Source Material.
Travels to Guaxaca, capital of the province of the same name, in the kingdom of Mexico (1787)
By Nicolas-Joseph Thiéry de Menonville (1739-1780)
Published post-homously by the academy at Cap-Haïtien (previously Cap-Français, initially Cap-François)
INTRODUCTION
In 1776, botanist Nicolas-Joseph Thiéry de Menonville was sent to Mexico by the French crown to steal the prized cochineal beetle over which the Spanish then held a monopoly. Thiéry de Menonville’s recorded a personal (and the only) account of the voyage. This text is intriguing not just in content but in voice. Along his journey, Thiéry de Menonville meets diverse individuals, faces perils and victories, and likens himself to Jason of the Argonautica going after the Golden Fleece. The account reads like a novella with an uncanny air of fantasy, despite it being nonfiction.
Check out this audio recording of the text read by Sue Anderson.
Summary of the Journey
French botanist Nicolas-Joseph Thiery de Menonville pitches a plan to His Majesty, the King of France, to steal the prized cochineal beetle from the Spanish colonies. He is secretly sponsored by the French ministry of the navy, but they could not officially support his illegal activities[1]. He travels from his home country to the French colony Saint-Domingue (modern-day Haiti) where he spends two months getting “acquainted” with colony life. He is not shy about being upper-class, with his gold-capped cane, diamond ring, good manners, fine connections[2]. He acquires a passport that lists him as a botanist and physician – the second title is a bit more dubious, but Nicolas-Joseph figures it’ll bolster ethos with the Spanish.
After his original plan falls through, with far less money than he was promised and almost nothing else but a ramshackle assortment of bottles, jars, cases, and vials, Nicolas-Joseph catches a ride with a merchant to Havana. Spanish officials in rowboats circle their ship as they arrive. Once on land, Nicolas-Joseph notices there’s a lot of European influence in Havana; it is decorated almost entirely with European imports. He goes to the opera, which features Italian performers and is succeeded by an odd, violent one-man show. The most publicly discouraged and harshly punished crime here is smuggling.
After six whole months of re-planning in Havana, Nicolas-Joseph departs for Veracruz, a port city of New Spain (modern-day Mexico). Veracruz is a walled city with three protected gates and is heavily patrolled. Nicolas-Joseph is greeted by officials and falsely introduces himself as a physician conducting medical botany research. He is treated to iced beverages, a rare delicacy here. Nicolas-Joseph maintains a friendly nature towards the Spanish officials whom he suspects are watching his moves closely.
While in Veracruz, Nicolas-Joseph wakes up every morning at 4am to do field work. He observes Holy Week, an extravagant event for the devoutly-Catholic Spanish; it is a surreal experience. He soon learns that a city to the southwest called Oaxaca has superior cochineal cultivated by the Natives who live there. Oaxaca becomes his new waypoint. Nicolas-Joseph tries to obtain a passport to leave Veracruz, but General Don Uloa, a stern military-man and skeptic of both the value of botany and Nicolas-Joseph, himself, forbids Nicolas-Joseph, in the name of the King, from leaving. Don Uloa expresses apprehension towards “opening to strangers the secrets of the rich culture of the country.”
Nicolas-Joseph resolves to sneak out under the cover of darkness. He scales the ramparts during the early morning and roams through the outskirts of the city, through a forest, and across a plain before he reaches the home of a Creole shepherd and his wife. They host him for the night. He continues over a river, the ferry operator lends him directions, and, for twenty miles after that, he doesn’t encounter a single human being. He does, however, take note of fascinating flora and fauna. He rests for one day at the ranch of a curious Black woman, then continues on, several arroyos in his path – obstacles, but teeming with many plants and animals of interest.
He finally reaches the village he’d been directed towards, but it isn’t more than a rancho of three or four worn down huts. Of the eight-or-so people who live here, the harsh Spanish farmer who greets him, whom Nicolas-Joseph suspects to be a retired soldier, grills Nicolas-Joseph with questions; “But as I had undoubtedly every resemblance of a physician, he could but give me credit for my tale.” Nicolas-Joseph is granted a cloak, food, and shelter. That night, it storms, and he reflects on the likely more difficult leg of his journey ahead.
