CHAPTER IV

THE BOTANICAL RENAISSANCE OF THE SIXTEENTH AND SEVENTEENTH CENTURIES

1. THE HERBAL IN GERMANY.

In his History of Botany, Kurt Sprengel first used the honoured title, “The German Fathers of Botany,” to describe a group of herbalists—Brunfels, Bock, Fuchs and Cordus—whose work belongs principally to the first half of the sixteenth century.

The earliest of these was Otto Brunfels [Otho Brunfelsius], who is said to have been born in 1464. His surname is derived from the fact that his father, who was a cooper, came from Schloss Brunfels, near Mainz. When Otto grew up, he became a Carthusian monk. We do not know how long his monastic career lasted, but eventually his health appears to have broken down, and, at the same time, his faith in the Roman Catholic Church was undermined by the acquaintance which he began to make with protestant doctrines. He fled from the monastery, and took up his abode in Strasburg, where he was for nine years headmaster of the grammar school. He wrote various theological works, but ultimately turned his attention to medicine, and, before his death in 1534, he had become town physician at Bern. As evidence of his medical studies we have his fine herbal, which is still full of interest, whereas his other works, which he probably regarded as much more serious contributions, have fallen into oblivion.

A new era in the history of the herbal may be said to date from the year 1530, when the first part of Brunfels’ work, the ‘Herbarum vivæ eicones,’ was published by Schott of Strasburg. In this book, with its beautiful and naturalistic illustrations, there is, as the title indicates, a real return to nature; the plants are represented as they _are_, and not in the conventionalised aspect which had become traditional in the earlier herbals, through successive copying by one artist from another, without reference to the plants themselves. The blocks for the ‘Herbarum vivæ eicones’ were executed by Hans Weiditz, who was probably also the draughtsman. Examples are shown in Text-figs. 22, 23, 24, 25, 82, 83 and 84.

The illustrations of Brunfels’ herbal are incomparably better than the text, which is very poor, and largely borrowed from previous writers. Brunfels’ knowledge of botany was chiefly derived from the study of certain Italian authors, Manardus and others, who spent their time in trying to identify the plants they saw growing around them with those described by Dioscorides. This was by no means unreasonable in their case, since it was the plants of the Mediterranean region that Dioscorides had enumerated. When, however, Brunfels attempted to employ the same methods in his examination of the flora of the Strasburg district, and the left bank of the Rhine, many difficulties and discrepancies arose. He had no understanding of the geographical distribution of plants, and did not realise that different regions have dissimilar floras. It is curious that this should have been so, when we remember that Theophrastus, more than eighteen hundred years earlier, had clearly pointed out that the provinces of Asia have each their own characteristic plants, and that some, which occur in one region, are absent from another.

Hieronymus Bock, who in his Latin writings called himself Tragus (Text-fig. 26), was a contemporary of Brunfels, though his botanical work was somewhat later in date. He was born in 1498, and destined by his parents for the cloister. But he proved to have no vocation for the monastic life, and, having passed through a university course, he obtained, by favour of the Count Palatine Ludwig, the post of school teacher at Zweibrücken, and overseer of the Count’s garden. After his patron’s death he removed to Hornbach, where he preached the gospel, and also had an extensive medical practice, devoting his spare time to botany. But he got into some trouble, apparently owing to his protestantism, and was obliged to leave Hornbach. He was in serious straits until Count Philip of Nassau, whom he had previously cured of a severe illness, gave him shelter and support in his own castle. He was eventually able to return to Hornbach, where he filled the office of preacher until his death in 1554.

Bock’s great work is the ‘New Kreutterbuch,’ a herbal which first appeared in 1539, printed at Strasburg by Wendel Rihel. In subsequent editions the title was abbreviated to ‘Kreuter Bůch.’ The first edition was without illustrations, but a second, containing many wood-cuts, followed in 1546. The majority of the figures are said to have been copied on a reduced scale from those in Fuchs’ magnificent herbal, which appeared in 1542, between the first and second editions of Bock’s work. Fuchs’ figures must have been used with great discretion, for the plagiarism is often not obvious (see Text-figs. 27, 90, 91). A considerable number of the figures are new, being drawn and engraved by David Kandel, whose initials appear on the portrait of Bock, reproduced in Text-fig. 26. The wood-cuts of trees in the third part of the book are particularly noticeable (see Text-figs. 28 and 92) and are often made more interesting by the introduction of figures of men and animals.

Bock’s chief claim to remembrance, however, does not lie in his figures, but in his descriptions, which were a great advance on those previously published. He was careful also to note the mode of occurrence and localities of the plants mentioned, and in this feature his work showed some approach to a flora in the modern sense of the word. Bock seems to have been a keen collector, although hampered by ill-health, and a great point in his favour is that he described only those plants which had come under his own personal observation. The Royal Fern (_Osmunda_) was traditionally supposed to bear seed upon St. John’s Eve, though ferns were generally believed at that time to have no organs of fructification. To test this statement, Bock four times spent the night in the forest. He found “small black seed like poppy seed,” in spite of the fact that he “used no charm, incantation or magic character,” but went upon his search without superstition.

Bock’s freedom from the credulity which permeated the work of so many of the early botanists is one of his most remarkable characteristics. His chapters on _Verbena_ and _Artemisia_ reflect clearly the independence of his thought. He points out that the former plant is collected rather for purposes of magic than for medicine, and he can hardly contain his scorn at the “monkey tricks and ceremonies” connected with the use of the latter.

Leonhard Fuchs [or Fuchsius], the third of the Fathers of German Botany (see Frontispiece), belonged to the same generation as Hieronymus Bock, though he was a little younger and produced his chief work three years later. He was born in 1501 at Membdingen in Bavaria, and at an early age he became a student of the University of Erfurt, where he is said to have taken a bachelor’s degree in his thirteenth year! After a period of school teaching, he resumed his studies, this time at the University of Ingolstadt, where he devoted himself chiefly to classics, and became a Master of Arts. After this he turned his attention to medicine, and took a doctor’s degree. At Ingolstadt he came under the influence of Luther’s writings, which won him over to the reformed faith.

Fuchs began to practise as a physician at Munich, but in 1526 he returned to Ingolstadt as Professor of Medicine. He seems to have been of a restless temperament, which was probably accentuated by the persecution to which his protestant opinions exposed him. His career for more than forty years consisted of periods of active practice, alternating with periods of university teaching. In 1535 he was appointed to a professorship at Tübingen, and, while he held this post, he declined a call to the University of Pisa, and also an invitation to become physician to the King of Denmark. It is clear that, both as a physician and a teacher, he was in great demand. He acquired a widespread reputation by his successful treatment of a terrible epidemic disease, which swept over Germany in 1529. A little book of medical instructions and prayers against the plague, which was published in London in the latter half of the sixteenth century, shows that his fame had extended to England. It is entitled, ‘A worthy practise of the moste learned Phisition Maister Leonerd Fuchsius, Doctor in Phisicke, most necessary in this needfull tyme of our visitation, for the comforte of all good and faythfull people, both olde and yonge, both for the sicke and for them that woulde avoyde the daunger of contagion.’

In spite of his professional activity, Fuchs found time to produce a botanical masterpiece, which appeared in 1542 from the press of Isingrin of Basle, under the title ‘De historia stirpium.’ This was a Latin herbal dealing with about four hundred native German, and one hundred foreign plants, and was followed in the succeeding year by a German edition, called the ‘New Kreüterbůch.’ Of all the botanists of the Renaissance, Fuchs is perhaps the one who deserves most to be held in honour. He is notably superior to his two predecessors in matters calling for scholarship, such as the critical study of the plant nomenclature of classical authors. His herbal rivals, or even surpasses, that of Brunfels in its illustrations, and that of Bock in its German text. The letter-press of the Latin edition is, on the whole, inferior to the German, the brief descriptions being often taken word for word from previous writers.

The Latin edition opens, however, with a long and most interesting preface, in singularly pure and fine Latin. Fuchs is keenly indignant at the ignorance of herbs displayed even by medical men. His outburst on this subject may be literally translated as follows:—“But, by Immortal God, is it to be wondered at that kings and princes do not at all regard the pursuit of the investigation of plants, when even the physicians of our time so shrink from it that it is scarcely possible to find one among a hundred who has an accurate knowledge of even so many as a few plants?”

That Fuchs’ work was indeed a labour of love is a conviction that must force itself upon everyone who studies his herbal, and it is further borne out by his own words in the preface—words which bear the stamp of a lively enthusiasm: “But there is no reason why I should dilate at greater length upon the pleasantness and delight of acquiring knowledge of plants, since there is no one who does not know that there is nothing in this life pleasanter and more delightful than to wander over woods, mountains, plains, garlanded and adorned with flowerlets and plants of various sorts, and most elegant to boot, and to gaze intently upon them. But it increases that pleasure and delight not a little, if there be added an acquaintance with the virtues and powers of these same plants.”

