Thanks to the International Herb Association, since 1991 in the week proceeding Mother’s Day, we celebrate National Herb Week. This draws attention to herbs, their uses and herbal businesses and history. Such was the success that four years later, the IHA decided to add a Herb of the Year and this year on 5 May a National Herb Day.
In 2013 it is the turn of elderberry,
Sambucus nigra. Botanists class this under the Caprifoliaceae, or goat-foliaged, appropriately since the leaves and stems emit an odour some find strange, even rank.
A small tree or large somewhat straggly shrub, elder is not really suited to a small garden. Its coarse compound leaves and habit of throwing up pith-filled suckers do not endear it to those with restricted planting spaces. This is unfortunate since it has many beneficial qualities. Also, according at least to folklore, perhaps less welcome ones . . .
Certainly as early as Celtic times in Europe all parts have found multitudinous uses. Romans and Russians and Teutons through to the latest inhabitants of the British Isles all have come to know
Sambucus nigra, passing on its uses wherever they have settled.
Herbalist William Coles was mightily impressed with medicinal qualities of the elder, declaring: “There is hardly a disease from the head to the foot but it cures.” Indeed, an examination of the literature reveals even more extensive uses. As Coles wrote: “Should I give you all the virtues of the elder at large, I should much exceed the usual limits of a chapter” as we would for a modest article.
The foliage has found use medicinally in ointments for bruises, sprains, chilblains, and wounds, and also as a purgative, diuretic, expectorant, and acclaimed eye lotion. It was an adulterant for China tea in 18th century and has been used to dye fabrics. Gardeners once used it as a reportedly effective insecticide as well as a mouse and mole repellant. Rubbed on the skin it repelled flies, midges and mosquitoes and so the shrub was also often planted alongside privies, stables, dairies and slaughterhouses. A branch fastened to the horses’ harness had the same effect.
The creamy white blossom panicles were long valued to make elder water, a vital cosmetic in days of yore. Dipped in batter they make an admirable fritter or, depending on culinary preparation, syrup, wine or vinegar. Ointment from the flowers were used for relief from bruises, burns, scalds, chilblains; fomentations for external relief of pain and inflammation, ulcers, sores, hemorrhoids; and infusions used as eye lotion, skin eruptions, internally for fevers, influenza, pulmonary afflictions, colds and throat problems, gentle laxative, headaches, freckles, although William Cole lists more – far, far more!
The juicy black fruit is delicious in pies and puddings or simply as syrup, even as a soup. Preserved it is still capable of yielding excellent jellies, chutney or ketchup. And, of course for those whose thirst requires alleviating various wines. Historically, the berries have been used in the treatment of rheumatism, syphilis, colic, and diarrhea or, more prosaically, boiled in wine as a hair dye.
Elderberry juice was believed to cure colds and coughs, bronchitis, and earache or, more harshly as a laxative, diuretic, or emetic. The droppings of birds feasting on the berries dyes anything it lands on, so unsurprisingly it made for a good fabric dye or, by vain Romans, to colour their hair. It was also a notorious adulterant for cheap wines so much used to produce a pathetic imitation port that the bushes banned from Portugal.
For those overly well endowed, perhaps from indulging in elder recipes, in the past
Sambucus seeds were suggested as an effective weight reducer, powdered and taken in wine.
The young spring shoots might be pickled if they were not used to cure warts. Long before Toys R Us, boys being boys, they made whistles and popguns were made from the peeled branches, and fishing floats from the pith found inside. Indeed, the use of such musical wind instruments dates back to Roman times and has come down in Italy as a pipe called sampogna.
The inner bark of mature trunks yielded a strong purgative, emetic and diuretic, that also found use in the alleged cure of epilepsy. It probably made a more effective fabric dye.
The hard, close-grained wood from older trees was well known in days gone by for such smaller items as shoemakers’ pegs, combs, butchers’ skewers, mathematical instruments and even toys.
Finally the roots could be dug up and, once again used as a fabric dye or, if not in decoctions taken against mad dog and snakebite.
If the practical, everyday uses of elder are impressive when we enter into folklore they are perhaps even more so. Again, like William Coles, space limits detailed descriptions. Nevertheless, from the mists of the Highlands of Scotland to the Toe of Italy, from the Emerald Isle to the Steppes of Russia (were there once really thirty-nine?) there is mystery and menace, rhyme, romance and religion featuring elder.
An ancient tale has it that both the cross Christ was crucified on was made from elder while Judas Iscariot hanged himself from the tree. Both tales were surely promulgated by those who had never seen a
Sambucus. Notwithstanding the latter, legend maintains that it is unlucky to burn elder wood or even cut down a tree.
In clearing out old barns and stables it was not unusual to discover an elder branch formed into a cross and nailed to a beam to ward off wickedness. Not only olden cottages but also modern villas in southern England frequently had elder bushes planted nearby to protect from evil witches and to discourage lightning. Interestingly, the same belief held true in Scotland, where elders were often seen alongside crofters’ homes.
It has also been believed that the elder was a fairy tree. In Denmark, country folk held that if you stood under an elder at midnight on Midsummer Eve, you would see the king of the fairies and his court. A similar belief has been recorded from the Isle of Man, perhaps propagated by Vikings who once infested those shores.
Strangely considering the wide uses recorded for various parts of the plant, many of them were believed to bring bad luck if brought indoors. Even outside, amongst other country tales, folk maintained that if you went to sleep beneath an elder you would never waken. Unluckier still was the baby whose crib was similarly positioned – a witch might claim the poor mite.
According to correspondents of the London-based
New Scientist magazine, at one time in the not-so-recent past of dear old England, tales circulated among sub-teen boys that chalk and elderberries could be used as starter materials for making explosives. Alas for would-be al-Qaeda operatives, there appears to be no truth in this startling theory.
