Plants that heal. Humans have been stuffing plants in their mouths for centuries hoping to feel better, look better, smell better, or just be better in some mysterious way - and sometimes it works! It’s really not so amazing that the latest wellness fads return to natural plants to promote health, since the vast majority of modern medicines come from natural plants or from synthetic versions of substances copied from natural plants. How did we learn all this amazing knowledge down through the ages about the natural healing powers of plants? Well, fortunately, history has given us the stories of a great many people who were brave, curious, adventuresome, self-sacrificing, and, perhaps most importantly, downright foolhardy. It is to these brave and slightly mad souls that we owe many of the miracles of modern medicine. The first doctors or early healers (shamans, if you will) spent much of their time stuffing plants in their mouths to see which ones could cure what ailed them or others. And, if it worked, the shaman immediately became a hero - a character rich, famous, popular, loved, lauded, or hated by the culture in which he or she lived. Or, if it didn’t, the shaman sometimes became dead.

Mankind’s use of herbs. Mankind’s use of herbs predates written history and spans the globe. One of the first written accounts we have comes from China. According to local legend, the Chinese study of herbal remedies was started around 5400 years ago by the mythological emperor and sage named Shen Nung. Shen Nung is credited with inventing agriculture, discovering many herbs, investigating their medicinal properties by testing them on himself, and writing the first, and still-classic, herbal guide, the Pen Tsao Ching. It lists 237 prescriptions. Unfortunately, Shen Nung encountered first-hand the danger of some natural remedies: He died after consuming too much of a toxic herb. That didn’t discourage later emperors, however, from coming up with a succession of new guides for the use of herbs. Emperor Li Shih-Chen, following this tradition of trying to outdo prior emperors, published in 1590 the Pen Tsao Kang Mu - a 52-volume catalogue of medicinal herbs listing eleven-thousand formulations from nearly eleven-hundred different plants^[3].

Ancient Chinese healers. Ancient Chinese healers used many of the herbs we still use today although not always for the same reasons. The Pen Tsao Ching, for example, recommends gingko for the heart and lungs, and suggests eating its roasted seeds to aid digestion and prevent drunkenness^[4]. But I wouldn’t count on that! Licorice, a Chinese remedy, has been used for thousands of years to treat sore throats, coughs, food poisoning, respiratory problems, cancers, liver problems, uterine complaints, and malaria^[5]. And you may know the world’s oldest medicine, called ma huang in China, by its Western name, ephedra^[6]. The Chinese used this bronchial decongestant to treat colds, coughs, fevers, malaria, headaches, and skin eruptions^[7]. Mint was used for colds, coughs, fevers, and to improve digestion^[8]. Another herb to get the nod for digestion was anise, which was also used to reduce or prevent the embarrassment of flatulence or to refresh the breath^[9]. (Although during the Han Dynasty, citizens were required to instead hold cloves in their mouths to conceal bad breath when addressing the emperor.) Cloves were used both as a culinary spice and medically to treat indigestion, diarrhea, ringworm, athlete’s foot, and hernias^[10]. Rosemary wasn’t left to the kitchen either. When mixed with another popular spice, ginger, rosemary was used for headaches, malaria, insomnia, and indigestion^[11]. You can thank seasick Chinese sailors for their discovery that ginger reduces nausea, a treatment still in use today. The Pen Tsao Ching recommends ginger for colds, fever, chills, tetanus, leprosy, and body odor. And it was also thought to put a person in touch with the spiritual realm. Chinese physicians have prescribed ginger for arthritis and kidney problems and many Chinese women still drink ginger tea for gynecological complaints. And if you’ve ever wondered why the spice is used in so many Chinese seafood dishes, it’s because ginger is considered to be a remedy for poisoning by shellfish^[12]. One of the most valued Chinese herbs that has stirred up some controversy lately is panax ginseng. The term panax comes from the Greek word panacea, or "all-healing," while the term ginseng means "man plant" in Chinese, because its root is shaped like a person. It may as well mean "very expensive" too, since the highest quality roots have sold for as much as ten-thousand dollars an ounce^[13]! Ginseng was praised in the Pen Tsao Ching as a mental stimulator and the root’s resemblance to a human figure with arms and legs led to its use as a tonic for the entire body. Ginseng was especially popular with the elderly for treating lethargy, arthritis, senility, menopausal problems, impotence, and just plain loss of sexual interest. As you can imagine, it became an herb in high demand over the years leading to widespread shortages and frequent problems with fraudulent products. Even today, some of the same problems often arise^[14].

Ancient Indian healers. Right on the heels of the Chinese herbalists were the Ayurvedic healers of India. The name Ayurveda is a combination of the Sanskrit words ayur, meaning life, and veda, meaning knowledge. India’s four books of classic wisdom, the Vedas, gave rise to Ayurvedic medicine. The oldest of these books, the Rig-Veda, was written around 2500 BC. Prescriptions that use as many as sixty-seven different herbs are described in it^[15]. Like the Chinese, the Indians used mint for cough, cold, fever, and as a digestive aid, seemingly ignoring its potential as a breath freshener^[8]. Cloves they used medicinally for respiratory and digestive problems^[16]. Another herb that finds more use in Ayurvedic healing than in the kitchen is sage, which is used to treat hemorrhoids, vaginitis, gonorrhea, and eye problems^[17]. And, if you’ve ever eaten an Indian dish flavored with curry, then you’ve probably tasted fenugreek, the Ayurvedic remedy for arthritis, bronchitis, and indigestion. Fenugreek is included in most blends of the spices used to flavor traditional Indian curry dishes. And breast-feeding Indian mothers often ate its seeds to enhance the production of their milk^[18]. Aloe was another plant held in high regard by women. The aloe gel is called kumari in Sanskrit, meaning goddess. Ayurvedic medicine believes aloe has significant restorative and anti-aging qualities for females^[19]. They used the juice of periwinkle leaves to treat wasp stings^[20], and the Ayurvedic healers knew about gingko too. They valued it as part of the longevity elixir that they called soma^[21]. The herb that garnered the most notoriety for them, though, was garlic. Garlic has been widely used to treat cancer and leprosy in India for thousands of years. It became so standard for treatment of leprosy that British colonists, who observed how much time lepers spent peeling and eating garlic cloves, nicknamed the disease "peelgarlic^[22]".

