_ANTIQUITIES—KITCHEN-MIDDENS._
EDWARD had now been working for about ten years along the
sea-shore—collecting Crustacea, Molluscs, Fish, and marine objects.
He had won his honours, and lost his health. His medical attendant
had often warned him to give up night work, and avoid exposure of all
kinds. But though Edward had given up night work and partly recovered
his health, he would not give up the study of Nature.
He was now, however, compelled to abandon it altogether.[54] The doctor
was called in again, and found him utterly prostrate. It was the old
story—fever and sore throat, the results of exposure, and perhaps of
insufficient sustenance. His illness was more serious now than it had
been before. In course of time, however, he recovered. The doctor again
had a serious talk with him. He even threatened him with a lunatic
asylum if he did not altogether abandon his out-door researches.
When Edward was able to move about, he learned to his unutterable
grief the truth, which he would fain have concealed from himself, that
his career was at an end as regarded his further researches into the
mysteries of nature. Though his mind remained as vigorous as ever,
his bodily constitution had been seriously injured. He had lost the
elasticity of manhood, and never recovered it again.
[Sidenote: _STUDIES GALVANISM._]
Edward was so completely broken down, that he was in a great measure
disabled from working at his trade. What, then, was he to do? His
doctor thought that it would be better for him to give up the trade
of shoemaking, and try something else. He advised him to study
electricity, with the view of setting up a galvanic battery. He
gave Edward books for the purpose of studying the subject. But on
considering the matter, Edward came to the conclusion that he did
not know enough of the mechanism and economy of the human system to
apply the power medicinally. Still the doctor urged him. Numerous
patients came to him to be galvanised, and he had not time to attend
to them himself; he would send all his customers to Edward. But
Edward had no desire to be a quack, and to pour galvanism, of which
he knew little, into a body of which he knew less. At length he came
to the determination not to take up the system of treating disease by
electrical methods.[55]
He was next advised to obtain some situation in connection with
Natural History,—such, for instance, as the curator of a museum. He
was already the curator of the Banff Museum, but the remuneration was
almost nominal. In 1852, he had been appointed curator at a salary
of two guineas a year. After about twelve years’ service, his salary
was increased to four guineas a year.[56] Even that was but a nominal
consideration. Edward naturally desired to obtain some position with
a salary sufficient to maintain him. But he possessed no influence;
he was too shy to push himself forward; he had no one to help him
to obtain any situation; and he eventually gave it up as a hopeless
project.
[Sidenote: _PRACTISES PHOTOGRAPHY._]
His attention was next turned to photography. He obtained a treatise on
the subject; he read and studied it; and then he purchased chemicals
and a camera. To obtain these, he again drew upon his savings bank by
selling another portion of his Natural History collection. He found the
practice of photography very agreeable, and he was at length enabled
to take a very fair portrait. But he found that really good portraits
could not be taken except in a glass-windowed apartment provided for
the purpose. He had no such apartment, and he had not money enough to
build one. His portraits were taken in the open air. Perhaps, too, he
wanted that deftness of hand and delicacy of treatment which, had he
been younger, he would more readily have mastered. For, by this time,
Edward was growing old and stiff-handed. Besides, there were other
photographers in the town, better provided with capital and machinery,
and it is scarcely to be wondered at if his trade in photographic
pictures should have been but small. Yet some of his portraits, more
particularly of himself and his family, are exceedingly well done.
[Sidenote: _ANTIQUITIES OF BANFF._]
In the meantime, however, the activity of his mind and the closeness
of his observation would not allow him to remain at rest. He had done
what he could for science. But there were other things to be thought
over and written about. One of the subjects that attracted him was
Antiquities; and he began with the Antiquities of Banff. Several
articles on the subject appeared in the _Banffshire Journal_, which
were thus introduced by the editor:—“We recently mentioned that our
townsman, Mr. Thomas Edward, was engaged in preparing notes on the
Antiquities of the town and neighbourhood. We have pleasure in giving
the following extract from his MSS. The extract, it will be seen,
embodies two important practical suggestions—one as to the obtaining
and re-erecting in the town the Old Cross of the Burgh; and the other
as to the erection of a Drinking Fountain.”
