This brief review of the history of botanical wood-cuts leads us to the conclusion that between 1530 and 1630, that is to say during the hundred years when the herbal was at its zenith, the number of sets of wood-engravings which were pre-eminent—either on account of their intrinsic qualities, or because they were repeatedly copied from book to book—was strictly limited. We might almost say that there were only five collections of wood-cuts of plants of really first-rate importance—those, namely, of Brunfels, Fuchs, Mattioli, and Plantin, with those of Gesner and Camerarius, all of which were published in the sixty years between 1530 and 1590. The wood-blocks of the two botanists last mentioned cannot be considered apart from one another; from the scientific point of view they show a marked advance, in the introduction of enlarged sketches of the flowers and fruit, in addition to the habit drawings. Plantin’s set included those blocks which were engraved for the herbals of de l’Obel, de l’Écluse, and the later works of Dodoens.
At the close of the sixteenth century, wood cutting on the Continent was distinctly on the wane, and had begun to be superseded by engraving on metal. The earliest botanical work, in which copper-plate etchings were used as illustrations, is said to be Fabio Colonna’s ‘Phytobasanos’ of 1592. These etchings, two of which are shown in Text-figs. [46] and [105], are on a small scale, but are extremely beautiful and accurate. The details of the flowers and fruit are often shown separately, the figures, in this respect, being comparable with those of Gesner and Camerarius, though, owing to their small size, they do not convey so much botanical information. In a later book of Colonna’s, the ‘Ekphrasis,’ analyses of the floral parts are given in even greater detail than in the ‘Phytobasanos.’ Colonna expressly mentions that he used wild plants as models wherever possible, because cultivation is apt to produce alterations in the form. The decorative border, surrounding each of the figures reproduced, was not printed from the copper.
In the seventeenth century, a large number of botanical books, illustrated by means of copper-plates, were produced. The majority of these were published late in the century, and thus scarcely come within our purview. A few of the earlier ones may, however, be referred to at this point. In 1611 Paul Renaulme’s ‘Specimen Historiæ Plantarum’ was published in Paris, but though this work was illustrated with good copper-plates, the effect was somewhat spoilt by the transparency of the paper. Two years later appeared the ‘Hortus Eystettensis,’ by Basil Besler, an apothecary of Nuremberg. It is a large work with enormous illustrations, mostly of mediocre quality. In the succeeding year, 1614, a book was published which has been described, probably with justice, as containing some of the best copper-plate figures of plants ever produced. This was the ‘Hortus Floridus’ of Crispian de Passe, a member of a famous family of engravers. Like Parkinson’s ‘Paradisus Terrestris,’ into which some of the figures are copied, it is more of the nature of a garden book than a herbal.
In 1615 an English edition of Crispian de Passe’s work was published at Utrecht, under the title of ‘A Garden of Flowers.’ The plates are the same as those in the original work. The artist is particularly successful with the bulbous and tuberous plants, the cultivation of which has long been such a specialty of Holland. Plate [XIX] is a characteristic example, but only part of the original picture is here reproduced. The soil on which the plants grow is often shown, and the horizon is placed very low, so that they stand up against the sky. This convention seems to have been characteristic, not only of the plant drawings of the Dutch artists, but also of their landscapes. In the paintings of Cuyp and Paul Potter, the sky-line is sometimes so low that it is seen between the legs of the cows and horses. This treatment was no doubt suggested by life in a flat country, but it was carried to such an extreme that the artist’s eye-level must have been almost on the ground!
Text-fig. 105. “Chondrilla” [Colonna, Phytobasanos, 1592].
The purchaser of ‘The Garden of Flowers’ receives detailed directions for the painting of the figures, which he is expected to carry out himself. The book is divided into four parts, appropriate to the four seasons, and each part is preceded by an encouraging verse intended to keep alive the owner’s enthusiasm for his task. The stanza at the beginning of the last section seems to show some anxiety on the part of the author, lest the reader should have begun to weary over the lengthy occupation of colouring the plates. It reads as follows:—
“If hethertoe (my frende) you have,
Performde the taske in hand: