When Galen Clark’s The Big Trees of California, their History and Characteristics, was published, in 1907, he was 93 years old. It had been 50 years since he first came to live in the Mariposa Grove in Yosemite Valley. He had spent most of those years in the midst of the giant sequoias, serving as a guide and educator, and fighting for the protection of these natural wonders.

“Guardian’s Cabin. Mariposa Grove.” Clark, Galen. The big trees of California, their history and characteristics. 1907. Contributed in BHL from Library of Congress.

The noted naturalist and conservationist John Muir met Galen Clark on his first visit to Yosemite, and later, in his writing on The Yosemite, called him “the best mountaineer I ever met, and one of the kindest and most amiable of all my mountain friends.” Along with Muir, Clark was instrumental in Yosemite’s preservation and development as a national park.

Born in Canada 1814, Galen Clark migrated westward at an early age. In 1857, suffering from severe lung illness, he moved to Wawona, California for the mountain air. Although he engaged in several modest business enterprises, including running a hotel and serving as a professional guide, Clark was never successful as an entrepreneur. During much of his life he was consistently short of funds, but his accomplishments as an explorer and mountaineer, as well as his influence as a champion of forest and wilderness conservation, were widely recognized.

Galen Clark was an influential contributor to the original movement for the protection of Yosemite as a park. When President Abraham Lincoln signed the Yosemite Grant in 1864, setting aside the Mariposa Grove and Yosemite Valley as protected areas “for public use, resort, and recreation,” Clark was named the first Guardian of Yosemite. He served as Guardian for the next 24 years and lived to see Yosemite National Park established—as the third national park—in 1890. His influence and contributions were acknowledged when an iconic mountain peak was re-named Mt. Galen Clark in his honor.

Photo of Galen Clark. Clark, Galen. The big trees of California, their history and characteristics. 1907. Contributed in BHL from Library of Congress.

The Big Trees of California has a generous number of full-page photographs, including some taken by the Yosemite photographer George Fiske. Many of the bigger named trees are included, and there are also images of the Guardian’s Cabin nestled in the Mariposa Grove, and of the Wawona hotel (now Big Trees Lodge).

Within the free-flowing border of green foliage and cones that decorates each page of text, Clark touches on most aspects of the history, biology, and geography of these fantastic trees. He discusses cones and seeds, and gives tips for testing seed viability.  He also provides an overview of the distribution of big trees in California’s other major sequoia groves—although his main focus is on the Mariposa Grove.

In discussing the sequoia’s origins, Clark shares his awe for this “ancient order of forest trees … contemporaneous with such huge animals as the dinotherium, megatherium mammoth, and monster reptiles long since extinct.” Clark talks about the difficulties of determining the age of any particular sequoia—as even fallen trees, where the rings are easily examined, exhibit many irregularities and variations in ring growth. However,  he does speculate that some of the older trees may have been at least several thousands of years old.

Galen Clark’s love of the giant trees consistently shines through in this book. Despite the inclusion of a number of strictly factual portions—such as a detailed chemical analysis of the gum from a sequoia cone, along with a report supplied by supplied by Professor H. W. Wiley, Chief of the Bureau of Chemistry at the United States Department of Agriculture—this book comes across as an ode to the sequoias. In the section on “Habits and Characteristics,” for example, Clark sets out to provide some strictly factual botanical descriptions of branching and leaf types, but soon segues into a lyrical description:

The bright cinnamon color of their immense fluted trunks, in strong contrast to the green foliage, and dark hues of the surrounding forest makes them all the more conspicuous and impressive. In their sublime presence, a person is apt to be filled with a sense of awe and veneration as if treading on hallowed ground.

“Wawona Tree, Mariposa Grove.” Clark, Galen. The big trees of California, their history and characteristics. 1907. Contributed in BHL from Library of Congress.

A highlight of the book is the listing and description of some of the biggest of the big trees in California–and it is good to know that, more than 100 years later, many of his “celebrated specimens” are still standing.

The General Sherman Tree: This giant is still standing and has earned the title of World’s Largest Tree (by volume).  It stands 275 feet (83m) tall and is over 36 feet (11m) in diameter at its base. It is now estimated that this tree is somewhere around 2,000 years old.

The Grizzly Giant: Clark names this old sequoia “the Patriarch of the Mariposa Grove.” He speculates that, despite the extensive damage it has sustained, the Grizzly Giant may be “not just the oldest living tree, but also the oldest living thing on earth.”

The General Grant Tree: Named after Ulysses S. Grant, this tree is slightly smaller than the General Sherman.  In 1926, President Coolidge designated the General Grant as the Nation’s Christmas Tree, and annual ceremonies continue to be held at its base.  This tree is also notable for being designated as a National Shrine by President Eisenhower, in 1956.

The Boole Tree: This tree was left standing alone in the Sanger Lumber Company’s logging camp after surrounding trees were cut for lumber, in about 1895.  Clark predicted a swift death for this isolated and unprotected giant tree, but it still survives on what is now U.S. Forest Service land in Sequoia National Forest.

Sadly, another giant, the Mother of the Forest, in Calaveras Grove, was killed in the 1850s, when its bark was stripped and reassembled for display at various exhibitions in the United States and Europe. It was already dead, though not yet entirely destroyed by fire when The Big Trees of California was written.

Tunnel Trees: Clark writes that riding through the tunnel trees “in a six-horse stage, or any conveyance, is a great novelty and should not be missed.”  The famous Wawona Tunnel Tree of Mariposa Grove was a favorite until it fell under a heavy load of snow in February 1969. Another tunnel tree, Pioneer Cabin, which Clark mentions briefly, came down during a winter storm in 2017.

Further Reading

The Boole Tree, from the USDA Forest Service
https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/sequoia/recarea/?recid=79961

Forest atlas of the national forests of the United States. Sequoia folio. By United States. Forest Service. Pinchot, Gifford, Smith, George Otis. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Department of Agriculture, Forest Service, 1909. DOI: https://doi.org/10.5962/bhl.title.119298.

