The old herbalists used so many herbs and found each one good for so many disorders that one is filled with wonder that patients ever died, till one examines into the prescriptions and methods generally, and then one is more astonished that any of them recovered. I shall not mention any prescriptions here, excepting the celebrated antidote to all poison, Venice Treacle. This included seventy-three ingredients, and was evolved from an earlier and also famous nostrum, the Mithridaticum, originated by Mithridates, King of Pontus. Of course, this “treacle” was in no way connected with the sugary syrup we call by this name, but is a corruption of the Latin—Theriaca, a counter poison. Venice Treacle is an extreme example of the multitude of conflicting elements that were massed together and boldly administered in ancient remedies. The memory of it still clings about a wayside plant, Erysimum cheiranthoides, better known as Treacle-Mustard, which has gained its English name from the fact that its seeds were used in this awe-inspiring compound.

Anyone who is interested in ancient remedies can easily gain much information from Culpepper or Salmon. Either herbal can be procured at a low price (in a cheap edition) from any second-hand bookseller, and Salmon’s wild statements, especially about animals, and Culpepper’s biting wit, make them amusing reading. It is more instructive to examine the principles that animated the practice, and from one, the Doctrine of Signatures took form—a doctrine widely believed in, and of great influence. Coles[94] expounds it with great clearness: “Though Sin and Sattan have plunged mankinde into an Ocean of Infirmities... yet the mercy of God, which is over all His workes, maketh ... herbes for the use of man, and hath not onely stamped upon them a distinct forme, but also given them particular Signatures, whereby a man may read, even in legible characters, the use of them.... Viper’s Bugloss hath its stalks all to be speckled like a snake or viper, and is a most singular remedy against poyson and the sting of scorpions.... Heart Trefoyle is so called, not onely because the leafe is triangular, like the heart of a man, but also because each leafe contains the perfection of the heart, and that in its proper colour, viz., in flesh colour. It defendeth the heart.... The leaves of Saint John’s Wort seem to be pricked or pinked very thick with little holes like the pores of a man’s skin. It is a soveraigne remedy for any cut in the skin.” This was a view very generally shared. William Browne says:

And again:

Drayton’s Hermit pursued a development of this theory. He merely accepted the conclusions of earlier authorities who had made discoveries about the properties of plants and had named them accordingly.

It was, naturally, more simple to administer all-heal, for a wound; hore-hound, for “mad dogge’s biting,” and so on, than to decipher the signature from the plant, himself, and so he and many others, prescribed the herbs, with more reference to their names, than unprejudiced attention to results.

The planets were another determining factor in the choice of remedies. Each plant was dedicated to a planet and each planet presided over a special part of the body, therefore, when any part was affected, a herb belonging to the planet that governed that special part must, as a rule, be used. Thus, Mercury presided over the brain, so for a headache or “Folly and Simplicity (the Epidemicall diseases of the Time)” one of Mercury’s herbs must be chosen. Mercurial herbs were, as a rule, refreshing, aromatic and of “very subtle parts.” The planets seem usually to have caused, as well as cured the diseases in their special province, and therefore their own herbs, brought about the cure “by sympathy.” But sometimes, a planet would cause a disorder in the province ruled by another planet, to whom the first was in opposition, and in this case the cure must be made “by antipathy.” Thus the lungs are under Jupiter, to whom Mercury is opposed, therefore in any case of the lungs being affected, the physician must first discover whether Jupiter or Mercury were the agent and if the latter, the remedy must be “antipathetical”; it must be from one of Mercury’s herbs. Sometimes where a planet had caused a disease in the part it governed, an “antipathetical” cure, by means of an adversary’s herbs, was advised; for instance Jupiter is opposed to Saturn, so Jupiter’s herbs might be given for toothache or pains in the bones caused by Saturn, for the bones are under Saturn’s dominion. An antipathetical remedy, however, Culpepper does not recommend for common use, for “sympathetical cures strengthen nature; antipathetical cures, in one degree or another, weaken it.” Besides this, the position of the planet had to be considered, the “House” that it was in, and the aspect in which it was to the moon and other planets.

“A benevolent Planet in the sixth, cures the disease without the help of a Physitian.

“A malevolent Planet there causeth a change in the disease, and usually from better to worse.

“A malevolent in the Ascendant threatens death, and makes the sick as cross-grained as Bajazet the Turkish Emperor when he was in the Iron Cage.”

This is from Culpepper’s “Astrological Judgment of Diseases”; in his “Herbal” he gives definite directions:

“Fortify the body with herbs of the nature of the Lord of the Ascendant, ’tis no matter whether he be a Fortune or Infortune in this case.

“Let your medicine be something antipathetical to the Lord of the Sixth.

“If the Lord of the Tenth be strong, make use of his medicines.

“If this cannot well be, make use of the medicines of the Light of Time.”

