Part 11
A century later it was still the fashion to treat consumptive young women with quaint remedies. Mrs. Delaney writes in 1758, "Does Mary cough in the Night? two or three snails boiled in her barley water may be of great service to her."
Again, the confectioner provides Coltsfoot rock, [119] concocted in fluted sticks of a brown colour, as a sweetmeat, and flavoured with some essential oil--as aniseed, or dill--these sticks being well beloved by most schoolboys. The dried leaves, when soaked out in warm water, will serve as an excellent emollient poultice. A certain preparation, called "Essence of Coltsfoot," found great favour with our grand sires for treating their colds. This consisted of Balsam of Tolu and Friar's Balsam in equal parts, together with double the quantity of Spirit of Wine. It did not really contain a trace of Coltsfoot, and the nostrum was provocative of inflammation, because of the spirit in excess. Dr. Paris said: "And this, forsooth, is a pectoral for coughs! If a patient with a catarrh should recover whilst using such a remedy, I should certainly designate it a lucky escape, rather than a skilful cure." Gerard wrote about Coltsfoot: "The fume of the dried leaves, burned upon coles, effectually helpeth those that fetch their winde thicke, and breaketh without peril the impostumes of the brest"; also "the green leaves do heal the hot inflammation called Saint Anthony's fire."
The names of the herb--Coltsfoot, and Horsehoof--are derived from the shape of the leaf. It is likewise known as Asses' foot, and Cough wort; also as Foal's foot, and Bull's foot, Hoofs, and (in Yorkshire) Cleats.
To make an infusion or decoction of the plant for a confirmed cough, or for chronic bronchitis, pour a pint of boiling water on an ounce of the dried leaves and flowers, and take half a teacupful of it when cold three or four times in the day. The silky down of the seed-heads is used in the Highlands for stuffing pillows, and the presence of coal is said to be indicated by an abundant growth of the herb.
Another species, the Butter bur (_Tussilago petasites_), [120] is named from _petasus_, an umbrella, or a broad covering for the head. It produces the largest leaves of any plant in Great Britain, which sometimes measure three feet in breadth. This plant was thought to be of great use in the time of the plague, and thus got the names of Pestilent wort, Plague flower and Bog Rhubarb. Both it, and the Coltsfoot, are specific remedies (H.) for severe and obstinate neuralgia in the small of the back, and the loins, a medicinal tincture being prepared from each herb.
COMFREY.
The Comfrey of our river banks, and moist watery places, is the _Consound_, or Knit-back, or Bone-set, and Blackwort of country folk; and the old _Symphytum_ of Dioscorides. It has derived these names from the consolidating and vulnerary qualities attributed to the plant, from _confirmo_, to strengthen together, or the French, _comfrie_. This herb is of the Borage tribe, and is conspicuous by its height of from one to two feet, its large rough leaves, which provoke itching when handled, and its drooping white or purple flowers growing on short stalks. Chemically, the most important part of the plant is its "mucilage." This contains tannin, asparagin, sugar, and starch granules. The roots are sweet, sticky, and without any odour. "_Quia tanta proestantia est_," says Pliny, "_ut si carnes duroe coquuntur conglutinet addita; unde nomen!_"--"and the roots be so glutinative that they will solder or glew together meat that is chopt in pieces, seething in a pot, and make it into one lump: the same bruysed, and lay'd in the manner of a plaister, doth heale all fresh and green wounds." These roots are very brittle, and the least bit of them will start growing afresh.
[121] The whole plant, beaten to a cataplasm, and applied hot as a poultice, has always been deemed excellent for soothing pain in any tender, inflamed or suppurating part. It was formerly applied to raw indolent ulcers as a glutinous astringent, and most useful vulnerary. Pauli recommended it for broken bones, and externally for wounds of the nerves, tendons, and arteries. More recently surgeons have declared that the powdered root (which, when broken, is white within, and full of a slimy juice), if dissolved in water to a mucilage, is far from contemptible for bleedings, fractures, and luxations, whilst it hastens the callus of bones under repair. Its strong decoction has been found very useful in Germany for tanning leather. The leaves were formerly employed for giving a flavour to cakes and panada.
