The discovery, that many kinds of earth, when dried, might be employed as fuel, may have easily been occasioned by an accident in some place destitute of wood. A spark falling fortuitously on a turf-moor during a dry summer often sets it on fire, and the conflagration it occasions generally lasts so long that it cannot escape notice573. Of the earth taking fire in this manner there are many instances to be found in the ancients. One of the most remarkable is that mentioned by Tacitus, who relates, that not long after the building of the city of Cologne, the neighbouring land took fire, and burned with such violence that the corn, villages, and every production of the fields were destroyed by the flames, which advanced even to the walls of the city574. This remarkable passage is not to be understood as alluding to a volcanic eruption, but to a morass which had been set on fire. In the duchy of Berg and around Cologne there are very extensive morasses, from which turf is dug up for fuel, and which undoubtedly serve to confirm this idea.
That the use of turf was well known in the earliest periods in the greater part of Lower Saxony, and throughout the Netherlands, is fully proved by Pliny’s account of the Chauci, who inhabited that part of Germany which at present comprehends the duchies of Bremen and Verden, the counties of Oldenburg, Delmenhorst, Diepholz, Huy and East Friesland. Pliny says expressly, that the Chauci pressed together with their hands a kind of peat earth, which they dried by the wind rather than by the sun, and which they used not only for cooking their victuals, but also for warming their bodies575. I explain also by turf a short passage of Antigonus Carystius, quoted from Phanias, in which it is said that a morass in Thessaly having become dry, took fire and burned.
The account therefore given in some Dutch chronicles, that turf and the manner of preparing it were first found out about the year 1215, and that about 1222 it had become common, is certainly false576. This information may be applicable to certain lands and districts, and correct as to the introduction of this kind of fuel in those parts; for the use of it was not extended far till a late period; and even yet turf is neither employed nor known in many places which possess it, even though they are destitute of wood577. Some improvement in the manner of preparing turf may have also been considered as the invention of this fuel, which is undoubtedly of greater antiquity. What induced Monconys to ascribe the invention of turf to Erasmus, or who first propagated that error, I can as little conjecture as Misson578.
Scaliger has erred579 no less than Monconys, whose account was doubted by Uffenbach580. According to the first-mentioned author, turf had been used in the Netherlands only about three hundred years before his time, and he adds that he did not know that this kind of fuel had ever been mentioned by the ancients.
Those however are mistaken also who believe that it is to be found in the Salic laws and those of the Alemanni. It is true that the word turpha occurs in the former, and that Wendelin and others have declared it to mean turf; but the assertion of Eccard, that it signifies a village, called in German Dorf581, is more probable. Still less can the doubtful word curfodi, in the laws of the Alemanni, be supposed to allude to this substance, though we are assured by Lindenbrog that he found in a manuscript, in its stead, the term zurb582. It is also not credible that turf should be employed at that period, as wood was everywhere superabundant.
The oldest certain account of turf in the middle ages with which I am at present acquainted, is that pointed out by Trotz583, who says that it occurs in a letter of donation of the year 1113. He has given the words in the Dutch language, as if they had stood so in the original. But he has quoted his authority in so careless a manner, that I have not been able to conjecture what kind of book he meant. I have however found a Latin copy of the letter of donation in a work pointed out to me by Professor Reuss584. An abbot Ludolph, in the year 1113, permitted a nunnery near Utrecht to dig cespites for its own use in a part of his venæ, but at the same time he retained the property of these venæ. Now there can be no doubt that vena signifies a turf bog, and cespites turf. The former is the same word as Fenne or Venne, which occurs in the old Frisic and the present Veen585 of the Dutch. The nuns also could make no other use of the turf but employ it as fuel. This passage however proves nothing; though Trotz says that a great trade was carried on with turf in the twelfth century, and that the abbot wished to interdict the nuns from using it.
It is worthy of remark that the words turba, turbo, turbæ ad focum, turfa, occur for turf, in the years 1190, 1191, 1201 and 1210, as is proved by the instances quoted by Du Cange. Turbaria for a turf-moor is found in Matthew Paris, who died in 1259; Turbagium, in a diploma of Philip the Fair in the year 1308, signifies the right of digging turf, as turbare does to dig up turf. The word mor also is found in a document of the year 1246, quoted by Du Cange; who however has not introduced it into his dictionary586. It seems to be the same as mariscus and marescus. Brito, who lived about 1223, describing the productions of Flanders, says, “Arida gleba foco siccis incisa marescis587.” That the last of these words signifies a turf-bog is proved by a passage of Lambert, who lived at Ardres about the year 1200: “Quendam similiter mariscum, ut aiunt, proprium perfodi fecit, et in turbas dissecari.”
