The Vegetable Lamb of Tartary: A Curious Fable of the Cotton Plant.: To Which Is Added a Sketch of the History of Cotton and the Cotton Trade

In Short

This curious volume serves as both a biological detective story and a concise history of global trade. By meticulously examining the legend of the Barometz—a mythical plant-lamb said to grow in the East—the author demonstrates how ignorance and artistic embellishment turned a botanical reality into a zoological fable. Through scientific skepticism and historical research, the book chronicles how cotton moved from the mysterious "fleeces of trees" in ancient India to the backbone of modern European commerce, ultimately demystifying an enduring piece of natural folklore.

The Story

The narrative begins with the legend itself: a creature called the Barometz, or Scythian Lamb. Early accounts described a plant that grew a lamb from its navel; this creature, tethered to the earth by a stalk, would consume all the grass within its reach until, having nothing left to eat, it withered and died. Scholars and travelers of antiquity, desperate to explain the soft, white "wool" they encountered in India, often relied on hearsay or manipulated fern-roots to "prove" the animal’s existence.

The author traces this belief through centuries of literature, starting with ancient writers like Herodotus and Strabo, who correctly identified the cotton plant as a "wool-bearing tree." However, as these tales traveled westward through Tartary and were filtered through the perspectives of medieval travelers and early scientists, the story grew more fantastic. The text highlights how figures like the philosopher Cardano were lampooned by rivals like Julius Caesar Scaliger for their gullibility regarding the "lamb-plant." The author systematically exposes the physical evidence—such as "specimens" presented to the Royal Society—as little more than dried, sculpted fern-rhizomes crafted by clever merchants to look like small, tan-colored dogs or lambs.

As the book progresses, the focus shifts from the fable to the hard history of the cotton trade. The author explains that the "Vegetable Lamb" was essentially a misinterpretation of cotton-bearing shrubs observed by Westerners who had never seen the plant grow. The narrative follows the movement of cotton through history: from its cultivation by the Moors in Spain to the technological revolutions of the eighteenth century. The author details the geopolitical shifts that governed this trade, from the maritime routes established by Alexander the Great to the later dominance of the British and Dutch East India Companies.

The book concludes by reconciling the myth with reality. By looking at the actual botany of the cotton plant and the migration of textiles across the ancient world, the author provides a grounded explanation for how the "fable" was born. The ending is not one of disappointment but of clarity: the story of the Vegetable Lamb is revealed as a bridge between the imaginative wonder of the medieval mind and the empirical, trade-focused expansion of the modern era.

How It Unfolds

The legend’s roots The author introduces the Barometz as a creature discussed by ancient commentators and Talmudic scholars. He presents the "animal-plant" as a fusion of myth and half-understood reports of Indian flora.

Skeptical inquiries The focus turns to early modern attempts to verify the myth, featuring scientists like Sir Hans Sloane and Dr. John Breyn. These investigators examine "specimens" delivered to the Royal Society, only to find they are crudely shaped fern-roots rather than biological curiosities.

The cotton connection The author pivots to the historical reality of cotton, drawing on accounts from Alexander the Great’s generals. He argues that travelers, seeing trees that produced white, wool-like fibers, naturally assumed the existence of a corresponding animal.

Geopolitical shifts The narrative expands to cover the impact of the Saracen conquests and the rise of the Moorish influence on European agriculture. This section illustrates how the knowledge of cotton and its manufacture moved across continents alongside the trade caravans.

The age of commerce The final section examines the modern industrialization of cotton, contrasting the romanticized fables of the past with the immense economic scale of the trade. The author concludes by tracing the enduring impact of these early trade routes on the global economy.

The People

The book features a cast of thinkers, travelers, and conquerors who shaped the legacy of the Barometz. Alexander the Great appears as the visionary architect of the first maritime trade routes to India, fostering a climate of scientific inquiry that allowed his contemporaries to record the first observations of the cotton plant.

In contrast, the "philosopher" Jerome Cardano serves as a cautionary tale of intellectual vanity, having famously accepted the existence of the Vegetable Lamb, only to be ruthlessly mocked by his rival, Julius Caesar Scaliger. Scaliger functions as the biting critic, whose ironical takedown of the fable is often—and ironically—misinterpreted by later writers as a sign of his own genuine belief.

Finally, the author highlights the role of scientific observers like Sir Hans Sloane and Dr. John Philip Breyn. These men act as the voice of reason. They stand in the way of superstition, using empirical methods—such as the microscope and the objective analysis of plant anatomy—to dismantle the "zoophyte" myth, eventually forcing the scientific community to accept that nature provides wonders far more grounded than those invented by the human imagination.

In Its Own Voice

"Creatures called Adne Hasadeh (literally, 'lords of the field') are regarded as beasts."

This quote, provided by the Chief Rabbi Delegate, illustrates the deep historical roots of the Barometz legend in ancient religious and scholarly texts.

"If the older writers had adhered to this, Natural History, great and honourable in itself, would not have been tarnished by so many silly fables like that of the 'Scythian Lamb.'"

Dr. John Philip Breyn expresses the frustration of the scientific community when faced with the persistent, unverified myths of his time.

"It is very remarkable that this dissertation of Scaliger, which is really a keen satire on Cardano, and a sarcastic repetition of his version of the fable with ironical comments thereon, has been almost invariably taken as serious."

The author notes the irony that satirical works are frequently misread by future generations as expressions of sincere belief in the impossible.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an exploration of the fragility of human knowledge. It examines how a lack of direct observation—compounded by the human tendency to favor wonder over reality—allows myth to become history. The author argues that the Vegetable Lamb was not merely a tall tale, but a symptom of an era struggling to categorize the exotic products of an expanding world. By contrasting the imaginative "Scythian Lamb" with the tangible, labor-intensive reality of the global cotton trade, the book asks a fundamental question: how do we distinguish between the products of nature and the projections of our own desire for the marvelous? It is a meditation on the transition from a world of folklore to a world of systematic discovery.

Why Read It Today

Readers with an interest in the history of science, textile production, or the evolution of folklore will find this volume deeply engaging. The book captures the specific, slightly eccentric rigor of late nineteenth-century natural history writing. It feels like a long, inquisitive conversation with a learned, well-traveled curator who has spent years rummaging through old manuscripts and museum cabinets.

The text is rich with period-appropriate detail and a dry, scholarly wit that makes the debunking of archaic myths feel both satisfying and intellectually stimulating. However, readers should be prepared for the dense, academic prose typical of 1887. The author’s habit of extensively citing Latin texts and obscure historical sources, while thorough, can be challenging for those seeking a light, modern narrative. Additionally, some of the anthropological and cultural observations reflect the colonial-era attitudes of the author’s time, which may feel dated to a contemporary audience. Nevertheless, the book remains a classic example of "unmasking" the wonders of the world. It stays with you not because of the fable itself, but because of the author’s persistent, warm, and principled defense of empirical truth against the seductive allure of a good story.