Ingredients: Elecampane

“Elecampane,” writes William Coles, “is one of the plants whereof England may boast as much as any, for there grows none better in the world than in England, let apothecaries and druggists say what they will.” It is a tall, stout, downy plant, from three to five feet high, of the Composite order, with broad leaves, and bright, yellow flowers. Campania is the original source of the plant (Enula campana), which is called also Elf-wort, and Elf-dock. Its botanical title is Helenium inula, to commemorate Helen of Troy, from whose tears the herb was thought to have sprung, or whose hands were full of the leaves when Paris carried her off from Menelaus. This title has become corrupted in some districts to Horse-heal, or Horse-hele, or Horse-heel, through a double blunder, the word inula being misunderstood for hinnula, a colt; and the term Hellenium being thought to have something to do with healing, or heels; and solely on this account the Elecampane has been employed by farriers to cure horses of scabs and sore heels. Though found wild only seldom, and as a local production in our copses and meadows, it is cultivated in our gardens as a medicinal and culinary herb. The name inula is only a corruption of the Greek elenium; and the herb is of ancient repute, having been described by Dioscorides. An old Latin distich thus celebrates its virtues: Enula campana reddit proecordia sana — “Elecampane will the spirits sustain.” “Julia Augusta,” said Pliny, “let no day pass without eating some of the roots of Enula condired, to help digestion, and cause mirth.”

The inula was noticed by Horace, Satire viii., 51:–

“Erucos virides inulas ego primus amaras
Monstravi incoquere.”

Also the Enula campana has been identified with the herb Moly (of Homer), “apo tou moleuein, from its mitigating pain.”

Prior to the Norman Conquest, and during the Middle Ages, the root of Elecampane was much employed in Great Britain as a medicine; and likewise it was candied and eaten as a sweetmeat. Some fifty years ago the candy was sold commonly in London, as flat, round cakes, being composed largely of sugar, and coloured with cochineal. A piece was eaten each night and morning for asthmatical complaints, whilst it was customary when travelling by a river to suck a bit of the root against poisonous exhalations and bad air. The candy may be still had from our confectioners, but now containing no more of the plant Elecampane than there is of barley in barley sugar.

Gerard says: “The flowers of this herb are in all their bravery during June and July; the roots should be gathered in the autumn. The plant is good for an old cough, and for such as cannot breathe freely unless they hold their necks upright; also it is of great value when given in a loch, which is a medicine to be licked on. It voids out thick clammy humors, which stick in the chest and lungs.” Galen says further: “It is good for passions of the huckle-bones, called sciatica.” The root is thick and substantial, having, when sliced, a fragrant aromatic odour.

Chemically, it contains a crystalline principle, resembling camphor, and called “helenin”; also a starch, named “inulin,” which is peculiar as not being soluble in water, alcohol, or ether; and conjointly a volatile oil, a resin, albumen, and acetic acid. Inulin is allied to starch, and its crystallized camphor is separable into true helenin, and alantin camphor. The former is a powerful antiseptic to arrest putrefaction. In Spain it is much used as a surgical dressing, and is said to be more destructive than any other agent to the bacillus of cholera. Helenin is very useful in ulceration within the nose (ozoena), and in chronic bronchitis to lessen the expectoration. The dose is from a third of a grain to two grains.

Furthermore, Elecampane counteracts the acidity of gouty indigestion, and regulates the monthly illnesses of women. The French use it in the distillation of absinthe, and term it l’aulnee, d’un lieu planté d’aulnes ou elle se plait. To make a decoction, half-an-ounce of the root should be gently boiled for ten minutes in a pint of water, and then allowed to cool. From one to two ounces of this may be taken three times in the day. Of the powdered root, from half to one teaspoonful may be given for a dose.

A medicinal tincture (H.) is prepared from the root, of which thirty or forty drops may be taken for a dose, with two tablespoonfuls of cold water; but too large a dose will induce sickness. Elecampane is specifically curative of a sharp pain affecting the right elbow joint, and recurring daily; also of a congestive headache coming on through costiveness of the lowest bowel. Moreover, at the present time, when there is so much talk about the inoculative treatment of pulmonary consumption by the cultivated virus of its special microbe, it is highly interesting to know that the helenin of Elecampane is said to be peculiarly destructive to the bacillus of tubercular disease.

