Boxes in Nature

Pergamon www.elsevier.com/locate/shpsa

Stud. Hist. Phil. Sci., Vol. 31, No. 3, pp. 381–403, 2000  2000 Elsevier Science Ltd. All rights reserved. Printed in Great Britain 0039-3681/00 $ - see front matter

Boxes in Nature Anke te Heesen* Historians have usually connected the presentation of nature as a part of natural history with the natural cabinet or the natural history museum. A closer look at travel and field work, however, shows that display of nature as a spatial concept and set of material conditions begins already in the first moment of collecting objects, specimens and economic information about a region. In 1720 Tsar Peter I of Russia sent the German physician Daniel Gottlieb Messerschmidt to Siberia to explore this hitherto terra incognita. During his travels Messerschmidt established two main instruments for collecting data and things, which I shall describe as organizing, material principles for his field work: written lists and notes, and boxes and cases. An analysis of these material objects and their specific uses reveals the intellectual and practical traditions in which learned activities and strategies took place at the beginning of the eighteenth century.  2000 Elsevier Science Ltd. All rights reserved.

Before Daniel Gottlieb Messerschmidt (1684–1735) started his seven-year research expedition through Siberia by order of Czar Peter I, he was explicitly instructed at the court in St. Petersburg to keep a journal and build a collection of specimens during his travels. He was to carry out his descriptive and collection duties in the following areas: ‘1. description of the land; 2. natural history and its components; 3. medicine, Materia Medica, epidemic diseases; 4. description of the Siberian nation and its philology; 5. monuments and other antiquities; and 6. other strange or interesting items’ (Pallas, 1782, p. 99). The goal of the trip was to describe the natural and medical resources of the area explored, to survey it for mapping, and to render it comprehensible through collections from the three spheres of nature, and through careful drawings of the landscape and the inhabitants. After Messerschmidt’s return in 1727, a bitter dispute broke out over the drawings and samples he brought back to St. Petersburg. The Academy of Sciences (established 1725) and the medical faculty accused him of withholding important results from his studies. Messerschmidt argued that he had collected items for his personal use, paid for out of his own funds, and that these items could not be considered property of the Academy of Sciences or of the medical faculty. The controversy continued * Max-Planck-Institute for the History of Science, Wilhelmstr. 44, 10117 Berlin, Germany Received 14 October 1999; in revised form 19 January 2000.

PII: S0039-3681(00)00017-0 381

382

Studies in History and Philosophy of Science

for several months and doubtless contributed to the failure of either the Academy or Messerschmidt to publish findings from the extensive documentation of the research trip.1 What happened during the journey we know from Messerschmidt’s journals. These, along with his various manuscripts and report books,2 offer a glimpse into the course of a research trip at the beginning of the eighteenth century. What Messerschmidt called a travel journal is more a daily report on the course of the trip than a diary, since it is not primarily a collection of personal reflections. The care Messerschmidt took in documenting his research is evident from the entries, as is the amount of time and effort he invested in following his instructions from St. Petersburg.3 In addition to the usual report composed at the end of a trip, based on the journal entries, Messerschmidt’s reports allow precise reconstruction of his daily routines, practices and (particularly) collection activities. He noted his daily work load, his method of recording information, and the manner in which the various items collected in the course of the day were stored. In addition he described his route, the landscape, and the cultures of the various Siberian peoples he encountered. The travel journal is a document which allows us not only to answer the technical questions of how plants, animal skins and traditional clothing were brought to the St. Petersburg Kunstkammer, but also to assess what importance Messerschmidt-as-researcher accorded the various collection procedures and their presentation during the trip.4 I would like to focus less on the collections and the attendant picture of Siberia that Messerschmidt brought to St. Petersburg, and more on how the collections came into being and what significance they had for him during the course of the journey. In doing so, I will examine what familiar tools and techniques of description Messerschmidt brought into a land foreign to him, and I will suggest that he transferred the site of a museum or study to Siberia in order to carry out his cataloguing and descriptive activities. The transformation 1 Thus, with few exceptions, Messerschmidt’s important discoveries were forgotten by his contemporaries and carefully analyzed only in the twentieth century. One of these exceptions is Pallas (1782), pp. 97–107 (see further Winter, Jarosch and Uschmann, 1963, p. 335). A biographical note on Messerschmidt was published in the documents of the Academy of Science, St. Petersburg (‘Daniel Gottlieb Messerschmidt’, 1832). On the journey see the foreword by Winter to the edition of the diary (Winter et al., 1962–1977, vol. 1). Ilse Jahn has written a careful analysis of a bird manuscript by Messerschmidt. She shows the importance of his ornithological work and examines briefly his documenting and collecting methods (Jahn, 1989). 2 The documents of Messerschmidt from the Siberian journey are kept in the Archive of the Academy of Sciences in St. Petersburg. In the copy books of Messerschmidt one can find some reports that were lost on the way to St. Petersburg. They contain notes about letters and natural specimens which were sent to the medical faculty (for example, in the report volume AA, F. 98, op. 1, no. 20; also in AA, F. 98, op. 1, no. 21). 3 Referring to a note by Pallas, Winter also points up the role of Messerschmidt’s ‘fanatical work’ in his control of the details of the operation (Winter et al., 1962–1977, vol. 1, p. 9). 4 The goal of the trip was the delivery of the expected rich source of notes and discoveries relating to medical, economic and ethnographic knowledge of this region. Beside the masses of information and objects he brought back to St. Petersburg, Messerschmidt’s achievement—years before Linnaeus— was to develop and document methodological instructions for travellers on how to collect and to describe.

Boxes in Nature

383

of such a site of scientific practice allowed him to maintain his identity as a European scholar, part of the Res Publica Litteraria in the loneliness of a foreign land. As I present these material practices of natural history (Jardine et al., 1996, p. 8), I discuss in some detail how parts of Siberian nature were transferred from landscape to sheets and boxes, from storehouses to the court of St. Petersburg. I will not discuss Messerschmidt’s journals and related manuscripts in connection with travel literature, despite their close relationship.5 I am less concerned with Messerschmidt’s various experiences during his journey and his description of the Siberian peoples and landscapes—with the picture of the region he transported back to St. Petersburg—than with his various collections and methods of collecting, which afford us insight into academic practice, intellectual and material, at the beginning of the eighteenth century. An analysis of their material form will clarify the procedure of the constant accumulation and administration of knowledge during the trip. This essay is therefore a contribution to studies in the history of collection and history of science, which in recent years have shared a common interest in things, places and tools of knowledge-production. Such studies have shown that history of science must go beyond the interpretation of sources and consider the modes of formation of knowledge: How does knowledge come into being? How is it generated? Through these questions, historians have talked about places of knowledge, and about instruments and practices, in order to describe science, science in the making, and experiment.6 The history of collections (in the wake of Pomian) has discussed objects, inventories and the places and functions of collections of curiosities, art and natural history collections. These studies show how collections are compiled with various intentions, and how they in turn produce meaning.7 Some studies have combined both fields and shown the need to analyse objects themselves as well as their usage for scientific and artistic purposes.8 I use this work less to analyze the problems of existing collections and their scientific usage and more to explore a collection that during its compilation was often rearranged for different purposes, focusing on the process of arranging a collection as a typical element of academic culture. In her examination of Ulisse Aldrovandi Paula Findlen has brought out this connection between the collection of natural and artistic objects, documents and books, and the presenting academic (see Findlen, 1994). In following the museum back to its etymological predecessors 5 On early scientific journeys of the Royal Society see Carey (1997); here one can get a general idea about the travel literature of this time. In his text on Enlightenment travel, Siebers distinguishes five groups of learned journeys, one of which is the ‘academy journey’. His description makes obvious 1) that Messerschmidt’s ‘academy journey’ is one of the earliest, and 2) that it was not common to send a single person to attempt such a comprehensive task (Siebers, 1992). The secondary literature about travelling in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries is extensive; the bibliography of Harbsmeier (1994) offers a good orientation. 6 For example see Latour (1990), Mu¨ller-Wille (1999), Rheinberger et al. (1997), Shapin and Schaffer (1985) and Sibum (1995). 7 In this context see Pomian (1990) and Findlen (1994); on different ways of interpreting collections see Grote (1994) and—the fore-runner of history of collections—Impey and MacGregor (1985). 8 On this compare Meijers (1995).

