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SCIENTIA
VERITAS
OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
E-PLURIBUS UNUM
SI QUAERIS PENINSULAM AMOENAM
CIRCUMSPICE
་་་་
FRANK BUCKLAND
ан
31
B9
37
1885

Frank Buckland
Engraved by Joseph Brown from a Photograph
London. Published by Smith Elder &C: 15, Waterloo Place.
LIFE
OF

FRANK BUCKLAND
BY HIS BROTHER-IN-LAW
GEORGE C. BOMPAS
With a Portrait
SIXTH EDITION
LONDON
SMITH, ELDER, & CO., 15 WATERLOO PLACE
1885
[All rights reserved]
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
CHILDHOOD: 1826-1839.
Birth-Parentage-First cabinet-First diary-Duke of Welling-
ton's installation-Education at Cotterstock and Laleham-
Queen's coronation-Billy, the hyena - The Christ Church
home
PAGE
1
CHAPTER II.
WINCHESTER: 1839-1844.
Journey to Winchester-Manners and customs of the College—
'Launching ''To fit ti'-Tin gloves-Præfects and fags-
'Clows'-Free translations-Hills Mouse-digging-Water-
man — Rat-hunting-Moab '-Jackdaws-' Tunding'-
Jackdaws—‘Tunding '— Remi-
niscences-Mr. Frederick Gale-Mr. T. W. Erle-Dr. Merriman
-Rev. W. Tuckwell - Rev. E. Fox-Rev. J. A. Gould-
Winchester Hospital-First operation-Bishop Moberly's letters 10
CHAPTER III.
CHRIST CHURCH: 1844-1848.
Menagerie in Fell's Buildings-Dean Conybeare's letter-Reminis-
cences-Mr. Herbert Fisher-Dr. Liddon-Rev. R. St. John
Tyrwhitt Dr. Merriman-Mr. Walter Stanhope - Tiglath
Pileser-Jacko-Giessen-Letters home-Tree-frogs-Return
to Giessen-Earthquake-Red slugs-B.A. degree-Private
Journal
•
38
vi
CONTENTS
CHAPTER IV.
ST. GEORGE'S: 1848-1853.
Hospital patients-Extracts from Journal-Society at Deanery-
Menagerie-Chloroform-Unusual delicacies-Paris-Hospital
Journal - Pendulum experiment First
study-Souvenirs
C
article on Rats'-Cobra-poison-First lecture, The House we
Live in '
PAGE
62
CHAPTER V.
THE LIFE GUARDS: 1854-1858.
Gazetted assistant-surgeon-Athenæum Club- Dean Gaisford's
funeral-The 'Field '--Dean Buckland's death-Sale of his col-
lections-Curiosities of Natural History,' first series-Journal
extracts-Lecture at South Kensington Museum on Horn, Hair,
and Bristles-Visit to Paris Literary work - Bridgewater
treatise-Professor Owen's letter-Lectures
CHAPTER VI.
THE LIFE GUARDS: 1859-1862.
John Hunter-Search at St. Martin's Church-Journal-Acclimati-
sation Society-Eland dinner-' Curiosities of Natural History,'
second series-Scotland-First salmon-Society of Arts-Fish
hatching commenced-Oxford and Windsor lectures-Vipers
-Acclimatisation dinner-Giants and dwarfs.
CHAPTER VII.
FISH CULTURE: 1863-1865.
-Journal
Commission in Life Guards resigned-Collection of fish ova-—
-Fish-hatching at dog show-Lecture at Royal Institution—
Book on fish culture-Marriage-Home in Albany Street—
New Zealanders-‘Laughing jackass'-Porpoises-Thackeray's
elegy on the Porpoise-Visit to acclimatised animals-Visit
to Paris-Trout and salmon for Australia-Galway salmon and
salmon ladder-Visit to Bishop Wilberforce at Lavington-
83
96
CONTENTS
vii
Commencement of fish-casting-Oyster culture-Silurus-
Fish culture at Windsor-Appointed Scientific Referee to South
Kensington Museum-Commencement of Museum of fish and
oyster culture
PAGE
•
123
CHAPTER VIII.
LAND AND WATER': 1866.
Birth of Land and Water '-Salmon and church bells-Fatted
snails-Fossil oysters-A fortnight's work-Collecting salmon
ova at Brecon-The Yorkshire gamekeeper and the pike-
Lectures at Leeds, Halifax, and Bradford-Visit to a fishing
weir-Fish exhibitions at Arcachon and Boulogne-British
Association-Private Journal
•
155
CHAPTER IX.
INSPECTOR OF FISHERIES: 1867.
Royal Commission on English Salmon Fisheries-Act of 1861-
Appointment of Inspectors-Frank Buckland appointed In-
spector of Fisheries-First official inspection of River Exe-
Salmon migrations-First report-Salmon ladders-The Can-
terbury Stour-How to deal with mill weirs-Inspector's
meeting at Maryport-The River Ellen-Increase in sale of
salmon-Museum-The big sturgeon-Casting the whale-
Cormorant fishing-Hedgehogs-A fortnight's fish inspection
-Salmon and bull-trout jumping weirs
•
CHAPTER X.
ABOUT FISH, BEASTS, AND BIRDS: 1868-1869.
Salmon and trout ova for New Zealand, Tasmania, and Australia
-Horse dinner-Whelks-Bison steak-Scorpion-Dolphin
at Herne Bay-Large Tunny-Sword-fish-Private Journal-
Havre Exhibition-Presentations from Victoria and Otago-
Great Lake trout at Windsor-Scotch Fishery Act-Preserva-
tion of sea-birds-Netting the Serpentine-Sight, smell, and
hearing of deer-Domestic pets-Arslan .
180
212
•
viii
CONTENTS
CHAPTER XI.
SCOTCH FISHERIES, AND CORRESPONDENCE: 1870-1872.
Report on Scotch salmon fisheries-Impressions of Scotland-
Thames salmon-Mole in Windsor Park-Wax-work show-
Nigger, the spider-monkey-Unseasonable fish-Bull-trout in
the Coquet-Fecundity of fish-Miss Swan the giantess-The
Two-headed Nightingale '—Captain Bates the giant-A plea
for Newcastle pigs-The Cat Show-Canterbury Museum-
Crystal Palace Aquarium-Salmon at Brighton Aquarium-
Royal Academy without a catalogue-Puss, the blind man's
dog
PAGE
237
CHAPTER XII.
THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS AND SEAL FISHERIES:
1873-1874.
Duties of an inspector-Act of 1873-Eels and elvers-Fish babies
-Guy Fawkes, the young hippopotamus-Obash, the old hippo
-Winter at the Gardens- History of British Fishes '-Sea
monsters-Protection for seals-Scale armour-Ross Church
bells-Lectures-The old rhinoceros-Social experiences.
CHAPTER XIII.
SPECIAL INQUIRIES, NORFOLK BROADS: CRABS, LOBSTERS,
AND OYSTERS, HERRING FISHERIES, &C.: 1875-1877.
Report on Norfolk fisheries-Cromer crabs- Natural History of
Crabs and Lobsters '-Report on oyster culture -Dynamite re-
port-Scotch herring fisheries-Garvie fishery-Customs on the
Eden-Log-book of a Fisherman and Zoologist'—White's
'Natural History of Selborne '-Frogs at Windsor-The Queen's
visit to the Museum-Home pets: the Hag, Jemmy the suri-
cate-Venus's slippers-Golden beetle-Flies and blue-bottles
—'London from the 'bus-top'-Outside the Cattle Show.
274
306
CONTENTS
ix
CHAPTER XIV.
SEA FISHERIES, BIRD MIGRATIONS, ETC.: 1878.
Report on sea fisheries-Migrations of birds in March, April,
September, October, December-Design in formation of birds'
eggs-Strange occupations-Party in Albany Street-Frank
Buckland at home
PAGE
•
342
CHAPTER XV.
CONCLUSION: 1879-1880.
Salmon egg-collecting for the last time-Packing eggs in ice—
Beginning of illness-Fishermen's prizes-Salmon disease-
Friendly Zulus-Mr. Spencer Walpole's notes on Frank Buck-
land's characteristics-Christmas at the Zoo-The Red River pig
-Bear cub and bears-Dentistry operations-Last Fishery
Report-Berlin Fishery Exhibition-Notes on Margate-Lions
and tigers-Shrimps-The large orang-outan-Centenary of
whitebait-Continued literary work-Last illness and death—
Bequest of Museum to the nation-Recollections of Frank
Buckland by Mr. Archibald Young and Mr. George Rooper
•
368
LIFE
OF
FRANK BUCKLAND.
CHAPTER I.
CHILDHOOD, 1826-1839.
FRANCIS TREVELYAN BUCKLAND-Frank Buckland, as he
was generally called-was the eldest son of the Very Rev.
William Buckland, D.D., Dean of Westminster, and was
born on December 17, 1826, at Christ Church, Oxford, of
which Cathedral his father was at that time Canon.
'I am told,' he afterwards wrote, 'that soon after my
birth, my father and my godfather, the late Sir Francis
Chantrey, weighed me in the kitchen scales against a leg
of mutton, and that I was heavier than the joint provided
for the family dinner that day. In honour of my arrival
my father and Sir Francis then went into the garden and
planted a birch tree. I know the taste of the twigs of that
birch tree well. Sir Francis Chantrey offered to give me a
library. "What is the use of a library to a child an hour
old?" said my father. "He will live to be sorry for that
answer," said Sir Francis. I never got the library.
'One of my earliest offences in life was eating the end
B
2
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
of a carriage candle. For this, the birch rod not being
handy, my father put me into a furze-bush, and therein
I did penance for ten minutes. A furze-bush does not
make a pleasant lounge when only very thin summer gar-
ments are worn.'
The birch tree has long since been cut down, though
even modern education still has its thorns.
At his christening in Christ Church Cathedral, on June
28, 1827, Sir Francis Chantrey and Sir John Trevelyan
stood sponsors, with his aunt Mrs. John Buckland, a sister
of Dr. Arnold of Rugby.
Frank Buckland's early years are described in his
mother's journal, reflecting in miniature his character in
maturer life. Through life he pursued visible facts, not
abstract ideas. For facts, especially of natural history, he
had from childhood a most tenacious memory. At four
years of age he began collecting specimens of natural
history, and at seven he commenced his journal.
Most men of mark have had, it is said, remarkable
mothers.
His mother, the eldest daughter of Benjamin Morland,
of Abingdon, Berks, was a woman of rare intellectual
accomplishment, whose scientific tastes and power of ac-
curate drawing enabled her to share in and help forward
Dean Buckland's geological pursuits.
At two and a half years of age,' his mother wrote,
he never forgets either pictures or people he has seen;
four months ago, as well as now, he would have gone
through all the natural history books in the Radcliffe
Library, without making one error in miscalling a parrot,
a duck, a kingfisher, an owl or a vulture.'
CHILDHOOD
3
'
When at this age he was taken to see the camelopard
and kangaroos in Windsor Park, he ran about with the
latter and the other live animals without the least fear,
though he got thrown down by them. He is a robust,
sturdy child, sharp as a needle, but so volatile that I foresee
some trouble in making him fix his attention.'
September 1829.-'I can get him to learn nothing by
rote, he will not give himself the trouble to do so; his mind
is always at work on what he sees, and he is very impatient
of doing that which is not manifest to his senses. It was in
vain to attempt teaching him ba, be, bi; I was obliged to
begin with little words. I think he would never learn what
he cannot understand.'
June 26, 1830.—' He certainly is not at all premature ;
his great excellence is in his disposition, and apparently
very strong reasoning powers, and a most tenacious me-
mory as to facts. He is always asking questions, and never
forgets the answers he receives, if they are such as he can
comprehend. If there is anything he cannot understand, or
any word, he won't go on till it has been explained to him.
He is always wanting to see everything made, or to know how
it is done; there is no end to his questions, and he is never
happy unless he sees the relations between cause and effect."
In December 1830 his mother gave him a small cabinet,
which now bears this inscription: This is the first cabinet
I ever had; my mother gave it to me when about four years
old, December 1830. It is the nucleus of all my natural
history work. Please take care of the poor old thing.'
(
C
About this time a clergyman travelled from Devonshire
to Oxford, to bring Dr. Buckland some very curious.
fossils.' When he produced his treasures Dr. Buckland
B 2
4
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
called his son, who was playing in the room, ‘Frankie,
(
what are these?' They are the vertebræ of an ichthyo-
saurus,' lisped the child, who could not yet speak plain.
The dumbfounded clergyman returned home crestfallen.
'He reads a
December 17, 1831.—His fifth birthday.
great deal to himself such easy books as he can perfectly
understand, and he has a happy knack of making himself
acquainted with the contents of a book by merely turning
over the pages; it seems as if he never forgot anything.'
'I well recollect,' he afterwards wrote, 'the Duke of
Wellington being installed Chancellor of the University
in 1834. I was then seven and a half years old. This
event is the very first subject on which I made notes
and began a diary. I have this diary now. The letters
forming the words are "pothooks and hangers." My
mother probably guided my hand in writing. The fol-
lowing is a copy of my first diary:—
"On Monday, June 8, 1834, the Duke of Wellington
came to Oxford, and we saw him come into the quadrangle
to visit the Duke of Cumberland. He is a very fine old
man. The Duke of Cumberland has white moustaches and
white whiskers; he was at Mr. Jelf's.
"On Tuesday we went to Dr. Macbride's to see the
Duke of Wellington. We saw the bishops in the proces-
sion very plainly, because there were not so many people
as when the Duke of Wellington went by. We could only
see the feather in the Duke of Cumberland's cap.
"On Wednesday we went to the Divinity School,
where we saw all the great people, and then into the
theatre, and a gentleman lifted us up to see the Duke
shake bands with the gentlemen after he had made them
CHILDHOOD
5
Doctors. The Duke dined in our hall, and we stood on the
staircase to see the procession come up. We went into the
kitchen and saw a great many joints, &c., cooking for the
dinner. Some noblemen and great people came to coffee
at our house.
"On Thursday we went to see all the great people go
to church.
"On Friday we went into the Divinity Schools, and
saw the procession again.
""On Saturday the Duke's beautiful carriage came into
the quadrangle, and the Duke got out to call upon the Dean.
One of the choristers asked if the harness was of gold. The
coachman had a wig and cocked hat."
'A live turtle was sent down from London, to be dressed
for the banquet in Christ Church Hall. My father tied a
long rope round the turtle's fin, and let him have a swim in
66
Mercury," the ornamental water in the middle of the
Christ Church" Quad," while I held the string. I recollect,
too, that my father made me stand on the back of the turtle
while he held me on (I was then a little fellow), and I had
a ride for a few yards as it swam round and round the
pond. As a treat I was allowed to assist the cook to cut
off the turtle's head in the college kitchen. The head, after
it was separated, nipped the finger of one of the kitchen
boys who was opening the beast's mouth. This same head
is now in my museum. This grand ancient kitchen is
England, and was erected by
the finest and largest in
Cardinal Wolsey in 1528.
It was the first part of the
college which was finished. In it is a curious gridiron,
running on four wheels: this was used for cooking whole
joints prior to the introduction of spits.
6
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
'When the Duke of Wellington was installed as chan-
cellor, he had to put the usual questions in Latin, when a
name was proposed in solemn convocation for an hono-
rary degree. The formula is as follows:-" Placetne vobis,
Doctores. Placetne vobis, Magistri." He said, "Placetne
vobis, Doctores; placetne vobis, Magistri." Shortly after-
wards he had to read some Latin in which King James's
name occurred.
Pulling up short at the word, he turned
to the Vice-Chancellor: "Mr. Vice-Chancellor, which is
it-Jacobus or Jacobus-Jacobus or Jacobus?" At last
he went at it with a plunge-" Rex noster Jacobus primus."
The shouts of the undergraduates were never louder or
more merry.'
t
In the same year Frank was taken by his mother to
Malvern. The children,' she wrote, ' are delighted with the
donkeys and the hills, and scramble and slide to the terror
of all the passengers. We went to Worcester Cathedral, a
most beautiful building within. The only thing that caught
Frank's attention was a ghastly figure of a lady who was
starved to death, not being able to swallow from a disease
in her throat, and one of the Nuneham Harcourts, a Knight
Templar, in perfect preservation. We went to see the
skeleton of a whale at Cheltenham. There was a tongue
bone, the contrivance of which delighted Frank; it was to
prevent the water going down the animal's throat, and to
help him eject it.'
In 1835, Frank first visited London, the journey each
way being accomplished in two days. The Surrey Zoological
Gardens, the British Museum, and the Colosseum are
described in his journal.
In August 1835 he was sent to school at Cotterstock,
CHILDHOOD
7
in Northamptonshire, and in 1837 was placed for two
years at Laleham School, near Chertsey, with his uncle,
the Rev. John Buckland.
In 1838 his journal describes the Queen's coronation
procession. June 28: We got up early, and went
to Richmond Terrace, to a stand belonging to Lady
Selkirk, and saw the coronation procession. There were
a mile and a half of carriages, and twelve state coaches
with six horses, and great fat coachmen sitting on the
boxes like great toads. There were ambassadors extra-
ordinary from every country in Europe. Marshal Soult,
the French ambassador, was most applauded of all, though
he had fought against the English: he had a cap all over
jewels. All the state carriages were ornamented with
silver; some of them had silver cornices and crowns on
the tops. The Turkish ambassador's servants had great
moustaches, and red caps with crescents and stars made of
gold. When the Queen was crowned, a signal was given
from the top of the Abbey to the artillery in St. James's
Park, who fired off forty-two guns, which made a great
noise. When the Queen came back she wore her crown,
with the sceptre in one hand and the orb in the other.
In the evening we went to see the fireworks.'
The next day they went to the Surrey Zoological Gar-
dens, where Billy, the hyena, made a noise just like a
baby crying.' This hyena had been sent to Dr. Buckland
by Burchell, the African traveller, that his skull might be
compared with those of the old dwellers in the Kirkdale
Bone Cave; but his life was spared to illustrate the life of
those primeval creatures, by gnawing and cracking marrow
bones as they once did. For twenty-four years he lived
сс
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
in these gardens, and then his skeleton was added to the
museum of the College of Surgeons, and his stuffed skin
was sent to the Deanery, Westminster.
It is not, indeed, surprising that Frank Buckland's
love of nature should grow with his growth, being inherited
from both parents, and encouraged by every association
of his youth. In his early home at Christ Church,
besides the stuffed creatures which shared the hall with
the rocking-horse, there were cages full of snakes, and of
green frogs, in the dining-room, where the sideboard
groaned under successive layers of fossils, and the
candles stood on ichthyosauri's vertebræ. Guinea-pigs
were often running over the table; and occasionally the
pony, having trotted down the steps from the garden,
would push open the dining-room door, and career round
the table, with three laughing children on his back, and
then, marching through the front door, and down the
steps, would continue his course round Tom Quad.
In the stable yard and large wood-house were the fox,
rabbits, guinea-pigs and ferrets, hawks and owls, the
magpie and jackdaw, besides dogs, cats, and poultry,
and in the garden was the tortoise (on whose back the
children would stand to try its strength), and toads
immured in various pots, to test the truth of their sup-
posed life in rock-cells.
There were visits also to the Clarendon, where Dr.
Buckland was forming the nucleus of the present Geolo-
gical Museum of Oxford, and to the Ashmolean Museum,
then under the wise and genial care of the brothers,
John and Philip Duncan, where the children might ride
CHILDHOOD
9
the stuffed zebra, and knew all the animals as friends, if
not yet as relations.
In summer afternoons, after the early three o'clock
dinner, Dr. Buckland would drive out Mrs. Buckland and
their children, in a carriage known as the bird's-nest, to
Bagley Wood, to hunt for moles and nests, or to Port
Meadow to gather yellow iris and water-lilies, and fish for
minnows, and often to set free a bright-hued kingfisher
(they were plentiful in those days) which he had redeemed
from some mischievous urchin with a sixpence. Or another
day to Shotover, to dig in the quarries for oysters and
gryphites; or again to Iffley, to gather snake's-heads (Fritil-
laria). Both father and mother were devotedly fond of
flowers, and their horse stopped automatically at every
nursery garden, as at every quarry.
Some of the graver Dons were perhaps a little scandal-
ised by such vagrant proceedings, but how much happiness
and wisdom were gathered in these excursions!
Dr. Buckland's discoveries in geology were indeed but
slowly appreciated, and were regarded with suspicion by
many. Frank Buckland used long afterwards to tell of an
incredulous Don, who could not bring his mind to believe
in the scientific facts which Dr. Buckland was just then
bringing to light, and who boldly asserted that a mam-
moth tooth dug up in St. Giles's parish, just opposite to
St. John's College, was nothing more nor less than the
tooth of an elephant which had died in Wombwell's
menagerie at some unknown antecedent period!
10
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
CHAPTER II.
WINCHESTER, 1839-1844.
IN July 1839, Frank Buckland, then twelve years old,
was elected scholar of Winchester College, Dr. Moberly,
the present Bishop of Salisbury, being head master.
His life at Winchester is best described in his own
words:-
'It is now thirty-three years ago,' he wrote in 1873 in
the Temple Bar Magazine,' 'since, a frightened and trem-
bling lad, in the month of August 1839, I found myself
standing underneath the gateway of William of Wykeham's
noble college at Winchester, duly entered as a scholar
thereof by the nomination of Dr. Shuttleworth, then War-
den of New College, Oxford, afterwards Bishop of Chiches-
ter. In those days there was no railway to Winchester,
and I went from Oxford to Winchester in a four-horse
coach, the driver of which wore most wonderful top-boots
and a marvellous coat with gigantic buttons. I had great
respect for this coachman, as he once brought my father
a semi-dead crocodile, in the coach boot, from South-
ampton. My father turned the dead crocodile into the
pond in the middle of the quadrangle at Christ Church, to
revive him; but he refused to be revived, so I rode about
upon him, Waterton fashion, and somehow I always
WINCHESTER
11
associated the Southampton coachman with a crocodile.
I recollect perfectly well that he once told me he had
driven my mother to school to Southampton, and this
made me think him very old. Soon after we had driven
over Folly Bridge on our road to Winchester, crossing the
Thames at Oxford, and were ascending the Bagley Wood
Hill on the Abingdon Road, the rest of the passengers
began to complain about a nasty unpleasant smell, which
apparently proceeded from the luggage on the top of
the coach. A bluebottle fly first appeared from out of
Bagley Wood, then another, until a perfect swarm of flies
soon followed the coach, hovering and buzzing over the
luggage. The passengers were mostly Oxford boys, going
to Winchester, and there was a strong idea among them
that somehow or other I knew from whence this odour
proceeded. I knew perfectly well the cause of the smell,
but I said nothing. The "governor," then Canon of
Christ Church, had kept a haunch of venison for me to
take as a present to the head master, Dr. Moberly; he had
kept it so long hanging up in the larder at Christ Church
that it had become very "exalted" indeed; nevertheless he
packed it up, thinking to make it last anyhow as far as
Winchester. His experiment failed, and the other boys
punched my head on the top of the coach, and were
very near throwing me and my venison overboard alto-
gether.
The "
'We Oxford lads arriving at Winchester, all went down
to the college together, and put on our gowns for the first
time. Our gowns were made of cloth, the like of which I
never since beheld, and our hats were taken away, as no
Winchester boys, except præfects, wear hats. It is rare to
12
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
find a Winchester man now with a bald head, and even
now I never wear a hat if I can possibly help it.
'Immediately after chapel the old stager boys all came
round the new arrivals to examine and criticise them. I
perfectly recollect one boy, H, to whose special care
my poor confiding mother had entrusted her innocent un-
suspecting cub, coming up to me with a most solemn face,
and asking me if I had brought with me my copy of the
school book "Pempe moron proteron." I said I had not.
Then," says he, "you must borrow one at once, or the
Doctor," i.e. Dr. Moberly, the head master, "will be sure to
flog you to-morrow morning, and your college tutor, one of
the præfects, will also lick you." So he sent me to another
boy, who said he had lent his " Pempe moron proteron,” but
he passed me on to a third, he on to a fourth: so I was run-
ning about all over the college till quite late, in a most terri-
ble panic of mind, till at last a good-natured præfect said,
"Construe it, you little fool." I had never thought of this
before. I saw it directly: Pempe (send) moron (a fool) pro-
teron (further). So the title of this wonderful book after all
was "Send a fool further." I then went to complain to
H——; he only laughed, and shied a Donnegan's Lexicon
H-
at my head. I dodged it like a bird, so he made me pick it
up and bring it to him again, like a retriever dog. I then
had to "run for another shot," and he winged me this time;
so I shall never forget the translation of Pempe moron pro-
teron.
"The beds in "chambers" (as the sleeping apartments are
called) are, I believe, as old as William of Wykeham him-
self; they are made of very thick oak planks, and there is
a hollow for the bedclothes, after the style of the beds for
WINCHESTER
13
وو
foxhounds in kennels. I was glad enough to turn in after
this long and anxious day. I dreamed of home, and cal-
culated how big some young ducks I had left in the out-
house at home would be when the holidays came round.
They were my ducks. I had bought them as squeakers
on Port Meadow, with my pocket-money, and my father
had promised that if I was a good boy at my lessons I
should cut their heads off when I came home, on the wood
block in the tool-house, with the gardener's hatchet.
was made a great treat to my brother and myself to cut a
duck's head off while my dear old father held the duck's
legs-but he was not dressed for the occasion in his canon-
ical robes.
It
In the midst of my dreams I imagined that an eruption
of Mount Vesuvius had suddenly taken place. I felt my-
self flying through the air, and then experienced a most
tremendous crack on the back of my head; in fact, I was
"launched." I afterwards ascertained that all new boys
were "launched " the first night after arrival. The process
of "launching" is in this wise: when the innocent is fast
asleep, dreaming of home and mother, two boys catch hold
of one side of the bottom of the mattress and two of the
other, and at the signal "Launch!" run the bed out in the
middle of the room with the boy in it; they then cut
away like rabbits to their own beds, while the wretched
"junior" has to rearrange his bed as well as he can, and
tumble in again, frightened out of his wits. There is,
however, a little mercy shown, for it is considered unfair
to launch the same boy twice in the same night, particu-
larly as he has, in the course of a day or two, when he is
beginning to be able to sleep again (for "launching" made
14
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
me sleep with one eye open), to be initiated nto another
college mystery.
A few nights afterwards I dreamt I was wandering
on the sea-shore, and that a crab was pinching my foot.
Instantly awakening, I experienced a most frightful pain
in my great toe. I bore it for a while, until at last it
became so intense that I had to jump up with a howl of
agony; all was quiet, but the pull continued, and I had
to follow my toe and outstretched leg out of bed. I then
found a bit of wetted whipcord tight round it; but the
whipcord was so ingeniously twisted among the beds that
it was impossible to find out who had pulled it. I re-
turned to bed as savage as a wounded animal. The
moment I was settled, the boys all burst into a shout:
"Toe fit tied! By Jove, what a lark!" This barbarous
process is called "toe fit tie" because there is a line in
Prosody which begins, "To fit ti, ut verto verti." Hence
the origin of this Winchester custom.
a
"The latest arrival in college is called "junior in
chambers," and in my time "junior in chambers" had
precious hard time of it. He had to get up at "first peal,
i.e. when the chapel bell rang—and this was awfully early
in the morning-call all the boys in the room, light the
fire, put out the præfects' washing apparatus, &c. The
Winchester fires were large fagots burnt upon "dog-
irons." It requires great art to make a fagot light
quickly, and the burning sticks were awkward to handle.
No tongs were allowed; so when a boy first took office
he had a pair of "tin gloves" given him; i.e. one of
the seniors took the red-hot end of a bit of stick, and
blowing it to keep it alight made a mark down all the
WINCHESTER
15
was
fingers and round the wrists; after he had received his
"tin gloves" woe be to the boy who managed the fagots
clumsily, for he instantly was formally presented with
another pair of "tin gloves." The "junior in chambers"
had also to clean the wash-hand basins, and they were only
cleaned before chapel-time on a Sunday morning. We had
to do this out in the open, at two water-taps, which were
called "conduit." I'll be bound to say that very few
Winchester boys now know how to clean basins properly.
The secret is to use salt. But "cleaning basins"
terrifically cold work for our fingers on frosty mornings,
especially if we had chapped hands; and what with "tin
gloves" and salt, this was often the case. We also had to
mark the basins. I wonder if any of my readers know
how to mark indelibly a common white wash-hand basin
with initials of the owner? Well, it is a Winchester
secret. If you rub the basin hard with the pipe part of
an ordinary drawer key, you will wear off the white enamel
of the basin and lay bare the brown part of the structure.
One boy, F————, now a judge in India, was wonderfully
clever at marking basins. He used to be let off cricket to
mark basins, and he used to sit by the "tap" working away
at the basins, like a cobbler. How I envied him! For 1
even now hate cricket. I had quite enough of it as a fag
at Winchester. The "junior in chambers" had also to
clean the knives. There were no American knife-cleaners
in those days; but we cleaned the knives by rubbing them
up and down quickly in the cracks between the stones
of the college court. I could now walk to my favourite
knife-cleaning place just by the college chapel door; it is
on the west side.
F.
16
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
'It was also the duty of "junior in chambers," as well as
other "fags," to make coffee for the præfects. There is a
great art in making coffee. The coffee must be mixed with
cold water, it must then be put on the "dog-irons" till
large bubbles come to the surface; these must be broken
one by one with a piece of stick; a piece of the skin of a
sole must then be put into the coffee, it must be allowed
to boil up again, and then a small cup of cold water
thrown in and the coffee allowed to settle. The juniors
used to take pride in making coffee, and I recollect once,
when there was a (C
coffee match" I got the second prize,
and will now back myself to make coffee against anybody,
even professed cooks. We used also to make plum
puddings; but we never began them till very late at
night, when we thought the master, Dr. Wordsworth (now
Bishop of St. Andrews), had gone to bed and would not
come his rounds that night. I used to roll the dough
with the towel roller that was behind the door. The
biggest licking I ever got in my life was for making a
heavy plum pudding; and to this day I would not under-
take to make a plum pudding, as I shall never forget that
licking.
The præfects, when not particularly busy with their
books, instituted bolstering matches among the juniors.
A bolster, properly arranged, is a very formidable weapon,
and the great object was to skin one's adversary's nose.
This is done by a well-directed blow which brings the
rough edge of the bolster on to the bridge of the nose. I
recollect on one occasion having a fierce battle with a lad
who has since died, holding a high official appointment.
In the middle of the fight we heard a key put in the door.
WINCHESTER
17
By Jove! it was Dr. Wordsworth, coming the rounds!
I was into bed in a moment, and, though panting like a
hunted fox, pretended to be fast asleep. Dr. Wordsworth
put the light of the lantern he carried right into my eyes,
but I never moved a muscle, because I knew perfectly well
that if I had been caught my name would have been
“ordered” for a flogging the next morning, while I should
most certainly have got a "tunding" with a ground-ash
stick from the præfects for being such a fool as to be
caught by the master.
'I had not been long at Winchester before I was ap-
pointed to be "rod maker." The rods consist of four apple
twigs; these are tied fast into four grooves at the top of a
light wooden handle. It requires some skill to make a
rod properly, as the twigs are apt to shift round under the
string, and thus get loose; and if a rod were not properly
made, and if it broke when the master was using it, I
think the manufacturer was entitled to one cut from a rod
made by some one else. The præfects used to buy the
ground-ashes from Bill Purvis, the under cook. They
were sapling ashes, with the roots on. The legend was
that Purvis used to boil them with the mutton to get the
grease into them, and then put them up the big college
chimney to toughen; and, by Jove! they were tough as
whalebone!
Unless a boy had twenty juniors, i.e. twenty boys
below him in the school, he was not allowed to "think."
The præfects, when they wanted anything, used to cry
"Junior! junior!" and the junior boy in the school had to
run instantly. The præfect would say, "Where is so-and-
so?" The junior would answer, "Please, I thought so-and-
C
18
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
so." "Have you got twenty juniors?" "No." "Then you
must have three clows for thinking." "Clows" are boxes
on the ear; they don't hurt much; we boys found out the
proper way to shift one's head, so that the clows should
not hurt.
6
Altogether, we juniors had a pretty hard time of
it; but it was wonderful good training; it made one so
awfully sharp and certain about little things. The edict
against "thinking" was good; it made one find out for cer-
tain, or else say "I don't know."
"I don't know." We were never whacked
for "not knowing," only for "thinking." Many people
about are always "thinking;" they should have been at
Winchester. A few "clows" administered to them when
juniors would have done them much good.
'I once made a tremendously lucky hit. I was very
nearly at the bottom of a class before Dr. Wordsworth. A
senior boy was construing a passage in the first Georgic,
describing a man rowing up stream with oars:
Non aliter quam qui adverso vix flumine lembum
Remigiis subigit: si brachia forte remisit,
Atque illum in præceps prono rapit alveus amni.
None of the boys could construe the word "atque." The
ordinary meaning of "atque" is "and." I thought to myself,
if I left off rowing when pulling against stream, it is
common sense that the boat would immediately carry me
down stream. I was a long way down the class, and
when my turn came to answer as to what was the English
of atque, I jumped up boldly and sung out, "Atque, imme-
diately." "Good boy," said Dr. Wordsworth, "take their
places;" and if I recollect right I took twenty-two places
WINCHESTER
19
at one leap, and marched in triumph from the bottom to
within two of the top of the class. I have a strong idea that
when school-hour came I got a licking from two or three boys
for knowing what the English of atque was.
There was
one consolation, however. The next day I was set on in
Dr. Wordsworth's new edition of the Greek grammar, of
which he was especially fond, but which we boys, who
knew the old Greek grammar pretty well, hated with all
our hearts. I had to interpret something connected with
the formation of the aorists of some horrible Greek verb.
I never could understand Greek grammar, and I never
shall, knowing nothing about these aorists, preterplu-
perfects, and things of that kind. So Wordsworth's Greek
grammar atque-immediately-sunk me, like a stone round
my neck, to my old position at the bottom of the class,
and, if I recollect right, two places lower than whence I
started.
'We boys were very fond of recording maltranslations.
I recollect one of my own. Dr. Moberly had "put me on
to translate a passage which I confess I had never looked
at. I was pulled up short at the words " Numinis Idæi,"
which ought to mean "of the god of Ida." I translated it
66
of the Numidean Ideus." I also recollect one boy, whose
name was Salmon-of course I cannot forget that name
translating-
Aspice bis senos lætantes agmine cycnos (En. i. 393),
وو
which ought to be "behold twice six swans." He trans-
lated it "Behold two old swans." The following translation
is also a legend among Winchester boys:
Silvestrem tenui musam meditaris avenâ (Ecl. i. 2).
C 2
20
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
66
66
وو
which being properly interpreted would read as follows:
Meditaris, thou art playing; silvestrem musam, a rustic
song; tenui avena, on your slender flute." The following
very different version, however, was given by the unfortu-
nate boy, thus: "Tenui, I held; silvestrem musam, my
woody muse; meditaris arena, on the shores of the Medi-
terranean." Other maltranslations, from the records of
public schools, are given in that admirable little book, "The
Art of Pluck." "Et tu Brute," "You brute, you." "Mala
ducis avi domum," which ought to be "Thou art taking
her" (Helen) "home under bad auspices," was rendered
thus: "Thou bringest apples to the house of thy grand-
father." Ite, capelli," "Go it, you cripples.' "Terra
mutat vices," "The Earth changes her shift." The author
of "The Art of Pluck" then proceeds to observe, “From
which examples is seen, first, how simple words, which
cannot be construed wrong so far as grammar concerneth,
may yet be turned by fit attention to a wrong meaning;
how, secondly, a complex sentence so turned to a wrong
meaning may yet be further improved in wrongness by
bad grammar, as happened with Mr. Thomas
College, who, when he had construed Hannibal Alpes
trunsivit summâ diligentia,' 'Hannibal passed over the Alps
on the top of a diligence,' was straightway reproved by the
examiner as having construed wrong; whereon he yet
improved the wrongness by bad grammar, construing thus :
The Alps passed over Hannibal on the top of a diligence;'
and again, by worse grammar, 'A diligence passed over
Hannibal on the top of the Alps."" I only recollect one
Greek maltranslation. It was this: καὶ ἐξελθὼν ἔξω ὁ
Πέτρος ἔκλαυσε πικρώς, which should be “And Peter
of
WINCHESTER
21
went out and wept bitterly." The undergraduate, whose
brain was crammed by the coach to the utmost, translated
it "And Peter went out and slammed the door violently."
I have lately heard one in Portuguese that really took place.
A certain lad received extra pay on board ship as being a
great linguist. The ship was disabled, and put into a
Portuguese harbour with a broken mast. The interpreter
did not know a word of Portuguese, and was puzzled how
to get out of the mess. Some one said, "All right; all
you have to do is to speak English and put an 'o' at the
end of every word." So when the Portuguese ship car-
penter came on board, the interpreter boldly went up to
him and said, "Look-o here-o, we-o want-o new-o mast-o
ship-o." The puzzled carpenter answered, "Non intendi,"
i.e. "I don't understand." The captain roared out to the
interpreter, “What does he say?" The interpreter very
sharply answered, "Oh, he says you can't have it under
ten days." "Oh, confound him!" said the captain, "that
won't do for me. What fools these Portuguese are!"
(
The passenger by the train from Winchester to South-
ampton, if he looks out of the window just as he passes
Winchester station, will see a hill on the downs, sur-
rounded by a ditch and a valley and a rampart. This is
St. Catherine's Hill, or, as we boys called it, "Hills." At
certain seasons of the year we were marched on to these
hills before breakfast. The custom was to keep line, while
the prefect of Hall "whipped in" with a ground-ash as
we ascended the hill. When we got within the remains
of the old earth fortification which forms a kind of crown
to the hill, we broke up. Many of the boys played foot-
ball or cricket. For my own part, I never did either; my
22
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
great delight was to dig out field mice, and at that time
there were a great lot of field mice on "Hills." They make
long burrows through the turf of the downs, and then into
the chalk itself. There are certain signs by which the
experienced "mouse-digger" can tell whether the mouse is
in the hole or not, but, for the benefit of the little mice, I
shall not give the present Winchester boys this know-
ledge: let them acquire it for themselves. Having dis-
covered a hole with a mouse in it, the next process is to
pass down it a flexible stick, and this showed where the
hole had taken a turn. We then dug down to this turn,
and passing the stick further up the burrow, dug down to
it again. In about three diggings I generally managed to
get the mouse, but the last part of these engineering
operations had to be conducted with very great care, as
the mouse generally made a bolt for it. Little pickaxes
used to be sold at a certain shop in Winchester; we called
these "mouse-diggers." During the holidays I was initi-
ated into the noble art of fox-hunting by my uncle,
Thomas Morland, who kept the Berkshire hounds at
Sheepstead, near Abingdon. He was then very parti-
cular about having the fox earths stopped. Acting, there-
fore, upon my experience in the matter, I took very good.
care to stop all the mouse earths that were within a rea-
sonable distance of the one on which I was operating.
The
consequence of this and other precautions was, that I
was looked up to by the other boys as the most experienced
mouse-digger in the college. I also tried to set the
fashion of eating these field mice as we caught them. On
some mornings we were fearfully hungry on the top of
these hills (we went there before breakfast). I used to
WINCHESTER
23
skin the mice, run a bit of stick through them, and roast
them in front of a fire which I made out of sticks collected
from a fence which divided "Hills" from a ploughed field.
This hedge belonged to one Farmer Bridger, who com-
plained to the warden about our burning his hedge, so
I had to take the mice home and cook them in college. A
roast field mouse-not a house mouse--is a splendid bonne
bouche for a hungry boy; it eats like a lark. Mice cooked
in college were not nearly so good as mice cooked on
"Hills."
'The præfects, that is the senior boys, were not required
to go on the hill; they were allowed to wander about the
water-meadows below; and each præfect was permitted to
be accompanied by the junior boy he chose to invite.
Now, I was then a good hand at trapping and snaring
anything, and it soon got about that I knew how to wire
trout. My skill was put to the test, and after that I very
seldom went on the hill again-which I regretted, because
I was fond of mouse-digging-as I had to wire trout for
the præfects' breakfasts. The guardian of these meadows
was a funny old fellow, who lived in a wretched cabin close
by a certain weir, and we boys knew him as " Waterman."
When, therefore, we started on our trouting expeditions,
the first thing to do was to send out scouts to "mark
down" Waterman, and generally a decoy party was sent
out without any wires; their duty was to poke about and
pretend to look for trout, while myself and the real
poachers were at work quite in an opposite direction. The
wires I used were the finest pianoforte wires, and there is
great art in making the noose and passing it over the
trout's head. We did not do much harm after all, for the
24
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
water was so clear and the trout so artful, that we never
caught very many. "Waterman," though, once very nearly
caught me; but I gave him a tremendous chase across the
meadows and through the various watercourses, and ulti-
mately had to swim the river to get away from him. The
sleeves of our college gowns acted as pockets, and I had
two trout in one sleeve and one in another. When swim-
ming the river the fish in my sleeves came to life again,
and I had a hard job to land myself and my fish.
'Rat-hunting was a celebrated sport of us boys. There
was a mill which adjoined our playground, which we called
"Meads." The miller used to catch the rats in the mill
and let them down in a round wire rat-trap (how well I
recollect that trap!) out of a little porthole window in the
mill, by means of a string. We then turned the rats out
one at a time in the middle of the cricket-ground, and
gave them a due amount of law; when they got their
proper distance "the hounds" were laid on. "The hounds"
were not allowed to use sticks or stones, but had to catch
the rat by the tail-a very difficult operation, I can assure
you, and the rats bite fearfully if you do not know how to
handle them. You should twist them round and round
the moment you get a hold on the tail. If a rat showed
particularly good sport he was kept to hunt again on an
off day when the miller had no rats.
'I was also, I am sorry to say, very fond of wiring cats.
There was a grating in a certain iron door named "Moab."
(The reader must know that "Moab" was the place where
some marble basins and washing accommodation had been
erected for the use of the boys; we christened it Moab on
account of the passage, "Moab is my wash-pot.") The cats
WINCHESTER
25
but
used to come through the grating at "Moab " gate,
they were very artful, and used to push the wires on one
side. The first cat I caught was the "sick-house" cat.
Now "sick-house" was the hospital for the boys, and
"Mother" was the kind-hearted old matron who looked
after it. Of course I let "Mother's" cat go free, and
"Mother "never found me out, though I think she always
suspected me.
There were a great many jackdaws in the college
tower. The bell-ringer's name was "Dungee;" the under
porter's, "Joel :" college porters from time immemorial at
Winchester have been called by the names of the minor
prophets in succession. Dungee and Joel taught me to
ring bells, and I was very fond of going to assist. When
the young jackdaws were fit to take, Dungee, Joel, and
myself used to collect them out of the holes in the tower.
We reared them and let them fly when they were properly
fledged. The mother jackdaws used frequently to come to
feed their young when we boys were in school at lessons.
We used to get up early in the morning to catch lob-
worms to feed the jackdaws. I frequently tried a plan to
catch the Winchester rooks. It is this: roll up a piece of
brown paper in the shape of a cone, place a piece of cheese
at the far end of it, then put plenty of birdlime or pitch
inside; the bird puts his head into the cone, the birdlime
sticks to his feathers, he attempts to fly, and tumbles about
in a ridiculous manner. I confess I was not very successful
at this fun; the Winchester rooks seemed to have imbibed
some of the learning of the place.
6
Though we were very fond of rat-hunting and mouse-
digging, yet we did not have much to do with fire-arms.
26
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
}
When dining last year at the regular Wykehamist dinner
an old brother Wykehamist told me that he well recollected
in his time that Dr. Gabell once suddenly called upon all
the boys to parade their Ainsworth's dictionaries. One lad
brought up his dictionary with fear and trembling. Dr.
Gabell found it would not open; he therefore made the boy
open it, when it was discovered that the leaves had been
beautifully glued together, and it had been converted into
a case for a brace of pistols. This same boy's "scob" (or
school box) was then searched, and instead of the proper
amount of classical books that should have been there,
the Doctor found a brace of live ferrets eating a fowl's
head.
A great deal has been said and written about the
cruelty of "fagging," and more especially of "tunding," at
Winchester. As in almost every case under dispute, there
are two ways of looking at this matter. Kept within bounds,
"tunding" is an excellent institution, but of course may be
sometimes very much abused, particularly if the præfect
happen to have a bad temper. The boys of this generation.
would be a great deal better for a little judicious "tunding."
I lately had a page boy who could work well if he liked;
one day, after a series of omissions, such as not cleaning
the monkeys' night cage when they were in their day cage
-not feeding the parrot-omitting to brush clothes-
boots not ready-the room where I cast fish left untidy,
&c., always "thinking" (see my definition of thinking
above)—I called him up and said, "Now, John, I'm going
to give you a present of fifty pounds." The boy's face
brightened up, and he said, "Oh, thank you, sir."
not in money, though, John," said I. "I'm going to give
"It's
WINCHESTER
27
you a jolly good hiding, and that will be worth fifty pounds
to you."
وو
'All I can say in concluding these remarks is, that the
jolly good hidings and the severe fagging I got as a lad at
Winchester have been of the utmost value to me in after
life, and therefore I should be very sorry to see "fagging"
and “tunding” altogether done away with at Winchester.
God bless the dear old place, and all Wykehamists, past,
present, and future.'
At Winchester Frank Buckland made many lifelong
friends, who yet retain a vivid recollection of his school life,
and from some of them the following reminiscences are
gathered :-
<
Imagine a short, quick-eyed little boy, with a shock
head of reddish brown hair (not much amenable to a hair-
brush), a white neck-cloth tied like a piece of rope with no
particular bow, and his bands sticking out under either ear
as fancy pleased him-in fact, a boy utterly indifferent to
personal appearance, but good-tempered and eccentric,
with a small museum in his sleeve or cupboard, sometimes
a snake, or a pet mouse, or a guinea-pig, or even a hedge-
hog. In the summer he would be always in the hedgerows
after birds, weasels, or mice, or in the water-meadows
after crayfish, tomculls, and other fish which hide under
stones. He was known as an expert hand in skinning
badgers, rats, &c., and also setting wires at Blue-Gate for
cats; old Purver, a college servant, used to find them
early in the morning when he went through into school
to light the fires. In fact, he was a born naturalist.'1
'I remember,' another schoolfellow writes,2 'sleeping
Mr. Frederick Gale.
2 Mr. T. W. Erle.
28
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
next bed to him for six months in "Third Chamber;"
he used to get up in the middle of the night, and de-
signedly in half-darkness carefully bind two fagot sticks
together, for the purpose, as he said, of accustoming
himself to be called up as a surgeon, half asleep, to de
I
some professional duty under adverse circumstances.
remember his starting a diary, and at the same time a
hedgehog. The diary remained in abeyance, and the
hedgehog was always being lost. So I undertook the
diary, and it consisted of "lost hedgehog," "found hedge-
hog," and so on on alternate days, till at last there came
the final and fatal entry of "ate hedgehog!" We messed
at what was called the same end," that is to say, we
dined at the end of the same table, and the hedgehog was
one of the strange things which sometimes appeared at
the table there.
(C
'One day he caught a young adder, and removed the
poison fangs, after which he lent or gave it to me, and it
lived inside my college waistcoat for a long time. He dis-
sected a series of cats; and when the warden's mastiff
died, I remember his dissecting the eye: my first know-
ledge of eyes, which is now pretty good, dates from that
occurrence.'
The raid on the cats was begun in defence of certain
rabbits, kept by some college boys, which, though tech-
nically illegal, were winked at by the authorities. The
rabbits had suffered sad depredations at the claws of a
cat, and it was determined to defend the weak, and punish
the invader, which was speedily wired, and the following
afternoon was devoted to the skinning of it. Many other
cats after this shared the like fate, including a large black
WINCHESTER
29
and white tomcat of Dr. Moberly's, brought in with
The fellows in Frank's
triumph; his skin was a treasure.
college chamber were much exercised by a very offensive
and persistent odour in the room, and on investigation it
was traced to the box under his bed, where were dis-
covered the remains of a cat, which he had for some time
been in the habit of dissecting member by member on
the sly in bed, and, as the operation lasted a considerable
time, the complaint of an ill odour was not unfounded.
The skinning of his specimens used to take place in
Moab; and the doors of the lockers there, both inside and
out, were adorned with the skins of cats, rats, mice, bats,
et hoc genus omne, duly peppered to prevent smell. His
maceration pots at Amen Corner, with heads of hares,
rabbits, cats, &c., being reduced to skulls, were things to
be avoided.
1 C
'Frank and I,' writes another, were always great
friends; for though the distance between a junior in
chambers and a præfect in full power was rather a wide
one, yet a community of tastes brought us together. I
remember that, at one time, an exposition of cooking
came on my fellow-præfect and myself in Sixth Chamber.
We used to make apple dumplings with, as may be sup-
posed, the heaviest of all possible paste, and boil them at
about twelve o'clock at night, tied in a neck-cloth!
Frank would always volunteer his neck-cloth, which was
unstarched, and used to beg to be called when the dump-
lings "came off." Many a time have I seen him sitting
up in bed eating the proceeds of our cookery, which I own
1 Dr. Merriman.
30
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
we the cooks had too much regard for our digestion to
attempt.
'Frank, too, set up a sort of amateur dispensary or
hospital. He had a patient or two. One man I remem-
ber, with a bad hand, who used to come down to College
Gate at twelve o'clock to consult him and be experimented
upon. In his toys (cupboard) he had various bottles and
specimens, one very highly treasured possession being a
three-legged chicken.
'His own natural disposition was of the sweetest and
gentlest. I never saw him in a passion, though he used
to get a good deal teased at one time for his untidiness.
But he always had a bright smile amidst it all, and was
ready to do anything for anybody immediately after. One
thing used to strike me very much about him, and that
was his exceeding love for his mother. Boys are generally
reticent upon this point, but Frank seemed never tired of
telling me about his, and how much he owed her.'
'Good-humoured, full of spirits, uniformly amiable and
obliging,' writes another old schoolfellow,' 'Old Buck-
land, or Fat Buckland, as he was usually called, became
the most popular boy in the school; every one brightened
into amusement at the sound of his loud voice and merry
laugh, and the tremendous "view halloa" which preceded
and announced his coming.'
Fond of school work he was not, but he did his duty
fairly, got through his 'construes' somehow, and ground
the regulation grist of dreary Greek and Latin verse.
Neither did he care for games. Already his naturalist
pursuits absorbed him. He did not so much regard the
1 Rev. W. Tuckwell.
WINCHESTER
31
chalk fossils which abound in the Winchester hills; he
had no microscope, neither was he a collector of insects.
His delight was to study the habits of live animals, and
to examine their structure when dead. An owl, a buzzard,
and a raccoon were successive tenants of one of his lockers.
A whole regiment of tame jackdaws owned him as their
patron, headed by an evil-looking magpie, with a name
not mentionable to ears polite, all of whom he used to
feed twice a day with bread and milk from 'sick-house."
His hedgehogs kept open a perpetual fosse at the base of
the wall bounding the college meads, and a good deal
of agility was generated one day by Frank's appearance
in the schoolroom at the crowded moment, just before the
entrance of the master, brandishing a bottle of ammonia,
and proclaiming that the viper had got loose. He was
a dexterous taxidermist, and might be seen on a half-
holiday in the deserted 'Moab' or lavatory, plying his
scalpel, and surrounded by a smell of corrosive sublimate,
the subjects being cats, bats, which nested in a hollow
plane tree in the meads; and moles, of whose skins he
constructed a very comfortable waistcoat.
bodies of the smaller creatures were sometimes eaten;
squirrel pie, and mice cooked in batter, ranking as special
dainties; oftener tied up in gallipots, and buried in the
mud of a villanous puddle, called Log Pond, till the flesh
fell from the bones, and it became easy to articulate the
skeleton. Towards the end of his school days his ana-
tomical studies enlarged their scope; gruesome fragments
of humanity were conveyed secretly from the hospital, and
as secretly dissected. He came to look on his school-
fellows with a professional eye. One R, a boy with a
The flayed
32
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
dolicocephalous head, used to relate with a slight shiver
that he had overheard Buckland muttering to himself,
'What wouldn't I give for that fellow's skull! '
It was a rare treat to walk with him in the beautiful
water-meadows of the Itchen, into which on summer
evenings the bounds of school imprisonment were ex-
tended. He knew every bird in the hedges, every snake,
shrew, or water-rat in the banks, every eel and crayfish
in the pleasant streams of 'Simmonds,' and 'Old Barge,'
and Adam and Eve,' and 'Waterman's Hut,' and had
a thousand anecdotes to tell of them. Reserved with
the boys in general, who looked upon him and his hobby
as an amusing enigma, he bestowed all his enthusiasm on
those who could understand and share it. If his naturalist
ardour marked him off from ordinary boys, so also did his
unfailing kindness and cordiality to all around him. Pro-
bably no one of his schoolfellows can recall, in thinking of
him, an ill-natured utterance or an oppressive deed during
all his years at Winchester. Very many recollect with
gratitude acts of quiet friendship and words of good-
humoured counsel, which came with double force from one
so simple and so modest, yet who lived so evidently a life
high-principled and blameless.
'It was during my last two years with him at Win-
chester,' writes another,' 'that we were most together.
He was my pupil at his own request (as was also his
brother), and the last year was with me in Third Chamber.
During that time we were constant companions; when we
went to “Hills" he generally came "off" with me, and we
spent our time in the water-meadows, or in the chalk
1 Rev. E. Fox.
WINCHESTER
33
quarries. The river was not unfrequently the last home
of a dead dog or cat; and, whenever it was possible, the
carcase was rescued and decapitated, the head being car-
ried home to College in his handkerchief. This was dis-
sected most carefully, each bone by itself—a process which
was not very sweet to the olfactory nerves; and then
came the question where to bestow the treasures. In the
locker? they were soon emptied by the owner of the next
locker; they were buried, but the cats dug them up; they
were placed in a basin of water under his bed; the bed-
maker threw them into the fire. At last, however, a safe
stowage place was found. Frank made friends with the
bell-ringer, and was permitted to carry skulls, bones, and
muscles up to the top of the Chapel tower. Here, exposed
to air, sun, and rain, in due season they were bleached, and
then, when warranted sweet, they were brought down and
ranged in order at the head of his bed in Third Chamber.
The bed became quite a lion; warden, master, and porter
often took visitors into the chamber to see the strange
medley of animal remains there exhibited.
'As a senior he was very kind to his juniors, even to
giving them an occasional dose of medicine, and his reme-
dies were certainly effectual though sometimes severe.
'A box on the ear, commonly in Winchester language
called a "clow," always excited his indignation. "It's a
shame," he used to say, "and may hurt a boy for ever. Take
a ground-ash and use it on the proper place, that will do
no harm and all the good in the world; " but I think he was
too kind to have ever used it himself on anyone.'
6
'Frank and I,' writes another, were at Winchester
¹ Rev. J. A. Gould.
C
34
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
together, where we were always fast friends. In school hours
he was a painstaking and conscientious worker, never learn-
ing his lessons or preparing his task quicker or better than
when he had some pet, a dormouse or sometimes a snake,
twisting and wriggling inside his college waistcoat, which,
having found its way out at his boots, would be carefully
replaced under the waistcoat to go through the same journey
again.
'We were both of us lucky in having some good præfect
friends. It was a præfect's privilege to call off two or three
boys to ramble with him, in the water meads or elsewhere,
instead of going with the less fortunate others to the top
of Mons Catherina. It was here, amidst the ditches and
trout streams by which the meads were intersected, that
Frank was in his glory. Here he would spend his whole
time, watching with keenest interest the habits of the water-
beetles, or the development of tadpoles and caddis-flies, or
the antics of some favourite old water-rat. Not that the
Waterman (the occupant, i.e. of Waterman's Hut, a much
frequented place of resort in those days) was always pleased
to see his genial face. Well did the Waterman know that
concealed in the sleeve of Frank's college gown was ટો
deftly twisted wire, and in his waistcoat pocket a string,
which he always kept there, with a knife and a sixpence,
having been advised to that effect (as he once told me) by
his godfather, and which would soon be extracted for the
purpose of attaching the wire to the end of a willow or ash
stick; and should a big trout have gone up one of those side
ditches for quiet and repose, the same big trout would in a
few seconds be transferred to the bank and be lost to him
for ever.
"What's the matter?" I said to him one day, as I
WINCHESTER
35
saw him looking very cross and most anxiously surveying
the watery territory of which he was the deputy warden.
“What's the matter?" (he answered gruffly); "why,
there's that young Buckland about, isn't there? and there's
no keeping no fish nor nuffin' from him.”
It was while at Winchester that Frank first set his heart
on becoming a surgeon. He chose as a parting gift from
one of his tutors (in lieu of Goldsmith's poems or such like
book) 'Graham's Domestic Medicine,' and studied it atten-
tively. One of his favourite ways of spending his holiday
during the latter part of his stay was in going to the
hospital, of which he wrote home in 1843 as follows:-
We
had leave out last Monday. I went with Mr. Butler
over the Winchester Hospital, and was very much amused.
We saw sundry fractures in all parts of the human body.
I could not see any operation, but I shall go over again, I
think next Tuesday. I think I would like to be a surgeon.
above all things, and to have the management of all these
sharp knives and broken limbs, eyes, &c., if I understood it
all.
'Mother (the matron at the sick-house) asked me to kill
her cat on Tuesday, which I did by a blow on the neck; she
was nearly dead because she had gone away and stayed
without food for some time, and Mother could not make her
eat; I skinned her and put her body in chloride of lime,
but the flesh would not come off as I wanted it, so I cut
off her skull and boiled it for three hours, and it is now
beautifully white and clean. The warden's large mastiff
was shot the other day because it had got the distemper.
I got the warden's boy to get me the head: I was very hard
at work yesterday cleaning it, i.e. cutting the flesh off; 1
D 2
36
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
am going to get it boiled, and then it will be fit to keep it
will make a beautiful skull, I think.
'We had leave out last Tuesday, and I went up to the
hospital again, where I met Mr. Paul the house-surgeon.
I walked through some of the wards, and saw the same
legs and arms in bandages and splints which I saw last
week broken and not yet set. I did not see many cases, be-
cause I went directly into the operating theatre, where an
amputation had been performed that morning: the leg was
lying on the table, so I immediately pulled out my pocket-
knife and began dissecting it. It had been amputated just
above the knee. It was just like a leg of beef with yellow
fat, &c., and I daresay it would have disgusted you if you
had not been accustomed to dissection. However, I cut
away some of the bottom of the foot to look at some
muscles, and then I cut off a great piece of skin; I put it in
my handkerchief, and took it down to the tanner's to be
tanned. The man there turned it about, but could not find
out what it was. I shall have it back next Tuesday, I hope
tanned like ox-leather. It is very thick, thicker than you
would expect. Mr. Paul laughed at me for skinning the
leg, and particularly when I pocketed the skin. I told
the tanner it was the hide of a curious animal (which is
true). The boys in College were very much disgusted at
my exploits, nevertheless I have had applications made for
skin. I shall bring a good piece home with me. Could you
manage to send me a lancet by post?'
With the lancet when it arrived he practised bleeding
on those of his companions who were courageous enough
to allow themselves to be operated on, offering sixpence
as an inducement.
WINCHESTER
37
The Christmas vacation of 1843 was spent as usual at
Christ Church, Oxford. At this date there is the following
entry in his Journal, which he had begun to keep regularly
in 1842:
6
Father gave me a collection of bones. Round Oxford
Infirmary with Dr. Wootton; fainted at my first operation,
an amputation by Wingfield; but I had been up all night
at Abingdon ball.'
In July 1844 he left Winchester for Christ Church,
on which occasion Dr. Moberly wrote thus to Dr. Buck-
land:
'On taking leave of your son Frank from Winchester,
I am most anxious to express to you my high sense of his
great good conduct and attention while he has been under
my care.
He has been unfailingly steady and careful in
everything which he has had to do, and carries away the
character of a most amiable and right-minded fellow.'
'I always,' Bishop Moberly writes again, in 1882, ' had
the utmost satisfaction in him as a school-boy; and I look
back with very great regard to his simple earnest character,
and his devotion to the studies which have made him so
well known. To me he was just what I always found
him, full of curious information, excellently kind-tempered
and affectionate. It is a long time since I saw him, but
I always thought of him with great regard and affection.'
8
38
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
CHAPTER III.
CHRIST CHURCH, 1844-1848.
IN October 1844, Frank Buckland entered Christ Church,
Oxford, as a commoner, Dr. Gaisford being then Dean.
He was admitted student in December, and remained at
Oxford until Easter term 1848, when he took his B.A.
degree.
(
Where the Meadow Buildings of Christ Church now
stand, then stood the old Fell's Buildings,' already much
dilapidated, and which were pulled down in 1858. There
was a small court between them and the Canons' gardens.
In Fell's Buildings Frank had his rooms on the ground
floor during his college course, and pursued his zoological
and surgical studies with equal energy and originality : he
made use of the court as a menagerie; continually adding
to his collection specimens zoological and anatomical, living
and dead. Amongst the former were a young bear named
Tiglath Pileser, Jacko the monkey, an eagle, a jackal,
besides marmots, guinea-pigs, squirrels and dormice, an
adder and many harmless snakes and slow-worms, tor-
toises, green frogs, and a chameleon. Skeletons and stuffed
specimens were numerous, and often anatomical prepara-
tions were in progress in the court. The live pets had a
tendency to stray. One morning Frank was called in
CHRIST CHURCH
39
haste to remove the marmot from the Chapter-house, as the
Chapter was about to meet. Another morning the eagle
stationed himself in the Chapel doorway and attacked those
who wished to enter, till he was rolled up in one of the
students' gowns and carried off ignominiously.
The long vacations of 1845 and 1846 were passed at
Giessen with Baron Liebig, in accordance with the advice
of Dean Conybeare of Llandaff, his father's friend and
companion in geological research, thus expressed:
'My young friend Frank, with his talents and your
reputation, is quite sure of running a very brilliant career
in the profession he has chosen with all the ardent interest
that marks genius. Do send him to Liebig in the long
vacation; that I am sure will be every way most useful to
his career; he is a great friend of mine, and I like him as
much for his modesty and civil attention to his seniors as
I respect him for his talents and keen powers of observa-
tion, which he has inherited and learnt from you.'
Many characteristic reminiscences of Frank's Oxford
life are preserved by his fellow-students.
'I remember well,' one writes,' 'the first time I saw
him on my journey to Oxford to,matriculate. I was travel-
ling from Salisbury, he from Winchester. At that time the
whole journey could not be accomplished by railroad, and I
struck the coach at some point. On the box was Frank,
and a very strange-looking little fellow I thought him.
but saw at once that he was unlike anyone else. Of
course we very soon began to talk, and Frank afforded us
plenty of amusement with his conversation. I can see
him now, and remember the eager way in which he observed
1 Mr. Herbert Fisher
40
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
everything. Once when we stopped to change horses,
lame one was brought out. Frank immediately leapt from
the box and proceeded to investigate the cause of th
lameness, taking up the horse's foreleg and examining th
foot. I believe that he thought he had discovered what wa
the matter; at all events, he held forth on the subject, mucl
to our amusement and that of the coachman and ostlers
We proceeded on our way, and after a short time Frank
took off his hat and produced a large moth which he had
found that morning in Winchester Chapel, and which he
began to examine carefully, calling our attention to its
characteristics.
'Recalling that journey, I cannot help remarking that
Frank was exactly then what he always continued to be.
For of all men whom I have known, I should think that
he must have changed the least with advancing years.
6 At Christ Church Frank was a member of a small
debating society started by Lord Dufferin, to which I also
belonged. Besides debates, each member had in turn to
contribute an essay. Of course, after the manner of young
men, we wrote and debated upon subjects far removed from
common life. Imagine, therefore, our amusement when
Frank announced as the subject of his first essay, "Whether
Rooks are Beneficial to the Farmer or not." He read his
composition with the greatest seriousness. We who were
accustomed to discuss the character of Cromwell, Charles I.,
and so on, were of course almost dying with suppressed
laughter at this delicious innovation. I quite forget how
Frank settled the matter, or what happened afterwards,
when, according to the usual practice, we ought to have
discussed the subject of the essay; but I think he must
CHRIST CHURCH
41
have had it all his own way. I don't think that even
Lord Dufferin, with all his versatile genius, made much of
the rooks.
'On another occasion I remember his coming armed
with a translation of Herodotus, frankly confessing that
he rather preferred the English version to the Greek, to
discuss some points of Egyptian Natural History. The
crocodile and the trochilus came in, I think, for a fair
share of attention.'
Another paper read before this society was an elaborate
history of the Dodo, collecting all the fragmentary know-
ledge which exists of this extinct bird.
'Unhappily, of late we scarcely ever met, though at
Christ Church I saw him constantly, and he was always
just the same; and so I am sure he must have remained
to the last, a genuine child of nature, with a mind full of
child-like mirth and gaiety, yet rendered serious by the
eagerness with which he scanned all natural objects, so
intense that no room was left for the slightest thought of
self. He seemed to assume that everyone must take as
much interest in these things as himself, and this imparted
that freshness and sincerity to his conversation which
made him so attractive a companion to people of every
kind; for he knew no distinction of persons. As I write
at this moment, I remember the last time I saw him. It
was at the South Kensington Museum. He was explain-
ing his salmon-breeding apparatus to the Duke of Rich-
mond, and looked and talked just as he had done on the
Oxford coach.'
'He was the first man,' Dr. Liddon writes, who called
on me when I came up to Christ Church. I was in
42
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
((
garrets" in Peckwater, and had arrived the previous
night, and, as I knew only a few people, was feeling very
lonely and strange. He came into my room after break-
fast, and said some cheery words, and told me, I remember,
that it was a "good thing to try to have plenty to say to
men." I have always remembered this visit with gratitude,
and this piece of advice; this was in October 1846. He
often asked me to breakfast with him in his rooms in
"Fell's Buildings." One of these breakfasts was in the
spring, and it coincided with a great event; the marmots,
which had hybernated in the cellar below, had just, as he
expressed it," thawed." There was great excitement; the
creatures ran about the table, as entitled to the honours of
the day; though there were other beasts and reptiles in
the room too, which in later life would have made break-
fasting difficult. Speaking of reptiles, one very early
incident in my Oxford life was joining in a hunt of
Frank's adder. It had escaped into Mr. Benson's rooms,
and was pursued into the bedroom by a group of under-
graduates, who had however different objects in view.
Frank certainly had the well-being of the adder chiefly at
heart; the rest of us, I fear, were governed by the lower
motive of escaping being bitten anyhow-if, consistently
with the adder's safety, well-if not, still of escaping.
Eventually the adder was caught, I believe, without great
damage. This must have been in 1847.
'One day I met Frank just outside Tom Gate. His
trowsers' pockets were swollen out to an enormous size;
they were full of slow-worms in damp moss. Frank
explained to me, that this combination of warmth and
moisture was good for the slow-worms, and that they
·
CHRIST CHURCH
43
enjoyed it. They certainly were very lively, poking their
heads out incessantly, while he repressed them with the
palms of his hands.
I was in chapel on that Sunday morning when the
eagle came in at the eight o'clock service. The cloister
door had been left open, and the bird found its way into
the church, while the Te Deum was being sung, and
advanced with its wings nearly spread out. Two or three
men left their places to deal with it; Dean Gaisford
looked unspeakable things.
Of the bear I have a much less distinct recollection;
but the jackal was, I might almost say, a personal friend.
He was fastened up in the court outside Fell's Buildings ;
and I recollect how, under some odd and painful irritation,
he used to go round and round, eating off his tail. Frank
expressed great sympathy with him, modified by strong
curiosity—he wondered how far Jacky would eat up into
his back!
'He was certainly one of the most popular men in
Christ Church: when he was in the schools, to be ex-
amined vivâ voce, almost the whole undergraduate world
of Christ Church was there; I can even now recollect his
being put on in a chorus of Sophocles.
'He always struck me, in respect of the most serious
matters, as combining strength and simplicity very re-
markably; it was impossible to talk to him, and not to
be sure that God, life, death and judgment were to him
solid and constantly present realities.'
'It is not quite satisfactory,' writes another fellow-
student,¹´to look back from the present, when the natural
1 Rev. St. John Tyrwhitt.
44
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
sciences are fully and effectually taught in Oxford, and
when earnest study in any of them is sure to meet en-
couragement and ample reward, to a time when an ener-
getic student of physics and born field-naturalist was con-
sidered simply off his head for caring about nature.
'A great work has been done for Oxford physical
studies, but still more striking and immediate results
would certainly have followed, had Frank found proper in-
struction in physiology here in his youth, and taken his
place as one of its teachers in manhood. Both he and
Oxford have done pretty well, but Oxford lost much in
not keeping him.
'The present Meadow Gate of Christ Church, Oxford,
occupies nearly the same ground as that old postern, at the
end of that old cloister passage, which elderly Oxford rowing
men so well remember as a short way down to the boats.
'The new buildings were yet unthought of, and the
space they now occupy was filled, somewhat insecurely
and inconveniently, by the chaplain's quadrangle on one
side of the passage, and the single garden staircase on the
other. The quiet parts of a college are like the quiet
streets of London, subject to occasional and powerful dis-
turbances of adjacent echoes by their inhabitants; and at
that time, from morn to dewy eve, various sounds inter-
mittingly broke the spell of academic silence in the
building abutting on Christ Church Meadow.
A post-horn or cornet would break forth into irregular
practice; a supposed fox would be halloed away from an
imaginary cover in the broad-walk; a bear would utter his
voice, or it might be a monkey; or one or both animals
might obtain temporary freedom and wander about college,
CHRIST CHURCH
45
causing effervescence; in short, tranquillity was far from
slumbrous in the more retired parts of "the house;" nor
was it at once restored by the appearance of a very broad-
backed young man of personal strength and activity
greatly exceeding his moderate height, having a shock-
chestnut-coloured head, a blue pea-jacket, a red German
student's cap with a gold tassel, with a presumably
harmless snake hanging out of his trowsers' pocket, and
bearing a scalpel and a trumpet, or perhaps a long Swiss
wooden cow-horn, and coming out from the ground-floor
rooms on the right on the garden staircase.
There hung an odour of physical science about the
rooms, which increased as you got nearer. If you passed
through the outer room into the study, you found the oc-
cupant surrounded by friends and playmates irrational or
human, and deep in scientific investigation after his own
fashion; which, be it observed, was as industrious as it was
irregular. As the son of a canon and well known to every-
body, he was better understood than most persons, and
noises never got him into trouble: but I think that the
rest of us, who only thought of Greek and Latin reading,
if we read at all, never quite understood the reality or the
value of the work Frank was engaged in, or that he was
in fact educating himself much better than most of us
were doing.'
Dr. Merriman, his præfect at Winchester, renewed his
friendship with him at Oxford. Frank often came to visit
me in my ground-floor rooms at New College; I had a nice
little piece of garden, wherein I kept a dog and a hedge-
hog, in both of which Frank took a lively interest.
'Well do I remember his coming in one day, beaming
46
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
with delight, and saying, "Oh! Merriman, I have brought
you something you will like;" and then, thrusting his hands
into his breast-pocket, he pulled forth and placed on my
table a snake.
'I remember also on one occasion going down to Christ
Church to see him. As I opened his door he exclaimed,
"Oh! Merriman, stop a minute-my adder is out!" I need
hardly say I penetrated no farther until I saw him stoop
down, catch the thing by the tail-its fangs had not been
drawn-and swing it into a drawer, which was immediately
shut. Just after this his father came in. It was soon after
he was made Dean of Westminster. He had come down
to lecture, and, opening the little black bag which he had
in his hand, he produced a tortoise for Frank. I have
often wondered whether it was the one which has now be-
come famous all the world over as being decreed to be an
“insect” in the judgment of the railway officers.
'He came down to me one day for the purpose of tell-
ing me what he had for dinner the day before—namely,
panther chops! He was a great friend of the curator of
the then existing Surrey Zoological Gardens. From him
Frank heard one day that the panther was dead. “I wrote
up at once," he said, "to tell him to send me down some
chops. It had, however, been buried a couple of days, but
I got them to dig it up and send me some. It was not
very good."
'One evening,' writes another college friend,' 'when I
was devoting an hour to coaching him up for his little go,
I took care to tuck up my legs, in Turkish fashion, on the
sofa for fear of a casual bite from the jackal which was
1 Mr. Walter Stanhope.
CHRIST CHURCH
47
wandering about the room.
After a time I heard the
animal munching up something under the sofa, and was
relieved that he should have found something to occupy
him. When our work was finished, I told Buckland that
the jackal had found something to eat under the sofa.
"My poor guinea-pigs!" he exclaimed; and, sure enough,
four or five of them had fallen victims.'
Tiglath Pileser, the bear, was about six months old
when he entered Christ Church, where he lived in a corner
of a court beside Fell's Buildings. He was provided with
cap and gown, and in this costume was taken to wine
parties, or went boating with his master, to the wonder-
ment of the children in Christ Church Meadow, who would
follow them down the walk leading to the boats, regardless
of expostulations and threats, until sometimes the bear
was turned loose and shambled after them, whereupon
they fled.
Tig, as he was familiarly called, took part in the pro-
ceedings of the British Association at Oxford in 1847, at-
tending in cap and gown the garden party at the Botanic
Gardens, and receiving a visit from Lord Houghton, then
Mr. Monckton Milnes, who attempted to mesmerise him in
his corner. This made the bear furious, but he gradually
yielded to the influence, and at last fell senseless on the
ground.
Of this meeting Sir Charles Lyell wrote: 'In the evening
we had an immense party at the Botanic Gardens. Young
Buckland had a young bear dressed up as a student of
Christ Church, with cap and gown, whom he formally
introduced to me and successively to the Prince Canino
(Charles Buonaparte), Milne Edwards, member of the
48
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
French Institute, and Sir T. Acland. The bear sucked all
our hands and was very caressing. Amid our shouts of
laughter in the garden by moonlight, it was diverting to
see two or three of the dons, who were very shy, not
knowing how far their dignity was compromised.'
Tig at last fell under the censure of the Dean of Christ
Church. ‘Mr. Buckland,' the Dean is reported to have
said, 'I hear you keep a bear in college; well, either you
or your bear must go.'
So Tig was sent to Islip, a living held by Dean Buckland,
seven miles from Oxford, and lived there for some months
with the eagle and Jacko, who had also been rusticated.
Tig sometimes rode out on horseback with his master, at
other times he took walking exercise, following any who
would allow him to suck their fingers. This unsubstantial
solace was so much to his taste that it was needful to pro-
vide a lump of sugar to induce him to let go.
From Islip, Tig once visited Canon and Mrs. Rawlinson
at the neighbouring village of Merton, and was first put in
the stable; but the horses became so excited that he was
removed to an outhouse. Soon after a maid, running across
the fields breathless and capless, called Mrs. Rawlinson
back from her walk, crying out that the bear had got loose;
they were all afraid to catch him; he was in the kitchen,
and the leg of mutton roasting for luncheon would be
eaten up. Returning instantly, there appeared a doubt
whether the bear was in the kitchen or the scullery; the
cook had shut herself up in one, and the bear in the other.
Both were, however, soon released, and the bear again
consigned to his outhouse. He soon escaped again, and
walked up into the nursery, where the first-born baby was
CHRIST CHURCH
49
sleeping. Father and mother ran upstairs and met Tig
walking out of the room, leaving the child quietly sleeping.
After this Tig was sent back to his master. Led by a
chain, he trotted quietly along until in one of the fields a
flock of sheep came in view. This temptation he could
not withstand, he was off in an instant after them. The
poor old shepherd, his dog and the sheep, all fled, with the
bear after them, enjoying the fun. At last Tig was caught
by his conductor, who picked him up and carried him the
rest of the way to Islip.
At Islip, news came one day that the bear had broken
his chain and was in the grocer's shop, devouring the
sugar and sweetstuff, and terrifying the shop-woman out
of her wits. She had retired to the back parlour, leaving
him in possession of the shop, and had sent a messenger
out at the back door for relief. After this the bear de-
veloped such a proclivity for the sweetstuff shop, to the
damage of the woman's nerves and his master's pocket,
that in November 1847 he was sent to the Zoological
Gardens, where he died some time after in an effort to cut
his teeth.
The exploits of the eagle and of Jacko are recorded in
the second volume of Curiosities of Natural History.'
