AS DIRECTOR OF THE NATURAL HISTORY MUSEUM
[1884-1898]
On the resignation in 1884 by Sir Richard Owen of the post of
Superintendent of the Natural History Departments of the British Museum,
which four years previously had been transferred to the magnificent new
building in the Cromwell Road, officially known as the British Museum
(Natural History), but more commonly designated the Natural History
Museum, it was felt by all competent to form an adequate opinion on the
subject that Professor Flower was the one man specially and peculiarly
fitted for the post. And accordingly, in the course of the year in
question, he was duly appointed to that most important and influential
position, which may be regarded as conferring upon its occupant the
status of the leading official zoologist in the British Empire. It was in
this position that Flower became most widely known to the general public;
and here that he received the honours, firstly of C.B., and later on
K.C.B., conferred upon him by his Sovereign.
At the date when Sir William (then Professor) assumed the reins of
office, the position of Director of the Natural History Museum was
of a somewhat anomalous and peculiar nature. At that time (as now)
the administration of the museum was divided into four sections, or
departments, namely Zoology, Geology (or rather Palæontology), Botany
and Mineralogy, each of which was presided over by a “Keeper,” who had
practically unlimited control, both as regards finance and general
arrangement, of his own section. Consequently, as regards these four
departments, the Director had very little control over the museum he was
nominally supposed to govern; and his functions were to a great extent
limited to regulating the “foreign policy” of the institution under his
charge, that is to say, its relations to the parent establishment at
Bloomsbury, to the Treasury, and to the world at large. In fact, as Sir
William once remarked to the present writer, the Director at that time
had to find a sphere of work for himself.
Fortunately, such a sphere of work lay ready to hand, and Flower
immediately entered upon it with characteristic energy and enthusiasm.
So long ago as the year 1859, Sir Richard Owen, in one of his reports
to the Trustees of the Museum, recommended that the new building, in
addition to affording ample space for the general series of natural
specimens exhibited to the public, should likewise include a hall, or
other suitable apartment, for the display of a series of specimens
calculated to convey an elementary idea of the general principles of
systematic natural history and biological classification to the large
proportion of the ordinary public visitor not conversant with that
subject. In other words, the feature of the proposed section would be the
exhibition of a series of specimens selected to show the more typical
characters of the principal groups of organised (and, it was at the
time added, crystallised) forms. This, it was urged, would constitute
an epitome of natural history, and would convey to the eye, in the
easiest and most ready manner, an elementary knowledge of the sciences in
question.
In every modification which the plans of the new building underwent,
a hall for the purpose indicated in the above passages formed, as Sir
William has himself remarked, a prominent feature; being in the later
stages of the development of the building called, for want of a better
name, the “Index Museum.”
The increasing infirmities of age, coupled with the short time during
which he presided over the Natural History collections in their new home,
combined, however, to prevent Owen from making any real progress with
the so-called Index Museum; and although he furnished the idea of the
scheme and planned the general installation of the hall, the selection
and installation of its contents were left to his successor. And, with
the vast experience gained by Sir William during his tenure of office in
the Royal College of Surgeons, they could not possibly have been left to
abler hands.
Here it is necessary to explain that, whether by design or by accident,
history sayeth not, the Index Museum and the Central Hall generally were
not included in any one of the four great administrative departments
of the Museum, so that they consequently came under the immediate and
exclusive control of the Director himself.
Nor was Flower long in setting to work at the task which thus lay
awaiting his master-hand; and the Index Museum, as fast as the exigencies
of finance and the difficulties of procuring suitable specimens
permitted, gradually assumed the shape and character familiar to all
visitors of the building, not that in these respects it exactly followed
the lines suggested by Owen. In place of being, as was originally
proposed, a sort of epitome or index of the main collections in the
galleries, it developed rather into something “more like the general
introduction preceding the systematic portion of treatises on any branch
of natural history.”
Whether, in view of this departure from the original conception, Sir
William, if starting _de novo_, would have grouped all these separate
collections in a single apartment, or whether he would have split them
up and placed them at the commencement of the various series in the
exhibition galleries to which they respectively pertain, may be a moot
point. But, at anyrate, no detriment to his work would ensue if such a
splitting-up should be thought desirable in the future. And considerable
advantages would undoubtedly result if the series displaying the general
morphology and anatomy of the mammals were placed at the entrance of the
mammalian gallery, and so on with the other series at present exhibited
in the Index Museum.