Mariposa grove of big trees: a short history of the Mariposa big trees & the Yosemite Valley.  By: Leitch, B. M. Wawona Calif: B.M. Leitch ?, 1910. DOI: https://doi.org/10.5962/bhl.title.30311.

Muir, John. South of Yosemite. Edited and with a foreword by Frederic R. Gunsky. Garden City, NY, Published for the American Museum of Natural History, by the Natural History Press, 1968.

Sequoia Research, Yosemite, from the National Park Service:
https://www.nps.gov/yose/learn/nature/sequoia-research.htm

Vischer’s views of California: the mammoth tree grove, Calaveras County, California, and its avenues. By: Vischer, Edward. San Francisco: Edward Vischer, 1862. DOI: https://doi.org/10.5962/bhl.title.50746.

Yosemite nature notes. United States. National Park Service. Yosemite Natural History Association, Yosemite Naturalist Department. Yosemite National Park Calif, Yosemite Natural History Association, 1922. Volume: 35 no.6. BHL:  item/70374.

Two of the most important early contributors to our understanding of orchids were the artist Franz Bauer (1758-1840) and the English botanist and gardener John Lindley (1799-1865), who was to become known as the “father of modern orchidology”. The publication of the Illustrations of Orchidaceous Plants [from sketches prepared between 1792 and 1832] between 1830 and 1838 combined Bauer’s great skill and Lindley’s knowledge and industriousness to produce an invaluable artistic and scientific work. The Natural History Museum, London (NHM) has recently uploaded their copy of this volume to sit alongside the Missouri Botanical Gardens’ own volume.

Plate 21. “The parts of fructification of Dendrobium speciosum from a sketch by Mr. Bauer in 1793”. Bauer, Franz Andreas and Lindley, John. Illustrations of Orchidaceous plants. 1830-1838. Contributed in BHL from Natural History Museum, London.

Lindley and Bauer were likely to have met in London under the patronage of Sir Joseph Banks (1743-1820). Bauer had settled in Kew by 1790 as their first artist in residence and was profiting from the technological developments in Kew’s heating of its glasshouses. The change from hot dry air and flue systems to heating by hot water circulating through cast-iron pipes enabled a better control of humidity, a prerequisite for the successful growing of tropical orchids. The following influx in orchidaceous species provided Bauer with a plethora of material to dissect and examine under a microscope and his skill in depicting scientifically accurate and aesthetically pleasing work flourished.

Lindley, on the other hand, was an assistant to Robert Brown (1773-1858) in Banks’s library and herbarium until Banks’s death in 1820. Although his life-long fascination was with orchids, he initially studied roses leading him to publish the volume A botanical history of roses, which he illustrated himself. In 1822, he was appointed by the Royal Horticultural Society as assistant secretary where he supervised their plant collections, and in 1829 he was appointed Professor of Botany at the University College, London, developing a reputation as a leading figure in orchidology and an excellent teacher. His recognition of several major groups of orchids according to the type of pollen and its arrangement on the column is still the basis of orchid classification today.

It was during this period that Lindley set about publishing Bauer’s many drawings of orchids studied under a microscope, of which Bauer had started these drawing in 1792 and continued beyond the first publication of the volume in 1832. Lindley provided the text on the organisation of Orchidaceae in his prefatory remarks, detailing many of the characteristics of orchids he had observed over his lifetime and referencing the various writings available to him at the time.

He states in his preface that “it has been found indispensable to represent Mr Bauer’s drawings by means of lithography instead of engraving on copper” and as such the final published volume contains thirty-five lithographed folio plates. Lindley was conscious of the changes he was making to Bauer’s drawings and goes on to state that he hopes “…that the defects of some of the plates as works of art will not be prejudicial to them as illustrations of science”. The plates are either un-coloured or hand-coloured with the individual components on each plate numbered with an index of what is depicted following each plate. Lindley lithographed several of Bauer’s drawings with the remaining being lithographed by Maxim Gauci (1774-1854).

The plates are based on Bauer’s drawings and illustrate various characteristics of the orchid plants, from floral structure to seeds and pollen. The plate below shows the single anther of a Bletia flower at a magnification of 100 times and a few pollen grains at a magnification of 400 times. Bauer ultimately sketched thousands of pollen grain at various magnifications, but in this example, he was able to soak the pollinia in water and thus discover the elastic tissue that connects the pollen grains together.

Plate 8. “A view of the pollen-masses of Bletia verecunda dissolved in water; from a sketch by Mr. Bauer in 1801”. Bauer, Franz Andreas and Lindley, John. Illustrations of Orchidaceous plants. 1830-1838. Contributed in BHL from Natural History Museum, London.

The volume recently uploaded to BHL via the Natural History Museum contains a manuscript dedication by Mr Meyer, Bauer’s friend and executor, to Franz Bauer, attached to the front flyleaf. This letter reads:

“In memory of Francis Bauer Esq.re, FRS & FLS, & c. Botanical Painter to His Majesty George 3rd. And Resident Draughtsman for fifty years to the Royal Botanic Garden at Kew, where he devoted himself to the advancement of natural science under the magnificent patronage of Sir Joseph Banks, Bart. the President of the Royal Society. In the delineation of plants he united the accuracy of the profound naturalist with the skill of the accomplished artist to a degree which has been only equaled by his brother Ferdinand and in microscopical drawing he was altogether unrivaled. In this branch of his most useful labours, the world will ever contemplate with admiration his elaborate illustrations of animal and vegetable structures, especially those which are preserved in the British Museum, and in the University of Göttingen. He was born 4th of October 1758 at Feldsperg in Austria, and came to England from Vienna with the Baron Joseph Jacquin in 1788. He settled at Kew in 1790, where he continued to live in the enjoyment of an exalted reputation, and in the affection and respect of all to whom his generous character, his unassuming manner, and his deep religious feelings were known until 11 December 1840 when he died at the age of 82. While the works of Francis Bauer are his imperishable monument friendship inscribes this record on his honored tomb. [From Mr Bauer’s friend and executor Mr Meyer, 38 Sackville Street, Piccadilly, February 26 1846, at Stanhope Cottage. Wm. Clift (Mr Meyer, Mrs Haverfield’s, Kew Green. March 3, 1846)”

Further reading:

Stewart, Joyce and Stearn, William T. (1993) The orchid paints of Franz Bauer, The Herbert Press

Cooper, Paul M. (2015) The Bauer brothers, Natural History Museum, London

Labillardiere, Jacques Julien Houtton de. Icones plantarum Syriæ rariorum. Decas Primas. 1791. Engraving after Henri-Joseph Redouté. Contributed in the Biodiversity Heritage Library from Royal Botanic Gardens Kew, Library, Art & Archives.

