Author: Kerry Reed

John M Dixon is a historian of early America and the early modern Atlantic world. He currently works as an assistant professor at the College of Staten Island. His research interests include intellectual and cultural history, the enlightenment, New York history and Jewish history. His prize-winning 2016 work, The Enlightenment of Cadwallader Colden: Empire, Science, and Intellectual Culture in British New York, explores the intellectual, cultural, and social settings of 18^th century British New York. Dixon uses Cadwallader Colden, a conservative member of the intellectual elite in colonial New York, as the vehicle to drive his narrative. From issues concerning the use of print culture for science and politics, to discourse surrounding Newtonian or Berkleyian thoughts on active matter and gravity, Dixon shows that the Enlightenment in the American colonies was far from the radical hotbed popular narratives depict it as.

The Enlightenment of Cadwallader Colden is separated into three parts; the first two parts have three chapters, and the last has two. Dixon’s work, far from being a biography of Colden, approaches the intellectual and political milleu of transatlantic British imperialism chronologically, using the life of Colden to guide the reader through the changes to intellectual and political culture throughout Colden’s life. Dixon makes excellent use of epistolary evidence, as well as evidence from intellectuals publications, and pamphlets from popular political movements to present his arguments. In essence, Dixon asserts that the liberal enlightenment so often manifested in figures like Franklin and the Sons of Libery in historiography has overlooked a significant conservative and royalist element present in the colonies even at the eve of the American revolution.

Chapter 1 follows Colden during a period of rapid change in Scotland. During his formative years Colden witnessed a rabid theological politicization of British intellectual developments stemming from figures like Newton and Boyle. Colden’s father, a presbytarian minister, used connections with minor nobility to give Colden a minister’s education. It was here, in a university climate of rapid change and rabid discourse, that Colden became enamored with science, natural philosophy, and medicine, ultimately forgoing his father’s wishes and moving to London to practice as a physician despite no formal medical training. This shift from potential minister to failed physician is endemic in late 17^th and early 18^th British culture, as young men like Colden who endeavored to build wealth and fame, saw the enlightenment as a progression of humanity towards a more civil, intelligent, and moral state.

Chapter two follows Colden as he builds his transatlantic communication network before he ultimately decides to settle in Manhatten, an area he considered to be the locus of high-minded intellectualism in the colonies. Many of Colden’s contacts both in the colonies and in the British isles were fellow Scots, who took advantage of the benefits of the 1707 unification. Despite his failings as a physician in London (which Colden attributed to elitism and snobbery), Colden was able to perform quite well as a physician in the colonies, becoming quite renowned for his practice in Philadelphia. Colden’s success at medicine is indicative of the breadth of intellectual pursuits of both colonial and British gentlemen during the early 18^th century enlightenment. Medicine, botany, natural history, mathematics, and philosophy were all seen as intimately related, and discussions such as these frequently permeated into theology as well.

Chapter three concerns Colden’s time spent in New York as a young man. Colden’s efforts to establish himself as colonial gentlemen were far more successful than his efforts in London. This chapter concerns Colden’s successful attempt to integrate himself within the Colonial government of New York, an endeavor that ultimately succeeded after he was appointed surveyor general by Governor William Burnett, a protégé of Newton and a man engrossed in the transatlantic intellectual milieu of the early 18^th century. Burnett played a large part in invigorating the scholarly and intellectual pursuits past the colonial borders and throughout the transatlantic British world. New York politics and intellectualism blended during Burnett’s tenure as governor, and has a lasting impact on Colden, who would adhere to this style of conservative modernist enlightenment ideology for the rest of his life.

Chapter four discusses British concerns surrounding French expansionism, the importance of cartography to imperial success and colonial security, and the political relationship between the colonies and the Haudenosaunee. Colden’s history of the Haudenosaunee, History of the Five Indian Nations, became a work of great interest to London’s board of trade and the greater objectives of Britain’s expansionism in the early part of the 18th century. Despite being a work produced to critique the political situation in New York, Colden’s History was his most disseminated work and earned him a reputation as an authority on Indian affairs and policy. Though Dixon provides little textual evidence of Colden’s work, readers to get to see how information disseminated from the colonies to Europe through exchange networks, gifts, and a knowledge production system uniquely transatlantic. Though current readers might immediately see the issues with Colden’s History, it was so well regarded in Europe that it even was referenced in Diderot’s reference to the Iroquois in the Encylopedie.

Chapter five is one of the more interesting chapters in Dixon’s work. Titled “Otium” this chapter explores the philosophies behind the cultural image of the colonial intellectual elite. Inspired by neo-Stoic ideals of rural environments being the ideal laboratories for high intellectualism, colonial intellectuals self-fashioned themselves in the neo-Stoic fashion to give their intellectual publications more merit in the transatlantic scientific community. In addition, this chapter goes into great detail about the theological and philosophical implications of Newtonian thought, with Colden straddling materialist and immaterialist positions as he published polemic mathematical and philosophical musings against Berkleyianism and other anti-Newtonian schools of thought. Colden’s effort to secure prominence within the intellectual transatlantic community took the form of a work on theories of matter and gravity, The Principles of Action in Matter, though this was not well received by European intelligentsia. Colden complained bitterly in letters to his network that European snobbery was to blame for the lack of reception for his publication, but the earlier reception of his Indian history shows that European scholars were not hostile toward colonial knowledge production. This duality in Colden’s publications shows that transatlantic knowledge production was a collaborative effort between colonials and Europeans.