Ancient Egyptian healers. India’s lepers had nothing on the ancient Egyptians though. According to the Greek historian Herodotus^[23], the Nile dwellers ate so much garlic that he called them "the stinking ones." The strong-smelling herb is celebrated in the Egyptian Ebers Papyrus, the world’s oldest surviving medical text, which includes garlic in twenty-two different remedies for headache, menstrual cramps, insect bites, scorpion stings, tumors, worms, and heart problems. The ancient Egyptians even gave their slaves daily rations of garlic to help prevent illness and increase endurance. As a matter of fact, according to legend, the world’s first labor strike occurred when a garlic shortage caused the garlic rations for slaves to be cut during the construction of a pyramid. The herb was so revered that fifteen pounds of it could actually buy a healthy male slave. Garlic was also considered sacred enough to swear upon when taking an oath, and it was found in King Tut’s tomb^[24]. Garlic, however, was only one of many natural remedies suggested in the lengthy Ebers Papyrus. This 65-foot-long medical scroll dates from around 1500 BC and lists 876 herbal concoctions from more than 500 plants. It also lists some rather strange-sounding formulations, such as a shampoo concocted from decaying fronds of palms, paw of dog, and hoof of donkey, all boiled up in an oil and then rubbed on the head^[23]. Perhaps Cleopatra knew something we don’t? Or, then again, maybe that’s why she wore all those peculiar headdresses. Legend has it that her best-kept beauty secret was something more aesthetically pleasant - aloe vera^[25]. It’s listed in the Ebers Papyrus as a skin treatment. And as a laxative and infection fighter as well. In fact, aloe was such a coveted plant that it actually caused a war in the third century BC. When Alexander the Great conquered Egypt, he heard that aloe grew on an island off Somalia and he sent an army there to seize the island and get the plant. One story says that the herb’s healing powers for his soldiers’ wounds motivated him^[26]. Another says that he wanted the violet dye produced only by the aloe plants indigenous to that island^[25]. Fenugreek was another herb the Egyptians valued for its healing effects on wounds and abscesses. Ancient physicians also prescribed it internally for fevers as well as respiratory and intestinal complaints^[18]. Archeological evidence suggests that fenugreek was used in embalming mixtures^[27] along with myrrh^[28], cinnamon^[29], and aloe^[30]. The Egyptians must have also thought very highly of licorice: A bundle of it was found in King Tut’s tomb^[31], as well. For those trying to delay their trip to the afterlife, Egyptian physicians used a variety of other herbs such as barberry to prevent plague^[32], calendula to rejuvenate^[33], and mint, of course, to sooth the stomach^[8].

Ancient Greek healers. The early Greeks viewed mint as they did many of their other herbs, not only for its medicinal uses, but also for its reputation in mythology. According to one Greek legend, Pluto (God of the underworld) became attracted to a beautiful nymph named Minthe. The goddess Persephone (Pluto’s wife) was, of course, none too happy about this, and so Minthe was changed into the fragrant (but suitably immobile) plant^[34] known by her name today. Other Greek housewives had a more favorable opinion of mint, and served the herb mixed with milk after meals as yet another forerunner of our modern-day after-dinner mint. Greek physicians thought it useful as well and prescribed it for ailments as mild as hiccups or as severe as leprosy^[8].

Greeks and garlic. When it came to leprosy, Greek physicians had the same idea as the Ayurvedic healers of India. They also treated leprosy with garlic. Hippocrates, founder of Greek medicine, loved garlic too. He prescribed it for infections, wounds, digestive problems, and cancer. Athletes ate it before competitions. Soldiers ate it before battle, perhaps inspired by Homer’s epic Odyssey in which the heroic Ulysses uses garlic to protect himself from the sorcery of Circe who had changed most of his crew (presumably those who had refused the herb) into pigs. Greek midwives also came to believe in the pungent herb’s protective powers and hung cloves of it around birthing rooms to guard newborns against disease and witchcraft^[24]. As much as the early Greeks revered garlic, however, the upper class came to despise its notorious lingering effect on the breath. Having garlic breath became a sure way not to be invited to posh parties. Cultured Greeks from ancient times all the way into the twentieth century have considered use of the herb as a sign of low birth^[22].

Helen and elecampane. Another herb that gained legendary status in Greek mythology was elecampane. Helen of Troy was said to have been busy gathering that plant when Paris abducted her, inciting the Trojan War. Elecampane’s scientific name, Inula helenium, reflects that tale^[35]. And who knows, maybe the story is true and Helen really was collecting the herb for its reported benefits. Hippocrates claimed that elecampane stimulates not only the kidneys, stomach, and the uterus, but also the brain^[36]. Perhaps Helen was feeling a little foggy that day and just didn’t see Paris sneaking up on her!

Rosemary and sage. Rosemary and sage were also thought to greatly benefit the brain. The Greeks, observing how these two herbs help preserve meats, figured they might also help preserve memory^[37]. Greek students apparently took this to mean that wearing garlands of rosemary on their heads might help them recall their studies, and began to sport them. Later, the plant was used to symbolize fidelity (presumably a form of memory) during wedding ceremonies and in memory of the dead during funerals^[38]. Other herbs had more practical purposes for the Greeks though. Hippocrates recommended vervain for fever and plague^[39], licorice for respiratory problems^[31], marshmallow plants for wounds^[40], and mistletoe for problems with the spleen. Other physicians of the time may have feared the toxic properties of mistletoe, however, since they did not ever suggest its use internally^[41].

Stinging nettles, gingerbread, and the marathon. Another herb that makes you wonder why anyone ever suggested eating it is the stinging nettle. Early Greek physicians suggested its internal use as an antidote to hemlock and henbane poisoning and its external use for snakebites and scorpion stings^[42]. But you can thank the Greeks for coming up with something way better to eat than stinging nettles - gingerbread. They started by wrapping gingerroot in bread and eating it after a big banquet, but eventually they just came to make the tasty bread with its digestive aid already included^[12]. And, for a colicky baby, Hippocrates suggested marathon. Not the race, but the herb we now call fennel. It grew wild in the city of Marathon about 26 miles (and 385 yards) from Athens. The endurance race now known as the Marathon celebrates the run of a messenger from there to Athens to announce the Greek military victory over the Persians in 490 BC^[43].