The wood-cuts which illustrate Fuchs’ herbal are of extraordinary beauty (Text-figs. 30, 31, 32, 58, 70, 86, 87, 88). Some of them gain a special interest as being the first European figures of certain American plants, e.g. Indian Corn (_Zea mais_ L.) and the Great Pumpkin (_Cucurbita maxima_ Duch.) (Text-fig. 32). These wood-cuts became familiar in England in the second half of the sixteenth century, being used on a reduced scale (borrowed from the octavo edition) in both William Turner’s herbal and Lyte’s Dodoens, two books which we shall consider a little later. In Fuchs’ great work we are fortunate in possessing, in addition to the botanical drawings, a full-length portrait of the author himself, holding a spray of Veronica, on the verso of the title-page (see Frontispiece), and, at the end of the work, named portraits, which are generally supposed to represent the artist who drew the plants from nature, the draughtsman whose business it was to copy the outline on to the wood, and the engraver who actually cut the block (Text-fig. 89). It has also been suggested that the first of these is perhaps engaged in colouring a printed sheet. These portraits are powerfully drawn, and remarkably convincing. It is pleasant to think that we know not merely the names, but the very features of the men who collaborated to give us what is perhaps the most beautiful herbal ever produced.

The influence of Fuchs’ illustrations is more strongly felt in later work than that of his text. The majority of the wood engravings in Bock’s ‘Kreuter Bůch’ (1546), Dodoens’ ‘Crǔ deboeck’ (1554), Turner’s ‘New Herball’ (1551-1568), Lyte’s ‘Niewe Herball’ (1578) and Jean Bauhin’s ‘Historia plantarum universalis’ (1651), are copied from Fuchs, or even printed from his actual wood-blocks, while a number of his figures reappear in the herbals of Egenolph, d’Aléchamps, Tabernæmontanus, etc., and the commentaries of Ruellius and Amatus Lusitanus on Dioscorides.

Fuchs arranged his work alphabetically, making no attempt at a natural grouping of the plants, and his herbal is therefore without importance in the history of plant classification. His influence on methods of plant description was, however, considerable, as is shown by the fact that Dodoens, in his ‘Crǔ deboeck,’ took Fuchs’ herbal as a model for the order of description of each plant. Fuchs’ text, as well as his figures, may thus be said to have had an effect, even if an indirect one, on British botany, since the herbals of Lyte and of Gerard are based on the work of Dodoens, in which, as we have just shown, the influence of Fuchs is clearly felt.

The publisher Christian Egenolph of Frankfort, though not himself a botanical writer, must be mentioned at this stage, because he brought out, in 1533, a set of plant illustrations which became particularly well known (e.g. Text-figs. 33 and 85). They do not reflect any great credit on Egenolph, since they were mostly pirated from Brunfels. They were not even used to illustrate a new herbal, but merely a new edition of the old German Herbarius, enlarged and improved by Dr Eucharias Rhodion, and issued under the name of ‘Kreutterbůch von allem Erdtgewåchs].’

Egenolph was evidently a keen man of business, for he made his figures do duty over and over again. He used them not only as illustrations to the herbal, but as a separate publication, without any letter-press, and also in conjunction with an entirely unrelated text, such, for example, as a Latin version of Dioscorides. Many later editions of the Kreutterbůch appeared, and to these a number of figures were added, chiefly copies, on a reduced scale, from those of Bock, who had himself made considerable use of the drawings in the octavo edition of Fuchs’ herbal. The editions produced under the auspices of Adam Lonicer, the publisher’s son-in-law, are particularly well known. No other botanical works of the period had a success comparable to that of this long series of books, of which Rhodion’s ‘Kreutterbůch’ was the prototype. This success was, however, achieved in the teeth of much adverse contemporary criticism. Fuchs, in the preface of his ‘Historia stirpium’ (1542), referred with unsparing touch to Egenolph’s botanical mistakes. His trenchant indictment may be rendered into English as follows—“Among all the herbals which exist to-day, there are none which have more of the crassest errors than those which Egenolph, the printer, has already published again and again.” This statement Fuchs supports by means of actual examples.

It must nevertheless be admitted that, even if their quality was poor, the herbals published by Egenolph and his successors did good service in disseminating some knowledge of the plant world among a very wide public. There is, in the British Museum, a beautiful copy of the 1536 edition, with a binding stamped in gold and bearing the arms of Mary, Duchess of Suffolk, daughter of Henry VII. The duchess may perhaps have inherited a taste for herbals from her father, for the British Museum also possesses a copy of Vérard’s translation of the ‘Ortus Sanitatis,’ which is known to have been purchased by him.

Among the German Fathers of Botany, Sprengel includes a comparatively little known name, that of Valerius Cordus (1515-1544), a man whose actual achievement was small, but who, if he had not died so young, would probably have become one of the most famous of the earlier herbalists. His father, Euricius Cordus, was a physician, botanist, and man of letters, so Valerius was brought up in a fortunate environment. At sixteen he graduated at the University of Marburg, and, after studying in various towns, he passed from the position of pupil to that of teacher, and expounded Dioscorides at the University of Wittenberg. He travelled widely in search of plants, and visited many of the savants of the period. He is known to have made a stay at Tübingen, and it is highly probable that he became personally acquainted with Leonhard Fuchs.

Cordus had always longed to see, under their native skies, the plants about which the ancients had written, and, in fulfilment of this dream, he undertook a long excursion into Italy. He visited many of the towns, amongst others Padua, Bologna, Florence and Siena, travelling partly on foot and partly on horseback, and generally accompanied by his friend Hieronymus Schreiber. The journey was a very trying one to men accustomed to a more northerly climate. Wild and difficult country had to be traversed in the height of summer, and the exposure and fatigue led to a tragic conclusion. Cordus was injured by a kick from a horse, which brought on a fever, and his companions had great difficulty in getting him as far as Rome. He rallied, however, and his friends were deceived into the belief that he was on the road to recovery. They even thought it safe to leave him, while they made an excursion to Naples, but he did not survive until their return. His fate, like that of Keats, was to see Rome and die.

None of the botanical works of Valerius Cordus were published during his life-time, but his commentaries on Dioscorides and his ‘Historia stirpium’ were edited by Gesner after his death. The great merit of the ‘Historia’ lies in the vividness of the descriptions. The author seems to have examined the plants for their own sake—not merely in the interest of the arts of healing.

Cordus did noteworthy service to medicine, however, for when he passed through Nuremberg on his travels he was able to lay before the physicians of that town a collection of medical recipes, chiefly selected from earlier writings. This work, which had for some time been in use in Saxony in manuscript form, was considered so valuable that, after it had been examined and tested under the auspices of the town council, it was published officially as the Nuremberg ‘Dispensatorium,’ probably in 1546[9]. This is said to be the first work of the nature of a pharmacopœia ever published under government authority.

A passing reference may be made at this point to Jacob Theodor of Bergzabern (1520-1590), a herbalist whose work was perhaps of no very great importance, but who is closely connected with the German Fathers of Botany, having been the pupil both of Otto Brunfels and of Hieronymus Bock. In his books he called himself Tabernæmontanus.

Like the majority of the herbalists, Theodor was a medical man, and his study of botany was a hobby which extended over many years. He projected a herbal, but was unable for a long time to carry the idea into effect, being deterred by the cost of the illustrations. This difficulty was eventually overcome, chiefly through the generosity of Count Palatine Frederick III, and of the Frankfort publisher, Nicolaus Bassæus. The herbal first appeared in 1588, under the title ‘Neuw Kreuterbuch,’ and in 1590 the illustrations were published without any text as the ‘Eicones plantarum.’ The herbal is a large and very finely illustrated work. The figures, however, are for the most part not original, but are reproduced from Bock, Fuchs, Dodoens, Mattioli, de l’Écluse and de l’Obel. This collection of wood-blocks became familiar in England a few years later, when they were acquired by the printer John Norton, and used to illustrate Gerard’s ‘Herball’ which appeared in 1597.

There is still another German herbalist of the sixteenth century whose work must not be overlooked. This is Joachim Camerarius[10] the younger (Plate VI). His father was a celebrated philologist, and a friend of Melanchthon. The son, who was born in 1534, was attracted to botany in his early youth. He studied at Wittenberg and other universities, and travelled in Hungary and Italy. He spent some time in the latter country, and took a doctor’s degree in medicine at Bologna. At Pisa, he became acquainted with Andrea Cesalpino. Finally he returned to Germany, and settled down at Nuremberg. Here he cultivated a garden which was kept supplied with rare plants by his friends, and the Nuremberg merchants.

Camerarius brought out an edition of Mattioli (‘De plantis Epitome’), but his chief work was the ‘Hortus medicus et philosophicus,’ which appeared in 1588. The illustrations to this book consist partly of drawings by Gesner, which the author had bought a few years previously, and partly of original figures. It is impossible to discriminate with any exactness between the work of the two men. These wood-cuts, of which Text-figs. 34, 35, 71 and 100 are examples, will be discussed more fully in Chapter VII. From the botanical point of view, they represent a considerable advance, since the details of floral structure are often shown on an enlarged scale. Camerarius was a good observer, and his travels furnished him with much information regarding the localities for the plants which he described.

2. THE HERBAL IN THE LOW COUNTRIES.

In the sixteenth century, the Herbal flourished exceedingly in the Low Countries. This was due in part to the zeal and activity of the botanists of the Netherlands, but perhaps even more to the munificence, and love of learning for its own sake, which distinguished that prince of publishers, Christophe Plantin of Antwerp. In these qualities he forms a notable contrast to Egenolph of Frankfort, to whose shortcomings we have already drawn attention.

