The Roots, They Shall Wither

Meeting last week at the Boston Harvard Club, the Association for the Arnold Arboretum passed the following resolution regarding the University's role in the Arboretum controversy: "It is a matter of principle to seek relief from this denial of justice."

"See how yon justice rails upon yon simple thief," Lear says to Gloucester. ". . . Change places; and handy-dandy, which is the justice, which the thief." Many observers connected with Harvard have long looked upon the Arnold Arboretum controversy with similar bemusement and unconcern. To them, the problem of housing the Arboretum's botanical library and specimens has been a thorn in the University's side through ten years of huff and puff. But for those people actually touched by the controversy, the solution of the Arboretum dispute is a matter of principle and commonsense.

When in 1945 Professor Irving W. Bailey '07 submitted to the Corporation his plan to reorganize the Department of Botany, there was little opposition expressed among the staff of the famous Jamaica Plain botanical garden. Among the many changes recommended by the plan, the most significant was a suggestion to combine the University's botanical libraries and herbaria, then housed in nine buildings. In their place the plan proposed "a single unit in as close proximity to the Biological Laboratories as possible," leaving only a working; library and herbarium at the Arborctum. Research in Jamaica Plain, it was felt, was then hindered by crowding and fire-hazard conditions. The details of unification, however, were not spelled out in Bailey's report. "What we are primarily concerned with is the health and vigor of Botany itself and what Harvard with its particular set of resources can contribute best toward this central aim,"Paul H. Buck, then Dean of the Faculty of Arts and Sciences, said in his foreward to the plan. In January, 1946, with the endorsement of the Arboretum staff, the Corporation agreed that the Bailey Plan would further these ends.

But following the adoption of the plan, a group of faculty and alumni, led by the late Professor Oakes Ames '98, formerly a director of the Arborcetum, began to question the wisdom of separating the Arborctum's books and specimens from its living shrubs. By removing half of the institution's facilities, they claimed, Harvard would be serving its own purposes while turning the world-renowned botanical center into a park. Further, the Ames group attacked the legality of the Corporation's actions. Harvard does not own the Arborctum, they stated, but has held it since 1872 as public trustee for the people of Boston under the will of James Arnold. But the Corporation proceeded with its plans to construct the new Gray Herbarium, appropriating a million dollars from general operating funds for its construction. The building was completed in February, 1954. By July of the same year, the Department of Botany had transferred over 48,000 books and 600,000 specimens from the Arboretum to the new fireproof herbarium.

Meanwhile, opponents of the consolidation had not been silent. In 1949 Professor Ames protested to the Overseers' Committee, which referred his objections to a special Faculty Committee. When this Faculty group reaffirmed the provisions of the Bailey Plan, 14 members of the Visiting Committee accused the University of disregarding the Arboretum's interests and planning to break faith with its donors. Independently, they hired counsel to give an opinion as to whether a legal breach of trust was involved. In September, 1950, John Wells Farley '99, the lawyer for the group, found that transferring the books and specimens to Cambridge would constitute a breach of the University's public trust.

The Corporation's own lawyers, however, had counseled that the provisions of the plan were within the terms of the original gift endowing the Arboretum, as long as the library and herbarium could be more effectively used in Cambridge. As guardian of a public trust, therefore, the Corporation saw no reason for seeking instructions from the state courts concerning the legality of their actions. Meeting on January 19, 1953, the corporation rescinded parts of the Bailey Plan, but decided to go forward with the construction of the Gray Herbarium.

"The main question," according to Dean Bundy, "is whether the plan . . . is or is not in the best interests of the Arnold Arboretum. The President and Fellows of Harvard College and the Arnold Professor (Richard A. Howard) are firmly of the opinion that it is; some old and good friends of the Arboretum are strongly persuaded that it is not."

Following the Corporation's decision not to seek instruction from the courts, members of the Visiting Committee led by John S. Ames '01 approached the Massachusetts Attorney General for permission to use his name in a judicial proceeding to determine the legality of the Corporation's plan. In July, 1953, however, their petition was turned down by Assistant Attorney General Harris J. Booras on the grounds that "there is not the remotest evidence that Harvard has reached its decision in any manner other than honesty, faithfully, and for what it considers to be the best interests of the Arboretum." Then, in the case Ames et al v. Attorney General, filed in the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court, the petitioners sought a writ of mandamus to force the Attorney General to use his name in a test suit. On February 11, 1955, the court ruled that it lacked jurisdiction to force the Attorney General to act in such a case.

Opponents of Harvard's plan, organized since late 1953 as "The Association for the Arnold Arboretum," claimed that their appeal had been dismissed on technical grounds and not on the merits of their side. "Seeking to vindicate Harvard's reputation as a scrupulous guardian of trust funds," the Association maintains that its aim is to "restore and develop a leading institution in the horticultural field." With more than 1000 members, including several distinguished alumni, the Association has established a Boston office from which it launches expensive legal maneuvers and a steady, but subdued, pamphlet campaign. Part garden-club sentimentality and part sensible concern for the future of Botany at Harvard, the Association continues its fight to force a judicial hearing on the legality of the Corporation's action.

Presumably, this day of judgement will not arrive until the Corporation changes its policy and voluntarily goes to court, jeopardizing its million-dollar investment. But now the yellow leaf has fallen into the sere, and the Gray Herbarium is a fait accompli.