The true Maidenhair Fern (Adiantum capillus veneris), of exquisite foliage, and of a dark crimson colour, is a stranger in England, except in the West country. But we have in greater abundance the common Maidenhair (Asplenium trichomanes), which grows on old walls, and which will act as a laxative medicine; whilst idiots are said to have taken it remedially, so as to recover their senses. The true Maidenhair is named Adiantum, from the Greek: Quod denso imbre cadente destillans foliis tenuis non insidet humor, "Because the leaves are not wetted even by a heavily falling shower of rain." "In vain," saith Pliny, "do you plunge the Adiantum into water, it always remains dry." This veracious plant doth "strengthen and embellish the hair." It, occurs but rarely with us; on damp rocks, and walls near the sea. The Maidenhair is called Polytrichon because it brings forth a multitude of hairs; [189] Calitrichon because it produces black and faire hair; Capillus veneris because it fosters grace and love.
From its fine hairlike stems, and perhaps from its attributed virtues in toilet use, this Fern has acquired the name of "Our Lady's Hair" and "Maria's Fern." "The true Maidenhair," says Gerard, "maketh the hair of the head and beard to grow that is fallen and pulled off." From this graceful Fern a famous elegant syrup is made in France called Capillaire; which is given as a favourite medicine in pulmonary catarrh. It is flavoured with orange flowers, and acts as a demulcent with slightly stimulating effects. One part of the plant is gently boiled with ten parts of water, and with nineteen parts of white sugar. Dr. Johnson says Boswell used to put Capillaire into his port wine. Sir John Hill instructed us that (as we cannot get the true Maidenhair fresh in England) the fine syrup made in France from their Fern in perfection, concocted with pure Narbonne honey, is not by any means to be thought a trifle, because barley water, sweetened with this, is one of the very best remedies for a violent cold. But a tea brewed from our more common Maidenhair will answer the same purpose for tedious coughs. Its leaves are sweet, mucilaginous, and expectorant, being, therefore, highly useful in many pulmonary disorders.
The common Polypody Fern, or "rheum-purging Polypody" grows plentifully in this country on old walls and stumps of trees, in shady places. In Hampshire it is called "Adder's Tongue," as derived from the word attor, poison; also Wall-fern, and formerly in Anglo-Saxon Ever-fern, or Boar-fern. In Germany it is said to have sprung from the Virgin's milk, and is named Marie bregue. The fresh root has been used successfully in decoction, or powdered, for melancholia; [190] also of late for general rheumatic swelling of the joints. By the ancients it was employed as a purgative. Six drachms by weight of the root should be infused for two hours in a pint of boiling water, and given in two doses. This is the Oak Fern of the herbalists; not that of modern botanists (Polypodium dryopteris); it being held that such Fern plants as grew upon the roots of an oak tree were of special medicinal powers, Quod nascit super radices quercus est efficacius. The true Oak Fern (Dryopteris) grows chiefly in mountainous districts among the mossy roots of old oak trees, and sometimes in marshy places. If its root is bruised and applied to the skin of any hairy part, whilst the person is sweating, this will cause the hair to come away. Dioscorides said, "The root of Polypody is very good for chaps between the fingers." "It serveth," writes Gerard, "to make the belly soluble, being boiled in the broth of an old cock, with beets or mallows, or other like things, that move to the stool by their slipperiness." Parkinson says: "A dram or two, it need be, of the powdered dry roots taken fasting, in a cupful of honeyed water, worketh gently as a purge, being a safe medicine, fit for all persons and seasons, which daily experience confirmeth." "Applied also to the nose it cureth the disease called polypus, which by time and sufferance stoppeth the nostrils." The leaves of the Polypody when burnt furnish a large proportion of carbonate of Potash.
The Spleenwort (Asplenium ceterach—an Arabian term), or Scaly Fern, or Finger Fern, grows on old walls, and in the clefts of moist rocks. It is also called "Miltwaste," because supposed to cure disorders of the milt, or spleen:—
"The Finger Fern, which being given to swine,
It makes their milt to melt away in fine."
[191] Very probably this reputed virtue has mainly become attributed to the plant, because the lobular milt-like shape of its leaf resembles the form of the spleen. "No herbe maie be compared therewith," says one of the oldest Herbals, "for his singular virtue to help the sicknesse or grief of the splene." Pliny ordered: "It should not be given to women, because it bringeth barrenness." Vitruvius alleged that in Crete the flocks and herds were found to be without spleens, because they browsed on this fern. The plant was supposed when given medicinally to diminish the size of the enlarged spleen or "ague-cake."
The Wall Rue (Ruta muraria) is a white Maidenhair Fern, and is named by some Salvia vitoe. It is a small herb, somewhat nearly of the colour of Garden Rue, and is likewise good for them that have a cough, or are shortwinded, or be troubled with stitches in the sides. It stayeth the falling or shedding of the hair, and causeth them to grow thick, fair, and well coloured. This plant is held by those of judgment and experience, to be as effectual a capillary herb as any whatever. Also, it helpeth ruptures in children. Matthiolus "hath known of divers holpen therein by taking the powder of the herb in drink for forty days together." Its leaves are like those of Rue, and the Fern has been called Tentwort from its use as a specific or sovereign remedy for the cure of rickets, a disease once known as "the taint."
The generic appellations of the several species of Ferns are derived thus: Aspidium, from aspis, a shield, because the spores are enclosed in bosses; Pteris, from pteerux, a wing, having doubly pinnate fronds; or from pteron, a feather, having feathery fronds; Scolopendrium, because the fructification is supposed to resemble the feet of Scoltpendra, a genus of mydrapods; and Polypody, many footed, by reason of the pectinate fronds.
[192] There grows in Tartary a singular polypody Fern, of which the hairy foot is easily made to simulate in form a small sheep. It rises above the ground with excrescences resembling a head and tail, whilst having four leg-like fronds. Fabulous stories are told about this remarkable Fern root; and in China its hairy down is so highly valued as a styptic for fresh bleeding cuts and wounds, that few families will be without it. Dr. Darwin, in his Loves of the Plants, says about this curious natural production, the Polypodium Barometz:—
"Cradled in snow, and fanned by Arctic air
Shines, gentle Barometz, thy golden hair;
Rooted in earth each cloven hoof descends,
And found and round her flexile neck she bends:
Crops the green coral moss, and hoary thyme,
Or laps with rosy tongue the melting rime;
Eyes with mute tenderness her distant dam,
Or seems to bleat—a vegetable Lamb."
FEVERFEW.
The Feverfew is one of the wild Chamomiles (Pyrethrum Parthenium), or Matricaria, so called because especially useful for motherhood. Its botanical names come from the Latin febrifugus, putting fever to flight, and parthenos, a virgin. The herb is a Composite plant, and grows in every hedgerow, with numerous small heads of yellow flowers, having outermost white rays, but with an upright stem; whereas that of the true garden Chamomile is procumbent. The whole plant has a pungent odour, and is particularly disliked by bees. A double variety is cultivated in gardens for ornamental purposes.
The herb Feverfew is strengthening to the stomach, preventing hysteria and promoting the monthly functions of women. It is much used by country mediciners, though insufficiently esteemed by the doctors of to-day.
