Cumin (_Cuminum cyminum_) is not half sufficiently known, or
esteemed as a domestic condiment of medicinal value, and
culinary uses; whilst withal of ready access as one of our
commonest importations from Malta and Sicily for flavouring
purposes, and veterinary preparations. It is an umbelliferous plant,
and large quantities of its seeds are brought every year to England.
The herb has been cultivated in the East from early days, being
called “Cuminum” by the Greeks in classic times. The seeds
possess a strong aromatic odour with a penetrating and bitter taste;
when distilled they yield a pungent powerful essential oil. The
older herbalists esteemed them superior in comforting carminative
[136] qualities to those of the fennel or caraway. They are
eminently useful to correct the flatulence of languid digestion,
serving also to relieve dyspeptic headache, to allay colic of the
bowels, and to promote the monthly flow of women.

In Holland and Switzerland they are employed for flavouring
cheese; whilst in Germany they are added to bread as a condiment.

Here the seeds are introduced in the making of curry powder, and
are compounded to form a stimulating liniment; likewise a
warming plaster for quickening the sluggish congestions of
indolent parts. The odorous volatile oil of the fruit contains the
hydro-carbons “Cymol,” and “Cuminol,” which are redolent of
lemon and caraway odours. A dose of the seeds is from fifteen to
thirty grains. Cumin symbolised cupidity among the Greeks:
wherefore Marcus Antoninus was so nick-named because of his
avarice; and misers were jocularly said to have eaten Cumin.

The herb was thought to specially confer the gift of retention,
preventing the theft of any object which contained it, and holding
the thief in custody within the invaded house; also keeping fowls
and pigeons from straying, and lovers from proving fickle. If a
swain was going off as a soldier, or to work a long way from his
home, his sweetheart would give him a loaf seasoned with Cumin,
or a cup of wine in which some of the herb had been mixed.

The ancients were acquainted with the power of Cumin to cause
the human countenance to become pallid; and as a medicine the
herb is well calculated to cure such pallor of the face when
occurring as an illness. Partridges and pigeons [137] are extremely
fond of the seeds: respecting the scriptural use of which in the
payment of taxes we are reminded (Luke xi. v. 42)–”ye pay tithe
of mint, and anise, and cummin.” It has been discovered by Grisar
that Cumin oil exercises a special action which gives it importance
as a medicine. This is to signally depress nervous reflex
excitability when administered in full doses, as of from two to
eight drops of the oil on sugar. And when the aim is to stimulate
such reflex sensibility as impaired by disease, small diluted doses
of the oil serve admirably to promote this purpose.

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.

The leaf of the unwholesome Water parsnep, or Fool’s Cress,
resembles that of the Water-cress, and grows near it not infrequently:
but the leaves of the true Water-cress never embrace the stem
of the plant as do the leaf stalks of its injurious imitators.
Herrick the joyous poet of “dull Devonshire” dearly loved the
Water-cress, and its kindred herbs. He piously and pleasantly
made them the subject of a quaint grace before meat:–

“Lord, I confess too when I dine
The pulse is Thine:
And all those other bits that be
There placed by Thee:
The wurts, the perslane, and the mess
of Water-cress.”

The true _Nasturtium_ (_Tropoeolum majus_), or greater Indian
Cress grows and is cultivated in our flower gardens as a brilliant
ornamental creeper. It was brought from Peru to France in 1684, and
was called _La grande Capucine_, whilst the botanical title
_tropoeolum_, [133] a trophy, was conferred because of its
shield-like leaves, and its flowers resembling a golden helmet.
An old English name for the same plant was Yellow Lark’s heels.

Two years later it was introduced into England. This partakes of
the sensible and useful qualities of the other cresses. The fresh
plant and the dark yellow flowers have an odour like that of the
Water-cress, and its bruised leaves emit a pungent smell. An
infusion made with water will bring out the antiscorbutic virtues of
the plant which are specially aromatic, and cordial. The flowers
make a pretty and palatable addition to salads, and the nuts or
capsules (which resemble the “cheeses” of Mallow) are esteemed
as a pickle, or as a substitute for Capers. Invalids have often
preferred this plant to the Scurvy grass as an antiscorbutic remedy.
In the warm summer months the flowers have been observed about
the time of sunset to give out sparks, as of an electrical kind,
which were first noticed by a daughter of Linnoeus.

