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"?



GOOSEFOOT.

Among Curative Simples, the Goosefoot, or Chenopod order of British plants, contributes two useful herbs, the Chenopodium bonus Henricus (Good King Henry), and the Chenopodium vulvaria (Stinking Goosefoot).

This tribe derives its distinctive title from the Greek words, cheen, a goose, and pous, a foot, in allusion to the resemblance borne by its leaves to the webbed members of that waddling bird which raw recruits are wont to bless for their irksome drill of the goose-step. Incidentally, it may be said that goosegrease, got from the roasted bird, is highly emollient, and very useful in clysters; it also proves easily emetic.

The Goosefoot herbs are common weeds in most temperate climates, and grow chiefly in salt marshes, or on the sea-shore. Other plants of this tribe are esculent vegetables, as the Spinach, Beet, and Orach. They all afford "soda" in abundance.

The Good King Henry (Goosefoot) grows abundantly in waste places near villages, being a dark green, succulent plant, about a foot high, with thickish arrow-shaped leaves, which are cooked as spinach, especially in Lincolnshire. It is sometimes called Blite, from the Greek bliton, insipid; and, as Evelyn says, in his Acetaria, "it is well named, being insipid enough."

Why the said Goosefoot has been named "Good King Henry," or, "Good King Harry," is a disputed point. A French writer declares "this humble plant which grows on our plains without culture will confer a more lasting [228] duration on the memory of Henri Quatre than the statue of bronze placed on the Pont Neuf, though fenced with iron, and guarded by soldiers." Dodoeus says the appellation was given to distinguish the plant from another, a poisonous one, called Malus Henricus, "Bad Henry." Other authors have referred it to our Harry the Eighth, and his sore legs, for which the leaves were applied as a remedy; but this idea does not seem of probable correctness. Frowde tells us "the constant irritation of his festering legs made his terrible temper still more dreadful. Warned of his approaching dissolution; and consumed with the death-thirst, he called for a cup of white wine, and, turning to one of his attendants; cried, 'All is lost!'—and these were his last words." The substantive title, Henricus, is more likely derived from "heinrich," an elf or goblin, as indicating certain magical virtues in the herb.

It is further known as English Marquery, or Mercury, and Tota bona; or, Allgood, the latter from a conceit of the rustics that it will cure all hurts; "wherefore the leaves are now a constant plaster among them for every green wound." It bears small flowers of sepals only, and is grown by cottagers as a pot herb. The young shoots peeled and boiled may be eaten as asparagus, and are gently laxative. The leaves are often made into broth, being applied also externally by country folk to heal old ulcers; and the roots are given to sheep having a cough.

Both here and in Germany this Goosefoot is used for feeding poultry, and it has hence acquired the sobriquet of Fat-hen.

The term, English Mercury, has been given because of its excellent remedial qualities against indigestion, and bears out the proverb: "Be thou sick or whole, put [229] Mercury in thy koole." Poultices made from the herb are applied to cleanse and heal chronic sores, which, as Gerard teaches, "they do scour and mundify." Certain writers associate it with our good King Henry the Sixth. There is made in America, from an allied plant, the oak-leaved Goosefoot (Chenopodium glaucum), or from the aphis which infests it, a medicinal tincture used for expelling round worms.

The Stinking Goosefoot, called therefore, Vulvaria, and Garosmus, grows often on roadsides in England, and is known as Dog's Orach. It is of a dull, glaucous, or greyish-green aspect, and invested with a greasy mealiness which when touched exhales a very odious and enduring smell like that of stale salt fish, this being particularly attractive to dogs, though swine refuse the plant. It has been found very useful in hysteria, the leaves being made into a conserve with sugar; or Dr. Fuller's famous Electuarium hystericum may be compounded by adding forty-eight drops of oil of amber (Oleum succini) to four ounces of the conserve. Then a piece of the size of a chestnut should be taken when needed, and repeated more or less often as required. It further promotes the monthly flow of women. But the herb is possessed odoris virosi intolerabilis, of a stink which remains long on the hands after touching it. The whole plant is sprinkled over with the white, pellucid meal, and contains much "trimethylamine," together with osmazome, and nitrate of potash; also it gives off free ammonia. The title, Orach, given to the Stinking Goosefoot, a simple of a "most ancient, fish-like smell," and to others of the same tribe, is a corruption of aurum, gold, because their seeds were supposed to cure the ailment known popularly as the "yellow jaundice." These plants afford no nutriment, [230] and, therefore, each bears the name, atriplex, not, trephein, to nourish:—