384

Studies in History and Philosophy of Science

and tracing its importance during the Renaissance, she shows how this concept represented the encyclopedic tendencies of the sixteenth and above all the seventeenth centuries. Findlen describes the museum in this context as an ‘epistemological structure’ that influenced both the site and vision of scholarly, humanistic accumulation of knowledge (see Findlen, 1989, pp. 61–2), a line of thought that I will extend in this essay to show the epistemic function of the tools used by the collector in the early eighteenth century. Messerschmidt’s tools consisted of written categorization procedures (lists, catalogs, reports) and his material collection techniques (boxes, capsules, storage containers, and so on). The role that written organization plays in collected descriptions and data, and the manner in which they are stored and saved, has been discussed to date primarily in histories of inventorying and cataloguing in libraries and collections.9 The organization of the encyclopedic knowledge of a scholar according to the ideal of the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries by the classical method of excerpting should also be part of this discussion.10 Such ‘microtechniques of paperwork’ (Clark, 1996, p. 421) supplement material collection and presentation techniques. These aspects are not to be considered separately from the written procedures: particularly at the beginning of the eighteenth century, the fixed, written order of things as part of the disposition of knowledge, and the presentation on a shelf or in a case were directly related to each other.11 Finally, the organization of the objects, as well as the occupation of the erudite with this process, must take the accompanying site into consideration. The relevance of such a ‘place of knowledge’ was frequently referred to, emphasizing the epistemic significance of making knowledge visible in places like the laboratory, observatory or collection.12 This essay addresses Messerschmidt’s written and material organization, as well as the site in which it took place. What did ‘organization’ mean in 1720? What did it mean to create a museum in Siberia? Messerschmidt’s botanic collection activities shed light on these and other questions.13

9 See Leyh (1957), pp. 121–131, Norris (1939) and Zedelmaier (1992); in the context of art collections see Ketelsen (1990). 10 Meinel (1995) shows, for example in his detailed text on Jungius’ file-card box and excerpting methods, how the disposition of knowledge is connected with suitable working methods in the seventeenth century. 11 See Becker (1996), pp. 10–43 and Jahn (1979), p. 160. For cupboards and their arrangement in the eighteenth century see te Heesen (1996). From a contemporary perspective, see Latour (1997, pp. 234–241), who describes the regular ordered boxes of a soil exploration and shows their role in the process of transfering soil samples into a ‘lab-phenomenon’ (ibid., p. 239). 12 Compare Shapin (1991), Ophir and Shapin (1991) and Friese and Wagner (1993); also Findlen (1994), pp. 97–150, and Outram (1996). 13 On botanical sciences before Peter I see Rowell (1978). Posselt (1969) examines Messerschmidt’s writings on the Siberian flora in her dissertation. She gives a general background and trys to work out his scientific efficiency by analysing and determining his plants. Stearn (1958) gives a general overview on botanical explorations during the time of Linnaeus (for this reference I thank S. Mu¨ller-Wille).

Boxes in Nature

385

1. From Halle to Siberia: The Recruitment of Scholarly Investigation From a scientific perspective, little was known about the Russian province of Siberia at the beginning of the eighteenth century. A few trips for trading purposes had taken place, but a comprehensive, structured exploration and mapping of the territory was still lacking.14 A steady expansion of the Russian Empire toward Asia had begun in the seventeenth century for economic and diplomatic reasons (Sto¨kl, 1990, pp. 296–297), in the course of which the Siberian region came to be considered a significant transit point for trade and transportation. Russia entered the circle of European powers by acquiring territory in the Baltic region with the victory of Peter I (Regent from 1682–1725) over the Swedish King Carl XII, thereby taking over the leading role Sweden had played since the Thirty Years War. The security gained from this victory allowed Peter I to concentrate more on the eastern border of the Russian Empire. The economic and geographic exploration of Siberia, and the anticipated discovery of abundant natural resources, were the central reasons for the Czar’s interest. Settlements in Siberia were systematically expanded, and the region also served as a colony for farmers who had fled or been resettled there as well as for Swedish prisoners of war. The Swedish community in Tobolsk, the capital of Siberia since 1668, was so large that a Lutheran congregation and an affiliated school were established. Lively contact was established between the area around Tobolsk and the Prussian university city of Halle, especially with the orphanage and its pietistically inclined founder August Hermann Francke. The Siberian capital served as the starting point for Messerschmidt’s trip, since he found not only a familiar community of faith but also information on the surrounding region; Phillip Johann Tabbert von Strahlenberg and Karl Schulmann, Swedish prisoners of war, accompanied Messerschmidt during the first years of his exploration, from March 1721 to spring 1722, and their knowledge and assistance made the difficulties associated with the travels in the interior easier to bear (see Winter et al., 1962–1977, vol. 1, p. 7). Tabbert-von Strahlenberg became one of the leading experts on Siberia, along with Messerschmidt and Georg Wilhelm Steller.15 Peter I (who oriented himself toward West European countries like no Russian leader before him) recruited a number of foreign craftsmen, technicians and scientists to develop Siberia and the Russian Empire economically and scientifically. In the course of his first long study trip to Holland in 1697, he was not only interested in various manufacturing processes and crafts (such as ship building); he also made contact with scientists and visited numerous collections and other places of knowl14 See Hintzsche and Nickol (1996), p. 63. Cf. also the article of Robel (1976) on expeditions in Siberia and the German image of Russia. For a general overview of scientific explorations in Russia see Donnert (1983). On cartographical projects under Peter I see also Warep (1963). 15 During the first year Tabbert von Strahlenberg kept a diary and drew maps of several areas, on which foundation he published the famous ‘Historie der Reisen in Russland, Sibirien und der Großen Tartarei’ in 1730 (see Jarosch, 1966).

386

Studies in History and Philosophy of Science

edge.16 German academics were particularly sought after at the beginning of the eighteenth century, including a number from Halle. Like other German doctors, priests and geographers working for the Russians, Daniel Gottlieb Messerschmidt had studied in Halle.17 This Prussian university, where Christian Wolff had taught mathematics and philosophy since 1706 and had pleaded for the practical application of knowledge, was a center of the early Enlightenment. Wolff’s ideas were characterized by a ‘demonstrative’ pedagogical style (see Ahrbeck, n.d., p. 43), and a program of individual logical steps designed to give the sciences a uniform, formal grounding in mathematical method. The pietist August Hermann Francke was also influential in Halle in the early eighteenth century; founder of the city’s orphanage, its school and its mercantile basis, Francke established a pedagogical program that united Christian education and Lutheran faith with practical training. Knowledge of geography, natural history and geometry were priorities in Francke’s program, and his charges enjoyed botanical excursions, work in Francke’s institutions, and lessons from the orphanage’s art and natural history collections.18 These collections, developed in the last years of the seventeenth century, took their special significance not only from their importance as instructional tools but also as repositories for the diverse messages from priests trained by Francke who were now pursuing their pietistic missionary service abroad. These contacts were important in developing an intensive relationship with the circles in Russia and around Peter I, as Francke sent priests to outlying areas such as Siberia (see Rosenfeld, 1954), using them to further his economic contacts as well as his missionary activities, particularly in trade routes to China via Russia. Messerschmidt spent the years 1708–1713 in Halle. He studied medicine with Friedrich Hoffmann, who was closely associated with Francke, having studied botany and medicine with him. It is possible that Messerschmidt had worked in Francke’s pharmacy and had taken part in the production of medicines, since Francke’s herb garden, his art and natural history collection and the orphanage’s library were usually shared with medical students at the university in Halle (Jahn, 1989, p. 107). There the students were encouraged to observe and describe natural specimens as well as to make records of their results. In any event, in his medical studies Messerschmidt received instruction in the fundamentals of Materia Medica, detailed collection and conservation techniques, and the basic principles of presenting, organizing and labelling natural specimens (Jahn, 1979, p. 155, and Bessler, 1961, pp. 7–8). In 1713, the newly qualified doctor returned to his home town of Danzig and practiced medicine there. After conquering the cities of Stralsund and Wismar in the course of the Northern

16 See the exhibition catalog ‘Peter de Grote en Holland’ (Kistemaker et al., 1996), where especially his scientific and technological connections with the Netherlands are described. On recruitment of foreign technicians see Rieber (1995). 17 See Winter (1953). 18 See Storz (1962) and Mu¨ller-Bahlke and Go¨ltz (1998).

