Tournefort’s reputation now began to diffuse itself. M. Fagon, principal physician to the queen, a man who ardently desired to advance the interests of botany, learning his extraordinary merit, invited him to Paris in 1683; and on his arrival obtained for him the place of botanical professor in the Jardin des Plantes. This appointment, however, by no means restrained his passion for travelling; for, although botany was perhaps his principal object, the delight arising from visiting new scenes was strongly associated with the weaker and more tranquil gratification afforded by science. He therefore once more undertook a journey into Spain, and while in Andalusia, where the palm-tree abounds, endeavoured to penetrate the mysterious loves of the male and female of this celebrated tree, but his researches were unsuccessful. He proceeded next into Portugal, from whence, when the object of his journey had been accomplished, he returned to France.
Shortly after this he visited England and Holland, in the latter of which countries he was invited, and even tempted by the offer of a more liberal salary than he enjoyed at home, to take up his residence as botanical professor. The offer was flattering, but Tournefort, persuaded that no worldly advantages are an equivalent for a permanent exile from home, wisely declined it. His own country was not ungrateful. In 1691 he was made a member of the Academy of Sciences; and his reputation, which was now rapidly gaining ground, paved the way to other more solid advantages.
Tournefort, notwithstanding his enthusiasm for science and thirst of reputation, was not in haste to appear before the public as an author. However, in 1694, having meditated profoundly and long upon the subject, he ventured to put forth his “Elemens de Botanique, ou Méthode pour connoître les Plantes,” which, though attacked by Ray and others, was highly esteemed by the greater number of naturalists. He now took his degree of M.D., and, shortly afterward, in 1698, published his history of the plants growing in the environs of Paris, with an account of their uses in medicine.
Such were his employments until the year 1700, when, to adopt the language of the times, he was commanded by the king to undertake a journey into Greece, Asia, and Africa, not merely for the purpose of making scientific researches, but in order to study upon the spot the manners, customs, and opinions of the inhabitants. This long and somewhat hazardous journey he hesitated to commence alone; for, as he justly observes, there is nothing so melancholy as to be ill in a foreign country, surrounded by entire strangers, ignorant of medicine yet daring to practise. However, he very quickly found two companions—the one a physician, the other a painter—and having made every necessary preparation, embarked at Marseilles on the 23d of April, 1700.
On the 3d of May they arrived at Canea, the principal port of Candia; and Tournefort, to whom the passage had appeared exceedingly tedious, experienced peculiar pleasure in commencing his eastern travels with the ancient kingdom of Minos. He found the environs of the city admirable, plains covered with forests of olive, fields richly cultivated, gardens, vineyards, and streams fringed with myrtle and rose laurel. One small inconvenience was felt, however, in traversing these lovely scenes. The Turks, as usual, had laid out their cemeteries along the highway, and not having sunk the graves to a sufficient depth, the bodies, powerfully acted on by the sun, exhaled an extremely fetid odour, which the wind wafted over the country, engendering noisome diseases. To add to the chagrin occasioned by this circumstance, they found, notwithstanding the assertions of Galen and Pliny, which had in fact tempted them into the island, that the plants of Crete were difficult to be met with even in Crete itself, though in the sequel the plants of the “White Mountains” amply made up for their first disappointments.
Tournefort, though a scholar, was by no means a classical enthusiast, and therefore his descriptions of celebrated places may generally be depended upon. If any thing, he was too much disposed, from a not uncommon species of affectation, to disparage the places on which the ancients have thrown the noblest rays of glory. From this disposition he caricatures the Cretan Ida, which he denominates “a great ugly ass’s back,” where you find neither landscape, nor fountain, nor stream, nor agreeable solitude; but, instead of all these, prodigious piles of barren rocks, surrounded by all the circumstances of desolation. From the summit he enjoyed, indeed, an extensive prospect, but he thought it much too dearly purchased by the fatigue of climbing so difficult a mountain; and, in order to put himself in good-humour with the scene, set down in the lee of a rock and made a good bowl of sherbet.
After visiting Retimo, Candia, and the other principal cities of the island, they made an excursion to the famous labyrinth which is hewn in the bowels of a hill near the ancient Gortyna. This singular excavation is entered by a rustic cavern, and conducts you by numerous windings entirely through the mountain. Tournefort regards it as a natural cavern enlarged by human industry. Wherever he met with any Greeks during his journeys in this island, their manners were distinguished by the most remarkable simplicity, men, women, and children crowding round the strangers, admiring their dresses, or demanding medicines.
Having satisfied his scientific curiosity respecting Candia, he proceeded to visit the various islands of the Archipelago, which he examined with attention. On almost every rock on which he landed some additions were made to his botanical or antiquarian treasures, and with this mass of materials continually accumulating, he pushed on to Constantinople. Being desirous of comprehending the barbarous but complex machine of the Ottoman polity, he made a considerable stay in this city, from whence, when he conceived his object to have been accomplished, he continued his travels towards the east, and following the footsteps of the Argonauts, whom the ancients, he tells us, regarded as their most famous travellers, proceeded along the southern shores of the Black Sea towards Colchos. Our traveller performed this part of his route in the suite of the Pasha of Erzeroom. The whole party embarked in feluccas, the pasha with his harem in one vessel, and the remainder of his people, together with Tournefort and his attendants, distributed in seven others. During the voyage they frequently landed on the coast, for the purpose of passing the night more agreeably than could have been done on board. Tents were pitched, and those of the ladies surrounded by ditches, and guarded by black eunuchs, whose ugly visages and fearfully rolling eyes struck a panic into the soul of our traveller, who seems to have regarded them as so many devils commissioned to keep watch over the houries of paradise.
Indeed, Tournefort, if we may take him upon his word, was exceedingly well calculated by nature for travelling securely in the suite of a pasha accompanied by his harem; for when he was cautioned by the great man’s lieutenant against approaching the female quarters too nearly, or even ascending any eminence in the vicinity, from whence their tents might be viewed, he remarked, with apparent sincerity, that he was too much in love with plants to think of the ladies! This was a fortunate circumstance. Plants are everywhere to be procured, for even in the East it has never been thought necessary to place a guard of black eunuchs over hellebore or nightshade; but had the smile of female lips, or the sunshine of female eyes, been necessary to his happiness, he must have languished in hopelessness, at least while in the train of a pasha.
Notwithstanding the nature of the government and the state of manners in the country through which he passed, he encountered but few difficulties, and no real dangers. He settled the geographical position of cities, he admired the landscapes, he described the plants; but being fully persuaded that the better part of valour is discretion, he engaged in no adventures, and therefore the current of his life ran on as smoothly on the shores of the Black Sea as it could have done on the banks of the Seine or Rhone.