Plantin’s life extended from about 1514 to 1589, and thus included the central years of that wonderful century. He was a native of Touraine, and studied the art of printing at Caen and other French towns. Towards 1550, he and his wife, Jeanne Rivière, settled in Antwerp, where he worked at book-binding, and his wife sold linen in a little shop. Later, he returned to the profession of printing, and his business in this direction gradually developed, and was eventually transferred to the famous Maison Plantin. Christophe’s reputation grew to such an extent that great efforts were made, in various quarters, to tempt him from Antwerp. The Duke of Savoy and Piedmont, for instance, did all he could to persuade him to come to Turin, promising him extensive printing works and all necessary funds—but he remained faithful to the city of his adoption. Perhaps the most potent factor in his success was his keen judgment of men, which enabled him so to choose his subordinates that he gathered around him an unrivalled staff.

One of Plantin’s daughters married Jean Moretus, her father’s chief assistant and successor, and from him the business descended through eight generations of printers to Édouard Jean Hyacinthe Moretus, the last of his race, from whom, in 1876, the citizens of Antwerp purchased the Maison Plantin and its contents. The house had remained practically unchanged since the days when Christophe Plantin lived and worked there, and it is now preserved as the Musée Plantin-Moretus. It is built round a rectangular courtyard, and its beauty, both in proportion and in detail, is such, that one feels at once that Plantin achieved the ambition he expressed in his charming sonnet—‘_Le Bonheur de ce Monde_’—“Avoir une maison commode, propre et belle.”

The pictures, furniture and hangings, and not only the very presses, fonts, and furnaces for casting the type, but even the old account books and corrected proof-sheets are still to be seen, all in their appropriate places. The wage-books are preserved, showing the weekly earnings of compositors, engravers and book-binders, throughout a period of three centuries. In short, the Maison Plantin beggars description, and a visit there is an infallible recipe for transporting the imagination back to the time of the Renaissance, when printing was in its first youth, and was treated with the reverence due to one of the fine arts.

The first Belgian botanist of world-wide renown was Rembert Dodoens [or Dodonæus] (Text-fig. 36). He was a contemporary of Plantin, having been born at Malines in 1517[11]. He studied at Louvain, and visited the universities and medical schools of France, Italy and Germany, eventually qualifying as a doctor. He was successful in his profession, being physician to the Emperors Maximilian II and Rudolph II, and finally becoming Professor of Medicine at Leyden, where he died in 1585. His interest in the medical aspect of botany led him to write a herbal, and, in order to illustrate it, he obtained the use of the wood-blocks which had been employed in the octavo edition of Fuchs’ work. To these a number of new engravings were added. The book was published in Dutch in the year 1554 by Vanderloe, under the title ‘Crǔ deboeck.’ The text is not a translation of Fuchs, as is sometimes supposed, although Dodoens took Fuchs as his model for the order of description of each plant. The method of arrangement is his own, and he indicates localities and times of flowering in the Low Countries, information which clearly could not have been derived from the earlier writer. Almost simultaneously with the first Dutch edition, a French issue appeared under the title of ‘Histoire des Plantes.’ The translation was carried out by Charles de l’Écluse, with whose own work we shall shortly deal. Dodoens supervised the production of the book, and took the opportunity to make some additions. It became known in England through Lyte’s translation, which will be discussed in a later section of this chapter.

The last Dutch edition of the herbal, for which the author himself was responsible, was printed by Vanderloe in 1563. The publisher then parted with Fuchs’ blocks, which were probably acquired by the printer of Lyte’s Dodoens in England. This circumstance put great difficulties in the way of Dodoens’ wish to reproduce his herbal in Latin. However it proved a blessing in disguise, for he had the good fortune to meet, in Christophe Plantin, “un homme qui ne reculait devant aucune dépense, pour donner aux ouvrages qui sortaient de ses presses toute la perfection et le mérite dont ils étaient susceptibles.” Plantin undertook to produce a much modified Latin translation of the herbal, and to have new blocks engraved for it, whilst Dodoens, on his side, engaged to supply the artists with fresh plants, and to superintend their labours. The work proceeded slowly, and was published in parts. It was finally completed in 1583, and was produced in one volume, under the name of ‘Stirpium historiæ pemptades sex sive libri triginta.’ In this work, by far the larger number of the figures are original (see Text-figs. 37, 38, 96 and 97); some, however, were borrowed from de l’Écluse and de l’Obel. This arose from the fact that Plantin was also the publisher for both these writers, and as he bore the expense of their blocks, he had an agreement with the three authors that their illustrations should be treated as common property. A few of Dodoens’ figures were based upon those in the famous manuscript of Dioscorides, now at Vienna (see pp. 8, 85, 154).

In the ‘Pemptades,’ the botanist in Dodoens was more to the fore, and the physician less in evidence than in his earlier work. It is particularly difficult to appraise with any exactness the services which Dodoens rendered to botany. Between him and his two younger countrymen, de l’Écluse and de l’Obel, there was so intimate a friendship that they freely imparted their observations to one another, and permitted the use of them, and also of their figures, in one another’s books. To attempt to ascertain exactly what degree of merit should be attributed to each of the three, would be a task equally difficult and thankless.

Charles de l’Écluse [or Clusius[12]] (Plate VII) was born at Arras in the French Netherlands in 1526; like Dodoens, he passed the closing years of his life at Leyden. He studied at Louvain, and other universities, including Montpelier, where he came under the influence of the botanist, Guillaume Rondelet, who also numbered d’Aléchamps, de l’Obel, Pierre Pena and Jean Bauhin among his pupils. De l’Écluse was an enthusiastic adherent of the reformed faith, to which he was converted by the influence of Melanchthon, and he suffered religious persecution, which brought even actual martyrdom to some of his relatives. Though he did not himself lose his life, he was deprived of his property, and, between poverty and ill-health, his career seems to have been a melancholy one. He passed a nomad existence, attached at one time as tutor to some great family, while, at others, he was occupied in writing or translating for Rondelet, Dodoens or Plantin, or undertaking precarious employment at the court of Vienna. The University of Leyden finally appointed him to a professorship. It is interesting to note that he paid more than one visit to England, and that he was intimate with Sir Francis Drake, who gave him plants from the New World.

De l’Écluse had a reputation for versatility scarcely exceeded by that of his contemporary, the “Admirable” Crichton. He is said to have had a wide knowledge of Latin, Greek, French, German, Flemish, Spanish, law, philosophy, history, geography, zoology, mineralogy and numismatics, besides his chosen subject of botany. Since his botanical début was made as the translator of Dodoens, we may with reason look upon him as a disciple of the latter.

The first original work de l’Écluse produced was an account of the plants which he had observed while on an adventurous expedition to Spain and Portugal with two pupils. This was so successful botanically that he brought back two hundred new species. The description of his finds was published by Plantin in 1576, under the title of ‘Rariorum aliquot stirpium per Hispanias observatarum Historia.’ Wood-blocks were engraved purposely for this book (see Text-figs. 39, 59 and 98), but, for the confusion of the bibliographer, some of them were also used to illustrate Dodoens’ work in the interval while the Spanish flora of de l’Écluse awaited publication. In 1583 appeared our author’s second work, which did the same service for the botany of Austria and Hungary as the previous volume had done for the botany of Spain. These two works, together with some additional matter, were republished in 1601 as the ‘Rariorum plantarum historia.’ In this book, the species belonging to the same genus are often brought together, but, beyond this, there is little attempt at systematic arrangement.

De l’Écluse was weak in the synthetic faculty, his strength lying rather in his powers of observation. Cuvier reckons that he added more than six hundred to the number of known plants. It is characteristic of his versatile mind, that his botanical interests were not confined, like those of most of the early workers, to flowering plants. A manuscript is preserved in the Leyden Library[13] containing more than eighty beautiful water-colour drawings of fungi, executed under the direction of de l’Écluse, by artists employed by his great friend and patron, Baron Boldizsár de Batthyány. This gentleman is said to have been so enthusiastic a botanist, that he set a Turkish prisoner at liberty, on the condition that he should obtain plants for him from Turkey.

De l’Écluse seems to have been a man of wide friendships, and his botanical correspondence was very large. He did much for horticulture, and is called by his friend, Marie de Brimen, Princesse de Chimay, “le père de tous les beaux Jardins de ce pays.” He deserves especial gratitude for one benefit of a very practical nature, namely the introduction of the Potato into Germany and Austria. It is worthy of note that de l’Écluse, unlike the majority of the herbalists, was not a physician, and although he laid considerable stress on the properties of plants, he was not preoccupied with the medical side of the subject. He studied plants for their own sake, and abandoned the futile effort to identify them with those mentioned by the ancients.

The third of the trio of botanists whom we are now considering is Mathias de l’Obel [de Lobel or Lobelius], who was born in Flanders in 1538, and died in England, at Highgate, in 1616 (Plate VIII). He studied at Montpelier, under Guillaume Rondelet, who, finally, bequeathed to him his botanical manuscripts. Here also he became acquainted with a young Provençal, Pierre Pena, with whom he afterwards collaborated in botanical work. De l’Obel took up medicine as his profession, and eventually became physician to William the Silent, a post which he held until the assassination of the Stadtholder. Later on, he and Pena came to England, probably to seek a peaceful life under the prosperous sway of Queen Elizabeth, which was so favourable to the arts and sciences. Their principal work was dedicated to her, in terms of hyperbolic praise. De l’Obel seems to have been well received in this country, for he was invited to superintend the medicinal garden at Hackney, belonging to Lord Zouche, and he eventually obtained the title of Botanist to James I.

