"It is eaten," says Gerard, "in salads, as watercresses are, and is good against that malum of such as dwell near the German seas, which we term the scurvie, or skirby, being used after the same manner that watercress and scurvy-grass is used, yet is it not of so great operation and virtue." The leaves and stem are slightly acid and astringent, with a somewhat bitter taste, and frequently the former are mixed by sellers of water-cresses with their stock-in-trade.
[432] A full dose of the juice of fresh Brooklime is an easy purge; and the plant has always been a popular Simple for scrofulous affections, especially of the skin. Chemically, this Water Pimpernel contains some tannin, and a special bitter principle; whilst, in common with most of the Cruciferous plants, it is endowed with a pungent volatile oil, and some sulphur. The bruised plant has been applied externally for healing ulcers, burns, whitlows, and for the mitigation of swollen piles.
The Bog Pimpernel (Anagallis tenella), is common in boggy ground, having erect rose-coloured leaves larger than those of the Poor Man's Weather Glass.
PINK.
The Clove Pink, or Carnation of our gardens, though found apparently wild on old castle walls in England, is a naturalised flower in this country. It is, botanically, the Dianthus Caryophyllus, being so named as anthos, the flower, dios, of Jupiter: whilst redolent of Caryophylli, Cloves. The term Carnation has been assigned to the Pink, either because the blossom has the colour, carnis, of flesh: or, as more correctly spelt by our older writers, Coronation, from the flowers being employed in making chaplets, coronoe. Thus Spenser says:—
"Bring Coronations, and Sops in Wine,
Worn of paramours."—Shepherd's Kalendar.
This second title, Sops in Wine, was given to the plant because the flowers were infused in wine for the sake of their spicy flavour; especially in that presented to brides after the marriage ceremony. Further, this Pink is the Clove Gilly (or July) flower, and gives its specific name to the natural order Caryophyllaceoe. The word Pink is a corruption of the Greek Pentecost [433] (fiftieth), which has now come to signify a festival of the Church. In former days the blossoms were commended as highly cordial: their odour is sweet and aromatic, so that an agreeable syrup may be made therefrom. The dried petals, if powdered, and kept in a stoppered bottle, are of service against heartburn and flatulence, being given in a dose of from twenty to sixty grains. Gerard says, "a conserve made of the flowers with sugar is exceeding cordiall, and wonderfully above measure doth comfort the heart, being eaten now and then. A water distilled from Pinks has been commended as excellent for curing epilepsy, and if a conserve be composed of them, this is the life and delight of the human race." The flower was at one time called ocellus, from the eye-shaped markings of its corolla. It is nervine and antispasmodic. By a mistake Turner designated the Pink Incarnation.
PLANTAIN.
The Plantains (Plantaginacecoe), from planta, the sole of the foot, are humble plants, well known as weeds in fields and by roadsides, having ribbed leaves and spikes of flowers conspicuous by their long stamens. As Herbal Simples, the Greater Plantain, the Ribwort Plantain, and the Water Plantain, are to be specially considered.
The Greater Plantain of the waysides affords spikes of seeds which are a favourite food of Canaries, and which, in common with the seeds of other sorts, yield a tasteless mucilage, answering well as a substitute for linseed. The leaves of the Plantains have a bitter taste, and are somewhat astringent.
The generic name Plantago is probably derived from the Latin planta, the sole of the foot, in allusion to the [434] broad, flat leaves lying close on the ground, and ago, the old synonym for wort, a cultivated plant.
This greater Plantain (Plantago major) is also termed Waybred, Waybread, or Waybroad, "spread on the way," and has followed our colonists to all parts of the globe, being therefore styled "The Englishman's Foot" and "Whiteman's Foot." The shape of the leaf in the larger species resembles a footprint. The root has a sweet taste, and gives the saliva a reddish tinge.
Dioscorides advised that it should be applied externally for sores of every kind, and taken internally against haemorrhages. In the Romeo and Juliet of Shakespeare, Romeo says, "Your Plantain leaf is excellent for broken shin." Country persons apply these leaves to open sores and wounds, or make a poultice of them, or give fomentations with a hot decoction of the same, or prepare a gargle from the decoction when cold.
The expressed juice of the greater Plantain has proved of curative effect in tubercular consumption, with spitting of blood. This herb is said to furnish a cure for the venomous bite of the rattlesnake, as discovered by the negro Caesar in South Carolina.
It is of excellent curative use against the intermittent fevers of Spring, but for counteracting autumnal (septic) fevers it is of no avail.
The virtues of the greater Plantain as an application to wounds and sores were known of old. It possesses a widespread repute in Switzerland as a local remedy for toothache, the root or leaves being applied against the ear of the affected side. Those persons who proved the plant by taking it experimentally in various doses, suffered much pain in the teeth and jaws. Accordingly, Dr. Hale found that, of all his remedies [435] for the toothache, none could compare with the Plantago major.
It gives rise to an active flow of urine when taken in considerable doses, and when administered in small doses of the diluted tincture, it has proved curative of bed wetting in young children. Gerard tells that "Plantain leaves stuped stayeth the inordinate flux of the terms, though it hath continued many years." For inflamed protruding piles, a broad-leaved Plantain reduced to a pulp, and kept bound to the parts by a compress, will give sure and speedy relief. Highlanders call it Slanlus, the healing plant.
The Ribwort Plantain (Plantago lanceolata), Ribgrass, Soldiers, or Cocks and Hens, is named from the strong parallel veins in its leaves. The flower stalks are termed Kemps, from campa, a warrior. The leaves are astringent, and useful for healing sores when applied thereto, and for dressing wounds. This Plantain is also named Hardheads, Fighting Cocks, and in Germany, Devil's Head, being used in divination. Children challenge one another to a game of striking off the heads.
Toads are thought to cure themselves of their ailments by eating its leaves. In Sussex, it is known as Lamb's Tongue. The powdered root of the Ribwort Plantain is of use for curing vernal ague, a dessertspoonful being given for a dose, two or three times in a day.
The Water Plantain (Alisma Plantago), belonging to a different natural order, is common on the margins of our rivers and ditches, getting its name from the Celtic alos, water, and being called also the greater Thrumwort, from thrum, the warp end of a weaver's web. The root and leaves contain an acrid juice, dispersed by heat, which is of service for irritability of the bladder. After [436] the root is boiled so as to dissipate this medicinal juice it makes an edible starchy vegetable.
This plant is commonly classed with the Plantains because its leaves resemble theirs; but in general characteristics and qualities it more properly belongs to the Ranunculaceoe.
Its fresh leaves applied to the skin will raise a blister, and may be used for such a purpose, especially to relieve the swollen legs of dropsical subjects when the vesicles should be punctured and the serum drawn off. They contain a pungent butyraceous volatile oil. The seeds dislodged from the dry, ripe plant, by striking it smartly on a table, are good in decoction against bleedings, and are employed by country people for curing piles. About the Russian Empire the Water Plantain is still regarded as efficacious against hydrophobia. Dr. George Johnston says: "In the Government of Isola it has never failed of a cure for the last twenty-five years." Reduced to powder it is spread over bread and butter, and is eaten. Likewise, cures of rabid dogs by this plant are reported; and in America it is renowned as a remedy against the bite of the rattlesnake. The tubers contain a nutritious substance, and are eaten by the Tartars.
