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A History of Ecological Sciences, Part 38A: Naturalists Explore North America, mid‐1820s to about 1840

2011; Ecological Society of America; Volume: 92; Issue: 1 Linguagem: Inglês

10.1890/0012-9623-92.1.64

2327-6096

Frank N. Egerton,

Folklore, Mythology, and Literature Studies

Click here for all previous articles in the History of the Ecological Sciences series by F. N. Egerton By the mid-1820s there were few American settlements beyond the Mississippi in the vast Louisiana Purchase. However, Americans began settling in Texas in the 1820s, and in 1836 Texans won a war of independence with Mexico; in 1845 Texas became a state. The vast Southwest belonged to Mexico until President James K. Polk provoked a war (1846–1848) and seized it, afterwards giving Mexico a U.S.-determined compensation. An imperialistic nation was eager to inventory its new real estate, and American naturalists were glad to oblige. Some naturalists continued private explorations, and the U.S. Government continued to sponsor expeditions, and on a larger scale than before. This survey discusses (hopefully) the most important naturalists; for others, see book-length works. Many of the general and specific sources cited in Part 33 (Egerton 2009:434) are also helpful for this period. Additional sources include Robert Bruce, The Launching of Modern American Science, 1846–1876 1987, Margaret Welch, The Book of Nature: Natural History in the United States, 1825–1875 1998, Lester Stephens, Science, Race, and Religion in the American South: John Bachman and the Charleston Circle of Naturalists, 1815–1895 2000 and three histories of natural history studies in the Southwest: Samuel Geiser, Naturalists of the Frontier 1948, Edward Wallace, The Great Reconnaissance: Soldiers, Artists and Scientists on the Frontier, 1848–1861 1955, and Dan Fischer, Early Southwest Ornithologists, 1528–1900 2001. Several naturalists who had explored before 1825 (Egerton 2009) continued doing so. Thomas Say (1787–1834), who had gone on expeditions in 1820 and 1823, joined Robert Owen's utopian community, New Harmony, at the edge of civilization in southwest Indiana. He went there in January 1826 with his patron, William Maclure (1763–1840), a geologist (Warren 2009). They were accompanied by Charles-Alexandre Lesueur, whom we met in Part 35 (Egerton 2010:177) as an early student of plankton. He had come to America with Maclure in 1816 and had also been active in the Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia (Schwarz 1997b, Stroud 1999b). Their departure was a blow to the Academy. These explorers underestimated the difficulties of involvement with the Academy from afar. However, they were in a good location to study a fauna little disturbed by Euro-Americans. In America, Lesueur aspired to write a natural history of American fishes. He was a talented artist, and like many other artist–naturalists since the time of Leonardo da Vinci, he was more persistent at drawing than at writing, and his work remained unfinished. However, he published a number of articles describing unknown species (Ord 1849:215–216). One example is Lesueur's “Descriptions of the five new species of the genus Cichla of Cuvier” (1822). He explored from Philadelphia, and later from New Harmony, with trips along the Ohio and Mississippi rivers, and he frequented fish markets, but also caught his own fish. He was the first naturalist to study Great Lakes fishes. He named five genera, three of which are considered valid (Jackson and Kimler 1999:529). Besides illustrating his own studies, he illustrated natural histories of others. He also drew over 1200 sketches of the American frontier, the earliest such illustrations for places he visited; many of them are now published (Jordan 1933, Vail 1938, Hamy 1968, Stroud 1992:162, 176–181, 227). Thomas Say had begun publishing articles on both insects and bivalves in Philadelphia, and since he also began publishing American Entomology (1824–1828) before leaving there, those three volumes were discussed in Part 33 (Egerton 2009:468–470). However, since he only began publishing his seven-part American Conchology (1830–1836) after moving to New Harmony, it is discussed here. The boat, Philanthropist (later dubbed the “Boatload of Knowledge,” illustrated by Lesueur in Stroud [1992:180–181]), that carried the naturalists from Pittsburgh on 8 December 1825 down the Ohio and Mississippi rivers and up the Wabash to New Harmony, also carried several women from New York City, including Lucy Way Sistare (c.1800–1886; portraits in Weiss and Ziegler [1931:facing 214], and Stroud [1992:270]), whom Say later married. Charles-Alexandre Lesueur, by Charles Willson Peale, 1818. Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia. She drew 66 plates for American Conchology, the remaining two being by Lesueur, Lucy's art teacher (Stroud 1992:243–244). She also supervised the hand coloring of the prints and did much of the coloring herself. Because of the difficulty of publishing books in Philadelphia with authors in New Harmony, Maclure bought a printing press, which published American Conchology (Banta 1938, MacPhail 1983a). Both this work and Say's earlier articles on bivalves were reprinted posthumously (Say 1858). Although many explorers returned to civilization and published their own discoveries, other naturalists did little or no exploring but served the cause of exploration by publishing the discoveries of others. We met George Ord (1781–1866) in Part 33 (Egerton 2009:458–459) as a member of the Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia and as Alexander Wilson's colleague, who finished the American Ornithology after Wilson died. Ord went on one expedition to Florida and on shorter trips around Philadelphia with Wilson, but primarily published the discoveries of others. So did two other members of the Academy, physicians John Davidson Godman (1794–1830) and Richard Harlan (1796–1843). Both taught medical students. Harlan was interested in paleontology and studied western mammals brought back East by Nuttall, Titian Peale, and Audubon (Bell 1972, Faul 1997b, Gerstner 1999). He included both living and fossil mammals in his Fauna Americana 1825, which emphasized anatomy and classification. Godman was busy writing his own survey of mammals entitled American Natural History (three volumes, 1826–1828), which included uncolored plates of mammals drawn by Lesueur (Fig. 4). Wolves, drawn by C. A. Lesueur, engraved by F. Kearny. Godman 1826–1828. Cichla aenea. Lesueur 1822:facing 214. Unio ventricosus. Say 1830–1836. Harlan and Godman's works were more complementary than overlapping, but Godman sought to protect the market for his own pending work by publishing a harsh review of Harlan's (Stroud 1992:206–207, Welch 1998:54–55). Harlan could give as good as he got, and published an attack on an anatomy text that Godman had published in 1824. Harlan also published four articles on American herpetology (1825–1835) which Adler reprints (Adler 1978a). Godman had to give up teaching because he was dying of tuberculosis (Morris 1974, Porter 1983:75–76, Faul 1997a, Carey 1999). In his last year of life he wrote a dozen nature essays for a Philadelphia weekly, Friend, and he may have been first to publish a regular series of nature essays. They were collected into a small posthumous book, Rambles of a naturalist 1833, that has been compared to Gilbert White's Natural History of Selborne (1789). However, White wrote in detail for other naturalists about new discoveries (Egerton 2007), while Godman wrote briefer popular essays. Another naturalist who never went far beyond the Atlantic coast was Charles- Lucien Jules Laurent Bonaparte (1803–1857), Napoleon's nephew, who was born and died in Paris, but grew up in Italy and England (Petit 1970, Stresemann 1975:153–169, Brodhead 1978, 1997, Farber 1982:116–119, 121–122, Mearns and Mearns 1988:75–82, Stroud 1999a, Walters 2003:102–103). His political sympathies were democratic, though he was more interested in natural history than politics. He sailed to New York in August 1823 and arrived on 8 September. During the voyage he caught fish, turtles, and birds, including petrels (Stroud 2000:34). He and his wife moved to Philadelphia in early January 1824, and on the 13th Bonaparte attended a meeting of the Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia at which Say read Bonaparte's paper on stormy petrels, which later appeared in the Academy's Journal (Bonaparte 1824). On 24 February he was elected a member. The Academy's collections included undescribed birds that