De l’Obel’s chief botanical work was the ‘Stirpium adversaria nova[14],’ published in 1570, with Pena as joint author. Pena does not appear to have been a botanist of much importance, and he eventually quite forsook the subject in favour of medicine. It has been suggested, however, that de l’Obel was inclined to minimise the value of his colleague’s work. The system of classification, upon which de l’Obel’s reputation really rests, is set forth in this book. The main feature of his scheme is that he distinguishes different groups by the peculiarities of their leaves. He is thus led to make a rough separation between the classes which we now call Dicotyledons and Monocotyledons. The details of his system will be considered in a later chapter.

In 1576 the work was enlarged, and republished as the ‘Plantarum seu Stirpium Historia’; it was also translated into Flemish, and appeared under the title of ‘Kruydtbœck’ in 1581, dedicated to William of Orange, and the Burgomasters and other functionaries of Antwerp. The blocks (see Text-fig. 67) used to illustrate this work were taken from previous books, especially those of de l’Écluse. Immediately after the publication of the Kruydtbœck, Plantin brought out an album of the engravings it had contained, which, although they had been also used to illustrate the herbals of Dodoens and de l’Écluse, were now grouped according to de l’Obel’s arrangement, which was recognised as the best.

3. THE HERBAL IN ITALY.

The Italian botanists of the Renaissance devoted themselves chiefly to interpreting the works of the classical writers on Natural History, and to the identification of the plants to which they referred. This came about quite naturally, from the fact that the Mediterranean flora, which they saw around them, was actually that with which the writers in question had been, in their day, familiar. The botanists of southern Europe were not compelled, as were those whose homes lay north of the Alps, to distort facts before they could make the plants of their native country fit into the procrustean bed of classical descriptions.

One of the chief of the commentators and herbalists of this period was Pierandrea Mattioli [or Matthiolus] (Text-fig. 40), who was born at Siena in 1501, and died of the plague in 1577. We realise something of the frightful extent of this scourge, when we remember that it claimed as victims no less than three of the small company of Renaissance botanists, Gesner, Mattioli and Zaluzian. Leonhard Fuchs was brought into fame by his successful treatment of one of these epidemics. It should also be recalled that, while Gaspard Bauhin, one of the best known of the later herbalists, was practising as a physician at Basle, no less than three of these terrible outbreaks occurred in the town.

Mattioli was the son of a doctor, and his early life was passed in Venice, where his father was in practice. He was destined for the law, but his inherited tastes led him away from jurisprudence to medicine. He practised in several different towns, and became physician, successively, to the Archduke Ferdinand, and to the Emperor Maximilian II.

Mattioli’s ‘Commentarii in sex libros Pedacii Dioscoridis,’ his _chef-d’œuvre_, the gradual production and improvement of which occupied his leisure hours throughout his life, was first published in 1544. It was translated into many languages and appeared in countless editions. The success of the work was phenomenal, and it is said that 32,000 copies of the earlier editions were sold. The title does not do the book justice, for it contains, besides an exposition of Dioscorides, a Natural History dealing with all the plants known to Mattioli. The early editions had small illustrations only (Text-figs. 41, 42, 93 and 94), but, later on, editions with large and very beautiful figures were published, such as that which appeared at Venice in 1565 (Text-figs. 43, 44, 95).

Mattioli’s descriptions of the plants with which he deals are not so good as those of some of his contemporaries. He found and recorded a certain number of new plants, especially from the Tyrol, but most of the species, which he described for the first time, were not his own discoveries, but were communicated to him by others. Luca Ghini, for instance, had projected a similar work, but handed over all his material to Mattioli, who also placed on record the discoveries made by the physician, Wilhelm Quakelbeen, who had accompanied the celebrated diplomatist, Auger-Gislain Busbecq, on a mission to Turkey.

Busbecq brought from Constantinople a wonderful collection of Greek manuscripts, including Juliana Anicia’s copy of the Materia Medica of Dioscorides, now in the Vienna Library (see pp. 8 and 154). He discovered this great manuscript in the hands of a Jew, who required a hundred ducats for it. This price was almost prohibitive, but Busbecq was an enthusiast, and he successfully urged the Emperor, whose representative he was, “to redeem so illustrious an author from that servitude[15].” His purpose in buying the manuscript seems to have been largely in order to communicate it to Mattioli, who would thus be able to make use of it in preparing his Commentaries on Dioscorides.

The personal character of Mattioli does not appear to have been a pleasant one. He engaged in numerous controversies with his fellow botanists, and hurled the most abusive language at those who ventured to criticise him.

Another Italian herbalist, Castor Durante, slightly later in date than Mattioli, should perhaps be mentioned here, not because of the intrinsic value of his work, but because of its widespread popularity. At least two of his books appeared in many editions and translations.

Durante was a physician who issued a series of botanical compilations, bedizened with Latin verse. The best known of his works is the ‘Herbario Nuovo,’ published at Rome in 1585 (Text-figs. 45 and 103). A second book, the original version of which is seldom met with, has survived in the form of a German translation, by Peter Uffenbach. The German version was named ‘Hortulus Sanitatis.’ As an illustration of Durante’s charmingly unscientific manner, we may take the legend of the “Arbor tristis” which occurs in both these works. The figure which accompanies it (Text-fig. 45) shows, beneath the moon and stars, a drawing of a tree whose trunk has a human form. The description, as it occurs in the ‘Hortulus Sanitatis,’ may be translated as follows:

“Of this tree the Indians say, there was once a very beautiful maiden, daughter of a mighty lord called Parisataccho. This maiden loved the Sun, but the Sun forsook her because he loved another. So, being scorned by the Sun, she slew herself, and when her body had been burned, according to the custom of that land, this tree sprang from her ashes. And this is the reason why the flowers of this tree shrink so intensely from the Sun, and never open in his presence. And thus it is a special delight to see this tree in the night time, adorned on all sides with its lovely flowers, since they give forth a delicious perfume, the like of which is not to be met with in any other plant, but no sooner does one touch the plant with one’s hand than its sweet scent vanishes away. And however beautiful the tree has appeared, and however sweetly it has bloomed at night, directly the Sun rises in the morning it not only fades but all its branches look as though they were withered and dead.”

Much more famous than Durante was Fabio Colonna, or, as he is more generally called, Fabius Columna (Plate IX), who was born at Naples in 1567. His father was a well-known littérateur. Fabio Colonna’s profession was that of law, but he was also well acquainted with languages, music, mathematics and optics. He tells us in the preface to his principal work that his interest in plants was aroused by his difficulty in obtaining a remedy for epilepsy, a disease from which he suffered. Having tried all sorts of prescriptions without result, he examined the literature on the subject, and discovered that most of the writers of his time merely served up the results obtained by the ancients, often in a very incorrect form. So he went to the fountain head, Dioscorides, and after much research identified Valerian as being the herb which that writer had recommended against epilepsy, and succeeded in curing himself by its use.

This experience convinced Colonna that the knowledge of the identity of the plants described by the ancients was in a most unsatisfactory condition, and he set himself to produce a work which should remedy this state of things. This book was published in 1592, under the name of ‘Phytobasanos,’ which embodies a quaint conceit after the fashion of the time. The title is a compound Greek word meaning “plant torture,” and was apparently employed by Colonna to explain that he had subjected the plants to ordeal by torture, in order to wrest from them the secret of their identity. But it must be confessed that Colonna himself is by no means free from error, as regards the names which he assigns to them.

The great feature of the ‘Phytobasanos,’ however, is the excellence of the descriptions and figures. The latter are famous as being the first etchings on copper used to illustrate a botanical work (Text-figs. 46 and 105). They were an advance on all previous plant drawings, except the work of Gesner and Camerarius, in giving, in many cases, detailed analyses of the flowers and fruit as well as habit drawings. We owe to Colonna also the technical use of the word “petal,” which he suggested as a descriptive term for the coloured floral leaves[16].

By means of his wide scientific correspondence, Colonna kept in touch with many of the naturalists of his time, notably with de l’Écluse and Gaspard Bauhin.

A passing reference may be made here to a book which is rather of the nature of a local flora than a herbal, entitled ‘Prosperi Alpini de plantis Ægypti,’ which was published at Venice in 1592. It contains a number of wood-cuts, which appear to be original. The one reproduced (Text-fig. 47) represents _Salicornia_, the Glasswort. The author was a doctor who went to Egypt with the Venetian consul, Giorgio Emo, and had opportunities of collecting plants there. He is said to have been the first European writer to mention the Coffee plant, which he saw growing at Cairo. Prospero Alpino eventually became Professor of Botany at Padua, and enriched the botanical garden of that town with Egyptian plants.

4. THE HERBAL IN SWITZERLAND.

Among the many scientific men, whose names are associated with Switzerland, one of the most renowned is Konrad Gesner (Plate X), who was born at Zurich in 1516, the son of a poor furrier. His taste for botany was due, in the first instance, to the influence of his uncle, a protestant preacher. Konrad went to France to study medicine, but in Paris, the richness of the libraries, and the delight of associating with learned men, tempted him away from his special subject into a course of omnivorous reading. After an interval of school teaching at Zurich, he betook himself to Basle, where he entered more methodically upon the study of medicine, at the same time attempting to support himself by working at a Latin dictionary. However, after a short period of student life, he found the expense too great, and was obliged to abandon it, and to take a post as teacher of classics in Lausanne. He had received assistance at different times from his native town, which again came to his help at this juncture, and generously allotted to him a “Reisestipendium,” for the continuance of his medical studies. He indeed owed much to Zurich, for, after taking his doctorate, he was appointed first to the professorship of Philosophy there, and then to that of Natural History, which he held until he died of the plague in his forty-ninth year.