A modern medicinal tincture (H.) is made from the root-stock with spirit of wine; and ten drops of this should be taken three or four times a day with a tablespoonful of cold water. French nurses treat cracked nipples by applying a hollow section of the fresh root over the sore caruncle; and a decoction of the root made by boiling from two to four drachms in a pint of water, is given for bleedings from the lungs or bladder.
The name _Consound_, owned by the Common Comfrey, was given likewise to the daisy and the bugle, in the middle ages. "It joyeth," says Gerard, "in watery ditches, in fat and fruitful meadows." A solve concocted from the fresh herb will certainly tend to promote the healing of bruised and broken parts, suggesting as an appropriate motto for the salve box: "Behold how good and pleasant a thing it is to dwell together in unity! It is like the precious ointment which ran down Aaron's beard." Some foreknowledge [122] of the Comfrey perhaps inspired the Prophet Isaiah to predict that after a time "the heart should rejoice and the bones flourish like a herb." The Poet Laureate tells of
"This, the Consound, Whereby the lungs are eased of their grief."
About a century ago, the _Prickly Comfrey_--a variety of our Consound--was naturalised in this country from the Caucasus, and has since proved itself amazingly productive to farmers, as, when cultivated, it will grow six crops in the year; and the plant is both preventive and curative of foot and mouth disease in cattle. It bears flowers of a rich blue colour.
From our Common Comfrey a sort of glue is got in Angora, which is used for spinning the famous fleeces of that country. Mr. Cockayne relates that the locksman at Teddington informed him how the bone of his little finger being broken, was grinding and grunching so sadly for two months, that sometimes he felt quite wrong in his head. One day he saw a doctor go by, and told him about the distress. The doctor said: "You see that Comfrey growing there? Take a piece of its root, and champ it, and put it about your finger, and wrap it up." The man did so, and in four days his finger was well.
CORIANDER.
Coriander comfits, sold by the confectioner as admirably warming to the stomach, and corrective of flatulence, consist of small aromatic seeds coated with white sugar. These are produced by the Coriander, an umbelliferous herb cultivated in England from early times for medicinal and culinary uses, though introduced at first from the Mediterranean. It has now [123] become wild as an escape, growing freely in our fields and waste places. Farmers produce it, especially about Essex, under the name of Col, the crops being mown down when ripe, and the fruits being then thrashed out to procure the seeds. The generic name has been derived from _koros_, a bug; alluding to the stinking odour of the bruised leaves, though these, when dried, are fragrant, and pleasant of smell. In some countries, as Egypt and Peru, they are taken in soups. The seeds are cordial, but become narcotic if used too freely. When distilled with water they yield a yellow essential oil of a very aromatic and strong odour.
Coriander water was formerly much esteemed as a carminative for windy colic. Being so aromatic and comfortably stimulating, the fruit is commended for aiding the digestion of savoury pastry, and to correct the griping tendencies of such medicines as senna and rhubarb. It contains malic acid, tannin, the special volatile oil of the herb, and some fatty matter.
Distillers of gin make use of this fruit, and veterinary surgeons employ it as a drug for cattle and horses. Alston says, "The green herb--seeds and all--stinks intolerably of bugs"; and Hoffman admonishes, "_Si largius sumptura fuerit semen non sine periculo e sua sede et statu demovet, et qui sumpsere varia dictu pudenda blaterant_." The fruits are blended with curry powder, and are chosen to flavour several liquors. By the Chinese a power of conferring immortality is thought to be possessed by the seeds. From a passage in the Book of Numbers where manna is likened to Coriander seed, it would seem that this seed was familiar to the Israelites and used by them for domestic purposes. Robert Turner says when taken in wine it stimulates the animal passions.
[124] COWSLIP.
Our English pastures and meadows, especially where the soil is of blue lias clay, become brilliantly gay, "with gaudy cowslips drest," quite early in the spring. But it is a mistake to suppose that these flowers are a favourite food with cows, who, in fact, never eat them if they can help it. The name Cowslip is really derived, says Dr. Prior, from the Flemish words, _kous loppe_, meaning "hose flap," a humble part of woollen nether garments. But Skeat thinks it arose from the fact that the plant was supposed to spring up where a patch of cow dung had fallen.
