David Douglas at Columbia: The Price of Botanical Passion
This botanical history post was featured on The Daily Gardener podcast:
June 15, 1830
It was on this day in 1830 that the intrepid botanical adventurer David Douglas finally arrived at the Columbia River, his eager eyes already scanning the horizon for undiscovered flora waiting to be cataloged, collected, and claimed for British gardens.
The journey had begun nearly eight months prior when our determined plant hunter departed from England on October 31st, 1829, after a tender farewell to his mother. Before boarding his vessel—bound for lands both wild and promising—Douglas insisted upon acquiring a Bible with sufficiently large print, as his vision, that most essential tool of the botanist, was already beginning to betray him.
One can only imagine the anticipation that filled his breast as he contemplated this expedition! Douglas burned with desire to penetrate the interior of California, certain that botanical treasures beyond imagination lay waiting for the first European eyes to behold them.
Yet the cost of such passionate pursuit was etched upon his very countenance. A fellow traveler at Fort Vancouver mistook our Douglas for a man of 48 winters—when in truth, he had experienced but 30!
The wilderness extracts payment in more than mere footsteps, dear readers; it demands portions of one's youth as tribute.
Did such physical deterioration dampen his spirits? Not in the slightest! Upon reaching Columbia, Douglas wasted not a moment on rest but immediately set his mind to the botanical bounty surrounding him.
Within mere weeks—while lesser men might still be arranging their collecting papers—our indefatigable plant hunter had already dispatched three substantial chests brimming with seeds and specimens bound for English soil. In correspondence to Professor Hooker, he quipped with characteristic dry wit:
"You will begin to think that I manufacture pines at my pleasure."
Among these sylvan treasures was the magnificent Pinus Nobilis, a conifer of such distinguished bearing that it commanded the princely sum of 15 to 20 guineas per specimen in London's rarified botanical markets.
Consider, garden enthusiasts, what passion must drive a man to sacrifice his health, comfort, and safety in pursuit of botanical discovery!
While we complain of a thorn's prick or the inconvenience of an April shower, Douglas braved untamed wilderness, hostile conditions, and failing eyesight—all to enrich our gardens with diversity and splendor.
His dedication reminds us that every unfamiliar seed we plant carries with it not just genetic material, but the invisible thread of human determination that brought it to our hands. Each exotic bloom in your garden stands as a living monument to explorers like Douglas, who ventured where civilization's comforts ended to expand our horticultural horizons.
Next time you admire a pine brought to Britain by Douglas's expeditions, spare a thought for the man who appeared aged beyond his years, but whose botanical legacy remains eternally vibrant in gardens throughout our nation.