From the rancho, Nicolas-Joseph follows roads southwest towards Oaxaca. He continues to take notes on the natural landscape: “On this day’s journey I found oaks with ovate leaves slightly dentated; a white amaryllis, which I brought back with me; a polyanthus, whose rasped root is used by the Indians in lieu of soap; three large flocks of sheep; twenty conveys of partridges, not so large as quails, and rabbits out of number: I had to pass, moreover, no less than sixteen arroyos. The soil appeared to me generally more fertile and of better staple than that observed the day before; still is it not the less uncultivated, and without inhabitants.” He travels eight leagues without food this day. He meets two Natives building a shelter. They treat him to lemonade.
Later, he finds, between himself and the foot of a daunting mountain range, a rapid, violent river. He pays a Spaniard the toll to cross the bridge. Nicolas-Joseph passes sugar grounds and a fancy plantation boasting canes fifteen feet high. He passes through a deep ravine speckled with abandoned forts and, finally, arrives at a city. The mistress at the Spanish inn here serves him a hearty meal with wine. Soon after departing for the next large city in his path, Córdoba, the rain starts again. He takes shelter with some Natives, when a young Black boy passes with three horses. Nicolas-Joseph joins the boy, who offers to conduct him as far as his own village two leagues beyond. About halfway there, the boy points out a garita, or guard-house of Spanish customs officers. Nicolas-Joseph pretends to be asleep on his horse, hoping this will discourage them from stopping him, but he overestimates the Spanish officers – the rain keeps them inside and away from their post. Nicolas-Joseph and the boy recharge at the boy’s village, and Nicolas-Joseph convinces the boy to lead him the rest of the way to Córdoba for thirteen reals.
On their way, they pass several more garitas without trouble. Nicolas-Joseph is relieved, but appalled: “Never did I look upon these guard houses against smuggling in such an odious light, or as such shocking proof of the arbitrariness of power as in the New World.” They pass sugar and tobacco plantations on fertile, red soil. Nicolas-Joseph further criticizes the Spanish colonists: “Thus the most productive ground in nature is in the hands of a lazy people, who merely cultivate a plant which can give no nourishment to its cultivator.”
Finally, Nicolas-Joseph and the boy reach the great city of Córdoba decorated with “domes, towers, numerous steeples.” There is a large square with an arcade and a fountain, a magnificent church, paved roads, stone houses covered in moss, evergreens, and ferns. Cherry, apple, peach, apricot, an orange trees – fruits from both hemispheres. In stark contrast, poor inhabitants. Next, Nicolas-Joseph sets off for Orizaba, seven leagues distant. A group of Natives set him in the right direction. He passes Mexican pyramids and exuberant pastures hosting huge flocks of sheep. As night draws on, he encounters a kind Native who points him to Orizaba. Open arrival, he tries four inns before finding one that will house him, but the accommodations are less than ideal – poultry droppings and bats.
The next day, Nicolas-Joseph enters a convent of Carmelites. He meets with the sub-prior and confides in him, posing as a man of faith seeking forgiveness. Nicolas-Joseph attempts to bribe the Carmelite for information, but the sub-prior refuses. Still, he offers Nicolas-Joseph to a tour of the convent. Nicolas-Joseph inquires whether there is such a convent of Carmelites at Oaxaca; “This time my good monk fell into the snare.” The Carmelite gives Nicolas-Joseph step-by-step instructions of how to get to Oaxaca: “He afforded me an itinerary so minutely detailed, league by league, and village after village, that the general of an army might have trusted it for the plan of a march.”
Nicolas-Joseph is stopped by customs officers on his way out of Orizaba, but he plays into the arrogance of the Spanish officials by asking them several questions they can proudly answer. The chief takes Nicolas-Joseph aside into a room adorned with weapons and he begins to panic, but it turns out the chief just wanted to inquire about a French illness by which he is afflicted. Nicolas-Joseph prescribes a treatment and goes on his way. He stops at the cottage of a Native family. What strikes and charms Nicolas-Joseph far beyond the hearty meal he is given is the mistress of the cottage: a perfect, flawless, symmetrical, bare-shouldered beauty. Nicolas-Joseph tells her she is quite handsome, and he learns she is married with children. Somehow, this causes Nicolas-Joseph to find her even more alluring. He is tempted to give her a piece of gold, but he catches himself. This woman will be his weakness and he mustn’t get distracted. He leaves the cottage without saying a word or “daring to take another glance.”
