The Plant Press

From The Plant Press, Vol. 24, No. 4, October 2021.

A Sowerby surprise: Specimen digitization project finds original hand-painted engravings

By Julia Beros

They were found within the herbarium case of lichen specimens, following name and geographic order and next to cases of other lichen specimens. Then in a single cubby above and below other cubbies filled neatly by folders with CLADONIA marked on them, were a stack of lichen reference material filed right where it -could likely- belong. As digitizing the vast holdings of the U.S. National Herbarium makes its rounds of the collection, accruing over 3.5 million images, the conveyor project’s circumstantial overhaul of the Herbarium’s vast holdings has unearthed some one-of-a-kind objects.

Sometimes you discover a stray specimen or two and maybe some out-of-place photo slides or glass plates are apt to get misplaced in the herbarium. Museum Specialist Carol Kelloff recalls the time when Emeritus Curator Harold Robinson accidentally refiled a stack of specimens with his unfinished manuscript at the bottom of the pile—and after finding it much later, he published it, post haste! So it is not unlikely, although still surprising, when a stack of beautifully hand-painted original engravings are found amongst packets of aging lichens. Nearing the final cases of imaging and cuing up the Bryophytes and Algae, the digitization project has just imaged the lichen collection, transcribing the label data for inclusion in the database and to be more easily accessible. Including all parts of the herbarium in this project not only rounds out the database, it gives a clearer picture of our holdings, prioritizing needs amongst the collections, and renewing focus in underutilized parts of the collections. In the lichen cabinets, pages delicately torn from original publications of James Sowerby’s engravings are stapled tidily to specimen sheets and annotated with new or confirmed names at the bottom. 

The artist James Sowerby (1757–1822), an innate naturalist, studied at the Royal Academy in London and in combining these two passions “decided to be a painter of flowers.” He worked first with botanist William Curtis, who helped Sowerby develop a scientific eye which laid the foundation of his career as a scientific illustrator. His first published engravings that he hand-painted were plates in Curtis’ Flora Londinensis. A prolific illustrator, his work was published in many floras, mineralogy, and zoology books, and his sons, learning the trade from childhood, continued the Sowerby legacy of scientific illustration. 

The newly found lichen plates are no exception to Sowerby’s talent at capturing the necessary facets and personality of a specimen. Each image delicately outlining the lichen crusts and following the intricate details of these composite organisms often unnoticed as they adorn trees and stones. With an array of growth forms and a color palette that concentrates an entire forest scene, lichens have an enchantment unique to their symbiotic existence. On each page preserved in this collection the embossed rim of the engraving plate is tangible on the paper, lending a beveled frame for each lichen still life, their print series number lightly inscribed in the upper right. The illustrations themselves buoyantly hovering in the center of the page, expertly colored and shadowed, their forms obscured from the forest and showing off their sinuous curves, edges, bumps and ripples, tubes and fruticose straggles of “hair” and folding leaflike waves. While the descriptions and names of these lichens (some publications dating to the late 18th century) have certainly changed and may be obsolete, the illustrations remain illuminating, as their annotations are penciled in a whisper at the bottom corner of the page.

At the very least it was a pleasant surprise to find such lovely engravings, but it also stoked curiosity. Some of the sheets are stamped with “Missouri Botanical Garden” and some have the stamp crossed out, while others are blank. Some are accompanied by the adjoining lichen description page from its original book, others are bare on the sheet. With no outstanding loans from Missouri, it is unlikely that this is part of a forgotten return. Museum Specialist Meghann Toner also points out that at some point the entire Missouri lichen collection was transferred here (the history of which has never quite been elucidated, but probably has something to do with Mason Hale’s work). It could have been reference material collected at Missouri that were kept with the specimens and found a new home here. Botany Illustrator Alice Tangerini was also unsure about the story of this particular stack of plates. With a quick search she found many prints from books of Sowerby’s lichen engravings being sold (with varying price tags) on art websites, and even potential Sowerby florals at Washington D.C.’s Eastern Market. 

Whether for aesthetic or scientific use, Sowerby’s illustrations seem to crop up everywhere, as their history and botanical accuracy make them significant collections. This folio of plates in the herbarium cabinet is invaluable for research and the collections. This past January, Botanical Research Institute of Texas researcher and previous Smithsonian postdoctoral fellow Manuela Dal Forno, with colleagues Robert Lücking, Laurel Kaminsky, Gary B. Perlmutter, and James D. Lawrey published a paper describing a novel (and potentially extinct) species, Cora timucua, from historical collections supported by digitization of various herbaria (The Bryologist 123: 657-673; 2020). With the recent digitization of the lichen holdings here at the U.S. National Herbarium, hopefully more cross-institutional and historical research can be supported.

A find like this is a reminder of how valuable and inspiring our collections are, particularly when collections staff, volunteers, and contractors get bogged down by the many rote tasks necessary to keep an herbarium well-functioning and in safe order. Within each corner of the herbarium the smallest specimen has much to recall from its own history and much to inspire in the line of questioning for researchers. This is far from the only collection of engravings lying in wait. Tangerini tells me she has recently pulled out some plates of Quercus macrocarpa illustrated and subsequently translated into stipple engravings by Pierre J. Redouté and Pancrace Bessa, “but there should be many others scattered in the herbarium.” Many others ready for rediscovery. 

- The author thanks Carol Kelloff, Alice Tangerini, and Meghann Toner for their collections sleuthing.