somehow hitched herself on to him as a companion in his rambles. "The
first overtures were entirely on her own side, and it was some time
before this acquaintance ripened into friendship. She was a delicate
child, and her playfellow--for such he became--prescribed Fresh Air
and no Lessons; and so off they would go for long country walks, much
to the benefit of her health, but to the detriment of her clothes. Of
the mustard poultice that sometimes these excursions rendered
necessary, and which could not be endured unless he submitted to a
similar infliction; of the delightful dolls' tea parties; of the fairy
tales, translated solely for her amusement from the French and German;
of his selections from Thackeray and Dickens, whose characters were
thus made living people to her; of the wonders that awaited her on S.
Valentine's Day, when, through his skilful management, twenty or
thirty valentines were to arrive for her from different parts of the
country; of the choice variety of sweets he purchased for her stocking
at Christmas; of all this, I wish I could discourse at greater length.
It is sufficient to say that this friendship, thus begun, lasted to
the end of his life, and was the means of relieving to a large extent
that solitude which had before surrounded him.
"On Midsummer Day, when the custom is to wear wreaths of flowers, he
would give free permission to the children to pick all the flowers in
his garden, on condition that they would come to him flower-crowned in
the evening, when he would entertain them royally with fruit and
sweetmeats. On Corpus Christi Pleasure Fair (a red-letter day for
little Cornish children) he would be seen with a small crowd of boys
and girls around him, whom he would treat to all the various shows,
waiting patiently, until their curiosity was satisfied, outside."
One great delight of Mr. Ralfs was the naturalizing of strange plants
in the neighbourhood of Penzance, amongst others the large-flowered
butterwort, and very much amused was he when some local paper with a
flourish of trumpets announced the discovery of the Pinguicula by a
botanical tourist, and a claim put forward that it was indigenous to
Cornwall.
John Ralfs died 14 July, 1890, and was buried at Penzance.
* * * * *
The second naturalist, Mr. George Carter Bignell, is happily still
alive and in full intellectual vigour, and resides in Saltash. He is a
native of Exeter, having been born in that city in 1826. He was
educated at S. John's Hospital in his native town, but had to leave it
at the age of twelve, when he was placed in a booking-office for
receiving parcels and booking passengers for the carriers who made the
"Black Lion" their head-quarters when in Exeter. These carriers came
from many small towns from twenty to fifty miles away. The yard and
stabling were connected with the "Black Lion" and the Commercial Inn,
South Street, and opposite was the office. Mr. Bignell says: "Often
have I seen these lumbering wagons with twenty magnificent horses
attached to them start from the office, the driver riding a cob by the
side. Very often such a wagon would be conveying gold from the ships
in Falmouth to the Bank of England, and in that case the wagon was
attended by a guard carrying a blunderbuss."
In this office Mr. Bignell remained till he was sixteen, and in 1842
he joined the Royal Marines at Stonehouse. He saw some foreign
service, and was on board the _Superb_ during the civil war in Spain
in 1847, and was employed on the coasts of Spain and Portugal. He was
in the squadron which succeeded in capturing a division of the rebel
army of Count Das Anton, consisting of about three thousand men.
Boats' crews put off from the ships of the squadron, and under a heavy
fire from the forts boarded and captured every vessel. The prisoners
were conveyed up the river Tagus to Fort S. Julian, where, after being
deprived of arms and ammunition, they were safely lodged.
A guard, consisting of half the complement of marines from each ship,
was placed over them, the whole body under the command of Major
Stransham.
A few days after the capture it was discovered that ammunition was
being surreptitiously conveyed into the fort by friends of the rebels,
and investigation disclosed that a plot had been hatched to blow up
the fort.
Count Das Anton pretended to be wholly ignorant of the conspiracy. The
rebels were paraded, each man searched, and every nook and cranny in
the fort thoroughly overhauled. A large quantity of gunpowder was
found, and this was promptly wheeled to the parapets in barrows and
thrown into the Tagus.
The guard placed over this large body of prisoners was small, and to
overawe the prisoners all the marines from the ships were landed every
evening at sunset and marched with fixed bayonets to the fort, with
orders to make as much noise and clatter as they could; and then at
night, when all was still, they stole silently away from the fort and
returned on board. So well was the ruse practised every day that the
prisoners were under the impression that they were guarded by a large
body, and never suspected the truth. The time at the fort was not very
pleasant to the marines on guard, as the place was filthy and
literally swarmed with fleas, and their white drill suits were so
covered with these detestable insects that the marines appeared to be
dressed in brown instead of white clothing.
