WOODRUFF.
Concerning the Sweet Woodruff (Asperula odorata), it is a favourite little plant growing commonly in our woods and gardens, with a pleasant smell which, like the good deeds of the worthiest persons, delights by its fragrance most after death. This herb is of the Rubiaceous order, and gets its botanical name from the Latin asper, rough, in allusion to the rough leaves possessed by its species.
It may be readily recognised by its small white flowers set on a slender stalk, with narrow leaves growing round it in successive whorls, just as in the Cleaver (Goosegrass), which belongs to the same order.
The name Woodruffe has been whimsically spelt Woodderowffe, thus:—
Double U, double O, double D, E
R, O, double U, double F, E.
Its terminal syllable, "ruff," is derived from rofe, a wheel,—with the diminutive rouelle, a little wheel or rowel, like that of an ancient spur,—which the verticillate leaves of this herb closely resemble. They serve to remind us also of good Queen Bess, and of the high, starched, old-fashioned ruff which she is shown to wear [609] in her portraits. Therefore, the plant is known as Woodrowel.
When freshly gathered, it has but little odour, but when dried it exhales a delightful and lasting aroma, like the scent of meadow grass, or of peach blossoms.
A fragrant and exhilarating tea may be made from the leaves and blossoms of the sweet Woodruffe, and this is found to be of service in correcting sluggishness of the liver. "When it is desired," says Mr. Johns, "to preserve the leaves merely for their scent, the stem should be cut through just below and above a joint, and the leaves pressed in such a way as not to destroy their star-like arrangement."
Gerard tells us: "The flowers are of a very sweet smell, as is the rest of the herb, which, being made up into garlands or bundles, and hanged up in houses, in the heat of summer, doth very well attemper the air, cool and make fresh the place, to the delight and comfort of such as are therein."
The agreeable odour of this sweet Woodruffe is due to a chemical principle named "coumarin," which powerfully affects the brain; and the plant further contains citric, malic, and rubichloric acids, together with some tannic acid.
Another species of the same genus is the Squinancy Woodruff (Asperula cynanchica), so called from the Greek cynanche, which means quinsy, because an excellent gargle may be made from this herb for the troublesome throat affection here specified, and for any severe sore throat. Quinsy is called cynanche, from the Greek words, kuon, a dog, and ancho, to strangle, because the distressed patient is compelled by the swollen state of his highly inflamed throat, to gasp with his mouth open like a choking dog.
[610] This plant is found growing in dry pastures, especially on a chalky or limestone soil, but it is not common; it has very narrow leaves, and tufts of lilac flowers.
Reverting to the Sweet Woodruff, the dried herb may be kept amongst linen, like lavender, to preserve it from insects.
She—"Fresh Woodruff soaks
To brew cool drink, and keep away the moth."
—A. Austin, Poet Laureate.
It was formerly employed for strewing churches, littering chambers, and stuffing beds. Withering declares that its strongly aromatic flowers make an infusion which far exceeds even the choice teas of China. The powdered leaves are mixed with fancy snuffs, because of their enduring fragrance.
WOODSORRELL (See also "Docks.")
This elegant little herb, called also French Sorrel, Rabbits' food, Shamrock, and Wood Sour (Oxalis acetosella), is abundant throughout our woods, and in other moist, shady places. It belongs to the natural order of Geraniums, and bears the provincial names of Sour trefoil, Cuckoo's bread, or Gowk's-meat, and Stubwort (from growing about the stubs of hewn trees). Its botanical title is got from the Greek word oxus, sharp, or acid, because of its penetrating sour taste. This is due to the acid oxalate of potash which it contains abundantly, in common with the Dock Sorrel, and the Garden Rhubarb.
By reason of this chemical salt being present in combination with less leafy matter than in the other plants which are akin to it, the Wood Sorrel makes a lighter and more palatable salad.
In olden days the Monks named this pretty little [611] woodland plant Alleluia, because it blossoms between Easter and Whitsuntide, when the Psalms—from the 113th to the 117th, inclusive—which end with the aspiration, "Hallelujah!" were sung.
St. Patrick is said to have shown on the ternate leaf of the Wood
Sorrel to his rude audience the possibility of a Trinity in Unity.
The herb has been long popular as a Simple for making a fever drink, which is thought to be somewhat sedative to the heart, and for helping to cure scurvy. Also, it has proved useful against intermittent fever.
Towards assisting to digest, by their free acid, the immature fibre of young flesh meats, the Wood Sorrel leaves are commonly eaten as a dressing with veal, and lamb. But too habitual use of such a salad or sauce has led to the formation of gouty crystals (oxalate of lime) in the urine, with considerable irritation of the kidneys. Externally, the bruised leaves are of excellent service for cleansing and stimulating foul sores and ulcers, being first macerated in a Cabbage leaf with warmth.
This familiar harbinger of Spring, with its three delicate leaflets on a long stalk, and its tiny white flowers, having purple veins like those of the Wood Anemone, bears the fanciful name of Fairy-bells in Welsh districts.
Fra Angelico placed the claret-stained flowers in the foreground of his pictures representing the Crucifixion. After the doctrine of signatures, because of its shape like a heart, the leaf of the Wood Sorrel was formerly esteemed as a cordial medicine. It was called in Latin Panis Cuculi, meaning the "Cuckoo's bread and cheese." The leaves, when bruised, make with sugar a capital conserve which is refreshing to a fevered stomach, or, if boiled in milk, they form an agreeable sub-acid whey. [612] Twenty pounds of the fresh plant will yield four ounces of the oxalate of potash, commonly known as salt of lemons or salt of sorrel, which is often used for taking ink stains out of linen. Francus, an old classical author, concluded by experiment that the herb is of value (cordis vires reparare) to recruit the energies of the heart, and (anginum abigere) to dispel the quinsy. Its infusion makes an excellent anti-putrescent gargle. There is also a yellow variety of the Wood Sorrel.