The Lasting Presence of Gerard's Herball

substance, being ready with the bad Painter to explain the imperfections of my
pencil with my pen, choosing rather to score upon my pictures such rude marks as
may describe my meaning, than to let the beholder to guess at random and miss.
VI. Gerard and me
Although I spent a great deal of time reading Gerard’s Herball as well as reading
about it, I did not really look at the book until the end of this project. I had already turned
every page at least twice, mostly looking at woodcuts and reading. I experienced the
thrill of looking at an image of Lotus ornithopodioides (possibly our L. corniculatus),
printed from a woodcut based on a drawing that dates to the first century before Christ.
At that moment I was sharing an observation over 2000 years old! What observations did
I have to share with someone else? I thought I was getting to know this work, but I felt
that I was missing something. Then I began trying to count signatures in the 1636
edition.
At first I made the mistake of trying to count the leaves in a gathering instead of
looking for signature markings. Sandra Kroupa eventually came to my aid, reminding
me about the way the book was put together. But before seeking her expertise, I
examined the book on my own. I found vertical chainlines on one of the free endsheets; I
found a small and delicate watermark on the other half, pasted to the cover. (The
watermark identifies the paper, and in this case indicates that the book was rebound
around 1750.) I was familiar with the musty smell of soil on the pages, but now I noticed
faint evidence of beautiful marbling on the top edge of the book.
But I couldn’t quite understand the way the gatherings were sewn together—I could
not see the threads. I found the threads of the headband, mistaking them for the threads
16