Apropos of this "Water Plantain" a Teesdale proverb says: "He's nar a good weaver that leaves lang thrums."
The small seeds of a Plantain grass which grows commonly in Southern Europe, the Fleawort, or Plantago Psyllium, have been known from time immemorial as an easy and popular aperient. In France these Psyllium seeds, given in a dessertspoonful dose, are widely prescribed as a laxative in lieu of mineral aperient waters, or the morning Seidlitz. They act after being soaked for some hours in cold water, by their mucilage, and [437] when swallowed, by virtue of a laxative oil set free within the intestines. The grass is well known in some parts as "Clammy Plantain," and it has leafless heads with toothed leaves. These seeds are dispensed by the London druggists who supply French medicines.
POPPY.
The Scarlet Poppy of our cornfields (Papaver Rhoeas) is one of the most brilliant and familiar of English wild flowers, being strikingly conspicuous as a weed by its blossoms rich in scarlet petals, which are black at the base. The title Papaver has been derived from pap, a soft food given to young infants, in which it was at one time customary to boil Poppy seeds for the purpose of inducing sleep. Provincially this plant bears the titles of "Cop Rose" (from its rose-like flowers, and the button-like form of its cop, or capsule) and "Canker Rose," from its detriment to wheat crops.
The generic term Rhoeas comes from reo, to fall, because the scarlet petals have so fragile a hold on their receptacles; and the plant has been endowed with the sobriquet, "John Silver Pin, fair without and foul within." In the Eastern counties of England any article of finery brought out only occasionally, and worn with ostentation by a person otherwise a slattern, is called "Joan Silver Pin." After this sense the appellation has been applied to the Scarlet Poppy. Its showy flower is so attractive to the eye, whilst its inner juice is noxious, and stains the hands of those who thoughtlessly crush it with their fingers.
"And Poppies a sanguine mantle spread,
For the blood of the dragon St. Margaret shed."
Robert Turner naively says, "The Red Poppy Flower (Papaver erraticum) resembleth at its bottom the settling [438] of the 'Blood in pleurisie'"; and, he adds, "how excellent is that flower in diseases of the pleurisie with similar surfeits hath been sufficiently experienced."
It is further called Blindy Buff, Blind Eyes, Headwarke, and Headache, from the stupefying effects of smelling it. Apothecaries make a syrup of a splendid deep colour from its vividly red petals; but this does not exercise any soporific action like that concocted from the white Poppy, which is a sort of modified opiate, suitable for infants under certain conditions, when sanctioned by a doctor. Otherwise, all sedatives of a narcotic sort are to be strongly condemned for use by mothers, or nurses:—
"But a child that bids the world 'Good-night'
In downright earnest, and cuts it quite,
(A cherub no art can copy),
'Tis a perfect picture to see him lie,
As if he had supped on dormouse pie,
An ancient classical dish, by-the-bye,
With a sauce of syrup of Poppy."
Petronius, in the time of Nero, A.D. 80, "delivered an odd receipt for dressing dormouse sausages, and serving them up with Poppies and honey, which must have been a very soporiferous dainty, and as good as owl pye to such as want a nap after dinner."
The white Poppy is specially cultivated in Britain for the sake of its seed capsules, which possess attributes similar to opium, but of a weaker strength. These capsules are commonly known as Poppyheads, obtained from the druggist for use in domestic fomentations to allay pain. Also from the capsules, without their seeds, is made the customary syrup of White Poppies, which is so familiar as a sedative for childhood; but it should be always remembered that infants of tender years are highly susceptible to the influence even of this mild form [439] of opium. The true gum opium, and laudanum, which is its tincture, are derived from Eastern Poppies (Papaver somniferum) by incisions made in the capsules at a proper season of the year. The cultivated Poppy of the garden will afford English opium in a like manner, but it is seldom used for this purpose. A milky juice exudes when the capsules of these cultivated flowers are cut, or bruised. They are familiar to most children as drumsticks, plucked in the garden after the gaudy petals of the flowers have fallen off. The leaves and stems likewise afford some of the same juice, which, when inspissated, is known as English opium. The seeds of the white Poppy yield by expression a bland nutritive oil, which may be substituted for that of olives, or sweet almonds, in cooking, and for similar uses. Dried Poppy-heads, formerly in constant request for making hot soothing stupes, or for application directly to a part in pain, are now superseded for the most part by the many modern liquid preparations of opium handy for the purpose, to be mixed with hot water, or applied in poultices.
For outward use laudanum may be safely added to stupes, hot or cold, a teaspoonful being usually sufficient for the purpose, or perhaps two, if the pain is severe; and powdered opium may be incorporated with one or another ointment for a similar object. If a decoction of Poppy capsules is still preferred, it should be made by adding to a quarter-of-a-pound of white Poppy heads (free from seeds, and broken up in a mortar) three pints of boiling water; then boil for ten or fifteen minutes, and strain off the decoction, which should measure about two pints.
Dr. Herbert Snow, resident physician at the Brompton Cancer Hospital, says (1895) he has found: "after a [440] long experience, Opium exhibits a strong inhibitive influence on the cancer elements, retarding and checking the cell growth, which is a main feature of the disease. Even when no surgical operation has been performed, Opium is the only drug which markedly checks cancer growth: and the early employment of this medicine will usually add years of comfortable life to the otherwise shortened space of the sufferer's existence." Opium gets its name from the Greek apos, juice.
The seeds of the white Poppy are known us mawseed, or balewort, and are given as food to singing birds. In old Egypt these seeds were mixed with flour and honey, and made into cakes.
Pliny says: "The rustical peasants of Greece glazed the upper crust of their loaves with yolks of eggs, and then bestrewed them with Poppy seeds," thus showing that the seeds were then considered free from narcotic properties. And in Queen Elizabeth's time these seeds were strewn over confectionery, whilst the oil expressed from them was "delightful to be eaten when taken with bread."
White Poppy capsules, when dried, furnish papaverine and narcotine, with some mucilage, and a little waxy matter. The seeds contained within the capsules yield Poppy seed oil, with a fixed oil, and a very small quantity of morphia—about five grains in a pound of white Poppy seeds. In some parts of Russia the seeds are put into soups.
The Poppy was cultivated by the Greeks before the time of Hippocrates. It has long been a symbol of death, because sending persons to sleep. Ovid says, concerning the Cave of Somnus:—
"Around whose entry nodding Poppies grow,
And all cool Simples that sweet rest bestow."
[441] The common scarlet Poppy was called by the Anglo-Saxons "Chesebolle," "Chebole," or "Chybolle," from the ripe capsule resembling a round cheese.
