History of Ecological Sciences, Part 38B: Naturalists Explore North America, 1838–1850s

Abstract

Click here for all previous articles in the History of the Ecological Sciences series by F. N. Egerton Beginning with the voyages of Captain James Cook in the later 1700s, both the British and the French governments had been sponsoring voyages of exploration, which were usually followed by publications on the discoveries, as seen in Darwin's voyage on the Beagle and Edward Forbes' voyage on the Beacon (Egerton 2010a, b). In 1838, after years of discussion, the United States Congress authorized a similar expedition, partly to provide information useful to whalers, and appropriated $150,000 to fund it. This expedition, which eventually cost $928,183, was an important event for the development of American science, including natural history (Dupree 1957:58–61, Poesch 1961, Reingold 1964:108–126, Tyler 1968, Stanton 1975, Hanley 1977:143–156, Viola and Margolis 1985, Bruce 1987:206–208, Moring 2002:111–123, Philbrick 2003). With six ships, it was the largest voyage of exploration ever organized. Its explorations included America's Pacific Coast and the Hawaiian Islands, though these investigations were small parts of a four-year circumnavigation of the world, June 1838–August 1842, covering 87,780 nautical miles. Heading the expedition was Lieutenant Charles Wilkes (1798–1877), who kept an iron grip on everyone's behavior and would be court-martialed for administering too many lashes when he disciplined crew members (Leonhart 1985, Sprague 1999). On the other hand, Wilkes led a successful expedition and spent much of the rest of his life (excepting Naval service during the Civil War) overseeing publication of 20 volumes of reports (1845–1876), including his own five-volume narrative plus atlas (1845), and his two other reports. Those narrative volumes were based upon all the journals that the officers and scientists kept. Like Captain Fitzroy of the Beagle, Wilkes was competent to measure magnetic variation and map coastlines, which he was first to do in Antarctica, a continent that the expedition discovered (Ehrenberg et al. 1985). Naturalists complained that Wilkes seldom gave them enough time to collect specimens, limited the number of specimens saved, and afterwards imposed restrictions on their reports. Congress was criticized afterwards for only appropriating $20,000 to publish just 100 copies per volume. Wilkes and three others had additional copies of their volumes printed privately (Bartlett 1940:630–633). There were 24 volumes planned plus several atlases; 20 volumes and 7 atlases appeared (Meisel 1924–1929, II:650–673, Haskell 1942:18–21). The letters and journal that Lieutenant William Reynolds (1815–1879) wrote during the voyage have only recently been published (Reynolds 1988, 2004) Titian Ramsay Peale after the expedition. Self-portrait, assisted by Rembrandt Peale. American Museum of Natural History, New York. (Porter 1986:131) Charles Pickering (1805–1878) was appointed naturalist; he spent much of his time studying plants and human biogeography (Eyde 1985:29–30, Watson 1985:59, Harmond 1997, Burchsted 1999). Pickering worked on a manuscript entitled “Geographical Distribution of Animals and Plants” for seven years and privately printed two parts of it in 1854 (Ewan 1969:117). Another naturalist was Titian Ramsay Peale, met in Part 33 (Egerton 2009:464), who collected and illustrated birds, mammals, and insects. Those tasks he performed well during the expedition. Should the traveler who has crossed the prairies of the Arkansaw and Missouri Rivers, ever visit Patagonia, he will find in that country many points of striking analogy to the interior of North America. The face of the country (pampas, being prairies under a different name) bears a strong resemblance; cavies take the place of hares. Larks (Sturnus militaris), like those of the north, are seen, having red instead of yellow breasts (Sturnus Ludovicianus), but alike in voice and habits. Every now and then, too, he will meet with subterranean “villages,” or little societies of Armadillos (Dasypus minutus, Desm.), whose social habits and abode are like the “Prairie Dog” (Artomys Ludovicianus, Ord), a species of Marmot, of the northern hemisphere. In those