"Atriplicem tritum cum nitro, melle, et aceto Dicunt appositum calidum sedare podagram Ictericis dicitque Galenus tollere morbum Illius semen cum vino saepius haustum."

"With vinegar, honey, and salt, the Orach Made hot, and applied, cures a gouty attack; Whilst its seeds for the jaundice, if mingled with wine, —As Galen has said—are a remedy fine."

"Orach is cooling," writes Evelyn, "and allays the pituit humors." "Being set over the fire, neither this nor the lettuce needs any other water than their own moisture to boil them in." The Orach hails from Tartary, and is much esteemed in France. It was introduced about 1548.



GOOSEGRASS.

"Goosey, goosey, gander, whither do ye wander?" says an old nursery rhyme by way of warning to the silly waddling birds not to venture into hedgerows, else will they become helplessly fettered by the tough, straggling coils of the Clivers, Goosegrass, or, Hedgeheriff, growing so freely there, and a sad despoiler of feathers.

The medicinal Goosegrass (Galium aparine), which is a highly useful curative Simple, springs up luxuriantly about fields and waste places in most English districts. It belongs to the Rubiaceous order of plants, all of which have a root like madder, affording a red dye. This hardy Goosegrass climbs courageously by its slender, hairy stems through the dense vegetation of our hedges into open daylight, having sharp, serrated leaves, and producing small white flowers, "pearking on the tops of the sprigs." It is one of the Bedstraw tribe, and bears [231] a number of popular titles, such as Cleavers, Clithers, Robin run in the grass, Burweed, Loveman, Gooseherriff, Mutton chops, Clite, Clide, Clitheren, and Goosebill, from the sharp, serrated leaves, like the rough-edged mandibles of a goose.

Its stalks and leaves are covered with little hooked bristles, which attach themselves to passing objects, and by which it fastens itself in a ladder-like manner to adjacent shrubs, so as to push its way upwards in the hedgerows.

Goosegrass has obtained the sobriquet of Beggar's lice, from clinging closely to the garments of passers by, as well as because the small burs resemble these disgusting vermin; again it is known to some as Harriff, or, Erriff, from the Anglo-Saxon "hedge rife," a taxgather, or robber, because it plucks the wool from the sheep as they pass through a hedge; also Grip-grass, Catchweed, and Scratchweed. Furthermore, this Bedstraw has been called Goose-grease, from a mistaken belief that obstructive ailments of geese can be cured therewith. It is really a fact that goslings are extremely fond of the herb.

The botanical name, Aparine, bears the same meaning, being derived from the Greek verb, apairo, to lay hold of. The generic term, Galium, comes from the Greek word gala, milk, which the herb was formerly employed to curdle, instead of rennet.

The flowers of this Bedstraw bloom towards August, about the time of the Feast of the Annunciation, and a legend says they first burst into blossom at the birth of our Saviour. Bedstraw is, according to some, a corruption of Beadstraw. It is certain that Irish peasant girls often repeat their "aves" from the round seeds of the Bedstraw, using them for beads in the absence of a rosary; [232] and hence, perhaps, has been derived the name Our Lady's Be(a)dstraw. But straw (so called from the Latin sterno, to strew, or, scatter about) was formerly employed as bedding, even by ladies of rank: whence came the expression of a woman recently confined being "in the straw." Children style the Galium Aparine Whip tongue, and Tongue-bleed, making use of it in play to draw blood from their tongues.