Boxes in Nature

387

Campaign, Peter I stayed briefly in Danzig. The Czar was interested in the city’s collections, visiting, among others, the natural history collection of Messerschmidt’s associate Johann Phillip Breyne (see Jahn, 1989, p. 107); and he ultimately acquired such a collection while in the city (Bacmeister, 1777, p. 86). The purchase of significant existing collections was part of the acquisition policy the Czar followed to develop his collections.19 The research trip made by Messerschmidt, whom Breyne recommended to Peter I in Danzig, should not therefore be viewed solely in the context of the ecological or geographic interests of the Russian ruler. The Czar’s famous collections, to be filled with curiosities from his empire, are a further facet which remains to be addressed in the scholarship on the subject.20 In this context, the first scientific expedition equipped by the St. Petersburg court (see Donnert, 1983, p. 76) to bring natural specimens, ethnographic objects and data from the Russian Empire to the famous Kunstkamera has to be viewed above all as a representation of Russia’s power and its distinctive national interest. ‘The extent to which the imperial Kunstkammer were expanded by natural specimens and curiosities gathered through Dr. Messerschmidt’s efforts in Siberia exceeded all expectations’ (Materialy, 1890, p. 151). Messerschmidt had contacts and exchanges with various academics to thank for this success (see Winter et al., 1962–1977, vol. 1, pp. 3–4). His path from a Prussian university city to the court of Peter I, and ultimately to an unexplored region of the Russian Empire, demonstrates the transfer of educational concepts and medical knowledge accumulated in Halle to the new Russian capital and finally to Siberia. 2. The Trip Daniel Gottlieb Messerschmidt signed the contract for the research trip in St. Petersburg on 15 November 1718 (Winter et al., 1962–1977, vol. 1, p. 4). Robert Areskine undertook its organization; after his death, Laurenz Blumentrost took over. Both men had administered the Kunstkammer and library of the Czar and enjoyed a close relationship with the medical faculty.21 These three institutions and the men heading them were the driving force behind academic development in the new city that had just been established in 1703. They implemented the interests and demands of the Czar, and during the years that Messerschmidt served the Russian government they worked to establish an Academy of Sciences (Winter, 1953, pp. 176–77). Messerschmidt’s trip to Siberia was directly related to an increasingly established academic culture in the Petersburg court. The trip should 19 In the same year he acquired the famous cabinet of the Amsterdam apothecary Seba and one year later the well known collection of Ruysch (see Bacmeister, 1777, pp. 85–86, and Kistemaker et al., 1996, pp. 41–53). 20 See Neverov (1985) and the article by Meijers in Kistemaker et al. (1996), pp. 22–36. One of the first descriptions of the Kunstkamera is Bacmeister (1777). 21 ‘Faculty’ here does not refer to a university faculty—St. Petersburg did not have a university at that time—but to a central state institution which was responsible to the court.

388

Studies in History and Philosophy of Science

therefore not be viewed merely as one of the Academy’s first organizational efforts (see Winter et al., 1962–1977, vol. 1, p. 6), but also as an effort to establish a comprehensive research basis for the new institution. Messerschmidt began his trip in St. Petersburg in March 1719, and reached Tobolsk in December after a lengthy stay in Moscow negotiating with Siberian officials. He took 14 months in Tobolsk to prepare for his journey into the Siberian wilderness (see Jarosch, 1966, pp. 218–219). Before he left, he received instructions for his trip from Laurenz Blumentrost, along with the request that he keep a daily journal (Winter et al., 1962–1977, p. 6). He had brought his bookcases with him from St. Petersburg as an indispensable piece of equipment,22 and we can be sure that he replenished his supplies of paper as well as food in Tobolsk. We can only guess which of the containers he had with him from the beginning and which he had built during the trip. From his comments about ‘coarse and incompetent’ servants, we can gather that bulkier cases and other, more fragile pieces both had to be transported from the very beginning of the trip. Messerschmidt, along with Tabbert von Strahlenberg and Schulmann, finally began his trip into the interior in spring 1721. His two friends took their leave after a year,23 leaving Messerschmidt responsible for the comprehensive exploration of all areas. He was accompanied only by several servants and a cook (see Messerschmidt’s journal, hereafter TB, vol. 1, p. 224). He depended on help from the local inhabitants and their settlement leaders, and was able to demonstrate the legitimacy of his undertaking through the agreement negotiated in Moscow with the Siberian representatives (TB, vol. 2, p. 186). But his comments indicate that he had trouble being served as he expected. Messerschmidt performed the work of draftsman, geographer, secretary, natural scientist and archivist almost without help. Such a ‘solo mission’ was unusual in a trip explicitly for research purposes, and can only be explained by the fact that Messerschmidt’s journey was one of the first research trips designed by the Academy. In 1733, several years after Messerschmidt’s return, the so-called second Kamtschatka expedition departed from St. Petersburg (a first mission had taken place from 1725–30); among its participants were G. F. Mueller (ethnology, history), J. G. Gmelin (natural history), and L. De I’Isle de la Croye`re (astronomy, physics) (see Hintzsche and Nickol, 1996, pp. 76ff.). This expedition included from the beginning a number of academics specializing in various disciplines, and a large sum of money was available. While it is the case that Messerschmidt had to be equipped to master the com-

22 The complete list of Messerschmidt’s travelling literature is in preparation (according to personal communication by Ilse Jahn). It is clear from different notes of Messerschmidt’s that he took not only his personal books with him but also some from the Imperial library, including works of P. Belon, U. Aldrovandi, J. Jonston, J. B. du Hamel, John Ray, J. P. de Tournefort, F. Willughby. While he was travelling he requested some books on fishes and quadrupeds in a letter to the medical faculty (AA, F. 98, op. 1, no. 21, sheet 76). 23 They were permitted to leave Russia as prisoners of war after the conclusion of peace in Nystadt (1721) (Jarosch, 1966, p. 219).

Boxes in Nature

389

plete range of research tasks by himself, the vast scope and variety of instruments, tools and containers with which he travelled corresponded more with expectations of a lengthy trip. He travelled with many horses or sleds and was therefore able to collect a much greater amount of material than could Linnaeus, for example, on his 1732 trip to Lapland, initiated by the Royal Society of Science in Uppsala. Although his trip lasted only a few months, Linnaeus, in contrast to Messerschmidt, was barely equipped for the exploration of the three natural realms and environment of Lapland: he had packed his horse with a ‘microscope, perspective-instrument, and mosquito netting to protect himself from the mosquitoes,’ a notebook, a ‘large number of bound papers, in order to store plants’ and several books (Linne´, 1991, p. 7). The individual phases of Messerschmidt’s expedition were determined by the seasons. In December and January he stayed in his winter camp for a number of weeks, but as soon as the weather allowed he set out on his route with pack horses, sleds or boats. The daily routine in his winter camp was determined by visits from village leaders, work on his catalogues or copying documents. During the journey, the weather determined the itinerary, and Messerschmidt’s daily activities consisted of gathering natural specimens and other information. In order to organize, save and shape the mass of gathered commentaries, objects and data into a coherent, transparent order, Messerschmidt created a clever recording and collection system, which usually kept him busy until late at night. 3.

Organization of the Record System

Messerschmidt wrote the first notes and observations with the help of an ivory writing tablet (TB, vol. 1, p. 241). He used so-called ‘Schedis’, individual pieces of paper quickly written, that he ‘inserted’ in his journal in order to avoid losing them (TB, vol. 2, p. 215). From these notes or from his memory, he transferred the ‘unusual’ each evening into the journal he kept during the entire trip. Then he had to plow through the ‘work fit for slaves or servants’ (TB, vol. 3, p. 233) of folding and binding paper. He could only begin making entries when he had constructed a new journal or manuscript. In this journal, he recorded his daily routine, made note of incidents with migratory animals, and entered comments and findings. He noted which plants he was able to collect, classified them in most cases according to the Tournefort system, and reported on the surroundings in which they had been discovered. Natural historical observations and comments on the lifestyle of the Mongols found their place seamlessly next to entries as to the buying of new supplies and the activities of Messerschmidt’s servant Michalja. One diary written quickly for several days, described by Messerschmidt as ‘sloppily conceived’, had to be carefully rewritten after eight days ‘so that I do not become confused later’ (TB, vol. 2, p. 194). He excerpted this journal calling the resulting notes and comments his ‘Annotationibus botanicis’ (TB, vol. 1, p. 284). The journal and the notations formed the basis of further records, and on 29 November 1723 Messer-