Turning to the herbs appropriated to the special planets, we find that those of Mars were usually strong, bright and vigorous, and cured ills caused by violence, including the sting of “a martial creature, imagine a wasp, a hornet, a scorpion.” Yellow flowers were largely dedicated to the Sun or Moon, radiant, bright-yellow ones to the Sun; these of paler, fainter hues to the Moon. Flowers dedicated to either were good for the eyes, for the eyes are ruled by “the Luminaries.” Jupiter’s herbs had generally, “Leaves smooth, even, slightly cut and pointed, the veins not prominent. Flowers graceful, pleasing bright, succulent.” The herbs of Venus were those with many flowers, of bright or delicate colours and pleasant odours. Saturn, who is almost always looked upon as being unfavourable, had only plants, whose leaves were “hairy, dry, hard, parched, coarse,”[95] and whose flowers were “gloomy, dull, greenish, faded or dirty white, pale red, invariably hirsute, prickly and disagreeable.”

One does not know how much modern physicians care about propitiating Jupiter, but certainly they make an effort in that direction every time that they do, as did the Ancients, and write Rx—thus making his sign—at the top of a prescription. The small attention paid by doctors to herbs is often supposed to be a modern development, but hear Culpepper in 1652! “Drones lie at home and eat up what the bees have taken pains for. Just so do the college of physicians lie at home and domineer and suck out the sweetness of other men’s labours and studies, themselves being as ignorant in the matter of herbs as a child of four years old, as I can make appear to any rational man by their last dispensatory.”

It was not unnatural that the Herbalists should maintain the superiority of vegetable over mineral drugs, and Gerarde expresses his opinions in the introduction to his “Herbal.” “I confesse blind Pluto is nowadays more sought after than quick-sighted Phoebus, and yet this dusty metall,... is rather snatched of man to his own destruction.... Contrariwise, in the expert knowledge of herbes what pleasure still renewed with varietie? What small expence? What security? And yet what an apt and ordinary meanes to conduct men to that most desired benefit of health?”

Many herbs have been expunged from modern Pharmacopoeias. Perhaps we have no use for them now that we, in England, no longer live in perpetual terror of the bitings of sea-hares, scorpions or tarantulas, as our forefathers seem to have done! In Harrison’s “Description of England,” the habit of preferring foreign, to native herbs, is rebuked. “But herein (the cherishing of foreign herbs) I find some cause of just complaint, for that we extoll their uses so farre that we fall into contempt of our owne, which are, in truth, more beneficiall and apt for us than such as grow elsewhere, sith (as I said before) everie region hath abundantly within his own limits whatsoever is needfull and most convenient for them that dwell therein.” Probably there are to-day some thinkers of this stamp, as well as others who will hold anything valuable as long as it has been fetched from “overseas.”

Russell gives instructions, in his “Boke of Nurture,” how to “make a Bath medicinable,” by adding herbs,—mallow, hollyhocks and fennel being among the number. And he directs that herbs “sweet and greene” should be hanged round the room “when the Master will have a bath”; a proceeding which was evidently something of a ceremony.

