Beyond His Father’s Shadow: Francis Darwin and The Movement of Plants
This botanical history post was featured on The Daily Gardener podcast:
August 16, 1848
Today is the birthday of the third son of Charles Darwin, Francis Darwin - known to his family as Frank, and known to us, my darling green-thumbed confidantes, as a brilliant mind who illuminated the secret language of our botanical companions.
Francis published the results of his work with his illustrious father in The Movement of Plants.
Oh, what revelations this tome contains!
The book details their meticulous experiments, which showed that young grass seedlings - those innocent, verdant children of the earth - stretch their delicate bodies toward the light with an almost poetic determination.
How marvelous to consider, dear she-shed besties, that plants possess such intelligence!
They dance toward illumination, not unlike ourselves as we reach toward knowledge. The Darwins, father and son, revealed to us that our gardens are not merely passive palettes of color but rather vibrant communities of sentient beings, each with their own desires and inclinations.
Francis, born on this day in 1848, would go on to become a distinguished botanist in his own right. While overshadowed somewhat by his father's immense legacy, his contributions to botany deserve our most enthusiastic applause. He eventually became a lecturer at Cambridge, where he continued to unravel nature's mysteries with the same passionate curiosity inherited from his father.
Can you imagine the delightful conversations over breakfast at the Darwin household?
The sharing of observations, the mutual excitement over a seedling's behavior!
Together, the Darwins conducted experiments that demonstrated phototropism - the enchanting tendency of plants to bend toward light sources.
My fellow flower-lovers, next time you notice your windowsill plants leaning dramatically toward the glass like eager theater-goers craning for a better view, you're witnessing the very phenomenon that captivated the Darwins!
Francis would later edit and publish many of his father's letters and autobiographical writings, becoming not just a scientist but also the keeper of the Darwin flame. His devotion to preserving and extending his father's work speaks to a beautiful relationship between these two naturalists.
So today, as we tend to our January gardens or perhaps merely dream of spring while nursing our houseplants, let us raise a cup of tea to Francis Darwin, who helped us understand that our botanical companions are not merely decorative objects but responsive beings with an intelligence all their own.