societies of Armadillos, there may be heard a kind of barking, like that produced by some of the German toy dogs—the same sound which has given to our Marmot the name of “Prairie Dog” by the French voyageurs. This cry in Patagonia was found to proceed from an Owl, so like that of the prairies of North America, that we fear it is not possible to convince all our readers that they are really different. The Patagonian Owl seldom or never alights on trees; it is only found in the pampas, and there inhabits the holes of the Armadillo. Its food, by dissection of the birds we shot, was found to be insects and lizards, both of which are abundant in that region. The most perfect harmony seemed to exist between the Owls and Armadillos, whose deserted holes only we suppose they take possession of, and there build their nests, and raise their brood undisturbed. They are found abroad during the day in the open pampas, under an unclouded sun; and when we were watching in the evening for their quadruped companions, which are much esteemed for the table, we found that the Owls had all retired to their holes; hence we conclude them to be, strictly speaking, diurnal. Musk parrots Prosopeia splendens and P. personata, by Titian R. Peale (1848: Plate 34). He thought the yellow-breasted bird was an immature P. splendens. Cassin 1858: Plate 20. This passage describes what ecologists now call ecological equivalents, in which different species play similar roles in similar ecosystems. After Peale wrote Volume 8 of the expedition report, Mammalia and Ornithology 1848, Wilkes submitted it to other naturalists for comment, and they reported that he had renamed species already known and had Latin misspellings (Stanton 1975:327–329, Porter 1985:130–134). Therefore, after most copies, in storage, burned, Wilkes refused to reprint them, and eventually turned over the specimens and information to John Cassin (1813–1869) of Philadelphia, America's leading ornithologist (Watson 1985:50–54, Porter 1986:130–134, Peck 1991, Mearns and Mearns 1992:130–136, Thorsen 1997, Sterling 1999b), who had published an illustrated book on the birds of the Far West (1852–1855, 1991). Cassin had access to the rich library and specimens of the Academy of Natural Sciences. Cassin redid the volume, using Pickering's journal, which Peale had not used. Cassin's Mammalogy and Ornithology (1858 + atlas, 1978) had a larger format, with 466 pages vs. Peale's 338 pages. Cassin's edition has 53 plates, 32 by Peale. However, Cassin's revision of Peale's accounts of Pacific petrels was unsatisfactory (Bourne 2008). Peale described six new species of porpoise, but there is little in either his or Cassin's volume useful to whalers. Peale's insect collection was lost when a ship, Peacock, sank, and no insect report was published. No satisfactory depository existed for the plant and animal specimens. Secretary of War Joel Poinsett established in Washington a private National Institute for the Promotion of Science to house collections (Haskell 1942:6–8, Dupree 1957:70–76), but it lacked sufficient financial and scientific support and faded away in 1844 (Kohlstedt 1971). The Peale Museum in Philadelphia was sold at auction in 1845 (Sellers 1980:307), and the Smithsonian Institution did not open the first wing of its building until 1849 (Oehser 1949:39, Hafertepe 1984). There was some loss and damage of expedition specimens before they were finally deposited in the Smithsonian, and they did not all arrive at the same time (Reingold and Rothenberg 1985). These specimens became part of the foundation of the U. S. National Museum, created by Assistant Secretary Spencer Fullerton Baird (1823–1887: Fig. 22b), who later became director of the museum (Dall 1915, Herber 1963, Allard 1970, Deiss 1980, Kastner 1986:17–29, Mearns and Mearns 1988:37–43, 1992:43–54, Rivinus and Youssef 1992, Evans 1993:30–35, Allard 1997, Barrow 1998:77–79, Jackson 1999). Baird had also brought his own substantial private collection of birds and mammals to the Smithsonian. Pickering was supposed to describe the fish, amphibians, and reptiles, but he became more interested in human racial biogeography and never described them. Louis Agassiz (1807–1873: Fig. 22a) at Harvard agreed to describe the fish, and his former apprentice, Charles