Chapter six concerns Colden’s efforts to secure prominence within the intellectual transatlantic community, which took the form of a work on theories of matter and gravity, The Principles of Action in Matter, though this was not well received by European intelligentsia. Colden complained bitterly in letters to his network that European snobbery was to blame for the lack of reception for his publication, but the earlier reception of his Indian history shows that European scholars were not hostile toward colonial knowledge production. This duality in Colden’s publications shows that transatlantic knowledge production was a collaborative effort between colonials and Europeans.

Chapter seven discusses the politics of New York in the two decades leading up to the American revolution. Partisanship was rife within New York during this time, and Colden was quick to defend the conservative, modern enlightenment principles he cherished against what he viewed as an upstart, illegitimate enlightenment championed by lawyers and pamphleteers. This chapter also details how colonial elite intellectual culture had widened political divisions in the mid-18th century, with crown appointed officials and agents being characterized as intrusive and obstructive by local colonial politics.

Chapter eight focuses on Colden during the end of his life, when he was the de facto governor of New York in the immediate years before the revolution. By this time New York has become a cultural center for the colonies, with Shakespeare being put on in local theaters and intellectual elites appraised of all transatlantic developments. The development of New York made it a essential locale for British imperialism in the Americas, but this had the effect of making it a hotbed of revolutionary fervor. Polemics and journals heaped criticism onto Colden and the governors that preceded him, with mobs burning effigies of Colden in the streets and threatening violence against the lt. governor. The radical enlightenment displayed in the activities of the Sons of Liberty was a far-cry from the conservative intellectualism Colden had tried to foster in the colonies.

Dixon’s work is an excellent history that quite rightly elucidates the discrepancy between narratives of colonial enlightenment and how it was perceived by colonial actors. The discussions of cultural development and intellectual history are well received, as are the several instances where Dixon points out the gender and socioeconomic issues surrounding colonial knowledge production. Far too often, narratives about American colonial enlightenment are presented as teleological, so it was refreshing to see a good history rebuke these arguments with such an important figure as Colden.

Of course, there is still much to be desired. While ostensibly a history of Science, The Enlightenment of Cadwallader Colden contains much more theorizing and scientia than historia and experimentation. In fact, the experimentation we do see in the work is merely directed by Colden, with his slaves and laborers actually performing the experiment. Colden’s lack of experimenting is contrasted with Benjamin Franklin, who is noted in the work as doing many hands on experiments himself, though no doubt the same gender and socioeconomic critiques levied here against Colden likely apply to Franklin as well, just at a lower level of intensity. Certainly, Dixon’s book can be read as a history of colonial scientific thought, but Colden’s lackluster theorizing and scant experimentation leave more to be desired for me to call this a history of science, though cultural and intellectual history definitions are much more appropriate.

Andres I Prieto is a associate professor at the University of Colorado-Boulder where he teaches Spanish and Portuguese advanced composition. He received his Phd in 2006 from the University of Connecticut. His recent works include include “Confessing to be an Indian: Penance and the Creation of a Native Self in José de Acosta’s Missiology,” and “From the Devil’s Herb to Saint Thomas’ Gift: The Christianization of Guarani Sacred Plants in the Jesuit Reductions in Paraguay.” His 2011 work, Missionary Scientists: Jesuit Science in Spanish South America, 1570-1810, discusses the rise of the Society of Jesus in colonial South America. In particular, Prieto’s work concerns the unique mix between religion, missionary work, science, and colonial culture. An insightful work, Prieto has produced a substantially well-researched piece of scholarship that is much welcomed by history of science and colonial Latin America scholars.

Prieto’s work is surrounds examinations of case studies, these being the natural history publications produced by Jesuits during or immediately after their missionary work in Spanish South America. The book has eight chapters organized into three parts. These case studies proceed chronologically, beginning with the highly influential publication by Jose de Acosta shortly after the Jesuits arrived in Peru in 1568, and concluding with two Jesuit writers (Ovalle and Rosale) who wrote natural histories of Chile toward the end of the 17th century. In between, Prieto chronicles the change in Jesuit methodology, missionary practices, pedagogical focus, and indigenous-missionary relationships. For those readers more interested in the religious climate and influences that surrounded the Jesuits knowledge production, chapters 4,5, and 6 offer an incredibly detailed into the cosmology and pedagogical foundations of Jesuit practices in the New World. For those who are more interested in the production of colonial natural history in the early modern period, chapters 1,2,3 and 8 are where one can find discussions of the scientific enterprise more in-line with current historiography about the scientific revolution. The audience for this work is most likely those already familiar with colonial structure or the history of science in general, as the book does not go into great detail about scientific practice outside of the Jesuits religious methodology.

