The herb Sweet Basil (_Ocymum Basilicum_) is so called because
"the smell thereof is fit for a king's house." It grows commonly in
our kitchen gardens, but in England it dies down every year, and
the seeds have to be sown annually. Botanically, it is named
"basilicon," or royal, probably because used of old in some regal
unguent, or bath, or medicine.
This, and the wild Basil, belong to the Labiate order of plants. The
leaves of the Sweet Basil, when slightly bruised, exhale a
delightful odour; they gave the distinctive flavour to the original
Fetter-Lane sausages.
The Wild Basil (_Calamintha clinopodium_) or Basil thyme, or
Horse thyme, is a hairy plant growing in bushy places, also about
hedges and roadsides, and bearing whorls of purple flowers with
a strong odour of cloves. The term _Clinopodium_ signifies "bed's-foot
flower," because "the branches dooe resemble the foot of a
bed." In common with the other labiates, Basil, both the wild and
the sweet, furnishes an aromatic volatile camphoraceous oil. On
this account it is much employed in France for flavouring soups
(especially mock turtle) and [46] sauces; and the dry leaves, in the
form of snuff, are used for relieving nervous headaches. A tea,
made by pouring boiling water on the garden basil, when green,
gently but effectually helps on the retarded monthly flow with
women. The Bush Basil is _Ocymum minimum_, of which the leafy
tops are used for seasoning, and in salads.
The Sweet Basil has been immortalised by Keats in his tender,
pathetic poem of _Isabella and the Pot of Basil_, founded on
a story from Boccaccio. She reverently possessed herself of
the decapitated head of her lover, Lorenzo, who had been
treacherously slain:--
"She wrapped it up, and for its tomb did choose
A garden pot, wherein she laid it by,
And covered it with mould, and o'er it set
Sweet Basil, which her tears kept ever wet."
The herb was used at funerals in Persia. Its seeds were sown by the
Romans with maledictions and curses through the belief that the
more it was abused the better it would prosper. When desiring a
good crop they trod it down with their feet, and prayed the gods it
might not vegetate. The Greeks likewise supposed Basil to thrive
best when sown with swearing; and this fact explains the French
saying, _Semer la Basilic_, as signifying "to slander." It was told
in Elizabeth's time that the hand of a fair lady made Basil flourish;
and this was then planted in pots as an act of gallantry. "Basil,"
says John Evelyn, "imparts a grateful flavour to sallets if not too
strong, but is somewhat offensive to the eyes." Shenstone, in his
_School Mistress's Garden_, tells of "the tufted Basil," and
Culpeper quaintly says: "Something is the matter; Basil and Rue
will never grow together: no, nor near one another." It is related
[47] that a certain advocate of Genoa was once sent as an
ambassador to treat for conditions with the Duke of Milan; but the
Duke harshly refused to hear the message, or to grant the
conditions. Then the Ambassador offered him a handful of Basil.
Demanding what this meant, the Duke was told that the properties
of the herb were, if gently handled, to give out a pleasant odour;
but that, if bruised, and hardly wrung, it would breed scorpions.
Moved by this witty answer, the Duke confirmed the conditions,
and sent the Ambassador honourably home.
BEAN (_see_ Pea and Bean).
BELLADONNA (_see_ Night Shade).
BENNET HERB (Avens).
This, the _Herba Benedicta_, or Blessed Herb, or Avens (_Geum
Urbanum_) is a very common plant of the Rose tribe, in our
woods, hedges, and shady places. It has an erect hairy stem, red at
the base, with terminal bright yellow drooping flowers. The
ordinary name Avens--or Avance, Anancia, Enancia--signifies an
antidote, because it was formerly thought to ward off the Devil,
and evil spirits, and venomous beasts. Where the root is in a house
Satan can do nothing, and flies from it: "therefore" (says Ortus
Sanitatis) "it is blessed before all other herbs; and if a man carries
the root about him no venomous beast can harm him." The herb
is sometimes called Way Bennet, and Wild Rye. Its graceful
trefoiled loaf, and the fine golden petals of its flowers,
symbolising the five wounds of Christ, were sculptured by the
monks of the thirteenth century on their Church architecture. The
botanical title of this [48] plant, _Geum_, is got from _Geuo_, "to
yield an agreeable fragrance," in allusion to the roots. Hence also
has been derived another appellation of the Avens--_Radix
Caryophyllata_, or "clove root," because when freshly dug out of
the ground the roots smell like cloves. They yield tannin freely,
with mucilage, resin, and muriate of lime, together with a heavy
volatile oil. The roots are astringent and antiseptic, having been
given in infusion for ague, and as an excellent cordial sudorific in
chills, or for fresh catarrh. To make this a pint of boiling water
should be poured on half an ounce of the dried root, or rather more
of the fresh root, sliced. Half a wineglassful will be the dose, or
ten grains of the powdered root. An extract is further made. When
the petals of the flower fall off, a small round prickly ball is to be
seen.