Originally, the Mullein--which has large, oval, woolly leaves-- and the Cowslip were included under one common Latin name, _Verbascum_; for which reason the attributes of the Mullein still remain accredited by mistake to the second plant. Former medical writers called the Cowslip _herba paralysis_, or, "palsywort," because of its supposed efficacy in relieving paralysis. The whole plant is known to be gently narcotic and somniferous. Pope praised the herb and its flowers on account of their sedative qualities:--
"For want of rest, Lettuce and Cowslip wine--_Probatum est_."
Whilst Coleridge makes his _Christabel_ declare with reference to the fragrant brew concocted from its petals, with lemons and sugar:--
"It is a wine of virtuous powers, My mother made it of wild flowers."
Physicians for the last two centuries have used the powdered roots of the Cowslip (and the Primrose) for wakefulness, hysterical attacks, and muscular rheumatism; and the cowslip root was named of old both [124] _radix paralyseos_, and _radix arthritica_. This root, and the flowers, have an odour of anise, which is due to their containing some volatile oil identical with mannite. Their more acrid principle is "saponin." Hill tells us that when boiled in ale, the roots are taken by country persons for giddiness, with no little success. "They be likewise in great request among those that use to hunt after goats and roebucks on high mountains, for the strengthening of the head when they pass by fearful precipices and steep places, in following their game, so that giddiness and swimming of the brain may not seize upon them." The dose of the dried and powdered flowers is from fifteen to twenty grains. A syrup of a fine yellow colour may also be made from the petals, which answers the same purposes. Three pounds of the fresh blossoms should be infused in five pints of boiling water, and then simmered down to a proper consistence with sugar.
Herbals of the Elizabethan date, say that an ointment made from cowslip flowers "taketh away the spots and wrinkles of the skin, and doth add beauty exceedingly, as divers ladies, gentlewomen, and she citizens--whether wives or widows--know well enough."
The tiny people were then supposed to be fond of nestling in the drooping bells of Cowslips, and hence the flowers were called fairy cups; and, in accordance with the doctrine of signatures, they were thought effective for removing freckles from the face.
"In their gold coats spots you see, These be rubies: fairy favours. In these freckles live their savours."
The cluster of blossoms on a single stalk sometimes bears the name of "lady's keys" or "St. Peter's wort," either because it resembles a bunch of keys as St. [126] Peter's badge, or because as _primula veris_ it unlocks the treasures of spring.
Cowslip flowers are frequently done up by playful children into balls, which they call tisty tosty, or simply a tosty. For this purpose the umbels of blossoms fully blown are strung closely together, and tied into a firm ball.
The leaves were at one time eaten in salad, and mixed with other herbs to stuff meat, whilst the flowers were made into a delicate conserve.
Yorkshire people call this plant the Cowstripling; and in Devonshire, where it is scarcely to be found, because of the red marl, it has come about that the foxglove goes by the name of Cowslip. Again, in some provincial districts, the Cowslip is known as Petty Mullein, and in others as Paigle (Palsywort). The old English proverb, "As blake as a paigle," means, "As yellow as a cowslip."
One word may be said here in medicinal favour of the poor cow, whose association with the flower now under discussion has been so unceremoniously disproved. The breath and smell of this sweet-odoured animal are thought in Flintshire to be good against consumption. Henderson tells of a blacksmith's apprentice who was restored to health when far advanced in a decline, by taking the milk of cows fed in a kirkyard. In the south of Hampshire, a useful plaster of fresh cow-dung is applied to open wounds. And even in its evolutionary development, the homely animal reads us a lesson; for _Dat Deus immiti cornua curta bovi_, says the Latin proverb--"Savage cattle have only short horns." So was it in "the House that Jack built," where the fretful creature that tossed the dog had but one horn, and this grew crumpled.
[127] CRESSES.
The Cress of the herbalist is a noun of multitude: it comprises several sorts, differing in kind but possessing the common properties of wholesomeness and pungency. Here "order in variety we see"; and here, "though all things differ, all agree." The name is thought by some to be derived from the Latin verb _crescere_, to grow fast.
