Call us not weeds, we are flowers of the sea
For lovely and bright and gay tinted are we
And quite independent of sunshine and showers
Oh call us not weeds, we are ocean’s gay flowers
In Victorian times an unusual pastime became quite the fashion among women who had time on their hands and who were prevented by the prevailing mores of society from taking part in many other pursuits. The 19th Century saw a growing interest in the natural sciences and the blossoming of many related societies, yet membership was considered inappropriate for women who were expected to develop their skills in music or the decorative arts. But the rise of industrialisation, increasing urban pollution and overcrowding also encouraged an appreciation of the healthy fresh air of the countryside or seaside, with walking and bathing seen as beneficial activities for both sexes.
The above verse, attributed to a Mrs Elizabeth Aveline, gives a clue to an activity which held both scientific and decorative interest and gave opportunities for women to escape the domestic sphere for the great outdoors: seaweed collecting.
While this had many similarities with the more sedate hobby of flower-collecting, it also held opportunities for adventure – clambering over rocks, beating the incoming tides, uncovering lurking crabs and other hazards – and, for those who sought it, scientific discovery. Who were these women?
Amelia Griffiths (1768-1858) was a parson’s wife who settled, as a young widow with several children, in the south Devon town of Torquay where she could indulge her fascination with seaweeds. With so many species unknown or undescribed, she often assisted male colleagues with identification, becoming a friend and correspondent of leading British botanist, William Henry Harvey. In her lifetime she collected and preserved nearly 250 different seaweed species and was one of the first women to be recognised for her contribution to science. Her seaweed albums are held in several museums, including at London’s Kew Gardens, and a number of species bear the Griffiths name.
One of Amelia’s former servants, the much younger Mary Wyatt (1789-1871) often accompanied her mistress on collecting trips and eventually set up a small shop in Torquay selling marine specimens, including seashells, fossilised corals and pressed algae. Mary produced and sold books on seaweed identification and thus helped to spread the “seaweed craze”.
Anna Atkins (1799-1871) created exquisite cyanotype photogenic drawings of seaweeds and over a ten-year period published the 3-volume Photographs of British Algae (1843-53), which pioneered photography as a means of botanical illustration. Her scientific leanings were probably inherited from her father, John George Children, after whom the Australian Children’s python was named.
Margaret Gatty (1809-1873), a children’s author, took up seaweed collecting during a period of convalescence on the Sussex coast and illustrated numerous specimens with her own drawings and paintings. Her comprehensive 2-volume British Sea Weeds took 14 years to complete, described 200 species and contained 86 coloured plates. She was still collecting up until her death. The Australian alga, Gattya pinnella, is one of several species named for her.
So, what has all this to do with Special Collections? Our next post will look more closely at a late Victorian album which came to us as part of the Sir C.M. Yonge collection and from which the illustrations in this post are taken. Its young compiler might well have been inspired by at least two of the above collectors.
Story by Miniata
Note: Captions to illustrations provide the scientific names current in the 1880s; they may not be those in use today.
References
Strange, Philip. The Queen of Seaweeds: the story of Amelia Griffiths https://philipstrange.wordpress.com/2014/08/19/the-queen-of-seaweeds-the-story-of-amelia-griffiths-an-early-19th-century-pioneer-of-marine-botany/
Cara Giaimo. The forgotten Victorian craze for seaweed collecting, Atlas Obscura 2014 https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/the-forgotten-victorian-craze-for-collecting-seaweed
Cyanotypes of British Algae by Anna Atkins (1843). Public Domain Review https://publicdomainreview.org/collections/cyanotypes-of-british-algae-by-anna-atkins-1843/
Popova, Maria. Stunning drawings of seaweed from a book by self-taught Victorian marine biologist, Margaret Gatty https://www.brainpickings.org/2017/04/27/margaret-gatty-seaweed/
For lovely and bright and gay tinted are we
And quite independent of sunshine and showers
Oh call us not weeds, we are ocean’s gay flowers
 |
| Maugeria sanguinea, a specimen from an album of pressed seaweeds, compiled by Annie Slade (This album is part of the Sir C.M. Yonge Collection) |
In Victorian times an unusual pastime became quite the fashion among women who had time on their hands and who were prevented by the prevailing mores of society from taking part in many other pursuits. The 19th Century saw a growing interest in the natural sciences and the blossoming of many related societies, yet membership was considered inappropriate for women who were expected to develop their skills in music or the decorative arts. But the rise of industrialisation, increasing urban pollution and overcrowding also encouraged an appreciation of the healthy fresh air of the countryside or seaside, with walking and bathing seen as beneficial activities for both sexes.