[193] In Devonshire the plant is known as "Bachelor's buttons," and at Torquay as "Flirtwort," being also sometimes spoken of as "Feathyfew," or "Featherfull."
Gerard says it may be used both in drinks, and bound on the wrists, as of singular virtue against the ague.
As "Feverfue," it was ordered, by the Magi of old, "to be pulled from the ground with the left hand, and the fevered patient's name must be spoken forth, and the herbarist must not look behind him." Country persons have long been accustomed to make curative uses of this herb very commonly, which grows abundantly throughout England. Its leaves are feathery and of a delicate green colour, being conspicuous even in mid-winter. Chemically, the Feverfew furnishes a blue volatile oil; containing a camphoraceous stearopten, and a liquid hydrocarbon, together with some tannin, and a bitter mucilage.
The essential oil is medicinally useful for correcting female irregularities, as well as for obviating cold indigestion. The herb is also known as "Maydeweed," because useful against hysterical distempers, to which young women are subject. Taken generally it is a positive tonic to the digestive and nervous systems. Out chemists make a medicinal tincture of Feverfew, the dose of which is from ten to twenty drops, with a spoonful of water, three times a day. This tincture, if dabbed oil the parts with a small sponge, will immediately relieve the pain and swelling caused by bites of insects or vermin. In the official guide to Switzerland directions are given to take "a little powder of the plant called Pyrethrum roseum and make it into a paste with a few drops of spirit, then apply this to the hands and face, or any exposed part of the body, and let it [194] dry: no mosquito or fly will then touch you." Or if two teaspoonfuls of the tincture are mixed with half a pint of cold water, and if all parts of the body likely to be exposed to the bites of insects are freely sponged therewith they will remain unassailed. Feverfew is manifestly the progenitor of the true Chamomilla (Anthemis nobilis), from which the highly useful Camomile "blows," so commonly employed in domestic medicine, are obtained, and its flowers, when dried, may be applied to the same purposes. An infusion of them made with boiling water and allowed to become cold, will allay any distressing sensitiveness to pain in a highly nervous subject, and will afford relief to the faceache or earache of a dyspeptic or rheumatic person. This Feverfew (Chrysanthemum parthenium), is best calculated to pacify those who are liable to sudden, spiteful, rude irascibility, of which they are conscious, but say they cannot help it, and to soothe fretful children. "Better is a dinner or such herbs, where love is; than a stalled ox, and hatred therewith."
FIGS.
"In the name of the Prophet 'Figs'" was the pompous utterance ascribed to Dr. Johnson, whose solemn magniloquent style was simulated as Eastern cant applied to common business in Rejected Addresses, by the clever humorists, Horace and James Smith, 1812. The tree which produces this fruit belongs to the history of mankind. In Paradise Adam partook of figs, and covered his nakedness with the leaves.
Though indigenous to Western Asia, Figs have been cultivated in most countries from a remote period, and will ripen in England during a warm summer if screened from north-east winds. The fig tree flourishes best with [195] us on our sea coasts, bathed by the English Channel, by reason of the salt-laden atmosphere. Near Gosport, and at Fig Valleys, in the neighbourhood of Worthing, there are orchards of figtrees; but they remain barren in this country as far as affording seed to be raised anew from the ripened fruit. The first figtrees introduced into England are still alive and productive in the gardens of the Archbishop of Canterbury, at Lambeth, having been planted there by Cardinal Pole in the time of Henry the Eighth. We call the Sunday before Easter "Fig Sunday," probably because of our Saviour's quest of the fruit when going from Bethany the next day.
By the Jews a want of blossom on the Fig tree was considered a grievous calamity. On the Saturday preceding Palm Sunday (says Miss Baker), the market at Northampton is abundantly supplied with figs, and more of the fruit is purchased at this time than throughout the rest of the year. Even charity children are regaled in some parts with figs on the said Sunday; whilst in Lancashire fig pies made of dried figs with sugar and treacle are eaten beforehand in Lent.
In order to become fertilised, figs (of which the sexual apparatus lies within the fruit) must have their outer skin perforated by certain gnats of the Cynips tribe, which then penetrate to the interior whilst carrying with them the fertilising pollen; but these gnats are not found in this country. Producers of the fruit abroad bearing the said fact in view tie some of the wild fruit when tenanted by the Culex fly to the young cultivated figs.
Foreign figs are dried in the oven so as to destroy the larvae of the Cynips insect, and are then compressed into small boxes. They consist in this state almost exclusively of mucilage and sugar.
[196] Only one kind of Fig comes to ripeness with us in England, the great blue Fig, as large as a Catherine pear. "It should be grown," says Gerard, "under a hot wall, and eaten when newly gathered, with bread, pepper, and salt; or it is excellent in tarts." This fruit is soft, easily digested, and corrective of strumous disease. Dried Turkey Figs, as imported, contain glucose (sugar), starch, fat, pectose, gum, albumen, mineral matter, collulose, and water. They are used by our druggists as an ingredient in confection of senna for a gentle laxative effect. When split open, and applied as hot as they can be borne against gumboils, and similar suppurative gatherings, they afford ease, and promote maturation of the abscess; and likewise they will help raw, unhealthy sores to heal. The first poultice of Figs on record is that employed by King Hezekiah 260 years before Christ, at the instance of the prophet Isaiah, who ordered to "take a lump of Figs; and they took it, and laid it on the boil, and the King recovered" (2 Kings xx. 7).
The Fig is said to have been the first fruit, eaten as food by man. Among the Greeks it formed part of the ordinary Spartan fare, and the Athenians forbade exportation of the best Figs, which were highly valued at table. Informers against those who offended in this respect were called Suko phantai, or Fig discoverers—our Sycophants.
Bacchus was thought to have acquired his vigour and corpulency from eating Figs, such as the Romans gave to professed wrestlers and champions for strength and good sustenance.
Dodonoeus said concerning Figs, Alimentum amplius quam coeteri proebent; and Pliny spoke of them as the best restorative for those brought low by languishing [197] disease, with loss of their colour. It was under the Perpul tree (Ficus religiosa) Buddha attained Nirvada.
The botanical name ficus has been derived from the Greek verb phuo to generate, and the husbandry of Figs was called by the Latins "caprification." The little fig-bird of the Roman Campagna pays a yearly visit in September to the fig orchards on our Sussex coast.
When eaten raw, dried Figs prove somewhat aperient, and they are apt to make the mouth sore whilst masticating them. Their seeds operate mechanically against constipation, though sometimes irritating the lining membrane of the stomach and bowels. Grocers prepare from the pulp of these foreign dried figs, when mixed with honey, a jam called "figuine," which is wholesome, and will prevent costiveness if eaten at breakfast with bread.
The pulp of Turkey Figs is mucilaginous, and has been long esteemed as a pectoral emollient for coughs: also when stewed and, added to ptisans, for catarrhal troubles of the air passages, and of other mucous canals.
In its fresh green state the fruit secretes a mildly acrid juice, which will destroy warts; this afterwards becomes saccharine and oily. The dried Figs of the shops give no idea of the fresh fruit as enjoyed in Italy at breakfast, which then seem indeed a fruit of paradise, and which contain a considerable quantity of grape sugar. In the Regimen of the School of Salerno (eleventh century) we read:—
"Scrofa, tumor, glandes, ficus cataplasma sedet,
Swines' evil, swellings, kernels, a plaster of figs will heal."
