by Katy Gorsuch

Many common plant names have the ability to conjure an evocative image, and those for Trillium sessile are no exception. Commonly known as “toadshade,” other epithets for this plant are “sessile trillium,” “sessile-flowered wake-robin,” and “stinking Benjamin.”

May I take your name?

“Sessile” typically means “seated,” but in this context means that the flower and or leaves are attached to the plant without their own distinct stalks. You can see where this terminology may have come from; the flower and leaves give the appearance of being set down on a stalk sticking out of the ground.

There are several other plants also referred to as “toadshade,” but nearly all of them belong to the same genus as Trillium sessile. Trilliums as a whole are often called “wakerobin” or “wake-robin,” as well as tri flower and birthroot. Carl Linnaeus originally classified trilliums as being in the lily family, which may account for the occasional common name of “wood lily” for trilliums, though they are now in the bunchflower family (Melanthiaceae).

“Toadshade” evokes the image of a frog sitting beneath the plant’s broad leaves. While records don’t seem to be available to confirm such a scene, it does not seem out of the realm of possibility.

“Tri flower” and “trillium” both come from the observation that many species of the genus have three petals to their flowers, with three leaves around them, and sessile trillium is no exception. “Wake-robin” apparently originates as a term associating the blooming of trilliums with the spring return of robins, being explained as such in 1863 by the naturalist John Burroughs. 

However, the origins of “wake-robin” may be much more obscure. The term is cited as going back to at least 1711 by Merriam-Webster and to the mid 1500s by the Oxford English Dictionary (1530, John Palsgrave). It was used in 1595 as part of an illness cure in a reprinted book of remedies written by an Italian alchemist, and in this case probably refers to Arum maculatum, a plant native to Europe that bears the same common name. Here, as in another book printed in 1597, the word is spelled “wake Robin,” with Robin capitalized, as in a proper noun. Further muddying the original meaning of the name is the fact that by the 15th century, the fabled hero Robin Hood was closely associated with May Day celebrations in Britain, a common blooming time for many spring flowers. To add in further cultural context: Puck, in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, is referred to as Robin Goodfellow, a name that was first recorded in 1531 (perhaps not coincidentally) and used several times in print throughout the 16th century leading up to the publication of the play. From this, the question arises as to whether the original name was related to the bird known as a robin at all!

Here and There

Toadshade is partial to woodland ecosystems, like many trilliums, of which there are ten species in Maryland. It does well in areas with limestone (and thus “calcareous” soils, which are made of calcium carbonate). These soils tend to have a higher pH than average, while most soils tend to be more acidic. 

Toadshade also does well on riverbanks and tends to grow with other “spring ephemerals” (spring wildflowers with short, early blooming windows), like Virginia bluebells. As such, there is a brief window to see them; late March into early May is usually the extent of the blooming season for Trillium sessile in Maryland. 

The flower and its leaves tend to stand between 6 and 12 inches tall, in the rough shape of an umbrella. When toadshade does bloom, it opens a three-petaled flower with a deep burgundy color. The color serves as stark contrast to the mottled coloration that the leaves of the plant tends to take. Strikingly, this is where the term “stinking Benjamin” comes in. The flowers of toadshade are said to smell like carrion, which attracts the pollination efforts of flies. They aren’t alone in this adaptation; pawpaws have a similar reproductive tactic. 

Seed Needs

Trilliums have another trick up their sleeve – the ability to persuade ants to disperse their seeds. Plants that do this are “myrmecochorous,” and trilliums accomplish this by producing a seed with an elaiosome, a nutrient-rich bit attached to a seed. After the snack-incentive is removed, the seed is discarded, and the parent plant has thus accomplished the dispersal of its offspring. 

Finally, due to its preferred growing locations and timing, and the average size of the vast majority of Maryland frogs and toads, it is conceivable that a frog or toad may sit underneath a toadshade. So when spring gets hectic in these coming weeks, carry that thought with you, and let the fascinating world of native Maryland plants buoy your spirit!

To read more about the enthralling native plants of Maryland, including pieces you may have missed, check out the Habichat archives!