In classic times the poet Horace told how Fundanius first taught the making of a delicate sauce, by boiling in it the bitter Inula (Elecampane); and how the Roman stomach, when surfeited with an excess of rich viands, pined for turnips, and the appetising Enulas acidas from frugal Campania:–

“Quum rapula plenus
Atque acidas mavult inulas.”

Source: Herbal Simples Approved for Modern Uses of Cure, William Thomas Fernie

Ingredients: Betony

Few, if any, herbal plants have been more praised for their supposed curative virtues than the Wood Betony (Stachys Betonica), belonging to the order of Labiates. By the common people it is often called Bitny. The name Betonica is from the Celtic “ben,” head, and “tonic,” good, in allusion to the usefulness of the herb against infirmities of the head. It is of frequent growth in shady woods and meadows, having aromatic leaves, and spikes (stakoi) of light purple flowers. Formerly it was held in the very highest esteem as a leading herbal simple. The Greeks loudly extolled its good qualities. Pliny, in downright raptures, styled it ante cunctas laudatissima! An old Italian proverb ran thus: Vende la tunica en compra la Betonia, “Sell your coat, and buy Betony;” whilst modern Italians, when speaking of a most excellent man, say, “He has as many virtues as Betony”–He piu virtù che Bettonica.

In the Medicina Britannica, 1666, we read: “I have known the most obstinate headaches cured by daily breakfasting for a month or six weeks on a decoction of Betony, made with new milk, and strained.”

Antonius Musa, chief physician to the Emperor Augustus, wrote a book entirely on the virtues of this herb. Meyrick says, inveterate headaches after resisting every other remedy, have been cured by taking daily at breakfast a decoction made from the leaves and tops of the Wood Betony. Culpeper wrote: “This is a precious herb well worth keeping in your house.” Gerard tells that “Betony maketh a man have a good appetite to his meat, and is commended against ache of the knuckle bones” (sciatica).

A pinch of the powdered herb will provoke violent sneezing. The dried leaves formed an ingredient in Rowley’s British Herb Snuff, which was at one time quite famous against headaches.

And yet, notwithstanding all this concensus of praise from writers of different epochs, it does not appear that the Betony, under chemical analysis and research, shows itself as containing any special medicinal or curative constituents. It only affords the fragrant aromatic principles common to most of the labiate plants.

Parkinson, who enlarged the Herbal of Gerard, pronounced the leaves and flowers of Wood Betony, “by their sweet and spicy taste, comfortable both in meate and medicine.” Anyhow, Betony tea, made with boiling water poured on the plant, is a safe drink, and likely to prove of benefit against languid nervous headaches; and the dried herb may be smoked as tobacco for relieving the same ailment. To make Betony tea, put two ounces of the herb to a quart of water over the fire, and let this gradually simmer to three half-pints. Give a wine-glassful of the decoction three times a day. A conserve may be made from the flowers for similar purposes. The Poet Laureate, A. Austin, mentions “lye of Betony to soothe the brow.” Both this plant, and the Water Betony — so called from its similarity of leaf — bear the name of Kernel-wort, from having tubers or kernels attached to the roots, and from being therefore supposed, on the doctrine of signatures, to cure diseased kernels or scrofulous glands in the neck; also to banish piles from the fundament.

But the Water Betony (Figwort) belongs not to the labiates, but to the Scrophulariaceoe, or scrofula-curing order of plants. It is called in some counties “brown-wort,” and in Yorkshire “bishopsleaves,” or, l’herbe du siège, which term has a double meaning — in allusion both to the seat in the temple of Cloacina (W.C.) and to the ailments of the lower body in connection therewith, as well as to the more exalted “See” of a Right Reverend Prelate. In old times the Water figwort was famous as a vulnerary, both when used externally, and when taken in decoction. The name “brown-wort” has been got either from the brown colour of the stems and flowers, or, more probably, from its growing abundantly about the “brunnen,” or public German fountains. Wasps and bees are fond of the flowers. In former days this herb was relied on for the cure of toothache, and for expelling the particular disembodied spirit, or “mare,” which visited our Saxon ancestors during their sleep after supper, being familiarly known to them as the “nightmare.” The “Echo” was in like manner thought by the Saxons to be due to a spectre, or mare, which they called the “wood mare.” The Water Betony is said to make one of the ingredients in Count Mattaei’s noted remedy, “anti-scrofuloso.” The Figwort is named in Somersetshire “crowdy-kit” (the word kit meaning a fiddle), “or fiddlewood,” because if two of the stalks are rubbed together, they make a noise like the scraping of the bow on violin strings. In Devonshire, also, the plant is known as “fiddler.”

