Constantine Rafinesque

There is one word that is consistently associated with Constantine Samuel Rafinesque-Schmaltz: “genius,” often modified by an adjective that is slightly disparaging, such as “eccentric.” Intellectually, he was arrogant—with justification. Socially, he was unfit—by choice. He would be remarkably successful in a diverse array of fields—only to be honored in none. He would be widely discredited in life, yet more and more honored today as scholars begin to realize just how farsighted were his writings.

Born in Turkey of a German mother and a French father on 22 October 1783, he grew up in Marseilles, France, in a house of books. By age twelve he had read a thousand of them, built an herbarium, and taught himself Latin. Yet he was totally undisciplined. Although he did have an occasional tutor, he learned only what he wished in his own self-taught school. And what he wanted to learn was botany.^[1]Rafinesque was born in Galata, a suburb of Constantinople, to Francois and Madeleine Schmaltz Rafinesque. His father was a French merchant then residing in the city but his mother was the daughter of … Continue reading

In 1802, at age nineteen, Rafinesque came to America, apprenticing at the mercantile house of the Clifford Brothers in Philadelphia. Three years later he left America for Sicily, where he developed a successful business. There he was to remain for a decade.^[2]While in Sicily, Rafinesque was secretary to the U.S. consul. He was involved in the international trade of commodities, the most important being medicinal plants. All during this time he was … Continue reading Rafinesque’s return to the United States in 1815 was a period both of great joy and profound sadness. Unfortunately, after a six-month ocean voyage the ship carrying all of his books, collections and manuscripts foundered off the coast near New London, Connecticut.^[3]Rafinesque stated that he had on board some fifty boxes of books and specimens. The collection supposedly contained about sixty thousand shells alone. Except for some money, all was lost. His children’s mother suddenly left him for a Sicilian actor, his son, Charles Linnaeus had died before he left Sicily, and it would be years before he corresponded with his daughter Emilia. Yet, he was free to wander and to write, and he did both.

New York

Before he left the United States in late December 1804, Rafinesque had approached Thomas Jefferson asking to be appointed naturalist to one of the President’s proposed western expeditions. After some delay, Jefferson sort of agreed to send him on the Red River expedition to be led by William Dunbar and George Hunter. Alas for young Rafinesque, he received word that he would be appointed only after he was in Sicily. Considering that the natural history collections of the Hunter and Dunbar Expedition and the Freeman-Custis Expedition were essentially nil, science lost out on both accounts^[4]Dr. Boewe told me that of 15 Dec 1804 Jefferson wrote to Rafinesque ” ‘Certainly I should be happy to add your botanical talents to the party [of Hunter and Dunbar], but that it is not in … Continue reading

Now, upon his return, without books, collections or family, he set out to recover at least the first two with the support of friends in New York. While in Sicily, Rafinesque had been publishing widely, both books and, especially, articles in scientific journals, most notably the New York-based journal Medical Repository. His journal Specchio delle scienze, (two volumes) published in 1814, and his 1815 book Analyse de la nature may be mentioned as representative contributions; both were published in Palermo. The latter work was particularly significant for here Rafinesque outlined a system of classification for all living organisms that was remarkably novel. For botany it could have been highly significant had he fully described all of the groups he recognized. Instead, he treated only a few in detail as examples, leaving the vast majority of the new names without descriptions. As a result, later authors published many of his new families of plants without giving him credit. And about that he complained bitterly.

Tradition suggests that Dr. Samuel Latham Mitchill^[5]Samuel Latham Mitchill (1764-1831) had a brilliant career in medicine, natural history and politics. He served in both houses of Congress and held various posts in New York. Mitchill, like … Continue reading took Rafinesque into his home. As a noted student of the natural sciences, he was generous to his fellow naturalists. Alexander Wilson, who would describe the birds gathered on the Lewis and Clark Expedition, was an early recipient of his generosity. While Rafinesque lived in Sicily, he published several papers in Mitchill’s journal Medical Repository, so in a sense the two men were at least scientifically acquainted. In addition to providing lodging for the near-destitute Rafinesque, Mitchill sought employment for him. Rafinesque became a member of the newly established Lyceum of Natural History in New York and presented its first scientific lecture. At first he possibly was in the field with Mitchill and certainly with the New York botanist John Torrey, but by 1818 he was traveling alone, often into the Allegheny Mountains, to search for all sorts of curious objects. By Rafinesque’s count, he collected more than 250 new species of plants and animals on these early trips.

