he old herb lore. This gives the
Leech Book its special fascination; for it is the oldest surviving
manuscript in which we can learn the herb lore of our ancestors,
handed down to them from what dim past ages we can only surmise. We
have, therefore, to bear in mind that what may strike our modern minds
as quaint, or even grotesque, is in the majority of instances a
distorted form of lore which doubtless suffered many changes during
the early centuries of our era. Nearly all that is most fascinating in
the Leech Book is of very ancient Indo-Germanic or Eastern origin, but
one cannot help wondering how much the Saxons incorporated of the herb
lore of the ancient Britons. Does not Pliny tell us that the Britons
gathered herbs with such striking ceremonies that it would seem as
though the Britons had taught them to the Persians?

One cannot read Bald's manuscript without being struck by his
remarkable knowledge of native plants and garden herbs. We are
inferior to our continental neighbours in so many arts that it is
pleasant to find that in the ancient art of gardening and in their
knowledge of herbs our Saxon forefathers excelled. It has been pointed
out by eminent authorities that the Anglo-Saxons had names for, and
used, a far larger number of plants than the continental nations. In
the _Herbarium of Apuleius_, including the additions from Dioscorides,
only 185 plants are mentioned, and this was one of the standard works
of the early Middle Ages. In the _Herbarius_ of 1484, the earliest
herbal printed in Germany, only 150 plants are recorded, and in the
German _Herbarius_ of 1485 there are 380. But from various sources it
has been computed that the Anglo-Saxons had names for, and used, at
least 500 plants.[6] One feels instinctively that the love of flowers
and gardens was as deep-rooted in our ancestors as it is in our nation
to-day, and though we do not know exactly what they grew in their
gardens--which they called wyrt[gh]erd (literally, herb-yard)--we do
know that the marigolds, sunflowers, peonies, violets and
gilly-flowers which make the cottage gardens of England so gay and
full of colour to-day were also the commonest plants in the Saxon
gardens. Fashions in large gardens have changed throughout the
centuries, and there are stately gardens in this country famed the
world over. But in regard to our cottage gardens we are staunchly
conservative, and it is assuredly the cottage garden which is
characteristically