An allied Figwort — which is botanically called nodosa, or knotted — is considered, when an ointment is made with it, using the whole plant bruised and treated with unsalted lard, a sovereign remedy against “burnt holes” or gangrenous chicken-pox, such as often attacks the Irish peasantry, who subsist on a meagre and exclusively vegetable diet, being half starved, and pent up in wretched foul hovels. This herb is said to be certainly curative of hydrophobia, by taking every morning whilst fasting a slice of bread and butter on which the powdered knots of the roots have been spread, following it up with two tumblers of fresh spring water. Then let the patient be well clad in woollen garments and made to take a long fast walk until in a profuse perspiration. The treatment should be continued for nine days. Again, the botanical name of a fig, ficus, has been commonly applied to a sore or scab appearing on a part of the body where hair is, or to a red sore in the fundament, i.e., to a pile. And the Figwort is so named in allusion to its curative virtues against piles, when the plant is made into an ointment for outward use, and when the tincture is taken internally. It is specially visited by wasps.

Source: Herbal Simples Approved for Modern Uses of Cure, William Thomas Fernie

Ingredients: Buttercup

The most common Buttercup of our fields (Ranunculus bulbosis) needs no detailed description. It belongs to the order termed Ranunculaceoe, so-called from the Latin rana, a frog, because the several varieties of this genus grow in moist places where frogs abound. Under the general name of Buttercups are included the creeping Ranunculus, of moist meadows; the Ranunculus acris, Hunger Weed, or Meadow Crowfoot, so named from the shape of the leaf (each of these two being also called King Cup), and the Ranunculus bulbosus mentioned above. “King-Cob” signifies a resemblance between the unexpanded flowerbud and a stud of gold, such as a king would wear; so likewise the folded calyx is named Goldcup, Goldknob and Cuckoobud. The term Buttercup has become conferred through a mistaken notion that this flower gives butter a yellow colour through the cows feeding on it (which is not the case), or, perhaps, from the polished, oily surface of the petals. The designation really signifies “button cop,” or bouton d’or; “the batchelor’s button”; this terminal syllable, cup, being corrupted from the old English word “cop,” a head. It really means “button head.” The Buttercup generally is known in Wiltshire and the adjoining counties as Crazy, or Crazies, being reckoned by some as an insane plant calculated to produce madness; or as a corruption of Christseye (which was the medieval name of the Marigold).

A burning acridity of taste is the common characteristic of the several varieties of the Buttercup. In its fresh state the ordinary field Buttercup is so acrimonious that by merely pulling up the plant by its root, and carrying it some little distance in the hand, the palm becomes reddened and inflamed. Cows will not eat it unless very hungry, and then the mouth of the animal becomes sore and blistered. The leaves of the Buttercup, when bruised and applied to the skin, produce a blistering of the outer cuticle, with a discharge of a watery fluid, and with heat, redness, and swelling. If these leaves are masticated in the mouth they will induce pains like a stitch between the ribs at the side, with the sharp catchings of neuralgic rheumatism. A medicinal tincture is made (H.) from the bulbous Buttercup with spirit of wine, which will, as a similar, cure shingles very expeditiously, both the outbreak of small watery pimples clustered together at the side, and the accompanying sharp pains between the ribs. Also this tincture will promptly relieve neuralgic side-ache, and pleurisy which is of a passive sort. From six to eight drops of the tincture may be taken with a tablespoonful of cold water by an adult three or four times a day for either of the aforesaid purposes. In France, this plant is called “jaunet.” Buttercups are most probably the “Cuckoo Buds” immortalised by Shakespeare. The fresh leaves of the Crowfoot (Ranunculus acris) formed a part of the famous cancer cure of Mr. Plunkett in 1794. This cure comprised Crowfoot leaves, freshly gathered, and dog’s-foot fennel leaves, of each an ounce, with one drachm of white arsenic levigated, and with five scruples of flowers of sulphur, all beaten together into a paste, and dried by the sun in balls, which were then powdered, and, being mixed with yolk of egg, were applied on pieces of pig’s bladder. The juice of the common Buttercup (Bulbosus), known sometimes as “St. Anthony’s Turnip,” if applied to the nostrils, will provoke sneezing, and will relieve passive headache in this way. The leaves have been applied as a blister to the wrists in rheumatism, and when infused in boiling water as a poultice over the pit of the stomach as a counter-irritant. For sciatica the tincture of the bulbous buttercup has proved very helpful.

