Flowers; The Language of Love and Other Emotions

            In the days leading up to Valentine’s Day I couldn’t help noticing the blizzard of florist ads on TV, the internet, and print media. Ahh, flowers. There’s just something about receiving a fresh bouquet of flowers that makes the heart smile. If you’re like me, perhaps the thrill is due in part to the rarity of such an occasion.

            The recent barrage of ads encouraging the public to “Give flowers” as an expression of affection made me curious about the practice, so I did a little research on the subject. Turns out if you lived in the 19th Century and received a bouquet of flowers, you might want to take a closer look at those posies in hand before turning all gooey inside and gushing your thanks and appreciation.

            In the Victorian age, flowers, as well as a vast array of greenery, herbs, and spices spoke a silent, now long lost language of their own. If you’ve ever received a dozen red roses on Valentines Day or your birthday, you’re probably aware that flower symbolizes love. For most of us, that’s about the extent of our modern knowledge of “flower language.” But what if the roses were pink, yellow, or white? Or what if they weren’t roses at all, but lilies or hyacinths? And what about those sprigs of baby’s breath tucked in among the roses? Are they simply to accent the other flowers' brighter colors, or are they conveying a silent message of their own?

            The Victorians wouldn’t simply throw together a nice-looking handful of flowers. No ma’am! They had it all down to a science. They could silently convey messages by presenting combinations of carefully chosen blossoms. Even the way the flowers were presented could make a huge difference in the conveyed message. The size and grouping of the flowers and whether the posies were presented in the right or left hand, upright or upside down could all drastically nuance your floral communication.

            Consider the vast combinations possible and it’s enough to make your head explode! It’s no wonder they had special dictionaries of “floriography” to help keep all this stuff straight. Even with their pocket references at the ready, it’s easy to imagine myriad miscommuniqués. Why, offer a poorly crafted tussie-mussie (small bouquet wrapped in a lace doily tied with a satin ribbon) or wave a hankie scented with the wrong floral fragrance and calamity could ensue.

            I can imagine a dapper young man of the 1850’s, tussie-mussie in hand, smilingly striding up to the object of his affection. The young lady glimpses the posies in her suitor’s grasp and her expression registers surprise, confusion, and anger in quick succession. “Buttercups, red geraniums, and basil?” She snatches the bouquet, flings it to the ground, and stomps on it. “So you think I’m ungracious and stupid and you hate me? Well I never!” She tromps off, leaving the hapless young man as crushed as the bouquet at his feet.

            On the other hand, a young lady could scent herself with honeysuckle or lavender and unintentionally fan the ardor of any number of gentlemen. Seems to me, maneuvering a Victorian flower garden could be as dicey as traipsing through a mine field. Makes me glad I came of age in the Twentieth Century instead of the Nineteenth.

            Though the notion of “speaking through flowers” may be a romantic one, it’s probably for the best that the art of floriography has long ago been relegated to the compost heap of history. The courting crowd today has enough problems with miscommunication in this age of U-Tube and e-mails. You’d hate to think your relationship was done in by a rogue geranium.


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Sampling of flowers and their meanings from A Victorian Flower Dictionary: The Language of Flowers Companion by Mandy Kirkby.   

~A~                                                                         

acacia. . . . . secret love                                               

agrimony. . . . . gratitude                                                            

aloe. . . . . grief 

amaryllis. . . . . pride                                                   

anemone. . . . . forsaken

~B~      

baby’s breath. . . . . everlasting love

basil. . . . . hate                                                            

begonia. . . . . caution

blackberry. . . . . envy

buttercup. . . . . ingratitude

~C~

calla lily. . . . . modesty

carnations:

(red). . . . . my heart breaks

(pink). . . . . I will never forget you

(white). . . . . sweet and lovely

(yellow). . . . . disdain

chrysanthemum. . . . . truth

~D~

daffodil. . . . . new beginnings

dahlia. . . . . dignity

daisy. . . . . innocence

dogwood. . . . . love undiminished by adversity

~E~

edelweiss. . . . .noble courage

elder. . . . . compassion

evening primrose. . . . . inconstancy

~F~

fern (Polypodiophyta). . . . . sincerity

feverfew. . . . . warmth

forsythia. . . . . anticipation

freesia. . . . . lasting friendship

~G~

gardenia. . . . .refinement

geranium (scarlet). . . . . stupidity

gerber daisy. . . . . cheerfulness

gladiolus. . . . . you pierce my heart

~H~

hawthorn. . . . . hope

heliotrope. . . . . devoted affection

honeysuckle. . . . . devotion

hyacinth (white). . . . . beauty

hydrangea. . . . . dispassion

~I~

ice plant. . . . . your looks freeze me

impatiens. . . . . impatience

iris. . . . . message

ivy. . . . . fidelity

~J~

jonquil. . . . . desire

~L~

larkspur. . . . . lightness

lavender. . . . . mistrust

lilac. . . . . first emotions of love

lily of the valley. . . . . return of happiness

~M~

mistletoe. . . . . I surmount all obstacles

morning glory. . . . . coquetry

moss rose. . . . . confession of love

myrtle. . . . . love

~N~

narcissus. . . . . self love

nasturtium. . . . . impetuous love

nettle. . . . . cruelty

~O~  

olive. . . . . peace

orange. . . . . generosity

orchid. . . . . refined beauty

~P~

pansy. . . . . think of me

peach blossom. . . . . I am your captive

peony. . . . . anger

periwinkle. . . . . tender recollections

pholx. . . . . our souls are united

~Q~

Queen Anne’s lace. . . . . fantasy

Quince. . . . . temptation

~R~

redbud. . . . . betrayal

rhododendron. . . . . beware

rose

(pink). . . . . grace

(red). . . . . love

(white). . . . . heart unacquainted with love

(yellow). . . . . infidelity

~S~

sage. . . . . good health and long life

scabious. . . . . unfortunate love

snapdragon. . . . . presumption

stephanotis. . . . . happiness in marriage

Sweet William. . . . . gallantry

~T~

tansy. . . . . I declare war against you

thistle. . . . . misanthropy

~W~

witch hazel. . . . . spell

~Y~

yarrow. . . . . cure for a broken heart

~Z~

zinnia. . . . . I mourn your absence




Ramona K. Cecil is a wife, mother, grandmother, freelance poet, and award-winning inspirational romance writer. She lives in southern Indiana with her husband. Her publishing credits include Sweet Forever, Everlasting Promise, Charity’s Heart, and Heart’s Heritage, all published by Barbour Publishing’s Heartsong Presents line. Also published by Barbour are two novellas; To Hear Angels Sing, part of A Woodland Christmas, and Simple Gifts, part of A Quaker Christmas and a trade-length novel, A Bride’s Sweet Surprise in Sauers, Indiana. When not writing, she enjoys reading, gardening, and visiting places of historical interest.

                

Annie Blanchet Martin would rather die than sell her inheritance; her co-inheritor, Brock Martin, may die if she doesn’t. 

    Set against the Indiana wilderness of 1812, a teenaged widow and a soldier fleeing a false charge of murder discover they have more to lose than the land bequeathed to them.