XI

A RIVAL OF THE FABLED UPAS TREE

We are so accustomed nowadays to danger to life and health from minute, invisible germs, and to exerting all our skill in order to destroy them, that the knowledge of the existence of large and beautiful trees in our midst which can, and do, cause terrible disease and suffering by their mere presence, comes as a shock, and produces a peculiar sense of insecurity greater even than that excited by unseen micro-organisms. For the trees of which I am about to speak are cultivated in our gardens, trained up against the walls of our houses with loving care, and admired for the beautiful autumn tints of their leaves. Yet it is now certain that they are the cause in many persons of most terrible suffering and illness. I am glad to be able to warn my readers in regard to these plants, and I shall be very much interested to hear whether the information which I am about to give proves to be of value in any particular case.

A married couple, friends of my own, went to live, about fourteen years ago, in a newly built, detached house, standing in its own garden, in the neighbourhood of an English city. After they had been there two years the lady developed a very painful eruption or eczema on the face, which, in the course of a few weeks, caused the eyes, nose, and lips to swell to an extraordinary degree, accompanied by the formation of blisters and breaking of the skin. The affection spread to the body, and caused constant pain and corresponding prostration. Her medical attendants were unable either to cure or to account for her condition. After some months she left home, and entirely recovered. But every year the same distressing and disfiguring illness attacked her (commencing in the month of June), and disappeared as soon as she left her house, only to return when she came back to it. The doctors spoke of her affliction as a mysterious form of erysipelas, and even suggested blood-poisoning as the cause. For long periods she was so ill and in so much pain that she was unable to see her friends, and her life was at times in danger.

Two years ago a weekly newspaper published an account, written by a correspondent, of an illness from which he had suffered—exactly agreeing with that which had for so many years tortured my friend’s wife. This writer stated that he had ascertained that the disease was due to the action of a poison given off by a creeper which grew on the walls of his house. He had supposed this plant to be a Virginian creeper; but he had discovered that it was in reality the Californian poison-vine called by botanists Rhus toxicodendron. The terribly poisonous nature of this plant is well-known to the people of the United States. It is one of the sumach trees, of which other poisonous kinds are known, whilst more than one species is used (especially in Japan) for preparing a resinous varnish which is used in the manufacture of “lacquered” articles. The writer in the weekly paper stated that he had cut down and burnt the poison-vine which grew on the walls of his house, and that his sufferings had ceased. My friend happened to read this account, and immediately examined his own house. He found a creeper resembling a Virginian creeper, but having three leaflets or divisions of the leaf instead of five, growing around his drawing-room window, and actually spreading its branches and leaves over the window of his wife’s bedroom. He sent specimens of the creeper to Kew, where it was at once identified as the Rhus toxicodendron or American poison-vine or poison-ivy. He caused the plant to be removed and burnt, and, except for a slight attack in July, due no doubt to fragments of the leaves still carried about in the form of dust, his wife has recovered her health.

I have looked into this matter with care, and I find that (presumably in ignorance) nurserymen in England have sold specimens of the poison-vine for planting as creepers, under the name Ampelopsis Hoggii. The smaller-leaved Virginian creeper, with self-attaching tendrils, is known as Ampelopsis Veitchii, and is, like the larger Virginian creeper (A. quinquefoliata), quite harmless. The poison-vine is not an Ampelopsis at all, not even one of the Vitaceæ or vine family, as that genus is. It is a Sumach or Rhus, and belongs to a distinct family, the Terebinthaceæ. It has a three-split leaf, not five leaflets, as has the large Virginian creeper, nor a small three-pointed leaf, as has the Ampelopsis Veitchii. The Veitchii frequently has the leaf also split into three leaflets, but the stalk of the middle leaflet is not relatively so long as it is in the poison-vine. The differences and resemblances in the leaves of these plants are shown in the accompanying illustration (Fig. 14), which has been prepared from actual specimens for this book.

The people of the United States are on their guard against this plant, knowing its terrible properties. Sir William Thiselton Dyer, formerly director of Kew Gardens, tells me that specimens of the “American poison-vine” are grown in the garden at Kew, and that he has been present when American visitors (ladies) literally screamed with horror on seeing it, and ran from it as from a mad dog. Several cases are on record of the mysterious poisoning produced by this plant in England; but it is strangely unfamiliar to medical practitioners—indeed, practically unknown to them, although I have ascertained that many English people, especially ladies, have been victims for some years to its unsuspected influence.

At the University of Harvard, in Cambridge, Massachusetts, they have made quite recently a thorough examination of the poison-vine in the laboratory, with the following results: The poison is an oil—a fixed oil, not a volatile one, as we might have imagined from its mysterious action at a distance. The oil exists in all parts of the plant, even in the fine hairs and cuticle of the leaf. It can be extracted by means of ether, and is one of the most virulent irritants known, having a very curious penetrating and persistent action, and producing violent pain and destruction of tissue when placed on the skin in quantity so minute (one-thousandth of a milligram in two drops of olive oil) as to be beyond the terms of everyday language. It seems to be usually brought to the eyes, nose, lips, and skin of the face and body by the fingers which have touched a leaf or fragments of a leaf in powder. The dead leaf in winter still retains the oil, and minute dust-like particles can carry it. The treatment for it is washing with soap, oil, and ether at an early stage of the attack—especial care being taken to free the fingers from any minute traces of the oil adhering to them.