Along the road, he encounters another Native village. A woman and her daughter greet Nicolas-Joseph without ceremony but with respect. They understand not a word of each other and communicate using only signs. He gifts the little girl a packet of pins by which she is fascinated. The mother serves him tortillas with chili, the latter of which Nicolas-Joseph finds excellent. As night nears, the father of family arrives home with five more children. He is obviously hungry and tired from labor. He acknowledges Nicolas-Joseph, then, overcome with affection, showers his wife and children with kisses. Nicolas-Joseph dines with the family in their hut of but fifteen square feet, in silence only interrupted by “the tones of a language sweet and short.” Nicolas-Joseph pays the family for their kindness, but the father is hardly interested in the money. Nicolas-Joseph leaves in the middle of night, unable to sleep but deeply affected by the experience.
Nicolas-Joseph takes a paved but steep road up a mountain. By daybreak he reaches the ridge, but his view is shrouded by fog which persists throughout the day. He reaches the summit and descends the mountain into what he perceives to be an entirely new country – he is delighted by the “most superb display” of flora and fauna. He comes across a pueblo settlement. He eats and rests.
Next, he approaches but circumvents the huge city of Tehuacán, a certain trap. Beyond the city, he finds shelter at the hacienda of one Don Joachim, a herald of Castile, Spain. He waits for a while, but the master of the estate never greets him. Offended, Nicolas-Joseph offers gold to one of Joachim’s servants to ditch the hacienda and lead him on horseback to the next town. He passes through several subsequent towns heading southeast towards Oaxaca – by horse, by mule, and with the help of various guides. At Quiotepec, he describes the locals as “mild and tranquil inhabitants.” He receives a guide to Cuicatlan. Nicolas-Joseph and his guide must scale a mountain on horseback via a staircase only two feet broad, while a precipice six hundred yards deep looms below.
Alas, they safely descend into the town of Cuicatlan. There is a bit more less-eventful travel, before Nicolas-Joseph encounters live cochineal for the first time in a garden full of nopal cactuses in "Galiatitlan" (modern day equivalent unknown). Unable to acquire specimens of his own here, Nicolas-Joseph finishes his journey to Oaxaca.
It’s as brilliant a place as he’d imagined. He encounters a number of mysterious individuals: a drunk Spanish officer, a cloaked man loaded with rosaries who follows Nicolas-Joseph for a bit, without resolution, and an inquisitive watchmaker’s wife.
There’s quite a bit of action at the estate (details coming soon) where Nicolas-Joseph finally procures the cochineal, but ultimately, he collects boxes of nopal, the beetle’s host cactus, and cochineal. He travels back through Mexico with the cochineal, escaping some close encounters with customs officers. Along the return journey, a species of moth wreaks havoc on his nopals, decimating his cochineal collection. He is able to collect more on the way back, however. Though all of these nopals then rot and die on the ship back from Mexico to Saint Domingue, he is able to extract their seeds. Upon safely returning to Saint Domingue, Nicolas-Joseph grows the nopal from scratch succeeds in naturalizing the cochineal beetle.
[1] Schiebinger, 39.
[2] Schiebinger 41.
After his original plan falls through, with far less money than he was promised and almost nothing else but a ramshackle assortment of bottles, jars, cases, and vials, Nicolas-Joseph catches a ride with a merchant to Havana. Spanish officials in rowboats circle their ship as they arrive. Once on land, Nicolas-Joseph notices there’s a lot of European influence in Havana; it is decorated almost entirely with European imports. He goes to the opera, which features Italian performers and is succeeded by an odd, violent one-man show. The most publicly discouraged and harshly punished crime here is smuggling.
After six whole months of re-planning in Havana, Nicolas-Joseph departs for Veracruz, a port city of New Spain (modern-day Mexico). Veracruz is a walled city with three protected gates and is heavily patrolled. Nicolas-Joseph is greeted by officials and falsely introduces himself as a physician conducting medical botany research. He is treated to iced beverages, a rare delicacy here. Nicolas-Joseph maintains a friendly nature towards the Spanish officials whom he suspects are watching his moves closely.
While in Veracruz, Nicolas-Joseph wakes up every morning at 4am to do field work. He observes Holy Week, an extravagant event for the devoutly-Catholic Spanish; it is a surreal experience. He soon learns that a city to the southwest called Oaxaca has superior cochineal cultivated by the Natives who live there. Oaxaca becomes his new waypoint. Nicolas-Joseph tries to obtain a passport to leave Veracruz, but General Don Uloa, a stern military-man and skeptic of both the value of botany and Nicolas-Joseph, himself, forbids Nicolas-Joseph, in the name of the King, from leaving. Don Uloa expresses apprehension towards “opening to strangers the secrets of the rich culture of the country.”