Each kind of Cress belongs to the Cruciferous genus of plants; whence comes, perhaps, the common name The several varieties of Cress are stimulating and anti-scorbutic, whilst each contains a
## particular essential principle, of acrid flavour, and of sharp biting
qualities. The whole tribe is termed _lepidium_, or "siliquose," scaly, with reference to the shape of the seed-pouches. It includes "Land Cress (formerly dedicated to St. Barbara); Broad-leaved Cress (or the Poor-man's pepper); Penny Cress (_thlapsus_); Garden, or Town Cress; and the well known edible Water Cress." Formerly the Greeks attached much value to the whole order of Cresses, which they thought very beneficial to the brain. A favourite maxim with them was, "Eat Cresses, and get wit."
In England these plants have long been cultivated as a source of profit; whence arose the saying that a graceless fellow is not worth a "kurse" or cress--in German, _kers_. Thus Chaucer speaks about a character in the _Canterbury Tales_, "Of paramours ne fraught he not a kers." But some writers have referred this saying rather to the wild cherry or kerse, making it of the same significance as our common phrase, "Not worth a fig."
As Curative Herbal Simples we need only consider the Garden or Town Cress, and the Water Cress: whilst regarding the other varieties rather as condiments, and [128] salad herbs to be taken by way of pleasant wholesome appetisers at table. These aromatic herbs were employed to season the homely dishes of our forefathers, before commerce had brought the spices of the East at a cheap rate to our doors; and Cresses were held in common favour by peasants for such a purpose. The black, or white pepper of to-day, was then so costly that "to promise a saint yearly a pound of it was considered a liberal bequest." And therefore the leaves of wild Cresses were eaten as a substitute for giving pungency to the food. Remarkable among these was the _Dittander Sativus_, a species found chiefly near the sea, with foliage so hot and acrid, that the plant then went by the name of "Poor-man's Pepper," or "Pepper Wort." Pliny said, "It is of the number of scorching and blistering Simples." "This herbe," says Lyte, "is fondly and unlearnedly called in English Dittany. It were better in following the Dutchmen to name it Pepperwort."
The _Garden Cress_, called _Sativum_ (from _satum_, a pasture), is the sort commonly coupled with the herb Mustard in our familiar "Mustard and Cress." It has been grown in England since the middle of the sixteenth century, and its other name _Town_ Cress refers to its cultivation in "tounes," or enclosures. It was also known as Passerage; from _passer_, to drive away--rage, or madness, because of its reputed power to expel hydrophobia. "This Garden Cress," said Wm. Coles in his _Paradise of Plants_, 1650, "being green, and therefore more qualified by reason of its humidity, is eaten by country people, either alone with butter, or with lettice and purslane, in Sallets, or otherwise."
It contains sulphur, and a special ardent volatile medicinal oil. The small leaves combined with those of [129] our white garden Mustard are excellent against rheumatism and gout. Likewise it is a preventive of scurvy by reason of its mineral salts. In which salutary respects the twin plants, Mustard and Cress, are happily consorted, and well play a capital common part, like the "two single gentlemen rolled into one" of George Colman, the younger.
The _Water Cress_ (_Nasturtium officinale_) is among cresses, to use an American simile, the "finest toad in the puddle." This is because of its superlative medicinal worth, and its great popularity at table. Early writers called the herb "Shamrock," and common folk now-a-days term it the "Stertion." Zenophon advised the Persians to feed their children on Water-cresses (_kardamon esthie_) that they might grow in stature and have active minds.
The Latin name _Nasturtium_ was given to the Watercress because of its volatile pungency when bruised and smelt; from _nasus_, a nose, and _tortus_, turned away, it being so to say, "a herb that wriths or twists the nose." For the same reason it is called _Nasitord_ in France. When bruised its leaves affect the eyes and nose almost like mustard. They have been usefully applied to the scald head and tetters of children. In New Zealand the stems grow as thick as a man's wrist, and nearly choke some of the rivers. Like an oyster, the Water-cress is in proper season only when there is an "r" in the month.