Chapter one explores the early tensions between the Jesuits and colonial governments in the second half of the 16th century. The Jesuits, preferring to fulfill a pedagogical rather than pastoral role in South America, had a contentious relationship with colonial administration, who preferred that the Jesuits take up spiritual curatorial duties in the doctrinas (read encomiendas). This push toward missionary responsibility was meet with initial refusal on the part of the Jesuits, who preferred to teach at their colleges in urban centers, until Jose de Acosta convinced the order that their mission would be better served if they took up the evangelization of indigenous peoples. The result of this was a Spanish empire spanning correspondence and collaboration network which aided the Jesuits in their research of the natural world, which in turn would bring greater glory to god.

In chapter two Pietro discusses the natural history research conducted by the Jesuits and how their scientific inquiries aided in their evangelization efforts. Many of the natural histories written by Jesuits during this time read like herbals, focusing on specific flora that had a medical or economic benefit to the reynos of South America. A more pragmatic reason for the Jesuits concern with indigenous medicine was their competition with  native shaman (machi) for influence over indigenous tribes, and to a greater extent, to police the religious practices of the indigenous communities that they oversaw. The Jesuits were exceedingly overbearing in their efforts to discredit the cosmology and healing practices of indigenous peoples, not only because serving as physicians gave the Jesuits a formidable position of power within indigenous society, but also because the lack of theorizing behind indigenous medicine made the Jesuits see indigenous healing practices as demonic.

Chapter three concerns this “demonic” healing practiced by indigenous peoples, and how the Jesuits deconstructed indigenous healing practices and pharmacopeia into a European framework, subsequently claiming the flora of South America for Christian purposes instead of indigenous purposes. The root of their disbelief and discrediting of indigenous healing lay in the cosmological origins of indigenous medical beliefs. By reframing indigenous knowledge (read extracting) into European medical theory, Jesuits could legitimize the use of indigenous flora and medicine and introduce indigenous pharmacopeia into European and Christian philosophical and theological frameworks.

Chapter four concerns the developing methodology of Jesuits in the New World. This chapter follows the Jesuit missionary Bernabe Cobo as he spends his life traveling around South America and Mexico compiling his natural history, Historia del Nuevo Mundo. Prieto uses the case of Cobo to argue that by the early decades of the 17th century the Jesuit presence in South America and Mexico had evolved into a collaborative enterprise, with figures such as Cobo conducting research in Jesuit archives and in the field as they evangelized the native population. The structure of the Jesuits in South America offered a uniquely collaborative opportunity for researches such as Cobo, who used the litany of archives, fellow Jesuits, and time spent in different locales to produce a truly collaborative natural history. The international dynamic of the Society of Jesus also allowed for collaboration not only with Jesuits of the new world, but also with the old, turning the scientific enterprise of New World Jesuits into a transoceanic endeavor.

Chapter five discusses the engagement New World Jesuits had in the knowledge production on the international and local levels. Following an Italian missionary (Nicolo Mascardi) as he evangelizes and corresponds with his superiors in Europe, Prieto shows that Jesuit natural history research not only informed local knowledge, but also informed European knowledge, as the Italian Jesuit conducted extensive astronomical observations at the behest of renowned Jesuit Scholars in Europe such as Kircher and Nieremberg.

In chapter six, Prieto takes a deep dive in the theological and philosophical underpinnings of Jose de Acosta’s Historia Natural y Moral de las Indias. This chapter touches upon the devlopment of Jesuit and Christian cosmology at the time when Acosta was writing his work, in particular discussing how the Jesuits methodology was influenced by Scholasticism, Aristotelian Philosophy, and natural magic. Acosta’s methodology was informed by the Aristotelian ‘why’, which manifested itself in Acosta’s work with a focus on scientia and god as the final cause for the difference and uniqueness of the natural world. To quote Prieto, “the Aristotelian manner of inquiry about nature, with its implicit link between the questioning mind and the answering world, was consistent with the Jesuit anthropocentric view of the world, (162). For Acosta, the study of nature revealed the majesty of god by showing the limitations of human rationality, hence the underlying cause for nature and the occult forces so discussed in contemporary scientific circles being attributed to god in Acosta’s work. Natural history, then, to 16th century Jesuits was about displaying the majesty of god, while moral history (human history) concerned the movement toward salvation. To Acosta, the description of the New world fulfilled both of these purposes.

Chapter seven contrasts Acosta’s work with Cobo’s. In particular, this chapter concerns the devloping methodology of Jesuit natural historians since Acosta’s time on the continent. While Acosta wished to compare the New and Old worlds, Cobo endeavored to show the uniqueness of the New world by playing close attention to indigenous nomenclature, taxonomy, and ecology contamination brought about by colonization. While Acosta thought that in-depth knowledge about nature was sinful, Cobo believed that examining nature could lead to a greater understanding of god’ majesty. Here we can see a slight break from the scholastic tradition of Acosta to the slight humanistic approach of Cobo.

