The Lady Slipper newsletter, and now blog, of the Kentucky Native Plant Society has been published since the Society’s founding in 1986. We occasionally feature an article from a past issue. In this series of articles, that ran from late 1994 to early 1995, President Landon McKinney takes a look at the origins of some common and scientific plant names. These articles ran in three parts in Vol. 9, No. 4, Vol. 10, No. 1, and Vol. 10, No. 2. If you would like to see these and other past issues, visit the Lady Slipper Archives, where all issues from Vol. 1, February 1986 to Vol. 39, 2024, can be found.
What’s in a Name?
by Landon McKinney
Part 1
V9N4-1994-Nov
I am sure that each of us has wondered from time to time just where a particular common name for a plant came from. The origin of many common names are rather apparent, such as cardinal flower (red colored), Queen Anne’s lace (lacy cluster of flowers), or perhaps buffalo clover (favored by buffalo as forage).
This, the first in a series of articles, will explore some common names that are not quite as obvious. Let’s start with alfalfa. No, this plant was not named after that lovable character from the “Little Rascals”. The name was actually derived from Arabic meaning “best fodder”. The plant was introduced from Arabia to Spain, England, and eventually the United States.
How about pipsissewa? The origin here is from the Cree Indians and means “juice breaks stone in bladder into small pieces”. Needless to say, the Cree believed this plant to aid in the treatment of gall or kidney stones. Now there’s smartweed. Assuming the obvious, I tried eating this stuff but it just didn’t seem to work. Actually, the name refers to the fact that the plant burns (smarts) the tongue when tasted.
Some common names reflect the generic name such as portulaca. This name comes from the Latin word for “little gate” which refers to the lid of the seed capsule which opens like a gate.
I always wondered about ironweed, which merely refers to the hardiness and stiffness of the stem. Goldenseal, which has long been valued for its medicinal properties, has a name that actually stems from the use of this plant as a source of dye. We have curly dock and bitter dock and numerous other docks. Dock refers to the long thick taproot which resembles the solid portion of an animal’s tail. If used as a verb, the word dock commonly refers to the removal of said tail from sheep or certain breeds of dogs.
In closing, let me leave you with a few questions to ponder. Does the royal catchfly catch flies? Does the trout lily in some way resemble a fish and who is Joe Pye, anyway?
(Joe-Pye Weed)
Part 2
V10N1-1995-Feb
In our last newsletter, I left you some questions to ponder. Does the royal catchfly catch flies? Does the trout lily in some way resemble a fish and who is Joe-Pye anyway? For those of you who may still be wondering about the questions posed, I would like to quote from a letter I received from one of our members, Carole Hancock. “If you touch Silene you know its stem exudes a sticky substance……”, “the trout lily has leaves which are spotted like the skin of a trout or fawn…..”, “I’ve read that he (Joe Pye) was an Indian medicine man in New England in colonial times. He supposedly cured typhoid fever and other diseases using concoctions made from Eupatorium.” Many thanks to Carole for her kind letter and her expressed interest in wildflower folklore.
Well let’s jump right in with one of everyone’s favorites, azaleas or rhododendrons. Rhododendron is Greek for “rose tree” while azalea is derived from Greek meaning “dry” referring to its habitat of dry, rocky woods. Now “rose tree”, which refers to the color effect of the masses of flowers, seems appropriate. Azalea, on the other hand, seems inappropriate because most species may also be found in moist or wet woods, some exclusively so. The name azalea was applied based on the first habitat where the plant was encountered and is not now indicative for later discoveries of many of the other species. This is a similar situation to species such as eastern redcedar (Juniperus virginiana), Virginiana based on the first state where this species’ was found and described and not now indicative of this species entire range. As knowledge of our native flora has increased tremendously over the past couple of centuries, it is easy to see that the descriptive terminology applied in both common and scientific names may sometimes appear inappropriate or at least misleading.
(Wild Bergamot)
References to famous botanists abound in both common and scientific names. Examples include, for instance, Carex grayi, named after Asa Gray, a man who probably contributed more to the North American flora than any other historical figure. The genus name for one of our more popular mints (bee-balm, wild bergamot) is Monarda, named after Nicholas Monardes (1493-1588). He was a physician/ botanist in Seville, Spain who wrote a book “Joyful News out of the New Found World” which described useful American plants. Bartonia virginica was named after B. S. Barton (1766-1803), another physician/botanist who, among other important botanical contributions, wrote the first botanical text for the United States. Eupatorium spp. (boneset, Joe Pye weed, etc.) was named after Mithridates Eupator, King of Pontus near the Black Sea. He apparently discovered that one particular species of this genus could be used as an antidote for poison.