The _Water-cress_ is justly popular with persons who drink freely
overnight, for its power of dissipating the fumes of the liquor, and
of clearing away lethargic inaptitude for work in the morning: also
for dispelling the tremors, and the foul taste induced by excessive
tobacco smoking.

Closely allied thereto is another cruciferous plant, the Scurvy
grass (_Cochleare_), named also “Spoon-wort” from its leaves
resembling in shape the bowl of an old-fashioned spoon. This is
thought to be the famous _Herba Britannica_ of the ancients. Our
great navigators have borne testimony to its never failing use in
scurvy, and, though often growing many miles from the sea, yet
the taste of the herb is always [134] found to be salt. If eaten in
its fresh state, as a salad, it is the most effectual of all the
antiscorbutic plants, the leaves being admirable also to cure
swollen and spongy gums. It grows along the muddy banks of the
Avon, likewise in Wales, and is found in Cumberland, more
commonly near the coast; and again on the mountains of Scotland.
It may be readily cultivated in the garden for medicinal use.

The Cuckoo flower, or “Ladies’ Smock” (Cardamine) from _Cardia
damao_, “I strengthen the heart,” is another wholesome Cress
with the same sensible properties as the Water-cress, only in
an inferior degree, while the strong pungency of its flavour
prevents it from being equally popular. This plant bears also the
names of “Lucy Locket,” and “Smell Smocks.” In Cornwall the
flowering tops have been employed for the cure of epilepsy
throughout several generations with singular success; though the
use of the leaves only for this purpose has caused disappointment.
From one to three drams of these flowering tops are to be taken
two or three times a day.

By the Rev. Mr. Gregor (1793) and by his descendants this
remedy was given for inveterate epilepsy with much benefit.
Lady Holt, and her sister Lady Bracebridge, of Aston Hall,
Warwickshire, were long famous for curing severe cases of the
same infirmity by administering this herb. They gave the
powdered heads of the flowers when in full bloom-twelve grains
three times a day for many weeks together.

Sir George Baker in 1767 read a paper before the London College
of Physicians on the value of these flowers in convulsive
disorders. He related five cures of St. Vitus’ dance, spasmodic
convulsions, and spasmodic asthma. Formerly the flowers were
admitted into the [135] London Pharmacopoeia. The herb was
named Ladies’ Smock in honour of the Virgin Mary, because it
comes first into flower about Lady Day, being abundant with its
delicate lilac blossoms in our moist meadows and marshes:

“Lady Smocks all silver white
Do paint the meadows with delight.”

This plant is also named–”Milk Maids,” “Bread and Milk,” and
“Mayflower.” Gerard says “it flowers in April and May when
the Cuckoo cloth begin to sing her pleasant notes without
stammering.” One of his characters is made by the Poet Laureate
to–

“Steep for Danewulf leaves of Lady Smock,
For they keep strong the heart.”

“And so much,” as says William Cole, herbalist, in his _Paradise
of Plants_, 1650, “for such Plants as cure the Scurvy.”

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.

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.

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.

The Coltsfoot, which grows abundantly throughout England in
places of moist, heavy soil, especially along the sides of our raised
railway banks, has been justly termed “nature’s best herb for the
lungs, and her most eminent thoracic.” Its seeds are supposed to
have lain [117] dormant from primitive times, where our railway
cuttings now upturn them and set them growing anew; and the
rotting foliage of the primeval herb by retaining its juices, is
thought to have promoted the development and growth of our
common earthworm.