Titian Peale and Say had collected on the Long Expedition, 1819–1820 (Egerton 2009:462–468). Bonaparte was interested in determining which American bird species were the same as in Europe, and he found some species where Wilson had thought that the males and females were of different species. Bonaparte thought that Wilson had named some species already named by Europeans, especially Vieillot (Egerton 2009:459). Bonaparte decided, therefore, to write a continuation of Wilson's volumes (Bonaparte 1825–1833). However, Bonaparte was a systematist, not a natural historian, and for his information on natural history he drew upon the observations of others. In April 1824 a mutual friend introduced him to Audubon, and their relationship proved mutually beneficial, despite occasional friction. Bonaparte introduced Audubon to the naturalists at the Academy, where Audubon had a mixed reception—welcomed by some, but not by Wilson loyalists (Stroud 2000:55–57, Rhodes 2004:220–223). In October, Bonaparte hired Peale to collect birds for him in Florida, 24 October 1824–25 April 1825 (Poesch 1961:49, Stroud 2000:53–54). Peale had become head of his deceased father's museum, and specimens he painted and Bonaparte described were deposited there. Charles-Lucien J. L. Bonaparte, by Charles de Châtillon, before he went to America. Museo Napoleonico, Rome. With the exception of a very imperfect description, little was known relative to this interesting bird anterior to Long's expedition to the Rocky Mountains. One of his notes annexed to the account of that journey contains an excellent description of this swallow, with a notice of its habits, and remarkable manner of building. Mr De Witt Clinton has recently published a paper on the same subject, accompanied by some observations from Mr Audubon. Combining what these gentlemen have made known with the information previously given by Vieillot and Say, we can present a tolerably complete history of the cliff swallow. Bonaparte did not get along well with Ord, and both were disappointed when Say, Lesueur, and Maclure left Philadelphia for New Harmony. Since Bonaparte's ties to Philadelphia were weakened, he traveled to New York, London, and Brussels and back again before leaving America permanently on 5 January 1829. In A Geographical and Comparative List of the Birds of Europe and North America 1838, Bonaparte separated out a new genus of doves from the overly-broad Columba and named it Zenaida, after his wife (Mearns and Mearns 1992:101–104). A gull that Ord named Larus philadelphia received its common name, Bonaparte's Gull in 1931 (Mearns and Mearns 1992:94–100). …they have neglected to verify, or properly notice my previous labors, although they were known to them. Mr. Say is, above all, inexcusable. I had respectfully noticed, in 1820, his previous labors; but he has never mentioned mine, and knows so little of the animals of these shells, as to have mistaken their mouth for their tail, and their anterior for the posterior part of the shells! If he had seen these animals alive, feeding, moving, and watched their habits as I have done repeatedly, he would not have fallen into such a blunder. Since Say had lost interest in Rafinesque's work, he may not have read this rebuke. In 1833, Rafinesque, in Herbarium Rafinesquianum, announced “the great universal law of PERPETUAL MUTABILITY in every thing” (quoted in Hanley 1977:141). In Part 33 (Egerton 2009:472) we saw that Rafinesque, in Botany of Kentucky 1819, divided that state's vegetation into four, or possibly five, floristic regions. In his New Flora of North America 1836, he divided North America's vegetation into seven floristic regions (Ewan 1969:116). He wrote 9 botanical letters to Augustin-Pyramus de Candolle, 1817–1821, and 13 more, 1830–1839 (Baehni 1957). John James Audubon (1785–1851) is the most famous American naturalist (Peattie 1936:240–243, Welker 1955:71–90, Adams 1969:182–197, Stresemann 1975:312–314, Elman 1977:80–123, Kastner 1977:207–239, Farber 1982:105–106, Gibbon and Strom 1988:58–75, Mearns and Mearns 1992:22–27, Blum 1993:88–118, Cooper 1997, Sterling 1999a, Fishman 2000:136–156, Moring 2002:124–135, Walters 2003:100–101). Henry David Thoreau is also popular, but Audubon has an edge, because his bird illustrations can be immediately appreciated upon seeing