A Reference Guide to Medicinal Plants: Herbal Medicine Past and Present
560
A Reference Guide to Medicinal Plants: Herbal Medicine Past and Present
560eBook
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Overview
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780822379690 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Duke University Press |
| Publication date: | 02/28/1990 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 560 |
| File size: | 4 MB |
About the Author
John K. Crellin, Clinch Professor of the History of Medicine at Memorial University of Newfoundland, is a physician, pharmacist, and historian. His books include Medical Ceramics in the Wellcome Institute and Home Medicine: The Newfoundland Experience.
Before her death in 1997, Jane Philpott was Professor Emerita in the Department of Botany and the School of Forestry and Environmental Studies at Duke University.
Read an Excerpt
A Reference Guide to Medicinal Plants
Herbal Medicine Past and Present
By John K. Crellin, Jane Philpott
Duke University Press
Copyright © 1989 Duke University PressAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-8223-7969-0
CHAPTER 1
SCOPE OF THE MONOGRAPHS
Ethnobotany and Ethnopharmacology
Volumes 1 and 2 reflect studies in ethnobotany and ethnopharmacology that focus on relationships between plants and man, and investigate and evaluate the use of drugs in their cultural settings. However, there is some debate over what to document about current usage of traditional drugs in order to make a record that will satisfy a range of interests. Many past accounts are of uncertain value because they give long lists of uses for each plant without attempting to indicate whether the data are hearsay, commonplace, or firmly based. This is perhaps unavoidable when information is taken from published reports, but many recent field studies are equally elusive.
It has been suggested that an ideal account, or "monograph," of a medicinal plant should include (1) the plant (common and scientific names, infraspecific variation, habitat, availability of voucher specimen); (2) preparation of the medicine (plant part, collection, storage, preparation); (3) therapy (general and adjunct, disorder treated, kinds of practitioners, dosage regimen, route of administration, response to therapy, status of use); and (4) the patient (medical beliefs, community attitudes).
The monographs in this guide generally cover, first, Mr. Bass's verbatim information, compiled from many meetings with him; and, second, commentaries focusing, where relevant, on plant taxonomy, past uses and whether Bass's knowledge has historical precedence, occasional comparisons with uses elsewhere and with related plants, and assessments of Bass's knowledge in the light of phytochemistry, pharmacology, and the historical record. Where the monographs do not directly address such points as patients' attitudes and the role of the placebo, relevant information has been summarized in the introductory sections or in volume 1.
Unfortunately, space does not allow comparisons with usages elsewhere, even though it is generally felt that detailed comparisons—including of closely related plants— in different locations would reveal activities based on pharmacological actions rather than on cultural factors. There is much to be said for this view, but careful and detailed attention has to be given to transmission of information and to theoretical ideas which are common to more than one culture.
Limited space also allows only occasional references to nonmedical uses. However, we hope enough is said—in the context of Bass's intimate knowledge of nature—to emphasize that medicinal uses of plants are commonly just one aspect of a plant's economic value to man, and hence man's attitude to the plant. As seen in various monographs on "medicinal" plants used as foods, Bass appreciates that many plants, particularly vegetables, can serve as both food and medicine. His recollections suggest how he developed sympathy with the view that "while a garden feeds people, it also heals them." The close association of foods and medicines merits comment not only because it contributed to Bass's recent enthusiasm for selling some herbs as "foods," but also because it illustrates scientific and cultural forces affecting the ways plants are used, and why some people believe that foods and medicines are inseparable.
The opinion that many foods have real therapeutic value (curing as well as preventing disease) was a conspicuous feature of regular medicine until the early twentieth century. Until around 1800, a physician's armamentarium for treatment was always viewed as diet, medicine, and surgery. The reputations of various plants we consider —like chamomile, chicory, five-finger, and plantain—at times rested partly on usage as a medicine or beverage, including as "diet drinks" to accompany medicines.
During the nineteenth century, attitudes toward food plants changed, at least among the educated. Developments in chemistry that captured public imagination characterized food in terms of fats, carbohydrates, and proteins. This, with public sanction, tended to move consideration of food more and more into the realm of science: out of materia medica and clinical medicine and into physiological chemistry (especially the topic of digestion). By the early twentieth century, nutrition had become a specialist's area of knowledge outside the mainline interest of physicians. Knowledge of the importance of vitamins in health and disease only partly returned the subject of nutrition and varied diets into the arena of clinical medicine, a return—which has accelerated in recent years—to what people often say is "common sense"; namely, that food and health go together.
The story of the common ground between food and medicine embraces theoretical concepts and empirically based knowledge that are often difficult to disentangle. Considerations, for instance, of "aliments," or "nutrients," have long been embodied in health advice and rules for maintaining health. While explanations for the rules sometimes embraced theories that foods alter blood in the same ways that many medicines do, it is often thought that the rules arose from empirical observations undertaken over a long period of time. Deciding on the respective roles of empiricism and theory is not easy; for instance, it is difficult to say whether sensory properties—once considered important in ascertaining therapeutic actions (see volume 1, chapter 1)—helped to determine that only the young shoots of poke should be eaten as a vegetable and the root taken as a medicine, or whether this was merely the result of experience with toxic effects. Bass knows, too, that the reputation of a plant as a food can depend on the mode of preparation; he considers that lightly cooked cabbage produces too much stomach acid or flatulence.