According to an analysis made recently in the School of Pharmacy at Paris, the Water-cress contains a sulpho-nitrogenous oil, iodine, iron, phosphates, potash, certain other earthy salts, a bitter extract, and water. Its volatile oil which is rich in nitrogen and sulphur (problematical) is the sulpho-cyanide of allyl. Anyhow [130] there is much sulphur possessed by the whole plant in one form or another, together with a considerable quantity of mineral matter. Thus the popular plant is so constituted as to be particularly curative of scrofulous affections, especially in the spring time, when the bodily humours are on the ferment. Dr. King Chambers writes (_Diet in Health and Disease_), "I feel sure that the infertility, pallor, fetid breath, and bad teeth which characterise some of our town populations are to a great extent due to their inability to get fresh anti-scorbutic vegetables as articles of diet: therefore I regard the Water-cress seller as one of the saviours of her country." Culpeper said pithily long ago: "They that will live in health may eat Water-cress if they please; and if they won't, I cannot help it."
The scrofula to which the Water-cress and its allied plants are antidotal, got its name from _scrofa_, "a burrowing pig," signifying the radical destruction of important glands in the body by this undermining constitutional disease. Possibly the quaint lines which nurses have long been given to repeat for the amusement of babies while fondling their infantine fingers bear a hidden meaning which pointedly imports the scrofulous taint. This nursery distich, as we remember, personates the fingers one by one as five little fabulous pigs:--the first small piggy doesn't feel well; and the second one threatens the doctor to tell; the third little pig has to linger at home; and the fourth small porker of meat has none; then the fifth little pig, with a querulous note, cries "weak, weak, weak" from its poor little throat.
"oegrotat multis doloribus porculus ille: Ille rogat fratri medicum proferre salutem: Debilis ille domi mansit vetitus abire; Carnem digessit nunquam miser porculus ille; 'Eheu!' ter repetens, 'eheu!' perporculus, 'eheu!' Vires exiguas luget plorante susurro."
[131] On account of its medicinal constituents the herb has been deservedly extolled as a specific remedy for tubercular consumption of the lungs. Haller says: "We have seen patients in deep declines cured by living almost entirely on this plant;" and it forms the chief ingredient of the _Sirop Antiscorbutique _given so successfully by the French faculty in scrofula and other allied diseases. Its active principles are at their best when the plant is in flower; and the amount of essential oil increases according to the quantity of sunlight which the leaves obtain, the proportion of iron being determined according to the quality of the water, and the measure of phosphates by the supply of dressing afforded. The leaves remain green when grown in the shade, but become of a purple brown because of their iron when exposed to the sun. The expressed juice, which contains the peculiar taste and pungency of the herb, may be taken in doses of from one to two fluid ounces at each of the three principal meals, and it should always be had fresh. When combined with the juice of Scurvy grass and of Seville oranges it makes the popular antiscorbutic medicine known as "Spring juices."
A Water-cress cataplasm applied cold in a single layer, and with a pinch of salt sprinkled thereupon makes a most useful poultice to heal foul scrofulous ulcers; and will also help to resolve glandular swellings.
Water-cresses squeezed and laid against warts were said by the Saxon leeches to work a certain cure on these excrescences. In France the Water-cress is dipped in oil and vinegar to be eaten at table with chicken or a steak. The Englishman takes it at his morning or evening meal, with bread and butter, or at dinner in a salad. It loses some of its pungent flavour and of its curative qualities [132] when cultivated; and therefore it is more appetising and useful when freshly gathered from natural streams. But these streams ought to be free from contamination by sewage matter, or any drainage which might convey the germs of fever, or other blood poison: for, as we are admonished, the Water-cress plant acts as a brush in impure running brooks to detain around its stalks and leaves any dirty disease-bringing flocculi.
Some of our leading druggists now make for medicinal use a liquid extract of the _Nasturtium officinale_, and a spirituous juice (or _succus_) of the plant. These preparations are of marked service in scorbutic cases, where weakness exists without wasting, and often with spongy gums, or some skin eruption. They are best when taken with lemon juice.