them, whereas one must take the time to read Thoreau's writings to appreciate him. There are more biographies of Audubon than of any other American naturalist—far more than are listed here (Herrick 1917, Ford 1964, Adams 1966, Streshinsky 1993, Rhodes 2004). He also left substantial autobiographical writings (Audubon 1897, 1965, 1969, 1999) He is an interesting challenge for a biographer, but a difficult challenge for a historian. He had artistic talent and spent much time observing and collecting birds and mammals, and he was an energetic and persistent artist and author. However, his education was limited, and his veracity fluctuated (Herrick 1917, Stroud 2000:56). His invention of 11 species of fish which he foisted off on Rafinesque was discussed in Part 33 (Egerton 2009:470–472). The challenge is to appreciate both his achievements and failings. His father was a French sea captain, and the son was more interested in drawing than in a naval education. To evade Napoleon's military conscription, the father sent him in 1803 to Pennsylvania to help manage a farm. He failed at that, but later he wrote that he had developed there, in 1805, a method of drawing birds by using wires to mark off a grid on a board to which he pinned his specimen, and he duplicated the grid on the paper on which he drew it (Audubon 1999:754–761). There he was fortunate to find a loyal wife, Lucy Bakewell (1787–1882), for they had many years of struggle before he achieved fame as an artist–author (DeLatte 1982). In 1807 they traveled to Louisville, Kentucky, where he became a partner in running a store. They had two sons there, who grew up to become his valuable assistants: Victor Gifford Audubon (1809–1860) and John Woodhouse Audubon (1812–1862). On March 19, 1810, Alexander Wilson entered the store, having been told about Audubon's interest in birds by Lucy's uncle, Benjamin Bakewell, when Wilson was in Pittsburgh (Rhodes 2004:63, 66). This was a very consequential meeting for Audubon, but not for Wilson (Welker 1955:48–58), who hoped to sell a subscription to his American Ornithology. Audubon was tempted, but the store was not prosperous and his partner persuaded him not to. Wilson's journal account of meeting Audubon and going on an excursion with him only appeared posthumously in Ord's biography (Ord 1828:clxvi). When Audubon read it, he felt slighted, and some Audubon biographers have suspected Ord altered it, since Ord was hostile to Audubon, and Wilson's manuscript has disappeared (Herrick 1917, I:223–224). Audubon later published his version of their interactions (1831–1839, I:437; reprinted in Herrick 1917, I:220–221), which must be read with caution. That was not the end of the matter; Audubon later accused Wilson of both plagiarism and failing to acknowledge Audubon's information in his account of the whooping crane. Neither accusation has withstood scrutiny (Burns 1908a, b). On the other hand, Audubon's unacknowledged copy of several Wilson illustrations in Birds of America (four volumes, 1826–1838) are obvious (Welker 1955:Figs. 7–12, Cantwell 1961:250–251, Hunter 1983:92–97 + Figs. 15A–17B). For example, Wilson's right-facing male Mississippi Kite (Egerton 2009:fig. 18) became a left-facing female in Audubon's Plate 117 (1831). Audubon defenders have suggested that Audubon's publisher and engraver Robert Havell, Jr., might have added Wilson's figure to the plate without Audubon's knowledge, but if so, Audubon neither acknowledged this in later editions of Birds of America nor removed it from his plate. Some Audubon illustrations are very similar, though not identical, to Wilson illustrations, including the Bald Eagle (Wilson's No. 36, Audubon's No. 14). Audubon wrote that he had visited Wilson in Philadelphia in December 1811 while Wilson was working on that illustration (Wilson 1808–1814, IV: Plate 36). It is difficult to blame Havell for Audubon's illustrations very similar to Wilson's! Four mockingbirds defending a nest against a rattlesnake. The jasmine tree was drawn by an assistant, Joseph Mason, unacknowledged by Audubon. Audubon 1827–1838, I: Plate 21. John James Audubon, by Victor Gifford Audubon and John Woodhouse Audubon, about 1841. The American Museum of Natural History, New York. Florida rat (Neotoma Floridiana Say and Ord), male, female and young, by