Barley water boiled with dried Figs (split open), liquorice root, and raisins, forms the compound decoction of barley prescribed by doctors as a capital demulcent; [198] and an admirable gargle for inflamed sore throat may be made by boiling two ounces of the Figs in half-a-pint of water, which is to be strained when cool. Figs cooked in milk make an excellent drink for costive persons.
In the French codex a favourite pectoral medicine is composed of
Figs, stoned dates, raisins, and jujubes.
Formerly the poisoned Fig was used in Spain as a secret means for getting rid of an enemy. The fruit was so common there that to say "a fig for you!" and "I give you the fig" became proverbial expressions of contempt. In fiocchi (in gala costome), is an Italian phrase which we now render as "in full fig."
The Water Figwort, a common English plant which grows by the sides of ditches, and belongs to the scrofula-curing order, has acquired its name because supposed to heal sores in the fundament when applied like figs as a poultice. It further bears the name of Water Betony (page 50), under which title its curative excellence against piles, and for scrofulous glands in the neck has been already described. The whole plant, yielding its juice, may be blended with lard to be used as an ointment; and an infusion of the roots, made with boiling water, an ounce to a pint, may be taken as a medicine—a wineglassful three times in the day.
In Ireland it is known as "Rose noble," also as Kernelwort, because the kernels, or tubers attached to the roots have been thought to resemble scrofulous glands in the neck. "Divers do rashly teach that if it be hanged about the necke, or else carried about one it keepeth a man in health." In France the sobriquet herbe du seige, given to this plant, is said to have been derived from its famous use in healing all sorts of wounds during the long siege of Rochelle under Louis XIII.
[199] The Water Figwort may be readily known by the winged corners of its stems, which, though hollow and succulent, are rigid when dead, and prove very troublesome to anglers. The flowers are much frequented by wasps: and the leaves are employed to correct the taste of senna.
FLAG (Common).
Our English water Flags are true whigs of the old school, and get their generic name because hanging out their banners respectively of dark blue and yellow.
Each is also called Iris, as resembling the rainbow in beauty of colour. The land Flag (Iris versicolor) is well known as growing in swamps and moist meadows, with sword-shaped leaves, and large purple heads of flowers, bearing petals chiefly dark blue, and veined with green, yellow, or white. The water Flag (Iris pseudacorus) is similar of growth, and equally well known by its brilliant heads of yellow flowers, with blade-like leaves, being found in wet places and water courses. The root of the Blue Flag, "Dragon Flower," or "Dagger Flower," contains chemically an "oleo-resin," which is purgative to the liver in material doses, and specially alleviative against bilious sickness when taken of much reduced strength by reason of its acting as a similar. The official dose of this "iridin" is from one to three grains. A liability to the formation of gall stones may be remedied by giving one grain of the oleoresin (iridin) every night for twelve nights.
A medicinal tincture (H.) is made which holds this Iris in solution; and if three or four drops are taken immediately, with a spoonful of water, and the same dose is repeated in half-an-hour if still necessary, an attack of bilious vomiting, with sick headache, and a [200] film before the eyes, will be prevented, or cut short. The remedy is, under such circumstances, a trustworthy substitute for calomel, or blue pill. Orris powder, which is so popular in the nursery, and for the toilet table with ladies, on account of its fresh "violet" scent, is made from the root of this Iris, being named from the genitive ireos.
Louis VII. of France chose this Blue Flag as his heraldic emblem, and hence its name, fleur de lys, has been subsequently borne on the arms of France. The flower was said to have been figured on a shield sent down from heaven to King Louis at Clovis, when fighting against the Saracens. Fleur de Louis has become corrupted to fleur de lys, or fleur de lis.
The Purple Flag was formerly dedicated to the Virgin Mary. A certain knight more devout than learned could never remember more than two words of the Latin prayer addressed to the Holy Mother; these were Ave Maria, which the good old man repeated day and night until he died. Then a plant of the blue Iris sprang up over his grave, displaying on every flower in golden letters these words, Ave Maria. When the monks opened the tomb they found the root of the plant resting on the lips of the holy knight whose body lay buried below.
The Yellow Flag, or Water Flag, is called in the north, "Seggs." Its flowers afford a beautiful yellow dye; and, its seeds, when roasted, can be used instead of coffee. The juice of the root is very acrid when sniffed up the nostrils, and causes a copious flow of water therefrom, thus giving marked relief for obstinate congestive headache of a dull, passive sort. The root is very astringent, and will check diarrhoea by its infusion; also it is of service for making ink. In the [201] south of England the plant is named "Levers." It contains much tannin.
The "Stinking Flag," or "Gladdon," or "Roast Beef," because having the odour of this viand, is another British species of Flag, abundant in southern England, where it grows in woods and, shady places. Its leaves, when bruised, emit a strong smell like that of carrion, which is very loathsome. The plant bears the appellations, Iris foetidissima, Spatual foetida, and "Spurgewort," having long, narrow leaves, which stink when rubbed. Country folk in Somersetshire purge themselves to good purpose with a decoction made from the root. The term "glad," or "smooth," refers to the surface of the leaves, or to their sword-like shape, from gladiolus (a small sword), and the plant bears flowers of a dull, livid purple, smaller than those of the other flags.
Lastly, there is the Sweet Flag (Acorus calamus), though this is not an Iris, but belongs botanically to the family of Arums. It grows on the edges of lakes and streams allover Europe, as a highly aromatic, reedy plant, with an erect flowering stem of yellowish green colour. Its name comes from the Greek, koree, or "pupil of the eye," because of its being used in ailments of that organ.
Calamus was the Roman term for a reed; and formerly this sweet Flag, by reason of its pleasant odour like that of violets, was freely strewn on the floor of a cathedral at times of church festivals, and in many private houses instead of rushes. The root is a powerful cordial against flatulence, and passive indigestion, with headache. It contains a volatile oil, and a bitter principle, "acorin;" so that a fluid extract is made by the chemists, of which from thirty to forty drops may be given as a dose, with a [202] tablespoonful, of water, every half-hour for several consecutive times. The candied root is much employed for like uses in Turkey and India. It is sold as a favourite medicine in every Indian Bazaar; and Ainslie says it is reckoned so valuable in the bowel complaints of children, that there is a penalty incurred by every druggist who will not open his door in the middle of the night to sell it if demanded.
The root stocks are brought to this country from Germany, being used by mastication to cleat the urine when it is thick and loaded with dyspeptic products; also for flavouring beer, and scenting snuff.
Their ash contains potash, soda, zinc, phosphoric Acid, silica, and peroxide of iron. In the Times April 24th, 1856, Dr. Graves wrote commending for the soldiers when landing at Galipoli, and notable to obtain costly quinine, the Sweet Flag—acorus calamas—as their sheet anchor against ague and allied maladies arising from marsh miasmata. The infusion of the root should be given, or the powdered root in doses of from ten to sixty grains. (See RUSHES.)
FLAX (LINSEED).