This herb has a special curative reputation with reference to cancerous growths and allied tumours. For open cancers an ointment is made from the leaves and stems wherewith to dress the ulcerated parts, and at the same time the expressed juice of the plant is given internally. Dr. Tuthill Massy avers that it often produces a cure in from six to twelve months, and advises that the decoction shall be drank regularly afterwards in the Springtime.

Dr. Quinlan, at St. Vincent's Hospital, Dublin, successfully employed poultices made with the fresh juice, and applied three times in the day, to heal chronic ulcers on the legs. Its effects, he says, in the most unlikely cases, were decisive and plain to all. He gave directions that whilst a bundle of ten or twelve stalks is grasped with the left hand, this bundle should be cut into pieces of about half-an-inch long, by a pair of scissors held in the right hand. The segments are then to be bruised thoroughly in a mortar, and applied in the mass as a poultice beneath a bandage.

Dr. Thornton, in his excellent Herbal (1810), says: "After some eminent surgeons had failed, he ordered the juice of Cleavers, mixed with linseed, to be applied to the breast, in cases of supposed cancer of that part, with a teaspoonful of the juice to be taken every night and morning whilst fasting; by which plan, after a short [233] time, he dispersed very frightful tumours in the breast."

The herb is found, on analysis, to contain three distinct acids—the tannic acid (of galls), the citric acid (of lemons), and the special rubichloric acid of the plant.

"In cancer," says Dr. Boyce, "five fluid ounces of the fresh juice of the plant are to be taken twice a day, whilst constantly applying the bruised leaves, or their ointment, to the sore."

Some of our leading druggists now furnish curative preparations made from the fresh herb. These include the succus, or juice, to be swallowed; the decoction, to be applied as a lotion; and the ointment, for curative external use. Both in England and elsewhere the juice of this Goosegrass constitutes one of the Spring juices taken by country people for scorbutic complaints. And not only for cancerous disease, but for many other foul, illconditioned ulcers, whether scrofulous or of the scurvy nature, this Goosegrass has proved itself of the utmost service, its external application being at all times greatly assisted by the internal use of the juice, or of a decoction made from the whole herb.

By reason of its acid nature; this Galium is astringent, and therefore of service in some bleedings, as well as in diarrhoea, and for obesity.

Gerard writes: "The herb, stamped with swine's grease, wasteth away the kernels by the throat; and women do usually make pottage of Cleavers with a little mutton and oatmeal, to cause leanness, and to keep them from fatness." Dioscorides reported that: "Shepherds do use the herb to take hairs out of the milk, if any remain therein."

Considered generally, the Galium aparine exercises acid, astringent, and diuretic effects, whilst it is of [234] special value against epilepsy, and cancerous sores, as already declared; being curative likewise of psoriasis, eczema, lepra, and other cutaneous diseases. The dose of the authorised officinal juice is from one to two teaspoonfuls, and from five to twenty grains of the prepared extract.

The title Galium borne by Bedstraws has been derived from the Greek gala, milk, because they all possess to some extent the power of curdling milk when added to it. Similarly the appellation "Cheese rennet," or, Cheese running (from gerinnen, to coagulate), is given to these plants. Highlanders make special use of the common Yellow Bedstraw for this purpose, and to colour their cheese.

From the Yellow Bedstraw (Galium verum), which is abundant on dry banks chiefly near the sea, and which may be known by its diminutive, puffy stems, and its small golden flowers, closely clustered together in dense panicles, "an ointment," says Gerard, "is prepared, which is good for anointing the weary traveller."

Because of its bright yellow blossoms, this herb is also named "Maid's hair," resembling the loose, unsnooded, golden hair of maidens. In Henry VIII's reign "maydens did wear silken callis to keep in order their hayre made yellow with dye." For a like reason the Yellow Bedstraw has become known as "Petty mugget," from the French petit muguet, a little dandy, as applied in ridicule to effeminate young men, the Jemmy Jessamies, or "mashers" of the period. Old herbalists affirmed that the root of this same Bedstraw, if drunk in wine, stimulates amorous desires, and that the flowers, if long smelt at, will produce a similar effect.