At the end of the 18th century, French naturalist Jacques-Julien Houtou de Labillardière spent two years exploring and collecting plants in the Levant. The expedition ultimately resulted in the publication of a beautifully-illustrated work on the botany of the region, Icones plantarum Syriæ rariorum (“Rare Syrian Plant Images”).

Born in Alençon, a commune in Normandy, France, in 1755, Labillardière studied medicine in Montpellier, receiving his doctorate in Paris, before turning his interests to natural history (Allorge 2006, 306). Embarking at Marseilles in 1787, Labillardière was originally destined for southern Turkey until, upon arriving in Cyprus, he learned that the plague was desolating Antioch (now Antakya) and regions north of Aleppo, so he elected to visit the Holy Land, Lebanon and Damascus instead. His travels ultimately took him as far north as Mons Cassius near the Turkish-Syrian border (Rix 2012, 67). After nearly two years, he returned to France, stopping at Cyprus, Corsica, and Sardinia along the way.

Labillardiere, Jacques Julien Houtton de. Icones plantarum Syriæ rariorum. Decas Second. 1791. Engraving after Pierre-Joseph Redouté. Contributed in the Biodiversity Heritage Library from Royal Botanic Gardens Kew, Library, Art & Archives.

Labillardière arrived back in France in 1789 with a collection of nearly 1,000 dried plants and many living specimens. The living plants were given to André Thouin, head gardener of the King’s Garden, while the dried collections were purchased by Le Monnier, the King’s doctor. Labillardière then set out to publish the results of his expedition (Allorge 2006, 306).

Icones Plantarum Syriae Rariorum was published in five parts between 1791-1812. Thanks to the Royal Botanic Gardens Kew, Library, Art & Archives, you can explore the entire work for free in the Biodiversity Heritage Library.

Labillardiere, Jacques Julien Houtton de. Icones plantarum Syriæ rariorum. Decas Quatra. 1812. Engraving after Pierre-Antoine Poiteau. Contributed in the Biodiversity Heritage Library from Royal Botanic Gardens Kew, Library, Art & Archives.

“Decas Primas” of Icones Plantarum Syriae Rariorum, issued in 1791, included 22 pages and 10 engraved plates after artwork by the Redouté brothers, Pierre-Joseph and Henri-Joseph. Nicknamed “the Raphael of flowers,” Pierre-Joseph is possibly the most celebrated flower painter in the entire history of botanical art. He published over 2,100 plates depicting over 1,800 species – many of which had never before been illustrated for publication – throughout his career (Tyrrell 2018). Born to a family of Belgian painters, both of Pierre-Joseph’s brothers, Henri-Joseph and Antoine-Ferdinand, also, unsurprisingly, became painters.

After the “Decas Second” was issued in 1791, featuring 18 pages of text and another 10 plates again by the Redouté brothers, Icones Plantarum Syriae Rariorum experienced a hiatus in publication of nearly two decades as Labillardière embarked on an expedition under Rear Admiral Bruni d’Entrecasteaux in search of the ships La Boussole and L’Astrolabe, which had disappeared several years earlier after leaving Botany Bay, Australia. The voyage provided Labillardière with the opportunity to collect additional botanical specimens in Australia and Tasmania (Allorge 2006, 306).

Labillardiere, Jacques Julien Houtton de. Icones plantarum Syriæ rariorum. Decas Quinta et Ultima. 1812. Engraving after Pierre-Antoine Poiteau. Contributed in the Biodiversity Heritage Library from Royal Botanic Gardens Kew, Library, Art & Archives.

Having returned to France in 1796, and after being elected to the French Academy in 1800, Labillardière continued classifying the plants from his Levant expedition. “Decas Tertia” of Icones Plantarum Syriae Rariorum, containing 16 pages and 10 plates, appeared in 1809, followed by “Decas Quatra” and “Decas Quinta et Ultima”, both in 1812 and also consisting of 16 pages and 10 plates each. The plates in the final three parts were engraved after drawings by Pierre-Antoine Poiteau and Pierre Jean François Turpin (ibid., 307).

Labillardiere, Jacques Julien Houtton de. Icones plantarum Syriæ rariorum. Decas Quatra. 1812. Engraving after Pierre-Antoine Poiteau. Contributed in the Biodiversity Heritage Library from Royal Botanic Gardens Kew, Library, Art & Archives.

Published over a 21 year period in five parts and 50 plates, complete copies of Labillardière’s Icones Plantarum Syriae Rariorum are rare. We are grateful to Kew Gardens for digitizing their copy and ensuring that everyone, everywhere can enjoy this rare treasure through the Biodiversity Heritage Library.

References

Allorge, Lucile. 2006. “French Naturalists in the Levant During the Ottoman Empire.” Medicographia, 28, no. 3: 301-309.

Rix, Martyn. 2012. The Golden Age of Botanical Art. Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press.

Tyrrell, Katherine. 2018. “About Pierre-Joseph Redouté.” Botanical Art and Artists. Accessed on September 20, 2018. https://www.botanicalartandartists.com/about-pierre-joseph-redoute.html.

On September 12, 1967 Ralph Axtell, of the Biology Department of Southern Illinois University, called the Smithsonian Institution using the teletype connected to his time-shared computer and asked for a [computer] program for the calculation of standard deviations. The Smithsonian then sent him two computer programs. This demonstrated that, using data communications equipment and telephone lines, “it is fast, practical, and feasible to exchange programs in the BASIC language, written for use by biosystematists, between institutions in the United States.” A revolution had begun that would transform museums, research, systematics and science.

