But however probable this may appear, I am inclined to suspect, that under βουνιὰς and napus our steckrüben are to be understood, as most of the old botanists have admitted; and that the roots of them were used for food, before the seeds were employed for making oil. The napus of the ancients had long thin roots, which were so small that they could be preserved without being cut into slices; on the other hand, the rapa had large conical roots, which could not be preserved till they were sliced. The napus, because the roots grew chiefly downwards, were sown thicker than the rapum. The napus was cultivated only for the use of man; but the rapum was raised in great abundance as fodder for cattle. Of the napus there were many known varieties, of different degrees of goodness, which, as is the case at present with steckrüben, were named from the place where they chiefly grew. When sown late in the season, they were injured by the earth-flea; to prevent which, the young plants were strewed over with soot. Both the napi and rapa were buried in the earth, where they were kept in a fresh state during the winter. The former, to prevent them from degenerating, required careful cultivation; and indeed there are few kitchen vegetables which so easily change their state, according to the nature of the soil, as the steckrüben.
But what opinion can be formed of the assertion, often repeated, that brassica napus, and rapum, or rapa, readily change into each other; consequently are only varieties or deviations of the same species[869]? I am not disposed to declare this assertion to be altogether false; though I will not vouch for the possibility of converting our Markish rapes into turnips or cabbage. I conjecture that in the oldest times, when these three plants were not so far separated from each other by intermediate species or degrees of degeneration, as they had a greater resemblance to each other, and were all nearer to the original species, such transitions were easier than they possibly could be at present.
The third species of cabbage in the Linnæan system, belonging to this place, is the Brassica rapa, or turnip, the roots of which, more or less conical, differ in figure, colour and taste[870]. That these roots are the same as those called by the Romans rapa, and by the Greeks γογγύλη or γογγυλὶς, appears to be subject to no doubt, though at present we may have a greater number of varieties.
[The turnip was well-known to the Romans, and all that can be gathered on this subject from the writings of the ancients renders it probable that it occupied nearly the same place in Roman culture as it does in British husbandry at the present day. Columella[871] recommended that the growth of turnips should be abundant, because those which were not required for human food could be given with much advantage to cattle; and both he and Pliny concur in their testimony, that this produce was esteemed next to corn in utility and value. The best grew in the country of the Sabines, and were worth at Rome a sestertius, or 2d. each[872].
It is stated that the Roman method of cultivation must have been superior to that of the moderns, since Pliny relates that some single roots weighed as much as forty pounds, a weight far surpassing any which has been obtained by the most skilful modern agriculturists. It is very probable that the garden culture of the turnip was introduced by the Romans into this country, and that, like some of the fruit trees which they had transplanted here, though neglected, it was never altogether lost. There is no doubt that this root was in cultivation in the sixteenth century. Whether revived by native industry, or introduced at that period by the Flemings, is a question differently answered by different writers. Towards the latter end of the sixteenth century it is mentioned by more than one writer. Cogan, in his Haven of Health, published in 1597, says, that “although many men love to eat turnips, yet do swine abhor them.” Gerarde, who published in the same year, and who had rather more rational views on the subject of plants, leads us to conclude that more than one variety was cultivated in the environs of London at that time. “The small turnips,” says he, “grown by a village near London, called Hackney, in a sandie ground, and brought to the crosse in Cheapside by the women of the village to be solde, are the best that I ever tasted.” Gerarde is silent concerning the field culture of turnips; neither is this mentioned by Parkinson, who wrote in 1629. We do not find any account of the root being grown in any part of the country until the close of the seventeenth century (loc. sup. citat.). Turnips sometimes attain a very large size in this country; Tull[873] speaks of some weighing as much as nineteen pounds, and of often meeting with others of sixteen pounds. One was dug up in Surrey, in July 1828, which weighed twenty-one pounds, and was one yard in circumference[874]. Our more immediate ancestors appear to have applied the turnip to more extensive uses as an esculent than is done at present. It is stated, that in 1629 and 1630, when there was a dearth in England, very good, white, lasting and wholesome bread was made of boiled turnips, deprived of their moisture by pressure, and then kneaded with an equal quantity of wheaten flour. The same was had recourse to in Essex in 1693[875].]
The question whether the Greeks and the Romans were acquainted with our carrots[876], seems to be attended with more difficulties than might be expected. Whoever wishes to answer it fully, and at the same time explain the information of the ancients, and examine the opinions of the botanists of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries (for the modern botanists give themselves very little trouble in regard to such researches), must enter into a disquisition of such length as might be agreeable perhaps to few readers. I shall however here state what I think I know, and however little it may be, it will perhaps afford some assistance to those who are desirous to illustrate the works of the ancient physicians and agriculturists.
Dioscorides, who, next to Theophrastus among the Greeks, possessed the greatest share of botanical knowledge, was certainly acquainted with our carrot, and gave it the name of staphylinos. For this plant, he says, like dill, bears umbellæ consisting of white flowers, which in the middle are of a purple red or almost saffron red colour. Our carrots, it is well known, have these characteristics, before the umbellæ, towards the time of their ripening, form themselves into a nidus. The plant meant by Dioscorides grew wild, but was reared in gardens, on account of its esculent root; and our carrots are certainly descended from plants which grew wild, though Miller, author of the Gardener’s Dictionary, could not succeed in rendering the small pungent roots eatable by culture.
We must believe Columella and Pliny, that the staphylinos of the Greeks was, in their time, called pastinaca; though they give no information from which it can be concluded that their pastinaca was our carrot. The former speaks of it as a plant useful to bees, which is the case also with our wild and cultivated carrots. Afterwards he tells us that it was cultivated like siser. Those therefore have erred who consider siser and pastinaca as the same plant, and believe it to be our liquorice.
That staphylinus, or patinaca, or our carrot, was by the Greeks called also daucus, is asserted by Pliny, as well as Galen; and in the Geoponica, daucon is named among the kitchen vegetables. But Dioscorides seems to make a difference between staphylinus and daucon, as he treats of them in different sections. He however says that daucon is like staphylinus, and has also a white umbella. Daucon perhaps may have signified a peculiar variety of carrot.
In the last place, that the pastinacæ, or carrots, were named also carotæ, is mentioned by Apicius. This word is derived perhaps from κάρτον, which in Athenæus denotes the large roots of the staphylinus, and also from κέρας, which occurs in Hesychius and Apuleius as a synonym of pastinaca, staphylinus, and daucion; but it is possible that all these words may have been corrupted by transcribers. The Germans and French however have thence formed the appellation carrottes. But κάρος, a plant which Galen[877] names along with the roots of the staphylinus and daucus, signified, undoubtedly, our caraway (Carum Carvi). Dioscorides says that the spicy aromatic seeds of the κάρος were used, and that the roots also were boiled and eaten like carrots. Pliny calls the plant careum. The Greeks and the Romans therefore were acquainted with our carrots; but in my opinion they were far less used in cookery and as fodder for cattle than they are at present, otherwise they must have more frequently occurred in the works of the ancients.