Although Bass has a fund of information and ideas on the healthfulness of vegetables and fruits—apart from their specific value for certain medical complaints—he has only recently begun to emphasize nutrition to his visitors; earlier, he had assumed that most had a good diet as long as they did not overcook greens. Nowadays, he wishes to share his knowledge—what he calls common sense—because of what he has heard about "junk food" and because he believes that his knowledge contains much Indian lore. He is attracted to Indian concepts that "medicine" or treatment, as a pervasive power, can be mediated in different ways which avoid absolute distinctions between food and medicine. Throughout the monographs, whose main sections we next outline, many other illustrations of man's attitudes toward and relationships with plants can be found.
The herbalist's verbatim comments.
Most studies on traditional medicine comprise information assembled, often indiscriminately, from diverse informants. A single source like Bass, with his unusually acute memory, is therefore of special interest. In many ways he has garnered and synthesized an entire community's knowledge— certainly that of the "old-timers"—and he has subjected much of that knowledge to the experiences of himself and his visitors. Folks, he says, "often get things wrong." While he has read a great deal about herbs, he tends to assimilate only the information which is compatible with or reinforces his existing knowledge. When he reads about a new plant or a new use for a plant for the first time, Bass generally "checks" it with his own experience before recommending it widely. Special weight can therefore be given to the credibility of his accounts, in contrast to much of the recent advocatory literature, which often indiscriminately pulls together information from the past, sometimes from the "panacea" phase of a medicinal plant's history. It is, in fact, of special interest that many past reputations have not reached him, which suggests that sometimes they may have little validity.
Verbatim accounts (rather than summaries) offer the student of herbal medicine valuable data for various reasons. First, they provide original terminology so that readers do not wonder whether such terms as blood clots, high blood pressure, or hypertension are the words of informants or the interpretations of observers. Second, a context is often given for a particular reputation, such as strong local testimonials. A third reason is that verbatim accounts allow ready comparison of present practices with past reputations, which often raises questions about transmission of knowledge: why some persists and some does not.
Yet another reason for our often extensive accounts is to record Mr. Bass's knowledge; it is clear to us that much of it will disappear with him unless it is preserved here. It is true that he has had some "apprentices," but we believe that through them and their use of the health advocacy literature, the character of his herbal knowledge and practice— with its identifiable roots into the past and his own baseline of experience with nature— is unlikely to survive.
Authors' commentaries.
The commentaries include botanical names and selected, commonly used synonyms, historical perspectives on usage, chemical constituents, physiological effects, and comments on Bass's remarks. They are designed not only to provide an understanding of Bass's knowledge and perceptions of a plant and why he uses or recommends it, but also to give a reasonably full account of the plant so that the information can have practical value for those using herbs or those in a position to advise on their use and how they may interfere with prescription or over-the-counter medication.
The plants. All plants tagged by asterisks have been collected on numerous field trips with Mr. Bass. Plants were gathered during the growing seasons of four consecutive years from favorite habitats near his home. Some were obtained within short rides into the mountains and valley, mostly within Cherokee County. A few collections were made just over the northwestern county line in Dekalb County.
The plants are listed alphabetically according to the best-known or a very well-known vernacular name. This seems preferable to using scientific names for headings, because it readily allows bringing together a "medical" group of plants; those that, as many herbalists say, "all act the same."
Although vernacular names commonly apply to more than one species, the custom in many publications on medicinal plants is to use the name in singular form to cover a "group" of plants where close botanical and medical associations exist. On the other hand, when the plants are less closely related (that is, from different genera or possessing different medical reputations), the vernacular name in the plural is employed. The single-plural distinctions are, in some instances, subjective and open to debate, and they raise questions about the development of folk classification of plants, a topic considered in volume 1, where it was noted how Mr. Bass sees "families" of useful herbs. Singular and plural names provide an appreciation of different degrees of analogy at play. When, as in the case of many "brooklimes," habit and habitat are the only common factors, it is not surprising that folk and scientific classifications are often at variance.
The innumerable synonyms for many plants not only raise thoughts about folk classification in general but also pose a question: Why do some names become more popular than others? It is often said that plants with many vernacular names have been widely known, but some of the best-known plants (e.g., angelica) have very few popular names. The many cultural facets of the vernacular names listed cannot be explored, although the topic of plant names is of special interest to many people. Much of this interest lies in continuity and change, and for naturalized plants we start with English names used in the Herball of John Gerard, who took particular interest in vernacular names; italics indicate that the names are known to Mr. Bass. Additional names listed are those common in modern floras and older medical texts, and others with a medical connotation or known by Mr. Bass. The names given first for indigenous plants are frequently taken from B. S. Barton's Collections toward a Materia Medica (1798), with those known to Bass italicized; others are well known in floras and medical texts, and some are little known but locally popular.