The following day, Dr. James A. Peters produced the inaugural issue of the MUDPIE (Museum and University Data Program and Information Exchange) Newsletter.

MUDPIE newsletter documents many early events in the adoption of computers and timesharing computing in museums and universities, and was founded and produced by Dr. Peters, the only editor in the newsletter’s publication history. Twenty-six issues of MUDPIE were produced and distributed over a five-year period, between September 1967 and September 1972. All issues are now digitally available at the Biodiversity Heritage Library thanks to the Smithsonian Libraries.

MUDPIE Newsletter masthead, number 1, September 13, 1967. Photo by David Bridge.

The length and contents of each MUDPIE issue varied depending on the amount of information available; it was published irregularly from two and eight issues per year; one to seven pages per issue. Peters’ name appeared infrequently; however some MUDPIE articles were signed with his initials “(JAP)”. The publication of the MUDPIE newsletter ceased with his untimely death.

Dr. James Arthur Peters (June 13, 1922 – December 18, 1972), biologist and herpetologist, held two positions in the National Museum of Natural History (NMNH), Division of Reptiles and Amphibians at the Smithsonian Institution, first as Associate Curator (1964–1967), and later Curator (1967–1972).

Dr. James Arthur Peters, herpetologist and MUDPIE editor, National Museum of Natural History, Smithsonian Institution. Smithsonian Archives, SIA2010-3050.

Dr. Peters clearly stated his aspirations in the first issue: “MUDPIE represents an attempt to keep everyone up to date on the development of time-shared computing in museums and universities engaged in systematic research. Several individuals receiving this first copy had written asking the same questions, and this is a quick way of answering them. There was a tremendous temptation to set it up so that it could be received only through the teletype and computer — but that proved to be a little too advanced for the present!”

This newsletter was a pioneering example of “electronic networking” between people. It foreshadowed the development of Usenet newsgroups, mailing lists, Listserv software, BITNET, and Internet Forums.

Two years later Dr. Peters wrote (p. 4) under the heading Participation in the Making of Mudpies: “There seems to be a genuine interest in the continued existence of this Newsletter, to judge from the number of people in the natural history museum business who have requested to be placed on the mailing list. We will continue to put it together and get it out at irregular intervals, but we have no objection at all to any of you who have something that you think might be of interest to others and send it in for inclusion to MUDPIE. We have had no indication of specialized programs written for use by systematists, for example, in the last few issues, but it is quite likely that such work is being done.”

Caroline A. Bull interviewed Dr. Peters on April 25, 1969, and provided an independent assessment (p. 47): “Museum and University Data, Program and Information Exchange, known by its acronym MUDPIE. There are six institutions which participate actively in the exchange.  Each has computer access and cooperation ranges from the exchange of [paper] tapes to actual direct access to storage units. The direct access capability occurs only between the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History and the American Museum of Natural History in New York. Since these two [organizations] share the same central computer at C.E.I.R.[1] in Silver Spring, Maryland, each may tap into the others’ data bank and exchange messages and data directly. These two form the nucleus for a major network, which could involve other Institutions on the Northern Atlantic Seaboard. In addition to its computerized information exchange, MUDPIE circulates a monthly newsletter to some 100 individuals and institutions.”

The period 1967-1972 was well before the development of personal computers and major advances in data communications. The Teletype Model 33 ASR (Automatic Send and Receive) was the likely computer terminal of choice for time-sharing computing activities by MUDPIE members during this time-period. The Teletype was an electromechanical device which stored data and computer programs on punched paper tape in ASCII code. A Teletype Model 33 terminal that was used at the Smithsonian was connected to a telephone line using an acoustic modem, see illustration in Peters and Collette [2].

After Peters’ death George R. Zug [3]wrote: “James A. Peters died on 18 December 1972 of liver cancer. With his death, we have lost the most ardent supporter of a low cost museum and university time-sharing computer network. He had seen the concept of computer networks gain wider acceptance and had just participated in the first general working seminar on a National Science Computer Network in mid-November.

Jim established MUDPIE in 1967 in order to promote the use of time-sharing and the establishment of a computer network among the major American natural history museums. The scope of MUDPIE gradually broadened to encompass the use of time-sharing in all types of museums and for the analysis of all types of data, including systematic data.”

No copy of the MUDPIE mailing list is known to have survived. However, among Dr. Peters’ papers in the SI Archives[4] is a folder labeled “MUDPIE Letters”. This includes more than 120 items of correspondence largely related to MUDPIE memberships, but also includes some requests for reprints of publications listed in MUDPIE issues. In this folder there is a handwritten list of 24 names, labeled “MUDPIE #1”, which appears to be the initial newsletter distribution list. In April 1969, Bull and Shank, (p.47) reported that the membership was “100 individuals and institutions”. Requests to be added to the mailing list could have been received verbally in person, by telephone, etc. The “MUDPIE Letters” folder is certainly not a comprehensive list of names and organizations.

As word of MUDPIE newsletter spread and interest in computers grew, membership increased also. Bruce Collette[5], (p. 390) observed that, “The mailing list for MUDPIE was over 250, an indication of how much effect the interest and dedication of one man can accomplish.”

Outcome

This free interchange of data and computer programs probably seemed like a utopian dream for these early visionary of 1960’s, but has become the norm today with the adoption of open computer systems, open data standards, standardized software, high speed data communication networks, and of course, the Internet. The MUDPIE newsletter represents an important historical record of the early exploration of and developments in computer technology and its application in museums and systematic biology.

A special thank you is extended to the Smithsonian Libraries staff, particularly Martha Rosen of the National Museum of Natural History Library and its Smithsoniana Collection, who was a persistent advocate for preserving and improving access to the newsletter. And to the Preservation Services staff – Katie Wagner, Don Stankavage, and Michael Keeling – for their review, repair, and rehousing of the original MUDPIE newsletters.

The rehoused MUDPIE newsletters, ready for re-shelving. Photo by David Bridge.

Thanks also to Discovery Services staff – Erik Bergstrom and Dana Feil – for their review and re-cataloging, and for providing item-level description for the newsletters. And a final thank you to the Digital Programs and Initiatives staff – Jacqueline E. Chapman and Daniel Euphrat – for coordinating this process, digitizing the newsletters, and including them in the BHL corpus.