Frédéric Girard (1822–1895), at the Smithsonian, agreed to describe the amphibians and reptiles (Sterling 1999c). Girard's volume (number 20) appeared in 1858, and he was one of three nominated for the Cuvier Prize at the Institute of France in 1861 (Jackson and Kimler 1999:517). The U.S. Navy had the government version published under Baird's name, not Girard's (Hanley 1977:150–151). Agassiz's modern biographer claimed that “Agassiz never wrote the report about the Wilkes Expedition fishes” (Lurie 1960:303). However, Watson (1985:66) found that Agassiz worked on the fishes for a decade and had a 2000-page manuscript by 1861, but the Civil War intervened, and it was never published. Agassiz did publish a “Synopsis of the Ichthyological Fauna of the Pacific Slope of North America, chiefly from the Collections Made by the U. S. Exploring Expedition” (1855). Joseph Drayton's 1470 field drawings of the fishes and some engraved plates still exist, and Watson (1985:67–68) published two drawings and one plate. The fish, the illustrations, and Agassiz's manuscript were sent to the Smithsonian in 1885, and in 1920 Henry Fowler studied the fish and illustrations (the manuscript was then mislaid but is now in the Smithsonian Archives), described 18 new species (Fowler and Beach 1924), summarized localities where collected, listed the 588 species in the collection, indicating 195 as new, and made outline drawings of 76 of them (Fowler 1940). Geckos or lizards (Girard 1858: Plate 18. [Blum p.193 or 200]). James Dwight Dana. Jaffe 1958. The collection of invertebrates was also fraught with difficulties. For the first time in scientific expeditions, coral reefs were to be studied by both a zoologist and a geologist (Sponsel 2009:253). Boston merchant and ship captain Joseph Pitty Couthouy (1808–1864) was the conchologist (Sponsel 2009:256–268), and he and Wilkes clashed about the number of specimens of any species that could be collected (Bayer 1985:71– 72); when Wilkes demanded he turn over his notebooks, Couthouy initially refused. While he was sick in December 1839, Wilkes banished him to Honolulu. After that, geologist James Dwight Dana (1813–1895) had to assume responsibility for coral specimens as well as structure of coral reefs and atolls (Jaffe 1958:266–278, Stanton 1971:550, 1975:323–325, Prendergast 1978:205– 206, Appleman 1985, McNamara 1997, Warren 1999). Dana later recalled reading, after the expedition reached Australia in November 1839, about Darwin's theory of coral formation and immediately accepted it as the best interpretation of his own findings (Appleman 1985:91, Stoddart 1994:26). After Dana arrived on Oahu on 30 September 40, he proposed to Couthouy that they collaborate on a coral reef report, showing him a manuscript of over 70 pages as a start (Sponsel 2009:275–276). Couthouy apparently agreed, then returned to Boston while Dana continued on the expedition's voyage. Meanwhile, Couthouy read before the Boston Society of Natural History on 15 December 1841 “Remarks upon Coral Formations in the Pacific” (published 1842). After Dana returned and read Couthoy's paper, he initiated a bitter dispute in scientific journals over priority and plagiarism (Sponsel 2009:281–292). But that was only an interlude before Dana published his expedition volumes. Besides his originally assigned volume 10 (1849, 756 pages) on geology (Haskell 1942:72–83), Dana also wrote Volume 7 on zoophytes (1848, 740 pages, atlas 1849, with 54 of 61 plates by Dana [Haskell 1942:53]) and Volumes 13–14 on the Crustacea (1852–1853, and collected and drew 94 of 96 plates in the atlas on Crustacea). His article “On an Isothermal Oceanic Chart, Illustrating the Geographical Distribution of Marine Animals” (1853) was important for arguing that northward or southward distributions of animals from the equator was limited by winter temperatures, not summer heat (Briggs and Humphries 2004:8–9). Actinia species. By Joseph Drayton, engraved by W. A. Wilmer. Dana 1849: Plate 1. Asa Gray (1810–1888) was appointed botanist to the expedition, but before leaving was appointed Professor of Botany at the University of Michigan (1838–1842, afterwards going to Harvard) and resigned from the expedition (Dupree 1959:66–70, 1972, Stafleu and Cowan 