J. J. Audubon. Audubon and Bachman 1846–1854, I: Plate 4, Audubon and Bachman 1989: Plate 4. In the recession of 1819, Audubon went out of business, which freed him to pursue his ornithological ambitions. In his essay on Wilson, Audubon (Audubon 1999:535) pretended he had not thought of publishing his drawings until after he had met Bonaparte in 1824, but when he and his assistant, Joseph Mason, left for Louisiana on 12 October 1820, he had letters of introduction from Henry Clay and others stating his goal of publication (Herrick 1917, I:307). Audubon and Mason had a memorable stay, 18 June to 20 October 1821, at Oakley Plantation, near St. Francisville, Louisiana, where Audubon served as a tutor. He painted there about a quarter of the illustrations for his Birds of America, including mocking birds and a rattlesnake, and Mason painted in the background plants. Oakley House and a few acres are now preserved as Audubon State Historic Site (Durant and Harwood 1980:220–230, Rhodes 2004:195–204, Heitman 2008). As Audubon collected and painted, he consulted Wilson's American Ornithology: “We purchased this Morning in Market a Beautiful Blue Crane Ardea Cerulea….I Drew it, and its Cor[r]esponding so well with A. Willson Description Stopd Me from writing it Myself” (1999:89). Audubon aspired to outdo Wilson not only in observations and illustrations, but also in publications. Since Ord and Lawson were hostile to his efforts in Philadelphia in 1824, he sailed on 17 May 1826 to Liverpool, and eventually he found the engraver–publisher of his illustrations in Robert Havell, Jr., in London (Audubon 1897, I:79–342). The life-size plates were so large they were called “double elephant folio.” Publication of four huge volumes (1827–1838) was quite a feat, requiring Audubon to peddle his wares the way Wilson had his (Hart–Davis 2003, Souder 2004, Vedder 2006). To write his text, Audubon needed expert editorial help, and since he wanted to write it in Britain, he recruited Edinburgh naturalist William MacGillivray (1796–1852), who lacked knowledge of American birds (Mearns and Mearns 1992:309–314, Ralph 1993, Hart-Davis 2003:177–180, Bircham 2007:146–153). (MacGillivray later wrote A History of British Birds, five volumes, 1839–1843.) Audubon's Ornithological Biography (five volumes, 1831–1839) included not only his accounts of bird natural histories, but also “Episodes” on his experiences in America, intended as human-interest diversions. The episodes discussed Alexander Wilson (“Louisville in Kentucky”) and Constantine Rafinesque (“The Eccentric Naturalist”) (Audubon 1897, II:199–203, 473–480). He published an octavo edition of both illustrations (500 plates) and text, minus the episodes (seven volumes, 1840–1844). This also was a large undertaking (Tyler 1993). The episodes were republished in Audubon and His Journals (1897, II:199–527). After returning to America on 1 May 1829, Audubon traveled extensively (Durant and Harwood 1980), north to Labrador (Audubon 1897, I:343–445), south to Florida (Fishman 2000:136–156), and west to Texas (Geiser 1948:79–94) collecting birds and information. Audubon's last expedition up the Missouri River in 1843, in quest of mammals (see below), yielded a new bird species, Western Meadowlark, at Fort Union, North Dakota (Boehme 2000:120). He also named the Harris' Sparrow for friend Edward Harris, who accompanied him on the expedition; Townsend (see below) had prior claim for the scientific name, but Audubon's commemoration remains in the common name (Harris 1951: facing 48). One of Wilson's biographers decided to conclude on a gracious note an article defending Wilson from Audubon's slanders: “As to the two men's respective achievements, each was a citizen of the highest worth, the one as scientist, the other as artist” (Stringham 1953:52). That Audubon was an artist, but not a naturalist, had been previously stated in 1833 by Frédéric Cuvier (Farber 1982:106) and in 1845 by John Cassin (Peck 1991, I:3). However, it is inaccurate to dismiss Audubon as only an artist. Despite the fact that some of his claims can be shown to be deliberate fabrications, he went to considerable lengths to make detailed observations on wild birds, and even experimented to see if vultures could smell carrion—he found they could not (Audubon 1826). It is unlikely that