[1]  CEIR or the Center for Enterprise Information Research was a commercial company which operated several computer data centers and provided, among other things, dial-up computer time-sharing service.

[2]  Peters, James A. and Bruce B. Collette. 1968. The role of Time-share computing in museum research. Curator 11(1):65-75.

[3]  George R. Zug, a colleague of Peters and Curator at the National Museum of Natural History.

[4]  Smithsonian Institution Archives, Record Unit 7175, Peters, James Arthur, 1922-, James A. Peters Papers, and Records of the Division of Reptiles and Amphibians, box 37, folder 8.

[5]  Collette, B. B., “James A. Peters”, Copeia, 1973 (2):388-390.

The information in this post is derived from the article “New Light on the Mycological Work of Lewis David von Schweinitz” (2018) by Jason M. Karakehian, William R. Burk and Donald H. Pfister, published in IMA Fungus: 9(1).

Plate 12. Conspectus fungorum in Lusatiae Superioris agro Niskiensi crescentium, e methodo Persooniana (1805). Figures based on drawings by Schweinitz. Icones fungorum Niskiensium served as a sketchbook to inform this work. Contributed to BHL by the LuEsther T. Mertz Library of The New York Botanical Garden.

In 1805, the “Father of North American mycology”, Lewis David von Schweinitz (1780-1834), published an account of the fungi in Niesky, Germany with his friend and mentor, Johannes Baptista von Albertini (1769-1831). Documenting over 1,000 species, including 100 published as new-to-science, Conspectus fungorum in Lusatiae Superioris agro Niskiensi crescentium, e methodo Persooniana is still referenced to this day as a classic mycological text and ecological record.

The Conspectus is illustrated with 12 hand-colored plates based on drawings by Schweinitz, each featuring 6-10 figures of new species described. Whenever possible, Schweinitz based his drawings on fresh specimens, but when this was not an option, he referred to fungarium specimens or to a collection of earlier watercolors he’d created of representative specimens.

Plate 178. Fungorum Nieskiensium Icones. (ca.) 1802-1805. v. 3. Contributed in BHL from the Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University, Library & Archives.

Today, these watercolor volumes are dispersed between several American institutions and offer a wealth of insight into the history and development of the Conspectus. A five-volume set created (ca.) 1802-1805 and bearing the title Fungorum Nieskiensium Icones is distributed between the Archives of the Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University, Philadelphia (volumes 1-3 and 5) and the Rare Book Collection, Wilson Library, University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill (volume 4). Nearly every specimen featured in the Conspectus has a corresponding illustration in these 5-volumes.

A volume of original watercolors consisting of copies of figures from the 5-volume set, bearing the title Icones Fungorum and created (ca.) 1818-1826, is held by the Herbarium Library, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, MI.

The earliest volume of original watercolors related to the Conspectus, however, is the Icones Fungorum Niskiensium, created (ca.) 1798-1802 and held in the archives of the Farlow Reference Library of Cryptogamic Botany at Harvard University. This volume (hereafter referred to as the Harvard Icones) served Schweinitz as a sketchbook of sorts, which he used to inform the final paintings in the 5-volume Fungorum Nieskiensium Icones and eventually the Conspectus itself.

Agaricus (Gymnopus) platyphyllus. Illustration from Fungorum Nieskiensium Icones v. 2, pl. 113, fig. 77 (left) and corresponding illustration in Icones Fungorum Niskiensium, pl. 23 (right). Contributed in BHL from the Library & Archives of the Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University and Botany Libraries, Farlow Reference Library of Cryptogamic Botany, Harvard University.

The Harvard Icones has been digitized in the Biodiversity Heritage Library thanks to the Botany Libraries, Farlow Reference Library of Cryptogamic Botany, Harvard University, while the 5-volume set is available in BHL thanks to the Library & Archives of the Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University and the Wilson Library of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. The Conspectus has been digitized in BHL by the LuEsther T. Mertz Library of The New York Botanical Garden.

The history of these watercolor volumes and their relationship to the Conspectus was recently examined in-depth within the article “New Light on the Mycological Work of Lewis David von Schweinitz” (2018) by Jason M. Karakehian, William R. Burk and Donald H. Pfister, published in IMA Fungus: 9(1). The article presents research made possible in-part thanks to the digital copies available in BHL.

As a sketchbook, the Harvard Icones provides a unique window into the development of Schweinitz’s research on the fungal species presented in the Conspectus. The 249 watercolor figures in the the Harvard Icones depict specimens he collected and painted during his time attending a Moravian seminary in Niesky. Most figures are labeled with a binomial in ink, although edits and annotations to the names throughout the work, as well as notes on the quality of the illustrated specimen, varieties, and colorations, illustrate the working-manuscript nature of the volume.

Plate 17. Merisma foetidum specimen labeled as “spec. parv.” [meager specimen]. Schweinitz, Lewis David von. Icones fungorum Niskiensium. (ca.) 1798-1802. Contributed in BHL from Botany Libraries, Farlow Reference Library of Cryptogamic Botany, Harvard University.

Fly-leaf featuring inscription for “Catherine Eliza Perceval”. Schweinitz, Lewis David von. Icones fungorum Niskiensium. (ca.) 1798-1802. Contributed in BHL from Botany Libraries, Farlow Reference Library of Cryptogamic Botany, Harvard University.

Born in Quebec in 1811, Catherine Perceval was the daughter of Anne Mary Perceval and Michael Henry Perceval. Anne had an interest in botany fueled by her association with other local female botanists, Christian Ramsay, the Countess of Dalhousie, and Harriet Campbell Sheppard. The group actively botanized together, and Anne is listed as a collector in several important botanical works of the era, including Hooker’s Flora boreali-americana ([1829]-1840) and Torrey and Gray’s A Flora of North America (1838-43).