Nicolas-Joseph resolves to sneak out under the cover of darkness. He scales the ramparts during the early morning and roams through the outskirts of the city, through a forest, and across a plain before he reaches the home of a Creole shepherd and his wife. They host him for the night. He continues over a river, the ferry operator lends him directions, and, for twenty miles after that, he doesn’t encounter a single human being. He does, however, take note of fascinating flora and fauna. He rests for one day at the ranch of a curious Black woman, then continues on, several arroyos in his path – obstacles, but teeming with many plants and animals of interest.
He finally reaches the village he’d been directed towards, but it isn’t more than a rancho of three or four worn down huts. Of the eight-or-so people who live here, the harsh Spanish farmer who greets him, whom Nicolas-Joseph suspects to be a retired soldier, grills Nicolas-Joseph with questions; “But as I had undoubtedly every resemblance of a physician, he could but give me credit for my tale.” Nicolas-Joseph is granted a cloak, food, and shelter. That night, it storms, and he reflects on the likely more difficult leg of his journey ahead.
From the rancho, Nicolas-Joseph follows roads southwest towards Oaxaca. He continues to take notes on the natural landscape: “On this day’s journey I found oaks with ovate leaves slightly dentated; a white amaryllis, which I brought back with me; a polyanthus, whose rasped root is used by the Indians in lieu of soap; three large flocks of sheep; twenty conveys of partridges, not so large as quails, and rabbits out of number: I had to pass, moreover, no less than sixteen arroyos. The soil appeared to me generally more fertile and of better staple than that observed the day before; still is it not the less uncultivated, and without inhabitants.” He travels eight leagues without food this day. He meets two Natives building a shelter. They treat him to lemonade.
Later, he finds, between himself and the foot of a daunting mountain range, a rapid, violent river. He pays a Spaniard the toll to cross the bridge. Nicolas-Joseph passes sugar grounds and a fancy plantation boasting canes fifteen feet high. He passes through a deep ravine speckled with abandoned forts and, finally, arrives at a city. The mistress at the Spanish inn here serves him a hearty meal with wine. Soon after departing for the next large city in his path, Córdoba, the rain starts again. He takes shelter with some Natives, when a young Black boy passes with three horses. Nicolas-Joseph joins the boy, who offers to conduct him as far as his own village two leagues beyond. About halfway there, the boy points out a garita, or guard-house of Spanish customs officers. Nicolas-Joseph pretends to be asleep on his horse, hoping this will discourage them from stopping him, but he overestimates the Spanish officers – the rain keeps them inside and away from their post. Nicolas-Joseph and the boy recharge at the boy’s village, and Nicolas-Joseph convinces the boy to lead him the rest of the way to Córdoba for thirteen reals.
On their way, they pass several more garitas without trouble. Nicolas-Joseph is relieved, but appalled: “Never did I look upon these guard houses against smuggling in such an odious light, or as such shocking proof of the arbitrariness of power as in the New World.” They pass sugar and tobacco plantations on fertile, red soil. Nicolas-Joseph further criticizes the Spanish colonists: “Thus the most productive ground in nature is in the hands of a lazy people, who merely cultivate a plant which can give no nourishment to its cultivator.”
Finally, Nicolas-Joseph and the boy reach the great city of Córdoba decorated with “domes, towers, numerous steeples.” There is a large square with an arcade and a fountain, a magnificent church, paved roads, stone houses covered in moss, evergreens, and ferns. Cherry, apple, peach, apricot, an orange trees – fruits from both hemispheres. In stark contrast, poor inhabitants. Next, Nicolas-Joseph sets off for Orizaba, seven leagues distant. A group of Natives set him in the right direction. He passes Mexican pyramids and exuberant pastures hosting huge flocks of sheep. As night draws on, he encounters a kind Native who points him to Orizaba. Open arrival, he tries four inns before finding one that will house him, but the accommodations are less than ideal – poultry droppings and bats.