Chapter eight touches again on methodology. In this chapter Pietro discusses how natural history of the New World, particularly Chile, served a proto-nationalistic function as the New World came under attack by European scholars. The two methodologies in this chapter, Ovalle’s and Rosale’s, vary in their attribution and description of the wonders of the new world, with Rosale focusing more on the flora indigenous peoples rather than the examples of wonders and miracles supposedly present in the New World that Ovalle touches upon, but both serve to highlight the uniqueness of the flora and people of South America.

Missionary Scientists does an extraordinary job of focusing the contributions of Jesuits to early modern science. Prieto makes incredible use of Jesuit publications and correspondence to present his case studies, in the process firmly placing the Jesuits in the scientific enterprise of the early modern period. In addition, this book is a much-welcomed entry into HIST 635 examination of natural history in the early modern period. It is refreshing to see that contemporaries of Sloane paid more attention to indigenous peoples, even if these actors were trying to disrupt their mode of living.

This work goes into more detail about the religious motivations of the examined scientists than perhaps any book we have read so far in this class. In particular, the examination of the influence of scholasticism and Aristotelian philosophy was much welcomed. Though many of the figures we have examined so far have come from protestant nations, Prieto’s discussion of the influence of Aquinas and Augustus on science in the 15th and 16th centuries (albeit in this instance in catholic circumstances) provides a great amount of insight into the theological undertones that permeated scientific inquiry in the early modern period.

There is a lot to say about the treatment of indigenous peoples in this work. Certainly, it is my personal belief that any history dealing with the colonization of indigenous peoples in such close proximity to its inquiry needs to attach at least some discussion of postcolonial theory. This was not present in any meaningful fashion in Prieto’s work beyond cursory acknowledgments of the uniqueness of indigenous cultures and cosmologies. Prieto can be forgiven for this omission, however, since his work provides a great amount of insight into the exploitation and evangelization of indigenous peoples, even if it is not touched upon in his work. A great deal of discussion could be had, and is occurring in the current discourse, about the indigenous medical practices and indigenous knowledge production and whether these native endeavors should be recognized as science, but since this is a work concerning a unique institution operating within the colonial framework, an in-depth discussion about indigenous knowledge production would likely have deterred from the authors goal of situating Jesuit scholars in the center of early modern scientific inquiry.

It is surprising, however, that for a work that is ostensibly about early modern science, how little science is actually discussed or examined. Though it is clear Prieto thoroughly examined these Jesuit’s writings, apparently doing most of the translations himself, no descriptions of flora by these Jesuits make it into the work. Personally, this seems a glaring omission, especially considering some of the other texts we have examined that go into excruciating detail about scientific practice.

Personally, I enjoyed this book very much. As someone who studies Latin America, Missionary Scientists gave me much insight into the evangelizing process, and the cultural function the Society of Jesus played in the Spanish colonial venture.

Anita Guerrini is a historian of science and medicineat Oregon State University, where she holds the history department’s emeritus chair. She recieved her PhD from Indiana University in History and Philosophy of Science and has produced and collaborated on numerous works concerning the history of science. Her 2015 work, The Courtiers’ Anatomists, was awarded the Pfizer Prize in 2018.  She is currently researching the history of the human skeleton and the role of science in early modern European nationalism.

The Courtiers’ Anatomists concerns the intersection between animal dissection and vivisection and the developing experimental method in Paris from 1645 to 1715. Guerrini’s work explores the dissection efforts of academicians at the Academy of Sciences in Paris, in the process showing how anatomy and dissection were influenced by and a part of natural history in the 17th century. In particular, The Courtiers’ Anatomists highlights the vague distinction between ancients and modern in regards to scientific practice, showing how Parisian academicians straddled the worlds of ancient knowledge and groundbreaking anatomical discovery as they strove to learn the innerworkings of the human body and soul through the dissection and vivisection of common and exotic animals supplied from the menageries of the Sun King himself.

Guerrini organizes her 6 chapters chronologically, as she takes us from the fragmented dissection practices of surgeons, physicians, and anatomists in the beginning of the 17th century to the end of the 17th century, chronicling the rise of a royal institution dedicated to modern discovery and intimately situated in the cultural milieu of Parisian and courtly society. Chapter one introduces the reader to the anatomy scene in Paris in the early 17th century, particularly the thriving body economy. This chapter discusses the various places where anatomy and discussions regarding natural philosophy took place; from the salons and conferences of notable participants in the Republic of letters, to the Hotel Dieu and church of Saint-Come. In the early 17th century, various professions practiced anatomy for a multitude of reasons as they sought to break from what they believed to be the overly rigid philosophy of scholasticism.