The common Flax plant, from which we get our Linseed, is of great antiquity, dating from the twenty-third century before Christ, and having been cultivated in all countries down to the present time. But it is exhausting to the soil in England, and therefore not favoured in home growth for commercial uses. The seeds come to us chiefly from the Baltic. Nevertheless, the plant (Linum usitatissimum) is by no means uncommon in our cornfields, flowering in June, and ripening its seed in September. Provincially it is called "Lint" and "Lyne." A rustic proverb says "if put in the shoes it preserves [203] from poverty"; wherever found it is probably an escape from cultivation.
The word "flax" is derived from filare, to spin, or, filum, a thread; and the botanical title, linum, is got from the Celtic lin also signifying thread. The fibres of the bark are separated from the woody matter by soaking it in water, and they then form tow, which is afterwards spun into yarn, and woven into cloth. This water becomes poisonous, so that Henry the Eighth prohibited the washing of flax in any running stream.
The seeds ate very rich in linseed oil, after expressing which, the refuse is oil-cake, a well-known fattening food for cattle. The oil exists chiefly in the outer skins of the seeds, and is easily extracted by boiling water, as in the making a linseed poultice. These seeds contain gum, acetic acid, acetate and muriate of potash, and other salts, with twenty-two parts per cent. of the oil. They were taken as food by the ancient Greeks and Romans, whilst Hippocrates knew the demulcent properties of linseed. An infusion of the seeds has long been given as Linseed tea for soothing a sore chest or throat in severe catarrh, or pulmonary complaints; also the crushed seed is used for making poultices. Linseed oil has laxative properties, and forms, when mixed with lime water, or with spirit of turpentine, a capital external application to recent burns or scalds.
Tumours of a simple nature, and sprains, may be usefully rubbed with Linseed oil; and another principal service to which the oil is put is for mixing the paints of artists. To make Linseed tea, wash two ounces of Linseed by putting them into a small strainer, and pouring cold water through it; then pare off as thinly as possible the yellow rind of half a lemon; to the Linseed and lemon rind add a quart of cold water, [204] and allow them to simmer over the fire for an hour-and-a-half; strain away the seeds, and to each half-pint of the tea add a teaspoonful of sugar, or sugar candy, with some lemon juice, in the proportion of the juice of one lemon to each pint of tea.
The seeds afford but little actual nourishment, and are difficult of digestion; they provoke troublesome flatulence, though sometimes used fraudulently for adulterating pepper. Flax seed has been mixed with corn for making bread, but it proved indigestible and hurtful to the stomach. In the sixteenth century during a scarcity of wheat, the inhabitants of Middleburgh had recourse to Linseed for making cakes, but the death of many citizens was caused thereby, it bringing about in those who partook of the cakes dreadful swellings on the body and face. There is an Act of Parliament still in force which forbids the steeping of Flax in rivers, or any waters which cattle are accustomed to drink, as it is found to communicate a poison destructive to cattle and to the fish inhabiting such waters. In Dundee a hank of yarn is worn round the loins as a cure for lumbago, and girls may be seen with a single thread of yarn round the head as an infallible specific for tic douloureux.
The Purging Flax (Linum catharticum), or Mill Mountain (Kamailinon), or Ground Flax, is a variety of the Flax common on our heaths and pastures, being called also Fairy Flax from its delicacy, and Dwarf Flax. It contains a resinous, purgative principle, and is known to country folk as a safe, active purge. They infuse the herb in water, which they afterwards take medicinally. Also a tincture is made (H.) from the entire fresh plant, which may be given curatively for frequent, wattery, painless diarrhoea, two or three [205] drops for a dose with water every hour or two until the flux is stayed.
FOXGLOVE.
The purple Foxglove (Digitalis purpurea) which every one knows and admires for its long graceful spikes of elegant bell-shaped brilliant blossoms seen in our woods and hedges, is also called the Thimble Flower, or the Finger Flower, from the resemblance of these blossoms to a thimble or to the fingers of a glove. The word digitalis refers likewise to the digits, or fingers of a gauntlet. In France the title is Gants de Notre Dame, the gloves of our Lady the Virgin. Some writers give Folks' Glove, or Fairies' Glove as the proper English orthography, but this is wrong. Our name of the plant comes really from the Anglo-Saxon, Foxesglew or Fox music, in allusion to an ancient musical instrument composed of bells which were hanging from an arched support, a tintinnabulum, which this plant with its pendent bell-shaped flowers so exactly represents.
In Ireland the Foxglove is known as the Great Herb, and Lusmore, also the Fairy Cap; and in Wales it is the Goblin's Gloves; whilst in the North of Scotland it is the Dead men's Bells. We read in the Lady of the Lake there grew by Loch Katrine:—
"Night shade and Foxglove side by side,
Emblems of punishment and pride."
In Devonshire the plant is termed Poppy, because when one of the bell-shaped flowers is inflated by the breath whilst the top edges are held firmly together; the wind bag thus formed, if struck smartly against the other hand, goes off with a sounding pop. The peasantry also call it "Flop a dock." Strangely enough, the Foxglove, so handsome and striking in a landscape, is not [206] mentioned by Shakespeare, or by either of the old English poets. The "long purples" of Shakespeare refers to the orchis mascula.
Chemically, the Foxglove contains a dangerous, active, medicinal principle digitalin, which acts powerfully on the heart, and on the kidneys, but this should never be given in any preparation of the plant except under medical guidance, and then only with much caution. Parkinson speaks highly of the bruised herb, or of its expressed juice, for scrofulous swellings when applied outwardly in the form of an ointment. An officinal tincture is made from the plants collected in the spring, when two years old; also, in some villages the infusion is employed as a homely remedy to cure a cold, the herb being known as "Throttle Wort;" but this is not a safe thing to do, for medical experience shows that the watery infusion of Foxglove acts much more powerfully than the spirituous tincture, which is eight times stronger, and from this fact it may fairly be inferred that the presence of alcohol, as in the tincture, directly opposes the specific action of the plant. This herb bears further in some districts the names "Flop Top," "Cow Flop," and "Flabby Dock." It was stated in the Times Telescope, 1822, "the women of the poorer class in Derbyshire used to indulge in copious draughts of Foxglove tea, as a cheap means of obtaining the pleasures of intoxication. This was found to produce a great exhilaration of the spirits, with other singular effects on the system." So true is the maxim, ubi virus, ibi virtus.
No animal will touch the plant, which is biennial, and will only develop its active principle digitalin, when getting some sunshine, but remains inert when grown altogether in the shade. Therefore its source of production for medicinal purposes is very important.
[207] FUMITORY.
The common Fumitory (Fumaria officinalis) is a small grey-green plant, bearing well known little flowers, rose coloured, and tipped with purple, whilst standing erect in every cornfield, vineyard, or such-like manured place throughout Great Britain. It is so named from the Latin fumus terroe, earth smoke, which refers either to the appearance of its pretty glaucous foliage on a dewy summer morning, or to the belief that it was produced not from seed but from vapours rising out of the earth. The plant continues to flower throughout the year, and was formerly much favoured for making cosmetic washes to purify the skin of rustic maidens in the spring time:—
"Whose red and purpled mottled flowers
Are cropped by maids in weeding hours
To boil in water, milk, or whey,
For washes on a holiday;
To make their beauty fair and sleek,
And scare the tan from summer's cheek."
