What inspired Clarence Tillenius?

For the last two years I have been searching for four species of rare Bugseed (Corispermum spp.) plants. Historically these plants were found in sand dunes and along the beaches of Lakes Winnipeg and Manitoba. Unfortunately there were very few recently collected specimens; most had been collected over 40 years ago. Attempts to determine the rarity status of these plants were hampered due to this lack of information.

During my field work I relocated fewer than half of the historical populations of Bugseeds indicating a substantial loss of habitat. In some cases, dune stabilization appears to have resulted in the loss of habitat for these species, which grow in bare sand. Flooding along the Red River and on Lakes Manitoba and Winnipeg in 2010 and 2011 may have also caused the loss of habitat as several historical populations had been previously found on the beaches, dunes and sandbars along the south shore of these lakes. Balancing out the losses a bit was the discovery of seven new localities in the province including a very large population of Hairy Bugseed (C. villosum) in the sand dunes in Grand Beach Provincial Park.

Unfortunately, I could not locate any Pallas Bugseed (C. pallasii) at the three sites where it was historically found although I did find some American Bugseed (C. americanum) at two of the sites. Pallas Bugseed is still present in other Canadian provinces so it is not extirpated in the country. It is possible that this species spread into Manitoba from other provinces where it is native along railways and then subsequently disappeared as more hardy weeds took over the habitat. As the seeds of these species are quite long lived and tolerant of burial, Pallas Bugseed may still be here in the province, hiding in the soil and waiting for the right conditions to germinate.

Today I got to study a plant specimen that had been collected 100 years before I was born in 1872 by one of the most famous Canadian botanists, Dr. John Macoun. Dr. Macoun accompanied the engineer Sanford Fleming to look for a railroad route through the Canadian west and determine the area’s agricultural potential. Macoun collected thousands of plant and animal specimens on his journeys, which involved travelling either by horse or canoe. He collected over 100,000 plants in his lifetime including over 1,000 that were new to science. In total 48 new species were named after him, including Macoun’s buttercup (Ranunuculus macounii).

Touching Macoun’s handwritten label made me wonder what western Canada looked like back then. Just acres and acres of grasses and fragrant wildflowers, and thousands of birds, antelope and deer I imagine. Or maybe it just felt big and empty and utterly overwhelming.

I also mused about the end result of his journeys. Macoun’s report on the fertility of the prairies convinced Canada to send immigrant farmers to this land. How would he have felt knowing that his report paved the way for the almost complete destruction of the grassland that he had wandered on? That plants and animals that had once numbered in the billions would be reduced to mere handfuls less than a century after his arrival? Perhaps it would have made him happy, knowing that the land was settled with European farmers and ranchers. But I suspect that that happiness would be mingled with at least some regret that no one would ever again experience the wild west as he had.

On October 28 a new natural history exhibit on the Colours in Nature will open in the Museum’s Discovery Room. Organisms and minerals representing all the colours of the rainbow will be on display. Unfortunately no flowering plant specimens will be displayed (only photographs) because, unfortunately, most of the plants in our collection represent only one colour: brown. If the exhibit was on the colour brown in nature, boy would I have a lot stuff to show!

The plants weren’t always brown of course. Before they were collected the leaves were bright green and the flowers hot pink, yellow, orange, and purple. Sadly the drying process almost always results in the loss of at least some colour. Age doesn’t help matters either, the older a plant is, the browner it gets.

In some lichens the colour of the green algae inside the fungus shows through, especially when wet. If the lichen dries out, it may look grey or brown. Other lichens produce brightly coloured pigments like the brilliant yellow pulvinic acid or the reddish anthraquinones. Why lichens produce these chemicals is still a bit of a mystery but one of the best hypotheses is that they act as algal sunscreen, protecting the sensitive algae from harmful UV radiation in sunny habitats. For this reason, the brightest lichens in Manitoba can be found on the tundra in the far north as well as on rocks in the grasslands.

So if I’ve piqued your curiosity, come on down to the Museum to see our collection of brightly coloured lichens (and minerals and brightly coloured birds and butterflies too).