Rafinesque published numerous critical reviews of floras and manuals published by others, mainly in the American Monthly Magazine. In 1817, he published Florula ludoviciana, only to have his effort severely criticized by others, or, worse yet for Rafinesque, totally ignored. Still, he was traveling widely and he was gradually rebuilding his collection of natural history objects.

Transylvania

The year 1819 found Rafinesque in Kentucky, the newly appointed professor of botany at Transylvania University—the first such institution west of the Appalachian Mountains. Lexington, Kentucky, was a small, out-of-the-way place, and this was a perfect setting for him. As was his wont, Rafinesque immediately set the presses to roll. He published Annals of nature wherein he proceeded to describe most of the new genera and species of plants and animals he was finding, with the promise this would be a yearly exercise. In 1821, the “first volume” of Western Minerva appeared. Then, in 1825, came Neogenyton, where he described 66 new genera of plants for North America. Not unlike a genius, Rafinesque also taught French and Italian and later served as the University’s librarian.

The outrage from his fellow American and European botanists was immediate and intense. Almost without exception he was condemned for the minor and insignificant differences that he felt qualified certain groups of plants to be separated as new genera. For many, the proliferation of generic names in Neogenyton and elsewhere was more of an annoyance than anything else and, as a result, the great majority simply ignored the names, and almost anything else Rafinesque published.

Life in Lexington was not going smoothly either. It seems that Professor Rafinesque tended to miss more classes than his students, and when he taught, his lectures were often far beyond what his students could comprehend. Then there was the matter of the apparent affair with the wife of the university president. Not surprising, in 1826, the president fired Rafinesque and forced him to leave the city. As a result, Rafinesque returned to Philadelphia, where he spent the rest of his life.

But, not before placing a curse upon the university. Today, Rafinesque’s curse still plagues the institution, at least in theory, as the entire week before Halloween is devoted to “Rafy,” and there may or may not still be a secret society that bears his name.^[6]Transylvania University was founded in 1780 and remains today a fine private, liberal arts institution. Known to its faculty and students alike as “Trancy,” the institution abounds with … Continue reading

Philadelphia

Rafinesque returned to Philadelphia in the spring of 1826 laden with some 40 trunks of specimens. In a sense it was a sad return. His father had died there in 1793 of the yellow fever he had contracted in Philadelphia. Now the son was without immediate employment, but as always Rafinesque was inventive. He gave public lectures, organized a bank for working people, and capitalized on his latest interest, medicinal plants. The first volume of his two-volume Medical flora; or manual of the medical botany of the United States of North America was published in 1828 (the second in 1830) and sold well. He found a patron in Charles Wetherill and began to published dozens of books on natural history, philosophy and linguistics.

His Atlantic journal was published in eight parts from the spring of 1832 until the winter of 1833. As a supplement to the later parts he issued Herbarium rafinesquianum, where he described numerous new species of plants based on the specimens then in his possession. It was at this time that Rafinesque took a scientific interest in the plants and animals mentioned by Lewis and Clark. In addition to the six species of conifers mentioned here, he also established the scientific name for the prairie dog, the white-footed mouse and the mule deer. In addition, he described the blue elderberry as Sambucus cerulea [sam-BUK-us sear-OOL-ee-ah], taking his features from the description Lewis wrote on 7 February 1806.

For North American botany, Rafinesque began to publish a series of books. Unlike his earlier works, however, the publications that began to appear starting in 1836 were often a jumble of confusion. None was truly organized into anything resembling a coherent manual or flora. It was often as if the arrangement and even the writing were no more than a flow of thoughts derived from something randomly gathered from his herbarium. It is true that his works were to be mere supplements to floras published by others, but whose flora was rarely identified. The New flora and botany of North America (in four parts, each with a different subtitle, 1836–1838) was rapidly followed by Flora telluriana (in four parts, 1837–1838), Alsographia americana (1838), and Sylva telluriana (1838). Thousands of new species and hundreds of new genera were proposed.^[8]The genus name Rafinesquia was proposed three times. Rafinesque himself published the first two attempts (in 1836 and in 1838). In 1841, Thomas Nuttall proposed the name a third time, and by … Continue reading