In many parts of Kent the Fumitory bears the name of "Wax Dolls," because its rose coloured flowers, with their little, dark, purple heads, are by no means unlike the small waxen toys given as nurslings to children.
Dioscorides affirmed: "The juice of Fumitory, of that which groweth among barley, with gum arabic, doth take away unprofitable hairs that prick, being first plucked away, for it will not suffer others to grow in their places." "It helpeth," says Gerard, "in the summer time those that are troubled with scabs."
Pliny said it is named because causing the eyes to water as smoke does. In Shakespeare the name is written Fumiter. It continues to flower throughout the year, and its presence is thought to indicate good deep rich land. There is also a "ramping" Fumitory [208] (capreolata) which climbs; being found likewise in fields and waste places, but its infusion produces purgative effects.
The whole plant has a saline, bitter, and somewhat acrid taste. It contains "fumaric acid," and the alkaloid "fumarina," which are specially useful for scrofulous diseases of the skin. A decoction of the herb makes a curative lotion for the milk-crust which disfigures the scalp of an infant, and for grown up persons troubled with chronic eruptions on the face, or freckles.
The fresh juice may be given as a medicine; or an infusion made with an ounce of the plant to a pint of boiling water, one wineglassful for a dose twice or three times in the day.
By the ancients Fumitory was named Capnos, smoke: Pliny wrote "Claritatem facit inunctis oculis delachrymationemque, ceu fumus, unde nomen." They esteemed the herb specially useful for dispelling dimness of the sight, and for curing other infirmities of the eyes.
The leaves, which have no particular odour, throw up crystals of nitre on their surface when cool. The juice may be mixed with whey, and taken as a common drink, or as a medicinal beverage for curing obstinate skin eruptions, and for overcoming obstructions of the liver and digestive organs. Dr. Cullen found it most useful in leprous skin disease. The juice from the fresh herb may be given two ounces in the day, but the virtues remain equally in the dried plant. Its smoke was said by the ancient exorcists to have the power of expelling evil spirits. The famous physician, John of Milan, extolled Fumitory as a sovereign remedy against malarious fever.
It is a remarkable fact, that the colour of the hair and the complexion seem to determine the liability, or [209] otherwise, of a European to West Coast fever in Africa. A man with harsh, bright-coloured red hair, such as is common in Scotland, has a complete immunity, though running the same risks as another mall, dark and with a dry skin, who seems absolutely doomed. A red-haired European will, as a rule, keep his health where even the natives are attacked. Old negresses have secret methods of cure which can, undoubtedly, save life even in cases which have become hopeless to European medical science.
GARLIC, LEEK, and ONION.
Seeming at first sight out of place among the lilies of the field, yet Garlic, the Leek, and the Onion are true members of that noble order, and may be correctly classified together with the favoured tribe, "Clothed more grandly than Solomon in all his glory." They possess alike the same properties and characteristics, though in varying degrees, and they severally belong to the genus Allium, each containing "allyl," which is a radical rich in sulphur.
The homely Onion may be taken first as the best illustration of the family. This is named technically Allium cepa, from cep, a head (of bunched florets which it bears). Lucilius called it Flebile coepe, because the pungency of its odour will provoke a flow of tears from the eyes. As Shakespeare says, in Taming of the Shrew:—
"Mine eyes smell onions;
I shall weep anon."
The Egyptians were devoted to Onions, which they ate more than two thousand years before the time of Christ. They were given to swear by the Onion and [210] Garlic in their gardens. Herodotus tells us that during the building of the pyramids nine tons of gold were spent in buying onions for the workmen. But it is to be noted that in Egypt the Onion is sweet and soft; whereas, in other countries it grows hard, and nauseous, and strong.
By the Greeks this bulb was called Krommuon, "apo tau Meuein tas koras," because of shutting the eyes when eating it. In Latin its name unio, signified a single root without offsets.
Raw Onions contain an acrid volatile oil, sulphur, phosphorus, alkaline earthy salts, phosphoric and acetic acids, with phosphate and citrate of lime, starch, free uncrystallized sugar, and lignine. The fresh juice is colourless, but by exposure to the air becomes red. A syrup made from the juice with honey is an excellent medicine for old phlegmatic persons in cold weather, when their lungs are stuffed, and the breathing is hindered.
Raw Onions increase the flow of urine, and promote perspiration, insomuch, that a diet of them, with bread, has many a time cured dropsy coming on through a chill at first, or from exposure to cold. They contain the volatile principle, "sulphide of allyl," which is acrid and stimulating. If taken in small quantities, Onions quicken the circulation, and assist digestion; but when eaten more prodigally they disagree.
In making curative Simples, the Onion (and Garlic) should not be boiled, else the volatile essential oil, on which its virtues chiefly depend, will escape during the process.
The principal internal effects of the Onion, the Leek, and Garlic, are stimulation and warmth, so that they are of more salutary use when the subject is of a cold [211] temperament, and when the vital powers are feeble, than when the body is feverish, and the constitution ardently excitable. "They be naught," says Gerard, "for those that be cholericke; but good for such as are replete with raw and phlegmatick humors." Vous tous qui etes gros, et gras, et lymphatiques, avec l'estomac paresseux, mangez l'oignon cru; c'est pour vous que le bon Dieu l'a fait.
Onions, when eaten at night by those who are not feverish, will promote sleep, and induce perspiration. The late Frank Buckland confirmed this statement. He said, "I am sure the essential oil of Onions has soporific powers. In my own case it never fails. If I am much pressed with work, and feel that I am not disposed to sleep, I eat two or three small Onions, and the effect is magical." The Onion has a very sensitive organism, and absorbs all morbid matter that comes in its way. During our last epidemic of cholera it puzzled the sanitary inspectors of a northern town why the tenants of one cottage in an infected row were not touched by the plague. At last some one noticed a net of onions hanging in the fortunate house, and on examination all these proved to have become diseased. But whilst welcoming this protective quality, the danger must be remembered of eating an onion which shows signs of decay, for it cannot be told what may have caused this distemper.
When sliced, and applied externally, the raw Onion serves by its pungent and essential oil to quicken the circulation, and to redden the skin of the particular surface treated in this way; very usefully so in the case of an unbroken chilblain, or to counteract neuralgic pain; but in its crude state the bulb is not emollient or demulcent. If employed as a poultice for ear-ache, or broken chilblains, the Onion should be roasted, so as to [212] modify its acrid oil. When there is a constant arid painful discharge of fetid matter from the ear, or where an abscess is threatened, with pain, heat, and swelling, a hot poultice of roasted Onions will be found very useful, and will mitigate the pain. The juice of a sliced raw Onion is alkaline, and will quickly relieve the acid venom of a sting from a wasp, or bee, if applied immediately to the part.
A tincture is made (H.) from large, red, strong Onions for medicinal purposes. As a warming expectorant in chronic bronchitis, or asthma, or for a cold which is not of a feverish character, from half to one teaspoonful of this tincture may be given with benefit three or four times in the day in a wineglassful of hot water, or hot milk. Likewise, a jorum (i.e., an earthen bowl) of hot Onion broth taken at bedtime, serves admirably to soothe the air passages, and to promote perspiration; after the first feverish stage of catarrh or influenza has passed by. To make this, peel a large Spanish Onion, and divide it into four parts; then put them into a saucepan, with half a saltspoonful of salt, and two ounces of butter, and a pint of cold water; let them simmer gently until quite tender; next pour all into a bowl which has been made hot, dredging a little pepper over; and let the porridge be eaten as hot as it can be taken.