The Harvard Icones passed into the Perceval family’s possession during a meeting in 1826 between Anne and William Darlington, a correspondent of Anne’s, at their mutual friend J. Daniel Steinhauer’s residence in Philadelphia. Schweinitz described Steinhauer as an “excellent friend…[and]…botanist”. As detailed in the IMA Fungus article, Schweinitz and Daniel Steinhauer were likely introduced by Daniel’s brother, Henry Steinhauer, who was also a friend of Schweinitz’s from his time at the Moravian seminary in Germany.

Henry had attempted to have copies made of the figures in Schweinitz’s 5-volume watercolor set, and towards this end, Schweinitz had given Henry his “Icones Fungorum Niesk’m” shortly prior to January 1818. The watercolor volume held in the Michigan Herbarium Library is the result of these endeavors. Karakehian et al. postulate that as part of this exchange the Harvard Icones may have ended up in Henry’s possession and passed to Daniel Steinhauer upon Henry’s death, after which it was passed along to Anne or directly to her daughter, Catherine (whose name is found in the Icones inscription).

Plate 49. Merulius crispus labeled as “inexplicat[us]”, reflecting doubt as to whether the specimen was a fungus. Similarly, label of “Substantia aquatica” [watery substance]. Schweinitz, Lewis David von. Icones fungorum Niskiensium. (ca.) 1798-1802. Contributed in BHL from Botany Libraries, Farlow Reference Library of Cryptogamic Botany, Harvard University.

Microbiologist and mycophile Elio Schaechter eventually purchased the volume from the book dealer and showed it to Donald Pfister at the Farlow Herbarium, whose research ultimately allowed him to attribute the work to Schweinitz. He also generated a manuscript index to the illustrations, which has also been digitized in BHL along with the Harvard Icones itself.

In the early 2000s, David Hewitt of the Farlow Herbarium was the first to propose that the Harvard Icones served Schweinitz as a sketchbook after comparing it to the four volumes of watercolors held at the Academy of Natural Sciences. Karakehian et al. support this conclusion, presenting further evidence within their IMA Fungus article including the incomplete quality of the sketches, the lack of any systematic arrangement of the specimens on the plates, and the annotations reflecting edits or uncertainty about species identifications, none of which are present in the five-volume set or the Conspectus.

Plate 20. “Clavaria monstrosa” label indicating an anomalous specimen. Question marks indicating uncertainty over “Mycena leptocephalus” identification. Schweinitz, Lewis David von. Icones fungorum Niskiensium. (ca.) 1798-1802. Contributed in BHL from Botany Libraries, Farlow Reference Library of Cryptogamic Botany, Harvard University.

The research presented by Karakehian et al. provides novel insight into the development of a foundational mycological work. As Karakehian explains,

“These watercolor volumes are part of the knowledge-base that Schweinitz employed in his studies of American fungi. Therefore, understanding the history of these volumes is essential not only to a clearer understanding of the American mycobiota, but to an elucidation of the depth of the scientific knowledge-base at the founding of mycology in North America.”

Plate 6. Trichia rubiformis labeled as “statu jun.” [immature state]. Schweinitz, Lewis David von. Icones fungorum Niskiensium. (ca.) 1798-1802. Contributed in BHL from Botany Libraries, Farlow Reference Library of Cryptogamic Botany, Harvard University.

“It is important to note that much of this work that resulted in this paper was made possible because archives, manuscripts and books are becoming increasingly available through digital efforts being made around the world.”

Given the unique and rare nature of the  Harvard Icones, the book was scanned at Harvard using an Internet Archive TableTop Scanner that is shared with between the Harvard Botany Libraries and the Ernst Mayr Library of the Museum of Comparative Zoology.  This mini version of an Internet Archive scribe allows Harvard librarians to scan rare or fragile materials without the wear and tear of off-site transportation. Once scanned, the Internet Archive processed the images and the final product was made accessible in the Internet Archive and BHL.  We are so grateful to the Botany Libraries, Farlow Reference Library of Cryptogamic Botany, Harvard University for all of their work to digitize the Harvard Icones in BHL and make it freely available to the world.

Similarly, we extend our sincere thanks to the LuEsther T. Mertz Library of The New York Botanical Garden, the Library & Archives of the Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University and the Wilson Library of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, for digitizing Schweinitz’s Conspectus and other, complementary archival works, ensuring that they are also now freely available through BHL.

Take a closer look at how BHL facilitated research on these remarkable archives with our BHL User series, where Karakehian provides more insight into BHL’s impact on his work to unravel the mysteries surrounding Schweinitz’s Icones.

Post with contributions from Jason M. Karakehian (Master’s degree candidate at the Harvard Extension School), Judith A. Warnement (Librarian of Harvard University Botany Libraries), and Diane Rielinger (Digital Projects Librarian, Harvard University Herbaria & Libraries).

Natural history illustrations often aim to show life-like flora and fauna. Depictions of birds poised to take flight, fish swimming upstream, and mammals mid-stride are common in 18^th and 19^th century zoology and botany publications. What is lost in these often lavish illustrations is a certain truth about the way many naturalists interacted with their objects of study: many species of plant or animal were first encountered not in the wild, but in the display case, in the form of carefully prepared specimens.

One British naturalist, Captain Thomas Brown (1785-1862), made the practical observation that mounted animal specimens allowed naturalists to “contemplate, without dread, the most destructive and furious quadrupeds, and the most noxious reptiles.” It follows that many dangerous and rare species may not have been studied if not for taxidermy. Similarly, the building up of large and comprehensive natural history collections would not have been possible without a means of preserving specimens for the long term. As early collectors and naturalists quickly realized, proper taxidermy techniques were necessary to ensure that museum and cabinet collections did not degrade and disintegrate over time. Thus, a significant part of natural history is the rather unnatural history of taxidermy and specimen preparation.

Plate III. Brown, Thomas. The Taxidermist’s Manual, or, The Art of Collecting, Preparing and Preserving Objects of Natural History. 1833.  Contributed in BHL by The Thomas Fisher Rare Book Library, University of Toronto.

While elements of modern taxidermy can be traced back to ancient Egyptian embalming practices, taxidermy as a tool for the study of natural history did not come about until the mid-18^th century. French entomologist René Antoine Ferchault de Réaumur’s treatise, ‘Divers means for preserving from corruption dead birds intended to be sent to remote countries, so that they may arrive there in good condition…‘, published in the Transactions of the Royal Society in 1748, is often cited as the first comprehensive discussion of the topic. However, Réaumur proposed techniques for preparing specimens for shipment only, not long-term preservation or display.