Gesner’s most remarkable characteristic was his versatility and encyclopædic knowledge; he has been called the Pliny of his time. His work on bibliographical and linguistic subjects was of importance, and he also wrote on medicine, mineralogy, zoology and botany. The botanical works published during his life were not of great importance, but, at the time of his death, he had already prepared a large part of the material for a general history of plants, which was intended as a companion work to his famous ‘Historia Animalium.’ In order to illustrate it, he had collected 1500 drawings of plants, the majority original, though some were founded on previous wood-cuts, especially those of Fuchs. The undertaking was so far advanced that some of the figures had been drawn upon the wood, and certain blocks had even been engraved. The whole collection, and the manuscripts, he bequeathed for publication to his friend Caspar Wolf. Wolf seems to have made an honest effort to carry out Gesner’s wishes, and he succeeded in publishing a few of the wood-cuts, as an appendix to Simler’s ‘Vita Conradi Gesneri’ (e.g. Text-fig. 48). Unfortunately he was hampered by weak health, and the task, as a whole, proved beyond his powers. He sold everything to Joachim Camerarius the younger, with the proviso that the purchaser should make himself responsible for the publication. Camerarius failed to fulfil the spirit of this obligation. It is true that he brought a large number of Gesner’s figures before the public, but he did this only by the indirect method of using them, among his own drawings, to illustrate an edition of Mattioli, and a book of his own.

Finally, about a hundred and fifty years after the death of Camerarius, Gesner’s drawings and blocks came into the possession of the eighteenth-century botanist and bibliographer, Christoph Jacob Trew, who published them, thus giving Gesner his due so far as was possible at that late date. Such blocks as were in good condition were printed directly, and, from the drawings, a number of copper engravings were made, coloured like the originals. The drawings were of unequal merit, some of them being on a very small scale and lacking in clearness. In one point, however, Gesner shows a marked advance on the methods of his contemporaries—namely in giving detailed, analysed studies of flower and fruit structure, as well as a drawing showing the habit of the plant. It must not be forgotten that, even in Trew’s edition, it is impossible to discriminate with certainty between the work of Gesner and that of Camerarius.

Unfortunately, we have no knowledge of the text of Gesner’s manuscript, but his letters make it clear that his interest in botany was thoroughly scientific. If his work were extant, he would probably shine as a discoverer of new species, especially among alpines, for his figures indicate that he was acquainted with a number of plants which de l’Écluse, Gaspard Bauhin and others were the first to describe.

Among Gesner’s numerous scientific correspondents was Jean Bauhin, a brilliant young man, twenty-five years his junior. Their acquaintance began when Bauhin was only eighteen, but, in spite of his friend’s youth, Gesner consulted him in botanical difficulties, describing him as “eruditissimus et ornatissimus juvenis.”

Jean Bauhin was the son of a French doctor, a native of Amiens, who had been converted to protestantism by reading the Latin translation of the New Testament prepared by Erasmus. In consequence of his change of faith, he was subjected to religious persecution, which he avoided by retreating to Switzerland, where his sons Jean and Gaspard were born. The medical tradition seems to have been remarkably strong in the family. Both Jean and Gaspard became doctors—Gaspard, whose sons also entered the profession, being, in fact, the second of six generations of physicians. For two hundred years, an unbroken succession of members of the family were medical men.

After Jean Bauhin had studied for a time at the University of Basle, he went to Tübingen, where he learned botany from Leonhard Fuchs. From Tübingen he proceeded to Zurich, and accompanied Gesner on some journeys in the Alps. After further travel on his own account, and a period at the University of Montpelier, he reached Lyons, where he came in contact with d’Aléchamps, who engaged him to assist with the ‘Histoire des plantes.’ Bauhin began to occupy himself with this work, but his protestantism proved a stumbling-block to his life there, and he was obliged to quit France.

Jean Bauhin’s chief botanical work, the ‘Histoire universelle des plantes,’ was a most ambitious undertaking, which he did not live to see published. However, his son-in-law Cherler, a physician of Basle, who had helped him in preparing it, brought out a preliminary sketch of it in 1619, and, in 1650 and 1651, the _magnum opus_ itself was published, under the name of ‘Historia plantarum universalis.’ This book is a compilation from all sources, and includes descriptions of 5000 plants. The figures, of which there are more than 3500, are small and badly executed. A large proportion of them are ultimately derived from those of Fuchs.

Jean Bauhin’s more famous brother, Gaspard [or Caspar] (Plate XI), was born in 1560, and was thus the younger by nineteen years. Gaspard studied at Basle, Padua, Montpelier, Paris and Tübingen. He also travelled in Italy, making observations upon the flora, and becoming acquainted with scientific men. Unfortunately he missed being a pupil of Leonhard Fuchs, since his sojourn at Tübingen took place some years after the death of the famous herbalist, who had been his brother’s teacher. The illness and death of his father in 1582 made it necessary for him to settle in Basle, where he became Professor of Botany and Anatomy, and eventually of Medicine.

Inspired by the example of his brother, he conceived the plan of collecting, in a single work, all that had been previously written upon plants, and, especially, of drawing up a concordance of all the names given by different authors to the same species. His extensive early travels served as a good preparation for this task, since he had not only observed and collected widely, but had established relations with the best botanists in Europe. He formed a herbarium of about 4000 plants, including specimens from correspondents in many countries, even Egypt and the East Indies. Besides study bearing directly on his great project, he accomplished a considerable amount of critical and editorial work, which also had its value in relation to his main plan. He produced new editions of Mattioli’s Commentaries, and of the herbal of Tabernæmontanus, and published a criticism of d’Aléchamps’ ‘Historia plantarum.’

There is a marked parallelism between the careers of the Bauhin brothers, for Gaspard’s great work underwent much the same vicissitudes as that of Jean. The main part of Gaspard’s chief work never saw the light at all, although his son brought out one instalment of it, many years after his father’s death. Gaspard was however more fortunate than Jean, in that he lived to see the publication of three important preliminary volumes, as the result of his researches, and it is on these that his reputation rests.

The ‘Prodromos theatri botanici’ of 1620 consisted of descriptions of 600 species, which the author regarded as new, although several had, as a matter of fact, been already described by de l’Écluse. Figures of about 140 species are given, two of which are here reproduced (Text-figs. 49 and 62). One of these, the Potato (Text-fig. 49), still retains the name of _Solanum tuberosum_ which Bauhin gave to it. He had previously published a description of this plant in an earlier work, the ‘Phytopinax’ of 1596.

In 1623, Gaspard Bauhin brought out his most important botanical book, the ‘Pinax[17] theatri botanici.’ By this date, owing to the number of different names bestowed upon the same plant by different authors, and the varying identifications of those described by the ancients, the subject of plant nomenclature had been reduced to a condition of woeful confusion. Bauhin’s ‘Pinax’ converted chaos into order, since it contained the first complete and methodical concordance of the names of plants, and was so authoritative as to earn for the author the title of “législateur en botanique.” The work, which dealt with about 6000 plants, was recognised as pre-eminent for many years. Morison criticised the scheme of arrangement on which it was based, but adopted its nomenclature, as also did Ray. Tournefort also retained, as far as possible, the names of the genera and species used in the ‘Pinax.’ As Sachs long ago pointed out, this work is “the first and for that time a completely exhaustive book of synonyms, and is still indispensable for the history of individual species—no small praise to be given to a work that is more than 250 years old.”

Gaspard Bauhin deserves great honour as the first who introduced some degree of order into the chaotic muddle of nomenclature and synonymy. The special merits of his work, more especially his power of concise and lucid description, and his faculty for systematic arrangement, may perhaps be attributed to his French blood, since such qualities are markedly characteristic of French scientific writing.

It is much to be regretted that the two brothers Bauhin should have carried on their work independently and separately, considering that they had in view practically identical objects—objects in which each only achieved a partial success. It seems as if a work of much greater value might have resulted if they had joined forces.

5. THE HERBAL IN FRANCE.

France (excluding the French Netherlands) does not seem, at first sight, to have contributed a great deal towards the development of the Herbal in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, but it must be remembered that Jean and Gaspard Bauhin, and the publisher, Christophe Plantin, were French by extraction, though Switzerland and Holland were their countries by adoption. Most of the important herbals published in other languages were translated into French quite early in their history, sometimes in a modified form, so that France in the sixteenth century was probably by no means backward in botanical knowledge. One such adaptation was ‘L’Histoire des Plantes,’ by Geofroy Linocier, which was founded, in part, on the works of Fuchs and Mattioli.

A well-known name among the earlier French writers is that of Jean Ruel, or Joannes Ruellius, as he is commonly called (1474-1537). He was a physician, and a professor in the University of Paris, and chiefly devoted himself to the emending and explaining of Dioscorides. He also wrote a general botanical treatise, ‘De Natura Stirpium,’ which first appeared in Paris in 1536. This work, which is without illustrations, is intended mainly to elucidate the ancient writers.

The most famous of the French herbalists was Jacques d’Aléchamps (Text-fig. 50), whose _magnum opus_, which appeared in 1586, formed a compendium of much of the material which had been contributed by the different nations. He was born at Caen in 1513, and after studying medicine at Montpelier, entered upon the practice of it at Lyons, where he remained until his death in 1588.