The snakes had the advantage of frequent change of
scene, as they visited all the rooms on the staircase and
were indulged with excursions in their proprietor's pockets,
sometimes as far as London, where in Oxford Street one
day Frank produced a very fine one, exhibiting him at full
length to the astonishment of passengers.
The chameleon used to stand upon an inverted wine-
glass with his tail round the stem and assimilate flies.
E
50
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
This he did with a concentrated gravity and entire want of
speculation in his opaque and protruding eyes, which con-
vulsed wine parties, especially when he concluded his per-
formance by tumbling head-foremost into the preserved.
ginger.
One of the Christ Church tutors was wont to say, in a half-
serious way, that he had once seen the devil. It was in
this way: on returning to his College rooms one evening in
the twilight, and proceeding to hang up his cap and gown,
he had the sensation of not being alone in the room, of a
shadow now here, now there, as he turned, but no sound.
He waited—yes, there must be some one or something in the
room He called his scout to help him search; when on
the top of his window, clinging to the curtain in the dark,
they saw the outline of Jacko, looking very uncanny indeed:
a chase began, which ended by Jacko popping out of the
window into Dr. Pusey's fig-tree, and thus making off
through the gardens.
In June 1845 Frank Buckland left Oxford for Giessen,
and remained there three months, studying chemistry with
Professor Liebig.
The daily routine of Giessen life seems to have been :
'Breakfast when anyone chooses, as they do not meet
at that meal. Dinner at 12.30 or 1 o'clock. Tea about 5;
supper about 8.
The students generally work all the
morning and a good part of the afternoon, and in the even-
ing go out for a walk to some neighbouring place, where
they drink beer and eat thick milk. I went last night
with some students and had some of this milk, which is
milk from the cow put into jars, and let stand for two days,
when it becomes quite thick: it is then poured out intɔ a
CHRIST CHURCH
51
soup basin and eaten with sugar and spice; I think it is
very good.'
Sir Benjamin Brodie's son, afterwards Professor of
Chemistry at Oxford, was at that time also working in the
laboratory at Giessen.
The first few weeks were chiefly devoted to acquiring a
sufficient knowledge of German to enable him to profit by
the professor's lectures.
From Giessen he wrote home in June 1845:-
'In the tower of the church is a house where a man
lives whose duty it is to walk round a parapet all night to
watch for fires; he blows his horn frequently to show he is
there, and he has the bells at his command to give alarm if
necessary.'
'At the top of a chimney at the police station is a
stork's nest, and there are three or four young storks who
live up there, and look down on the people with the greatest
confidence: they are almost held sacred. The old storks
are continually seen flying about for food. They don't
mind the smoke, and the sparrows have built their nests
among the twigs of that of the storks, which when seen
from the neighbouring Botanical Gardens looks like a round
faggot. All the countrymen here (Bauers) are dressed in
blue smock frocks, and some of the old fellows wear a kind
of three-cornered hat and knee-breeches, shoes with buckles,
and black stockings. The women are all dressed "Buy-a-
broom" fashion, and wear tremendous bustles and short
petticoats. They gather the hair from all sides of the head
into one plait, which, if they are going to carry anything,
they twist in a circle for a cushion, at other times they keep
it in a kind of little box tied with strings; many of these
E 2
52
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
people have in addition high-heeled shoes, all broad round
faces. There are not many horses here, but the better sort
of peasants drive oxen in their carts, the others cows, which
are more plentiful. These all draw by a rope fastened to
their horns, and certainly do not look comfortable; the
cows are shod. I went out one day shooting in a forest; we
only killed two young rooks. I heard two golden orioles
singing, but could not get near them; I saw two or three
ravens and a kite, jays, and magpies, and a roe. In the
ponds about here are a great many frogs nearly green, but
as large as the common English one. I have not been able
to find any little green ones yet; they are not very common,
I believe. These big green ones make a great noise at
night, and all round Giessen you hear them although some
way off: they live in the water, not on the trees. They
have a pouch by which they make this noise, which is quite
peculiar. I think the stork helps to thin them considerably.
I have told a little strawberry boy to catch me as many as
he can, and also snakes; I hope to import some frogs and
red slugs into England. A man shot a polecat in the forest,
and he has given me the body, which is now in the forest
in a large ants' nest.'
(
In a subsequent letter he writes:-
Somebody has taken away my polecat from the ants'
nest, where I put him in the forest. The storks are quite
well, and they are beginning to learn to fly, by jumping
up into the air and opening their wings. There is a
tame stork kept in the stable of an inn in the country,
which I went to see; an old woman drives him out in the
fields to feed, and home in the evening; he stalks along in
a very dignified manner.'
CHRIST CHURCH
53
The description of a Giessen dinner is as follows :—
'Soup made with pearl-barley or macaroni, followed
by boiled beef (Ochsenfleisch) carved German fashion, i.e.
the joint held down to the plate with a fork, and hunches,
wo or three inches thick, cut off, with perfect indifference
to fat or lean, eaten with oily salad and vegetables smashed
up together these latter very good.'
'July 17.
'There was a large cattle market here the other day :
an immense quantity of cows (all sold in pairs), some very
bad horses, and some bulls. The fair consisted of three
rows of stalls: in one were whips, &c., in another nothing
but caps, and in another cloth, &c., and riband. Many of
the people had come from a great distance. It was rather
a ridiculous sight to see one old man with knee-breeches,
shoes with buckles, and a cocked hat, driving a lot of pigs.
I saw several of these fellows, in the middle of the day,
lying fast asleep with their pigs, by the side of the road.
The pigs have long noses, long legs, and a long mane of
bristles all down their backs. They are kept famously in
order by a dog, who pulls them by the ear if they do
wrong. I saw a dog bring one out from under a cart, and
through a lot of people, to the others, by the ear; he let
him go directly he had come to his brothers.
There were
two rows of about thirty country women, who had each her
basket with some coarse stuff, like sheets, which I suppose
they had made themselves: they sat there with their linen
nearly all day, but did not seem to sell much. When the
Bauers go home from work, they always sing; last night I
heard them in the forest in all directions, singing as they
54
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
returned from the market. It seemed to be a kind of
chant to keep time with their steps.
The anatomist, who lives above me in my lodging,
has got a dog, with a silver tube in his stomach, which
is stopped up with a cork; the object is to get gastric
juice fresh for the lecture; the dog seems very well but
rather unhappy.'
July 29.
'An accident occurred about a week ago at the farm
which Liebig is building about two miles from Giessen.
Two men were digging a well through a hill of sand-
they had got down fifty-two feet, when all of a sudden
down came the sand upon them. One of them saw it
coming, and by dint of immense exertion scrambled up as
it fell, and just got his head into the air; the other poor
fellow was buried. They were discovered in an hour, and
an alarm was given; this was at 8 o'clock. At 10
o'clock I heard that the manganese mines had fallen in
and that fifty men were killed. I rushed off as hard as I
could go; but they told me there that it was at Liebig's
Hill that the accident had taken place; so I rushed back
and got up to Liebig's Hill about 1.30.
number of miners with a windlass and buckets, working
away as fast as possible (they had been working since 9
that morning). Just as I came they found the poor man's
head, but he was quite dead. I then saw them bring him
up in a basket from the bottom; they put him on the
grass and tried to revive him, but of course could not, as
he had been under the sand from 8 till 2. I got close to
him, to see how they treated him. He was carried off to
There I found a
CHRIST CHURCH
55
the cemetery, and rings put on his fingers in such a man-
ner that the least movement would ring a bell. On the
Wednesday following he was buried, and I heard all the
miners were to attend. I went at 9 o'clock to the
cemetery. It was quite dark. The miners formed a long
procession and marched through the town; many
had torches, but those who had not, had their mining
lamps; a band of music preceded them, and altogether it
was a very curious sight. They marched slowly to the
grave, where a ring was formed by the miners, and the
clergyman of the Protestant church advanced and gave a
kind of sermon for a quarter of an hour; the crackling of
the torches and the man's voice were all that could be
heard. They then went home in procession without music.
Liebig was very much affected by the accident: he paid the
expenses of the funeral, and sent his son George to attend
it.'
'August 3.
'I understand much more than I did at first, and
generally manage to get two or three facts out of the
lectures, though of course these intricate combinations,
explained in a language which I must construe in my
mind before I can understand, are rather difficult.
'When a young man begins here, he generally goes
through the course of analysing a set of one hundred bot-
tles, which takes him sometimes a year. These bottles
are various compounds, which he must find out-viz. in
the first ten he has only to find one metal, &c.; in the
second, two metals or substances, &c. ; till at last the high-
est bottles contain six or seven substances, all of which
he must find out. Liebig thought I had better not begin
56
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
these, as I had to learn German, and to stay only a short
time here. However, I think I know more chemistry than
when I came. About 3 o'clock Liebig comes into the
laboratory, and he seems to be able to tell everybody,
whatever they may be doing, what to expect, and how to
proceed.
'I have bought some of the frogs that make such a
noise all about the ponds at Giessen. They are half green,
their legs being brown as the English frogs; I inflated
one and squeezed the air towards his mouth, and out of
the sides of his jaws sprang two bladders. I suppose these
are used to make the curious loud noise for which they are
remarkable.
There was a student's funeral last Friday by torch-
light; there were nearly three hundred torches.
'The students' full dress seems to be, leather breeches
and high boots, a velvet jacket and a sword. Some of
them are very fine fellows. I have bought a book of their
songs. When they returned from the funeral, they made
a bonfire with their torches, and sang a Latin song,
"Gaudeamus igitur juvenes dum sumus," to a very pecu-
liar tune. They also sang a farewell over their comrade's
grave, and a sermon was preached by the professor of
theology, who is quite a young man.
'Returning from the University of Giessen in October
1845, I brought with me,' he wrote,' 'about a dozen green
tree-frogs, which I had caught in the woods near the town.
The Germans call them Laub-Frosch or leaf-frog; they
are most difficult things to find, on account of their colour
so much resembling the leaves on which they live. I have
1 Curiosities of Natural History, first series, p. 15.
CHRIST CHURCH
57
frequently heard one singing in a small bush, and, though
I have searched carefully, have not been able to find him;
the only way is to remain quite quiet till he again begins
his song. After much ambush work, at length I collected
a dozen frogs and put them in a bottle. I started at night
on my homeward journey by the diligence, and I put the
bottle containing the frogs into the pocket inside the
diligence. My fellow-passengers were sleepy cld smoke-
dried Germans. Very little conversation took place, and,
after the first mile, every one settled himself to sleep, and
soon all were snoring. I suddenly awoke with a start,
and found all the sleepers had been roused at the same
moment. On their sleepy faces were depicted fear and
anger. What had woke us all up so suddenly? The
morning was just breaking, and my frogs, though in the
dark pocket of the coach, had found it out, and, with one
accord, all twelve of them had begun their morning song.
As if at a given signal, they one and all of them began to
croak as hard as ever they could. The noise their united
concert made, seemed, in the closed compartment of the
coach, quite deafening: well might the Germans look
angry; they wanted to throw the frogs, bottle and all, out
of the window, but I gave the bottle a good shaking, and
made the frogs keep quiet. The Germans all went to
sleep again, but I was obliged to remain awake to shake
the frogs when they began to croak. It was lucky that I
did so, for they tried to begin their concert again two or
three times. These frogs came safely to Oxford, and, the
day after their arrival, a stupid housemaid took off the top
of the bottle to see what was inside; one of the frogs
croaked at that instant, and so frightened her that she
58
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
dared not put the cover on again. They all got loose in
the garden, where I believe the ducks ate them, for I
never heard or saw them again.'
On November 12, 1845, Frank Buckland's father
was made Dean of Westminster, and was installed on
December 12. In January 1846 Dr. Buckland removed
from Christ Church to the Deanery, Westminster, at the
same time taking the living of Islip, Oxon, which was then
held with the Deanery, and became their country home.
On returning to Giessen in July 1846, Frank writes:-
'July 19.
'I find Giessen just as I left it. The family seemed all
glad to see me, and nothing could be kinder than the
professor in every respect. He has arranged everything
for me very comfortably. He said it would be better to
have some regular lessons in chemistry, so that now I go
every morning to his assistant for an hour. I will put
down what my occupation here now is: 7.30-8.30, chem-
istry; 9-10, German with Dr. Adrian; 10-11, laboratory;
11-1, Liebig's lecture; 1-2.30, dinner. After dinner I
occupy myself with chemistry in the laboratory, or German,
as the case may be, till about 6 or 7. If ever there was a
place to work in, it is Giessen. The people never think
of leaving off work till 6 or 7; whereas in Oxford the
books are shut at the latest at 2 o'clock.
'Liebig invited me to go with him last Friday to the
Braunstein (black oxide of manganese) mines, about three
miles from Giessen. The master of the place met us and
took us over the mine. The metal is very plentiful; it is in
a bed dipping from east to west, as can be seen by the
CHRIST CHURCH
59
depth of the different shafts. In one place they have made
a deep square hole, on one side of which one can see a
beautiful section. The braunstein lies in wavy lines, and
above are clays of many beautiful colours, generally red
with white streaks interposed. Altogether, it presents
the most curious appearance. All these works belong to
a lawyer, who found a bit of the stone and took it to
Liebig, who advised him to buy the land, which he did, and
has now made his fortune. It is sent in barrels down the
Rhine and then by ship to Glasgow and London, to be used
in bleaching linen. Professor Liebig has given me a
beautiful specimen of this manganese covered with black
crystals.
'I went on Saturday to the Säffenburgh Woods with
a party. I slipped away to look at the duelling-place of
the students. It is a little flat piece in the middle of the
wood, and commands a view of all the approaches to it, so
that the fighters cannot be surprised.
'Last Wednesday the town was honoured by a visit
from the son of the Duke of Hesse Darmstadt. This made
a great bustle in the town; all the professors went down
to receive him, and in the evening the tradesmen got up a
Fackelzier or torch-light procession, which had a very good
effect. The Glee Club played under his windows, and
while this was going on I went upon the top of the tower
(where the people look out for fires), and got a capital view
of the whole thing without being pushed about by the
crowd, or having my clothes covered with the droppings of
the torches. While up here, the old man who keeps
watch all night told me that he had just before been very
much alarmed by the whole tower shaking from side to
60
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
side, so much that he thought it would fall, and some
water in a bucket was thrown out on the floor. Well, I
thought some part of the building had probably given
way; but on going down, I found everyone with the word
earthquake on the tip of their tongues. It seems probable
that the whole of the lower part of Giessen, in which the
church stands, was shaken considerably, but that the
upper part was not at all affected. The keeper of the
forest, about three miles off, tells me he observed the rooks
flying about much frightened, and that the people in the
neighbouring villages ran out of their rickety mud and
wood houses, which shook so as to appear about to fall
every moment.
'I cannot bear the thought of the loss of "Freiheit "
at Oxford, after that enjoyed by the students and myself
with them here at Giessen; besides I find the studies so
much more agreeable here than there; but I hope if I live
to make my exam. before next long vacation.'
1;
In September 1846, after a short tour in Switzerland,
Frank Buckland returned to Oxford. He brought with him.
this time a jar full of the red slugs he wished to introduce
into England; they at least were noiseless and would not
croak like frogs. In the opposite corner of the diligence
placidly slumbered a traveller with ample bald head
Frank also slept, but, waking at midnight, he saw with
horror that two of his red slugs had escaped and were
crawling over the traveller's bald pate. What was to be
done? To remove them might waken the sleeper. Frank
sat as it were on tenterhooks until the diligence stopped
at the next stage, when firmly covering up the jar and what
remained of the slugs, he slipped quietly out of the diligence,
CHRIST CHURCH
61
resolved to proceed on his journey by another conveyance
next morning, rather than face that man's awakening.
During his university course Frank constantly attended
the lectures of his father, Dr. Buckland, to whose training
he through life acknowledged himself indebted, and whose
vivid and witty power of expression and illustration he
seemed to inherit.
In May 1848, he took his B.A. degree, and imme-
diately afterwards entered St. George's Hospital.
Two extracts from his 'Private Journal' for 1846-7
show that beneath the surface of character which bubbled
over with fun, there flowed a deep stream of earnest
purpose.
‘July 26, 1846.—My object in studying medicine (and
may God prosper it!) is not to gain a name, money, and
high practice, but to do good to my fellow-creatures and
assist them in the hour of need.'
C
August 9.-My object in life, to be a great high priest
of nature, and a great benefactor of mankind.'
62
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
CHAPTER IV.
ST. GEORGE'S, 1848-1853.
IN May 1848 Frank Buckland left Oxford and commenced
studying surgery at St. George's Hospital, acting first as
dresser to Mr. Tatum and Mr. Cutler, then surgeons to the
hospital. In May 1851 he passed the College of Surgeons.
In May 1852 he became house surgeon at St. George's,
which appointment he held until June 1853.
His unfailing kindliness and love of fun soon made
him a favourite both with the hospital staff and with the
patients. One poor woman greatly troubled at her boy's
thumb being amputated, he soothed, it is said, by persuading
her that Tommy's thumb might grow again; and when she
called to tell him reproachfully that Tommy's thumb had
not yet grown, he could only exhort her to further patience.
He used to say¹ that the cases which were brought into
the accident ward grouped themselves into classes accord-
ing to the hours of the day. The suicides came at an
early hour of the morning; the scaffold accidents next,
since a scaffold, if it gave way at all, gave way early in
the day; the street accidents afterwards, and so on.
One of his patients, he used to tell, an old womau,
came to the hospital with a cough, which she declared
¹ Macmillan's Magazine, 1881, p. 304.
ST. GEORGE'S.
63
nothing would alleviate except some sweet luscious mixture
which another out-patient, a friend of hers, had received.
The old woman was given a bottleful of the mixture, and
returned again and again for more, though her cough got
little better. At last his suspicions were aroused, and he
desired that his patient should be watched. She was
watched, and was found outside Chelsea Hospital selling
the mixture in halfpenny tarts.
Another reminiscence of St. George's was connected
with the practice of tattooing, which, as he used to tell,
'is sometimes adopted by the fair sex of the present
day. Ladies who are about to have the initials of their
sweethearts permanently engraved on their arms should be
careful to make up their minds not to change their sweet-
hearts unless the same initials will suit. When house
surgeon at St. George's, a charming creature came to me
in great distress. She said there was nothing the matter
with her, but she was in great trouble because her young
man had been faithless. He had persuaded her to allow his
initials, with a true lovers' knot, to be tattooed on her arm.
She had quarrelled with him, and was now anxious to erase
all traces of their attachment. The design on the arm
was too big for any operation, and the girl, for aught I
know, still continues to carry about a fine specimen of the
art of tattooing.'
While at St. George's he saw much society at the
Deanery,' which, under the genial hospitality of the Dean
and Mrs. Buckland, had become a centre of scientific and
intellectual society in London.
The following extracts from the Journal for 1849,
which also contains a full detail of his hospital work,
64
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
show both the society he enjoyed, and also how his love
for natural history maintained its hold upon him :—
'New Year's Day.—I will see whether I can be wiser
and better at the end of the year.
January 3.-Lectures began again at St. George's,
with Pitman and Tatum. Hewett began the muscles,
Pollock assisting him.
(
January 4.-Got the office of assisting Pollock in dis-
secting.
'January 12.-Gave Jacko chloroform: very suc-
cessful.
'January 13.—Large microscope party: Dr. Carpenter,
Mr. Bowerbank, Sir B. Brodie, Messrs. Spence, Pollock,
Ogle, the Fittons, Hawes, Forbes, Lady Shelley, Miss
Burdett Coutts, Dr. and Mrs. Playfair, and others.
'January 16.-Man sent me a monkey from Zoological
Gardens.
February 19.-Went all over the top of the Abbey
with Mr. Scott (Sir Gilbert Scott), the new architect.
February 26.-Went to a party at Miss Coutts': Duke
of Wellington, Wheatstone, Lady Chantrey, Monckton
Milnes, and many very great people there.
'March 2.-Saw the man who could sing both treble
and bass at the same time: very curious but very sweet.
March 5.-Went to Dr. Carpenter's party; saw some
objects under the microscope, echinus's spines, horse's hoof,
eel's scales, &c. Went with large party-Mr. and Mrs.
Gladstone, Lady Waldegrave, and Mr. Harcourt, Mrs.
Malcolm, and the Misses Johnson—to see the Nineveh
sculptures (at the British Museum); very beautiful and
interesting.
ST. GEORGE'S
65
March 9.-Party of Huxley, Blagden, Rolfs. Had
the lump fish for dinner: very good, something like turtle.
' March 10.—Rather seedy from the lump fish.
' March 17.—Went with the Dean to British Museum
to see Nineveh remains. Lord and Lady Russell there:
introduced to them. Lord Northampton going round. Sir
H. De la Beche also there.'
' March 19.-Dined with Lord Ellesmere at 18 Bel-
grave Square: beautiful rooms. The Malcolms the only
people there. Much talk with Miss Egerton and Lord
Ellesmere about zoology. Altogether much pleased. Hope
I gave satisfaction. Tried to do so.
'March 23.-Went with the Dean to Mr. Arbuthnot's.
Introduced to the Duke of Wellington by him. Talked
about chloroform and the Nineveh monuments. Saw the
Duke's splendid plate presented by Austria and Belgium.
Prince Albert just leaving as we arrived. Went to the
new Geological Museum with the Harcourts, Lady Walde-
grave, Baroness Rothschild, Lord Norreys, and several
others. Saw some Californian gold.
'March 25.-Huxley stayed in the hospital for me,
while I dined at Sir John Pakington's. Introduced to
Sir Robert Peel, Lord Lincoln, and Lord Aberdeen.
April 1.-E. Forbes, Manby, and a French engineer
came to lunch, also the Whewells, Mr., Mrs., and Miss
Jones Loyd, Colquhoun also. Took the party round the
Abbey. Got locked in: tolled the bell to get out again.
(
(
April 5.-Eagle broke his leg: set it.
May 8.-Archbishop of Dublin (Whately) and Pro-
fessor Owen came to breakfast. Landseer came afterwards
to see the monkey and the eagle.
F
66
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
May 25.-Large luncheon party. Gave the eagle,
the snake, and the fish chloroform: all succeeded.
'May 30.-Bartlett of the Zoological Gardens sent me
a kangaroo and a gazelle to prepare and find cause of
death.'
Among the frequent guests at the Deanery at this time
were Deans Conybeare and Peacock, Sedgwick, De la Beche,
Murchison, Lyell, Lord Enniskillen, and Sir Philip Eger-
ton among geologists, who laid the foundation of the study
of the history of the globe; Sir Humphry Davy and Fara-
day, who analysed its composition and explored its subtler
forces; Edward Forbes, Owen, Quekett, and Hooker, emi-
nent in different branches of the study of animal and
vegetable life; Sir John Herschel, Airy, and Whewell
among astronomers and mathematicians; Brunel and
Robert Stephenson among engineers; Bunsen, Guizot,
Liebig, and Agassiz among foreign savants; Archbishop
Whately, Ruskin, Rogers, Nassau Senior, Mrs. Somerville,
Lady Shelley, and Mrs. Marcet represented literature;
Lord Brougham, Sir Robert Peel, Lord John Russell, Lord
Monteagle, Lord Northampton, and others, politics; Lady
Franklin came with the Arctic explorers Scoresby, Richard-
son, and Maclintock, and Inglefield, who took with him a
detachment of white rats from the Deanery to the Polar
regions. These and many more formed an intellectual and
scientific society the brilliance of which few are left to
remember.
The menagerie at the Deanery was also extensive. As
visitors entered the hall and passed thence to the Abbey,
the stuffed forms of Billy the hyæna and Tiglath Pileser
the bear seemed prowling about the passage. Snakes were
ST. GEORGE'S
67
kept in a glass case or in extemporaneous cages, whence
they sometimes strayed, and were met casually on the
stairs, to the alarm of those visitors whose department of
science did not enable them readily to distinguish between
the venomous and harmless species.
The eagle had come to London from Islip, and now
lived on a pole in the small garden of the Deanery, whence
on the 10th of April, 1848, the day of Chartist riot, he
escaped, and soared aloft over the Abbey, as is fully re-
lated in 'Curiosities of Natural History.''
Jacko had also migrated from Islip, and chattered from
his pole in the middle of the kitchen, where he rejoiced
in plentiful blackbeetles, and occasionally assisted the
servants, in their absence, by scouring the candlesticks.
with black lead, and the kitchen table with cochineal, or,
with mistaken zeal, filling the inside of the shoes with
blacking.2
Another large ape, Jenny, caught when quite young on
the rock of Gibraltar, joined the party in 1849, and
used to lift up her hideous face and kiss her master with
great profession of affection. Medicine Jenny would only
take if stolen. Her master poured it out as if for himself,
and pretended to sleep, when the monkey would stealthily
approach and sip up what she imagined to be her master's
wine.
Hedgehogs, tortoises, dogs, cats-especially a tailless
Manx cat, with one blue and one green eye-rats, bats,
hawks, owls, and an aviary of various birds, chameleons
and other lizards, bowls of gold fish, and water newts,
completed the collection.
¹ Second series, p. 102.
2 First series, p. 291.
F 2
68
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
The rats, often fifty or sixty in number, black, brown,
white, and piebald, were usually kept in the cellar. Se-
lected white rats were brought up at evening parties for
the amusement or torment of the visitors.
Snakes were
often brought out on these occasions. Frank would pro-
duce them from his pocket, or gliding out of his sleeve.
'Don't be afraid,' said he one evening to a young lady
who sat down to play quadrilles; 'they won't hurt you:
I've taken out their fangs. Now do be a good girl, and don't
make a fuss;' and, after a little more persuasion, proceeded
to wreathe one snake round her neck, and one round each
arm, with which unwonted ornaments she continued to play
the dances. His sisters were so often bedecked with
similar reptilian necklaces and armlets, that they became
used to the somewhat clammy, crawling sensation, which
is a drawback to such ornaments.
Chloroform was at this time a recent invention, and
the Dean gave several luncheon parties, at which, with
Frank's assistance, the effects of the new anesthetic were
tried on various animals.
The eagle was sent to sleep, and could be lifted up by
his feet, like a dead bird; or, when half asleep, was walked
round the room by two persons, holding him by his wings.
One day the eagle was slowly recovering from his stupor,
and walking unsteadily upon the floor, when Jacko was
brought in to take his turn. He came in with a suspicious
and melancholy expression, expecting that something was
going to take place; but when he saw the intoxicated
condition of his old enemy the eagle, he jumped out of his
master's arms with a scream of delight, and seizing the
eagle by the tail, paid off old scores by dragging him
ST. GEORGE'S
69
about the room backwards in a most ludicrous and un-
dignified manner; nor was Jacko secured again till he had
espied the bowl of gold fish and thrown them all about
the room. Jacko chattered pitifully, however, when his
turn came, and then he succumbed. The gold fish, when
blotting paper soaked in chloroform was suspended over
their bowl, turned on their backs, appearing lifeless until
revived with fresh water; the snakes also seemed to die,
and come again to life.
Frank's training for the acclimatisation of animals for
food, to which he afterwards devoted much energy, began
early.
At his father's table at Christ Church the viands were
varied. A horse belonging to his brother-in-law having
been shot, Dr. Buckland had the tongue pickled and served
up at a large luncheon party, and the guests enjoyed it
much, until told what they had eaten.
Alligator was a rare delicacy, as told in the first volume
of 'Curiosities,' but puppies were occasionally, and mice
frequently eaten. So also at the Deanery, hedgehogs,
tortoise, potted ostrich, and occasionally rats, frogs, and
snails, were served up for the delectation of favoured
guests. 'Party at the Deanery,' one guest notes; 'tripe
for dinner; don't like crocodile for breakfast.'
In the autumn of 1849 Frank Buckland went for two.
months to Paris, to study at the hospitals there in time of
cholera. On July 31 he' packed for Paris, put in skeletons
to make,' and started the following day, August 1, travelling
via Winchester, Havre, and Rouen.
From Paris he wrote home on August 6:-
'At Havre I saw a great crowd in the street; I found
70
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
they were looking at a star; it was twelve o'clock in the
day. There the star was plain enough, only it required
good eyes to see it.' I acted as lioniser to an Englishman
with his two sons. You may judge what a talented man
he was from the observation he made to me, that there
were a great many gambling houses in Havre; I did not
understand, and asked him why. He answered, because
he saw written on many houses Chambres à louer. This
he considered connected with cards.
'On Friday evening I went by rail to Rouen. I spent
four hours in the museums of zoology and antiquities, and
was charmed with them, and have learnt much from the
old curator. In the street I saw an old woman selling
fruit; in her lap was a parrot, which gave the alarm when-
ever anyone came to look at the fruit. The woman was
asleep under an umbrella tied to the back of her chair.
The parrot seemed to know its work, and required to be
caressed when the old woman awoke. This would make a
good picture. I arrived in Paris late Saturday night.
On Sunday evening, at Versailles, I met two St. George's
men; they put me in the way of everything at once,
so I have lost no time; I have been this morning round
the wards of La Charité, and have begun a course
of operations on the dead body, yet I have hardly been
here twenty-four hours. Only think, we have a fresh
subject every day, and may perform any operation we like.
(
'August 21.
My medical studies take up so much of my attention
that I have not seen anything except the Louvre and the
Venus is often visible to the naked eye in the daytime.
ST. GEORGE'S
71
Exposition; for you know most things close at four, and I
have not finished my operations till 2.30, when I don't feel
ready for sight-seeing. The French students are intelli-
gent for the most part, but don't work like Germans.
'September 11.
'I have been into all the curiosity shops here, but as
yet have seen nothing good enough to buy for the
Hunterian Museum. I have, however, made several notes
of little things not known in London. They have a
peculiar art of making preparations here to show the
arteries and muscles: this I pumped out of the demonstra-
tor at the operating room, and, if I can get a chance, I shall
buy a small one for a specimen. The operations are still
going on. I have tied all the arteries several times, and
performed all the amputations and resections of the bones,
the most difficult of all. I feel great confidence now in
my hands, a pleasant sensation, such as before I had not
experienced. I frequently go round the wards of La
Charité. I have been to Montmartre and found several
good crystals there; they do not work the quarries now,
but the view from the windmills is magnificent. I have
two more weeks to stay here. I intend to take a little
holiday and see Grenelle and more museums.
I shall try
hard to get into the Catacombs, but this is difficult. One
day I must go to Alport to see the hospital for animals,
horses, dogs, &c., and another day to see the horse
slaughter-house.
'If I have time I shall go to Fontainebleau ; but I take
Burchell's advice, which he gave me about travelling, i.e.
to follow up one subject in sight-seeing. Museums must
72
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
be my line, and if I have time for other things, so much
the better, but my own trade first.'
On his return to England his selection of souvenirs of
Paris for himself and his friends, as shown by his Journal,
is characteristic.
'September 21.-Bought a beautiful skull and some
books for J. Ogle; bought a little owl rare in England.
22.-Bought another owl.'
The following are further extracts from the same
Journal:-
"October 8.-Set the owl's leg again.
'October 11.-Went to Terton to see Noel: introduced
to his family. Saw Jenny the monkey, which they gave me.
' October 12.—Raining hard; walked about in the park ;
found a mole in a trap; looked over Mrs. Noel's collection;
some curious things-shells, minerals, mantis, &c. Took the
monkey home; put her in the stable; went to hear Dr.
Mantell's lecture on Corals: amusing and instructive.
'October 14.-Monkey got loose; trouble to catch her
again.
October 15.-Put the monkey on her pole; good place
for her.
'October 17.-The Prince of Canino, Professor Owen,
and Sir C. Trevelyan breakfasted with us. Round the
Abbey; very much amused. The Prince very like his uncle,
sharp and intelligent. He put new names to my owls.
'October 24.-Pollock came to see Jenny; killed a cat
for the eagle; Jenny eats grass.
'October 26.-Jenny got loose; great trouble to catch
her; she ran all along the roofs of the houses in Dean Street,
and at last ran home.'
ST. GEORGE'S
73
The history of the chase is narrated in 'Curiosities of
Natural History.'1
• November 4.-The owl died. Saw Dr. Mantell's bones
of a new large Wealden lizard.
'November 19.-Prince Albert came to the Abbey
with Colonel Gordon and Colonel Grey. Saw the Royal
Monuments, said they were the worst in the place; I
carried the keys, and he talked with me about the German
students.
'December 8.--Went with Pollock to the Zoological
Gardens saw the new snake house; saw the boa eat a
rabbit; heard the rattlesnake's rattle going, saw some of
Cleopatra's asps, and some very young slow-worms. Owen
to give a lecture next Tuesday upon the rhinoceros that
has died.
'December 11.—Went to the Zoological to hear Owen's
paper on the rhinoceros; talk with Mr. Mitchell about
the rhinoceros.
'December 12.-Sent my owl to the Zoological
Gardens.
'December 17.-Dined with Lord Chief Baron Pollock
and family; very pleasant party. Saw the microscope,
and learned about his wells, &c. He says he is an
encyclopædist, and he seems to know everything.
December 26.—Went to the Museum at Oxford; there
a long time; begin to appreciate the collection there.'
In 1850, a short trip to Guernsey with Professor
Huxley, then his fellow-student at St. George's, varied his
professional studies.
In 1851, the year of the Great Exhibition, Professor
First series, p. 311.
74
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
Liebig and many other foreign savants visited the
Deanery.
In this year the pendulum experiment, first tried in
France in 1845, to render visible the rotation of the earth,
was exhibited at the Polytechnic. Dean Buckland, with
Frank's assistance, suspended a weight from the roof of the
nave of Westminster Abbey, opposite to the entrance from
the Deanery, to show the same experiment, which was an
object of much scientific interest. The pendulum appears
in the course of the day to traverse the circuit of a dial
placed beneath it, the dial in fact rotating with the motion.
of the earth, the pendulum maintaining one constant
direction.
In the same year Frank Buckland made his first
attempt at authorship, but an unsuccessful one; the paper
was upon the muscles of the arm, and had the approval of
Professor Owen. The Diary records successive visits in
June, July, and August to different publishers, none of
whom would accept the article.
In the following year, 1852, his first article was
published, as thus described by his old friend Mr. White
Cocper, the Queen's oculist :-
'In the spring of 1852, when calling at the Deanery,
Frank asked me to go downstairs and see his rats.
I am
not particularly partial to those animals; but down we went
to a sort of cloister, in which probably a dozen rats were
encaged: these Frank took out one by one, and described
in a most interesting way the habits and peculiarities of
each. Presently a large black rat bolted. "Look out! he
bites!" said Frank, but the black gentleman was speedily
secured by a bag being thrown over him.
ST. GEORGE'S
75
'When I had seen all that was to be seen, I said, "Frank,
just you put down on paper all that you have told me
about these rats, add what you please, let me have the
manuscript, and I will see whether something cannot be
made out of it.' Frank demurred, saying that he did
not think he could write anything worth reading.
""
'After some encouragement, he promised to comply with
my request, and in due time the manuscript arrived;
having touched it up a little, I took it to Mr. Richard
Bentley, with whom I was well acquainted, and said, "Mr.
Bentley, I am going to introduce a new contributor to your
Miscellany; one who will strike out quite an original line.”
Mr. Bentley was not greatly impressed by what I said, but
accepted the MS., which appeared as an article in the
Miscellany of the following August; and thus commenced
the interesting series, subsequently collected and published
as "Curiosities of Natural History."
'Frank often said that the "honorarium " he received
from Mr. Bentley for "Rats" was the most delightful sur-
prise he had ever had. The article in "Curiosities" has
been considerably expanded beyond its original limits in
Bentley.'
The success of the article on Rats led to the publication
in the following year of several articles in 'Bentley's Mis-
cellany' and 'Household Words.'
These events
In 1853 he left St. George's Hospital.
are noticed in his Diary of this year, which also contains
the first entry of casting, the beginning of that remarkable
series of casts which forms the chief part of his museum
at South Kensington.
'February 1, 1853.-Article on Cobra in "Bentley."
76
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
(
'May 21.-Did much of the Monkey paper.
May 26.—Took my Monkey article to Bentley.
'June 29.- Gave up the house surgeoncy at St.
George's.
(
(
July 14.--Wrote article about "Old Bones."
""
'August 30.-Took my article "Old Bones" to Dickens.
September 12.-Wrote out article on "Parasites
from 11 to 3.
October 5.-Wrote out article on "Curiosities at
Oxford" for "Household Words."
'October 10.-Made cast of girl's head, and of Ben
Jonson's head; also made mould of rat's body.
· October 11.-Up to the Zoological Gardens, and gave
the ant-eater some ants, which he would not touch.
·
October 12.-Up to the Gardens with six rats; gave
them, two to eagle, one to mongoose, two to rattlesnakes,
and one to cobra; got poisoned afterwards in skinning the
rat.'
The accident with cobra poison, which well-nigh proved
fatal to him, he thus described:-1
'I once had painful experience of the awful effects of
snake's poison. I have received a dose of the cobra's
poison into my system, luckily a minute dose, or I should
not have survived it. The accident happened in a very
curious way: I was poisoned by the snake, but not bitten
by him; I got the poison second-hand. Anxious to witness
the effects of the poison of the cobra upon a rat, I took up
a couple in a bag alive to a certain cobra; I took one rat
out of the bag and put him into the cage with the snake.
1 Curiosities of Natural History, first series, p. 223.
ST. GEORGE'S
77
The cobra was coiled up among the stones in the centre of
the cage, apparently asleep. When he heard the noise of
the rat falling into the cage, he just looked up and put out
his tongue, hissing at the same time. The rat got into a
corner and began washing himself, keeping one eye on the
snake, whose appearance he evidently did not half like.
Presently the rat ran across the snake's body, and in an
instant the latter assumed his fighting attitude. As the
rat passed the snake he made a dart, but missing his aim,
hit his nose a pretty hard blow against the side of the
cage. This accident seemed to anger him, for he spread
out his crest, and waved it to and fro in the beautiful
manner peculiar to his kind. The rat became alarmed,
and ran near him again. Again the cobra made a dart
and bit him, but did not, I think, inject any poison into
him, the rat being so very active; at least no symptoms of
poisoning were shown. The bite nevertheless aroused the
ire of the rat, for he gathered himself up for a spring, and,
measuring his distance, sprang right on to the neck of the
cobra, who was waving about in front of him. This plucky
rat, determined to die hard, gave the cobra two or three
severe bites in the neck; the snake keeping his body
erect all the time, and endeavouring to turn his head round
to bite the rat, who was clinging on, like the old man in
"Sindbad the Sailor." Soon, however, the cobra changed his
tactics. Tired, possibly, with sustaining the weight of the
rat, he lowered his head, and the rat finding himself again
on terra firma, tried to run away; not so, for the snake,
collecting all his force, brought down his erected poison
fangs, making his head felt by its weight in giving vigour
78
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
to the blow, right on to the body of the rat. This poor beast
now seemed to know that the fight was over, and that he
was conquered. He retired to a corner of the cage, and
began panting violently, endeavouring at the same time
to steady his failing strength with his feet. His eyes were
widely dilated, and his mouth open as if gasping for breath.
The cobra stood erect over him, hissing and putting out
his tongue, as if conscious of victory. In about three minutes.
the rat fell quietly on his side and expired. The cobra
then moved off and took no further notice of his defunct
enemy. About ten minutes afterwards the rat was hooked
out of the cage for me to examine. No external wound
could I see anywhere, so I took out my knife and began
taking the skin off the rat. I soon discovered two very
minute punctures, like small needle holes, in the side of
the rat where the fangs of the snake had entered. The
parts between the skin and the flesh, and the flesh itself,
appeared as though affected with mortification, even though
the wound had not been inflicted above a quarter of an
hour, if so much.
'Anxious to see if the skin itself was affected, I
scraped away the parts on it with my finger-nail. Finding
nothing but the punctures, I threw the rat away, and put
the knife and skin in my pocket, and started to go away.
I had not walked a hundred yards before, all of a sudden,
I felt just as if somebody had come behind me and struck
me a severe blow on the head and neck, and at the same
time I experienced a most acute pain and sense of oppres-
sion at the chest, as though a hot iron had been run in
and a hundredweight put on the top of it. I knew
instantly, from what I had read, that I was poisoned. 1
ST. GEORGE'S
79
said as much to my friend, a most intelligent gentleman,
who happened to be with me, and told him, if I fell, to
give me brandy and eau-de-luce, words which he kept
repeating in case he might forget them.
At the same
He
time I enjoined him to keep me going, and not on any
account to allow me to lie down. I then forgot every-
thing for several minutes, and my friend tells me I rolled
about as if very faint and weak. He also informs me that
the first thing I did was to fall against him, asking him
if I looked seedy. He most wisely answered, "No, you
look very well." I don't think he thought so, for his own
face was as white as a ghost; I recollect this much.
tells me my face was of a greenish yellow colour. After
walking, or rather staggering along, for some minutes, I
gradually recovered my senses, and steered for the nearest
chemist's shop. Rushing in, I asked for eau-de-luce. Of
course he had none, but my eye caught the words "spiritus
ammoniæ," or hartshorn, on a bottle. I reached it down
myself, and pouring a large quantity into a tumbler with a
little water, both of which articles I found on a soda-water
stand in the shop, drank it off, though it burnt my mouth.
and lips very much. Instantly I felt relief from the
pain at the chest and head. The chemist stood aghast,
and on my telling him what was the matter, recommended
a warm bath. If I had then followed his advice, these
words would never have been placed on record.
second draught at the hartshorn bottle, I proceeded on my
way, feeling very stupid and confused.
After a
"On arriving at my friend's residence, close by, he
kindly procured me a bottle of brandy, of which I drank
four large wine-glasses one after the other, but did not
80
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
feel the least tipsy after the operation.
Feeling nearly
well, I started on my way home, and then, for the first time,
perceived a most acute pain under the nail of the left
thumb; this pain also ran up the arm. I set to work to
suck the wound, and then found out how the poison had
got into the system. About an hour before I examined
the dead rat, I had been cleaning the nail with a penknife,
and had slightly separated the nail from the skin beneath.
Into this little crack the poison had got when I was
scraping the rat's skin to examine the wound. How viru-
lent, therefore, must the poison of the cobra be! It
already had been circulated in the body of the rat, from
which I had imbibed it second-hand.'
'I saw him a day or two after the occurrence,' Mr.
White Cooper says; 'he looked ill, and had not recovered
from the effects of the cobra poison. There is little doubt
that his "pluck," his presence of mind in telling his friend
what to do, and the fortunate circumstance of his obtain-
ing ammonia so quickly, saved his life.'
Other articles on the Ant-eater, on Fish, and on Foot-
steps appeared this year.
In December 1853, Frank Buckland gave his first
lecture. Few have excelled him in the power of conveying at
once information and amusement. He inherited from his
father the faculty of investing a subject, dry in other hands
(and how dry lectures often are), with a vivid and pictur-
esque interest, and to this he added a variety of subject and
a fund of droll yet apt illustration peculiarly his own.
'I can't get on,' he used to say, 'until I make them
laugh; then we are all right.' His drollery was irresist-
ST. GEORGE'S
81
ible, yet was always informing; while his vehement ear-
nestness, and alternation of the serious with the humorous,
never failed to arrest attention.
The subject of his first lecture, which was several times
repeated, was 'The House we Live in.' It was first
delivered at a Working Men's Coffee House and Institute,
established by his mother, in Westminster, one of the
earliest opened in London. After describing with fertile
illustration this excellent house, well fitted up, with no
taxes to pay, its pillars and various apartments, the doors
and hinges; the front door, the mouth, with the nose as a
porter, always on duty except when he has a cold; the
windows, the furniture and covering, the pumping appa-
ratus with arteries and veins as pipes; the grand set of
sewers; and the telegraph from the mayor and council in
the brain; he thus concluded:-'Many facts which I have
mentioned you are doubtless acquainted with; some may
be new to you. If, by chance, you have learned anything
as regards your own house, I would beg you to ponder
over and consider it well. We are all too careless, much
too careless, of our bodies. We know not, or, if we do
know, we consider not, upon what a slight thread our
lives depend. We are all careful of a delicately con-
structed watch, or other fragile specimen of human handi-
work: how careless are we of our own much more deli-
cately constructed bodies; a slight cord snaps, a small
artery gives way, our real selves, the immortal part of
us, our soul, in an instant quits its mortal tenement, and
what remains is but clay. Let this warning remain fixed
in our minds, but at the same time let us look upon our
G
82
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
bodies, each upon his own body, and from his own body to
those of inferior animals, as examples of the great Creator's
handiwork, that great Creator, so omnipotent, so wise, so
benevolent to all here assembled, to all mankind, to all
creation.'
83
CHAPTER V.
THE LIFE GUARDS, 1854-1858.
ON August 14, 1854, Frank Buckland was gazetted
assistant surgeon to the Second Life Guards.
In the same month he became a member of the
Athenæum Club; his election at the age of twenty-seven
showing his popularity, and that his original power was
already recognised.
The late Mr. Broderip, a good naturalist, and old
friend of Dean Buckland, wrote as follows to Mrs. Buckland,
in September 1854-
'I thought Frank's admission into the Athenæum of
great consequence to him, and exerted myself accordingly
and attended at the ballot, notwithstanding an inflamed
eye, and that it would have been better for me to be in
bed. Brodie was there doing his duty manfully, like a
good man and true as he is.
'Permit me, in reply to your observations, to remind
you that, in order to get employment, your son must
be known. It is something to have his name, education,
and profession suspended for a week in the meeting-room
of such a club as the Athenæum, with an overflow of some
of the best names in London to answer for him. It is
something more to be elected at a season when there has
been more black-balling going on than I ever remember
;
G 2
84
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
nay, on the very night of his election, when one candidate
was certainly so excluded, and another, I believe, with-
drawn. I hope, and expect, that Frank is made of the
stuff that is not fit for ledger work, and I should be very
sorry to see him in partnership with anyone.
Others as
well as myself will be very much out, if he does not even-
tually occupy a high position in his profession; and it is
much better that he should bide his time. I do not
object to a surgeoncy in the Guards to begin with.
'Your sincere friend,
'W. F. BRODERIP."
He retained his commission in the Guards until 1863.
living by turns at the cavalry barracks at Knightsbridge
and Albany Street in London, and at Windsor.
Popular alike with officers and men, he was un-
remittingly kind to the sick, yet strict in enforcing dis-
cipline.
His keen perception, which gave him sound diagnosis,
and his taste for physiology and surgery, might have led
to distinction, had he given himself up to the medical pro-
fession; but his passion for natural history absorbed him
more and more, and his duties as assistant surgeon in the
Life Guards could not fully develope his powers, or satisfy
his aspirations; he had not yet found his proper career,
and while he did his work earnestly and well, he was
conscious that his natural bent drew him aside from his
present calling. 'I think,' he wrote in 1857, 'I am getting
too much into the natural history line. I must take in the
medical papers and write for them also, for I shall get
much knowledge from them.' At this date natural history
THE LIFE GUARDS
85
seemed to him an amusement, though earnestly studied;
it became his life's work.
While in the Guards he continued to write articles for
'Bentley's Miscellany,' 'Household Words,' the 'Leisure
Hour,' and other magazines.
Materials of every variety, his mind, singularly alert,
was always gathering, and these were stored in numerous
note-books.
'Passing thoughts are fleeting; down with them in the
note-book; paper is cheap enough.'
He also, as his Journal of 1855 records, 'cut out and
put together many scraps for my newspaper-book, hoping
they will turn out useful in the article line."
This habit, persevered in through life, of collecting all
kinds of scraps of information, and carefully indexing
them, aided by keen powers of observation and a re-
tentive memory, enabled him, both in conversation and
writing, to discuss and illustrate almost every subject with
a readiness and resource always remarkable.
In 1855, he was presented to the Queen, at the levee,
by Lord Seaton, the colonel of the Second Life Guards.
On June 7 of the same year, he went from Windsor
to Oxford, to attend the funeral of Dean Gaisford. His
account of it curiously shows how the pursuit of natural
history was interwoven with each incident of his life.
'
'Went to the pond,' his Journal notes, and caught
some fine lizards for the Zoological Gardens. In the
evening went up to Oxford.'
1
The scene at Oxford he thus described: '-' When in
the month of June, 1855, the greatest Greek scholar of
1 Curiosities of Natural History, second series, p. 235.
86
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
his day, the Rev. Dr. Gaisford, Dean of Christ Church, was
carried to his last resting-place within the walls of the
ancient Cathedral over which he had presided so many
years, the students of the "house," clad in white surplices,
preceded the remains of their venerated Dean, as the pro-
cession passed along the east side of the quadrangle from
the Deanery to the Cathedral. Great Tom had, by tolling
every minute, announced the decease, and now a small
hand-bell, carried in front of the procession by the Dean's
verger and tolled every half-minute, announced that the
last rites were about to take place. I was of course
present at the funeral, and a most impressive sight it was.
‹ The Cathedral clock struck four; the usual merry peal
of bells for evening prayers was silent. I strolled towards
the Cathedral, and finding a side door open, walked in. The
dull, harsh, and grating sound of the workmen filling up
the grave struck heavily on my ears as it resounded through
the body of the church. The mourners were all gone ;
and alone at the head of the grave, watching vacantly the
busy labourers, stood the white-headed old verger; another
hour, the ground would be all levelled, and the stones re-
placed over the master he had served faithfully so many
years. The verger informed me that the ground now
opened had not been moved for 200 years, and that a Dean
had not been buried within the precincts of the church
for nearly one hundred years. Bearing these facts in mind, I
poked about among the earth which had been thrown out
of the grave. I found among the brickbats and rubbish a
few broken portions of human bones, which had evidently
been buried very many years; but, fastened on to one of
the brickbats, I discovered a little bone which I at once
THE LIFE GUARDS
87
pronounced not to be human. It was a little round bone,
about the size of a large shirt-stud, from the centre of which
projected a longish tooth-like spine, the end of which still
remained as sharp as a needle, and the enamel which
covered it still resisted a scratch from a knife. The actual
body of the bone was very light and brittle, and a simple test
I applied showed that it had been underground very many
years.'
The bone proved to be a spine from the back of a large
thornback, and gave rise to a meditation, pleasantly told,
upon the monkish inhabitants of Christ Church in olden
time; their fast days and fish suppers, and the kitchen
midden or refuse heap of the monkish cook before the days
of Henry VIII., on which this fish-bone had doubtless
been thrown three centuries ago.
In 1856 he began to write regularly for the 'Field'
newspaper, and continued to do so until 1865.
He continued occasionally his experiments in casting,
as his Journal shows:
'June 18, 1855.-Made casts of rats, &c., in lead.
'May 8, 1856.-Modelled the mare's head in clay from
drain.'
The mare had died, and was partly dissected in the
stable-yard.
'Where is the surgeon-major?' enquired the colonel on
the day of the dissection.
'Inside the charger, your honour,' promptly replied the
sentry.
On August 16, 1856, his father, Dean Buckland, died,
and was buried at Islip.
'I felt the blow very much, standing over the grave.'
88
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
The sale of the Dean's library and private collection
gave much occupation at the end of the year 1856 and dur-
ing 1857. The geological collection had been given to the
Oxford University and forms the chief part of the Geo-
logical Museum there.
In 1857 the first series of Curiosities of Natural History,'
collecting and enlarging articles already written, was pub-
lished by Bentley.
The originality and humour of the book, the odd yet
varied stores of information, and droll fertility of illustration
made it at once popular, and established his reputation as
an author; several successive editions rapidly followed each
other.
Other literary work was continued, facile in style, yet
prepared with much pains, by field observation and museum
study, as these extracts from his Diary show:
'January 3, 1857.-Went to Madame Tussaud.
'Account in the paper about my putting my head into
the guillotine.
January 14.-Wrote to the "Field" about malforma-
tion in rabbit's mouth.
'January 22.-Colonel Ogilvie complimented me upon
my letter to the "Field" about the rabbit's teeth, and said
it was a pity that a man who could write like that should
waste his time in the Life Guards.
'February 8.-Dined at Mess. Lord Yarborough and
others also dined. Afterwards gaye a sort of lecture about
the jack's head, coprolites, fish, &c.
6
February 10.-Went to Owen's lecture on the Ant-
eater at the Zoological Gardens. Saw Owen, who fastened
the article on Rats in the "Quarterly" on me.
THE LIFE GUARDS
89
'February 16.-Went to see the whale at Whitechapel ;
not a very large one; only the skin, the bones all thrown
away. Gave the man a lecture about it. Put him in the
way of showing it at the Surrey Gardens.
C
C
February 17.-Wrote article on the Whale.
February 19.-To College of Surgeons to see Quekett
about the whale. Made notes at the College.
'February 21.-Finished article on Whale and took it
to "Household Words."
March 20-21.-Read much in Athenæum about
rats, &c. To College of Surgeons, Bush's lecture. Took
notes of rats at the College. Finished article on the
Geological Auction for the "Quarterly."
April 12.-St. Leonards. Went out before breakfast
at low tide; found a few things; plenty of doreys; pecu-
liar markings in the sand, very curious. After breakfast
out with Quekett along the shore; picked up several cuttle-
fish and made interesting observations; with Daubeny and
him to call upon the Dean of Ely and upon Sir Woodbine
Parish. Curious markings in sandstone examined.
'May 13.-Bought vivarium at Covent Garden for 17.;
fitted it up with lizards.
'May 20.-Made skeleton of adder's head all the morn-
ing. Took the puff adder in a basket to the College of
Surgeons; inoculated a bird and a guinea-pig with the
poison from the dissected puff adder. All the morning
made out the poison apparatus beautifully.
(
May 23.-Worked all the day at the boa constrictor,
inflating his intestines. Mr. Stone gave me wourali poison
(used by South American Indians to poison arrows shot
from their blow-pipes).
90
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
May 27.-Poisoned the thrush with wourali.
May 31.-Tried experiments with the wourali poison
on two frogs; they died wounded in the leg, but it re-
quired several minutes to kill them. This poison placed
on the skin did not affect them at all.
'June 2.-To Weybridge to see Lady Easthope: found
curious larvæ of dragon-fly on the posts and bushes;
caught one half out, another quite out. Numerous ants'
nests and eggs. Saw one viper, but could not catch him.
'June 11.-To the College; took dragon-flies and cases
there.
'June 14.-Lunch with Lady Ogilvie. Frogs for lunch;
very good.
'June 29.-Dined with Bentley. Met there Hans
Christian Andersen, the Danish poet and novelist ; also
Charles Kean's manager, and Dr. Doran. Pleasant party.
6
July 6.-To Cremorne Gardens to see an exhibition of
magnetism. Young girl twelve years old magnetises her
brothers; great humbug; examined the people when in
magnetic state; not uniformly stiff. The iron-lifting
done entirely by knack. The people go determined to
believe what they see.
6
July 10.-To see the nondescript or hairy woman at
Regent Street Gallery; her face is covered with hair, also
her arms and body. She is apparently a Mexican.
(
July 11.-To the College; worked hard collecting
material for article on the hairy woman.
'July 15.-Finished article on Julia Pastrana, the hairy
woman.
'July 22.-Spent two hours at the College of Surgeons
working up article on Fish, &c.
THE LIFE GUARDS
91
C
August 30.-Drove down to Professor Owen, met
there a Russian colonel of engineers, walked in the park,
found lizards with their branchiæ and a hare with ticks
behind his neck. Professor Owen gave me a tarantula in
its nest.
'November 2.-To Ratcliff Highway. Saw Jamrach's
tiger and little elephant and bears, and a tub full of
tortoises.
'November 3.-To Millwall to see the big ship Levia-
than launched. She unfortunately stuck fast, one of the
chains having broken, and the stern going down farther
than the bows.
· November 28.—To Portland. Walked up all over the
quarries; found a man to lionise us, got from him and the
quarries a capital section. Saw several fossil trees, but few
birds'-nests (fossil Zamia). Saw a hollow with ox bones in
it, all pretty perfect.
'November 30.-Poor dear mother died at St. Leonards
at 11 P.M.
'December 12.-Made notes for poor man's market.
'December 15.-Called upon Quekett. Letter from
"Field "wanting me to write weekly for them.
'December 17.—My birthday. Thirty-one years ago, at
6 A.M., I came into the world at the old house in Christ-
church Quadrangle. I am now about half-way across the
stage of life, and thank God I am just beginning to feel
my feet. But oh! what I have lost since last birthday,
the best friend a man can have in the world, his
mother.
'December 21.-Dissected mole with view to papers in
the "Field."
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
'December 26.—Weighed roe of jack; 42,450 eggs in
it. Wrote to the "Field" about it.'
In February 1858 Frank Buckland gave his first
lecture at the South Kensington Museum, on Horn, Hair,
and Bristles, being one of a series of six lectures addressed
to working men.
(
February 4, 1858.-Drove about collecting things for
the lecture. Hope it will go off well, but it is hard work
this mental and bodily labour.
February 5.-In dog-cart nearly all day collecting
things.
(
February 6.-Drove to the Museum to get things out
of the cases.
(
February 8. My lecture at South Kensington
Museum on Horn, Hair, and Bristles. Did not get the
room till three, and then only got two carpenters to help
me; was tired, in consequence, before the lecture began.
The room quite full, but when I came out to lecture I
could see no one. Rather nervous at first, but they
tell me I did well, and was amusing as well as instruc-
tive. Of course I want practice. A heap of people
there, who all said they were much pleased. Received
many congratulations afterwards. Am thankful for
success.'
The Diary of 1858 also mentions his breakfasting with
Mr. (now Sir) Lyon Playfair to meet Dr. Livingstone; being
introduced to Lord Palmerston by Sir Roderick Murchison,
at the Jermyn Street Museum, and lunching with George
Stephenson.
On May 6, 1858, Frank Buckland visited Paris for a
week; his notes differ widely from those of the ordinary
THE LIFE GUARDS
93
tourist. 'Saw a wonderful number of rats in the streets.
8th.-Went to the Jardin des Plantes, and over the gal-
leries of zoology; wonderful place. 9th.-Went to the
races in the Bois de Boulogne; saw the Emperor; English-
men cried hurrah! Frenchmen could not make it out at
all. 12th.--Went to the fish-market to buy frogs. To
the Jardin des Plantes; saw there M. Milne Edwards, and
heard a lecture. Bought lizards. 13th.-Left Paris at
8, home by 10.30. 14th.-Sorted edible frogs, green tree-
frogs, and lizards, of which I brought home fourteen from
Paris.'
J
The frogs and lizards he exhibited on his homeward
journey, turning them loose in the railway carriage for the
amusement of some friends who happened to be his
fellow travellers, but to the doubtful enjoyment of the
ladies of the party.
The literary work of 1858 included eighteen papers on
various subjects, a second and third edition of 'Curiosities
of Natural History,' and a new edition of Dean Buckland's
'Bridgewater Treatise,' in which he received valuable assist-
ance from Professor Owen and from Professor Quekett,
who had succeeded Professor Owen as curator of the
Museum of the College of Surgeons.
The Diary frequently mentions' worked hard at Bridge-
water.' In result a very perfect edition was produced
of this treatise, which forms the best literary memorial of
the Dean, and which was framed on such broad lines as to
be of permanent value, notwithstanding the time which
has passed since it was written, and the rapid expansion
of geological science.
94
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
Professor Owen thus acknowledged the copy he
received:-
'British Museum, Nov. 8, 1858.
My dear Frank,-I found on my return here from
the North the copy of the new edition of your dear
father's "Bridgewater," and I like the look of it ex-
tremely.
'It accords admirably with the good old original in
type and form, and gives a most useful and easily learnt
account of the main facts in geology and palæontology.
'I look upon it as the best elementary book that a
country gentleman or azure lady could take up for those
sciences. It very honourably associates your name with
that of your father.
'At a dinner at the White Lodge last Thursday the
Prince of Wales told me he had been reading with much
pleasure your book on Natural History.
'Always truly yours,
' RICHARD OWEN.'
In 1858, lectures on 'The House we Live in' were given
at the Mechanics' Institutes of Abingdon, Newbury, and
Wantage, and at Windsor. At Abingdon the 'lecture
lasted from 8 to 10.30; found it very hard work; managed
to make the people laugh; congratulated afterwards by
many people, high and low.' At Windsor 'there was a good
audience; gave a very lame lecture. In future I must not
look at notes too much before lecturing. At Wantage did
not look at all, and gave a better lecture.'
THE LIFE GUARDS
95
In November 1858, Frank Buckland received an 'offer
from Mr. Brunel to go to Egypt with him, all expenses
paid and a guinea a day besides from 4th December to
March. Went up to London and had interview with him
and Lady Hawes. Promised Brunel I would go with him,
if possible. Colonels Martyn and Vyse both gave me leave
to go to Egypt if I liked. 18th.-Letter from T. (surgeon
to Second Life Guards) saying it would put him to great
inconvenience if I went; so I wrote and refused Brunel's
offer, feeling I was doing my duty towards my neighbour,
and this was my motive.'
96
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
CHAPTER VI.
THE LIFE GUARDS, 1859-1862.
THE year 1859 was marked by the search for, and dis-
covery in the vaults of St. Martin's in the Fields of, the
body of John Hunter, the father of modern physiology, and
founder of the Hunterian Museum of Comparative Anatomy
at the College of Surgeons. For him Frank Buckland
entertained an enthusiastic admiration, calling him the
greatest of Englishmen.
A centenary dinner, in October 1856, had comme-
morated the studentship of John Hunter at St. George's
Hospital. From that time Frank Buckland formed the
resolution, which he now carried out, of doing honour to
the remains of the great anatomist, interred sixty-six years
before at St. Martin's in the Fields.
The search, after such lapse of time, was no light or
agreeable task, nor free from risk to health, and in result
he narrowly escaped a serious illness; but he set to
work with his usual determination, one of his maxims
being, ‘Must not shrink from doing a thing at first sight
disagreeable, or nothing will ever be accomplished.
Nothing like determination and perseverance.'
Accordingly, on January 26, as the Diary shows,
he went to St. Martin's Church, and found out the
registry of John Hunter's death. Down into Vault No. 3 to
THE LIFE GUARDS
97
look for the coffin; wrote letter to the President of the
College, Mr. Green, about it. 29th.-To St. Martin's Church;
again down into the catacombs with man, who recollected
moving the coffin in 1832.
6
February 1.-To St. Martin's Church to look for John
Hunter's coffin.
'February 7.-Began to look for John Hunter's body
at 1 P.M.; moved coffins all day long; turned out about
thirty coffins, many very curious ones among them. The
stink awful; rather faint towards the end of the business.'
6
So he continued searching in the vaults for fourteen
days without success; but on February 22 found the coffin
of John Hunter. At work all the morning, and about three
in the afternoon found it, the bottom coffin in the last tier
but one; gave a shriek of delight at finding it. It is in
excellent condition, and the letters on the brass plate
were as perfect as the day they were engraved. "John
Hunter, Esq., died October 16, 1793, aged 64.”
So my
perseverance is rewarded at last.
Went with the news to
Quekett and Mr. Arnott, who both of them came after
lecture to look at the coffin. 23rd.-Down into the vaults
with Mr. South and Mr. James, his assistant, in the after-
noon; then again with Professor Owen, who expressed
himself much pleased. I wish I could have made a sketch
of him, with his hand on the coffin, looking thoughtfully
at it it would have made an excellent subject. Much used
up at night.'
C
A few days afterwards he felt quite knocked down
and prostrate; thought I was going to have fever; shivering
pains in the back, headache, shortness of breath, &c. G.
and R. came in and prescribed for me; thought I was
H
98
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
going to have a serious attack.' The attack passed off
under treatment, and on March 28 he attended the solemn
re-interment of the coffin in Westminster Abbey, and on
the following day was invited to sit with the Council of the
College of Surgeons, to consider the erection of a memorial
to John Hunter. 'Green made splendid speech; President
of College of Physicians next to him. Introduced to Mr.
Lawrence; Stanley very polite. A great honour to be
sitting at the Council at my age among people so much
my seniors.'
A marble statue was afterwards placed in the College
of Surgeons, and a scholarship for comparative anatomy
founded.
1
The search at St. Martin's and the ceremony in the
Abbey are fully described in 'Curiosities of Natural
History.' The Leeds School of Medicine presented him
with a silver medal as a mark of respect for his exertions in
placing the body of John Hunter in Westminster Abbey.
The following entries occur in the Journal for 1859:-
6
April 28.-Dined with the Dean of Westminster;
after dinner, gave a sort of lecture to the people assembled
on the gorilla, and on the Whitechapel whale.
'May 6.—To see the whale at Gravesend, a specimen
of the rorqual; Dr. Murie of the College with me. Took
the measurements of him with great care, and some danger
from the slippery carcass.
'The total length was 56 feet, supposed weight about
45 tons. We were very anxious to get upon the body of
the whale; and just as we were doing so we were stopped
by the master's exclamation, "Don't get on the top of
Third series, vol. ii. p. 159.
THE LIFE GUARDS
99
him; you might bust him." However, we overcame his
scruples, and with some difficulty climbed up. It was
hazardous walking, as the skin had all become loose and
very slippery from decomposition; and there was not
a little danger, as the tide was running down fast on all
sides of this gigantic mass of flesh, which felt under the
feet like a mountain of highly oiled india-rubber.
'9th.-Down to village of Greys, near Tilbury, with Dr.
Murie, to dissect the whale. Murie and I cut off various
parts for dissection; took home a bit of the flesh to eat, but
found it too strong, even when boiled with charcoal.
6
July 9.-To British Museum to see Agassiz, with
Owen, Lord Enniskillen, and Sir P. Egerton. M. Agassiz
much pleased with the fossil fish in the Museum.
10th.-To Hampton Court; observed that Raphael
has painted a skate, a gar-pike, a dog-fish, and a haddock
in the picture of the Miraculous Draught of Fishes.
'25th.-Made agreement with Mr. Crockford, of the
"Field," to answer questions, &c., in the "Field."
In this year he lectured twice at Windsor, and also
lectured at Burnham on men and animals. 'Audience
principally working men, and their wives and babies. I
lectured pretty well, but, as usual, had too many things to
show.'
His literary work increased to sixty-three articles on
multifarious subjects, which appeared this year in the
'Field' and 'Leisure Hour.'
The Acclimatisation Society, though formed somewhat
later, had its origin in this year.
'On January 21, 1859, I had the good fortune,' he
wrote, 'to be invited to a dinner, which will, I trust, here-
H 2
100
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
after form the date of an epoch in natural history; I mean
the now celebrated eland dinner, when, for the first time,
the freshly killed haunch of this African antelope was
placed on the table of the London Tavern.
The savoury
smell of the roasted beast seemed to have pervaded the
naturalist world, for a goodly company were assembled, all
eager for the experiment. At the head of the table sat
Professor Owen himself, his scalpel turned into a carving
knife, and his gustatory apparatus in full working order.
It was, indeed, a zoological dinner to which each of the four
points of the compass had sent its contribution. We had
a large pike from the East; American partridges shot but
a few days ago in the dense woods of the Transatlantic
West; a wild goose, probably a young bean goose, from the
North; and an eland from the South. The assembled
company ardent lovers of Nature and all her works: most
of them distinguished in their individual departments.
The gastronomic trial over, we next enjoyed an intellectual
treat in hearing from the professor his satisfaction at
having been present at a new epoch in natural history.
He put forth the benefits which would accrue to us by
naturalising animals from foreign parts, animals good for
food as well as ornamental to the parks.
'The glades of South Africa have been described by
numerous travellers as reminding them forcibly of the
scenery of many of our English parks, and here were the
first-fruits of the experiments as to whether the indigenous
animals of these distant climes would do well in our own
latitudes. The experiment was entirely successful, and
he hoped would lead to more, and that we might one day
see troops of elands gracefully galloping over our green
THE LIFE GUARDS
101
sward, and herds of koodoos and other representatives
of the antelope family which are so numerous in Africa,
enjoying their existence in English parks, and added to the
list of food good for the inhabitants of not only England,
but Europe in general.
'The vice-chairman, Mr. Mitchell, (Secretary of the
Zoological Society,) then instanced the case of the Indian
pheasants, already in course of naturalisation at several
places in England, and expressed his conviction that the
American partridges we had just partaken of, as well as
the European gelinotte, would thrive well in our woods
and copses, particularly in Kent, and that there could not
be any great difficulty in getting them over from America
for this purpose. Elands, since the present experiment
had become publicly known, had risen in the market, the
demand much exceeding the supply, and there were
numerous applications for them which he was sorry to
say the Zoological Society could not meet. There were,
however, plenty more elands in South Africa, to be
had for the trouble of importing them; a fresh supply was
much wanted, and he trusted that this subject might
be taken up by those who had convenient pasture-ground
for them in England, and would be patriotic enough to
further the important cause of the acclimatisation of useful
exotic animals in English parks and homesteads.'
'
Professor Owen, a few days afterwards, wrote a letter
to the Times,' speaking highly of eland as a meat and
advocating the cause of acclimatisation. His observations,
both spoken and printed, made a deep impression on Frank
Buckland; for they showed us how science, even in her
gravest moods, tends to utility, and that there was a
6
102
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
grand uncultivated field open to those who would take up
the subject in earnest.'
(
In January, 1860, a remarkable article, in the Edin-
burgh Review,' upon the acclimatisation of animals, at-
tributed to Mr. Mitchell, again drew attention to the
subject, and in result Frank Buckland determined to form
in England an Acclimatisation Society.
In Paris, a Société d'Acclimatation had been formed,
in 1854, on an international basis, under the presidency
of M. Isidore Geoffroy St. Hilaire, and now numbered
more than two thousand members, including in its roll
thirty-five royal names, from the Emperor of the French.
to the King of Siam, from the Sovereign Pontiff to the
Emperor of Brazil; and it possessed a garden thirty-three
acres in extent, and every convenience and appliance for
carrying out its principles.
The French society was in active operation, having
local societies affiliated to it, and publishing monthly
reports, and had offered, in 1857, a series of prizes for the in-
troduction into France, and her colonies, of various beasts,
birds, fish, insects, and plants.
We are apt to forget how large a portion of the animal
and vegetable food of this country has been introduced from
abroad; the same process is always going on, slowly in this
country, already well stocked, rapidly in our colonies, of
which the transformation of Australia, in a few years, from
barrenness to fruitfulness, both in animal and vegetable
food products, is the most striking example. In England
it is said that but four additions have been made to
our domesticated animals since the Christian era; viz. in
1524 the turkey, in 1650 the musk-duck, in 1725 the
THE LIFE GUARDS
103
gold-pheasant, and in 1740 the silver-pheasant; but 'the
turkey alone,' exclaimed Frank Buckland, 'is an answer to
the question of the sceptic, who believes we have the best
of everything; and, if he be a gastronomer, I appeal to
that love of good feeding, which we all have more or less,
and ask him, if it were not for the acclimatisation, which
took place in 1524, what would he have for dinner at
Christmas to face his roast beef?'
Frank Buckland aimed to make science practical. To
find out a new kind of food, or to multiply an old one,
was to do practical good to a hungry people; and to this
end he henceforward devoted his chief energies.
The new society was formed with this object; he
undertook the duties of organising secretary. The first
meeting was successfully held on June 26, 1860.
6
In 1860, the second series of Curiosities of Natural
History' was published, and a fifth edition of the first
series; thirty-three articles on various subjects also ap-
peared.
He devoted increased attention to the Zoological Gar-
dens, where he became a voluntary consulting surgeon,
doctoring the sick, and assisting in the dissection of the
deceased animals.
Ever increasing his own stores of knowledge, he attended
the lectures of Professor Owen on fossil mammalia, of Dr.
Lankester on the uses of animals to man, and Professor
Quekett's biological lectures.
He continued to take part in the meetings of the
Committee of the Council of the College of Surgeons for
the memorial to John Hunter, and worked up the Ac-
climatisation Society.
104
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
(
In August he went to Scotland, writing in the train
the index to the first series of Curiosities.' On the 21st
he had his 'first day's salmon fishing.' Always an ardent
fisherman so far as leisure allowed, he used to say that
the happiest moment of his life was when he caught his
first salmon.
He saw Carlisle, Glasgow, Perth, Edinburgh, Dunbar
and Berwick, taking notes wherever he went for future
use.
At Chillingham Castle, the Earl of Tankerville took
me out on a pony, to see the wild cattle in the park: long
conversation with him.'
On November 27 he read a paper before the Society of
Arts on the acclimatising of animals, Professor Owen being
in the chair. After enforcing the example of the French
Society, whose learned president had stated that the world
furnished a list of no less than 140,000 animals, out of
which vast catalogue we limit our attention to 43, he
proceeded to examine into this catalogue of animal life,
and described, not at random, but guided by the experience
of the Zoological Society of London, those among the
numerous individuals composing it, which were most likely
to be of future use to us, enumerating those animals and birds
which from actual experience have been proved to thrive
in this country and also to multiply their species, there
being no reason why, having once bred, they should not
breed and multiply again.
The endeavour by acclimatisation to vary and increase
our supplies of food, drew his practical mind to consider
the still greater value of our native sources of food. What-
ever might be the result of the endeavour to introduce
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105
new animals useful for food, the preservation and multi-
plication of the native fish supply of the country was, he
clearly saw, an object of national importance, and he began
in 1861 to devote his energies to it.
At this date, although in France and Germany the
artificial culture of river and sea fisheries had been for
some time practised, and in China for generations, in
England it was little known. Most people are now familiar
with the apparatus by which the natural conditions of
fish-hatching are imitated. A box nearly filled with fine
gravel represents the bed of the stream in which the eggs
are deposited, the gravel being first boiled, to destroy
creatures which might also come to life and prey on the
ova. Running water, as in the natural stream, is supplied
from a cistern placed above the box, from which, through
a half-turned cock, a small stream of water constantly
dribbles. To enlarge the model river bed, a series of
boxes are placed like steps, one below the other, the
tiny stream of water trickling in turn from one to the
other; running water being essential to keep the eggs
alive, yet must the stream be so gentle as not to disturb
them on their gravelly bed.
In the eggs, which resemble small whitish semi-opaque
beads, presently two black specks appear, which develope
into eyes, and in due time the egg bursts and the embryo
fish uncurls, half an inch to one inch in length, with large
eyes, closed mouth, and a transparent pouch of nutriment
hanging underneath the throat, to be gradually absorbed
in about six or eight weeks, when the mouth opens, and
feeding by that organ begins.
Frank Buckland used to liken the absorption of this
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
long pouch to the process he had observed in human
babies, which at first appear with an appendage of long
clothes, gradually absorbed as they are short-coated, when
they open their mouths and begin to eat and drink like
their elders.
On May 1, 1861, Frank Buckland first collected perch
spawn, at Surley Hall, Eton, for artificial hatching, which
he commenced in his own house, and threw himself into
his new pursuit with an enthusiasm always contagious.
In a few days there were 'lots of men in my rooms looking
at fish-hatching.' He was immediately elected upon the
committee of the Thames Angling Preservation Society,
whose chairman, the late Mr. Stephen Ponder, entered
heartily into his schemes for fish-culture. He was also
placed on the council of the British Fisheries Preservation
Society. On May 13 he took up the live perch, just
hatched, to the meeting of the former society, and 'created
a great sensation.’ On May 15 he 'collected much perch
spawn.' Fish-hatching boxes were soon afterwards con-
structed at Mr. Stephen Ponder's residence at Hampton,
in which the perch spawn was placed and carefully watched.
Success was only obtained by conquering failure. At first
the enemies of the ova were hatched out with them and
devoured them. The gravel was boiled to destroy eggs
and larvæ of destructive insects, and with increasing
experience the fish were safely reared.
On Christmas-day the first salmon ova were placed in
the boxes at Hampton.
'December 24.-Up to London in afternoon to fetch
some salmon spawn sent by Mr. Garnett of Clitheroe:
brought it home and placed it under the tap after dinner.
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107
25th. Found that the tap over the salmon ova had run dry.
Went off immediately to Hampton and back; fearfully cold,
but never mind that.'
He continued this year to attend Professor Owen's
lectures, wrote numerous articles, and lectured at Windsor,
at Witney, and at Oxford. His lecture at Oxford was thus
described by one of the leading daily journals:-
'One of the most interesting, amusing, and instructive
lectures that have ever been given in Oxford was delivered
at the Town Hall by Mr. Frank Buckland, M.A. Ch. Ch. and
son of the late Dean Buckland. Apart from the interest
which, as might be expected, is attached to one bearing a
name so cherished here, the celebrity which the son has
attained as the writer of some of the most fascinating works
on natural history had the effect of gathering round him
a large and attentive audience. The subject was the
Curiosities of Natural History, and when the lecturer pre-
sented himself, he was greeted with much applause, which
was renewed when he stated that for all the pleasure he
had derived from the study of the works of nature, and had
been able to impart to others, he was indebted to his late
father, who had fostered and encouraged the taste which he
had always had in that direction.