The botanical name of Coltsfoot is _Tussilago farfara_, signifying
_tussis ago_, “I drive away a cold”; and _farfar_, the white poplar
tree, which has a similar leaf. It is one of the Composite order, and
the older authors named this plant, _Filius ante patrem_–”the son
before the father,” because the flowers appear and wither before
the leaves are produced. These flowers, at the very beginning of
Spring, stud the banks with gay, golden, leafless blossoms, each
growing on a stiff scaly stalk, and resembling a dandelion in
miniature. The leaves, which follow later on, are made often into
cigars, or are smoked as British herbal tobacco, being mixed for
this purpose with the dried leaves and flowers of the eye-bright,
buckbean, betony, thyme, and lavender, to which some persons
add rose leaves, and chamomile flowers. All these are rubbed
together by the hands into a coarse powder, Coltsfoot forming
quite one-half of the same; and this powder may be very
beneficially smoked for asthma, or for spasmodic bronchial cough.
Linnoeus said, “_Et adhuc hodie plebs in Suecia, instar tabaci
contra tussim fugit_”–”Even to-day the Swiss people cure their
coughs with Coltsfoot employed like tobacco.” When the flowers
are fully blown and fall off, the seeds with their “clock” form a
beautiful head of white flossy silk, and if this flies away when
there is no wind it is said to be a sure sign of coming rain. The
Goldfinch often lines her nest with the soft pappus of the
Coltsfoot. In Paris the Coltsfoot flower is painted on the doorposts
of an apothecary’s house.

[118] From earliest times, the plant has been found helpful in
maladies of the chest. Hippocrates advised it with honey for
“ulcerations of the lungs.” Dioscorides, Pliny, and Galen, severally
commended the use of its smoke, conducted into the mouth
through a funnel or reed, for giving ease to cough and difficult
breathing; they named it _breechion_, from _breex_, a cough.

In taste, the leaves are harsh, bitter, and mucilaginous. They
appear late in March, being green above, with an undersurface
which is white, and cottony. Sussex peasants esteem the white
down of the leaves as a most valuable medicine.

All parts of the plant contain chemically tannin, with a special
bitter principle, and free mucilage; so that the herb is to be
considered emollient, demulcent, and tonic. Dr. Cullen employed a
decoction of the leaves with much benefit in scrofula, where the
use of sea water had failed. And Dr. Fuller tells about a girl cured
of twelve scrofulous sores, by drinking daily, for four months, as
much as she could of Coltsfoot tea, made so strong from the leaves
as to be sweet and glutinous. A modern decoction is prepared from
the herb with boiling water poured on the leaves, and with
liquorice root and honey added.

But, “hark! I hear the pancake bell,” said Poor Richard in his
almanack, 1684; alluding to pancakes then made with Coltsfoot,
like tansies, and fried with saged butter.

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.

Though not generally thought worth more than a passing notice, or
to possess any claims of a medicinal sort, yet the Club Moss,
which is of common growth in Great Britain on heaths and hilly
pastures, exerts by its spores very remarkable curative effects, and
[114] therefore it should be favourably regarded as a Herbal
Simple. It is exclusively due to homoeopathic provings and
practice, that the _Lycopodium clavatum _(Club Moss) takes an
important position amongst the most curative vegetable remedies
of the present day.

The word _lycopodium_ means “wolf’s claw,” because of the
claw-like ends to the trailing stems of this moss; and the word
clavatum signifies that its inflorescence resembles a club. The
spores of Club Moss constitute a fine pale-yellow, dusty powder
which is unctuous, tasteless, inodorous, and only medicinal when
pounded in all agate mortar until the individual spores, or nuts, are
fractured.

By being thus triturated, the nuts give out their contents, which are
shown to be oil globules, wherein the curative virtues of the moss
reside. Sugar of milk is then rubbed up for two hours or more with
the broken spores, so as to compose a medicinal powder, which is
afterwards to be further diluted; or a tincture is made from the
fractured spores, with spirit of ether, which will develop their
specific medicinal properties. The Club Moss, thus prepared,
has been experimentally taken by provers in varying material
doses; and is found through its toxical affinities in this way
to be remarkably useful for chronic mucous indigestion and
mal-nutrition, attended with sallow complexion, slow, difficult
digestion, flatulence, waterbrash, heartburn, decay of bodily
strength, and mental depression. It is said that whenever a fan-like
movement of the wings of the nostrils can be observed during the
breathing, the whole group of symptoms thus detailed is _specially_
curable by Club Moss.

