“In like sort the rest of the Indians for their pastime do take the smoke of the Tabaco, to make themselves drunke withall, and to see the visions, and things that represent unto them, that wherein they do delight: and other times they take it to know their businesse and successe, because conformable to that whiche they haue seene, being drunke therewith, euen so they iudge of their businesse. And as the devil is a deceuer and hath the knowledge of the vertue of hearbs, so he did shew the vertue of this Hearb, that by the meanes thereof, they might see their imaginations and visions, that he hath represented unto them and by that meanes deceiue them.”
The Red Indians also used this herb when they were obliged to travel for several days “in a dispeopled countrie where they shal finde neither water nor meate.” They rolled the leaves into small balls, which they put “betweene the lower lippe and the teeth and goe chewing it all the time that they trauell and that whiche they chew they swallow downe and in this sort they journey three or foure dayes without hauing neede of meate or drink, for they feele no hunger nor weaknesse nor their trauel doth trouble them.” (This custom Monardes compares to that of the bear, which during the winter “remaineth in his Caue and liueth without meate or drink, with onely chewing his pawes”!)
On its first introduction into Europe tobacco seems to have been regarded as a new all-heal, and in the city of Seville, we read, “they know not what other to doe, hauing cut or hurt themselves but to run to the Tabaco as to a most readie remedie. It doth meruellous workes, without any need of other Surgery, but this only hearbe.” One chapter is devoted entirely to an account of various cures effected by tobacco, and it is interesting to read the authoritative account of the origin of the botanical name “Nicotiana.” Monardes tells us that it was so called after Nicot, “my very friend ye first author inventer and bringer of this hearbe into France.” It appears that “Maister John Nicot, being Embassador for his Maiestie in Portugall, in the yeere of our Lorde 1559, went one day to see the Prysons of the King of Portugall, and a Gentleman, being the Keeper of the said Prysons, presented him with this hearb as a strange plant brought from Florida.” The same Maister Nicot, “hauing caused the said hearb to be set in his Garden, where it grewe and multiplyed maruellously,” experimented with it, and amongst other things cured a young man who had a sore on his nose. Quite a number of cures were effected, the most interesting being that of one of Nicot’s own cooks, who “hauing almost cutte off his thombe with a great Chopping Knife ran unto the said Nicotiane and healed it”!
The prescription for the ointment of tobacco is as follows:—“Take a pounde of the freshe leaues of the sayde Hearbe, stampe them, and mingle them with newe Waxe, Rosine, common oyle of each three ounces, let them boyle altogether, untill the Juice of Nicotiane be consumed, then add therto three ounces of Venise Turpentine, straine the same through a Linen cloth, and keepe it in Pottes to your use.” The account of tobacco ends thus:—“Loe here you haue the true Historie of Nicotiane of the which the sayde Lorde Nicot, one of the Kinge’s Counsellors, first founder out of this hearbe, hath made me privie, as well by woorde as by writing, to make thee (friendly Reader) partaker thereof, to whome I require thee to yeeld as harty thankes as I acknowledge myself bound unto him for this benefite received.”
We find that the Indians first taught the Spaniards the use of sassafras, and “the Spaniards did begin to cure themselves with the water of this tree and it did in them greate effectes, that it is almost incredible: for with the naughtie meates and drinkyng of the rawe waters, and slepyng in the dewes, the moste parte of them came to fall into continuall Agues.... Thei tooke up the roote of this Tree and tooke a peece thereof suche as it seemed to theim beste, thei cutte it small into verie thinne and little peeces and cast them into water at discretion, little more or lesse, and thei sodde it the tyme that seemed nedefull for to remaine of a good colour, and so thei dranke it in the mornyng fastyng and in the daie tyme and at dinner and supper, without kepyng any more waight or measure, then I have saied, nor more keepyng, nor order then this, and of this thei were healed of so many griefes and euill diseases. That to heare of them what thei suffred and how thei were healed it doeth bryng admiration and thei whiche were whole dranke it in place of wine, for it doeth preserue them in healthe: As it did appeare verie well by theim, that hath come frō thence this yere, for thei came all whole and strong, and with good coulours, the whiche doeth not happen to them that dooeth come from those partes and from other conquestes, for thei come sicke and swolne, without collour, and in shorte space the moste of theim dieth: and these souldiours doeth trust so muche in this woodde that I beyng one daie amongest many of them, informing myself of the thynges of this Tree, the moste parte of them tooke out of their pokettes a good peece of this woodd, and said: ‘Maister, doe you see here the woodde, that euery one of us doth bryng for to heale us with all, if we do fall sicke, as we haue been there,’ and they began to praise so muche, to confirme the meruelous workes of it, with so many examples of them that were there, that surely I gave greate credite unto it and thei caused me to beleeve all that thereof I had heard, and gave me courage to experimente it as I have doen.” There is another vivid glimpse of the use of sassafras as a pomander when the pestilence was rife in Seville. “Many did use to carrie a peece of the Roote of the wood with them to smell to it continually, as to a Pomander. For with his smell so acceptable it did rectifie the infected ayre: I caried with mee a peece a greate tyme, and to my seemyng I founde greate profite in it. For with it and with the chewing of the rinde of lemmon in the mornyng and in the daye tyme for to preserve health it hath a greate strength and property. It seemeth to mee that I was delivered by the healpe of God from the fyre in the whiche we that were Phisitions went in, blessed be our Lorde God that delivered us from so great euill and gave us this moste excellente Tree called Sassafras, which hath so greate vertues, and doth suche maruellous effectes as we have spoken of and more that the tyme will shewe us, which is the discouerer of all thinges.”
