The Romance of Plant Life / Interesting Descriptions of the Strange and Curious in the Plant World - G. F. Scott Elliot

The general appearance of the Opium Poppy is quite familiar; its upright stems, large, clasping, bluish-green leaves and conspicuous flowers may be seen in many gardens. It is rather interesting, and in many ways; when young, the buds droop or hang down, and are entirely enclosed in two large green, hairy sepals. These last are soon thrown off, and then the flowers open out and display the petals with their rich black spots, and the crowded mass of stamens which surround the central greenish head. In bud these petals are "cramb'd up within the empalement by hundreds of little wrinkles or puckers as if three or four fine cambrick handkerchifs [sic] were thrust into one's pocket," as an old writer describes it (Grew).

Bees, and especially bumbles, are extremely fond of it, and even seem to be, in a way, opium-eaters, for they get quite exalted, almost intoxicated, and above their ordinary laborious selves. They scurry round and round the flower under the stamens or hover excitedly above it.

It is at this stage that the opium-gatherer begins his work; he goes round the beds and collects the petals of the poppy to use later on (see p. [304]). The poppy-heads are then half grown and bluish-green, but they soon begin to turn yellow and ripen. When ripe they are most interesting to examine. There is a large platform covered by a radiating star-like ornament, which is the stigma. Underneath this is a circle of little holes just below the crown, but above the head. Each small hole has a flap. Now if you gather a ripe poppy-head on a fine dry day all these holes are open, and if you hold it upright and swing it vigorously from side to side the tiny seeds come flying out of the holes and will be thrown to a considerable distance. The stalk is supposed to swing in a high wind, and the seeds are really slung or thrown out of the holes. But if, when you come home, you put your poppy-head in water, or look at the plants in the garden on a very wet day, you will find that every hole closes or is shut up, because the small door mentioned above expands so as to close the opening.

The seeds are only sent out on a fine dry day; but they travel well. It was observed in America that certain poppies had been introduced as weeds at a certain place; in fifteen years they were found twenty-five miles farther on, so that they were colonizing the country at the rate of three-fifths of a mile per annum.[133] The seeds themselves are very light and are of some value; they may be eaten like caraway-seed, as comfits, or crushed to supply an oil for lamps, or used as medicine. It is said that the value of the seed raised in France was in one year £170,000. The heads themselves are also valuable (they are worth 35s. per thousand), and even the dried stalks and leaves, for they may be used as fodder.

But the real reason why the plant is cultivated in so many parts of the earth is the great value of the opium obtained from it. This is gathered in the following curious way. As soon as the dew has dried off the plant, the cultivator goes round the beds and scratches every poppy-head with a tool made up of three knives tied together. That is the time recommended by Theophrastus, and it is apparently still the usual time to choose. In the late afternoon, from four to seven, he comes round again and scrapes off the congealed milk, which is then worked up into cakes and taken to the factory.

It is prepared by being kneaded, dried, and rubbed until it is of a pale golden colour.[134] Finally, it is enclosed in a mass of poppy petals, sometimes mixed with the fruits of a kind of dock, and is then ready for export.

It is cultivated in a great many parts of the world—Turkey, Syria, Persia, France, China, the United States, Germany, Queensland, but especially in British India, where the immense plains at Malwa used to furnish opium worth about sixty million rupees annually (after deducting all expenses). This was mostly exported to China, and amounted to a tax of about threepence per head on every Chinaman; it was also sufficient to defray about one-sixteenth part of the expenses of our Indian Empire. The story of how Great Britain forced China to take our opium is not a creditable one nor agreeable to read. The plant was known in ancient Egypt, Persia, and Rome, and was used in China for at least two hundred years before our times.