As a dose of the triturated powder, reduced to a weaker
dilution, ten grains may be taken twice a day [115] mixed with a
dessertspoonful of water; or of the tincture largely reduced in
strength, ten drops twice a day in like manner. Chemically, the oil
globules extracted from the spores contain “alumina” and
“phosphoric acid.” The diluted powder has proved practically
beneficial for reducing the swelling and for diminishing the
pulsation of aneurism when affecting a main blood-vessel of the
heart.

In Cornwall the Club Moss is considered good against most
diseases of the eyes, provided it be gathered on the third day of the
moon when first seen; being shown the knife whilst the gatherer
repeats these words:–

“As Christ healed the issue of blood,
Do thou cut what thou cut test for good.”

“Then at sundown the Club Moss should be cut by the operator
whilst kneeling, and with carefully washed hands. It is to be
tenderly wrapped in a fair white cloth, and afterwards boiled in
water procured from the spring nearest the spot where it grew,”
and the liquor is to be applied as a fomentation; or the Club Moss
may be “made into an ointment with butter from the milk of a new
cow.” Such superstitious customs had without doubt a Druidic
origin, and they identify the Club Moss with the Selago, or golden
herb, “Cloth of Gold” of the Druids. This was reputed to confer the
power of understanding the language of birds and beasts, and was
intimately connected with some of their mysterious rites; though
by others it is thought to have been a sort of Hedge Hyssop
(_Gratiola_).

The Common Lycopodium bears in some, districts the name of
“Robin Hood’s hatband.” Its unmoistenable powder from the
spores is a capital absorbing application to weeping, raw surfaces.
At the shops, this [116] powder of the Club Moss spores is sold as
“witch meal,” or “vegetable sulphur.” For trade purposes it is
obtained from the ears of a Wolfsfoot Moss, the Lycopodium
clavatum, which grows in the forests of Russia and Finland. The
powder is yellow of colour, dust-like and smooth to the touch.
Half a drachm of it given during July in any proper vehicle has
been esteemed “a noble remedy to cure stone in the bladder.”
Being mixed with black pepper, it was recognized by the College
of Physicians in 1721 as a medicine of singular value for
preventing and curing hydrophobia. Dr. Mead, who had repeated
experience of its worth, declared that he never knew it to fail when
combined with cold bathing.

Club Moss powder ignites with a flicker, and is used for stage
lightning. It is the _Blitzmehl_, or lightning-meal of the Germans,
who give it in doses of from fifteen to twenty grains for the cure of
epilepsy in children.

When the “Mortal Struggle” was produced (see _Nicholas Nickleby_)
by Mr. Vincent Crummles at Portsmouth, with the aid of Miss
Snevelicci, and the Infant Phenomenon, lurid lightning was
much in request to astonish the natives; and this was sufficiently
well simulated by igniting, with a sudden flash and a hiss,
highly inflammable spores of the Club Moss projected against
burning tow within a hollow cone, producing weird scenic effects

In this country we possess about twenty species of the trefoil, or
Clover, which is a plant so well known in its general features by
its abundance in every field and on every grass plot, as not to need
any detailed description. The special variety endowed with
medicinal and curative virtues, is the Meadow Clover (_Trifolium
pratense_), or red clover, called by some, Cocksheads, and
familiar to children as Suckles, or Honey-suckles, because of the
abundant nectar in the long tubes of its corollae. Other names for it
are Bee-bread, and Smere. An extract of this red clover is now
confidently said to have the power of healing scrofulous sores, and
of curing cancer. The _New York Tribune_ of September, 1884,
related a case of indisputable cancer of the breast of six years’
standing, with an open fetid sore, which had penetrated the
chest-wall between the ribs, and which was radically healed by a
prolonged internal use of the extract of red clover. Four years
afterwards, in September, 1888, “the breast was found to be
restored to its normal condition, all but a small place the size of
half a dollar, which will in every probability become absorbed like
[111] the rest, so that the patient is considered by her physicians to
be absolutely cured.”