It is a far cry from Monardes’s book to that by “John Josselyn Gentleman,” written nearly a hundred years later. Instead of the atmosphere of the El Dorado of the Spanish Main, of the galleons, of the tropical sun and plants of the West Indies, we find ourselves in the good company of the first settlers in New England, the Spanish Empire being only a memory of the past. Just fifty years after the landing of the Pilgrim Fathers on American soil, New England’s Rarities discovered was printed at the Green Dragon in St. Paul’s Churchyard, London, and the book is of peculiar interest, for it contains the first published lists of English plants that would thrive in America. There is a certain pathos in the efforts of the new settlers to produce in the New Country (which then took two months to reach) something that would remind them of the familiar English gardens of their old homes, and no one with a gardener’s heart can read it without sympathy. The book was written by one John Josselyn, who undertook the then perilous voyage in order to stay with his only brother, who lived a hundred leagues from Boston. There he remained about eight years, making it his business to collect all the information he could about plants that interested him. Even as late as 1663 the country was very imperfectly explored, for he gravely informs the reader that he cannot say whether New England is an island or not. He is not very sure whether even America is an island, but is confident that the Indians are closely allied to the Tartars.
But to turn to the subject-matter of the book. First we have a careful list of plants which the author found and which were common in England also, and—what is quite delightful—notes on the uses made of these plants by the Red Indians. For instance, they used white hellebore to cure their wounds, and John Josselyn tells us exactly how. They first rubbed racoon’s grease or wild cat’s grease on the wounds and then strewed the dried and powdered root on to it. They also applied the powdered root for toothache. Under the yellow-flowered water-lily we find a note to the effect that the Indians used the roots for food, and Josselyn seems to have tried them himself, for he says that they taste of sheep’s liver. “The Moose Deer,” he says, “feed much on them and the Indians choose this time when their heads are under water to kill them.” From acorns the Indians made the oil with which they rubbed themselves. This was prepared by burning rotten maple wood to ashes and then boiling acorns with these ashes till the oil floated on the top. Of American walnuts and violets he had apparently a poor opinion, for he describes the walnuts as being not much bigger than a nutmeg and “but thinly replenished with kernels,” and the violets as inferior to the English “Blew Violet.” The most interesting of the recipes is that for the beer which he used to brew for Indians who came to him when they had bad colds. New Englanders who still possess treasured old housewives’ books will probably find they have recipes for the same kind of beer; for it is typical of that commonly made in England in the seventeenth century and is strangely flavoured with elecampane, liquorice, sassafras, aniseed, and fennel seed. Then follows a list of plants peculiar to New England, with a long description of “Indian wheat,” of which “the Flower [flour] makes excellent Puddens.” Another plant described at length is the hollow-leaved lavender, but it is difficult to identify it from the illustration. The most interesting part of this list is that consisting of plants to which no English names had yet been given.
It is hard to believe that before the Pilgrim Fathers landed some of the commonest weeds were unknown in their new country. Yet we have John Josselyn’s list of these, and it includes couch-grass, shepherd’s purse, dandelion, groundsel, sow-thistle, stinging-nettle, mallows, plantain, wormwood, chickweed, mullein, knot-grass and comfrey. The plantain, one always learnt as a child, follows the English colonist wherever he goes, and there is curious confirmation in Josselyn’s note that the Indians called this familiar weed “‘Englishman’s Foot,’ as though it were produced by their treading.” But the most fascinating list of all is that of the English garden-plants which those early settlers tried to grow, and it is impossible to read it without realising the loving care which must have been lavished on the southernwood, rosemary, lavender, and other plants imported from English gardens, which survived the long journey only to succumb to the rigours of the New England winter. There is something so naïve and appealing about this list, the first gardening link, as it were, between England and America, that I give it in full as it stands in the original:
“Cabbidge growes there exceeding well
Lettice
Parsley, Marygold, French Mallowes, Chervil, Burnet,
Winter Savory, Summer Savory, Time, Sage, Carrots.
Parsnips of a prodigous size,
Red Beetes,
Radishes
Purslain
Pease of all sorts and the best in the world. I never heard of nor did see in Eight Years time one worm Eaten Pea.
Spearmint, Rew will hardly grow
Featherfew prospereth exceedingly.
Southernwood is no plant for this Country, Nor Rosemary, Nor
Bayes,
White Satten groweth pretty well, so doth
Lavender Cotton. But
Lavender is not for the Climate.
Penny Royal,
Smalledge
Ground Ivy or Ale Hoof.
Gillyflowers will continue Two Years.
Fennel must be taken up and kept in a Warm Cellar all the Winter.
Housleek prospereth notably,
Hollyhocks.
Enula Campana, in two Years time the Roots rot,
Comferie with white Flowers,
Coriander and
Dill and
Annis thrive exceedingly, but Annis Seed as also the Seed of Fennel seldom come to maturity; the Seed of Annis is commonly eaten of a fly.
Clary never lasts but one Summer, the
Roots rot with the Frost,
Sparagus thrives exceedingly so does
Garden Sorrel and
Sweet Bryer or Eglantine
Bloodwort but sorrily but
Patience and
English Roses very pleasantly.
Celandine by the West Country Men called Kenning Wort grows but slowly.
Muschata as well as in England.
Pepperwort flourisheth notably and so doth Tansie
Musk Mellons are better than our English and Cucumbers.
Pompions there be of several kinds; they are dryer than our English pompions and better tasted; You may eat them Green.”
The book ends in a delightfully irrelevant fashion with a poem on an Indian squaw, introduced as follows:—“Now, gentle Reader, having trespassed upon your patience a long while in the perusing of these rude Observations, I shall, to make you amends, present you by way of Divertisement, or Recreation, with a Copy of Verses on the Indian Squa or Female Indian trick’d up in all her bravery.”