The next day, Nicolas-Joseph enters a convent of Carmelites. He meets with the sub-prior and confides in him, posing as a man of faith seeking forgiveness. Nicolas-Joseph attempts to bribe the Carmelite for information, but the sub-prior refuses. Still, he offers Nicolas-Joseph to a tour of the convent. Nicolas-Joseph inquires whether there is such a convent of Carmelites at Oaxaca; “This time my good monk fell into the snare.” The Carmelite gives Nicolas-Joseph step-by-step instructions of how to get to Oaxaca: “He afforded me an itinerary so minutely detailed, league by league, and village after village, that the general of an army might have trusted it for the plan of a march.”
Nicolas-Joseph is stopped by customs officers on his way out of Orizaba, but he plays into the arrogance of the Spanish officials by asking them several questions they can proudly answer. The chief takes Nicolas-Joseph aside into a room adorned with weapons and he begins to panic, but it turns out the chief just wanted to inquire about a French illness by which he is afflicted. Nicolas-Joseph prescribes a treatment and goes on his way. He stops at the cottage of a Native family. What strikes and charms Nicolas-Joseph far beyond the hearty meal he is given is the mistress of the cottage: a perfect, flawless, symmetrical, bare-shouldered beauty. Nicolas-Joseph tells her she is quite handsome, and he learns she is married with children. Somehow, this causes Nicolas-Joseph to find her even more alluring. He is tempted to give her a piece of gold, but he catches himself. This woman will be his weakness and he mustn’t get distracted. He leaves the cottage without saying a word or “daring to take another glance.”
Along the road, he encounters another Native village. A woman and her daughter greet Nicolas-Joseph without ceremony but with respect. They understand not a word of each other and communicate using only signs. He gifts the little girl a packet of pins by which she is fascinated. The mother serves him tortillas with chili, the latter of which Nicolas-Joseph finds excellent. As night nears, the father of family arrives home with five more children. He is obviously hungry and tired from labor. He acknowledges Nicolas-Joseph, then, overcome with affection, showers his wife and children with kisses. Nicolas-Joseph dines with the family in their hut of but fifteen square feet, in silence only interrupted by “the tones of a language sweet and short.” Nicolas-Joseph pays the family for their kindness, but the father is hardly interested in the money. Nicolas-Joseph leaves in the middle of night, unable to sleep but deeply affected by the experience.
Nicolas-Joseph takes a paved but steep road up a mountain. By daybreak he reaches the ridge, but his view is shrouded by fog which persists throughout the day. He reaches the summit and descends the mountain into what he perceives to be an entirely new country – he is delighted by the “most superb display” of flora and fauna. He comes across a pueblo settlement. He eats and rests.
Next, he approaches but circumvents the huge city of Tehuacán, a certain trap. Beyond the city, he finds shelter at the hacienda of one Don Joachim, a herald of Castile, Spain. He waits for a while, but the master of the estate never greets him. Offended, Nicolas-Joseph offers gold to one of Joachim’s servants to ditch the hacienda and lead him on horseback to the next town. He passes through several subsequent towns heading southeast towards Oaxaca – by horse, by mule, and with the help of various guides. At Quiotepec, he describes the locals as “mild and tranquil inhabitants.” He receives a guide to Cuicatlan. Nicolas-Joseph and his guide must scale a mountain on horseback via a staircase only two feet broad, while a precipice six hundred yards deep looms below.
Alas, they safely descend into the town of Cuicatlan. There is a bit more less-eventful travel, before Nicolas-Joseph encounters live cochineal for the first time in a garden full of nopal cactuses in "Galiatitlan" (modern day equivalent unknown). Unable to acquire specimens of his own here, Nicolas-Joseph finishes his journey to Oaxaca.
It’s as brilliant a place as he’d imagined. He encounters a number of mysterious individuals: a drunk Spanish officer, a cloaked man loaded with rosaries who follows Nicolas-Joseph for a bit, without resolution, and an inquisitive watchmaker’s wife.
There’s quite a bit of action at the estate (details coming soon) where Nicolas-Joseph finally procures the cochineal, but ultimately, he collects boxes of nopal, the beetle’s host cactus, and cochineal. He travels back through Mexico with the cochineal, escaping some close encounters with customs officers. Along the return journey, a species of moth wreaks havoc on his nopals, decimating his cochineal collection. He is able to collect more on the way back, however. Though all of these nopals then rot and die on the ship back from Mexico to Saint Domingue, he is able to extract their seeds. Upon safely returning to Saint Domingue, Nicolas-Joseph grows the nopal from scratch succeeds in naturalizing the cochineal beetle.
[1] Schiebinger, 39.
