Du Bartas—Sylvester’s Translation, 1641.
And Master-wort, whose name Dominion wears,
With her, who an Angelick Title bears.
Of Plants, book ii.—Cowley.
As these lines declare, Angelica was believed to have sprung from a heavenly origin, and greatly were its powers revered. Parkinson says, “All Christian nations likewise in their appellations hereof follow the Latine name as near as their Dialect will permit, onely in Sussex they call the wilde Kinde Kex, and the weavers wind their yarne on the dead stalkes.” The Laplanders crowned their poets with it, believing that the odour inspired them, and they also thought that the use of it “strengthens life.” The roots hung round the neck “are available against witchcraft and inchantments,” so Gerarde says, and thereby makes a concession to popular superstition, which he very rarely does. A piece of the root held in the mouth drives away infection of pestilence, and is good against all poisons, mad dogs or venomous beasts! Parkinson puts it first and foremost in a list of specially excellent medicinal herbs that he makes “for the profit and use of Country Gentlewomen and others,” and writes: “The whole plante, both leafe, roote, and seede is of an excellent comfortable sent, savour and taste.” No wonder with such powers that it gained its name. Angelica comes into a remedy for a wound from an arquebusade or arquebuse, called Eau d’Arquebusade, which was first mentioned by Phillippe de Comines in his account of the battle of Morat, 1476. “The French still prepare it very carefully from a great number of aromatic herbs. In England, where it is the Aqua Vulneria of the Pharmacopœias, the formula is: Dried mint, angelica tops and wormwood, angelica seeds, oil of juniper and spirit of rosemary distilled with rectified spirit and water (Timbs).” It must be borne in mind that Timbs wrote some time ago, and that the knowledge of modern French scientists, like that of our own, has increased since then.
Although it is of no value in medicine (it is next to none when cultivated) our garden angelica also grows wild, and can be safely eaten. Gerarde is amusing on this point. He says it grows in an “Island in the North called Island (Iceland?). It is eaten of the inhabitants, the barke being pilled off, as we understand by some that have travelled into Island, who were sometimes compelled to eate hereof for want of other food; and they report that it hath a good and pleasant taste to them that are hungry.” The last words are significant! Formerly, the leaf-stalks were blanched, and eaten as celery is, but now they are chiefly used, candied, for dessert. The art of candying seems to have been brought closer to perfection abroad than at home in Turner’s time, for he says: “The rootes are now condited in Danske, for a friend of mine in London, called Maister Aleyne, a merchant man, who hath ventured over to Danske, sent me a little vessel of these, well condited with honey, very excellent good. Wherefore they that would have anye Angelica maye speake to the Marchauntes of Danske, who can provide them enough.” The fruit is used to flavour Chartreuse and other “cordials.”
Blites (Blitum).
Dr Prior confirms Evelyn, in calling Bonus Henricus Blites, but the older herbalists seem to have given this name to another plant of the same tribe, the Chenopodiaceæ, because they treat of Blites and Bonus Henricus in separate chapters. Parkinson is very uncomplimentary to them. “Blitum are of the species Amaranthum, Flower Gentle. They are used as arrach, eyther boyled of itself or stewed, which they call Loblolly.... It is altogether insipid and without taste. The unsavouriness whereof hath in many countries grown into a proverb, or by-word, to call dull, slow or lazy persons by that name.” The context points to the nickname coming from “Blites,” but no such term of reproach now exists, though the contemptuous sobriquet “Loblolly-boy” is sometimes seen in old-fashioned nautical novels. Blites were said to be hurtful to the eyes, a belief that draws a scathing remark from Gerarde, “I have heard many old wives say to their servants, ‘Gather no Blites to put in my pottage, for they are not good for the eyesight’; whence they had those words I know not, it may be of some doctor that never went to school.” Culpepper mentions that wild blites “the fishes are delighted with, and it is a good and usual bait, for fishes will bite fast enough at them if you have but wit enough to catch when they bite.” Altogether this insipid vegetable gives scope for a good many sharp things to be said.
Blitum capitatum, usually known as strawberry-spinach, is sometimes grown in flower gardens.
Bloodwort (Lapathum Sanguineum).
The modern Latin name for this dock is Rumex Sanguineus, but Gesner had a more imposing title, Sanguis draconis herba (Dragon’s blood plant). These names are, of course, derived from the crimson colour of its veins, and are the finest thing about it. The little notice it does get is not unmixed praise. “Among the sorts of pot-herbes, Blood-worte hath always been accounted a principall one, although I doe not see any great reason therein.” This is Parkinson’s opinion, but the italics are mine.