This is, par excellence, the Bedstraw of our Lady, who [235] gave birth to her son, says the legend, in a stable, with nothing but wild flowers for the bedding.

Thus, in the old Latin hymn, she sings right sweetly:—

"Lectum stravi tibi soli: dormi, nate bellule! Stravi lectum foeno molli: dormi, mi animule! Ne quid desit sternam rosis: sternam foenum violis, Pavimentum hyacinthis; et praesepe liliis."

"Sleep, sweet little babe, on the bed I have spread thee; Sleep, fond little life, on the straw scattered o'er! 'Mid the petals of roses, and pansies I've laid thee, In crib of white lilies; blue bells on the floor."



GOUTWEED.

A passing word should certainly be given to the Goutweed, or, Goatweed, among Herbal Simples. It is, though but little regarded, nevertheless, a common and troublesome garden weed, of the Umbelliferous tribe, and thought to possess certain curative virtues. Botanically it is the OEgopodium podagraria, signifying, by the first of these names, Goatsfoot, and by the second, a specific power against gout. The plant is also known as Herb Gerard, because dedicated to St. Gerard, who was formerly invoked to cure gout, against which this herb was employed. Also it has been named Ashweed, wild Master-wort, and Gout-wort. The herb grows about a foot high, with white flowers in umbels, having large, thrice-ternate, aromatic leaves, and a creeping root. These leaves are sometimes boiled, and eaten, but they possess a strong, disagreeable flavour. Culpeper says: "It is not to be supposed that Goutweed hath its name for nothing; but upon experiment to heal the gout, and sciatica; as also joint aches, and other cold griefs; the very bearing it about one [236] easeth the pains of the gout, and defends him that bears it from disease." Hill recommends the root and fresh buds of the leaves as excellent in fomentations and poultices for pains; and the leaves, when boiled soft, together with the roots, for application about the hip in sciatica.

No chemical analysis of the Goutweed is yet on record.

"Herbe Gerard groweth of itself in gardens without setting, or sowing; and is so fruitful in his increase that where once it hath taken root, it will hardly be gotten out again, spoiling and getting every yeere more ground—to the annoying of better herbes."



GRAPES (see also VINE).

Grapes, the luscious and refreshing fruit of the Vine, possess certain medicinal properties and virtues which give them a proper place among Herbal Simples. The name Vine comes from viere, to twist, being applied with reference to the twining habits of the parent stock; as likewise to "with," and "withy."

The fruit consists of pulp, stones, and skin. Within the pulp is contained the grape sugar, which differs in some respects chemically from cane sugar, and which is taken up straightway into our circulation when eaten, without having to be changed slowly by the saliva, as is the case with cane sugar. Therefore it happens that the grape sugar warms and fattens speedily, with a quick repair of waste, when the strength and the structures are consumed by fever, Grapes then being most grateful to the sufferer. But they do not suit inflammatory subjects at other times, or gouty persons at any time, as well as cane sugar, which has to undergo slower chemical conversion before it furnishes heat and [237] sustenance. And in this respect, grape sugar closely resembles the glucose, or sweet principle of honey.

The fruit also contains a certain quantity of "fruit sugar," which is chemically identical with cane sugar; and, because of the special syrupy juice of its pulp, the Grape adapts itself to quick alcoholic fermentation.

The important ingredients of Grapes are sugar (grape and fruit), gum, tannin, bitartrate of potash, sulphate of potash, tartrate of lime, magnesia, alum, iron, chlorides of potassium and sodium, tartaric, citric, racemic, and malic acids, some albumen, and azotized matters, with water.

But the wine grower is glad to see his must deposit the greater part of these chemical ingredients in the "tartar," a product much disliked, and therefore named Sal Tartari, or Hell Salt; and Cremor Tartari, Hell Scum (Cream of Tartar).

