THE GILDED DINOSAUR

Philadelphia Inquirer reporter Jaffe (And No Birds Sing, 1994) unearths the historical record as assiduously as his heroes/villains unearthed fossils a century ago in this account of the celebrated feud between Philadelphia's E.D. Cope and New Haven’s O.C. Marsh.

A twice-told tale, yes, but Jaffe adds the color of politics to the telling, all the while providing rich details about his antagonists. Cope was the handsome, well-born son who disdained taking over the family farm and eventually inherited a fortune he plowed into paleontology. Marsh, trained as a geologist, became the first professor of paleontology in America. Cope was gregarious, a ladies' man, quick to make often brilliant judgments, a prodigious worker. Marsh was a tight-fisted bachelor, almost paranoid in guarding his collection, armored against intimacy, yet enjoying the emoluments of fame—club memberships, the Presidency of the National Academy of Sciences, building the Peabody Museum (and his own stately mansion) in New Haven. The story of their rivalry, early expeditions, and dozens of field workers (who sometimes switched loyalties) is chronicled in the tons of rocks shipped back east that would reveal scores of fossil species of birds, fishes, and mammals, as well as the more sensational dinosaurs. (A few maps and a glossary would have helped.) Jaffe makes clear how the opening of the west, lucrative railroad contracts, and corrupt politicians affected the progress of science, and how it all almost came a cropper when a Luddite congressman saw no reason why government should support science, and sensational Cope-inspired articles vilifying Marsh et al. appeared in the New York Herald. Fortunately, science and both men survived, leaving major legacies for scholars, as well as bringing joy to hordes of visitor to America's great museums.

Jaffe's account underscores how much of science is personal, and how tightly it is enmeshed in society, politics and purse strings.