"The lecture itself embraced a large number of interest-
ing and curious facts relating to man civilised and savage,
elephants, mammoths, lions, tigers, hyænas, rats, snakes,
spiders, caterpillars, birds, fish, oysters, pearls ; all of which
were illustrated and made more palpable by skeletons,
skulls, relics, and specimens, obtained from various quar-
ters, and some of which were of a most costly nature. For
two hours did the lecturer dilate upon these objects, with
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
a combination of instruction, wit, and humour which at the
same time interested, enlightened, and amused the audience,
who testified their delight by frequent bursts of applause.
The warmth of feeling which Mr. Buckland threw into his
favourite study, the colloquial and pleasant manner in which
he narrated facts and incidents, and his readiness to allow
his specimens to be inspected and examined by the audience,
gave the lecture additional interest and amusement, and re-
called very forcibly to the recollection of many present the
late Dr. Buckland, who was endowed with the same powers
and generous characteristics.'
Some notes have been preserved of the Windsor lecture,
of which Teeth formed the chief subject; but these are
but a shadow of the vivacity of the lecture in which every
subject touched on was made visible to the eye by illus-
trative specimens.
'My object,' he said, 'is to induce thought, comparison,
inquiry; using plain language and avoiding hard names,
which often hinder instead of helping the acquirement of
useful knowledge. A scientific meeting is not necessary
to scientific or natural research. The book of nature is
open to all.
'The stone quarry and the gravel pit, as well as the
ruined castle or ancient mound, are fraught with lessons of
history. Natural history is easy to learn; did we but keep
our eyes open daily and hourly, from all around we might
gain instruction and amusement.
'The first thing we must look at in an animal to ascer-
tain its order, is its tooth. From the nature of the teeth the
geologist ascertains the complete structure of the animal.
These may serve to group together the objects of the lecture.
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109
'Beginning naturally with our own species: People do
not think much of their teeth until they get the toothache,
and then begin to wish they had taken more care of them.
The front teeth are for biting. The back teeth for grinding.
Eating hard substances renders the teeth smooth. In the
skulls of Danes and Saxons the teeth are exceedingly
smooth from this cause. So in the case of a skull of a
Caffre who harassed the rear of our army, and was just on
the point of shooting a friend of mine, when he shot the
Caffre instead, and kindly presented me with his skull.'
Next a tattooed skull of a New Zealander was exhibited.
'Soon after the discovery of these tribes by Captain Cook
there was such a traffic in these skulls among the sailors
that the natives used to kill each other for the purpose of
selling the skull of the victim, for which from 81. to 97. was
sometimes given. This traffic is now happily abolished and
the skull is a rare specimen.
Notice how beautiful is the
tattooing; the artist seems to have imitated the graining of
the root of a tree; as in one of their paddles they seem to
have taken the section of a palm-tree for the pattern. The
doctrine of following nature's pattern, which these savages
seem ever to have considered, Mr. Ruskin is now begin-
ning to teach us. Passing from them to the most intelli-
gent of beasts, the huge elephant's tooth is unlike a man's
tooth and made for grinding, not biting. Elephants do not
eat beef-steaks and mutton-chops, but with their won-
derful trunks pull down branches and tear up trees by
their roots, and crush whatever they take within their
mouths between the teeth, which are like an immense
grinding mill. There are two kinds of elephant, the African
and Asiatic, easily distinguishable by their teeth, which are
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
divided by sectional lines of hard enamel, which in the
Asiatic run straight across, and in the African diagonally
in diamond shapes. If I tell you that elephants such as
these once lived in the neighbourhood of Windsor, and
came down to the river side where the bridge now is, you
may be astonished; yet such is the fact, else how came this
elephant's tooth in the quarry at Burnham, where it was dug
out? In tertiary times before the time of Man, these animals
did exist here, and their remains are constantly found.
There was also the fossil ox, and any person interested who
will go with me to the quarrymen at Maidenhead, and
stand a glass of ale, may get plenty of bones of fossil oxen,
which are there in abundance, as also those of the hippo-
potamus, which lived in those days on the banks of the
Thames as plentifully as water-rats now. The pigmy
elephant also was there, for its teeth are found. There
is now a great deal said about Man being contemporary
with the mammoth elephant, flint arrow-heads having been
found with the bones of these animals. The question is,
did Man live at the same time? a subject of moment,
which anyone who finds these flint arrow-heads, and care-
fully notes their position and accompaniments, may be able
to illustrate.'
Passing to the monkey tribe, he described the gorilla;
then showed the skull of a tiger, which had had a man in
its mouth, and carried the token of retribution in a
bullet-hole. Of the lion, he said, 'the most dangerous
thing is its fearfully crushing paw. When a man was
lately killed by a lion, at Astley's, I went soon after to
see the lion, and found that the man had very foolishly
run away instead of facing the lion; the lion just patted
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111
him on the back with his paw, and he died in an
instant. The tongue of the lion is rough, like that of a
cat, in order that it may scrape off the flesh from the
animals it kills; then afterwards come the hyenas and
crunch the bones. Anyone visiting the Zoological Gardens
would be attracted by the roar of the lion. An examina-
tion of the larynx shows it to be a most perfect musical
instrument, resembling in its anatomy a trombone. There
is behind the larynx a vibrating machine, which produces
the sound by which all other animals are awed: a roar,
a spring, and a pat with his powerful paw, and they are
dead. The lion, like the cat, has a beautiful bunch of
whiskers, which it distends whenever it takes a spring, and
the moment the end of the whisker touches the least ob-
struction, a telegraphic message goes to the brain, "Keep to
the right, or keep to the left," and the body follows. Our
whiskers are not so useful, only ornamental.'
He then described the poisonous teeth of the rattlesnake,
and of the viper, the only poisonous snake in England. 'It
is said that the viper's young take up their abode in the
stomach of the mother, running down her throat. This is
strange, if true; but scarcely more so than the maternal kan-
garoo putting her young ones into a pocket in her stomach,
which may be seen at the Zoological Gardens.' He then
showed the large teeth of the voracious spermaceti whale,
whose oil and ambergris are articles of commerce. He had
always thought the ambergris was a secretion from the
whale; and if it were, as the whale devoured the cuttle-
fish, there should be the remains of that fish in the secre-
tion. Seeing a piece of ambergris in the shop of Messrs.
Piesse and Lubin, the perfumers, he examined it, and
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
found in it the beaks of cuttle-fish, proving his belief correct.
Ambergris, though rather disagreeable in itself, is used in
the manufacture of scent, and if added to eau de cologne
or lavender water, adds twenty-five per cent. to its value.
Teeth of fish were then shown and described: the shark,
the skate, the jack; and then the tooth-like tongues of
shell-fish, with which the whelk, and other like shell-fish,
pierce the thick shell of the oyster: to combat this attack,
the pearl oyster fortifies the breach in its shell with a
barrier of pearl, and thus the pearl is formed so valuable to
jewellers and ladies. Thus, then,' he concluded, 'I have
endeavoured to point out to you some of the curiosities
of natural history-I should rather say of the wonders of
nature; but I have not made mention of a huge volume of
facts which might be opened with advantage: I mean the
uses of animals in relation to the industry of man, a volume
full of most interesting results and experiences, not,
however, by any means yet exhausted. There are deduc-
tions most interesting and most important to be made
from the study of natural history. When we consider the
ordained position of Man, as lord of the creation and of
created things, it is indeed surprising how few there are
who open their eyes to take cognisance of the wonders
which surround them. The earth is full of God's handi-
work. Whether we examine the leaf of the hedgerow that
falls at our feet, or humble worm which feeds upon that
leaf; whether we contemplate the giant elephant or the
lordly lion roaming free and unfettered in the primeval
forests of tropical climates; whether we consider the soft
spring wind, as it brings health, and life, and growth to
the nascent green carpet of the earth, or tremble at the
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113
Divine artillery of the awful thunder, or whether we
examine and reflect upon the admirable construction of the
frame of Man, with all its beautiful contrivances, the
culminating point, the very perfection of the animal king-
dom; shall we not be struck with the thought that these
things were not made in vain, that there must be an
Omniscient Mind, which in infinite power and wisdom
cares for the well-being of all His creatures, small and
great? Shall we not have weapons of the most irresistible
kind, wherewith to combat infidelity and the theories of
those men who imagine they can, with their limited facul-
ties, by notions of chance or mere properties of matter,
explain and account for the actions of the great Creator?
Shall we not at once become sensible of that privilege,
which we are so apt to use without due thankfulness to its
Giver, who has allowed us, with our imperfect senses,
to contemplate and consider His perfect and beautiful
works?'
'We know not,' said a critic of the lecture, 'which
most to admire, the felicity of diction which made the most
abstruse subject familiar to the junior portion of the
audience, the intellectual excitability which awakened the
attention of the more profound and learned members of
the Society, the exquisite specimens which were ready
to his hands to exemplify his scientific deductions, or
the rich vein of humour and interesting anecdote with
which the production of each specimen was so happily
illustrated.'
The story of vipers swallowing their young, alluded to
in the lecture, was never credited by Frank Buckland,
I
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
though a subject of frequent discussion. Numerous vipers
were kept for observation until their constant escape (due
to the uncontrollable curiosity of John the page) led to their
final transfer to the Zoological Gardens.
Some of his experiences with snakes he thus nar-
rated :-
'When medical officer to the Second Life Guards, I tried
various experiments with vipers. I was anxious to obtain
a living specimen of a then new British snake, the Coronella
levis, so I engaged a professional viper-catcher, one White,
to collect for me. I sent him down to the New Forest
with orders to catch every living snake he saw-the com-
mon ringed snake (Coluber natrix) excepted. In four days
he returned with a bag, and told me he had had capital
sport. We went into an empty barrack room, and stand-
ing on a chair I unloosed the top of White's bag, and shot
the contents on to the floor: the slippery reptiles came
tumbling out, first singly and then in pairs, and at last
the main body, coiled and twisted together into a solid
mass, like Medusa's chignon; and in half a minute I had
on the floor of the room fifteen vipers and two coronellas,
crawling about in all directions, and looking as savage as
vipers can look. The first thing I did, was to pick up the
coronellas and put them carefully away; and then we had
to catch all the vipers again. White gave me a lesson in
the noble art of viper-catching, which, like playing the
fiddle, seems very easy to do, but in reality is a somewhat
difficult, if not perilous operation. Taking a small but
strong bit of thin stick, he singled out a viper and then
pressed the stick tightly on his neck. When he saw the
stick had a fast hold (it was not a forked stick), he caught
THE LIFE GUARDS
115
66
hold of the viper's neck between his finger and thumb, and
lifted him off the ground; the viper slashed his tail about,
like a loose halyard in a gale of wind, and then twined his
body round White's hand. After a while, the beast was
quiet, and I was able to examine him. His mouth was
wide open, and his tiny glass-like and needle-pointed fangs
were full cock "like the lock of a shot gun. I then tickled
his nose with a feather, and immediately learned something
I did not know before: my irate friend moved his fangs
alternately, first one becoming erect and then the other,
and this in quick succession, just like a man sparring at
the commencement of a fight; he never moved them both
simultaneously, and no poison came out of the fangs. I
then got a glass slide out of the microscope, and placed it
in the viper's mouth; in an instant both fangs struck down
upon it, and were immediately retracted parallel with the
gum-their normal position when at rest. The fangs struck
the glass with the quickness of a bee's sting, and seemed
to attempt to fasten on it with a spiteful earnestness. Upon
taking away the glass from between the viper's jaws, I was
delighted to observe two drops of perfectly clear trans-
lucent fluid resting upon it, each drop corresponding to the
place where the tooth had struck. I at once placed these
drops under the microscope, and then saw a wondrous
sight. After a second or two, on a sudden, a crystal-like
fibre shot across the field of vision, and then another and
another, these slender lines crossing each other at various
angles, reminding me of the general appearance of an
aurora borealis, or of delicate frost crystals on a carriage
or room window, when there has been a sharp touch of
I 2
1
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
frost. I was so delighted with this novel and unexpected
phenomenon, that I ran at once into the mess-room and
called my brother-officers to look into the microscope; but
though I could not have been absent from the room a
minute, when we returned the coruscations and the crys-
tallisations had entirely disappeared, and nothing but a
pure fluid could be seen.'
On July 12, 1862, the inaugural dinner of the Accli-
matisation Society was held at Willis's Rooms, the deli-
cacies and difficulties of which Frank Buckland thus
described:
""
Well, I am glad it's over at last. I can now, for the
first time, fully appreciate the horrible state of excitement
which is for the most part displayed when "Materfamilias
is about to give a "party;" be it dinner or dancing, the
good lady has little to do, compared to the work of the
unfortunate secretaries who had the getting together of
the numerous new, and I may say extraordinary, dishes
which were put on the table. First, then, under the head
of "Potages," was "Birds' nest soup "-esteemed a great
delicacy in China. The nests are built in caves along the
rocky coasts of China, Java, and Sumatra, by a swallow
(Hirundo esculenta). The market price of the best nests
in China is nearly twice their weight in silver. This
soup was the cause of much and dire anxiety to me; at
the last moment the gentleman who had promised them
failed me, and it was only through the great kindness of a
friend that we got the soup at all. He gave me four
nests, and the cook cleverly made nearly a quart of soup
from them; they are formed of a species of gelatine which.
is soluble in boiling water, the soup therefore tasted
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117
gelatinous, but with a very peculiar and not disagreeable
flavour. Next we had soup of "Tripang or Beche de Mer.”
This is a species of Holothuria, or sea slug, found in the
Chinese and Japanese seas. They are worth about six-
pence each in China, and are said to be a most succulent
and pleasant food, not at all unlike the green fat of turtle.
These Tripangs, too, caused me much anxiety; when I
first received them they were as hard and solid as a bit of
horse's hoof. I gave them to our regimental mess cook,
and they were soaked all day and boiled all night; the
next morning when we looked at them-lo and behold!-
these dry masses had swollen out into huge, long, black-
looking masses amazingly like the common black garden
slug. I cut them up into small pieces instantly; for if
their appearance had then been made public, none of our
guests, I am sure, would ever have touched them. These
bits were boiled and simmered, I am afraid to say how
many hours—the cook and I thought they would never get
soft. However, they were soft by the time they were put
on the table, and they were-well, if you please, capital;
tasting something between a bit of calf's head (as in soup)
and the contents of the glue-pot; excellent for a hungry
man, and doubtless exceedingly palatable to John China-
man, who does not know what turtle soup, real or mock,
tastes like. Then followed "Nerfs de Daim" soup, made
from the sinews of the Axis deer, which is esteemed a
great delicacy, and even (according to Mr. Fortune) a
royal dish, from Cochin China. These deer sinews took
a monstrous deal of boiling, and they were simmering in
the pot an amazingly long time; when served up they
were good eating, but glue-like. I am now convinced
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
that the Chinese epicures love gelatinous soups; for all
these three soups were from China; and when I have
to entertain a Chinaman, I shall certainly give him a
gelatinous soup-say sixpennyworth of carpenter's glue,
served for appearances' sake in an ordinary soup tureen.
Then followed "Semoule soup, made from the flour of a
wheat grown in Algeria." This soup was more fitted for
invalids than for ordinary table soup; but it was very good,
and reminded one of the porridge the giant was eating
when Jack the giant-slayer killed him.
66
After soup came the entrées. No one can tell the
trouble I had in classifying many of our dishes, and the
cooks and I had many consultations on the subject. How-
ever, Kangaroo steamer" led off the entrées. It is a
stew prepared with choice portions of the kangaroo, and
is highly esteemed in Australia. The tin can given me
was not over tight, and the consequence was, that the
Kangaroo steamer" was a little "gone off," but not bad
for all that. Then came "Pepper Pot," a favourite dish in
the West Indies, made of various spices, and it was most
excellent; everybody wanted "Pepper Pot," and the waiters
very nearly quarrelled over it in their anxiety to obtain
supplies; and as I was helping it I was obliged to tap
their fingers with the spoon, to keep them and their plates
out of the way. Then we had "Chickens prepared with
curry powder from Siam," and "Ris de veau," prepared
with spices from Jamaica. I believe they were good, for
they were all cut up and gone in an instant.
'After these followed the reléves, beginning with “One
of the Society's Chinese Lambs, roasted whole, from
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119
Shanghai." Poor lamb, he was very innocent, and also
capital eating, for his bones were in ten minutes picked as
clean as if a flock of vultures had been at him. Then
came "Kangaroo ham," rather dry (it had not been soaked
enough), and very small; but it got a good character, for,
by some mistake, the "Kangaroo ham
Kangaroo ham" cards were placed
with the dish containing "wild boar ham," and many of
our guests were eating wild boar's flesh when they thought
they had got kangaroo. Now come the rots. Among these
figured a "Syrian Pig," a "Canadian Goose," a "Guan,"
"Curassow," and a "Honduras Turkey." These three
latter birds are from South America, and were placed on
the table to show what immense additions they would
be to our tables as food, and everybody knows how orna-
mental they are in appearance. Then we had three couples
of the peculiar duck bred by the Hon. G. Berkeley, namely,
a cross between the wild pin-tail and the common duck,
which combines the flavour of both birds, and will multiply
like ordinary ducks. We had also three couple of “dusky
ducks," and very good they were.
a
"The "Leporines" were kindly given me by Mr. Bart-
lett. They are said to be half rabbit, half hare; but as
the test of the knife and fork had never been applied to
them, I was most anxious that it should be used on this
occasion; the verdict from both the roast and boiled speci-
mens being that this animal has 90 per cent. of the rabbit
in his composition.
'Among the entremets figured "sweet potatoes from
Algeria," and Dioscorea Batatas from the branch society
in Guernsey, both excellent, and promising well to be a
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
great addition to the common potato. In taste they were
like very good mashed potatoes, with a peculiar delicacy
about them.
'Under the head of "Hors d'Euvres," we placed on
the table "Digby herring salad," the fish being from Nova
Scotia, and "Botargo," which is the roe of the red mullet,
dried and used as caviare by the gourmets of the Ionian
Islands-both excellent, as the empty dishes proved. The
dessert consisted of "Dried Bananas," from the Île de la
Réunion (Bourbon)—a wonderful sweetmeat; "Preserved
Bibas;" the fruit of Eriobotrya japonica (also from
Bourbon), having a sweet acid and most palatable taste;
"Preserved Cassareep" and "Guava Jelly," from Dominica;
"Rosella Jelly," from Queensland-all very good and highly
approved of.
'After dessert were presented: a new kind of coffee-
"Cassia orientalis," a new substitute for chicory—and a
new tea called "Ayapana" tea, all from the Île de la
Réunion, and all, I suppose, pretty good, as they were
gone when I went, late in the evening, to get a taste of
them. As for the wines and liqueurs, their name was
legion. They came from Victoria, New South Wales,
Queensland, Guadaloupe, Algeria, Ionian Islands, Mar-
tinique, &c., the long row of empty bottles showing that
the palates of the guests had approved of what was placed
in their glasses.'
6
Speeches from the noble Chairman (Lord Stanley), and
many influential gentlemen from France and Australia and
our numerous colonies, of course, followed the repast-
adding a feast of intellect to a feast of the appetite. Thus,
then, ended one of the most agreeable dinners (except that
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121
I and my co-secretary got nothing to eat till nearly twelve
o'clock) I ever was present at.'
The author of endless merriment in his regiment,
Frank Buckland was sometimes the unwitting cause of
breach of discipline. One Sunday in 1862, at church
parade, the men all burst out laughing, to the scandal of
the colonel, who angrily appealed to the adjutant. The
adjutant turning round roared with laughter, as did the
sergeant-major. The colonel then turned, and beheld Frank
Buckland coming out of his quarters, attended by Brice the
French giant and a dwarf then exhibiting in London, who,
being like Frank, off duty on Sunday morning, had come
to breakfast with him.
This giant, a huge but well-proportioned and really
amiable man of about 7 feet 8 inches, was first found by
Frank Buckland exhibiting himself in associations deroga-
tory to his worth, and was advised to insist on better treat-
ment or quit. But,' said Frank, 'I was soon cured of giving
practical advice;' a few days afterwards a cab drove up,
from which emerged the giant, who had taken the kind
advice literally, had left his exhibition and appealed to
Frank as his only friend to help him to a better livelihood;
and not in vain (though few would care to have a giant
thrown on their hands); he was cared for, and ere long
started afresh under happier auspices.
After this Brice was a not unfrequent visitor, to the
delight of the neighbouring youth, bringing a few years
later his wife, 'a very agreeable, good-looking, chatty girl.'
A pair of the giant's shoes, and a cast of his huge hand,
were retained as keepsakes.
A lady dwarf was one day invited to meet him, but
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
with untoward results; the good-natured giant took her
up, as a little girl, on his knee, causing an explosion of
'I am nineteen,' she cried, and to treat me
indignation.
like a baby!'
be appeased.
(
It was long before her ruffled dignity could
123
CHAPTER VII.
FISH CULTURE: 1863-1865.
IN 1860, the senior surgeon of the Second Life Guards
having died, Frank Buckland applied for promotion. His
application for the full surgeoncy was strongly supported
by Lord Seaton the colonel, and other officers of the regi-
ment, and by Sir Roderick Murchison, Sir Benjamin Brodie,
and other friends. According to the old tradition of the
Guards, the medical officers were promoted as vacancies
occurred in the same regiment, but, under new regulations,
it was now proposed that promotion should go by seniority
in the brigade, instead of in each regiment, or that the
colonel might, if he chose, appoint a surgeon from the line;
and it was decided at the Horse Guards to give the pre-
ference to an assistant surgeon of older standing from
another regiment.
The disappointment of promotion in his old regiment,
and the growing success of his literary and scientific career,
led him, in 1863, to resign his commission after eight years'
service, and to devote himself to literature and practical
natural history.
On leaving the army, Frank Buckland threw himself
with renewed ardour into the work he had now chosen for
life.
124
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
There have been many scientific naturalists who have
enlarged or classified our knowledge of animal life. This
was not the ideal Frank Buckland set before himself, so
much as the practical application of that knowledge for
the welfare of mankind, especially by the increase of food
supply; yet no fact connected with nature was disregarded
by him, and he laboured steadfastly to kindle in others
that love of nature which inspired himself, and to set every
one with whom he had to do, to use their own eyes and
faculties, in observing and recording facts of natural
history.
Fish culture was henceforward his chief pursuit, and
his life became one of incessant activity, bodily and
mental. As the knowledge of fish-hatching spread, many
sought his aid in fitting up the apparatus in different parts.
of the country, and it became necessary to provide ova
for the multiplying nurseries. Winter is the spawning
time for trout, and in January and February of each year
he worked hard in collecting trout ova in different rivers
-no easy task in time of frost-the intervals of time being
filled up with literary and other labour. He corresponded
also with the directors of the French Government Esta-
blishment of Pisciculture at Huningue, whence he received
consignments of fish ova, principally of salmon, salmon
trout, and Great Lake trout. As the eggs were collected
or received, immediate provision was made for their nurture
on artificial gravel beds with running water.
Some were
distributed through the country to those who were begin-
ning fish culture, others were temporarily provided for
at his own house. These are among his notes for one
month:
FISH CULTURE
125
'February 6, 1863.-Shifted my eggs into a bath in my
room.
'7th.-Down to Chalfont Park, Gerrard's Cross, to Mr.
Hibberts, and robbed trouts' nests of several thousand eggs.
Brought eggs home and put them in the "Field"” office.
No eyes yet in the eggs.'
'9th.-Eggs of first lot of Rhine salmon hatched out
in my bath.'
12th.-Down to Carshalton with S. Gurney, Esq.,
M.P.; got about 3,000 trout ova. Mr. Gurney offers water
for acclimatisation experiments.'
' 17th.—To Carshalton; spawned a hat-full of trout
ova, white and red. 3,000 salmon trout and 2,000 Great
Lake trout came from Huningue.
18th. Took Great Lake trout to Zoological.'"
21st.-To St. Mary Cray to get ova for Mr. Hall
of Farningham. With me went Bartlett and Pennell. Got
between three and four thousand. Salmon ova arrived from
Galway yesterday.'
'23rd.-Busy with the fish all day. Received salmon
from Allies; exchanged fish with Bartlett.
6
24th.-Read paper at Zoological on fish-hatching; a
great success.
'25th. At British Museum dissecting salmon with
Günther; lunch with Gould; talk about ouzel.
26th.-3,000 Great Lake trout eggs, 1,500 Ombre
Chevalier, and 2,000 salmon trout arrived; left them in
box all night.'
28th.-2,500 Great Lake trout eggs arrived.'
March 3.-With Mr. Youl by appointment, and
examined the salmon ova he had packed in ice, which
126
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
had been there forty-five days. Duke of Argyll called on
me about grayling spawn; lots of people at " Field."
The intermediate days were much occupied with meet-
ing numerous persons, including Professors Huxley and
Flower, at the 'Field' office, explaining the fish-hatching
apparatus, and enlisting their sympathy and aid.
Several letters on fish-hatching were also written to the
'Times,' attracting public attention.
He showed the fish-hatching apparatus successively at
the Microscopical and the Royal Societies, and also at the
Dog Show at Islington, where it excited great interest, and
where he was first introduced to the Prince of Wales, who
'examined all I had to show him, and was most kind and
gracious.'
'The crowd round the boxes,' he wrote, 'was thick, as I
know from personal experience, and there were often so
many good folks pressing to look at the fish, that I was in fear
and dread that I should be speedily buried, fish and all, in
the ruins of the entire edifice. The week at the Dog Show
was great fun, and upon my word I do not know whether
the young salmon and trout did not think themselves
equally honoured as their master. Fish of the world are
they, travelled fellows, distinguished foreigners, who have
been naturalised in England, according to the proper forms
and regulations; taken from their original home, the Rhine,
the Lake of Geneva, or trout streams in the south of
France, collected at Huningue under the fostering care of
my good friend M. Coumes, the chief engineer of the
Piscicultural Establishment; stuffed into moss in the form
of eggs, shut up close in bottles, and packed tightly in
boxes, they have travelled many a long mile both by rail
FISH CULTURE
127
and steamboats; hatched in the "Field" window in the
middle of London, the "lions" of a soirée at the Royal
Society, the subjects of a lecture at the Royal Institution,
the theme of many a friendly argument both in print and
vivá voce, these civilised and tame salmon will indeed have
some fine yarns to tell the rude and wild salmon when they
meet them again. They were insulted but once, and only
once, when it was suggested they were only dog-fish after
all, or they would never have been admitted into a Dog
Show. Anyhow, these pretty silver-coated little creatures
afforded pleasure and amusement to many thousands of
people, who have certainly never seen a salmon alive before,
and who looked upon a salmon as simply an article of
housekeeping, and fit only to be cooked and eaten, a sort
of aquatic leg of mutton or shoulder of lamb, instead of a
fish full of life and activity.'
After considerable trouble, Frank Buckland arranged
for fish-hatching boxes to be exhibited in the South Ken-
sington Museum, and also at the Crystal Palace. In April
he delivered a Friday evening lecture at the Royal Insti-
tution on fish culture. It was a novel experience to the
grave members of the Royal Institution to laugh heartily
at the racy humour with which the new practical science
of fish culture was explained, but it was irresistible, while
the earnestness with which the national importance of the
subject was enforced was none the less impressive.
The substance of the lecture was expanded into a book.
published shortly afterwards, by which he endeavoured,
not without success, to obtain also public attention.¹
On August 11, 1863, he married Miss Hannah Papes,
1 Fish-Hatching. Tinsley. 1863.
128
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
having shortly before taken the house, now No. 37 Albany
Street, Regent's Park, in which he continued to reside
during his life; and where he accumulated a store of
specimens of natural history and other curiosities, and
gathered round him a succession of pets, monkeys and
stranger animals, with whom he lived in close social
intimacy and mutual affection; while fish-hatching, and,
later on, fish-casting were actively carried on in the base-
ment.
The household arrangements were unconventional, and
his Journal occasionally records experiments in unusual
food. B. called; cooked a viper for luncheon.' 'To
Weybridge; out fishing with P. and W.; cooked perch
and frog on the shore.' 'Had some elephant-trunk soup.'
The trunk itself was boiled for days, if not weeks, without
being sensibly mollified. A plentiful supply of roast giraffe
appeared when the giraffe-house at the Gardens was burned ;
the meat was white and tasted like veal. Other deceased
animals from the Gardens were occasionally experimented
upon.
His home in Albany Street became the rendezvous not
only of all who loved practical natural history, or sought
information on any subject connected with his favourite
pursuits, but also of many outlandish folk.
'July 6.-The New Zealanders came to lunch with me.
Afterwards went to the Zoological Gardens, and over the
First Life Guards' stables. Altogether great fun.'
They showed intense fear at the sight of the elephant,
but were delighted to see the zebra, who, they said, had
tattooed his face, and the chief offered to tattoo their host's
face in return for his kindness, whispering in broken
FISH CULTURE
129
English, 'You good to me, me moco (tattoo) your face; me
you tattoo beautiful as Rangativa.'
Among his numerous pets at this time, one of the most
original was a 'Laughing Jackass,' of whose habits and
behaviour he wrote this amusing description:-¹
'It is very necessary for those who wish to gain know-
ledge of natural objects to ascertain the local names by
which they are called, in the places where the search for
them is made. Thus a naturalist, desirous to obtain a
specimen of a bird peculiar to Australia, would exceedingly
puzzle his friend if he wrote to tell him to send home a
"Dacelo Gicas;" but if, on the contrary, his friend were
told to send a "Laughing Jackass," he would probably be
able to execute the commission. Australia, like China, is
a very queer place, and there are some very queer animals
in it. Among the birds of Australia, I know none more
extraordinary than the "Laughing Jackass." He is a true
kingfisher alike in his personal appearance, his structure,
and his habits. One's idea, however, of a kingfisher is
generally associated with a water-loving bird; but this
Australian kingfisher is not a water-bird, but a land-bird,
and preys not upon fish, but rather upon grubs, worms,
snakes, frogs, mice, &c.; he is, in fact, a scavenger in the
true sense of the word, and if any creature ought to be
protected more than another it is that which performs the
duty of a scavenger.
'It has been stated that the only things which acclima-
tise themselves, without pain or trouble being taken in the
matter by human beings, have been rats and blue-bottle
flies a fact which may possibly excite a smile; but when
1 The Queen, June 1861.
K
130
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
•
we come to consider the matter philosophically, rats and
blue-bottle flics are, in reality, among the most useful of
created things to the human race. True it is, indeed, that
we cannot eat them; but everything in this world was not
made to be eaten, and these despised creatures really do
great service to us by getting rid of decaying substances,
which would otherwise breed fever. Now, the "Laughing
Jackass" is of the greatest service to our friends in
Australia in his humble capacity of scavenger. How
thankful would every person in danger from the bite of a
venomous snake be, to see a "Laughing Jackass" suddenly
descend from his perch, and seize upon and devour the
poisonous reptile on which, in another instant, he might
have placed his foot, and have received a lethal wound.
66
"The "Laughing Jackass," therefore, of Australia, is
one of the most useful birds-I might almost say pro-
tecting" birds-not only to the person but also to the
property of the sheep farmer. This " gogera," as it is
called by the blacks, is, withal, a merry, joyous fellow; he
is not a sulky-looking creature, like the vulture of ill omen,
but he shows the delight with which he goes about the
work nature has appointed for him to perform by laughing
most heartily; not a faint, languid expression of pleasure,
but a downright hearty laugh. A lot of them, we learn
from Dr. Bennett, may be seen high up in a eucalyptus or
gum tree; and when the traveller attempts to drive them
off, instead of flying away, they will commence a hearty
laugh, one joining in the chorus after another till the
whole forest resounds with their merry music. Esop
records the fact of an old lady, who, in order to make her
maids get up early in the morning, took special care of a
FISH CULTURE
131
fine specimen of a "bright chanticleer," whose special duty
it was to "proclaim the morn" to the sleepy servant maids.
Should any of my readers wish to make their servants get
up in proper time, let them at once purchase a "Laughing
Jackass," and if this fellow by his cachinnations does not
wake the whole household, he will have lost the good cha-
racter he possessed when at home in Australia. I once
heard that a visitor to a country farm declared he could get
no sleep at night, inasmuch as the geese kept up a continual
dialogue throughout the hours of darkness; when morning
arrived the cocks and hens began their chatter; at last they
went out with the geese to feed, and the unfortunate country
visitor thought he would have some repose. Vain hope
indeed, for the farm men came and killed a pig under the
window, thus rousing him up entirely for the rest of the
day. If the owner of the farm had happened to have been
the possessor of a "Laughing Jackass," I warrant he
would have made as much noise, as did the poor pig when
in the hands of the farm men.
'For the last few days I have had a "Laughing Jackass
in my possession-as fine a jackass as could be found within
a hundred miles of St. Paul's. In fact, I had only one
fault to find with him, and that was that he would never
laugh. The cause of this defect in his education possibly
may have been, that I never gave him anything to laugh
about; this, however, was not my fault, for I gave him
plenty of good and wholesome food in the shape of raw
meat, &c., which he took with a dignity becoming this
most distinguished of strangers. Wishing, moreover, to
try his destructive powers, I showed him one day a mouse;
in a moment all his feathers bristled up, and he appeared
1 2
Uor M
端
​132
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
to be (like an enraged tom-cat) twice his natural size. I
held the mouse to his cage, and in an instant he seized the
animal with his tremendous beak, and gulped him down
with apparently the greatest satisfaction. He then began a
slight titter, which I trusted he would increase gradually
to a laugh, but I suppose he thought it an occasion hardly
worth laughing about, so he shut up his feathers again,
and composed himself to sleep. In this attitude I fancied
I detected a sly expression about his eye, as much as to
say, "I know you want me to laugh; I can laugh if I
like, but I will not laugh." My bird was about the size of
a large magpie, very like an English kingfisher in general
shape; though his colour was brown, still he was a very
pretty bird—so beautiful, indeed, was he that a lady bor-
rowed him, for a day or so, to exhibit him at a bazaar in the
Hanover-square Rooms. Here, I understand, he was much
admired by the fair visitors; though, from all I hear, he
did not appreciate the compliment as much as he ought.
In due time he was brought back home. I gave him his
breakfast, and put him out in the sun, which he much en-
joyed after his sojourn in a hot, crowded room. I turned
my back for a moment, and on looking round again was
perfectly horrified at what I saw. Alas! alas! the jackass
had found a bar of the cage, which had been broken at the
bazaar, had tested it with his beak, and finding that it
yielded, had pulled it on one side and flown away. De-
lighted with his cleverness, and, possibly, also rejoicing at
the discomfiture of his owner, away he flew into the
Regent's Park. One parting farewell only he gave me;
the rascal actually stopped in his flight, and for the first
and last time I heard his hearty laugh. The poor bird had
FISH CULTURE
133
at last found out something to laugh about, namely, that
he had made his escape most cleverly, and that, though he
had been denominated a jackass, his actions and the clever
manner in which he got out of the cage proved most
effectually that he was really no jackass at all.
C
away
Everyone who has read that capital story, "Lost Sir
Massingberd," will know what tremendous mystery was
excited by the sudden disappearance of this cruel, hard-
hearted country squire, whose body was ultimately found
(as everyone knows) in the hollow of an old tree. When
my "Laughing Jackass" flew away, I was in a state of de-
spair, and as the angler, when he has lost a fish, invari-
ably stares straight into the water as though that would
recover the fish, so after my "Laughing Jackass" flew
I frequently found myself staring vacantly in the air,
in hopes I might see something of the lost pet. I have
recovered him, and in this wise:-He escaped from his
cage on Sunday morning, and on Monday night I was
greeted with the agreeable news that "the Laughing
Jackass had come back." It appears that a gentleman
living in Stanhope Street, Hampstead Road, had, on
going into his bedroom, the same day that the bird was
lost, found him perched at the foot of his bed fast asleep,
looking as merry and as comfortable as possible. Thinking
that this was a strange bird, which had escaped from the
Zoological Gardens, he went the next day to the gardens;
Mr. Bartlett knew it must be my bird, and accordingly
the bird was sent to me. On his arrival his left wing was
immediately cut with a pair of scissors to prevent further
accidents. Immediately the operation was performed he
attempted to fly away, and, finding that his wing would
134
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
not act, he lost his temper, and turning round pecked most
furiously at his cut wing-in fact, he was so very angry
at finding that his wing would not act properly, that he
hopped round and round the table, and uttered sounds the
very reverse of laughing. He was then put in a cage, and
remained there all night, attempting to clean his feathers,
which were as black as though he had come down a
chimney. He was let out in the morning, and perceiving
a pan of cold water, immediately plunged into it; he then
went out in the sun, and spreading his feathers soon got
dry. He remained perfectly sulky the whole of that day,
but, towards evening, some cats came to pay him a visit;
five regular vagabond London cats were these-black,
white, tabby, and tortoiseshell. They all assembled round
his cage, evidently thinking they had got hold of some-
thing good to eat; but the "Laughing Jackass," putting
up his crest, and making himself look twice his size,
fought them all in a most plucky manner, or, as my boy
reports, "he regularly tackled all the lot of cats," who
speedily beat an ignominious retreat, every now and then
looking round, evidently angry at not getting a meal.
""
"The "Laughing Jackass," with his wing cut, now
goes about the house. The other morning the big Turkish
wolf dog, Arslan, was coming up the stairs at a gallop,
when, suddenly, he came upon the "Laughing Jackass
sitting on the top step. The bird snapped his bill and
ruffled his feathers. This was too much for the nerves of
the big dog, who, giving a growl and an angry lash of his
tail, ran down faster than he came up. Wishing to test
the real powers of the bird's beak, I turned a frog loose
before him. The moment he saw the poor frog, he made
FISH CULTURE
135
up his mind it was good for food, and pursued it across the
room, hopping very much with the peculiar high action of
a street sparrow. The frog knew the bird was an enemy,
for he also hopped away as fast as he could go, but the
jackass was too quick for him. He caught him with his
big bill, and made a motion as though he was going to
swallow him forthwith, but, changing his mind, suddenly
he hit the frog a most tremendous blow on the floor, and,
in a minute or two, repeated the blow, knocking the frog
about, as one sees Punch knock about the constable with
his wooden staff. This was most interesting to observe,
inasmuch as it proves the way in which this bird, in his
native country, is enabled to kill a venomous snake with-
out its being able to bite or kill him, for, being so shaken
and knocked about, the snake has not time to turn round and
bite. I have observed a somewhat similar thing in a young
cuckoo. A piece of meat was given to the little creature ;
it immediately whacked the meat against the perch of the
cage several times consecutively, evidently denoting the
creature's habits of killing, in a natural wild state, cater-
pillars, which are very "hard lived" creatures, before it
swallows them. I have also given the "Jackass" a dead
mouse, and it is astonishing to see how quickly he snapped
him up. It has been observed that, when live white mice
are given to the animals at the Zoological Gardens, the
visitors exclaim, how cruel to sacrifice the "dear little
white mice;" but when the common brown mouse is
given it would appear, from the remarks made, that there
is no cruelty in the matter. It is, however, in fact just as
bad to give a brown mouse for food to an animal, as it is to
give a white mouse. It would, moreover, seem to be the
136
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
fact, that in some minds the brown mouse is supposed to
be simply a "mechanical mouse," which is wound up by a
hole in its side, and goes by springs under its skin; for I
once heard a nurse say, that she would give a little live
white mouse to a child that was ill, because the "nasty
common brown mice would run round two or three times
upon a plate and then go down; but the little white mice
would run round the plate ever so many times, and never
go down."
(
A friend, who has been in Australia, has examined my
bird; he knows him well, and has often seen him in his
native wilds. He tells me that the bird has a custom of
laughing in an aggravating manner when a misfortune
happens to travellers. Thus, when a waggon loaded with
goods breaks down in some desolate region on a long
march, and the owner is in a great state of mind to get it
right again, a “Laughing Jackass" is sure to appear at
the top of a neighbouring tree, and laugh in the most
aggravating manner at the miserable condition of the
traveller, till the woods resound with his merry “Ha, ha,
ha! He, he, he! Oh, oh, ho!" Many of us, I think,
might take a lesson from the poor "Laughing Jackass,"
for surely there is no sweeter music than a hearty laugh,
be it from man, woman, or bird.'
In 1862 and 1863 several live porpoises were brought
to the Zoological Gardens, but having been injured in cap-
ture, lived only a few days, although nursed and doctored
with tenderest care by Frank Buckland. He took them in
his arms and administered sal volatile or brandy-and-water,
with temporary relief, applied caustic to their wounds,
causing lively emotion, tempted their appetites with
FISH CULTURE
137
varieties of fish, or fed the young ones with a baby's
feeding-bottle.
The third porpoise lived for a short time in the stur-
geon's pond, and having been described by Frank Buckland
in the 'Times,' was honoured with an elegy in 'Punch' by
Thackeray, which should not here be omitted.
ELEGY ON THE PORPOISE.
BY THE STURGEON.
DEAD is he? yes, and wasn't I glad when they carried away his
corpus,
A great black oily wallowing, walloping, plunging, ponderous porpus.
What call had Mr. Frank Buckland, which I don't deny his kindness,
To take and shove into my basin a porpoise troubled with blindness ?
I think it was like his impudence, and p'r'aps a little beyond,
To poke a blundering brute like that in a gentle fish's private pond.
Did he know as I am the king of fish, and am written down in
histories
As meat for his master, that is to say, for Victoria the Queen, his
mistress?
And, if right was done, I shouldn't be here, but be sent in a water
parcel
To swim about in a marble tank in the gardings of Windsor Castle.
And them as forgets the laws of the land, which is made to rule and
control,
And keeps a royal fish to themselves, may find themselves in a hole.
Is a king like me, I humbly ask, to be put in a trumpery puddle,
For fellows to walk about and spy, and talk zoological muddle ?
And swells to come for a Sunday lounge, with French, Italians, and
Germans,
Which would better become to stop at home and think of the morn-
ing's sermons.
And then of a Monday, to be used in a more obnoxious manner,
Stared at by rags and tags and bobtails, that all come in for a tanner.
And me, the king of fish, indeed, which it's treating china like delf,
Mr. Kingfisher Buckland, Sir, I think, you might be ashamed of your-
self.
138
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
And then I can't be left alone, but you come and stick in a big,
Blind, blustering, snorty, oily beast, which is only an old sea pig.
I'm heartily glad he's dead, the pig; I was pleased to my very
marrow,
To see the keeper wheel him away in that dirty old garding barrow.
And thought it was not flattering, last Sunday as ever were,
To hear the swells as had read the 'Times' come rushing up for a stare,
(
And crying, Bother the Sturgeon, it's the Porpus I want to see,'
And going away in a state of huff, because there was only me.
It was pleasant (and kings have right divine to feel a little malicious)
To see 'em sent to behold his cops in the barrow behind the fish-
house.
So when Mr. Buckland next obtains a porpoise as wants a surgeon,
Perhaps he won't insert that pig beside of a royal sturgeon.
I've heard the tench is a cunning fish, and effects a perfect cure
Of other fish put into his pond, which he's welcome to do, I'm sure;
But don't bring sick porpoises up to me, I'm kin to the old sea devil,
And though a king, I'm not inclined to be touching fish for the evil.
Besides, a Porpus isn't a fish, but a highly-developed man;
Improved, of course, with a tail and fins, on the famous Westiges plan.
The Phocænor Rondoletii, though his scent in sultry weather
Was not like Rondoletia nor Frangipanni neither;
But that is neither here nor there, and as I previously said,
From the bottom of both my heart and pond, I'm glad the porpoise
is dead.
Royal Zoological Gardens.
८
THE STURGEON.
At this time the natural history columns of the 'Field,'
of which department he had become editor, and later
those of Land and Water,' teemed with curious corre-
spondence and discussions. These columns were his life-
long delight; no crabbed refusal, no supercilious sneer,
ever disheartened those who sought knowledge in them,
or tried to add to its stores. Everybody was heartily
welcome to contribute, so that they were in earnest and
loved nature, and every contributor seemed to find a
friend in the genial and kindly editor.
FISH CULTURE
139
The Acclimatisation Society continued to engage much
time and interest. A visit to the Treasurer of the So-
ciety, Mr. Bush, who took charge of the animals on their
arrival in this country, he thus described in August
1863-1
'It was only the other day that I found myself sitting
on the top of a carrier's light cart, jolting through the
purlieus of Whitechapel, the "conducteur" of a valuable
cargo; for behind me were two large crates, the one con-
taining two "native companions," the other an emeu, sent
to the Society from the Acclimatisation Society of Brisbane.
The poor birds, though kindly treated on board ship, were
in a terrible state of alarm as we jolted over the stones,
and uttered plaintive cries of distress and uneasiness; and
when, arrived at their journey's end, Mr. Bush and I un-
packed them, they seemed shy of us, and retreated into a
corner like naughty children. Now, how different are
these poor birds! No sooner did I come out of the door
with Mr. Bush, than the "native companions" (the Austra-
lian name of a large and handsome species of crane) came
rushing up with outspread wings to the iron railings; the
emeu, who was feeding near the Chinese sheep at a dis-
tance, came hasting up with that peculiar swift but one-
sided run which is so very remarkable. The birds patiently
waited their master, and, when he approached, the cranes
began a sort of "niggers around" dance, and stretching
up their long necks with a cry of pleasure, reminded one
of the picture in "Esop's Fables" of the cranes asking
Jupiter for a king. They seemed to know where Mr. Bush's
pockets were, and were not disappointed. One of them
1 The Queen.
140
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
has a game leg, and it was most amusing to see him hob-
bling about lest his companion should get too much, for
even in animals, as, I regret to say, in our own species, the
moment an individual, by his own exertions, obtains any
success, others immediately try to wrest it from him.
When the native companions had received their rations,
Mr. Bush went close up to them. They did not attempt
to run away, but, on the contrary, bent down their heads
towards the ground, and made the most absurd bow,
amounting to a curtesy, as graceful as any young lady
would give at her first drawing-room. It was, moreover,
curious to remark, how impatient these birds are (as,
indeed, are all animals) of the human touch. After they
had been caressed by the master, they ruffled up all their
feathers with a shudder, and then arranged them with
their long bills, though they were apparently in perfect
order before. I observe something like this among our-
selves. People who have their hair cut, generally have it
neatly brushed by the hairdresser, yet nine people out of
ten will borrow the hairbrush and arrange it for them-
selves, even though, to outward appearance, it requires no
arrangement whatever. I have asked a hairdresser if he
has observed this fact in his shop, and he says that it is so,
but he cannot account for it, neither can I. I should like
to know if ladies give the finishing touch with their own
brushes, when the court hairdresser acknowledges their
coiffure quite perfect. While the native companions were
eating, the emeu was in a great state of mind. He
stretched out his long neck, and cried with a peculiar
piteous cry, very like that of the seagull, which we hear
in stormy weather at sea. He pecked at everything
FISH CULTURE
141
offered, but, somehow or another, seemed to know if it was
good to eat or not; and here let me observe, that birds,
even though they have horny bills, have the sense of touch
or taste highly developed, for I have often seen poultry
reject what was not good for them to eat; and, again, I
never saw a cock or hen take a bad shot at a grain of
wheat or corn which was good to eat. In the same way,
the emeu pecked at everything proffered, but rejected all
but that which was fit for food; he tasted a cigar end, but
swallowed a lump of barley-meal. This bird has a most
tremendous appetite, and eats as much grass as a sheep.
When he is eating his attitude is remarkable. He squats
down, with his long legs parallel to and on the ground,
and pecks away at the grass, tearing it up somewhat after
the fashion of a goose. When he wishes to advance, he
does not get up on his feet, but moves his legs forward like
a man walking on his knees. I think that this must be
his proper attitude when feeding in the bush, for, if erect,
his tall stature would call the attention of the native
"black men," who from afar would quickly have his head
off, with a stroke of that terrible weapon in trained hands,
the boomerang. In a crouching attitude he has a much
greater chance of escaping observation and saving his
life. A friend has asked me to examine an emeu's nest
which he has brought with him from Australia. I do not
expect to see much of a nest, for it is curious that these
great running birds, who never fly (for they have hardly
any wings), seem very careless about their nests; whereas
birds that fly in the air, and are bad runners, have a much
more complicated and highly finished nest. The eggs of
the emeu are of a beautiful green colour, and she makes
142
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
her nest in the bush. May not the green colour have some-
what to do with the preservation of the eggs from depre-
dators-both men and animals? The ostrich places her
eggs in the sand; they are not green, but of a somewhat
sand-like colour. It would be a curious subject to ascer-
tain how far the colour of eggs laid by the birds in open
nests on the ground coincides with the soil and vegetation
on which they are placed. The emeu has been known to
lay eggs in England. Could we but once get them as
common inmates of gentlemen's parks and ornamental
grounds, who would say that the Acclimatisation Society
had not done some good? They would surely be great
pets with the ladies; and if the gentlemen must have
some sport out of them let them course them; it would,
however, require a good dog, barring a greyhound, to catch
them; and when the dogs did come up alongside them,
they would still have to keep clear of the kicks, which the
bird can give, if he pleases, with a vengeance. In the
yard were the Honduras turkeys, the guan, the dusky
ducks, the black-bone fowls, the rooks, the bronze-winged
pigeons, &c., &c. These creatures knew the master's foot-
fall, were all ready to receive him, and wherever he went
they dogged his footsteps, as though they knew that he
is their true friend and protector. But of all interesting
little birds commend me to the trumpeter birds. These
little creatures hail from South America. They are about
as big as a Guinea fowl, and instead of the cry of "
back," "come back," utter a peculiar musical note, whence
they derive their name of "trumpeter birds." These
birds are more than tame, they are as domesticated as dogs,
and seem unhappy if not in the society of their master
come
FISH CULTURE
143
and mistress. They sit outside the hall door, and, when
they have the chance, come trumpeting in along the hall
as though they knew they were trespassing, till they
arrive at the dining-room, where they will introduce them-
selves, and perch down with a lack of shyness which would
be invaluable to many of us. In their native country they
are said to be used to help the shepherd drive his flock,
and the story holds good, for Mr. Bartlett tells me that
when he wants to catch a bird out of the aviary at the
Zoological Gardens, where the trumpeter is, the bird will
see what he wants, and help to drive and cut off the
individual bird that is to be captured.
66
"The latest importation we visited was the wombat from
Australia. Mrs. Bush said he was like a big rat
"; we
agreed he rather was like "a little bear," but none of us
could see much of him, as he was still in his tin-lined case,
and as disagreeable as possible. We hauled him up to the
light to look at his formidable teeth and terrible scratching
claws, and were only glad to let him go again, when he
scuttled to the back of his box, and grunted defiance.
Never mind, Mr. Wombat; if Mr. and Mrs. Bush don't
tame you, and that very shortly, it will be indeed wonderful,
and you will be an ungrateful wombat. In a few days, I
hope, you will have learnt English manners under their
superintendence, and then, if you behave yourself, I will
introduce you to my readers.'
In 1864, Frank Buckland visited Paris, and personally
discussed pisciculture and acclimatisation with M. Coste
and other French savants interested in those subjects.
Both these interests were combined, in the endeavour
to introduce trout and salmon into our Australian colonies,
144
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
which he this year commenced in conjunction with Mr.
Youl. The success of this experiment was thus described
in the official report of Mr. Ffennell, the first Inspector of
Fisheries for England and Wales : —
'The most interesting event in the experiments that
have been made in artificial propagation, perhaps, is
that so successfully carried out in transmitting salmon
and trout ova to Australia. The first attempt failed.
The eggs were sent out placed in water-troughs in the
usual way; but, although ice was employed, it was found
that the water could not be kept in a state to enable the
tiny creatures to live through the voyage, although they
were hatched. An experiment was then tried by
embedding some ova in ice, at the Wenham Lake
Company's Stores in London, under the direction of Mr.
Frank Buckland. This scientific conception resulted in a
most valuable discovery; it was found that after in-
cubation had been thus suspended for over one hundred
days, the vitality of the ova had not been destroyed, and
when placed in running water, under the influence of a
natural atmosphere, that the fish came into the world
strong and healthy. A vessel was chartered and made
ready for the next spawning season, a good supply of ice
laid in, and a quantity of ova obtained and despatched;
it arrived safely, and, being placed in the waters of the
country for which it was destined, under suitable arrange-
ments, in due time produced its welcome offspring; they
have arrived at the smolt state, and have been enlarged
for their journey to the sea; their return as grilse will
be anxiously watched, and may be hopefully looked for.
Those who have carried out this very important under-
FISH CULTURE
145
taking so far, deserve the highest praise for their enter-
prising zeal, perseverance, and scientific skill in this effort
to introduce salmon into the waters of a far-off country,
where they were before unknown; and with the name of
Mr. Frank Buckland, before mentioned, who superintended
the scientific department, the names of Mr. Youl and Mr.
Wilson, of the Australian Acclimatisation Society, should
be recorded as taking a foremost part, undaunted by every
difficulty that arose, in the accomplishment of so in-
teresting and important an object.'
In the same year, Frank Buckland read a paper before
the Zoological Society on hybrids of fish and development
of their ova, giving the results of his experiments on
crossing the breed of salmon and trout. The whitebait
fishery was also examined, and papers were written iden-
tifying whitebait with the young of the herring and sprat,
associated with other young fish; and, amid more serious
labours, he examined and exposed the humbug of spirit-
rapping,' which was then in fashion.
In 1864, Mr. Ashworth, one of the chief promoters of
pisciculture in Ireland and the owner of valuable salmon
fisheries in Galway, invited Frank Buckland to come to
Ireland, and tell him what had become of all the salmon
fry he had hatched, and turned out in a rearing pond, in
order to stock Lough Mask with salmon. The mystery
was soon solved; the pond was found swarming with
Dytiscus, a carnivorous water-beetle. One of these creatures
was caught and put into a bottle with two little salmou,
which it killed and ate up before Mr. Ashworth's eyes, and
then suffered the penalty of its misdeeds.
L
146
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
Frank Buckland's first sight of salmon in the Irish
rivers awoke all his enthusiasm.'
'We came into Galway at dusk, tired, hungry, and dust-
covered, but greatly pleased at a prospect of a little hard
work out of doors. Early-bird fashion, I was up pretty soon.
to have a look about and a comfortable bath. I walked
up from the fishing-house to the weir, and just above the
bridge perceived a number of dark-looking objects lying
motionless in the glass-clear, ever-flowing water. The
morning sun was shining bright, and I was fearful my
shadow would fall on the objects, whatever they might
be; so I dropped instantly on my hands and knees, and
bending forward craned my neck at them, feeling a sensa-
tion, I should imagine, similar to that experienced by a
pointer dog, when making a discovery of a covey of par-
tridges on the 1st of September. Can those dark-looking
bodies, then, be salmon? Oh! you shining lovely crea-
tures! At last, then, I see you free and at liberty in your
native element. Mysterious water fairies, whence come ye?
Whither are ye going? Why do ye hide your lustrous
and beautiful figures in the unseen and unknown caverns
of the deep blue sea? Why do ye shun the eye of mortal
man? Hitherto I have seen only your lifeless, battered,
and disfigured carcases mummied in ice and lying in marble
state on fishmongers' slabs. Who could believe that in
life you are so wondrously beautiful, so mysterious, so
incomprehensible?
"The Galway salmon-ladder is a fine specimen of its
kind; it is constructed of solid slabs of stone admirably
placed. Letting myself down from the platform above, I
1 Curiosities of Natural History, Third Series, vol. i., p. 124.
[FISH CULTURE
147
observed that the water from the lake came through the
first slot or opening in a solid, quiet-looking, board-like
mass; but once in the steps of the ladder, it bubbled
and boiled famously like a young Niagara. Being in an
experimental turn of mind, I bethought me that I would,
for a moment, just try and see what sort of sensation the
salmon experienced when making their headway through
this cataract, and at the same time get a pleasant morning
bath. Oh! that I had scales and fins for five minutes,
thought I; never mind, I must do without them. I then
stepped into the ladder, but as quickly scrambled head
over heels out again, for the water had a strong will of
its own, and was terribly powerful, tripping up one's feet
in an instant. But it will never do to give it up; so I
made a cautious descent into the ladder, and, placing my
feet against the steps below me, imagined myself a salmon,
congratulated myself on narrow escapes from the nets and
the crevices below, and thought how very desirable it
would be to get up to autumn quarters in Lough Corrib
above. But all I could think or do, I could not advance
one single inch. If I moved, in an instant the water
knocked me about like a wood-chip in a street-gutter
after a thunderstorm. So I chose the corner of the
ladder where the water bubbled round, and sat there
in state, wishing and trusting that some salmon would
take it into his head to ascend the ladder while I was
there. We should hob-nob very well together, thought I;
and we will smoke the pipe of peace together. Presently
I heard a voice behind me, "Bedad, your honour, you're
the finest fish I ever see in this ladder this long time;
and, by the powers, if I had got a gaff in my hand, I'd just
C2
148
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
strike it into your scales and see how you would like it." I
looked up, and there was one of the water bailiffs, who,
watching me from afar off, could not imagine what curious
white-skinned creature had got into the ladder and was
floundering about in it.'
In October 1864 he visited the Bishop of Oxford at
Lavington.
October 5.-Started at 12.5 to the Bishop of Oxford's;
arrived there about 3 P.M. Out for a walk with the
Bishop and Archdeacon Randall; very pleasant conver-
sation together. Large party at dinner. The Bishop
very agreeable. Met Captain Henry, with his wife and
daughters, also Ernest and Basil Wilberforce.
'6th.-Pottering about, and showed them the oysters.
Out jack-fishing in the pond; missed three beauties. The
pony ran away with us twice, causing to self fear and
trepidation. Sat next the Bishop at dinner, and kept
the ball alive.
'7th.-Hunted rabbits with the Bishop's sons; then in
the run-away pony-carriage to the station and up to
London.'
We have had
The Bishop's note is, 'Lavington.
Frank Buckland down for a few days, and very good fun
he was; full of his natural history, and so simple and un-
affected as to make him really very charming indeed. He
has put them on trying to make the trout-fishing better;
so we are moving the sheep-wash, which, he says, poisons
the fish, to the bottom of Grafham village, and there are
to be regular spawning beds kept.'
To preserve and render popularly visible the results of
his investigations into fish-breeding, he now began to cast
FISH CULTURE
149
the roe of fish, and the forms of fish at different stages
of growth. For purely scientific purposes, it may be
preferable to preserve specimens in spirits, but such
specimens are of little value for popular exhibition.
Frank Buckland's aim was to render the facts of pisci-
culture plain to everyone, and for this purpose a coloured
cast appeared to him best to convey to the eye the facts
he wished to enforce. This was the beginning of that series
of casts of fish, which remains at South Kensington a
monument of his industry and scientific devotion.
'November 28, 1864.-All day in the kitchen casting
fish; the eel and the salmon; made some awful failures,
but did not knock anything to pieces.
'December 3.-Mr. Durham came to show me how to
make casts of fish.'
In this year Frank Buckland extended his investigations
to oyster culture; carefully examining the principal beds,
and making experiments on the spatting or breeding of the
oyster; and read an elaborate report on this subject at the
meeting of the British Association at Bath. A course of
lectures was also given before the Society of Arts, and three
lectures at the London Institution on the artificial breeding
of fish and oyster culture; he lectured also at Woolwich,
Bagshot, Clapham, Weybridge, and at Liverpool, and also in
Ireland. He also took part in the formation of a Company
for the culture of oysters at Herne Bay, and gave evidence
before the House of Commons on the subject. The Com-
pany, from which he afterwards withdrew, was not, from
various causes, ultimately successful.
The artificial culture of the oyster had long been carried
on in France, at Cancale and Arcachon, in a more elaborate
150
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
manner than had hitherto been attempted in England; and
the growing scarcity of oysters made it important to
inquire into the causes of their failure, and the best means
of increasing their supply.
Heat and tranquillity were the conditions necessary for
a good fall of 'spat,' as the oyster brood is called, and
there had been successive cold and stormy seasons at the
breeding time.
In the early summer, when the months have no 'r'in
their names, and oysters are out of season, the lady oyster
emits the grey 'spat,' which clouds the surrounding water
and floats to the surface. Seen under the microscope the
grey cloud is resolved into a multitude of sand-like grains,
each a minute bivalve oyster, but furnished with a row of
ciliæ or legs, with which the tiny creature makes haste to
swim away, in search of some hard substance, whether
rock or shell, or artificial tile, to which it can adhere.
Having steered their owner to some safe anchorage, the
ciliæ are no longer required, and the young oyster remains.
fixed for life, until three or four years later the fatal dredge
lifts him again to the surface, and he is carried off to
market.
If, when the spat is emitted, the water is cold or stormy,
the tiny oyster cloud sinks to the bottom and dies, while,
in warm calm weather, it spreads far and wide over the
rocks and shells, and forms a 'golden spat.'
Much, however, may be done in the way of culture by
placing the oysters in favourable breeding beds, strewn with
tiles, slates, old oyster shells, or other suitable 'culch' for the
spat to adhere to, and clearing the beds of the oysters' ene-
mies, the whelk-tingle, which bores a hole through the oyster
FISH CULTURE
151
shell with its sharp tongue, and the star-fish, or five-finger,
which clasps the oyster round, and, insinuating its slender
feelers between the shells, sucks out its life.
The position of the beds, too, and the food of the oyster
must be studied. The brackish water of estuaries, as at
Whitstable and Colchester, furnishes food; here are the
best fattening beds, and to them are transferred the young
oysters from the deep sea, where they develope thick shell
and little meat; but, laid down in the fatting beds, they
grow up thin-shelled and plump.
These, and other principles of oyster culture, Frank
Buckland studied and worked out, by personal observation
and familiar intercourse with the oyster dredgers; and
then strove, by lectures and writing, to make them
matters of common knowledge and interest to all classes
of people.
With what energy he threw himself heart and soul into
this work, and fish culture generally, his Diary shows. At
the close of 1864, he visited Galway, to examine the salmon
fisheries there, returning to England on New Year's Day,
1865. On January 5, he surveyed the Wye with the late
Mr. Ffennell, then one of the Inspectors of Fisheries. On
the 9th, he was collecting trout eggs at Lord Dorchester's.
On the 11th, at Lord Portsmouth's. On the 12th, he
visited the Duke of Marlborough, who always took a
warm interest in his pursuits. On the 13th, he returned
to London and published in successive weeks papers on
oyster culture in the Field.'
6
On January 27 he was at Aldermaston Park, Berks,
the seat of his friend, Mr. Higford Burr, superintending
the placing in his ponds of specimens of the Silurus
152
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
glumis, a large fish introduced from Austria, an operation
thus described:
'In the month of January 1865 Sir Stephen Lakeman,
who resides at Bucharest, in Wallachia, brought over to this
country eleven specimens of silurus. They were about one
foot long, and by any ordinary observer would have been
taken for the ordinary burbolt. My friend Mr. Higford
Burr, having prepared a pond to receive these valuable fish,
I took them down immediately, and turned them out in the
midst of a terrific snowstorm. On December 28, that is
when the fish had been in the pond about one year, Mr.
Burr let the water off the pond, and dragged it thoroughly
with a net. He and I then waded about in the soft, almost
dangerous, mud up to our waists, searching for the silurus
with landing nets, but not one alive or dead could we dis-
cover. The squire and myself then met in the middle of
the pond and shed tears, caused by the combined effect of
intense cold, laughter, and grief. We trust that the silurus
were buried for the winter deep in the mud, and we hope
to have another hunt for them next summer.'
On January 30 and February 2, 1865, he was again
in quest of eggs, wherewith to stock the fish-hatching
boxes, now, owing to his enthusiastic advocacy, multi-
plying in many quarters; and after dining on the 14th
at the Hunterian dinner, on the following day went to
Exeter to survey an oyster-bed. On the 28th he lectured
at Sheffield, on March 2 at Nottingham, while the weekly
natural history column of the 'Field' still had a full
share of his attention.
In March he went to Windsor several times, to examine
the fish-ponds, and set up fish-hatching boxes for the
FISH CULTURE
153
Queen, who took interest in this, as in everything affect-
ing the welfare of her people, and in the same month
he was appointed Fish Culturist to Her Majesty.
The Prince of Wales, and other members of the Royal
Family, showed a warm interest in his labours to increase
the food supply, and in April 1865, the Prince consented
to become president of the Acclimatisation Society, Bishop
Wilberforce also joining the council. The Prince Christian
consulted him on matters affecting the deer and other
denizens of Windsor Forest, of which His Royal Highness
was ranger.
In this year he gave evidence before the Royal Com-
mission on sea fisheries, and also before parliamentary
committees on the fishery of the Thames, and the oyster-
beds of the river Roach, and advised the Home Office as to
the pollution of rivers, one of the most serious obstacles
to the improvement of river fisheries.
Other lectures were also given explaining and advo-
cating fish and oyster culture, and practical natural history,
at the Russell Institution, thrice at the London Institution
at Streatham and Islington, besides country lectures at
Southampton, Canterbury, and Worcester.
In May 1865, Frank Buckland was appointed Scientific
Referee to the South Kensington Museum, and gave there
a course of lectures, and of class demonstrations. On
receiving this appointment, he commenced at once trans-
ferring to the Museum his collection illustrative of fish and
oyster culture. He had already shifted all his fish down to
the Horticultural Gardens, about 16,500 young fish and
eggs, and henceforth devoted much labour and time to the
preparation of specimens for the cases, which should illus-
154
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
trate his lectures, and inform the public on the subject he
had at heart.
In the autumn a paper was read before the British
Association at Birmingham on the progress of oyster cul-
ture. His Journal records a variety of social experiences:
visits to the Duke of Northumberland, the Duke of Marl-
borough, Lord Dorchester, Lord Burleigh, and others;
also to see the Chinese giant; dined with him. Dinner-
party to the giant.'
C
155
CHAPTER VIII.
'LAND AND WATER': 1866.
IN January 1866, the third series of 'Curiosities of Natural
History' was published, and, having now parted company
with the 'Field,' Frank Buckland, in association with some
friends, started 'Land and Water,' as an independent chan-
nel for diffusing knowledge of practical natural history, and
fish and oyster culture. This paper soon attained a con-
siderable circulation, due mainly to the interest his articles
excited.
The organisation of the paper was a work of much
labour and anxiety. The editing of the department of
Practical Natural History was indeed a labour of love,
but a very engrossing one.
January 25.—All day at "Land and Water" office,
getting ready the proofs.
' 26th.-All day at "Land and Water."
'27th.- Worked at articles. "Land and Water" born
at two in the morning.'
'Let none,' he wrote in the first number, 'think him-
self unable to advance the great cause of practical natural
history. Thousands of Englishmen and Englishwomen
have knowledge and experience, acquired by their own
actual observation of useful facts relating to animated
beings, be they beasts, birds, insects, reptiles, fishes or
156.
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
1
$
plants. Friendly controversy and argument is invited on all
questions of practical natural history, and although the
Odium Salmonicum not unfrequently assumes more viru-
lence than even the Odium Theologicum of the good old
days of faggot and stake, no writer need fear that his
pet theory shall be ruthlessly set on fire, or that his argu-
ments shall be decapitated, without a fair and patient
hearing.'
His contributions to 'Land and Water' took the place
of the correspondence of other men. Write to "Land and
Water" he used to say when questioned on any subject,
'I will answer you there.'
The incidents of his life were here narrated, the
facts and observations he was ever accumulating were
here recorded. Many of these papers have been recast
and republished; others, hereafter extracted, may show the
variety of subjects with which he dealt, and give a more
vivid reflection of the writer's intellect and character.
These are examples from early numbers :—
'While lecturing lately at Worcester, a friend said to
me, “Buckland, it is a very curious thing, but the salmon
in the Seame always jump at the weir, at eleven o'clock
on Sunday morning." I said it was a very singular thing,
but he assured me that it was so. I shortly after met
another friend, and I asked him also as to the time when
the salmon jump most at the weir; and his reply was,
66 At
eleven o'clock on Sunday morning, when they hear the
church bells ring; it is the church bells that make them
jump." I could not at the time make head or tail of this
story, but I have since solved the difficulty. It is not the
church bells that make them jump; but it so happens that
'LAND AND WATER'
157
on Sunday morning, the mills being shut down, the water
comes down over the weirs in greater abundance than on
any other day of the week; the salmon find this out, and,
like wise fish, make the best of their time in endeavouring
to get over the weir.'
We
'The snails sent me have been carefully fattened on
lettuce leaves, and I have eaten them. I fully agree with
the gardener that they are "better nor a winkle."
send up large numbers of the common edible whelk
from our oyster fishery at Herne Bay to the London
market, and I have frequently tasted them on the London
stalls, and I rather like them. The land snails are not
quite so good as whelks, but perhaps I made a mistake
in preparing them; for my cook fled from the kitchen
in dismay when told to cook the snails for dinner, and I
was obliged to boil them myself.'
'Of fossil oysters, sent me from Chislehurst, there are alto-
gether ten specimens, and I have no hesitation in pronoun-
cing them to be natives of the first class. I showed them
to an oyster merchant, who pronounced them to be worth
(if not unfortunately fossil) about sixty shillings per bushel.
The series is most instructive; we have two beautiful
little specimens of thorough-bred "brood" from one to one
and a half inches' in diameter; for a similar sample the
present market price is from a guinea to twenty-five
shillings per wash. Then we have three specimens the
size of marketable oysters; once plump, handsome, aris-
tocratic-looking natives, now as solid as marble itself.
Then we have three specimens of oysters, which in the
present stage would be considered too large for the London
market, and would be thrown back on the bed to spawn.
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
I have a "rough Whitstable" which exactly matches one
of these fossil oysters, both in size and appearance-one
might take them for twins. Lastly, we have specimens of
the "culch”¹ of the period. On one shell there are eight
spats, on another fifteen; another is a bouquet or family
party of seven. Oh, happy, happy days when there was a
good crop of oysters every year, instead of, as now, once in
every five or six years!
C
Now, what deductions are we to make from these fossil
oysters? Chislehurst is situated about eight miles (as the
crow flies) from Erith, which is the nearest point on the
Thames and at Erith the water is fresh and quite un-
suited for oysters. These creatures must therefore have
lived in times long anterior to our own, when neither
Ancient Briton, Gaul, Saxon, Roman or Norman had yet
placed a foot upon our soil, when the "London Clay" was
deposited by the vast river which then drained lands now
gone from human sight; and, possibly, at the time when
logs of date and cocoa-nut and palm trees, perforated by
sea-worms, were washed up upon the shores of the Isle of
Sheppey, indicating an arrangement of continent and a
drift of marine currents, differing widely from those now
existing.
These oysters probably lived in a pre-Adamic Whit-
stable in some ancient estuary, the situation of which is
now faintly outlined by the course of the river Cray; there
they lived a happy life, with no fear of dredges, cleaning
harrows, or cultacks (instruments used in separating
oysters grown too thickly together), till one day there came
a heavy gale of wind at a high spring-tide, carrying with
¹ Old oyster-shells laid down on the bed to catch the spat.
'LAND AND WATER'
159
it a marine sirocco of fine sand and mud; the storm fell
upon the poor oysters; some of them opened their shells
only to be filled with sand and become "clocks" (technical
term for dead oysters when the two shells remain joined at
the hinge). Have we not evidence of this now before our
eyes? Others, again, locked and bolted down their shells,
thinking (like the people who ran into their cellars when
Pompeii was destroyed) thus to escape the sand storm ; but
it was of no use; the whole family of these unfortunate
oysters was smothered in its bed, and, converted into fossils,
are now to be turned out into light. I will gladly place
these oysters in my museum.'
He only found time for literary work by the constant
habit of writing while travelling on the railway; a large
proportion of his articles were thus written, and those
most rapidly dashed off were often the most successful.
He thus made time to lecture in January and February
at Hereford, Brecon, Leeds, Halifax and Bradford, and
later on at Norwich and Herne Bay. The Journal of two
weeks may serve as a further example of the activity
of his life.
January 8, 1866.-By the 11.45 train went to Here-
ford with Ponder. Lloyd met us at the station, and took
us both over to Huntingdon Court.
'9th.—With Lloyd in carriage to Hereford. Put all
my things out in Town Hall. Lectured in the Shire Hall
on salmon and oysters. The Dean in the chair. Gave a
stupid lecture; much too anxious to do well, and spoke
very much too quickly.
'10th.-To Brecon; put things out for lecture, then
tried for salmon in the brook by D's house; got one
160
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
fine hen, but could not get a cock for her anywhere, a
very great pity. Lectured at Brecon; gave a splendid
lecture, because I took my time.
'11th.-Up very early; took pair-horse carriage to the
farmhouse close to a tributary of the Usk; put in the net,
the current took it away in a moment; missed two splendid
fish. Then tried river near the ford; got two fine cock
fish, no hen. Then tried ford, and got one hen half spent,
and another hen quite full. Back to Hereford by the
5.30 train.
12th. By 9.45 train to Ross; met 1.40 train; Ponder
there; with him up to London.
'13th.-Man brought heading for "Land and Water."
Meeting of Herne Bay Company. Took second lot of salmon
eggs down to South Kensington. Thus ended a most
agreeable week, most pleasantly spent, in which I have
given and received much instruction.'
18th. To church twice. Dick, the rat, stole away
two five-pound notes from my drawers.
' 19th.-Finished packing up my things for Leeds, and
away by the 12 train.'
1
' 20th.—Walked about all the morning, and got lots of
information about oysters. Gave my lecture at the Philo-
sophical Museum; I am thankful to say it was a great
success. Horsfall and another cross-examined me after
the lecture.
'21st.-Packed up my things, and away to Halifax.
Much pressed for time; but, nevertheless, got lecture ready,
and also sent back my proofs to London for "Land and
Water." Gave a capital lecture for two hours, and much
complimented by the chairman.
'LAND AND WATER'
161
'22nd.-Went on to Bradford; nobody at the lecture-
room to receive me; much disappointed at this. Wrote
more "Land and Water." At 8.30, gave the lecture pretty
well I believe, but the exertion very great, my brain being
quite worn out.
· 23rd.—Came home by 5.30 express. Glad enough to
get home after the tremendous hard week, and thankful
to God for my preservation of body and strength of mind
to go through the matter.'
His experiences in collecting salmon ova at Brecon
before his lecture are thus told:
There are many serious difficulties to be overcome
before the ova, either of trout or salmon, can be obtained,
and they are not, as some folks would seem to think, to be
picked up as easily as one can get hens' eggs out of the
nests in a farm-yard hen-roost. Salmon ova are, for
obvious reasons, more difficult to obtain than trout ova. I
will, therefore, now give some idea how I obtained my last
batch; for, it must be recollected, before you can get the
eggs, you must catch the fish, and to do this requires both
time and experience.
'On looking out of the window of the hotel at early
morning, I was horrified to find the ground thickly covered
with snow, which was still falling heavily; it was the day
of the great snowstorm, that did so much injury to the
telegraph wires all over the country. We shall not care
so much for the snow, I thought to myself, but I fear the
river will have swollen much in the night, and render it
very difficult for us to manage the nets. I therefore at
once went on to the bridge, and sure enough she—I like
the idea so common in some places of calling the river she
M
162
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
-was coming down in fine style. As I looked over the
lower arch of the bridge, I saw the water rushing through
the buttresses like a huge mass of solid window glass, such
as we see sometimes at the manufactories, giving one the
same sort of giddy feeling, that it is difficult to help ex-
periencing, when the express runs at full speed by the
narrow platform of an intermediate station. On going to
the upper side of the bridge, I peeped gently over, and my
eyes were gladdened at seeing in the bed of the river a
huge mass of stones and gravel, about as much as would
fill three or four railway wheelbarrows, turned up in the
middle of the river; this I knew at once to be a salmon's
nest. Presently came sailing down stream sideways, re-
minding me much of a cavalry horse going through the
exercise of shoulders-in in the riding school, a fine old
male salmon, evidently, with his wife, the founder of this
subaqueous edifice. The old fellow's coat was as red as a
fox, and his great beak projected from his lower jaw,
rendering him indeed a formidable opponent to any other
salmon. On seeing me watching him from the bridge, he
suddenly halted, winked his cunning eye at me, and was
off in a moment, doubtless to warn his amiable spouse that
there was something wrong, and that she had better keep
out of the way for a few hours. Just then a man came
down to the side of the stream, with a huge bundle of
sheepskins on his back, and a stick with a cowhorn on the
end. He at once began to wash the sheepskins in the
river, twisting them about with his cowhorn-stick, an
instrument most admirably adapted for the purpose.
