Part 27 (2/2)
It having been the common notion that plants were affected by the neighbourhood of other plants to such an extent that they imbibed each other's virtues and faults. Accordingly sweet flowers were planted near fruit-trees, with the idea of improving the flavour of the fruit; and, on the other hand, evil-smelling trees, like the elder, were carefully cleaned away from fruit-trees, lest they should become tainted. [4]
Further superst.i.tions have been incidentally alluded to throughout the present volume, necessarily a.s.sociated as they are with most sections of plant folk-lore. It should also be noticed that in the various folk-tales which have been collected together in recent years, many curious plant superst.i.tions are introduced, although, to suit the surroundings of the story, they have only too frequently been modified, or the reverse. At the same time, embellishments of the kind are interesting, as showing how familiar these traditionary beliefs were in olden times to the story-teller, and how ready he was to avail himself of them.
Footnotes:
1. See Baring-Gerald's ”Curious Myths of the Middle Ages.”
2. Ingram's ”Florica Symbolica,” p. 326.
3. Stewart's ”Popular Superst.i.tions of the Highlanders.”
4. See Ellacombe's ”Plant-lore of Shakespeare,” p. 319.
CHAPTER XXI.
PLANTS IN FOLK-MEDICINE.
From the earliest times plants have been most extensively used in the cure of disease, although in days of old it was not so much their inherent medicinal properties which brought them into repute as their supposed magical virtues. Oftentimes, in truth, the only merit of a plant lay in the charm formula attached to it, the due utterance of which ensured relief to the patient. Originally there can be no doubt that such verbal forms were prayers, ”since dwindled into mystic sentences.” [1] Again, before a plant could work its healing powers, due regard had to be paid to the planet under whose influence it was supposed to be; [2] for Aubrey mentions an old belief that if a plant ”be not gathered according to the rules of astrology, it hath little or no virtue in it.” Hence, in accordance with this notion, we find numerous directions for the cutting and preparing of certain plants for medicinal purposes, a curious list of which occurs in Culpepper's ”British Herbal and Family Physician.” This old herbalist, who was a strong believer in astrology, tells us that such as are of this way of thinking, and none else, are fit to be physicians. But he was not the only one who had strict views on this matter, as the literature of his day proves--astrology, too, having held a prominent place in most of the gardening books of the same period. Michael Drayton, who has chronicled so many of the credulities of his time, referring to the longevity of antediluvian men, writes:--
”Besides, in medicine, simples had the power That none need then the planetary hour To help their workinge, they so juiceful were.”
The adder's-tongue, if plucked during the wane of the moon, was a cure for tumours, and there is a Swabian belief that one, ”who on Friday of the full moon pulls up the amaranth by the root, and folding it in a white cloth, wears it against his naked breast, will be made bullet-proof.” [3] Consumptive patients, in olden times, were three times pa.s.sed, ”Through a circular wreath of woodbine, cut during the increase of the March moon, and let down over the body from head to foot.” [4] In France, too, at the present day, the vervain is gathered under the different changes of the moon, with secret incantations, after which it is said to possess remarkable curative properties.
In Cornwall, the club-moss, if properly gathered, is considered ”good against all diseases of the eye.” The mode of procedure is this:--”On the third day of the moon, when the thin crescent is seen for the first time, show it the knife with which the moss is to be cut, and repeat this formula:--
'As Christ healed the issue of blood, Do thou cut what thou cuttest for good.'
At sundown, the operator, after carefully was.h.i.+ng his hands, is to cut the club-moss kneeling. It is then to be wrapped in a white cloth, and subsequently boiled in water taken from the spring nearest to its place of growth. This may be used as a fomentation, or the club-moss may be made into an ointment with the b.u.t.ter from the milk of a new cow.” [5]
Some plants have, from time immemorial, been much in request from the season or period of their blooming, beyond which fact it is difficult to account for the virtues ascribed to them. Thus, among the Romans, the first anemone of the year, when gathered with this form of incantation, ”I gather thee for a remedy against disease,” was regarded as a preservative from fever; a survival of which belief still prevails in our own country:--
”The first spring-blown anemone she in his doublet wove, To keep him safe from pestilence wherever he should rove.”
On the other hand, in some countries there is a very strong prejudice against the wild anemone, the air being said ”to be so tainted by them, that they who inhale it often incur severe sickness.” [6] Similarly we may compare the notion that flowers blooming out of season have a fatal significance, as we have noted elsewhere.
The sacred a.s.sociations attached to many plants have invested them, at all times, with a scientific repute in the healing art, instances of which may be traced up to a very early period. Thus, the peony, which, from its mythical divine origin, was an important flower in the primitive pharmacopoeia, has even in modern times retained its reputation; and to this day Suss.e.x mothers put necklaces of beads turned from the peony root around their children's necks, to prevent convulsions and to a.s.sist them in their teething. When worn on the person, it was long considered, too, a most effectual remedy for insanity, and Culpepper speaks of its virtues in the cure of the falling sickness. [7] The thistle, sacred to Thor, is another plant of this kind, and indeed instances are very numerous. On the other hand, some plants, from their great virtues as ”all-heals,” it would seem, had such names as ”Angelica” and ”Archangel” bestowed on them. [8]
In later times many plants became connected with the name of Christ, and with the events of the crucifixion itself--facts which occasionally explain their mysterious virtues. Thus the vervain, known as the ”holy herb,” and which was one of the sacred plants of the Druids, has long been held in repute, the subjoined rhyme a.s.signing as the reason:--
”All hail, thou holy herb, vervin, Growing on the ground; On the Mount of Calvary There wast thou found; Thou helpest many a grief, And staunchest many a wound.
In the name of sweet Jesu, I lift thee from the ground.”
To quote one or two further instances, a popular recipe for preventing the p.r.i.c.k of a thorn from festering is to repeat this formula:--
”Christ was of a virgin born, And he was p.r.i.c.ked with a thorn, And it did neither bell nor swell, And I trust in Jesus this never will.”
In Cornwall, some years ago, the following charm was much used, forms of which may occasionally be heard at the present day:--
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