The Ranunculus flammata, Spearwort, has been used to produce a slight blistering effect by being put under a limpet shell against the skin of the part to be relieved, until some smarting and burning have been sensibly produced, with incipient vesication of the outermost skin.

The Ranunculus Sceleratus, Marsh Crowfoot, or Celery-leaved Buttercup, called in France “herbe sardonique,” and “grenouillette d’eau,” when made into a tincture (H.) with spirit of wine, and given in small diluted doses, proves curative of stitch in the side, and of neuralgic pains between the ribs, likewise of pleurisy without feverishness. The dose should be five drops of the third decimal tincture with a spoonful of water every three or four hours. This plant grows commonly at the sides of our pools, and in wet ditches, bearing numerous small yellow flowers, with petals scarcely longer than the calyx.

Source: Herbal Simples Approved for Modern Uses of Cure, William Thomas Fernie

Marigold flowers distilled, good for the pain of the Head

Take Marigold flowers, and distill them, then take a fine cloth and wet in the aforesaid distilled water, and so lay it to the forehead of the Patient, and being so applied, let him sleep if he can; this with God’s help will cease the pain.

Source: A Queen’s Delight: Or, The Art of Preserving, Conserving and Candying, Nathaniel Brooke

Ingredients: Basil

The herb Sweet Basil (Ocymum Basilicum) is so called because “the smell thereof is fit for a king’s house.” It grows commonly in our kitchen gardens, but in England it dies down every year, and the seeds have to be sown annually. Botanically, it is named “basilicon,” or royal, probably because used of old in some regal unguent, or bath, or medicine.

This, and the wild Basil, belong to the Labiate order of plants. The leaves of the Sweet Basil, when slightly bruised, exhale a delightful odour; they gave the distinctive flavour to the original Fetter-Lane sausages.

The Wild Basil (Calamintha clinopodium) or Basil thyme, or Horse thyme, is a hairy plant growing in bushy places, also about hedges and roadsides, and bearing whorls of purple flowers with a strong odour of cloves. The term Clinopodium signifies “bed’s-foot flower,” because “the branches dooe resemble the foot of a bed.” In common with the other labiates, Basil, both the wild and the sweet, furnishes an aromatic volatile camphoraceous oil. On this account it is much employed in France for flavouring soups (especially mock turtle) and sauces; and the dry leaves, in the form of snuff, are used for relieving nervous headaches. A tea, made by pouring boiling water on the garden basil, when green, gently but effectually helps on the retarded monthly flow with women. The Bush Basil is Ocymum minimum, of which the leafy tops are used for seasoning, and in salads.

The Sweet Basil has been immortalised by Keats in his tender, pathetic poem of Isabella and the Pot of Basil, founded on a story from Boccaccio. She reverently possessed herself of the decapitated head of her lover, Lorenzo, who had been treacherously slain:–

“She wrapped it up, and for its tomb did choose
A garden pot, wherein she laid it by,
And covered it with mould, and o’er it set
Sweet Basil, which her tears kept ever wet.”

The herb was used at funerals in Persia. Its seeds were sown by the Romans with maledictions and curses through the belief that the more it was abused the better it would prosper. When desiring a good crop they trod it down with their feet, and prayed the gods it might not vegetate. The Greeks likewise supposed Basil to thrive best when sown with swearing; and this fact explains the French saying, Semer la Basilic, as signifying “to slander.” It was told in Elizabeth’s time that the hand of a fair lady made Basil flourish; and this was then planted in pots as an act of gallantry. “Basil,” says John Evelyn, “imparts a grateful flavour to sallets if not too strong, but is somewhat offensive to the eyes.” Shenstone, in his School Mistress’s Garden, tells of “the tufted Basil,” and Culpeper quaintly says: “Something is the matter; Basil and Rue will never grow together: no, nor near one another.” It is related that a certain advocate of Genoa was once sent as an ambassador to treat for conditions with the Duke of Milan; but the Duke harshly refused to hear the message, or to grant the conditions. Then the Ambassador offered him a handful of Basil. Demanding what this meant, the Duke was told that the properties of the herb were, if gently handled, to give out a pleasant odour; but that, if bruised, and hardly wrung, it would breed scorpions. Moved by this witty answer, the Duke confirmed the conditions, and sent the Ambassador honourably home.