There is a Welsh Poppy, with yellow flowers; and a horned Poppy, named after Glaucus, common on our sea coasts, with sea-green leaves, and large blossoms of golden yellow. Glaucus, a fisherman of Boeotia, observed that all the fishes which he caught received fresh vigour when laid on the ground, and were immediately able to leap back into the sea. He attributed these effects to some herb growing in the grass, and upon tasting the leaves of the Sea Poppy he found himself suddenly moved with an intense desire to live in the sea; wherefore he was made a sea-god by Oceanus and Tethys. Borlase says: "That in the Scilly Islands the root of the Sea Poppy is so much valued for removing all pains in the breast, stomach, and intestines, as well as so good for disordered lungs, whilst so much better there than in other places, that the apothecaries of Cornwall send thither for it; and some persons plant these roots in their gardens in Cornwall, and will not part with them under sixpence a root." The scarlet petals of the wild Poppy, very abundant in English cornfields, when treated with sulphuric acid make a splendid red dye. With gorgeous tapestry cut from these crimson petals, the clever "drapery bee" (Apis papaveris) upholsters the walls of her solitary cell. Bruised leaves of the wild, or the garden Poppy, if applied to a part which has been stung by a bee or a wasp, will give prompt relief.
POTATO.
Our invaluable Potato, which enters so largely into the dietary of all classes, belongs to the Nightshade tribe of [442] dangerous plants, though termed "solanaceous" as a natural order because of the sedative properties which its several genera exercise to lull pain.
This Potato, the Solanum tuberosum, is so universally known as a plant that it needs no particular description. It is a native of Peru, and was imported in 1586 by Thomas Heriot, mathematician and colonist, being afterwards taken to Ireland from Virginia by Sir Walter Raleigh, and passing from thence over into Lancashire. He knew so little of its use that he tried to eat the fruit, or poisonous berries, of the plant. These of course proved noxious, and he ordered the new comers to be rooted out. The gardener obeyed, and in doing so first learnt the value of their underground wholesome tubers. But not until the middle of the eighteenth century, were they common in this country as an edible vegetable. "During 1629," says Parkinson, "the Potato from Virginia was roasted under the embers, peeled and sliced: the tubers were put into sack with a little sugar, or were baked with cream, marrow, sugar, spice, etc., in pies, or preserved and candied by the comfit makers." But he most probably refers here to the Batatas, or sweet Potato, a Convolvulus, which was a popular esculent vegetable at that date, of tropical origin, and to which our Potato has since been thought to bear a resemblance.
This Batatas, or sweet Potato, had the reputation, like Eringo root, of being able to restore decayed vigour, and so Falstaff is made by Shakespeare to say: "Let the sky rain potatoes, hail kissing comfits, and snow eringoes." For a considerable while after their introduction the Potato tubers were grown only by men of fortune as a delicacy; and the general cultivation of this vegetable was strongly opposed by the public, [443] chiefly by the Puritans, because no mention of it could be found in the Bible.
Also in France great opposition was offered to the recognised use of Potatoes: and it is said that Louis the Fifteenth, in order to bring the plant into favour, wore a bunch of its flowers in the button hole of his coat on a high festival. Later on during the Revolution quite a mania prevailed for Potatoes. Crowds perambulated the streets of Paris shouting for "la liberte, et des Batatas"; and when Louis the Sixteenth had been dethroned the gardens of the Tuileries were planted with Potatoes. Cobbett, in this country, exclaimed virulently against the tuber as "hogs' food," and hated it as fiercely as he hated tea. The stalks, leaves, and green berries of the plant share the narcotic and poisonous attributes of the nightshades to which it belongs; and the part which we eat, though often thought to be a root, is really only an underground stem, which has not been acted on by light so as to develop any poisonous tendencies, and in which starch is stored up for the future use of the plant.
The stalks, leaves, and unripe fruit yield an active principle
apparently very powerful, which has not yet been fully investigated.
There are two sorts of tubers, the red and the white. A roasted
Potato takes two hours to digest; a boiled one three hours and a half.
"After the Potato," says an old proverb, "cheese."
Chemically the Potato contains citric acid, like that of the lemon, which is admirable against scurvy: also potash, which is equally antiscorbutic, and phosphoric acid, yielding phosphorus in a quantity less only than that afforded by the apple, and by wheat. It is of the first importance that the potash salts should be retained by the potato during cooking: and the [444] tubers should therefore be steamed with their coats on; else if peeled, and then steamed, they lose respectively seven and five per cent. of potash, and phosphoric acid.
If boiled after peeling they lose as much as thirty-three per cent. of potash, and twenty-three per cent. of phosphoric acid. "The roots," says Gerard, "were forbidden in Burgundy, for that they were persuaded the too frequent use of them causeth the leprosie." Nevertheless it is now believed that the Potato has had much to do with expelling leprosy from England. The affliction has become confined to countries where the Potato is not grown.
Boiled or steamed Potatoes should turn out floury, or mealy, by reason of the starch granules swelling up and filling the cellular tissue, whilst absorbing the albuminous contents of its cells. Then the albumen coagulates, and forms irregular fibres between the starch grains. The most active part of the tuber lies just beneath the skin, as may be shown by pouring some tincture of guaiacum over the cut surface of a Potato, when a ring of blue forms close to the skin, and is darkest there while extending over the whole cut surface. Abroad there is a belief the Potato thrives best if planted on Maundy Thursday. Rustic names for it are: Taiders, Taities, Leather Coats, Leather Jackets, Lapstones, Pinks, No Eyes, Flukes, Blue Eyes, Red Eyes, and Murphies; in Lancashire Potatoes are called Spruds, and small Potatoes, Sprots.
The peel or rind of the tuber contains a poisonous substance called "solanin," which is dissipated and rendered inert when the whole Potato is boiled, or steamed. Stupes of hot Potato water are very serviceable in some forms of rheumatism. To make the [445] decoction for this purpose, boil one pound of Potatoes (not peeled, and divided into quarters.) in two pints of water slowly down to one pint; then foment the swollen and painful parts with this as hot as it can be borne. Similarly some of the fresh stalks of the plant, and its unripe berries, as well as the unpeeled tubers cut up as described, if infused for some hours in cold water, will make a liquor in which the folded linen of a compress may be loosely rung out, and applied most serviceably under waterproof tissue, or a double layer of dry flannel. The carriage of a small raw Potato in the trousers' pocket has been often found preventive of rheumatism in a person predisposed thereto, probably by reason of the sulphur, and the narcotic principles contained in the peel. Ladies in former times had their dresses supplied with special bags, or pockets, in which to carry one or more small raw Potatoes about their person for avoiding rheumatism.
If peeled and pounded in a mortar, uncooked Potatoes applied cold make a very soothing cataplasm to parts that have been scalded, or burnt. In Derbyshire a hot boiled Potato is used against corns; and for frost-bites the mealy flour of baked potatoes, when mixed with sweet oil and applied, is very healing.
The skin of the tuber contains corky wood which swells in boiling with the jackets on, and which thus serves to keep in all the juices so that the digestibility of the Potato is increased; at the same time water is prevented from entering and spoiling the flavour of the vegetable. The proportion of muscle-forming food (nitrogen) in the Potato is very small, and it takes ten and a half pounds of the tubers to equal one pound of butcher's meat in nutritive value.