This was Mr. Bignell's only taste of active service. When the _Superb_
was paid off he was employed in several offices in the barracks, first
as commanding officer's clerk, and afterwards he was appointed to the
barracks at Millbay as barrack sergeant, and he held this appointment
for seven years. By the end of this time he had served twenty-two
years. Throughout all this time he had been a keen and close observer
of nature. From his boyhood up natural history had exercised a great
attraction for him, and as he grew up, and studied, the subject became
more and more interesting. During his last seven years of service he
made considerable progress, for as a barrack sergeant he had little
work to do, and so had plenty of time to devote to his hobby.
After being discharged he became a member of the Plymouth Institution,
with the object of finding out the names of some of the insects he had
captured, and was surprised to find that it had nothing like them in
its collection, nor could anybody tell him what they were.
[Illustration: JOHN RALFS
_Reproduced by permission of Miss Loveday E. Drake_]
Mr. Bignell had barely retired from the service ere he was appointed
Registrar of Births and Deaths for the Stonehouse district and also
Poor Law Officer to the Stonehouse Board of Guardians; but his
residence is in Saltash. All his spare time has for many years been
given up to scientific pursuits, the branch of science to which he is
most partial being entomology; but since his residence in Saltash he
has been a profound student in marine flora. It is not only in the
study of the known and hitherto unregistered insects that Mr. Bignell
has acquired a world-wide fame; he has specially taken up the subject,
hitherto almost untouched, of the parasites that live on insects.
To grasp what has been done by him an examination must be made of the
entomological journals for the last forty years, for there he is
generally in evidence. In the proceedings of the Entomological Society
of London Mr. Bignell's name is quoted as being the discoverer of
fifty-one parasites, nineteen being new to science and thirty-two new to
Britain. In recognition of this work, one of the new species has been
named after him _Mesoleius Bignellii_. The Royal Cornwall Polytechnic
Society have awarded him three of their medals, a bronze one for "land
and fresh water shells," a silver one for a "collection of British
moths," and a second silver medal for "butterflies and moths."
In the publications of the Ray Society on the _Larvæ of British
Butterflies and Moths_, at the end of each volume we find a list of
parasites preying on these beautiful insects, "kindly prepared by Mr.
G. C. Bignell, F.E.S."
One of the most extraordinary features of Mr. Bignell's work is the
infinite delicacy wherewith even now at an advanced age he is able to
draw and colour his specimens. The miniature painter of a beautiful
girl's face a century ago did not take more pains to delineate the
object of his admiring study than does Mr. Bignell to obtain a
"counterfeit presentment" of some disgusting caterpillar or parasitic
insect.
The hunting for specimens would be an exhausting toil were it not a
labour of love. On one occasion Mr. Bignell obtained one hundred and
forty-one caterpillars of a certain moth in Whitsand Bay, under Fort
Tregantle. They were feeding on henbane, and as he did not know where
else to get the right sort of food for them, he had to go out two or
three times a week for the food, walking in all a hundred miles. But,
alas for the ingratitude of the caterpillars, not a single moth
rewarded all this devotion! Yet even this was outdone by a hundred and
thirty-five mile walk in the dark to attempt to capture one sort of
moth, which perhaps deserves to be mentioned for its elusive ways. It
is called the _Dasycampa rubiginea_, and has to live up to its name.
Plym Bridge was supposed to be its haunt, and its time of taking its
walks or flutter abroad, night, and that also in midwinter. So night
after night in November and December it was stalked, till one night,
between the 6th and 7th December, the moth was spotted leisurely
sipping honey from the flowers of the ivy growing on one of the
pillars of the old gateway leading into Cann Wood between Plym Bridge
and Plympton, just as the clock at Morley House was striking twelve.