Source: Herbal Simples Approved for Modern Uses of Cure, William Thomas Fernie

News: Remember days of home remedies?

“Modern medicine could be spelled m-i-r-a-c-l-e, and I wouldn’t object. It seems that even as more and more unbelievable strides are made, the gains come even faster and faster.

I still marvel at the progress of medicine even in my lifetime. When I was a kid, medicine had not stumbled much beyond home remedies, some of which worked, and some didn’t.”

Full story: Beaumont Journal, 13th February 2008

Ingredients: Balm

The herb Balm, or Melissa, which is cultivated quite commonly in our cottage gardens, has its origin in the wild, or bastard Balm, growing in our woods, especially in the South of England, and bearing the name of “Mellitis.” Each is a labiate plant, and “Bawme,” say the Arabians, “makes the heart merry and joyful.” The title, “Balm,” is an abbreviation of Balsam, which signifies “the chief of sweet-smelling oils;” Hebrew, Bal smin, “chief of oils”; and the botanical suffix, Melissa, bears reference to the large quantity of honey (mel) contained in the flowers of this herb.

When cultivated, it yields from its leaves and tops an essential oil which includes a chemical principle, or “stearopten.” “The juice of Balm,” as Gerard tells us, “glueth together greene wounds,” and the leaves, say both Pliny and Dioscorides, “being applied, do close up woundes without any perill of inflammation.” It is now known as a scientific fact that the balsamic oils of aromatic plants make most excellent surgical dressings. They give off ozone, and thus exercise anti-putrescent effects. Moreover, as chemical “hydrocarbons,” they contain so little oxygen, that in wounds dressed with the fixed balsamic herbal oils, the atomic germs of disease are starved out. Furthermore, the resinous parts of these balsamic oils, as they dry upon the sore or wound, seal it up, and effectually exclude all noxious air. So the essential oils of balm, peppermint, lavender, and the like, with pine oil, resin of turpentine, and the balsam of benzoin (Friars’ Balsam) should serve admirably for ready application on lint or fine rag to cuts and superficial sores. In domestic surgery, the lamentation of Jeremiah falls to the ground: “Is there no balm in Gilead: is there no physician there?” Concerning which “balm of Gilead,” it may be here told that it was formerly of great esteem in the East as a medicine, and as a fragrant unguent. It was the true balsam of Judea, which at one time grew nowhere else in the whole world but at Jericho. But when the Turks took the Holy Land, they transplanted this balsam to Grand Cairo, and guarded its shrubs most jealously by Janissaries during the time the balsam was flowing.

In the “Treacle Bible,” 1584, Jeremiah viii., v. 22, this passage is rendered: “Is there not treacle at Gylead?” Venice treacle, or triacle, was a famous antidote in the middle ages to all animal poisons. It was named Theriaca (the Latin word for our present treacle) from the Greek word Therion, a small animal, in allusion to the vipers which were added to the triacle by Andromachus, physician to the emperor Nero.

Tea made of our garden balm, by virtue of the volatile oil, will prove restorative, and will promote perspiration if taken hot on the access of a cold or of influenza; also, if used in like manner, it will help effectively to bring on the delayed monthly flow with women. But an infusion of the plant made with cold water, acts better as a remedy for hysterical headache, and as a general nervine stimulant because the volatile aromatic virtues are not dispelled by heat. Formerly, a spirit of balm, combined with lemon peel, nutmeg, and angelica-root, enjoyed a great reputation as a restorative cordial under the name of Carmelite water. Paracelsus thought so highly of balm that he believed it would completely revivify a man, as primum ens melissoe. The London Dispensatory of 1696 said: “The essence of balm given in Canary wine every morning will renew youth, strengthen the brain, relieve languishing nature, and prevent baldness.” “Balm,” adds John Evelyn, “is sovereign for the brain, strengthening the memory, and powerfully chasing away melancholy.” In France, women bruise the young shoots of balm, and make them into cakes, with eggs, sugar, and rose water, which they give to mothers in childbed as a strengthener.