Chapter two concerns the discourse in Paris surrounding William Harvey’s De Motu Cordis, and the overall break from ancient knowledge that anatomy and the new science of the 17th century was revealing. Guerrini consistently argues in this chapter that the dissection and vivisection that these courtiers performed merged with the descriptive-based method of natural history to form a new comparative anatomy, which combined natural history and anatomy and broke from scholasticism in the belief that historia was a better method for ascertaining cause than sciencia. Indeed, the founders of the Academy of sciences such as Jean Pecquet and Claude Perrault actively discouraged experimentation for reasons of sciencia and thought the enterprise of anatomy necessitated the treatment of animal subject or cadaver as purely individualistc, in the process foregoing the natural historians penchant for classification.

Chapter three of The Courtiers’ Anatomists concerns the early animal dissection and vivisection performed by the Academy and the conservative modernism and anti-cartesian positions adopted by the academy as they practiced their anatomy to further their own institutional beliefs and glorify their patron Louis XIV. Perrault features heavily in this chapter, as he develops his own theory that simultaneously countered and complemented Descartes mechanical philosophy and added to the widespread discourse about the nature of the soul. As Guerrini indicates, discourse abounded throughout the continent in the 17th century over the issue of animal souls, did they have them, where was the soul located, and could animals reason in manner akin (but never equal to) human beings. This chapter also briefly explores the self-imposed difficulties that the mid-century Academy endured regarding the printing of their findings. Much unlike the Royal Society’s Philosophical Transactions, the Parisian Academy initially only published collectively, which inevitably begs the question of provenance in the history of science, though this is not discussed by Guerrini.

Chapter four explores the exotic dissections and vivisections performed by anatomists at the Academy, made possible by their royal patron Louis XIV, and published in their notable work, Histoire des Animaux. This chapter explores the benefits enjoyed by the Academy, especially in regards to the availability of exotic animals thanks to their access to the royal menageries at Versailles and other royal estates. The portrayal of new knowledge was very important to the compagnie, as Guerrini describes: “but the compagnie also self-consciously aspired to make and display new knowledge of these animals gained from direct observation and careful dissection…” Histoire des Aniumaux indicates the self-scrutiny and importance the academicians poured into their anatomical practices, as well as the deference for experimentation rather than ancient reasoning, simultaneously ascribing to modern anatomy a certain moral economy that was lost on the ancient anatomy practiced by Galen and Aristotle.

Chapter 5 discusses the influence of court, royal menageries, and Louis XIV influence on Academy experimentation. Many of the exotic animals dissected by the anatomists at the academy were acquired from the menagerie at Versailles, such as Lions, Chameleons, and even an elephant. Guerrini explores the symbiotic relationship between Academy and royal patron, asserting that the dissections of the exotic and the findings of the Academy served to bolster the prestige and power of Louis XIV. This would have been an excellent chapter to discuss the relationship between science and state in the early modern period, but Guerrini does not broach this subject as much as some readers would like, instead positing Louis XIV patronage of science and culture as a means of acquiring continental recognition as a modern Alexander the great. However, Guerrini does describe in great detail how anatomists access to exotic animals helped dispel some ancient knowledge and how royal patronage allowed academicians the opportunity to tackle some of the most resounding anatomical questions of the 17th century such as vision and respiration.

Chapter 6 introduces the reader to the dissemination of anatomical experimentation through lectures, particularly those performed by Joseph-Guichard Duverney. This chapter is somewhat unique in Guerrini’s work because she explores the aspect of anatomy as a performace, positing that renowned figures such as Duverney, who was something of a Parisian rockstar, used the public dissection or vivisection as a method for disseminating their own experimentation. Culture under the Sun King was very much in vogue, far beyond fashion, courtiers were encouraged to make use of all aspects of the Sun King’s knowledge and benevolence, and this included the lectures and performances given by academicians.

Guerrini’s The Courtiers’ Anatomists does a remarkable job of exploring the coming of age of anatomy, dissection and vivisection in the early modern period. Her sources typically come from the anatomists themselves, in the form of correspondence and published folios which she combines to show the reader the entirety of the 17th century anatomical process from acquisition of a cadaver or diseased animal to the publication or performance of anatomical experimentation. Guerrini clearly demonstrates an intimate understanding of the science she writes about, and this comes through in her examples which illustrate dissection, vivisection, and comparative anatomy as a quintessentially humanistic endeavor.

While Guerrini’s knowledge is to be praised, her writing style could stand to learn from Duverney. While ostensibly for a popular audience, though one perhaps a bit more literate in early modern science, the excruciating detail by which she presents comparative anatomy and dissection at the Academy serves to diminish her overall arguments at several instances. If this was a monograph then these issues would be moot, but the introduction of historical figures numerous times is portrayed as vital to the narrative, but actually serve merely as evidence. While the overall structure of the book proceeds chronologically, there is an abundance of hopping from Perault, Pecquet, Duverney, etc., so much so that Guerrini risks losing her readership in the mountain of evidence she presents.