"Ex-
perientia does it," I thought, but I must have a word with
the old man. On going close to the skins, I found they
'LAND AND WATER'
163
were the skins of Welsh sheep, and that the tails were
left on.
I immediately fell in love with one of the tails,
made a bargain for it, cut it off the skin, and it was hauled
out of the water. It really was a splendid bushy tail, and
I hoped to have it mounted as a specimen of the "local
products" of the place, and a rival to the yak's tail in the
South Kensington Museum. Alas! vain are the hopes of
man; my sheep's tail has disappeared; the servants at home
know nothing about it; and I find, to my sorrow, that my
big Turkish wolf-dog, Arslan, like his master, fell in love
with it, and has eaten it up, wool and all.
'My water-dress put on, the nets and cans, &c. packed,
we started in a carriage, with a pair of fast horses, for a
brook, which we calculated would not be running so much
water as the main river. Our theory was right; but still
there was too much water to render netting anything but
very hard work. A pair of salmon had been marked
down the day before; so taking out the pole of the pole-net
(reader, imagine an old-fashioned, bag-shaped night-cap,
with a stick fastened on each side of it, and you have a
pole-net), I attempted to cross the stream, at a spot below
where the salmon were supposed to be, and, with great
difficulty (on account of the huge stones and tremendous
stream, about an inch over the waist), I got across, and
then, sticking the iron-shod end of the pole into the
bottom of the river, I got to the lower side of the pole, so
as to resist the pressure with my shoulder, while one of the
keepers held on to the pole on the other side of the bank.
My friends and the keepers then went about eighty yards
up the stream, and began to beat it down, and to throw
a shower of stones into the rapid, foam-coloured brook.
M 2
164
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
•
Almost instantly I perceived coming down stream, with the
rapidity of a partridge's flight as he tops a hedge, two
huge bodies and two black fins at the surface of the water.
"Look out," cried my friend above, "they are coming
down." It was with difficulty that I could hold the empty
net against the stream, but when the two great fish came
rushing on, all steam up, with a double-barrelled bang,
bang, against the net, the whole apparatus was nearly
jerked out of my hands. The instant the fish were in the
net, I tried to scramble across the brook to the other side,
with the pole in my hand, so as to enclose the fish and
catch them. A huge stone was in the way, and, being
over-anxious, I stumbled, and the stream as nearly as
possible had me down; then, to add to my difficulties,
just at that moment something ran between my legs, and
nearly upset me altogether. "Oh dear! Oh dear!" I
cried, one of the salmon is gone, but we have got the
other, for I can feel it jerking in the net." We hauled it
quickly on shore, and my eyes were gladdened by the sight
of a splendid hen salmon as full of eggs as could be, but
remonstrating terribly in her way at the rude manner in
which we were interfering with her domestic arrangements.
I took her gently by the wrist, the thin part of a salmon's
tail, and then let her down into the net I use for keeping
fish alive, and went to work to catch her husband. We
marked him down under a bank, but, when we came to try
for him, he was gone, having crawled in, as it were, under
the roots of an old pollard tree, from whence no amount of
stirring with sticks or pelting with stones would make him
budge an inch; so Sir Salmon beat us after all. We then
made three distinct pitches with the nets higher up the
66
'LAND AND WATER'.
165
stream. We caught two more salmon, but none suited for
our purpose. It was getting dark, and we were all very wet
and cold; so we adjourned the meeting till the next day.
I have heard it said that the salmon has a small brain, and
is therefore a stupid thing; for my own part, I think that
though his brain is small, he can use it well.
An angler,
not long since, was fishing a stream in Ireland, and he cast
his fly in a manner which did not meet with the appro-
bation of the keeper, who repeatedly found fault with him.
"Well," said the gentleman, "what matter can it be to
you? I have leave to fish, and I shall fish as I like, and I
shall throw my line in the manner that pleases me best."
"So you may, your honour," said the keeper; "but you'll
catch no fish. Bedad! Does your honour think the fish
have got no sense?"
'Of all disagreeable sensations, nothing comes up to
the delights of having to ride in an open carriage some
five or six miles, on a bitter cold day in January, with
one's wet clothes on; and if to this be added a ravenous
appetite, and no commissariat forthcoming, the pleasures
of salmon-egg collecting can be fully realised.
'While lighting my pipe to rest a bit before further
work, I said to my friend, "Did you ever hear the yarn
of the Yorkshire gamekeeper and the pike? If not, here
goes:-A keeper, strolling one day by the side of a stream,
with his bull-terrier dog at his heels, came upon a man
who was intently fishing for pike, one of which he had just
landed, and which was then hopping about on the grass,
not at all comfortable, in about as bad a humour as it is
possible for even this surly fish to be. 'Hollo!' says the
keeper, putting on as simple an appearance as he could,
166
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
and eyeing the fish with a sort of curious gaze, 'would that
fish bite ?' C
Why, I don't know,' said the angler, dili-
gently plying away; 'you can put your finger into his
mouth and try him.' 'Oh, no,' says the keeper, drawing
back; but I'll try my dog's tail if you don't mind.' 'Not
at all, I shan't feel it,' was the reply. Accordingly the
keeper, having caught his dog, put his tail in the pike's
mouth. No sooner did the pike feel the tail than he took
hold, fixing his sharp teeth deeply into it. The dog imme-
diately ran off at his hardest, singing 'pen and ink,' making
his way home as fast as his legs would carry him.
this the keeper laughed heartily; not so the angler, who
sang out in his loudest voice, 'Oh, I say, Mr. Keeper, call
back your dog.' 'Not I,' says the keeper, walking away;
you call back your pike.'
"""
At
At Leeds, Halifax, and Bradford, Frank Buckland en-
deavoured by his lectures to impress on manufacturers the
importance of fish culture, to enlist their sympathies, and
induce them to concur in the precautions and legislation
necessary to check the pollution of rivers by the waste
products discharged from manufactories, a chief obstacle
to the preservation and propagation of fish.
'Perhaps the most unfortunate thing in the world,'
he said in one of the lectures given during this journey,
'is the salmon. Everybody and everything, from the
otter to the fisherman, persecutes him. He is naturally
an inhabitant of the sea. He runs up the rivers, and
would almost jump into the pot on the kitchen fire if
allowed, but every effort is put forth to keep him at a
distance. He gets fat in the sea, though what his food is
nobody quite knows. He is in the habit, however, of
'LAND AND WATER'
167
going up the rivers to his country quarters in the moun-
tains, along with his wife and family. Then almost at the
outset, he is caught by a seal lying in wait for him, as in
the Tay, for instance. Then comes a net, then a weir, and
next a steamer frightens him back; then the refuse from
towns forces him to choose between returning and being
poisoned. The weirs across rivers are the main cause why
our fisheries have fallen off; yet all that is wanted is a fish-
ladder, a series of steps or boxes extending up over the
weir. If the salmon succeeds in leaping the weir, he next
meets with an angler, who may however fail to hook him;
then on arriving at his proposed destination, he encounters
the poacher, who tries to spear him with a trident.
Escaping him, the salmon at last reach their breeding
place, where Mistress Salmon begins stirring up the gravel
with her tail, and making a hollow nest wherein to lay her
eggs, of which the hard roe of the fish consists, a salmon
carrying about 850 eggs for every pound weight. The
trout then comes to eat the eggs; next a whole swarm of
flies and insects; then the water-ouzel, who goes to eat
the flies, is shot by ourselves, under the idea that the
bird is after the eggs, and not after the flies. Other
enemies come; the jack, and the otter who follows the
little salmon on their way to the sea, where the angler-
fish lies in wait for them. The result is that not one egg
out of ten thousand ever becomes food for man.'
Wasteful destruction of young fish, by the ignorance
or carelessness of fishermen, Frank Buckland also strove
to check.
A visit to a fishing weir in July 1866, and the destruc-
tion of young fish there, he thus described:-
168
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
saw;
'At Hampton, near Herne Bay, there is a weir built
out from the foreshore into the sea, and an old man, one
Judy (quære Judah) Downs, has the right of fishing it.
Judy lives close by his weir, in the queerest house one ever
it is built upon piles apparently of the jetsam and
flotsam of the ocean, a compound of old boats, wrecks of
ships, and tarred brown paper. It is on the very edge of
the shore, and some stormy night, Judy, house and all, will
most certainly disappear from the face of the earth. When
at Hampton, on the business of the Herne Bay Oyster
Fishery Company, I saw old Judy suddenly poke his head
out of his house, like a rat out of his hole, and look at the
weir. Seeing that the tide was nearly down, the old man
came out, harnessed his pony to a carrying machine (a
hybrid between a wheelbarrow and a costermonger's cart),
threw two buckets and a landing net into the cart, and
trundled down the shingle. I was very soon after him to
see the fun, and Judy was kind enough to do the honours.
At each corner of the weir is a little private apartment,
into which all the unfortunate fish, which happen to be
inside the weir when the tide goes down, retire as a last
effort. Judy's pony was outside the private apartment, and
as I came up I heard a bobbing up and down, as the old
man was thrashing away at some live fish under the water.
I soon came up, and saw Judy was endeavouring to kill a
"curio" which was floundering about in the weeds and mud.
“Don't ye go and touch him, sir, he will sting ye, sir; for
he is a poison fish, he is." This made me more anxious, and
at last the "poison fish" was jerked out high and dry with
a long stick, and Judy ran to the cart for a bill-hook.
'LAND AND WATER'
169
"What are you up to now, Judy?" "Up to, sir; why, chop
his tail off, to be sure, his poison lies in his tail." "Stop!
you will spoil the curio," I shouted. "I will buy him of
you if you leave his tail on; but I won't have him if you
cut it off." So I watched the poison fish, and soon saw that
it was a fine specimen of the 'sting-ray' (Raia pastinaca).
The fellow is not unlike a common skate, except that he
has a brown, slimy, chocolate-coloured skin, and a long tail
that tapers to a point like a driving whip. About two-
thirds of the way down this tail are situated two long sharp-
pointed spines, one above the other. They are shaped
exactly like an old Roman sword, and their edges are jagged
into numerous fine needle-shaped teeth, placed one above
the other, and most terrible weapons of offence and defence.
they are. The sting-ray knew their power, for whenever
he was touched, snap round came his tail towards the in-
truding object, as quick as a whip lash round a gig-shaft.
I put my capture into a nice muddy place, where he could
lash away with his tail as much as he liked, and die at his
leisure. He did not take things quietly at all, but every now
and then tried to raise himself up on his great wing-like
fins, and at the same time uttered the most extraordinary
groan-like noises, like a man with a very bad toothache.
When dead I had a good look at his face. It is like that
of a very hideous baby in the act of perpetual crying. His
teeth are very small, as though nature had taken out the
two largest teeth from his mouth and stuck them into his
tail. My friend has since been immortalised in plaster-of-
paris.
6
Having done with the sting-ray, I returned to Judy,
170
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
who was scraping the fish up in his landing net, and
filling his buckets with a wriggling mass. The chief of his
gore-
capture of slimy fish and eels were what he called "
bills," that is those curious long-beaked, green-coloured fish
known also as "gar-pike." The poor gore-bills were in a
desperate state of alarm as Judy gathered them up in his
net; they were only young gore-bills, about six inches
long, but I afterwards bought an old gore-bill which mea-
sured twenty-seven inches long. I immediately stripped
off all his flesh and made him quite a skeleton to show his
bones, which are of a bright green colour-the green, in
fact, of verdigris on an old copper ship; why nature should
give these fish green bones, skull and all, I know not,
but it is a fact. The fish, moreover, are not poisonous, for
I ate half a dozen of them for supper, and felt all the
better for it.
'As the tide left the weir, I saw a sight that made my
piscicultural heart sad, viz., the destruction of such large
quantities of young fry. In the first place, the lower part
of the weir was quite silvered with-think, think of it, ye
epicures! with whitebait, pretty silver and green, large-
eyed whitebait, flapping their little innocent tails in the
mud, gasping for water, breathing only the fatal air.
These are veritable whitebait, the "smig" of the Thames.
whitebait fishermen, and the young of-well, we want a dis-
cussion-Clupea alba, the old whitebait. "Judy, what do
you do with these whitebait ?" said I. "Oh! I takes no
notice of them things," was the answer.
and puts 'em into a pickle bottle, they are capital bait for
eels. See here, sir: this eel is ready to bust with them;
eels like whitebait, sir." "So do others besides eels,"
"I picks 'em up
'LAND AND WATER'
171
thought I. May not the origin of the word whitebait be
thus accounted for? The fish are white, and they are
used for bait.
""Do you catch many of these little fish, Judy ?"
"Bless 'e, sir, there is bucketfuls sometimes in the weir,
and I just let's 'em lay." "Say no more, Judy, I beg, my
feelings will not bear it. But what is all that mass of live
things in the corner?" "Oh! them's a lot of little things,
they ain't no good." So I shovelled up half a bucketful of
them just as they came, and sorted them out. Here is
the catalogue.
<
:
C
Imprimis, Several little soles, the largest about three
inches long. 2nd. Many hundreds of little flounders
and plaice, from the size of a shilling upwards. 3rd.
Among the whitebait were considerable numbers of a
little fish, which when alive is transparent: these little
transparent fish form a great part of the whitebait put on
our tables the whitebait fishermen call them Rooshans,'
because they first appeared in the nets at the time of
the Russian war: they are the young of the weaver or
adder fish, the fish that has three sharp spines on his back,
which he can erect at will; they are not uncommon on
sandy shores, and inflict severe wounds on the feet of
bathers, who tread on them when buried in the sand, as
is the habit of this fish. 4th. I found the common sand eel
(Ammodytes) and its young just hatched out. 5th. Several
tiny thread-like, sharp-billed, jelly-like, long-billed bodies,
which are baby "gore-bills." 6th. Curious eel-like fish,
with an ugly, pert-looking head, and frill down the back
(like the frill to an old beau's dining-out shirt), and a spotted
and exceedingly slimy body; their local name is "slippers'
>>
. 172
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
because they slip from the hand so easily. Lastly, we have
many specimens of various curious, ugly-looking small
fish, and their young, like miller's thumbs. Here, for
once, I agree with Judy that this fish, at all events," ain't
of no account.'
""
'The destruction weirs of this kind must do, if greatly
multiplied along the mouths of rivers, must be very great.
Judy's weir catches, as we have seen, the young of no less
than seven kinds of fish. There are, however, no other
weirs near Judy's, and very little trawling outside; so
that, after all, the weir, in this instance at least, may be
practically as harmless as Judy himself, though the old
man did bring an action against the Herne Bay Company
for taking away shingle from the foreshore opposite his
mansion--a regular centaur among dwellings-half-boat,
half-house.'
In this year and henceforward Frank Buckland la-
boured hard at fish-casting.
March 6.-Cast the enormous salmon of 70 lbs. weight;
began at 6.30 and left off at 12.10 in the morning.'
'June 7.-Cast the big carp; sat up to 12.15 to
do it.
'8th.-Began to work at the casting at 8, and left off
at 8.45 P.M. Finished the big carp, and weighed the roe;
it was 34 lbs.'
In like manner, remarkable specimens of jack, porpoise,
shark, sturgeon, maigre, and other fish, were cast with
immense labour and pains, and placed in his museum.
His large fish nursery at South Kensington was also
a constant care, and this year met with misadventures.
'April 25.-Water cat off from the fish at the Horti-
'LAND AND WATER'
173
cultural Gardens. Neville called me up at 12.30; at the
Gardens till 4.15 following morning, but saved many fish.'
France was ahead of England in pisciculture, and, in
August of this year, two fishery exhibitions were held in
France, at Arcachon and at Boulogne. To each of these
Frank Buckland sent exhibits; models of fish-passes, and
other apparatus, and a series of specimens of various kinds
of oysters, and he received from each exhibition a silver
medal.
At Boulogne he was nominated one of the judges, and
wrote thence the following account of the opening pro-
ceedings:-
Boulogne has good reason to be proud of herself.
Not only is she a most agreeable watering-place for
loungers, both French and English, but she is the principal
sea-fishing port of northern France.
'She has now added fresh laurels to her crown, by
this exhibition, which promises so well that entire success
seems already to be secured.
The science of fish-culture, up to almost the present
time but feebly supported in England, has been taken
up by our neighbours in France in a manner which,
speaking as an Englishman, makes me feel quite ashamed
of my country.
With all her salmon fisheries, her oyster fisheries,
and her deep-sea fisheries, England seems behindhand in
bringing her information to a focus, and forming a high
'Change at which ideas and practical information may be
interchanged with other nations and with the fishers of
the United Kingdom on the all-important subject of fish-
culture.
174
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
'Things are different on the Continent. Amsterdam
led the way, and Bergen followed in shewing to the
world that aquiculture was worthy of a place in the school
of practical sciences, by the side of her elder sister agri-
culture. France, with a quickness and foresight which
do her credit, seized the idea, and two exhibitions of
aquiculture are actually at this moment open in France,
one at Arcachon, almost on the borders of Spain; the
other at Boulogne, only four hours from Charing Cross.
'Having received an invitation from the authorities of
the Boulogne Exhibition to act in an official capacity at
this international undertaking, and to co-operate with the
committee, I gladly availed myself of the opportunity of
forwarding the good cause..
'We were informed that the assembly would take
place at the Préfecture, in full evening dress. If there is
anything that an Englishman abominates, it is a black
"claw-hammer" coat (as the Yankees call it) and a
white neckcloth at noonday; but we were obliged to
submit. The reception was a grand affair; the company
assembled in a grand salon, reminding one much of an
English levée. The civil uniforms of the town and country
authorities contrasted well with those of the officers of the
regiments of chasseurs, quartered in the town, headed by
the commanding officer of the garrison of Boulogne, a fine
old soldier, whose medal-covered breast showed that he
had indeed seen long and active service in his country's
cause. Besides these, were present some cavalry and en-
gineer officers, and the officers of the two French men-of-
war, the "Cuvier" and the "Bison," which had come to
Boulogne to assist at the Exhibition. The "Cuvier "
is, I
'LAND AND WATER'
175
believe, employed in guarding the French fisheries. It is
a pretty idea to call her by the name of the great French
naturalist. When will the day arrive that our Admiralty
will pay a similar compliment to English science, and
launch the "Professor Owen" gunboat from the slips at
Portsmouth?
'The prebendaries of the cathedral church of the town
were also represented.
The procession through the streets was intended to
have been most imposing; but no sooner were we clear of
the hall-door than it began to rain steadily, and with a
real English determination, as though the clerk of the
weather had not been invited, and showed that he in-
tended to put a damper on the proceedings.
'The procession immediately broke up like a flock of
wild ducks suddenly scared by a gun-shot. We sounded
a trot, and at length arrived at the Exhibition building
with our "claw-hammers" thoroughly saturated with rain
and our white ties starchless. A canopy had been pro-
vided outside the building, and from a rostrum the prefect
was to have publicly delivered his address. No sooner,
however, was he seated in a wet chair than down came
the rain, and also certain uninvited guests, for the winds,
jealous of their influence on the fisheries being ignored,
put in an appearance in force :-
Venti velut agmine facto
Qua data porta ruunt, et terras turbine perflant.
Incubuere mari totumque a sedibus imis
Una Eurusque Notusque ruunt creberque procellis
Africus, et vastos volvunt ad littora fluctus.
Eneid, I.
The winds fairly beat off the prefect and the com-
176
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
mission from the platform, and the meeting was adjourned
inside the building.
'The speeches ended, a procession of the wives of the
Boulogne fishermen, who sell in the market the produce of
their husbands' toil at sea, entered the hall. They were
all dressed in their well-known and picturesque costume-
white caps, red petticoats, lace lappets, embroidered shawls,
and enormous gold earrings. "La belle Caroline "-the
Belle of Boulogne some fifty years since, now the matron
among the fishermen's wives-presented the prefect with
a magnificent bouquet of flowers, and delivered an address,
which the dear old lady spoke out without hesitation, and
with the least possible indication of nervousness.
'At a given signal there came a sudden crash of music,
and the Orphéon Musical Society sang a "Cantata" in
honour of this important event in the annals of their
native town. The prefect then again came forward and
declared the Exhibition open.
'The ceremonies over, I was truly glad to rush to the
hotel and resume my ordinary day costume. Having been
hard at work, in my shirt sleeves, arranging my specimens,
this was the first moment I had to examine the Exhibition
and its contents.
'Extending the whole length of the roof of the hall,
was a gigantic net, the dimensions of the meshes of which
were eight inches from knot to knot. One end of the net
was formed with a series of hoops, one behind the other,
the largest being about ten feet in diameter. From these
hoops extended, as it were, wings, each wing measuring
ninety Danish ells, or sixty yards English. This net was,
as the Danish representative informed me, for the capture
'LAND AND WATER'
177
of "saal hunde" or "seal dogs." I understand that the
net is quietly dragged up to the mouth of the cave, where
the seals are, and a pistol being suddenly fired, the seals
rush out and are captured. If ever there was a net made
which would catch Pontoppidan's sea-snake (the Scoliophis
atlanticus of the Americans), this is the one. We must
not yet, therefore, despair of sending Professor Owen a
slice for his dinner, and a skeleton for the British Museum.
That this net is of practical use is evident, as it has at
once been bought for the use of northern seal fisheries."
In September, Frank Buckland again brought before
the British Association, at Nottingham, a paper on the
culture of a salmon river, and also a report on oyster
culture, 'which met with great success.'
In the same month, a public meeting was held at
Maidstone, to consider the adoption of measures for stock-
ing the Medway with salmon and other fish, when he care-
fully examined the Medway, with a view to advise on the
steps to be taken. This,' he notes, 'is the first inspec-
tion I ever made.'
6
The following extracts from the private note-book of
1865 and 1866 show the simple-hearted, quaint, yet earnest
way in which he now regarded his success and prospects
in life:-
'I really cannot help thinking, that the Almighty God
has given me great powers, both of thought and of ex-
pressing these thoughts. Thanks to Him, but I must
cultivate my mind by diligent study, careful reflection in
private, and intense and quick observation of facts out of
doors, combined with quick appreciation of ideas of others.
In fact, strive to become a master mind, and thus able to
N
178
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
influence others of weaker minds, whose shortcomings I
must forgive.
I am like a ship at sea; my instructions are to do
good and earn a livelihood. I must carry on board a
cargo of information, with a sound ballast of truth, so that
when a sudden breeze strikes the sail, and throws the ship
on her side, the ballast will right her. There are so many
waves-stormy, cold, white-faced waves of opposition-un-
kindness, and unconcern to encounter, that one need have
good timbers.
(
Why should not I imitate the example of that great
and illustrious man, to whom I owe so much of my
education, and especially "manners makyth man," and
endeavour to do as much public good as possible in my
humble way? I will therefore begin next week, and put
up a storm barometer, for the use of the fishermen at
Herne Bay. William of Wykeham had large funds, I have
small; but I can do good in my humble way. (I erected
this August 1865. It is still up, 1870.)
'March, 1866.-I now am working from 8 A.M to 6 P.M.
and then a bit in the evening-fourteen hours a day; but,
thank God, it does not hurt me. I should, however, collapse
if it were not for Sunday. The machinery has time to get
cool, the mill-wheel ceases to patter the water, the mill-
head is ponded up, and the superfluous water let off by an
easy quiet current, which leads to things above.
'December 16, 1866.-To-morrow is my birthday, and
I shall be forty years old. I have much to be thankful
for to the Almighty. I have good health and a mind
gradually improving and consolidating. I have been
through much; but, thanks be to God, I have preserved a
'LAND AND WATER'
179
straight course to the best of my abilities, and though I
see others taking short cuts, I think honest dealing and
true is the safest ballast to keep the ship in trim, through
the sea of difficulties and dangers. If I have health and
strength, I shall persevere in this course.
'The ship is still in good order, ballast not shifted, and
the blocks run well; for all this I am most grateful to
God, without whose assistance I could do nothing. From
Him, of course, all, I know, proceeds; I trust He will
continue to pour down His mercies, and I will do my
best to fight His cause for Him, and to do my duty to my
fellow-creatures.' 'Laus Domino.'
180
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
1
CHAPTER IX.
INSPECTOR OF FISHERIES: 1867.
BEFORE 1860, the sea and river fisheries of England
and Wales were little cared for. The old Fishery Acts,
which, from Magna Charta downwards, forbade the ob-
struction of rivers by weirs, and the destruction of fish
by means impolitic and unlawful, had become practically
obsolete. At the river's mouth, and on the higher banks,
men strove to take every fish which entered the river, with
little forethought for the preservation of the fishery; while
mills and mines, multiplying with the increase of trade,
stretched weirs across rivers, barring the salmon from the
higher waters, where lie the spawning-beds, or poured
poisonous refuse into the stream and killed the fish.
In 1860, the decline of the English salmon fisheries
had become so notorious, that a Royal Commission was
appointed to enquire into its cause, and devise a remedy.
In Scotland, the rights of great landowners, aided by
local statutes, had preserved salmon fisheries to the value
of 300,000l. a year.
In Ireland, the exhaustion of the fisheries had already
led to Acts being passed in 1842, 1848, and 1850, under
which these fisheries were reviving.
I
INSPECTOR OF FISHERIES
181
The success of this legislation, though partial, enforced
by numerous petitions to Parliament, led to the appoint-
ment of the Commission of 1860
The Commissioners reported in 1861, that the con-
siderable diminution of salmon in the rivers of England
and Wales was fully substantiated. In some rivers the
fact was patent and notorious. Salmon formerly abounded,
but had almost or altogether ceased to exist. The
instances of extinction were but few, diminution, in a
greater or less degree, existed in every river visited. In
some rivers the supply of fish was not more than one in
ten, one in twenty, or even one in one hundred, compared
with what fishermen could recollect. Weirs, fixed nets
and fish-traps, insufficient close time, pollutions, destruc-
tion of unseasonable or of immature fish, the want of
an organised system of protection, and confusion and
uncertainty of the law, were the chief causes of the
decrease of the salmon fishery.
For remedy, the report, supported by copious evidence,
recommended the appointment of permanent Inspectors,
aided by local Boards of Conservators; and also advised
a more uniform annual close time, the establishment of
a weekly close time during the fishing season, allowing
the passage of fish to the breeding-grounds, and the regu-
lation or suppression of fixed nets and other injurious
modes of fishing.
The Salmon Fisheries Act of 1861 followed, which
authorised the appointment of two Inspectors of Fisheries
for England and Wales, and carried out, generally, the
recommendations of the Commissioners.
Mr. William J. Ffennell and Mr. Frederick Eden
182
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
were appointed the first Inspectors. Mr. Ffennell was one
of the Commissioners on whose report the Act of 1861
was passed. He brought to his new office a practical
experience of many years, acquired as Inspector of the
Irish Fisheries. Their common tastes had already made
him a fast friend of Frank Buckland, who many times.
accompanied him on his official inspections, both in Ireland
and in England.
The Act of 1861, notwithstanding some defects, was
received with general favour, and in 1864, the Inspectors
reported, that the manifest increase of fish, within so short
a period, was greater in many waters than the most
sanguine had anticipated.
Associations for the protection of salmon in the upper
waters, which had languished so long as the increased
number of fish fell into the toils of fixed nets, unchecked
at the river's mouth, were now reviving, and the weekly
close time enforced by the Act was more than compensated
by the greater abundance of fish which it produced.
An amendment Act, in 1865, appointed Commissioners
to ascertain what fixed nets and traps should be sanctioned,
and authorised the division of the country into Fishery
Districts, with Boards of Conservators empowered to impose
and administer licence duties.
In 1866 Mr. Eden resigned, and in February 1867 the
appointment of Inspector of Fisheries was conferred on
Frank Buckland. The candidates were numerous, but
none will question the wisdom and justice of the choice, for
which natural genius and enthusiastic devotion to piscicul-
ture alike marked him out.
To himself the appointment was, as his Diary shows,
INSPECTOR OF FISHERIES
183
the realisation of the wish of his life, and a subject of
unaffected delight.
'Wednesday, February 6.-This day I was appointed
Inspector of Fisheries. I had been invited to dine at the
Piscatorial Society in St. James's Hall, and was sitting on
the left hand of the chairman (Mr. Sachs), when John
brought me in a letter as follows:-"Home Office, February
6, 1867. Sir,—Mr. Walpole has desired me to inform you that
he has much pleasure in appointing you Inspector of Salmon
Fisheries in accordance with your wishes. I am &c., S.
WALPOLE."-When I read this I felt a most peculiar
feeling, not joy, nor grief, but a pleasurable stunning
sensation, if there can be such a thing. The first thing
I did was to utter a prayer of thanksgiving to Him who
really appointed me, and who has thus placed me in a
position to look after, and care for, His wonderful works.
May He give me strength to do my duty in my new
calling! I said not a word to anybody, but in a few
minutes I had to make a speech, to propose the health of
the prize-givers. I alluded first to the cultivation of the
waters, and then to my excellent father's endeavours to do
good, saying it was my wish to honour his name, and do my
own duty in my generation.
which was received with great
have gained the object of my life.
with great luck; and I am very
got home I found the house in a state of uproar; all the
servants, the monkeys, Danny the little dog, the parrot, and
the cat, with paper favours on; M. and L. were also here with
favours on, and all much delighted at my appointment."
I then read out the letter,
applause. Thus, then, I
Surely fortune favours me
thankful for it. When I
His new duties were entered upon with characteristic
184
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
energy, yet without relaxation of literary and other work,
and care for his museum.
On February 12, he went to the Fishery Office for the
first time. 'Wrote a great lot of letters, used up all the old
man's papers, and knocked out the bottom of his inkstand.
He seemed astonished at the number of the letters.
Made cast of the big 38 lb. fish sent me by Quelch, who
came in to see him cast; began at 9, finished at 1.
'
13th. To the Fishery Office, and stayed till 4.
14th." Land and Water" Dinner; Mr. Coxe in the
chair. All went off well; thankful I was in excellent
humour for it, surrounded by many excellent aud kind
friends; I thank God for it. Englishmen as well as
Persians worship the rising sun. Set up paper, then to
the Office; gave an opinion about Fishery districts; came
back by 4, and wrote some forty letters.'
On February 18, he made his first official inspection
on the river Exe, naturally a fine salmon river, and in the
reign of Queen Elizabeth 'fluvius piscosissimus,' but for many
years almost barren. In seven days he examined the
river throughout, noting each of the eight weirs which had
ruined the fishery, watching and enquiring into the habits
of the salmon, the points where they assembled below the
weirs, and their struggles to gain the higher waters; and
contriving the best mode of enabling the fish to surmount
these barriers. This was but the beginning of labour; to
get his suggestions adopted throughout the river took years.
In 1869, he endeavoured, by a field lecture to the
Naturalists' Club of Exeter, to urge on the cultivation of
the Exe, passing from weir to weir, and discoursing on the
difficulties of the salmon. A grant in aid of the salmon
INSPECTOR OF FISHERIES
185
ladders, from the Town Council of Exeter, followed. Several
years later, the fish-passes were still only in course of
construction; but in 1875, the fishery had considerably
improved, and about three thousand salmon were taken.
On March 12, 1867, Mr. Ffennell died, and Mr. Spencer
Walpole was appointed Inspector of Fisheries in his place.
In July 1867, the new Inspectors made their first annual
reports.
Frank Buckland's annual reports to the Home Office,
commencing this year, and continued to the end of his life,
contain a vast amount of varied scientific and practical
information, relating to the river and sea fisheries of
Great Britain.
They form not only a record of indefatigable work, but
a storehouse of facts, and experience, and practical sugges-
tions, stowed away in the uninviting and little accessible
form of blue books.
Some extracts from them may illustrate his work as
Inspector of Fisheries.
The salmon was his chief care, whose strange migratory
habits distinguish it from other fish, and require special
provision. Most fish live either in fresh or in salt water,
the salmon inhabits both. Bred in the higher waters of our
rivers, the young salmon of one, two, or three years' growth,
make their way down to the sea as smolts, and return
thence, impelled by the instinct of reproduction, to seek
the gravelly spawning beds in the mountain streams. In
early spring, and through the summer and autumn months,
they come from the sea, bright coated and silvery, and
swim and leap and struggle up the rivers; then is the
fisherman's harvest.
In winter the spawning time comes
186
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
on, when the laws of nature and of man alike forbid their
capture, for the fish, at other times so rich a luxury, are
now vapid and unwholesome. Lean and flabby after the
breeding time, the males with hooked beaks and scarred in
fighting, the spawned fish or kelts rush down again to the
sea; whence after awhile they return, fresh and silvery,
fattened to twice their former weight, and re-enter the
rivers as fresh run fish, the joy alike of the fisherman and
the epicure. Whither they go in the sea, how long they
stay, what they fatten on, are questions still unsolved,
since trawlers and sea fishermen do not meet with them,
and, from the time they escape from the river till they
re-enter the estuary, their dwelling place and habits are
unknown.
It is believed that the instinct of the salmon leads
it back to the place where it was bred; and I hope it is
true,' Frank Buckland used to say, for many thousands
have been hatched out in my kitchen.'
6
These singular habits of the salmon make the produc-
tiveness of each fishery dependent upon free passage being
preserved for the fish from the sea to the higher streams,
and upon such due regulation of the fishing as may allow
a fair proportion of the fish to reach the breeding grounds,
and prevent their total extermination on the way thither.
To these ends the provisions of the Fishery Acts and the
care of the Inspectors were directed.
In his first report Frank Buckland summed up the
results of the previous six years' working of the Act. In
twenty-four rivers a great and marked improvement had
already taken place. In eleven rivers there was a gradual
improvement; in seven, little or no improvement; and in
INSPECTOR OF FISHERIES
187
five others sufficient time had not yet elapsed, since the
Act had been put in force, to give definite results.
'So far then,' he continues, 'the upward course in the
development of the English salmon fisheries is most satis-
factory, and cannot fail to be a source of congratulation to
all interested in the subject. In order to gain further im-
provement, I now propose to consider the causes of failure,
causes which apply equally to all rivers, and upon which
all future salmon cultivation and legislation must depend.
The problem before us is to cultivate the largest quantity
of salmon in a given area. Nature has ordained laws
which regulate the habits of this most nutritious and
valuable of migratory fish. In order that salmon should
multiply its species, three things are absolutely neces-
sary. First, suitable breeding grounds; secondly, suit-
able feeding grounds; and thirdly, a free and uninterrupted
passage from the sources of the rivers to the sea.
all these conditions combined, without let or hindrance,
and the enemies of the salmon at the same time kept in
check, there might hardly be any limit to the number of
fish available for human food.
Were
'In the first place, salmon must have pure water. They
cannot exist in poisoned streams, any more than human
beings can exist in an atmosphere of carbonic acid gas.
The attention of the salmon cultivator should be, therefore,
before all things, directed to the state of the water in
which his fish have to live and be reproduced. There are
five rivers in the happy condition of having no pollution,
viz. the Otter, the Ribble, the Lune, the Glaslyn and the
Conway. On the contrary, other rivers are affected by
pollutions, as follows:-By gas, five; by paper, six; by
188.
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
lead, six; by mines, five; by coal-dust, three; by sewage,
three; by tan, three; by oil and alkali, two; by wool,
two; by dye, two; by carpets, chemicals, &c., three.
'Water is as indispensable to the human being as it is
to the fish. Impure and polluted water will encourage
disease, especially cholera; pure water will disarm disease
of its power, and at the same time be available for grow-
ing excellent human food, in the form of salmon and
other fish. Thus, then, it will be seen that the question
of pollution of rivers affects not only the salmon, but
every individual among us; and the question assumes a
far greater public importance, than if it were applied to
salmon alone.
'After pollutions, the most important question is that
of allowing the adult fish to reach the spawning beds,
wherein to make its nest, at the sources of the rivers; and
to secure a free and uninterrupted return to the sea
for the infant salmon, as well as for its parents. This
naturally leads to the question of obstructions, both natural
and artificial. I grieve to say, that our rivers report ob-
structions formidable in number and formidable in con-
struction. Thus, Severn and her tributaries report seventy-
three weirs; Derwent reports eight; Taw and Torridge
seventy (forty miles of beautiful spawning ground blocked
out!); Dee reports five on the main river, and many on
the tributaries; Wharfe, fifteen; Ouse, two; Ure, four;
Nidd, eight; Swale, six; in fact, most rivers report ob-
structions more or less, and but few report no obstructions.
'The interest of the millers, the navigation proprietors,
and others for whose benefit these obstructions (as we
friends of the salmon choose to call them) have been
INSPECTOR OF FISHERIES
189
built, certainly should be considered, as well as the interest
of the fisheries. A river serves two purposes; it may,
firstly, be made to work milling power; and secondly, it
may be made to produce fish. In many instances, at the
present moment, these two objects are incompatible. I do
not see that they are really so; and feel convinced, that if
conservators use their ingenuity, and co-operate with the
owners of weirs, mills, &c., both objects may be gained,
particularly if a friendly spirit be brought to bear upon
the question.'
To give passage to the salmon without injury to the
miller or his weir, many salmon-ladders had been erected.
A sloping trough with frequent bars across gave the prin-
ciple of a water-ladder, moderating the flow of water, and
forming a series of pools from one to another of which
the salmon could swim or leap, and so pass over the
weir. But many fish-ladders had proved useless, since
varying weirs required different forms of fish-pass.
Frank Buckland, in his first report, gave general rules
for their construction; pointing out especially that they
must be adapted to the habits of the salmon, and should
therefore start from that part of the pool beneath the weir
where the salmon are found to congregate. They should
have a slope six or eight feet in length for every perpendi-
cular foot of fall, and be protected at the top by a V-
shaped board from any undue rush of water which might
throw down the fish into the pool below.
'The third item necessary for the well-being of a river,'
he continued, is the protection of the parent salmon
when engaged in the duties of spawning, and that they
should be allowed a free and unobstructed ascent from, and
190
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
descent to the sea, at all seasons of the year. When at
the nest, if the parent salmon be destroyed by a poacher,
one fell blow will annihilate many thousand fish in the
form of eggs.'
The report also pointed out the wastefulness of the
capture of spawned fish or kelts when unfit for food; as an
example of which he placed in his museum the cast of a
kelt found dead in a pool, that measured 39 inches, and
weighed 10 lbs. 2 oz.; with another cast of a fresh run
fish of exactly the same length, which was found to weigh
20 lbs., or almost double the weight of the kelt.
In June 1866 he had taken part in a congress, held in
London, under the presidency of Lord Percy, of conser-
vators and others interested in salmon-fishery questions, at
which a considerable number of working models and plans
of salmon-ladders were submitted, the details of which are
discussed in the same report, with this practical conclusion:
'I would remind conservators that, in all cases where it is
possible, they should use their ingenuity in trying inex-
pensive experiments, utilising as far as possible the avail-
able and cheap material of the country, in order to get
principles upon which the permanent structure may after-
wards be erected; and I shall only be too pleased to
assist this idea in any way in my power, either mentally
or bodily, for it is a painful thing to find that after an
expensive ladder has been built it will not act. We must
not, however, forget that the ultimate verdict of whether a
salmon-ladder be good or bad must be left to the decision of
the salmon themselves; all we can do is to find out what they
want, and accommodate them to the utmost of our powers.'
Before the next annual report, he had personally
INSPECTOR OF FISHERIES
191
6
examined twenty-six salmon rivers, with the like care
he had bestowed on the Exe. Of one of these rivers,
he says: The Canterbury Stour is now under cultiva-
tion. In the commencement of 1866, I gave a public
lecture in the city of Canterbury, on the cultivation
of salmon rivers: at this lecture most of the influential
gentlemen of the neighbourhood were present, and I
think I can fairly say, without boasting, that this lecture
was the commencement of the formation of the Stour
into a fishery district.'
This river was strongly fortified against the incursions
of salmon. An outwork of stake-nets stretched into the
estuary. Higher up, at Fordwich, a grating was thrown
right across the river with a trap net in the middle.
Above, two mill weirs formed impassable ramparts; other
mills and weirs barred the higher waters.
The stake-nets were put under supervision, the grating
was abolished, a fish-pass was erected at the first weir, at a
cost of over 501., on what was then known as the Govern-
ment principle; but it proved defective in action; the fish
met in conclave at the bottom and gave their verdict against.
it. The defective mechanism of the ladder was under an
archway, and could not be seen without descending into
the ladder, and crawling down the arch. This, to Frank
Buckland, was a labour of love; his sympathy with the
salmon soon discovered and cured the defect, and then, at
a cost of but 157., he placed a cheap and simple ladder
over the upper weir, which the fish fearlessly swam up, as
if they knew it was planned by their best friend.
The artificial hatching of salmon and trout was also
introduced in the Stour; but while the trout increased
192 .
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
considerably, the number of salmon has been checked by
the pollution of the river from the sewage of Canterbury.
A similar cause prevented the success of his endeavours
to re-introduce salmon into the Thames, where they were
once plentiful. Many thousand young salmon were reared
at Hampton, and turned into the Thames; but owing pro-
bably to the impurity of the water, and its disturbance by
steamers and ships, only one or two salmon have been
taken in the Thames in recent times.
'The difficulty of dealing with weirs,' he wrote in
1868, 'seems to resolve itself into a question of bread v.
salmon. Many of the mills are corn mills; the public
require bread; the miller's business therefore becomes
important, and in one sense even more important than
salmon. For my own part, I conceive that (failing com-
pulsory legislation) if a system of "give and take" be
established, the public will have their usual amount of
bread from the mills, and an increased supply of salmon
from the rivers; the property of the miller will not be
interfered with, and the property of the fishery proprietor
will be more fully developed. This is to be done by
arranging that the salmon shall have the use of the water
when the mill is not at work, i.e., let the miller utilise the
water during the day, but allow the salmon to utilise it
during the night. The miller will then have the use of the
water, for his own interests, during six days, and the fish
during six nights; the mill does not work on Sundays; on
that day, therefore, the water should be given up for the use
of the fish. I do not wish that the weirs should be de-
stroyed; I wish only that a free passage over them, by means
of an effective ladder or pass, should be made compulsory.'
INSPECTOR OF FISHERIES
193
The Act had dealt with fixed engines, and with the
close time, but gave no compulsory powers to alter weirs
or place fish-passes over them. These the inspectors could
advise and recommend, but had no power to enforce. But
Frank Buckland's enthusiasm was singularly infectious, and
there is an innate love of sport in most Britons; so he
visited the landowners, chatted with the millers, and
smoked with the fishermen, for high and low were alike
his friends if they loved nature, and especially salmon, till
he bound them together with the common purpose to
preserve and multiply the objects of his care: and thus
fish-passes were by degrees laid over weirs, and sluices
were opened, when the miller found his purse would not
suffer, and salmon leaped and splashed again in pools
which had long been silent, and the food of the people
was multiplied.
One example may be given of his happy way of con-
ciliating opposition by a union of good sense and good
humour, making his subject simple to every understanding,
however rustic, and while raising many a hearty laugh,
impressing all with a sense of his own earnestness.
He seemed to have power to charm the reluctant; many
who came to listen, suspicious, dogged and perverse, soon
yielded to his genial tact and wit, and became themselves
inflamed with piscicultural ardour.
The inspectors held a meeting at Maryport in August
1867, to endeavour to enfranchise the river Ellen, then
encumbered with mill weirs, and to induce the millers,
though jealous of their rights, to co-operate in freeing the
river from obstruction.
'You have,' he said, 'a beautiful property in the
194
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
river Ellen; because nature favours it.
Fight against
she will assist
nature, you will be beaten; go with her,
you. The salmon is a very clever fellow. A gentleman
at the British Association produced in a glass some brains,
which he said were the least developed of any that could
be found! They were salmon's brains. I said, "I will not
hear my friend assailed, and I will back the salmon against
you." To cultivate a river, you must study intimately
the habits of the fish. A river is like a railway. Lay a
line from London to Carlisle without break, the train will
go straight through, but if a rail is placed across the line,
over goes the train. So with a river. If the river is
clear, a fish will rush right up; but if a weir is placed
across, it stops him. The river Ellen has admirable
spawning grounds, and a natural supply of fish, but they
have been exterminated. The principal enemies are those
abominable weirs, and particularly one curled over like a
lady's chignon, and a horrid-looking one it is. Imagine
yourselves to be fish, in close season.
How would you
make your way up the river? You would not jump the
weirs, you could not get over them. The fish want to get
over them into the upper stream-not for the benefit of
men, but on their own business; but men have told the
fish that, although so valuable, they shall not come. The
millers have built the weirs to turn the mills, and stopped
the fish; but with a little ingenuity the miller may drive
his mill, and the fish pass every weir as well; so that
both fish and miller may make proper use of the river.'
Describing each weir and the remedies to be applied,
he continued:
"The principle is very simple after all. We often
INSPECTOR OF FISHERIES
195
1
go gaping about while the truth is staring us in the face.
How have we all come into this room? If we had been
outside and smelt the smell of dinner, we might have
tried jumping in at the window, but we found that the
landlord had made us a staircase, and when we got to the
top of the staircase we opened the door. So the fish
assemble in the pool, they jump and jump, and cannot get
over. Now what have the improvers of the river to do?
They have to open the door-that is the sluice—and the
fish will go through.
'I see present our friend the miller. Now I have a
sort of dread of millers. When inspectors go to examine
weirs, and see a white cap coming across the field, they say,
(6
Oh, here comes the ogre of the weir, who destroys all the
salmon." I confess it is a satisfaction to me to see the
miller get pelted with flour in the pantomimes. I must
say, however, that Cumberland millers are the best fellows
I ever met. The first miller we met to-day has opened a
fish-pass, and promises in winter time to open the sluice
every night. That will beat any ladder we can make.
C
At Dereham my excellent colleague, Mr. Walpole,
has shown us what to do. It is to make a pool, and
pool-making is a very simple business. Supposing that
our weir is six feet high; if a fish cannot jump six
feet, it can jump three. In order to jump, the fish must
have a deep pool from whence to spring; he takes a
long run in the pool, and comes up from the deep water
like an arrow. The way to give deep water is to build a
wall about three feet high; the water will fill it up into
a pool, and instead of having six feet, the salmon will
have only three feet to jump.
0 2
196
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
'Next we come to Birkley weir, which is a puzzler. If
I were a fish and got up to Birkley, I should say, "Good-
morning, gentlemen; you treat me so badly that I shall go
back again." Then we come to Ellen Grove. It is quite
a treat to see the ladder there; it is very good, not quite
perfect; but if I were a fish I should go up, because they
have made the staircase very easy. There is a pool at the
bottom of the weir, and the fish can stay there all day,
and perhaps say, "Here are the inspectors coming, and I
hope they are going to keep down the poachers." There
is another enemy to be found at Birkley weir. Not a
miller but a tanner, and that is next door to a miller.
I said to the tanner, "You have been brewing some
porter this morning;" but the tanner replied, "It is only
lime water." I asked the tanner if he could not put his
lime somewhere else, and would it not be better to put it
on the land and let his cabbage eat it? Now, there is a
certain public spirit in every English breast, which will
always make him draw back a little when the public wishes
it; so I said to the tanner, "Please oblige those gentlemen
of Maryport, and don't throw that lime into the river;
and the tanner replied, "No, I won't! I will throw it on
my midden."
'Now Mr. Senhouse holds a most important position on
the river; he has the key of the front door; the upper
proprietors have the bedrooms and dressing-rooms and
attics. If you do not unlock the front door, it is of no
earthly use opening the other doors. The fish must be
got over the weir at the entrance of the river: it must be
done.
.
When Lord Palmerston passed an Act of Parliament
INSPECTOR OF FISHERIES
197
compelling manufacturers to consume their smoke, gentle-
men came and said, "It can't be done." Lord Palmerston
replied, "I don't know whether it can or cannot be done,
but it must and shall be done." Mr. Senhouse will see
at once the importance of opening the weir and allowing
the fish to get up the river. If a salmon comes there and
sees no obstruction, he will go up the river as straight
as he can go for the spawning-grounds.'
How wide the field was for improvement in the salmon
fisheries appeared from calculations quoted in the report
for 1868. On seventeen salmon rivers, salmon were ex-
cluded by weirs or pollutions, or both, from an area of
11,600 square miles, leaving accessible to the salmon in
those rivers an area of only 6,600 square miles.
Despite weirs and pollutions, and the vis inertice of
habit and prejudice, salmon multiplied to a marked extent.
The annual sales of Scotch salmon in Billingsgate
Market, as quoted in the report for 1868, averaged 1,100
tons; fluctuating in different years from 750 to 2,100
tons. The sales of Irish salmon in Billingsgate, in the
eight years preceding the Irish Fishery Act of 1842,
averaged 83 tons a year; in the twenty-six following
years to 1867, 270 tons a year; and in the following nine
years, 350 tons a year. The yearly sales of English and
Welsh salmon at the same market, in the ten years pre-
ceding the Act of 1861, averaged about eight tons only.
In 1867, the yearly sale had increased to an average of 50
tons, and in the following nine years to an average of
88 tons. The total annual sales of English and Welsh
salmon throughout the country was estimated in later
reports to have increased to 100,000l. in value.
198
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
To accomplish these results required ceaseless per-
sonal exertion. To stir up the inert, to combat stolid
prejudice, to harmonise conflicting rights, to infect others
with a spark of his own enthusiasm ; this was Frank
Buckland's daily task.
(
His museum also occupied much time and labour.
Being exceedingly anxious,' he wrote in his second
report, that the public should have a good idea of the
nature and importance of the British Salmon Fisheries, I
am happy to be able to report, that I have now got to-
gether a Museum of Economic Fish Culture; and my col-
lection is open free to the public at South Kensington.
The natural history of the salmon, as well as of other
products of the waters, of economic value, especially the
oyster, is illustrated by plaster casts and preparations, all
of which I have made myself, and mostly at my own
expense. There will be found in my museum models of
salmon passes, and modes of salmon capture, nets, &c.
The process of hatching the ova of salmon, trout, &c. is
also carried on at the Gardens on a considerable scale.
This is now the third year that I have been enabled to
distribute, on the part of the Acclimatisation Society, a
considerable number of ova to various rivers in England.
Although the judicious cultivation and opening up of
natural spawning-grounds will, in my opinion, be always
preferable to hatching the Salmonide by artificial means,
yet, inasmuch as the transport of large numbers of salmon
and trout in the embryo state, to places where they did
not exist before, and also improvement in the breed of fish,
may be readily effected by the artificial process, I trust
INSPECTOR OF FISHERIES
199
that my efforts have done good, and will continue to do so
for the future.'
Casting fish for the Museum was no easy matter.
This is How we cast the large Sturgeon' in April
1867:
'On Tuesday evening, about 5 P.M., Messrs. Grove of
Bond Street sent word that they had a very fine sturgeon
on their slab. Of course I went down at once to see it.
The fish weighed, I was informed, 212 lbs.; it measured
9 feet in length. I was anxious to make a cast of this
fine fellow, but I confess the size and weight rather
frightened me; however, they offered me the fish for
the night; he must be back in the shop the next morning
by 10 A.M. Determined not to lose the chance, I called
a cab, and we tried to get the sturgeon on the top of it,
but he was 66
too much" for us, and we were obliged to
give up all idea of this mode of conveyance of our huge
friend from Bond Street to Albany Street. Messrs. Grove
then kindly sent him up in a cart, and we got him out of
the cart easily enough on his arrival at my door, but it
was with the greatest difficulty we hauled him up the
doorsteps. We then thought of pitching him headlong
over the railings into the area below, and thus getting him
into the little front kitchen, which, though terribly small,
I use as a casting-room; but his back was so slippery and
his scales so sharp to the hands, that Master Sturgeon
beat us again. However, I was determined to get him
down into the kitchen somehow; so, tying a rope to his
tail, I let him slide down the stone stairs by his own
weight. He started all right, but, "getting way" on him,
200
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
I could hold the rope no more, and away he went sliding
headlong down the stairs, like an avalanche from Mont
Blanc. At the bottom of the stairs is the kitchen door;
the sturgeon came against it " nose on " like an iron bat-
tering ram; he smashed the door open in a moment with
his snout and slid right into the kitchen, gliding easily
along the oil-cloth till at last he brought himself to
an anchor under the kitchen table. This sudden and
unexpected appearance of the armour-clad sea-monster,
bursting open the door--shut purposely to keep out the
sight of "the master's horrid great fish "—instantly created
a sensation scene, and great and dire was the commotion.
The cook screamed, the housemaid nearly fainted; the cat
jumped on the dresser, upsetting the best crockery; the
little dog Danny, with tail between his legs, made a pre-
cipitate retreat under the copper and barked furiously; the
monkeys went mad with fright, and screamed "Murder
in monkey language; the sedate parrot's nerves were ter-
ribly shaken, and it has never spoken a word since; and
all this bother, because a poor harmless dead sturgeon
burst open the kitchen door, and took up his position.
under the kitchen table. Worse than all, I was obliged
to go out to dinner that night: but, nevertheless, before
leaving the house, I managed, with ropes and improvised
mechanical contrivances, to get the sturgeon on the table
of the casting-room, and piped all hands to work. My
secretary took charge of the moulding, and worked well
at it. Before 2 in the next morning the mould was made,
and before 10 the sturgeon was back again on Grove's
slab. Now comes the difficulty. How am I ever to get
the cast out of the little room? It will be too wide to
INSPECTOR OF FISHERIES
201
pass out of the door, and too long to twist round so as to
slew it out, and solid plaster will not twist like the pliant
body of the fish itself. I can't get it out of the window
on account of the iron bars let into the stone-work.
Robinson Crusoe built a boat of wood, and made it so
heavy he could never launch it. I am much in the same
predicament with the cast of my sturgeon, but I never
was beat yet by a fish, even though he be a cumbersome
monster like the present occupant of my casting-room.'
The large sturgeon was, however, eclipsed a few days
later by the arrival of a whale.
'I am happy to say,' he wrote on May 4, 1867, 'my
whale has at last arrived. Early on Saturday morning last, I
received a note from Mr. Bartlett of the Zoological Gardens,
saying the whale was awaiting my immediate inspection,
having just arrived from Edinburgh. Having previously
obtained leave from Dr. Murie, the prosector of the Society,
to make use of his dissecting-room, we shot the whale bodily
out of the van, and placed him on the asphalte floor. It was
a fine whale, but not so large as I should have wished. The
largest of those captured in the Firth of Forth, at the
beginning of the week, was 25 feet in length, whereas my
specimen measured 11 ft. 6 in. in length, and 7 ft. 6 in. in
girth. There can be no doubt, I think, that my specimen.
is Globicephalus deductor, or the ca'ing whale. His head
resembles somewhat a huge round glass carboy as used by
wholesale chemists, or the forehead of a person afflicted
with hydrocephalus. I cannot say his colours are well
marked, as his whole body is simply like a mass of india-
rubber, shaded off to a narrow line of olive green on the
belly; the body is likewise elastic and silk-like to the
202
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
touch like india-rubber. His eyes are very small, in fact
almost invisible. His fins are tapered, and in shape not
unlike a pair of ladies' gloves folded before they have been
put on. His back fin is curved somewhat like a Turkish
scimitar, and its lower edge ends in a sharp ridge, which
runs the whole length of the body from the back fin to
the tail. The teeth, twenty-eight in number, are conical,
and slightly set in their sockets. The tongue was project-
ing somewhat from the mouth; it is dark blue above and
red below. It is said to be good eating. The Shetlanders
call this whale the ca'ing whale; ca'ing is the Orkney for
driving" (i.e. on shore). It is called deductor from its
peculiar habit of following a leader, the main flock follow-
ing a leader like wild ducks in the air. The Shetlanders
from this cause call it the "leading whale;" at Faroe it
is called the "guard whale." They are harmless, in-
offensive creatures, and I should imagine excessively stupid,
as they are continually running ashore, allowing them-
selves to be murdered wholesale. Their food, I believe, is
fish. They are very fat and make very good oil; the
blubber upon this creature was cut off in masses, like great
folio books 4 inches thick, and sent away to be boiled into
oil. The flesh was of a very dark red colour, much re-
sembling that of a horse. Having obtained a vanload of
plaster, I determined to devote the usual half-holiday of
Saturday to casting the whale. It was perfectly impossible
to cast it in one piece, as it weighed a ton. We therefore
made the mould in six pieces, and it was wonderful what
an enormous quantity of plaster it took to do this. I had,
however, very able assistance from my friends. Some camer
simply to look on, but I told them either to go away or to
INSPECTOR OF FISHERIES
203
strip and work; one by one they took off their coats, got
their hands whitened with plaster, and set to work like men.
After a while we got the whale entirely covered up with
plaster, white and glittering like a huge twelfth cake covered
with sugar; but then came the difficulty of getting the
moulds off again. The very first piece showed me something
was wrong. Alas! the plaster was all cracking like unsafe
ice. We therefore had to begin all over again, and put
another coat right over it, so that when the mould was
ultimately taken off, it was of the thickness of armour-
plating of an ironclad. This done, we got the head and
sides off right enough, but when attempting to turn over
the largest portion of the mould, about 9 feet long, one
side, without the least warning, gave way in the most
aggravating manner, and crumbled like a piece of pie-crust.
This was the result of the tradesman, from whom I had
the plaster, being cruel enough to supply me with
a very inferior kind, which, he must have been well
aware, was good for nothing. Luckily the side broke in
pretty large pieces; so we managed, with difficulty and
much contriving, to put them together again. All this took
a long time, but I was determined to finish the whale that
night, as I did not know when I should have time to touch
it again. Having rested a few minutes, we all set to work
to cast it from the mould; and, to make a long story short,
I finished it completely before Sunday morning, getting my
Saturday's dinner at five minutes to 12 at night, and
most thoroughly I enjoyed it after so many hours' heavy
work. On Monday afternoon I got a van which just held
the pieces of the whale, and, with great labour, we managed
safely to deposit the ponderous masses on the vacant space
204.
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
of ground near to my museum at the Horticultural Gardens.
I hope, at the first leisure time, to be able to put the pieces
together and to complete this specimen, which I know is
the only cast of a whale in London.'
Both casts of sturgeon and whale were at last com-
pleted, and are now in the museum.
Another incident of the same year is thus related :
'This summer I enjoyed the privilege of seeing Captain
Salvin's cormorants work in the river Test. The miller
put down his hatches for the cormorants to work in the
pool. The birds had not been in this pool a moment
before we saw them hunting a large fish round and round
under water; the fish was so large they could not swallow
it, and there was a regular set-to under water (like a
steam-engine gone mad at the bottom of the river),
between the "Detective" and "Hoang Ho" (the cor-
morants) and the fish. I could stand it no longer, so I
jumped into the water, and went to the assistance of the
birds. The birds and myself had two or three good.
courses, and at last the poor hunted fish took refuge under
some boards, which formed the apron below the hatches.
"Hoang Ho" kept pecking at him with his beak, but
could not reach him. I then went in still deeper into
the water, and, putting in practice my usual method of
catching fish with my hands, I soon had master fish out;
to my surprise it was a grayling, weighing nearly 3 lbs.
When I first got hold of him, he fought uncommonly hard,
and his scales were very slippery; he was a strong fish
and no mistake. At last I landed him on the bank,
whilst our friend Salvin greeted us with loud shouts,
and vehement cracks of his cormorant whip. The only
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205
person not pleased was the miller, who said “he never
see'd three such poachers in his life in the water together,
as them long-necked birds with straps round their necks,
and the gent as ought to have a strap round his'n."
Hedgehogs, whose habits he had described in 'Curio-
sities of Natural History,'' again gave rise to a lively
correspondence:-
'My friend, Mr. Gilbanks, said at a public dinner
the other day at Maryport, that "he and I had had many
a passage at arms, but that we were none the worse
friends for that." I now, therefore, again call on the
squire to draw his sword. Protocols have failed, and it is
a casus belli in re hedgehogs. I have tried hedgehogs to
kill beetles; they don't act. A hedgehog cannot possibly
hold above a pint of beetles at a time, and in my kitchen
there are gallons of them.
'I once tried the hedgehog plan at the Deanery,
Westminster. The first night after his arrival, the Abbey
watchman was frightened out of his wits--it was the
hedgehog. The next night, fast asleep, I felt a cold nose
on my face, and then a prickly thing trying to get into
bed-it was the hedgehog. The next night, the servants
came trembling to say there was a burglar in the dining-
room rattling the plate-it was the hedgehog.
The next
night, the cook put some soup away, and in the morning
the soup was gone the hedgehog was found coiled up
asleep in the tureen. The next night, nothing was heard
of the hedgehog, and for weeks we could not tell where he
was gone. The cook was thankful, and the crickets sang
"O! be joyful," while the blackbeetles had free run of the
66
1st Series, p. 118.
206
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
kitchen.
"Years rolled on," as the novelists say, and a
skeleton was discovered in the flue, which had smoked
the whole house out for weeks. The hedgehog again!
Thank goodness I have seen the last of that wretch, and
never wish to have another of his kind on the premises.
Unless, therefore, my friends wish to run the chance
of a hedgehog becoming the same pest to them as he was
to me, they will never introduce him into their houses.
Hedgehogs will only eat a certain number of beetles, and
the beetles having good spawning-ground behind the
kitchen range, breed much faster than the hedgehog can
eat. Again, good squire, who told you that tortoises ate
beetles? Surely nobody but the London costermonger who
wished to sell you one. We might as well shut up the
squire himself in his own kitchen to eat blackbeetles, as
shut up a tortoise to perform that task. If my state-
ment is doubted, shut up a tortoise with a dozen black-
beetles: I warrant the dozen beetles will remain there till
the tortoise dies of starvation, and it is then exceedingly
likely that the beetles will eat up the tortoise.
C
Finally, the squire says hedgehogs are good to eat;
he is quite right there. If he will kindly give me a
fortnight's notice of his next visit to London, I will put
up a nice young hedgehog to fat, and we will discuss
the whole matter over a roasted urchin.'
Hedgehogs gave rise to another debate: whether or
not they were susceptible of poison.
"When studying chemistry at Giessen with Professor
Liebig,' Frank Buckland wrote, 'we tried this experiment,
and it was fatal to the poor hedgehog. I have also tried
hedgehogs and vipers. The viper struck the hedgehog
INSPECTOR OF FISHERIES
207
two or three times in the face, where there were no
bristles; the blows were well aimed, and meant to do
business, as at the moment the hedgehog was munching
up the viper's tail. The hedgehog did not suffer in the
least; on the contrary, he ate up the viper in a few minutes,
leaving not a trace behind.'
In the autumn, rapid journeys of inspection followed
one another, of which the following is a fortnight's
record :-
'
August 19.-By the 10 train to Alnwick, to Duke of
Northumberland. Wrote all the way from London to
Newcastle.
'20th.-Up early, and with Lord Percy, to look at the
Abbey Mill Weir. Attended meeting of the conservators;
after that dragged the river, and then on to Alnmouth.
'21st.—To see the artificial hatching place; with post
horses in Duke's carriage, to Wentsworth mill, and then to
Acklington Weir; then to Felton, and then back to Aln-
wick. By train that night to Newcastle.
' 22nd.--Walked about Newcastle, looked at Fish-mar-
ket and museum. Then on to Hexham, meeting of conser-
vators. Then to Carlisle.
‹ 23rd.—Drove all down the Aln. Meeting at Maryport.
24th. Returned to London.'
'26th.—To Chepstow; saw general conformation of the
Wye.
27th. Caermarthen, then on to Conyd.
'28th.-Up early and went to falls of Penarth. Then
to Newcastle Emlyn, and then to Cardigan; met Inspec-
tor of Police at Newcastle, and ordered a new pass for the
fish.
208
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
port.
29th. At Cardigan. Drove on that night to New-
'30th.—By 5 o'clock morning bus, through Fishguard
to Haverfordwest. Took fly there; looked at two weirs on
the Cleddy; and also paper-mills; then on to Langwm,
and thence to New Milford.
'31st.
To Pembroke, then train back to Chepstow :
very pleasant week.'
On his return, he described with sympathy the struggles
of the fish to surmount the weirs.
"The migratory Salmonida are now on their road from
the sea up the rivers towards the spawning grounds; and
should any of my readers happen to be in the neighbour-
hood of weirs or other obstructions on salmon rivers, they
should certainly not lose the opportunity of observing for
themselves the game qualities which these poor fish show,
in their attempts to get over the natural or artificial bar-
riers placed in their highway. I heard the other day of a
languid tourist, who, when gazing through his eye-glass
at some tired-out fish-pilgrims continually hurled back
at a weir, insulted my scale-bearing friends by calling
them "speckled enthusiasts." I should much like to
have placed the tourist aforesaid in the foaming water
beneath the weir, and then, while watching his efforts to
get again on terra firma, it strikes me the fish would in
their turn have called him, with justice (for he had a plaid
coat on), a "speckled enthusiast." Idle people should
not insult salmon; at least, I shall always call them to
account if they do.
my
'I have lately witnessed two scenes, which really made
heart ache. When surveying the Coquet, we came to
INSPECTOR OF FISHERIES
209
}
a terrible obstruction, called the Acklington Dam. This
is a wall built in a curved shape right across the river,
and stops the ascending fish, as completely as a barrier
placed across the street stops cabs and omnibuses, when
the Londoners are out "reforming."
'The dam was nearly dry, except one place in the middle,
over which a sheet of water, about as wide as an ordinary
house window and about 6 inches in depth, was continually
pouring.
'The pool at the foot of this weir was perfectly alive
with fish. At my first gaze I was astounded, and I
felt the blood tingle in my ears, as I caught sight of the
swarm of fish, bull-trout, that were attempting to as-
cend. In the space of one minute I saw no less than
twenty-seven fish make jumps, and in the next minute
and a half, I counted thirty fish; some of them were little
fellows not five inches long; others, large and full-grown
fish, the aristocrats of the river.
The dam was 11 feet high, and many fish actually
jumped nine feet straight into the air. I am certain of
this, because I walked, with considerable difficulty, upon
the top of the slippery stones of the dam, and with a
measuring-tape measured the height, and also the points
up to which, I had seen the fish jump.
There is a very deep pool at the point where the
waterfall joins the lower level of the river. The fish came
out of this pool into the air with the velocity of an arrow;
they gave no warning or notice of their intentions, but up
they came, and darted out of the surface of the water with
a sudden rush, like rockets let loose from the darkness of
the night into the space above. When they first appeared
P
210
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
in the air, their tails were going with the velocity
of a watch-spring just broken, and the whole body,
sparkling as though enamelled, was quivering with the
exertion.
"They looked as much like flying-fish as ever I saw
anything in my life. As they ascended, their tails left off
quivering, for these tails were machines made to act on
water, and not wings to act on air. Their course was
somewhat trajectory in form, but not so much as I should
have expected. Not one single fish, alas! did I see get
over; some of them jumped into the body of the waterfall,
and were hurled violently back, down into the pool, like
the pictures we see of soldiers of old thrown down headlong
from the ramparts of a besieged city.
'Other fish would put on more steam, and were in conse-
quence carried by their own impetus right through the
sheet of water, dashing themselves with the force of a
cricket-ball from a catapult against the solid wall which
formed the weir. These also, poor things, fell back into the
pool half-stunned, and with cut and bruised noses. While
the bigger fish were making these strenuous efforts to
ascend, their smaller companions were jumping distances
more or less high up into the falling water.
'
Many had evidently given it up for a bad job, and were
swimming about with their little black noses projecting
out of the white boiling water, doubtless crying out, "We
can't get up, we can't get up. Cruel miller, to put this
weir. Mr. Buckland, do what you can for us.
"Wait a
bit, my dear fish," I said; "the Duke of Northumberland
is a kind man, and he is going to make a ladder for you;
the plans are nearly settled; and you shall then jump for
""
INSPECTOR OF FISHERIES
211
joy, and not for pain. In the meantime read this." So
I pinned a large piece of paper on the weir, which read
thus:
""NOTICE TO SALMON AND BULL-TROUT.
""No road at present over this weir. Go down stream,
take the first turn to the right, and you will find good
travelling water up stream, and no jumping required.-
F. T. B."'
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
CHAPTER X.
ABOUT FISH, BEASTS, AND BIRDS: 1868-1869.
IN January 1868 Frank Buckland collected, in 'terribly
cold' weather, and packed in ice on board the 'Celestial
Queen,' at St. Katharine's Docks, the first salmon and trout
ova shipped to New Zealand. For ten years he continued
to collect and export salmon and trout eggs to different
colonies of Australasia.
The trout ova sent to Tasmania in 1864 had thriven
and multiplied, adapting their habits to the climate of the
Antipodes, breeding in July, the winter of those climes,
instead of in January. The eggs of these trout were sent
from Tasmania to Victoria and New Zealand, and multiplied
there. The salmon eggs sent out at the same time were
hatched out in Tasmania, and grew to smolts; but it was
still debated whether the fish, which now and then were
seen leaping in Tasmanian waters, were really salmon.
Now trout, salmon trout, and in some rivers salmon,
have been by these means acclimatised in Tasmania, New
Zealand, and Australia. In Tasmania, the first of these
colonies to which ova were exported, most of the streams
on the north, south, and east coasts are already fairly
stocked with trout, and others contain sea-trout; but at
present the Derwent and its tributaries are the only rivers
in Tasmania in which the true salmon is believed to exist.
ABOUT FISH, BEASTS, AND BIRDS
213
On February 6, 1868, a dinner of horse-flesh was given
at the Langham Hotel, as an experiment of the value of
that article of food, which is said to be now rather exten-
sively used in Paris. The guests were many, scientific
and intellectual, but, according to Frank Buckland, the
pleasures of the table were social rather than gastronomic.
'A very pleasant party at our end of the table, but the meat
simply horrible.'
6
February 7.-Very seedy indeed; partly effects of
horse, partly of a very bad cold; felt very queer all day.'
The flavour of the meat, though served in various
ways, he described as resembling the aroma of a horse in a
perspiration.
""
'In the middle of the dinner I stood up to watch the
countenances of the people eating, and I devoutly wished
I had had the talent of a Hogarth to be able to record the
various expressions. Instead of "men's beards wagging,
there seemed to be a dubious and inquisitive cast spread
over the features of most who were present. Many, indeed,
reminded me of the attitude of a person about to take a pill
and draught; not a rush at the food, but a "one, two, three!"
expression about them, coupled not unfrequently by calling
in the aid of the olfactory powers, reminding one of the
short and doubtful sniff, that a domestic puss not over-
hungry takes of a bit of bread and butter. The bolder
experimenters gulped down the meat, and instantly followed
it with a draught of champagne, then came another
mouthful, and then, as we say, fiat haustus ut antea.'
The condition of the animals slaughtered may affect
the flavour of the meat: on another occasion Frank
Buckland and Mr. Bartlett experimented with prime
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
steaks of horse and beef, and were unable to distinguish
between them; yet few would eat horseflesh willingly.
A suggestion was made to the Home Office, by Frank
Buckland, that if prisoners were fed on horseflesh the
prisons would soon be empty. Tenderness for the criminal
class has prevented its adoption.
The following are among the correspondence for the
year 1868:-
6
February 15th.-The whelks will soon begin, if they
have not already begun, to deposit their curious egg-masses.
The study of these is well worthy of attention. The struc-
ture of the transparent membrane is horn-like, and the
marvellous manner in which the numerous capsules are
joined together, and the young ones packed away inside,
is most worthy of notice. It would seem almost to be a
modification of a bee-cell adapted for under-water existence.
There are large quantities of whelks on the grounds of the
Herne Bay Oyster Fishery. Last year the whole coast was
strewed, after a storm, for a long distance with these
whelks' eggs; in some, the young whelks were so far
developed that their shells had become hard, and when the
capsule became dry the young whelks rattled like shots in
a child's rattle. There were from three to six young
whelks in each capsule. Each capsule is shaped like a
lady's handbag, and has a patulous mouth with no appear-
ance of a valve. The young shells have but two whorls
and are exceedingly fragile. Whelks are caught by a
mode of fishing called "Trotting." A number of unfor-
tunate common shore-crabs are strung together with a
needle and string run through their backs, so as to make a
bunch; these are sunk to the bottom of the sea, and left
ABOUT FISH, BEASTS, AND BIRDS
215
for a while; they are then drawn up, and the whelks which
have come to eat the crabs shaken into the boat. A number
of these bunches of crabs are laid down, and the trotter
rows from one to the other. A great many of these whelks
are sold as bait for the North Sea cod fisheries, and they
will live a long time in sacks. Young oysters are par-
ticularly fond of "sitting down" upon whelk shells. I
have several specimens in my museum to show this; one
in which the poor whelk is absolutely smothered with them,
like flies on a fly-paper. In another specimen, an oyster
has fastened himself on to a whelk, and, I think, "proved
the death of him." The poor whelk probably carried the
great lazy oyster about on his back, till at last he became
so heavy that he could do so no longer; so he gave it up
as a bad job, and died to "spite the oyster." Another
oyster has taken board and lodging just inside the shell of
a whelk. This uninvited guest must have been a terrible
bore to the whelk, for he could neither come in nor go
out of his shell to look for his dinner, without passing the
bailiff in possession of the door. However, the oyster has
not quite had all his own way, for the whelk has made
him squeeze himself up as flat as possible, so as not to
stop the way entirely. Another oyster has taken up his
position on the summit of a whelk, like a flying Mercury
on the top of a column. This was a wise oyster. He
rode about the bottom of the sea at his ease, and saw the
world for nothing.'
April. I have received a steak of a fine bison bull that
was killed by the orders of Lord Wharncliffe, Wortley
Hall, Sheffield. The poor bull suffered for his ferocity,
and has been turned into beefsteaks. The meat is grand
216
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
eating, with a slight game flavour, a little hard, which,
perhaps, was my fault in having it broiled, but many
degrees better than "hippocreas or horse-flesh. I dis-
tributed the meat sent me in small portions to various
friends; they all agree as to its excellent quality. We
should all be much pleased that Lord Wharncliffe is culti-
vating bisons. They will doubtless do well in this country.
One hardly hears of a gravel pit or new brick-field being
opened up on the London Basin, without discoveries being
made of the bones of Bos, something or another, Bos
longifrons, Bos primigenius, &c. England is doubtless a
Bos-carrying country, and any new variety of beef will be
most acceptable to the public, while the animals themselves
would be highly ornamental to parks, and be a change
upon the ubiquitous and old-fashioned fallow deer.'
'August.-On returning home late, I found on the
dining-room table a jeweller's box, with the jeweller's
name prominently on the top, but with the envelope
torn off, and the lid on one side; on removing the cotton
wool, before reading the note, which accompanied the box,
I confess I was a little startled at seeing a scorpion at the
bottom, with his tail well over his back, ready for the
attack. I shook him out carefully, and then discovered that
he was dead. The secret of the box being opened has at
last leaked out. It arrived at tea-time when I was not at
home. Seeing the gold-lettered jewel label on the top,
how could the custom-house officer possibly allow such
a suspicious parcel to remain unopened till 11 at
night? It was therefore unclosed with great ceremony, as
far as I can understand, and when scorpio the poisonous
-not gold bracelet the beautiful-was discovered, there
ABOUT FISH, BEASTS, AND BIRDS
217
was a scene rivalling that when Blue Beard's wife opened
the mystic cupboard. The box, scorpion and all, was
flung into the grate with a shriek (luckily there was no
fire or I should have lost the specimen), and there remained,
till the adventurous butler, "John," who has had a good
training under me, picked it up, and placed it on the table
where I found it. I am glad the scorpion had been killed
before he was packed up, as if he had been alive he might
have stung somebody. As it is, I expect a second scolding
from the post-office authorities. Some time since a friend
killed (as he thought) a viper, and sent him off to me
through the post. The viper during the journey thought
proper to come to life again, and managed to get his head
out of the parcel. On arriving at London, he was killed a
second time, and was really dead when I received him.
The scorpion affair was a little better, for he had been slain
with a nail run through his body, before he was put into
the pillar-post at Chatham. This little beast is now before
me, he much resembles a very large blackbeetle; his length
is one inch and five-eighths, and he weighs twelve grains.