More comprehensive techniques developed in the 19^th century into what many referred to as the ‘Art’ of taxidermy, and it was during this time that popular printed manuals on taxidermy proliferated. The Biodiversity Heritage Library currently includes over fifty examples of such manuals, published between 1799 and 1927.

Captain Thomas Brown, better known for his work in the field of conchology (the species of sea-snail Zebina browniania is named after him), published The Taxidermist’s Manual, or, The Art of Collecting, Preparing and Preserving Objects of Natural History in 1833. The work covers in rather gruesome detail the methods for skinning and preparing a range of mammals, fish and birds – including species as large as the elephant – as well as techniques for mounting smaller crustacea and insects. It includes “Mr. Waterton’s method for stuffing birds,” referring to the more famous naturalist Charles Waterton (1782-186), gives recipes for chemical compounds used in preservation, describes two methods for constructing false eyes out of enamel, and lists common prices for some of the supplies required. The manual also gives creative advice for mounting and positioning each species: sloths, for example, should always be mounted in an upright position, as they are seldom seen walking horizontally.

Brown’s general advice to the taxidermist is “copy nature whenever you have it in your power.”

Plate II. Brown, Thomas. The Taxidermist’s Manual, or, The Art of Collecting, Preparing and Preserving Objects of Natural History. 1833. Contributed in BHL by The Thomas Fisher Rare Book Library, University of Toronto.

The text is illustrated by plates cut by Scottish engraver Robert Scott. In stark contrast to the life-like creatures often found in many illustrated natural history volumes, the animals here (including what appears to be a poor domestic cat) are very clearly dead, though they are still idealized. More macabre images may be found on plates four and five, which show the various surgical instruments – scalpels, mallets and pliers – used in the various stages of animal taxidermy. Perhaps the strangest inclusion, however, is a short appendix in which Brown describes a newly discovered French technique for preserving the human body.

Plate VI. Brown, Thomas. The Taxidermist’s Manual, or, The Art of Collecting, Preparing and Preserving Objects of Natural History. 1833.  Digitized by The Thomas Fisher Rare Book Library, University of Toronto.

Popular works like Thomas Brown’s Taxidermist’s manual reveal in morbid detail the unnatural materials and practices that coincided with the study of natural history – the arsenic, wire, stuffing, and false eyes that naturalists employed in their attempts to “avert the process of Time’s destroying hand.”

This post originally appeared on the Smithsonian Libraries blog and has been republished at the permission of the author, Julia Blakely.

Tab. 6. Born, Ignaz, Edler von. Testacea Musei Caesarei Vindobonensis. 1780. Contributed in BHL from Smithsonian Libraries.

As a commemoration of the Imperial collection of shells in Vienna, the printed folio of Testacea Musei Caesarei Vindobonensis of 1780, is splendid. The eighteen engraved plates, carefully colored by hand, render individual specimens in the Habsburgs’ K.K. Hof-naturalien-Cabinet as if pieces of jewelry, casting shadows on a plain background of the thick, hand-made paper. Dedicated to the Empress of Austria, Maria Theresa (1717-1780), this production was also a work of science, as the task of arranging the shells in the Cabinet and describing them for publication was given to one of the leading scientists of the day, Ignaz Edler von Born (1742-1791).

Illustration. Born, Ignaz, Edler von. Testacea Musei Caesarei Vindobonensis. 1780. Contributed in BHL from Smithsonian Libraries.

Born, commissioned by Maria Theresa to arrange the entire royal natural history collections, was principally a mineralogist and metallurgist. But he had a great interest in shells and identified several new species. Systematists in malacology (the study of mollusks, including shells) still examine the originals, now in the Natural History Museum, Vienna (Naturhistorisches Museum), originally built to house the overflowing collections of the Habsburgs. The text of Born’s descriptions are also still used. It was first published in a much smaller format in 1778, in both Latin and German, with one plate as the only illustration. G.C. Kronenberg’s “Born’s strombs (Mollusca: Gastropoda),” a recent article that appeared in Annalen des Naturhistorischen Museums in Wien (2007), is one instance of scholarly work citing Born’s analysis.

Vignette. Born, Ignaz, Edler von. Testacea Musei Caesarei Vindobonensis. 1780. Contributed in BHL from Smithsonian Libraries.

Also attesting to the importance of Testacea Musei Caesarei Vindobonensis in scientific research, two copies of the folio second edition were once in the Division of Mollusks in the Smithsonian’s National Museum of Natural History, which holds the world’s largest shell collection (link). The books now reside in the Museum’s Joseph F. Cullman 3rd Library of Natural History. Alas, also indicating their scholarly worth, both volumes were rebound for practicality in sturdy library buckram, their original bindings lost (an earlier practice, happily no longer followed).

The second half of the 18^th century was a period when books were produced addressing the lack of illustrations in the enormously influential tenth edition of Carl Linnaeus’ Systema Naturae. In this two-volume work of 1758-1759, the Swedish author (now known more often by his modern name form, Linné) introduced binominal nomenclature for animals, but providing visual representations for publication was time-consuming and quite expensive. The Habsburg commission of Testacea Musei Caesarei Vindobonensis, employing the binominal system and current with Linnaean names and descriptions, filled the gap with essential information. The plates were designed by the artist Franz Fuxeder (1725-1797) and engraved by Karl Schütz (1745-1800) and J. Adam. The vignettes are sometimes signed by “Conti,” Schütz, or Johann Ernst Mansfeld (1739-1796).

Vignette. Born, Ignaz, Edler von. Testacea Musei Caesarei Vindobonensis. 1780. Contributed in BHL from Smithsonian Libraries.

