Aged hands clasped the black leather-bound book as a thin-framed man walked along the bustling streets of downtown Peoria. His destination was the great archives at the Public Library. His mission was to preserve over 40 years of memories for future generations to discover. The tome contained the records of an organization that was dedicated to the discovery and understanding of nature and the role of the human species in the big picture. It contained transcripts of great speeches, debates and discussions. The year was 1921, and the elderly man was Harry Bestor, the last secretary of the Penstemon Cosmopolitan Society.

Born on the heels of the transcendental movement, a quartet of central Illinois residents comprised of Dr. James T. Stewart, Dr. J.L. Lucas, Otto Triebel and John Eiser met one Sunday afternoon at the residence of Dr Lucas. The year was 1870, and the time was ripe for a cultural ritual to develop. The four talked the day away, until the evening sun fell strikingly upon the open bloom of white penstemon flowers that graced the hillside below Dr. Lucas’s house. The four decided that the arena of nature’s wonders provided the best stage to discuss the matters of the world

. . . scientific discoveries, social issues, literature, and politics. Henceforth, the four developed a pact to gather when the penstemon came into bloom and to invite others to join them.

Such was the birth of what would become the annual retreat of the Penstemon Cosmopolitan Society. In a 1921 Peoria Star article by Chas. Lambert was written, “It met each year in the woods and attracted some of the most brilliant minds in the section of the state, bringing forward oratory of a superior class and debates in which keen logical wit and wisdom had many an intellectual joust.”

One of the founders, Dr. Stewart, was quite well known for his botanical knowledge. One should remember that in its infancy, the medical field was strongly tied to herb lore. Much of the medicine of the time was derived from tinctures and tonics of herbs growing in the wild. This is in part due to the doctors of the time and their training. Dr. Stewart started life in the frontier of Southern Illinois in 1824. The Stewart farm was 6 miles north of Greenville in Bond County. Some of Dr Stewart’s earliest recollections consisted of images of his father shooting a wolf from the back door of their cabin. The family also regularly visited with local camps of Native Americans, where they would share food and knowledge on surviving the harsh conditions of life in the wilderness. Among the knowledge he imparted from these visits was herb-lore.

Towards the close of his life, the study of botany claimed nearly all of his attention. In the late 1870’s Dr. Stewart joined up with another noted botanist and physician, Dr. Frederick Brendel. Together they took the local scientific community by storm. They both sat at prominent seats at the annual gatherings of the Penstemon Cosmopolitan Society. Hundreds of people would gather at these events to learn from these prominent botanists. Brendel would later publish “Flora Peoriana — The Vegetation in the Climate of Middle Illinois” in 1887. Stewart and Brendel became key players in the formation of the Peoria Scientific Association in 1885. Within 10 years The Peoria Scientific Association published 167 scientific papers, had a museum that contained over 10,000 specimens, and a library of over 150 volumes. In its tenth year, 7,700 visitors had visited the Association and inspected the collection.

By the turn of the century, time was taking its toll on the original founders. On a Sunday afternoon, Dr. Stewart was ambling along with friends in the wilds of Springdale Cemetery, which was revered by botanists as a refuge for rare species. He was seen with a small green, jointed reed in either hand. He was pulling the sections out of their sockets and slowly refitting them. Chas. Lambert wrote in the 1921 Peoria Star, “It was as if he were a child again and had found a new plaything affording him momentary amusement, and as we intruded upon his pleasure and gained his recognition his studious face took on a new and gratified expression as he slowly said:

“This is indigenous, but comparatively rare in this section of Illinois. It is Equisetum hyemale, as botanically known, and the horsetail of scouring rush in the vernacular. See how one can readily pull its sections apart and put them back again, like the joints in a fishing rod. Observe the silica on its fluted exterior. That is what gives it its scouring properties. It is of small therapeutic value, but it is a pretty thing to look at.”

And at that he walked away in deep thought, still pulling the sections of the slender and fragile reed apart and putting them in place again. The Penstemon, his favorite flower, bloomed again in May of 1901, but he saw it not. His eyes were forever closed the month before.

After his death, Stewart’s Penstemon Cosmopolitan Society continued to meet in Osterly’s Grove on the heights overlooking Farmington Road, mainly through the efforts of E. F. Baldwin. The Grove was then developed as the site of the Guardian Angel orphanage. The penstemons and their namesake society were gone. Then came the First World War, and the Penstemon Cosmopolitan Society met for its last time in May of 1917 in Reservoir Park.

The old apostles were gone. The penstemon became another rare wildflower that vanished from the commonplace of the countryside. The world became a smaller place and folks became occupied with other activities. The art of open debate and scientific exploration became relegated to the university. The turning over of the records to the public library marked the final scene in this delightful sylvan drama. Unless those of us who cherish the same vision and values of the original four founders of the Penstemon Cosmopolitan Society revive an active interest in local scientific exploration, the scroll will remain forever rolled.