'September 5.-On Friday se'nnight, arriving at Herne
Bay, I heard news of an extraordinary fish that had been
caught. I at once set to work, and found that it belonged
to old Mount, a poor old man who lives at Hampton, near
Herne Bay. A dredgerman told me that the fish was up
at the railway station, and that it was going off to a man
at Margate that night. At last I found Mount, and went
directly off to the station. As we were going along, the
old man told me the following story: "I was out a-sapping
for eels on Swalecliffe rock, when I see'd something
paddling about and a-flapping his tail. I thought it was a
218
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
gull at first, so I up's anchor and goes to see what it was,
and then I found this 'ere great fish ashore. I tried to get
my anchor into his mouth, but he would not open it, so I
catches hold of his tail with the bight of a rope, but as soon
as I went one way he went t'other. So I jobs him through
the head with my boat-hook, and lashes him head and tail
to
my
old boat, to see if I could get him home that way.
As I was a-going along, he gets under my boat, and pretty
nigh capsized me, vessel and all; so I says, 'I must have
you ashore at once, my friend, and have another strike at
ye;' for I was most afeard on him, he was such a tremendous
great thing, and I had nobody to assist me but myself.
Then I got him into shoal water, and when I struck him
on the head, he reared hisself right up, and put his flippers
together as much as to say, 'Pray don't strike me.' It was
over two hours before that beast died, and then he laid
hisself out as straight as an oar. He is not an old-fashioned
pig porpoise, he is a regular bottle-nose one. He got in
my way, not me in his'n, or I should never have catched
him. If the Margate man has not sent the money I'll sell
him to you, sir. You shall have him cheap as he's begin-
ning to stink. I was half a mind to dig him into my tater
ground."
'When I arrived at the station, there was the deceased
monster, sewed up in old sacks, and directed to the man at
Margate. I did not like to unpack him, so I loosed the
cloth on his head, and saw that he was not too far gone to cast.
I then bargained with old Mount, and the purchase-money
being paid, changed the label and sent him up as "goods
to Neville, at the Horticultural Gardens. A mould has
been now made of him by Neville and my secretary, and
ABOUT FISH, BEASTS, AND BIRDS
219
I have not had time to make a close
}
his skull prepared.
examination of my new specimen. He is, however, be-
tween 6 and 7 feet long, and weighs (by railway scales)
1 cwt. 2 qrs. 16 lbs. I believe him to be the dolphin (Del-
phinus delphis), a male. In his stomach were six large
eels, some only partially digested. Both the dolphin and
old Mount were on the same hunting-grounds, both after
eels, only Mount had the best of the sport after all-he
was "bobbing for eels" and caught a whale.'
(
September 19.-A large tunny from Dawlish arrived
at my door in Albany Street on the foot-board of the
railway delivery van yesterday morning.
'I at once saw that it was such a gigantic thing that
I could not cast it in my kitchen. I therefore took it
up to the distillery, where I was allowed to operate on
it in the stable yard. On taking off the covering (an
old carpet), I found that it was not an albicore, but a
tunny, a magnificent specimen. The only fault was, that
it had been a little too long out of the water to be pleasant
company. The following are its dimensions :—extreme
length, 8 feet 7 inches; greatest circumference, 5 feet
2 inches. It must have weighed between three and four
hundredweight.
"Ubique," who was present, informed me, that he has
frequently been present when tunnies have been caught in
the Mediterranean, and he considers my fish the largest
specimen he ever saw captured. This fish was, I believe,
caught entangled in a pilchard net; it had probably come
out of its proper latitude in pursuit of pilchards. The
tunny is one of the mackerel family; in fact, it is very
like an ordinary mackerel magnified. It is very plentiful
220
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
in the Mediterranean, especially along the north coast
and the Island of Sicily. The fishery takes place in the
months of May and June; this is, I should imagine, most
probably the spawning time.
'The flesh is as red as beef, and seems to contain a
great deal of blood, and it looks tough; nevertheless, vast
quantities are used for the Sicilian markets, and formed
the Saltamentum Sardicum of the ancients.
'I hope shortly to be able to finish the cast of this fine
fish, and add it to my museum at the Horticultural Gardens,
where he will form a fit companion for the sharks and the
whale.
There is an old saying, "that it never rains but it
pours." On Wednesday last, September 16, I received my
tunny, and a telegram that a thresher shark had been
caught at Brighton; a letter to inform me that a shark
had been captured at Dover; a letter from Cornwall about
a sword-fish which had been brought ashore; also news of
a large fish washed ashore at Achill Island, West Ireland,
measuring 27 feet long and 12 feet circumference. This,
doubtless, was an enormous specimen of the basking shark.'
Frank Buckland aided an inquiry by the Society of
Arts 'as to the supply of food for the people,' choosing
as his text, 'Oysters, Mussels, and Deep Sea Fishing';
and in August attended the British Association at Norwich,
and gave a short lecture on the progress of salmon and
oyster culture.
Frequent journeys to examine rivers and weirs, and
advise on and superintend the construction of fish-passes;
lectures at Gloucester, Birmingham, Falmouth, Leaming-
ton, Herne Bay, and Holloway; literary work, and casting
ABOUT FISH, BEASTS, AND BIRDS
221
numerous specimens for his museum; the record of these
labours fills his Journal.
'October 24.-Casting the whole day; an immense
enjoyment. Finished cock and hen bull-trout, female
with eggs, and the big gurnard.'
In December 1868, Frank Buckland was examined as a
witness, with Professor Owen, in a notable case.
The ship
'Dreadnought' sailed from Colombo for London laden with
coffee and insured for 3,000l. One afternoon they hooked
a fish, which broke the line and a moment after threw
several feet of its body out of the water, and was seen
with the line attached. It was a sword-fish. At 4 the
next morning, the mate awoke the captain and told him
the ship had sprung a leak. On returning to Colombo, a
nearly round hole was discovered in the ship's bottom,
piercing the copper sheathing and planking 3 inches
thick. The question was whether the hole was made by
the sword-fish. Numerous instances were shown of ships
pierced by the sword-fish; sometimes to the depth of 14
inches; but in all instances hitherto known the sword re-
mained broken off in the hole, and both Professor Owen
and Frank Buckland doubted the power of the fish to
withdraw its beak. The great power of the sword-fish,'
Frank Buckland said, 'is in forcing itself ahead; its power
is in its tail like the screw of a ship, but the fish could not
go astern, it would have but little power in that direction.
I think if I had a sword-fish by the beak, he could not go
back. I have noticed when handling live salmon that they
always try to go forward, not back. Whether a sword-fish
could extract its beak from a ship's side would of course
depend on the depth that it had penetrated.' 'But,' said
222
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
the counsel, 'you never had hold of a live sword-fish by
the beak and tried whether you could prevent him from
going backwards? 'No, but I should like to.'
This trial, which was decided on other grounds, gave
occasion to a suggestive paper on the uses of the beak of
the sword-fish.
'I have received from the Mediterranean two fine
specimens of the swords of sword-fish. At Constantinople
a large number of these fish were exposed for sale in
the public market; as many as thirty sword-fish had
been caught in one day in the Sea of Marmora; the
specimens in the market weighed between three and five
hundredweight. They are good eating; the flesh is firm ;
the colour between red and yellow, but not quite salmon-
red. The market price was thirty piastres per "hoke,"
one hoke being about 2 lb. There are 120 piastres to
the sovereign. Therefore the price of the fish is 1s. 93d.
per English pound weight, rather dear for this kind of fish,
I should imagine. The two swords sent me are respec-
tively 22 inches and 24 inches in length, about 2 inches
in width at the base, and not quite 1 at the point. They
are like long sharp-pointed paper-knives; in fact, I find
they make capital paper-knives for newspapers. I can
cut open a leaf of the "Times" with one blow, and I can
rap the monkeys' fingers when they come to steal from my
writing-desk; so that a sword from a sword-fish, if well
mounted, would become a very handsome and useful
appendage to the desk of a literary man.
All the teeth of this beast seem to be concentrated,
as it were, in this one huge tooth, and the mouth is ex-
ceedingly small. By putting these two facts together, I
ABOUT FISH, BEASTS, AND BIRDS
223
fancy it possible, that the sword-fish lives upon minute
soft sea creatures, and that he turns up the sand with his
sword to hunt for them. This is the only solution I can
at all give for the presence of this curious sword.
'I have since ascertained a point in the construction of
this sword which I fancy is confirmatory of this idea.
When rapping the fingers of Miss Susey, my monkey,
who came to drink the ink (a beverage of which she is
particularly fond), I happened to break off about an inch
and a half from the tip of the sword. On examining the
fracture I discovered two minute holes in the substance of
the bone. Experience has taught me, that a small probe is
always ready to hand, in the form of a bristle from a hair
brush. Passing one of these downwards, I found that
there was a cavity, going farther than the length of the
bristle, downwards towards the thick end of the sword.
How to find out where the cavity ended was now the
difficulty, but I soon hit upon a mode of determining the
question. I happened to be smoking at the moment, so,
placing the broken end of the sword in my mouth, I blew
smoke into the holes at the top of the sword, and was de-
lighted to see it come out at the other end in two volcano-
like jets. Thus I ascertained, that these minute perforations
extend the whole length of the sword. Besides these two
holes, there is also a cavity in the centre of the sword,
the dissection of which I have not yet finished. What,
then, is the meaning of their presence? I believe they
are cavities which, when the animal was alive, contained
At the lower end of the sword, moreover, I
discovered remains of the cellular bone, known to anato-
mists as the ethmoid bone, and upon which large nerves
nerves.
224
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
ramify themselves. I fancy that the nerves in the sword
must take their origin from the ethmoid bone, and that
they are nerves of sensation, which assist the operations
of the fish, when he uses his sword to rout up the mud
and sand for his food. A somewhat analogous piece of
mechanism can be seen in the beak of a common duck.
This bird searches for minute creatures in mud, and if
the reader will take the trouble to dissect off the skin
from the upper beak of a duck, he will find a large white
nerve on each side coming out of the skull, just in front
of the eye, and ramifying itself on the tip of the bill, so
that the bird has, as it were, the tip of a finger on the end
of its bill, and by the power of touch can select proper,
and reject improper food. In my humble opinion, nature
always economises material to its utmost extent, and every
organ in the structure of every animal has its use, if we
could but know what that use is. This is the doctrine of
Teleology: i.e. the doctrine that every organ is adapted to
a special use.'
His private Journal contains the following entry :
'December 30, 1868.-Last Thursday was my birth-
day. I am now forty-two years old, and in full health of
mind and body. My mind, I feel, is gradually hardening
into an adult mind. My business as Fishery Inspector
has done this. Not only points of natural history are
thought of, but also points of business, conduct of affairs,
legislation, &c. This must be a matter of deep study for
me. I must teach myself, as I have had to teach myself
nearly all I know; but, thank God, the Dean gave me a
good soil at Oxford, which will grow almost any seed
placed in it, and I must now plant a new seed. Those of
ABOUT FISH, BEASTS, AND BIRDS
225
observation have grown into big trees long ago; I must
now plant the tree of mental reasoning upon things ob-
served. I am truly thankful for all mercies, because
all is the gift of God. There are a diversity of gifts,
and I have my gift. I hope, when I have to give in
my account, that I shall be like the just man in the
Parable of the Talents, and the Great Judge will say,
"Well done, thou good and faithful servant." Some
stupid positivists think nothing of Him who gave them
their commission to work: they develope their own ideas
instead. Pray, whence do new ideas come but by the
mysterious influence of a God-proceeding Spirit, which
gives unto all men severally as He will? I do not aspire
to do more than my duty in that station to which it has
pleased God to call me, but I want to do it nobly and
well.'
In 1869 Frank Buckland sent a selection of exhibits
to the Exposition of Fisheries at Havre, and was awarded
a Diploma of Honour, in company with the engineer of the
French Piscicultural Establishment at Huningue, and the
King of Siam.
(
,
In the same year, he received a medal from the Accli-
matisation Society of Victoria, in token of the great
services he had rendered to the cause of acclimatisation;
and in December a silver claret jug was presented to him.
by the Provincial Government of Otago, New Zealand, ‘as
a small acknowledgment of the valuable services kindly
rendered by him in January 1868, in the matter of the
first transmission of salmon ova to the Province.'
In November he finished a series of models of salmon-
ladders for the American Fishery Commissioners, and sent
Q
226
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
them to New York, together with five boxes of specimen
oysters, and a photograph of his museum.
The admirable exhibit of the American Commissioners
at the Fishery Exhibition of 1883, showed what careful
attention the Government of the United States pays to
the Science of Pisciculture, care which our own Govern-
ment would do well to emulate.
Frank Buckland received but little aid in his lifetime
in the formation of the museum, which he has bequeathed
to the nation; and it is lamentable to see, from neglect of
proper housing, the rain dripping in at every storm upon
the casts on which he bestowed such labour and loving care.
The report of 1869 contains a list of ninety rivers
examined by himself or his colleague, Mr. Walpole, over
which fish-passes existed; but of these only twenty-eight
were effective, forty-eight were useless from improper con-
struction or position, and fourteen were but partially suc-
cessful. All these were carefully reported on, and remedies
contrived and suggested.
C
4
This report contains a treatise on the construction of
fish-passes applicable to different forms of weirs, well
worth the attention of conservators of salmon rivers. 'As
men and air-breathing animals pass over water by means
of a bridge constructed in the air, so,' he writes, Sal-
monida, who breathe in water, require a bridge of water
to pass over the obstructions situated in air, and it is
to the construction of these water bridges that we must
principally direct our attention; they come into play under
circumstances, when the distance which might be over-
come by a jump or a spring on the part of the fish is too
great.
ABOUT FISH, BEASTS, AND BIRDS
227
}
So the ever-varying problem was, with sloping boards,
or piled-up boulders, or side-long channels, to break the
current's force, or form successive pools, from one to another
of which the fish might leap, and scale the weir.
No toil was spared in contriving successful fish-passes;
he waded the streams, walked the slippery edges of the
weirs, with many a fall into the water, or knelt in the
stream up to his chest to test the force of the current.
He felt rewarded when he saw the fish leap from pool to
pool and over the weir, as if it were their natural channel.
In 1869 he again visited Bishop Wilberforce at
Lavington. The Bishop received me at the door with
the greatest kindness and hospitality. Great chaff at
breakfast. Put on my water-dress and fished the Bishop's
stream both up and down during a tremendous storm of
wind and rain; present two young Wilberforces, charming
young fellows. The Bishop came out to see me working,
and also the ladies.'
There were also visits to Blenheim. With the Duke of
Marlborough round the private gardens, and fixed on a
place by the waterfall where we should set to work to
cultivate the fish;' and again, later, to prescribe for the
fish found to be dying in the ponds, and to fresh stock the
ponds with 2,000 young fish.
To Windsor many visits were paid in this and previous
years, where the Great Lake trout he had placed in the
lakes had prospered. 'Dragged the Obelisk Lake. The
first haul at upper end got thirteen fish, the second haul
three fish, the largest about 3 lbs., none under 1 lb. The
Prince much pleased.'
'To Windsor; dragged the pond again; caught five
Q 2
228
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
splendid fish, largest about 3 lbs. ; got a good lot of
eggs from her, enough to make a show in five boxes.
This makes altogether twenty-one Great Lake trout in
three hauls.'
Prince Christian, the ranger of Windsor Park, con-
tinued to take a lively interest in his pursuits.
'
February 6.—To Zoological Gardens with Prince
Christian and the Duke of Schleswig-Holstein. Bartlett
did the honours. I recommended certain deer and birds
for the royal parks.'
'9th.-Prince Christian and the Duke of Schleswig-
Holstein came to my museum. They were there two
hours; explained everything to them, and they were
much pleased. Lee showed circulation of the salmon's
blood under the microscope. Rolfe brought down some of
his painted fish.'
Many foreign professors and pisciculturists also visited
him, and were taken over his museum. He entertained
other notabilities.
'February 25, 1869.-With Lee to see the new giantess
and the Siamese Twins.
' March 3.-Gave party to the Siamese Twins and Miss
Swan the giantess. The Siamese highly intelligent people
and seemed much pleased with their visit.
April 4.-Lee asked me to see the giantess and
Siamese Twins; found them looking very seedy and
unwell.
'5th.-Called on the giantess and Siamese Twins; found
them better."
His opinion was now sought on all Bills relating to his
special subjects.
ABOUT FISH, BEASTS, AND BIRDS
229
In 1862 a Scotch Fishery Act had been passed, under
which Mr. Archibald Young had been appointed Com-
missioner of Scotch Salmon Fisheries. This Act was
amended in 1868. Frank Buckland was consulted by the
Home Office, and by others interested in the Scotch
Fisheries, both as to the passing and the carrying out of
the new Act.
In 1869 he gave evidence before a Committee of the
House of Commons to consider the amendment of the
English Fisheries law. A tremendous pull; kept my
brain as steady as I could, and, thank heaven, answered
very straight.' The Committee sat again in 1870, and
their report resulted in an amendment Act of that year.
Another Bill, for the preservation of sea-birds, was
framed in great measure through his influence. All living
things aquatic seemed to have his special sympathy,
and the purposeless destruction of sea-birds, for the mere
pleasure of killing, moved his indignation.
A public meeting, held on March 10, 1869, to enlist
popular sympathy, was chiefly organised by him. The
Duke of Northumberland, Mr. C. Sykes, and many
others took interest in this Bill, which after a good
deal of discussion was passed, and proved a precursor of
others of a like character for the protection of land-birds,
and many a bird on sea and land will owe their lives to
him.
This year a fresh edition of Dean Buckland's 'Bridge-
water Treatise' was brought out, prefaced with a bio-
graphical sketch, written, like so much of his literary work,
in the train, while journeying to inspect some fishery.
'September 6, 1869.--By morning train to York;
230
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
wrote the Dean's life in the train all the way; finished it
just as we got to York.'
In October 1869, when the Serpentine water of Hyde
Park was cleaned out, Frank Buckland superintended the
transfer of the fish from the Serpentine to the Round Pond
in Kensington Gardens, a novel day's fishing. 'On arriving
at the Serpentine, everything and everybody was ready for
work. An old fisherman from Hammersmith had been
engaged, with his nets, which were worked from one of the
ordinary row-boats of the Serpentine. It is very extraordi-
nary how a London mob finds out when anything is going on.
When we first arrived at the place of meeting, there were
very few people present, and we made our first haul on to
the bank; but by the time we had got the net on shore, so
many people had assembled, and they pushed down the bank
so heavily on us, that it was almost impossible to do any
work at all. The first sweep of the net brought to shore
an enormous shoal of sticklebacks and a few small roach.
As the net came nearer to the land the sticklebacks began
to dance into the air and over the net, glittering in the sun
like a shower of silver spangles. The crowd hailed our
first haul with a shout of derision, mixed with groans from
the small boys, who had come with their pickle bottles,
worsted threads, and worms to enjoy their usual morning's
fishing. These little wretches were exceedingly indignant
at our proceedings. Jimmy," said a little urchin to his
fellow-angler, "we'd better go home again, the gents is
killing all the tittlers." Three water-carts were brought
down, and as the fish were taken out of the net they were
transferred in buckets to the carts. The day's work was
(6
1
¹ Log Book of a Fisherman and Zoologist, p. 151.
ABOUT FISH, BEASTS, AND BIRDS
231
not without incident. The old fisherman was nearly en-
gulphed in the mud of the Serpentine, some five or six feet
deep; 'at every step he took he went farther in, floundering
about like a great hippopotamus. Two or three joined hands
with me, and, advancing into the mud at the end of a chain,
I caught hold of the old man's hand, and with a "one, two
three and away!" we gave a good pull
we gave a good pull at him, and he came
suddenly out of the mud with a "flop" like a cork out of a
wine-bottle.' A water-cart upset in the Round Pond, sending
one of the party clean under water. He came up in a
second blowing like a grampus, but not much hurt. They
worked till after dark, thoroughly wet through. The total
result was eleven water-carts full of living fish; this, averag-
ing each cart-load at 500 fish little and big, would make
over 5,000 fish. The great majority of these fish were
little roach from two to four inches long; with, perhaps,
200 or 300 large roach, the largest weighing 2 lbs. There
were also some Prussian and Crucian carp and tench. One
eel was caught, and but one perch, and he was a cripple, for
his upper jaw was rounded into a knob like an apple, and
his deformed face looked like a pantomime mask. The largest
fish caught were bream; the biggest weighing 5½ lbs. Four
very fat and red gold fish, three large bleak, and one big
gudgeon completed the list, with one little trout, the sole
survivor of a family of little "Great Lake trout" put into
the Serpentine two years before.
C
The habits of animals, of which Frank Buckland was
ever observant, were constantly discussed in Land and
Water.' One question mooted at this time was whether
deer in a park, although clever enough to know the dif-
ference between the fowling-piece and the rifle when
232
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND.
in the keeper's hands, had sufficient thinking power to
look up into a tree when their enemy is concealed therein.
'The position of the eye in animals,' Frank Buckland
wrote, 'is a subject exceedingly interesting and well worthy
of consideration. The eyes of the ox, horse, sheep, deer, &c.,
are placed in the side of the head, for the simple reason that
they gain their food by cropping the grass as they go along,
and that they may be enabled to see their enemies, which for
the most part are ground-living quadrupeds like them-
selves, and would attack them on the same level on which
they themselves stand. I do not think the deer depends
much on its power of vision for safety. Nature always
balances her powers, at the same time giving the predomi-
nance of development to one particular sense. Thus the
eagle depends upon his telescopic eye to find his food,
while the mole has very small eyes, but very sensitive
organs of smell. The deer trusts more to his senses of
smell and hearing than he does to sight. Witness the
beautiful ears of the animal, always in motion when
danger is suspected; these ears are active sentinels, awake
to the slightest sound, while the nostrils test the flavour of
the wind as it passes; so that if the enemy were near, the
deer would ascertain his presence either by the sense of
sound or smell sooner than he would by sight. When
watching the deer feeding in Windsor Park, I have ob-
served that their eyes are so placed in their head, as to
command a certain circle of pasture in front of them.
Imagine the light of a bullseye thrown on a pavement, and
you will have an illustration of what I mean. When the
deer either lifts his head or lies down, his focus of vision
remains the same; and in the ordinary course I think a
ABOUT FISH, BEASTS, AND BIRDS
233
deer seldom, if ever, looks above him, because (except when
the sportsman perches himself in a tree) there is nothing
particular to see; therefore if a man were concealed in a
tree, the deer would probably pass underneath without
finding him out. It is not the deer alone that leave
people sitting in trees undisturbed; for have we not seen
pictures innumerable of King Charles II., with his gold
crown on his head, literally "up a tree," while the
soldiers are gaping about at the foot of the tree, looking
in every direction but the right? Soldiers, we know, are
told to look "Eyes right," "Eyes front"; but there is no
word of command, "Eyes upwards.
ووو
'In order to throw some light on the question of deer
looking upwards, I have been making an anatomical ex-
amination of the head of a deer from Richmond Park.
The anatomical structure and condition of the parts about
the head lead me to the same conclusions. In the
head we find three sentinels, which are given to the
animal to warn it of danger from its enemies: these
sentinels are the nose,
the eye,
and the ear. The
question now arises, which is the most active of these
sentinels? The ear is a wonderful acoustic trumpet six
inches long, and nearly four wide; the great outspread
sound-attracting apparatus terminates in a tube about
the size of a cedar pencil, which conveys the sound to a
marvellous arrangement of bones in the internal ear.
There can, therefore, be no doubt but that the deer
depends very much upon his sense of hearing to warn him
of his enemy. We next come to the eye. Although lustrous
and beautifully set in the head, I do not consider the eye to
approach either to the ear or nose in its capacity of monitor
234
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
of approaching mischief. The pupil, instead of being
round as in the human subject, is more or less elliptical; in
the dead animal it is simply a broad slit; hence I conclude
it is more of a nocturnal than a diurnal eye. The eye in
itself is very small, and only weighed one ounce; the lens
is exceedingly transparent and crystalline, and the retina
painted a beautiful green colour, not unlike that of the sea-
mouse; the optic nerve is about the size of a large wheat-
straw. Compared to the optic nerves of some fish, or those
of the lion, this wonderful self-acting telegraph is in a
comparatively undeveloped state. The eye itself is fixed
deep into the orbit; the upper lid is considerably larger
than the lower; there is a pent-house of long and stiff eye-
lashes, extending the whole length of the upper lid; the
eyelashes on the lower lid are comparatively undeveloped ;
the portion of the skull immediately over the eye forms a
kind of flat table, which also projects over the eye itself.
Upon its edge are placed several long and outspreading
hairs forming the eyebrow. From the general appearance
of the eye and its structure, I come to the conclusion
that it is exceedingly difficult for deer to look upwards;
so the facts observed by sportsmen, that deer do not
look upwards, are fully accounted for by the anatomical
structure of the beast. We now come to the nose. The
nostril itself will admit the top of the forefinger easily.
The bone which covers the nasal organ is exceedingly
thin. Upon taking it off I find a most wonderful ap-
paratus for enabling the deer to smell. It consists of
two pear-shaped bones, the structure of which is like
the thinnest film of wax. Upon these bones the delicate.
nerves of smell are outspread, so as to become cognisant of
ABOUT FISH, BEASTS, AND BIRDS
235
I at
the slightest scent which may be wafted by the air.
once make bold to state that we human beings cannot
possibly have any notion of the acute power of smell pos-
sessed by the deer. It is simply impossible that we can
have, because the structure of our nose is far less compli-
cated and developed than in the deer. Perhaps this is
lucky in these days, when pollutions and unpleasant odours
of all kinds are met at every turn. I place, therefore,
the organs of sense in the deer's head in the following
order of development and use to their owner:-1. The
nose. 2. The ear. 3. The eye.
These facts may be
(C
useful to deer-stalkers, who, if desirous to approach a
suspicious deer, should, (1), run the chances of the deer
seeing" them rather than, (2), “hearing" them. Above
all, they should avoid the deer, (3), getting notice of their
presence by the organ of smell.'
The domestic circle of pets in Albany Street was
always maintained. In a large cage by the fire, or, if
invalided, sitting in the fender and warming their hands
at the blaze, lived a succession of monkeys: The Hag,
Jenny, Tiny, Carroty Jane, and Little Jack, whose his-
tories have successively been told. Woe to the coat-tails.
or flounces which approached too near the cage; and when
play-time came and the monkeys were let loose, and chased
each other over book-case, table, and mantel-piece, great
was the scrimmage! A dynasty of suricates, Jemmy the
first, second, and third, cantered about the floor, or sat up
and begged for food. Their rat-like portraiture will be
found in 'Notes and Jottings.' ' Sometimes a Mongoose,
sometimes a Galego, entered the family, and often a sick
¹ Notes and Jottings from Animal Life, p. 24.
236
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
Marmozet, or some wilder creature, was sent from the
Zoological Gardens, to be nursed into health. The pets
had not lost their inconvenient faculty of straying, causing
sorrowful entries in the Journal, such as, 'The Galego got
loose; great row with people at No. 49 about it, the beast
having broken so many ornaments.'
For some time a magnificent dog, Arslan, a Turkish
wolf-hound, adorned the household. Gentle and obedient,
even to John the small page, Arslan had one weak-
ness-he could not abide small dogs; one nip, one shake,
and the small dog was lifeless. He was nearly broken of
this habit, when one day he strayed.into a neighbouring
garden, where, at an open window, sat a lady with her lap-
dog in her lap: one bound, one shake, and the lap-dog
was no more, the lady in hysterics, expecting momentarily
to be herself devoured. John fetched away the monster;
but the lady would not be appeased. Arslan was sent to
the guard-ship on the Herne Bay oyster-beds, under sentence
of transportation for life.
237
CHAPTER XI.
SCOTCH FISHERIES, AND CORRESPONDENCE: 1870-1872.
IN 1870, considering that the short space of eight years
only had been accorded to the protection of Salmonidae,
the multiplication of these fish had, according to the
report for this year, been very striking. The United
Kingdom,' the report continues, 'undoubtedly stands pre-
eminent among European States in the progress of salmon.
culture; and it is to our laws that France, Prussia, Sweden,
Norway, and even Canada and the United States, have
looked, and will look, for a model of legislation based upon
experience and accurate scientific knowledge.'
The still more valuable fisheries of Scotland had never
been neglected like those of England and Ireland; but in
proportion to their value did they merit care, and as a
result of the Parliamentary inquiry of 1869, to which
Frank Buckland contributed his experience, an inquiry
was directed by the Home Office into the effect of the
Acts of 1862 and 1868 on the Scotch fisheries, and Frank
Buckland and Mr. Archibald Young were appointed to
conduct the inquiry.
The months of May, August, and September in this
year were spent in the examination of the Scotch fisheries,
and in the following year a report upon them was pre-
sented, the result of much hard work, elaborate written
238
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
inquiries, and careful personal inspection of forty-six
Scotch rivers. The benefits of the recent legislation were
clear, but various improvements were suggested.
With regard to the cultivation of English rivers, Frank
Buckland saw clearly, that the seemingly conflicting in-
terests which, selfishly pursued, had ruined the salmon
fisheries, could be reconciled without injury to any; and
he strove unceasingly, and with no little success, to unite
all classes in a common belief, to him plain as an axiom,
that each and all were interested in the preservation of
salmon.
The destruction of young salmon, he urged in his re-
port of 1870, not only exposed the offenders to penalties,
but by wilfully destroying the fry, when in an undeveloped
state and unsaleable, they were seriously injuring their
own pockets; 'it is as foolish an act as slaughtering and
throwing away chickens with their feathers first appear-
ing, instead of allowing them to grow into poultry worth
several shillings a couple.'
'Millowners who refuse passage for the fish to the
higher waters should recollect that, unless fish are bred,
they cannot be caught; and that, if a just proportion of
fish are let up during the proper fishing season, the upper
people will take greater care to preserve them during the
spawning time.
'I do not suppose the miller would have any objec-
tion to the mill wheel being protected by a grating from
sucking in the descending salmon, as it would not inter-
fere with the action of his wheel, and the lives of many
kelts would be saved, which would probably reappear as
very heavy salmon at a future time."
SCOTCH FISHERIES, AND CORRESPONDENCE
239
As to the ever-varying problem of fish-passes, his
advice was characteristic: There are but three possible
ways by which the passage of a weir may be effected by
the fish; first, over the weir; second, through the weir; and
third, round the weir. In contriving or altering a pass,
it will be found to be a useful plan for the observer to
imagine himself to be a salmon, and consider which of these
three ways would be best for him to adopt. The natural
road for the fish to take is over the weir, and it is for this
reason that we see the fish jumping at it; but it must not
be forgotten, that, if proper means be used, we can induce
the fish to adopt almost any other road we think fit,
provided always we place structures built in accordance.
with their powers of locomotion and the dictates of their
instincts.'
And thoroughly did he carry out this principle, be-
coming as an inspector almost amphibious; wading the
pools below the weirs, feeling the force and direction of the
current, and striving, so far as is possible to man, to enter
into the feelings of a salmon. No wonder, then, when it
was publicly stated, that in his evidence before the House
of Commons, he had leaned rather to the interests of the
millers than to the interests of the salmon fisheries,
he protested that his statements had either been mis-
construed or not understood. 6
Having placed myself as
a shield over the salmon interests, I have, as is the fate of
shields, received most of the arrows.'
In that evidence his ideas as to the construction and
position of salmon-ladders were fully detailed. The models
then exhibited are to be seen in his museum. Since he
had given his evidence in August 1869, seven weirs had,
240
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
within his own experience, been successfully made passable
for fish, by one or other of the plans he had suggested; and
nearly fifty passes, most, if not all of which were working
efficiently, had been erected since he and Mr. Walpole had
held office, and several others had been greatly improved.
Against river pollutions he continued to lift up his voice,
telling the people of Gloucester, that the Chinese, who used
everything in the way of manure, called us barbarians,
perhaps because we poured our sewage into the rivers. A
calculation had been made, that the utilisation of our
sewage would produce four hundred and five million
loaves of bread, enough to nourish five millions of people
for a year. Thousands a year are paid for guano from the
South Sea Islands, while we waste what we have at our
own doors. Take the pollutions from the river, where
they are doing harm, and place them on the land, where
they would be doing good.'
6
Returning from the North, after commencing the
Scotch Inquiry, Frank Buckland wrote his 'Impressions of
Scotland.'
'I always write in the railway, and long habit has
enabled me to do this with great facility. I am now on my
road south, after much hard work examining rivers on
the east coast of Scotland with my co-commissioner, Mr.
Archibald Young. We have just passed Berwick, and the
engine has got up her running (and splendid running it is)
for Newcastle. I shall therefore pass away the time by
putting down on paper some of my impressions of Scotland
before they are dulled by the racket of London life and
business.
'I am exceedingly pleased with Scotland and the Scots.
SCOTCH FISHERIES, AND CORRESPONDENCE
241
The people are kind-hearted, most hospitable, and, above
all, highly intelligent; everybody seems to be educated.
In all the towns and villages I visited, regularly every
morning the streets were crowded with children going to
school at 9 o'clock, not creeping along according to the
old adage-
The fatal morn arrives, and O!
The weeping youth to school must go—
but stepping along with an active and light gait, as though
learning was worth having. At Dumfries, I especially
noticed the door of an infant school. There was a regular
swarm of little urchins playing about until the clock struck,
and in they went like bees into a hive. Few, if any, of these
little things had shoes and stockings. They were all
exceedingly cleanly dressed, and their hair nicely brushed
and oiled. Girls seemed to get their share of education as
well as the boys. I went by an afternoon train from Perth
to Dundee to examine the fish-market there. At
At every
station along the road, one, two, or three boys and girls
got out with their bag or strap full of books. They were
returning from the schools at Perth. They went in by
themselves in the morning and came out at night, and this
every working day in the year.
'Few of the children in the smaller towns and villages
wear shoes and stockings. An excellent custom; it saves
expense, and makes them healthy. The more you walk
upon shoe leather the thinner it gets, the more you walk
upon human leather the thicker it gets. I examined the
soles of the feet of some fisher girls who were going out to
collect mussels at Finhorn; the skin was as thick and as
hard as the foot of an elephant.
R
242
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
'I saw very few kilts-in more than one month only
nine-for I counted them. Why are kilts not worn in
Scotland? At Nairn they told me, that, if you saw a man
in a kilt in Scotland, you might be quite sure he was an
Englishman. About Peterhead, the peasants had peculiar
wrinkles like crows' feet round their eyes, which they kept
partially shut, after the manner of Esquimaux in the
pictures. A lady told me that these features were caused
by the people, for generation after generation, being
obliged, by the bleak climate and exposure, to pucker up
their eyes, to keep out the snow in winter and the dust in
summer. Here, then, is a crow's (foot) to pick for Mr.
Darwin, a case of cause and effect.
'We drove from Peterhead to Banff, a terrible dreary
and open place, nothing to look at but the rooks—they
call them crows in Scotland-and the peewits. I thought
of plovers' eggs on Epsom race-course. There are so many
peewits, that I do not think the Scots know how good
plovers' eggs are, and that they are worth threepence
each in London. I did not tell anybody of this fact, or
the poor Scotch plovers would not thank me for my kind-
ness. Hens' eggs used formerly to be very cheap in
Scotland; an old lady told me that she used to give three-
pence a dozen for them; when her mother, who was
English, came to the country, hens' eggs were one penny
per dozen; she thought this too little, so she gave the
"wife" three half-pence, and her husband scolded her for
her extravagance. This was at Nairn it happened to be
market-day when we reached Nairn, and about 5 o'clock
in the evening. There was a crowd of women selling
dried haddocks; a great proportion of the diet of the
SCOTCH FISHERIES, AND CORRESPONDENCE
243
Scotch people seems to be Finnon haddies; at least it was my
lot to have haddocks in some shape or form for breakfast,
and generally also for lunch and dinner, every day whilst
I was in Scotland. There must be enormous numbers of
these fish in the sea off the east coast of Scotland, and the
mussel scalps are in consequence of very great value to
the fishermen, who preserve them most carefully.
'The fishermen of Nairn are of a peculiar class, like the
fishermen of the Claddaugh in Galway; they keep entirely
to themselves, and they all have what they call "Tee names,"
and this Tee name is affixed to their proper name: as
John Main (Daish); John Jamieson (Joe); Robert Main
(Cogs); James Main (Collie); William Main (Sailor); David
Main (Sergeant); Alexander Main (Skipper); John Main
(Downie); Hugh Main (Buckie); Robert Main (William's
son).
'All the members of the same family have the same Tee
name. In one fishing boat there were no less than seven men
every one of whom was a "David Main,” hence the neces-
sity of Tee names, to distinguish one person from the other.
'I suddenly came upon about twenty or thirty old fish-
wives; they were sitting round a corner on the sand
warming themselves, and waiting for the boats, which I
could see in the distance, to come ashore with haddocks.
from Cromarty Bay. They were all knitting and all
talking; my appearance made them suddenly silent;
however, we soon made friends. I told them I wanted a
specimen of a Scotch fish-wife for my museum; "Who will
come?" said I. "I will," "I will," said all of them jumping
up in a body. I was frightened at so many offers from so
many fair ladies, and bolted like a shot. They all rushed
R 2
244
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
after me shouting and holloing, and the oldest and ugliest
very nearly caught me. But I was too quick, so she
threw her fish creel after me, with a wild hooroo.'
,
On April 19, 1870, news arrived of the capture of a
salmon at Gravesend. Went directly and called upon Mr.
W-
who was very kind and civil, and let me have the
salmon for 2l. 6s. Od. The people thought it was a dead
child I was carrying through the streets. Took the salmon
to the Athenæum smoking-room; wrote a letter to the
"Times" about him.
'20th. To Windsor with the salmon. Down the
Thames in steamboat of Board of Conservators. Called
upon Prince Christian at Frogmore, and showed him the
salmon.
'21st.-Sent salmon off to the Museum. Neville tells
me an enormous number of people came to see the salmon.
'23rd.-Cast the Thames salmon five times. Took one
of the casts down to the Royal Society.
' 29th.-Sir R. Murchison's soirée. Took down cast of
group of lizards and puff adder, and the Thames salmon;
all much admired.'
The Museum continued to occupy both thought and
labour.
'June 20.—Cast big 70 lb. salmon; took me from 10 to 3
to do it.' This is the largest salmon in the Museum.
July 16.-Took cab-load of things down to Museum;
worked at Museum from 11 to 8; very tired.
(
July 20.-Took another lot of things to the Museum :
worked there very hard, nearly all day: place getting into
a little order.
'23rd. Took down a cab-load of things to the Museum;
SCOTCH FISHERIES, AND CORRESPONDENCE
245
worked very hard putting up casts.
Prince Buonaparte
there. Museum is now pretty fair and straight.'
+
One summer day in this July, when making new
arrangements for the trout-breeding establishment in
Windsor Great Park, Frank Buckland observed the ground,
about twenty yards from where he was standing, in
motion. The water from the hatching troughs runs down
a ditch, and it was on one side of this ditch that the earth
was moving. 'I at once dropped on my knees,' he says.
'I
perceived that a mole was looking for his luncheon, and
not being able to dig through the hardened earth of the
Park, was trying his luck along the softer ground by the
side of the ditch. Having taken a good survey of the
place, I made a circuit, and crawled on hands and knees
to the top of the bank opposite Mr. Mole. He must have
heard me coming, for he at once struck off work. In about
a minute he began again, and I could just see his dark fur
among the green sward; taking a good aim, I jumped from
the bank right in front of him. Never yet was a mole so
surprised; he wheeled about at once, and began to sink
into the earth like a hot knife into a pat of butter. Nature
has given a mole a tail-I wonder if he ever wags it.
Turning quickly, I was just in time to catch hold of his
tail, and then came a game of pull mole, pull inspector.
The little rascal fought hard for liberty, and putting out
his great broad spade-like fore-paws, stuck as tight in his
hole, as an oak trenail in a ship's plank. I had then to
pass a stick down under him and lever him out. When I
held him up by his tail he tried to bite, but he did not
utter any noise or cry, from which I conclude that the mole
has no cry. If he had, he surely would have piped his
246
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
·
whistle when in distress. The next thing to do was to
secure the prisoner; so I tied a bit of official red tape round
his leg, and looked about for something in which to carry
him home. A pocket-handkerchief he would soon have
scratched and eaten into holes; so I emptied the cigars out
of my big leathern cigar-case, and for the precious weeds
substituted talpes vulgaris. After he had got his wind,
Mr. Mole became very lively, and kicked up a fine rumpus
in the cigar-case, but I got him safe to the house of my
friend Mr. Menzies. We then paraded him on the lawn,
and he tried very hard to dig himself into the earth, and
succeeded in making a tunnel or two, but the red tape on
his leg went into the hole as fast as he did, and showed
us his whereabouts. I borrowed a biscuit tin, in which
I carried my prisoner up to town, and in the train had
plenty of time to make a careful examination of his habits
and peculiarities. In the first place, he is tremendously
strong. The limbs, which answer to hands in the human
subject, are literally earth paddles. They are worked by
an enormous mass of muscles; in fact, I was reminded of
the pectoral muscles of a bird, which work the wings
with such ease and velocity. The digging paws of a mole
may indeed be said to be wings, only that they fly through
stiff earth, not elastic air. The snout of the mole is very
long and tapered; the tip of it is of a bright pink colour,
and the beast moves it about with the same facility as an
elephant moves his proboscis. It is altogether not unlike
the nose of a pig, and it is made to do the same work, that
is, to rout in the ground, and to dig up food.
'My mole frequently during the railway journey climbed
up to the edge of his tin-box, and looked me straight
SCOTCH FISHERIES, AND CORRESPONDENCE
247
"Who in the name of
in the face, as much as to say,
Herne the Hunter (whom I often meet at the dead of nigh
when out worm-catching in Windsor Forest) are you?
Confound my tail! I wish I was like a guinea-pig, and had
no tail, and then you could not have caught me. Look
you in the face, why not? Can't you see I have as good
a pair of eyes as you have? Please observe them; nature
has parted my hair all round them so as to form a circle,
and when I like I can close up the hairs, so that un-
observant people can't find them, and then they insult me
and my family by saying, as 'blind as a mole.' Now, Mr.
Inspector, I am glad for one reason you have caught me.
If you will allow me the 'Lancet' newspaper, which I
see sticking out of your travelling-bag, I will read you a
passage: you see, I do not want spectacles to make out
print--Dr. R. L. Lee has published a paper in the Pro-
ceedings of the Royal Society on the organs of vision in
the mole, in which, after ably describing the anatomy of
my optic nerve, he says, 'It will thus be seen that the eye
of the mole presents us with an instance of an organ which
is rudimentary, not by the retention of fœtal characters,
or to use a better term, arrest of development, but through
disuse, aided perhaps by natural selection.' Now just tell
Dr. Lee that it is nothing of the kind, and that my
ancestors, who annoyed the 'grand old gardener,' Adam, by
digging up his grass plots in the Garden of Paradise, bad
just the same-sized eyes, neither larger nor smaller than I
have. The same great wisdom that gave me ‘earth paddles,'
a routing nose, and a fur which-look for yourself-cannot
be rumpled, but which is smooth, whether I am going
forwards or backwards in my burrow, and that made my
218
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
teeth the most beautiful set of insectivorous teeth among
animals, also made my eye fit for the work it has to do.
I have been designed to prey upon earth-worms; the
worms will not come up to the surface to me, so I must
go down into the earth to them; for this work my eyes
are fitted, and I defy any philosophers in the world to
disprove this.""
C
In September 1870 he went to a penny wax-work show
in Scotland. An awful place! The advertisement at the
door in the street is a wax Abraham as large as life, killing
a wax Isaac: you should see Isaac's face! Inside is the
Judgment of Solomon; a wax soldier in an old Life Guard's
cuirass with a baby in his hand, held by its heel, while
he is going to split the baby with a carving knife like
a man splits a salmon for kipper: the baby is crying glass
tears! Then there is Noah coming out of the Ark; Shem,
Ham, and Japhet in Scotch kilts! All the rest of the wax-
works consists of murderers, misers, and villains of all
kinds, a splendid army of vagabonds, commanded by a
wax poet Burns, whose face is like the wax gentleman in
the barber's shop, and would be better for some rouge.'
Once, about this time, he found even a superfluity of fish.
A milk woman, not far from Albany Street, served out
at the door a pennyworth of milk, and in the milk jug the
servant girl found a live stickleback swimming about. When
the fish, all alive, oh! was shown to the old woman, she turned
round to her boy and boxed his ears. Jimmy, oh! Jimmy,
you lazy rascal,' she said; 'you never strained the water.'
Some time in the same autumn, Frank Buckland added
another monkey to his family of pets; but even he could
not always compose the jealousies of that happy family.
6
SCOTCH FISHERIES, AND CORRESPONDENCE
249
'I received,' he says, 'a note to say that a spider-
monkey was for sale. The price asked was extravagant
as usual, but I eventually obtained it. My new pet was,
without exception, the ugliest monkey I ever beheld; he
had been christened by the name of "Nigger"; a most ap-
propriate name, for he was as black as a coal, and about
as lazy as I have understood niggers generally are. Nigger
had no thumbs, only four fingers, which seemed to act in
concert very much like the hooks that we find in the sloth.
If, however, he had no thumbs, he had a tail, and the
thumbs seemed to have been by nature transferred to the
tip of the tail, for the under surface of the tail, for the
length of four or five inches, was covered with thin skin of
the same character as that which lined the inside of the
fingers, the consequence being that his tail was prehensile
in the truest sense of the word. I know this from ex-
perience, because when Nigger had his tail round my Leck
it was difficult to release myself from his grasp. Nigger
seemed to know he was ugly, and that it was the only point
upon which he could claim anybody's consideration; when-
ever therefore a stranger came in, he made a pitiful face,
and stretched out his long skinny arms in a supplicating
manner, as much as to say, "I am only poor Nigger. I
cannot help being black and ugly; don't be unkind to me."
When I got home we let him loose, and the first
thing he did was to rush to the fire, and sit on the fender
wagging his tail, nodding his head, and grinning like one
of Christy's minstrels. My two little monkeys Susey and
the Hag were exceedingly indignant when Nigger was
brought to my house. It was very amusing to watch the
Hag's countenance, when she saw the intruder's queer
250
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
antics. They made fearful faces at him, and when let out
of their cages, began a system of persecution amusing to
lookers-on, but unpleasant for Nigger. At last I found it
impossible to preserve peace with the three monkeys, so I
did a little bit of dealing in "Black Ivory" as slave-
dealing was called, and sold poor Nigger. He was care-
fully packed up and sent to Paddington. When they
opened his packing-case at the Zoological Gardens, Bristol,
poor Nigger was found dead at the bottom of the box! I
never could find out what killed him, but I have a strong
idea he was suffocated. Poor beast!'
'December 17, 1870.-My birthday. I am very thankful
to God to allow me so much prosperity and happiness on
my forty-fourth birthday, and that I have been enabled to
work so well. I trust He may spare me for many more
years to go on with my work.'
New problems in fish-culture had to be solved. It
was discovered that a considerable export of unclean and
unseasonable salmon, although prohibited, took place from
Ireland to France. Frank Buckland applied in turn to the
police courts in London, and to the custom-houses of London,
Bristol, Folkestone, and Dover with but little effect, until,
at his instance, an Act was passed, giving to custom-house
officers a right of search for unseasonable fish, which stopped
the illegal trade. It then appeared that unseasonable fish
were also frequently sold in the London market. After a
successful prosecution of one offender, the leading fish
salesmen came to the inspectors' aid, and voluntarily gave
up a considerable amount of unwholesome fish consigned
to them for sale.
Another curious difficulty arose from the increase in
SCOTCH FISHERIES, AND CORRESPONDENCE
251
some rivers, especially the Coquet in Northumberland, of
bull-trout (Salmo Eriox) to the prejudice and even exter-
mination of the more valuable salmon (Salmo Salar).
'It appears to me,' he wrote in his report for 1870,
'that the increase of bull-trout may be attributed to
several causes. We men must confess that, if we interfere
with the ordinary course of nature, corresponding changes
will ensue, without any opinion on the point being re-
quested from the human race. I give an example of this;
the increase of wood-pigeons is principally due to the
over-preservation of game. Hawks are shot down in
order that pheasants may be preserved: the consequence
is that, the natural enemy of the wood-pigeon being
destroyed, they at once increase, in a ratio which could
not take place, if the hawks, the natural check upon their
undue increase, were allowed to continue their natural
functions of keeping down their numbers. It is useful to
take this example which can be seen, because we cannot
see what goes on under the water, we can only argue from
results. The increase of wood-pigeons is somewhat ana-
logous to the increase of bull-trout: man has interfered
with the ordinary balance of nature. We must also
remember that a struggle for existence is continually going
on among races of animals. Thus the red-legged partridge
has gained the ascendency over the common partridge.
Again, the old British black rat has died out gradually
before the Norway rat, the former being now but rarely
found in the British Isles: and the evil may assume even
greater dimensions, for fear is entertained that the rabbits
introduced into Australia, and now extending themselves
into parts of the country not sufficiently populated to keep
252
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
them down, may eventually do serious mischief to the
sheep, not only by devouring their food, but by tainting
the ground.'
So after an inquiry duly held at Alnwick, it was decided,
with the consent of the Home Secretary, to declare war
against the bull-trout in the Coquet, in favour of the salmon.
For five years the war was hotly waged; more than
70,000 bull-trout were slain, weighing over 131 tons, while
many thousand salmon were bred artificially in the upper
waters. But nature declared herself on the side of the
bull-trout, which multiplied in spite of the slaughter, while
the salmon showed no inclination to return. An army of
50,000 bull-trout swarmed up the river in the fifth year,
and ate up all the little salmon; so the allies of the salmon
abandoned the contest, and the bull-trout were left in
undisputed possession of the territory they had conquered.
How great is the fecundity of fish is shown by the
following table of the number of ova in different species,
as found by Frank Buckland's observations:
Name of Fish
Weight of Fish
No. of Eggs
1
Salmon ¹
Trout
Carp
Perch
Jack
•
lbs.
12
OZS.
10,000
1
1,008
•
•
14호
​633,350
3 2
155,620
•
20,592
28
292,320
32
595,200
•
""
42,840
480,480
""
Roach.
Conger Eel
Smelt.
Lump Fish
•
28
2
2
15,191,040
36,652
116,640
'The average number of eggs in a salmon is 850 to each pound
weight.
SCOTCH FISHERIES, AND CORRESPONDENCE
253
Diligent care of salmon did not lessen Frank Buck-
land's interest in curiosities of his own species.
6
Among the distinguished visitors to London at this
time of the year,' he wrote in May 1871, 'we have now
among us a strange party from the other side of the
Atlantic. This party consists of Miss Swan the giantess;
Christine Millie, or "the Two-headed Nightingale;" and
Captain Martin Van Buren Bates the giant.
'It is rather awkward to write a personal description of
a lady, particularly as she will probably read what I write ;
however, I make bold to say that Miss Swan is the most
agreeable, good-looking giantess I ever met; by her side I
feel but a pigmy, for she towers far above my head; and an
ordinary tall man, say a Life Guardsman, would look like
a doll by her side. One never dares ask the age of ladies,
nor their height either. Miss Swan is somewhere between
seven and eight feet. I cannot say the exact height to an
inch, but it is nearer eight than seven; at a guess (I hope
Miss S. will forgive me) I should say seven feet six or
seven inches is about the mark. Reader, look at the door
of your room; Miss Swan has to bend her head consider-
ably to enter an ordinary door; or mark out eight feet on
the wall by sticking up a queen's head letter stamp, the
top of the young lady's head will be a few inches below
this mark. Miss Swan is a native of Nova Scotia, is lady-
like in manners and address, and would be a most agreeable
neighbour at a dinner-party. In talking to her, however,
every now and then her tremendous stature strikes me,
and when she stands up she looks like a female Goliath.
I should be sorry to have to pay her milliner's bill, for her
dress would cover a small haystack, and when she stretches
254
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
out her arm she looks like a statue of Minerva which had
walked down from the top of a lofty pinnacle.
'Captain Bates, the giant, is a splendid-looking fellow,
very unlike the pictures of the giant in the "fe fa fum; I
smell the blood of an Englishman" legend. In fact, the
giant is much too well dressed to show off his height. Of
all the abominations to appear in in public, nothing in my
opinion can equal the black suit, which we English and
Americans imagine to be "the thing." If he really
wants to look well, let him order a uniform like that of
the Life Guards, Royal Horse Guards Blue, or French
Cuirassiers. Captain Bates, I understand, has served in
the Confederate army; he has been in action, and was
wounded three times; why therefore not put on his
American uniform?
'Both the giant and the giantess were born in the
same year, 1847, so that their age is twenty-four.
Captain Bates has three brothers all six feet five to seven
inches high. He is about as tall as Miss Swan, and a
splendid couple they make when standing side by side.
We hear rumours of the god Cupid having been seen as
a passenger on board the ocean steamer, that brought this
couple from the other side; and also that the Captain has
put one of Miss Swan's gloves in his pocket, with which
he visited a jeweller's shop, and asked the price of a plain
gold ring to fit the fourth finger of the left hand of the
lady that wore that glove.
'I must now describe the "Two-headed Nightingale."
The Siamese Twins were certainly very wonderful people,
but in Christine-Millie we have, I think, something more
remarkable. The Siamese Twins are two old gentlemen
SCOTCH FISHERIES, AND CORRESPONDENCE 255
I
somewhat advanced in years. The "Two-headed Night-
ingale" is composed of two charming young negress girls,
who are united back to back by an indissoluble band.
do not recollect to have seen a more intelligent, ever-
laughing happy face, than that of Miss Christine. She
has dark rolling eyes and jet-black hair, and though her
features are those of the daughters of Ham, yet there is a
quickness and intelligence about her that shows culture
and education.
'Millie is like her sister in face and in her charming
manners. They live in perfect concord, and from long
habit walk about and even dance, without any appearance
of effort or constraint. They are called the "Two-headed
Nightingale," because they both sing very well, and the
duets they practise show they have good voices, which have
been successfully cultivated. Their age is nineteen.'
The same sympathy, which led Frank Buckland to
labour for the protection of sea-birds, and to pity and aid
the salmon's fruitless leaps, extended to all animals, wild
or tame, which seemed to need his help, and his sympathy
was not sentimental, but effective.
'I arrived at Newcastle,' he wrote in July 1871, 'at one
in the morning of Tuesday last, on my road to the Coquet
to examine into certain questions relative to bull-trout.
Turning out before breakfast, I saw a large number of
pigs being driven to market past the door of the "Station
Hotel." They were, for the most part, pretty fat, and were
all marked with three stripes cut into the hair on the left
side. The poor brutes were evidently very tired; one by
one they kept lagging behind, till an application of the
driver's whip made them move sulkily on with a grunt.
256
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
My particular object in writing this article, is to call
attention to the great cruelty of not giving these animals
some water to drink. These poor thirsty creatures spread
themselves across the road as far as the driver's whip
would permit them to go, and eagerly sucked and fought
for every drop of dirty water they found in the gutters or
puddles. If I could have found a pump, and could have
arranged a trough, I would certainly have given the driver
a drink of beer, to allow me to give the pigs a drink of
water.
'After a hasty breakfast, I went to the pig-market,
which is close by the hotel; there I found the herd of pigs
separated out into pens. I can assure my readers that the
study of the faces of these pigs was worthy of the artist,
who painted that wonderful pig picture now in the Ex-
hibition of the Royal Academy. The attitude of one of
the pigs in the pen was exceedingly human. Piggy was
evidently in a state of intense seediness, and so far as I
could judge from his countenance—which was, I fancied,
paler than usual-was in the condition which we human
beings experience after a long and stormy sea voyage,
backed up by a dire attack of sea-sickness. Worn out by
sheer fatigue, the pig had laid himself down on his side,
his legs were extended full length, his head on the ground,
and he snored heavily. It was a cold morning, there was
no sun, the pig had no covering, and every now and then
he gave a regular shiver; he was probably dreaming of
his comfortable, but now far-off, home, in some Irish
cabin, and doubtless his semi-articulated grunts were the
dream responses to his mistress's invitation to a drink of
butter-milk, or a feed of potatoes and barley-meal. A
SCOTCH FISHERIES, AND CORRESPONDENCE
257
thought might possibly have crossed his mind, in a porcine
sense at least, "Justice to Ireland" had not been done;
he had been petted and fed on the best of food for months
past, and all this supposed kindness-he found out too
late--was to convert his precious carcase into "rint" for
the cabin.
6
By the side of this pig was an old sow covered with
red hair. The poor old lady could not get a wink of
sleep; she kept restlessly shifting her position in every
direction, and her bad asthma would not allow her to rest
more than a minute or two in any attitude. The squeaks
of some little pigs, in a neighbouring pen, seemed also
considerably to distract her maternal mind. Every now
and then she listened to these squeaks, as though she
recognised the voice of the son and heir out of her last
fifteen children.
(
Upon all the faces of these worn-out pigs there was
but one expression, meaning, as plain as a pig's face can
speak, water for mercy' sake, give us water! I write this
article especially to call the attention of the city authorities.
of Newcastle to the inhumanity shown to these poor pigs.
I have also sent a copy of this letter to the secretary to
the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.
'On behalf, therefore, of the pigs, I once more make
an appeal for water-a good drink of pure, clean, wholesome
water, and not a suck at a dirty street puddle.'
The appeal was not without effect. Travelling soon
afterwards in Scotland, he was recognised as the friend of
thirsty animals, and learned with pleasure that the New-
castle market was now well supplied with water-troughs.
At the Cat Show, held at the Crystal Palace in the
S
258
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
same month, the hard fate of the wild cat drew forth
expressions of pity, and an appeal for some mercy.
"There was a great crowd round the Duke of Suther-
land's wild cat, caught at Golspie. He was first sent to
my house in Albany Street; but the beast was so fierce,
that there would have been a "Mutiny of the Nore," both
of bipeds and quadrupeds, if I had taken him as a guest;
so I was unwillingly obliged to pass him on in a cab to
Bartlett of the Zoological, who has put him in excellent
condition for the show. Now that the show is over, the
wild cat will again retire to private life at the Zoological.
At the show he looked very bitter and snarly; he kept his
ears flat down, and every now and then smiled a ghastly
grin, and showed his white teeth, with a hissing "kuss
kuss," as much as to say, "Let me out of thi cage but
for a minute, you wretched Londoners, and I'll make the
lot of you skedaddle. I'm a prisoner now, but I've got
good old Scotch blood in my veins, and I would make the
bundle of you clear out like frightened sheep, as my
ancestors did the Picts hundreds of years ago." I went
behind the bar to examine him more closely, and called
him, "Puss, Puss, Puss!" I fancied the poor brute smiled,
and I fancied also I heard him whisper, "Mr. Buckland,
dear sir, I owe to you this delightful afternoon in the
Crystal Palace in a cage, instead of spending it in a hollow
tree in the far north, with my wife and dear kittens.
Kuss kuss you; but never mind, you are a good sort of
fellow. I suppose mourir pour la patrie is the correct thing.
Do pray ask the Duke to give his gamekeeper orders not to
kill down my friends and relations quite so hard, for we do
him more practical service than he thinks; and if we did
SCOTCH FISHERIES, AND CORRESPONDENCE
259
some mischief, there will be plenty of grouse left for the
guns on the 12th, and we would all of us rather be shot, and
'die game' at the hands of a sportsman with a breechloader,
than be ignominiously trapped, and have our poor legs
snapped in half by the cruel iron of a gin set for us, when we
are so starved that we might even ask for admission into St.
Pancras workhouse; or even let the gentlemen come out.
and hunt us with terriers and sticks, and we will show
them some sport. Ask the Duke to preserve us poor wild
cats. Our next-door neighbours, the eagles, told me before
I was fool enough to be caught, that the Duke protected
them; so perhaps, if you will kindly tell the Duke what
I ask you, this charming (oh, how hot it is!) visit to the
Crystal Palace may be of use to my fraternity."
Next to live animals, Frank Buckland loved objects of
scientific or curious interest. Every specimen in his own
museum had its story and a place in his affections, and he
constantly strove to stimulate in others a like taste.
A visit to Canterbury in September 1871 gave occa-
sion to call public attention to the interesting but neglected
museum of that city.
'After an inspection of the river Stour, I put off my
return to London for a couple of hours in order to examine
the Canterbury Museum, about which, by the way, two
influential gentlemen of the city, with whom I dined, knew
nothing whatever. I shall now attempt to describe its
contents, and, at the same time, write what I think ought to
be done for the future. Firstly, therefore, the Canterbury
Museum contains specimens of very great interest and
value, but they sadly want arranging, labelling, and clean-
ing. Standing just inside the door of the museum, is a
s 2
260
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
very fair but small specimen of a stuffed elephant. This
poor elephant has been on sentry duty, I should say, for many
years. He wears on his back a New Zealand chief's cloak,
rather suggestive of a confusion of locality. He ought to
have a model howdah on his back to show how the intelli-
gent animal is used in India as a beast of burden. A
descriptive label should, moreover, be placed near him,
showing the value of elephants, the various localities
whence they come, the difference that exists between the
Indian and African elephants as shown by the ear and the
teeth. The trunk of this poor elephant has a compound
comminuted fracture, and straw protrudes from the interior
of his trunk in a most artistic manner. The neighbour-
ing cobbler could sew this trunk in five minutes. The
weapons from New Zealand, and the South Sea Islands,
shields from Australia, etc., are exceedingly good and
valuable they should all be taken down and properly
cleaned (not varnished), relabelled, and hung up again
according to the countries whence they come.
6
Going upstairs, we come to the museum proper. The
contents of the cases are in the utmost confusion and dis-
order. In the first case are some exceedingly fine speci-
mens of fossil elephants' tusks dredged up at Herne Bay,
and found in the drift of the Stour valley. These valua-
ble specimens are all piled one over another like logs of
wood, and if not soon looked to will fall into dust. The
contemplation of these tusks will teach the Canterbury
people, that there was something more ancient than even
their grand old Cathedral, or even the Romans and Saxons
before the Cathedral. The tusks may also cause an in-
quiring mind to ask, how and when did elephants live at
SCOTCH FISHERIES, AND CORRESPONDENCE
261
Canterbury and Herne Bay; and this may probably lead to
the study of the local geology, and to the giving an object
to daily constitutional walks, while at the same time many
lads and lasses may be induced to read the story of our
earth, before men appeared on its face, a story much more
interesting and thought-coining than the sensational novel
rubbish of the present day. In the same case with these
elephants' tusks are some casts of toe bones; I at once
recognised them as parts of the foot of the megatherium.
I looked about for the other bones and soon found them;
the pelvis under one of the cases, the femur in one place,
the tibia in another, and some more toe bones at the far
end of the room. A cast of the armour-plated coat of the
glyptodon is leaning up against one of the cases, while the
animal's head is several feet away; close to a collection of
dried cats, rats, calculi from a horse, an armadillo's skin,
wild boars' heads, sharks' teeth and backbones, the foot of
an elephant, the head of a porpoise, and other objects; all
very interesting and instructive if put in their proper
places, but now exhibited without order, label, or descrip-
tion.
'The bones of the megatherium should be put together;
a clever blacksmith could do it with iron rods and wire,
if the order of the bones were pointed out to him; and lo
and behold! there would rise up to view the hind quarters
of an enormous South American animal, now of course
extinct, whose history and habits, thanks to Professor
Owen and my father the late Dean of Westminster, are
perfectly well known; and a most curious history is
that of the megatherium, with his double skull like a
fireman's helmet.'
262
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
6
Thus each case was described and the proper arrange-
ment pointed out. 'I understand,' he continued, that the
annual number of visitors is fourteen thousand. Surely,
then, it is worth while to assist the education of these
people, who would not come to the museum at all if they
did not wish to learn. Two things are wanted, money
and knowledge. A committee should be formed; one
gentleman should undertake to catalogue and arrange
the birds, another the antiquities, another the shells,
another the minerals and fossils; and lectures might be
given during the winter months on the contents of the
museum.'1
An aquarium, designed to show the life of the denizens
of the waters, naturally attracted Frank Buckland's special
interest, as an embodiment of his own pursuits. He
attended with Professor Owen and spoke at the opening of
the Crystal Palace Aquarium in January 1872. He
assisted the arrangements for the opening of the Brighton
Aquarium in the same year; and in after years he aided
the formation of other aquaria at Southport, Manchester,
Yarmouth, and Herne Bay. He was anxious, however,
that these exhibitions should not be merely places of amuse-
ment, but of study and scientific observation.
'The doctrine,' he said, 'that it has been my life-long
study to urge, is the application of natural history to practice,
and the increase of food for the public. Anemones, soldier
crabs, the sensational octopus, barnacles, serpulæ, and
other non-edible wretches, are all very interesting and in-
structive; but besides, I may say above these, I wish to
see several problems of vast national importance solved or
The arrangement of the museum is now considerably improved.
SCOTCH FISHERIES, AND CORRESPONDENCE
263
attempted to be solved. In the first place, it is most
desirable that some data as to the times and manner of
the spawning of turbot, soles, plaice, brill and other com-
mercial sea-fish, should be ascertained, in order that the
legislature may have definite data before them, whereon to
found laws as to close time for sea-fish, and the prohibition
of inshore trawling during the spring months. A turbot
of 8 lbs. carries 300,000 eggs; a sole of 1 lb. 130,000 eggs;
yet look at the price of turbot and soles; where and how
does this immense loss take place? The herring fisheries
are of vast importance, yet there is no law as to the
mesh of the net, so that young unsizable fish are sent to
market. The time of development of the various fish in
the egg, and the rate of growth in the fry, should be care-
fully noted. Everybody likes to eat whitebait. What are
whitebait? Those on the table often consist of the fry of
some six kinds of fish, with occasionally a good dash of
sticklebacks. Let us turn a pint of live whitebait
marine Pandora's box-into one of the tanks, and see what
will happen. We salmon preservers lose thousands of
our smolts, which have been hatched out under expensive
preservation of the spawning beds. When the little things
get into the estuary of the river, and find their way into
the sea, a large number of them disappear from some cause
or other.
What are those causes? Why is it physiolo-
gically necessary for a smolt to go to sea at all? We
know the external difference between a smolt and a grilse,
but I do not know anybody that has ever seen a young
salmon in the intermediate stage, i.e. half smolt, half
grilse. May we not, even further, having obtained the
requisite knowledge, some day be enabled to fatten our
a
264
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
grilse as they fatten early chickens for market? Again:
how long do the kelts require to transform themselves into
clean fish? A live kelt in a tank would be a grand study
for all interested in salmon, and perhaps he might tell us
some of his family secrets. The salmon fisheries of the
United Kingdom are worth a great many hundreds of
thousands a year; they are yet capable of vast improve-
ment. We know pretty well what these valuable fish do
in the rivers, but we want to know more of their habits
in the sea, and if possible extend our protection to them
when in the sea. Oyster and mussel culture has of late
been much advanced, but there is a point where our
knowledge is pulled up short. Prawns are at a very high
price, and where is the man who can tell us the details of
their breeding? The price of lobsters is also amazing.
Yet people eat lobster eggs at dinner parties by the
hundredweight every spring; and berried lobsters, with
the young plainly perceptible in the eggs, can often be
seen on the fishmongers' slabs, waiting their turn for the
boiling pot. This will not do; the matter must be looked
to; but what are we to do, if we have not knowledge of the
habits of the young lobsters? My friend Mr. Lee and
myself hatched out a pitful of young lobsters, and pretty
little fellows they were, at Reculvers; why not repeat the
experiment in an aquarium? The Scotch cod and haddock
fisheries want mussels for bait, and the poor people of
large cities are fond of mussels, yet our knowledge of the
breeding of mussels is of the roughest kind. There are
many other points which require attention. The Aquarium
Company at Sydenham have a great field open to them, if
they will convert their tanks, some of them at least, into
SCOTCH FISHERIES, AND CORRESPONDENCE
265
observatories for watching the habits of sea-fish of economic
and commercial value. Thus their exhibition will be not.
only ornamental but practically useful.'
Nor were his anticipations disappointed, when in the
following year, at the Brighton Aquarium, he observed,
with intense pleasure, the change in the growth of salmon
from smolt to grilse.
"There are occasions of supreme felicity; they don't
come often. But I confess to the immense delight that I
felt when I saw the salmon at the Brighton Aquarium.
In the spring of 1873, my friend the chairman of the
Usk Board sent some salmon smolts to the Aquarium.
They all died but one; and friends, fishermen, what
can you see
now ?
This smolt has become a grilse.
It is not a large grilse, not more then ten or twelve inches.
long, but a pure salmon grilse for all that. He shines
Like a bar of silver as he swims round his tank, sometimes
leisurely, sometimes with the rapidity of a hawk. He is
a wonderful and beautiful fish, the first smolt that ever
turned himself into a grilse under the ken of us air-breath-
ing mammalia. Naturalists can't live in the water, fish
can't live in the air; so we make water cages for our fish,
and we observe their wonderful transmutations from one
stage of adolescence to another; changes quite as wonderful
as the transformation of a dull-coloured, hairy vegetable-
eating caterpillar, creeping along the ground, into a
butterfly, which flies with ease in the air, on wings
thinner than silver paper, and ornamented with colours,
far more beautiful than anything that can be painted by
artists."
Notwithstanding the almost incessant labour of river
266
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
inspection, and the time engrossed by watching and
attending the proceedings of Parliamentary committees,
and of the legislature, on fishery questions, Frank
Buckland's other occupations would have seemed sufficient
to fill up a busy life.
Every week the natural history columns of 'Land and
Water' were edited, and multifarious questions answered;
and frequent articles appeared in that paper, or in the
daily press.
6
Tired out with the most interesting but everlasting
Salmon Bill, now before the committee of the House,'
he wrote in May 1872, 'I went the other afternoon to
the Royal Academy, as I thought I would try an experi-
ment, how far the painter's art could convey what he
really meant, without the interposition of a printed descrip-
tion; so I bought no catalogue, and thoroughly enjoyed
examining the pictures, especially as I am teaching
myself to paint my fish-casts and like to learn.'
And so
he proceeded to criticise from a naturalist's point of view,
in a most amusing strain, some of the principal animal
pictures of the year, winding up with, Now, my dear
readers, I must stop. I write. this from memory in the
train, going to Shrewsbury on official duty, and I am
nearing this fine old town. If I have offended any artists,
I hope they will forgive me; but they really should
observe nature; after all, what I have written is only in
fun, you know.'
(
The article was reprinted in the Times' from 'Land
and Water,' and caused much amusement.
Mr. G. A. Sala wrote 'most heartily and sincerely to
congratulate the writer on the very sensible and sug-
6
SCOTCH FISHERIES, AND CORRESPONDENCE 267
gestive notes on the zoology of the pictures in the Royal
Academy.' 'These fifteen years,' he added, 'I have been
the art critic of the "Daily Telegraph," and am even now
drudging at the canvases in Piccadilly; but I can assure
you that your professedly rough and ready critique has
been to me a very valuable lesson, and I hope it may be
one by which my colleagues in the ungentle art may
profit.'
'This,' Frank Buckland noted, is one of the greatest
compliments I ever received.'
In 1874, some similar notes on the Royal Academy
again appeared in 'Land and Water,' which are here
reprinted. The truth and force of Millais' painting
(Nos. 68, 75) did not escape his notice, nor did the pathos
of Mrs. Butler's Roll Call':—
(
'I have again visited the Royal Academy without a
catalogue, and without having read any critiques on the
pictures, as I wished to see how far the artists have
succeeded in representing scenes, which explain themselves.
A picture should not require a printed description to show
what is meant. Painting should be a language by itself.
'No. 20. A Heavy Sea breaking on and over rocks,
with cormorants sitting and flying. Why not make the
cormorants more distinct? The flying gulls not made
graceful enough. Can't tell of what species they are. There
are plenty of cormorants and gulls at the Zoological, which
would have done for models. Gulls or terns, when flying,
are most beautiful objects, especially when set off by a
black cloud behind them.
'
No. 24. The copper vessels are most beautifully
painted.
268
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
'No. 26. Fishermen have come ashore with fish. The
fish are bad.
Surely there are plenty of cod and haddock
recently caught to be seen on the fishmongers' slabs. Too
much red about the white underside of the skate.
scape very pretty; looks like the mouth of the Dovey.
Land-
'No. 43. A Young Lady with white hair asleep. She
looks very bad, and has evidently a great deal on her
mind, poor thing! A cold chicken on the table by her
side. She can't eat much of it, only a bit of the wing.
Claret in glass well painted; the lady has hardly
touched it. I suppose they could not get her a cup of
tea; ladies are always ready for a cup of tea. If I had
been the painter, I should have put a live mouse on the
table-cloth, or nibbling at the chicken; it would have
given a good idea of great silence and solitude. I feel
much for the poor young lady, who, I think, must be a
French girl. I wonder what may be the cause of her hair
turning white; it does not look like a natural whiteness.
'No. 50. Fox Cubs. Three heads peeping out of a
hollow tree, but I wonder what they are standing upon.
inside the tree. Foxes' faces, especially cubs, are more
difficult to paint than those of babies, the expressions of
both are so varied. I never yet saw a fox's head stuffed
properly, for the taxidermists generally put in round
pupils to the eyes, like the eyes of dogs, not slit-like
pupils like those in a cat's eye. Foxes being nocturnal
animals, have nocturnal eyes. A wren is on a bough
close to the fox cubs; one of the cubs should be looking
at the bird. The scene would have been better if the
cubs and vixen had been represented playing outside a
regular "earth."
SCOTCH FISHERIES, AND CORRESPONDENCE
269
Not a
No. 57. A Dog attacking a Hedgehog.
very plucky dog. His mouth is shut, and it ought to
have been open, and his lip should have been blood-
stained with the prickles of the hedgehog. He should
have been made barking. A dog can't bark with his
mouth shut.
'No. 67. Meant for a sleeping baby and mother.
The baby is not asleep, only pretending. The lady does
not look like its mother, or she would be looking at the
baby, and not away from it. She is probably the nurse.
'No. 68. Trees, probably in Scotland; magnificently
painted. The idea of a very hot day admirably given, as
some black pods are bursting with the heat. On hot days
these pods bursting make a very peculiar noise in woods.
This picture would have been perfect if a squirrel had
been made climbing, with his beautiful brush and know-
ing little face, up one of the trees, the scene being quite
in a squirrel country. It is not too late even now to put
in Master "Skug."
'No. 75. Birch Trees on Waggon. Bark and moss on
bark very good indeed. Don't quite see where the smoke
in the distance comes from. Is it smoke or mist? The
birch-wood is probably going to a fern mill, to be cut up
to make cotton reels, or possibly furniture for some London
firms. A girl and a dog are looking on in the distance.
No doubt the horses to draw the waggon are just coming
up.
'No. 97. People fishing in tidal waters with "Fixed
Engines." These are large dip-nets like immense minnow-
The scene is not in England or Wales, or I should
have known where it was. It looks like China to me.
nets.
270
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
The fishermen probably throw bait, such as dry cod roe,
over the net, and when the fish have assembled haul it
suddenly. This mode of fishing was formerly adopted in
Hampshire in catching atherines-called there "smelts,"
and a net like it was formerly used to catch salmon below
Trew's Wear at Exeter.
'No. 106. A Labourer's wife bringing his children to
him, when at work near a big mansion. I don't see that
the good woman has brought his dinner. A lady is
walking in the grounds of the mansion; she probably
wishes to change places with the labourer's wife. This
picture tells its own story.
'No. 109. Fish again dubious; no nets in the boat to
indicate what the men have been after.
'No. 129. Two very pretty young ladies putting rose-
leaves and lavender into china vases, to keep the moths
out of their sealskin jackets, which they have just put
away for the summer. China vases are magnificently
painted; also rose leaves and lavender. Pity the picture
can't be scented like rose-leaves and lavender.
'No. 130. Bold rock with moss; very true to life.
This looks like a scene in Cornwall. Don't see why the
young lady is gone to sleep. Somebody should win a
pair of gloves.
'No. 142. Foot Guards parading on a snowy day after
action; probably a Crimean scene. Anxiety on officer's
face well depicted. The horse looks as tired as the officer.
The boots of the men have that white appearance of boots
when worn in snow. Expressions of wounded soldiers
very true to life. A young soldier, who has not been
wounded, affords a great contrast to the man with the
SCOTCH FISHERIES, AND CORRESPONDENCE
271
scalp wound, and the one with the shot through his left
wrist, and the poor fellow that has just fallen-fainted, or
dead-on the ground. The feather in the Doctor's cocked
hat is seen in the rear. If I had been the Doctor on this
occasion, I should, probably, have been going round with
the commanding officer and the serjeant-major, to answer
any questions put to me relative to the wounded men,
but many of the men badly hit should have been in
hospital-not on parade. A very nice picture, true to
nature.