In Italy, the vine furnishes oil as well as wine, this being extracted from the grape stones, and reckoned superior to any other sort, whether for the table or for purposes of lighting. It has no odour, and burns without smoke. The stones also yield volatile essences, which are developed by crushing, and which give bouquet to the several wines, whilst the skin affords colouring matter and tannin, of more or less astringency.

Grapes supply but little actual nutritious matter for building up the solid structures of the body; they act as gentle laxatives; though their stones, and the leaves of the vine, are astringent. These latter were formerly employed to stop bleedings, and when dried and powdered, for arresting dysentery in cattle.

In Egypt the leaves are used, when young and tender, for enveloping balls of hashed meat, at good tables. The [238] sap of the vine, named lacryma, "a tear," is an excellent application to weak eyes, and for specs of the cornea. The juice of the unripe fruit, which is verjuice (as well as that of the wild crabapple), was much esteemed by the ancients, and is still in good repute for applying to bruises and sprains.

When taken in any quantity, Grapes act freely on the kidneys, and promote a flow of urine. The vegetable acids of the fruit become used up as such, and are neutralised in the system by combining with the earthy salts found therein, and they pass off in the urine as alkaline carbonates. With full-blooded, excitable persons, grapes in any quantity are apt to produce palpitation, and to quicken the circulation for a time. Also with persons of slow and feeble energies, having a languid digestion (and especially if predisposed to acid fermentation in the stomach), Grapes are apt to disagree. They send their glucose straightway into the circulation combined with acids found in the stomach, and create considerable distress of heartburn and dyspepsia. "Thus," says Dr. King Chambers, "is generated acidity of the stomach, parent of gout, and of all its hideous crew." Likewise wine, especially if sweet, new, or full-bodied, when taken by such persons at a meal, is absorbed but slowly by the stomach, and much of the sugar, with some alcohol, becomes converted by fermentation into acetic acid, which further causes the oily ingredients in the food which has been swallowed to turn rancid. "Things sweet to taste prove to digestion sour." But otherwise, with a person in good health, and not given to gout or rheumatism, Grapes are an excellent food for supplying warmth as combustion material, by their ready-made sugar; whilst the essential flavours of the fruit are cordial, and [239] whilst a surplus of the glucose serves to form fat for storage.

What is known as the Grape-cure, is pursued in the Tyrol, in Bavaria, on the banks of the Rhine, and elsewhere—the sick person being ordered to eat from three to six pounds of grapes a day. But the relative proportions of the sugar and acids in the various kinds of grapes have important practical bearings on the results obtained, determining whether wholesome purgation shall follow, or whether tonic and fattening effects shall be produced. In the former case, sufferers from sluggish liver and torpid biliary functions, with passive local congestions, will benefit most by taking the grapes not fully ripe, and not completely sweet; whilst in the latter instance, those invalids will gain special help from ripe and sweet grapes, who require quick supplies of animal heat and support to resist rapid waste of tissue, as in chronic catarrh of the lungs, or mucous catarrh of the bowels.

The most important constituent to be determined is the quantity of grape sugar, which varies according to the greater or less warmth of the climate. Tokay Grapes are the sweetest; next are those of southern France; then of Moselle, Bohemia, and Heidelberg; whilst the fruit of the Vine in Spain, Italy, and Madeira, is not commended for curative purposes. The Grapes are eaten three, four, or five times a day, during the promenade; those which are not sweet produce a diuretic and laxative effect; seeing, moreover, that their reaction is alkaline, the "cure" thereby is particularly suitable for persons troubled with gravel and acid gout.

After losses of blood, and in allied states of exhaustion, the restorative powers of the grape-cure are often [240] strikingly exhibited. Formerly, the German doctors kept their patients, when under this mode of treatment, almost entirely without other food. But it is now found that light, wholesome nourishment, properly chosen, and taken at regular times, even with some moderate allowance of Bordeaux wine, may be permitted in useful conjunction with the grapes. Children do not, as a rule, bear the grape-cure well. One sort of grape, the Bourdelas, or Verjus, being intensely sour when green, is never allowed to ripen, but its large berries are made to yield their acid liquor for use instead of vinegar or lemon juice, in sauces, drinks, and medicinal preparations.