he knew of Frederick II's comparable experiments during the 1200s (Egerton 2003:42). All scientists are prone to make “honest” mistakes; in Audubon's case, some of his mistakes were honest, but others were dishonest. A famous example in which Audubon's accuracy was challenged was his very dramatic illustration of mockingbirds, in which a rattlesnake seeks eggs in a nest. Different species of snakes ascend to their nests, and generally suck the eggs or swallow the young; but on all such occasions, not only the pair to which the nest belongs, but many other Mocking-birds from the vicinity, fly to the spot, attack the reptiles, and, in some cases, are so fortunate as either to force them to retreat, or deprive them of life. We can question Audubon's claims of snakes sucking rather than swallowing eggs, and his snake's eyes incorrectly have round pupils. Wallace Craig (1911:423–425), who studied captive Passenger Pigeons before they became extinct, criticized both Audubon's account and illustration. Five of Audubon's drawings cannot be identified to species; some may represent hybrid individuals (Parkes 1985). Susanne Low (2002) has facilitated research on Audubon's ornithology with a concordance of his bird names and those currently used. Audubon drew many insects and some lizards, some of which he copied onto his bird portraits (Ford 1952). On 17 October 1831, Audubon arrived in Charleston, South Carolina, in quest of subscribers for Birds of America and new birds to illustrate. There, he met John Bachman (1790–1874), a naturalist and Lutheran minister who had known Alexander Wilson while living in Philadelphia (Mearns and Mearns 1992:28–38, Shuler 1995, Sterling 1997a, Stephens 1999). Bachman already admired Audubon's work and invited him and his two assistants to stay at his house. They did, for a month. Audubon and Bachman became close friends, and later Audubon's sons married Bachman's two oldest daughters. In 1839 Audubon finished his Ornithological Biography, and he and Bachman agreed to produce a treatise on America's mammals. Audubon accepted Bachman's requirement: “the Book must be original & credible—no compilation & no humbug” (Shuler 1995:169). Audubon provided illustrations and Bachman the text (Welch 1998:56–58). Of course, such a work was a compilation, of their observations plus cited information from other authors. Audubon's last expedition was up the Missouri River in quest of mammals (Audubon 1897, I:447–532, II:1–195, Harris 1951, McDermott 1965, Durant and Harwood 1980:538–598, Boehme 2000). His and Bachman's Viviparous Quadrupeds of North America (1846–1854) exceeded Godman's American Natural History (1826–1828) in having colored plates, encompassing more species, and having more first–hand observations. There are considerable differences in the habits of this species in various parts of the United States, and we hope the study of these peculiarities may interest our readers. In Florida, they burrow under stones and the ruins of dilapidated buildings. In Georgia and South Carolina they prefer remaining in the woods. In some swampy situation, in the vicinity of sluggish streams, amid tangled vines interspersed with leaves and long moss, they gather a heap of dry sticks, which they pile up into a conical shape, and which with grasses, mud, and dead leaves, mixed in by the wind and rain, form, as they proceed, a structure impervious to rain, and inaccessible to the wild-cat, raccoon, or fox. Audubon drew bats (two reproduced in Boehme 2000:108–109 and five in Mearns and Mearns 2007:141), but Viviparous Quadrupeds omits bats and marine mammals. Bachman wanted to include both groups but Audubon refused (Peck 2000:107). Although Bachman's text was reliable, the illustrations lacked the vivid colors and liveliness of Audubon's bird illustrations, and Viviparous Quadrupeds never achieved the popularity of Birds of America. John Richardson (1789–1865) was a surgeon in the British Navy who studied for an M.D. degree at Edinburgh, and while there, studied natural history under Professor Robert Jameson. As surgeon and naturalist, he explored northern Canada with Sir John Franklin, 1819–1822 and 1824–1827, who was in quest of a northwest passage to China (Johnson 1976a, b, McNicholl 1997, Bown 2002:172–194, Johnson and Johnson 2004). The first expedition