A lot of conservation initiatives around the world involve fencing off areas to “protect” the wild species contained within. Although that strategy can work well in ecosystems that are rarely disturbed, like tropical rainforests, it doesn’t work as well in ecosystems that evolved with natural disturbances. North American prairies used to contain migratory herbivores (e.g. bison, antelope) that consumed large quantities of the vegetation. Bison are unique in that they also engaged in extensive wallowing activities, creating permanent bowl-shaped depressions on the landscape. Old journal entries from some of the first European explorers describe bison herds as taking days to pass and leaving huge swaths of trampled and disturbed soil in their wake. Wild fires following drought and lightning strikes were also common. Native annual plants like ragweed, goosefoot, and bugseeds were likely adapted to colonize these disturbed areas.

Although a moderate amount of disturbance is necessary to create the habitat these rare plants need, too much disturbance is a bad thing. I was unable to relocate some of the historical populations of bugseeds because the areas where they had grown in the past were now heavily impacted by humans and our machinery, being dominated by weeds introduced to Canada from Europe and Asia. Clearly, finding the right balance of disturbance, not too much and not too little, is important for the conservation of certain rare plants.

While examining the backlog of uncatalogued plants in my lab I came across a very old and intriguing collection: 28 vascular plants from Ungava, Labrador collected in 1876 by a Mrs. Lizzie Crawford. Immediately my curiosity was aroused. Who was this mysterious woman? Why was she collecting plants in Canada’s north so long ago? How on earth did her specimens end up at the Manitoba Museum? Clearly figuring all this out was going to require some serious detective work.

By examining the collection I was able to come to some conclusions about who Mrs. Crawford was and what she was like. First, she was clearly an educated woman as she was both literate (her penmanship is lovely) and able to correctly identify the scientific (Latin) names of the plants she collected. Second, she had access to natural history books and enough leisure time to engage in a hobby, suggesting that her family was somewhat well-off. Third, she was a nature lover and probably a bit of an adventurer. She described the habitat of one plant as being “amongst moss in swamps” so she was probably willing to hike in inhospitable places in search of interesting plants. I surmised that she was probably from an upper-middle class family and that her presence in Labrador was most likely as a visitor or temporary resident. Although her husband was of Scottish ancestry, she is not necessarily Scottish as her maiden name was not indicated.

Next I needed to know a little bit more about the history of Labrador. What kinds of people were living in northern Labrador in 1876? I began searching history publications for information about Scottish immigrants. I determined that there were three likely professions for Mrs. Crawford’s husband: missionary, merchant, or employee of the Hudson’s Bay Company (HBC). I decided to explore the HBC archives since a link to this company might explain how the specimens ended up in Manitoba.

So how did the specimens end up at the Manitoba Museum? I needed to track the Crawfords movements after Mr. Crawford retired from the HBC in 1878. Using the internet I was able to find enough documents to piece some of the puzzle together. The Crawfords moved to Indian Head (now part of Saskatchewan) in 1882 to open a general store and Mr. Crawford entered politics, becoming a member of the first council of the Northwest Territories from 1886-1888. During this time the Crawfords may have been involved in the Manitoba Historical and Scientific Society (MHSS), which established in 1879. I suspect that the 28 specimens that I have were given to the MHSS directly by the Crawfords or by their daughter Maggie, eventually ending up here at the Museum. Additional specimens of Mrs. Crawford ended up in herbaria at the University of Montreal and the Canadian Museum of Nature. In fact, Dr. John Macoun (the naturalist with the Geological Survey of Canada), mentioned one of her specimens (Pinguicula vulgaris) in his list of the flora of Labrador in the book “Labrador Coast: A journal of two summer cruises to that region” by A. S. Packard in 1891.

It would be wonderful to find some of Lizzie’s descendants to show them her specimens and also see if they have any old journals, books, letters, or diaries that would tell me more about Lizzie’s collecting activities and why she was interested in natural history. If you are somehow related to Lizzie or Robert Crawford please feel free to get in touch with me as this Museum mystery is still not fully solved.