A vinegar poultice, applied cold, is an effectual remedy for sprains and bruises, and will arrest the progress of scrofulous enlargements of bones. It may be made with vinegar and oatmeal, or with the addition of bread crumb."—Pharmacopoeia Chirurgica, 1794.

"Other fruits may please the palate equally well, but it is the proud prerogative of the kingly grape to minister also to the mind." This served to provide one of the earliest offerings to the Deity, seeing that "Bread and wine were brought forth to Abraham by Melchisedec, the Priest of the Most High God."

The Vine (Vitis vinifera) was almost always to the front in the designs drawn by the ancients. Thus, miniatures and dainty little pictures were originally encircled with representations of its foliage, and we still name such small exquisite illustrations, "vignettes," from the French word, vigne.

The large family of Muscat grapes get their distinctive title not because of any flavour of musk attached to them, but because the sweet berries are particularly attractive to flies (muscre), a reason which [241] induced the Romans to name this variety, Vitis apiaria. "On attrape plus de mouches avec le miel qu' avec le vinaigre"— say the French.

In Portugal, grape juice is boiled down with quinces into a sort of jam—the progenitor of all marmalades. The original grape vine is supposed to have been indigenous to the shores of the Caspian Sea.

If eaten to excess, especially by young persons, grapes will make the tongue and the lining membrane of the mouth sore, just as honey often acts. For this reason, both grapes and honey do good to the affection known as thrush, with sore raw mouth, and tongue in ulcerative white patches, coming on as a derangement of the health.



GRASSES.

Our abundant English grasses furnish nutritious herbage and farinaceous seeds, whilst their stems and leaves prove useful for textile purposes. Furthermore, some few of them possess distinctive medicinal virtues, with mucilaginous roots, and may be properly classed among Herbal Simples.

The Sweet-scented Vernal Grass (Anthoxanthum, with Yellow Anthers) gives its delightfully characteristic odour to newly mown meadow hay, and has a pleasant aroma of Woodruff. But it is specially provocative of hay fever and hay asthma with persons liable to suffer from these distressing ailments. Accordingly, a medicinal tincture is made (H.) from this grass with spirit of wine, and if some of the same is poured into the open hand-palms for the volatile aroma to be sniffed well into the nose and throat, immediate relief is afforded during an attack. At the same time three or four drops of the tincture should be taken as a dose with water, and [242] repeated at intervals of twenty or thirty minutes, as needed.

The flowers contain "coumarin," and their volatile pollen impregnates the atmosphere in early summer. The sweet perfume is due chiefly to benzoic acid, such as is used for making scented pastilles, or Ribbon of Bruges for fumigation.

Again, the Couch Grass, Dog Grass, or Quilch (Triticum repens) found freely in road-sides, fields, and waste places, has been employed from remote times as a vulnerary, and to relieve difficulties of urination. Our English wheat has been evolved therefrom.

In modern days its infusion—of the root—is generally regarded as a soothing diuretic, helpful to the bladder and kidneys. Formerly, this was a popular drink to purify the blood in the Spring. But no special constituents have been discovered in the root besides a peculiar sugar, a gum-like principle, triticin, and some lactic acid. The decoction may be made from the whole fresh plant, or from the dried root sliced, two to four ounces being put in a quart of water, reduced to a pint by boiling. A wineglassful of this may be given for a dose. It certainly palliates irritation of the urinary passages, and helps to relieve against gravel. A liquid extract is also dispensed by the druggists, of which from one to two teaspoonfuls are given in water.

The French specially value this grass for its stimulating fragrancy of vanilla and rose perfumes in the decoction. They use the Cocksfoot Grass (Dactylis), or pied de poule, in a similar way, and for the same purposes.