D’Aléchamps’ great work is generally called the ‘Historia plantarum Lugdunensis.’ Curiously enough, the author’s name is not mentioned on the title-page. From the preface one would gather that Johannes Molinäus (or Desmoulins) was the chief author. However, judging by the way in which the book was quoted by contemporary writers, there appears to be little doubt that d’Aléchamps was really responsible for it, though assisted at different times by Jean Bauhin and Desmoulins.

The ‘Historia plantarum’ had numerous faults, but it was, at the time, the most complete universal flora that existed. It contained about 2700 figures (two of which are reproduced in Text-figs. 51 and 101), but, both in drawing and wood-cutting, they show marked inferiority to much of the earlier work.

6. THE HERBAL IN ENGLAND.

The greatest name among British herbalists of the Renaissance period is that of William Turner, physician and divine, the “Father of British Botany.” He was a north-countryman, a native of Morpeth in Northumberland, where he was born probably between 1510 and 1515. He received his education at what is now Pembroke College, Cambridge. Pembroke deserves to be especially held in honour by botanists, for a hundred years later, Nehemiah Grew, who was as pre-eminent among British botanists of the seventeenth century as Turner was among those of the sixteenth, also became a student at this college.

Like so many of the early botanists, William Turner was closely associated with the Reformation. He embraced the views of his friends and instructors at Cambridge, Nicholas Ridley and Hugh Latimer, and fought for the reformed faith throughout his life, both with pen and by word of mouth. His caustic wit was also used, with almost equal vehemence, to attack the abuses which crept into his own party. A ban was put upon his writings in the reign of Henry VIII, and for a time he suffered imprisonment, but, when Edward VI came to the throne, his fortunes improved, and, after a long and tedious period of waiting for preferment, he obtained the Deanery of Wells. Difficulty in ejecting the previous Dean caused much delay in obtaining possession of the house, and Turner lamented bitterly that, in the small and crowded temporary lodging, “i can not go to my booke for y^e crying of childer & noyse y^t is made in my chamber.”

A clergyman’s life must have been full of unwelcome vicissitudes in those days, if Turner’s career was at all typical. During Mary’s reign he was a fugitive, and the former Dean of Wells was reinstated. However, when Elizabeth ascended the throne, the position was reversed, and Turner came back to Wells, “the usurper,” as he calls his rival, being ejected. But his triumph was short-lived, for in 1564 he was suspended for nonconformity. His controversial methods were violent in the extreme, and he seems to have been a thorn in the flesh of his superiors. The Bishop of Bath and Wells wrote on one occasion that he was “much encombred w^{th} m^r Doctor _Turner_ Deane of Welles, for his undiscrete behavior in the pulpitt: where he medleth w^{th} all matters, and unsemelie speaketh of all estates, more than ys standinge withe discressyon.”

Christian doctrine was by no means the only subject that occupied Turner’s attention. He had taken a medical degree either at Ferrara or Bologna, and, in the reign of Edward VI, he was physician to the Duke of Somerset, the Protector. He had travelled much in Italy, Switzerland, Holland and Germany, at the periods when his religious opinions excluded him from England. One of the great advantages, which he reaped from his wanderings, was the opportunity of studying botany at Bologna under Luca Ghini, who was also the teacher of Cesalpino. Another savant, with whom he became acquainted on the Continent, was Konrad Gesner, whom he visited at Zurich, and with whom he maintained a warm friendship. He also corresponded with Leonhard Fuchs.

Turner’s earliest botanical work was the ‘Libellus de re herbaria novus’ (1538), which is the first book in which localities for many of our native British plants are placed on record. In 1548 this was followed by another little work, ‘The names of herbes in Greke, Latin, Englishe, Duche and Frenche wyth the commune names that Herbaries and Apotecaries use.’ In the preface to this book, Turner tells us that he had projected a Latin herbal, and had indeed written it, but refrained from publishing it because, when he “axed the advise of Phisicianes in thys matter, their advise was that I shoulde cease from settynge out of this boke in latin tyll I had sene those places of Englande, wherein is moste plentie of herbes, that I might in my herbal declare to the greate honoure[18] of our countre what numbre of sovereine and strang herbes were in Englande that were not in other nations, whose counsell I have folowed deferryng to set out my herbal in latin, tyl that I have sene the west countrey, which I never sawe yet in al my lyfe, which countrey of all places of England, as I heare say is moste richely replenished wyth all kyndes of straunge and wonderfull workes and giftes of nature, as are stones, herbes, fishes and metalles.”

He explains that while waiting to complete his herbal, he has been advised to publish this little book in which he has set forth the names of plants. He adds, “and because men should not thynke that I write of that I never sawe, and that Poticaries shoulde be excuselesse when as the ryghte herbes are required of them, I have shewed in what places of Englande, Germany, and Italy the herbes growe and maye be had for laboure and money.”

Turner’s _chef-d’œuvre_ was his ‘Herball,’ published in three instalments, the first in London in 1551, the first and second together at Cologne in 1562, during his exile in the reign of Mary, and the third part, together with the preceding, in 1568. The title of the first part runs as follows, ‘A new Herball, wherin are conteyned the names of Herbes ... with the properties degrees and naturall places of the same, gathered and made by Wylliam Turner, Physicion unto the Duke of Somersettes Grace.’ The figures illustrating the herbal are, for the most part, the same as those in the octavo edition of Fuchs’ work, published in 1545.

The dedication of the herbal, in its completed form, to Queen Elizabeth, throws some light on Turner’s life, and incidentally on that illustrious lady herself. The doctor recalls, with pardonable pride and perhaps a touch of blarney, an occasion on which the Princess Elizabeth, as she then was, had conversed with him in Latin. “As for your knowledge in the Latin tonge,” he writes, “xviii yeares ago or more, I had in the Duke of Somersettes house (beynge his Physition at that tyme) a good tryal thereof, when as it pleased your grace to speake Latin unto me: for although I have both in England, lowe and highe Germanye, and other places of my longe traveil and pelgrimage, never spake with any noble or gentle woman, that spake so wel and so much congrue fyne and pure Latin, as your grace did unto me so longe ago.”

Turner defends himself against the insinuation that “a booke intreatinge onelye of trees, herbes and wedes, and shrubbes, is not a mete present for a prince,” and certainly, if we accept his account of the state of knowledge at the time, the need for such a book must have been most urgent. He explains that, while he was still at Pembroke Hall, Cambridge, he endeavoured to learn the names of plants, but, “suche was the ignorance in simples at that tyme,” that he could get no information on the subject, even from physicians. He claims that his herbal has considerable originality—a claim which seems well founded. In his own words—“they that have red the first part of my Herbal, and have compared my writinges of plantes with those thinges that Matthiolus, Fuchsius, Tragus, and Dodoneus wrote in y^e firste editiones of their Herballes, maye easily perceyve that I taught the truthe of certeyne plantes, which these above named writers either knew not at al, or ellis erred in them greatlye.... So y^t as I learned something of them, so they ether might or did learne somthinge of me agayne, as their second editions maye testifye. And because I would not be lyke unto a cryer y^t cryeth a loste horse in the marketh, and telleth all the markes and tokens that he hath, and yet never sawe the horse, nether coulde knowe the horse if he sawe him: I wente into Italye and into diverse partes of Germany, to knowe and se the herbes my selfe.”

This herbal contains many evidences of Turner’s independence of thought. He fought against what he regarded as superstition in science with the same ardour with which he entered upon religious polemics. The legend of the human form of the Mandrake receives scant mercy at his hands. As he points out, “The rootes which are conterfited and made like litle puppettes and mammettes, which come to be sold in England in boxes, with heir, and such forme as a man hath, are nothyng elles but folishe feined trifles, and not naturall. For they are so trymmed of crafty theves to mocke the poore people with all, and to rob them both of theyr wit and theyr money. I have in my tyme at diverse tymes taken up the rootes of Mandrag out of the grounde, but I never saw any such thyng upon or in them, as are in and upon the pedlers rootes that are comenly to be solde in boxes.” Turner was, however, by no means the first to dispute the Mandrake superstition; in the Grete Herball of 1526 it is definitely refuted, and it is ignored in some works that are of even earlier date. The hoax was long-lived, for we find Gerard also exposing it in 1597.

Turner had a fine scorn for any superstitious notions he detected in the writings of his contemporaries, and seems to have been particularly pleased if he could show that in any disputed matter they were wrong, while the ancients, for whom he had a great reverence, were right. For instance he has a great deal to say about a theory, held by Mattioli, in opposition to the opinions of Theophrastus and Dioscorides, that the Broomrape (_Orobanche_) could kill other plants merely by its baneful presence, without any physical contact. He declares that this view is against reason, authority and experience, and points out that the figure which Mattioli gives is faulty, in omitting to show the roots, which are the real instruments of destruction. He triumphantly concludes, “And as touchynge experience, I know that the freshe and yong Orobanche hath commyng out of the great roote, many lytle strynges ... wherewith it taketh holde of the rootes of the herbes that grow next unto it. Wherefore Matthiolus ought not so lyghtly to have defaced the autorite of Theophrast so ancient and substantiall autor.” Turner’s work is largely occupied with the opinions of early writers, especially Dioscorides, and his respect for their authority is a somewhat curious trait in a character which seems, in other directions, to have been so unorthodox. He did not however treat their books as the last word on the subject, and the third part of his herbal is occupied with plants “whereof is no mention made nether of y^e old Grecianes nor Latines.”