The likelihood is that whatever virtue the red clover can boast for
counteracting a scrofulous disposition, and as antidotal to cancer,
resides in its highly-elaborated lime, silica, and other earthy salts.
Moreover, this experience is not new. Sir Spencer Wells, twenty
years ago, recorded some cases of confirmed cancer cured by
taking powdered and triturated oyster shells; whilst egg shells
similarly reduced to a fine dust have proved equally efficacious. It
is remarkable that if the moorlands in the North of England, and in
some parts of Ireland, are turned up for the first time, and strewed
with lime, white clover springs up there in abundance.

Again, a syrup is made from the flowers of the red clover, which
has a trustworthy reputation for curing whooping-cough, and of
which a teaspoonful may be taken three or four times in the day.
Also stress is laid on the healing of skin eruptions in children, by a
decoction of the purple and white meadow trefoils.

The word clover is a corruption of the Latin _clava_ a club; and
the “clubs” on our playing cards are representations of clover
leaves; whilst in France the same black suit is called _trefle_.

A conventional trefoil is figured on our coins, both Irish and
English, this plant being the National Badge of Ireland. Its charm
has been ever supposed there as an unfailing protection against
evil influences, as is attested by the spray in the workman’s cap,
and in the bosom of the cotter’s wife.

The clover trefoil is in some measure a sensitive plant; “its
leaves,” said Pliny, “do start up as if afraid of an assault when
tempestuous weather is at hand.”

[112] The phrase, “living in clover,” alludes to cattle being put to
feed in rich pasturage.

A sworn foe to the purple clover cultivated by farmers, is the
Dodder (_Cuscuta trifolii_), a destructive vegetable parasite which
strangles the plants in a crafty fashion, and which goes by the
name of “hellweed,” or “devil’s guts.” It lies in ambush like a
pigmy field octopus, with deadly suckers for draining the sap of its
victims. These it mats together in its wiry, sinuous coils, and
chokes relentlessly by the acre. Nevertheless, the petty garotter–
like a toad, “ugly and venomous, wears yet a precious jewel in its
head.” “If boiled,” says Hill, “with a little ginger, the dodder in
decoction works briskly as a purge. Also, the thievish herb, when
bruised and applied externally to scrofulous tumours, is an
excellent remedy.”

The word “dodder” signifies the plural of “dodd,” a bunch of
threads. The parasite is sometimes called “Red tangle” and “Lady’s
laces.”

Its botanical name _Cuscuta_ comes from the Greek _Kassuo_–to
sew together. If the piece of land infested with it is closely mown
(and the cut material carried away unshaken), being next covered
with deal saw-dust, on which a ten per cent. solution of sulphate of
iron is freely poured, then by combining with the tannin contained
in the stems of the Dodder, this will serve to kill the parasite
without doing any injury to the clover or lucerne. Although a
parasite the plant springs every year from seed. It is a remedy for
swooning or fainting fits.

The Sweet Clover (or yellow Melilot), when prepared as a tincture
(H.), with spirit of wine, and given as a medicine in material
doses, causes, in sensitive persons, a severe headache, sometimes
with a determination of [113] blood to the head, and bleeding from
the nose. When administered, on the principle of curative affinity,
in much smaller doses, it is singularly beneficial against nervous
headaches, with oppression of the brain, acting helpfully within
five minutes. Dr. Hughes (Brighton) writes: “I value this medicine
much in nervous headaches, and I always carry it in my pocket-case–
as the mother tincture–which I generally administer _by olfaction_.”
For epilepsy, it is said in the United States of America
to be “the one grand master-remedy,” by giving a drop of the
tincture every five minutes during the attack, and five drops five
times a day in water, for some weeks afterwards.