The Potato is composed mainly of starch, which [446] affords animal heat and promotes fatness, The Irish think that these tubers foster fertility; they prefer them with the jackets on, and somewhat hard in the middle—"with the bones in." A potato pie is believed to invigorate the sexual functions.
New Potatoes contain as yet no citric acid, and are hard of digestion, like sour crude apples; their nutriment, as Gerard says, "is sadly windy," the starch being immature, and not readily acted on by the saliva during mastication. "The longer I live," said shrewd Sidney Smith, "the more I am convinced that half the unhappiness in the world proceeds from a vexed stomach, or vicious bile: from small stoppages, or from food pressing in the wrong place. Old friendships may be destroyed by toasted cheese; and tough salted meat has led a man not infrequently to suicide."
A mature Potato yields enough citric acid even for commercial purposes; and there is no better cleaner of silks, cottons, and woollens, than ripe Potato juice. But even of ripe Potatoes those that break into a watery meal in the boiling are always found to prove greatly diuretic, and to much increase the quantity of urine.
By fermentation mature Potatoes, through their starch and sugar, yield a wine from which may be distilled a Potato spirit, and from it a volatile oil can be extracted, called by the Germans, Fuseloel. This is nauseous, and causes a heavy headache, with indigestion, and biliary disorders together with nervous tremors. Chemically it is amylic ether.
Also when boiled with weak sulphuric acid, the Potato starch is changed into glucose, or grape sugar, which by fermentation yields alcohol: and this spirit is often sold under the name of British brandy.
A luminosity strong enough to enable a bystander to [447] read by its light issues from the common Potato when in a state of putrefaction. In Cumberland, to have "taities and point to dinner," is a figurative expression which implies scanty fare. At a time when the duty on salt made the condiment so dear that it was scarce in a household, the persons at table were fain to point their Potatoes at the salt cellar, and thus to cheat their imaginations. Carlyle asks in Sartor Resartus about "an unknown condiment named 'point,' into the meaning of which I have vainly enquired; the victuals potato and point not appearing in any European cookery book whatever."
German ladies, at their five o'clock tea, indulge in Potato talk (Kartoffel gesprach) about table dainties, and the methods of cooking them. Men likewise, from the four quarters of the globe, in the days of our childhood, were given to hold similar domestic conclaves, when:—
"Mr. East made a feast,
Mr. North laid the cloth,
Mr. West brought his best,
Mr. South burnt his mouth
Eating a cold Potato."
With pleasant skill of poetic alliteration, Sidney Smith wrote in ordering how to mix a sallet:—
"Two large Potatoes passed through kitchen sieve,
Unwonted softness to a salad give."
And Sir Thomas Overbury wittily said about a dolt who took credit for the merits of his ancestors: "Like the Potato, all that was good about him was underground."
PRIMROSE.
The Common Primrose (Primula veris) is the most widely known of our English wild flowers, and appears in the Spring as its earliest herald.
[448] It gets its name from the Latin primus, first, being named in old books and M.S. Pryme rolles, and in the Grete Herball, Primet, as shortened from Primprint.
In North Devon it is styled the Butter Rose, and in the Eastern counties it is named (in common with the Cowslip) Paigle, Peagle, Pegyll, and Palsy plant.
Medicinally also it possesses similar curative attributes, though in a lesser degree, to those of the Cowslip. Both the root and the flowers contain a volatile oil, and "primulin" which is identical with mannite: whilst the acrid principle is "saponin." Alfred Austin, Poet Laureate, teaches to "make healing salve with early Primroses."
Pliny speaks of the Primrose as almost a panacea: In aqua potam omnibus morbis mederi tradunt. An infusion of the flowers has been always thought excellent against nervous disorders of the hysterical sort. It should be made with from five to ten parts of the petals to one hundred of water. "Primrose tea" says Gerard, "drunk in the month of May, is famous for curing the phrensie."
The whole plant is sedative and antispasmodic, being of service by its preparations to relieve sleeplessness, nervous headache, and muscular rheumatism. The juice if sniffed up into the nostrils will provoke violent sneezing, and will induce a free flow of water from the lining membranes of the nostrils for the mitigation of passive headaches: though this should not be tried by a person of full habit with a determination of blood to the head. A teaspoonful of powdered dry Primrose root will act as an emetic. The whole herb is somewhat expectorant.
When the petals are collected and dried they become of a greenish colour: whilst fresh they have a honey-like odour, and a sweetish taste.
[449] Within the last few years a political significance and popularity have attached themselves to the Primrose beyond every other British wild flower. It arouses the patriotism of the large Conservative party, and enlists the favour of many others who thoughtlessly follow an attractive fashion, and who love the first fruits of early Spring. Botanically the Primrose has two varieties of floral structure: one "pin-eyed," with a tall pistil, and short stamens; the other "thrum-eyed," showing a rosette of tall stamens, whilst the short pistil must be looked for, like the great Panjandrum himself, "with a little round button at the top," half way down the tube. Darwin was the first to explain that this diversity of structure ensures cross fertilisation by bees and allied insects. Through advanced cultivation at the hands of the horticulturist the Primula acquires in some instances a noxious character. For instance, the Primula biconica, which is often grown in dwelling rooms as a window plant, and commonly sold as such, will provoke an crysipelatous vesicular eruption of a very troublesome and inflamed character on the hands and face of some persons who come in contact with the plant by manipulating it to take cuttings, or in other ways. A knowledge of this fact should suggest the probable usefulness of the said Primula, when made into a tincture, and given in small diluted doses thereof, to act curatively for such an eruption if attacking the sufferer from idiopathic causes.
The Latins named the Ligustrum (our Privet) Primrose. Coles says concerning it (17th century): "This herbe is called Primrose; it is good to 'Potage.'" They also applied the epithet, "Prime rose" to a lady.
The Evening Primrose (OEnothera biennis, or odorata) is found in this country on sand banks in the West of England and Cornwall; but it is then most probably a [450] garden scape, and an alien, its native habitat being in Canada and the United States of America. We cultivate it freely in our parterres as a brilliant, yellow, showy flower. It belongs to the natural order, Onagraceoe, so called because the food of wild asses; and was the "vini venator" of Theophrastus, 350 B.C. The name signifies having the odour of wine, oinos and theera. Pliny said: "It is an herbe good as wine to make the heart merrie. It groweth with leaves resembling those of the almond tree, and beareth flowers like unto roses. Of such virtue is this herbe that if it be given to drink to the wildest beast that is, it will tame the same and make it gentle." The best variety of this plant is the OEnothera macrocarpa.
The bark of the Evening Primrose is mucilaginous, and a decoction made therefrom is of service for bathing the skin eruptions of infants and young children. To answer such purpose a decoction should be made from the small twigs, and from the bark of the larger branches, retaining the leaves. This has been found further of use for diarrhoea associated with an irritable stomach, and asthma. The infusion, or the liquid extract, acts as a mild but efficient sedative in nervous indigestion, from twenty to thirty drops of the latter being given for a dose. The ascertained chemical principle of the plant, OEnotherin, is a compound body. Its flowers open in the evening, and last only until the next noon; therefore this plant is called the "Evening Primrose," or "Evening Star."