The assertion of Winsem and others, that the practice of digging turf first became common after the year 1215, is undoubtedly founded on information obtained from Sibrand Leo’s Vitæ Abbatum Horti Divæ Virginis seu Mariengard588; but this writer died in 1588, and can by no means be adduced as an evidence: he even says himself that turf-digging in 1212 was a new occupation.
The conjecture that the Netherlanders, who in the twelfth century established themselves as colonists in some districts of Germany, and particularly Lower Saxony, first made known there the preparation and use of this kind of fuel is improbable, or at any rate not proved589. It is improbable, because the Chauci, the oldest inhabitants of that country, burnt turf before that period.
It is related by the Icelanders that Einar, Count or Earl of Orkney or of the Orkney islands, discovered turf there, and on that account was named Torffeinar. He was the son of Raugnwauld, or Rognwald, earl of Mören, Sued and Nordmör in Norway, in the time of the celebrated Norwegian King Harold, commonly called Haarfager or Pulcricomus, on account of his beautiful hair590. He must have lived therefore in the middle of the ninth century; but on so trifling a subject I shall enter no further into the labyrinth of the Icelandic Saga.
In Sweden turf was first made known at a very modern period by some navigators in the district of Halland; and in the time of Charles XI. much trouble was taken to introduce it as fuel. In 1672 the town of Laholm obtained an exemption from duty for the turf dug up in the lands belonging to it.
In later times turf began to be burned to charcoal, sometimes in kilns, and sometimes in furnaces built for that purpose, by which this advantage is obtained, that it kindles sooner, burns with less air, and forms a more moderate and uniform fire without much smoke. This method of reducing turf to charcoal, which is still practised in some parts of Bohemia, Silesia, and Upper Saxony, was, it appears, proposed about the year 1669, by the well-known John Joachim Becher, who recommended at that time a method of depriving coals of their sulphur by burning them, and the use of naphtha or rock-oil procured from them by that process591. The burning of turf to coal seems to have been first made known in Germany by Hans Charles von Carlowitz, chamber-counsellor, and principal surveyor of the mines of the electorate of Saxony592. To save wood and promote the benefit of the mines he sought for turf; and having discovered it, he then endeavoured to find out some method of rendering it fit to be employed in the melting-houses, and this was the reducing to coal, which, as he himself says593, he first attempted in kilns at Scheibenberg, in the year 1708. At the Brocken the first experiments were made in 1744, with turf which had been dug up several years. This was announced by F. C. Brückman in 1745594, as a new invention; but an anonymous writer stated595 soon after, that this charring had been long used in the district of Hadeln, and that the smiths there employed no other kind of coals for their work.
[In 1842 a patent was taken out by Mr. Williams for compressing peat into a dense mass, resembling coals. It is said to be superior to coal in its properties of producing heat by combustion, forming an excellent charcoal or coke. It is asserted that this charcoal is much more combustible than that of wood, and very useful in the manufacture of fire-works. The process is as follows: – Immediately after being dug it is triturated under revolving edge-wheels faced with iron plates perforated all over the surface, and is forced by the pressure through these apertures, till it becomes a kind of pap, which is freed from the greater part of its moisture by a hydraulic press. It is then dried, and converted into coke in the same manner as pit-coal. The factitious coal of Mr. Williams is made by incorporating pitch or rosin, melted in a caldron with as much peat-charcoal ground to powder as will form a tough doughy mass, which is then moulded into bricks.]
That I might be able to investigate whether our artichoke was known to the ancients, I have not only collected a variety of scattered passages, compared them with one another and with nature, and laboured through a tedious multitude of contradictions and a confusion of names, but I have also been obliged to examine a load of groundless conjectures, heaped together by commentators596, in order that I might understand them and ascertain their value. By these means I have learned more than seems hitherto to have been known; and I have found that more is believed than can be proved; but that the fruits of my toil will give complete satisfaction to my readers, I do not pretend to hope. Before the botany, however, and the natural history in general of the ancients can be properly elucidated, before truth can be separated from falsehood, what is certain from what is uncertain, and things defined from those which are undefined, researches of this kind must be undertaken, and the same method as that which I have followed must be adopted.
The names of plants in ancient authors which have been applied to our artichoke, are the following: Cinara, Carduus, Scolymus, and Cactus.