What Edward said about the ancient cross of Banff and the proposed
drinking fountain may best be given in his own words:—
[Sidenote: _THE CROSS OF BANFF._]
“Banff, like every other town, had its ‘Cross.’ Where this ancient
relic of ours had stood during the various revolutions of the burgh, we
are not aware. We are told, however, that its last stance was on the
Low Street, nearly opposite the foot of the Strait Path. From this we
believe it was suffered to be removed (to our praise as a community be
it spoken) to adorn the top of a dovecot about a mile from the town,
and on ground with which the public have nothing to do. On inquiry, we
learn that it is still the property of the town. If this is correct,
then we say, Get it back. Yes, we say get back our venerable and
time-honoured Cross. No one can fail to observe the almost universal
restoration of the old works of antiquity which is going on throughout
the country. Although nothing of this kind has yet taken place here,
our ancient Cross must be redeemed, and the sooner it is done, the
greater will be the credit due to those who accomplish it.
“Our charitable bequests, as is well known, are many and valuable.
Still, we lack at least one—one which would cost but little, and at the
same time be a universal good. There are many very wealthy individuals
in and belonging to the burgh, some of whom may yet be persuaded to
give us this desideratum. We allude to a Drinking Fountain. These
things, too, be it remembered, are becoming universal, although we have
none of them. We maintain that it would be a great and an inestimable
boon to the place.
[Sidenote: _THE DRINKING FOUNTAIN._]
“But some may ask, What has this to do with Antiquities? Well, perhaps
not much yet, but we trust it will soon have. We have said that a
drinking fountain would cost but little. Once erected, the interest of
a small sum annually would pay for the water, and keep the place in
repair. And besides tending to be a blessing to thousands, it would
be an interesting and conspicuous ornament to the town,—and one of
the most refreshing which modern ingenuity and gratitude could devise
or rear. Supposing that some of our philanthropic friends, who may
wish to have their names carried down to future generations as being
benefactors and lovers of their species, might yet think well of our
suggestion, and give us a fountain,—could not our Cross be placed upon
it as a crowning stone? We think so. And sure we are that no better
emblem, nor one more expressive, could be given to a place of the kind.
But although nothing of this kind may take place, still we would urge
the restoration of our old and venerable Cross.”
The article produced no results. The suggestion about the Cross trod
upon the toes of some person of local influence, and the idea of its
restoration was soon stamped out. The Drinking Fountain also remains to
be erected.
[Sidenote: _KJÖKKEN-MÖDDING._]
Edward was more successful in his investigations of the Kjökken-mödding
at Boyndie,—a much more interesting piece of antiquity.
Kitchen-middens, or refuse heaps, have been discovered in large
numbers along the shores of the Danish islands. Not less than a
hundred and fifty have already been found in Denmark. They consist
chiefly of castaway shells,—of the oyster, mussel, cockle, and
periwinkle,—intermixed with the bones of quadrupeds, birds, and fish.
Some of them also contain fragments of pottery and burnt clay, and rude
implements of stone and bone, which have evidently been dropped by
those who took their meals in the vicinity of the heaps, or who have
thrown them away as useless.
These shell-mounds vary in height, in breadth, and in length. They are
from three to ten feet high, and sometimes extend to a thousand feet in
length, while they vary from a hundred to two hundred feet in width.
It is evident, from these remains, that some pre-historic people were
accustomed to live along the sea-shore, or to frequent it when food
failed them in the interior, and live upon molluscs and fish. That they
ventured out to sea in canoes hollowed out of the trunk of a single
tree (such as are occasionally found in Danish peat-bogs) is obvious,
from the fact that the bony relics of deep-sea fish, such as the cod,
the herring, and the skate, are occasionally found in the shell-heaps.