Regarding HIST 635, The Courtiers’ Anatomists is perhaps the most meticulously written work we have read so far for the class. It does much to broaden our understanding of the influence of humanism on early modern science, and also expands our understanding of what exactly comprised natural history during this era. Also, the distinction she illustrates between historia and sciencia is perhaps the best description of these new scientists belief in their new forms of experimentation. It was interesting to see anatomists such as Perrault rally against scholasticism while adopting a method of fact employed by the scholastics. In addition, the self-imposed restrictions by the Academy on the publications of their findings reinforce the importance of print culture to class discussions.

Overall, Anita Guerrini’s The Courtier’s Anatomists is thoroughly well researched and meticulous exploration of the importance of animals in the development of experimentation. In particular, the widespread practice of dissection and vivisection, as shown in the book, elucidate the widespread belief during this era of the importance of the development of new knowledge.

Londa Schiebringer is the John L. Professor of the History of Science at Stanford University, and is a leading international authority on gender and science. Her work centers around the history of women’s participation in science; gender in the structure of scientific institutions; and the gendering of human knowledge. Her 2004 work, Plants and Empire: Colonial Bioprospecting in the Atlantic World, focuses on agnotology surrounding 17th and 18th century colonial abortifacients. Her work argues that colonial abortifacients were deliberately kept out of 17th and 18th century European pharmacopeia, physician discourse, and taxonomic definitions  due in part because of the gendered roles of medicine and the colonial enterprise, but also because mercantilist states actively sought a role in determining colonial and domestic populations. Much of Schiebringer’s work focuses on the willing ignorance of colonial botanists and physicians such as Hans Sloane, who discredited indigenous and enslaved medicinal practices, and the abortifacient knowledge of indigenous and enslaved people, arguing in the process that the medical knowledge tradition in indigenous Caribbean communities and enslaved communities suffered through the early modern period with their knowledge intact.

While Schiebringer’s work is not so monographically fixated as to deter a popular audience, the structure of her arguments necessitates a small understanding of 17th and 18th scientific discourse and gender beliefs in European and colonial societies. Though without previous knowledge, the work is written in an accessible manner, and touches on postcolonial theory enough to intrigue the historian, and leave the general reader undisturbed.

The structure of Plants and Empire stems from the tracing of medical and cultural knowledge about the peacock flower (flos pavonis) after it was discovered by Maria Sibylla Merian in Surinam and classified by her as an indigenous abortifacient. The book flows spatially, following the development of the peacock flower in European and colonial bodies of knowledge. Each chapter bounces from the colonial botanical enterprise to the royal gardens and societies of Europe, in the process showing how transatlantic knowledge, or transatlantic agnotology, was part of larger scientific, mercantilist, and social, transatlantic power negotiation between states and scientists alike.

Chapter one introduces the reader to the variety of practicing botanists in the colonial Atlantic. From Voyaging botanists such as Hans Sloane and Maria Merian, the unnamed and underappreciated indigenous and enslaved botanical assistants, the European armchair botanists such as Linnaeus, and even the “Biopirates”, Schiebringer shows how botany was both a state and scientific enterprise. Chapter two explores bioprospecting, and the diffusion of colonial, European, enslaved, and indigenous cultures that resulted from botanists work in the colonial field. This chapter also portrays some colonial botany as a collaborative endeavor between cultures rather than part of a larger colonial extraction economy. Chapters one and two, while written with excellent prose and contain interesting historical information, are clearly designed to immerse the general reader in the transatlantic world. The following three chapters will be of most interest to any historians of science and/or gender.

Chapter three introduces the moral economy surrounding discussions of abortion and abortifacients in the transatlantic world. It not only discusses cultural changes in Europe surrounding midwifery and abortion, but also examines changes in indigenous and enslaved medical culture and abortion knowledge. Much like the debates surrounding “ensoulment” in Europe during the early colonial era, chapter three is where Schiebringer’s work is “ensouled” with the most postcolonial theory; Schiebringer goes to great length to defend and highlight the abortion practices and medical knowledge of indigenous and enslaved cultures in this chapter, and despite the limited material available to her (read sources), she does an excellent job reinvigorating the medical traditions of colonized peoples.

Chapter four brings us back to the peacock flower and its reception and taxonomic processes the abortifacient was put through in Europe. This chapter also deals with the processes of knowledge transfer in the colonial transatlantic, and the place of abortifacients and emmenagogues in 18th century European pharmacopeia. In particular, this chapter is noteworthy for showing how traditional European knowledge of abortifacients was pushed aside in the 18th century as experimentation under state purview coincided with abortion becoming illegal in many western European countries; As Schiebringer says, “As research on drug mechanisms, effects, and reactions increased, certain undesirable drugs were pushed aside,” (193). Chapter 5 takes a deep dive into the rather fiery discourse surrounding botanical nomenclature in the 18th century, showing in addition how a certain linguistic imperialism practiced by European botanists such as Linnaeus (whom Schiebringer barely attempts to hide her distaste for) subverted indigenous and enslaved peoples knowledge systems by imposing Latin and Greek nomenclature.