Dioscorides and Pliny. They may have won that battle, but the ancient Greeks lost one of their most celebrated herbal healers. He went to work for the Romans. Pedanius Dioscorides served as a physician to the court of the Roman Emperor Nero. In the year 78 AD, he published what was to become Europe’s first real herbal guide, De Materia Medica. It listed some 600 different plants and was one of the first books published after the invention of printing centuries later^[44]. Dioscorides suggested hyssop for respiratory complaints ^[45], licorice for respiratory and gastrointestinal problems^[31], and comfrey for that as well as for wounds and broken bones^[46,47]. One of his respiratory remedies may sound like it’s missing the point though: he actually urged smoking the herb coltsfoot^[48]. But his idea that sage was good for more than memory was seconded by Pliny the Elder, another of Rome’s ancient herbalists. They differed slightly about its use, however. Dioscorides pronounced it a diuretic and recommended its leaves as a good bandage. On the other hand, Pliny touted it for epilepsy, worms, snakebite, and chest problems. But they both said it would bring on a woman’s monthly cycle^[49].

How snakes regain their sight. Some of Pliny’s reasoning gives us a good example of how some herbs got their early reputations as cures. For example, he recommended fennel (marathon) as a cure for blindness after watching snakes rub up against the plant after shedding their skins. Their eyes were no longer clouded over. So Pliny (too hastily, as it turns out) assumed that fennel restores their sight, and, if so, then why not that of the blind^[50]? Roman warriors and ladies had other ideas for the plant. They ate it to stay trim during an age of serious feasting^[51].

Parsley, wedding cakes, and urtication. And you can blame Roman banquets for that sometimes-sad-looking piece of parsley on your plate. Not only was it prescribed for epilepsy and water retention^[52], but entire garlands were given to dinner guests to prevent odor and intoxication^[53]. But like the warning that goes for gingko, don’t count on parsley to keep you sober at the office Christmas party! Women of the early Roman republic inclined at times to too much wine may have started the modern-day practice of trying to cover the smell of alcohol on their breath by chewing gum. When threatened with death for drinking, some of them would chew a paste of mint and honey^[34]. That licorice-flavored herb, anise, was part of another Roman tradition that may have made its way into our times. After big banquets, it was often used in a large cake to prevent indigestion from overeating. This cake is believed to the forerunner of the modern wedding cake^[54]. One tradition you may not care to emulate is the Roman soldiers’ practice of urtication - flailing themselves with stinging nettle leaves. It was supposed to warm them up. And a similar use of nettles is sometimes mentioned today for arthritis and gout^[55].

Just downright doubtful. In the category of just downright doubtful, is one Roman physician’s suggestion to the emperor Theodosius the Great. He prescribed the root of the herb vervain to be cut in half, then one piece tied around the emperor’s throat and the other hung above a fire. When the piece above the fire shriveled up, the tumor in the emperor’s throat was supposed to shrink as well^[56].

The dreaded basil. Obviously, not all suggestions of Roman physicians were equally good when the most accomplished botanists were as likely to be praised for their poisons as for their cures^[44]. But they did offer a warning against eating at least one plant - the dreaded basil. Although Pliny thought it was great, Dioscorides and the Roman physician Galen both claimed it caused insanity and the spontaneous generation of worms. To the Romans (and the Greeks, for that matter) basil was a symbol of insanity and hostility. If you wanted to grow high-quality basil, they believed you had to yell and curse while planting it. That idea eventually led to the French expression for ranting and raving "semer le basilic" which literally means, "sowing basil^[57]".

The fall of Rome. All such ideas might have been lost forever after the fall of Rome, however, had it not been for monks. Monks, many of them Irish, copied the ancient herbal texts (Cahill,1995). One of the orders, the Benedictines, for example, even came up with a few of their own contributions. Their most famous of course, was flavoring wine with different herbs. This eventually led to our modern liqueurs. The Benedictines can’t take full credit for that idea though. They borrowed it from Arabs who were apparently among the first to mix plants with alcohol^[44].

Arabs, alfalfa, and dandelions. We can also trace the origin of many herbal names to the Arabs. For example, hey, they called alfalfa al-fac-facah, the father of all foods. But they only fed that fine food to their horses^[58]. The Arabs held sage, however, in high regard, for they thought it would render them immortal^[37]. And the Arab physicians were also the first to discover that those weeds that torment today’s suburban landscapers reduces water retention. Dandelions, they discovered, are diuretic^[59]. Later on, when big was considered beautiful, Arab women ate roasted seeds of fenugreek. The Benedictine monks get the credit for spreading the news about fenugreek for other uses though. They suggested it for fever, wounds, digestive upset, and respiratory problems^[60].

Hildegard of Bingen. The best known of the Benedictines was actually a woman who lived in the German Rhineland during the twelfth century. Hildegard of Bingen was the abbess of the Rupertsburg convent and an avid herbalist. She combined early German folk medicine, mystical Catholicism, and her own botanical experience in her book, Hildegard’s Medicine. Although much of her advice sounds fairly reasonable, she does occasionally stretch our imaginations. For example, she suggests rubbing a topaz soaked in wine on your eyes to improve bad vision^[61]. Another of Hildegard’s favorite remedies is fennel (marathon), which she says is good for colds, flu, and the heart. In addition, she says, it also simply makes you happy, helps your digestion, and improves your body odor^[50]. Hildegard also goes along with the notion that mint is good for digestion^[8], but she has her own ideas about parsley. For example, she recommends parsley compresses for arthritis and suggests boiling it in wine for chest and heart pains^[52]. She particularly approves of sage and suggests it for almost everything from headaches and the common cold to tuberculosis or whatever. At about the same time, an herbal guide from Iceland suggests sage to treat bladder infections and kidney stones^[37]. Vervain was another plant that found such wide support. Hildegard, for example, favors a mixture of vervain and vermouth for the care of toothaches, infections, and for a condition she describes as "discharges from the brain to the teeth." Vervain is also mentioned in Britain’s first book of herbs, The Leech Book of Bald, as one of the plants sacred to the druids and used by them for magic spells ^[56,61].

The Pied Piper of Hamelin. And speaking of spells, the plant that gets the nod from Hildegard as a terrific tranquilizer^[62] went on to become part of that famous German folk tale, The Pied Piper of Hamelin. Legend has it that valerian is actually what helped the Pied Piper lure the rats away from the city of Hamelin (and, subsequently, also it’s children). His music was evidently just a decoy^[63].

Witch hunts. With the arrival of the middle ages, came the witch-hunts, and many of the wise women healers of the time had to go underground or risk execution. Along with the usual accusations of trysts with the devil, supposed witches were charged with making love potions, aphrodisiacs, healing mixtures, abortion mixtures, cosmetics, and, of course, poisons. Depending on the dosage, that may have been an accurate assessment of some cases: Many herbs found in witches’ brews, while harmless in small amounts, are toxic in larger quantities^[18]. In any case, several different herbs were thought to protect against all those witches in the Middle Ages. For example, planting a juniper tree outside your house was one precaution you might consider to keep witches out^[65]. But there was a catch: If the witch could correctly guess the number of needles on your tree, she would be free to come right on in^[66]. Rosemary was thought to provide the same protection, without the worry of such a lucky guess. And, if you were a witch, or suspected to be one, then one herb you definitely wanted in your garden or cupboard was angelica. Peasants made necklaces out of the plant to protect their children from witchcraft and it was considered to be the only herb that witches never employed. In fact, having angelica in the house was even used as a legal defense against charges of sorcery. Centuries later, angelica root was one of the main ingredients in "Carmelite water" which was widely used for headaches, relaxation, long life, protection against poisons, and to ward off evil spells^[68].

Medieval medicine. A lot of other herbs remained popular throughout Europe during the Middle Ages despite the prejudice against witches. Elecampane, for example, was made into flat pink sugary cakes that apothecaries sold to treat asthma and improve digestion^[35]. Also, rosemary was supposed to clear vision, sharpen memory and senses, and cure nervousness^[69]. And the use of comfrey was suggested to heal broken bones, as it had been earlier used in Greco-Roman times. But now, herbalists were additionally prescribing the internal use of comfrey as a tea^[46]. The digestive aid, anise, became so popular as a medicine and a spice, for instance, that King Edward I found it fit to levy a special tax on it to fund repairs needed by London Bridge^[9]. Additionally, vervain became popular with the teenage set. Medieval teens believed that if they stood outside with a handful of vervain in a bundle of cloth, waited for a shooting star to pass by, then rubbed the bundle over their faces, their pimples would go away^[56].

Doctrine of Signatures. But some herbal remedies suggested by medieval healers were based on their version of scientific fact - the Doctrine of Signatures. This doctrine stated that any plant was probably good for whatever it resembled. For instance, fennel and barberry both have yellow flowers and barberry’s roots can be used to make a yellow dye. And so, by the Doctrine of Signatures, that means that they must be good for diseases that cause yellowing of the skin and eyes - namely, jaundice. Right? Consequently, both of these herbs wound up with reputations as treatments for liver problems ^[50,70].

English herbalist, John Gerard. The early English herbalist, John Gerard, evidently agrees with the Doctrine of Signatures when it comes to St. John’s Wort. Although most-mentioned today as a substitute for Prozac^[71], in the sixteenth century, its tendency to release a red-colored oil meant that it must be good for treating bloody wounds. Gerard accordingly considers it a most precious remedy for deep wounds and also suggests its use as a diuretic and as cure for kidney stones^[72]. For liver problems, Gerard claims that milk thistle is the best remedy^[73]. And, if you had an upset stomach, he might have told you to munch on a bunch of alfalfa^[74] - the stuff, you’ll recall, that the Arabs fed to their horses. Our English herbalist also likes sage for the same reasons as did the Greeks, plus a few more. He tells us that sage is "singularly good for the head and brain." And that it "quickeneth the senses and memory, strengtheneth the sinews, restoreth health to those that have palsy, and taketh away shaky trembling of the members^[75]." Also, if you’ve been looking for that sure cure for hiccups, Gerard recommends anise. In fact, Gerard suggests anise for just about everything from water retention to cancer^[9]. Valerian gets his nod for chest congestion, convulsions, falls, and the resulting bruises^[62]. Gerard claims that yarrow is good for swellings of the private parts^[76].

Golden saffron. But the herb that wins his highest accolades is also one of the priciest - saffron. Gerard calls this plant a true lifesaver, saying that it can bring back patients near death’s door. That’s not the reason it’s so expensive, though. The reason lies in the sheer mathematics of saffron, which follows from the three golden stigmas that protrude from the center of its flower. They’re used not only for cooking and healing, but also for dyes and perfumes. Now, imagine how much the tiny, delicate stigma of a single saffron flower weighs. Next, imagine how many such stigmas it might take to make a pound of the stuff. Now you know why saffron tends to sell for about five hundred dollars an ounce^[77]!

Herbs and exploration. Another herb popular during the Middle Ages actually helped to start the Age of Exploration. After the Magellan expedition returned with a load of cloves, Europeans began to use cloves for all sorts of maladies including digestive disorders, coughs, warts, wounds, toothaches, and infertility^[78]. Not to be totally outdone, Jacques Cartier claimed in his book, Voyages to Canada, to have found a tree - the Canadian Anneda tree - whose bark and needles make a life-saving tea. This tea, he reports, had saved his crew just as they were all about to expire. The French explorers, it seems, had tried to sail up the St. Lawrence River in winter, became stranded by ice, and ran out of fresh provisions. The Quebec Indians who rescued them also showed them how to make the pine-tree tea that saved those of Cartier’s crew who had not yet succumbed to scurvy^[79].