390

Studies in History and Philosophy of Science

schmidt delayed moving on because of his work on these records: ‘In the afternoon I had the sleds packed, except for my hand luggage, because there was more to take note of and record in the journal, and I was not able to set out’ (TB, vol. 2, p. 170). The written and constantly reorganized annotations (see TB, vol. 1, p. 264) formed the basis for further refinements, in forms such as catalogs, specifications and reports. Messerschmidt kept an ‘Index Botanicus Siberia’ from 1719– 1721, for example: in the small volume, plants were entered alphabetically or named according to the Tournefort system. The available pages were labelled with letters in the usual manner and each letter was followed by several blank pages, so that plants could be entered at Messerschmidt’s leisure. In a second step, he added further names from other authors, so that he could find the plant in the literature he had with him, with the page number of a work cited in abridged form;24 this time-consuming cataloguing was standard in the era. In addition to the index, which was designed to make the most complete list of all Siberian plants possible, Messerschmidt also compiled various Catalogi plantarum officinalium (see TB, vol. 1, p. 277) containing preliminary results and lists of plants, and worked on a Materia Medica.25 Finally, he summarized his botanical results in the Sibiria Perlustrata, which listed the scientific findings according to discipline, with a section devoted to botany.26 Messerschmidt gave special attention to this particular manuscript, which together with the journals and annotations comprised his regular reports to St. Petersburg.27 This helped to complete the lists of his natural collections and ethnographic information, which were added to the reports and natural-specimen cases.28 Messerschmidt’s first step was to make note of everything ‘worthy of mention’ from the day’s events. In the best tradition of the eighteenth century’s thinking 24 See AA, F. 98, op. 1, no. 19. This ‘Index Botanicus Siberia’ is a little notebook which he also used later on for recording supplementary information. Here Messerschmidt refers to works of Matthioli, Plinius, Gesner, Ray, Rivinus and Roesel. With the help of these authors he gave extended diagnoses of the plants. 25 Materia Medica are materials from the three kingdoms of nature that have medical effects (see Zedler, 1732–54, vol. 19, p. 2019). The term is also used for a ‘medicine depot’, a collection of texts and recipes noting useful plants and materials for healing purposes (see Schmitz, 1978, p. 99). To establish a Materia Medica was Messerschmidt’s task; he was, after all, sent out by the medical faculty, one of the highest authorities of the country (see Amburger, 1966, pp. 149–152). 26 Sibiria Perlustrata was a summary of Messerschmidt’s research results in Latin (AA F. 98, op. 1, no. 22, see also Posselt, 1969, pp. 75–88). 27 AA F. 98, op. 1, no. 20. In this folio volume are different copies of Messerschmidt’s reports to St. Petersburg. The fourth report to the Kunstkamera and medical faculty gives an impression of the content of these works: ‘Specimen Historiae Naturalis bestehend In kurtzer Annotation oder Catalogo der bißhero in Reußland und Siberien wahrgenommenen Kra¨uter und Pflantzen. Nebst Einigen ModellRißen, so wohl zur Illustration der Botanique, als auch Regni Animalis. wobey Einige angesamlete Papillions zur Erla¨uterung der Historie Insectorum, und zum Regno Minerali geho¨rige kleinigkeiten, Laut Specification in kleinen Scha¨chtelchen eingeschlossen ergehen’. Messerschmidt copied all the reports and letters and kept an extra list of them (TB, vol. 3, p. 265). 28 For example: ‘Specification aller in den sechs ersten / Monahten des 1724 Jahres angesamleten, und im Kasten AB beygelegter Naturalien’ (AA F. 98, op. 1, no. 28). Here Messerschmidt kept the name of the naturalia; every specimen was serially numbered, and the date of its storage and the number of pieces were noted.

Boxes in Nature

391

that the world is full of curiosities that need to be compared and contrasted to grasp their significance, and fully aware that he found himself in an area that had yet to be described, Messerschmidt captured all the details available to him, as a Baconian ‘merchant of light’. In this first phase, the commonplace was recorded along with scholarly information, like someone taking stock of the depot of nature. We can retrace his steps from these notes, as Messerschmidt traveled across the Siberian landscape, making observations with great sensitivity. The second step was the organization of the materials collected during the day. In this step, he divided the information carefully along disciplinary lines29 and added various recording methods for the individual themes. At this point everyday activities were no longer mentioned, as Messerschmidt sought to move beyond merely noting curiosities to making evaluations and drawing initial conclusions during the trip (see also Jahn, 1989, pp. 106, 125). The organization and variety of materials led him to develop a classification system for minerals similar to Tournefort’s classification of plants according to class, section and genre (see TB, vol. 2, pp. 26–29). He did complain of the enormous amount of work this entailed—being in Siberia, without academics, living or dead, available for consultation—but he wanted to make a start in order to stimulate further research from those who would follow him. The constant condensing of gathered materials, the use of Messerschmidt’s listing method, and the transfer of a functioning organization into another discipline, together constituted a neverending process. These activities—excerpting, annotation, list-making, selection and recompilation, archival work, writing ‘Schedis’ and discarding preliminary notes—do not initially appear particularly noteworthy. They are, however, testimony to an academic tradition of knowledge-preparation that managed the growing literature of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries through organized notes and excerpts. In the course of the activities listed above, the ‘libri excerptorum’ was developed, which—as I will show shortly—were not unimportant for Messerschmidt’s treatment of the objects to be classified and stored. The polyhistorical tradition of excerpting is based on the making available of knowledge from books that have been read. In addition, individual pieces of information are distilled from books and entered under a certain title in their own book or cabinet of excerpts (see Fig. 1), either in a continuous, chronological manner, so that an index has to be created at the conclusion of such a book/closet, or with the pages of the book organized according to a discipline-oriented rubric and the information entered in the appropriate chapters (see Meinel, 1995, pp. 170–173). Such collection and commentary books—so-called collectanea—had been known as sources of ideas for speeches, the humanists having used them ‘following ancient rhetorical tradition’ (Ueding, 1985, p. 2). Both processes can be summarized in the following steps: 1) collect,

29 He enumerates the following fields: geography, philology, archeology, mineralogy, botany, zoology, medicine (see TB, vol. 3, p. 194).

392

Studies in History and Philosophy of Science

Fig. 1. (Figures illustrate representative equipment of the sort that Messerschmidt took on his Siberian journey.) Exemplar of an excerpt cupboard (in Placcius, 1689, Staatsbibliothek zu Berlin Preußischer Kulturbesitz). Organized by tituli or loci, the owner could pin his schedis on long lists, ordered by alphabet or topic. The drawers could contain manuscript or prints (see Meinel, 1995, pp. 180–182).

2) view, 3) organize the material (see ibid, p. 3); this was the basis of the type of academic accounting that made note of experiences and observations in order to use them productively later. Messerschmidt entered his notes in the style of a journal, that is, gradually, without differentiating between themes, yet organizing according to a specific rubric: from journals to annotations and finally to catalogs and indexes. It is interesting that Messerschmidt rarely applied these methods to the natural history books he brought with him, but instead ordered his surroundings into an arrangement with its roots in the written culture that combined the newest classification systems and thereby sought to master an unmanageable amount of factual and empirical information. Messerschmidt undertook nothing less than a ‘book of nature’, or better, an account book of nature, written by the ‘merchant of light’. 4. Organization of Objects Messerschmidt not only made connections (TB, vol. 2, p. 250) between the written results of the trip, or his ‘literaria functione’ (TB, vol. 1, p. 224), but also made reference to storage equipment on the trip (see, for example, TB, vol. 3, pp. 262–263). In addition to the many boxes, pieces of luggage, cases and ‘small wooden coffins’, (TB, vol. 2, p. 257) the organizing containers that stored the natural samples collected each day were especially important. Messerschmidt needed them for objects he wanted to ‘put aside first-hand’ (TB, vol 2, p. 244), meaning that as soon as he decided he wanted to take an object with him, he placed it immediately into a natural sample storage travel case (which he also called an

Boxes in Nature

393

‘herb case’).30 He had his servants build one such case during the trip in April 1724, and described it in detail in his journal (TB, vol. 2, p. 244): it was divided into several levels and drawers, containing first dried plants (Bothanotheca), then the partes avium (Ornithotheca), and finally insects, seeds, stones, and so on. The 18-drawer case itself weighed so much that Messerschmidt calculated that half the carrying capacity of a pack horse was required even before anything was put in the drawers (TB, vol. 2, p. 244). The objects had later to be ‘translocated’ from their temporary storage facilities and logged in catalogues.31 Some of the collected seeds from the seed cases (TB, vol. 3, p. 238) were transferred into Messerschmidt’s Seminarium: ‘And (I) let take the seed packets (. . .) out of their cases, arrange them on the batten in the parlour according to their classibus Institut[ionum] Tourneforti32 and then open them from the first class forward, pour them out, sift through them, ventilate and clean them. Then some of each type was set aside in paper to transport them to the seminarium, whereupon the cleaned seeds were put back into their packets, bound with leather cords, sealed, labelled with their title and placed back into the seed case’ (TB, vol. 3, p. 238). Such seed cases were among the natural sample cases that were later transported to the storage facilities of the winter quarters (see Fig. 2). Collecting and conservation of seeds did not suffice for Messerschmidt. As with the written classification, he began using a sophisticated organizational scheme in a ‘Seminarium,’ a case in which a small quantity of all types of collected seeds were stored for comparison.33 Most samples were wrapped in paper, but some were stored in small capsules (see TB, vol. 3, p. 210). On 19 November 1724 he reported on a case that he had cleaned containing 1,100 capsules. The case was to be used to store and organize newly collected specimina from the past months; the capsules were small containers for seeds made of wood, glass or clay (see TB, vol. 1, p. 323) corresponding to those used in pharmacies at that time.34 He called this organizational activity his ‘botanicis laboribus curiosis’ (TB, vol. 3, p. 242). When this work was completed, all seed containers and other natural specimens were placed in cases and put in the ‘Ambaren’.35 Messerschmidt had depositories of such storage containers in several settlements, but above all in his winter camps, 30