'No. 168. An old Monk carrying two rabbits in a
woodland park. A dog by his side. The dog seems
very long in the body—perhaps monkish dogs were long.
Don't see how the old man has caught the rabbits; he has
no gun, ferrets, or trap. Possibly they are tithe rabbits.
'No. 181. Red Deer coming round a corner. Very
pretty; the artist must have seen this and photographed
it in oil colours; he could not have imagined it.
'No. 186. Scotch Cattle. Prettily grouped, but their
coats are too clean. The satin glow upon the neck of
one cow very pretty. The cattle are looking too many
different ways; this has been done probably for effect.
On a hot day like this, there would have been lots of flies
about the cattle, whereas there are no flies in the picture.
'No. 192. Sir William Fergusson. An exceedingly
good and striking portrait. Our great surgeon is evi-
dently about to perform a resection of the left shoulder-
joint (see left scapula in preparation bottle). The scene
of the picture is ably made known to the spectator, by the
first few letters of the words "Operating Room" being
visible, and by the slate, with chalk and sponge, on which
272
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
Sir William has just made a diagram to show the students.
the relative situation of the structures, which must be
divided in the operation about to take place. The
attitude of this most eminent of European surgeons is
exceedingly natural; the likeness admirable. This is the
proper way to paint an eminent man, not put him in the
flowing robes of a Roman senator, like Sir Robert Peel in
Westminster Abbey.'
But the artists were too sensitive to relish even such
good-humoured home truths; and Frank Buckland would
not, willingly, wound any man's feelings; so, although the
editor of one of the leading journals urged him to repeat
the criticism, offering him his own terms, he refused; he
had got, he said, into such hot water with the artists, by
telling them the truth, that he dared not repeat the dose.
Another episode of kindliness to man and beast
occurred at the end of 1872.
'About Christmas time 1872, after several hours of hard
work, writing my official report at my office, No. 4 Old Palace
Yard, I found on turning out that the weather had become
bitterly cold, blowing half a gale of wind, with sleet.
Running along the not particularly well-lighted pavement,
I nearly stumbled against a man standing at the corner of
the street by St. Margaret's church; luckily the glitter of
metal on his cap caught my eye, and looking at this I saw
that it was a brass plate with the word "Blind" engraved
on it. The poor man was tapping his stick against the
kerb-stone, apparently wanting to cross over the street, so
I waited quietly to see what would happen. He had with
him a little dog tied to a string; the dog was in the road-
way pulling at the string, while his master kept tapping
SCOTCH FISHERIES, AND CORRESPONDENCE
273
the edge of the pavement, and evidently intently listening
for the sound of wheels. At last the man said "Go!" In
an instant the little dog ran across the street, pulling
with open mouth and extended tongue at the string, like
a greyhound in slips. I was pleased to see that the pair of
them arrived quite safe at the other side. I at once
entered into conversation with the blind man, and, wishing
to obtain his history, I told him to call the next evening
at my office, as he went to his usual stand.’
And so the story of the blind man, and of Puss the
blind man's dog, was told, extending the sympathy Frank
Buckland felt for them so widely, that within a few weeks
subscriptions for more than forty pounds were received for
Puss and her master, which placed them both in comfort
instead of privation. The subscribers represented kind-
hearted people of all classes, from noblemen and nob.e
ladies, who sent their sovereigns, to servants, who sent
their sixpences, and schoolchildren, who sent their single
penny queen's heads.'
T
274
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
CHAPTER XII.
THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS AND SEAL FISHERIES: 1873-1874.
YEAR after year Frank Buckland continued to watch over
the improvement of the English and Welsh rivers, advised
on or designed the fish-passes required, and in his annual
reports traced the general though varying progress of the
salmon fisheries, and recommended such additional legisla-
tion as growing experience suggested.
Frank Buckland was no mere enthusiast; that his
unresting energy was balanced by sound practical judg-
ment, is shown by the statement, in his report of 1871,
of the principles of action which had gained success in his
official duties.
'The element of fighting is not, in the present days of
enlightenment, at all called for; an injudicious zeal in the
cause entrusted to an individual by the public, may often
damage that cause more than promote it. Salmon do not
form the sole food of the people; bread comes before salmon.
Water power is much utilised, especially in parts of the
country where there are no coal mines, for the purpose of
grinding corn into flour: it is also, in the case of manufac-
tories other than corn mills, the source of great riches and
employment to many poor people. There is no reason
whatever why both mills, manufactories, and salmon
THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS AND SEAL FISHERIES 275
should not co-exist and flourish, provided there exists,
what is called in common parlance, an element of give and
take: i.e. when the wheel, the motive power of the
machinery, does not require the water, let the salmon
have it; and it should be the duty of the Conservators and
Inspectors to see that the water is properly economised
for their fish. I feel convinced that persuasion is better
than force, and that private interviews and subsequent
communications will often succeed in obtaining for the
salmon, what no Act of Parliament, in the absence of the
Local Executive, could obtain.
'What the public require of me, as a Government officer,
is to use my best endeavours to increase the supply of
salmon. Long experience has shown me how best to do
this in individual cases. Those not actually engaged in the
work can know nothing of the details required. Though
my writings may sometimes seem opposed to the salmon
cause, yet I can assert that what I say and do in this im-
portant matter, is founded upon anxious thought, and
views of all sides of the question. Facts are the great
things to be desired, and these can only be obtained by
accurate observation out of doors, and by the dissecting-
knife and the microscope indoors. The science, for it
ought to be elevated to a science, of salmon culture is yet
in its infancy. I make it my daily business, to endeavour
to deduce from the facts that come before me the general
laws of nature, which are higher than the laws of man.'
·
(
'It may possibly be remarked,' he wrote again, that
in these reports I have entered too much into detail; but
salmon cultivation consists of details, and there is hardly
any particular or object, however slight and apparently
T 2
276
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
unimportant, that is unworthy of attention of those who
wish to increase the number of salmon in the waters which
are confided to their care.'
A Parliamentary Committee sat in 1872, which led to
a salmon-fishery Amendment Act in 1873, carrying out to
a great extent the recommendations which had been sug-
gested and discussed in the Inspectors' reports.
Frank Buckland recognised from the first, that the
variety of nature could not be strained into uniformity by
human law.
The habits of salmon, their breeding time, and periods of
migration differed in different rivers, and the legislators
of 1861 hoped, but in vain, to induce them to conform to
the uniform close time defined by that statute. The idea
that preservation could convert a late into an early river
was disproved, and the Legislature now wisely fitted the
law to the habits of the salmon; for the simple reason
that salmon refused to take cognisance of the edicts of the
law.'
6
Power, therefore, was given by the Act of 1873 to
adjust the dates of the close time, and the mode of netting,
to the habits of the fish in particular rivers, and to make
focal bye-laws according to differing circumstances. The
inquiries, which preceded the exercise of this power, gave
full employment to the habits of observation, the experi-
ence, and the tact possessed by Frank Buckland and his
colleague. The doctrine, which Frank Buckland had
constantly practised, and had striven by personal exertion
and influence to enforce that the passage of fish might
generally be secured without injury to the millers—was
now, to his rejoicing, admitted by the Committee of
THIE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS AND SEAL FISHERIES 277
the House of Commons, and adopted as the basis of
legislation.
6
In a letter to the Times' he summarised the effect of
the new Act and the progress of fish culture.
'After long experience I am convinced that artificial
culture of migrating Salmonide can never compete with
natural cultivation. This consists not in hatching out
a few hundred thousand salmon eggs in boxes, but in
opening up for the parent fish as many miles of spawning
ground as possible. The salmon know their own business
much better than we do. During the last few years, fish
culture on a large scale has been gradually and carefully
carried out in England and Wales. At one time it was
thought that the same form of fish-pass could be adapted
to all obstructions to fish: we now know that every weir
requires a different form of pass.
Since the Salmon Act of 1861 was passed, we have
discovered that the salmon will not obey the laws which
the Legislature enacted; and it has now been found neces-
sary to call the salmon into consultation, and adapt legisla-
tion to the habits and instincts of these clever, mysterious,
but most valuable creatures. Salmon will not ascend rivers
according to Act of Parliament, but will come up just when
it pleases them so to do. During the past twelve years,
it has been illegal to catch salmon with the net after
August, and with the rod after October. The new law
takes cognisance of the habits of the fish; and for the future
it will be lawful, with the sanction of the Home Office, for
the net fishermen in late rivers to catch salmon during
certain days in September, and the rods will be allowed to
fish during certain days in November. By these means I
278
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
trust many tons of salmon will be sent into the markets,
while extra sport will be afforded to anglers. By means
of bye-laws, it will henceforth be possible to increase the
weekly close time, so as to give the upper proprietors a
better share of the fish. To allow the use of a net to
catch the sea-trout, that have hitherto escaped through the
legal salmon-mesh two inches from knot to knot; to give
a play-ground or resting place for the fish, at the mouths.
of rivers; to preserve kelts that have spawned, and fish
that are about to spawn, from fatal wounds from the gaff
of the poacher; to preserve down fish and fry from being
smashed to pieces by mill-wheels; to regulate the fishing
for fish other than salmon during the annual and weekly
close time: these form the subjects of bye-laws. But
besides, water bailiffs have increased powers to preserve fish
from poachers. Eel stages are to be removed from January
to June; and, above all, the law now enacts that the sluices
in front of mill-wheels are to be kept shut on Sundays,
and at all times when the water is not required for milling
purposes. The consequence of this will be, that on
Sundays, throughout the length and breadth of the land,
the water, which for six days has been diverted from the
river to turn the wheel, will by law be sent over the
weir; so that the ascending fish will have an extra chance
of getting up, while the descending fish will be enabled
to get down to the sea, earlier in the spring than they did
before.
'This is what I call real fish culture, carried on over many
hundred miles of river and mountain-brooks in our own
country. By careful observation we find out what nature's
laws are and endeavour to obey them; and, if it were not for
THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS AND SEAL FISHERIES 279
the polluted state of many of our rivers, our salmon pro-
duce would almost double in a very few years. Artificial
breeding is nevertheless most valuable; first, to increase
river or lake trout; secondly, to import or export eggs.
I have, since Christmas, received and distributed about
150,000 eggs of great lake-trout from Neufchatel and
salmon from the Upper Rhine. I understand the Duke
of Sutherland has wisely laid down nearly a million
salmon eggs, to change the breed of salmon in the various
Sutherlandshire rivers. Lord Exeter has now hatching
out American brook-trout and white-fish and American
sea-trout, Salmo amethystus, sent over by Sir Edward
Thornton. Colonel Goodlake has, at his fishery at Denham,
near Uxbridge, a very fine stock of American brook-trout,
a very handsome sporting fish, which bids fair to be natural-
ised in this country; while the golden tench of Central
Europe has already been made almost a common fish by
Mr. Higford Burr, of Aldermaston Park, Reading.'
The Act of 1873 also forbade killing the fry of eels,
which swarmed up the Severn and Wye in April and May,
and had been caught by millions; but the magistrates
hesitated to enforce the law, when the question was raised
whether elvers, as they were locally called, were really young
eels. Frank Buckland went to Gloucester to prove their
identity. He produced specimens of the eel in the various
stages of its development; pointed out the peculiar forma-
tion of the eel's head, the lower jaw fitting over the upper
like a close-fitting box; the eye exactly over the junction of
the upper and lower jaws; the teeth set upon the roof of
the upper jaw, and upon the edge of the lower jaw; the
fin, beginning about the centre of the body, and then ex-
280
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
panding into a beautiful fringe again enlarged at the tail.
The eel also is a fish which very often goes from place to
place out of water, and nature has provided in a marvellous
manner for its living out of water; the gills or breathing
organs are covered up by a delicate curtain, which acts as
a valve and as a reservoir for water, thus enabling the fish
to take in a gill full of water, so to speak, and to keep his
gills moist during the time he is out of water, preventing
the gills from sticking together and stifling him. An ex-
traordinary fact is that an eel has a heart in his tail,
which, when the eel is dying, pulsates at the rate of 95
to the minute. This little heart was said to exist in
no other fish; but this, and each other particular named
he proved, with the microscope's aid, to exist alike in
the elver as in the eel, and their identity was conclusively
established.
{
little
In June 1873 he turned out into the Thames a large
number of young salmon hatched at South Kensington.
Although I was very sorry to have to turn out my
fish babies that I have so long regarded with affection and
interest, watching them from the egg ripen into fishhood,
yet it was absolutely necessary, as, in spite of the number
I have sent away, my hatching troughs were getting so full
of fry, and the temperature of the water was going up so
fast, that they began to die. Moreover, I could not pos-
sibly afford to keep so many fish at my museum, for it
must be known that these little fellows are very greedy and
expensive to feed. I feed them with red worms collected
from the Thames mud. These worms cost 4s. 6d. a quart;
the price of Thames worms, like everything else, has
increased considerably. I have therefore made three excur-
THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS AND SEAL FISHERIES 281
sions to turn out my young fish into the Thames at Staines,
Windsor, and Shepperton. These little fry have not the same.
amount of intelligence as fry found in a wild state. When
first turned out, they seemed stupid, and gaped about as
though they did not know what to do; nor indeed did
they go far away from the place, whereas a wild fry would
have bolted in a moment. I hope these little things will
soon learn to feed themselves, though it is possible that
some time may elapse, before they find out that they are no
longer in a glass nursery with Mr. Edon to give them their
breakfast, dinner, and supper regularly; nevertheless, they
are all out now, and must take their chance. I have done all
that parental care can suggest for their welfare. I am well
aware that there are persons who will say, that “ Buckland
has only been putting out his fry to feed the jack and perch.”
Very likely a large proportion of them will be eaten by the
jack and perch, but surely some of them will escape;
besides which, it must be recollected that these are learned
fish, and have been reared in the Science and Art Depart-
ment in South Kensington. They ought therefore to have
more science and art in their little brains, than the vulgar
little common fish hatched in a gutter and not in a
beautiful slate trough.'
Each event at the Zoological Gardens was watched
with interest. The strange arrivals there were promptly
announced. 'The Zoological Society,' Frank Buckland was
wont to say, 'may boast of an illustrious pedigree of more
than six centuries.' The first collection of wild animals
was made in the Tower of London, and consisted of three
leopards, sent to Henry III. by the Emperor Frederick II.,
'in token of his regal shield of arms, wherein those
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
leopards were pictured.' Six centuries ago, in A.D. 1255,
the sheriffs of London built a house for 'the king's ele-
phant, the first seen in England.' James I. was fond of
baiting lions and bears in the Lion Tower; and animals
more or less in number were kept in the Tower of London,
till they were transferred to the Society's Gardens in
Regent's Park in 1834.
Special interest attached to the birth of Guy Fawkes,
the young hippopotamus; and no nurse could be prouder
of child, than Frank Buckland of the thriving growth of
this prodigious bantling.
He
'Wednesday last, November 5, 1873, being the first
birthday of little Guy Fawkes, the young hippopotamus,
I have called at the Zoological Gardens to wish the pretty
little fellow "Many happy returns of the day." I chanced
to call at his breakfast-time, and was fortunate enough to
witness the operation. The water in the bath was as
clear as crystal, and I was able to observe everything that
went on. The mother laid herself down on her side,
turning over like a huge bacon-pig asleep. The young
one stood on all fours on the bottom of the tank.
stayed under water from half a minute to a minute and
three quarters; he then came to the surface, took a deep
inspiration, and sank again as quietly as a frog. It was
very interesting to see, with what little splash or noise
these gigantic creatures can lift their heads to the surface
of the water. After he had finished his breakfast, the
keeper enticed Guy Fawkes and his mother out of the
water. The little one is as tame, playful and docile as a
kitten. We made him out to be about 6 feet 4 inches
long, and 2 feet 10 inches high at the shoulders. His
THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS AND SEAL FISHERIES 283
back is a slaty black colour; but his cheeks, chest, and
legs are of a lovely pink salmon colour. We calculated
his weight to be nearly 1 ton; and his mother would make
and weigh about three little hippos. He eats and sleeps
well, and, besides his natural nourishment, his meals con-
sist of chaff, bran, mangold-wurzel, scalded oats, biscuit,
and sugar. He is very fond of anything sweet. He has
already learned to beg for food; he puts his head out
between the bars, opens his mouth, and pricks up his
little ears when he wants to beg. The gape of his mouth
is about 18 inches; he has already a most lovely set of
white teeth, and the tusks begin to project out of his pink
gums. His mother is very watchful over him; and if she
thinks anyone is about to disturb her child, hisses loudly,
like a big snake. Every morning, when it is moist and
wet, he and his mother are let out into the bath outside;
when it is dry and frosty they are kept in the house, as
the frost would crackle and parch their delicate skins.
When in his morning bath, he is very playful and plunges
about like a porpoise. The pair of hippos sleep on the
straw all night, but they spend a great portion of the day
in their bath in the house, in a sort of semi-sleep. They
float up to breathe apparently without an effort, like corks
rising to the surface; when under water they keep their
eyes wide open, after the manner of crocodiles. When the
mouth of the young one is wide open, it will be seen that
the tongue is arched directly upwards, so as to form a
compact valve, which prevents the water going down the
gullet. The old father, in the next den, talks to his wife
and child by means of sonorous gruntings, and they
answer him. The father's face is much longer and sharper
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
than that of his wife, and his eyes and nose are much
more prominent. I have forgotten to mention that Guy
Fawkes turns out to be a young lady hippo; she is more
delicately featured than her father, and is very like her
mother in face."
Many were Frank Buckland's stories of the Zoological
Gardens. One was how Obash, the first hippopotamus, once
got loose. It was early in the morning, before the Gardens.
were opened, when a keeper rushed into Mr. Bartlett's
house, exclaiming 'Obash is out!' and, sure enough,
there came Obash down the long walk, his huge mouth.
curled into a ghastly smile, as if he meant mischief. The
cunning brute had contrived to push back the door of his
den, while his keeper had gone for the carpenter to mend
some defect in it. Having warned every one to keep out
of the way, Mr. Bartlett called his keeper, who tried to
coax the hippopotamus back with sweet hay. The brute
munched the hay, but showed no sign of going back.
What was to be done? Mr. Bartlett is a man of unfailing
resource. There was one keeper Obash hated, and ran at
him whenever he came in sight. Scott,' said Mr. Bartlett,
putting a bank note in his hand, 'throw open the paddock
Obash at the end of the
gate, and then show yourself to
path, and run for it.' The man looked at the note, and
then through the trees at the beast, and, going into the
middle of the path, shouted defiantly 'Obash.' Ugh!
roared the beast, viciously, and wheeling his huge carcase
suddenly round, rushed with surprising swiftness after the
keeper. Scott ran for his life, with the hippopotamus
roaring at his heels, into the paddock and over the palings,
Obash close to his coat-tails; bang slammed the gate,
THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS AND SEAL FISHERIES 285
and the monster was caged again. Just then, up drove a
cab with a newspaper reporter. I hear,' he said, 'the
hippopotamus is loose!' 'Oh dear no,' innocently replied
Mr. Bartlett, he is safe in his den; come and see.'
The winter of 1874 was a severe trial to the animals of
the Zoological Gardens. Frank Buckland visited them in
the coldest weather, and attracted public interest in their
condition by a letter to the 'Daily News.'
'During the past severe frost, many of our readers,
when assembled round the Christmas hearth, have doubtless
remembered the poor animals in the Zoological Gardens.
At the very height of the frost, we paid a visit to the
Gardens. They presented, indeed, a most forlorn aspect,
contrasting greatly with their brilliant appearance on a
summer's afternoon. Everything seemed frozen up, and
many of the houses were defended from the frost by
various contrivances, and the inmates themselves were
seldom visible. The Polar bears, the beavers, and seals,
alone seemed to enjoy the cold weather. The smaller
Polar bear is a female. She has bred twice-two cubs at
a time. When born, each is about the size of a large rat.
The cubs were put to a foster-mother, but the little
wretches were so disagreeable that the canine mother
would not attend to them. The seals seemed perfectly
happy, and to enjoy the frost and snow much more than
they do the summer weather. Out of the four Bladder-
nosed seals, that were presented to the Society by Captain
Gray, only one remains alive, and he is the big male.
When he first arrived he was fed on eels, but now he eats
sprats, whiting, and haddocks, and, with the other seals, is
a very expensive pet. Old Le Compte, the seal-man,
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
informed us,
Que les seals ont bien passé leur Christmas
avec une double ration de poissons." Le Compte has kept
the ice in the big round pond broken, and the seals
(especially the two sea-bears) have advanced considerably
in their education, particularly in the art of catching fish
in their mouths, when thrown from a distance; the big one
will "field" the fish with a dexterity to be envied by
cricketers. It will be observed that the smaller sea-bear
shows his flipper as he swims in the water, so that he might
be easily mistaken for a porpoise; the other sea-bear does
not show his flipper at all.
'The beavers are quite at home in the cold and snow.
Three holes were opened for them in the ice, and were
kept open by the beavers themselves continually passing
through. This is probably their habit in far distant
Canada and North America. It was very interesting to
see the beavers collect the snow, which they do by pushing
a heap up together; they then collect it between their
fore paws and chin, and half push half carry it along.
One cunning rascal made a snow hill at one corner of the
enclosure, a clever bit of engineering, by means of which
he evidently intended to have escaped, by going to the top
of the snow hill, and then dropping down the other side.
Another of these beavers was evidently not quite satisfied
with his present home, and had set to work to improve it.
This fellow collected a quantity of snow, and piled it up
as a kind of extra thatching on his "hut," as it may be
really called, in the middle of the pond. The inside of
this "hut" is said to be tunnelled in a most remarkable
manner. There is a story extant, not only in schoolrooms
but even much higher, probably originated by Peter Parley,
THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS AND SEAL FISHERIES 287
that beavers use their tails as trowels, to flatten down the
mud, which forms the roofs and sides of their huts. They
never do anything of the kind; they use their tails for
sitting on their haunches, and for steering themselves in
the water. They also have the power of slapping the
water with a loud noise; this is done as a signal when in
danger.
'During a very hard frost some four years ago, the
rhinoceros fell through the ice which covered the pond
of his enclosure: he was then very nearly drowned, but
was cleverly hauled out from his perilous position by means
of ropes.
This year, the moment the frost was gone, the
ice was removed, and the rhinoceros let out to have a bath.
The old thing would not take the usual plunge, but, just
putting her toes into the water, instantly drew back, the
water evidently being much too cold. The elephants and
the other large animals in the new elephant house, and
the giraffes and elands also, have preserved good health
during the severe cold: the houses are kept at an agreeable
temperature by means of hot-water pipes. The mother
hippopotamus and Guy Fawkes, the young one, who has
grown amazingly, are also quite well. The water in which
they bathe inside the house is always kept warm at as near
55 deg. as possible, and they seem thoroughly to enjoy
their perpetual warm bath. The ant-eater retired under
a mountain of straw, only turning out at dinner time.
In the ant-eater's house is a large tank nearly full of
alligators, crocodiles, turtles, etc., which make a great
splashing when disturbed. The structure of the lungs of
these creatures enables them to remain days-nay even
weeks, sometimes months-under water without breathing.
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
About a week ago a very fine crocodile arrived, some four
feet long: he was nearly stiff with cold, but being put
before the fire he gradually thawed, and was placed in the
tank, where he has become quite lively in his hot bath.
'The snakes and reptiles are reported "all well." The
temperature in the cages is kept up to about 90°, and the
snakes are covered carefully with thick blankets. The
only effect that the cold has is to take away their appetite.
Many snakes will not feed during the severe weather,
even although provided with the greatest luxuries of the
season, viz., little hairless blind rats. A good many rats
are bred on purpose to supply the snakes with this much-
coveted delicacy. The value of a full-grown fat rat is
twopence; they are most useful for food for the hawks,
eagles, &c. The score is kept by the tails being taken
to the office.
'The latest arrival at the Gardens is an immense toad,
called the giant toad, from the Brazils, the largest known
toad. This fine fellow measures seven inches in length,
and is broader than he is long; he eats white mice and
common frogs, and has great glands on his head from
which he can eject a kind of poison.
'During the frost a covering was put on the front of
the dens of the lions and tigers, and none have suffered.
Each lion's allowance is eight pounds of horse-flesh per
day. A few days ago Mr. Bartlett performed an opera-
tion upon a female tiger. Her claws had grown so much
that they had penetrated the pads of her foot. Mr.
Bartlett lassoed her by the neck, afterwards by means of
straps pulled her feet out between the bars, and with sharp
nippers nipped off the points of the claws. When the
THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS AND SEAL FISHERIES 289
tigress found what was being done gave her no pain, she
showed little or no resistance.
'There are now one hundred and two animals in the
monkey house, all well. There are just now some very
remarkable monkeys. One is a Macaque, a perfect albino;
his hair is as white as the beard of an old man, his pink
eyes like a rabbit's, and his hands and nose are like blanc-
mange. There is also a very remarkable monkey called
"Patas," or Hussar Monkey. He looks like a greyhound,
and is of the colour of a fox; the keeper calls him therefore
"Sandy." Another is the Wanderoo, a fellow with a
great mass of hair round his face and the most awful teeth
ever seen in a monkey's mouth. This monkey has been
credited with having killed two niggers before he was
caught; he comes from Malabar. Other monkeys worth
notice are a new marmozet with red ears, not yet named,
and a Japanese ape; also a very wonderful monkey from
South America, with a face like a sloth, and three very
beautiful spider monkeys. The way in which these
monkeys swing and cling by means of their prehensile tails
is very interesting. The monkeys' food consists of bread
and milk, boiled rice, apples, carrots, potatoes, &c. The
temperature of the house is kept at about 60 or 65 deg.
Poor Joe, the chimpanzee, has been made into a skeleton
long ago; he died, like most of our London monkeys, of
tubercles.
'As regards the birds, it is interesting to know
which are most hardy. The beautiful Crossoptilon from
Northern China, the pheasant who wears lovely whiskers
each side of his eyes, does not mind the cold at all, coming
from a naturally cold climate. This bird is very tame,
U
290
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
and promised some time ago to become a domestic bird;
but having bred to the third generation they generally
die off; perhaps the reason of this is, that in their native
home they migrate and change food at different times of
the year. Lady Amherst's pheasants are also hardy; they
come from Northern China. This bird crosses freely with
the gold pheasant, producing a bird of amazing beauty;
and, unlike hybrids or mules, the offspring are as fertile
as their parents. By this beautiful cross, therefore, a
new race of the most beautiful pheasants in the world has
been produced. Another very beautiful and interesting
bird, in excellent health, is Stanley's jungle fowl; its
home is Ceylon; these birds are worth 50l. per pair. A
collector, who did not know their value, procured seven of
them alive at Trincomalee, and had them cooked for dinner
rather an expensive feed, three and a half pairs of
fowls of the value of 175l. One would have supposed that
this bird coming from Ceylon would require heat, but they
belong to the mountains, which are cold and damp. There
are only three species of white storks known-the Euro-
pean, the Japanese, and the South American. These
are all represented in the Gardens. The Japanese stork
is still white, the other two have got dirty with the London
smoke. The Crown Pigeon, of New Guinea, a bird nearly
as large as a turkey, with a beautiful crest on his head,
thrives in this country, and is a grand bird for the aviary,
or the lawn in front of the drawing-room. Another bird
that should be acclimatised is the bronze-winged pigeon of
Australia. The wings of these pigeons are more brilliant
than the mother-of-pearl on a lady's fan. They require
little more care than the common pigeon.
In the large
THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS AND SEAL FISHERIES 291
aviary are a considerable number of guans and curassows
These birds would make excellent farmyard birds as
a superior kind of turkey, but unfortunately they will
not lay eggs. Another peculiarity is that they lose their
toes in the winter; if the frost at all touches the toes they
drop off. A bird can be seen in this condition in the curas-
sows' cage. The extraordinary and beautiful aquatic bird,
the darter, from South America, is in good health, but he
is moulting. The visitor should remark the clever way
in which he transfixes a fish with his beak before he
swallows it.
'The only deaths that can be attributed to the frost
are a curassow, an armadillo, a natter jack toad, and a
chameleon. These deaths are not to be wondered at con-
sidering the hot climates these animals come from. That
so few losses have occurred is certainly attributable to the
exceeding care, practical experience, and constant super-
vision of Mr. Bartlett; careful regulation of temperature,
and an increased supply of food for every animal in the
Gardens, are found to be the best means to ward off sick-
ness in cold weather.'
In 1873 Frank Buckland published, through the
Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, a History of
British Fishes, an enlarged edition of which was the
latest labour of his life.
Numerous lectures were delivered in these years at the
Society of Arts, at his museum in London, and at many
country places; by which he endeavoured to spread more
widely the knowledge of and interest in fish and oyster
culture, and the love of natural history.
His museum he constantly added to, at great personal
U 2
292
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
labour, casting fish and painting the casts; and he loved to
show the fruit of these labours to those who would share
his interest in them, and his keen eye brightened with
delight as he explained and told stories of the different
objects he had collected. Sir Bartle Frere, Sir Philip
Egerton, the Dukes of Argyll, Sutherland, Wellington,
and St. Albans are noted as amongst his visitors; the
Marquis of Bute also, whom he aided to restock the Isle
of Bute with beavers, the Archbishop of York, and the
Bishop of Limerick, the Maharajah Duleep Singh and
many others; with no less pleasure he records, on Easter
Monday 1873, Thousands of people in the Museum; a
great and decided success, thank Goodness.'
6
Legends of huge sea monsters, clasping boats or even
ships in their writhing arms, had long been current, but
were little credited by naturalists. Such stories in a
modified form became multiplied as the wonders of the
sea were more constantly observed. In December 1873,
Frank Buckland received through the Colonial Office
official papers and photographs describing parts of a
monster cuttle-fish caught off Newfoundland. Its dimen-
sions were soon rendered palpable to popular view. The
shape and length of the body and tentacles were cut out in
boards and hung in his museum, showing a sea monster
with arms thirty-five feet in length.
Besides literary and museum work, he gave evidence
before the Parliamentary Committee on river pollutions,
whose report led to an important statute passed in 1876;
and he repeatedly visited Windsor to examine the drainage
works there, at the same time watching over the results of
fish-culture carried on in Windsor Park, and receiving
THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS AND SEAL FISHERIES 293
from Prince Christian instructions to survey and report on
all the lakes and ponds in the park.
On July 22, 1874, at the Jubilee Anniversary of the
Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, he 'went
on the platform and made a speech about cruelty to seals.
Much applauded. Deo gratia.'
The cause of the seals, which for several years he
earnestly and successfully advocated, was thus stated in a
letter to the Times,' in March 1875-
(C
C
Captain David Gray, of the sealing and whaling ship
Eclipse," and myself first brought forward, some three
years ago, the necessity for a close time for Arctic seals.
The principal sealing-ground is at Jan Mayan Island, 1,300
miles due north from London. Seals resort to this island
and thereabouts to breed. There are four species in-
habiting the Greenland seas, viz. the harp or saddle-back,
the bladder-nosed or hooded seal, the bearded seal, and the
floe rat. These seals are none of them fur seals, but yield
oil worth 50l. per ton. Seal and whale oils are the only
oils which will dress jute properly. Jute is a vegetable
fibre grown in India and largely used in British manufac-
tures. The annual value of the seal oil from the above
fishings is about 250,000l. This great commercial interest
is now in jeopardy, inasmuch as, unless there is some
speedy legislation, the seals will be utterly destroyed. A
fleet of ships is engaged every spring in this work of
destruction. Twenty steamers and a few sailing vessels go
from this country, especially from Peterhead and Dundee,
twenty-seven are Norwegians, of which twelve are steamers,
five steamers sail from Germany, two from Sweden, and
one Dutchman; in all sixty sail. The ships arrive at the
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
ice from the 15th to the 20th March, just as the young
seals are born. The seal hunters at once attack them, and
most horrible cruelty ensues. I quote Captain Gray's own
words to me. "Last year the fleet set to work to kill the
seals on March 26, 1874, and in forty-eight hours the
fishing was completely over, the old seals being shot,
wounded, or scared away, while thousands upon thousands
of young ones were left crying piteously for their mothers.
These mostly perished of famine in the snow, as they were
not old enough to make worth while the trouble of killing
them. If you could imagine yourself surrounded by four
or five hundred thousand babies, all crying at the pitch of
their voices, you would have some idea of the piteous
noise they make. Their cry is very like that of a human
infant. These motherless seals collect into lots of five or
six, and crawl about the ice, their heads fast becoming the
biggest part of their bodies, searching no doubt to find
the nourishment they stand so much in need of. These
little seals are called cats, they increase in size exceedingly
fast, and if left to grow for a few days, the oil would be of
value, while their skins, used for patent leather, and boots
of the best quality, would be valuable."
In 1876 an international close time was established,
prohibiting the killing of seals in these seas until after
April 3.
This arrangement, which became effective in 1877, has
increased the value of the fishery by allowing the young
seals to grow to a value four or five times greater than
as they were before recklessly slaughtered, and has nearly
put a stop to the destruction of the mother seals. It
THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS AND SEAL FISHERIES 295
affords no protection, however, to the bladder-nosed seais,
which breed in June; nor does it prevent the entire
young brood of the year being killed; some further
protection is therefore needed.
'I am quite certain,' writes Captain Gray, 'that I
could not have got the close time for seals established
without the aid of Frank Buckland.' 'I first knew Mr.
Buckland,' he adds, 'personally in 1870; he came to
Peterhead about salmon-fishing, and he was the man I
wanted most to know in the world. We took to each
other at once, and continued great friends until his
death.'
The annual slaughter of seals is prodigious. About
80,000 saddle-backed seals, and a like number of hooded
seals, are killed every season in the Greenland fishery,
while the Newfoundland fishery destroys an equal number.
Some reasonable restrictions are necessary, or the race
must become extinct.
The fur seals, which provide the seal-skin cloaks, are a
distinct species from those above mentioned. The fur-
seal fishery is confined to the Aleutian Islands, on the
north-west coast of America, part of the Territory of
Alaska acquired by the United States from Russia
in 1867.
This fishery is let by the United States, under careful
regulations for the preservation of the race of fur seals.
The young males only are killed, at the age of three or
four years, when their skins are most valuable, and the
number annually taken is limited to 100,000, a number
which, large as it is, does not diminish the fishery.
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
Other nations may well take example from this wise
care.1
One principle pervaded Frank Buckland's writings—
to show, as his father had done, the evidence of design and
skill in all created things. Of this the following paper, on
the evidence of design in the structure of the fish, crocodile,
armadillo, tortoise and hedgehog, is an example. It
appeared in ‘Land and Water' in July 1874:-
:
'It is very interesting to observe the wonderful way in
which the Creator has clothed and ornamented his various
creatures. Some live in the water, some on land, some
pass their time partly in the water or on land, some exist
partly in the air, on the water, and on the land. All are
beautifully and wonderfully constructed. I propose now
to make a few remarks on the external coverings of some
of these; taking as a beginning the various modifications
of horny coverings.
In the scales of the fish (the carp is about the best ex-
ample) we find plates of thin horn, somewhat resembling,
when cleaned and boiled, a portion of an ordinary horn
lantern. These plates are set each in a soft pocket of the
true skin, and overlap each other so as to form a complete
suit of armour, giving origin, no doubt, to the idea of scale-
armour, as worn by our ancestors at the time when arrows
were used in battle. The scales in the fish are not all of
the same size; they are beautifully fitted, like enamel plates,
on to the body, so that while they afford the most efficacious.
In the Fishery Exhibition of 1883 an admirable series of specimens
of the fur seal was shown by the Alaska Company, the lessees of the
fishery, together with drawings and descriptions of the method of carry-
ing on the fishery. An excellent article on the fur-seal fishery also
appeared in the Quarterly Review for October 1883.
THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS AND SEAL FISHERIES 297
protection, they will not interfere in the least with the
movements of the fish, which in many instances are
exceedingly rapid.
<
Passing on from the fish to the crocodile, we again
find a scale-formed armour. The scales in this case are
let into the skin in a different manner to those of the fish,
and they are capable of absorbing a considerable amount
of water. This I found out by soaking a crocodile's skin
in water. Before the skin was soaked, it was as hard and
inflexible as a board. Having been soaked a few hours, it
became almost as pliable and soft as a wet towel. This is
evidently an arrangement to enable the crocodile to pass
his time with comfort, both in the water and out of the
water. A crocodile also has lungs, not gills, and we
never find true scales, like those of a fish, unaccompanied
by gills. When the crocodile is basking in the sun,
his scales are much harder than when they are in the
water.
'If we look for scales in land animals, we shall find
them, more especially in the pangolin, the armadillo, and
the tortoise. The pangolin's scales are very like, but yet
differ from, fish scales proper, inasmuch as they are not
intended to be wetted. In the armadillo we find a series
of scales of peculiar shape, not let into pockets as in the
fish, but each connected with its neighbour by soft skin,
so that the armadillo's skin may be said to be a series of
oblong-headed nails (such as are used to tack on furniture
fringes), fastened into a covering, which forms the skin of
the animal. The armadillo has to roll himself into a ball
as occasion requires, therefore the studs of his armour are
so beautifully fitted as to size and shape, that he can roll
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
them up into a ball without the slightest appearance of a
crease or wrinkle.
'In the case of the armadillo, who lives under a covering
of horny flexible skin, please to observe that his backbone,
and all other bones, as well as his lungs, heart, and other
viscera, are all underneath this flexible roof to his body.
In the tortoise we find quite another arrangement. Take
a tortoise-shell and boil it, and you will find that you can
pick off the scales one by one, and underneath the scales
is a tenter-house of solid-formed bone. This dome-shaped
house is not composed of a continuous mass of bone, as a
tea-cup is made of a continuous plate of pottery, but
rather of a series of small bones, all properly arched to
suit the original curve, and jointed together in a most
marvellous manner. It was not possible to rivet or bolt
these plates together. Mortar could not be used to bind
them together, as in the case of an arch made of bricks.
What then must be done? If the reader will examine
for himself, he will find that the edges of each bone are
deeply serrated, and that the serrations fit in such a work-
manlike manner one into the other, that an amount of
solidity is gained which could not have been equalled if the
whole dome had been cast in a solid piece.
'But how is the tortoise to live in his house? Where
are his ribs to go to? Let us examine.
In ordinary
animals the backbone forms an attachment for the ribs,
and there are plenty of muscles outside the ribs. In the
tortoise, the ribs themselves are actually used to form part
of the dome or roof. By examining the inside of a
tortoise-shell, the fact will at once become apparent.
The ribs will be seen forming the girders of this wonderful
THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS AND SEAL FISHERIES 299
roof, and they are connected together by means of the
above-mentioned plates of bone and denticulated edges,
while the centre portion of the bone sends down an
arch to form a canal, in which the spinal marrow is con-
tained.
'The tortoise therefore lives inside a house, which is
composed of his own ribs formed into a dome, and he rests
upon his sternum or breast-bone, which is flattened out
into a broad plate, to serve, first, for the attachment of the
ribs, and, secondly, as a kind of supporting foot or basement.
Can there possibly be a more beautiful piece of design
than this, which combines economy of material and great
strength with lightness?
'We often find the same design in created things
utilised for various purposes. It is therefore highly
interesting to find that the same kind of denticulated
suture as adopted in the tortoise is present also in our
own skulls.
A bony box is required to carry and protect
the brain; the human skull therefore is formed of bones,
each being joined to its neighbour by identically the same.
kind of union as that in the tortoise. There is in the
human skull another meaning for this: the interposition
of several lines of sutures all over the skull prevents a
fracture of one of the bones of the skull spreading to its
neighbour, just as the woodwork in a window frame
prevents the fracture of an individual square of glass
spreading to the adjoining squares.
'In the common hedgehog we find a very curious
bit of mechanism. The hedgehog has no horny studs
fastened into the skin, as in the armadillo, nor yet has he a
bone-formed dome, covered with horny scales, as in the
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
tortoise. Instead of this, his horny covering assumes the
form of spines, or bristles, each set firmly into the skin at
one end, and very sharply pointed at the other end.
These bristles the owner can erect in groups, with all
the points outwards, presenting a formidable array of
weapons; but the hedgehog has also power to lay back all
these sharp-pointed spines in one direction, viz. from his
head downwards. In this position they form a carpet,
which, if smoothed the right way with the hand, is as soft
as velvet. To find out how all this mechanism is carried
out, I have dissected a hedgehog, and was surprised to
find how very slight are the muscles which command the
spines. They
They are fine strings or fibres very similar to the
'corrugator supercilii,' or frowning muscle in our own fore-
head; in fact when a hedgehog curls himself up, he begins
work with a tremendous frown as he tucks his head in-
wards. The muscles that work the spines are attached to
the spines which project from the back-bone, and also
more especially on to the ribs, which I find to be of unusual
strength and abnormal width for so small an animal. The
vertebræ are attached to the ribs in a very peculiar
manner, and each of the back-bones fits on its neighbour
by a wonderful joint, which keeps the chain of bones quite
stiff when the animal is walking, but which enables him
to coil up into a ball on the slightest provocation.
'I find that the hedgehog has a clavicle or collar-bone,
evidently for the purpose of using his forepaws for digging.
His digging-claws are also peculiar, and, when curved
together, assume a shape very like that of the ant-eater,
who pulls down the ants' nests with his tremendous claws.
'Such, then, are a few examples of "design, beauty,
THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS AND SEAL FISHERIES 301
and order” which have lately come under my notice in my
dissecting-room.
'N.B.-I am sadly in want of mole-crickets, dead or
alive. Any so-called vermin will be also acceptable.'
A long inquiry of nine days, in December 1874, into
the bye-laws for the Wye fishery, was diversified by an ex-
amination of the peal of bells in the beautiful church of Ross.
'One evening during the progress of the inquiry, when
inspecting the shops, a magnificent peal of bells began to
ring. Having but once before seen a church belfry, when
they were ringing a peal, I determined, if possible, to get
up into the belfry. With some difficulty, having no light,
we found the little door at the base of the tower, and, after
shouting awhile, a man came down with a candle in an
ancient horn lantern. I then went up and up and up
some very narrow and much worn stairs, till I arrived at
the belfry. Imagine a largish room quite square, four bits
of candle burning a dim light, from the ends of a very
primitive chandelier made up of laths, a creaky floor, a
roof of antiquated timbers, an old man and a charity boy
on a form in the middle, the solemn tick, tick, tick of the
church clock, and eight men, each standing by a rope,
and you will have some idea of the scene which presented
itself to my view. The chief of the ringers gave me a very
kind welcome; and after giving some mysterious orders to
the ringers, who went each to his rope, at a given signal off
went the merry bells, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, again and again
for about five times. The leader then cried loudly, “Bob”!
and the bells instantly altered to (as I understood after-
wards) 2, 1, 3, 5, 4, 7, 6, 8; then to 3, 2, 1, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8;
and so on for a considerable time, interspersed with the
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
orders loudly given every now and then "Single"! "Bob"!
till at last the poor bells seemed suddenly to recover their
senses, and away they went loudly 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8;
and then "Halt!" This peal-ringing was evidently hard
work, but the music was beautiful. It was a peal of
"Grandsire Triplets," whatever that may mean. Grand-
sire, I believe, is the name of a man who was a great
authority on bell-ringing. An inscription on the wall
was pointed out to me with evident pride, which reads as
follows:-" February 11, 1851, was rung in this tower a
true and complete peal of Grandsire Triplets, containing
5,040 changes, in three hours and two minutes, being the
first true peal ever rung in this country."
Then came
the names of the ringers.
'I was then permitted to ring a bell, and was surprised
to find the tremendous velocity and power with which the
rope, at a certain stage of the pull, rushes upwards. This
is very dangerous to novices, who might get entangled in
the rope, and smashed by it against the roof above. It
requires great knack to pull the rope at a certain instant
so as to make the bell speak. How the men manage, under
these circumstances, to ring a peal, especially with changes,
I cannot understand. I was told that the bells were then
"raised," that is they were standing with their mouths
uppermost, and, as time was getting on, the ringers must
"fall" them, i.e. bring them very gradually back to their
original position, with the mouths downwards. This "falling
the bells" took some time, during which many musical
combinations took place most enchanting to the ear; they
ended, as usual, with a half-faint 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.
'I spread the news of my discovery of the bell-ringers
at Ross Church among those present at the Inquiry, and
THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS AND SEAL FISHERIES 303
the ringers promised to ring us another peal the following
evening. We had to wait till the evening church service
was over, when a goodly company of strangers visited the
belfry. The ringers then took extra pains with their
complicated change ringing, which is far beyond my
comprehension, and even, I have reason to know, past
the understanding of the learned lawyers assembled. They
cross-examined the ringers again and again, but could
make nothing of it. I never saw lawyers so completely
stumped before, and this by eight honest hard-working
men, a mason, a wheelwright, a tailor, a tallow-chandler,
a shoemaker, a ploughman, &c. Trahit sua quemque
voluptas was here well exemplified. The lawyers knew
their business, the ringers knew theirs. When the men
had rung a beautiful peal, they offered to muffle the bells in
our honour. The bells are generally only muffled at
Christmas. Muffling the bells, I was told, means tying
a bit of leather on to the clappers, so that the sound is
subdued. While two men went up to muffle the bells, the
ringers sat down in a row on a form, each with a hand-bell
in his hand. By interchanging these bells they rang
a very pretty peal, and then standing up, played several
good tunes on these hand-bells.
"The bells being now muffled, the men rang another
peal, the effect of which was exceedingly beautiful. I then
with my colleague, Mr. Walpole, went right up into the
steeple, and stood upon the beam, close over the eight great
bells, as they were giving out their iron voices. The
noise here was tremendous. By signs alone could we
speak, but it was a grand sight to see the bells swinging in
great circles, with tremendous power and swiftness, and
then to see them instantly stopped in their wild career,
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
and made to speak by the comparatively feeble hand of the
man at the rope below. The sight of these eight bells
all swinging, apparently madly, and without order, and
yet giving out a most musical peal, which (when the bells
are not muffled) can be heard eight miles off, was grand in
the extreme. After looking well at the bells, I sent down
word to ask the ringers to "fall" them; and it was very in-
teresting to see, how neatly and gently the bells began to
lessen their speed, then seem to despair of their work, then
labour heavily at it, then begin to slumber, and at last fall
into the deep heavy sleep, which they have enjoyed more or
less for one hundred and eighty years. Only fancy one.
hundred and eighty Christmas days! Taking a generation at
thirty years, these bells must have rung their Christmas peal
to no less than six generations of the inhabitants of Ross
since the reign of king William III., A.D 1695, when the
"Man of Ross," John Kyrle, gave the big bell. It is said.
that the Man of Ross was present at the casting of the
tenor or great bell, and that he took with him an old
silver tankard, which, after drinking claret and sherry, he
threw in and had cast with the bell. By a curious coinci-
dence this bell unexpectedly fell off the wheel soon after
John Kyrle's funeral.'
Frank Buckland was elected corresponding member of
the Zoological Society of Philadelphia, an honorary member
of the Chester Society of Natural History, presided over by
his friend Canon Kingsley, and a member of other local
associations.
He still found time for many public and social engage-
ments; exhibiting objects of newest interest from his
collection at the soirées of the Royal Society and College
THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS AND SEAL FISHERIES 305
of Surgeons; attending meetings of the Fisheries Preserva-
tion Society, under the presidency of the Duke of Northum-
berland, and of the Thames Angling Association, who
presented him with a diamond ring and a watch and chain
in testimony of the value of his aid.
He also received an exhibitor's medal for his contribu-
tions to the International Exhibition of 1873 at South
Kensington.
In 1874 he delivered two lectures at the Society of
Arts on Natural History, followed by a lecture at his
Museum, and another at the Brighton Aquarium, when he
gave prizes to his younger hearers for the best essays on his
former lectures; he also lectured at the opening of the
Manchester Aquarium in May 1874, and at Harting,
Sussex, in the same year.
Two young nephews called in Albany Street while he
was preparing for the Brighton lecture. The old rhinoceros
at the Zoological Gardens had lately died, and Frank
Buckland was busy making a huge pie of a portion of the
carcase, to be distributed among his Brighton audience.
The nephews came in for an anticipatory share. It was
like very tough beef.
He met the Prince and Princess of Wales, and later
the Shah of Persia, at Earl Granville's. Dined at the
Wykehamists' and St. George's Hospital and other public
dinners; wrote an article on the Two-headed Nightingale;
called on them and the giant and giantess, Captain Bates
and Miss Swan. The Two-headed Nightingale returned his
visit, and he entertained the giant and giantess at dinner
in honour of their marriage, on which happy occasion the
Two-headed Nightingale officiated as bridesmaids.
X
306
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
CHAPTER XIII.
SPECIAL INQUIRIES, NORFOLK BROADS: CRABS, LOBSTERS,
AND OYSTERS, HERRING FISHERIES, &c.: 1875–1877.
FROM salmon, sea-birds and seals, Frank Buckland's care
was extended to other freshwater fish, crabs and lobsters,
oysters, and sea-fish in general.
6
'Salmon fisheries,' he had written in 1871, do not form
the only part of aquiculture that requires development by
means of scientific attention and regulation in this country.
There are thousands of acres of fresh water, such as the
lakes in various parts of England and Wales, the
Norfolk broads, and even comparatively smaller lakes and
ponds in private parks, the cultivation of which is now
absolutely neglected.
By the judicious administration of rules as to close
time, netting, &c., for freshwater fish other than salmon,
tons of white fish may be grown as food for the people,
a kind of food which would find a market in large manu-
facturing towns; while at the same time sport for the
nglers of London and its vicinity, as well as those of the
large inland manufacturing districts, would be greatly in-
creased.'
An ardent fisherman himself, he thought it an object
of national concern to provide the working classes with
healthy sport.
SPECIAL INQUIRIES, ETC.
307
In 1875, Frank Buckland was instructed by the Home
Secretary to inquire into the state of the crab, lobster, and
other sea-coast fisheries on the coast of Norfolk; and
ascertain whether they should be placed under regulations.
to prevent waste, and to preserve them in future.
His report, after several weeks of careful inquiry, was
presented in August 1875, and contained various infor-
mation; other notes, gathered at Yarmouth, were also
published.¹
The growth of the herring fishery is noticed: 422 mil-
lions have been landed in one year at Yarmouth and
Lowestoft alone, yet no diminution of the herring has taken
place within the memory of man. Many boats fish with
one or two miles of nets, and five or six thousand miles of
nets are laid for herring on favourable nights in the
North Sea. The mackerel fishery is there comparatively
unimportant, the trawl fishery of great value, about 1,000
large trawling vessels going out from Yarmouth and
Lowestoft.
The Norfolk broads, the Report states, are freshwater
lakes varying in size and depth; there are nearly fifty
altogether in Norfolk and Suffolk. If the Serpentine was
surrounded by a jungle of reeds and rushes extending a
considerable distance out from the bank, a good idea of a
Norfolk broad on a small scale would be obtained. They
form a chain of inland lakes, containing nearly 5,000 acres.
of water, connected with the sea by about 200 miles of
river, the greater part of which is navigable.'
In these broads tons of fish and fry were yearly de-
stroyed by unregulated netting, and by the cutting of the
1 Notes and Jottings from Animal Life, p. 184.
X 2
308
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
water weeds when laden with fish spawn; and it appeared
advisable that the freshwater fisheries of Norfolk and
Suffolk should be scientifically cultivated. All classes of
society dwelling in the neighbourhood were willing to take
this matter in hand. The rivers and broads were admirably
adapted for the breeding and fattening of such indigenous
fish as belonged to the species of carp, bream, perch,
and so forth. The temperature of the water in the spring
and summer months was favourable to the breeding of these
fish; fish of this kind do not, like the salmon, require
gravel beds and running water; they, on the contrary,
naturally deposit, or rather suspend, their spawn on the
water weeds and other aquatic plants. The borders of the
broads are for the most part margined with dense jungles
of weeds, while the bottom is planted with forests of sub-
aqueous vegetation, so that there are many hundred miles
of spawning ground available for the fish which live in
these waters.
Common yellow river trout were also found in the
broads, and new species of fish might be introduced.
The Report also dealt with the oyster, mussel, and
whelk fisheries of the coast, the whelk fishery at Lyun
alone yielding about 6,000l. a year.
The crab and lobster fishery, which formed the principal
industry of the coast near Cromer, had fallen off to a
serious extent, owing to the wholesale destruction of the
young crabs, locally called toggs.
At Cromer the fishermen generally threw back the
toggs into the sea, but at Sherringham, a neighbouring
village, they were kept and sold. One fish merchant esti-
mated that 28,000 undersized crabs, worth barely one
SPECIAL INQUIRIES, ETC.
309
farthing each, were brought ashore and sold at Sherring-
ham in one day.
The crab fishers of Cromer have a peculiar arithmetic,
thus two crabs are counted as one. The two crabs being
called a cast, six-score of crabs is called a hundred.
Cromer, therefore, a hundred crabs means 240.
At
The lobster fishery was also diminishing from the sale of
undersized lobsters from 4 to 6 inches long.
The Report made various recommendations, including
protection for the broads, a close time for the crabs and
lobsters, and the prohibition of the sale of undersized fish,
crabs, and lobsters.
An Act was passed in 1876, regulating the crab and
lobster fishery of Norfolk; and another Act was passed in
1877, after a Parliamentary inquiry, before which Frank
Buckland gave evidence, for the protection of the fisheries
in the broads. A general inquiry was also directed into
the crab and lobster fisheries of the United Kingdom,
preliminary to considered legislation on the subject.
This inquiry was held in September, October, and
November 1876, by Frank Buckland and Mr. Walpole for
England; and by the same Inspectors, with Mr. Archibald
Young, for Scotland. The Irish Fishery Inspectors also held
an inquiry, and in result an exhaustive report was pre-
sented in March 1877, which formed the basis of a further
Act passed in the same year regulating this subject.
To this report, which collected a variety of curious
information, was appended an interesting paper by Frank
Buckland on the Natural History of Crabs and Lobsters.
'We eat dressed crab, and lobster salad, and refresh
our wearied brains with the stores of phosphorus they con-
310
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
tain, yet those brains give little thought to the strange
unseen life of these creatures, which by hundreds of
thousands are caught for us by toiling'fishermen in British
seas, while 600,000 lobsters are yearly brought from Nor-
way to eke out our supply. Before the young crabs are
born, the mother crab tucks up, under her tail, her numerous
family of from one to two million coral-like eggs (it is the
lobster, gentle reader, not the crab, turns red in boiling),
and she sidles on tiptoe many a mile from her rocky home,
to some sandy flat in the deep sea, where her young family
may flourish best. There, or perhaps on returning home,
in early spring, the time for all young things to come
forth, the tiny crabs burst the egg; yet so unlike their
parent, that till lately they were thought some strange
animalcula; goggle eyes, a hawk's beak, a scorpion's tail,
a rhinoceros' horn, adorn a body fringed with legs, yet
scarcely bigger than a grain of sand! Several strange
shapes are assumed in turn, ere the young crab attains
the parent form. For the parents of so numerous a family
it is well that nature has provided the young crabs with a
strong suit of clothes, which does not wear out; but it is
quickly outgrown; the young crabs shed from time to
time the horny case, even to their finger-nails and eyelids;
and mother nature straightway provides, underneath, a
new, soft leathery suit, which quickly hardens into shell.
Another marvel is that the growth is, as it were, by leaps
and bounds; each time it bursts its case, the young crab
swells suddenly to twice the size of the discarded shell.
'In crab youth several new suits are annually required.
In maturer life the lady crab, it seems, is content with one
new dress each year; yet is not the romance of life over.
SPECIAL INQUIRIES, ETC.
311
In the time of her soft-shelled weakness and seclusion, a
male crab in full armour constantly attends her, guards her
from danger, and solaces her in her retirement. An old
crab's shell covered sometimes with barnacles, or with
oysters of several years' growth, shows that the patriarch
has outlived the change of fashions which occupied his youth.
'The lobster in its infant transformations and later
growth differs little from the crab. These are the scavengers
of the seas, and like high-flavoured food, which the nicer
crab would reject.'
Frank Buckland's full account of the structure and
habits of these curious creatures may be read with interest.
"The stormy seasons of the rocky coasts frequented by
crabs and lobsters give, for the most part, a sufficient
natural close time for this fishery; and it was only found
needful to provide by legislation against the sale of under-
sized crabs and lobsters, and of crabs at the breeding-
time, when, unlike lobsters, they are unsuitable for food,
and also of soft-shelled crabs.'
A curious and kindly episode is contained in this
Report. The Fishermen at Hall Sands keep four or
five Newfoundland dogs for the purpose of carrying lines
from the shore to the boats in rough weather. The surf
is so heavy in certain winds, that the only possible way of
landing is for the boat to be drawn through the surf by
the friends of the fishermen on shore, by means of the
lines which the dogs take out to them. The fishermen
think it a great hardship that these dogs should be taxed.
We promised to draw the attention of Her Majesty's
Government to the matter, and we have noticed it accord-
ingly here.'
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
In 1876 a Parliamentary Committee on Oyster Culture
sat to inquire into the reasons of the scarcity of oysters,
the effect of the recent legislation, and the expediency of
further measures.
Frank Buckland gave evidence before this committee,
which eventually recommended the extension of the close
time for oysters to the whole of the months from May to
September inclusive, except as to the deep-sea fishery, the
close time for which was fixed by international regulation
from June 15 to the end of August. The committee also
recommended the prohibition of the sale of undersized
oysters, and the encouragement of private enterprises for
breeding and feeding oysters on the foreshore. The report
led to appropriate legislation in 1877.
The use of dynamite for the destruction of fish formed
the subject of a special inquiry and report by the In-
spectors in 1877, and of a consequent Act of Parliament.
In the same year Frank Buckland, with Mr. Walpole
and Mr. Archibald Young, were appointed Commissioners
to inquire into the condition of the herring fishery on
the coast of Scotland. Several weeks in August and
September were occupied in this inquiry, H.M.S. ‘Jackal'
being appointed to convey the Commissioners to the Shet-
land and Orkney Isles, and various places on the coast.
A pleasant description of their cruise, with other notes
from Scotland, is contained in 'Notes and Jottings.'
1
For nearly seventy years the Scotch herring fisheries
have been superintended by the Board of White Herring
Fishery; their importance, however, justified a special Com-
mission. In February and March spawning herring are
¹ Pp. 141-173.
SPECIAL INQUIRIES, ETC.
313
caught off the coast of Ayrshire. In May and June shoals
of young herring, with undeveloped roe, swarm in the
Minch, the narrow sea lying between the Hebrides and
the north-west coast of Scotland. These are called mat-
ties or maidens, and are principally sold in the Russian
markets, where they are regarded as a delicacy, and the
great Russian families are in the habit of obtaining for
their own use an early barrel of Scotch matties.'
'
From July to September the herring have reached the
south-west coasts and Loch Fyne, the Loch Fyne herring
being specially valued for their size and flavour. In the
same months the great herring fishery on the east coast
takes place, the fish there caught being mostly spawning
or breeding fish. Late in the season spent, or shotten
herrings are taken, and are sold as of inferior quality in
continental markets.
These are the principal herring fisheries in Scotland,
though herring are caught throughout the year.
The annual take of herring is prodigious. About a
million of barrels, representing 800,000,000 fish, are taken
in Scotland; the Norwegian herring fishery is as pro-
ductive as the Scotch fishery; and the English, the
Irish, the French, and the Dutch fisheries are also very
productive. Estimating the gross produce of these four
fisheries at only the same amount as the Scotch fishery,
2,400,000,000 herring must be annually taken by these
four nations, the British, the French, the Dutch, and
the Norwegian. Yet the destruction of herring by man
is probably insignificant compared with that wrought
by other natural agencies. Cod and ling, of which
three and a half million were taken in Scotland in 1876,
314
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
feed largely on herring, six or seven being often foun
in the stomach of a cod. These, it is thought, may
consume twelve times as many herring as the four nations
together. Gannets, of which 10,000 dwell on Ailsa Craig,
must catch more herring than all the fishermen of Scotland;
'whales, porpoises, seals, codfish, dogfish, predaceous fish of
every description, are constantly feeding on them from the
moment of their birth. The shoals of herring in the ocean
are always accompanied by flocks of gulls and other sea
birds, which are continuously preying upon them; and it
seems therefore no exaggeration to conclude that man does
not destroy one herring for every fifty destroyed by other
enemies. The destructive power of man therefore is in-
significant, when it is compared with the destructive
agencies which nature has created; and nothing that man
has done, or is likely to do, has produced, or will probably
produce, any appreciable effect on the number of herring
in the open seas.'
On the east coast off Aberdeen, the fishery is now
carried on in deeper seas, with larger boats than formerly;
and though some inshore fishings on the west coast have
diminished, the fishing in general has largely increased.
The substitution of lighter nets of cotton for the old hemp
nets enables the same boats to carry five times the former
extent of netting, and with the increase in the number
and size of the fishing-boats, has raised the extent of the
netting used by the Scotch herring fishers to a notable
magnitude. There are more than 7,000 boats in Scotland
fishing for herring. These boats must, in the aggregate,
have nets 23,000,000 yards long, and certainly in the ag-
gregate 230,000,000 square yards of netting. The Scotch
SPECIAL INQUIRIES, ETC.
315
herring nets would, in other words, reach in a continuous.
line for nearly 12,000 miles, and cover a superficial area
of 70 square miles. They would go more than three times.
across the Atlantic, from Liverpool to New York, and
cover more than one half of the Metropolis under the
Metropolitan Board of Works.'
It is true that this vast amount of netting is not
worked at the same place and time; but on many nights.
there are 1,500 boats fishing off the coast of Aberdeenshire.
Their nets would reach six times across the North Sea.
The sprat or garvie fishery is also of some magnitude;
80 tons of garvies, worth 4,0007., are annually sent from
Inverness alone, to London and other large markets, as
food for the poorer classes.
The Commissioners recommended some minor regula-
tions for the improvement of the inshore fishing; but that
the gannets, rather than the fishermen, should be restricted.
They considered general legislation for the herring fishery
unnecessary and unadvisable.
To this report was appended a full and interesting
account, by Frank Buckland, of the natural history of the
herring and sprat.
These special inquiries did not interfere with the
annual reports on the salmon fishery, in which various
strange customs are noticed. In the estuary of the Eden in
Cumberland, the salmon are taken by heave-nets and hand-
nets, like gigantic shrimp-nets, the larger ones 19 feet, the
smaller 6 feet wide. The fishermen were apt to quarrel for the
best places on the shore, which, however, were chosen by
a custom called 'mills.' 'A number of small hills of sand
are made, according to the number of fishermen who want
316
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
places, and are arranged in a circle. The last man who
comes up is blindfolded, and set a short distance off, while
each man chooses a hillock of sand, with one for the man
blindfolded; the latter is then brought up, set in the
centre of the circle of hills, the bandage taken off his eyes,
and he proceeds to kick down one of the hillocks. The
man who chose that hillock has choice of position in the
water, and the second, third, fourth, and so on, are chosen
as the owners of the heaps alternately next to the one
kicked down.
This rude lottery was capable of abuse, and the Inspec-
tors were appealed to by the fishermen to settle their
disputes.
Lectures and literary work went on during these years
as heretofore.
'The Log-Book of a Fisherman and Zoologist' was
published in 1875, collecting and enlarging articles on
varied subjects.
6
6
In the same year, in addition to his usual contributions
to Land and Water' and other papers, Frank Buck-
land undertook a new edition of White's Natural His-
tory of Selborne,' adding a store of original observations.
To this Lord Selborne contributed a chapter on the
Archæology of Selborne, and Mr. Delamotte some beau-
tiful illustrations.
Frank Buckland was an ardent admirer of Gilbert
White, with whom, notwithstanding the interval of a
century, he had much in common; a like keen observation
of nature, and power of opening the eyes and ears of
others to the wonders which daily surround us.
Did good Gilbert White, when he watched the flight of
SPECIAL INQUIRIES, ETC.
317
and
birds in his quiet parsonage garden, noted their song,
marked the opening and close of flowers, think that his
letters would be read with delight, and multiplied in
successive editions a hundred years afterwards; or was he
all unconscious of the pleasure and profit he was storing
up for succeeding generations?
In July 1875 Frank Buckland went to Windsor, at the
request of Prince Christian, 'to examine into the plague of
frogs,' and was presented to the Queen.
Adopting Nature's principle of 'Eat, and be eaten,' he
advised to turn out the ducks to devour the frogs.
He made a report on the subject, with which the Queen
expressed herself much pleased. In the following year
the Queen visited his museum.
(
May 13, 1876.-Her Majesty the Queen visited my
Fish Museum. Met her at the door and conducted her
right round the Museum, explaining salmon-breeding, casts
of salmon, Prince Christian's pike, seal story, whale story,
the big silurus, the big carp. Spoke also to the Empress
of Germany, the Duke of Edinburgh, Sir Bartle Frere,
and others. Professor Owen congratulated me
appearance of the Museum.'
on the
In 1876 one of the oldest home pets, my poor old
Hag,' died, to the grief of her master, who showed his
sincere sympathy in this account of his dumb friend :-
'Those of my friends, who know my working-room at
Albany Street, will recollect that I always have attached
to my staff as "chamberlains" several monkeys. For the
last seven years the "old Hag" and Tiny have lived in a
parrot's cage by the side of my fire, and in cold weather
they were put into their night cage, and put before
318
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
the fire till the morning. Last summer a lady asked me
to take charge of her pet monkey, Jenny, offering me at
the same time Jenny's large cage.
Since the summer
the three monkeys have lived in my room in this palace-
like cage.
'I am sorry to say there are now only two monkeys in
the cage, for it grieves me much to report that the "old
Hag" has gone the way of all monkeys.
'A few months ago the Hag began to eat her tail, not
an uncommon thing for monkeys to do when their health
is failing; she gnawed away about two inches from the
end of her tail. I tried to stop the progress of the
disease, but in vain. At last I cured it for a while by
giving her raw rumpsteak to eat. About three weeks ago
the poor old thing's health failed again, and in spite of port
wine and the best of nourishing food, she got weaker and
weaker, till during the past few days she could not walk-
in fact, could hardly stand. When I carne down on Sunday
morning I could not see the Hag in the cage. John the
page boy said she was in her box, but would not take her
breakfast; so I got into the cage, and was heartily grieved
to find the poor old Hag in a sitting attitude quite dead.
'The old Hag was a very remarkable monkey; for
nearly twelve years she has been my constant companion,
sitting close by my side in the corner of the cage, warming
herself in the winter, and in summer asking me, in
her own way, to put her and Tiny out in the sun.
'The life and adventures of "Hag and Tiny" in days.
gone by are fully recorded in my "Log-Book of a Fisher-
man and Zoologist." They used formerly to be allowed to
run about the room loose; but one day, when I was playing
1
SPECIAL INQUIRIES, ETC.
319
with the Hag, she bit me in the right thumb, and this
was just at the time when I was excessively busy with
official work. I showed the old Hag the blood streaming
from my hand, and said, "You bad old Hag!" The poor
thing knew as well as possible that she had done me some
mischief, for she looked at me in a pitiful way, and talked
monkey—I have learned to talk monkey long ago—saying,
"I am very sorry that I bit you; it was an accident.”
'The Hag had two distinct faces--I mean expressions.
One was that of dolce far niente, when she was lying in
front of the fire warming herself, after the manner of a
cat. At this time her pretty brown eyes were always
fixed on mine, and when writing, many an idea I have
obtained from looking into the dear Hag's brilliant eyes.
'From having lived so long continually in my room,
there was a sort of mutual understanding between us; and
if ever an animal thought, it was the old Hag. It was
purely the language of the eye, for I could tell from her
look what she wanted; and I am pretty sure she could
read my thoughts in her own way. When I was hard at
work, and the room quite quiet, the Hag wore her face of
ontentment; when, however, she was enraged, she was
quite a different monkey. She would bristle her hair up
on the top and around her head, and all over her body, so
that she looked twice as big as she really was; she would
gape wide, open her mouth and show her sharp incisor
teeth, looking the very picture of rage and fury. She
would then fly on to the bars of the cage, and shake them
tremendously, while she "rattled her whistle," as I called
it, ¿.e. uttered her cry of defiance and rage, for she was a
true, plucky little monkey. She was about the same size
320
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
as an average-sized cat, only with a longer tail. For some
unknown reason she had taken a most intense dislike to
Mrs. Buckland's sister; if she only heard her voice she
would begin to get in a rage, more than once she has
pulled her dress nearly off her back, and often and often I
have seen her caught by the hair by the Hag and hanging
on to the cage like the pictures of Absalom suspended
from the tree. The Hag, however, was greatest possible
friends with Mrs. Buckland, who used frequently to take
her out and nurse her of an evening. Mrs. Buckland can
tame any animal in the world-ecce signum, myself. The
Hag's perquisites for nuts and sweets were the coppers
out of my coat pocket. On Sunday she had sixpenny
worth of nuts and sweetstuff.
'Somehow or other the old Hag always knew when it
was 1 o'clock. Regularly every day, about five minutes to
1, she used to cry for her dinner; in fact, the cat's-meat
man and Tiny and the Hag were as good as watches to me.
Exactly at half-past 12 every day, I hear my cat's-meat
man in the street calling "Meat;" if I don't hear him
the parrot immediately commences to call "Meat, meat."
Old grey poll parrot has been in my room much longer
than the Hag, and can take off to a nicety the various
cries of the monkeys. I have also a thrush whose song is
very beautiful. The parrot is picking up the thrush's
song nicely; he has as yet only got the first words of the
thrush's song, viz., "knee-deep, knee-deep, knee-deep."
Poll is now trying to imitate the bark of a little suricate
which is running about the house.
'The monkeys' dinner consists of boiled potatoes,
brought up on a tin tray. The Hag and Tiny always
SPECIAL INQUIRIES, ETC.
321
dined together, one on either side of the tray, but poor
Jenny never got a bit to eat till they were satisfied. Jenny
knew all about this, and sat contentedly looking at the
Hag and Tiny until her turn came to have her meal, then
she came down and dined by herself.
The old Hag and Tiny were the greatest possible
friends. I have had Tiny about seven years; Mr. Bartlett
brought her down in a money-bag from the Zoological
Gardens for a dead monkey; but Mrs. Buckland, being an
excellent nurse to animals, brought her round. Tiny always
acknowledged the superior authority of the Hag, in the
same sort of way a young lady acknowledges the superiority
of her chaperone. Tiny is always looking out for mischief,
and when the Hag was sitting on the bar of the cage, she
would pull the old Hag's tail, sharp like a bell-rope, and
then look the other way, as if she had not done it. The
old Hag would show her teeth at Tiny, as much as to say,
"Don't you do that again." On some occasions, however,
Tiny went a little too far, and the Hag could not stand it
any longer; would rush after her, and give her a jolly good
whacking, pinching, and biting; I don't think, however,
she really hurt Tiny. An occasional whacking from the
Hag did Tiny good. If the Hag was taken out of the
cage, Tiny would cry after her dreadfully; her cry is "whoa,
whoa," a pretty plaintive musical note; and if she thought
anyone was hurting the Hag, or teasing her, she would
go
perfectly mad with rage. I took particular care to observe
what Tiny did when the Hag was dead; she evidently
knew something had happened. Some vague idea of alarm
had crossed her mind, for she walked up and down, looking
in a puzzled manner at the Hag, and then at me, as though
Y
322
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
she wanted to find out by my looks what was the matter.
The whole of Sunday Tiny was in a terrible state of mind,
looking round and listening for every footstep upon the
stairs, and watching the door. When John and myself
went near her, she would fly at us immediately; she evi-
dently thought we had done something to her old friend
the Hag. She seems now quite to have forgotten all about
it, except when I call, "Hag, Hag!" she then looks
anxiously round the room. The only one thing that
seriously alarmed the Hag and Tiny was a snake, dead or
alive. The old Hag was excessively curious, and, when a
parcel was brought in, she would watch and watch until she
saw what was inside. The greatest fun I could have with
the Hag and Tiny was to let them unpack a snake. I would
put a snake into several coverings, and the monkeys would
tear away the paper, thinking there was sweetstuff in the
centre of the parcel. The moment they saw the snake they
exhibited unmistakable signs of fear, getting to the top of
the cage, and chattering at the snake. I have come to
the conclusion the poor old thing died purely of old age.
She must have been, I calculate, fourteen years old; her
coat the last two years has been getting quite silvery.
'My motto has been, "Love me, love my monkey.”
Those who knew my monkeys personally will, I am sure,
be sorry that I have lost such a dear friend as my poor old
Hag.'
A few months later he narrated the life and death of
another of his pets, the reigning suricate.
'For the last eight months there has been running
about the house, quite free and uncontrolled, my little
Jemmy. My Jemmy is a zenick, or suricate.
They are
SPECIAL INQUIRIES, ETC.
323
sometimes wrongfully called the prairie-dog, but he is
neither dog, nor does he live on the prairie. Still, he
has a wonderful voice, not at all unlike the barking of a
dog. His general appearance much resembles a small
ichneumon or mongoose, but to my mind he rather
resembles a large rat, only that his nose is much more
pointed, like a fox. When he is at home he lives in
South Africa, and burrows in the sand like a rabbit. A
friend of mine tells me that he has often disturbed colonies
of them, and that they instantly bolt into their holes.
Jemmy was very good at a mouse, either alive or dead.
He was a greedy little rascal, breakfasting first with the
servants, and twice upstairs afterwards. Whenever John
brought up anything to eat, Jemmy was sure to follow
him up for his share. He was excessively tame, but the
only people he disliked were little children, and his
delight was to bite their white legs. His pace was
generally a canter, with his tail stretched out straight
behind, and he was very fond of cantering upstairs barking
in front of any person. Before he entered my room, he
always stood at the door with one leg up like a pointer
dog, and peeped into the room.
'People were very much struck with his intelligent
appearance, his jet black eyes looking most amiable, and,
at the same time, plaintive. He was so gentle in his dis-
position that I used to call him "poor little fellow," and
he knew his name quite well, although I fancied he was
somewhat deaf. He had long sharp claws on his fore-
legs, and would scratch at everything, particularly between
the joints of the floor. The moment a newspaper was
thrown on the floor, he immediately began scratching it to
Y 2
324
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
pieces. He would hunt for mice behind the books. He
was a great friend of the dustmen, because they sometimes
brought him mice. Being an animal that loves a hole, he
was fond of getting into boots as they lay on the floor,
and I have often had to shake Jemmy out of my boot
before putting it on. Of the three cats in the house he
was complete master. The cat's meat man comes almost to
a minute, at half past twelve, and when the cats rushed
to the area, Jemmy was there too. He would steal the
meat from the cats. When he got near the cat and she
began to show fight, he would back himself straight up,
and putting his head down between his fore-legs, would
be sure to have some of the meat. One cat was an
especial favourite. John (the buttons) thinks it is because
he played with her from a kitten, and he would bite any-
one who interfered with her. He would sit up before the
fire on his hind-legs, and warm himself. When the fire
was going down, he would get under the grate, and would
suddenly scuttle out with his coat all on fire from a hot
cinder having dropped on him.
'Besides his barking, Jemmy had another note, which
sounded like a thrashing machine. He would make this
noise when tickled, at which time he showed his teeth,
but did not attempt to bite.
'When hungry he used to go to the kitchen to the
servants, and "quack, quack, quack," till he got something.
He was not friends with the laughing jackass, who, when-
ever he came near, put up the crest and feathers on his
head at him. I do not know which was most afraid
of the other, the jackass of Jemmy, or Jemmy of the
jackass. With Jenny and Tiny, the monkeys, he was an
SPECIAL INQUIRIES, ETC.
325
especial favourite. When any person touched Jemmy at
the fire, the monkeys took his part, thinking someone
would hurt him.
'On Thursday last, Jemmy was in the casting-room,
when my secretary hearing a strange noise, turned round
and saw Jemmy was on his back on the floor in a severe
fit. He was taken upstairs to my studio, and I put his
feet in hot water, slit his ear and gave him a dose of
calomel; in fact, I gave him every medical attention;
but it was of no use, as he died on the following day.