No remains of any agricultural produce, nor of domesticated animals
(excepting the dog), have been found in them; so that it is probable
that the people who then occupied the land, were exclusively hunters
and fishers, and that they knew nothing of pastoral or agricultural
pursuits.
[Sidenote: _THE LAPPS OR FINNS._]
Who these ancient people were, has been the subject of much conjecture.
It is not improbable that they were Lapps or Esquimaux. The most
ancient skulls which have been found in Denmark, near the shell-mounds,
are small and round, indicating the small stature of the people. Sir
Charles Lyell says that they bear a considerable resemblance to those
of the modern Laplanders. It is probable that a great part of Europe
was originally peopled by Lapps; and that they were driven north by
the incoming of a more civilised race from the east. There are still
remnants of the Lapps in the island of Malmön, off the coast of Sweden,
in North Connaught and the island of Aran in Ireland, in the island of
Lewis off the western coast of Scotland, and in several of the Shetland
Islands.[57]
When the discoveries in Denmark came to light, and were republished in
this country, investigations began to be made as to the existence of
similar shell-mounds on the British coast. We do not know whether the
first investigations were made along the shores of the Moray Firth; but
they are the first of which we have any account. Numerous shell-heaps
had long been observed along the coast. They were raised above the
level of the highest tides; and the impression which prevailed was,
that they had been collected there at some early period by an eddy of
the ocean. The shelly deposits were also adduced in proof of a raised
sea-margin.
[Sidenote: _KITCHEN-MIDDEN AT BOYNDIE._]
The Kitchen-midden at Boyndie, near Banff, had long been known as a
famous place for shells. Hence, probably, its name of Shelly-bush.
About forty years since, Edward’s attention was drawn to it by a man
who had picked up shells from it when a boy. Edward set it down in
his mind as an old sea-margin, and although often passing it in his
journeys by the sea-side, he never thought of it as anything else. When
Professor Macgillivray, of Aberdeen, was walking with Edward along
the Links, about the year 1850, the latter pointed out to him the
shell-bank. The Professor remarked, that it did not look like any other
raised beach that he had ever seen.
Years passed; but what with cart-wheels going over it, and rude hands
picking at it, the shells and bones which it contained at length became
more clearly exposed. Still it was held to be but an ancient sea-beach.
Then came the news from Denmark about the Kitchen-middens. A paper by
Mr. (now Sir John) Lubbock, appeared in the _Natural History Review_
for October 1861, which had the effect of directing the attention of
Archæologists to the subject. “Macgillivray’s remark,” says Edward,
“instantly flashed upon me. I looked at the Shelly-bush shells in our
collection, and compared them with the raised beaches of King Edward,
and Gamrie. I saw the difference in a moment, and smiled at my own
stupidity. Away I went to the Bush, and the happy result was, that
before I returned, I had the inexpressible delight of ascertaining
that the old sea-beach was neither more nor less than a veritable
Kitchen-midden.”
[Illustration: SPYNIE CASTLE AND LOCH.]
[Sidenote: _THE LOCH OF SPYNIE._]
The Rev. Dr. Gordon of Birnie, near Elgin, had already found a
similar accumulation of shells on the old margin of the Loch of
Spynie,—formerly an arm of the sea. The mound is situated in a small
wood on the farm of Brigzes. It had been much diminished by its
contents having been carted off from the centre of the heap, as
manure or top-dressing for the adjoining fields. The mound—or rather
couple of mounds, for it has been cut into two parts—must have been
of considerable extent. It measured about a hundred yards in length,
by about thirty in breadth. The most abundant shell found was the
periwinkle, or the edible “buckie,” as it is usually called. Next in
order was the oyster; and magnificent natives they must have been. The
bay of Spynie was then a productive dredging-ground. On the extensive
flat around it, wherever a canal or ditch is dug up, the shells of
oysters are yet to be met with, seemingly on the spots where they
lived. Yet the oyster, as well as the primitive people who fared on it,
have long since passed away.