The Cinara, which is originally a Greek word, belonged certainly to the thistle species; and the description of its top, as given by Columella597, seems, as has already been remarked by Nonnius598 and others, to agree perfectly with that of our artichoke. The cinara was commonly furnished with prickles, but that was preferred which had lost them by cultivation, and for which means were prescribed that did not produce the desired effect599. It was raised from seed sown in spring, but was propagated also from slips or shoots which in Italy were planted in autumn, that they might bear earlier the next summer600. The direction given to water these plants frequently, is still followed by our gardeners in respect to their artichokes, and they expect from this attention that the fruit will be more abundant and tender. By this method many give to their artichokes a superiority which others that have not been watered so carefully cannot attain. A complaint, which occurs in ancient authors, is also prevalent, that the roots are often destroyed by mice. I do not, however, find it remarked what part of the cinara was properly used, but it may be conjectured it was the top, because the tender fruit is praised601.
Carduus, among the Romans, was the common name of all plants of the thistle kind. It occurs among those of weeds602, and may be then properly translated by the word thistle. It, however, often signified an eatable thistle; and this has given Pliny occasion to make use of an insipid piece of raillery, when he says that luxury prepared as food for man what would not be eaten by cattle.
It is an old and common fault, that when the Greek and Roman authors have not given us such descriptions of natural objects as are sufficient to enable us to ascertain exactly what they are, we suppose that they have been known under different names, and a variety of characteristics are drawn together to enable us to determine them. What, for example, we find respecting the cinara is too little to give a just idea of the plant; we read somewhat more of the carduus; and because between these there seems to be an affinity, it is concluded that the cinara and the carduus were the same plant; and everything told us respecting both of them is thrown into one. Some even go further, and add what they find under a third or a fourth name. It is indeed true, that many natural objects have had several names, and the species may sometimes be rightly guessed; but conjecture ought never to be admitted unless the identity can be fully established; else one may form such a monstrous production as Horace has delineated, when he says,
Humano capiti cervicem pictor equinam
Jungere si velit, et varias inducere plumas,
Undique collatis membris —
I wish commentators would follow the example of our naturalists, who consider a plant as a distinct species until it has been proved on sure grounds that it is nothing else than a variety of a plant already characterized. I should not therefore affirm that the cinara and the carduus are the same, were I not able to produce the following incontestable proofs in support of my assertion.
In the first place, the Latins, Palladius and Pliny, give us the same account of the carduus that Columella and the Greeks do of the cinara. The former lost its prickles through cultivation603; its flowers were also of a purple colour604; it was propagated by seed and by shoots; it required frequent watering; and it was remarked that it throve better when the earth was mixed with ashes. Had not the carduus and the cinara been the same, Palladius and Pliny would have mentioned the latter; for we cannot suppose that they otherwise would have omitted a plant that formed a dish so much esteemed and so well-known among their countrymen. The latter claims to himself the merit of having passed over no one that was held in estimation. In the second place, Virgil has translated the word cynaros in a part of Sophocles now lost, by carduus605; thirdly, Athenæus says expressly, that the cinara was by the Latins named cardus and carduus606; and, lastly, the old glossaries explain cinara by carduus, as we are told by Salmasius. On these grounds, therefore, I am of opinion that the cinara and the carduus were the same.
We are informed by Apicius607 and Pliny608 in what manner the carduus was dressed by the ancient cooks. The latter gives directions for pickling it in vinegar; but neither of them tells us what part of it was eaten. Lister thinks that Apicius speaks of the tops of the young shoots, which, as far as I know, are parts of the artichoke never eaten at present. It is, however, worthy of remark, that the tops (turiones) of certain kinds of the thistle family of plants, and among these the common burr609, are in some countries dressed and eaten like asparagus. It is not improbable also that Pliny and Apicius may have meant the ribs of the leaves; though none of the ancients has taught us the art of binding up, covering with earth, and blanching the cinara or carduus. This, perhaps, was a new invention of the gardeners; and the cooks may have had other methods of rendering the ribs of the leaves tender and eatable. Had they meant the bottom of the calyx, they would not have omitted to give a circumstantial account of the preparation previous to its being pickled.
The Scolymus is by Pliny and Theophrastus reckoned to belong to the genus of the thistles. The former says, that, like most others of the same kind, the seeds were covered by a sort of wool (pappus). It had a high stem, surrounded with leaves, which were prickly, but which ceased to sting when the plant withered610. It flowered the whole summer through, and had often flowers and ripe seed at the same time; which is the case also with our artichoke plants. The calyx of the scolymus was not prickly611; the root was thick, black and sweet, and contained a milky juice. It was eaten both raw and cooked; and Theophrastus observes, as something very remarkable, that when the plant was in flower, or, as others explain the words, when it had finished blowing, it was most palatable. What renders this circumstance singular is, that most milky roots used for food lose their milk and become unfit to be eaten as soon as they have blown. This is the case with the goat’s beard, which is eatable only the first year.
