The Father of Modern Botany: Hieronymus Bock’s Journey Through German Gardens and Herbs
This botanical history post was featured on The Daily Gardener podcast:
February 21, 1554
Dearest reader,
On this day, the world of gardening suffered the loss of Hieronymus Bock, the German botanist, physician, and Lutheran minister who gently drew botany out of medieval shadows and set it on the path to modern science.
Bock—Latinized as Tragus (“Trah-goos”)—tended the storied gardens of Count Palatine Ludwig for nearly a decade, his efforts as much a labor of love as a scholarly calling.
Through walks across the German empire, Bock became one of the earliest “true field botanists,” venturing into nature to know her firsthand, not merely through the words of others. Is it not a gardener’s deepest wish to be so close to the earth, every green detail observed, every fragrant leaf part of a story?
What sets Bock apart is his courage to defy and redefine.
In his influential Kreutterbuch (“plant book”), he refused to simply follow the ancient Greek Dioscorides, instead crafting his own system and personally describing over seven hundred plants—with thoughtful details on name, use, and habitat. Later editions featured woodcuts by artist David Kandel, bringing the beauty of German flora vividly to life. Bock’s descriptive records ushered in the era of botanical “phytography,” a way of seeing plants not just as medicine or food, but as complex wonders, each with its story to tell.
One must wonder: what tales do the plants in one’s own garden hold, waiting only for a careful eye?
Though he wore many hats—physician, teacher, gardener, pastor—Bock’s passion for inquiry endured alongside his faith. He coined the celebrated name “Riesling” in the wine world, first documented in his Latin herbal in 1552, ensuring that not only plants but also vines and vintages echo his legacy. His name endures in both grass and spurge: Tragus and Tragia, tributes blooming quietly in fields and forests far from Hornbach, where Bock died at the age of 56.
What carries forward is the gentle authority of a man who found God and knowledge in gardens, who chose observation over dogma, and who cataloged the hidden treasures of the fields for all future seekers.
How wistful that so much of Bock’s life remains unclear, just as some flowers slip beyond the reach of memory. In your own garden wanderings, might you pause to honor Bock—to see, to catalog, and, most of all, to cherish what grows beneath your feet?