The allyl and sulphur in the bulbs, together with their mucilaginous parts, relieve the sore mucous membranes, and quicken perspiration, whilst other medicinal virtues are exercised at the same time on the animal economy.
By eating a few raw parsley sprigs immediately afterwards, the strong smell which onions communicates to the breath may be removed and dispelled. Lord [213] Bacon averred "the rose will be sweeter if planted in a bed of onions." So nutritious does the Highlander find this vegetable, that, if having a few raw bulbs in his pocket, with oat-cake, or a crust of bread, he can travel for two or three days together without any other food. Dean Swift said:—
"This is every cook's opinion,
No savoury dish without an onion,
But lest your kissing should be spoiled,
Your onions must be fully boiled."
Provings have been made by medical experts of the ordinary red Onion in order to ascertain what its toxical effects are when pushed to an excessive degree, and it has been found that Onions, Leeks, or Garlic, when taken immoderately, induce melancholy and depression, with severe catarrh. They dispose to sopor, lethargy, and even insanity. The immediate symptoms are extreme watering of the eyes after frequent sneezing, confusion of the head, and heavy defluxion from the nose, with pains in the throat extending to the ears; in a word, all the accompaniments of a bad cold, sneezings, lacrymation, pains in the forehead, and a hoarse, hacking cough. These being the effects of taking Onions in a harmful quantity, it is easy to understand that when the like morbid symptoms have arisen spontaneously from other causes, as from a sharp catarrh of the head and chest, then modified forms of the Onion are calculated to counteract them on the law of similars, so that a cure is promptly produced. On which principle the Onion porridge is a scientific remedy, as food, and as Physic, during the first progress of a catarrhal attack, and pari passu the medicinal tincture of the red Onion may be likewise curatively given.
[214] Spanish Onions, which are imported into this country in the winter, are sweet and mucilaginous. A peasant in Spain will munch an onion just as an English labourer eats an apple.
At the present day Egyptians take onions, roasted, and each cut into four pieces, with small bits of baked meat, and slices of an acid apple, which the Turks call kebobs. With this sweet and savoury dish they are so delighted, that they trust to enjoy it in paradise. The Israelites were willing to return to slavery and brick-making for their love of the Onion; and we read that Hecamedes presented some of the bulbs to Patrochus, in Homer, as a regala. These are supplied liberally to the antelopes and giraffes in our Zoological Gardens, which animals dote on the Onion.
A clever paraprase of the word Onion may be read in the lines:—
"Charge! Stanley, charge! On! Stanley, on!
Were the last words of Marmion.
If I had been in Stanley's place
When Marmion urged him to the chase,
In me you quickly would descry
What draws a tear from many an eye."
For chilblains apply onions with salt pounded together, and for inflamed or protruding piles, raw Onion pulp, made by bruising the bulb, if kept bound to the parts by a compress, and renewed as needed, will afford certain relief.
The Garlic (Allium sativum), Skorodon of the Greeks, which was first cultivated in English gardens in 1540, takes its name, from gar, a spear; and leac, a plant, either because of its sharp tapering leaves, or perhaps as "the war plant," by reason of its nutritive and stimulating qualities for those who do battle. It is known also [215] to many as "Poor-man's Treacle," or "Churls Treacle," from being regarded by rustics as a treacle, or antidote to the bite of any venomous reptile.
The bulb, consisting of several combined cloves, is stimulating, antispasmodic, expectorant, and diuretic. Its active properties depend on an essential oil which may be readily obtained by distillation. A medicinal tincture is made (H.) with spirit of wine, of which from ten to twenty drops may be taken in water several times a day. Garlic proves useful in asthma, whooping-cough, and other spasmodic affections of the chest. For all adult, one or more cloves may be eaten at a time. The odour of the bulb is very diffusible, even when it is applied to the soles of the feet its odour is exhaled by the lungs.
When bruised and mixed with lard, it makes a most useful opbdeldoc to be rubbed in for irritable spines of indolent scrofulous tumours or gout, until the skin surface becomes red and glowing. If employed thus over the chest (back and front) of a child with whooping-cough, it proves eminently helpful.
Raw Garlic, when applied to the skin, reddens it, and the odour sniffed into the nostrils will revive an hysterical sufferer. It formed the principal ingredient in the "Four thieves' vinegar," which was adopted so successfully at Marseilles for protection against the plague, when prevailing there. This originated with four thieves, who confessed that, whilst protected by the liberal use of aromatic vinegar during the plague, they plundered the dead bodies of its victims with complete security. Or, according to another explanation of the name, an old tract, printed in 1749, testifies that one, Richard Forthave, who lived in Bishopsgate Street, invented and sold a vinegar which had such a run that [216] he soon grew famous, and that his surname became thus corrupted in the course of time.
But long before the plague at Marseilles (1722) vinegar was employed as a disinfectant. With Cardinal Wolsey it was a constant custom to carry in his hand an orange emptied of its pulp, and containing a sponge soaked in vinegar made aromatic with spices, so as to protect himself from infection when passing through the crowds which his splendour and his office attracted.
It is related that during a former outbreak of infectious fever in Somer's Town and St. Giles's, the French priests, who constantly used Garlic in all their dishes, visited the worst cases in the dirtiest hovels with impunity, while the English clergy, who were similarly engaged, but who did not eat onions in like fashion, caught the infection in many instances, and fell victims to the disease.
For toothache and earache, a clove of Garlic stripped of its skin, and cut in the form of a suppository, if thrust in the ear of the aching side, will soon assuage the pain. If introduced into the lower bowel, it will help to destroy thread worms, and when swallowed it abolishes round worms.
As a condiment, Garlic undoubtedly aids digestion by stimulating the circulation, with a consequent increase of saliva and gastric juice. The juice from the bulbs can be employed for cementing broken glass or china, by means of its mucilage.
Dr. Bowles, a noted English physician of former times, made use of Garlic with much success as a secret remedy for asthma. He concocted a preserve from the boiled cloves with vinegar and sugar, to be kept in an earthen jar. The dose was a bulb or two with some of the syrup, each morning when fasting. [217] The pain of rheumatic parts may be much relieved by simply rubbing them with cut Garlic.
Garlic emits the most acrimonious smell of all the onion tribe. When leprosy prevailed in this country, Garlic was a prime specific for its relief, and as the victims had to "pil," or peel their own garlic, they were nicknamed "Pil Garlics," and hence it came about that anyone shunned like a leper had this epithet applied to him. Stow says, concerning a man growing old: "He will soon be a peeled garlic like myself."