A pathetic interest attaches to the large copper butterfly. This
splendid species was first discovered in Wales by the celebrated
botanist Hudson. It was subsequently captured in considerable numbers
about Whittlesea Mere, in Huntingdonshire. Now, alas! it is extinct,
and a specimen such as one possessed by Mr. Bignell is worth some
pounds. The last secured was in 1847. Greedy collectors and dealers
from London, after its discovery, were waiting for it, and offered the
country yokels five shillings for every caterpillar secured. Now it is
as extinct as the dodo and the great auk.
There would seem to be no living creature that is not a home and
feeding ground for parasites; even the butterflies are infested with
them, and probably these parasites also have others infinitely small
that attack them.
Great fleas have little fleas upon their backs to bite 'em,
And little fleas have lesser fleas--and so _ad infinitum_.
One of the most interesting discoveries made by Mr. Bignell is that a
creature like a scorpion--but all claw--that is found upon the common
house-fly is not a true parasite. It likes a ride, and to do it cheap.
And when a fly comes within reach, it lays hold of it with its
disproportionately huge claws, clings, and has a ride, free, gratis
and for nothing. When it has seen enough of the world and is tired, it
lets go and drops off.
Says Mr. Bignell: "The Blossom Underwing is a moth that was very
abundant on the male flowers of the great sallow on April 13th, 1866.
Previously this moth was very scarce; but on this night I saw at least a
thousand; they were all in pairs, and each pair occupied a flower, a
sight never to be forgotten. The fine flowering scrubby oaks were
swarming with the larvæ. A friend of mine who kept birds in a very large
cage, seeing the abundance of the caterpillars, decided to give his
birds a treat; he accordingly gathered about a pint of them, carried
them home, and instead of giving the birds two or three at a time, he
incautiously put the tin into the cage and removed the lid. At once the
caterpillars began to escape, and the seething mass of black and yellow
wriggling over the floor, crawling about the wires, so frightened the
birds that it caused the death of two of three, which beat themselves
against the cage in vain hope to escape from these uncanny horrors."
As may be well imagined, Mr. Bignell with his lantern stealing up the
side of a hedge in the night often enough routed the poachers and sent
them flying, thinking they were being watched by a policeman. On one
occasion he scared an owl. "I was enjoying myself, on my knees,
hunting over the contents of my net that I had used for sweeping the
low foliage, to see what captures I had made. My nose and bull's-eye
lantern were thrust close to the ground, to prevent anything escaping
observation. In the midst of this occupation an owl swooped down to
see what was up, when I turned my lantern on him, and away he flew in
a mighty hurry, bringing the back of his wings together with great
force, like a man clapping his hands. He was evidently in great alarm,
and uttered an unearthly scream. It certainly gave me also a turn, it
was so sudden."
All moths with highly pectinated antennæ, that is to say with their
feelers comb-like at the extremities, have the most extraordinary
power of scenting a female moth at a great distance, even two or three
miles, with a favourable wind.
Mr. Bignell says: "I once had a virgin female of the Oak-egger moth,
and was desirous of getting some males. I started off with the lady in
a tin box, with a perforated zinc top, to give her air and allow her
perfume to escape. I walked through the fields towards Milehouse to
where was a turnstile; and at this spot lighted on a weary policeman
resting. As it was a dull day, without any token of the sun breaking
out, to attract butterflies for their usual gambols, the policeman
jeeringly remarked that I had missed the right day. I replied that I
thought not, and that I could collect as many as I desired, in fact, I
could make them come to me. He laughed incredulously. I then took out
my tin box and placed it on the wall, and, magician-like, whistled and
waved my hand. The policeman stared, and thought I was befooling him.
But lo, in two or three minutes one male alighted close to the box,
soon followed by others, and in a quarter of an hour I had at least
fifty, and so tame that I picked them up with my fingers and
distributed them among about a dozen people who had gathered to see
what I was about. The policeman stared with open eyes and mouth, quite
satisfied that my whistle and mysterious signs in the air with my hand
had called the insects to me. Satisfied with what I had got I waved
again and bade the moths depart, and clapped the box in my pocket.
Next day I took the empty box out with me into the country. I had
several males following me, and some actually penetrated into my
pocket where was the empty box, proving that the perfume still
remained in it, though wholly imperceptible to myself."
On one occasion Mr. Bignell and a friend set out at night to find the
beautiful moth _Heliophobus hispidus_, knowing its haunts, between the
south side of the Plymouth citadel and the sea, where it is to be
found in September or October resting on the grass.
