American library books » Literary Collections » The Book of Herbs by Rosalind Northcote (christmas read aloud txt) 📕

Read book online «The Book of Herbs by Rosalind Northcote (christmas read aloud txt) 📕».   Author   -   Rosalind Northcote



1 ... 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 ... 36
Go to page:
are significant! Formerly, the leaf-stalks were blanched, and eaten as celery is, but now they are chiefly used, candied, for dessert. The art of candying seems to have been brought closer to perfection abroad than at home in Turner’s time, for he says: “The rootes are now condited in Danske, for a friend of mine in London, called Maister Aleyne, a merchant man, who hath ventured over to Danske, sent me a little vessel of these, well condited with honey, very excellent good. Wherefore they that would have anye Angelica maye speake to the Marchauntes of Danske, who can provide them enough.” The fruit is used to flavour Chartreuse and other “cordials.” Blites (Blitum).

Dr Prior confirms Evelyn, in calling Bonus Henricus Blites, but the older herbalists seem to have given this name to another plant of the same tribe, the Chenopodiaceæ, because they treat of Blites and Bonus Henricus in separate chapters. Parkinson is very uncomplimentary to them. “Blitum are of the species Amaranthum, Flower Gentle. They are used as arrach, eyther boyled of itself or stewed, which they call Loblolly.... It is altogether insipid and without taste. The unsavouriness whereof hath in many countries grown into a proverb, or by-word, to call dull, slow or lazy persons by that name.” The context points to the nickname coming from “Blites,” but no such term of reproach now exists, though the contemptuous sobriquet “Loblolly-boy” is sometimes seen in old-fashioned nautical novels. Blites were said to be hurtful to the eyes, a belief that draws a scathing remark from Gerarde, “I have heard many old wives say to their servants, ‘Gather no Blites to put in my pottage, for they are not good for the eyesight’; whence they had those words I know not, it may be of some doctor that never went to school.” Culpepper mentions that wild blites “the fishes are delighted with, and it is a good and usual bait, for fishes will bite fast enough at them if you have but wit enough to catch when they bite.” Altogether this insipid vegetable gives scope for a good many sharp things to be said.

Blitum capitatum, usually known as strawberry-spinach, is sometimes grown in flower gardens.

Bloodwort (Lapathum Sanguineum).

The modern Latin name for this dock is Rumex Sanguineus, but Gesner had a more imposing title, Sanguis draconis herba (Dragon’s blood plant). These names are, of course, derived from the crimson colour of its veins, and are the finest thing about it. The little notice it does get is not unmixed praise. “Among the sorts of pot-herbes, Blood-worte hath always been accounted a principall one, although I doe not see any great reason therein.” This is Parkinson’s opinion, but the italics are mine.

Buck’s-horne (Senebiera Coronopus).
As true as steel,
As Plantage to the moon.

Troilus and Cressida, iii. 2.

And plantain ribb’d that heals the reaper’s wound,
And marg’ram sweet, in shepherds’ posies found.

The School-Mistress.—Shenstone.

Buck’s-horne is distinct from Buckshorn Plantain (Plantago Coronopus), but it is the latter which is chiefly interesting, and which is meant here. In Evelyn’s day the Latin name was Cornu Cervinum, and other names are Herba Stella, Herb Ivy and Corne de Cerf. Some kinds of plantain were considered good for wounds, but the saying that “plantage” is true to the moon is hard to solve. Buck’s-horne is a plant that has gone altogether out of fashion. In 1577 Hill wrote, “What care and skil is required in the sowing and ordering of the Buck’s-horne, Strawberries and Mustardseede,”—and how odd it looks now to see it coupled with the two other names, as a cherished object to spend pains upon! Le Quintinye says that the leaves, when tender, were used in “Sallad Furnitures... and the little Birds are very greedy of them.” It used to be held profitable for agues if “the rootes, with the rest of the herb,” were hung about the necke, “as nine to men and seven to women and children, but this as many other are idle amulets of no worth or value... yet, since, it hath been reported to me for a certaintie that the leaves of Buck’shorne Plantane laid to their sides that have an ague, will suddenly ease the fit, as if it had been done by witcherie; the leaves and rootes also beaten with some bay salt and applied to the wrestes, worketh the same effects, which I hold to be more reasonable and proper.” Parkinson is very ready to lay down the law as to the limits of empiricism. He is very severe about a superstition connected with Mugwort, but though the same tradition exists of plantain, and (under Mugwort) he quotes Mizaldus as mentioning it, he says nothing about this folly here. Aubrey, however, gives an account of it in his “Miscellanies.” “The last summer, on the day of St John Baptist, I accidently was walking in the pasture behind Montague House; it was twelve o’clock. I saw there about two or three and twenty young women, most of them well habited, on their knees, very busie, as if they had been weeding. I could not presently learn what the matter was; at last a young man told me that they were looking for a coal under the root of a plantain, to put under their heads that night, and they should dream who would be their husbands. It was to be found that day and hour.” This miraculous “coal” also preserved the wearer from all sorts of diseases.

Camomile (Anthemis nobilis).
Diana!
Have I (to make thee crowns) been gathering still,
Fair-cheek’d Eteria’s yellow camomile?

Br. Pastorals.

Flowers of the field and windflowers springing glad
—In airs Sicilian, and the golden bough
Of sacred Plato, shining in its worth.
. . . With phlox of Phœdimas and chamomile,
The crinkled ox-eye of Antagoras.