The above verse, attributed to a Mrs Elizabeth Aveline, gives a clue to an activity which held both scientific and decorative interest and gave opportunities for women to escape the domestic sphere for the great outdoors: seaweed collecting.
While this had many similarities with the more sedate hobby of flower-collecting, it also held opportunities for adventure – clambering over rocks, beating the incoming tides, uncovering lurking crabs and other hazards – and, for those who sought it, scientific discovery. Who were these women?
 |
| Haliseris polypodioides, a specimen from an album of pressed seaweeds, compiled by Annie Slade. (This album is part of the Sir C.M. Yonge Collection) |
Amelia Griffiths (1768-1858) was a parson’s wife who settled, as a young widow with several children, in the south Devon town of Torquay where she could indulge her fascination with seaweeds. With so many species unknown or undescribed, she often assisted male colleagues with identification, becoming a friend and correspondent of leading British botanist, William Henry Harvey. In her lifetime she collected and preserved nearly 250 different seaweed species and was one of the first women to be recognised for her contribution to science. Her seaweed albums are held in several museums, including at London’s Kew Gardens, and a number of species bear the Griffiths name.
One of Amelia’s former servants, the much younger Mary Wyatt (1789-1871) often accompanied her mistress on collecting trips and eventually set up a small shop in Torquay selling marine specimens, including seashells, fossilised corals and pressed algae. Mary produced and sold books on seaweed identification and thus helped to spread the “seaweed craze”.
Anna Atkins (1799-1871) created exquisite cyanotype photogenic drawings of seaweeds and over a ten-year period published the 3-volume Photographs of British Algae (1843-53), which pioneered photography as a means of botanical illustration. Her scientific leanings were probably inherited from her father, John George Children, after whom the Australian Children’s python was named.
Margaret Gatty (1809-1873), a children’s author, took up seaweed collecting during a period of convalescence on the Sussex coast and illustrated numerous specimens with her own drawings and paintings. Her comprehensive 2-volume British Sea Weeds took 14 years to complete, described 200 species and contained 86 coloured plates. She was still collecting up until her death. The Australian alga, Gattya pinnella, is one of several species named for her.
 |
| Polysiphonia brodiei, a specimen from an album of pressed seaweeds, compiled by Annie Slade. (This album is part of the Sir C.M. Yonge Collection) |
So, what has all this to do with Special Collections? Our next post will look more closely at a late Victorian album which came to us as part of the Sir C.M. Yonge collection and from which the illustrations in this post are taken. Its young compiler might well have been inspired by at least two of the above collectors.
Story by Miniata
Note: Captions to illustrations provide the scientific names current in the 1880s; they may not be those in use today.
References
Strange, Philip. The Queen of Seaweeds: the story of Amelia Griffiths https://philipstrange.wordpress.com/2014/08/19/the-queen-of-seaweeds-the-story-of-amelia-griffiths-an-early-19th-century-pioneer-of-marine-botany/
Cara Giaimo. The forgotten Victorian craze for seaweed collecting, Atlas Obscura 2014 https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/the-forgotten-victorian-craze-for-collecting-seaweed
Cyanotypes of British Algae by Anna Atkins (1843). Public Domain Review https://publicdomainreview.org/collections/cyanotypes-of-british-algae-by-anna-atkins-1843/
Popova, Maria. Stunning drawings of seaweed from a book by self-taught Victorian marine biologist, Margaret Gatty https://www.brainpickings.org/2017/04/27/margaret-gatty-seaweed/
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