[2] Schiebinger 41.
Aftermath
Though Nicolas-Joseph succeeds in his quest, none of the original beetles from Oaxaca survive the journey. Two years after returning to Saint Domingue, Nicolas-Joseph dies of malignant fever. His successors at the Port au Prince garden fail to provide proper care to Nicolas-Joseph's cochineal, and they all die out. After all this, however, a new species of cochineal actually native to Haiti is discovered and cultivated instead. This production is later halted with the “upheavals and flames” of the Haitian Revolution[1].
His round-trip through Mexico lasted twenty days and spanned 240 leagues, or 720 miles. He eluded two viceroys, six governors, thirty alcaldes (local officials), and 1200 customs officers[2]. Throughout his voyage, Nicolas-Joseph expressed a feeling of responsibility to individual cultivators, whether Native or Afro-Mexican, “and sought to compensate them for their accumulated knowledge and resources (or so he says), even though his piracy could potentially have undermined their livelihood”[3].
[1] Schiebinger, Londa L. Plants and Empire: Colonial Bioprospecting in the Atlantic World (2004), Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press, 42.
[2] Schiebinger, 44.
[3] Schibinger, 45.
His round-trip through Mexico lasted twenty days and spanned 240 leagues, or 720 miles. He eluded two viceroys, six governors, thirty alcaldes (local officials), and 1200 customs officers[2]. Throughout his voyage, Nicolas-Joseph expressed a feeling of responsibility to individual cultivators, whether Native or Afro-Mexican, “and sought to compensate them for their accumulated knowledge and resources (or so he says), even though his piracy could potentially have undermined their livelihood”[3].
[1] Schiebinger, Londa L. Plants and Empire: Colonial Bioprospecting in the Atlantic World (2004), Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press, 42.
[2] Schiebinger, 44.
[3] Schibinger, 45.
Metamorphosis insectorum Surinamensium (1705)
By Maria Sibylla Merian (1647-1717)
First published in Latin and Dutch, Amsterdam
INTRODUCTION
In 1699, Maria Sibylla Merian, a German entomologist/naturalist/scientific illustrator, travelled to the plantation colony of Dutch Guiana (modern-day Surinam) to study and take inventory of tropical insects. In what is considered her magnum opus and a predominantly scientific work, Merian also reflects upon her observations of and interactions with the enslaved women she encountered.
View it digitally through the Biodiversity Heritage Library.
Plant medicine & Natural Abortions
African and Indigenous women in the colonial Caribbean used Caesalpinia pulcherrima, the peacock flower, as an abortifacient to spare their future children from being born into bondage or an otherwise hostile or impoverished situation[4].
Slaveowners encouraged reproduction within their labor forces in an effort to increase productivity and profit, and to further their investment in human bondage. Though refusal to reproduce was made illegal, enslaved women secretly accessed some amount of bodily autonomy by terminating their own pregnancies with the peacock flower, passing this technique down through generations. The seeds, leaves, and flowers of the bright red and yellow flowering bush were consumed in tea form, inducing miscarriage[5].
Upon learning of such a practice, Merian wrote, “The black slaves from Guinea and Angola must be treated benignly otherwise they will produce no children at all in their state of slavery… Indeed, they even kill themselves on account of the harsh treatment to which they are ordinarily subject. For they feel that they will be born again with their friends in a free state in their own country, so they instructed me out of their own mouths.”
[4] Schiebinger, 4.
[5] Black Botany: The Nature of Black Experience, "The Peacock Flower and Reproduction" (updated 2022).
Slaveowners encouraged reproduction within their labor forces in an effort to increase productivity and profit, and to further their investment in human bondage. Though refusal to reproduce was made illegal, enslaved women secretly accessed some amount of bodily autonomy by terminating their own pregnancies with the peacock flower, passing this technique down through generations. The seeds, leaves, and flowers of the bright red and yellow flowering bush were consumed in tea form, inducing miscarriage[5].
Upon learning of such a practice, Merian wrote, “The black slaves from Guinea and Angola must be treated benignly otherwise they will produce no children at all in their state of slavery… Indeed, they even kill themselves on account of the harsh treatment to which they are ordinarily subject. For they feel that they will be born again with their friends in a free state in their own country, so they instructed me out of their own mouths.”
[4] Schiebinger, 4.
[5] Black Botany: The Nature of Black Experience, "The Peacock Flower and Reproduction" (updated 2022).