When the poor little fellow was struggling before the fire,
Jenny and Tiny thought that their favourite was being
injured by myself. They made frightful faces, desperately
shook the bars of their cage, and almost cried with anger.
These monkeys must have known that something serious
was the matter with Jemmy, or they would not have made
such a demonstration; in fact I never saw them so furious
before. Even now, they have hardly forgiven me for
supposed injuries I had done to Jemmy. Tiny especially
misses him, and when I call "Jemmy, Jemmy, Jemmy,'
she looks anxiously about expecting to see Jemmy come
round the corner.'
2)
Besides scorpions and snakes, which, in their transit
to Albany Street, caused anxiety to the Postal Depart-
ment, a variety of beautiful natural objects were also sent
there. Some of these Frank Buckland described in
July 1877.
‘Mr. L————— has been kind enough to send me a most
lovely specimen of Venus's slippers. These slippers are
far more beautiful than anything yet turned out in the
workshop of a London or Parisian ladies' bootmaker.
326
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
These beautiful specimens were not found in the wardrobe
of any small-footed human beauty, but floating far out at
sea, in the Mediterranean on the French coast. Each
slipper is about an inch and a half in length, and half an
inch in the widest part. They are of a lovely glass-like
consistency, and in certain lights resplendent like jelly-
fish. They are the shape of a handsome shoe; the edge
of the shoe projects in a very ornamental dentated margin,
and the toe part is highly ornamented, as if with em-
broidery insertion. It is one of the pterapoda or wing-
footed molluscs, so called from the fin-like lobes which
project from the sides, and are evidently analogous to the
similar organs in some of the sea-snails. These append-
ages are used almost like wings, the creature flapping its
way vigorously through the water, just as a butterfly urges
its devious course through the air.
'I have also received two magnificent specimens of
the golden beetle from India. It is about the size of a
very large lady-bird, and certainly the most beautiful
insect I ever examined. Its appearance is that of a small,
golden tortoise, delicately set under a transparent shield
of thin horn or pale tortoiseshell. The colours are a most
beautiful emerald and gold mixed; so beautiful that a
lady has borrowed the beetles from me for her jeweller,
who has made an enamel model of them, forming most
lovely ornaments.
'If our friends would pay more attention to the beau-
tiful works of the Creator, they would, I think, derive more
real pleasure than from the contemplation of the works
of man, all of which I consider far inferior to Nature's own
design and handiwork.'
SPECIAL INQUIRIES, ETC.
327
Humbler and commoner insects also attracted his
attention.
'Flies,' he wrote, 'must have a wonderful power of
scent. Let the reader try the experiment of putting
down a bit of stinking meat in an open place or on a
window-sill, where no flies are about; in a very short
time, if I mistake not, the blue-bottles will begin to put
in an appearance. Flies are most useful as scavengers,
inasmuch as they lay their eggs in decaying animal
substances; and most interesting it is to watch a fly lay
her eggs. These eggs hatch out in an amazingly short
time, and the gentles very soon eat up the substance upon
which they are deposited. It is said, in fact, that the
produce of two blue-bottle flies would eat up a dead horse
quicker than one lion. The elephant is such a gigantic
and powerful animal that he has few animate enemies. The
greatest enemies to elephants in their wild state are flies;
the elephant has no knowledge of surgery, and the fly-blows
are the death of him. I lately heard of an ingenious plan,
where flies were made subservient to the wants of man.
A poisoned rat had crawled under the floor of a very
smart dining-room, and had died there. The room in
consequence became uninhabitable for a time. All the
boards of the room were about to be removed, when some-
body suggested that a blue-bottle fly should be turned out.
Mr. Blue-bottle hunted about the room for some time; at
last he lighted upon a certain spot on the floor; the
single board was removed, and there, sure enough, was
the dead rat. The blue-bottle had found him out by
means of the scent coming up through the crack in the
boards.
328
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
Among the sunbeams were
common house-flies; they
one might imagine them to
'I was lately watching a sunbeam; the shutters were
partially closed, and the sun's rays came into the room
through a small hole only.
playing some six or eight
generally flew in circles, and
be eagles soaring among the clouds, and looking for their
prey. I once saw an eagle so high in the air that he did
not look larger than one of these flies. The curious part of
this race of the flies was the funny way in which every
now and then they seemed to attack each other, rush-
ing together quickly and instantly separating. All this
was done with such rapidity that the eye could hardly
follow their movements. They also every now and then
tumbled, or pretended to tumble, after the manner of
rooks falling in the air when wet weather is coming
on.
'Those who are fond of natural history, and of watch-
ing the habits and actions of living creatures, need not go
out of their own rooms to find occupation; they will find
plenty of interest in watching those hitherto neglected,
because so common insects, house and blue-bottle flies.'
Frank Buckland's quick observant eyes were always
watching the habits of living creatures, and found enter-
tainment alike in the house, in the country, or in the
humours of the London streets.
In August he described his 'experiences of the London
season from the 'bus-top':-
'I ride generally down to the Fisheries Office on the
top of an omnibus. The top of an omnibus is a grand
place. One can write notes there, think there, smoke there,
get the fresh air there, get wet through there. I like to
SPECIAL INQUIRIES, ETC.
329
get wet through, and the harder it rains or blows the more
I enjoy my ride on the 'bus-top.
66
""
From the 'bus-top I see so many pictures of real life,
that a thought has come across me to paper some of
the things I have seen and heard. London streets and the
people in them are in fact a moving panorama of real life;
besides which, it is fine training for one's faculties of
observation and inquiry. Some of the busmen often say
funny things, and I instantly book them. "Wo-o, hold
hard,” I said the other day, descending from a "yellow
twopenny," at the corner of Westminster Bridge.
"Stop
the pyehanner, Jim; here's a gent as wants to get down,"
shouted the conductor.
'On another occasion the 'bus changed horses in the
middle of the street; the ostler was somewhat slow; the
conductor cried out, "Look alive, father! here's Jack a-
coming." So I changed my place from the knifeboard to
look at "Father," a disagreeable old man, over seventy,
from the look of him; but such a coachman! He drove his
pair of screws splendidly. A brougham got in his way,
and did he not abuse the "tea-and-kettle servant," that's
all! The words "Jack's a-coming" had put him out.
Jack (I found out by looking) was a young man who drove
the 'bus that followed "Father's" 'bus, and who, I sup-
pose, hunted the old fellow to put him out.
'On another occasion I heard the 'bus driver and a
passenger discussing somebody who was not a favourite.
"Bless ye," said the driver, "I could make a better man
than him out of old tea-leaves."
'Will my readers kindly notice, that if they see one
thing of a peculiar kind they are certain to see its ditto,
330
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
if not that day, then very soon afterwards. I saw not very
long ago a little boy at the corner of Vigo Street. He
was the most extraordinary bandy-legged and deformed-
footed little urchin I ever saw, his feet seemed put on the
wrong way, like the Indians put on their horse-shoes the
wrong way to make their pursuers "run to heel." My
first idea was, what an anatomical preparation I could
make out of that boy, or, at least, I should like to cast
him.
'In Parliament Street, not ten minutes afterwards, I
saw a cripple on a board, shoving himself along on a bit of
board with paddles made out of sticks. The cripple would
have made a fine companion picture to the bandy-legged
boy.
'Another day, at Regent Circus, Oxford Street, from
the 'bus-top I saw a girl with an immense stock of fiery
red hair. I took out my note-book, and timed the girl.
I saw another red-headed girl opposite Negretti and
Zambra's shop; a second near the Life Insurance Office,
Regent Street, and a third at the corner of Waterloo Place,
by the Athenæum. "So ho," I said, "my theories are
right, three red-headed girls in seven minutes!" All the
red-headed girls seemed to have come out together the
same day. I looked out four subsequent days, and did not
see a single red-headed girl.
'There is an extraordinary old woman, that I see almost
daily from the 'bus-top, somewhere between Charing Cross
and the bookseller's shop at the corner of Parliament
Street. When she was a baby, somebody must have tied
her head and heels together with a bit of string, just as
they make the crooks of walking-sticks. She is a very
SPECIAL INQUIRIES, ETC.
331
old woman now, and I am afraid very poor; her spine
seems to be in the figure of S, and she carries her head on
about the level of her hip. I must find out the history of
this old woman.
'The night the great Peabody was buried in West-
minster Abbey, I heard the bell toll as I was sitting at my
desk writing very busily. Shortly afterwards, I saw an
old woman wrapped up in a shabby cloak, and apparently
warm, though the night was cold, at the corner of a public-
house opposite the Home Office. She was selling baked
chestnuts; and a bright charcoal fire burning in what, I
should think, had once been a rushlight case, helped to
keep the poor old soul warm. Two shoeblack boys were
standing near her, dressed in red-baize jackets. One of
them—an intelligent open-faced English lad—had a penny
evening paper in his hand, and he was reading a para-
graph, round which ominous black lines were printed. I
looked at the paper as I passed; the paragraph was
headed, "Death of Peabody, the Poor Man's Friend." I
stopped and looked, not intruding on the scene, of course.
The boy went on reading; the poor old woman folded her
arms, and as the boy went on reading, she looked up
through her old worn spectacles, and said, "Bless him, and
God bless him for his kindness to us poor." Artists, where
are your eyes? Why do you not look about you? What
grand natural pictures you would see if you would only
deign to look at what is before you! I ask my friends,
the public, if a greater compliment to Peabody's memory
could be possibly paid than a picture embodying the
scene I have attempted to describe in words.
'I saw a funny scene one day that made me roar with
332
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
laughter. I like to laugh out, I don't often get a chance,
It was a drunken man fighting a block of Wenham Lake
ice. I pass the Wenham Lake ice-shop at Charing Cross
twice daily. One day I saw a sturdy fellow of the
goods-porter class, on the other side of the road by the
Drummonds' Bank door, with a huge block of ice on his
head. He was a little drunk, and when he was in the
middle of one of his rolls, like an ironclad in mid-ocean,
the ice slipped off his shoulders and slipped on the
pavement. The fellow stopped, shook his fist at the ice,
and, I should think, swore considerably at it; at last he
went up and kicked it with his great hob-nailed boots.
This, of course, made the ice slip away; the fool of a man
then followed it, uttering profane words, and then down
he fell with his nose on the ice. This made him more
furious still, and he punched the ice as though it was a
man's head. Some good-natured fellow offered to help
him put the ice-block on his shoulders; but, of course, it
instantly came down with a crash. The man was too drunk
to hold it up.
As the 'bus moved off, the last thing I saw
was the ice-porter pitching into the poor man, who had
offered to assist him. This is all I know; the next day,
as I passed the place, the ice, porter, and all were gone.
6
Another curious scene, taken from life. A cab-horse
in a four-wheeler at the stand by Palace Yard; the cab-
horse fast asleep with his head hanging down; the cab-
man also fast asleep, leaning against the horse. The cab-
horse (I suppose in his sleep) kicks the man; the cabman
instantly wakes, and kicks the cab-horse in return.
"You
brute,” he said, "I can kick as well as you can," and then
they went on at it again—the cab-horse and the cabman
SPECIAL INQUIRIES, ETC.
333
kick for kick for a minute or so, till at last I settled
the dispute by saying, "Hi! cabby, four-wheeler, go to
so-and-so." "Right you are," said the man, and we
all three trundled off, as though nothing particular had
happened.
'I must say a few words about an old acquaintance-
"Kate, the flower woman." She is a good type of the
many industrious London poor, who get a precarious living
by flower-selling in the streets of this vast metropolis.
Mrs. O'Brian-Kate-is an Irish woman. Eight years
ago her husband ran away to America, and left her to
shift for herself and her two children, a boy of ten and a
girl of eight. For eight long years this industrious
woman has sold flowers at the bottom of Windmill Street.
She has given me an outline of her business. She goes to
Covent Garden market to buy flowers at 4 o'clock in
the summer, and 5 in the winter. Camellias cost 6s.
per dozen, and white roses, 3s. ; ferns, 1s. a bunch, and
doubles (whatever they may be), 6d. a dozen. On her
return from market, it takes till 2 o'clock to make up
her flowers into little bouquets, which she sells at 4d. or
6d. each. She has great taste in arranging the colours of
her flowers. She comes out to sell at 3 in the after-
noon, and stays out sometimes as late as 12 o'clock at
night, holding the flower-basket all the time on her arm.
The profit for these nine hours is 1s., sometimes 1s. 6d.,
and on a very good night, 2s. She pays 3s. 3d. a week
for lodgings.
'An immense crowd at the north-west corner of St.
Martin's Church, all the people gazing intently upwards to
the steeple. I got off the 'bus, of course, to see "what
334
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
""
was up," and Mr. 'Busman and Conductor looked as
though they would have liked to have stayed also, only
the "Bobby
came up and told them to "" move on." I
looked and looked, but could see nothing, and my eyes
are not particularly dull. At last, perched up high—very
high-on a ledge of the steeple, I saw a poor little canary-
bird all by himself. I fancy the canary-bird was flattered
by the attendance of the crowd, for he was evidently
addressing them with his "Tweet, tweet." He looked
like a public orator in a swallowtail coat addressing the
multitude upon the rights of men or women, or animals if
you please, and especially the rights of canary-birds, but
all he said, or seemed to say (for I was too far below to
hear him), was "Tweet, tweet. Where am I? Do tell
me how to get home. I know my kind mistress is crying
for me. She left the cage-door open, and I, like a fool,
thought to better myself'; and here I am on the top of
St. Martin's steeple, and I am frightfully hungry, and
can't find any bird-seed on the steeple; and what a pack
of fools you gaping, wingless idiots down in the street
below me are. Now I'm off. Here goes." So the canary-
bird, that had attracted a larger audience than the Prime
Minister or the Archbishop of Canterbury could command,
opened his wings and flew away. The crowd dispersed.
I took the next 'bus, and wished, when I got to the office,
that I could get an old knowing salmon on to the top of
St. Martin's steeple, and make him give his own ideas as
to how the Salmon Acts affect his interests.'
6
While farmers and hungry Christmas folk were pum-
melling the fat sides of beasts at the Cattle Show, it was
Frank Buckland's annual custom to visit the penny shows.
SPECIAL INQUIRIES, ETC.
335
which congregate outside, to him far more attractive, in
their oddity and variety, than the obesity within. In
December 1877, he thus described his annual visit:-
'The Cattle Show at Islington is fully appreciated by
naturalists, inasmuch as it forms a nucleus for the coming
together of the many penny and twopenny natural history
shows which, I am sorry to say, are not so numerous as in
former days. The showman's business is a business per se.
It is not to be wondered that the showman has to exhibit
much of the "gift of the gab" to draw in customers to his
show, as the more declamatory the orator, and the louder
his voice, the more likely is his place to fill.
'We used to read at school, “ Natura hominum novitatis
avida," that is to say, everybody likes novelties, and this is
the secret of the success of all shows.
me that
It is only
'An experienced showman has informed
nothing is easier than to get up a show.
necessary to build a simple wall, make a speech about the
wall, saying you must not look over, and everybody im-
mediately wants to look over the wall, and will pay for the
privilege of so doing. In the middle of the Cattle Show
week I went my usual rounds of the exhibitions outside
the Cattle Show, with my friend Mr. Bartlett. These
penny showmen now know both of us by sight pretty well.
On the whole, the shows of this year were fairly good. I
have before described Fatima, the bodyless and legless girl
lately exhibited in Tottenham Court Road, and about the dis-
posal of whose lower bodily half there was so much dispute.
I have since obtained some excellent evidence that the afore-
said Fatima has really legs and feet. I passed over the road
to a public-house opposite Fatima's show, and when dis-
336
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
cussing with the landlord the cleverness of the exhibition, he
assured me that Fatima had really arms and legs. He was
quite positive of this fact, because every evening after the
exhibition was closed Fatima ran across to his bar for the
supper beer.
Fatima seems to have been such a profitable
exhibition, that there were two Fatimas outside the Cattle
Show at Islington, namely, "Zaara, the living bodyless
girl," and "Zariffa, the trunkless lady." The compliments
paid to both these ladies were extraordinary.
'Zariffa was the talk of the Continent,'
"the amaze-
ment of thousands," and had "been visited by all the
crown-ed 'edds of Europe." It is a curious fact (if we
believe the showman) that the "crown-ed 'edds of Europe"
have nothing else to do, but to spend their time gazing in
admiration at giants, fat women, and at other monstrosities
and freaks of nature, living and dead.
'Zariffa was, like Fatima, apparently bisected; the
trick is optical, and arranged by looking-glasses. Zariffa
was a handsome, dark-haired, dark-eyed girl, always smiling
and laughing. Zaara was a fair-haired girl, stupid, sleepy,
and yawning. Next door to Zaara there was a fried-fish
shop. Fried fish had been done away with for the time,
and outside was a flaming picture, with plenty of smoke
and streams of blood, representing the "Turkish Atrocities.”
"The Wild Man of the Woods," besides many other inter-
esting and important and historical personages, were to be
seen inside the show for the large sum of one penny. A
loud-sounding gong was the means used to attract visitors.
to the Atrocities. The proprietor of the "wild man was
jealous of too many people entering the portals of the
bodyless woman, so says he to his comrade, "Sound the
""
SPECIAL INQUIRIES, ETC.
337
gong, Jim. Bill's doing all the business." The gong not
proving sufficiently attractive, another ruse was resorted to,
with which I was mightily pleased. The showman sud-
denly appeared before the door of the show with a carter's
huge whip, threw his arms about as if to prevent something
or somebody coming out of the show. "Keep him back!
don't let him come out!" he cried, as he stood with his
shoulders to the door, while strange yells, and the usual
penny-show cry of wild men issued from inside. According
to the showman's account, the wild man had tried to make
his escape, and he announced that, after he had again been
properly secured, the public would be admitted to examine
him. This announcement immediately fetched Mr. Bartlett
and myself, who paid the whole price of one roomful in
order to get a private view of the wild man aforesaid.
The moment we entered the stuffy, pokey little fish-shop, a
mite of a girl, dressed in a very old shabby tinselled coloured
gown, began to explain the waxworks, which formed the
principal part of this show. She gabbled over the task of
explanation at a most tremendous rate. Her waxworks
consisted of a lady all in black with very long hair, and
glassy, staring eyes; several wax figures, male and female,
which might have been shown as anybody; a figure of a
very thin old man, and a human skeleton in a cupboard.
The child's gabble was something in this way: "Ladies
and gentlemen, this is the most interesting exhibition in
the 'ole of the Cattle Show, as you will perceive from the
figures outside. It have been visited by 6,248 people, and
they have all expressed their satisfaction. This," pointing
to the wax figure in black, "is the Turkish atrocity. She
Z
338
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
vas a lady of rank, and one day when she vent to church,
they cut her in two halves with a sharp sword, and took
one half of her to one side of the church, and the tother
half to the other. This is a hold man as starved hisself to
death in Lambeth. He was a miser, and after his death
they found a bag of money under his 'ead. These other is
all the best murderers as has been known to the public
for the last three years. This is the skeleton of Rosina
Watson, who throwed herself over Waterloo Bridge. She
have three hundred and sixty-five bones in her body, the
same as there is days in the year." This sharp-faced
bright-eyed little street Arab finished her oration thus-
"I have been privileged of going round the noble company
for coppers, and I hope the gentlemen will patronise me
and this 'ere show." We then asked for the wild man, who
was behind a curtain, which occasionally moved in a
mysterious manner. It appeared that the wild man had
been peeping through the curtain at us all the time, and,
when the girl had done speaking, he rushed out and shook
me by the hand, and claimed me as an old friend, who had
papered" (or written about) him for these last three Cattle
Show years. Bartlett, I, and the wild man immediately
fraternised. The wild man is a very ugly nigger, tremen-
dously strong, with a huge mouth, white teeth, and awful-
looking eyes. He gets his living by making hideous faces
-his gorilla face is capital-and by his extraordinary
voice, which is more like the bellowing of a bull than
anything else; hence I believe his professional sobriquet of
"Leather mouth Jemmy." The other accomplishments of
the wild man are, I believe, that of biting off the heads of
live rats and eating their bodies, dancing on red-hot irons,
66
SPECIAL INQUIRIES, ETC.
339
and drinking spoonfuls of lighted naphtha; so that al-
together he is a very accomplished wild man.
'In the next-door show was a "feather-bodied woman,
half bird, half fish." "She is alive, alive, alive." A greater
untruth could not have been told; nevertheless we entered
with the crowd. The history of the remarkable lady was,
that she was found sitting on a desolate rock, in the middle
of Australia; she was then half dead and half alive. She
was discovered by an American traveller, who took her to
America, where she lived for fifteen months. The explan-
ation over, the fellow opened a very rickety old box, and
displayed a hideous, faded wax figure, consisting of a
creature with the tail made of a hake's skin, a feather-
covered body, the features of a monster, and the beak of an
eagle. He would not give us a minute of time to examine,
but slammed to the box with "The exhibition is now
concluded, and thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for your
patronage."
The
'In the next show was exhibited the "Irish Prize
Wonder," a hideous fat woman, who could hardly waddle.
This is a new fat woman, for I have known nearly all the
fat women, but the picture outside is the same that has
served for exhibition for many previous fat women.
weight of this" Irish wonder" was said to be forty stone.
-that is, 560 lb. The "Indescribable Female" and the
"Indiarubber Man was the next show we went to.
According to the showman's account, the "Indescribable
Female" had escaped for refuge to a cave, where the lime
encrusted all round her and "kivered up her bones."
After a long story, very well told, he brought out the dried
body of a child about five years old, minus one leg and
""
z 2
340
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
one arm.
Common mortar had been placed upon it here
and there to represent the lime from the cave. The
"Indiarubber Man" was a gymnast, who did everything
except carry his body in the position it was originally
intended it should assume.
'Those who do not condescend to go into what I call
the "Poor man's market," especially on a Saturday night
in the streets of London, can have no idea what ingenuity
and perseverance is shown by these "miserables" (but yet
I trust happy "miserables") to procure a subsistence.
Thus, outside the Cattle Show, was a noble-looking old
fellow who was selling "The Queen for a penny." I
bought a pocketful of statues representing Her Most
Gracious Majesty. The statue stands on a black pedestal
with black velvet lining, and is covered with an oval glass
about two inches high; it is really a very neat affair. I
have examined the statue. The Queen is made of thin
wax, but really the statue is not bad at all. The old man
also had statues of Napoleon, the Sultan, the Emperor of
Germany, &c. all at one penny.
potentate at the price?
Who would not be a
'Some poor ragged urchins were selling penny cards,
called the Christmas puzzle. On the card was represented
a big oak tree, and three men under the tree, with guns.
The puzzle is to find a bird and a dog, made by the
branches of the tree. This is certainly a puzzle, but, when
made out, a pheasant and a setter-dog are quite apparent
in outline among the branches of the oak.
"A roasting-jack, or a toast-maker, for a penny," is the
cry of a poor woman, whose husband is now toiling at
home, to make the goods for his half-starved wife to sell.
SPECIAL INQUIRIES, ETC.
341
""
A "water magnifying glass for a penny. This is a
bulb of thin glass full of clear water. It has a splendid
magnifying power. The "Old Obadiah and the young
Obadiah" for two pence; two tin figures sitting on a quasi-
velocipede, two wheels with half a bullet between the
wheels. These figures do very funny things, and you can't
upset the riders. The weight is put exactly in the right
place. I believe the Moncreiff guns are mounted exactly
on the principle of "the two Obadiahs."
'At the last year's Cattle Show I bought a real telephone
for a penny. It consisted of two broad rings of tin, covered
over with dried parchment or dried drum-bladder, like a
drumhead. A length, some six or eight yards, of cotton,
formed a communication between the two parchments, and
conveyed the sound of whispering into the hollow of the
parchment ring.
'I confess I like the "cheap jacks," the "wild beast
shows," the "talking fishes," the "elephant horses," the
"edible dogs,” the "monster pigs, dwarfs, and giants," the
"living skeletons," the "indiarubber dogs," the brass
bands, the clowns, the gongs, the row, the chaff, the true
Cockney "argot," i.e. provincialism, often exceedingly
clever. So "A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year
to the poor showmen, and good luck to their wondrous
exhibits, the inspection of which has afforded me, and
doubtless thousands of visitors, great amusement and fun'
342
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
CHAPTER XIV.
SEA FISHERIES, BIRD MIGRATIONS, ETC.: 1878.
IN 1878 Frank Buckland and Mr. Walpole were appointed
Commissioners to inquire into the condition of the sea
fisheries of England and Wales, which contribute so
largely to the food of the people.
Above a hundred million soles are yearly sold in the
London market alone, with fifty million plaice and whiting,
and ten million eels, besides other fish.
The inquiry lasted from March to December 1878, and
was resumed in 1879, and extended to the Isle of Man
in August 1879, the Commissioners' report being presented
in September 1879.
The inquiry proved the almost illimitable wealth of our
sea fisheries, whose conditions are contrasted to those of
the salmon fishery. The salmon fishery, confined to
the rivers, is dependent on freedom of passage, and is
capable of extinction. The ocean fishery is so vast, that
man can but little affect it. No regulations were found
needful for the protection of sea-fish, but only for the
prevention of disputes among the fishermen ; and, notwith-
standing the vast quantity of fish annually caught, there
was no evidence of a falling off of the supply.
To this report Frank Buckland appended a history of
SEA FISHERIES, BIRD MIGRATIONS, ETC.
343
British fish used as food, with observations on the bed of
the ocean, which is their home; and on their food, growth,
structure, and migration.
(
The editing of White's 'Natural History of Selborne,"
in 1875, with its varied original notes, had directed Frank
Buckland's attention especially to the habits of birds. In
1877 and 1878 a series of papers appeared in ‘Land and
Water' and the Daily News,' containing observations
he had made or collected upon the vernal and autumnal
migrations of birds. By these papers he designed not.
only to record facts of natural history, but to encourage in
others the like habits of observation. Few dwellers in
London (except the bird-catchers) are aware of the number
and variety of birds, which haunt the neighbouring woods
and fields, and offer a constant source of interest, to those
who would study their habits, or listen to their song.
'March. The annual migration of birds to this
country has now begun. The two first arrivals have been
the wheatear and the chiff-chaff; these come from the
South of France. The wheatear locates himself on heaths
and common lands, his favourite resort on arrival being
the South Downs. According to some, the name of
wheatear is derived from the plumage of this bird, which
in the spring carries a white tuft on either side of the
head. It has been said that the females come a fortnight
before the males; but Mr. Davy, the well-known bird-
dealer, has always found that the hens arrive at the same
time as the cocks. The London bird-catchers take the
wheatear by a meal-worm or maggot in a robin trap,
which is placed on a small hillock, as the habit of the bird
is to fly from hillock to hillock. The wheatear is splendid
344
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
eating; and, before the new Act, great numbers were caught
about Eastbourne, by snares made of horsehair. Before
the days of railways they were sent pickled to London.
The wheatear feeds on small beetles and flies, which are
found on downs where wild thyme is abundant. They
breed in the month of May, in the neighbourhood of
quarries. The nest is a simply made structure, and the
eggs are light blue.
'The chiff-chaff, a merry little bird, may be seen and
heard on sharp, frosty mornings, sitting in the top of a
willow, the frost not seeming to take any effect on him. The
name is taken from the song " Chiff-chaff, chiff-chaff." The
bird-catchers call them the "chinkey-chank." They feed
on minute insects, and are among the earliest to arrive
and last to leave, sometimes staying till November,
though usually leaving in October. The nest of these
birds is a little oven-shaped structure, and in some parts.
these birds are known as 66
oven-builders." They are found
all over England.
'Coming up lately from Bridgewater by the Great
Western, I kept a good look-out for birds. Starlings were
in flocks. The jackdaws were making a great noise, and
very busy getting their nests ready, about the towers of
Exeter Cathedral. All the way along the line from Taun-
ton to Paddington the rooks were sitting on the tops of
the trees, and in many cases the hens were sitting on
their eggs. The last rookery I saw was in the Marylebone
Road, where there were sixteen nests.
'There is round the base of the rook's bill a white skin.
It is said by some that the feathers have been worn off on
this part by digging in the ground. My opinion is that it
SEA FISHERIES, BIRD MIGRATIONS, ETC.
345
is naturally devoid of feathers, though it is curious to
observe that the young rooks have feathers at the base of
the bill, which afterwards disappear. The ravens and
jackdaws retain the feathers at the base of the bill all their
lives.
'Moles and rooks are great devourers of wireworms.
I obtained this information from a merchant in ginger-
bread-nuts, at Harting, Sussex, who was a great authority
on moles. He tends cows for a contractor, who keeps
a great many of these animals to make concentrated
milk for the navy. The moles are of great service;
they eat up the worms which eat the grass, and wher-
ever the moles have been, afterwards the grass grows
luxuriantly. When the moles have eaten all the grubs
and worms in one place, they migrate to another, and
repeat their gratuitous work. The grass where the moles
have been is always the best for cows. The rooks also help
to keep down the wireworms. I think it would puzzle
some philosophers, to explain how the supply of milk to
the navy depended upon the abundance or absence of rooks
and moles.
'Dormice, I learn, are very abundant in Lord Ports-
mouth's woods at Eggesford, Devon. The woodmen
working in the plantations often find their nests; they
are composed of round balls made of grass and moss, and
are attached to twigs of low bushes; they much re-
semble the wren's nest, and are about the size of a cricket-
ball. In very hard weather the door is shut up entirely;
they sleep four or five months during the year. Just now
the dormice are waking up. If a dormant mouse is
found, and is gradually thawed, either by the hand or by
346
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
the fire, he gives a sharp squeak at the moment of awaken-
ing.
'As the spring months come on, great opportunities for
observing living creatures will be given to naturalists,
both in town and country.
'My laughing jackass has woke up considerably
this last week, and he now laughs loudly about every half-
hour; the noise he makes can be heard at a great distance.
(
April. Mr. Davy has brought me news of the arrivals
of British migratory birds for the spring. As regards the
nightingale, he informs me that two fine males were taken
in Surrey on April 7, and several more on the 9th: this is
eight days earlier than the usual arrival of the nightingale.
About April 15 the nightingale's song will be heard in
any year, in a suitable place, let the weather be what it
will. Those who wish to test this should go to the neigh-
bourhood of Hampstead, where at the setting of the sun,
or early morning, nightingales may at this date almost cer-
tainly be heard. It is a curious fact, that as soon as the
male nightingale arrives, he settles down at once in a
suitable place for nesting, and immediately commences his
song: this is called by the catchers being "laired," i.e.
taken to a "lair," and the birds are to be caught in
the immediate locality of their lair, any day afterwards
during the season. Johnson defines "lair" to mean
"the couch of a boar or wild beast."
Out of the ground uprose,
As from his lair, the wild beast, where he wends.
But range the forest by the silver side
Of some cool stream, where nature shall provide
Green grass and fattening clover for your fare,
And mossy caverns for your noontide lair.
SEA FISHERIES, BIRD MIGRATIONS, ETC.
347
'The nightingale is a very simple-minded bird, and
easily taken with a bait of common maggots or meal
worms. If a nightingale is caught off his lair before the
hens arrive, the place is frequently taken by another male
within four and twenty hours; showing that the place they
have chosen is suitable to their nature. If two male
nightingales meet on the same lair, a fight ensues, and
one beats the other off. The males, as a rule, arrive eight
or ten days before the females, which seems to indicate
a provision of nature, that the husband shall find a home
for his wife. The nest of the nightingale is principally com-
posed of dried oak leaves and grass, and as a rule the pair
produce five young ones. If they rear these young ones,
they do not breed again. If the nest is taken, they generally
go to nest the second time.
Jackdaws and some other birds resemble the night-
ingales in this respect; if young jackdaws are left in
the nest till they are a fortnight old, the old ones will
not breed again that year. In many parts of the country
where jackdaws abound, men go round with ladders on
a special day and take the young birds from the nests;
they are very good eating, cooked like young rooks. Jack-
daws, when they have young, are much in the habit of
robbing the nests of common sparrows of their
young, to
feed their own young ones: the sparrows have no means
of protecting themselves, but the call of fear, for which the
jackdaw does not care. If kept in captivity jackdaws are
very fond of small birds, dead or alive, and would nip a
sparrow's head off in a moment.
'Among other arrivals within the last fortnight are the
titlarks or the pipits (Anthus arboreus); they have come
348
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
in large numbers; these, like the nightingale, "lair"
immediately on their arrival. The titlark is sought for
for improving the song of canaries and linnets. Nestling
linnets are reared in the company of the titlark; the
titlark has a song which is called "wheeting and fearing,"
and the linnet being a bird which takes a song very freely,
soon learns to "wheet and fear" from the titlark. These
trained birds are called "toy linnets" because they have an
artificial song.
Blackcaps have also arrived, and may be heard singing
in tolerable quantities round London: these differ from
the nightingale and titlark, inasmuch as the cocks and
hens arrive at the same time.
'On first arriving they frequent the woods, and feed
upon the ivy, of which they are very fond in the
autumn they play havoc among the currants and rasp-
berries. The blackcap's song resembles, and is often
mistaken for, that of the nightingale, and for this reason it
is called the Norfolk, or mock nightingale. The nest of the
blackcap is a very simple, rough nest, like that of the
larger and lesser whitethroat. The male blackcap takes
his turn at sitting, and will allow himself to be taken off
the nest.
'All migratory birds appear to be found in the suburbs,
or within a radius of ten miles of London, earlier than in
any other part of the country. Londoners, therefore,
have no excuse for not knowing the notes of birds, having
every opportunity of listening to their song.
'September. While the inhabitants of this great city
are fast asleep, during the dark nights that occur generally
about this period of September, many wonderful events
SEA FISHERIES, BIRD MIGRATIONS, ETC.
349
are going on high up in the air, far above our heads. Of
the nature and cause of these phenomena the general
public are little aware. The noises proceeding from the
numerous creatures, that are passing over our towns in
mid-air, during the darkness of the night, would in former
days have probably been put down to the supernatural
agency of ghosts and goblins. Observation, however, has
taught us that the mysterious forms, shadows and cries
proceed from flocks of migratory birds, passing from one
part of the earth's surface to another. More especially
when the clear and frosty nights come on, may be heard
in the sky the rush of the wings, and the wild cries of
various water-birds, such as wild duck, wild geese and
other water-fowl, as they are passing from the northern to
the more southern regions. Previous to speaking of the
general migration of the northern water-fowl, we propose
to notice the effect of the weather, which has occurred lately
upon the smaller "soft meat "-that is, "insect-eating "
birds. The late gales of wind and cold nights have
dispersed and destroyed the insect food, such as moths,
beetles, flies, caterpillars, &c., upon which these birds
fatten previously to their departure to spend the winter in
more southern climates than our own. The late winds have
also made havoc on the soft dead-ripe fruit—such as pears,
plums, elder-berries, nightshade-berries, &c.—upon which
some of these birds feed. These two causes have induced
many of our migratory birds to leave us before their usual
time. The birds that have already left this country are as
follows: Swift, nightingale, grasshopper warbler, sedge
warbler, reed warbler, wood wren, garden warbler, wryneck,
cuckoo. The turtle dove and common shrike have also left.
350
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
The birds that are now fast taking their departure are as
follows: Redstart, whinchat, wheatear, blackcap, white-
throat, chiff-chaff, willow-wren, yellow wagtail, tree pipit,
meadow pipit, goat-sucker. During the past summer
insect life has been very scarce, but, nevertheless, this fact
has had no perceptible effect upon the numbers or breeding
of these birds.
'At the same time that the above-mentioned birds are
shifting their habitation, others are beginning to arrive
from the far north. These are the missel thrush, fieldfare,
redwing, woodlark, song thrush, blackbird, snow bunting,
bramble finch, siskin, twite, and redpole, &c. The night-
shade-berries and blackberries are very plentiful this year,
and bullfinches are feeding upon them in the lanes and
hedges. Kingfishers are very abundant this autumn, and
may now be seen about the brooks, ponds, and lakes in the
neighbourhood of London. This is the time of year that
these beautiful birds take their flight from their breeding
places and fishbone-made nests in the holes of water-side
banks. A kingfisher was lately seen on the Serpentine,
and it is not at all improbable that when the parks are
quiet, and people are not moving about, they may be
observed about the Kensington Gardens waters, at the
northern end of the Serpentine. A great many kingfishers
are at this time of year taken by means of the flue net.
This is a net of light structure, suspended across brooks;
in their rapid flight the birds do not see the nets, and
get caught in the meshes. When the woodcocks are
migrating to this country from Norway, considerable
numbers are caught in this way, by light nets suspended
in the line of their flight. The reasons that prompt the
SEA FISHERIES, BIRD MIGRATIONS, ETC.
351
migratory British birds to venture over vast tracks of
land, and over large seas, knowing, as they certainly do,
the proper times for their passage, when to come and when
to go, are by no means clear. Nor indeed has it been
ascertained for a certainty to what countries they resort
during the winter months; it is well known, however,
that they go gradually southwards to the French, Spanish,
and Italian shores of the Mediterranean. In some in-
stances they cross the Mediterranean Sea to Egypt and
the shores of Northern Africa; some go even as far as
Central Africa.
'When these birds are on their perilous journeys of
so many hundred miles, fogs and adverse winds frequently
cause great destruction among them. Not very long ago
large numbers of British migratory birds were found floating
in the sea, dead, off the Eddystone Lighthouse. It is pro-
bable that during their night journey from the Devonshire
shores a fog overtook them, and that the bright light pro-
ceeding from the lantern of the lighthouse attracted them,
and so stupefied them that they dashed themselves against
the thick glass, and were killed in large numbers. The
fishermen who trawl for turbot, soles, skate, &c., on the
Varne and Ridge banks between Dover and Calais, not
unfrequently hear the sound of flocks of migratory birds
flying overhead.
'The speed at which birds can go, when on their migra-
tory flight, has been noticed. Quails are said to accom-
plish a hundred and fifty miles in a night, and undi-
gested African seeds and plants have been found in the
crops of these birds when they reach the French coast.
Ducks are reported to be able to fly fifteen hundred miles
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
at one flight, and the pace of the swallow and martin
is put down at about nine hundred miles in twenty-four
hours. Linnets and other seed-eating birds have been
known to settle on the masts and rigging of ships far
away from land out at sea. They will take their night's
rest on the rigging, and, when leaving the ship, know
exactly in which direction to continue their flight. It is
said, that the migration of birds will foretell severe weather,
and it is well known by the bird-catchers, that when the
larks and other northern birds appear, snow and hard
weather will follow the flight. These warnings of migra-
tory birds, though apparently insignificant, may be of vast
political and even national importance. If the Emperor
Napoleon, when on the road to Moscow with his army in
1811, had condescended to observe the flights of storks
and cranes passing over his fated battalions, subsequent
events in the politics of Europe might have been very
different. These storks and cranes knew of the coming on
of a great and terrible winter, the birds hastened towards
the south, Napoleon and his army towards the north.
'October. Most of the northern birds due in the
middle of October have arrived. All the summer migrants
have gone except a few house swallows. The London
bird-catchers have lately had large takes of the brown
linnet, common redpole, greenfinches, yellowhammers,
siskins, goldfinches, and mountain or tree-sparrows. The
flights of birds arriving from the north are as follows:
Hawfinches, goldfinches, chaffinches, siskins, mountain
sparrows, twites, brambling, bullfinches, brown linnets,
woodlarks, redwings, blackbirds, thrushes, and stony red-
poles. The stony redpole has skipped these coasts for the
SEA FISHERIES, BIRD MIGRATIONS, ETC.
353
last two or three years, but many have been taken during
the past week. Ring-ousels have been very scarce this
autumn. The northern larks, fieldfares, and snow bunt-
ings have not yet been seen, as it is still early in the
season for them.
The various kinds of titmice, such as the tom-tit or
ox-eye, blue-tit, cole-tit, and marsh-tit, are very plentiful
about the suburbs of London. The nuthatch, little tree-
creeper, common wren, the golden-crested wren, and long-
tailed titmouse are also plentiful, and may be seen by
any ordinary observer about the borders of woodsides and
copses near London. These last-named birds frequent the
same localities, and are especially fond of parts of the
country where firs and yews abound; they do not seem
to have increased or varied in numbers for the last thirty
years, although very seldom trapped in nets, caught with
birdlime, or killed by gunners, being useless except as
specimens for the cabinet.
'The hooded or Royston crow has been noticed on the
marshes below Gravesend. These birds are generally
observed first at Flamborough Head, in Yorkshire, which
is the great arrival station of many autumnal migratory
birds proceeding south from Norway, Sweden, &c. At
Flamborough Head many of our autumnal visitors have been
seen: scores of blackbirds, thrushes, crested wrens, and
owls. These owls were probably bred in the rocks in the
vicinity of Flamborough.
'Woodcocks are also beginning to arrive at Flam-
borough. These birds subsist during the summer months
on the larvæ of the mosquitos and other insects that breed
in the extensive marshes of Norway and Sweden. The
A A
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
moonlight nights and easterly winds have been especially
favourable for the arrival of birds from the north. At
Flamborough the blue rock doves are also very plentiful.
These birds are found nearly all the world over; they will
not breed in captivity. At this time they feed on the
stubbles, and do much good by eating up the charlock seed,
which is their favourite food. These blue rocks must not
be confounded with the blue rocks used for pigeon-shooting
from the trap. Linnets and greenfinches also eat large
quantities of charlock seed, feeding in flocks on the stubble
lands.
During the late foggy evenings numbers of the
common mouse-eared bat have been seen about the streets
in the north part of London. It is difficult to know on
what these bats are feeding, as there is very little insect
food now to be had.
'The common garden or geometric spider is now to be
seen abundantly in our gardens. They are now fed up
and are depositing their eggs: their nests are to be
found under fences and posts; the eggs are beautifully
packed away by the mother spider in an elegant silky web
or covering. After depositing the eggs the spiders
become very weak, and are easily snapped up by the
sparrows and tits. Again, these spiders' eggs afford food
during the winter months for various small birds.
'The threads of the gossamer or aeronautic spider may
be now seen in bright calm weather. It is supposed that
these spiders ascend into the air by means of long delicate
silky threads, which they shoot upwards into the air; but
on this subject further observations are desirable. The
silk-like webs of the gossamer spider are most noticeable
SEA FISHERIES, BIRD MIGRATIONS, ETC.
355
on dewy mornings, as the moisture then adheres to them
and gives them an appearance of frosted silver.
'December.-During the past fortnight great changes
have been going on among the wild birds of this country.
Towards the middle and end of November, the bird-catchers
always expect what they designate the "November flight
of linnets." This great flight began this year about
November 15. On the 24th and 25th very large takes of
linnets were made by the London and suburban catchers.
The men get their nets laid before daybreak. As soon as
it is light the birds appear: they come in flocks of from
two to three hundred; the call birds "charge," and give
the catchers notice that the birds are coming, before they
can be seen by the men. As many as five dozen have
been taken at one pull of the clap-net this year. Although
so many linnets are captured annually, there has been no
general diminution noticed in their numbers. These birds
are mostly bred on the wild gorse lands, especially in
Scotland: they are very prolific, and have three to four
nests each season, producing from fifteen to twenty young.
When this linnet migration from the north takes place,
the bird-catchers know that some wild weather is coming
behind them. This has been justified by the recent
cold and winterly rain. The linnets, when arriving at the
south of England, disperse themselves over the stubbles,
"clover lays," and "fed offs," eating large quantities of
charlock and other wild seeds, which otherwise would be
injurious to the farmer. The large takes of these birds
have glutted the bird market. Before the flight cock
linnets were worth from four to five shillings a dozen,
now they are only fetching eighteenpence to two shillings.
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
A very rare bird has been taken among the linnets at
Highgate, namely, a hybrid between a common greenfinch
and brown linnet.
'Goldfinches are now becoming very scarce, on account of
the cultivation of land exterminating the thistles. This year,
for the first time, the bird-catchers have gone expressly to
Ireland, and have sent large takes of goldfinches thence into
the London market. During the autumn goldfinches were
abundant; the reason of this may be attributed to the pro-
visions of the Bird Preservation Act. At this time of year the
goldfinches lie up in quiet feeding places, and remain there
as long as the food lasts; they will not be seen on flight
again until April. The siskins, chaffinches, bramble-
finches, and hawfinches that came in the last Michaelmas
flight, and located themselves where food was abundant,
are now gone, and the bird-catchers cannot find their where-
abouts. In all probability they will not appear again on
flight until the middle or end of February. Fieldfares,
redwings and missel-thrushes have arrived in large quan-
tities, and are to be found about the environs of London
so long as they can find food; they are very wary birds,
but the moment frost and snow set in they are very easily
approached. The redwing of all the thrushes is the most
duck-hearted; he will soon succumb to the cold, even
when the berry food is abundant; he cannot exist long
without "ground food," that is, worms and insects. Bull-
finches are still plentiful, there being abundance of food for
them, such as old blackberries, privet berries, and dock
seed; but they do not begin on the privet berries as a rule
until after the frost has touched them. The aberdevines,
or siskins, have entirely disappeared, the cause being that
SEA FISHERIES, BIRD MIGRATIONS, ETC.
357
there is no alder seed this year; these birds subsist almost
entirely on alder seed during their stay here in the winter,
and never breed in this country except the north of
Scotland. The Scotch larks are unusually abundant in
England this season; they locate themselves on the clover
and grass lands, where they are taken by thousands on dull
nights with trammel nets. At this time of year they
are sold dead indiscriminately, both cocks and hens, just
as they are caught. By the end of January the catchers
can find ready purchasers of the live cock birds. The
price of cock larks then rises monthly up to the end of
April. In January they fetch four shillings a dozen, in
April there is a ready market at twelve shillings a dozen.
'Wood-pigeons are very numerous this winter, and large
numbers are now in the London market. Just now they
are in the very finest condition, and are regular "lumps
of meat." They are very good for table when stuffed
with sage and onions and roasted like ducks. When the
severe weather sets in, the damage that will be done to
the farmers by wood pigeons will be alarming; they will
destroy large quantities of swedes and turnips, spoiling
more than they eat. These birds peck out the heart of
the green part in the centre of the turnip; in doing this
they make a deep hole, the water then gets in, and the
turnips are destroyed by the first frost. This year there
are no beech-nuts; the wood-pigeons, therefore, will more
than ever make inroads among the turnips. Wood-pigeons
also do much damage to the vetches grown for early lamb-
feeding.'
An interesting article was also written in this year on
the 'Evidence of Design in Birds' Eggs.'
358
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND.
'It is my constant endeavour to discover in all created
things evidence of the design of the Creator. I find
written in my copy of Paley's "Evidences" a capital
quotation formularising this idea :--"Can a clock go
without a weight or spring to move it, or a keeper to set
it ?"
'I think I have now a new fact-at least new to me-
to prove design in the formation of birds' eggs. It was
casually mentioned to me by Mr. Edon, curator of my
Fish Museum, South Kensington. He has remarked a
very striking difference in the shape and form of the
eggs of birds, which build in nests or holes, as contrasted
with the shape of the eggs of those birds which build on
flat surfaces. The kingfisher will place her eggs at a
considerable depth in the earth in rats' holes, sand-martin's
holes, etc. Her eggs are nearly round. The owl builds
in holes in trees, etc., and her eggs are perfectly round.
The long-tailed tit builds in a very deep nest; her eggs
are also round. The reason of this is that the eggs shall
pack well in the nest, and all of them get a share of the
warmth from the mother's body as well as ventilation.
'Birds that lay their eggs in holes, as noted above, have
round eggs.
There are, however, certain birds which
incubate their eggs without any nest at all, upon the
ledges of rocks. In this position it is very possible that
danger would occur to the egg, by being accidentally moved
by the parent bird, or may be by the wind. If the egg
was round, it would very probably roll off the precipice,
and, falling to the bottom, be smashed. In this case, of
course, there would be no bird. Let us now see how the
difficult problem of the preservation of this egg is managed
SEA FISHERIES, BIRD MIGRATIONS, ETC,
359
by creative wisdom. The egg of the guillemot, to take a
good example, is not round, but elongated at one end; the
consequence is, that when it is touched the egg will not
roll away like a billiard-ball, but it will simply turn round
upon its own axis. This peculiar structure can be seen,
and the action of the force upon the egg illustrated, by a
very simple experiment. Take a common screw, and place
it near the edge of the table; touch it gently, so as to set
it in motion. You will observe that the screw, instead of
running off the edge of the table, will simply turn round
on its small end-its own axis. I cannot conceive anything
more beautiful, than this arrangement of the eggs of birds,
which build on ledges of rocks, and which are very liable
to destruction. This fact will, I think, afford excellent
evidence (if more witnesses were required) to show creative
skill even in such simple things as birds' eggs.'
Further correspondence followed in 'Land and Water,
which confirmed the rule generally, with some apparent
exceptions, as in the case of the dipper which lays pear-
shaped eggs like most wading birds, although its nest is
deep-domed, like a gigantic long-tailed tit's nest. The
eggs of the guillemot, the razorbill, and the puffin are
pear-shaped, in proportion to the exposed position of their
nests. The guillemot lays in the most exposed situation
of the three, and has by far the most pear-shaped egg;
the razorbill, which does not lay in quite such exposed
situations, has a rounder egg; whilst the puffin, which
always lays in holes, often in rabbit-holes, has the roundest
egg of the three, in shape more like a hen's egg. The
oyster-catcher usually makes its nest in a slight hollow
lined with stones, and lays four eggs, with the narrow
360
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
ends inwards, thereby perfectly secured against the wind;
they do not taper so much as the single egg of the guille-
mot, neither is it necessary, as the small stones and shells,
together with the position of the eggs, being four, disposed
with their small ends inwards, prevent any possibility of
their rolling.
A lecture before the Sanitary Institute on the pollution
of rivers as affecting pisciculture, followed by a soirée at his
Museum, were among the incidents of 1878; but earnest
devotion to pisciculture, the serious business of his life, and
to natural history, its chief enjoyment, was united with a
passion for every natural curiosity and oddity.
The various exhibitions at the Westminster Aquarium
attracted his constant attention, and successive articles
were written, not only on the Fishery Exhibition there in
1877, for his contributions to which he received a gold
medal, and at which he met Lord Beaconsfield, but also on
the Laplanders, Benedetti the sword-swallower, the white
whale, Pongo the gorilla, and other outlandish beings.
Strange folk visited him, on strange errands, and his
occupations were a strange concatenation.
The Chinese ambassador called, and was taught how to
cast fish.
The Chief Rabbi sought his advice, whether Jews might
lawfully eat oysters, and Frank Buckland, in turn, con-
sulted Dean Stanley on the interpretation of Moses' law
as to things that creep, and pondered the question, Do
oysters creep? The decision was against the oysters.
One morning he held a large meeting at his Museum,
to receive Mr. Mundella, and enlighten him on fishery
questions. In the evening he went to Brighton, and
SEA FISHERIES, BIRD MIGRATIONS, ETC.
361
prescribed for the sea lioness. Another morning he gave
evidence before the Committee on Mr. Mundella's Bill. In
the afternoon he welcomed the white whale on his arrival
in London, and helped to put him into his tank at the
Westminster Aquarium.
This variety of visitors culminated in a party given by
him in Albany Street, in November 1878; men of science
and art and social rank were there in plenty, with dealers
in wild animals, bird-fanciers, and fishermen. The Chinese
ambassador's peacock's feather nodded above them all. A
special selection of many different kinds of oyster had been
prepared, to illustrate their variety, and grace the entertain-
ment; but, unluckily, the Chinese ambassador met them
coming upstairs, and before anyone could find words or
signs to describe their scientific rarity, devoured them all.
(
His home life at this time was thus graphically de-
scribed in an article in the World,' on Mr. Frank Buckland
as one of the 'Celebrities at Home.'
"It's a jolly little brute, and won't hurt," exclaimed Mr.
Buckland, as we were about to retreat from the threshold.
The monkeys had seized the jaguar's tail, and lifting it up
with its hind legs bodily to the altitude of their cage,
were rapidly denuding it of fur. No animal with any
feelings of self-respect would submit silently to such humi-
liation, and the jaguar was making the place hideous with
his yells.
'Hearing the cries of her pet, Mrs. Buckland came to
the rescue, and it was amusing to see this child of the
forest, with gleaming eyes and frantic yelps, cast itself at
her feet, and nestle meekly in the folds of her dress; she
had nursed it through a very trying babyhood, when Mr.
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
Bartlett had sent it from the Zoo, apparently dying and
paralysed in the fore-legs, with a promise of 157. reward for
a cure. That sum has long since been swallowed up, in
damages for clothes destroyed and boots devoured, as the
invalid's health and appetite returned.
'Hard by a laughing jackass was sportively chasing
live mice up and down a glass jar, as an appetiser before
eating them; and below, solemnly weighing the doctrine.
of chances, a battalion of cats waited patiently what
might befall.
At a front window, an intelligent parrot
kept calling cabs from the moment we entered, and
was equally ready to hail an omnibus if we preferred
it. A peaceably disposed piebald rat was enjoying gym-
nastic exercises on a pole, until seized by his master and
told to "Sing up, old boy." Held suddenly to our ear,
melodious notes were heard issuing from the diaphragm,
which Mr. Buckland considers as good as the carol of a
lark, whether it arises from a parasite in the liver or not.
All around, the walls were covered with the heads of
curious hybrids, and horns of extinct animals, and, indeed,
there was everything in this wonderful museum to fascinate
the mind, from a shoe left as a keepsake by Brice the
giant, to a lady's slipper floating about in a wine-glass of
water. The latter was a beautiful little object like a
fairy glass slipper, about an inch long, without heels and
exquisitely fringed off. It belongs to the jelly-fish tribe,
and was alive and well when we saw it.
"The "happy family" life, of which Mr. Buckland is
the centre, is carried on in an ordinary London house,
formerly the home of Charles Dickens' father-in-law, Mr.
Hogarth, in Albany Street, Regent's Park. In their time,
SEA FISHERIES, BIRD MIGRATIONS, ETC.
363
the room, into which we were ushered, was probably the
drawing-room. At first, during the present tenancy, it
used to be called "Master's room"; now it is termed the
"monkey room," which Mr. Buckland remarks, "is Darwin
going backwards." The dining-room is indeed the one
room preserved, but with difficulty, for the sole use of
man. It is held, so to speak, at the sword's point, against
the incursions of animals from the neighbouring jungle.
Sometimes the rule is relaxed in cases of sickness, or on the
arrival of a welcome little stranger, like the jaguar. It is
to this room that all good animals expect to go, in a stuffed
form, when they die. It is regarded as a "Poets' Corner"
for the great, while the bodies of the less distinguished are
consigned to honourable burial in the back garden. Mr.
Buckland was informed, lately, that there was not room
to bury so much as a bird there now. Some excellent
pictures adorn the walls of this room; one of Master
Frank, by Phillips," aged 3; born at Christ Church, Oxford,
December 17, 1826." He is characteristically portrayed
hugging a guinea-pig in his pinafore. A bust of Mr.
Buckland's father, the late Dean of Westminster, stands
on a table, which he and his wife purchased in Italy on
their wedding tour, and is composed of various marbles.
A handsome dish representing a salmon stands on the
same table, and was a gift from His Royal Highness Prince
Christian.
'Below all this we come upon the practical workings
of the scientific mine. Next to the kitchen and acces-
sible to the area is the casting-room, to which every-
thing extraordinary, whether from the depths of the sea or
the bowels of the earth, sooner or later gravitates. It is
364
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND.
here that a prodigious amount of work is done, and goes
forth, in the most finished state, to adorn the South Ken-
sington and other great museums, for the advancement of
science and education of the people. Round the walls are
ranged bottles, casks and jars, containing specimens in
every stage of what the naturalist might call preservation
and the ignorant decay. Enjoying the rare art of impart-
ing his knowledge to others, Mr. Buckland delights in
showing his treasures. Regardless of fearful odours, he
will plunge up to his elbows into a deep dark tank, and
draw forth a slimy dripping reptile, and ask cheerfully,
he is not a beauty." It requires a strong stomach and no
small diplomacy to know how to act, for he is ready, on a
word of encouragement, to make another fatal plunge and
bring up the other seven.
"if
But another joy awaits you-if you can bear it-in
a jar, when he carefully hauls out a ribbon fish, and tells
you it is the next of kin to the great sea-serpent. At that
moment, you heartily wish the great sea-serpent would bury
its own relations, but Frank does not, and anyone, who
would bring him the head of the family, would be his
friend for life. On the whole, Mr. Buckland prefers live
snakes about him, but he has not yet succeeded in getting
his household to agree with him. A live snake is con-
siderably worse than a pickled snake; seeing that the
latter, they find, is not so likely to be found under their
pillows.
'Perhaps the worst moments for the family are those
when the Parcels Delivery van drives up to the door. On
these occasions, there is a general closing of windows
observable in the neighbourhood, and the only light-hearted
SEA FISHERIES, BIRD MIGRATIONS, ETC.
365
creature within the zoological circle of Frank Buckland's
home just then is the persevering parrot, who takes the
credit of the van's arrival to himself. The Naturalist steals
out to survey the state of things, and if likely to be very
odorous, the man feels uneasy, while the husband, deep and
treacherous, drops a propitiatory sovereign into his wife's
hand, and recommends her to try a little shopping in some
distant region. Once it was a gorilla in a cask, and, when
his unfortunate wife returned to her home, she found Frank
in high spirits and the gorilla in even higher.
'Mr. Buckland's chief domestic grievance is the duster,
which he regards as a mischievous invention of women.
Household operations have consequently to be conducted
by stealth, and usually in his absence on official rounds as
Government Inspector of Fisheries. Not long ago he
returned home to find the giant's autograph washed off the
dining-room ceiling, and was in despair, but discovering the
row of postage stamps a foot or two above the door, mark-
ing the giant's height, he was, in a measure, consoled, and
fell back for comfort on the shoe still safe in the Museum.
'Mr. Buckland makes the scullery his chief atelier, and
shares the kitchen, when she will let him, with the cook.
This invasion of her premises she might not indeed take in
good part, but it mollifies her to see her master in his shirt-
sleeves doing the very dirtiest work, and she has long since
come to the conclusion that his place is far worse than hers:
--she deals, after all, with what is fit for human food, but
her master's whole time is devoted to skinning, dissecting,
pickling and poring over the bones of "beastesses," the like
of which no one could look at, let alone dress; yet her
master is so kindly and pleasant a gentleman, that she can-
366
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND.
not refuse sometimes when he asks for her help-not with
that Solan-goose, however, which master said, contained.
all the elements of a balloon; it nearly gave her a fit when
he made it cry out as if it was alive, and only by squeezing
what he called the "voice-box" at the bottom of the wind-
pipe.
'Let us stand by the kitchen-table for a few minutes,
while the master bustles to and fro over his work. He is
just now busily washing a splendid sturgeon, a "royal fish,”
which, properly dealt with, he declares, a cunning cook could
serve up as fish, flesh, fowl, or good red-herring. Quaint
and original must be many of the dishes which issue from
Mr. Buckland's kitchen. The long-suffering cook, were
she free to speak, might tell some strange tales of mistakes
inevitable, of young crocodiles boiled down for stock, of
food misapplied, and of diets given to the wrong animals.
Mr. Buckland's housekeeping books cover a wide range.
Not less peculiar than the fare provided by his kitchen,
is the company to be met with at his parties. It is his
especial delight to entertain celebrities on view in the
Town. This penchant makes him the idol of all the chil-
dren and stray waifs in the neighbourhood, who crowd
round the door when a party is expected, or clamber up the
railings to get a good view of the giant going in, or the
dwarf coming away. The due etiquette to be observed at
these feasts is at times perplexing. When Chinamen,
Aztecs, Esquimaux, or Zulus are the guests, the chief diffi-
culty is with the bill of fare; but the ceremonial becomes
complicated if Mrs. Buckland has to choose which arm to
take of the four owned by the Siamese Twins; nor are
matters put right by Mr. Buckland leading the way with
SEA FISHERIES, BIRD MIGRATIONS, ETC.
367
the Two-headed Nightingale; while much discussion was
needed to decide whether Mr. Buckland should hand in
Julia Pastrana (the hairy woman), or that personage, by
virtue of her beard, should take in the lady of the house.
Now and again other contretemps occur at these feasts. No-
thing could have been more appalling than what happened
when Mr. Buckland was honoured at dinner by Tomati
Hapiromani Wharinaki, and a number of New Zealand
chiefs. The party had adjourned to the monkey-room to
smoke the pipe of peace, when, for their amusement, the host
turned some six and thirty slow-worms out of a box. In-
stantaneously the guests were transformed; the garb of civi-
lisation slipped off, and they returned to the wild untutored
savage. With one frantic glance at the slow-worms on the
floor, they uttered wild yells and straightway fled. Down-
stairs the dining-room window was open, through this
they bounded helter-skelter into the garden, like hounds
breaking cover, and filling the air with a tapage d'enfer.
Thence they spread over the neighbouring gardens, taking
the low fences like deer. Two of them seeing another open
window, and at it a peaceable old lady at work, headed for
it, dashed in, and with their tattooed faces and awful cries
nearly were her death. By this time the whole parish
was up, a hue and cry organised, recruits joined from the
railings, and the fugitives were run safely to ground. It
appeared that they entertained a superstitious horror of
the slow-worm; to them it was the "Ngarara the
incarnation of the power of evil."
""
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
CHAPTER XV.
CONCLUSION: 1879-1880.
SALMON-EGG collecting,' Frank Buckland wrote in 1878,'
'is one of the most difficult, and I may say dangerous,
tasks that fall to my lot. Those only who have gone
through the difficulties of collecting these treasures can
know the anxiety connected with the task; neverthe-
less, in the second week of January 1878, I went at it
once more. The Government authorities of New Zealand
having expressed by telegram to Sir Julius Vogel, Agent-
General in London, their desire to have a further consign-
ment of salmon ova sent them this spawning season, I told
Sir Julius I would do my best for them, though it was
late, very late, this year to hope for much success.
In the collection of salmon eggs, as in every other
matter, the great rule is to take for granted that you will
find nothing anywhere. I therefore go fully prepared for
all eventualities. Here, then, is a list of my "spawning kit.”
First, the waterproof dress; this very useful garment is in
fact a diver's dress, and, when properly put on, admits not
a drop of water. It has, however, one fault, it is apt to
freeze when I am out of the water, and then one feels
encased, as it were, in a suit of inflexible armour. Second,
Notes and Jottings from Animal Life, p 66.
CONCLUSION
369
the spawning tins: long experience has shown me that the
best form of vessel in which to spawn fish is no paltry
little tin, but a bath large enough to bathe a good-sized
baby in. Third, a long shallow basket, to hold the salmon
immediately they are caught, such as ladies use to carry
their clothes when travelling; such a basket makes a capital
salmon cage.
It is easily sunk to the proper depth with
stones, and the salmon live well and do not fret in it. The
fish can remain alive in the water in this till they are wanted.
Fourth, house flannel, cut into lengths of one yard; this is
absolutely necessary to hold the struggling salmon. Those
who are unaccustomed to spawn salmon, have an awkward
habit of putting their fingers into the gills of the fish, and
if the fish's gills are injured and bleed, he suffers much
from it. I never to my knowledge killed a fish in my life
while spawning it. Fifth, dry towels; these are most.
necessary, as the slime from the salmon makes one's hands
very slippery, and it is a very bad thing to have slippery
hands, for you may lose a valuable fish in a moment t;
besides which wiping the hands warms them, and, when
working in the water at this time of year, the cold to the
hands and arms is fearful, or, to use the expression of the
cabmen, "all my fingers is thumbs." Sixth, bottles for
experiments with milt and ova. Seventh, "Sphagnum
moss, to pack the eggs in the tins and cans. Eighth,
wooden boxes, tied up in threes and fours, to pack eggs at
the river side. Ninth, a large landing net. This is very
useful for catching fugitive fish, which may happen to escape
round the side of the net. Tenth, nets; one long heavy
trammel, and two smaller trammels are best. Eleventh,
ordinary baggage, and especially a bottle of scented hair-oil,
BB
>>
370
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
with which to well anoint the chest and arms and tips of
the ears, when working in the water; a most excellent and
serviceable plan. I took this hint from the Esquimaux.
(
Thus equipped, I started for Newcastle, writing all
the way in the train, of course. Arrived at Newcastle, I
took the train to Chollerford. The next morning a drive.
of eleven miles to Bellingham, and thence by train to
Reedsmouth on the North Tyne. The main river of the
North Tyne was too heavy for us, no net could possibly
stand; so Harbottle, the head of the Tyne salmon watchers,
had judiciously made his first shot in the river Reed, just
above her junction with the North Tyne. He had marked
down several pairs of spawners on this bed, and hoped to
get the lot for me. We came up just in time to see our
assistants with very long faces. It appears that they had,
though the water was then running rapidly, got the net
across, and some fish in her; just as they were bringing
her round she caught on a rock, and immediately rolled
"leads over corks." Just at that moment there came a heavy
spate from above; the men on the bank could not hold the
net, and she straightened herself out beautifully, letting
every fish in the net, of course, escape. We managed,
however, to secure three half-spawned fish, from which we
got a few eggs.
'We then packed up the wet nets and the kit on a cart,
and marched off to a shallow in the North Tyne, about
a mile above; where we thought we might have luck.
During our walk thither, a regular winter's storm came on;
the telegraph wires sang out their music as if laughing at
us, and far away in the north was a jet-black angry-looking
cloud, showing that a heavy storm was gathering upon the
CONCLUSION
371
moors and great hills, that separate England from Scotland.
We had no time to lose, as we knew the rain from this
cloud would soon send North Tyne down in a heavy spate.
Turning off the highway, we passed down a hill to the river
bank, and then the cart with the nets went across the river,
while I waded over—not a very pleasant work in a rapid
rising river, with great rolling slippery boulders under one's
feet. However, we got to the island, and determined to
fish the stream on the other side of it. There was great
difficulty in getting the net across, the stream was so
strong and rapid. At last Harbottle and six men got her
over, and then beginning some fifty yards above, the
trammel was run down stream to her. Great was the
excitement, when we quickly perceived, from the bobbing
of the corks, that the fish in the spawning-bed were
masked in the trammel. She's a beautiful net is my
trammel, though some find fault with her. She's like
birdlime to a fish; let her once touch a fish's fin and she
has the rest of him pretty quickly. Down came the
trammel right into the net below in true orthodox style.
"Look alive, lads, round with them both on to the bank!”
Three fish! Instantly I was on to them as they kicked
about in the water. First male, second female, third male.
The males, fine big fish, with red coats on them as though
they were going to a Horse Guards' parade, and beaks on
the lower jaw enough to frighten one. The female, alas!
had not an egg in her; had done spawning long ago. As
I told Sir Julius Vogel, it was very late for eggs this year,
and I was right.
'While I was examining these fish, the river spared us
not; and I quickly observed that a bank of pebbles on
B B 2
372
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
which I had just been packing eggs was covered with
water. We were all, therefore, only too anxious to be off,
as a long stay on a desolate island, for a winter's night, in
the middle of the North Tyne, was not a pleasant prospect.
Several of the party got into the cart; the more the safer,
as the cart would be heavier in the water and less likely
to tip over. As I was waterproofed up to my neck, I
walked behind in the water, holding the cart-tail with one
hand, and the precious egg-can with the other. The man
whipped up the horse, and he managed to drag his heavy
load across the river, the old cart (already over the axles
in water) rolling about like a ship at sea, as the wheels
tipped up over the boulders below. At last we got
ashore all right. The cart then went back for the nets.
and the other men, some of whom waded, others rode
across.
'As we sat on the bank we saw the North Tyne gra-
dually rising. Lap, lap, came the little side waves to our
feet. The island on which we had been standing became
smaller and smaller, and at last down came North Tyne
with a mighty rush; the stones which a few minutes
before had caused the ripples and the "hovers," so dear to
salmon fishers, quickly ducked their heads under water;
and where there had been a loud-resounding rapid before,
there was now a swift, black, deep stream, running like
oil. This sudden spate was caused, of course, by our
friend the black storm on the hills. In this part of
Northumberland spates come on very quickly, owing to
the mountains being so steep, and the moors drained so
much more than they were in former years.
'With the spate in the river, came the storm upon us,
CONCLUSION
373
a regular spiteful gentleman fresh from the caves of Eolus,
iced rain, sleet, and snow. I was cold, very cold, but I
would not let it be seen. I felt my wet suit of waterproof
gradually freezing and becoming like a suit of armour,
especially about the arms and throat; so we packed up
and walked away as fast as we could, and got a sort of
shelter under a railway arch, where I managed, with the
help of a water bailiff, to get off the frozen dress; and then
for a walk-I hate walking-into Bellingham. As we went
along, a blacker cloud came over, and it began to snow,
not in nice heavy flakes, but little sharp cutting spikes
the size of peppercorns. The howling wind drove them
along like a volley from an infantry regiment.
At last we arrived at Bellingham, and on our way
home in the dog cart, a heavy winter snow-storm was on,
and kept on all night, The next morning everything,
from the distant hills down to the window sills, had put
on a white nightcap. We could see, with a telescope, the
river tumbling over Chollerford weir in the distance. We
at once concluded, that it would not be of the least use to
try for eggs, certainly not to-day, maybe many days, as all
that snow had to melt, and come down off the hills into
the river in the form of water. "Besides, Buckland," said
my host, "you're a fortnight or three weeks too late to get
the run of spawning salmon off the ridds." "Yes," I said;
"I know that, but when Sir Julius and the New Zea-
landers say Go and try,' of course I must go and try."
'So I packed up, waited half a day at a country
railway station, and got that night to Carlisle to try what
my old friends the salmon in the river Caldew had to
say.'
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LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
靡
​The quest for eggs was continued in the Caldew: the
season there proved also too late. 'But,' said Frank
Buckland, 'the word can't is not in my dictionary;' so
from the later rivers of Devonshire eggs were obtained,
which were finally packed in the ice-house on board the
'Chimborazo' at the West India Docks.
'Everyone carrying a box or two of eggs, we arrived
at the ice-house on board ship. Captain Smith opened it,
and when I looked in I perceived that a portion of the
bottom was covered with boxes of eggs and ice. These
were Mr. Youl's boxes, that he had packed some three or
four days previously. Searle and myself bundled through
the manhole of the ice-house, Captain Smith handed us
the boxes of eggs, and Searle and I shifted, with the ice-
axes and ice-forks, the great slippery blocks of ice on to the
top of our own boxes, filling up the interstices with broken
bits. When we first got into the ice-house it was jolly
cold, but we were so busy shifting the blocks of ice, that
we soon had no time to be cold. We trust these English
salmon eggs may be the parents of many salmon, which in
future years may become established at the Antipodes, to
the great increase of the wealth and prosperity of our
good friends in New Zealand.'
It was not alone the sudden rush of water, the wintry
'spate' of the North Tyne, which added danger to his
task. The long working in icy water, the clothes stiffened
with frost and chilled with driving sleet, undermined even
his strong constitution, and laid the seeds of disease which
soon afterwards developed.
This was Frank Buckland's last journey to collect
salmon eggs.
In January 1879 he again went to the
CONCLUSION
375
docks, and packed in the ice-house of the S.S. 'Durham'
eggs he had received for Australia. A few days later he
was attacked with inflammation of the lungs, followed by
hæmorrhage, which confined him for ten days to his room.
It was two months before he could return to his official
duties. He continued, however, to work at his salmon
report, and other articles.
This year's report contained a short history of the con-
dition and prospects of all the salmon rivers under cul-
tivation in England and Wales, and was the result of
'three and a half months' hard work.'
'As regards our salmon fisheries,' he wrote, 'it will be
satisfactory to know that the physical condition and salmon-
bearing capabilities of each river have been now thoroughly
examined and recorded. In fact we know all the physical
circumstances advantageous to the salmon, and we can also
put our finger upon the localities, where circumstances,
whether natural or artificial, militate against the welfare
of these valuable fish. The one great drawback to the full
development of the fisheries of this country is undoubtedly
dirty water, in other words, "pollutions." Clean and pure
water is a matter of national importance, as regards the
health and industries of the nation, as well as in reference
to the development of the fisheries. It therefore behoves
every individual of this great nation, whether in his public
or private capacity, to apply his influence to the solution
of what is really the great question of the day, viz., “the
pollution of rivers."
On April 23 he took the chair at the Society of Arts,
at a lecture given by Mr. Willis Bund, but was obliged to
leave the chair from a fresh attack of illness.
376
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
In June, July, and August he nevertheless went to the
West, North, and East of England, and completed the
inquiry into deep-sea fisheries, and worked hard at this
report, which was finished in November with its full
account of British food fishes.
At Great Grimsby he met a committee, lately formed
there, to enlist the aid of fishermen in observing and re-
cording facts relating to sea fisheries. In order to teach
fishermen how to observe and utilise their experience, a
table of heads of inquiry was prepared, under his guidance,
and distributed; and prizes were offered, to which many of
his friends contributed, for those who should bring home
the best and fullest information. Some of the last days
of his life were spent, as he lay in bed, in reading and
classifying the answers received, and sending off the prizes
for the fishermen.
In 1877 and 1878 a formidable disease had appeared
among the salmon destroying many thousands of fish.
The subject was discussed in Frank Buckland's report
presented in the spring of 1879, and in August he was
directed, with Mr. Walpole and Mr. Archibald Young, to
inquire into the causes and remedies of the disease. Public
inquiries were held at fifteen places in England and Scot-
land where the disease was rife, and numerous diseased
fish were examined and dissected, casts of the preparations
placed in the Museum, and in August the report was
presented. The nature of the disease, which existed also
in Canada and other countries, was shown to be a fungoid
growth attacking the fish while in fresh water; its true
cause, though many were assigned, appeared as mysterious
as that of other epidemics among men or animals.
CONCLUSION
377
In June 1879, Herr von Bunsen, a son of Dean
Buckland's old friend, Baron von Bunsen, visited England,
to obtain co-operation in the Fishery Exhibition to be held
at Berlin in 1880. To Frank Buckland's great regret, no
aid appeared to be forthcoming from the British Govern-
ment, but he determined that this country should not be
unrepresented. He took Herr von Bunsen round his
Museum, discussed with him the exhibits to be sent, and,
notwithstanding infirm health, immediately began to pre-
pare new casts for the purpose.
His interest in the current curiosities of the day
continued unabated.
The friendly Zulus who visited London in July 1879
were interviewed and thus described :— There are six
young men, all in the very prime of life, sound in wind and
limb, and as active as cats. Digandau (chief), Possmon,
Magubi, Nusan, Kikou, and Oskei. They vary somewhat
in colour; all of them are black, but not the jet-black of
the West Coast African nigger. The smallest of the six,
a lad about sixteen, is lighter in colour. The hair is wool
in little tufts. They resemble in figure statues of black
marble, or bronze figures one sees in the Paris shops.
The physiognomy of these Zulus is by no means disagree-
able; I could find many much worse faces in the slums of
London. Being a disciple of Lavater, I read in their
faces goodnature and a kindly disposition, mixed with a
peculiar expression not present in European faces. If im-
properly handled or offended, the features indicate instant
revenge and merciless retaliation. These two characteristics
came out well in their performances. Their dances were
emblematical of fighting, and victory to the death over
378
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
their enemies; whereas the representations of the marriage
feast, and their dinner-time outside their kraal, showed
that they were socially goodnatured, merry, happy people.
When they came down amongst the audience, I was sur-
prised to see the natural polite manner in which these
Zulus bowed and acknowledged the flowers, which were
presented to them by the ladies. One of the most marked
characteristics of the Zulus was their amazing quickness
of hearing and sight. Though silent, they seemed to see
and hear everything that was going on, and to be ready for
any emergency in a moment. They were most at home
when throwing the assegai. These really are fearful
weapons; they are from four to five feet long, made of
hard wood, and carry a blade or narrow spear of soft
pliable iron about five inches long, cutting with both
edges. When using the assegai they cause it to quiver in
the hand in a peculiar manner before they throw it. This
gives it an impetus; it flies through the air as quick and
as silent as an arrow from a bow, and it strikes the object
with a peculiar sullen thud. Two ordinary targets were
placed one behind the other against a platform of boards.
After a volley of two assegais thrown by each Zulu I
found there were six golds, and the rest of the spears were
very near golds. If the object aimed at had been an ordi-
nary man, every assegai would have penetrated his chest.