The poison of the poison-vine only acts upon a limited number of individuals, many people being perfectly immune. At the same time, the effect upon susceptible people appears to be enhanced with every fresh attack; even after the total removal of the poison-vine and its dust from proximity to a susceptible person, he or she is apt for some time—owing to the retention of some trace of the oil in the skin or clothes—to have slight attacks. According to a writer who two years ago gave in the Spectator an account of his own case, the first symptom of an attack is almost invariably a redness and irritation of the eyelids, accompanied by shivering. In a few hours the eyelids are closed, the features unrecognisable, and the skin covered with little blisters. Then the lips swell enormously, the glands of the neck also. In four days the arms and hands are reached, each finger appearing as if terribly scalded and requiring separate bandaging. Then sometimes the lower limbs are involved. After ten days the attack passes off, leaving the patient in a pitiable state of weakness to grow a new skin and recover from other painful results of the poisoning. But no immunity is conferred by an attack; the unhappy victim (who is ignorant of the cause of his sufferings) may, and frequently does, get a new dose of the poison as soon as he has recovered, and the whole course of the illness has again to be passed through. If this account should fall into the hands of any one who is being unwittingly poisoned by the American poison-vine, and may therefore be saved by what I have written from further suffering, I shall be greatly pleased.

There are very few plants which have a power of diffusing poison around them; usually it is necessary to touch or to eat portions of a plant before it can exert any poisonous effect. The eighteenth-century story of the upas-tree of Java, which was fabled to fill a whole valley with its poisonous emanation, and to cause the death of animals and birds at a distance of fifteen miles, is now known to be a romantic invention. The tree in question is merely one having a poisonous juice which was extracted and used by the wilder races of Java as an arrow poison. It is stated that one of the stinging-nettles of tropical India has such virulent poison and such an abundance of it in the hairs on its surface, that explorers have been injured by merely approaching it, the detached hairs probably floating in the air and getting into the eyes, nose, and throat of any one coming near it. The poison of the poisonous stings of both plants and of animals has been to some extent examined of late years. It is a curious fact that there are proportionately few plants which sting as compared with the number and variety of animals which do so. On the other hand, there are an enormous number of plants which are poisonous to man when eaten by him, but there are very few animals which are so.

It will be of interest to my readers to know that I received, in consequence of the publication of the foregoing account of the “Poison-vine” or “Poison-ivy,” more than fifty letters and boxes containing leaves. At Kew Gardens nearly a hundred applications were made with a request for the identification of leaves. The proportion of cases in which leaves of true poison-ivy (Rhus toxicodendron) were sent to me seems to be the same as that which they observed at Kew—only two samples of the leaves sent to me were those of the true poison-ivy. Hence we may conclude that the plant has not been very largely introduced in this country, and probably there are not many hundred cases existing in England of the painful malady which it can, in certain people, produce. I have, however, received information of several instances of this poisoning from different parts of the country, which are either now under treatment or have been cured, and in some cases the poison-ivy has been discovered as the cause, owing to the description which I published. It is certainly true that the illness caused by this plant only attacks a small proportion of those who handle it, and it is possible that the plant is more virulent at some seasons and in some soils than in others. In the United States, even in the neighbourhood of New York, it is a real danger, and is recognised as such, but as appears from a letter which I quote below, the reason of the dread which the “poison-ivy” excites in the States depends on the fact that it is not there a mere garden plant, but grows wild in great abundance in the woodlands frequented by holiday-makers and lovers of natural forest and lakeside wilderness. The poisonous nature of the allied species of Rhus used for the manufacture of “lacquer” or varnish is recognised by the Japanese and others who prepare this product and have to handle the plant—they wear gloves to protect the hands.

As showing what kind of trouble the “poison-ivy” and “poison-oak” (another kind of Rhus or Sumach) give in the United States, I will quote a letter I have received from an American lady well known in London society. She says: “I have known, suffered, and struggled against the poison-ivy in America from my earliest years, when my poor mother lay for days with blinded and swollen eyes, having gathered it inadvertently. The ‘poison-ivy,’ as we call it, is a curse to country life, outside the purely artificial and cultivated gardens, and even there it creeps in insidiously.” She describes a beautiful farm property on Lake Champlain, on the Canadian border, where she and her family would spend many weeks in summer in order to enjoy the delights of complete seclusion in wild, unspoilt country: “The one and only drawback to the place was,” she writes, “the inexhaustible quantity of poison-ivy. Our first duty had been to teach my two daughters and their governess how to distinguish and avoid contact with it. The one and only rule was that the poison-ivy has the clusters of three leaflets (the middle leaflet with a longer stalk, E.R.L.), whereas the woodbine (not the English woodbine, which is a convolvulus, E.R.L.), or, as you call it, ‘Virginian creeper,’ has five leaflets in a cluster. Every path which we used frequently and necessarily, such as the path to the boat-house, and to the cove where the bathing-house stood, we kept cleared of the Rhus for a sufficient width, but in the woods eternal vigilance was the price of safety. To uproot and burn is the only way to destroy it, but, of course, that involves danger to the one who does the work, because contact with the spade used, and with the garments which touched the ivy, might communicate the poison. The farmer and the countryfolk about declared that the fumes from the burning plant could and did poison those who breathed them. We used to turn a flock of sheep into the most used parts. They prefer the poison-ivy to grass, and greedily eat down every leaf within reach in hedge or path. But that, of course, was a mere temporary safety, as the plant is most tenacious of life. I personally had a most grievous experience one summer. I can only suppose that my dress, though very short for wood and hill walking, brushed over the poisonous plant, and then, when I undressed, came into contact with my skin. Both legs became covered with the eruption, eventually developing pustules, and the agony of itching, burning, and smarting was indescribable. The first remedy applied is usually a frequent use of baths of some alkali, generally common soda. With me it was altogether inadequate, and the doctor carefully covered the affected parts with a thick layer of bismuth, and bandaged them, so as to exclude all air. But it took weeks to cure me. A very serious result in many cases is that there is a recurrence of the itching for several years.”