I love the "lost" species. I love the relicts, the outliers, those with a story to tell. Sometimes they lead me to reflect on our place in the world.
Such is the story of Franklinia altamaha, named by botanists John and William Bartram for their friend, Benjamin Franklin. It’s a beautiful small tree native to the American South; you may be more familiar with another of its relatives, the gorgeous, widely-admired Camellia. The Camellia family is economically important, not so much for its horticultural allure, but because of one species: tea (a world of its own). Compared with tea's star power and the Camellia hybrid beauty queens, the Franklin tree is a shy cousin. Its smaller, simpler blooms are nevertheless charming and beautiful, its fall foliage bright. Big, glossy, dark green leaves, a lovely white blossom, and a Southern origin might make one think "magnolia", but they aren’t related, and the big southern magnolias far outgun Franklinia in flower power. Why, then, is this plant so coveted and studied that botanical organizations have conducted a census to find out just exactly where all of them are?
This species’ story is one of the narrowest escapes from extinction we know. We may never fully understand its natural history.
Franklinia was first seen by trained botanical eyes in 1765. The well-known colonial father-son botanist duo spotted the tree along the Altamaha River in southeastern Georgia. Some years later on a return trip, William collected seed from the plants.
This species has never again been seen in the wild.
Fortunately for Franklinia, and for us, the Bartrams grew the seed they collected at their garden in Philadelphia. All known living specimens of the Franklin tree are descended from the seed William Bartram collected. The Bartrams’ home is now a historical site and botanical garden, and several years ago Bartram’s Garden conducted a census to understand the status of the tree in cultivation: how rare is it, and how hard do we have to work to save it? The Franklinia census received over 2,000 responses. People are growing the Franklin tree in private homes and on public land all over the 48 contiguous states, with specimens reported in Maine, Washington, California, and Florida, and 34 other states in between. More Franklinia specimens are reported from Pennsylvania than any other state. The coveted tree is also grown in several other countries, with the largest numbers reported from the United Kingdom, New Zealand, and Canada.
The question remains: what happened to the Franklin tree? Why has no one rediscovered it flowering deep in a hidden pocket of forest in Georgia?
No one is certain what, exactly, happened to this beautiful American native. It is clear that it must already have been near extinction when the Bartrams propagated it, but little else is understood. It is a clear victim of habitat destruction – most lands around the Altamaha River were cleared of native forest long ago for human habitation or agriculture. There are a variety of agricultural pests, such as certain root fungi, which can kill cultivated Franklinia trees, and so it may be that the advent of widespread agriculture near remaining stands of the tree sealed its fate along with habitat destruction.
What I take from this is that our environment is in constant flux, and human beings are part of that. I think it’s common for us to regard or portray extinction of species as a modern phenomenon, an effect of human population explosion and resulting environmental destruction as we become a pest species. It is a modern phenomenon, but also an ancient one, and not always attributable to human influence. In the case of the Franklin tree, we may never know precisely what led to this beauty’s demise in the wild. This is not an M. Night Shyamalan film which reveals all at the end. Serendipity with a botanist saved us from missing out on the Franklin tree. As environmental destruction around the planet accelerates, I wonder how many species are missing the kind of ark Franklinia found in the Bartrams.
I appreciate the simple beauty of its flower, and I always strive to regard nature for its own sake...I also wonder what benefits to human beings the species we needlessly exterminate might provide. What treatments for cancer, multiple sclerosis, Parkinson’s, HIV, or mental illness have we unknowingly erased? Do we, in steamrolling these species, shoot ourselves in the foot repeatedly, and seal our own fate? It’s possible that we do...and that the next vincristine or taxol was lost last week on some remote Amazon tributary.
It is horrifying how quickly their home ecosystems are disappearing – we would always hope that the coral reef, or forest, or river, or savannah that they call home remains pristine and a safe haven. When it doesn’t, I hope some sharp-eyed, caring botanist (or marine zoologist, or entomologist) finds a way to give that species another chance, and in doing so, gives us one, too.
Thanks for Franklinia, Mr. Bartram. What a gift.