Another of the Primrose tribe, the Cyclamen, or Sow-bread (Panis porcinus), is often grown in our gardens, and for ornamenting our rooms as a pot plant. Its name means (Greek) "a circle," and refers to the reflected corolla, or to the spiral fruit-stalks; and again, [451] from the tuber being the food of wild swine. Gerard said it was reported in his day to grow wild on the Welsh mountains, and on the Lincolnshire hills: but he failed to find it. Nevertheless it is now almost naturalised in some parts of the South, and East of England. As the petals die, the stalks roll up and carry the capsular berries down to the surface of the ground. A medicinal tincture is made (H.) from the fresh root when flowering. The ivy-leaved variety is found in England, with nodding fresh-coloured blossoms, and a brown intensely acrid root. Besides starch, gum, and pectin, it yields chemically, "cyclamin," or "arthanatin," with an action like "saponin," whilst the juice is poisonous to fish. When applied externally as a liniment over the bowels, it causes them to be purged. Gerard quaintly and suggestively declares "It is not good for women with childe to touch, or take this herbe, or to come neere unto it, or to stride over the same where it groweth: for the natural attractive vertue therein contained is such that, without controversie, they that attempt it in manner above said, shall be delivered before their time; which danger and inconvenience to avoid, I have fastened sticks in the ground about the place in my garden where it groweth, and some other sticks also crosswaies over them, lest any woman should by lamentable experiment find my words to be true by stepping over the same. Again, the root hanged about women in their extreme travail with childe, causeth them to be delivered incontinent: and the leaves put into the place hath the like effect." Inferentially a tincture of the plant should be good for falling and displacement of the womb. "Furthermore, Sowbread, being beaten, and made into little flat cakes, is reputed to be a good amorous medicine, to make one in love."
[452] In France, another Primula, the wild Pimpernel, occurs as a noxious herb, and is therefore named Mouron.
QUINCE.
The Quince (Cydonia) is cultivated sparingly in our orchards for the sake of its highly fragrant, and strong-smelling fruit, which as an adjunct to apples is much esteemed for table uses.
It may well be included among remedial Herbal Simples because of the virtues possessed by the seeds within the fruit. The tree is a native of Persia and Crete; bearing a pear-shaped fruit, golden yellow when gathered, and with five cells in it, each containing twelve closely packed seeds. These are mucilaginous when unbroken, and afford the taste of bitter almonds.
When immersed in water they swell up considerably, and the mucilage will yield salts of lime with albumen.
Bandoline is the mucilage of Quince seeds to which some Eau de Cologne is added: and this mixture is employed for keeping the hair fixed when dressed by the Coiffeur.
The mucilage of Quince seeds is soothing and protective to an irritated or inflamed skin; it may also be given internally for soreness of the lining mucous membranes of the stomach and bowels, as in gastric catarrh, and for cough with a dry sore throat. One dram of the seeds boiled slowly in half-a-pint of fresh water until the liquor becomes thick, makes an excellent mucilage as a basis for gargles and injections; or, one part of the seeds to fifty parts of rosewater, shaken together for half-an-hour.
From growing at first in Cydon, now Candia, the tree got its name Cydonia: its old English title was Melicotone; and in ancient Rome it was regarded as a sacred fruit, [453] being hung upon statues in the houses of the great. Now we banish the tree, because of its strong penetrating odour, to a corner of the garden. Lord Bacon commended "quiddemy," a preserve of Quinces, for strengthening the stomach; and old Fuller said of this fruit, "being not more pleasant to the palate than restorative to the health, they are accounted a great cordiall." Jam made from the Quince (Malmelo) first took the name of Marmalade, which has since passed on to other fruit conserves, particularly to that of the Seville Orange. In France the Quince is made into a compote which is highly praised for increasing the digestive powers of weakly persons. According to Plutarch Solon made a law that the Quince should form the invariable feast of the bridegroom (and some add likewise of the bride) before retiring to the nuptial couch. Columella said: "Quinces yield not only pleasure but health." The Greeks named the Quince "Chrysomelon," or the Golden Apple; so it is asserted that the golden fruit of the Hesperides were Quinces, and that these tempted Hercules to attack their guardian dragon. Shakespeare makes Lady Capulet when ordering the wedding feast,
"Call for dates, and Quinces in the pastry."
In Persia the fruit ripens, and is eaten there as a dessert delicacy which is much prized. If there be but a single Quince in a caravan, no one who accompanies it can remain unconscious of its presence. In Sussex at one time a popular wine was made of Quinces. They are astringent to stay diarrhoea; and a syrup may be concocted from their juice to answer this purpose. For thrush and for excoriations within the mouth and upper throat, one drachm of the seeds should [459] be boiled in eight fluid ounces of water until it acquires a proper demulcent mucilaginous consistence. "Simon Sethi writeth," says Gerard: "that the woman with child that eateth many Quinces during the time of her breeding, shall bring forth wise children, and of good understanding." Gerard says again: "The marmalad, or Cotiniat made of Quinces and sugar is good and profitable to strengthen the stomach that it may retain and keep the meat therein until it be perfectly digested. It also stayeth all kinds of fluxes both of the belly, and of other parts, and also of blood. Which cotiniat is made in this manner. Take four Quinces, pare them, cut them in pieces, and cast away the core: then put into every pound of Quinces a pound of sugar, and to every pound of sugar a pint of water. These must be boiled together over a still fire till they be very soft: next let it be strained, or rather rubbed through a strainer, or a hairy sieve, which is better. And then set it over the fire to boil again until it be stiff: and so box it up: and as it cooleth, put thereto a little rose water, and a few grains of musk mingled together, which will give a goodly taste to the cotiniat. This is the way to make marmalad."
"The seed of Quinces tempered with water doth make a mucilage, or a thing like jelly which, being held in the mouth is marvellous good to take away the roughness of the tongue in hot burning fevers." Lady Lisle sent some cotiniat of Quinces to Henry the Eighth by her daughter Katharine. They were reputed a sexual stimulant. After being boiled and preserved in syrup, Quinces give a well known pleasant flavour to apple pie. As the fruit is free from acid, or almost so; its marmalade may be eaten by the goutily disposed with more impunity than that made with the Seville orange. An after taste suggestive of [455] garlic is left on the palate by masticating Quince marmalade.
In the modern treatment of chronic dysentery the value of certain kinds of fresh fruit has come to be medically recognised. Of these may be specified strawberries, grapes, fresh figs, and tomatoes, all of which are seed fruits as distinguished from stone fruit. It is essential that they shall be absolutely sound, and in good condition. Dr. Saumaurez Lacy, of Guernsey, has successfully practised this treatment for many years, and it has been recently employed by others for chronic dysentery, and diarrhoea, with most happy results.
RADISH.
The common garden Radish (Raphanus sativus) is a Cruciferous plant, and a cultivated variety of the Horse Radish. It came originally from China, but has been grown allover Europe from time immemorial. Radishes were celebrated by Dioscorides and Pliny as above all roots whatsoever, insomuch, that in the Delphic temple there was a Radish of solid gold, raphanus ex auro dicatus: and Moschinus wrote a whole volume in their praise; but Hippocrates condemned them as vitiosas, innatantes, acoegre concoctiles.
