Europe – Flora, Short Stories

Photographs, words and illustrations Nick Sidle

Photograph – Hedge Mustard, Sisymbrium officinale, Merkinch, South Kessock, Inverness, Highland Scotland

Celandine, Lesser

Photograph – Lesser Celandine, Ficaria verna, Fairy Glen, Black Isle, Ross and Cromarty, Highland Scotland

Spare a thought for the Lesser Celandine, not because it is a very early spring flowering plant leaving it with the risk of a false start to the season and a return to winter conditions with even snow and ice after it has committed to the new year’s cycle of blossoming and growing, no, spare a thought for the Lesser Celandine because it is one of the extreme examples of expectations from ‘The Doctrine of Signatures’ More prevalent hundreds of years ago and dating from over two thousand years ago, there are still those who support it and what the doctrine proposes is that a resemblance between a plant and a part of human anatomy or a feature of an illness indicates that the plant will be effective in treating it. This was extended later in the middle ages to have a theological basis that God would have wanted to provide a sign for what plants were useful for.

‘The Doctrine of Signatures’ is not accepted by modern day science and medicine and there are real difficulties since many, some would say most, interpretations have been shown to be completely false and some genuinely dangerous. The thing is though that ultimately ‘The Doctrine of Signatures’ will, at least to an extent, be true although probably not very safely or usefully so. If you take plants or plant extracts that are genuinely medically beneficial, and there are many, know the conditions they treat and then look at all aspects of the plant and its lifecycle, trying to find anything that can possibly be associated visually with those conditions you will eventually find some examples. Reject all instances where a signature association was made but the plant gave no benefit as imperfect interpretation and you now inevitably have some positive examples and no failures, it’s just the usefulness and safety issues are still there. The high error rates mean you might be able to convince yourself, with hindsight, of an explanation linked to something you already know works, but still leave that you cannot reliably identify future useful approaches which will have a significant rate of effectiveness. An example of the weaknesses of the doctrine is the Foxglove used to treat heart related illness in folk medicine for centuries and identified by scientific medicine in the 1700’s as a source of one of the most useful drugs to treat heart conditions, digitalis or digoxin, that has saved many, many thousands of lives and is still in use today. Medieval advocates of the doctrine looked at the Foxglove and concluded that since the flowers to them looked like an open mouth it must have value in treating conditions and injuries to the mouth and throat. They even added that the flecked markings in the flowers were parallels to the appearance of inflammation in the throat. Foxgloves never became established to help sore throats and did not become the basis for effectively treating mouth and throat conditions. They completely overlooked that the Foxglove is said to have heart shaped fruit which, from their viewpoint, could just have been important. So, the Foxglove is an example where with hindsight there is some truth in ‘The Doctrine of Signatures’ but which, when it was used practically in advance, failed completely.

Photograph – Lesser Celandine, Ficaria verna, Merkinch, South Kessock, Inverness, Highland Scotland

So why should the Lesser Celandine possibly feel put upon and buried by a burden of expectations. It acquired quite a list of signature associations and jobs for it to do.

The yellow colour of the flowers meant it had to be a treatment for jaundice and liver disease, it isn’t. The tubers of the plant were said to resemble piles and so extracts of the leaves were used to treat haemorrhoids. Since the leaf extracts were applied in buttermilk it is possible that the buttermilk not the Celandine helped a bit. A resemblance between the roots and cow’s udders was talked of in Scotland and Lesser Celandine was hung in cowsheds because it was thought to directly stimulate milk production. Perhaps if the farmers believed it did, and so they were more confident and less worried, then their mood could affect the cows but there is no scientific basis for just hanging up copious bunches of Celandine to directly improve dairy outputs through any common appearance or primary mechanism. It’s best to always keep an open mind, there is always the chance of something like Celandine supresses flies which in large numbers can affect cows but science does have more to offer than the doctrine. At least, it first challenges itself to show there really is an effect and then if there is and there is to be an explanation, this may begin as a hypothesis but that has to be tested, questioned and rigorously shown to be true.

