. Daphne, however, received with distrust and horror the addresses of the god, and fled from his advances. Pursued by Apollo, she adjured the water-gods to change her form, and, according to Ovid—
The classical Laurel, known as the “Royal,” or “Augustan,” was the Sweet Bay, or Daphne (Laurus nobilis). Formerly the Bay-tree was called Laurel, and the fruit only named Bayes, a word derived from the French baie, a berry. By the Greeks and Romans the tree was considered sacred. The Romans decorated with Laurel the gods Apollo and Bacchus, the goddesses Libertas and Salus, Æsculapius, Hercules, &c. The victors of the Pythian games, held to commemorate Apollo’s triumph over the Pythons, wore crowns of Laurel, Palm, or Beech. Paris (called in Homer, Alexander) was crowned with Alexandrian Laurel (Ruscus racemosus), as victor in the public games, whence its names in Apuleius, Daphne Alexandrina and Stephane Alexandrina. Of all the honours decreed to Cæsar by the Senate, he is said to have valued most the privilege of wearing a crown of Alexandrian Laurel, because it covered his baldness, which was reckoned a deformity among the Romans as well as among the Jews. This is the Laurel generally depicted on busts, coins, &c. The palace gates of the Cæsars, and the high pontiffs were decorated with Laurel. Victorious Roman generals sent their letters and dispatches to the Senate enclosed in Laurel-leaves. The letter announcing the victory was called literæ laureatæ, and its bearer carried a branch of Laurel, which was placed in the breast of Jupiter Optimus Maximus. The soldiers’ spears, tents, ships, &c., were all dressed up with Laurel, and in the triumph each soldier carried a branch in his hand. According to Plutarch, Scipio entered Carthage, holding in one hand a sceptre and in the other a branch of Laurel. Sophocles relates how Œdipus, seeing Creon arrive crowned with Laurel, believed that he brought good news. The goddess Victoria is represented as crowned with Laurel, and bearing the branch of a Palm-tree. According to Hesiod, the Muses hold Laurel in their hands.
The prophetess Manto, a daughter of the prophet Tiresias, was sometimes called Daphne (Laurel).
The bough of a Laurel was considered to give to prophets the faculty of seeing that which was hidden. Dionysius calls the Laurel the prophetical plant; and Claudian, venturi præscia Laurus. Fulgentius states, that a Laurel-leaf placed beneath the pillow will cause coming events to be foreseen in a dream; thereby greatly assisting the prediction of future events. Diviners, like the priests of Apollo, wore Laurel wreaths, and Laurel was used in the composition of incense. Evelyn relates that the Laurel and Agnus Castus were reputed to be “trees which greatly composed the ‘phansy,’ and did facilitate true visions; and that the first was especially efficacious to inspire a poetical fury. Such a tradition there goes of Rebekah, the wife of Isaac, in imitation of her father-in-law. The instance is recited out of an ancient ecclesiastical history, by Abulensis.” From hence, Evelyn thinks the Delphic Tripos, the Dodonean Oracle in Epirus, and others of a similar nature, took their origin. The Pythia, or priestess of Apollo, at Delphi, before delivering the oracles from the sacred tripod, shook a Laurel-tree and sometimes chewed the leaves with which she crowned herself, casting them afterwards into the sacred fire. The temple of Apollo at Delphi, where the celebrated oracles were delivered, was at first only a structure of Laurel-branches, which enclosed a fissure in the earth, from which a stupefying exhalation arose. Over the fissure was placed a tripod, on which the Pythia or prophetess sat, and, becoming excited by the ascending vapour, she fell into an ecstacy, and prophesied. After a temple of stone had been constructed, the Pythia prophesied in an inner and secluded cell, the only opening to which, accessible to questioners, was covered with Laurel-leaves. The Laurel being sacred to Apollo as well as to Æsculapius, was used in the temples of both these divinities, partly to induce sleep and dreams, partly to produce beneficial effects in various diseases. Whosoever wished to ask counsel was bound to appear before the altar crowned with Laurel-twigs and chewing Laurel-leaves. Every ninth year, a bower, composed of Laurel-branches, was erected in the forecourt of the temple at Delphi.
The Bœotian fêtes, held every ninth year at Thebes in honour of Apollo, were designated Daphnephoria. On these occasions, an Olive-bough, adorned with Laurel, was carried by a beautiful and illustrious youth, dedicated to the service of Apollo, and who was called Daphnephoros (Laurel-bearer). The origin of the Daphnephoria was as follows:—The Ætolians had invaded Bœotia, but both invaders and defenders suspended hostilities to celebrate the festival of Apollo, and having cut down Laurel-boughs from Mount Helicon, they walked in procession in honour of the divinity: that same day the Bœotian general, Polemates, dreamed that a youth presented him with a suit of armour, and commanded the Bœotians to offer prayers to Apollo, and to walk in procession, with Laurel-boughs in their hands, every ninth year. Three days later, Polemates defeated the invaders, and immediately instituted the Festival of Daphnephoria.