Messerschmidt himself collected some of the specimens; he also employed boys for this work. Messerschmidt started no herbarium (see Posselt, 1969, p. 21), although he collected plants. (See his Bothanotheca and some imprints of plants in his documents, AA F. 98, op. 1, no. 20; sheet 100.) 32 In his classification system Tournefort developed 22 classes; see his Institutiones Rei Herbariae of 1700. 33 This example served later on in St. Petersburg to identify the plants of the seminarium when a commission of the Academy of Sciences had to judge their value (see Materialy, 1885, pp. 374–375). 34 Zedler described them as little paper boxes used by pharmacists to store powder and other materials (Zedler, 1732–54, vol. 5, p. 714; see also TB, vol. 1, p. 323). These capsules were glued by Messerschmidt on one side with ‘Phengiten’, a kind of glass stone (Zedler, 1732–54, vol. 27, p. 1780). 35 Tabbert von Strahlenberg described the ‘Ambaren’ as follows: ‘Thus the Russians call a Pantry, or the Room where they keep their Victuals, and all Sorts of Utensils; Amber, with the Cosacks and Czerkaffians on the Black-Sea, signifies a Cave, in which they keep their Corn, or Magazines; and Amber, in the Arabick Tongue, signifies to collect, or gather together’ (von Strahlenberg, 1738, p. 323). 31

394

Studies in History and Philosophy of Science

Fig. 2. A box for seeds (in Lettsome, 1804, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek Mu¨nchen), showing the best construction for travelling. Different compartments contained little seed packages.

where the objects waited until they were sent to the court in St. Petersburg. Messerschmidt carried the majority of the objects and writings with him to the end of his trip at Tobolsk, where they were finally packed and sealed: ‘A great quantity of large and small cases and packs’ were ‘sent to Tobolsk with the government’s insignia’ (Materialy, 1885–1890, vol. 6, pp. 150–151). As in the written organizing system, the collected objects were at first placed in yet another temporary storage facility. Stones lay next to ‘vegetabilia’, bird eggs next to maps and dried plants. Objects were translocated first from the natural specimen travel cases, where the organization was most clearly delineated according to the three spheres of nature, into special storage containers, where they were arranged according to discipline. In this latter step, Messerschmidt organized the seeds according to Tournefort’s 22 classes, analogous to his written record system. He used this common system, which was first replaced by Linnaeus’ classification for plants, as a material orientation aid that was transformed into a written and material storage form. While samples were immediately sorted into a classification, nevertheless their containers had to be opened repeatedly. For conservation purposes, the seeds had to be aired, the animal corpses placed in new waxed wrappings, and disintegrated mineral samples had to be replaced with new ones. Messerschmidt used his storage containers not only for storage but, as with his written record system, he sought to achieve a final organizational system for the cases that

Boxes in Nature

395

could also be used as a reference system during his trip,36 thereby coordinating the recording and storage systems. His organizational method for plants and their seeds followed the same, increasingly differentiated steps as did his written notes. Messerschmidt found the classification scheme based on Tournefort’s system to be sufficient, even when individual plants could not be worked into the existing system (TB, vol. 1, p. 307). It is remarkable how detailed were Messerschmidt’s organizational systems, and in particular how detailed was the classification system for plants, especially when we remember that there were six disciplines beyond botany that received similar treatment (see TB, vol. 3, p. 194). The activities that have been outlined here are inconceivable without an appropriate setting. It is possible to store initial notes and seeds in a tent, but with more elaborate procedures, more comfortable surroundings are necessary. 5. The Site Messerschmidt reflected on the course of his work, describing it as his ‘labores minervales’, his ‘Minervan labors’ dedicated to art and science, which consisted of 1. observatio, 2. annotatio and 3. relatio elaborata (TB, vol. 3, p. 216). He also described the sites where the individual steps in his work took place as follows: observations did not ‘take place in loco fixo, but throughout the entire Siberian Empire and then in curru et via [only nudo obtutu]’. This refers to the phase of notations on writing tablets and scraps of paper, of the first collections of natural samples and their storage on the wagons. The work of annotation followed, which ‘could not be furthered in curru et via, where it was impossible to read or write with the nib because of the rattling and shaking, but only in the tent constructed to give shelter against the storms’ (ibid.). Messerschmidt wrote his journal and detailed his daily routine in this tent. In this phase, he used the travel cases for a first, rough organization. Finally, he called the last step of his work ‘relatorii elaborati’, meaning the careful comparison and revamping of collected knowledge. It was not possible to carry out this work in the tent, ‘but in absolute quiet select rooms and quarters (not at all rooms with open fireplaces or smoky rooms, but clean parlours and white rooms and places) necessary for such work’ (ibid.). In such quarters, he wrote ‘final drafts’, worked on the catalog, placed the seeds in their capsules and labelled the cases (see Fig. 3). This was the place where samples were compared with each other, where he undertook sections on birds and other animals, and filled the room with records and natural samples: only in such ‘white rooms’ was it possible to establish relationes, ‘which required that all serinia, cases and boxes be open and available, to revise them all, which for this reason and many others could not take place in a tent’. This was the stage when Messerschmidt compared

36

For the history of boxes and their meanings see te Heesen (1997), pp. 157–163.

396

Studies in History and Philosophy of Science

Fig. 3. On the frontispiece of Valentini’s ‘Natur- und Material Kammer’ (Valentini, 1704, Niedersa¨chsische Staats- und Universita¨tsbibliothek Go¨ttingen, detail), Hermes stands in the middle of an idealized scene with packs, sacks and open boxes that are ready to be shipped or that have just arrived from overseas.

his work to that of a painter of miniatures or a watchmaker, pointing to the precision and exactitude of his work,37 in contrast with the earlier, rougher work that his untrained servants could at times help him with. In the ‘white room’, he could depend only on himself. The parlour was the place he could spread out his cases and records, the site he called his museum (TB, vol. 3, p. 335). A ‘museum’, according to Zedler’s encyclopedia, is ‘a building where academics live, eat and study together’ or have ‘their studies separated from the cities so that they would have quiet surroundings’ (Zedler, 1732–54, vol. 22, p. 1375). It meant, then, a place where academic work and research took place. Zedler equated the museum with a study, a definition of the concept that predominated in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries (see Findlen, 1989, p. 68), from the fifteenth century better known as a studiolo or scrittorio, a usage derived from Petrarca, who was the first to see loneliness and quiet as the basis of intellectual work. The background of seclusion was a study room with books, collected objects and papers (see Liebenwein, 1977, pp. 44ff.). The theorist of collections Caspar Friedrich Neickel summarized what should be present in such a museum: ‘Still today, a place dedicated to studying is called a museum, where books belonging to literature or learning as well as various curious and rare items are stored’ (Neickel, 1727, p. 5). A few lines later, however, he gave a more exact definition: ‘Museum means a building or chamber that contains 1) a collection of either Naturalibus or Artificiosis, natural or artificial things that tend toward the curious; 2) a case or repository with books, primarily those on the subject of the affiliated collection’ (ibid., p. 6); this corre37 Here see the German accounts of Messerschmidt: ‘Es wollte aber mit dieser anatomischen Arbeit in der russischen Rauchstube so wenig Art haben, als ob man einen Miniaturmaler oder auch Uhrmacher in einen Schornstein logieren und von ihnen erfordern wollte, jenem zwar, eine pie`ce en miniature, diesem aber eine englische Taschenuhr zu verfertigen, da ich denn wohl gewiß dafu¨r halte, daß ihre Arbeit, wenn sie geraten sollte, in unserm kultivierten Europa viel ho¨her und kostbarer wu¨rde gescha¨tzet werden als diejenigen, so in sauberen, dazu requirierten Zimmern gemachet worden’ (TB, vol. 2, p. 172).

