TITLE-PAGE OF PARKINSON’S “PARADISUS” (1629)
In his Theatrum Botanicum Parkinson describes the “Scythian Lamb,” and one gathers that he accepted the travellers’ tales about it. “This strange living plant as it is reported by divers good authors groweth among the Tartares about Samarkand and the parts thereabouts rising from a seede somewhat bigger and rounder than a Melon seede with a stalk about five palmes high without any leafe thereon but onely bearing a certaine fruit and the toppe in forme resembling a small lambe, whose coate or rinde is woolly like unto a Lambe’s skinne, the pulp or meat underneath, which is like the flesh of a Lobster, having it is sayed blood also in it; it hath the forme of an head hanging down and feeding on the grasse round about it untill it hath consumed it and then dyeth or else will perish if the grasse round about it bee cut away of purpose. It hath foure legges also hanging downe. The wolves much affect to feed on them.”
The preface to the Paradisus is singularly beautiful, being typical of the simple, devout-minded author, but it is too long to quote. The book itself is truly “a speaking garden,” a tranquil, spacious Elizabethan garden, full of the loveliness, colour and scent of damask, musk and many other roses; of lilies innumerable—the crown imperial, the gold and red lilies, the Persian lily (“brought unto Constantinople and from thence sent unto us by Mr. Nicholas Lete, a worthy Merchant and a lover of all faire flowers”), the blush Martagon, the bright red Martagon of Hungary and the lesser mountain lily. Of fritillaries of every sort—of which Parkinson tells us that “although divers learned men do by the name given unto this delightful plant think it doth in some things partake with a Tulipe or Daffodill; yet I, finding it most like unto a little Lilly, have (as you see here) placed it next unto the Lillies and before them.” Of gay tulips, which were amongst his special favourites—“But indeed this flower, above many other, deserveth his true commendations and acceptance with all lovers of these beauties, both for the stately aspect and for the admirable varietie of colour, that daily doe arise in them,”—and of which he had a collection such as would be the glory of any garden—the tulip of Caffa, the greater red Bolonia tulip, the tulip of Candie, the tulip of Armenia, the Fool’s Coat tulip, the Cloth of Silver tulip and others too numerous to mention. (“They are all now made denizens in our Gardens,” he joyously tells us, “where they yield us more delight and more increase for their proportion by reason of their culture, than they did unto their owne naturals”). Of daffodils, crocuses and hyacinths in boundless profusion, amongst which are to be noted many pleasing names that we no longer use. Of asphodels, “which doe grow naturally in Spaine and France and from thence were first brought unto us to furnish our Gardens.” Of many-coloured flags, which he calls by the prettier name of “flower de luce,” and amongst which he gives pride of place “for his excellent beautie and raretie to the great Turkie Flower de luce.” Of gladioli, cyclamen and anemones. Of the last-named he writes thus:—
“The Anemones likewise or Windeflowers are so full of variety and so dainty so pleasant and so delightsome flowers that the sight of them doth enforce an earnest longing desire in the mind of anyone to be a possessoure of some of them at the leaste. For without all doubt this one kind of flower, so variable in colours, so differing in form (being almost as many sortes of them double as single), so plentifull in bearing flowers and so durable in lasting and also so easie both to preserve and to encrease is of itselfe alone almost sufficient to furnish a garden with flowers for almost half the yeare. But to describe the infinite (as I may so say) variety of the colours of the flowers and to give each his true distinction and denomination it passeth my ability I confesse, and I thinke would grauell the best experienced in Europe.” (Nevertheless he writes of about fifty varieties.) Of fragrant crane’s-bills, bear’s-ears, primroses and cowslips. Of violets, borage, marigolds, campions, snapdragons, columbines and lark’s-heels (delphiniums). Of gillyflowers (why have we given up this old-fashioned English name?), and how pleasant is the mere reading of his list of varieties—“Master Bradshawe his daintie Ladie,” “Ruffling Robin,” “The Fragrant,” “The Red Hulo,” “John Witte his great tawny gillow flower,” “Lustie Gallant,” “The fair maid of Kent,” “The Speckled Tawny.” “But the most beautiful that ever I did see was with Master Ralph Tuggie,[93] the which gilliflower I must needes therefore call ‘Master Tuggies Princesse,’ which is the greatest and fairest of all these sorts of variable tawnies, being as large fully as the Prince or Chrystall, or something greater, standing comely and round, not loose or shaken, or breaking the pod as some other sorts will; the marking of the flower is in this manner: It is of a stamell colour, striped and marbled with white stripes and veines quite through every leafe, which are as deeply iagged as the Hulo: sometimes it hath more red then white, and sometimes more white then red, and sometimes so equally marked that you cannot discern which hath the mastery; yet which of these hath the predominance, still the flower is very beautifull and exceeding delightsome.” Of peonies, lupins, pinks, sea-holly and sweet-william. Of lilies