Flowers of passion. Meanwhile, in the Peruvian Andes, Doctor Nicholas Monardes of Seville, feeling not a little guilty about his Spanish countrymen having brutally forced the Incas to accept the blessings of Christianity, was searching the hills for some benign sign of heavenly approval. He soon ran across a tropical vine whose showy flowers seemed to him so symbolic of the crucifixion that he named it the passionflower. It was exactly the kind of sign that Monardes had been looking for. It turns out that the Incas, already familiar with the plant, had been using it for years to brew a pleasant-tasting tea. Soon afterwards, passionflower tea came into common use as a tranquilizing tonic in Europe^[80]. Dutch explorers and traders of the sixteenth century weren’t content just to bring stuff back, so they took up the export of herbs as well. It was the Dutch who first took sage to China, where they happily traded one pound of sage for three pounds of tea. The Chinese then began the use of sage for depression, insomnia, mental illness, menstrual complaints, various gastrointestinal problems, and mastitis in nursing mothers^[37].

The dreaded basil, again. Despite all the open-mindedness about new plants and new places, one herb that had been commonly used in Europe for colds, warts, and worms suddenly fell out of favor once again during the Middle Ages. Basil became associated with nightmarish side effects thanks to a story by the French botanist, Tournefort, who tells us of a man who frequently used basil as snuff, turned mad, and died. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Tournefort also claimed that there was a nest of scorpions found in the man’s brain^[81]. Try getting your eight-year-old to take basil for a cold after hearing that story!

English herbalist, Nicholas Culpeper. Probably the most influential herbal writings of the time, though, come from England’s Nicholas Culpeper. Culpeper came from an aristocratic family of the seventeenth century but nonetheless fought for the Puritans against the monarchy of King Charles the first. Although the Puritans won, Culpeper was hit with a musket ball in his chest, leaving him in poor health and sparking his interest in medicine. He first attended Cambridge University, then became an apothecary’s apprentice, and soon began to resent the medical snobbery of the British upper classes. Since he could read Greek and Latin, he decided to translate the manual of the College of Physicians for use by apothecaries and common people, which no doubt irked the local physicians.

The Complete Herbal and English Physician. Then, in 1652, Culpeper went a step further and published his own book, The Complete Herbal and English Physician. In it, he combines ancient herbal remedies with the traditional folk wisdom of England’s country people. What may have seemed like a perfect marriage at the time paled a bit later as new medical discoveries were made. Add to this the fact that Culpeper advocates astrology and tends to get a bit carried away with his suggestions, and you may begin to see why modern herbalists don’t endorse many of his ideas^[82]. But that doesn’t mean that they don’t still show up from time to time in books on herbal healing. His suggestions include using hyssop mixed with honey to get rid of worms^[83]. Or boiled with figs for tonsillitis. Or with wine for inflammations^[84]. Culpeper agrees with the use of juniper as a diuretic, but goes on to say that it is so effective against congestive heart failure that it actually cures the disease^[85].

Mad dogs and mothers’ milk. He elaborates heavily on the usefulness of mint, noting that it’s good for the bites of mad dogs, stopping menstruation, flow of mothers’ milk, and preventing men from enjoying their dreams a little too much when applied to the appropriate areas^[86]. Culpeper also accepts the fanciful teenage remedy for acne and turns it into a skin care regimen. He recommends mixing vervain with vinegar for use as a face wash or as a remedy for dandruff. He also accepts vervain as a treatment for jaundice, gout, bleeding gums, fever, plague, kidney stones, respiratory problems, and congestive heart failure.

Hog grease and private parts. And, mixed with hog grease then applied externally, vervain also reduces swelling and pain in the private parts^[56]. Culpeper sees sage as still another excellent substitute for soap. He recommends boiling it in wine or water to wash sore mouths, throats, cankers, and secret parts^[75]. Despite the earlier limits of mistletoe to external preparations, Culpeper now advocates its use internally for the spleen. He also prescribes it for epilepsy and stroke and suggests wearing a sprig of it around your neck. Not to garner kisses, but to protect you from witchcraft^[41]! Parsley gets a few extra endorsements too. Culpeper claims that parsley compresses are good for black-and-blue marks. And for inflamed eyes. Hmmm …

Parsley butter and breasts. But the cure that really makes us wonder how he ever thought it up is parsley fried in butter and rubbed on the breasts to relieve their soreness from nursing^[52]. Catnip is his way to treat that soreness of the nether parts we know as hemorrhoids^[87]. And he recommends gargling with a mullein concoction to ease toothaches^[88]. He also suggests mullein for coughs. As a matter of fact, Culpeper recommends nearly every herb for coughs.

Coltsfoot and private parts. But, up to that point, coltsfoot had been primarily used as a remedy for coughs. Now, Culpeper adds a few of his own suggestions, including its use for fever, inflammation, and burning in the private parts^[89]. Through Culpeper’s imaginative deftness, comfrey also acquires a few more uses. While those before him had endorsed comfrey primarily for treating broken bones, he now exalts its use for all inward and outward hurts including fever, gout, hemorrhoids, menstrual complaints, respiratory problems, and gangrene^[46].

Golden saffron, again. Another herb that Culpeper waxes poetic over is saffron. Saffron, he says, is elegant, exhilarating, and useful for strengthening heart and stomach as well as for many disorders of the breasts, menstrual problems, cleansing the lungs, aiding digestion, and, of course, for coughs. But he has a stern warning that has nothing to do with saffron’s extreme cost. Saffron, he warns, can be toxic in large doses, causing sleepiness and possibly convulsive laughter ending in death^[90].

Burdock for prolapse. Although there’s no risk of death reported concerning his prescription for burdock, you may feel as though you could die of convulsive laughter while trying it. For the condition known as uterine prolapse, in which the ligaments supporting the uterus weaken and allow it to fall, Culpeper advises the use of burdock. But he doesn’t advise ingesting the herb. Instead he says to place it on top of the head to pull the womb back up into its proper place^[91].