Apart from the separately printed plates of carefully displayed shells, there are forty-eight small scenes or portraits interspersed in the text, all of them an absorbing delight of this sumptuous work on conchology. Given the royal funding, individually created vignettes, alluding to the subject at hand, were created. This was a significant expense in the hand-press period. Unlike woodcuts that could go through the printing press with the standing type, intaglio plates had to be separately printed after, but carefully registered with, the pages of text. The scenes portray shells in land- and seascape settings or within elaborate frames with lettered identifications matched up to their descriptions, serving the purpose of a visual footnote.

Venus and Mermen. Born, Ignaz, Edler von. Testacea Musei Caesarei Vindobonensis. 1780. Contributed in BHL from Smithsonian Libraries.

The images are a world of their own. One imagines the artists having fun with their knowledge and creativity. There are representations of cavorting mythological creations; mermen and mermaids make appearances. Two of the sea creatures play the supporting roles in an interesting interpretation of Venus on the Half-Shell, hoisting her aloft. Rather than her flowing hair or hand, a piece of seaweed provides the element of modesty for the nude goddess.

Publisher’s device. Born, Ignaz, Edler von. Testacea Musei Caesarei Vindobonensis. 1780. Contributed in BHL from Smithsonian Libraries.

The engraved publisher’s device on the title page is an allegorical vignette, with the god Hermes (Mercury in Roman mythology) presenting a volume to Athena (Minerva), goddess of wisdom, identified by the sacred (if startled) owl peeking over her shoulder. A putto hefts a book among a stack of other folios. The publisher, whose initials appear in a medallion festooned by a laurel adorning a carved platform, was Johann Paul Krauss (1701-1776), whose firm continued in business after his death. Following the dedication page is a more elaborate piece, with Poseidon sitting on an annoyed-looking porpoise (who served as the god’s messenger), presenting a shell to a female figure (representing the Empress?), who sits enthroned between a caryatid made up of shells and a cabinet of drawers from which puttis play with shells. Behind is an open book, with a plate of shells resembling this title. Visual homages to the Habsburg rulers, current and past, are made in here and throughout the work. Poseidon appears again in one small vignette, this time cruising along on a fierce-looking porpoise. His son, Triton (looking a little rough around the edges) emerges from the waves blowing a conch shell. He was known as the Trumpeter of the Sea.

Poseidon rides the waves. Born, Ignaz, Edler von. Testacea Musei Caesarei Vindobonensis. 1780. Contributed in BHL from Smithsonian Libraries.

Illustration of Triton. Born, Ignaz, Edler von. Testacea Musei Caesarei Vindobonensis. 1780. Contributed in BHL from Smithsonian Libraries.

The book also honors the greats in natural history, conveyed in engraved scenes at the beginning of sections of text. The first, in a chapter of Testacea multivalvia, celebrates Pliny, author of the encyclopedic Naturalis Historia. Mermaids and mermen join the tribute to the author, laying seashells at a tomb that bears his name. In the background is the Bay of Naples, with a puffing Mount Vesuvius in the background (Pliny died in AD79 while attempting rescues by ship of those caught by the eruption of the volcano). The second order, Testacea bivalvia, opens with an homage to Ulisse Aldrovandi (1522-1605?), the author of the first important work on shells, De Reliquis Animalibus of 1606. The last, for the third order, Testacea univalvia, is devoted to Linnaeus. There are a few shells scattered about the landscape; guarding the naturalist’s tomb are an eagle and a lion, whose paw rests on an unfortunate turtle. A whale breaches in the background.

Testacea multivalvia section of text, dedicated to Pliny. Born, Ignaz, Edler von. Testacea Musei Caesarei Vindobonensis. 1780. Contributed in BHL from Smithsonian Libraries.

Aldrovandi memorial. Born, Ignaz, Edler von. Testacea Musei Caesarei Vindobonensis. 1780. Contributed in BHL from Smithsonian Libraries.

Linnaeus’ tribute. Born, Ignaz, Edler von. Testacea Musei Caesarei Vindobonensis. 1780. Contributed in BHL from Smithsonian Libraries.

It is curious that there hasn’t been more published on the literature of shell books. There are legions of fine, detailed bibliographies in several natural history subject areas—birds, botany and horticulture, voyages of exploration, works of Charles Darwin—but little devoted to conchology. S. Peter Dance’s Shell Collecting: an Illustrated History(London, 1966) and a rare book dealer’s catalog by Antiquariaat Junk of the Netherlands, are two of the few resources.

This lack of scholarly studies in conchology publishing is remarkable, given that shells have been collected since the dawn of humankind, either for utilitarian purposes or for their beauty. In the Age of Discovery, European voyagers found an eager market for specimens collected in the South Seas. That the Empress of Austria commanded a publication on shells is an expression and record of her interest in Imperial trade and expansion to far-flung locales as well as a contribution to the science of natural history.

Tab. 15. Born, Ignaz, Edler von. Testacea Musei Caesarei Vindobonensis. 1780. Contributed in BHL from Smithsonian Libraries.

Past Smithsonian curators, Isaac Lea (1792-1886), conchologist and geologist, and William Healey Dall (1845-1927), a renowned malacology paleontologist, were avid book collectors. The Cullman Library holds many books from their former collections and would be an excellent place to start compiling a bibliography. Dall’s copies of Filippo Buonanni’s Recreatio Mentis, et Oculi (Rome, 1684) and Thomas Martyn’s The Universal Conchologist (London, 1784) would be highlights; Born’s Testacea Musei Caesarei Vindobonensis another, once owned both by Lea and Dall. Many of these titles have already been digitized by the Biodiversity Heritage Library, available for exploring the imaginative worlds found in books on shells.

Tab. 7. Born, Ignaz, Edler von. Testacea Musei Caesarei Vindobonensis. 1780. Contributed in BHL from Smithsonian Libraries.

All images in this post are from the Cullman’s copy of Testacea Musei Caesarei Vindobonensis, which has been scanned for the Biodiversity Heritage Library. For comparison, below you can see a copy of the above illustration (Tab.7) from the copy held by Naturalis Biodiversity Center, also digitized in BHL, which has, unusually, uncolored plates.

Tab. 7 (uncolored). Born, Ignaz, Edler von. Testacea Musei Caesarei Vindobonensis. 1780. Contributed in BHL from Naturalis Biodiversity Center.