1976–1988, I:983–993, Keeney 1997, 1999a). He would reappear as author of Volume 15 and atlas of the expedition's report, Botany: Phanerogamia (1854, 777 pages and 100 plates) (Haskell 1942:83–88). He also wrote a second volume, never published (Haskell 1942:97). A poorly qualified plant collector, William Rich (b. 1800), then became botanist, and a British plant collector, William Dunlop Brackenridge (1810–1893), his horticultural assistant. During the 1800s Britain produced a series of outstanding plant collectors, such as David Douglas (1799–1834), who discovered about 7000 unknown species, mostly in America (McKelvey 1955:250–265, 299–341, 393–427, Thomas 1997). Brackenridge was another such collector, and he received a salary increase and promotion during the expedition (Peattie 1929, Eastwood 1945, Maloney 1945, Stafleu and Cowan 1976–1988,I:299, Eyde 1985:28–33, 1986). The largest collection of specimens from the expedition was 50,000 herbarium specimens, of 10,000 kinds. It became the nucleus of the National Herbarium, and live plants and seeds brought back became the basis for the U. S. Botanic Garden under Brackenridge (Eyde 1985:33–34, 40). Plants from Fiji and the Hawaiian Islands were especially interesting for unique species. When the expedition reached Fort Nisqually, Oregon Territory, Rich, Brackenridge, Dana, Peale, and others rode horses south to San Francisco, where they reconnected with the fleet. Rich and Brackenridge collected plants along the way. Brackenridge's partly published journal (1930–1931, 1945) helps reconstruct the journey (Eastwood 1945, Maloney 1945, McKelvey 1955:685–730, Beidleman 2006:99–109). Measuring trees in a “pine forest,” near Astoria, Oregon. Actually, Sitka spruce and Douglas fir. By Joseph Drayton, engraved by W. E. Tucker. Wilkes 1845:V, facing 116. After the expedition, Wilkes assigned botany to Rich, expecting two volumes of text and two of plates. By May 1845 Wilkes realized that the project was too big for one man and restricted Rich to plants of Fiji and the East Indies. In 1846 Rich turned in his manuscript and joined the Army headed for California in the Mexican-American War. Wilkes discovered that Rich's manuscript was incompetent and that the materials would have to be turned over to a qualified botanist. The ferns were assigned to Brackenridge (expedition Volume 16, 1854, and atlas, 1855). Ultimately, there were eight botanists who published descriptions of plants collected by Rich, Brackenridge, and Pickering (Bartlett 1940:628, Haskell 1942:89–92). The expedition had made a notable contribution to the advancement of natural history in America. Continuing overland explorations were not on the same scale as the ocean expedition in the 1840s, but those led by John Charles Frémont (1813–1890) attracted more attention than the former. He became known as “the pathfinder” (Chaffin 2002), but it would be more accurate to call him “pathmarker,” as Allan Nevins did in the title of his biography (1955), because Frémont was more of a describer and mapper; the expeditions he led were often into poorly known, rather than unknown territories, and those into unknown territories usually did not lead to new trails (Sterling 1997, Herr 1999). He attended the College of Charleston, 1829–1831, taught mathematics on a U.S. Navy ship, 1833–1835, then joined the U.S. Topographical Engineers to survey a railroad route from Charleston to Cincinnati. Proceeding through the Carolina mountains gave him a strong urge for wilderness exploration, strengthened by a later survey of Cherokee territory in those same mountains (Frémont 1887:18–26, 2001, Nevins 1955:19–28, Egan 1977:7–14). On 16 April 1838 he was appointed by the Bureau of Topographical Engineers as assistant to Joseph Nicolas Nicollet (1786–1843), a very capable French astronomer and geographer (Nash 1999) who was mapping the basin of the upper Mississippi River (Bray 1970, Jackson and Spence 1970–1984, I:3–4). John Charles Frémont. Artist unknown. Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts. Nicollet completed Frémont's training in mapmaking. They worked so well together during two summers that when they finished exploring the area between the Mississippi and Missouri rivers, they settled in Washington at the home of the head of the U.S. Coast Survey, Ferdinand R. Hassler, a Swiss scientist, and all three continued work on a map of the region just explored. Frémont met Senator Thomas Hart Benton (1782–1858), of Missouri, foremost proponent of “Manifest Destiny” (Smith 1999), and their mutual interest in western exploration led to a mutual attraction. When Benton introduced Frémont to his 16-year- old daughter, Jessie, it was love at first sight for both. Senator Benton was alarmed and had Frémont sent out to survey the Des Moines River. Frémont was delighted to have his own command, in the spring and summer of 1841. He hired botanist Carl Andreas (“Charles”) Geyer (1809–1853), who had introduced Frémont to botany during the Nicollet explorations (McKelvey 1955:754–755, Stafleu and Cowan 1976–1988, I:939, Ewan and Ewan 1981:84). Frémont mapped the Iowa Territory, came home to find Benton still opposed to his marrying Jessie, so they eloped in 1841. She became the same kind of indispensable mate to him that Lucy was to Audubon (Denton 2007). Senator Benton accepted their marriage, and Frémont became his agent for conquering the West—by mapping it for settlers. Frémont's western expeditions. For separate maps of his five expeditions, see Welsh 1998: following 136. Frémont led five transcontinental expeditions (1842–1853), the first three of which were quite important, while the fourth and fifth were disasters (Richmond 1989). McKelvey devoted a chapter to each of Frémont's first four expeditions (1955:753–769, 843–889, 914–931, 1039–1047); the fifth was beyond her end date, 1850, but Beidleman (2006:163–184) and Chaffin (2002:95–430) discussed all five. Nevins compiled an anthology of Frémont's own writings about his own explorations, 1837–1849, with three maps (Frémont 1956). Although not focused on natural history, David Roberts' A Newer World 2000, describes Frémont's first three expeditions. Charles Preuss (1803–1854), Frémont's cynical, but competent, German topographer, wrote a secret journal (1958) that provides a less flattering perspective of the first, second, and fourth expeditions than do Frémont's own reports. Frémont left Washington for his first transcontinental expedition on 2 May 1842 and reached St. Louis 20 days later. His first expedition, of about 25 men, included an indispensable guide, Christopher “Kit” Carson (1809–1868), whom he met on a steamboat in the Missouri River (Roberts 2000). Their objective was to explore and map the territory between the Missouri River and South Pass, in the Rockies, that had been discovered by fur trader Robert Stuart in 1812 (Goetzmann 1967:34). South Pass linked the Snake River in the West to the Wind and North Platte Rivers in the East, and it was on the Oregon Trail. They reached South Pass on 7 August (Jackson and Spence 1970–1984, I:252–253), then continued on along the west slope of the Wind River Range for over fifty miles until they reached a mountain that Frémont decided must be the tallest in the Rockies, which they climbed on 15 August. At the summit, the temperature was 44° and the elevation was 13,570 feet. A bumble bee lit on one man's knee and was collected for science. Later, a mountain was named Fremont Peak, thought to be the one he climbed, though now it is suspected that he had climbed today's Woodrow Wilson Peak, Wyoming (Jackson and Spence 1970–1984:I, 270). They were back in St. Louis on 17 October, and in Washington on 29 October. His second expedition, 1843–1844, the most productive for natural history (Beidleman 2006:163–173), explored the Great Salt Lake on the way to the Columbia River, south into Nevada, and across the Sierra Nevada into Sutter's Fort during winter. Frémont dictated two reports to Jessie, who was exceptionally well educated for an American woman in the 1840s (also a translator for Cabinet members), and between the two of them, they wrote exciting narratives; Congress authorized 1000 copies printed of the first report (1843) and 5000 copies of the second (1845), which included a reprint of the first. Senator Benton easily got them authorized (and he may have been responsible for limiting the Wilkes reports to 100 copies per volume). These reports made John and Jessie Frémont a celebrity couple (Denton 2007). Although Frémont did cross and describe “deserts,” he