The Melilot (from _mel_, honey, and _lotus_, because much liked
by bees) is known as Plaster Clover from its use since Galen’s time
in plasters for dispersing tumours. Continental physicians still
employ the same made of melilot, wax, resin, and olive oil. The
plant contains, “Coumarin” in common with the Sweet Woodruff,
and the Tonquin Bean. Other names for it are “Harts’ Clover,”
because deer delight to feed on it and “King’s Clover” or “Corona
Regis,” because “the yellow flouers doe crown the top of the
stalkes as with a chaplet of gold.” It is an herbaceous plant
common in waste places, and having light green leaves; when
dried it smells like Woodruff, or new hay.

This well-known plant, a native of Southern Europe, and belonging
to the Ranunculus order, is grown commonly in our gardens
for the sake of its showy white flowers, conspicuous in winter,
from December to February. The root has been famous since
time immemorial as a remedy for insanity. From its abundant
growth in the Grecian island of Anticyra arose the proverb:
_Naviget Anticyram_–”Take a voyage to Anticyra,” as applied
by way of advice to a man who has lost his reason.

When fresh the root is very acrid, and will blister the skin. If dried
and given as powder it will cause vomiting and purging, also
provoking sneezing when smelt, and inducing the monthly flow of
a woman. This root contains a chemical glucoside–”helleborin,”
which, if given in full doses, stimulates the kidneys to such an
excess that their function becomes temporarily paralyzed. It
therefore happens that a medicinal tincture (H.) made from the
fresh root collected at Christmas, just before the plant would
flower, when [108] taken in small doses, will promptly relieve
dropsy, especially a sudden dropsical swelling of the skin, with
passive venous congestion of the kidneys, as in scrofulous
children.

A former method of administering the root was by sticking a
particularly sweet apple full of its fibres, and roasting this under
hot embers; then the fibres were withdrawn, and the apple was
eaten by the patient.

Taken by mischance in any quantity the root is highly poisonous:
one ounce of a watery decoction has caused death in eight hours,
with vomiting, giddiness, insensibility, and palsy. Passive dropsy
in children after scarlet fever may be effectually cured by small
doses of the tincture, third decimal strength.

The name Hellebore, as applied to the plant, comes from the
Greek _Elein_–to injure, and _Bora_–fodder. It is also known as
_Melampodium_, being thus designated because Melampus, a
physician in the Peloponnesus (B.C. 1530) watched the effect on
his goats when they had eaten the leaves, and cured therewith the
insane daughters of Proetus, King of Argos.

It was famous among the Egyptian and Greek doctors of old as the
most effectual remedy for the diseases of mania, epilepsy,
apoplexy, dropsy, and gout. The tincture is very useful in mental
stupor, with functional impairment of the hearing and sight;
likewise for strumous water on the brain.

The original reputation of this herb was acquired because of its
purgative properties, which enabled it to carry off black bile which
was causing insanity.

No tannin is contained in the root. A few drops of the juice
obtained therefrom, if dropped warm into the ear each night and
morning, will cure singing and noises in the ears. A proper dose of
the powdered root [109] is from five to ten grains. Snuff made
with this powder has cured night blindness, as among the French
prisoners at Norman Cross in 1806. The Gauls used to rub the
points of their hunting spears with Hellebore, believing the game
they killed was thus rendered more tender. Hahnemann said that at
least one third of the cases of insanity occurring in lunatic asylums
may be cured by this and the white Hellebore (an allied plant) in
such small doses as of the tincture twelfth dilution, given in the
patient’s drink.