[Sidenote: _CONTENTS OF SHELL-MOUND._]
The third shell in order, in this bank of shells, is the mussel,
and then the cockle,—all edible. “There is evidence enough in these
mounds,” says Dr. Gordon, “to show that they have been the work of
man, and not the effect of any tidal current, or any other natural
cause. The shell-fish which the remains represent are, with scarcely
an exception, edible, and continue to be eaten to this day. In all
deposits by the sea, there is abundance of species that have ever
been rejected as food. The shells are full-grown, or adult shells. In
collections made by the sea, the young animals are abundant, and often
predominate. Now, no movements of wind and water could have thus
selected the edible and the adult, and left behind the noxious and the
young. They must have been gathered by man, and for the purpose of
supplying his wants. Many other arguments have been brought forward
to prove this, so that no doubt is now entertained about the matter.
One strong proof is, that the periwinkle and the oyster are never
found living and mingled together in the same part of the sea. The
former exists between tide-marks, the other in deep water. The cockle
delights in sand; the mussel must be moored to a rock or hard bottom.
In different parts of the masses of shells at Brigzes, there are to be
seen many stones that have been subjected to considerable heat. They
probably have been used in this state for cooking, as is known to be
the case among people of primitive habits to this day.”
[Sidenote: _CONTENTS OF BOYNDIE MOUND._]
The shells found by Edward in the kitchen-midden at Boyndie
corresponded in a great measure with those found by the Rev. Mr.
Gordon at Brigzes. Thus, he found the Periwinkle, the highly-esteemed
Buckie, the Limpet, the Horse Buckie (in some places called the Dog
Periwinkle), the Mussel; bones of various kinds of wild animals,
such as the Deer, the Hare, and the Rabbit; the remains of several
species of fish, such as bones of the Skate; a few of the Crab family;
fragments of Pottery, and small bits of charred wood and ashes. The
ashes are just like those left from a wood or peat fire. Small stones,
also, were got, partially blackened, as if they had been used for
cooking purposes. One very common ingredient among the fish was that
part of the head known as the “lug been,”—a bone usually given to the
children of the family to pick.
[Sidenote: _BOYNDIE KITCHEN-MIDDEN._]
“A remarkable fact,” says Edward, in his account of the Boyndie
kitchen-midden, “and one not mentioned in any account of a similar
place, is, that whilst some of the shells crumble to dust almost with
the least touch, others are still so hard that they would require the
fingers of a giant to pound them. The enamelling of some of the limpet
and mussel shells is still as beautiful as almost to persuade one that
the animal had been but newly taken out. On the other hand, some are
so far gone and so soft, as to feel like a piece of wet blotsheet. But
what appears to be the most remarkable peculiarity in these two very
opposite extremes is, that the shells thus spoken of may be found in
the same handful and from the same spot. Another very striking feature
is, that in handling the old ‘muck,’ one’s fingers soon get nearly as
black as ink. Here also, as in all the other shell-accumulations, the
larger bones are broken—not cut, but broken up longitudinally, or what
might rather be called splintered. This has been done, it is thought,
to get at the fat or marrow, of which these early people seem to have
been very fond. They broke the bone just as we break up with some heavy
instrument the large toes of a lobster or parten in order to reach the
food.”
[Sidenote: _HUMAN BONES._]
M. Engelhardt, in describing the Kiökkenmöddings of Denmark, says that
no human bones have been found among the shell-heaps. Sir John Lubbock
has also said that “the absence of human remains satisfactorily proves
that the primitive population of the North were free from the practice
of cannibalism.” Recent investigations have, however, cast some doubts
upon this statement. For instance, Mr. Laing, M.P., read a paper
before the Ethnological Society on the 14th December 1864, in which
he described the results of his investigations of the kitchen-middens
at Keiss in Caithness, about eight miles north of Wick. Large masses
of periwinkle and limpet shells, mixed with bones, flint splinters,
and bone instruments of the rudest sort, were found. Among the bones,
part of the jaw of a child was discovered, which had been broken as
if to get at the marrow; and affording ground for presumption that
cannibalism was prevalent, or, at least, was occasionally resorted to
among the race to which the remains refer.