Among the oblations offered to Apollo in his temple at Delphi, turnips were dedicated in lead, beet in silver, and radishes in wrought gold. The wild Radish is Raphanus raphanistrum. The garden Radish was not grown in England before 1548.
Later on John Evelyn wrote in his Acetaria: "And indeed (besides that they decay the teeth) experience tells us that, as the Prince of Physicians writes, it is hard of digestion, inimicous to the stomach, causing nauseous eructations, and sometimes vomiting, though [456] otherwise diuretic, and thought to repel the vapours of wine when the wits were at their genial club." "The Radish," says Gerard, "provoketh urine, and dissolveth cluttered sand."
The roots, which are the edible part, consist of a watery fibrous pulp, which is comparatively bland, and of an external skin furnished with a pungent volatile aromatic oil which acts as a condiment to the phlegmatic pulp. "Radishes are eaten with salt alone as carrying their pepper in them." The oil contained in the roots, and likewise in the seeds, is sulphuretted, and disagrees with persons of weak digestion. A young Radish, which is quickly grown and tender, will suit most stomachs, especially if some of the leaves are masticated together with the root; but a Radish which is tough, strong, and hollow, "fait penser a l'ile d'Elbe: il revient."
The pulp is chemically composed chiefly of nitrogenous substance, being fibrous and tough unless when the roots are young and quickly grown. On this account they should not be eaten when at all old and hard by persons of slow digestion, because apt to lodge in the intestines, and to become entangled in their caecal pouch, or in its appendix. But boiled Radishes are almost equal to asparagus when served at table, provided they have been cooked long enough to become tender, that is, for almost an hour. The syrup of radishes is excellent for hoarseness, bronchial difficulty of breathing, whooping cough, and other complaints of the chest.
For the cure of corns, if after the feet have been bathed, and the corns cut, a drop or two of juice be squeezed over the corn from the fresh pulp of a radish on several consecutive days, this will wither and [457] disappear. Also Radish roots sliced when fresh, and applied to a carbuncle will promote its healing. An old Saxon remedy against a woman's chatter was to "taste at night a root of Radish when fasting, and the chatter will not be able to harm him." In some places the Radish is called Rabone.
From the fresh plant, choosing a large Spanish Radish, with a turnip-shaped root, and a black outer skin, and collected in the autumn, a medicinal tincture (H.) is made with spirit of wine. This tincture has proved beneficial in cases of bilious diarrhoea, with eructations, and mental depression, when a chronic cough is also liable to be present. Four or five drops should be given with a tablespoonful of cold water, twice or three times in the day. The Black Radish is found useful against whooping cough, and is employed for this purpose in Germany, by cutting off the top, and then making a hole in the root. This is filled with treacle, or honey, and allowed to stand for a day or two; then a teaspoonful of the medicinal liquid is given two or three times in the day. Roman physicians advised that Radishes should be eaten raw, with bread and salt in the morning before any other food. And our poet Thomson describes as an evening repast:—
"A Roman meal
Such as the mistress of the world once found
Delicious, when her patriots of high note,
Perhaps by moonlight at their humble doors,
Under an ancient Oak's domestic shade,
Enjoy'd spare feast, a RADISH AND AN EGG."
RAGWORT.
The Ragwort (Senecio Jacoboea) is a very common plant in our meadows, and moist places, closely allied to the [458] Groundsel, and well known by its daisy-like flowers, but of a golden yellow colour, with rays in a circle surrounding the central receptacle, and with a strong smell of honey. This plant goes popularly by the name of St. James's wort, or Canker wort, or (near Liverpool) Fleawort, and in Yorkshire, Seggrum; also Jacoby and Yellow Top. The term Ragwort, or Ragweed, is a corruption of Ragewort, as expressing its supposed stimulating effects on the sexual organs. For the same reason the pommes d'amour (Love Apples, or Tomatoes) are sometimes caned Rage apples. The Ragwort was formerly thought to cure the staggers in horses, and was hence named Stagger wort, or because, says Dr. Prior, it was applied to heal freshly cut young bulls, known as Seggs, or Staggs. So also it was called St. James's wort, either because that great warrior and saint was the patron of horses, or because it blossoms on his day, July 25th: sometimes also the plant has been styled Stammer wort. Furthermore it possesses a distinct reputation for the cure of cancer, and is known as Cankerwort, being applied when bruised, either by itself, or combined with Goosegrass.
Probably the lime which the whole plant contains in a highly elaborated state of subdivision has fairly credited it with anti-cancerous powers. For just such a reason Sir Spencer Wens commended powdered egg shells and powdered oyster shells as efficacious in curing certain cases under his immediate observation of long-standing cancer, when steadily given for some considerable time.
A poultice made of the fresh leaves, and applied externally two or three times in succession "will cure, if ever so violent, the old ache in the hucklebone known as sciatica." Chemically the active principle of the [459] Ragwort is "senecin," a dark resinous substance, of which two grains may be given twice or three times in the day.
Also the tincture, made with one part of the plant to ten parts of spirit of wine (tenuior), may be taken in doses of from five to fifteen drops, with a spoonful of water three times in the day.
Either form of medicine will correct monthly irregularities of women where the period is delayed, or difficult, or arrested by cold. It must be given steadily three times a day for ten days or a fortnight before the period becomes re-established. In suitable cases the Senecio not only anticipates the period, but also increases the quantity: and where the monthly time has never been established the Ragwort is generally found useful.
This herb—like its congener, the common Groundsel—has lancinated, juicy leaves, which possess a bitter saline taste, and yield earthy potash salts abundantly. Each plant is named "Senecio" because of the grey woolly pappus of its seeds, which resemble the silvered hair of old age. In Ireland the Ragwort is dedicated to the fairies, and is known as the Fairies' Horse, on the golden blossoms of which the good little people are thought to gallop about at midnight.
RASPBERRY.
The Raspberry (Rubus Idoeus) occurs wild plentifully in the woods of Scotland, where children gather the fruit early in summer. It is also found growing freely in some parts of England—as in the Sussex woods—and bearing berries of as good a quality as that of the cultivated Raspberry, though not so large in size.
Another name for the fruit is Framboise, which is [460] a French corruption of the Dutch word brambezie, or brambleberry.
Again, the Respis, or Raspberry, was at one time commonly known in this country as Hindberry, or the gentler berry, as distinguished from one of a harsher and coarser sort, the Hartberry. "Respberry" signifies in the Eastern Counties of England a shoot, or sucker, this name being probably applied because the fruit grows on the young shoots of the previous year. Raspberry fruit is fragrant and cooling, but sugar improves its flavour. Like the strawberry, if eaten without sugar and cream, it does not undergo any acetous fermentation in the stomach, even with gouty or strumous persons. When combined with vinegar and sugar it makes a liqueur which, if diluted with water, is most useful in febrile disorders, and which is all excellent addition to sea stores as preventive of scurvy.