Boxes in Nature

397

sponded with the belief at the beginning of the eighteenth century and earlier, that a musuem could satisfactorily house encyclopedic knowledge. The term referred to a site which, as in Zedler, served purposes of private study. At the same time, however, Neickel also considered such a museum as a place of academic exchange. His ‘Museographia’ with its list of the most famous collections was to serve as a travel guide for those interested, pointing out each city’s best and most renowned collections. The museum should be made available to travellers and colleagues; it was a place where the organization of books and the organization of objects appeared side by side. Messerschmidt tried to create such a site, usually in his winter quarters. ‘On 8 October (Monday), I organized my economy and my museum.’ (TB, vol. 1, p. 335) Far from the organization of daily economic issues, he divided these areas explicitly from each other, and was able to pursue his own tasks. His collections were assembled here, as well as his book cases, his documents and his notes. The site was characterized by two traits that corresponded with his conception of an academic space and made it possible for him to work there: the space had to be ‘quiet’ and ‘white’. There had to be a further aspect, however, to make it possible for the researcher to perform ‘true’ work—his room has to be inaccessible to other inhabitants of the village without special permission. Messerschmidt mentioned critically that the established citizens or ‘Gulaschniken’ (those without a home) came to him because they were not otherwise occupied and sought ‘stimulation or curiosity and looked around in his room and inspected the open collections present there’ (TB, vol. 3, p. 215). This not only cost him time (ibid.) but subjected him to his visitors’ curiosity, an unscholarly, intrusive nosiness that did not seek knowledge but merely stared uncomprehendingly at the collections. When the visit of a local bishop loomed, Messerschmidt’s room was full of ‘more than 50 to 60 exuvien-cases,. . . only partially packed’. He was forced to ‘hide as many as possible to the side, under the benches and the room’s oven, so that my Russian guests would not give into their otherwise unavoidable habit and pose questions’ or ‘open the cases without asking’ (TB, vol. 4, p. 84). He was unwilling to answer questions he considered unworthy, or to allow his visitors to touch the collection. Messerschmidt’s scholarly space (or museum) was therefore the place within which he could maintain his civility and his image of himself as a ‘European academic’ (TB, vol. 3, p. 70) amid the ‘wastelands’ (Jabbert von Strahlenberg) and the infidels and pagans. On 3 March 1723, he refused even the request of a governor to observe the dissection of a musk deer, ‘because it is clear to me that the Russians do not have any honestum animum or even true appreciation for art and science, but only want to observe art in order to make fun of the artist later. I therefore rejected and let him know that the Medici keep their museum for themselves in such instances and no one beside Filii artis or Medici is allowed in. If a public dissection were to take place, each member of the audience would have to pay 2

398

Studies in History and Philosophy of Science

[here follows an unidentifiable sign for a coin] entrance fee. If he did not believe this, he was free to investigate it further’ (TB, vol. 2, p. 22). In addition to the possibility of maintaining the boundary between himself and the natives through this refuge, the museum also embodied his ‘European manners’. Messerschmidt grumbled that it ‘was not usual anywhere in Europe’ that drunkards made noise in the street during the workday, but rather that one there ‘has complete quiet in our indoor facilities’ (TB, vol. 3, p. 215; see also vol. 2, p. 160). He also emphasised that ‘our European academics never work in the field, but in closed rooms, in order to be without restrictions’ (TB, vol. 3, p. 70) in performing their dissections, whereas he had to perform them in the field.38 After five years of his trip, he again expressed the importance of such a space with a sigh: he was the guest of a ‘Provincial’, enjoying his collection and his house, which was built ‘in the Petersburg-Italian style, with large windows, bright and cheery, and was able to sense a shift in my mood to happiness after suffocating for so many years in dark rooms and black chambers’ (TB, vol. 4, p. 57). 6. Conclusion I have tried to present a scientific method of investigation at the beginning of the eighteenth century through the example of the work and collection method of Daniel Gottlieb Messerschmidt, whose museum or study anchored his travels. In this site, he thought of himself as an academic or scholar, and treated his surroundings as something different. The museum and its equipment formed the basis for the continuity of his existence as an academic outside a small central European state-network, which bound Messerschmidt above all to a Res Publica Litteraria, a community of academics representing the encyclopedic idea of the unification of all sciences. In Siberia, Messerschmidt missed such a community based on communication and the exchange of knowledge. Messerschmidt indignantly protested his exile ‘in desertam, where there is no subsidia literaria, nor vivi or mortui doctores to consult’ (TB, vol. 2, p. 26). He missed the possibility of carrying on discussions, testing his hypotheses in debate, and consulting with friends and teachers. Letters came far too infrequently, and, conversely, he could never know if his mail would reach St. Petersburg, Halle, Danzig or London. He avoided discussion with nomads as well as governors, and considered their curiosity merely blank staring at the items collected in his museum. His repeated complaints about noise showed how strongly he felt about the distance between his own heritage and the lifestyle of the inhabitants of the villages and hamlets he visited. Messerschmidt used the theme silence—something European academics could claim from 38 For this eurocentric view on a ‘cultivated Europe’ and an ‘uncivilized Russia’ as two incompatible contrasts see Wolff (1994). The difference between civilized and uncivilized is also expressed in his contradiction between bright and dark, ordered and chaotic, observing and staring. But this would require a more careful interpretation and therefore another text.

Boxes in Nature

399

craftsmen and other noisy professions in the 18th century (see Grimm, 1987, pp. 15–20)—as a synonym for stupidity and to degrade his surroundings. In a similar manner, he used the color ‘white’ to establish a differentiation from the usual ‘black, smoky rooms’ of Siberian villages. The museum made it possible for Messerschmidt to maintain his identity as an erudite person. The site shielded him from unwanted visits and made his multifaceted work methods possible. Just as his work site had to meet certain criteria, he followed his work methods consistently—his written records as well as his collections were constantly being reworked and the data consolidated. He could only carry out his method of inductive investigation through precise accounting or bureaucratic procedures, and his daily entries in his journal sometimes took on a tone of petty justification; such as when he mentioned how many hours a particular procedure took, and how much time his ‘ignorant servants’ cost him (TB, vol. 2, p. 214). These entries reflect a pietistic work ethic that considered every hour to be usable for work. His record forms were subject to a clear methodology that sought to make up for the lack of witnesses for his descriptions.39 Zedler described the step between the journal and the manuscript (which he called ‘annotations’) as an ‘action, since an individual without a witness has to fulfil an obligation’ (Zedler, 1732–54, vol. 1, p. 536). Messerschmidt was well aware of his situation, and his enthusiasm for work as well as his methodology were influenced by the realization that he would be held accountable for his work at the end of his trip.40 His methodology of collecting, observing, abstracting and finally organizing materials corresponded to the traditional methodology of ‘Methodus excerpendi’ and rhetoric (see Ueding, 1985, p. 3). The humanistically grounded methods of excerpting and extraction allowed him constantly to reduce the complexity of his empirical data. The progressively shaped ideal of natural philosophy in the seventeenth century was based in the inductive method. The researcher was to approach nature through careful observation and detailed description (Carey, 1997, p. 286). A ‘factual sensibility’ (Daston, 1988) for the scientific objects collected (and to be collected) established itself in the culture of cabinets, laboratories, trips and the Res Publica Litteraria. Messerschmidt devoted particular attention to the natural objects he classified and stored. But this essay should have demonstrated the significance that researchers accorded their methodologies, tools and the sites for such work: the factual sensibility extended beyond the scientific object itself to the sites and media involved, and the records and the objects to be recorded and classified were of equal rank in their ‘thingness’ at the beginning of the eighteenth century. Both 39

For a ‘methodizing of experience’ and its connection to diaries see Stagl (1983), pp. 17, 20–23. According to Johann Georg Gmelin, Messerschmidt was a hard-working scholar, skilful not only in natural history but in other fields too. ‘And all that he had to do by himself with no real helpers. . . . In his notes were some descriptions, for which someone would like to have more witnesses’ (Gmelin, 1751/52, prologue). Messerschmidt must have foreseen this accusation. The absent witness was one of the reasons that he treated his material with such bureaucratic thoroughness. For the debate on the witness and his credibility see Shapin (1994), pp. 211–242, esp. pp. 218–221 and 238–242. 40

400

Studies in History and Philosophy of Science

factors contributed to transforming (what had been merely) boxes in Siberia into Siberia in a box. Acknowledgements—A first version of this text was developed during a project promoted by the Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft at the Research Center for European Enlightenment at Potsdam. While I was preparing my research trip to St. Petersburg, Gabriela Lehmann-Carli gave me helpful advice and Birgit Scholz translated some Russian texts for me. Michail Feinstein and his collegues from the Archive of the Academy of Sciences in St. Petersburg generously made it possible to work with the documents. A first English version of this text was presented in 1996 at the workshop ‘Display of Nature in Eighteenth-Century Europe’ at the Max-Planck-Institute for the History of Science, Berlin. A slightly different German version will appear in NTM. Finally I thank the audience of the conference for an intensive discussion, and Ilse Jahn, Michael Hagner, Andreas Mayer, Angela Mayer-Deutsch and Wolfgang Scha¨ffner for their helpful comments.