suffered hardships, the second went smoothly. During his extensive travels, Richardson observed and collected mammals, birds, fish, insects, vascular plants, lichens, and geological specimens. Those observations and specimens became the basis, first, for three appendices to Franklin's Narrative of a Journey to the Shores of the Polar Sea in the Years 1819, 20, 21 and 22 1823 on geology, fishes, and plants (Richardson 1823a, b, c); Joseph Sabine (1770–1830) wrote an appendix on Richardson's mammals and birds (1823 (1974). Second, Richardson used his collections and notes for his own Fauna-Boreali-Americana: or the Zoology of the Northern Parts of British America (1829–1837), in which he alone wrote the volumes on mammals (1829) and fishes (1836), and he collaborated with William Swainson on the volumes on birds (1831) and insects, the latter also with collaborator William Kirby (1837). When the editor of The Canadian Entomologist discovered that there were only two copies of Volume 4 in Canada, he began reprinting Kirby's contribution to that volume in his journal (Kirby 1870). Richardson's great work (all four volumes reprinted, 1978) effectively superceded Thomas Pennant's Arctic Zoology (two volumes + supplement, 1784–1887, edition 2, 1792), on Canadian mammals and birds, compiled without Pennant ever having seen Canada. Richardson's bibliography (Curvey and Johnson 1969, Huntley et al. 1972) shows he was a disciple of Humboldt, for he collected and published data on climate and vegetation at Hudson's Bay (1825), the Aurora Borealis (1828), topography and geology (1834), permafrost (1839), and on how to collect Arctic air temperature data (1839). Richardson's journal for the period, 21 August 1820 to 19 December 1821, survives and is now published (Richardson 1984). Its editor, Stuart Houston, provides six appendices of his own, which discuss Richardson's observations and collections on birds, mammals, fishes, vascular plants, lichens, and geology (in Richardson 1984:223–316). John Richardson. Johnson 1976a. The Rein-deer have been very numerous in this neighborhood for 15 or 20 days past. Their horns, which in the middle of August were yet tender, have now attained their proper size and are beginning to lose their hairy covering which hangs from them in ragged filaments. The fat is at this season deposited to the depth of two inches or more on the rumps of the males and is beginning to get red and high flavoured, which is considered as an indication of the commencement of the rutting season. The horns of the Rein-deer vary not only with its sex and age, but are otherwise so uncertain in their growth that they are never alike in any two individuals. The females and young males have shorter and less palmated horns and generally want a broad plate which runs forward betwixt the eyes and hangs over the nose in the older males…. Towards the spring the larvae of the oestrus [fly] attaining a large size, produce so many perforations in the skins that they are good for nothing. The cicatrices only of these holes are to be seen in August, but a fresh set of ova have in the mean time been deposited. The Rein-deer retire from the sea-coast in July and August, rut in October on the verge of the barren grounds and shelter themselves in the woods during the winter. The entire account was quoted in Franklin's Journal (1823:243–244) and in Richardson's Fauna Boreali-Americana, Volume I: Quadrupeds (1829:238–249, Fig. 10). Barren ground caribou Rangifer tarandus, var. arctica. Richardson 1829–1837, I:240. The plants collected by Richardson and Thomas Drummond (about 1790–1835) on the Franklin expedition were the main resource for William Jackson Hooker's Flora Boreali-Americana (two volumes, 1833–1840), that complemented the zoological works. Richardson's and Hooker's volumes were the first scientific publications subsidized by the British government, a welcome precedent for Charles Darwin, whose government-supported Beagle volumes soon followed. In 1845 Franklin led a third search for a Northwest Passage, and when he and 134 men failed to return, Richardson became co-leader of the first rescue expedition in 1847–1849. After 38 attempts, their remains were discovered in 1859 (Beattie and Geiger 1988, Beardsley 2002). Alexander Philip Maximilian, Prince of Wied-Neuwied (17