The Laurel formerly had the power ascribed to it of being a safeguard against lightning, of which Tiberius was very fearful, and in order to avoid which he is stated to have crept under his bed and protected his head with Laurel-leaves. In Sicily, it has long been popularly believed that the shrub is a protection from thunder and lightning. The same superstition survived till recently in our own country. W. Browne tells us that “Baies being the material of poets’ ghirlands, are supposed not subject to any hurt of Jupiter’s thunder-bolts, as other trees are.” Culpeper alludes to the old belief that neither witch nor devil, thunder nor lightning, will hurt a man where a Bay-tree is; and remarks further, that Laurels resist “witchcraft very potently, as also all the evils old Saturn can do the body of man, and they are not a few. The berries are very effectual against all poisons of venomous creatures, as also against the pestilence and other infectious diseases.”
The decay of the Bay-tree, which is generally rapid, was formerly considered as an omen of disaster. It is said that before the death of Nero, though in a very mild winter, all these trees withered to the root, and a great pestilence in Padua is reputed to have been preceded by the same phenomenon. So great a reputation had the Laurel for clearing the air and resisting contagion, that the Emperor Claudius was advised by his physicians during a raging pestilence to remove his court to Laurentum. That city, in the reign of Latinus, was the capital of Latium, whose inhabitants were called Laurentini from the great number of Laurels which flourished in their country. King Latinus discovered one of unusual size and beauty when about to build a temple to Apollo, and the tree was consecrated to the god, and preserved with religious care.
The Laurel had the reputation of being generally propitious to man. At Rome, on the 15th of May, merchants used to celebrate a festival in honour of Mercury, and proceeding to a public fountain, they drew water wherein they dipped a Laurel-branch, which they then employed to bless all their merchandise. The Laurus (Bay) was held in high esteem by the old Greek physicians; and among the people there existed a belief that spirits could be banished by its means. The Greeks had a saying, “I carry a branch of Laurel,” to indicate that the speaker had no fear of poison or sorcery. They had a custom of affixing a Laurel-bough over the doorway, in the case of a severe illness, in order to avert death and drive away evil spirits. Presumably from these associations, it became the fashion to crown young doctors of physic with Laurel-berries (Bacca Lauri), and the students were called Baccalaureats, Bay-laureats, or Bachelors. Theophrastus tells us that in his time the superstitious kept Bay-leaves in their mouths all day, to guard them from misfortune. Theocritus says that young girls were wont to burn Laurel as a charm to recall errant lovers. The Bolognese use Laurel to obtain an augury of the harvest: they put Laurel-leaves in the fire, and if in burning they crackle, it is a sign that the harvest will be good; if not, it will be bad. Tibullus chronicles a similar superstition in his time.
In the days of Pliny, there still existed on Mount Aventine a plantation of Laurels, of which the branches were employed for expiations. On the other hand, there grew on the shores of the Euxine a Laurel bearing a sinister reputation, close to where Amycus, the son of Neptune, was killed and buried. The Argonauts, when passing there, broke off a branch of this Laurel, and they immediately began to quarrel among themselves: the quarrel ceased, however, directly the branch was thrown away.
Petrarch made the Laurel the constant theme of his verse, associating it with the name of his beloved mistress, Laura; and when publicly crowned in the Roman Capitol with a wreath of Laurel, the poet acknowledged himself to have experienced the greatest delight.
Sir Thomas Browne refers to a custom common in Christian countries of throwing a sprig of Bay upon the coffin when interred. In England, it has long been used, together with Holly, Rosemary, &c., to decorate houses and churches at Christmas. In Greece, on Holy Saturday, they spread Laurel-leaves on the church floor. In Corsica, they deck with Laurel-leaves the doorway of the house where a wedding is being celebrated.
To dream of a Laurel-bush is a token of victory and pleasure. If the dreamer is married it denotes an inheritance through the wife. If a married woman dreams of seeing or smelling Laurel, it is a sign that she shall bear children; if a maid, it denotes that she will be suddenly married. Astrologers consider the Laurel a tree of the Sun, under the celestial sign Leo.
The Roumanians have a legend that there was once a nymph, known as the Daughter of the Laurel, who dwelt in the midst of a Laurel-bush. One evening the Laurel had opened its branches that she might, as was her wont, issue forth and dance in the flowery valley. Whilst tripping along she was accosted by a handsome youth, who extolled her beauty, expressed his passion for her, and finally endeavoured to embrace her; but the Laurel nymph fled, and pursued by the stranger, disappeared in the flowery groves.... “The Star Queen sleeps in her palace of clouds; sleep also, gentle and lovely girl; try to calm thy sighs.” So sings the handsome stranger, and the Daughter of the Laurel falls to sleep in his arms, murmuring a prayer that her lover may never abandon her. At her waking, alas! the youth is nowhere to be seen. She shrieks for him wildly, and calls to the night; to the stars; to the rivulet running through the wood; but in vain. “Open thy branches, beautiful Laurel-tree!” then cries the deserted girl; “the night is already flying, and if I remain longer here I shall dissolve away into dew.” “Away, young and beautiful girl,” replies the Laurel-tree mournfully; “the star wreath of honour has fallen from thy brow; there is no longer any place for thee here.” Then the sun rose over the mountain, and the Daughter of the Laurel dissolved away into dew.