Accordingly, each furnished with a bull's-eye lantern, they visited
the locality, but it was some time before one was discerned, and that
was on a blade of grass overhanging the cliff and out of reach, a
sheer drop of twenty feet at least into the sea fretting and moaning
below. Loath to miss it, as its eyes shone like two rubies--in fact,
both saw those glistening eyes before they observed that they were in
the head of the moth--they arranged that one should lie flat on his
stomach, and that Mr. Bignell should sit down, dig the heels of his
boots into the turf, then take his friend by the legs and thrust him
over the edge of the cliff, so far as to enable him to box the moth,
whilst holding the handle of his lantern between his teeth. This was
done, and the _Heliophobus_ was secured.
But, after all, it is in the direction of parasites living upon
insects that Mr. Bignell has made the greatest research. He is the
possessor of a unique collection of the parasites that live on the
aphis, and also of the hyper-parasite which preys upon that parasite.
The life-history of this insect was unknown till Mr. Bignell detected
a hyper-parasite pierce the aphis which was itself a parasite. The
specimen was secured, and from it was bred the hyper-parasite itself.
The life-story of the aphis, that tiny green pest that infests the
roses, has been unrolled by this enthusiastic student, and is full of
surprises. The ichneumon fly as well has been watched, and all its
wicked acts recorded.
Caterpillars, so fat and fleshy, form a delightful feeding ground for
the deposit of eggs, and serve as luscious food for the young to
pasture upon. We human beings, in common with all mammals, have the
obligation imposed on us of nourishing our own young, and with some of
us we go on sustaining them till we are exhausted in the process, but
the ichneumonidæ are more clever than we. They make others, notably
the caterpillars, maintain their young, and the frivolous mothers,
after having once deposited their eggs, gad about and enjoy themselves
as having no concern for their future well-being. It is a comfort to
reflect that the insects thus preyed upon do not seem to suffer much,
if at all, and it may almost be said that they exhibit a maternal
regard for the young bred out of their bodies.
With his wonderful microscopes Mr. Bignell can explore far down the
ladder of life, but whether to its lowest rung may well be doubted.
There is always some living being to be found preying on the last of
the minutest creature last seen.
After a visit to Mr. Bignell's house in Saltash with a friend, I
turned to him and said: "I came here believing myself to be an
Individual. I leave knowing myself to be a Community."
SIR JOHN CALL, BART.
The _Dictionary of National Biography_ says of Sir John Call that he
was "descended from an old family which, it is said, once owned
considerable property in Devon and Cornwall." That proviso "it is
said" is conveniently inserted. Anything may be said, as that the cow
jumped over the moon, but that a saying may be believed we must know
who uttered it. Now the originator of this saying was probably William
Playfair, in his _British Family Antiquity_, 1809. In that the
following interesting statement occurs: "From papers in the possession
of the family, partly fabulous, though partly true, it appears that
the family of the Calls, consisting of three brothers, came into
England from Saxony towards the end of the eighth century. One of
these brothers settled in Scotland, from whom is descended the clan of
the McColls; the second in Norfolk, where the family continued until
the beginning of the last (eighteenth) century; and the third settled
in Cornwall, from whence the present family derives its origin. This
very ancient, but latterly not very opulent family, was formerly
possessed of considerable landed property both in Devonshire and
Cornwall, which was first reduced by the civil wars in the time of
Henry VII, and afterwards nearly annihilated, in consequence of the
loyal attachment of some of its individuals to the royal cause during
the civil wars in the reign of Charles I."
[Illustration: SIR JOHN CALL, BART.
_From a portrait (by A. Hickle) in the possession of his
great-granddaughter, Mrs. de Lacy Lacy_]
Why was the eighth century fixed on for the advent of the Calls upon
the scene? Presumably because the first Norsemen arrived in 787.
Conceive the Calls coming over in a dragon ship, filled with berserker
rage, to ravage England and glut themselves with our blood.
But we shall look for Calls in vain among the records of the past. As
it happens, Saxons and Northmen had no family, only personal names.
The story is as absurd as that also put forth that Callington derived
its name from the Calls, who only settled near it in 1770.
