A Black History of Natural History

Graman Kwasi (late 17th–18th c.) was a healer and botanist enslaved in Suriname, famed for describing Quassia amara, later named for him and still used medicinally. Trained in Maroon traditions, his skills gained him favor with Europeans, leading to freedom but also complicity in slavery—he aided in recapturing escapees and lived with enslaved labor himself. Kwasi’s story highlights both his lasting botanical impact and the colonial exploitation entwined with his legacy.

Edward Bartar was an Anglo-African man employed by the Royal African Company (RAC) in the 17th century. Some sources report he was a surgeon for the company, but others assert he was one of the most influential slave traders of the time. While being educated in England, he made friends with prominent natural history collectors of the day, including James Petiver. In his spare time, he collected plants, insects and shells from the Gold Coast region of west Africa. Some of the specimens he collected were considered new to European botany, others with apparent medicinal applications. It is suspected that he used slave labor to aid in these collections that he sent to England, a practice enthusiastically championed by Petiver. This highlights the pervasive link between the Atlantic Slave Trade and natural history collecting.

Natural history museums and the collections within them are tied to the transatlantic slave trade which means that there were many African slaves that contributed to the collection of specimens or offered natural knowledge that went undocumented and unacknowledged. One of these contributions and natural knowledge comes from an enslaved woman by the name of Majoe. Not much is known about Majoe, but Henry Barham, a natural historian, wrote about a plant (Picramnia antidesma) discovered by Majoe for the use of treating several diseases. This plant became to be known as Majoe bitters or Macary bitters after her, which is one of the few instances in which enslaved peoples were acknowledged for their natural knowledge and specimen collections. Today, specimens of Majoe bitters are housed in natural history museum collections (an example from the Natural History Museum in London is shown below), and some places, like Jamaica, still commonly use Majoe bitters for home remedies.

Dr. Margaret Collins (1922-1996) was a termite expert and field biologist. Graduating high school at fourteen years old, she continued her education at West Virginia State, completing her bachelor’s degree in biology with minors in physics and German in 1943. Dr. Collins was the first Black woman to earn a PhD in entomology when she graduated from the University of Chicago in 1949. Until her death in 1996, Dr. Collins held a senior research position at the Smithsonian Institution’s National Museum of Natural History, where the collection of termite diversity of the Caribbean Islands and Guyana is dedicated to her. The “Termite Lady” lives on as a pioneer for other Black scientists in zoology.

John Widgeon (1850–1916), born enslaved in Northampton County, Virginia, rose to become a key figure at the Maryland Academy of Science (now the Maryland Science Center). Though called a “collector,” his work aligned with today’s role of curator or collections manager. Self-taught with only two years of formal schooling, he moved to Baltimore in 1870 and, after brief jobs, began at the Academy in 1874 as janitor, soon becoming its sole collector. Widgeon amassed diverse specimens—regional flora and fauna, fossils, a finback whale, a new fish type specimen, and corals from the West Indies, where he learned to dive. After a funding gap forced his departure in 1876, he returned in 1892 to rebuild the collection, overseeing its rapid growth. Despite receiving an honorary Master of Science degree, his achievements were framed through racist narratives of white validation. Widgeon’s legacy endures in his own words: he gave his “best days” to science so his work would be remembered.

Imagine proving you were born free—while knowing freedom could vanish at any moment. Such was the life of Solomon G. Brown (1829–1906), a free Black man in Washington, D.C., who witnessed the Civil War and the weaponization of Black liberation. Hired by the Smithsonian in 1852, Brown served 54 years under its first three secretaries, advancing from laborer to clerk. A self-taught naturalist, illustrator, lecturer, and poet, he became known as “Professor Brown,” contributing to the National Museum, International Exchange Service, Bureau of Ethnology, and National Zoo. Despite friendly ties with Spencer Baird, he still navigated racism, his excellence questioned by some who saw only his race. Today, Black and Indigenous scholars face similar barriers—accusations of unearned advantage, exclusion, and stereotype threat—yet they persist. Recognizing history means creating space for this generation of natural historians to thrive.