A bastard Hellebore, which is _foetidus_, or, “stinking,” and is
known to rustics as Bearsfoot, because of its digitate leaves, grows
frequently near houses in this country, though a doubtful native.
The sepals of its flowers are purple, and the leaves are evergreen;
the petals are green and leaf-like, whilst the nectaries are large and
tubular, often containing small flies. The nectar is reputed to be
poisonous. Again, this plant bears the names Pegroots, Oxbeel,
Oxheal, and Setterwort, because used for “settering” cattle. A
piece of the root is inserted as a seton (so-called from _seta_–a
hank of silk) into the dewlap, and this is termed “pegging,” or,
“settering,” for the benefit of diseased lungs. “The root,” says
Gerard, “consists of many small black strings, involved or wrapped
one within another very intricately.” The smell of the fresh plant is
extremely fetid, and, when taken, it will purge, or provoke
vomiting. The leaves are very useful for expelling worms. Dr.
Woodville says their juice made into a syrup, with coarse sugar, is
almost the only vermifuge he had used against round worms for
three years past. “If these leaves be dried in an oven after the bread
is drawne out, and the powder thereof be taken in a figge, or raisin,
or strewed upon a piece of [110] bread spread with honey, and
eaten, it killeth worms in children exceedingly.” A decoction made
with one drachm of the green leaves, or about fifteen grains of the
dried leaves in powder, is the usual dose for a child between four
and six years of age; but a larger dose will provoke sickness, or
diarrhoea. The medicine should be repeated on two or three
consecutive mornings; and it will be found that the second dose
acts more powerfully than the first, “never failing to expel round
worms by stool, if there be any lodged in the alimentary tube.”

Chickweed–called _Alsine_ or _Stellaria media_, a floral star of
middle magnitude–belongs to the Clove-pink order of plants, and,
despite the most severe weather, grows with us all the year round,
in waste places by the roadsides, and as a garden weed. It is easily
known by its fresh-looking, juicy, verdant little leaves, and by its
tiny white star-like flowers; also by a line of small stiff hairs,
which runs up one side of the stalk like a vegetable hog-mane, and
when it reaches a pair of leaves immediately shifts its position, and
runs up higher on the opposite side.

The fact of our finding Chickweed (and Groundsel) in England, as
well as on the mainland of Europe, affords a proof that Britain,
when repeopled after the great Ice age, must have been united
somewhere to the continent; and its having lasted from earliest
times throughout Europe, North America, and Siberia, seems to
show that this modest plant must be possessed of some universal
utility which has enabled it to hold its own [106] until now in the
great evolutionary struggle. It grows wild allover the earth, and
serves as food for small birds, such as finches, linnets, and other
feathered songsters of the woods. Moreover, we read in the old
herbal of Turner: _Qui alunt aviculas caveis inclusas hoc solent
illas si quando cibos fastigiant recreare_–or, as Gerard translates
this: “Little birds in cages are refreshed with Chickweed when
they loath their meat.”

The Chickweed is termed _Alsine–quia lucos, vel alsous amat_–
because it loves to grow in shady places This small herb abounds
with the earthy salts of potash, which are admirable against
scurvy when thus found in nature’s laboratory, and a continued
deprivation from which always proves disastrous to mankind.
“The water of Chickweed,” says an old writer, “is given to
children for their fits, and its juice is used for their gripes.” When
boiled, the plant may be eaten instead of Spinach. Its fresh juice if
rubbed on warts, first pared to the quick, will presently cause them
to fall off.

Fresh Chickweed juice, as proved medicinally in 1893, produced
sharp rheumatic pains and stitches in the head and eyes, with a
general feeling of being bruised; also pressure about the liver and
soreness there, with sensations of burning, and of bilious
indigestion. Subsequently, the herb, when given in quite small
doses of tincture, or fresh juice, or infusion, has been found by its
affinity to remove the train of symptoms just described, and to act
most reliably in curing obstinate rheumatism allied therewith.
Furthermore, a poultice prepared from the fresh green juicy leaves,
is emollient and cooling, whilst an ointment made from them with
hog’s lard, is manifestly healing.

When rain is impending, the flowers remain closed; [107] and the
plant teaches an exemplary matrimonial lesson, seeing that at night
its leaves approach one another in loving pairs, and sleep with the
tender buds protected between them. Culpeper says: “Chickweed
is a fine, soft, pleasing herb, under the dominion of the moon, and
good for many things.” Parkinson orders thus: “To make a salve fit
to heal sore legs, boil a handful of Chickweed with a handful of
red rose leaves in a pint of the oil of trotters or sheep’s feet, and
anoint the grieved places therewith against a fire each evening and
morning; then bind some of the herb, if ye will, to the sore, and so
shall ye find help, if God will.”