Be this as it may, the series of specimens and preparations arranged
in the Index Museum under the immediate superintendence of Flower is
probably unrivalled in its way, and displays in a marked manner that
attention to detail and that eye to artistic effect which were among his
special attributes. In the “bay” devoted to mammals, special attention
was given to the display of specimens illustrating the various forms
assumed by the teeth in the different orders and families, and their
mode of succession and replacement;—subjects in which Flower always
displayed special interest, and in regard to which he made some important
discoveries. Here, too, were exhibited during the latter half of his
tenure of office the skeletons and half-models of a man and a horse,
placed in juxtaposition, in order to display the special adaptations
and modifications for, on the one hand, the upright posture and great
brain-capacity, and, on the other, for the high degree of speed and
endurance essential to an otherwise defenceless quadruped living, in a
wild state, on open plains. In this exhibit, which forms the frontispiece
to his well-known and deservedly popular little work on _The Horse_,
Sir William always took an especial pride; and it was one of the first
objects to which he directed the attention of the many illustrious and
distinguished visitors who sought his guidance in viewing the collections
under his charge. Another specimen in the same “bay” of which he was
especially proud is the skeleton of a young chimpanzee, dissected by Dr.
Tyson, and described by that anatomist in a work published in 1699, under
the title of the _Anatomie of a Pigmie_, being the earliest scientific
description of any man-like ape.
As regards the vertebrate “bays,” Sir William himself (always of course
with the aid of trained assistants) took an active part in the selection
and arrangement of the specimens. In the case of the invertebrate groups,
on the other hand, the task was left more to his subordinates; while
as regards the botanical section such relegation was, of necessity,
practically complete. Although it has been previously referred to
elsewhere, it may be mentioned that it was during the work on the Index
Museum the discovery of the absence in certain groups of birds of the
fifth cubital quill-feather was made; a fact now familiar to naturalists
under the title of diastaxy, or aquintocubitalism.
A special feature of the vertebrate section of the Index Museum was the
attention devoted to the mounting of the skins of the mammals exhibited.
In an address delivered to the British Association in 1889, Flower
referred to “the sadly neglected art of taxidermy, which continues
to fill the cases of most of our museums with wretched and repulsive
caricatures of mammals and birds, out of all natural proportions,
shrunken here and bloated there, and in attitudes absolutely impossible
for the creature to have assumed while alive.” And he was determined that
the specimens of this nature in the section of the museum under his own
immediate superintendence should be the best of their kind, and should
serve as models for the renovation of these in the zoological galleries
which he had determined to undertake so soon as the opportunity was
afforded.
Neither was he less particular in regard to labels describing the
exhibits. In the address already referred to, he had written that
“above all, the purpose for which each specimen is exhibited, and the
main lesson to be derived from it, must be distinctly indicated by the
labels affixed, both as headings of the various divisions of the series
and to the individual specimens. A well-arranged educational museum
has been defined as a collection of instructive labels, illustrated by
well-selected specimens.” Most, if not all, of the descriptive labels
in the vertebrate series of the Index Museum were written by the hand
of the Director himself, while all came under his personal supervision
before being placed in the museum. Labels of a descriptive nature had
hitherto been mainly, if not entirely, conspicuous by their absence on
the zoological side of the museum; and for some time the Index series
alone afforded an example of the nature of the Director’s views on
this all-important subject. Nor was this all; for in addition to these
descriptive labels, other and larger labels were affixed in the cases,
bearing the names of the various “classes,” “orders,” and “families,”
to which the specimens respectively pertained; the limits of the space
occupied by each group being indicated by black laths, varying in width
according to the grade of the group they demarcated. By this means
systematic divisions were clearly indicated; and on no consideration
would Flower permit of any single specimen being placed elsewhere than in
its proper systematic position.
Another innovation—so far at anyrate as the zoological side of the museum
was concerned—was the placing of small maps alongside each specimen
or each group, to illustrate, by means of colour, the geographical
distribution of the species or group.
As regards the function of the Index Museum, it may be admitted that
instead of, as originally intended, serving as an elementary guide
in natural history to the uninstructed public, this exhibit is more
generally used by serious zoological students, of whom numbers may from
time to time be seen, book in hand, and sometimes under the guidance
of a teacher, intently poring over the contents of the cases. Such a
use—although not perhaps the prime object of a national museum—is,
however, at least as important as catering to the requirements of the
ordinary visitor.