It is fabled that the Jew Ahasuerus (who refused a cup of water to our Saviour on His way to Golgotha, and was therefore doomed to wander athirst until Christ should come again) on a Whitsuntide evening, asked for a draught of small beer at the door of a Staffordshire cottager who was far advanced in consumption. He got the drink, and out of gratitude advised the sick man to gather in the garden three leaves of Balm, and to put them into a cup of beer. This was to be repeated every fourth day for twelve days, the refilling of the cup to be continued as often as might be wished; then “the disease shall be cured and thy body altered.” So saying, the Jew departed and was never seen there again. But the cottager obeyed the injunction, and at the end of the twelve days had become a sound man.

Source: Herbal Simples Approved for Modern Uses of Cure, William Thomas Fernie

News: Crazy or Brilliant? Home Remedies for Pain

“Right now — in bathrooms, bedrooms or at the kitchen sink — people across the world are trying rather unusual home remedies to cure their pain.

In Mexico, some people rub potato halves on their foreheads for headaches. In Central America, blowing cigar smoke on a sufferer’s back is believed to bring them pain relief. And in the United States, rubbing cobwebs into cuts is believed to stop bleeding and pain.”

Full story: ABC News, 29th January 2008

Headaches in Childhood

Headaches in childhood should always be looked upon as a matter for serious inquiry and care; for they may be excited by very many causes. Even the headaches of children are divided into various classes; thus there is the school headache, the headache which is peculiar to periods of rapid growth, the headache which is caused by bloodlessness and nervous exhaustion, and that which is peculiar to any strain. The exciting causes are generally excessive fatigue, exhaustion of mind or nerve, digestive disorder, changes in the weather, badly heated and ill-ventilated rooms, want of exercise, poverty of the blood, or disorder of the blood by various impurities developed in the system, over-work, excitement, undue exposure to heat or cold, colds in the nose and back of the throat, or decayed teeth.

Headaches caused by bloodlessness should give rise to careful investigation of the diet, and lead one as a rule to decide that plenty of blood-making food, such as meat broths, green vegetables, and iron tonics are required, while a great deal of outdoor exercise is needed. It must be remembered that not every pale-faced child is suffering from poverty of the blood, and that some who are well supplied with fat may have poor blood. If the child is really suffering in this way, the insides of the eyelids and gums are invariably of a pale yellowish colour; the colour of the lips and cheeks does not afford so good a test.

When a child complains of headache after study, or using the eyes over close work, such as writing, drawing, or sewing, it should certainly be taken to an oculist, for very often the use of glasses is imperative, owing to some defect in the eyes, which, not uncommonly, is that the sight of one eye is different to that of the other.

Children who indulge in over-eating or careless eating may be relieved either by spontaneous vomiting, or the mother should give an emetic or aperient. Headaches caused by chronic cold are, of course, only to be removed by treatment of this complaint, and the same may be said of those due to decayed teeth, or to the pressure on the nerves by over-crowding of the jaw.

Nervous headaches in the children of parents who suffer from rheumatism or gout depend much on the weather, and yield to anti-rheumatic treatment, especially warmth and warm bathing with the use of sulphur.

For headaches caused by dyspepsia, is is often desirable to peptonise the food, and to assist the stomach by small doses of camomile or calumba infusion before meals. Hysterical and imitative headaches are sometimes found in children of parents who suffer in a similar way, and in those accustomed to associate with people complaining of headache. In these cases the treatment is, of course, mainly moral; but the patient often also requires tonics, good food, gymnastics, bathing and outdoor exercise.

For the external treatment of headaches of most kinds hot foot baths, or mustard foot baths are of great service, with the application of a mustard plaster for a few minutes to the back of the neck; while to the seat of the pain menthol or chloral and camphor may be applied; and either hot or cold applications or gentle rubbing of the head, also often give immense relief.

Source: Home Notes, January 1895

Cold, Milk and Cayenne as a Preventive

“Drink a glass of milk with a pinch of cayenne in it. This will warm the stomach and prevent headache.”

Source: Mother’s Remedies: Over One Thousand Tried and Tested Remidies from Mothers of the United States and Canada, T. J. Ritter