[Sidenote: _THE STONE PERIOD._]
No human bones were found in the shell-heaps of either Boyndie or
Brigzes; so that Mr. Laing’s remarks may, after all, prove to be a
mere conjecture. “One thing,” says Edward, “must be observed—that
no implements have as yet been found mixed up with our shells; but
whether this would indicate an earlier or a later date, it would be
premature even to hint. Flint flakes, a portion of a flint knife, and
a stone-axe or hatchet, have been found near some of the Morayshire
mounds, but not in them. They are, however, considered to belong to the
same period. In the same way, the flint flakes, arrow-heads, elfshots,
found in the lower part of Banffshire, as also the two curious
rough-looking bits of stones formed like knives, lately dug up near
Banff, and now placed in the Banff Museum, doubtless belong to the same
bygone days. Of this, however, we have a proof beyond doubt, that those
who had for a time sojourned at Boyndie had, like the men of Denmark,
gone out to sea fishing. This we learn from the fact that spines of
large rays or skate, bones of other big fish, such as the cod, ling,
and haddocks, bits of old sponge-eaten shells, as the scallop (Pecten
maximus and opercularis), the cow shell (Cyprina Islandica), and the
roaring buckie (Fusus antiquus), are found in our shell-mound. Now
these cannot be got except in pretty deep water; and although no traces
of any of their vessels have as yet been met with near the mound, still
one, a _canoe_—very similar to the ancient Danish canoe—was dug up some
years ago from a piece of marshy ground betwixt Portsoy and Cullen.
“During a recent excavation of the mound in the presence of a clerical
friend, we came upon the two following species of shells not previously
noticed—the flat-topped periwinkle (Littorina littoralis) and the
grey pyramid shell (Trochus cinerarius). These shells are both very
common amongst the rocks at the present day. As the list indicates,
the periwinkle was the most frequent shell in the mound; but we went
deeper down, and the farther we went into the bank the limpet was most
predominant, and in fact was almost the exclusive shell.
[Sidenote: _ANTIQUITY OF SHELL-MOUNDS._]
“Taking all these circumstances into account, and weighing the matter
carefully over, we cannot come to any other conclusion than that the
Kitchen-middens must be of a very remote age. We know nothing of the
people who formed these mounds of shells and bones. Tradition and
history are altogether silent. Archæology seems powerless to help us,
and ethnology’s vision fails to penetrate the depths of obscurity. It
would appear to be one of those mysteries of the past which baffles
even the wisest.”
[Sidenote: _AN OLD BONE._]
Edward collected further samples of articles taken from kitchen-middens
for the Museum, including a series of shells—the oyster, the cockle,
the periwinkle, and the brown buckie or whelk—gathered from the
shell-heaps on the farm of Brigzes, near Elgin. He had also several
other fragments of antiquity collected in the Museum, one of the most
interesting of which was the joint-bone of some extinct animal. The
story connected with this bone is rather curious.
Before Edward had any official connection with the museum, he visited
it one day in company with his master; and there he first saw this
particular bone. He was struck by its size, thickness, and peculiar
shape. The idea flashed across his mind that he had seen something like
it in a picture; but he could not remember where. Seeing his intent
glance, the curator asked him if he knew anything about it? “Nothing,”
said he, “except that it appears to me to be a semi-fossilised bone
of some of the pre-Adamite monsters that are dug up now and then; but
what it is I cannot tell.” “It looks to me,” said the curator, “to be
nothing more than the root of a tree: in fact I am sure it is. If it
were a bone, as you say, surely some of the gentlemen composing the
Scientific Society would know.” “Give it time,” replied Edward, “and
some one will yet be able to tell us all about it.” “Time indeed!” said
the curator, “we have had it lying here far too long. I have often
thought of throwing it into the fire, and I will do so when I have next
the opportunity. It would never have been here but for that old fool
(naming a previous curator), whose only aim seems to have been to get
the place filled up with useless trash.”