The display in systematic and serial order of the external characters
and internal anatomy of the leading types of living and extinct animals
and plants formed, however, only a part of Flower’s scheme of exhibits
for the central hall of the museum. Such specimens occupied only the
“bays” or alcoves on the west and east sides, and there remained the
large central floor space for exhibits of other descriptions. Advantage
was taken of this to display examples of the phenomenon of seasonal
colour-change in birds, accompanied in some instances, as in the ruff,
by the development of special plumes round the neck, or elsewhere; the
two species selected for illustration being the aforesaid ruff and the
wild duck or mallard; the latter bird, together with many other members
of its tribe, being remarkable on account of the assumption by the
males at certain seasons of the year of an “eclipse” plumage, almost
indistinguishable from that distinctive at all times of the year of the
female. Other cases were devoted to showing some of the more remarkable
kinds of variation produced from a single wild stock by domestication
and artificial selection; the species exhibited for this purpose being
several types of the common fowl, the various kinds of pigeons, and the
more remarkable strains of the canary. The introduction of domesticated
breeds, whose peculiarities are entirely, in the outset at anyrate, the
result of man’s interference with the ordinary course of Nature, is a
notable feature of this portion of the work of Flower, and indicates
his sense of the important bearing of such artificial variations on
the doctrine of the evolution of organic nature. “Mimicry” by animals
of one group of those of another also formed an important part of this
introductory series of exhibit; as did likewise the colour-adaptation
of animals to their inorganic surroundings. This latter phenomenon
is specially illustrated by a series of animals (mammals, birds and
reptiles) from the Libyan desert, which are set up amid rocks and sand
from the same locality so as to imitate as nearly as possible the natural
conditions. And this case, together with one of these to be noticed
immediately, affords an excellent example of Sir William’s painstaking
efforts to make the exhibits in the museum as realistic as possible,
and also his influence and persuasive power in inducing friends or
correspondents to aid his endeavours. For in both these instances the
animals and their inanimate surroundings were collected on the spot by
generous and enthusiastic donors.
The second instance of the adaptation of animals to their surroundings is
afforded by the two cases displaying respectively a summer and a winter
scene in Norway, with the birds and mammals in the one in their brown
dress, and in the other in their snow-white livery. Since Sir William’s
death an Arctic fox, in the appropriate dress, had been added to each
case, with a decided improvement to the general effect.
Another exhibit of the above nature is devoted to the phenomenon of
albinism and melanism among animals; the two cases in which the specimens
are shown containing an extraordinary number of species, varying in
size from leopards to mice, in which these remarkable colour-phases
are respectively displayed. The admission of such departures from
the ordinary type into the museum justifies, it may be mentioned, the
introduction of abnormalities of a more startling nature. Finally, as
illustration of a transition from one species towards another, Sir
William caused to be set up a series of typical specimens of the common
and the hooded crow, together with offspring produced by the union of
the two, which are to a great extent intermediate between the parent
forms. In the same cases is a series of goldfinches, showing a complete
gradation between birds of different coloration, and commonly regarded as
belonging to distinct species.
All the above instances serve to demonstrate, however inadequately,
Flower’s broad conception of the field to be covered by a national and
educational museum, altogether apart from the exhibition of specimens
illustrative of systematic natural history. It is no secret that Sir
William wished to add a series illustrative of the present geographical
distribution of animals on the surface of the globe; but, for lack of
space, all that could be attempted in this direction was the exhibition
of the British fauna, together with a map displaying the division of the
world into zoological regions, according to the scheme of Messrs. Sclater
and Wallace.
For several years, apart from administrative duties, Flower devoted
practically the whole of his available time to the elaboration of the
Index Museum and the other exhibits in the Central Hall, although he
found opportunity to draw up a list of the specimens of Cetacea (whales
and dolphins) in the collection of the Museum, which was published by
order of the Trustees in 1885. Probably, indeed, this list was compiled
before active work on the Index Museum had commenced. It is a very
useful work to the student of the group, although limited to species
represented in the Museum collection.
In the autumn of the year 1895 there occurred, however, an event, which
may be said to have revolutionised Flower’s position in the Museum, and
gave him that immediate personal control over the zoological collections
which was essential to the full development and perfection of his scheme
of museum reform and expansion. At that date Dr. Albert Günther retired
from the position of Keeper of the Zoological Department; and it was then
resolved by the Trustees of the Museum that this post should be held by
Sir William (who, by the way, had been made C.B. in 1887 and K.C.B. in
1892), in conjunction with the office of Director.
This arrangement was continued throughout the remainder of Sir William’s
term of office, and was likewise renewed when he was succeeded by
Professor E. Ray Lankester, the present holder of the combined posts.
This, then, gave Flower, as already stated, the opportunity for which
he had so long been waiting; and in January 1896 he undertook the
supervision of the reorganisation and rearrangement of the mammal gallery.
Here a digression of some length must be made, in order to make the
reader acquainted in a certain degree with the conditions then prevalent
in the museum in connection with the galleries open to the public. In the
first place, as already indicated, while the skins and bones of recent
animals were contained and exhibited in the Zoological Department, the
remains of their extinct relatives, and even the fossilised bones and
teeth of the living species, were relegated to the Geological Department,
which occupies the ground floor of the opposite side of the building. To
make matters worse, the skeletons of living mammals were exhibited on
the second floor of the zoological side of the building (instead of, as
they should have been, on the ground floor), and thus as far away as they
could possibly be from those of their extinct predecessors.