Also the "bearded Darnel," Lolium temulentum ("intoxicated"), a common grass-weed in English cornfields, will produce medicinally all the symptoms of drunkenness. The French call it Ivraie for this reason, and [243] with us it is known as Ray Grass, or in some provincial districts as "Cheat." The old Sages supposed it to cause blindness, hence with the Romans, lolio victitare, to live on Darnel, was a phrase applied to a dim-sighted person. Gerard says, "the new bread wherein Darnell is eaten hot, causeth drunkenness."

From lolium the term Lollard given in reproach to the Waldenses, and the followers of Wickliffe, indicated that they were pernicious weeds choking and destroying the pure wheat of the gospel. Milne says the expression in Matthew xiii. v. 25, would have been better translated "darnel" than "tares."

A general trembling, followed by inability to walk, hindered speech, and presently profound sleep, with subsequent headache and vomiting, are the symptoms produced by Darnel when taken in a harmful quantity. So that medicinally a tincture of the plant may be expected, if given in small diluted doses, to quickly dispel intoxication from alcoholic drinks; also to prove useful for analogous congestion of the brain coming on as an illness, and for dimness of vision. Chemically, it contains an acrid fixed oil, and a yellow glucoside.

There is some reason to suspect that the old custom of using Darnel to adulterate malt and distilled liquors has not been wholly abandoned. Farmers in Devonshire are fond of the Ray Grass, which they call "Eaver" or "Iver"; and "Devon-ever" is noted likewise in Somersetshire.



GROUNDSEL.

Common Groundsel is so well known throughout Great Britain, that it needs scarcely any description. It is very prolific, and found in every sort of cultivated ground, being a small plant of the Daisy tribe, but without any [244] outer white rays to its yellow flower-heads. These are compact little bundles, at first of a dull yellow colour, until presently the florets fall off and leave the white woolly pappus of the seeds collected together, somewhat resembling the hoary hairs of age. They have suggested the name of the genus "senecio," from the Latin senex, an old man:—

"Quod canis simili videatur flore capillis; Cura facit canos quamvis vir non habet annos."

"With venerable locks the Groundsel grows; Hard care more quick than years white head-gear shows."

In the fifteenth century this herb went by the name of Grondeswyle, from grund, ground, and swelgun, to swallow, and to this day it is called in Scotland Grundy Swallow, or Ground Glutton.

Not being attractive to insects or visited by them the Groundsel is fertilized by the wind. It flowers throughout the whole year, and is the favourite food of many small birds, being thus given to canaries, and to other domesticated songsters.

The weed, named at first "Ascension," is called in the Eastern counties by corruption "Senshon" and "Simson." Its leaves are fleshy, with a bitter saline taste, whilst the juice is slightly acrid, but emollient. In this country farriers give it to horses for bot-worms, and in Germany it is employed as a vermifuge for children. A weak infusion of the whole plant with boiling water makes a simple and easy purgative dose, but a strong infusion will act as an emetic. For the former purpose two drachms by weight of the fresh plant should be boiled in four fluid ounces of water, and the same decoction serves as a useful gargle for a [245] sore throat from catarrh. Chemically it contains senecin and seniocine.

In the hands of Simplers the Groundsel formerly held high rank as a herb of power. Au old herbal prescribes against toothache to "dig up Groundsel with a tool that hath no iron in it, and touch the tooth five times with the plant, then spit thrice after each touch, and the cure will be complete." Hill says "the fresh roots if smelled when first taken out of the ground, are an immediate cure for many forms of headache." To apply the bruised leaves will serve for preventing boils, and the plant, if taken as a sallet with vinegar, is good for sadness of the heart. Gerard says "Women troubled with the mother (womb) are much eased by baths made of the leaves, and flowers of this, and the kindred Ragworts."