of the valley, gentian, Canterbury bells, hollyhocks and mallows (“which for their bravery are entertained everywhere unto every countrey-woman’s garden”). Of foxgloves, goldilocks, valerian and mullein. Of cuckoo-flowers, “or Ladies smockes,” both the double and the trefoil. The first kind, Parkinson tells us, “is found in divers places of our owne Countrey as neere Micham about eight miles from London;” also in Lancashire, “from whence I received a plant, which perished, but was found by the industrie of a worthy Gentlewoman dwelling in those parts called Mistresse Thomasin Tunstall, a great lover of these delights. The other was sent me by my especiall good friend John Tradescant, who brought it among other dainty plants from beyond the seas, and imparted thereof a root to me.” Of clematis and candytufts, honeysuckles and jasmine. Of double-flowered cherries, apples and peaches. “The beautiful shew of these three sorts of flowers,” he says, “hath made me to insert them into this garden, in that for their worthinesse I am unwilling to bee without them, although the rest of their kindes I have transferred into the Orchard, where among other fruit trees they shall be remembered: for all these here set downe seldome or never beare any fruite, and therefore more fit for a Garden of flowers then an Orchard of fruite. These trees be very fit to be set by Arbours.”
In this garden of pleasant flowers we find also many fragrant herbs. “After all these faire and sweete flowers,” says Parkinson, “I must adde a few sweete herbes, both to accomplish this Garden, and to please your senses, by placing them in your Nosegayes, or elsewhere as you list. And although I bring them in the end or last place, yet they are not of the least account.” He writes first of rosemary, the common, the gilded, the broad-leaved and the double-flowered. Of rosemary he tells us: “This common Rosemary is so well knowne through all our Land, being in every woman’s garden, that it were sufficient but to name it as an ornament among other sweete herbes and flowers in our Garden. It is well observed, as well in this our Land (where it hath been planted in Noblemen’s, and great men’s gardens against brick wals, and there continued long) as beyond the Seas, in the naturall places where it groweth, that it riseth up in time unto a very great height, with a great and woody stemme (of that compasse that—being clouen out into thin boards—it hath served to make lutes, or such like instruments, and here with us Carpenters rules, and to divers other purposes), branching out into divers and sundry armes that extend a great way, and from them againe into many other smaller branches, whereon we see at several distances, at the ioynts, many very narrow long leaves, greene above, and whitish underneath, among which come forth towards the toppes of the stalkes, divers sweet gaping flowers of a pale or bleake blewish colour, many set together standing in whitish huskes ... although it will spring of the seede reasonable well, yet it is so small and tender the first yeare, that a sharpe winter killeth it quickly, unlesse it be very well defended; the whole plant as well leaves as flowers, smelleth exceeding sweete.” Of sage and of lavender both the purple and the rare white[94] (“there is a kinde hereof that beareth white flowers and somewhat broader leaves, but it is very rare and seene but in few places with us, because it is more tender, and will not so well endure our cold Winters”). “Lavender,” he says, “is almost wholly spent with us, for to perfume linnen, apparell, gloues and leather and the dryed flowers to comfort and dry up the moisture of a cold braine.” Of French lavender (“the whole plant is somewhat sweete, but nothing so much as Lavender). It groweth in the Islands Staechades which are over against Marselles and in Arabia also: we keep it with great care in our Gardens. It flowreth the next yeare after it is sowne, in the end of May, which is a moneth before any Lavender.” Of lavender cotton, of which he writes: “the whole plant is of a strong sweete sent, but not unpleasant, and is planted in Gardens to border knots with, for which it will abide to be cut into what forme you think best, for it groweth thicke and bushy, very fit for such workes, besides the comely shew the plant it selfe thus wrought doth yeeld, being alwayes greene and of a sweet sent.” Of basil, “wholly spent to make sweet or washing waters, among other sweet herbes, yet sometimes it is put into nosegayes. The Physicall properties are to procure a cheerfull and merry heart”; and marjoram, “not onely much used to please the outward senses in nosegayes and in the windowes of houses, as also in sweete pouders, sweete bags, and sweete washing waters.” Of all the varieties of thyme and hyssop—and of the white hyssop he writes that its striped leaves “make it delightfull to most Gentlewomen.” Hyssop, he tells us further, “is used of many people in the Country to be laid unto cuts or fresh wounds, being bruised, and applyed eyther alone, or with a little sugar.” “And thus,” he concludes this part of the book, “have I led you through all my Garden of Pleasure, and shewed you all the varieties of nature housed therein, pointing unto them and describing them one after another. And now lastly (according to the use of our old ancient Fathers) I bring you to rest on the Grasse, which yet shall not be without some delight, and that not the least of all the rest.”