To-day, there is an unfortunate tendency among the poor, to desert herbs, not for “doctor’s medicine,” but for any quackery they may chance to see “on the paper” and some of these remedies are advertised to cure nearly as many and diverse diseases, as any of the compounds prescribed by the Ancients. Consequently, one usually hears of the uses of herbs in the past tense. There is a curious poem (published at Ipswich, 1796) called the “Poor Phytologist, or the Author Gathering Herbs,” by James Chambers, Itinerant Poet, which gives the names and virtues of the simples most prized at that date. He was a pedlar, who wandered about the country, always accompanied by several dogs, and he added to his “precarious mode of existence, the art of making nets and composing acrostics.” I have quoted some of his lines at the beginning of this chapter, but few of the herbs he mentions are in popular use now, at least in the west of England. Betony occurs in some old village recipes still employed, though its vaunted powers have been declared vain by science. Amongst those that I have known, or have heard of, through personal friends, as being still, or quite recently in use, are the following:—Dandelion, Centaury, Meadow-Sweet and Wild-Sage are used as “bitters.” By Wild-Sage, Wood-Sage is usually, if not always, meant. Dandelion is, of course, in the British Pharmacopoeia; and Wood-Sage, though not officinal, is asked for by some chemists. Bear’s foot (Hellebore) has five finger-like leaves, but one finger is bad and must be torn off. Angelica is a wonderful herb; Parkinson put it in the fore-front of all medicinal plants and it holds almost as high a place among village herbalists to-day. Among many other virtues, the dried leaves are said to have great power to reduce inflammation if steeped in hot water and applied to the affected part. Mallows, especially Marsh-Mallows, retain their old reputation for relieving the same ill and the well-known PÂtÉs de Guimauve are made from their roots. Elder, beloved by all herbalists, still keeps its place in the British Pharmacopoeia, and the cooling effects of Elder-Flower Water, none can deny. In the country, Elder leaves and buds are most highly valued and are used in drinks, poultices and ointments. Hyssop, or as some call it I-sop, is sometimes used. Primrose, Poor Man’s Friend, and Comfrey are together made into an ointment, but White Comfrey should be used when the ointment is for a woman, Red-flowered Comfrey when it is for a man. “Poor Man’s Friend” in this case is Hedge-Garlic, but the name is sometimes given to Swine’s Cress (Lapsana Communis). The juice of House-Leek, mixed with cream, relieves inflammation and particularly the irritation which follows vaccination in an arm “taking beautifully.” Probatum est. Penny-pies or Penny-wort (Cotyledon Umbilicus) is said to be equally efficacious, especially used with cream, and when simmered with the “sides of the pan,” have been known to heal, where linseed poultices failed to do good. When the leaf of Penny-wort is applied to a wound, one side draws, the other side heals. Wormwood is often in request by brewers. Marigold-tea is a widely administered remedy for the measles, and is one of the few remedies which everybody seems to know. Very often families appear to have their own special formula, and even where the chief herbs in different prescriptions to relieve the same ailment are identical, the lesser herbs vary. Saffron was also recommended for measles; both probably on the “Doctrine of Colour Analogy” referred to the rash. An old Herbalist told me that he considered Marigolds nearly as good as Saffron and “more home-grown, so to speak.” Dr Primrose, a physician in the reign of Charles II., who wrote a book on “Popular Errors in Physick,” inveighs against the custom then in vogue of covering “the sick [with measles or small-pox] with red cloaths, for they are thought by the affinitie of the colour to draw the blood out to them, or at least some suppose that it is done by force of imagination. And not onely the people, but also very many physicians use them.” Marigold-tea is at anyrate a better survival as “treatment” than this system! Meadow-Saffron is still officinal, and is well known in the form it is usually dispensed, Tincture of Colchicum. Broom has a place in the pharmacopoeia, and is also a popular remedy. Furze is not officinal, but a preparation made from it, Ulexine, is mentioned in a well-known medical dictionary. An infusion of Furze-blossom used to be given to children to drink in scarlet fever. Camomile is officinal, and the great authority, Dr Schimmelbusch recently recommended it as a mouth-wash, for disinfecting the muscous membrane after cases of operation in the mouth. In a fomentation Camomile heads are a recognised anodyne; and Wild Camomile and Red Pimpernel are given locally for asthma, it is said, with great success. Boy’s love, (Southernwood), Plantain leaves, Black Currant leaves, Elder buds, Angelica and Parsley, chopped, pounded, and simmered with clarified butter, make an ointment for burns or raw surfaces. A maker of this particular ointment near Exeter, died a year or two ago, but up to her death it was much in request. Butter is always better for making ointments than lard, because cows feed on herbs, and all herbs are good for something. Sage poultices and sage gargle are very good for sore throats, better than some of the gargles that “the gentlemen” prescribe (so a Herbalist told me), and red sage is better than green. Rosemary has long been celebrated for making the hair grow. Water-cress is very good for the blood, and the expressed juice has been known to prove a wonderful cure for rheumatism. A lady told me of a case she knew in Berkshire, where a man was absolutely crippled till he tried this remedy, and afterwards quite recovered his power to move and a very good degree of strength. Water-cress was one of the plants from which Count Mattei extracted his vegetable electricity. Parsley, freshly gathered and laid on the forehead is good for a headache, and if put in a fold of muslin and laid across inflamed eyes, it is said to be beneficial. Endive tea is cooling and is given to “fever” patients, and the dry leaves of lovage infused in white wine were good for ague. An infusion of Raspberry leaves, Agrimony, and Barberry-bark was good for consumptive patients, and Cowslip and Cucumber were made into a wash to make the complexion “splendent,” to use an old expression. Coltsfoot is still given for coughs; Sweet Marjoram was administered for dropsy, Alderberries for boils; Arb-Rabbit (Herb-Robert) made into poultices for “inflammation;” Brook-lime, given for St Anthony’s Fire, and Brown Nut, made into a decoction, was taken hot just before going to bed, for a cold. Groundsel, Docks, Hay-Maids (Ground-Ivy), Feather-Few, Chicken-Weed, Hedge-Garlic or Hedge-Mustard, I have also heard recommended at different times. The Blessed Thistle is a useless ingredient in a good herb-ointment for burns. Amongst the last named plants are several not strictly to be called “herbs,” but they and others I shall mention are “simples,” and as such they fitly find a place among medicinal herbs. Foxglove and Belladonna, of course, are among the most important drugs in the Pharmacopoeia, and both the fruits and leaves of Hemlock have also a place there. Foxglove, called in Devonshire, Cowflop, is recommended as an application to heal sores, and one woman told me that it should always be gathered on the north side of the hedge. It is interesting to note that the Italians have a proverb, “Aralda, tutte piaghe salda” (Foxglove heals all sores). Cliders (Goose-grass, Galium aparine) was much given for tumours and cancers, and is praised by other than merely village sages. Dr Fernie quotes the testimony of several doctors who used it with success, and adds, “some of our trading druggists now furnish curative preparations made from the fresh herb.”

PLANTATION OF POPPIES (P. Somniferum)