A decoction of Groundsel serves as a famous application for healing chapped hands. In Cornwall if the herb is to be used as an emetic they strip it upwards, if for a purgative downwards. "Lay by your learned receipts," writes Culpeper, "this herb alone shall do the deed for you in all hot diseases, first safely, second speedily."



HAWTHORN (Whitethorn).

The Hawthorn, or Whitethorn, is so welcome year by year as a harbinger of Summer, by showing its wealth of sweet-scented, milk-white blossoms, in our English hedgerows, that everyone rejoices when the Mayflower comes into bloom. Its brilliant haws, or fruit, later on are a botanical advance on the blackberry and wild raspberry, which belong to the same natural order. It has promoted itself to the possession of a single carpel or seed-vessel to each blossom, producing a [246] separate fruit, this being a stony apple in miniature.

But the word "haw" is misapplied, because it really means a "hedge," and not a fruit; whilst "hips," which are popularly connected with "haws," are the fruit-capsules of the wild Dog-rose. Haws, when dried, make an infusion which will act on the kidneys; they are astringent, and serve, as well as the flowers, in decoction, to cure a sore throat.

The Hawthorn bush was chosen by Henry the Seventh for his device, because a small crown from the helmet of Richard the Third was discovered hanging thereon. Hence arose the legend "Cleve to thy crown though it hangs on a bush." In some districts it is called Hazels, Gazels, and Halves; and in many country places the villagers believe that the blossom of the Hawthorn still bears the smell of the great plague of London. It was formerly thought to be scathless—a tree too sacred to be touched.

Botanically, the Hawthorn is called Cratoegus oxyacantha, these names signifying kratos, strength or hardness (of the wood); and oxus, sharp—akantha, a thorn. It is the German Hage-dorn or Hedge thorn, showing that from a very early period in the history of the Germanic races, their land was divided into plots by means of hedges.

The Hawthorn is also named Whitethorn, from the whiteness of its rind; and Quickset from its growing in a hedge as a "quick" or living shrub, when contrasted with a paling of dead wood. An old English name for the buds of the Hawthorn when just expanding, was Ladies' Meat; and in Sussex it is called the Bread and Cheese tree.

In many parts of England charms or incantations are [247] employed to prevent a thorn from festering in the flesh, as:—

"Happy the man that Christ was born, He was crowned with a thorn, He was pierced through the skin For to let the poison in; But His five wounds, so they say, Closed before He passed away; In with healing, out with thorn! Happy man that Christ was born."

The flowers are fertilised for the most part by carrion insects, and a certain undertone of decomposition may be detected (says Grant Allen) by keen nostrils in the scent of the Mayflower. It is this curious element, in what seems otherwise a pure and delicious perfume, which attracts the meat-eating insects, or rather those insects which lay their eggs and hatch out their larvae in decaying animal matter. The meat-fly comes first abroad just at the time when the Mayblossom breaks into bloom.

A Greek bride was sometimes decked with a sprig of Hawthorn, as emblematic of a flowery future, with thorns intermingled. It is supposed that "the Jewes maden," for our Saviour, "a croune of the branches of Albespyne, that is, Whitethorn, that grew in the same garden, and therefore hath the Whitethorn many vertues" being called in France l'epine noble.

The shadows in the moon are popularly thought to represent a man laden with a bundle of thorns in punishment of theft:—

"Rusticus in luna quem sarcina deprimit una, Monstrat per spinas nulli prodesse rapinas."

"A thievish clown by cruel thorns opprest Shows in the moon that honesty pays best."



[248] HEMLOCK and HENBANE.

The Spotted Hemlock (Conium maculatum), and the Sickly-smelling Henbane (Hyoscyamus niger), are plants of common wild growth throughout England, especially the former, and are well known to everyone familiar with our Herbal Simples. But each is so highly narcotic as a medicine, and yet withal so safely useful externally to allay pain, as well as to promote healing, that their outward remedial forms of application must not be overlooked among our serviceable herbs. Nevertheless, for internal administration, these herbs lie altogether beyond the pale of domestic uses, except in the hands of a doctor.