So deep had the weapons gone through the two targets, and
into the wood behind, that the attendants had some difficulty
in getting them out. I examined the wounds in the
targets. If these wounds had been made in the human
frame, being deep punctured wounds, they, if not at once
fatal, would have been most difficult to treat. The dis-
CONCLUSION
379
tances through which the assegais had pierced the targets
averaged six and a half inches, independently of the point
being deeply fixed into the boards at the back. The Zulus
have been taken round the Zoological Gardens. They were
dreadfully afraid of the elephants; they knew quite well
what elephants are, but had never seen a tame one, and
regarded it as a natural enemy. The Cape hyæna was an
old friend, and, when he laughed, the Zulus laughed with
joy at meeting a countryman of their own. The ant-bear
was turned out of his straw for them; him they greeted,
but they were much puzzled with the South American
anteater. In Africa, as we well know, there are no
deer proper, but only antelopes; the Zulus were de-
lighted with the elands, but amazed at the wapiti stag:
they could hardly be persuaded that the wapiti's horns
were not leafless boughs of trees. An amusing incident
took place at the Gardens. A good-looking young lady
at the refreshment department brought the chief some
iced water. The chief, Dingandau, immediately wanted to
buy her, and with seriousness asked how many cows her
father would take for her!'
In November 1879, Frank Buckland held an inquiry
among the fishermen at Cromer. On his way thence to
Lowestoft he was caught in a violent snowstorm, which
induced another attack of illness. This was the last in-
quiry he held.
k
16
If a close observer,' writes his colleague, Mr. Spencer
Walpole, were asked to mention the chief quality which
Mr. Buckland developed as Inspector of Fisheries, he would
probably reply a capacity for managing men. He had the
¹ Macmillan's Magazine, February 1881.
380
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
happiest way of conciliating opposition, and of carrying an
even hostile audience with him. It frequently occurred
that the fishermen at the many inquiries, which his
colleague and he held, looked in the first instance with
suspicion at the Inspectors. They never looked with sus-
picion on them when they went away. The ice of reserve
was thawed by the warmth of Mr. Buckland's genial
manner, and the men who for the first half hour shrank
from imparting information, in the next three hours vied
with one another in contributing it.
6
Energy,' the same writer continues, 'was only one
of Mr. Buckland's characteristics. His kindliness was
another. Perhaps no man ever lived with a kinder heart.
It may be doubted whether he ever willingly said a hard
word, or did a hard action. He used to say of one gentle-
man, by whom he thought he had been aggrieved, that he
had forgiven him seventy times seven already, so that he
was not required to forgive him any more. He could not
resist a cry of distress, particularly if it came from a
woman. Women, he used to say, are such doe-like timid
things, that he could not bear to see them unhappy. One
night, walking from his office, he found a poor servant-girl
crying in the street. She had been turned out of her
place that morning, as unequal to her duties; she had no
money and no friends nearer than Taunton, where her
parents lived. Mr. Buckland took her to an eating-house,
gave her a dinner, drove her to Paddington, paid for her
ticket, and left her in charge of the guard of the train.
His nature was so simple and generous that he did not
even seem to realise that he had done an exceptionally
kind action.'
CONCLUSION
381
Many instances might be added of similar acts of
kindness.
C
'Christmas week, for many years past,' Frank Buckland
wrote in December 1879, has been to me a period of great
importance; for this is the week in which the salmon are
at the very height of spawning, throughout the rivers of
England and Scotland. This also is the week in which I
generally receive the consignments of great lake trout and
eggs of Salmonide from the Continent.
'This Christmas week, I regret to say, I shall not have
the opportunity of spending my time up to my neck in
water, collecting salmon eggs for Australia or New Zealand,
from one or other of our northern rivers; or in one of the
southern rivers, getting trout eggs for the Thames. I must
say I very much enjoy collecting salmon and trout eggs;
it is very cold, and, at the same time, very hard work, but I
very much prefer it to indoors and the fireside.
'If I can't get a job on the water, I must make one
for myself on land; so I, with my friend Bartlett's permis-
sion, now give the result of a very pleasant conversation
I have had with him, relative to Christmas time at the
Zoological Gardens.
'It is a great satisfaction to us both to see how very
popular natural history has become during the last few years.
I am especially pleased to observe, that the similitudes or
quasi-similitudes of birds, beasts and fishes are being in-
troduced, whether for use or ornament, into domestic life.
Moreover, if we look into the shop-windows, do we not
observe how very dependent we are on the animal creation.
for food and raiment (witness the poultry shops and also
the ladies' furs, sealskins, feathers, etc.)? But yet how
382
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
fearfully ignorant most of us are of the habits of the
beasts and birds which provide all these good things for
us!
'Under these circumstances, let us direct our thoughts
on what is going on, this mid-winter time, in the Zoological
Gardens.
'No one goes to the Zoological Gardens at this time of
year; nevertheless, severe winter weather (especially the
snow and ice time) is of all others that which causes most
anxiety.
'When we recollect what a number of animals in the
Gardens are natives of tropical climates, such as Africa,
South America, India, and of parts of the world situated
under almost every kind of climate, it becomes obvious
that the utmost care, study and constant watching, both
day and night, are required to find proper house-room, warm
sheltered quarters, and food for this hungry family, clothed
in fur or feather, of nearly two thousand mouths, all told.
'In spite of all the difficulties of commissariat, board
and lodging, the animals at the Zoological seem, and
really are, very comfortable, and I trust happy. It is more
than probable that, as they are protected from heat and
cold, from their natural enemies, and have their food
regularly, they live longer in the Gardens than they would
in their native homes, be it plain, mountain, forest, or
jungle: for instance, the senior bird of the parrot-house is
a Vasa parrot, presented July 25, 1830. This remarkable
bird has never had a day's illness, has been merry, well
fed, and is probably the cldest bird of the species in
existence.
'Many of the animals at the Gardens are hardy
CONCLUSION
383
enough to be allowed to roam more or less in the open.
These, nevertheless, require great attention in time of
frost; because the water which is given to them to drink
becomes hard and frozen, so that the poor brutes, many of
which know not ice, cannot understand that it is water at
all; and that the meat given them for food, unless eaten
immediately, becomes hard like wood, and consequently
difficult, if not impossible, to swallow.
'Notwithstanding the many difficulties, not only can
a good bill of health be shown, but the collection has of
late been enriched by several rare and valuable additions.
"Of these, one of the most remarkable is a young
penguin from Cape Horn, of the species known as the
king penguin (Aptenodytes longirostris). This bird arrived
in the remarkable state of a baby penguin-that is, with
a plumage of down. This down is of a dark brown colour,
and is upwards of two inches long. The bird had all the
appearance of a penguin in a dress of bear-skin, the long
flappers, or wings, being enveloped, as it were, in sleeves
of the same fur. In less than ten days the bird began to
moult its down, and at the present time the new plumage
consists of a perfectly white breast and grey back, while
the head and neck still retain the downy state. The bird
is exceedingly fat, weighing upwards of 50 lb. He lives
principally on sprats and herrings, of which he consumes
large quantities daily.
'Another acquisition to the Gardens was made a few
days since by the purchase of a magnificent pair of prong-
horned antelopes (Antilocapra Americana), probably the
first pair ever exhibited in Europe, at any rate the first
pair ever brought to England. So little was the animal
384
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
known or understood, that, until the year 1865, when Mr.
Bartlett read a paper upon the affinities of this animal,
before a meeting of the Zoological Society of London, in
which he described and called attention to the remarkable
fact that the prong-buck shed its horns annually, no
naturalist in Europe or America had believed or suspected
such was the case.
'During the last week arrived two fine young female
Red River hogs (Potamochoerus pencillatus). This is a
most important addition to the Society's collection, as the
only living specimen in Europe of this beautiful species is
a fine adult male in the Gardens. The history of this
animal I will give in Mr. Bartlett's own words:-
"During the winter of 1875 I received from Mr. Cross,
of Liverpool, a small box about six inches square; upon
opening the box a wee striped little pig, little bigger than
a rat, put up his little snout and made a small squeak.
With the winter advancing, and knowing from his form of
ears that his native home was in West Africa, I took him
out, and gave him a good feed of warm milk, boiled rice.
and sugar, wrapped him up in flannel, and sent him back to
Liverpool, with a note to say I could not purchase him, as
none of the keepers would be troubled with such a baby,
and I felt sure the poor little fellow would die if placed
in the collection. A day or two afterwards I was sur-
prised to receive the same small box, and more so to find
the unfortunate little pig inside, and a note from Cross to
say the animal was of no use to him-he could not be
bothered with it-and as I declined to purchase it for the
Society, he begged me to accept it, and do what I pleased
with it. I felt hurt to find this poor little fellow thus an
CONCLUSION
385
I took him in my
outcast and apparently friendless.
hands, and conveyed him at once into my kitchen. Calling
the maid, I asked her if she would take charge of this
little outcast, telling her, at the same time, if she treated
him kindly, and kept him alive for one month, I would
give her a sovereign. The girl, pleased at the offer, took
poor Dick, for that was at once his adopted name, and
placed him in a basket with a warm blanket near the fire.
All went well with Dick from this moment. Warm food
and dainty morsels were Dick's frequent allowance. He
was soon allowed to walk about the house, and, unlike
most other swine, was the cleanest of animals. Few dogs
or cats could equal him in cleanliness in the house, and
thus Dick became a universal favourite, and after a while
made his appearance regularly in the dining-room at
dinner-time, and had a plate to himself before the fire.
He was the most good-tempered and well-behaved crea-
ture that can be imagined. His playfulness would some-
times frighten strangers, and, as he increased rapidly in
size, he found it difficult to run under the chairs, and
these he now and then turned over in his endeavour to
rub his back or sides against them. In the early
morning, before the Gardens were open to the public,
Dick would follow me on my rounds like a pet dog,
stopping occasionally to grub up with his snout a few
earthworms, of which he was very fond, and while so
engaged he would lose sight of me, but, the moment he did
so, he would rush off like a mad fellow until he overtook
me, and always seemed in fear of being left behind. He
was very fond of being played with, and a birchbroom
afforded him great sport. When held to him he would
CC
386
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
charge at it with his tusks, small as they were at the
time, and spin round in the most extraordinary way,
dashing off to some distance, and then returning to the
charge. He was never tired of this sham fighting, at
which he never got out of temper, for, as soon as it was
over, he would come into the house as pleased as any
puppy after the fun. Dick, however, soon became too big
for the chairs and tables, and as they were sometimes very
much in his way he turned them over, not knowing, of
course, that anything of value was damaged by his so
doing; in fact, it began to appear that Dick had a notion
that whatever was on the table was intended for him, and
that the proper way to get it was to turn the table over.
It was therefore decided, on July 25, 1877, that the time
had arrived when Dick should leave the house, and he
has since formed part of the collection in the menagerie."
'During one of the bitter cold days we have lately had,
there arrived a very interesting addition to the Gardens,
namely, a little bear, sent by Mr. Cross, of Liverpool, on
"sale or return." Knowing my great liking for bears,
Mr. Bartlett kindly brought this young gentleman down
to pay me a visit. He was a funny little fellow, about the
size of a large rough puppy, and a very knowing customer.
When I took him out of his box and put him before the
fire, he sat down on his haunches, turned his head round,
and inspected the monkeys in their cage. The monkeys
did not know what to make of him. They did not show
the same symptoms of alarm as when a snake is brought
in, but they paid Mr. Bear very great respect, not even
making a face at him. When let out of their cage, they
took good care not to come on the ground, but invariably
CONCLUSION
387
got on to the chairs, cage, or mantelpiece, always keeping
one eye on the intruder. The bear was very inquisitive,
and walked about the room on his short bandy legs, and
pried into everything. What amused him most was to
scratch up the matting forming the hearthrug and to
hunt for something. This is his natural habit, to turn
over stones, to catch beetles, worms, etc. His great de-
light was to get somebody's finger into his mouth; he
would then immediately begin sucking most vehemently,
making a peculiar noise all the time, as if much gratified.
It was necessary, however, to keep one's finger in the
middle of his mouth, as otherwise there was a chance of
being nipped smartly by his canine teeth, which were
quite large enough to hurt. He was very intolerant of
cold, and would, if he could, get under the grate, and
rake about among the ashes, sometimes even getting his
fur singed.
'I tried to teach him tricks, and began by making him
stand upright in the corner of the sofa. The little rascal,
however, would not learn anything, and his education
finished by his making a fierce rush at me, and my boxing
his ears.
'To the servants a bear was a bear, and it was very
amusing to hear the shindy they kicked up, when, in the
course of his peregrinations about the house, Mr. Bear met
them on the stairs, or went into the kitchen to warm him-
self. He had very peculiar eyes, very pig-like and cun-
ning, and he was fond of coming up to a visitor, staring
him steadfastly in the face, as much as to say,
"Please
give me something; I think you had better." He would
eat almost anything, but his favourite diet was bread,
C C 2
388
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
milk and sugar. I am sorry to say I was obliged to send
him back to the Gardens, or I should like to have made a
companion of him, and I am certain, as he was tame, he
would have soon become obedient. I hope somebody will
buy him for one of the pantomimes; he would, I think, be
a great hit.
'A propos of bears, I do not think I have ever put on
record the story about the bear who managed to get loose
at the Gardens. At daybreak, one fine summer's morning,
the watchman reported to Mr. Bartlett that there was
something alive underneath the chairs, which, as usual,
had been piled up after the visitors had left. When Mr.
Bartlett came to look at the chairs, it was quite apparent
that there was somebody or something alive in the middle
of the pyramid. Watching carefully among the legs of
the chairs, at last two black eyes were seen; these were
apparently bear's eyes, so they counted the bears in the
bear-pit, and one of them was found to be missing. The
difficulty now was to get the bear back into the pit. The
chairs were removed, one by one, till the bear remained
unconcealed. My gentleman then got up on his hind legs,
and showed symptoms of becoming nasty.
'The bear was then surrounded by keepers in a half-
circle. The best thing in the world to fight a wild animal
with, is the stump end of a besom. The bear, knowing his
way back home, went up the steps and ran along the parapet,
over the cages in which the lions at that time lived. When
he got home to his bear-pit, he evidently did not like the
jump down, so he reared himself up on his hind-legs, and
swinging himself backwards and forwards began to swear
in a bear-like manner. While the stupid old bear was
CONCLUSION
389
making a fool of himself in this way, Mr. Bartlett took a
run at him, and knocked him clean over into the bear-pit
with the stump end of the broom. He laid there a long
time with all the wind knocked out of him. At last he
got up, shook himself, and sneaked off into his den, where
he lay mumbling for several days, but ultimately came out
none the worse for his expedition among the chairs, or his
tumble backwards into the bear-pit.
6
Though bears are very good climbers, yet it is a
mercy they cannot jump, or otherwise they would have
long ago jumped out of the bear-pit from the top of their
pole. Some years back a young man, on a sixpenny day,
had an adventure with the bear. I suppose the heat of
the weather (or other disturbing causes) made him drop
his best holiday hat right into the bear-pit. The stupid
fellow at once got down into the bear-pit, alighting on the
top of a big bear who was coiled up sleeping in the sun.
The bear got up, and taking the man by the shoulders,
began waltzing round with him. Luckily the man kept his
feet, and nothing worse happened, as the keeper drove off
the bear, and let the man out at the side door. He forgot,
however, to take his hat with him, and left it in the cage;
the bears, of course, tore it up. The cool impertinence of
this man was greatly to be wondered at, as next day he
actually sent in a bill to the Society for a new hat.
'Ladies must take notice that Mr. Bartlett is not
responsible for bonnets or feathers stolen by the monkeys.
He was once summoned by an old woman for a bonnet.
The old woman produced a shabby old bonnet in court
which she valued at an exorbitant price. Mr. Bartlett, on
the other side, produced the notice-board from the monkey-
390
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
house warning visitors against the peculating propensities
of the monkeys. The old woman lost her case.
'There is a very curious bear at the Zoological Gardens
now. He sits up when he sees anybody coming and begs
for what he can get. If he is shown anything and does
not get it, he pretends to commit suicide, turning round
and biting himself all over most furiously. This is an
amusing beast. He cannot bear being laughed at.
'A curious occurrence has lately taken place at the
Gardens. One night one of the lions was observed to be
in a state of great tribulation, rolling about, and trying to
get something out of his mouth with his paws. Upon
examining the animal to see what was the matter, Mr.
Bartlett found that a great bone had become a fixture in
the poor brute's mouth. The difficulty was to remove it,
as the lion was in a fearful temper. This was done by
getting the lion into a "shifting den," where his face
would not be very far from the bars. It was then ascer-
tained that the object in the lion's mouth was the spongy
round bone, as big as a cricket-ball, which forms the
hip-joint of a horse. The lion had had part of a haunch of
horse for dinner, and in amusing himself with the bone,
first got his upper large canine tooth into the soft part of
the bone, and biting on it, the corresponding canine tooth
in the lower jaw came through so far into the bone that it
nearly met with the point of the upper tooth, and the
jaw became fixed. The animal was thus prevented from
taking food or water. Mr. Bartlett, with a great deal of
tact and manœuvring, managed to get this bone out of the
lion's mouth, and fortunately, as it was found that the
long projecting portion of the bone was pressing hard
CONCLUSION
391
upon the lion's tongue. This is the third clever operation
in dentistry that Mr. Bartlett has performed-first, remov-
ing a big tooth from the hippopotamus; second, operating
on the base of the tusk of the big elephant; third, taking
a horse's leg-bone out of the lion's mouth.'
C
Frank Buckland's last Fishery Report was presented
on March 31, 1880. I have determined to make this
report,' he wrote, ' as far as possible an outline and guide to
those who wish to open up and improve salmon fisheries,
in whatever part of the world they may be situated, and
more particularly in our own country. To Ichthyology
(both general and special), and to the art of angling, many
works, from the days of Izaak Walton 200 years ago down-
wards, have been devoted, but no special treatise upon the
general management of a salmon fishery, in other words on
salmon farming, so far as I know, exists.' This report
contains a most interesting description of the anatomy of
the salmon, of its food and habits of life, its breeding,
capture, and diseases, and will well repay perusal.
Although failing health restrained him from bodily
exertion, and warned him too plainly that his course was
nearly run, his intellectual activity did not flag; it seemed
rather stimulated to increased exertion, while life remained.
He devoted much time to the arrangement of specimens
for his Museum, which he now determined to leave to the
nation to perpetuate, to the utmost of his power, that
knowledge and love of pisciculture, which he had laboured
to spread through all classes of people.
Many of his last days were spent in arranging and
naming the various kinds of oysters, and other specimens
for the Museum.
392
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
6
On April 20, 1880, the International Fishery Exhi-
bition at Berlin was opened. Baron von Bunsen, vice-
president of the German Fishery Society, acted as British
delegate. This,' Frank Buckland wrote, 'is what he says
on behalf of England: "True to the ancient English
tradition of preferring individual enterprise to state
action, Her Britannic Majesty's Government declined
to apply for any appropriation of the public funds, to-
wards participating in a Fishery Exhibition of all nations.
Alone, among the various countries represented at our
show, England offers, in consequence, an Exhibition
brought together at hap-hazard, incomplete, and out of
all proportion to the greatness and splendour of British
and Irish fisheries, to the capital invested in the working
of them, to the perfection which the angler's sport at-
tained there centuries ago, and proudly sustains to the
present day. Who would guess, while wending his way
between the tables of the one room, to which we have
reduced our claim, that the country, which sent those
specimens, was the first to restrain the senseless destruction
of fish in its rivers and estuaries; the first to open up
passages for the Salmonide so long impeded by weirs and
other obstacles; the first to start the policy of prohibiting
the pollution of ponds, lakes and rivers, by the influx of
noxious matters from mines and factories? Who would
guess, that this small collection represents a race of men,
who are at once the largest consumers of fish in the world,
the most accomplished of anglers, and, perhaps, the keenest
inventors in every branch of industry connected with
fishing? As it is, we feel certain that Mr. Frank Buckland's
collection, so well known to every visitor of the Kensington
CONCLUSION
393
Museum, and disclosing as it does the vast extent of his
acquirements, will command the attention of all true pisci-
culturists. Let us hope that its author may still find his
way to Berlin to illustrate and discourse upon it with all
the vigour of his eloquence and enthusiasm.”
'As I read these words,' Frank Buckland added, 'I was
overwhelmed with shame, to think that this great country,
with our salmon fisheries, sea fisheries, especially trawl
and herring, oysters, crab and lobster, and pilchard, all of
enormous value and importance, to say nothing of the vast
amount of capital invested in angling, should be ignored
in the presence of the representatives of fish culture, not
only in Germany, but almost every civilised state in the
world. When I found that the United States Government
had voted the sum of 4,000l. towards the exhibition of the
products of that country, I was determined that England
should, somehow or other, be represented. So I set to work
with my secretary, Mr. Edon of the Fish Museum, and a
working carpenter; Sir Cunliffe Owen lent me packing-
cases, and, by working very hard, we managed to send off
from my Museum fifteen large cases full of casts, maps,
diagrams, models of salmon-ladders, tables of statistics,
photographs, &c.'
His zeal received a severe check. "The following
is the delightful news I received from Baron von Bunsen,
who most kindly superintended my exhibit: "No care
was omitted; when opening your boxes I was personally
present. Never did I see a greater havoc than that which
this short and easy journey had produced. The damage is
practically irreparable.
The injury to his casts was a grievous disappointment,
394
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
but borne with great equanimity. 'I cannot help think-
ing that this awful knocking about must be done by the
vanmen and railway porters. That it is possible to send
goods without being fractured, is evident from the fact that
the most delicate glass things come perfectly safe from
Vienna and other parts of the Continent. Why should
not other cases of goods be treated as carefully as these,
or say boxes of eggs? It is not the heads of the carrying
firms who are to blame, but the rude uncultivated men,
on whom, I believe, the blame is to be laid.'
A gold medal and a special diploma were awarded him
for his exhibits at Berlin, but were not received in his
lifetime.
Dropsy set in, for which, in June, he underwent
an operation, many times afterwards repeated. • Refused
chloroform,' he quaintly notes, as I wished to be present
at the operation.'
6
A visit to Margate for some weeks revived his strength,
and gave hope that the vigour of his constitution might
even yet conquer disease.
Rest from bodily work did not relax the activity of his
mind. He pictured the history of the past, and examined
the fishing and shrimping of the present day, as the fisher-
men clustered round him on the beach; and he wrote
this description of his enforced holiday.
'In vain do I try to take a holiday. Here I have
been at Margate but a few hours, with orders to do nothing,
yet my " buttons," John, has put out blank paper and new
pens, and perforce I must write what I have been able to
pick up from the balcony of my hotel.
'I can't yet make out who the natives are, ethnologically
CONCLUSION
395
speaking. During our fishery inquiries the type of the
fishermen generally gave the probable origin. Thus, on
the south coast of Scotland the natives are Norwegians;
on the west Celts. I think the Margate folks are Saxons
-they can't be Danes. The Danes only came over here
to plunder, and are not likely to have fraternised with the
natives of the land, in the days of king Sigeburth, A.D. 648.
'The bathing seems to be excellent, to judge from the
crowd one sees in the water. From a distance, a school
of boys in the water looks very like a herd of seals at
play. Why don't they teach both men and women to
swim? A swimming-master to attend the bathers, at two-
pence a lesson, would do well here. The bathers could
be coached from a boat.
'Shrimps-the whole place seems to be shrimps, one
penny a pint. They are not the brown shrimps, but the
white prawn-like shrimps, Pandanus, first discovered, I
believe, at Yarmouth some forty years ago.
There are
also many mussels, especially on the iron pillars of the
jetty, where they grow in great bunches. The fishermen
are wise enough, when picking them, to put back the
small ones to grow.
These mussels are much used for
hop and corn manure.
'In the far distance one can see the great foreign-
going ships going up or down Channel, to or from the
port of London. Just now, in fine weather, these ships,
with all the sails set, look like gigantic birds; espe-
cially beautiful when the setting sun lights up their
sails. The sunsets at Margate are, I am told, well known
in the artistic world. Turner-who, as Ruskin says, is
the only man who could ever paint sunsets-used to come
396
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
to Margate to study the lovely skies and clouds as King
Sol dips his head below the horizon. A great deal of the
beauty of these Margate sunsets may be attributable to
the setting sun illuminating with its gorgeous colouring
the great banks of London smoke far away to the west-
ward.
'In the winter the ships sometimes come to grief, and
several fine sea-going boats, now painting up in the
harbour, go out to save life and property, or carry out an
anchor and chain to sell to ships. In December 1877, no
less than twenty-five ships were ashore within sight of
Margate jetty. There are no finer seamen than the
Margate luggermen, and an accident to them seldom
happens.
In
'Margate, I believe, was the place where "hoys" were
first used. As far as I can understand, a “hoy" was a
cross between a barge and a lugger. In former times
they were considered wonders of speed and comfort.
a book published in 1820, "A Picture of Margate," the
number of packets, hoys, etc., which belonged to Margate
Harbour is said to be about seventy. The crowd which
collected upon the pier to see the packets arrive was called
"hoy fair." The excellences of the "hoy" have been
celebrated in verse thus :-
Go, beauteous hoy, in safety every inch.
'In former times Margate was much used as a port of
embarkation for the Continent. William III., we are told,
often came to Margate in his way to and from Holland, and
George I. twice landed here. Queen Caroline, wife to
George II., came first on shore at Margate, and the great
CONCLUSION
397
Duke of Marlborough chose this for his place of embark-
ing and landing whenever he went to or returned from his
campaigns. The Duke of York embarked and returned
here in his expedition to Flanders in 1793. Admiral
Duncan also landed here after his glorious victory over the
Dutch fleet in 1798.
'The air of Margate is wonderfully pure. It is manu-
factured in the far, far North, right among the ice floes
›f the far-distant Polar regions, the home of the whale,
the seal, and the walrus. A vessel taking her departure
from Margate, and steering her course N. half E., would
hit no land until she arrived on the coast of Greenland, in
latitude 75° North, after a run of 1,380 miles.
'From the window I can see Reculvers in the extreme
listance.
'Reculvers was the Regulbium of those splendid
soldiers the Romans. Here as everywhere else the
Romans have left lots of money about. I cannot account
for this, except that they had no pockets in their armour.
In the time of the Romans, vessels did not go round the
North Foreland, but through an arm of the sea, which in
fact formed the Isle of Thanet. At the northern end was
a fortress and a look-out, Reculvers, i.e. Regulbium; at
the other end was Richborough. The little river, Want-
sume, about marks the line where this ancient sea com-
munication passed.
'When the Romans came to England, Julius Cæsar
probably looked upon a different outline of cliff than the
Lord Mayor of London will see when he arrives in state to-
morrow, and this alteration in the cliff line has been made in
a curious manner. First there comes a sun-crack along the
398
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
edge of the cliff; the rain-water gets into the crack, then
comes the frost: the rain-water in freezing expands, and
by degrees wedges off a great slice of chalk cliff; down
this tumbles into the water, and then Neptune sets his
great waves at work to tidy up the mess. These waves
soon knock all to bits the tottering walls of chalk, which
look like great slices of wedding-cake. Then the waves set
to work and polish up the harder bits of chalk into rounded
masses from the size of a pea to that of a billiard-ball.
The flints are collected, and dwelling-houses made there-
with. Flints are the best and most lasting of building
stones; just go and try to hammer a bit out of the Roman
wall at Reculvers, and you will find the Romans knew how
to build walls better than the London contractors of our
own epoch. In the Roman wall the mortar is harder than
the flints. By the way, at a certain watering-place in
Wales, most extraordinary pebbles are frequently found by
visitors, who take them to the local lapidaries to be cut
into brooches, &c. These wonderful stones are home-made
jewels, manufactured by the innocent waves of the ocean
in this wise. At the end of the season all the old soda-
water and lemonade bottles are collected, and thick bits of
glass at the end of the bottles knocked off. These lumps.
of glass are thrown into the sea; the sea rumbles and
tumbles them among the shingle all the winter, and, by
the time the next visitors' season comes round, they are
converted into all sorts of precious stones bearing hard
names, and are accounted great curiosities.
'In this part of Kent we find many names of places
ending in gate: thus, Kingsgate, Ramsgate, Margate.
Margate, the gate of the mere, or small stream, running
CONCLUSION
399
into the sea; Kingsgate, near the North Foreland Light-
house, is the gate (i.e. road cut through the chalk cliff),
where Charles II. landed in 1683; Ramsgate is said
to derive its name from Ruim, the ancient name for the
Isle of Thanet, and gate, or else from "Roman" "
(
gate."
Being fond of sea fish, I went out on to the end of
the jetty, with a friend, to try our luck. John, the buttons,
followed us with the fishing kit. I find that the more tackle
I take the fewer fish I catch. I carry my tackle in a
patent box of my own construction. My box acts as a
box, a seat, and a life-buoy. It is simply a box made
bottom, sides, and ends, with thick, rough, heavy cork,
having a wooden lid, also corked like the rest of the box;
this shuts close. In case of an accident I can empty out
the fishing kit in a moment, and have a capital life-buoy
ready at once.
"Though we tried every bait, and all sorts of tackle,
neither of us got even a bite or a nibble, not even an eel.
The result of our two afternoons was one mite of a green
shore crab, and we agreed with the angling poet of old
who wrote-
Much for my sport I cannot say,
Though, mind, I like the fun.
Here have I sat the live-long day
Without extracting one.
1
However, though we got no fish, we found out the corner
where the fishermen gutted their fish, and I got some
capital preparations.
The fishermen leave the teeth in the mouth of the
skates and dogfish. These teeth are very beautiful, like
the finest tesselated pavement. I understand that at
400
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
another watering-place, which shall be nameless, they
cut out the rows of these pavement-like teeth, and sell
them to visitors as the male and female "shuttle shell."
6
Though the Roman galleys and merchant vessels,
inward bound for the port of London, saved about twenty
miles of their journey by coming through the arm of the
sea, which made the Isle of Thanet insular; this "Suez
Canal" of those days has not been navigable for many a
long year. The only road, therefore, up the Thames for
ships inward bound from the south is round the North
Foreland. For many hundred years, therefore, this "Pro-
mentorium Cantium " has been the headland chosen as the
site of a pharos or lighthouse. Until comparatively modern
times, a simple fire was kept burning all night; now the
North Foreland Lighthouse throws its rays twenty miles
out to sea. One of its chief uses is to point out the
position of the terrible Goodwin Sands.
'There is much mystery about the Goodwin Sands.
They derive their name from the Earl of Godwyne, who
was, in 1020, created Earl of Kent by King Canute. In
his days the Goodwins were an island, called Lomea.
These sands are ten miles long by two wide. They are
composed of a porous, tenacious material of a red tint,
and are quite hard when dry. Sometimes cricket matches
are played upon them, excursions being made from Rams-
gate. When the tide comes up they become immediately
a quicksand, and wrecks very soon get buried in them.
It is a question, first, whether the Goodwins were sub-
merged in a great rising of the sea which is on record,
A.D. 1097; second, whether the land has not gradually
sunk down; third, whether the Goodwins do not form a
CONCLUSION
401
portion of the land, which originally connected the white.
cliffs of Kent with those of France. The banks called the
Varne and the Ridge, between Folkestone and Boulogne,
probably also are remains of the junction, which must have
existed before any written records, as the Saxon chroniclers
say nothing whatever about it. My father, the Dean, used
to say that, between Folkestone and Boulogne, the water
was nowhere so deep as to cover the top of the tower of
Magdalen College, Oxford.
The Reculvers was one of the first of the fortresses
which the Romans built, when they conquered the Cantii,
the original British inhabitants of Cantium, i.e. Kent.
'On Saturday morning, August 26, in the 54th year
before Christ, about 10 o'clock A.M. according to an able
paper on “Cæsar's landing in Britain," published in the
"Archæological Journal," in 1876, the British com-
mander-in-chief, Cassivellaunus, and his army of ancient
Britons, paraded in battle-array on the high cliffs near
Dover, first saw the Roman fleet approaching. Julius
Cæsar's admiral had anchored his fleet the night before off
Wessant on the French coast. The signal for sailing was
given about 12 at night, and he anchored off Dover about
10 next morning, remaining at anchor till about 3 in the
afternoon.
'According to Julius Cæsar, he beat our ancestors, the
brave Britons, at once; but it strikes me that General
Julius Cæsar rather cooked his official report of this affair
to the War Office at Rome, as no special war correspon-
dents were allowed; for, according to a Kentish historian,
the Roman general got much the worst of the first fight
D D
402
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
with the Britons. At all events, he bolted back to Rome
in a very unvictorious-like manner.
I mentioned that the Roman soldiers used always to
be dropping their money about. They seem also not to
have been particularly careful of their jewellery. In a
volume of "Archæologia Cantiana" several beautiful
engravings of gold armillæ are given. These appear to
have been massive gold bracelets or armlets, twisted in a
peculiar manner. One of an uncommon pattern was dug
up in November 1872, upon Chatham Lines, by some
soldiers throwing up a battery. This armilla weighed
22 oz. 4 dwt., and the gold would have been worth 931.
Wearing these torques was a custom of the Gauls, the
Frenchmen of the period. One of these gold armlets was
found in France, the intrinsic value of which was about 2001.
دو
The transport ships, employed by Julius Cæsar and his
generals to bring the troops across the Channel, would not
bear a favourable comparison to such ships in the British
navy as the "Serapis " Indian troopship, the "Shah,'
or the "Minotaur" ironclad; but yet they did their work
well. These Roman war-ships used sails made of leather,
and, instead of steam power were propelled by oars,
arranged in a very ingenious manner. Those of the lowest
bench were short, while those of the highest benches in-
creased in length in proportion to their height above the
water. There were sometimes as many as eight or ten
banks of oars, one above the other. The ships were also
named, and here are some of the names: the "Centaur,"
the "Scylla," the "Pristis" (named from the sawfish with
the flat rostrum edged with teeth), the "Insigne," answer-
ing to our "Redoubtable."
CONCLUSION
403
'The ancient Britons, who lived in those days in
Kent, were a noble set of fellows; they all dyed them-
selves a bluish colour, with a plant called woad (Isatis
tinctoria), which is also called pastel. Query, does woad
now exist in Kent? They were tall men; wore skins of
animals, probably deer, wolves, foxes, martens, wild cats,
otters, etc. They wore their hair very long, and allowed
their beards to grow, so that they must have been for-
midable in appearance. They had cavalry, but their horses
were small. Their regiments of chariots were very well
organised. Each chariot was driven by an experienced
man.
در
When in action the warrior threw spears among
the enemy, and then jumping down, fought hand to hand,
retiring to the chariot which waited for its master. Some-
times they fastened sharp-cutting curved knives, or scythes
to the axles of the chariots, and, driving into the thick of
the enemy, cut them down. They lived principally in
thick woods, and when the enemy pressed them re-
tired into bogs. The food most choice among them was
"chenerotes," "a kind of fowl less than a wild goose.
Query, was this a wild duck? Owing to the undrained
state of the county there must have been plenty of wild
ducks about. I expect they knew how to make decoys,
somewhat similar to those in Norfolk and Lincolnshire.
Strange to say, they would not eat the hen, the goose,
and the hare. I cannot form any notion whence they
derived this idea. Altogether they were probably very
like the New Zealanders of modern times as first found in
their native island, and conquered by us English.
'The first thing that most clever of generals, Julius
Cæsar, did upon his (second) landing was to establish a
D D 2
404
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
fortress at Richborough, then an island, get his ships
through the arm of the sea, and establish another fortress
at Regulbium, now Reculvers.
'As I gaze at Reculvers from Margate Jetty Head, I
can almost recall into existence the Roman sentries pacing
up and down on the tops of their fortified watch-towers,
or the "Castle guard" of the regiment, the First Cohort
of the Vetasii, the regiment on garrison duty while their
trumpets sounded "Guard turn out," or a general
salute" maybe even to Julius Cæsar himself, or to Ves-
pasian, his second in command.
(C
'The arms and uniform of this Vetasian regiment must
have been handsome as well as serviceable.
'Here is a list of a Roman soldier's "kit" :-A shield
with an iron boss, 4 feet long by 2 feet and a-half broad,
made of wood and covered with a bull's-hide-an excellent
defence against a sword-cut. A helmet of brass or iron,
with a plume, not unlike the helmet as worn by the
French dragoons at the present time. A cuirass of leather
covered with iron scales or rings, greaves for the legs, and
a heavy shoe, studded on the sole with rough nails, a
sword, and two javelins.
'But where are the Romans now, and where is their
fortress? Gone; disappeared deep down into the bed of
the ocean. The sea has eaten away the land, and the
place where the Romans built their fortress, probably
some half mile from the present towers of the Twin Sisters,
has disappeared under the waves of the great North Sea.
A portion of the walls still remains inland.
The fact is expressed in the following beautiful
lines:
CONCLUSION
405
Omnia tempus edax depascitur, omnia carpit,
Omnia sede movet, nil sinit esse diu.
Flumina deficiunt, profugum mare littora siccat,
Subsidunt montes et juga celsa ruunt.
Omnia mors poscit; Lex est, non pœna, perire:
Hic aliquo mundus tempore nullus erit.
'The Romans, fortunately, have left some traces at
Reculvers. I obtained several Roman coins, and saw one
representing the babies Romulus and Remus sucking a
wolf. Mr. Bartlett thinks the story very possible, as the
fiercest of animals when in milk seem to lose their savage
nature; so that the story of Romulus and Remus being
suckled by a wolf may be true after all.
'Out at sea, between Reculvers and Whitstable, is a
bank called the "Pudding Pan Sand," from the consider-
able quantities of Roman Samian pottery every year
dredged up from it.
'Reculvers was also the place chosen in subsequent
years by the best known of Saxon kings. When Saint
Augustine came to Canterbury, about 1060 years ago,
King Ethelbert gave up his palace at that place to him,
and went to live at Reculvers. St. Augustine was buried
in Canterbury Cathedral, and Bede records his tomb to
have borne a Latin inscription, of which the following is a
translation:
"Here resteth S. Augustine, the first Archbishop of
Canterbury, who being formerly sent hither by the Blessed
Gregory, Bishop of Rome, and supported of God by the
working of miracles; both converted Ethelbert with this
kingdom from the worship of idols to the faith of Christ;
and also, having fulfilled the days of his office, dy'd on the
7th of the Kalends of June, in the same King's reign."
406
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
'Ethelbert is said to have been buried at Reculvers,
but his grave must long ago have been washed away by
the sea.
'The ruined church at Reculvers was built probably
out of the stones that formed the Roman fortress and
Ethelbert's palace, and there are many of these big stones
now existing, for they were sold to help build the present
pier at Margate.
"The following description, in the writing of the
parish clerk of Reculvers, was found among the parish
papers. I give it in its own language and spelling:-
"1805. Reculver Church and villiage stood in safety.
1806. The sea begun to make a little incroach on the
willage. 1807. The farmers begun take up the seaside
stonework and sold it to the Margate Pier Compney for
a foundation for the new pier, and the timber by action,
as it was good oak, fit for their hoame use, and then the
willage became a total rack to the mercy of the sea.'
""
'How angry Julius Caesar would be if he only read this
paper, and learned to what use the stones of his fortress
at Reculvers had been put by the good people of
Margate!
'The true Englishman has one peculiarity, he is always
willing to take an opportunity of examining the noble
animal which he has chosen to represent his qualities,
viz., the Lion. For many years lions were kept-as
almost part of the Regalia-in the Tower of London,
thence they went to Exeter 'Change, then to the Surrey
Gardens, till, lastly, in our own time, the Lion House at
the Zoological Gardens, Regent's Park, has thrown all
previous lion shows quite into the shade.
CONCLUSION
407
'It was reported to me that there was a sick lioness
in Margate, and that she was in the collection of animals
in the Hall-by-the-Sea. We were soon off to see the poor
patient. She was the mother of five beautiful cubs--
perfect pictures-but had got an ailment of the lungs.
'It is a very curious fact that lions born and bred in
captivity are always, when they grow up, much fiercer
and more intractable than animals which are caught wild.
What may be the reason of this is not yet determined.
Lions, though natives of a hot country, can stand an
amazing amount of cold. When Sanger's Circus was on
its travels in Central Germany, a fearful frost came on
that froze even the axles of the waggon-wheels-every
man and beast suffered much, except the lions.
'I was very much pleased with Walter, the keeper, who
takes the greatest pains with his beasts. The big lion
and Walter were great friends, the lion rubbing his ears
against the bars as he paraded up and down while Walter
was showing us his points, and talking to him. What
a change for the better from the olden times when it was
the custom to "stir him up with a long pole," or as was
the case with Nero, the celebrated "fighting lion,” so well
known to our grandfathers, killing or maiming butchers'
bulldogs, matched for beer against the captive king of the
forest!
Here is a lion story.-One dark thundery night, a
certain caravan had pitched near a common in the West of
England. It was the watchman's duty to go round every
hour to see that all was well. When he came to the lion's
van, it was empty-the lion gone-two in the morning, a
fearful night, a strange place, que faire, as the Frenchman
408
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
has it. The fact was reported to the master, who ordered
up all the keepers, and sent them off with injunctions not
to make the least noise, and to come back every ten
minutes to report. After a while one of the men returned
to say there was something alive in a furze-bush on the
common, and that it was probably the lion. If it was the
lion, he had struck down something and was eating it, as
he could hear the bones crunch. He could not tell what
the lion had got, but it was white, very white, and was
struggling fearfully.
'The lion's van was at once drawn up near the furze
bush, and a dark lantern thrown on the victim that the lion
was munching: it was at last made out that it was a great
big white goose that Mr. Lion had picked up for his early
breakfast, and which he was loth to leave.
So they
managed to get the lion, goose, and all into his van, and to
this day the people of the neighbourhood know nothing of
a lion having been roaming their common all night, and
not even the local policeman could find the man that stole
the goose.
'In the den opposite the lions' was a pair of tigers. As
they pace up and down and cross each other's paths with-
out touching, just the tips of their tails moving, their
whiskers turned back, and singing a quiet purr-song, they
could not but excite the admiration of all lovers of tigers.
My late friend, Thomas L. Coulson, took immense pains, as
manager of the Bristol Zoological Gardens, with his tigers.
The tiger-cubs used in those days to be born in the
Zoological Gardens with cleft palates-never so at Bristol.
All depends on the feeding, a simple detail now pretty well
known to all the proprietors of large carnivora. One
CONCLUSION
409
necessary portion of a tiger's diet is that he shall have the
hair of the animal (such as the sheep or goat) left on.
'Walter has got his tigers so tame with kindness that
he goes into the den with them, and the striped beauties
seem to like his attention. Tigers, however, are but big
cats, and their tempers uncertain.
'Much has been said lately about the destruction of
life in India by tigers. It is perfectly true that many
natives, especially peasants, postmen, and women, are
annually eaten by tigers. The natives pay great super-
stitious reverence to Burra Bagh, as the tiger is called,
and will not show his whereabouts. As a rule, I am
told these “man-eating" tigers are old decrepit beasts,
which have found out that a human being is a very defence-
less animal, and easily pulled down, so they watch the
roads for the postman, and the wells for the women.
'It is possible that the natives have a good reason for
not liking all their tigers-in spite of the man-eaters—
being killed. The tigers live in the thick jungle, where,
of course, human beings do not, or rather cannot live, and
their natural food is wild deer of all kinds, and especially
wild pigs. If the tigers are exterminated, the deer and
the pigs root up and destroy their crops, and the produce
of their farms and gardens.
'At the extreme end of the lion house was the monkey
house. Among the monkeys I observed a very promising
young capuchin, the species employed by the organ men;
and so called because of the hair on the back of the head
being like the black hood of a capuchin monk; they are
far away the cleverest of monkeys, and with kindness and
attention soon pick up their education. I purchased this
410
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
capuchin; he had never been handled before, and was very
timid, clasping his hands across his chest in a devotional
attitude and making a piteous face. He also had a habit of
shaking his head when spoken to; this I have turned to
account; so "Margate Jack" and I on arriving home held
the following conversation:-" Jack, do you like Margate?"
(Shake of the head.) "No." "Did you say good-bye to the
other monkeys?" "No." "Do you like Walter ?" "No."
"Do you love the monkey boy?" "No." "Did he feed
you well?" "No."
"Had you a good bed?" "No."
"Will you go back to the Hall-by-the-Sea ?" "No."
And so the little rascal went on telling me all the lies he
could invent about Margate and his former good home, the
Hall-by-the-Sea."
To the Margate shrimps a separate article was
devoted.
There are two seaside places in England where the
sun can be seen at this time of the year to rise from the
sea and to set in the sea. The one is Cromer in Norfolk,
the other Margate in Kent. The chief exports of Mar-
gate are shrimps and grand turbots as "firm as glass
and as white as a lily." These are trawled up from "The
Falls," a fishing bank which, with the Ridge and the
Varne banks between Folkestone and Boulogne, produce
the best "butts" (local name for turbots) sent to the
London market. In the great Thames estuary, between
the North Foreland on the south and Harwich on the
north, are thousands of acres of sand plateaus, fatal to ships,
but favourable to shrimps. From this great shrimp farm
are netted up daily, hourly, from April to October,
thousands and ten thousands of shrimps; yet in spite of
CONCLUSION
411
the number caught there does not appear, except at times,
to be any falling off of these "sea flies," as they are some-
times called. There are two kinds of shrimps-the brown
and the red shrimp. A diversity of opinion obtains as to
which is the best eating. The red shrimp is really a
prawn, and carries a sword in his head. Examine this
sword, and you will see what a formidable weapon it
is. The brown shrimp carries claws, the very beauti-
ful construction of which is seldom noticed. It will be
found that at the tip of each claw is a tiny little hook,
sharp-pointed and curved like a scythe. This hook fits,
point and all, into a case, just as a knife fits into its handle.
To what use does the prawn apply his sword, the brown
shrimp his hooks? Here is a problem for observers to
solve. In spite of the advance of education in modern
times, the rising generation does not seem to be aware of
the presence of " Adam and Eve" in the brown (not the
red) shrimp's head. Just below and almost between the
horns will be found two feather-like projections. Pull
these out slowly and tenderly, hold them up to the light,
and you will see "Adam and Eve," and pretty little figures
they are.
66
As amongst ourselves, there is a feeling of caste among
the shrimps. They do not hit it off at all together, but live
in quite different places. The red shrimp prefers hard
rossy ground;" the brown yellow delights in sand, and
sand only. They differ also in their food, but both species
will eat very young mussels and cockles called "trail;" they
are more carnivorous than herbivorous. In examining a
sample of shrimps, it will be perceived that in one sample
the take runs much of a size, while in another sample there
412
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
are shrimps of all sizes, some being not much larger than
big fleas. The reason of this is that in some fishing
villages along the English coast the custom obtains of
riddling the shrimps at sea; i.e. when the net is hauled
on deck the shrimps are put into a sieve with iron wires,
and riddled over the side of the vessel; the babies fall
back into the water to grow, the big ones are consigned
to the boiling pot; and there is an art even in boiling
shrimps. This process is called "dusting the stuff." The
gauge of the riddle varies in different places, but it is
always measured by easily accessible coins. The following
are some of the tests used: Threepenny pieces, an old
penny and a farthing, twopenny pieces and a sixpence, &c.
At Leigh, near Southend, the men have a rule among
themselves, whereby every shrimper is bound in honour to
riddle his catch at sea; an excellent example, which should
be followed by all shrimpers.
'There exists much animosity between the deep-sea
trawlers and the shrimpers: the allegation against the latter
being, that they destroy the fry of such fish as soles, plaice,
turbots, skates, etc. If the lower end of the mesh of a
shrimp-net be examined, it will be found so small as to be
capable of catching a needle, and it is without doubt the
fact, that the shrimp-nets do destroy an immense quantity
of fry. To use a trawler's words, "Them chaps kills
basketfulls as would become netfulls; and in course soles
is dear." We have seen specimens of little soles from the
size of a thumb-nail up to "cats' tongues ;" and lambs'
tongues is a measure exactly representing the size of these
murdered innocents killed by the shrimpers.
'The trawlers say no sole is a sole under seven inches
CONCLUSION
413
in length. Skates and rays, not larger than a half-crown
cut into a diamond pattern, are also killed, as well as
young whitings not so large as big minnows, besides many
forms of minute and immature fish-animal lye which the
fishermen call "sea vermin," and "rubbish." To lovers.
of nature, these sea gems in the rubbish are quite as
beautiful in design and colouring as many of the works of
art turned out by jewellers. Here, for instance, we have
the star fish or "five finger," the great enemy to oysters
and mussels. Here also we find little fish, with a face like
a pantomime mask, called the "hard head" or "hook nose."
This little fellow has two sharp curved hooks at the tip of
his snout, and the rising generation of shrimpers hook the
"hard head "on the tip of their noses, and then chuck them
with a jerk backwards over their heads: here then is a new
game for London juveniles at the seaside. The shrimpers
will readily save some hook-noses if asked so to do.
"The principal shrimping grounds near Margate are
the "Queen's Channel," the "Gore," and the grounds below
the Nore Light.
When
'The art of shrimping was first discovered at Margate
by Mr. J. Shrubsall, fish merchant, of that town.
he first began, thirty years ago, he has taken from 30 to
100 gallons of shrimps at one haul. In the neighbourhood
of Pegwell Bay and Ramsgate Way most of the shrimps
are caught by "pushing "-i.e. by a hand-net worked by
a man wading. Historians have not recorded, whether the
Roman soldiers in Julius Cæsar's time, when off duty from
their fortress at Richboro', took to "Tea and shrimps."
Londoners do not pay sufficient respect to shrimps, but yet
they are of considerable importance, for the London cooks
414
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
nary
know well how to make them do duty for oysters, during
the close season for "natives," which, by the way, ends on
the 4th of this month. Shrimping, it must be remembered,
is an industry of considerable national importance, espe-
cially as affording occupation for the poor fishermen, food
for the poor people in London and the midland counties,
and training for mer and boys who afterwards join the
and the merchant service. Morecambe Bay may be
said to be placed, as regards shrimps, next in importance
to the Thames estuary; the Morecambe Bay shrimp fisheries
alone are worth about 4,000l. a year. Shrimps from this
part of Lancashire are sent mostly to the vast manufac-
turing populations of the iron districts and the midland
counties. Shrimps afford excellent natural barometers to
the fishermen-like plaice they are off into deep water
when bad weather is coming, and they "smells the frost a
coming.'
In August Frank Buckland returned to London and
went for the last time to the Fishery Office, and to the
Home Office to present his report.
In this month a large orang-outan arrived in London,
and was described in two characteristic articles sent to the
Daily News.'
The last time Frank Buckland left his house was to
visit the orang-outan.
· August 21, 1880.-There is now in London one of the
largest orangs that has ever been brought to this country.
Young orangs are by no means uncommon, but they are
excessively delicate and difficult to rear; in fact, they
are only babies. These young orangs, when sitting in
their box wrapped in flannels, generally look very grave
CONCLUSION
415
and sedate. They have somewhat the physiognomy of
an eastern prince, who has nothing particular to do, yet
is fond of being amused by other people. The present
orang, however, is an adult, or nearly an adult, and has
all his wits about him, and is terribly fierce. He has been
brought from Malacca, and is somewhere between four
and five feet high, if not bigger. As his brilliant and
watchful eyes peer through the bars at the visitors, it will
be seen that his physiognomy differs as much from that of
the infant members of his family, as does the expression of
a child a year or two old from that of an adult man, in full
mental and bodily vigour. He is covered with hair of a
reddish colour, and is a little bald on the top of the head,
giving him rather a professional appearance. He evidently
thinks his present apartment is not big enough for him, for
he is continuously shaking his cage, and so tremendous is
his strength of arm and hand, that should anything give
this "wild man of the woods a chance, it would not be
long before he would be off; and then who is to catch
him again? Such an event, however, is not likely to
happen, as Mr. Orang's teeth, though tremendous weapons,
cannot bite through iron chains.
There is just space
""
enough between two of the bars for him to put out his
hand and arm, and he is continually stretching out his long
hairy arm to see if he can clutch anything or anybody
with his hand, which, though a veritable hand, is more
like a foot. The fingers are small and tapering, very
strong, and about five inches long. Both his foot and
hand are most admirably adapted for living in trees, hist
hand forming a natural grapnel, by means of which he can
swing himself from branch to branch, while the great toe
416
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
of his foot acts as does the thumb in our own hand.
When attempting to walk he makes a very poor go of it,
using his long arms to support himself, just as a cripple
works his crutches. At home in his tropical forest he
doubtless could spin along the tree tops at a Derby pace.
The hair about his head is so arranged that he appears to
wear whiskers. He has, moreover, a reddish beard, and
under this beard is a very remarkable pouch, the use of
which has not as yet been clearly ascertained. As, how-
ever, it is capable of dilatation with air, it is, in all proba-
bility, directly connected with the organ of voice. It is
not necessary to go to his native woods to hear him sing,
as, when in a temper, his oratorical remarks are couched in
language which no one can fail to understand. It is a
wonder to me how the natives ever managed to catch
him, whether as an infant, or of full growth.
Three great tailless apes are known to naturalists—the
gorilla, the chimpanzee, and the orang. The existence of
the gorilla was first made known about thirty years ago,
when a traveller in the Gaboon country, on the West Coast
of Africa, discovered a skull fixed on a post, in a dark and
gloomy part of the forest. It was ornamented with broad
red stripes, crossed by a white stripe. The natives regarded
it as a
"fetish," and treated it with the greatest reverence
and respect. It was the skull of a very large gorilla. We
have never yet seen a full-grown gorilla in this country;
but the orang just arrived from Malacca is by far the
largest specimen of these apes, and is therefore of the
highest interest. Orang-outan, in the Malay language,
signifies the "wild man." These "wild men
are found
in the islands of Sumatra and Borneo. They are forest
CONCLUSION
417
animals, and rarely seen. The orang is a purely diurnal
animal, as the pupil of his eye-like that of a dog, and
not of a cat-will tell us. He is probably the animal
which gave rise to the "Satyr," "Pan," and the "Fauns"
of Roman times. The islands of the orang's home are
nearly all covered with a dense, gloomy, tropical forest, and
what is not forest is jungle or swamp. They are nearly
under the Equator, and therefore well suited as the habitat
of these big apes, especially as fruits are abundant. It is
in these forests, where human beings cannot and dare not
enter, that the orang is lord and master. Of their habits,
and the maximum size to which they attain, nobody
—not even the native hunter--can tell us much, if any-
thing. The old males live solitary lives in the forests,
but the young ones follow their mother, and are said to stay
a long time under her guardianship, and (as may be seen
sometimes at the Zoological Gardens) the baby ape clings
round the neck of the mother, who carries her infant about
among the tree tops. It is at this time that young
orangs are caught. It is probable that somehow or other
this adult orang was not caught young, but was trapped
or snared when adult.
The orang is very intolerant of cold; yet his native
forests are, when the sun goes down and the fog rises,
very cold at night. Under these circumstances, the orang
creeps in among the parasitic orchids, and, making a sort of
nest, covers himself all over. This habit the animal at
Westminster retains, and it will be seen that he is very
fond of his blanket, and frequently wraps himself up alto-
gether, leaving just a peep-hole, through which he inspects
his visitors. His eyes are very close together, but very
EE
418
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
bright, watchful, and observant; he is also very quick of
hearing.
'When a man performs the part of a monkey, whenever
he possibly can he stands upright; the orang, on the con-
trary, whenever he possibly can, goes on all fours. His hand,
in fact, is a grapnel. We men have the power of placing the
thumb so as to meet the tip of any finger on the same hand
-hence the principal superiority of man over all other
animals, inasmuch as by means of the thumb he can make
himself clothes, procure food, forge weapons, &c. The
thumb of the orang, on the contrary, is on his foot.
Lascars and other sailors use their great toes in climbing
ropes, and the Australian savages are very clever in climb-
ing up trees and picking up very small articles with the
naked feet. Civilised men lose much by not using their
great toes, which may be easily educated to work. The
orang's foot is admirably contrived for living in trees.
When sitting on a flat surface he tucks his legs under him,
but when sitting on a bough he holds on by means of the
thumb of his foot. As regards his brain power, much is yet
to be learnt, as, though anatomically similar, the brain of
this big monkey is far below the standard of intelligence of
even the lowest of the human race. Let us instance one
point. No monkey of any species, where the experiment has
been tried, would ever put a stick or coal on to an expiring
fire; he would sit and shiver by the fire till it goes out. His
mind is not sufficiently acute to see the connection between
cause and effect, so as to put coal on to keep the fire going.
There is another thing, showing the great difference between
a man and a tailless ape, such as the orang. If an object
be given to a monkey he immediately smells at it, even if
CONCLUSION
419
that object is not meant for food purposes. Human beings
do not do this; they trust to the eyes and the touch.
Again, when even the most savage of men fight, it is very
seldom indeed we hear of their biting each other; but the
moment the monkey's "monkey is up," that instant he
begins to use his teeth and to bite. Their teeth are
weapons of offence and defence, while our teeth we use
instinctively for much more peaceful purposes. When big
baboons are introduced to each other for the first time,
they generally pretend to yawn. This is really to show
each other their long, sabre-like, canine teeth, and to say,
"Look out; I have as sharp teeth as you."
C
There are so many gentlemen who have leisure and
means, that we beg to suggest that those who have the
opportunity should make it their pleasure and business to
visit some of these orangs in their tropical forests. Let
them, for once, leave the gun and rifle at home, and take
only the telescope and field-glass, the sketch-book and
pencil. Naturalists and anatomists know quite enough
of the structure, as compared with man, of the orang,
gorilla, and chimpanzee. There are skeletons and skins in
abundance of all these in England, but nobody, not even
Professor Owen himself, can tell the social manners and
customs of an animal from his skeleton and the structure
of his muscles. What is wanted now to fill up this vacant
gap is an account of the home life of these great apes.
This is not to be obtained by shooting and persecuting
them; but by meeting them, as it were, in a friendly
manner. Much has lately been said as to the relationship
of man with monkeys. In purely physical structure the
architecture of the monkey is not unlike that of the human
420
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
being. When, however, the very lowest of the human
race is placed alive, and in good health, alongside the very
highest of the monkey family, it will be immediately
perceived that there is a vast gulf between the two, which
has never been bridged over.'
The Centenary of Whitebait was recorded in another
article:-
66
It
'September 1, 1880.-Her Majesty's Ministers, when
sitting down to-day to their whitebait dinner at Greenwich,
should not fail to recollect that the present year commemo-
rates the hundredth year of the eating of whitebait.
was in 1780 that one Richard Cannon, a fisherman of
Blackwall, first introduced whitebait as a savoury dish.
From that time to the present it has gradually grown in
public favour, till at last the industry of whitebait catching
has been promoted to an important branch of British
fishery industries. This year it was as nearly as possible
a case of a whitebait dinner without whitebait." We
have it on the authority of the largest dealer in whitebait
in Billingsgate Market, that whitebait fishing has been
over now about a fortnight; special boats therefore have
been put on, on purpose to get the requisite supply for
to-day's dinner. The proper whitebait season is con-
sidered by the principal Thames fishermen to begin when
Parliament begins, and end when Parliament ends.
is the rule they have gone by for many years past, or, to
put it according to the almanack, they begin with their
nets in February, and go on to the middle of August. This
year Parliament has held its sittings so late, that the white-
bait, not being able to wait so long, have adjourned to the
sea, thence to return as sprats about next November,
This
CONCLUSION
421
""
At
especially being careful to remember that they are due at
the Mansion House on the 9th of November. 66 Bait," as
it is technically called, varies much in size and quality
according to the season of the year. Thus, in February
and March, considerable numbers of "yawlings " are
caught. These are without doubt "yearling" herrings.
In June and July the bait run very small, and "heads and
eyes" appear in the nets. These are very minute, gela-
tinous little creatures, so transparent that the bright,
silvery eye is the most noticeable portion of them.
various times of the year appear also "Polwigs," i.e.
young gobies and "Rooshans," infant weaver fish, as
likewise "buntings" (brown) and red shrimps, sand eels,
sticklebacks, &c. We have carefully examined a sample
of the "bait" similar to that which will be caught to-day
for the dinner. It consists almost entirely of young sprats
-lovely little fish, as silvery as a new shilling, and in
excellent condition. It has lately been alleged that killing
this fry is a wasteful process, and that they should be
allowed to grow into adult fish, but in the estuary of the
Thames sprats are not falling off-in fact, it often happens
in the winter months that Billingsgate market is over-
stocked with sprats in consequence of so many "garvies
(Scotch for sprats) being sent from Inverness and other
firths of Scotland. This also accounts for the fact that,
when abundant, sprats are largely used for manure for
the Kentish hop-gardens and turnip fields.
''The value of whitebait as whitebait is very large. One
firm alone pays 100l. a week in wages during the season,
and at another place about 1,000l. a year is coming in as
wages to the whitebait catchers. Under these circum-
422
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
""
stances it is not likely that Parliament will ever be asked
to make it illegal for the fishermen to catch or the public
to eat whitebait. As regards the origin of the term
whitebait, in former times these little fishes were used as
"bait
for the crab pots; then as now they were very
bright and silvery, and were called "white-bait,” in con-
tradistinction to other baits that were not white. When
they became fashionable as food for Londoners they still
retained their name "whitebait," by which appellation.
they will probably be still known at ministerial dinners
for many years to come.'
A severe relapse occurred, and Frank Buckland now well
knew his days were numbered; yet, notwithstanding the
distressing nature of his malady, he gave unremitting
energy to his literary work.
Articles from his pen continued to appear in the daily
papers and Land and Water.'
A new edition of the 'Natural History of British Fishes'
was carried through; also a revised edition of 'White's
Natural History of Selborne;' both completed in the last
month of his life.
He arranged and partly revised a series of his articles,
which were published shortly after his death under the
title of Notes and Jottings from Animal Life.'
C
Those who saw him during his long illness will well
remember how soon the distressed look of disease would
give way to his old bright smile, and even merry laugh, as
he poured out his last droll story, or quaint bit of know-
ledge, till he would stop and say, 'Is it not strange, when I
am talking to you I forget my illness?' At first it seemed
hard to be cut short in full career of energy and usefulness.
CONCLUSION
423
He likened himself to Job, and wondered why he was so
sorely tried; but when the end drew near, he bowed himself
to the Supreme Will, and, not unconscious of error, or that
a nature so vehement was not always subject to due
control, he received the last rites of Christianity, and pre-
pared to die at peace with God and man. 'God is so good,'
he said, 'so very good to the little fishes, I do not believe
He would let their inspector suffer shipwreck at last.'
'I am going a long journey where I think I shall see
a great many curious animals. This journey I must go
alone.'
He died on December 19, and his body was laid to
rest in Brompton Cemetery on Christmas Eve 1880).
'I think it not improbable,' he wrote in his private
diary in 1846, 'that, in a future state, the mind will be
allowed a greater scope of knowledge, and the gates of
omniscience will be thrown open to it, so that those things,
which it now sees through a glass darkly, will be opened
to the view and understanding. O most glorious reward,
for a mind occupied here on earth in investigating the
wonderful works of the Creator, from the magnificent and
stupendously grand scene of geology, and the theory of the
heavens, to the minute and delicate construction of a
microscopic animalcule, or the immeasurably fine thread of
a plant!'
His last work was the preface to the 'Natural History
of British Fishes,' which was sent to press two days before
his death. It was thought out in nights of pain, and
dictated in the morning in intervals of gasping breath.
After insisting on the national importance of British
fisheries, he continues: 'I have another object in writing
421
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
this book; it is to endeavour to show the truth of the good
old doctrine of the Bridgewater Treatises, which have so
ably demonstrated the power, wisdom, and goodness of
God as manifested in the Creation. Of late years, the
doctrines of so-called Evolution and Development have
seemingly gained ground among those interested in
natural history; but to put matters very straight, I
steadfastly believe that the Great Creator, as indeed we are
directly told, made all things perfect and "very good" from
the beginning; perfect and very good every created thing
is now found to be, and will so continue to the end of
time. I am very willing to prove my case, by holding a
Court at any time or place, before any number of people of
any class. I would impanel a jury of the most eminent
and skilful railway and mechanical engineers, while the
only witnesses I should call would be the fish fresh from the
deep-sea trawler, the city fish market, or the fishmonger's
slab: I would adduce from them evidence of " design,
beauty, and order," as evinced in such as the electric
organs of the torpedo, the gun-lock spine of the file-fish, the
water reservoirs and spectacles of the eel, the teeth of the
gilt-head bream, the anchor of the lump sucker and remora,
the colouring of the perch and bleak, the ichthyopha-
gous teeth of the pike, shark, and silvery hair-tail, the tail
of the fox shark, the prehensile lips of the dory and sprat,
the nose of the barbel and dogfish, the resplendence of
the arctic gymnetrus and scabbard fish, the dagger in the
tail of the sting-ray, the nest of the stickleback, the
armour plates of the sturgeon, the nostril-breathing powers
and store of fat in the salmon; migrations of the salmon,
herring, pilchard, sprat, and mackerel; and, above all, the
CONCLUSION
425
enormous fertility of fishes useful as food to the human
race. I am satisfied that I should obtain a verdict in
favour of my view of the case, namely, that in all these
wonderful contrivances there exists evidence of design and
forethought, and a wondrous adaptation of means to an end.’
Thus to trace the power of the Creator in His works,
and to increase the use of His creatures to mankind, were
to Frank Buckland the chief ends of natural history, and
the chief purpose of his life.
He was indeed slow, nay, unwilling, to admit the truth
of Darwin's teaching, and of the theory of evolution, too
often represented as superseding the necessity of a Creator,
and the evidence of design; and he often humorously but
vehemently protested against his supposed relationship to
his monkey pets. The point of his protest was against
the notion that chance could produce the order of the
universe, or a monkey develop itself into a man.
To him, the old notion of a universe formed by a for-
tuitous concourse of atoms, was not more unreasonable, than
the notion of the harmony of Nature, or the structure of
any beast or fish, being the result of a mere chance combi-
nation of circumstances. Each alike must beget chaos.
Darwin himself intended nothing in his theories ad-
verse to religion, and, while exploring the depths of the
history of animal life, saw that the origin of life, the power
and laws of reproduction, the energy of variability, and
that correlation of growth, which controls variation and
educes harmony, were alike inscrutable.¹
Evolution, therefore, is but a mode of creation, and
each varying birth, however subject to natural law, an act
Origin of Specics, 6th edit., pp. 10, 106, 421.
426
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
of creative power; and could a chain of development be
traced throughout, even from inert matter, through proto-
plasm and zoophyte, through reptile, mammal and ape,
direct to man, then, unless the clod endowed itself with
motion, sense and reason, the sum would be the same—that
God formed man out of the dust of the ground, and
breathed into him the breath of life.
How gradual or how rapid changes of animal form
have been may well be debated. Plants vary much by
sports, errant seedlings, which again are specially variable
and favour rapid change. The analogy of plants, the more
plastic nature of varieties among animals, the defined
character of species and lack of intermediate forms, may
indicate that changes in animal forms were often more.
marked or sudden than some have supposed.
However this may be, the controversy, whose fires are
but now dying out, between those who admire in the
present system of nature the evidence of design, and those
who would trace back the laws of growth under which
that system has been built up, shows (like the gold and
silver shield) but two sides of the same truth. As Coper-
nicus and Newton disturbed but to enlarge men's knowledge
of the wonders of the heavens, and Dr. Buckland and
other geologists widened the former limited conceptions of
the structure of the earth, so the more profound and com-
plex the laws of the history of animal life are found, the
deeper should be our apprehension of the Creative Power
and Skill which Frank Buckland and his father loved to
explain and illustrate.
By his will Frank Buckland gave his Museum to the
nation, to be retained at South Kensington; the rest of his
CONCLUSION
427
property he bequeathed to his widow, after whose death
5,000l. was given to found a lectureship on fish culture, in
connection with his Museum.
The Museum contains about four hundred casts of fish,
mostly moulded with his own hands, besides a large collec-
tion of other objects, illustrating the science of fish and
oyster culture.
A marble bust of Frank Buckland has been placed, by
subscription, in his Museum.
From among many letters testifying to the public and
private loss Frank Buckland's death occasioned, the
following 'Recollections,' sent by Mr. Archibald Young to
the 'Scotsman,' may be quoted:
'Having been intimately associated with Mr. Buckland
for eleven years, we naturally wish to express our sorrow
for his death, our respect for his memory, and to bear our
testimony to his many gifts and attractions as a colleague
and a companion. We first made his acquaintance in
1870, when appointed along with him to inquire into and
report upon the effect of recent legislation on the Salmon
Fisheries of Scotland. During that year we travelled
together for four months throughout Scotland, visiting all
the fishing districts, and inspecting upwards of sixty
salmon rivers, so that we had ample opportunities of no-
ticing Mr. Buckland's quickness of observation, and his
intimate acquaintance with the habits of the salmon, and
of admiring his kind, genial, and obliging disposition. At
that time he was in the prime of life, somewhat under the
middle height, but broad-shouldered and powerfully built,
with a clever pleasant face, in which the most noticeable
4
features were the large, dark, expressive eyes.
He was
428
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
about the most true and genuine man we ever met, with-
out a particle of affectation, saying what he thought and
felt simply and naturally. He learned to have a thorough
enjoyment of life in all its phases; and it would have
been difficult to say whether he was most at home in the
polished society of a luxurious country house, or while
engaged in demonstrating the anatomy of a salmon, a
herring, or a lobster to a group of fishermen assembled
round a fishing-boat on the beach. At that time he took
but little care of himself, and thought nothing of wading
across a river up to his waist, even though he could not
change his wet clothes for hours afterwards; or minutely
examining the structure and details of a salmon-ladder while
up to his knees in water. At that period he seemed to
have a wonderful amount of latent caloric, and never
appeared to feel cold. He was a great smoker, and to him
a pipe or a cigar was an absolute necessary of life. Yet
his constant smoking never seemed to spoil his appetite
or to lessen his natural vivacity and flow of spirits. On
every subject, which bore upon his special study of natural
history, whether connected with our inquiry or not, he
took a lively interest. In politics, too, he felt keenly, and
was a strong Conservative and Church of England man.
¿
'In the close of 1876, we had again the pleasure of
being associated with Mr. Buckland in an inquiry into
the Crab and Lobster Fisheries in Scotland; and an
excellent specimen of his happy manner of dealing with
subjects in natural history, which in other hands would
prove tiresome and uninteresting, will be found in the
paper in the appendix to the Report "On the Natural
History of Crabs and Lobsters." What will those who
CONCLUSION
429
object to crab and lobster suppers say to the following
extract ?—“The presence of phosphorus in the lobster is
of great importance to the consumers of these sea luxuries;
there is no substance which conveys phosphorus so readily
into the human system in an agreeable form, and which
the system so readily and quickly assimilates, as the flesh
of crabs and lobsters. For this reason lobsters, crabs, and
oysters should form the diet of those engaged in business
or arduous literary pursuits, where there is much wear
and tear of the brain powers by thought, and therefore an
extra supply of phosphorus is required for the food of the
brain. It is for this reason, I imagine, that lobsters and
crabs are generally eaten and most esteemed for supper.
The brain towards night begins to feel a little exhausted,
the lobster, crab, or oyster quickly supplies the want, and
the system immediately feels the effect." In August and
September 1877, we were again the colleague of Mr.
Buckland in an inquiry into the Herring Fisheries of
Scotland, during which not only the coasts of Scotland
were visited, but likewise the Hebrides and the Orkney
and Shetland Islands. Mr. Buckland's individual contri-
butions to the report, published in 1878, which followed
upon this inquiry, are highly interesting, and consist of
two papers in the appendix entitled "Notes on the
Natural History of the Herring," and the "Garvie
Fisheries of Scotland."
'Not very long after the publication of this report,
Mr. Buckland's health began to fail, and when we next.
met him, on the inquiry connected with the Salmon Disease,
we were struck with the change in his appearance. The
robust frame had shrunk, and the healthy cheek paled.
430
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
He seemed but the shadow of his former self. Yet his
interest in his favourite pursuits was unabated, and his
mind was as actively vivacious as ever. But sitting in
close rooms and examining witnesses during a long day
exhausted him, and brought on distressing attacks of
asthma, and he was ultimately obliged to give up assisting
at the concluding inquiries.
'We have hitherto spoken only of Mr. Buckland's
labours with reference to the Scotch fisheries. As
memorials of his more special work connected with the
fisheries of England and Wales, nineteen annual reports
remain, of which the last, published in 1880, contains an
excellent account of the natural history of salmon. In
1879, a most able and exhaustive report on the Sea
Fisheries of England and Wales was drawn up by Mr.
Buckland and Mr. Walpole; and one of the best things
lately written by Mr. Buckland occurs in the appendix,
and is entitled "A Short History of the Commercial,
Trawl-net, Drift-net, and Hook Fish alluded to in the
foregoing Report."
"In "Land and Water," of which he was the chief
pillar and support, Mr. Buckland continued to write almost
until the close of his career, and the number published on
the 18th of the present month contains a paper from his
hand on the different species of oysters. Writing, indeed,
seems to have been the solace and amusement as well as
the business of his life. He wrote a great deal, and easily
and rapidly, not only at his office and at his house, but in
railway carriages, steamboats, and other public convey-
ances. His writings, like those of most men who have
written so much and so rapidly, are unequal, but the best
CONCLUSION
431
of them are admirable. The style is thoroughly original,
and wonderfully descriptive, bringing the object or scene
written about clearly and vividly before the reader's eye;
and it may safely be affirmed that no one has ever done
more to render natural history popular and attractive.
'Mr. Buckland was a delightful companion, kind,
helpful, of a joyous buoyant temperament, and abounding
in anecdotes of his medical student days; of his career as
doctor in the Life Guards; of his Museum of economic
fish-culture at South Kensington; of Jamrach's menagerie;
of the Zoological Gardens; of everything in and about
London and elsewhere relating to natural history; all told
with a vigour and spirit that added to their intrinsic
interest. He was deservedly and justly a public favourite;
but it is only his intimate friends and associates who can
know what a good and gifted man has passed away from
among us into the silent land.'
'No more zealous, truth-loving, or painstaking man,
said another friend,' 'ever studied more earnestly or de-
scribed more accurately the various gifts and instincts, the
nature and habits of birds and beasts. A quaint vein of
humour runs through his writings, which must commend
them to every reader, especially to the young; and few
writers have conveyed more varied and useful information.
His conversation, which generally turned upon subjects.
connected with his favourite study, was equally animated,
instructive, and amusing. Who that knew him has ever
forgotten his hearty jocund laugh, and the half-comic
earnestness with which he enforced his favourite dogmas?
¹ Mr. George Rooper: President's Address to Hertfordshire Natural
History Society, 1883.
432
LIFE OF FRANK BUCKLAND
Buckland emulated White and Waterton in never stating
anything as a fact, of which he had not satisfied himself
by actual experiment. I once found him cooking a piece
of a dead kelt. "Good gracious!" I said, "how can you
eat anything so abominably nasty?" "No doubt," he said,
"it is nasty enough, but how can I say so unless I have
tried it?"
'I remember his earnest wistful face, as he contemplated
a large oyster, of what kind I know not, but it was almost
as big as a cheese-plate. He looked at it once or twice
with an evident wish to experiment upon its flavour, but
although blessed with a very strong stomach, his resolution
failed him, and he resolved to make the experiment
vicariously. He called in a dustman, and on the prin-
ciple of fiat experimentum in corpore vili, offered him a
shilling to eat it. The spirit of the dustman was willing
but his stomach weak, and he recoiled from the under-
taking. Buckland increased the bribe by an added pot of
porter. On this the dustman devoured half the tempting
bivalve, but suddenly retired without completing the
experiment, and the precise flavour of that oyster is still
locked unrecorded in the dustman's breast.
6
Well, he has passed away and has left his works behind
to speak of him. His works, as his memory,
will long
endure, a monument of patient, kindly, and scientific
observation.'
The successive exhibitions of pisciculture at Norwich,
at Edinburgh, and in London, and their remarkable
popularity, are no slight evidence of the extent to which
Frank Buckland had evoked a popular interest in his
favourite science.
CONCLUSION
433
Those who would know Frank Buckland better should
read his books, which, after all, form his best portraiture.
In these, the incidents of his life, his pets, his queer com-
panions, are made familiar, and on this thread are strung
a fund of curious information and droll anecdote. These
seem to talk to us in his old tones, and recall his spark-
ling eye and merry laugh, his restless energy, and tender-
ness of feeling for man and beast.
LONDON: PRINTED BY
SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE
AND PARLIAMENT STREET
FF
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