Did you know that the Jerusalem cherry does not grow in or near Jerusalem? That the Spanish cedar is a native of the West Indies? That the French mulberry is neither French nor a mulberry? L. H. Bailey, in this basic introduction to botanical nomenclature, reveals the confusion that results from misleading popular names of plants and points out the fun and the advantages of a sound scientific approach. In a few short chapters, he covers virtually every aspect of the subject of how plants get their names and what those names signify. After an opening chapter that discloses the surprising wealth of information that can be learned from a plant’s botanical name, the author discusses the work of Carl Linnaeus (1707–78), the great Swedish naturalist who is “the father of botany.” There is a brief history of the chaotic state of the science before it was effectively systematized, with outlines of pre-Linnaean classification schemes, followed by a full analysis of the Linnaean definitions of genus and species, the basis of modern binomial nomenclature. The following chapter, on plant identification, contains a discussion of herbariums and their value to the modern botanist, as well as valuable suggestions for amateur horticulturalists on preparing herbariums and packaging specimens to be mailed for identification purposes. Two successive chapters cover the many rules of nomenclature and focus upon some current problems in the field. Blackberries, potatoes, roses, and the amaryllis are analyzed as four illustrations of areas in which much work remains to be done. The final section of the book is certain to prove very useful to a variety of readers. The author defines scores of common Latin stems and word-endings used in botanical nomenclature and presents a few important rules of pronunciation. Most important of all, he includes a full, 20-page list of generic terms most likely to be met in horticultural literature and 42 pages of common Latin words and their English botanical applications and meanings. A rare combination of enthusiastic prose, well and clearly written, and scientific accuracy, this is an essential handbook for gardeners, amateur botanists, and horticulturalists as well as a superb introduction for beginning students to an important part of the botanical sciences. “Carefully presented treatise.” — America. “Written with knowledge and authority, charm and eloquence and poetic imagination on the varied aspects of the author’s specialty.” — New York Times.
Liberty Hyde Bailey, a botanist, through teaching and numerous publications, including the six-volume Standard Cyclopedia of American Horticulture (1914-1917), transformed the science.
In the next year of 1883, he assisted the renowned Asa Gray of Harvard University. William James Beal, professor at Michigan agricultural college, arranged this assistance. Bailey spent two years as herbarium assistant of Gray. He met Annette Smith, the daughter of a cattle breeder, at the Michigan agricultural college and in the same year married her. She bore Sara May Bailey in 1887 and Ethel Zoe Bailey in 1889. He in 1885 moved to Cornell University in Ithaca, New York, and in 1888 assumed the practical and experimental chair.
The academy of arts elected him an associate fellow in 1900. He founded the college of agriculture and in 1904 ably secured public funding. From 1903, he served as dean of New York state college of agriculture to 1913. In 1908, Theodore Roosevelt, president, appointed him chairman of the national commission on country life. Its Report of 1909 called for rebuilding a great agricultural civilization. He edited agriculture from 1907 to 1909 and continued with the Rural Textbook, Gardencraft, and Young Folks Library, series of manuals. He founded and edited the journals Country Life and the Cornell Countryman.
In 1913, he retired to devote more time as a private scholar to social and political issues. In 1917, people elected him as a member of the national academy of the United States.
He dominated the field of literature and wrote a collection of poetry and sixty-five books, which together sold more than a million copies, works; his efforts explained to laypeople, and he edited more than a hundred books of other authors and at least 1.3 thousand articles and more than one hundred papers in pure taxonomy. He also coined the words "cultivar," "cultigen," and "indigen." His most significant and lasting contributions studied cultivated plants.
I'm so glad I found this book. I'm a botany nerd with a penchant for Latin and language, so this was right up my alley. I wasn't aware until the author mentioned editing a book in the 1800's that I realized this was a re-print from the 1930's, and while I'm sure that significant things have changed in taxonomy and horticultural plants, I think there's a good basis of information, shared in a pleasing though academic way. There were a few good gems written between the plant/latin jargon. For one, I learned of "Discocactus" which isn't pronounced the way I hear it in my head. Some of my favorite quotes are: "All words are beautiful when property used and correctly pronounced and relieved of the vulgarisms of slang" "It must be a very good world in which so much novelty constantly appears." Of course, practice is required to speak any vocabulary well, whether of art, engineering...; accurate clear language is the mark of sensitiveness and intelligence." "With the [Maria Merian's 1726 illustration] open on the table I am impressed with the joy the authoress must have experienced in days before there needed to be entomologists and herpetologists and botanists and ichthyologists and all of the others and when nature presented itself as a single scene of life and everything was worth recording."
A somewhat chatty yet authoritative account of the scientific naming of plants. Though written in 1933, most of the information in it still applies (though there have been some additions to plant naming rules since then, and conventions about capitalization have changed). One feature of this book I have not seen elsewhere is that gives special attention to cultivated plants and the taxonomic issues that arise with them. Appendices give a pronunciation guide to common genera and meanings and pronunciation of common specific epithets.
What a delightful little book! Found it in the library stacks and besides being interested in the topic, I found his self-deprecating, familiar writing style very endearing. At 118 pages, this is a good read for anyone interested in plant names.
Side note: (I haven't looked, but I'd expect many of the names or naming conventions may have evolved since the publication of the book in the early 20th century.)