Trans. from Meleager.

The healthful balm and mint from their full laps do fly,
The scentful camomile.

Polyolbion, Song xv.

Falstaff. Though the Camomile the more it is trodden on the faster it grows, yet youth the more it is wasted the sooner it wears.—I. Henry IV. ii. 4.

The camomile is dedicated to St Anne, mother of the Virgin Mary, and Mr Friend thinks that the Latin name of wild camomile, Matricaria, comes from a “fanciful derivation” of this word, from mater and cara, or “Beloved Mother.” The name camomile itself is derived from a Greek word meaning “earth-apples,” and its pleasant, refreshing smell is rather like that of ripe apples. The Spaniards call it Manzanilla, “a little apple.” It was grown “both for pleasure and profit, both inward and outward diseases, both for the sicke and the sound,” and was “planted of the rootes in alleys, in walks, and on banks to sit on, for that the more it is trodden upon and pressed down in dry weather, the closer it groweth and the better it will thrive.” This was a common belief in earlier days, as Falstaff’s remark shows.

Culpepper is as trenchant as usual on the subject. “Nichersor, saith the Egyptians, dedicated it to the sun, because it cured agues, and they were like enough to do it, for they were the arrantest apes in their religion I have ever read of.” Why his indignation is so much excited is not clear, but probably it is because Agues (being watery diseases) were under the moon, and therefore they should have dedicated a herb that cured agues to the Moon. However, he holds to the view that camomile is good for all agues, although it is an herb of the sun—who has nothing to do with such diseases, as a rule. Turner criticises Amatus Lusitanus with some shrewdness. This writer, who had apparently taken upon him to teach “Spanyardes, Italians, Frenchmen and Germans the name of Herbes in their tongues, writeth that Camomile is commonlye knowne,” and with this bald statement contented himself. “Wherefore it is lykely he knoweth nether of both [kinds of Camomile]. Wherefore he had done better to have sayde, ‘I do knowe nether of both, then thus shortly to passe by them.’ Camomile is still officinal, and is used for fomentations. ‘If taken internally it should be infused with cold water, as heat dissipates the oil.’”

Feverfew is so nearly related to camomile that it may be mentioned here. Indeed some writers call it “a Wild Camomile,” and give it Matricaria Parthenum for a Latin name. Most botanists, however, place it “in the genus Pyrethrum.” Mr Britten calls it Pyrethrum Parthenium. “Feverfew” comes from “febrifuge,” for it was supposed to have wonderful power to drive away fevers and agues; and it is still a favourite remedy with village people. Nora Hopper brings it in among the fairies:—

There’s many feet on the moor to-night,
And they fall so light as they turn and pass,
So light and true, that they shake no dew,
From the featherfew and the Hungry-Grass.

The Fairy Music.

Cardoons (Cynara Cardunculus).

This plant is also called Spanish Cardoon or Cardoon of Tours. It is a kind of artichoke “which becomes a truly gigantic herbaceous vegetable. The tender stalks of the inner leaves are sometimes blanched and stewed, or used in soups and salads”; but it is much less used in England than on the Continent. Cardoons are said to yield a good yellow dye.

Clary (Salvia Sclarea).
Percely, clarey and eke sage,
And all other herbage.

John Gardener.

“Clary, or more properly Clear-eyes,” which indicates one of its supposed chief virtues plainly enough. Wild Clary was called Oculus Christi, and was even more valued than the garden kind. Clary was once “used for making wine, which resembles Frontignac, and is remarkable for its narcotic qualities.”[39] It was also added to “Ale and Beere in these Northern regions (I think the Netherlands are meant here) to make it the more heady.” The young plant itself was eaten, and an approved way of dressing it was to put it in an omelette “made up with cream, fried in sweet butter” and eaten with sugar and the juice of oranges or lemons. It is now sometimes used to season soups, and Hogg tells us that it was used “in Austria as a perfume; in confectionery, and to the jellies of fruits, it communicates the flavour of pine-apple.” The herbalists speak of a plant called Yellow Clary or “Jupiter’s Distaff,” and Mr Britten suggests that this was Phlomus fruticosa.

[39] Timbs.

Dittander (Lepidium Latifolium).

Dittander or Pepperwort grows wild in a few places in England, but was once cultivated. It was sometimes used as “a sauce or sallet to meate, but is too hot, bitter and strong for everyone’s taste.” These qualities have gained it the names of Poor Man’s Pepper, and from Tusser, Garden Ginger. Culpepper’s opinion is briefly expressed: “Here is another martial herb for you, make much of it.” It is so “hot and fiery sharpe” that it is said to raise a blister on the hand of anyone who holds it for a while, and therefore (on homœopathic principles) it was recommended “to take away marks, scarres... and the marks of burning with fire or Iron.”

Elecampane (Inula Helenium).
Elecampane, the beauteous Helen’s flower,
Mingles among the rest her silver store.

Rapin.

“Some think it took the name from the teares of Helen, from whence it sprang, which is a fable; others that she had her hands full of this herbe when Paris carried her away; others say it was so called because Helen first found it available against the bitings and stingings of venomous beasts; and others thinke that it tooke the name from the Island Helena, where the

1 ... 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 ... 36
Go to page:

Free e-book: «The Book of Herbs by Rosalind Northcote (christmas read aloud txt) 📕»   -   read online now on website american library books (americanlibrarybooks.com)

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Add a comment