Nature Poetry by a Seventeenth Century Apothecary [February 2011 Update]

A bust of the famed physician, naturalist and collector Sir Hans Sloane.

I spent the day doing some desultory browsing of the British Library's  Sloane manuscript collection, and while it yielded little that I can actually use in my research, I did come across these poems.  Apparently written by one of Sir Hans Sloane's colleagues, the London apothecary and Royal Society fellow James Petiver (1663-1718), they appear in the midst of some memoranda on the natural history of the 'Indies' (Sloane 4020). A few are written on tiny scraps, as if they occurred to the author on the spur of the moment and he jotted them down on whatever he had at hand. Great poetry they're certainly not -- but I was charmed by them. At certain moments, such as in the final lines of "On the sealed tortoise," Petiver's attention to the tiny details of nature and his cynical tone even remind me a bit of Emily Dickinson. Other lines, such as his dark injunction to avoid "pine apples" because they "the Bloody-Flux produce," are a bit less elevated. Here's a selection: 

On the Indian serpent gecco

Such deadly poyson lyes within

This seagreene Lizards specled skin

That with more revengefull spite

It kills beyond our Acconite [?]

The divellish Indian knowes its force

& by it kills without remorse

Against their dartes dipt in this juice

There are noe Antidotes of use

The cursed Bassilisk which kills

By looks: to this in venome yeelds.

Of the swallow nestes which are eaten for a dainty in the Indyies

And why poore Progie[?] doest thou seeke

In such high cliffs & Rockes so steepe

To build thy nest - think’st thou thereby

To avoyde the Indians Luxury?

Noe noe: They’le haunt you out & eate

Your nests (because such dainty meate).

Of the China Cornill

This China Cornill cures outright

The fluxes, Red, Yellow & White

A[nd] thousands at their latest Breath

Hath releved from the Jawes of Death.

 On the sealed Tortoise

What Indian Monster’s this that dwells

Under a roof all thacked with shells

Both flesh and fish he is & preys

Now on the Land, now on the Seas

Thus doe the Parasites at Courte

Turn fish or Flesh of any sort

& as things there doe change their State

So they themselves Transpeciate.

Of the Pine Apple

Doe not yr Palates much provoke

With this sweete Indian Artichoke

Nor with their lushious strawberyes

For in them all their venome lyes.

By which lethiferous fatall juice

They will the Bloody-Flux produce.

Of Indian Vervine

The Indians say this Plant agrees

With ours in all its qualities

Our European old wives say

This herb is sacred: so say they

And both their dotages agree

It drives away all witchery

Who in yt Clime would think should grow

With it, the same opinion too.

February 2011 update: I know of no contemporary portraits of Petiver, but his more illustrious colleague Sir Hans Sloane (pictured above) gained a great deal of fame in his long and eventful lifetime. In addition to amassing the collections that would metamorphose into both the British Museum and British Library, Sloane won fame for his travelogue and natural history compendium of the West Indies, A Voyage to the Islands Madera, Barbadoes, Nieves, St. Christophers and Jamaica (London, 1707 and 1725) -- better known as the Natural History of Jamaica -- and his popular recipe for "drinking chocolate," which was still considered a medicinal remedy in the 18th century:

Those wishing to learn more about Petiver, Sloane and natural history should check out two excellent academic journal articles by historian colleagues: James Delbourgo's "'Exceeding the Age in Every Thing': Placing Sloane's Objects" (available here) and Anna Winterbottom's "Producing and using the Historical Relation of Ceylon: Robert Knox, the East India Company and the Royal Society" (here). Also, many thanks to Anna for sharing some more extracts from Petiver's poetry below!