The strong penetrating odour and taste of this plant, though offensive to most English palates, are much relished by Russians, Poles, and Spaniards, and especially by the Jews. But the Greeks detested Garlic. It is true the Attic husbandmen ate it from remote times, probably in part to drive away by its odour venomous creatures from assailing them; but persons who partook of it were not allowed to enter the temples of Cybele, says Athenaeus; and so hated was garlic, that to have to eat it was a punishment for those that had committed the most horrid crimes; Horace, among the Romans, was made ill by eating garlic at the table of Maecenas; and afterwards (in his third Epode) he reviled the plant as, Cicutis allium nocentius, "Garlic more poisonous than hemlock." Sir Theodore Martin has thus spiritedly translated the passage:—
"If his old father's throat any impious sinner,
Has cut with unnatural hand to the bone:
Give him garlick—more noxious than hemlock—at dinner;
Ye gods! what strong stomachs the reapers must own!"
The singular property is attributed to Garlic, that if a morsel of the bulb is chewed by a man running a race, it will prevent his competitors from getting ahead of him. Hungarian jockeys sometimes fasten a clove of [218] garlic to the bits of their racers; and it is said that the horses which run against those thus baited, fall back the moment they smell the offensive odour. If a leg of mutton, before being roasted, has a small clove of Garlic inserted into the knuckle, and the joint is afterwards served with haricot beans (soaked for twenty-four hours before being boiled), it is rendered doubly delicious. In Greece snails dressed with Garlic are now a favourite dish.
A well known chef is said to have chewed a small clove of Garlic when he wished to impart its delicate flavour to a choice plat, over which he then breathed lightly. Dumas relates that the whole atmosphere of Provence is impregnated with the perfume of Garlic, and is exceedingly wholesome to inhale.
As an instance of lunar influences (which undoubtedly affect our bodily welfare), it is remarkable that if Garlic is planted when the moon is in the full, the bulb will be round like an onion, instead of being composed, as it usually is, of several distinct cloves.
Homer says it was to the virtues of the Yellow Garlic (Moly?) Ulysses owed his escape from being changed by Circe into a pig, like each of his companions.
The Crow Garlic, vineale, and the purple striped, oleraceum, grow wild in this country. When the former of these is eaten by birds it so stupefies them that they may be taken with the hand.
Concerning the cure of nervous headache by Garlic (and its kindred medicinal herb Asafoetida), an old charm reads thus:—
"Give onyons to Saynt Cutlake,
And Garlycke to Saynt Cyryake;
If ye will shun the headake,
Ye shall have them at Queenhyth."
The Asafoetida (Ferula Asafoetida) grows in Western Thibet, and exudes a gum which is used medicinally, coming as a milky juice from the incised root and soon coagulating; it is then exported, having a very powerful odour of garlic which may be perceived a long distance away. Phosphorus and sulphur are among its constituent elements, and, because of the latter, says Dr. Garrod after much observation, he regards Asafoetida as one of the most valuable remedies known to the physician. From three to five grains of the gum in a pill, or half-a-teaspoonful of the tincture, with a small wineglassful of warm milk, may be given for a dose.
Some of the older writers esteemed it highly as an aromatic flavouring spice, and termed it cibus deorum, food of the gods. John Evelyn says (in his Acetaria) "the ancient Silphium thought by many to be none other than the fetid asa, was so highly prized for its taste and virtues, that it was dedicated to Apollo at Delphi, and stamped upon African coins as a sacred plant."
Aristophanes extolled its juice as a restorer of masculine vigour, and the Indians at this day sauce their viands with it. Nor are some of our skilful cooks ignorant how to condite it, with the applause of those who are unaware of the secret. The Silphium, or laserpitium of the Romans, yielded what was a famous restorative, the "Cyrenaic juice." Pareira tells us he was assured by a noted gourmet that the finest relish which a beef steak can possess, may be communicated to it by rubbing the gridiron on which the steak is to be cooked, with Asafoetida.
The gum when given in moderate doses, acts on all parts of the body as a wholesome stimulant, leading among other good results, to improvement of the vision, [220] and enlivening the spirits. But its use is apt to produce eructations smacking of garlic, which may persist for several hours; and, if it be given in over doses, the effects are headache and giddiness. When suitably administered, it quickens the appetite and improves the digestion, chiefly with those of a cold temperament, and languid habit. Smollet says the Romans stuffed their fowls for the table with Asafoetida. In Germany, Sweden, and Italy, it is known as "Devil's Dung."
The Leek (Allium porrium) bears an Anglo-Saxon name corrupted from Porleac, and it is also called the Porret, having been the Prason of the Greeks. It was first made use of in England during 1562. This was a food of the poor in ancient Egypt, as is shown by an inscription on one of the Pyramids, whence was derived the phrase, "to eat the Leek"; and its loss was bewailed by the Israelites in their journey through the Desert. It was said by the Romans to be prolific of virtue, because Latona, the mother of Apollo, longed after leeks. The Welsh, who take them much, are observed to be very fruitful. They dedicate these plants to St. David, on whose day, March 1st, in 640, the Britons (who were known to each other by displaying in their caps, at the inspiration of St. David, some leeks, "the fairest emblym that is worne," plucked in a garden near the field of action) gained a complete victory over the Saxons.
The bulb contains some sulphur, and is, in its raw state, a stimulating expectorant. Its juice acts energetically on the kidneys, and dissolves the calculous formations of earthy phosphates which frequently form in the bladder.
For chilblains, chapped hands, and sore eyes, the juice of a leek squeezed out, and mixed with cream, [221] has been found curative. Old Tusser tells us, in his Husbandry for March:—
"Now leeks are in season, for pottage full good,
That spareth the milch cow, and purgeth the blood,"
and a trite proverb of former times bids us:—
"Eat leeks in Lide [March] and ramsons in May,
Then all the year after physicians can play."
Ramsons, or the Wild Garlic (Allium ursinum), is broad leaved, and grows abundantly on our moist meadow banks, with a strong smell of onions when crushed or bruised. It is perennial, having egg-shaped or lance-like leaves, whilst bearing large, pearly-white blossoms with acute petals. The name is the plural of "Ramse," or "Ram," which signifies strong-smelling, or rank. And the plant is also called "Buck Rams," or "Buck Rampe," in allusion to its spadix or spathe. "The leaves of Ramsons," says Gerard, "are stamped and eaten with fish, even as we do eat greene sauce made with sorrell." This is "Bear's Garlic," and the Star Flower of florists.
Leeks were so highly esteemed by the Emperor Nero, that his subjects gave him the sobriquet of "Porrophagus." He took them with oil for several days in each month to clear his voice, eating no bread on those days. Un remede d'Empereur (Neron) pour se debarrasser d'un rhume,—et de commere pour attendre le meme but— fut envelopper un oignon dans une feuille de chou et le faire cuire sous la cendre; puis l'ecrasser, le reduire en pulpe, le mettre dans une tasse de lait, ou une decoction chaude de redisse; se coucher; et se tenir chaudement, au besoin recidiver matin et soir.
The Scotch leek is more hardy and pungent than that [222] grown in
England. It was formerly a favourite ingredient in the Cock-a-Leekie
soup of Caledonia, which is so graphically described by Sir
Walter Scott, in the Fortunes of Nigel.
A "Herby" pie, peculiar to Cornwall, is made of leeks and pilchards, or of nettles, pepper cress, parsley, mustard, and spinach, with thin slices of pork. At the bottom of the Squab pie mentioned before was a Squab, or young Cormorant, "which diffused," says Charles Kingsley, "through the pie, and through the ambient air, a delicate odour of mingled guano and polecat." That "lovers live by love, as larks by leeks," is an old saying; and in the classic story of Pyramus and Thisbe, reference is made to the beautiful emerald green which the leaves of the leek exhibit. "His eyes were as green as leeks." Among the Welsh farmers, it is a neighbourly custom to attend on a certain day and plough the land of a poor proprietor whose means are limited—each bringing with him one or more leeks for making the soup or broth.