In the meantime the previous history of the bone may be given. Some
sixty years before, when a mill-dam was being enlarged at Inverichny,
in the parish of Alvah, near Banff, one of the workmen came upon a
dark-looking object embedded in the bank amongst clay and shingle,
about six feet from the surface. After being disengaged, it was found
that the object was very like a large hour-glass, though not tapering
so much towards the middle. There were differences of opinion amongst
the workmen about the nature of the thing. One said it was a “been,”
another said it was “an auld fir knot.” One man tried to break it
into pieces with a spade, but he failed. The hard bone turned up the
edge of the spade. It was handed about, to ascertain if anybody could
make anything of it. At last it got into the hands of Captain Reid of
Inverichny. He showed it to the three most important persons in his
neighbourhood—the minister, the doctor, and the dominie.
[Sidenote: _CONJECTURES ABOUT THE BONE._]
The minister, though he could say nothing about the bone, knew that
there were great leviathans in the waters, for he had read about them
in the Scriptures; but he had never seen any notice of such things
being found in clay banks. The doctor, after looking at it, and turning
it round and round, said that if it was a bone, at least it did not
belong to the human structure. The dominie, like his other learned
friends, could throw no greater light upon the subject. He did not
think it was a bone at all, but only a monstrous piece of petrified
bamboo! Then the men of science of the Banff Institution were applied
to, but they could make no more of the object than the minister, the
doctor, and the dominie. Finally Captain Reid presented it to the
museum of the Banff Scientific Society; and there it remained until
Edward first saw it.
[Sidenote: _THE OLD BONE CONDEMNED._]
It would appear, however, that the curator had become tired of the
bone, or whatever else it was, and wished to get rid of it. He removed
it from the case in which it was deposited, and threw it among the
rubbish of the museum. When Edward was appointed sub-curator of the
museum, about nine years afterwards, his first natural impulse was to
go to the table where the bone had been deposited, but lo! it had been
removed. He searched the whole place, but no bone was to be found. He
feared lest the curator had carried out his intention, and burnt it.
Next morning, Edward received orders to destroy a lot of useless
stuff which lay on the floor, consisting of broken-down astronomical
and philosophical instruments, moth-eaten beasts, birds, and fishes,
together with other wrecked specimens of the long-neglected museum.
Edward went to work, and whilst groping amongst the rubbish at the
bottom of the heap, he came upon a round dark object. He brought it up,
and lo! it was the “auld been”—in other words, the old bone! It had not
been burnt! He cleaned it and put it in the old place.
When the curator next made his appearance to ascertain how far the
burning had gone, he gave a glance at the case where the bone had
been replaced. He stood aghast. “You have put this thing on the table
again!” he shouted. “Yes,” replied Edward. “Do you know,” rejoined the
curator, “that by so doing you are insulting myself, and the gentlemen
of the Society, who requested all objectionable matter to be removed
from the collection?” “I am very sorry for that,” said Edward. “Then
remove it at once, and burn it with the rest.” Edward removed it
accordingly, but he did not burn it. He took it home, and kept it there
until he was able to replace it in the museum.
[Illustration: THE “AULD BEEN.”]
[Sidenote: _THE “AULD BEEN.”_]
When the curator next entered the apartment, he glanced at the place
where the bone had been, and seeing that it had been removed, he said
nothing further about it. Shortly after, Edward was himself appointed
curator, and having the control of the collection in his own hands, he
restored the bone to its former place. He was still most anxious to
know of what animal the bone had constituted a part. He never failed to
direct the attention of visitors to the bone, and to inquire of them
whether they could give him any information about it. Thus time rolled
on, and despite of all his endeavours, the bone still remained unknown
and unnamed.