Garlic for the plague. In spite of all the bizarre suggestions of the times, the people of the Middle Ages were probably ready to try almost anything once the black plague hit them. Culpeper suggests valerian for plague^[62]; but garlic, the herb he dismisses as a poor man’s panacea, may actually have saved the lives of many poor peasants. While garlic had gained a bad reputation among the upper classes for its strong odor, many commoners often viewed it as a cure-all. They consumed it in vast quantities^[22]. And as the plague swept across Europe, many people eating a whole lot of this strong-smelling and unpopular herb were kept reasonably safe from the disease. Whether it was from protective effects of the garlic itself or just the fact that other people may not have wanted to get close enough to infect them, we can’t say for sure. But as the word spread, some less-than-honest citizens began gobbling garlic to protect them while they robbed those stricken by the plague. They soon found, however, that garlic would not always protect them: Those caught were summarily executed^[92].

The King’s Excellent Plague Recipe. Angelica also became part of the anti-plague efforts. According to legend, a monk dreamed of an angel who showed him the plant that cured the plague. The monk then named it in honor of angels^[93]. In any case, angelica eventually became part of Britain’s official remedy, The King’s Excellent Plague Recipe, concocted by the Royal College of Physicians. Angelica was mixed with nutmeg and other herbs, then brewed to make a tea taken twice a day to keep the plague away^[94]. There’s no real evidence that it was effective though. The Doctrine of Signatures (that a plant resembles what it’s good for) nonetheless persisted. Consequently, because its stems are hollow and allow air to pass freely through them, angelica later became a popular treatment for respiratory problems in the seventeenth century^[93].

Native American healers. Angelica was only one of the plants that the European colonists found Native Americans using when they arrived in the New World^[93]. Native tribes were also enamored with fenugreek, an herb, you may recall, that had long been used in Europe and Asia. They would mix its seeds with charcoal and grind them together into a paste for use as a poultice applied to ulcers and swellings. Fenugreek was also used by them to prevent blood poisoning. Unlike its use in Europe as a tea for high fevers, Native Americans used fenugreek as a throat gargle. And they boiled its seeds and mixed them with the milk of soybeans or nuts for extra nutrition^[95]. While the Egyptians had used barberry to help prevent plague, Native Americans used it to treat liver problems^[96]. And they used valerian, Culpeper’s remedy for plague, as a poultice to treat wounds^[62]. They also brewed licorice to make a tea that they used as a laxative, cough remedy, earache remedy, and to improve the flavor of other herbs^[31].

Savory syrups and smokes. One Native American recipe for a savory cough syrup adds a simmered mixture of licorice, boneset, slippery elm, and flaxseed to a base of molasses with brown sugar^[97]. The colonists brought mullein, their own respiratory remedy, with them to the New World where the native population quickly adopted it. Odd as it may sound now, the preferred way to use mullein for coughs, bronchitis, and asthma in those days was to smoke it^[88]. The settlers also brought vervain with them but found that Native Americans were already using blue vervain (Indian hyssop) to treat fever, cloudy urine, and sundry gastrointestinal problems^[98].

Soothing teas and gin. They also found natives along the gulf coast who were using the leaves of passionflowers in a poultice applied to cuts and bruises and who were drinking its tea to sooth shattered nerves^[99]. The natives of what is now New Mexico had discovered another use of juniper, the herb that the British used to calm their nerves. Juniper berries were used to prevent infections in wounds, ease the pains of arthritis, and speed recovery from childbirth. The British also liked the berries of juniper, which they use now (and then) to flavor their gin^[85].

Stinging nettles, again. If you’ve ever run into stinging nettles while walking through the woods, it might take getting up a little nerve for you to adopt the Native American practice of drinking stinging-nettle tea to ease childbirth. And they also thought that drinking stinging-nettle tea during pregnancy would strengthen the baby^[55].

Mistletoe and blessed thistle. Mistletoe was used by Native Americans to stimulate contractions during childbirth. And also to induce abortions^[41]. But for those who didn’t want to get pregnant at all, they used blessed thistle. Although seemingly appropriate, its use as a contraceptive is probably not the source of its name. Its early use by European monks to treat smallpox is the rather more likely source of its name^[100].

Native American herbs. Native Americans are largely responsible, however, for quite a few of the herbs that we hear about today. Echinacea, for example, was a major medicine for the people of the plains who used it as poultices for wounds, stings, and bites; as a mouthwash for sore teeth and gums; and as a tea for colds, measles, smallpox, mumps and arthritis^[101]. Many native tribes used chaparral (creosote bush) for bacterial infections and elimination problems^[102]. And the Cherokees believed that buckthorn worked as a cathartic and to cure skin problems^[103]. They also used the tea they brewed from the leaves and bark of the birch for headaches, kidney stones, fevers, and digestive problems^[104].

Blue cohosh and quinine. The Cherokee, Chippewa, Iroquois and other Native American tribes used blue cohosh for menstrual problems and to delay delivery^[105]. Black cohosh, for example, was a favorite medicine for female concerns and snake bites^[106], and the herb cyani (bachelor's buttons) was used for bites and stings^[107]. And you can thank native tribes in the early Spanish colonies for their discovery of quinine, the anti-malarial drug, spotted by an alert Jesuit who noted that natives chewing the bark of the cinchona tree never caught malaria^[108].

Goldenseal and bear grease. Goldenseal is another herb found in the Americas. The Cherokees used it to treat arrow wounds and ulcers^[109]. A salve made from Pokeroot is still popular in some areas for burns and sores^[97]. Native Americans also mixed sage with bear grease for similar use and massaged their teeth and gums with its leaves and put them in their baths^[110].

American ginseng. The value of American ginseng was first learned by native tribes from Jesuit priests. It seems that a French explorer of Canada ran across some American ginseng and alerted Jesuit priests who quickly started shipping it to China for the handsome price of five dollars a pound. The Jesuits kept this trade a secret among themselves for several years, but after a while, people started wondering why celibate priests were so interested in a plant rumored to be an aphrodisiac. A few colonists tried the American ginseng with high hopes for romantic adventures, but were mostly disappointed. Some of the natives also tried it out as a love potion. But most of them mainly used it to provide energy, whet appetite, and aid digestion. Nonetheless, American ginseng was a hot commodity in the 1700s. Shipping agents would pay collectors a dollar a pound for it, making it the most valuable export product of the colonies. Even today, the herb provides a worthwhile return for those lucky enough to find it. Appalachian foragers, for example, receive about 200 dollars a pound for this rare plant^[111].