The scolymus however is not the only plant which forms an exception; for the garden Scorzonera retains its milk, and continues eatable after it has bloomed, and as long as it has milk it may be used. According to Theophrastus and Pliny, the roots of the scolymus are eatable. On the other hand, Dioscorides says that the roots were not eaten, but the young leaves only: as he informs us, however, that they were dressed like asparagus, it would appear that he meant the young shoots612. Theophrastus expressly tells us, that, besides the roots, the flowers also were used as food; and he calls that which was eatable the pulpy part. We have, therefore, full proof that the ancients ate the tops of some plants in the same manner as we eat our artichokes.
It may however be asked, what kind of a plant was the scolymus? That it was different from the cinara is undoubtedly certain; for Dioscorides613 expressly distinguishes them; nor was it the eatable carduus, for Pliny compares it with the carduus, and says that it was characterized from the latter by having roots fit to be eaten. Stapel is of opinion that the scolymus is our artichoke; but this seems to me improbable, for the leaves and roots of the latter are not sweet, but harsh and bitter, and the calyx is prickly, which was not the case in the scolymus of Theophrastus. Besides, I find nothing in the whole description of the scolymus or in the accounts given us by the ancients of the cinara and carduus, that can be applied to our artichoke alone, and not to any other plant. It may be here replied, that it would be very difficult to ascertain plants from the names of the ancients, were such strong proofs required, because they had not the art of separating the different genera correctly, and of assigning to each certain characterizing marks. This I allow; and for that reason it is impossible to elucidate properly the Greek and Latin names of plants; but, in my opinion, it is better to confess this impossibility, than to deceive oneself with distant probabilities. Let the genus be ascertained when one cannot ascertain the species; let the order to which the plant belongs be determined when one cannot determine the genus; or, at least, let the class be assigned when there is sufficient authority to do so. The cinara, carduus and scolymus were therefore species of the thistle, of which the roots and young shoots, and also the bottom of the calyx of the last, were eaten. Were I appointed or condemned to form a new Latin dictionary, I should explain the article Scolymus in the following manner: – Planta composita, capitata. Caulis longus, obsitus foliis spinosis. Radix carnosa, lactescens, nigra, dulcis, edulis. Calyx squamis inermibus, disco carnoso, ante efflorescentiam eduli. Semina papposa. Turiones edules. This description, short as it is, contains every thing that the ancients have said in order to characterize that plant. It can, indeed, be understood only by those who are acquainted with the terms of botany; but what follows will require no explanation or defining of botanical names.
Should it be said that the scolymus must be our artichoke because no other plant of the thistle kind is known the bottom of the calyx of which is eatable, I would in answer observe: – First, other species may have been known in ancient times, which perhaps have been disused and forgotten since the more pleasant and delicious artichoke became known. It is certain that many old plants have in this manner been banished from our gardens by the introduction of new ones. Thus have common alexanders (Smyrnium olusatrum) fallen into neglect since celery was made known by the Italians, about the end of the seventeenth century; and so at present has the cultivation of winter-cresses (Erysimum barbarea), bulbous-rooted chærophyllum (Chærophyllum bulbosum), rocket (Brassica eruca), and others, been abandoned since better vegetables have been obtained to supply their place. Secondly, it is certain that, even at present, the bottom of the calyx of some others of the thistle-kind, besides the genus of the artichoke, is eaten; such as the cotton-thistle (Onopordum acanthium), and the carline thistle (Carlina acaulis), without mentioning the sun-flowers which has been brought to us in modern times from South America.
Without engaging to examine all the hypotheses of commentators and ancient botanists on this subject, I shall take notice of one conjecture, which, upon mature consideration, appears to have some probability. Clusius614 is of opinion that the plant called by the botanists of the seventeenth century Carduus chrysanthemus, and by those of the present age Scolymus hispanicus, the golden thistle, is the scolymus of Theophrastus; because its leaves, beset with white prickles, and its pulpy, sweet, milky roots are eaten, and excel in taste all roots whatever, even those of skirret; and because it was collected and sold in Spain, Italy, and Greece. But what has principally attracted my attention to this conjecture, is the account of Bellon615, that this plant in Crete or Candia is called still by the Greeks there ascolymbros. This name seems to have arisen from scolymos; and besides Stapel616 found in an old glossary the word ascolymbros. I am likewise convinced that, as Tournefort617 has said, the botany of the ancients would be much illustrated and rendered more certain, were the names used by the modern Greeks known. It is certain that many old names have been preserved till the present time with little variation; but nevertheless I can as little admit the assertion of Clusius as that of Stapel; for Scolymus hispanicus has neither the bottom of the calyx pulpy, nor wool adhering to the seeds, like the scolymus of Theophrastus; and the young roots only can be eaten, because, like those of most plants of the genus of the thistle, they lose their milk when the flower is in bloom; lastly, the leaves retain their power of pricking, even after they have become withered.