Turner’s herbal is arranged alphabetically, and does not show evidence of any interest in the relationships of the plants. It is as individuals, and essentially as “simples,” that he regarded them. His descriptions of them were often vividly expressed, though not markedly original. It must be remembered that botany was not the only science which he studied. He wrote about birds, and also contributed information about English fishes to Gesner’s ‘Historia Animalium.’

Before discussing the next herbal which appeared in this country, we may refer in passing to a botanical book which hardly comes under this heading, but which is of interest in relation to the history of the time. Nicolas Monardes, a Spanish physician, had published, in 1569 and 1571, some account of the plants which had lately been brought to Europe from the recently discovered West Indies, and this work was translated into English by John Frampton in 1577, under the title of ‘Joyfull newes out of the newe founde worlde.’ This book contains a good figure of the Tobacco plant (Text-fig. 52), perhaps the first ever published, and also a long account of its virtues. The reader is told that the Negroes and Indians after inhaling tobacco smoke “doe remaine lightened, without any wearinesse, for to laboure again: and thei dooe this with so greate pleasure, that although thei bee not wearie, yet thei are very desirous for to dooe it: and the thyng is come to so muche effecte, that their maisters doeth chasten theim for it, and doe burne the _Tabaco_, because thei should not use it.”

Twenty-seven years after the appearance of the first part of Turner’s herbal, a translation of Dodoens’ work, made by Henry Lyte, appeared in England. Lyte was born about 1529, and, towards the end of the reign of Henry VIII, he became a student at Oxford. He was a man of means, addicted to travel, and his temperament seems to have been much milder and less revolutionary than that of his predecessor Turner. He did not perhaps add very greatly to the knowledge of English botany, but he did a valuable service in introducing Dodoens’ herbal into this country. His book, which was published in 1578, was professedly a translation of the French version of Dodoens’ Crǔ deboeck of 1554, which had been made by de l’Écluse in 1557. Lyte’s copy of this work, with copious manuscript notes, and, on the title-page, the quaint endorsement, “Henry Lyte taught me to speake Englishe,” is preserved in the British Museum. This copy proves that Lyte was no mere mechanical translator, for the work is annotated and corrected with great care, references to de l’Obel and Turner being introduced.

The title of Lyte’s book is as follows: ‘A Niewe Herball or Historie of Plantes: wherin is contayned the whole discourse and perfect description of all sortes of Herbes and Plantes: their divers and sundry kindes: their straunge Figures, Fashions, and Shapes: their Names, Natures, Operations, and Vertues: and that not onely of those which are here growyng in this our Countrie of Englande, but of all others also of forrayne Realmes, commonly used in Physicke. First set foorth in the Doutche or Almaigne tongue, by that learned D. Rembert Dodoens, Physition to the Emperour: And nowe first translated out of French into English, by Henry Lyte Esquyer.’ The illustrations used in the book were the same as those which had appeared in the translation by de l’Écluse, and were for the most part copies of those in the octavo edition of Fuchs’ herbal, with some additional blocks, which had been cut specially for Dodoens. The result is that many of the same figures occur both in Turner and in Lyte. There are said to be 870 figures in Lyte’s herbal, of which about thirty are new. Of the latter _Centaurea rhaponticum_ is an example (Text-fig. 53).

Lyte occasionally adds a criticism of his own in a different type from that used in the main body of the text. At the beginning of the book, there is a long set of doggerel verses “in commendation of this worke,” which imply that Rembert Dodoens himself made additions to the English translation. The most important stanza is the following:—

“Great was his toyle, whiche first this worke dyd frame. And so was his, whiche ventred to translate it, For when he had full finisht all the same, He minded not to adde, nor to abate it. But what he founde, he ment whole to relate it. Till _Rembert_ he, did sende additions store. For to augment _Lytes_ travell past before.”

We now come to John Gerard[19] (Plate XII), the best known of all the English herbalists, but who, it must be confessed, scarcely deserves the fame which has fallen to his share. Gerard, a native of Cheshire, was a “Master in Chirurgerie,” but was better known as a remarkably successful gardener. For twenty years he supervised the gardens belonging to Lord Burleigh in the Strand, and at Theobalds in Hertfordshire, besides having himself a famous garden in Holborn, then the most fashionable district of London. In 1596 he published a list of the plants which he cultivated in Holborn, which is interesting as being the first complete catalogue ever published of the contents of a single garden.

Gerard’s reputation rests however on a much larger work, ‘The Herball or Generall Historie of Plantes,’ printed by John Norton in 1597, but the manner in which this book originated does the author little credit. It seems that Norton, the publisher, had commissioned a certain Dr Priest to translate Dodoens’ final work, the ‘Pemptades’ of 1583, into English, but Priest died before the work was finished. Gerard simply adopted Priest’s translation, completed it, and published it as his own, merely altering the arrangement from that of Dodoens to that of de l’Obel. He adds insult to injury by gratuitously remarking, in an address to the reader at the beginning of the herbal, that “Doctor _Priest_, one of our London Colledge, hath (as I heard) translated the last edition of _Dodonæus_, which meant to publish the same; but being prevented by death, his translation likewise perished.” After the manner of the period, the herbal is embellished with a number of prefatory letters, in one of which, written by Stephen Bredwell, a statement occurs which is so inconsistent with Gerard’s own remarks that he certainly committed an oversight in allowing it to stand! In Bredwell’s words—“D. _Priest_ for his translation of so much as _Dodonæus_, hath hereby left a tombe for his honorable sepulture. Master _Gerard_ comming last, but not the least, hath many waies accommodated the whole worke unto our English nation.”

The ‘Herball’ is a massive volume, in clear Roman type, contrasting markedly with the black letter used in the works of Turner and Lyte, and giving the book a much more modern appearance. It contains about 1800 wood-cuts, nearly all from blocks used by Tabernæmontanus in his ‘Eicones’ of 1590, which Norton obtained from Frankfort; less than one per cent. are original. There is an illustration representing the Virginian Potato, which appears to be new, and is perhaps the first figure of this plant ever published (Text-fig. 60). Gerard did not know enough about botany to couple the wood-blocks of Tabernæmontanus with their appropriate descriptions, and de l’Obel was requested by the printer to correct the author’s blunders. This he did, according to his own account, in very many places, but yet not so many as he wished, since Gerard became impatient, and summarily stopped the process of emendation, on the ground that de l’Obel had forgotten his English. After this episode, the relations between the two botanists seem, not unnaturally, to have become somewhat strained.

Gerard evidently aimed at conveying information in simple language, for in one place, where he speaks of a preparation being “squirted” into the eyes, he apologises for the colloquialism, explaining that he does not wish “to be over eloquent among gentlewomen, unto whom especially my works are most necessary.”

The value of Gerard’s work must inevitably be at a discount, when we realise that it is impossible, from internal evidence, to accept him as a credible witness. His oft-quoted account of the “Goose tree,” “Barnakle tree,” or the “tree bearing Geese,” removes what little respect one may have felt for him as a scientist, not so much because he held an absurd belief, which was widely accepted at the time, but rather because he went out of his way to state that it was confirmed by his own observations! He gives a figure to illustrate the origin of the Geese (Text-fig. 54), which is not, however, original.

Gerard relates how trees, actually bearing shells which open and hatch out barnacle geese, occur in the “Orchades[20],” but he states that on this point he has no first-hand knowledge. He proceeds, however, to remark, “But what our eies have seene, and hands have touched, we shall declare. There is a small Ilande in Lancashire called the Pile of Foulders, wherein are found the broken peeces of old and brused ships, some whereof have beene cast thither by shipwracke, and also the trunks or bodies with the branches of old and rotten trees, cast up there likewise: wheron is found a certaine spume or froth, that in time breedeth unto certaine shels, in shape like those of the muskle, but sharper pointed, and of a whitish colour; wherein is conteined a thing in forme like a lace of silke finely woven, as it were togither, of a whitish colour; one ende whereof is fastned unto the inside of the shell, even as the fish of Oisters and Muskles are; the other ende is made fast unto the belly of a rude masse or lumpe, which in time commeth to the shape and forme of a Bird: when it is perfectly formed, the shel gapeth open, and the first thing that appeereth is the foresaid lace or string; next come the legs of the Birde hanging out; and as it groweth greater, it openeth the shell by degrees, till at length it is all come foorth, and hangeth onely by the bill; in short space after it commeth to full maturitie, and falleth into the sea, where it gathereth feathers, and groweth to a foule, bigger then a Mallard, and lesser than a Goose.”

The fable of the Goose Tree was rejected in the later editions of Gerard’s ‘Herball,’ published after the author’s death. It reappears, however, late in the seventeenth century, in the ‘Historia Naturalis’ of John Jonston. The legend is of respectable antiquity, being found in various early chronicles. Sebastian Muenster, for example, in his ‘Cosmographia[21],’ printed at Basle in 1545, refers to it as recorded by previous writers, and figures a tree with pendent fruits, out of which geese are dropping into a lake or stream.

Hector Boethius [Boece] in his Scottish Chronicle gives a quaint account of the origin of geese from driftwood in the sea, “in the small boris and hollis” of which “growis small wormis. First thay schaw thair heid and feit, and last of all they schaw thair plum is and wyngis. Finally quhen thay ar cumyn to the iust mesure and quantite of geis, thay fle in the aire, as othir fowlis dois[22].”