Vivid imaginations have played part in a number of plant names. For instance, Aletris farinosa (colic root, star grass) has its basis in Greek mythology. Aletris is the name of a female slave who ground meal. This alludes to the mealy (powdery) appearance of the perianth (sepals, petals). How about Aquilegia spp. (columbine), the genus name derived from the Latin “aquila” for eagle. Some imaginative botanist saw the form of an eagle in the flowers of this, one of our most uniquely different and beautiful wildflowers. Now I’m sorry folks, but I just do not see an eagle.
Here’s one that I always wondered about, hawkweed (Hieracium spp.). This small composite has, typically, a basal rosette of leaves and a rather tall flower stalk terminating with one to several small, yellow (usually), sunflower-like heads. There is nothing about this plant that could possibly resemble a hawk. Well it seems that the Greek word for hawk is “hieros”. The reference that I happen to be using suggested that Pliny used the juice of one of these plants in an eye salve which supposedly improved vision markedly and gave the user the sharp sight of a hawk. Now that we all know why this little composite is called hawkweed, we can rest a little easier, right? Wrong! Maybe you can but I couldn’t. Who was Pliny anyway? It just so happens that my wife and I just invested a small fortune on a set of encyclopedias for our kids. I figured I might as well put them to good use so I looked up this historic figure. Well, this began what might be termed the proverbial goose (hawk) chase. I quickly discovered that there were two Plinys. There was Pliny the Elder and Pliny the Younger. Both were Roman writers, the younger was a nephew to the elder. While there was no clear indication which one was the Pliny in question, the encyclopedia did refer to a 37 volume work on natural history by the elder and attributed nothing in the way of natural history to the younger. I will I never know for sure but I can assume that the elder is the most likely of the two.
Well I seem to have gotten off the subject just a little so now would be a good time to close. Before I go, let me leave you with several more questions to ponder. Who was Saint John, what is a wort (not wart), and was Hazel really a witch?
Part 3
V10N2-1995-May
Well all things must come to an end so this will be the last in this series of articles on the origins of plant names. First, we must clear up several unanswered questions from last time. After receiving the last newsletter and reading my own article, I realized how stupid it was to ask about Saint John. I’ve really got to stop writing this stuff at midnight after consuming 6 corndogs and a pint of mustard. Anyway, I believe I asked what a wort was. Well once again my mind must have been affected by my snacking obsession because the reference that I have been using did not explain this particular term. Thank goodness for a dictionary. Wort merely refers to any plant that may have food or medicinal value. Saint John’s wort was named because the plants bloom in June and Saint John’s day is June 24. This group of plants also was believed to have the power to ward off witches and other evil spirits.
Speaking of witches, let’s deal with witch hazel. Witch is derived from the Anglo-Saxon word wicen meaning “to bend” which refers to the pliant quality of the stems. Hazel refers to a group of trees living in the temperate regions of the world (hazel-nut, Corylus spp.). The stems of these trees are pliable and a forked stem was believed to have supernatural powers. The interesting point here is that witch hazel (Hamamelis virginiana) is more of a shrub and is in a completely different plant family. It just so happens that its stems are quite similar in their pliability and they too were thought to possess supernatural powers.
Before discussing anything new, I would like to clear up one small error I made in the last article. In my discussion of the genus name Aquilegia (from the Latin Aquila meaning eagle), I flatly denied see- ing the resemblance between the flower structure and an eagle. Well, one Saturday morning while watching some of my favorite “Looney Tunes” cartoons, this resemblance became quite obvious. There before me was this bald eagle, screaming down out of the sky, head and neck outstretched, wings plastered back as it aimed for its unsuspecting victim. The almost perfect configuration of a columbine flower was quite clear. I stand corrected.
Names based on resemblances are often quite obvious, such as thimbleweed (Anemone virginiana) where the seed head clearly resembles a thimble. How about turtlehead (Chelone spp.), whose flowers resemble a turtle’s head with its mouth opened, Mousetail (Myosurus minimus), which has a short, tapering flower/seed stalk, or Lizard’s tail (Saururus cernuus), which has a much longer, tapering flower/ seed stalk?
While I’ve mostly tried to stick to native species, I’m going to make another exception here by dis- cussing teasel (Dipsacus sylvestris), one of our more common roadside weeds. The genus name is derived from the Greek word meaning thirst. It seems that this non-native species was considered a thirst quencher for wayfarers who could find water in the hollows of the leaf bases. The common name re- ferred to the practice of using the dried seed heads with their firm, hooked bracts for “teasing” the nap on woolen cloth. I could have made a small for- tune with this plant in the early sixties.
As I bring this series to a close, I hope each of you will take some time to think a little more about all the plant names that we so frequently use as we continue to enjoy our native flora. For those of you that thirst for further knowledge on this interesting topic, there are probably at least a couple of books floating around on the subject. Two of my favorites (which are probably out of print) are “How Plants Got Their Names” by L. H. Bailey, 1933, Macmillan Company, New York, and “Flowers and Plants” by Robert Shosteck, 1974, Quadrangle/The New York Times Book Company, New York. The latter may still be available or may be found in your local library.