One last thing. Don’t mention that almost all botany textbooks and field guides describe the leaves of the Lesser Celandine as heart shaped, the poor plant probably feels it has enough to do already. And even more so, never draw attention to the mottled appearance of the leaves, there are too many dermatological conditions to think about, or that the flowers are in plant anatomy terms solitary even if, like crowds of people, there are many in the same place. Imagine being made responsible for curing the world of loneliness……

Cow-wheat, Small

Photograph – Small Cow-wheat, Melampyrum sylvaticum, Abernethy Forest, Cairngorms National Park, Highland Scotland

The Small Cow-wheat is a scarce wildflower, far more rare than the Common Cow-wheat and is of conservation concern with the principal pressures being complete loss of habitat or at least its degradation especially by grazing livestock. It is an example of a hemiparasite, a plant that is partially parasitic, normally self sufficient but if conditions become harsh, capable of taking nutrients and water from the roots of other plants including grasses.

Photograph – Small Cow-wheat, Melampyrum sylvaticum, Abernethy Forest, Cairngorms National Park, Highland Scotland

The Cow-wheats take their name from their black wheat like seeds and the reaction to finding them in a farmed crop depended very much on which crop it was. If they are mixed in with grain crops, then their presence in bread makes it turn black when baked. Great efforts have been made to manually remove Cow-wheats and their seeds from cereal crops to minimise this issue, their presence in a crop would mean a lower price for the farmer. There are references to beliefs in the Middle Ages that the small seeds could be converted into wheat but the problems with bread overrode those hopes. They were however seen as an asset in fields where cows were grazed. The cows were observed to relish the Cow-wheats in the grass and there was a widespread belief that including them in the cows diet resulted in significantly higher quality butter made from their milk. These observations apply far more to the Common Cow-wheat, since the Small Cow-wheat is found mostly in woodland and shade with some of the largest populations occurring in woodland by lakes because it is favoured by higher humidity environments.

Photograph – Small Cow-wheat, Melampyrum sylvaticum, Abernethy Forest, Cairngorms National Park, Highland Scotland

The Small Cow-wheat is extinct in England and Wales, extremely rare in Ireland and is only really found in Scotland and even there it is only found infrequently. It is classified as nationally scarce in Britain.

Juniper

Illustration – Common Juniper, Juniperus communis

Previously much more widespread in Highland Scotland and referenced in Gaelic placenames, Juniper and Juniper berries have for centuries found a place in kitchens and distilleries especially of gin, places of healing where the berries are used for gastric illnesses or to stimulate labour in childbirth and places of ceremonies where the aromatic smoke Juniper produces is seen as ritually purifying. Juniper actually gives off very limited amounts of visible smoke when burned, which has meant using the wood for fuel is noted with illicit alcohol stills where the operators are trying not to attract attention. Dispersed into the air as an oil-based vapour, Juniper extracts may be effective in limiting airborne infections and were used in European hospitals in the first part of the 20th century. Medicine is now looking to the Juniper for possible new treatments for cancer and Parkinson’s disease.

Illustration – Common Juniper, Juniperus communis

Cited as one of the first shrubs to recolonise the land after the ice ages in Britain, the Juniper has a long history in Scotland going back over 12,000 years. It actually needs open land, it cannot grow well in shade, and the conditions helped it and it probably worked in an ecosystem held in balance by the mammoths in the same way that elephants are the architects of African grasslands today. In decline now, it needs help through conservation to ensure its future. Perhaps it has earned it, in The Highlands there is a tradition of burning Juniper on New Year’s morning in both the house and byre to purify the home, the buildings, the people and the animals. As such, it was felt to be the giver of security for hundreds of years and it could have earned a small gift of security in return. Juniper trees in Britain can live to 200 years old and they deserve the chance of a full long life. It’s a chance that would be supported by all Mistle Thrushes. They are so drawn to the berries that they treat a Juniper tree like a territory and try to defend it against all rivals. In return, the thrushes help spread the seeds laying the foundation for future generations of their descendants and the Junipers they will contest for ownership.

Illustration – Juniper Berries, Juniperus communis