From Arabic Professor to Botanical Spy: The Remarkable Tale of Simón de Rojas Clemente

September 27, 1777

Dearest readers of the horticultural persuasion, allow me to transport you to a most fascinating tale of botanical espionage that began on this very day - the birth of that most intriguing character, Simón de Rojas Clemente.

One cannot help but marvel at how a modest professor of Arabic would transform into the father of European ampelography - that most precise science of grapevine classification.

Indeed, his legacy stands proud today, cast in bronze, overlooking Madrid's Royal Botanical Garden, where his story took root.

Picture, if you will, the extraordinary circumstances that led our botanical hero to adopt the persona of Mohamad Ben-Alí!

At the dawn of the 19th century, while instructing in Arabic, Simón formed an alliance with his student Domingo Badía Leblich, who extended an innocent invitation to explore Africa from the Atlas Mountains to the Nile.

What delicious intrigue!

For beneath this scholarly facade lay a covert mission orchestrated by none other than Manuel Godoy, Spain's First Secretary of State.

Our botanical spy, disguised in Muslim garb, would venture forth to gather intelligence on North Africa - though one suspects his heart remained true to the plant kingdom throughout.

Upon his return to Madrid, Simón's true passion flourished at the Royal Botanical Garden, where he assumed directorship of the library.

In 1820, he established what would become his most enduring legacy - a collection of grapevines that continues to thrive in these hallowed grounds.

But perhaps his most precious gift to posterity lies in his herbarium - a treasure trove of 186 grape specimens preserved with remarkable care. These samples, collected before the devastating arrival of phylloxera in Spain, stand as silent witnesses to varieties now lost to time.

How fortunate we are that modern science, through the miracle of DNA analysis, now allows us to unlock the secrets held within these pressed leaves and stems!

One cannot help but wonder - what would Simón make of his lasting impact on the world of viticulture?

Would he be amused to know that his clandestine adventures as Mohamad Ben-Alí are now overshadowed by his contributions to botanical science?