It is rather surprising to find that William Turner was a believer in the same myth, although, unlike Gerard, he took great pains to satisfy himself of the truth of the story, which he seems to have approached with quite an open mind. His account is as follows:—

“When after a certain time the firwood masts or planks or yard-arms of a ship have rotted on the sea, then fungi, as it were, break out upon them first, in which in course of time one may discern evident forms of birds, which afterwards are clothed with feathers, and at last become alive and fly. Now lest this should seem fabulous to anyone, besides the common evidence of all the long-shore men of England, Ireland, and Scotland, that renowned historian Gyraldus, ... bears witness that the generation of the Bernicles is none other than this. But inasmuch as it seemed hardly safe to trust the vulgar and by reason of the rarity of the thing I did not quite credit Gyraldus, ... I took counsel of a certain man, whose upright conduct, often proved by me, had justified my trust, a theologian by profession and an Irishman by birth, Octavian by name, whether he thought Gyraldus worthy of belief in this affair. Who, taking oath upon the very Gospel which he taught, answered that what Gyraldus had reported of the generation of this bird was absolutely true, and that with his own eyes he had beholden young, as yet but rudely formed, and also handled them, and, if I were to stay in London for a month or two, that he would take care that some growing chicks should be brought in to me[23].”

The Goose Tree is also figured by de l’Obel and d’Aléchamps, but it is refreshing to find that Colonna in his ‘Phytobasanos’ (1592) flatly denies the truth of the legend.

The importance of Gerard’s ‘Herball’ in the history of botany is chiefly due to an improved edition, brought out by Thomas Johnson in 1633, thirty-six years after the work was originally published. Johnson was an apothecary in London, and cultivated a physic garden on Snow Hill. His first botanical work was a short account of the plants collected by members of the Apothecaries’ Company on an excursion in Kent. This is of interest as being the earliest memoir of the kind published in England. Later on, descriptions of botanical tours in the west of England, and in Wales, appeared from his pen. But it is as the editor of Gerard that he is chiefly remembered. He greatly enlarged the ‘Herball,’ and illustrated it with Plantin’s wood-cuts. His edition contained an account of no less than 2850 plants. Johnson also corrected numerous errors, and the whole work, transformed by him, rose to a much higher grade of value. It was reprinted, without alteration, in 1636.

When the Civil Wars broke out, Johnson, who is said to have been a man of great personal courage, joined the Royalists. He took an active part in the defence of Basing House, and received a shot wound during the siege, from which he died.

John Parkinson (1567-1650) may be regarded as the last British herbalist, of the period we are considering, whose work was of any great interest from the botanical point of view. His portrait is shown in Plate XIII. Like Gerard and Johnson, he cultivated a famous garden in London. In these days of bricks and mortar, it is hard to realise that gardens of such importance flourished in Holborn, Snow Hill, and Long Acre respectively. Another important London garden of the period was that at Lambeth, belonging to John Tradescant, gardener to Charles I.

Parkinson became apothecary to James I and botanist to Charles I. The earlier of the two books, by which he is remembered, was rather of the nature of a gardening work than of a herbal. It appeared in 1629 under the title, ‘Paradisi in Sole Paradisus Terrestris. A Garden of all sorts of pleasant flowers which our English ayre will permitt to be noursed up ... together With the right orderinge planting and preserving of them and their uses and vertues.’ It has lately become accessible in the form of a facsimile reprint. The words “Paradisi in Sole” form a pun upon the author’s name, and may be translated “Of park-in-sun.” The book was dedicated to Queen Henrietta Maria, with the prayer that she will accept “this speaking Garden.”

The preface to this work is entirely at variance with the idea that scientific knowledge has only been gradually acquired by the human race. In Parkinson’s words:—“God, the Creator of Heaven and Earth, at the beginning when he created _Adam_, inspired him with the knowledge of all naturall things (which successively descended to _Noah_ afterwardes, and to his Posterity): for, as he was able to give names to all the living Creatures, according to their severall natures; so no doubt but hee had also the knowledge, both what Herbes and Fruits were fit, eyther for Meate or Medicine, for Use or for Delight.”

Elaborate directions for the planting and treatment of a garden precede an account of a large number of plants cultivated at that time, with some mention of their uses. The book is illustrated with full-page wood engravings of no great merit, in each of which a number of different plants are represented (Text-fig. 55 is taken from part of one illustration). The figures are partly original and partly copied from the books of de l’Écluse, de l’Obel and others.

In 1640, Parkinson followed up this work with a much larger volume, dealing with plants in general, and called the ‘Theatrum botanicum: The Theater of Plants. Or, an Herball of a Large Extent.’ He complains that the publication of the work has been delayed, partly through the “disastrous times,” but chiefly through the machinations of “wretched and perverse men.” According to the preface to the ‘Paradisus Terrestris,’ the author’s original idea was merely to supplement his description of the Flower Garden by an account of “A Garden of Simples.” This scheme grew into one of a more extensive and general nature, but without losing the predominant medical interest, which would have characterised the work as originally planned. In accordance with this intention, the virtues of the herbs are dealt with in great detail.

Parkinson’s herbal is in some ways an improvement on that of Johnson and Gerard. Almost the whole of Bauhin’s ‘Pinax’ is incorporated, with the result that the account of the nomenclature of each plant becomes very full and detailed. Many of de l’Obel’s manuscript notes are also inserted. The scheme of classification adopted is, however, markedly inferior to that of de l’Obel.

Occasionally, in spite of his comparatively late date, Parkinson displays an imagination that is truly mediæval. He is eloquent on the subject of that rare and precious commodity, the horn of the Unicorn, which is a cure for many bodily ills. He describes the animal as living “farre remote from these parts, and in huge vast Wildernesses among other most fierce and wilde beasts.” He discusses, also, the use of the powder of mummies as a medicine, and his description is enlivened with a picture of an embalmed corpse.

The illustrations to the Theatrum Botanicum are of no importance, being chiefly copied from those of Gerard.

The great British botanists who follow next upon Parkinson, in point of time, are Robert Morison (b. 1620) and John Ray (b. 1627), but as their chief works appeared after the close of the period selected for special study in this book (1470-1670), and as they were botanists in the modern sense, rather than herbalists, we will not attempt any discussion of their writings.

While Morison and Ray were advancing the subject of Systematic Botany, Nehemiah Grew and the Italian, Marcello Malpighi, born respectively in 1641 and 1628, were laying the foundations of the science of Plant Anatomy. Their work, also, is outside the scope of the present book, and it is only mentioned at this point in order to show that the latter part of the seventeenth century witnessed a considerable revolution in the science. From this period onwards, with the opening up of new lines of inquiry, the importance of the herbal steadily declined, and though books which come under this heading were produced even in the nineteenth century, the day of their pre-eminence was over.

7. THE REVIVAL OF ARISTOTELIAN BOTANY.

The subject of Aristotelian botany scarcely comes within the scope of a book on Herbals, but, at the same time, it cannot be sharply separated from the botany of the herbalists. It therefore seems desirable to make a brief reference at this point to its chief sixteenth-century exponent, the Italian savant, Andrea Cesalpino (1519-1603), and to one or two other writers whose point of view was similar. We have already shown that, in the Middle Ages, Albertus Magnus carried on the tradition of Aristotle and Theophrastus. At the time of the Renaissance, there was again a revival of this aspect of the study, as well as of the branch with which we are here more immediately concerned, that, namely, which deals with plants from the standpoint of medicine and natural history. Cesalpino (Plate XIV), it is true, was largely concerned, like the herbalists, with the mere description of plants, but the fame of his great work, ‘De plantis libri XVI’ (1583), rests upon the first book, which contains an account of the theory of botany on Aristotelian lines.

Cesalpino’s strength lay in the fact that he took a remarkably broad view of the subject, and approached it as a trained thinker. He had learned the best lesson Greek thought had to offer to the scientific worker—the knowledge of _how_ to think. He had, however, the defects of his qualities, and his reverence for the classics led him into an inelastic and over literal acceptance of Aristotelian conceptions. The chief tangible contribution, which Cesalpino made to botanical science, was his insistence on the prime importance of the organs of fructification. This was the idea on which he chiefly laid stress in his system of classification, to which we shall return in a later chapter.

A botanist who had something in common with Cesalpino was the Bohemian author, Adam Zaluziansky von Zaluzian (1558-1613). His most important work was the ‘Methodi herbariæ libri tres,’ published at Prague in 1592. As a herbal it does not rank high, since Zaluziansky neither recorded any new plants, nor gave the Bohemian localities for those already known. But it opens with a survey of botany in general, which is of interest as showing an approach to the modern scientific standpoint, in so far as the author pleads for the treatment of botany as a separate subject, and not as a mere branch of medicine. His remarks on this point may be translated as follows:—“It is customary to connect Medicine with Botany, yet scientific treatment demands that we should consider each separately. For the fact is that in every art, theory must be disconnected and separated from practice, and the two must be dealt with singly and individually in their proper order before they are united. And for that reason, in order that Botany (which is, as it were, a special branch of Physics) may form a unit by itself before it can be brought into connection with other sciences, it must be divided and unyoked from Medicine.”

Guy de la Brosse, a French writer of the seventeenth century, discusses the souls of plants and related topics, quite in the manner of the Aristotelian school. In his book ‘De la Nature, Vertu, et Utilité des Plantes,’ dedicated to “Monseigneur le tres-illustre et le tres-reverand Cardinal Monseigneur le Cardinal de Richelieu,” he treats of variation within single species, the sensitiveness of plants, their chemistry and properties, and many other topics. His work is full of interest, but a discussion of it would lead us beyond the bounds of our present subject.