Death

Death came to Rafinesque in 1840, the result of cancer. Aside from the sale of his collections—which were sold as junk—his passing went largely unnoticed. Elias Durand, then a botanist at the Academy of Natural Sciences in Philadelphia, went through the stable where Rafinesque’s collections were in storage for some three years after his death and took relatively little for posterity. The rest was destroyed, already badly damaged by mold, mice and weather through neglect. For some reason, what Rafinesque worked most of his professional life to build was allowed to deteriorate following his death.^[9]The destruction of Rafinesque’s natural history collection, even in its deteriorated condition, was one of the great tragedies in systematic biology. Rafinesque named more than 6,500 new … Continue reading His library was sold and scattered. Yet, even in death, myth and Rafinesque were to be synonymous.

Tradition has it that Rafinesque had long lived in what could only be described as wretched poverty and died in a garret. His body was supposedly removed through a window by rope and buried to keep the landlord from selling his remains to a medical school. Tradition also has it that he was buried as a pauper. And most significantly, tradition proclaims that his remains were eventually disinterred and taken back to Transylvania University by a group of former students.

And the facts? According to Boewe, Rafinesque lived in a rented house in a modest section of Philadelphia. He rented the entire house, devoting most of its space to his collection. He published numerous books and journals in his later years, all at his own expense, and while the combination of housing and publishing took much of his available cash, he was hardly living in abject poverty as so often stated. No doubt some of this was made possible as a result of the patronage provided by Charles Wetherill, a chemist and Philadelphia businessman. Even at the end, one or even two doctors attended him as well as “a woman of the house” who was probably in constant attendance—hardly an indication of a poor person.

Transylvania Tomb

Rafinesque died of stomach and liver cancer according to a detailed autopsy performed on 19 September 1840, the day after he died. The body was not spirited away, for the autopsy probably took place in the house where Rafinesque died. Rafinesque was buried in the Philadelphia Cemetery (later called Ronaldson’s Cemetery). At the time the cemetery was well cared for and park-like in both appearance and use. The funeral expenses were sixteen dollars, a modest amount by contemporary standards. The coffin was of oak; there is no evidence a member of the clergy attended.

In 1919, Rafinesque’s gravesite was located and a marker erected by Anthony M. Hance, Samuel N. Rhoads and Henry C. Mercer, all of Pennsylvania. News of this event reached Lexington, and the librarian at what was then Transylvania College, Elizabeth Norton, wrote to Mercer expressing thanks. By 1919, Ronaldson’s Cemetery was in a profound state of neglect; it was also full. Fearing that the cemetery would be destroyed, Norton promoted the idea of returning the remains of Rafinesque to Lexington. In 1987, Boewe described the efforts made by Norton and her Philadelphia brother, James A. Spencer, to obtain the remains. In February of 1924, Transylvania’s Dean Thomas Macartney went to Philadelphia and obtained some remains. These were subsequently laid to rest in a place of honor in Old Morrison and the tomb marked by an epitaph taken from Rafinesque’s 1836 autobiography, A Life of Travels.

What is perhaps not always appreciated by modern society is that a single gravesite was frequently reused, often many times over. The first person buried in a given spot would be interred deep enough to allow subsequent coffins to be positioned above the earlier coffin or coffins. In the case of Rafinesque, he was buried above two other persons and eventually three more were buried above him.

According to Boewe, this fact was unknown to those who went searching for Rafinesque’s remains in the winter of 1924. All the evidence now suggests that one Miss Mary Passimore resides in Rafinesque’s tomb at Transylvania University.

Ronaldson’s Cemetery is now gone. The site is a playground. The bodies—or at least some of the bodies—were removed to Forest Hills Cemetery in the Somerton section of Philadelphia. It is not known if Rafinesque went there or remained behind. What now seems certain is that he did not end up in Kentucky. Like his father, he too lies in an unmarked Philadelphia grave.

A year after Rafinesque died, Asa Gray, the botanist at Harvard University, penned the line that has come to be associated with the memory of Constantine Samuel Rafinesque: “A gradual deterioration will be observed in Rafinesque’s botanical writings from 1819 to 1830, when the passion for establishing new genera and species appears to have become a complete monomania.” History has not been kind to the body or the memory of Rafinesque. Like Meriwether Lewis, much of Rafinesque’s life remains steeped in myth.