also reported fertile lands along the South Platte River and in the vicinity of the Great Salt Lake. To Brigham Young, the latter seemed to describe the refuge he sought for the harassed Mormons, and their settlement of Utah proved that it was (Frémont 1886:415–416, Goetzmann 1967:248–249, Hirshson 1969:80, Savage 1979:250, Denton 2007:94). Frémont did not take a botanist along on the first three expeditions, 1842–1846, but collected plants himself (Stafleu and Cowan 1976–1988, I:874–875, Beidleman 2002), which he turned over to botanist John Torrey (1796–1873), then at the College of New Jersey (later Princeton University) to describe (Rodgers 1942:150–171, Robins 1968, Harmond 1997, Keeney 1999b). Torrey's identifications and descriptions were included in Frémont's official reports (Jackson and Spence 1970–1984, I:286–311, 758–775, III:571–608). In his first report, Torrey named a common shrub of arid regions Fremontia vermicularis; in his second report, he described its range more fully, illustrated it, and acknowledged that Fremontia was the same genus as Nees' Sarcobatus (Jackson and Spence 1970–1984, I:305–306, 770–772). It is one of four illustrations of plants Frémont discovered that he reprinted in his Memoirs (1886: facing 640). Besides Torrey's botany, Frémont's reports included charts of latitude and longitude of places visited along with altitude, barometric and temperature, and weather data for his first two expeditions (Jackson and Spence 1970–1984, I:314–337, 778– 806). His third expedition, 1845–1847, became involved in imperial politics; he “conquered” California without firing a shot, then fell victim to a power struggle between Army and Navy and was court-martialed for insubordination. Although President Polk pardoned him, Frémont resigned from the Army. His narrative of the third expedition appeared in his Memoirs (1886:411– 602, abridged in Frémont 1956:427–508). Frémontia (Sarcobatus vermicularis Torrey). Frémont 1886: facing 640, Frémont 2001. In 1807 Robert Fulton took his steamboat, Clermont, from New York to Albany, and ushered in the steamboat era. Two decades later, steam locomotives were being driven down railroad tracks. The idea of a transcontinental railroad had been published in 1832 (Albright 1921:7–8), but it only became a realistic possibility in 1848, after the United States had seized the northern half of old Mexico (including Texas, independent since 1836) in the Mexican–American War. When Congress declined to fund a fourth Frémont expedition, Senator Benton found St. Louis businessmen to finance his exploration of a rail route from St. Louis to San Francisco. He took men mostly from previous expeditions. One of these was Philadelphia artist Edward Kern (1823–1863), who persuaded his brothers Benjamin (1818–1849) and Richard (1821–1853) to participate (Hine 1962:53, Ewan and Ewan 1981:123). Also new was botanist–gardener Frederick Creutzfeldt (Friedrich Kreutzfeldt d. 1853, Ewan and Ewan 1981:52). Frémont left Westport (Kansas City) on 20 October 1848, leading his men to the Colorado Rockies, and disaster (Wallace 1955:111–125, Hafen and Hafen 1960, Richmond 1989). They were unprepared for snow 10 or more feet deep, at 11,000 feet elevation, and he lost 10 men, plus 120 mules, and equipment. The remaining 22 men had all reached Taos by 11 February 1849, where Kit Carson (who was not part of this expedition) lived. Frémont was determined to continue on to California, and some of the men went with him, but not the disillusioned Kern brothers or Frémont's guide, Bill Williams. After they recovered, Bill Williams and Benjamin Kern returned from Taos to retrieve abandoned equipment, only to be killed by angry Ute Indians who had recently been attacked by the Army. That tragic misadventure Frémont blamed on Bill William's advice, though Williams' own notebook stated that he had advised a different course from the one Frémont had taken (Hine 1962:57–62). Disaster did not prevent Frémont from organizing a fifth expedition in 1853, to find a route for a transcontinental railroad. This time he hired a photographer, Solomon Nunes Carvalho (1815– 1897), who left the expedition near Salt Lake City because of illness, and later published Incidents of Travel and Adventure in the Far West with