Plant lore galore. The early American settlers combined the plant lore that they brought with them from Europe with new facts they learned from the natives. One of the best-received new remedies was boneset. Native tribes used this plant for any fever-producing illness and also for colds, indigestion, constipation, arthritis, and to improve appetite. The name "boneset" comes from its use to treat "breakbone" fever, a viral disease that causes muscle pains so severe that it feels as if your bones are breaking^[112]. Mormons used ephedra (ma huang) to make "squaw tea" to treat asthma^[113].

America’s herbalist, Samuel Thompson. One of America’s most notorious herbalists, Samuel Thomson, became enamored with the herb lobelia. He claimed that no plant was more powerful for curing disease and promoting health. In fact, Thomson boasted that if he could get it to a person soon enough, he could always save them^[114]. Thomson, although he had only studied with a midwife and with some Native American healers, declared himself a doctor after curing his daughter’s supposedly incurable disease. He used a system of hot baths and herbs. And, of course, his favorite lobelia, which, by the way, often causes vomiting. In 1809, however, he was charged with murder for allegedly giving a patient a toxic dose of the herb. After Thomson was acquitted, he took his practice nationwide. He gave goldenseal its current name in place of its native description "yellow root" and touted it as an antiseptic^[115]. And, since he believed that most disease was caused by cold and cured by heat, he also used plenty of red pepper and bayberry to heat up the body^[116,117].

The American Civil War. With the onset of the American Civil War, soldiers on both sides found themselves making use of the plants that they found around them. Troops took boneset infusions not only to treat fevers, but as a general tonic to stay healthy^[118]. Confederate army doctors turned to mullein when their traditional medicines for respiratory problems ran out^[119]. And they used the roots of wild yams to treat soldiers for colic and cramps^[120]. The herb that came into practice on actual battlefields, though, was calendula. Doctors used its leaves to dress open wounds^[33].

The American Eclectics. After the American Civil War, a major influence on American herbal medicine came from a group comprised largely of disgruntled doctors, some native-style healers, and a few Thomson devotees. This unlikely colligation of characters first named themselves as the Reformed Medical Society. However, they soon thereafter renamed themselves as the Eclectics in recognition of their diverse approaches to medicine. This was apparently an appropriate choice, since in 1845, they opened the first medical school in the nation to admit women. This quickly changed, however. Even the highly idiosyncratic Eclectics were soon forced to fall in line with the prevailing prejudices of the era.

Eclectic choice. In spite of this setback, the Eclectics experimented with, analyzed, and often ultimately recommended many of the herbs that they studied^[121]. Once they found an herb they liked, they often suggested its use for a myriad of problems. They, for example, prescribed elecampane for asthma, bronchial problems, lung congestion, weak digestive organs, night sweats, itching, severe colds, to promote menstruation, and as a diuretic^[122]. If you weren’t happy with that choice of herb, many other herbs were recommended by the Eclectics for many of the same uses. Among their favorite diuretics was burdock, which was also suggested as a treatment for arthritis and skin infections^[91]. Also mullein, which the Eclectics also liked for respiratory problems, hemorrhoids and diarrhea^[88]. And nettles, which they recommended for most of the same reasons^[55]. And also parsley, which the Eclectics further endorsed as a laxative and instead of quinine for the treatment of malaria.

King’s American Dispensatory. They went still further in their book, King’s American Dispensatory, to recommend the active chemical of parsley oil, apiol, for menstrual complaints, but noted that high doses of parsley oil can cause intoxication, flashes of light, vertigo, and ringing of the ears^[123]. Vervain, the same herb that Revolutionary War doctors had used to relieve pain, was suggested by the Eclectics for fever, colds, cough, worms, bruises, and menstrual irregularity. Vervain was also touted as a general tonic for patients recuperating from disease^[98]. For the workaholics of the day, the Eclectics would no doubt have prescribed ginseng as a mental stimulant. They also suggested its use for indigestion, laryngitis, respiratory ailments, loss of appetite, and to invigorate the virile powers^[111].

Anti-invigoration. And, if your virile powers were a little too invigorated? Well, the Eclectics had an answer for that as well. In addition to its use for fever and arthritis, sage was supposed to be a valuable anti-aphrodisiac to be used in conjunction with moral restraints and other aids, if necessary^[75]. For those who, in spite of these valuable aids, still gave in to temptation, the Eclectics came up with several different cures for venereal disease including barberry, juniper, and myrrh. Barberry was also used for jaundice, eye infections, and cholera^[70] and juniper was also hailed for congestive heart failure^[85]. Even the Eclectics realized the dangers of some herbs however, and included a warning with their endorsement of myrrh pointing out that large doses of it can cause sweating, nausea, rapid heartbeat, vomiting, and a violent laxative effect^[124]. Mistletoe was another cure that could be worse than the problem. The Eclectics used it for congestive heart failure, epilepsy, typhoid fever, menstrual complaints, and recovery from the rigors of childbirth, but added that coma, convulsions, and death had been reported from eating its leaves and berries^[41]. Even the mild-mannered herb valerian came with its caveat. While good for epilepsy, spasmodic affectations, and hypochondria, we're warned that high doses of valerian may cause agitation, giddiness, nausea, and hallucinations^[125]. The Eclectics included no warnings with their prescriptions for garlic, but you might think twice about them. Despite their dislike for its taste and odor, they agreed garlic was good for respiratory problems and that fresh garlic juice applied to the ear would cure deafness^[22].

Snake oil. One claim that even the Eclectics would not endorse, however, was that of echinacea as an antidote for rattlesnake venom. In 1870, a Nebraska patent-medicine salesman wrote the Eclectics about his product, Meyer’s Blood Purifier (echinacea), which he claimed to be an absolute cure for rattlesnake bites and blood poisoning among other things. He even offered to let a snake bite him in their presence to prove the effectiveness of his remedy. The Eclectics never took him up on his offer, but they did eventually endorse echinacea for treating wounds, bites, stings, blood poisoning, diphtheria, meningitis, measles, chicken pox, gangrene, malaria, scarlet fever, syphilis, and the flu. And that’s how, after Meyer’s Blood Purifier, patent medicines came to be called "snake oil^[126]."