The fourth name which, with any kind of probability, has been translated by the word artichoke is cactus. This plant, which, in the time of Theophrastus and Pliny, grew only in Sicily and not in Greece, had broad prickly leaves618; the flower was filled with a kind of wool, which, when eaten inadvertently, was pernicious619; the calyx was prickly: and, besides a long stem, it shot forth branches which crept along the ground620, and which, when the outer rind had been peeled off, were eaten either fresh, or pickled in salt water621. The bottom of the calyx of this plant was likewise used, after it had been freed from its seeds and woolly substance622. It had a great resemblance to the pith of the palm-tree623.
That the cactus was different from the scolymus we are expressly told by Theophrastus; and Pliny also distinguishes them both from each other and from the carduus. Athenæus624 is the only author who says that the cactus and the cinara were the same; but he gives no other proof than a very simple etymology. It must therefore be admitted that the cactus was a species of the thistle kind entirely different from any of the former.
I think I have proved, therefore, that the Greeks and the Romans used the pulpy bottom of the calyx, and the most tender stalks and young shoots of some plants reckoned to belong to the thistle kind, in the same manner as we use artichokes and cardoons; and that the latter were unknown to them. It appears to me probable that the use of these plants, at least in Italy and Europe in general, was in the course of time laid aside and forgotten, and that the artichoke, when it was first brought to Italy from the Levant, was considered as a new species of food. It is undoubtedly certain that our artichoke was first known in that country in the fifteenth century. Hermolaus Barbarus, who died in 1494, relates that this plant was first seen at Venice in a garden in 1473, at which time it was very scarce625. About the year 1466, one of the family of Strozzi brought the first artichokes to Florence from Naples626. Politian, in a letter in which he describes the dishes he found at a grand entertainment in Italy in 1488, among these mentions artichokes627. They were introduced into France in the beginning of the sixteenth century628; and into England in the reign of Henry the Eighth629.
Respecting the origin of the name various conjectures have been formed, none of which, in my opinion, are founded even on probability. Hermolaus Barbarus, Henry Stephen, Ruellius, Heresbach, and others think that artichoke or artichaut, as it is called by the French, and arciocco by the Italians, is derived from the Greek word coccalus, which signifies a fircone, with the Arabic article al prefixed, from which was formed alcocalon, and afterwards the name now used630. This etymology is contradicted by Salmasius631, who denies that coccalus had ever that signification. He remarks also that artichokes were by the Arabs called harsaf, harxaf, or harchiaf; and he seems not disinclined to derive the name from these appellations632. Grotius, Bodæus, and some others, derive it from a Greek word633, which occurs in Alexander Trallianus, and which is supposed to signify our plant; but that word is to be found in this author alone, and in him only once; so that the idea of these critics appears to me very improbable. Frisch affirms, in his dictionary, that our modern name is formed from carduus and scolymus united. Ihre634 considers the first part of the name as the German word erde (the earth), because it is often pronounced erdschoke; but I rather think that the Germans changed the foreign word arti into the word erde, which was known to them, in the same manner as of tartuffolo we have made erdtoffeln635; besides, Ihre leaves the latter part unexplained636. In the seventeenth century the plant was often called Welsch distel (Italian thistle), because the seeds were procured from Italy, and also Strobeldorn, a word undoubtedly derived from strobilus.
Were the original country of the artichoke really known, the etymology of the name, perhaps, might be easily explained. Linnæus says that it grew wild in Narbonne, Italy, and Sicily, and the cardoons in Crete; but, in my opinion, the information respecting the latter has been taken only from the above-quoted passage of Bellon, which is improperly supposed to allude to the artichoke. As far as I know, it was not found upon that island either by Tournefort or any other traveller. Garidel, however, mentions the artichoke under the name given it by Bauhin, cinara sylvestris latifolia, among the plants growing wild in Provence; but later authors assure us that they sought for it there in vain637. I shall here remark that the artichoke is certainly known in Persia; but Tavernier says expressly that it was carried thither, like asparagus, and other European vegetables of the kitchen-garden, by the Carmelite and other monks; and that it was only in later times that it became common638.