Colonel Frémont's Last Expedition 1858, 2004. The first expedition yielded 22 new taxa, the second 79, the third 52, the fourth 10, the fifth 1 taxon, and there are 3 whose expedition is unknown. A total of 19 new genera were based on the Frémont gatherings. The collections extant…have yielded specimens from 108 families of vascular plants, 448 genera, and 1064 species and/or infraspecific taxa, from among 2129 specimens or literature citations. On 15 June 1848, a very different expedition left Boston, reached New York City, and headed to the north shore of Lake Superior. Professor Agassiz of Harvard, a recent Swiss immigrant (Lurie 1960, 1970, 1999), led nine students, two European naturalists, two Boston admirers, and two New York physicians, in quest of biological and geological specimens and observations (Lurie 1960:148–150). Agassiz was an early defender of an ice age theory (Agassiz 1967, Bolles 1999), and Lake Superior shores might show evidence of American glaciation. He was a leading authority on fish (see above, concerning the Wilkes Expedition) and was also a Cuvier disciple on catastrophism and anti-evolutionism (Jaffe 1958:233– 257, Solomon 1997). He was an effective leader, and a good multiauthored, well-illustrated volume was the fruit of the summer's explorations (Agassiz 1850). Elliot Cabot wrote a 124-page narrative of the expedition, drew eight landscape illustrations, and listed birds seen/collected (three pages). Agassiz wrote a comparison of plants collected with those of his native Switzerland (53 pages), descriptions of fish (131 pages) and reptiles (4 pages) collected, and the geology and glaciology observed (33 pages). Two entomologists described insects collected: John L. Le Conte the Coleoptera (41 pages) and Thaddeus W. Harris the Lepidoptera (8 pages). There were nine full-page illustrations of fish, reptiles, and insects. Some specimens collected possibly were later deposited in the Museum of Comparative Zoology Agassiz founded at Harvard in 1859. (Winsor [1991] does not mention this expedition or its specimens). I have seldom been more deeply gratified than by receiving your most kind present of “Lake Superior.” I had heard of it, and had much wished to read it, but I confess it was the very great honor of having in my possession a work with your autograph, as a presentation copy, that has given me such lively and sincere pleasure. The fishes and all other freshwater animals of the region of the great lakes, must have been created where they live. They are circumscribed within boundaries, over which they cannot pass, and to which there is no natural access from other quarters. (a). Louis Agassiz at age 55. Engraved from a photograph by C. H. Jeens. Agassiz 1888, II: Frontispiece. (b). Spencer Fullerton Baird in 1850. Dall 1915: facing 202. The descriptions of species in this book are very detailed, but not at all critical. They seem like the work of students, as they doubtless were, for whoever was in Agassiz's company was always set to work along the line of his thoughts. Agassiz had many irons in the fire, and the Wilkes fishes was not his only unfinished project. He planned a 10-volume Contributions to the Natural History of the United States, but only published four (1857–1862), which included turtles and some invertebrates. In 1849, before Congress addressed the western railroad issue, the Army Corps of Topographical Engineers, which had sponsored the first three of Frémont's expeditions, sent Captain Howard Stansbury (1806–1863) to survey the Great Salt Lake and seek a better wagon road and possible railroad route between Fort Bridger (now in Wyoming) and Salt Lake City (Fowler 1988:xi). Stansbury was a civil engineer who had worked previously on harbor, canal, and railroad projects (Crompton 1999), but he was also interested in natural history. His party traveled the Oregon Trail to Fort Bridger and then turned southwest on the Mormon Trail. He kept a journal as he traveled, recording every morning barometric and temperature data from 1 June 1849 until 29 September 50, except that his barometric readings ended on 24 July 1849 when his barometer broke. He recorded the weather, topography, geological strata, plants, and animals seen daily, as well as the emigrants headed west (or back e