One feature of vernacular names is that whereas many are used very loosely by lay-people for a group of plants (e.g., bindweeds), botanists commonly employ them in a more restricted sense. This lack of consistency contributes to difficulties in evaluating past discussions on many plants.
A characteristic of most herbal practices is that herbs are gathered locally. There has been a great deal of discussion on differences, both small and large, in traditional practices from one region to another, and unquestionably a relevant factor is simply the availability of plants. The richness of medicinal plants in the Appalachian flora accounts for the description "crude drug capital of the world" and the long history of the commercial collection of Appalachian herbs. While Bass knows innumerable plants from the Appalachians, he has collected only about sixty regularly. The others he knows as alternatives or "facsimiles" to be used if the favorite medicines are unavailable. If one medicine does not "work" he is always ready to substitute another. Echoes exist of past attitudes toward the importance of being able to select from a large materia medica.
Historical perspective. The historical perspective in the commentaries not only documents many antecedents of Bass's knowledge but also indicates the extent of long-term interest in a particular plant. This often suggests reasons for the depth of Bass's knowledge on specific points. As we discussed earlier, professional medicine has been an important factor in sustaining lay knowledge; time and time again one sees a very close relationship between Bass's knowledge and that recorded in onetime standard medical textbooks.
In contrast, much information given in recent herbal literature, despite claims to historical authenticity, has never been widely accepted. In fact, scientists who use the "historical approach" to identify potentially effective medicinal plants sometimes employ the historical record without sufficient discrimination. As the monographs make clear, the medical literature is full of sharp disagreements between one "authority" and another, and many uses were listed at the whim of a particular practitioner or author. By consulting a wide range of sources beyond the specific citations, we have tried to determine consensus opinion where it exists or existed regarding the popularity of the plants within regular and domestic medicine. Aside from printed textbooks, efforts were made to examine medical and popular journals as well as manuscripts such as medical student lecture notes.
Many plants employed by Bass are naturalized and commonly have uses extending back to classical times. To save space each account generally begins with information from Gerard's famous Herball. Gerard provided much information from earlier writings on materia medica, such as those by Dioscorides, data from the oral tradition, and fresh observations. The influence of Gerard's tome, widely used as a source for other studies and probably well known in the American colonies, was considerable. It, and the enlarged second edition (1633) edited by William Johnson, helped spread Renaissance knowledge about medicinal plants and pointed the way to a more critical approach to drugs. Certainly, much revision of the medical use of plants took place after Gerard's work, particularly during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. In endeavoring to indicate the popularity of a plant in nineteenth-century America, we have relied on a series of generally critical authors, including B. S. Barton, W. P. C. Barton, E. Eberle, R. E. Griffith, L. Johnson, and R. Bartholow, as well as the U.S. Dispensatories. We indicate, where appropriate, whether or not indigenous remedies were promoted primarily by regular or by other practitioners.
Indigenous plants with uses similar to related European plants highlight questions about whether knowledge was acquired from American Indians, transmitted from the Old World, discovered independently by colonists, or a combination of these. Tentative answers will sometimes be given, although in most cases firm conclusions can never be reached. Indigenous plants without obvious European analogies raise questions about how medical uses were discerned by Indians, blacks, or whites, and whether new uses were developed from analogy with other plants.
When a plant has been widely used in regular medicine, it is generally recorded in the principal botanic/domestic medical literature. In the interest of saving space, reference to the latter is generally omitted unless additional pertinent information is recorded there. The thrust of much of the data is evidence of the dynamic relationship between herbal and regular medicine already considered.
Retrospective identification and its problems. Any comparison of medical uses recorded in the past with current practices raises vexing issues about the correct identification of plants. Recent remarks—made in the context of relations between academic botany and horticulture—raise relevant issues: "I am astonished by the fact that natural selection has not left a murkier trail of intermediate, connecting, divergent, ill-defined and misbegotten species, genera and families."
It is, in fact, the apparent discreteness and orderliness of the vegetable kingdom that has enticed historians, botanists, and others to take up the challenge of identifying plants described in the literature prior to the general acceptance of the modern binomial nomenclature introduced by Linnaeus in 1753. Identification problems—especially for plants described in writings from ancient Egyptian and classical times to the late medieval period—are readily apparent, if only because of the commonplace use of vernacular names for more than one plant, the general lack of adequate plant and habitat descriptions and illustrations, and the need among commentators for an extensive knowledge of the flora of regions from which plants are described, as well as knowledge of evolutionary trends.
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Excerpted from A Reference Guide to Medicinal Plants by John K. Crellin, Jane Philpott. Copyright © 1989 Duke University Press. Excerpted by permission of Duke University Press.
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