But these "family papers" are not so ancient as Sir John Call, who
would have been above such a pretence. As a matter of fact, the
account supplied to Playfair shows a surprising ignorance in the
writer as to the existence of Heralds' Visitations, Inquisitiones post
mortem, Wills, Royalist Composition Papers, Parish Registers, and all
the material at hand to confirm or disprove reckless genealogical
assertions. Playfair does admit that the story contained in the
"family papers" is "partly fabulous." He might have said that it was
fabulous from beginning to end.
The Calls had no right whatever to bear arms, till a grant was made to
them--after reading the above flourish not inappropriate--of three
trumpets.
The MS. "Names of Gentlemen in Devonshire and Cornwall with their
Arms," drawn up by John Hooker, _alias_ Vowell, in 1599, is the only
armoury of the West that gives the name of Call with arms: Party per
pale or and gules; upon a chief az. 3 geese sable. But he gives no
indication of place where such a gentleman possessed land--and that,
before this "opulent family" had been ruined by the civil wars. Hooker
probably included the name, because, at the time, there was some
gentleman Call from another part of England living in Exeter. That
the Calls of Whiteford had no claim to his arms, nor could exhibit
descent from him, is shown by their not adopting his coat. In a MS.
armoury of all England dating from 1632, that belonged to C. Pole, the
name and arms of Call do not occur.
According to Foster's _Baronetage_, the Calls hailed from Prestacott,
in Launcells.
Actually the great-grandfather of Sir John was of Grove, in Stratton,
a tenant farmer. A good many Calls appear in the register of the
parish, never with _gent._ appended to the name, or even with Mr.
preceding it, a title generally accorded to a yeoman or a well-to-do
tradesman; and one in 1735 is buried as a pauper. Their marriages also
show to what class they belonged, with the Uglows, Tanners, and the
Jewells, in a humble walk of life.
John Call, described as of Prestacott, in Launcells, was born in 1680,
and in 1702 married Sarah Jewell, and died in 1730.
Prestacott consisted of three very small farms on the right-hand side
of the old road from Stratton to Holsworthy. Of late years the
ramshackle buildings have been pulled down and the lands thrown
together and constituted one farm, and a new house has been built. It
belonged at the time that John Call rented one of these little
holdings to the Orchards of Hartland Abbey. John Call had two sons,
John and Richard. John was born 1st March, 1704-5, and married Jane,
daughter of John Mill, of Launcells, "the descendant of a respectable
family, which had considerable possessions there, as well as in
Middlesex," says Playfair. He might have added with equal truth that
they possessed castles in the air. As it happens, the Visitations of
Cornwall and Lysons knew nothing of the family of Mill. The Mills were
of Shernick, a farm in Launcells, which they rented of the Arundels
of Trerice. Their ledger-stones are in the parish church, but they are
never described as _gents._ Mrs. Judith Mill was buried on October
14th, 1723, and Mr. John Mill on December 1st in the same year, and
Mr. Richard Mill on July 11th, 1766.
Sarah Call, widow of John Call (without even Mr. and Mrs. prefixed),
was buried on February 1st, 1747-8. Shernick is now the property of
Sir C. T. Acland, Bart., inherited through an heiress in the
nineteenth century of the Arundels.
John Call, who married Jane Mill, had a son, the subject of this
memoir. Afterwards, when this son was rich, he set up a tablet to the
memory of his father in Launcells Church, on which he gives him the
title of "gent."
In Memory of John Call gent of Shernick
in this parish, and of Whiteford in Stoke Climsland.
He was interred in this church 3 Jan. 1767,
aged 63. Also of Jane Call his widow, who
was interred 9 Nov. 1781, aged 70.
Also of Jane Jones their daughter, wife of
the Rev^d Cadwalader Jones, minister of this parish,
who was here interred 2 April, 1790, aged
50, and of their two children, etc.
Concerning Mrs. Cadwalader Jones, more hereafter. The old gentleman,
John Call, had died on December 31st, 1766, going out with the old year.
John, the younger, was born June 30th, 1732, at Fenny Park, near
Tiverton, and was educated at a private school. For some reason or
other, not known, his mother disliked him, and when aged seventeen,
and he had been recommended to the notice of Benjamin Robbins, who was
going out to India, she refused to furnish him with the money required
for his outfit and passage to India, so that his more distant
relatives, probably the Mill family of Shernick, supplied the money.