[Sidenote: _SIR RODERICK MURCHISON._]
At last Sir Roderick Murchison and Professor Ramsay honoured the museum
with a visit, in September 1859. Edward was sure that Sir Roderick
would be able to tell him all that he wanted to know respecting the
bone. It was the first thing that he put into Sir Roderick’s hands.
“Can you tell me what that is, sir?” He took it up, turned it round and
round, and over and over, and remarked, “That is a most extraordinary
bone;” and then he asked when and where it had been found. Edward
told him all the facts he knew respecting it, and added: “But can you
tell me to what animal it belonged?” “No, I cannot tell,” replied Sir
Roderick. Neither did Professor Ramsay know anything about the bone.
“You see,” said Sir Roderick, “this does not lie in my way. This is not
exactly a geological specimen. I am more a _stone_ man than a _bone_
man. Besides, it is often a difficult matter to distinguish small
fragments or single bones of a skeleton, especially such a remarkable
one as this, and to determine with certainty to what creature it
belonged. But,” he added, “if you have any stones in your collection
unnamed, or any particular rock in your neighbourhood that you can show
us, and which you and the stone men of the district are in any doubt
about, my colleague and I will be most happy to sort them out for you.
As regards the bone, I’ll tell you what to do. Send the bone to London,
to Professor Owen. He’s your man. He’s made up of bones. He’ll soon
tell you all about it. And more, you can give him my compliments, say
you saw me, and that I told you to send it.”
Edward did not, however, send the bone to London. He knew from
experience, that such things, when sent so far away, rarely came back.
That had been the case with many of his Crustacea. He therefore kept
the bone at home, and continued his inquiries of the _savans_ who from
time to time visited the museum; but he never succeeded in obtaining
any favourable answer to his questionings.
[Sidenote: _PLESIOSAURUS DOLICHODEIRAS._]
Years sped on, and still the bone remained unknown. At last, when
Edward was rummaging over some old books, he came upon the second
volume of the _Penny Magazine_. Whilst turning over the pages by
chance, he saw a picture of old bones which had much puzzled his brains
some thirty years before. And now he remembered that it was the picture
of the bones here drawn, that had first given him the idea that this
bone in the museum was the remnant of some extinct animal. And here
was the creature itself from which the bone had been taken. It was the
_Plesiosaurus dolichodeiras_; the bone in the museum being one of the
femurs of the fore-paddle of that long extinct monster.
[Sidenote: _THE BANFF MUSEUM._]
To make assurance doubly sure, Edward took a photograph of the bone,
and sent it to a scientific correspondent in London; when he had the
pleasure of being informed there was no doubt whatever that the bone
was one of the femurs of the fore-paddle of the Plesiosaurus. Here,
then, was a discovery well worth all the care, the trouble, and the
anxiety which the bone had occasioned. It may also be mentioned that,
so far as is known, no other fragment of the Plesiosaurus has yet been
found in Scotland. They have been met with in England in the secondary
strata, and on the Continent, principally in the Oolite and Lias. The
bone in question is now one of the most cherished relics of the Banff
Museum.
[Illustration: BANFF MUSEUM.]
FOOTNOTES:
[54] This must have been about the beginning of 1868. The last letter
which Edward received from Mr. Spence Bate was dated the 3d March 1868.
In that letter Mr. Bate referred to some specimens of the Eisclados
and Themisto which Edward had sent him about three months before. The
correspondence then ceased.
[55] Of the mischievous results of treating disease by electricity
without medical knowledge, a remarkable instance is to be found in the
Life of the Rev. F. W. Robertson, Brighton.
[56] When the Museum was handed over to the Corporation, Edward’s
salary was, in May 1866, increased to £13 : 13s. Seven months later
Edward resigned the situation.
[57] Dr. Beddoes, in his _Stature and Bulk of Man in the British
Isles_, says, “The Black-haired Shetlanders are of low stature,
with features approaching the Finnish type, and of a melancholic
temperament” (p. 13). The island of Lewis also, in the Hebrides,
indicates an aboriginal substratum of population of Finnish type and
short stature.