Monkshood
Aconitum napellus.
IT may be well at times to figure and describe familiar flowers that should be rendered unfamiliar. The truly handsome and very individual monkshood of the cottage garden is of so poisonous a nature, and has actually killed so many good people, that we should be wanting in duty to our readers did we not advise the rooting out of this grand herbaceous plant, and its consignment to the rubbish-heap as a plant that will surely offend if it obtains the opportunity. We distinctly remember several instances of poisoning by the substitution of its fleshy roots for horse-radish. We confess we "don't know how" any one who has ever tasted horse-radish could eat the root of this dangerous plant in place of it, however nicely it might be scraped and dished; but the fact remains and the warning follows. As the most excellent apricot jam may be made from carrots, and the Jerusalem artichoke, which is like a potato, is by many regarded as in no way differing from the globe artichoke, which is a fleshy flower of a kind of thistle, we must not be in haste to blame people who scrape the roots of monkshood and supply the scrapings to be eaten with beef as horse-radish; but we must indulge the hope that knowledge will prevail, and speedily render such a dangerous substitution impossible. It is somewhat singular that the older botanists are apparently in a fog with this common and characteristic plant. Mr. John Gerarde lumps it in with a lot of larkspurs, that are certainly related, but more or less far removed. His "munkeshood" is a delphinium possessed of several virtues, such as being good against the stings of scorpions, and "so forcible that the herb only thrown before the scorpion, or any other venomous beast, causeth them to be without force or strength to hurt, insomuch that they cannot mooue or stirre vntill the herbe be taken away." To Master Gerarde's honour we are bound to quote further that in his opinion we should hold in contempt this "with many other such trifling toies not woorth the reading."
John Parkinson figures this plant fairly well, and describes it with the most delightful minuteness of his "Paradisus." He adds that the "fair blew colour" of the flowers "causeth it to be nourished upon gardens, that their flowers, as was usual in former times, may be laid up among green herbes in windowes and roomes for the summer time; but although their beauty may be entertained for the uses aforesaid, yet beware they come not near your tongue or lips, lest they tell you to your cost, they are not so good as they seem to be." It is amusing to note how these grand old masters, who produced such books as we, degenerate triflers, dare not even think of because of the years of work and the thousands of pounds we should have to expend upon them --it is amusing to note how they struggled against superstition with the right hand, and occasionally opened the door for it to enter with the left. There is a charming winter-flowering aconite that should be grown in every garden; its flowers are pale yellow, and it is known as Eranthis hyemalis, Parkinson's name being Aconitum hyemale. This is the "counter-poison monkeshood," the roots of which "are effectual not only against the poison of the poisonful helmet flower, and all others of that kind, but also against the poison of all venomous beasts, the plague or pestilence, and other infectious diseases, which raise spots, pockes, or markes in the outward skin, by expelling the poison from within, and defending the heart as a most sovereign cordial." Apart from the consideration of its possible and actual mischievousness, the monkshood is a noble border flower. It grows to a height of three to four feet, the upper half of the strong stems being closely beset with hooded flowers of a fine dark blue colour, elegantly accompanied with leaves that are deeply and distinctly cut into narrow-pointed segments. Its name, Aconitum napellus, is derived from Aconoe,(Theophrastus so derives it, from'Akova, but Ovid derives it from 'akovn, as growing on sharp steep rocks. But as all the species require some depth of good soil, the reference of Ovid must be to some other plant.) the supposed place of its origin, and napus, a turnip, from the likeness of its roots to the long white turnips that were formerly grown, but are now but rarely seen in this country. Amongst the allied plants that are worth a place in the herbaceous border, and more particularly in the front of the shrubbery border, the following deserve special mention, as they are handsome and by no means likely to prove hurtful to life, as the common monkshood always is :--Aconitum autumnale, height three feet, flowers pale blue; A. japonicum, like the last, but of a fuller blue; A. chinense, height five feet or more, flowers brilliant blue--a splendid plant, requires a dry, warm border, and shelter; A. lycoctonum, height four feet, flowers creamy yellow; A. variegatum, height four feet, flowers blue and white, a fine plant. All these thrive in common garden soil. Those who have peat soil may add to the list A. paniculatum and A. septentrionale; the first has flowers blue and white, the second reddish lavender.