References Ahrbeck, H. (n.d.) ‘Christian Wolffs Bedeutung fu¨r die Reform des akademischen Unterrichts’, in 450 Jahre Martin-Luther-Universita¨t Halle-Wittenberg, vol. 2: Halle 1694– 1817, Halle-Wittenberg 1817–1945 (Halle: Selbstverlag der Martin-Luther-Universita¨t), pp. 41–47. Amburger, E. (1966) Geschichte der Beho¨rdenorganisation Russlands von Peter dem Großen bis 1917, Studien zur Geschichte Osteuropas 10 (Leiden: E. J. Brill). Bacmeister, J. (1777) Versuch u¨ber die Bibliothek und das Naturalien- und Kunst-Kabinet der Kaiserlichen Akademie der Wissenschaften in St. Petersburg. (Aus dem Franzo¨sischen des Herrn Bibliothekars Johann Bacmeister) (St. Petersburg: Weitbrecht und Schoor). Becker, C. (1996) Vom Rarita¨ten-Kabinett zur Sammlung als Institution. Sammeln und Ordnen im Zeitalter der Aufkla¨rung, Deutsche Hochschulschriften 1103 (Egelsbach, Frankfurt, St. Peter Port: Ha¨nsel-Hohenhausen). Bessler, O. (1961) ‘Hallesche Botanik und Universitas litterarum’, Berichte der Deutschen Botanischen Gesellschaft 74, 6–13. Carey, D. (1997) ‘Compiling Nature’s History: Travellers and Travel Narratives in the Early Royal Society’, Annals of Science 54, 269–292. Clark, W. (1996) ‘On the Ministerial Archive of Academic Acts’, Science in Context 9, 421–486. Daston, L. J. (1988) ‘The Factual Sensibility’, Isis 79, 452–470. ‘Daniel Gottlieb Messerschmidt’, in Re´cueil des Actes de la Se´ance Publique de l’Acade´mie Impe´riale des Sciences de St. Petersbourg 1831 (St. Petersbourg 1832), pp. 101–104. (Author: J. F. Brandt; see Winter et al., 1963, p. 336). Donnert, E. (1983) ‘Russische Forschungsreisen und Expeditionen im 18. Jahrhundert’, in E. Donnert (ed.), Gesellschaft und Kultur in der 2. Ha¨lfte des 18. Jahrhunderts. Teil 2: Literatur, Wissenschaft und Bildung, Wissenschaftliche Beitra¨ge der Martin-LutherUniversita¨t Halle-Wittenberg 21, 70–98. Findlen, P. (1989) ‘The Museum: Its Classical Etymology and Renaissance Genealogy’, Journal of the History of Collections 1, 59–78. Findlen, P. (1994) Possessing Nature. Museums, Collecting, and Scientific Culture in Early Modern Italy (Berkeley, Los Angeles, London: University of California Press). Friese, H. and Wagner, P. (1993) Der Raum des Gelehrten: Eine Topographie akademischer Praxis (Berlin: Ed. Sigma). Gmelin, J. G. (1751/52) Reise durch Sibirien, 4 vols (Go¨ttingen: A. Vandenhoeck’s seel. Witwe). Grimm, G. E. (1987) ‘Vom Schulfuchs zum Menschheitslehrer. Zum Wandel des Gelehrten¨ ber tums zwischen Barock und Aufkla¨rung’, in H. E. Bo¨deker and U. Herrmann (eds), U

Boxes in Nature

401

den Prozeß der Aufkla¨rung in Deutschland im 18. Jahrhundert: Positionen, Institutionen und Medien, Vero¨ff. d. Max-Planck-Instituts fu¨r Geschichte 85 (Go¨ttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht), pp. 14–38. Grote, A. (ed.) (1994) Makrokosmos in Mikrokosmo. Die Welt in der Stube. Zur Geschichte des Sammelns 1450–1800, Berliner Schriften zur Museumskunde 10 (Opladen: Leske and Budrich). Harbsmeier, M. (1994) Wilde Vo¨lkerkunde. Andere Welten in deutschen Reiseberichten der Fru¨hen Neuzeit, Historische Studien 12 (Frankfurt a.M., New York: Campus Verlag). ¨ berlegungen zu einem Heesen, A. te (1996) ‘Das Naturalienkabinett und sein Beha¨ltnis. U Mo¨bel im 18. Jahrhundert’, in B. Ogilvie, A. te Heesen and M. Gierl (eds), Sammeln in der Fru¨hen Neuzeit, preprint des Max-Planck-Instituts fu¨r Wissenschaftsgeschichte 50 (Berlin: Selbstverlag), pp. 27–54. Heesen, A. te (1997) Der Weltkasten. Die Geschichte einer Bildenzyklopa¨die aus dem 18. Jahrhundert (Go¨ttingen: Wallstein Verlag). Hintzsche, W. and Nickol, T. (eds) (1996) Die große Nordische Expedition. Georg Wilhelm Steller (1709–1746)—ein Lutheraner erforscht Sibirien und Alaska, Exhibition Catalogue of the Franckeschen Stiftungen, Halle (Gotha: Perthes). Impey, O. and MacGregor, A. (eds) (1985) The Origins of Museums. The Cabinet of Curiosities in Sixteenth- and Seventeenth-Century Europe (Oxford: Clarendon Press). Jahn, I. (1979) ‘Die Museologie als Lehr- und Forschungsdisziplin mit spezieller Beru¨cksichtigung ihrer Funktion in naturhistorischen Museen. Geschichte, gegenwa¨rtiger Stand und theoretische Grundlagen’ (Part 1), Neue Museumskunde 3, 152–169. Jahn, I. (1989) ‘Das Ornithologicon des Arztes Daniel Gottlieb Messerschmidt: Unvero¨ffentlichte zoologische Ergebnisse seiner Forschungsreise (1720–1727)’, Leopoldina. Mitteilungen der Deutschen Akademie der Naturforscher Leopoldina (Halle/Saale) 33(1987), 103–135. Jardine, N., Secord, J. and Spary, E. (eds) (1996) Cultures of Natural History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press). Jarosch, G. (1966) ‘Tabbert-Strahlenberg als Reisegefa¨hrte Messerschmidts’, in W. Steinitz et al. (eds), Ost und West in der Geschichte des Denkens und der kulturellen Beziehungen. Festschrift fu¨r E. Winter zum 70. Geburtstag, Quellen und Studien zur Geschichte Osteuropas 15 (Berlin (Ost): Akademie-Verlag), pp. 215–220. Ketelsen, T. (1990) Ku¨nstlerviten, Inventare, Kataloge. Drei Studien zur Geschichte der kunsthistorischen Praxis (Ammersbek bei Hamburg: Verlag an der Lottbek). Kistemaker, R., Kopaneva, N. and Overbeek, A. (eds) (1996) Peter de Grote en Holland. Culturele en wetenschappelijke betrekkingen tussen Rusland en Nederland, Exhibition Catalogue of the Historische Museum, Amsterdam (Amsterdam: Bussum). Latour, B. (1990) ‘Drawing things together’, in M. Lynch and S. Woolgar (eds), Representation in Scientific Practice (Cambridge MA: MIT Press), pp. 19–68. Latour, B. (1997) ‘Der Pedologenfaden von Boa Vista. Eine photo-philosophische Montage’, in H.-J. Rheinberger, M. Hagner and B. Wahrig-Schmidt (eds), Ra¨ume des Wissens. Repra¨sentation, Codierung, Spur (Berlin: Akademie Verlag), pp. 213–263. Lettsome, J. C. (1804) Taschenbuch fu¨r Naturforscher besonders auf Reisen (Breslau: J. F. Korn dem a¨ltern). (First published in 1772). Leyh, G. (ed.) (1957) Geschichte der Bibliotheken, Second Half, Handbuch der Bibliothekswissenschaft 3 (Wiesbaden: O. Harrassowitz). Liebenwein, W. (1977) Studiolo. Die Entstehung eines Raumtyps und seine Entwicklung bis um 1600 (Berlin: Mann). Linne´, C. von (1991) Lappla¨ndische Reise und andere Schriften, ed. S. Mierau (Leipzig: Reclam-Verlag). Materialy dlja istorii Imperatorskoj Akademii Nauk (1885–1900) 10 vols (St. Petersburg: Imperatorskoj Akademii Nauk). (Vol. 1: 1885; vol. 6: 1890.) Meijers, D. (1995) Kunst als Natur. Die Habsburger Gema¨ldegalerie in Wien um 1780, Schriften des Kunsthistorischen Museums 2 (Wien, Mailand: Skira Editore). Meinel, C. (1995) ‘Enzyklopa¨die der Welt und Verzettelung des Wissens: Aporien der Empi-

