harde and some ryght
soure and some ryght swete, with a good savoure and mery." The
descriptions of celandine and broom are also characteristic.
"Celidonia is an herbe w{t} yelowe floures, the frute smorcheth them
that it towchyth. And hyghte Celidonia for it spryngeth, other
blomyth, in the comynge of swalowes.... It hy[gh]t celidonia for it
helpith swallowes birdes yf their eyen be hurte other (or) blynde."
"Genesta hath that name of bytterness for it is full of bytter to
mannes taste. And is a shrubbe that growyth in a place that is
forsaken, stony and untylthed. Presence thereof is wytnesse that the
grounde is bareyne and drye that it groweth in. And hath many
braunches knotty and hard. Grene in wynter and yelowe floures in somer
thyche [the which] wrapped with heuy smell and bitter sauour. And ben
netheles moost of vertue." Bartholomew gives the old mandrake legend
in full, though he adds, "it is so feynd of churles others of
wytches," and he also writes of its use as an anaesthetic.[42] Further,
he records two other beliefs about the mandrake which I have never
found in any other English herbal--namely, that while uprooting it one
must beware of contrary winds, and that one must go on digging for it
until sunset. "They that dygge mandragora be besy to beware of
contrary wyndes whyle they digge. And maken circles abowte with a
swerder and abyde with the dyggynge unto the sonne goynge downe."

But apart from herbs and their uses, the book _De herbis_ is full of
fleeting yet vigorous pictures of the homely everyday side of mediaeval
life. Bartholomew, being one of the greatest men of his century,
writes of matters in which the simplest of us are interested. He
tells us of the feeding of swine with acorns. Of the making and baking
of bread (including the thrifty custom of mixing cooked beans with the
flour "to make the brede the more hevy"). Incidentally, and with all
due respect, it may be remarked that he had no practical knowledge of
this subject, his vivid description being obviously that of an
interested spectator. There is an airy masculine vagueness about the
conclusion of the whole matter of bread-making--"and at last after
many travailes, man's lyfe is fedde and sustained therewith." He tells
us of the use of laurel leaves to heal bee and wasp stings and to keep
books and clothes from "moths and other worms," of the making of
"fayre images" and of boxes wherein to keep "spycery" from the wood of
the box-tree