Schiebringer’s work is a nice change of pace for a history of science historiography that too often seeks to write about male scientists while only given cursory acknowledgment to female practitioners during the 17th and 18th centuries. In defense of other historians, historic material surrounding these historic phenomena overwhelmingly favors the male perspective; it is credit to Schiebringer that she dove into scant sources surrounding indigenous and enslaved medical knowledge traditions and was able to produce a work that highlights the agency of colonized peoples within the era of the “scientific revolution”. The sources she employs, primarily the correspondence and journals of botanists and leading natural historians of the 17th and 18th centuries from both sides of the Atlantic, allow Schiebringer to adequately argue for a constructed agnotology concerning colonial abortifacients. Seeing as these botanists, men of letters, and statesmen (some serving all of these social positions simultaneously), reveals the sociocultural impetus behind the lack of experimentation surrounding colonial abortifacients.

Schiebringer work does an excellent job of portraying indigenous and enslaved peoples medical knowledge tradition as a form of resistance against the colonial enterprise. In particular, her claim that colonial abortifacients were used by female enslaved and indigenous people because of the rape culture that constituted gender relations within Caribbean colonies was an excellent analysis of colonial power dynamics.

Concerning HIST 635, Schiebringer’s work does an excellent job filling in the gaps on indigenous and enslaved peoples that Collecting the World omits. In addition, it adds much appreciated colonial context to the culture of knowledge creation during the “scientific revolution”. Though we have seen gender dynamics before in the class, Recipes immediately coming to mind, by structuring the book around the peacock flower discovered by Merian, Schiebringer forcefully includes females as producers of scientific knowledge and practitioners of developing experimentation during this period. Previously, while we have seen some women perform science, their contributions have mostly been relegated to a domestic sphere of knowledge production and experimentation. By virtue of giving Merian a critical role in her work, Scheibringer firmly places women within the ranks of prominent 17th and 18th scientific figures who so often enjoy the attention of scholars.

Delbourgo, James. Collecting the World : the Life and Curiosity of Hans Sloane. London: Allen Lane, an imprint of Penguin Books, 2017.

James Delbourgo is a historian at Rutgers specializing in early modern Atlantic history, the history of science, and  museology.  In his 2017 work, Collecting the World: The Life and Curiosity of Hans Sloane, Delbourgo takes the reader through a meticulously researched journey into the life of a collector from whose work rose the British Museum, Sir Hans Sloane. Delbourgo’s book, ostensibly a biography of Hans Sloane, unveils itself as much a cultural history as chronicle of Hans Sloane with the gentleman scholar serving as a lens through which the reader can contextualize how a gentleman collector transformed a love of natural history into a cultural and scholarly institution. Complete with incredible images of Sloane’s remarkable collection and analysis of 18th century discourse between the state and science, Delbourgo’s Collecting the World for anybody interested in early modern scientific thought.

Covering in incredible detail the processes by which Sloane amassed his foundational collection, Delbourgo’s work develops as Sloane’s collection grows, revealing the imperial, colonial, scientific, interconnected, and personal mechanisms by which Sloane accumulated his collection, his personal wealth, and global renown. The argument of the book is simultaneously revealed as Delbourgo dissects Sloane’s collection; Sloane, though an incredible figure contemporaneously and historically, amassed his collection through a personal approach to natural history and benefitted from the societal changes Britain underwent in the late 17th and 18th centuries. In short, Sloane was the perfect man to amass such a collection during an era of complex societal change. As Delbourgo Says, “Sloane realized his dream of universal knowledge through a brilliant alignment of institutions of state, trade and colonization to serve his personal ambition,” (xxix).

Delbourgo’s approach to this work mirrors the institution he chronicles, weaving a public audience through various intellectual and cultural processes in an easily digestible fashion. Much as a museum-goer would tour through the wonderous halls of the British Museum, so to does the reader glance at the world that Sloane inhabited through a written tour of the 18th century Atlantic World. Delbourgo’s work is separated into two parts: “Empire of Curiosities,” and “Assembling the world.” Part one follows Sloane as he becomes an internationally recognized natural historian. Part two follows Sloane as he amasses a fortune of bullion and curiosities, finally leaving his life’s work to a public in flux.