402

Studies in History and Philosophy of Science

rie bei Joachim Jungius’, in F. M. Eybl et al. (eds), Enzyklopa¨dien der Fru¨hen Neuzeit. Beitra¨ge zu ihrer Erforschung (Tu¨bingen: Max Niemeyer Verlag), pp. 162–187. Mu¨ller-Bahlke, T. J. and Go¨ltz, K. E. (III.) (1998) Die Wunderkammer. Die Kunst- und Naturalienkammer der Franckeschen Stiftungen zu Halle (Saale) (Halle: Verlag der Franckeschen Stiftungen). Mu¨ller-Wille, S. (1999) Botanik und weltweiter Handel. Zur Begru¨ndung eines Natu¨rlichen Systems der Pflanzen durch Carl von Linne´ (1707–78), Studien zur Theorie der Biologie 3 (Berlin: VWB—Verlag fu¨r Wissenschaft und Bildung). Neickel, C. F. (1727) Museographia Oder Anleitung Zum rechten Begriff und nu¨tzlicher Anlegung der Museorum Oder Rarita¨ten-Kammern (Leipzig, Breßlau: M. Hubert). Neverov, O. (1985) ‘His Majesty’s Cabinet and Peter I’s Kunstkammer’, in O. Impey and A. MacGregor (eds), The Origins of Museums. The Cabinet of Curiosities in Sixteenthand Seventeenth-Century Europe (Oxford: Clarendon Press), pp. 54–61. Norris, D. M. (1939) A History of Cataloguing and Cataloguing Methods 1100–1850. With an Introductory Survey of Ancient Times (London: Grafton and Co.). Ophir, A. and Shapin, S. (1991) ‘The Place of Knowledge. A Methodological Survey’, Science in Context 4, 3–21. Outram, D. (1996) ‘New Spaces in Natural History’, in N. Jardine, J. Secord and E. Spary (eds), Cultures of Natural History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press), pp. 249– 265. Pallas, P. S. (1782) ‘Nachricht von D. Daniel Gottlieb Messerschmidts siebenja¨hriger Reise durch Sibirien’, Neue Nordische Beytra¨ge 3, 97–107. Placcius, V. (1689) De arte excerpendi. Vom Gelahrten Buchhalten (Stockholm, Hamburg: Liebezeit). Pomian, K. (1990) Collectors and Curiosities. Paris and Venice, 1500–1800 (Cambridge: Polity Press). Posselt, D. (1969) Die Erforschung der Flora Sibiriens in der ersten Ha¨lfte des 18. Jahrhunderts unter besonderer Beru¨cksichtigung der Aufzeichnungen von D. G. Messerschmidt, 3 vols (Jena: Diss. an der Friedrich-Schiller-Universita¨t Jena). Rheinberger, H.-J., Hagner, M. and Wahrig-Schmidt, B. (eds) (1997) Ra¨ume des Wissens. Repra¨sentation, Codierung, Spur (Berlin: Akademie Verlag). Rieber, A. J. (1995) ‘Politics and Technology in Eighteenth-Century Russia’, Science in Context 8, 341–368. Robel, G. (1976) ‘Die Sibirienexpeditionen und das Deutsche Rußlandbild im 18. Jahrhundert. Bemerkungen zur Rezeption von Forschungsergebnissen’, in E. Amburger, M. Cies´la and L. Sziklay (eds), Wissenschaftspolitik in Mittel- und Osteuropa, Studien zur Geschichte der Kulturbeziehungen in Mittel- und Osteuropa 3 (Berlin: Camen), pp. 271–294. Rosenfeld, G. (1954) ‘Justus Samuel Scharschmidt und seine Bedeutung fu¨r die deutsche Rußlandkunde am Anfang des 18 Jahrhunderts’, Zeitschrift fu¨r Geschichtswissenschaft 6, 866-902. Rowell, M. (1978) ‘Russian Medical Botany Before the Time of Peter the Great’, Sudhoffs Archiv 62, 339–358. Schmitz, R. (1978) Mo¨rser, Kolben und Phiolen. Aus der Welt der Pharmazie (Graz: Akademische Druck- und Verlagsanstalt). Shapin, S. (1991) ‘The House of Experiment in Seventeenth-Century England’, Science in Context 4, 373–404. Shapin, S. (1994) A Social History of Truth. Civility and Science in Seventeenth-Century England (Chicago, London: The University of Chicago Press). Shapin, S. and Schaffer, S. (1985) Leviathan and the Air Pump: Hobbes, Boyle and the Experimental Life (Princeton: Princeton University Press). Siebers, W. (1992) ‘Beobachtung und Ra¨sonnement. Typen, Beschreibungsformen und ¨ ffentlichkeitsbezug der fru¨haufkla¨rerischen Gelehrtenreise’, in H.-W. Ja¨ger (ed.), EuroO pa¨ische Reisen im Zeitalter der Aufkla¨rung, Neue Bremer Beitra¨ge 7 (Heidelberg: Winter), pp. 16-34.

Boxes in Nature

403

Sibum, H. O. (1995) ‘Reworking the Mechanical Value of Heat: Instruments of Precision and Gestures of Accuracy in Early Victorian England’, Studies in History and Philosophy of Science 26(1), 73–106. Stagl, J. (1983) ‘Das Reisen als Kunst und Wissenschaft (16.–18. Jahrhundert)’, Zeitschrift fu¨r Ethnologie 108, 15–34. Stearn, W. (1958) ‘Botanical Exploration to the time of Linnaeus’, Proceedings of the Linnean Society 169, 173–196. Sto¨kl, G. (1990) Russische Geschichte (Stuttgart: Kro¨nert). Storz, J. (1962) ‘Das Naturalien- und Kunstkabinett der Franckeschen Stiftungen zu Halle an der Saale’, Wissenschaftliche Zeitschrift der Martin-Luther-Universita¨t Halle-Wittenberg XI, 193–200. von Strahlenberg, J. P. Tabbert (1738) An Historico-Geographical Description of the North and Eastern Parts of Europe and Asia but more particularly of Russia, Siberia, and great Tartary (London: J. Brotherton et al). Ueding, G. (1985) ‘Beredsamkeit aus Erfahrung—Georg Christoph Lichtenbergs Sudelbu¨cher’, Photorin 9, 1–18. Valentini, M. B. (1704) Museum Museorum, oder vollsta¨ndige Schau-Bu¨hne aller Materialien und Specereyen nebst deren natu¨rlichen Beschreibung, Election, Nutzen und Gebrauch, vol. 1 (Frankfurt: J. D. Zunner). ¨ ber einige Karten Rußlands in J. B. Homanns Atlas vom Jahre 1725’, Warep, E. (1963) ‘U Petermanns Geographische Mitteilungen 107, 308–311. Winter, E. (1953) Halle als Ausgangspunkt der deutschen Russlandkunde im 18. Jahrhundert, Vero¨ffentlichungen des Instituts fu¨r Slawistik 2 (Berlin: Akademie Verlag). Winter, E., Figurovskij, N. A., Uschmann, G. and Jarosch, G. (eds) (1962–1977) D. G. Messerschmidts Forschungsreise durch Sibirien 1720–1727, 5 vols, Quellen und Studien zur Geschichte Osteuropas 8 (Berlin: Akademie-Verlag). Winter, E., Jarosch, G. and Uschmann, G. (1963) ‘D. G. Messerschmidt als Erforscher Sibiriens. Zur Herausgabe seiner Tagebuchaufzeichnungen’, Forschungen und Fortschritte 37, 334–337. Wolff, L. (1994) Inventing Eastern Europe. The Map of Civilization on the Mind of the Enlightenment (Stanford: Stanford University Press). Zedelmaier, H. (1992) Bibliotheca universalis und Biblioteheca selecta. Das Problem der Ordnung des Wissens in der fru¨hen Neuzeit (Ko¨ln, Weimar, Wien: Bo¨hlau). Zedler, J. H. (ed.) (1732–54) Grosses vollsta¨ndiges Universal-Lexicon aller Wissenschaften und Ku¨nste, welche bishero durch menschlichen Verstand und Witz erfunden und verbessert worden, 64 vols (Halle, Leipzig: Zedler).