The Latins named this shrub "the bramble of Ida," because it grew in abundance on that classic mountain where the shepherd Paris adjudged to Venus the prize for beauty—a golden apple—on which was divinely inscribed the words, Detur pulchriori—"Let this be awarded to the fairest of womankind."
The fresh leaves of the Raspberry are the favourite food of kids. There are red, white, yellow, and purple varieties of this fruit. Heat develops the richness of its flavour; and Raspberry jam is the prince of preserves.
Again, a wine can be brewed from the fermented juice, which is excellent against scurvy because of its salts of potash—the citrate and malate.
Raspberry vinegar, made by pouring vinegar repeatedly over successive quantities of the fresh fruit, is a capital remedy for sore throat from cold, or of the [461] relaxed kind; and when mixed with water it furnishes a most refreshing drink in fevers. But the berries should be used immediately after being gathered, as they quickly spoil, and their fine flavour is very evanescent. The vinegar can be extemporised by diluting Raspberry jelly with hot vinegar, or by mixing syrup of the fruit with vinegar.
In Germany a conserve of Raspberries which has astringent effects is concocted with two parts of sugar to one of juice expressed from the fruit. Besides containing citric and malic acids, the Raspberry affords a volatile oil of aromatic flavour, with crystallisable sugar, pectin, colouring matter, mucus, some mineral salts, and water.
Gerard says: "The fruit is good to be given to them that have weake, and queasie stomackes."
A playful example of the declension of a Latin substantive is given thus:—
Musa, Musoe, The Gods were at tea: Musoe, Musam, Eating Raspberry jam: Musa, Musah, Made by Cupid's mamma.
RHUBARB (Garden). see Dock, page 159.
RICE.
Rice, or Ryse, the grain of Oryza sativa, a native cereal of India, is considered here scarcely as a Herbal Simple, but rather as a common article of some medicinal resource in the store cupboard of every English house-hold, and therefore always at band as a vegetable remedy.
Among the Arabs Rice is considered a sacred food: [462] and their tradition runs that it first sprang from a drop of Mahomet's perspiration in Paradise.
Being composed almost exclusively of starch, and poorer in nitrogen, as well as in phosphoric acid, than other cereals, it is less laxative, and is of value as a demulcent to palliate irritative diarrhoea, and to allay intestinal distress.
A mucilage of Rice made by boiling the well-washed grain for some time in water, and straining, contains starch and phosphate of lime in solution, and is therefore a serviceable emollient. But when needed for food the grain should be steamed, because in boiling it loses the little nitrogen, and the greater part of the lime phosphate which it has scantily contained.
Rice bread and Rice cakes, simply made, are very light and easy of digestion. The gluten confers the property of rising on dough or paste made of Rice flour. But as an article of sustenance Rice is not well suited for persons of fermentative tendencies during the digestion of their food, because its starch is liable to undergo this chemical change in the stomach.
Dr. Tytler reported in the Lancet (1833), cases resembling malignant cholera from what he termed the morbus oryzoeus, as provoked by the free and continued use of Rice as food. And Boutins, in 1769, published an account of the diseases common to the East Indies, in which he stated that when Rice is eaten more or less exclusively, the vision becomes impaired. But neither of these allegations seems to have been afterwards authoritatively confirmed.
Chemically, Rice consists of starch, fat, fibrin, mineral matter such as phosphate of lime, cellulose, and water.
A spirituous liquor is made in China from the grain of Rice, and bears the name "arrack."
[463] Rice cannot be properly substituted in place of succulent green vegetables dietetically for any length of time, or it would induce scurvy. The Indians take stewed Rice to cure dysentery, and a decoction of the grain for the purpose of subduing inflammatory disorders.
Paddy, or Paddee, is Rice from which the husk has not been removed before crushing. It has been said by some that the cultivation of Rice lowers vitality, and shortens life.
In Java a special Rice-pudding is made by first putting some raw Rice in a conical earthen pot wide at the top, and perforated in its body with holes. This is placed inside another earthen pot of a similar shape but not perforated, and containing boiling water. The swollen Rice soon stops up the holes of the inner pot, and the Rice within becomes of a firm consistence, like pudding, and is eaten with butter, sugar, and spices.
An ordinary Rice-pudding is much improved by adding some rosewater to it before it is baked.
This grain has been long considered of a pectoral nature, and useful for persons troubled with lung disease, and spitting of blood, as in pulmonary consumption. The custom of throwing a shower of Rice after and over a newly married couple is very old, though wheat was at first the chosen grain as an augury of plenty. The bride wore a garland of ears of corn in the time of Henry the Eighth.
ROSES.
Certain curative properties are possessed both by the Briar, or wild Dog Rose of our country hedges, and by the cultivated varieties of this queen of flowers in our Roseries. The word Rose means red, from the Greek [464] rodon, connected also with rota, a wheel, which resembles the outline of a Rose. The name Briar is from the Latin bruarium, the waste land on which it grows. The first Rose of a dark red colour, is held to have sprung from the blood of Adonis. The fruit of the wild Rose, which is so familiar to every admirer of our hedgerows in the summer, and which is the common progenitor of all Roses, is named Hips. "Heps maketh," says Gerard, "most pleasant meats or banquetting dishes, as tarts and such like, the concoction whereof I commit to the cunning cook, and teeth to eat them in the rich man's mouth."
Hips, derived from the old Saxon, hiupa, jupe, signifies the Briar rather than its fruit. They are called in some parts, "choops," or "hoops." The woolly down which surrounds the seeds within the Hips serves admirably for dispelling round worms, on which it acts mechanically without irritating the mucous membrane which lines the bowels.
When fully ripe and softened by frost, the Hips, after removal of their hard seeds, and when plenty of sugar is added, make a very nice confection, which the Swiss and Germans eat at dessert, and which forms an agreeable substitute for tomato sauce. Apothecaries employ this conserve in the preparing of electuaries, and as a basis for pills. They also officinally use the petals of the Cabbage Rose (Centifolia) for making Rose water, and the petals of the Red Rose (Gallica) for a cooling infusion, the brilliant colour of which is much improved by adding some diluted sulphuric acid; and of these petals they further direct a syrup to be concocted.
Next in development to the Dog Rose, or Hound's Rose, comes the Sweetbriar (Eglantine), with a delicate perfume contained under its glandular leaves. [465] "Fragrantia ejus olei omnia alia odoramenta superest." This (Rosa rubiginosa) grows chiefly on chalk as a bushy shrub. Its poetic title, Eglantine, is a corruption of the Latin aculeius, prickly. A legend tells that Christ's crown of thorns was made from the Rose-briar, about which it has been beautifully said:—
"Men sow the thorns on Jesus' brow,
But Angels saw the Roses."
Pliny tells a remarkable story of a soldier of the Praetorian guard, who was cured of hydrophobia, against all hope, by taking an extract of the root of the Kunoroddon, Dog Rose, in obedience to the prayer of his mother, to whom the remedy was revealed in a dream; and he says further, that it likewise restored whoever tried it afterwards. Hence came the title Canina. "Parceque elle a longtemps ete en vogue pour guerir de la rage."
But the term, Dog Rose, is generally thought to merely signify a flower of lower quality than the nobler Roses of garden culture.