From his garden of pleasant flowers he leads us to the kitchen garden, full not only of “vegetables” as we understand the term, of strawberries, cucumbers and pompions, but also of a vast number of herbs in daily use, many of them never seen in modern gardens. Besides the familiar thyme, balm, savory, mint, marjoram, and parsley, there are clary, costmary, pennyroyal, fennel, borage, bugloss, tansy, burnet, blessed thistle, marigolds, arrach, rue, patience, angelica, chives, sorrel, smallage, bloodwort, dill, chervil, succory, purslane, tarragon, rocket, mustard, skirrets, rampion, liquorice and caraway. But according to Parkinson they used fewer herbs in his day than in olden times; for under pennyroyal we find, “The former age of our great-grandfathers had all these pot herbes in much and familiar use, both for their meates and medicines, and therewith preserved themselves in long life and much health: but this delicate age of ours, which is not pleased with anything almost, be it meat or medicine, that is not pleasant to the palate, doth wholly refuse these almost, and therefore cannot be partaker of the benefit of them.” From the kitchen garden with all these herbs, “of most necessary uses for the Country Gentlewomen’s houses,” he leads us, finally, to the orchard, with its endless varieties of apple and pear trees, of cherries, medlars, plums, “apricockes” and nectarines, of figs and peaches and almonds, of quinces, walnuts, mulberries and vines (ending with the Virginian vine, of which he says, “we know of no use but to furnish a Garden and to encrease the number of rarities”), until, like the Queen of Sheba, we feel that, with all we have heard of the comfortable splendour of Elizabeth’s reign, the half has not been told us. “And thus,” Parkinson concludes, “have I finished this worke, and furnished it with whatsoever Art and Nature concurring could effect to bring delight to those that live in our Climate and take pleasure in such things; which how well or ill done, I must abide every one’s censure; the iudicious and courteous I onely respect, let Momus bite his lips and eate his heart; and so Farewell.”
Parkinson’s monumental work, Theatrum Botanicum, was completed, as already mentioned, in his seventy-third year. In it about 3800 plants are described (nearly double the number of those in the first edition of Gerard’s Herbal). In the Theatrum he incorporated nearly the whole of Bauhin’s Pinax, besides part of the unfinished work by de l’Obel mentioned before. The book remained the most complete English treatise on plants until the time of Ray. Parkinson originally intended to entitle it “A Garden of Simples”[95] and, had he done so, it is at least possible that this work, to which he devoted the greater part of his life, would have achieved the popularity it deserved. Except in the illustrations, it is a finer book than Gerard’s, but the latter remained the more popular. In fact, this herbal of Parkinson’s is an outstanding proof that a good book may be ruined by a bad title. Theatrum Botanicum sounds hard and chilling, whereas Gerard’s Herball has an attractive ring. The fact that the former never attained the popularity achieved by the latter seems the more pathetic when we read the author’s own concluding charge to this work of his lifetime:—“Goe forth now therefore thou issue artificial of mine and supply the defect of a Naturall, to beare up thy Father’s name and memory to succeeding ages and what in thee lyeth effect more good to thy Prince and Country then numerous of others, which often prove rather plagues then profits thereto, and feare not the face of thy fiercest foe.”
The ornamental title-page of the Theatrum Botanicum is both interesting and impressive. The two most important figures are those of Adam and Solomon (representing Toil and Wisdom respectively). Solomon is dressed in a long coat with an ermine cape, and he wears Roman sandals. At the four corners of the page are female figures:—Europe driving majestically in a chariot with a pair of horses; Asia clad in short skirts and shoes with curled points and riding a rhinoceros; Africa wearing only a hat, and mounted upon a zebra; and America, also unclothed, carrying a bow and arrow and riding a sheep with surprisingly long ears. Each of these figures is surrounded by specimens of the vegetation of their respective continents.
It is curious to find in the dedicatory letter to Charles I. a touch of the old belief that diseases are due to evil spirits:—