Lydia Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound. Black cohosh, an herb also often referred to as "snakeroot", was the key ingredient in one of the nineteenth century’s most popular patent medicines. Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound was introduced in 1876 as a treatment for female weakness or menstrual complaints^[106]. The compound also included dandelion, fenugreek, and licorice. Licorice is the only one of these original herbs that still remains in the version of the compound that is sold today ^[31,59,127]. When Pinkham’s compound first came out, it was introduced as the greatest medical discovery since the dawn of history. Obviously this didn’t make the health authorities any too happy. In part, due to their response, the Food and Drug Administration was eventually created^[127]. Whether the compound actually worked for its intended purpose we may never know. But it is credited with a population boom: People in the late 1800s began to use the slogan, "a baby in every bottle" for Lydia Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound^[128]. Perhaps that was because respectable ladies of the time couldn’t drink liquor. They could take medicine though, and the compound contained quite a bit of alcohol^[106].

World Wars and herbs. With the twentieth century came two world wars and a big change in how most people viewed herbs. French, British and Russian army physicians all used garlic to treat infected battle wounds and amoebic dysentery during the First World War. By the time of the Second World War, antibiotics had been discovered. Consequently, the only troops still using garlic were the Russians, who had run out of other medicine. Garlic then received the nickname "Russian penicillin^[129]". French nurses during World War II still burned a mixture of juniper berries and rosemary to kill germs in hospitals^[69], and valerian was employed during both wars to treat shell shock and nerves^[63]. But other than bilberry (associated with the superior ability of British pilots to hit their targets during World War II), herbs largely faded from the scene as scientific advancements were increasingly made and applied to the practice of medicine^[130].

Hoxsey’s cure for cancer. Not everybody was happy about this, however. And in the 1920s, a former Appalachian coal-miner named Harry Hoxsey came up with a formula that he claimed could cure cancer. Hoxsey had no medical training, but credited his powerful potion to his great-grandfather, who had watched a cancer-stricken horse eat certain plants. Hoxsey’s approach consisted of an external treatment with herbs and arsenic sulfide together with an internal treatment using a mixture containing barberry, licorice, buckthorn, burdock, cascara sagrada, red clover, prickly ash, bloodroot, and poke. By the 1950s, despite more than a hundred arrests for fraud, Hoxsey’s Dallas clinic was the world’s largest privately owned cancer center. Eventually, the FDA shut it down for violating drug-labeling regulations. His former head nurse now dispenses his treatment in Tijuana, although peer-reviewed literature and case histories have failed to prove that it’s successful.

Hoxsey’s demise. Despite taking his own medicine, Hoxsey himself cannot attest to its effectiveness. He died, sadly, not too long ago, of prostate cancer ^[131,132].

Herbs today. So, what are we to say of herbs today? There certainly has been a renewed interest recently in the use of these plants to maintain and improve health. Many people are again turning to folklore remedies for arthritis, depression, diabetes, heart problems, menstrual problems, and other ailments^[158]. The plants now, however, largely come packaged as pills instead of in their natural state. It is of interest to note that, in spite of previous reports that many herbal preparations contain toxins, a recent study found that these are the supplements most widely used by the customers of a health food store. And, while most such customers have health insurance, few of them consult with their doctors regarding the herbs that they're using^[133].

Plants that do. A few traditional plants that heal such as garlic, aloe, and echinacea are now finding their way into some health care books. However, most suggested uses of herbs come from recent herbal guides^[134], many of which rely heavily on the same sort of folklore that we’ve been discussing here.

Plants that don’t. Even some newer claims found in this literature are rather curious. For example, we find fenugreek listed as a contraceptive^[135]. Chaparral is supposed to get rid of those nasty LSD flashbacks^[136]. Dong quai is said to increase the breast-size of some women^[137]. Other uses they suggest for herbs often seem contradictory. Yarrow, for example, is said to be good for stopping a nosebleed if you roll up a leaf and insert it in your nose. And then we find the same procedure said to be good for starting a nosebleed to cure a sinus headache^[138]. The African herb, yohimbine, has received recognition in many recent herbals as an aphrodisiac. But it seems to be self-limiting. For example, the plant is supposed to work by bringing blood closer to the surface of the skin, and consequently lowering blood pressure. But these herbal books also caution that a person with already low blood pressure may wind up too fatigued for the herb to serve its intended purpose. And people with high blood pressure are cautioned against taking it^[139].

Perhaps you can tell. Perhaps you can tell from what I’ve just told you here that the history of herbal medicine is not only fascinating but a bit frightening as well. Up to seventy percent of American adults use some form of dietary supplement^[140]. Yet only a few of these products can point to scientific support for claims that they do, in fact, maintain or restore health. Furthermore, the toxicity or possible harmful interactions of many of these products has scarcely been studied. The marketing of herbal supplements as "natural" and therefore not harmful ignores the fact that many of these substances are very powerful and some are potentially deadly. Toxicities have been blamed on the main constituents of the herbs themselves, contamination with heavy metals or microorganisms, and personal characteristics of the consumer such as age, genetics, and disease^[159]. Consumers typically get information about dietary supplements from notoriously unreliable or uninformed sources.

My response. In response to these problems, I’ve just completed a study^[1] screening commonly used dietary supplements that claim to enhance immunity, act as antioxidants, or have antiviral properties. I've evaluated each product in this study by testing its in vitro effects on natural killer cells (immune system function), intracellular glutathione (antioxidant action), and its antiviral activity. Moreover, I've also screened each of them for toxicity by testing its in vitro effects on liver cells, peripheral blood mononuclear cells, and cytochrome p450 modulation. Some of the results of my study are shown below^[2].

Products tested. The products I tested were chosen because they are (or claim to be) particularly important for the health of cells. Also because I believe that cell health translates to the improvement or maintenance of general health. And also because I worry that many natural products can be toxic or can interact with other substances in ways that can be toxic.

Results of the Study