Carl W. Cotton (1918–1971) grew up in Washington Park on Chicago’s South Side, where he developed a passion for taxidermy, starting with birds, squirrels, and pets. After being rejected by the Field Museum in 1940 due to lack of credentials, he served in the US Navy during WWII and was later accepted in 1947 as a volunteer, becoming the museum’s first African American taxidermist. Cotton trained under Leon Pray and Leon Walters, quickly earning praise for his skill and enthusiasm. While specializing in birds, he mastered mammals, reptiles, insects, and especially fish—one of the most difficult groups to preserve. In 1966, he became the first staff member of the Field’s exhibitions department, bridging the “Golden Age” of taxidermy with modern display practices. His renowned diorama, Marsh Birds of the Upper Nile, remains on display today. Cotton worked at the Field Museum until his death in 1971, leaving behind a legacy that is still underrecognized in natural history.

John Edmonstone, born enslaved in British Guyana in the late 18th century, learned taxidermy while assisting naturalist Charles Waterton on expeditions. In 1817 he traveled to Scotland with his enslaver, where slavery was illegal, and secured his freedom. By 1823, Edmonstone had established himself in Edinburgh as a skilled “birdstuffer,” selling specimens to museums and teaching university students. Among them was Charles Darwin, who later credited Edmonstone as “a very pleasant and intelligent man.” Their conversations and lessons may have inspired Darwin’s own South American journeys, where taxidermy proved crucial to his evolutionary studies. Edmonstone’s thriving business flourished between 1826–1843 as taxidermy gained popularity, yet he is too often remembered only for his link to Darwin. He deserves recognition as a successful businessman, naturalist, and contributor to biodiversity collections still vital to science today.

Robert Alexander Gilbert (1870–1942), a largely overlooked Black naturalist and photographer, left behind more than 2,000 suspected images now held in the Massachusetts Audubon archives. Born in Virginia, Gilbert moved to Boston at 16, later working at Harvard Medical School before assisting ornithologist William Brewster. Initially tasked with preparing specimens, he soon became a trusted collaborator—guiding expeditions, photographing and identifying birds, and contributing uncredited knowledge to Brewster’s publications. Gilbert later joined the Harvard Museum of Comparative Zoology, where he helped design exhibits, prepared skeletal material, and likely served as a curatorial assistant. An associate of the American Ornithologists’ Union, he was admired for his dedication and skill. Though much of his story remains hidden, Gilbert is now honored with a room in his name at the Harvard MCZ, a lasting recognition of his contributions to natural history.

Barry B. Hampton began at the Smithsonian in 1912 as a mail clerk, later joining the Division of Reptiles and Amphibians in 1926 as a laborer assisting curator Doris M. Cochran. With only the two of them in the division, Hampton managed duties now associated with curatorial assistants or collections managers: maintaining collections, cataloging, preparing loans, assisting researchers, and assembling exhibits. Despite his critical role, Hampton remained classified as a “laborer” for decades, reflecting both systemic bias and institutional inequities of the 1940s. Cochran advocated for his promotion to “museum aide,” but her appeals framed his work in comparison to other African Americans, rather than white peers. Only after filing an appeal in 1949—23 years into his service—did Hampton achieve the title of “scientific aide.” He retired in 1954 after 42 years at the Smithsonian. His story underscores how societal inequities shape science, recognition, and who is seen as a scientist.

John Tyley, an Antiguan artist of mixed-race heritage, was a gifted botanical illustrator in the late 1700s. Governor William Bentinck praised him as uniquely talented in the West Indies. Tyley worked under Scottish naturalist Alexander Anderson at the St. Vincent Botanical Garden, living on the estate while producing numerous illustrations. Anderson sought to secure him a position in England before his death in 1811, but Tyley’s later life remains unknown. Today, over 50 signed works survive in the Hunt Institute and The Linnean Society, with many more likely unattributed. His illustrations—such as his depiction of a man beneath a breadfruit tree—demonstrate his extraordinary skill and contribution to natural history art.

Sophie Lutterlough began working at the Smithsonian as an elevator operator. In the course of her duties, she developed a rapport with Dr. J. F. Gates Clark, a curator in the entomology department. He hired her as an insect preparator in 1957. By 1959, she was promoted to research assistant to curator Ralph Crabill. She mainly worked on species like millipedes and centipedes, but also did extensive restoration work for the tick collection. Her academic accomplishments during her 40 years at the museum were recognized with an Exemplary Service award upon her retirement in 1983. A few years prior, in 1979, a tick species was named after her, Pygmephorus lutterloughae.