Part one of Delbourgo’s work has Jamaica at its center. Sloane, the attending physician to the Duke of Albemarle, was in that rare group that benefitted from his employer’s death, as the demise of the aristocrat allowed Sloane to traipse around Jamaica, both performing as a physician and collecting specimens. In these early chapters the reader sees Sloane fascination with materials and the natural world, but the reader also sees that Sloane is very much a man of his era. Sloane’s fascination with cultural materials did not translate into any apathy for the institutions of slavery and colonization. Sloane subscribed to the racial, imperial, and protestant justifications for colonization, often treating the enslaved people he encountered with apathy if not contempt. As Delbourgo says, Sloane “absorbed the instinctive violence toward slaves of his planter hosts,” (51). While in part one Sloane’s desire for universal knowledge culminates in an avid pursuit of natural history and material, in his mind universal knowledge did not need extend to the cultural practices of enslaved peoples, blacks, or native peoples. Part one also introduces us to Sloane the networker, as one of his many gifts seemed to be his ability to maintain correspondences and networks. In an age of scientific interconnectedness, Sloane’s ability to master the collection of people as well as specimens is in great part why he was able to amass a such a grand collection. To Delbourgo’s credit, he does not shy away from portraying Sloane as ignorant in matters such as ethnography. Sloane was a man of empire, science, and mercantilism, often collecting and describing objects and materials based on their commercial benefit, and ignoring the harm that his imperial dispossession may have had on the ecologies or cultures he interacted with.

Part two of the book follows Sloane after his return from Jamaica. In the half-century after his scientific and professional voyage to Jamaica, he never left England again. Instead, the world came to Sloane as he amassed a fortune due to a successful medical practice, land holdings, and money from Jamaican sugar plantations. Because of his reputation as a sober and empirical gentleman, Sloane rose rapidly through the ranks of London’s high society, increasing his collection as he climbed the social ladder. While part one dealt many with Sloane’s natural history efforts in the west indies, part two shows Sloane as a man of the world despite never leaving the comfort of his home at Chelsea manor. Sloane’s wealth allowed him to collect the work of his peers, often spending his wealth of the collections of his diseased colleagues. His renown and wealth also brought many to his door, eager to use Sloan to increase their wealth and social status. Sloane had connections with physicians in far flung EIC colonies, the settlers in the frontiers of North America, and courtiers at various palaces in Europe. All of them contributed, either in material or expertise, to Sloane’s great collection. It is in part two that the reader sees Sloane as something of a paradox, a scientist who rarely does science. A man of letters who perfected the art of collecting rather than fieldwork. Sloane’s true genius, as we see in the second half of Delbourgo’s work, was his ability to accumulate and catalogue material while simultaneously sparking public interest in his science. To the lucky few whom Sloane gave tours to prior to his death, Sloane’s collection was not a testament to the eccentricity of a scholar, but a testament of empire and the possibility of true, universal knowledge.

A strength of Delbourgo’s work is the depth of research into the periphery of Sloane’s life. From the criticisms of titanic figures such as Isaac Newton to polemics such as William King, peripheral figures in the book (though it is hard to call Newton as such in any discussion of turn of the 18th century science) show that despite the empirical tendencies of Sloane, detractors such as Newton and King represent a scientific community and culture writ large as grappling with the nature and meaning of knowledge-making. Newton described natural history as “the handmaid of natural philosophy” and King frequently bemoaned the 18th century notion that scientific learning was becoming diluted by commercialism and early global trade, calling Sloane a “master of scraps.” Delbougo does a marvelous job highlighting the contentiousness, accusations of credulity, rivalry, and connection with empire that took place during 18th century scientific culture in the blossoming British Empire.

Though Delbourgo’s depth and breadth of research is impressive, occasionally he seems to miss the forest for the trees. The connections Sloane enjoyed with far flung collectors is examined in excruciating detail. Delbourgo often goes on tangent’s about English commercial attempts to penetrate Tokugawa Japan or Qing China, but spends little time examining the ecological and cultural impacts of Sloane’s collection. While Delbourgo admittedly does spend a great deal of time discussing the impact of slavery on Sloane’s collection (and this is appreciated greatly), not nearly enough time is spent discussing the impact of collecting on natural environments and indigenous cultures. What does it say about Sloane and the nature of empire and the colonial state, for example, that a physician could collect so many curiosities from cultures and ecologies that were simultaneously being destroyed as Sloane collected their relics? By definition, a collection bears with it the implication of disuse, so when Sloane collected peace pipes from Native Americans or drums from coastal Africans, this act functioned symbolically as a death knell for these cultures. Postcolonial theories such as dispossession of indigenous material and culture is not discussed at length, and the work is almost entirely devoid any connection between mercantilism and science and the destruction of cultures through accumulation of resources. Since Delbourgo is writing a biography, a form of historiography almost certainly geared toward the general public, an in-depth discussion of post-colonial theory can be forgiven. Nevertheless, since the majority of public readership will not come into contact with in-depth postcolonial theory, it is incumbent on the author of a work describing the complex relationship between colonialism, mercantilism, and culture to acknowledge the cultural erasure inherent to this 18th century form of natural history.

Upon Sloane’s death, his collection became a concern of the state as well as science. Issues of finances and who had the right to access the collection plagued the opening of the British Museum, sparking a debate about the nature of the public and the reach of the state almost a half century before the American and French Revolutions. Sloane’s bequeathal of his life’s work to the viewing pleasure of the public and the research of scholars sparked a debate about access to scientific and historical materials that is ongoing to this day. Because of this ongoing issue, Collecting the World is an excellent entry into the history of museology and the history of science.