The five graceful fringed leaflets which form the special beauty of the Eglantine flower and bud, have given rise to the following Latin enigma (translated):—
"Of us five brothers at the same time born,
Two from our birthday always beards have worn:
On other two none ever have appeared,
While our fifth brother wears but half a beard."
From Roses the Romans prepared wine and confections, also subtle scents, sweet-smelling oil, and medicines. The petals of the crimson French Rose, which is grown freely in our gardens, have been esteemed of signal efficacy in consumption of the lungs [466] since the time of Avicenna, A.D. 1020, who states that he cured many patients by prescribing as much of the conserve as they could manage to swallow daily. It was combined with milk, or with some other light nutriment; and generally from thirty to forty pounds of this medicine had to be consumed before the cure was complete. Julius Caesar hid his baldness at the age of thirty with Roman Roses.
"Take," says an old MS. recipe of Lady Somerset's, "Red Rose buds, and clyp of the tops, and put them in a mortar with ye waight of double refined sugar; beat them very small together, then put it up; must rest three full months, stirring onces a day. This is good against the falling sickness."
It is remarkable that while the blossoms of the Rose Order present various shades of yellow, white, and red, blue is altogether foreign to them, and unknown among them.
As the Thistle is symbolical of Scotland, the Leek of Wales, and the Shamrock of Ireland: so the sweet, pure, simple, honest Rose of our woods is the apt-chosen emblem of Saint George, and the frank, bonny, blushing badge of Merrie England.
The petals of the Cabbage Rose (Centifolia), which are closely folded over each other like the leaves of a cabbage, have a slight laxative action, and are used for making Rose-water by distillation, whether when fresh, or after being preserved by admixture with common salt. This perfumed water has long enjoyed a reputation for the cure of inflamed eyes, more commonly when combined with zinc, or with sugar of lead. Hahnemann quotes the same established practice as a tacit avowal that there exists in the leaves of the Rose some healing power for certain diseased conditions of [567] the eyes, which virtue is really founded on the homoeopathic property possessed by the Rose, of exciting a species of ophthalmia in healthy persons; as was observed by Echtius, Ledelius, and Rau.
It is recorded also in his Organon of Medicine, that persons are sometimes found to faint at the smell of Roses (or, as Pope puts it, to "die of a rose in aromatic pain"); whereas the Princess Maria, cured her brother, the Emperor Alexius, who suffered from faintings, by sprinkling him with Rose-water, in the presence of his aunt Eudoxia.
The wealthy Greeks and Romans strewed Roses on the tombs of departed friends, whilst poorer persona could only afford a tablet at the grave bearing the prayer:
"Sparge, precor, rosas super mea busta, viator."
"Scatter Roses, I beseech you, over my ashes, O pitiful passer-by."
But nowadays many persons have an aversion to throwing a Rose into a grave, or even letting one fall in.
Roses and reticence of speech have been linked together since the time of Harpocrates, whom Cupid bribed to silence by the gift of a golden Rose-bud; and therefore it became customary at Roman feasts to suspend over the table a flower of this kind as a hint that the convivial sayings which were then interchanged wore not to be talked of outside. What was spoken "sub vino" was not to be published "sub divo":
"Est rosa flos veneris, cujus quo facta laterent
Harpocrati, matris dona, dicavit amor:
Inde rosam mensis hospes suspendid amicis,
Conviva ut sub ea dicta tacenda sciat."
[468] For the same reason the Rose is found sculptured on the ceilings of banqueting rooms; and in 1526 it began to be placed over Confessionals. Thus it has come about that the Rose is held to be the symbol of secrecy, as well as the flower of love, and the emblem of beauty: so that the significant phrase "sub rosa,"—under the Rose,— conveys a recognised meaning, understood, and respected by everyone. The bed of Roses is not altogether a poetic fiction. In old days the Sybarites slept upon mattresses which were stuffed with Rose petals: and the like are now made for persons of rank on the Nile.
A memorial brass over the tomb of Abbot Kirton, in Westminster
Abbey, bears testimony to the high value he attached during life to
Roses curatively:—
"Sis, Rosa, flos florum, morbis medicina meoium."
Many country persons believe, that if Roses and Violets are plentiful in the autumn, some epidemic may be expected presently. But this conclusion must be founded like that which says, "a green winter makes a fat churchyard," on the fact that humid warmth continued on late in the year tends to engender putrid ferments, and to weaken the bodily vigour.
Attar of Roses is a costly product, because consisting of the comparatively few oil globules found floating on the surface of a considerable volume of Rose water thrice distilled. It takes five hundredweight of Rose petals to produce one drachm by weight of the finest Attar, which is preserved in small bottles made of rock crystal. The scent of the minutest particle of the genuine essence is very powerful and enduring:—
"You may break, you may ruin, the vase if you will,
But the scent of the Roses will hang round it still."
The inscription, Rosamundi, non Rosa munda, was graven on the tomb of fair Rosamund, the inamorata of Henry the Seventh:—
"Hic jacet in tomba Rosa Mundi, non Rosa munda;
Non redolet, sed olet quae redolere solet."
"Here Rose the graced, not Rose the chaste, reposes;
The smell that rises is no smell of Roses."
In Sussex, the peculiar excrescence which is often found on the Briar, as caused by the puncture of an insect, and which is known as the canker, or "robin redbreast's cushion," is frequently worn round the neck as a protective amulet against whooping cough. This was called in the old Pharmacopeias "Bedeguar," and was famous for its astringent properties. Hans Andersen names it the "Rose King's beard."
The Rosary was introduced by St. Dominick to commemorate his having been shown a chaplet of Roses by the Blessed Virgin. It consisted formerly of a string of beads made of Rose leaves tightly pressed into round moulds and strung together, when real Roses could not be had. The use of a chaplet of beads for recording the number of prayers recited is of Eastern origin from the time of the Egyptian Anchorites.
The Rock Rose (a Cistus), grows commonly in our hilly pastures on a soil of chalk, or gravel, bearing clusters of large, bright, yellow flowers, from a small branching shrub. These flowers expand only in the sunshine, and have stamens which, if lightly touched, spread out, and lie down on the petals. The plant proves medicinally useful, particularly if grown in a soil containing magnesia. A tincture is prepared (H.) from the whole plant, English or Canadian, which is useful for curing shingles, on the principle of its producing, when taken by healthy provers in doses of various [470] potencies, a cutaneous outbreak on the trunk of the body closely resembling the characteristic symptoms of shingles, whilst attended with nervous distress, and with much burning of the affected skin. The plant has likewise a popular reputation for healing scrofula, and its tincture is beneficial for reducing enlarged glands, as of the neck and throat; also for strumous swelling of the knee joint, as well as of other joints. It is a "helianthemum" of the Sunflower tribe.
The Canadian Rock Rose is called Frostwort and Frostweed, because crystals of ice shoot from the cracked bark below the stem during freezing weather in the autumn.
A decoction of our plant has proved useful in prurigo (itching), and as a gargle for the sore throat of scarlet fever. For shingles, from five to ten drops of the tincture, third decimal strength, should be given with a spoonful of water three times a day.