In most of the sciences, major research is restricted to those who have earned higher level academic degrees. However in botany, especially in the 19th and the early 20th century, there were still opportunities for keen and devoted amateurs to make major contributions to advance the science.
Catherine “Kate” Furbish (1834-1931) was one such botanist. She did not have a college degree, but was a careful observer of plants and their component parts. She also recognized the need for a more comprehensive flora of her home state of Maine.
An avid reader of works by professional botanists, she learned many of their techniques, including the practice of creating herbarium specimens. During her long life, she developed a collection of over 8,000 specimens that are now preserved at institutions in New England.
Furbish brought other important talents to the study of native plants – she was a skilled illustration and a stickler for accuracy, creating over 1,300 detailed and meticulous watercolor illustrations of the Maine flora. These were donated to Bowdoin College in her hometown of Brunswick, Maine and have been beautifully reproduced at full scale in the 2016 two-volume set “Plants and Flowers of Maine.” This work includes an extensive biographical introduction by Melissa Dow Cullina, at the time Director of Education for the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens.
Furbish’s life is also profiled in a 1995 book by Ada Graham and Frank Graham, Jr., “Kate Furbish and the Flora of Maine.” This is a fascinating read, as in addition to botanical work, Furbish was an avid traveler and had many other interests – challenging for a single woman during this period, but telling of her strong sense of purpose.
An example of this drive can be found in a speech (quoted in the Grahams’ book) that she gave in 1883. In a wet ravine in what is now Acadia National Park, she described how “the earth gave way burying me to my waist.” In this she felt fortunate, as the alternative was falling into the ravine. She continued her narrative with, “I rested, planned and finally extricated myself, secured the tools, climbed the bank, went on my way, found the pond, brought away a new Sedge, and after eleven hours’ absence reached home in safety.”
Reviewed by: Brian Thompson on December 2, 2024
Excerpted from the Winter 2025 issue of the Arboretum Bulletin