The Schalot, or Eschalotte, is another variety of the onion tribe, which was introduced into England by the Crusaders, who found it growing at Ascalon. And Chives (Allium schoenoprasum) are an ever green perennial herb of the onion tribe, having only a mild, alliaceous flavour. Epicures consider the Schalot to be the best seasoning for beef steaks, either by taking the actual bulb, or by rubbing the plates therewith.
Again, as a most common plant in all our hedgerows, is found the Poor Man's Garlic, or Sauce-alone (Erisymum alliaria), from eruo, to cure, a somewhat coarse and most ordinary member of the onion tribe, which goes also by the names of "Jack by the hedge" and "Garlick-wort," and belongs to the cruciferous order [223] of plants. When bruised, it gives out a strong smell of garlic, and when eaten by cows it makes their milk taste powerfully of onions. The Ancients, says John Evelyn, used "Jack by the hedge" as a succedaneum to their Scordium, or cultivated Garlic.
This herb grows luxuriantly, bearing green, shining, heart-shaped leaves, and headpieces of small, white-flowering bunches. It was named "Saucealone," from being eaten in the Springtime with meat, whilst having so strong a flavour of onions, that it served alone of itself for sauce. Perhaps (says Dr. Prior) the title "Jack by the hedge" is derived from "jack," or "jakes," an old English word denoting a privy, or house of office, and this in allusion to the fetid smell of the plant, and the usual place of its growth.
When gathered and eaten with boiled mutton, after having been first separately boiled, it makes an excellent vegetable, if picked as it approaches the flowering state. Formerly this herb was highly valued as an antiscorbutic, and was thought a most desirable pot herb.
(The Erysimum officinale (Hedge Mustard) and the Vervain (Verbena) make Count Mattaei's empirical nostrum Febrifugo: but this Erysimum is not the same plant as the Jack by the hedge.)
GOOSEBERRY.
The Gooseberry (Ribes grossularia) gets its name from kruesbar, which signifies a cross, in allusion to the triple spine of the fruit or berry, which is commonly cruciform. This is a relic of its first floral days, preserved like the apron of the blacksmith at Persia, when he came to the throne. The term grossularia implies a resemblance of the fruit to grossuli, small unripe figs.
[224] Frequently the shrub, which belongs to the same natural order as the Currant (Ribes), grows wild in the hedges and thickets of our Eastern counties, bearing then only a small, poor berry, and not supposed to be of native origin.
In East Anglia it is named Fabe, Feap, Thape, or Theab berry, probably by reason of a mistake which arose through an incorrect picture. The Melon, in a well-known book of Tabernaemontanus, was figured to look like a large gooseberry, and was headed, Pfebe. And this name was supposed by some wiseacre to be that of the gooseberry, and thus became attached to the said fruit. Loudon thinks it signifies Feverberry, because of the cooling properties possessed by the gooseberry, which is scarcely probable.
In Norfolk, the green, unripe fruit is called Thape, and the schoolboys in that county well know Thape pie, made from green Gooseberries. The French call the fruit Groseille, and the Scotch, Grosert. It contains, chemically, citric acid, pectose, gum, sugar, cellulose, albumen, mineral matter, and water. The quantity of flesh-forming constituents is insignificant. Its pectose, under heat, makes a capital jelly.
In this country, the Gooseberry was first cultivated at the time of the Reformation, and it grows better in Great Britain than elsewhere, because of the moist climate. The original fruit occurred of the hairy sort, like Esau, as the Uva crispa of Fuschius, in Henry the Eighth's reign; and there are now red, white, and yellow cultivated varieties of the berry.
When green and unripe, Gooseberries are employed in a sauce, together with bechamel, and aromatic spices, this being taken with mackerel and other rich fish, as an acid corrective condiment. Also, from the juice of the [225] green fruit, "which cureth all inflammations," may be concocted an excellent vinegar.
Gooseberry-fool, which comes to our tables so acceptably in early summer, consists of the unripe fruit foule (that is, crushed or beaten up) with cream and milk. Similarly the French have a foule des pommes, and a_ foule des raisins_. To "play old Gooseberry" with another man's property is conjectured to mean smashing it up, and reducing it, as it were, to Gooseberry-fool.
The young and tender leaves of the shrub, if eaten raw in a salad; drive forth the gravel. And from the red Gooseberry may be prepared an excellent light jelly, which is beneficial for sedentary, plethoric, and bilious subjects. This variety of the fruit, whether hairy or smooth, is grown largely in Scotland, but in France it is little cared for.
The yellow Gooseberry is richer and more vinous of taste, suiting admirably, when of the smooth sort, for making Gooseberry wine; which is choice, sparkling, and wholesome, such as that wherewith Goldsmith's popular Vicar of Wakefield used to regale Farmer Flamborough and the blind piper, having "lost neither the recipe nor the reputation." They were soothed in return by the touching ballads of Johnny Armstrong's Last Good Night, and Cruel Barbara Allen.
Gooseberry Shows are held annually in Lancashire, and excite keen competition; but after exhibition, the successful berries are "topped and tailed," so as to disqualify them from being shown elsewhere. Southey, in The Doctor, speaks about an obituary notice in a former Manchester newspaper, of a man who "bore a severe illness with Christian fortitude, and was much esteemed among Gooseberry growers." Prizes are given for the [226] biggest and heaviest berries, which are produced with immense pains as to manuring, and the growth of cool chickweed around the roots of the bushes. At the same time each promising berry is kept submerged in a shallow vessel of water placed beneath it so as to compel absorption of moisture, and thus to enlarge its size. Whimsical names, such as "Golden Lion," "The Jolly Angler," and "Crown Bob," etc., are bestowed on the prize fruit. Cuttings from the parent plant of a prize Gooseberry become in great request; and thus the pedigree scions of a single bush have been known to yield as much as thirty-two pounds sterling to their possessor. The Gooseberry Book is a regular Manchester annual.
A berry weighing as heavy as thirty-seven penny-weight has been exhibited; and a story is told of a Middleton weaver, who, when a thunder-storm was gathering, lay awake as if for his life, and at the first patter of rain against the window panes, rushed to the rescue of his Gooseberry bushes with his bed quilt. Green Gooseberries will help to abate the strange longings which sometimes beset pregnant women.
In Devon the rustics call Gooseberries "Deberries," and in Sussex they are familiarly known to village lads as Goosegogs.
An Irish cure for warts is to prick them with a Gooseberry thorn passed through a wedding ring.
By some subtle bodily action wrought through a suggestion made to the mind, warts undoubtedly disappear as the result of this and many another equally trivial proceeding; which being so, why not the more serious skin affections, and larger morbid growths?
The poet Southey wrote a Pindaric Ode upon a Gooseberry [227]
Pie, beginning "Gooseberry Pie is best," with the refrain:—
"And didst thou scratch thy tender arms,
Oh, Jane I that I should dine"?