Such an unnatural and illogical sundering of kindred objects was
altogether repugnant to the mind of Flower, who in his address to the
British Association in 1889, to which allusion has been already made,
expressed himself as follows:—
“For the perpetuation of the unfortunate separation of palæontology
from biology, which is so clearly a survival of an ancient condition
of scientific culture, and for the maintenance in its integrity of the
heterogeneous compound of sciences which we now call ‘geology,’ the
faulty organisation of our museums is in a great measure responsible.
The more their rearrangement can be made to overstep and break down
the abrupt line of demarcation which is still almost universally drawn
between beings which live now and those which have lived in past times,
so deeply rooted in the popular mind, and so hard to eradicate even from
that of the scientific student, the better it will be for the progress of
sound biological knowledge.”
The force of circumstances, coupled with the expense which would have
been involved, was, however, too much for even a man with Flower’s
force of character and determination, and the attempt to merge the
palæontological with the zoological collections was consequently
perforce abandoned.[2] As a compromise a certain number of fossil
specimens, or casts of the same, were to be introduced among the recent
mammals; while, conversely, a few skeletons of the latter were to take
their place among the remains of their extinct forerunners.
In another mooted change, Sir William (as it lay entirely in the
Department under his own special control) was, however, more successful.
Previously it had been the practice in the museum to separate the
skeletons and skulls and horns of mammals from the mounted skins, placing
the former in a gallery by themselves, known as the Osteological Gallery.
As a result of this, if a visitor wanted to ascertain the peculiarities
of the skeleton of any mammal of which the skin was exhibited, he had
to mount to the gallery above, and on his arrival there, very probably
forgot the essential features of the skin. One of the first resolves in
connection with the rearrangement was to do away with the Osteological
Gallery altogether, and to place a certain proportion of the skeletons
and skulls in juxtaposition with, or near by, the stuffed skins.
Another feature of the old method of exhibition in vogue in the museum
was the crowding together of a vast number of specimens, good, bad, and
indifferent (mostly either the second or third), many of which were
duplicates, in such a manner that the great majority could scarcely be
seen at all, while the effect of those that were more or less visible
was marred and obscured by the adjacent specimens. To add to this
unsatisfactory state of affairs was the bad condition—due either to
age, to bad taxidermy, or both combined—of the bulk of the specimens.
Moreover, by some inconceivable Vandalism, dating apparently from a
very remote epoch in the museum’s history, every specimen was mounted
on a stand of polished sycamore, the effect of which was to mar even a
first-class specimen of taxidermy. When to the above is added the fact
that, beyond the scientific and in most cases also the popular name of
the species, nothing in the way of indicating the serial position of
the various groups was attempted, while all that was done in the way of
descriptive labels was the suspension here and there of frames containing
extracts from the “Guide” to the gallery, it may be imagined that the
state of the collection was very far indeed behind the Director’s idea of
what it should be. Moreover, although in the case of the smaller animals
a systematic arrangement was followed, the cases containing the larger
species were disposed without any reference to the systematic position of
the latter.
In regard to such matters the Director had, in the address quoted,
already expressed his own views in no uncertain tone, as is evident from
the following passage relating to the arrangement of specimens in the
public galleries:—
“In the first place,” he writes, “their numbers must be strictly limited,
according to the nature of the subject illustrated and the space
available. None must be placed too high or too low for ready examination.
There must be no crowding of specimens one behind another, every one
being perfectly and distinctly seen, and with a clear space around it....
Every specimen exhibited should be good of its kind, and all available
skill and care should be spent upon its preservation and rendering
it capable of teaching the lesson it is intended to convey.... Every
specimen exhibited should have its definite purpose, and no absolute
duplicate should on any account be permitted.”
The purport of these golden words, which at the time they were written
indicated an entirely new departure in museum arrangement and display,
was, so far as possible, followed in the rearrangement of the mammal
galleries. In the first place, the upper portions of the cases, which
were far too high above the ground to permit of the proper exhibition
of small specimens, were, except in those containing large mammals,
closed up and employed for displaying the labels relating to the larger
groups and the maps illustrating their geographical distribution. Then,
again, the shelves, in place of being arranged one above another like
those in a wardrobe, were reduced in number, and in most instances in
width, so as to be suited to the best possible display of the specimens
they were intended to carry. Duplicate specimens of all kinds, as well
as representatives of species having but little general interest, were
relentlessly weeded out and consigned to the store series; while efforts
were made to procure new examples, mounted in the best possible manner,
of all species—and these were by far the great majority—represented by
badly-mounted, or old and faded specimens. This part of the business was
found, however, to be a matter which must necessarily occupy much time,
as it is impossible to procure examples of rare or large species, in a
condition fit for stuffing, at the precise moment when they are required;
and there is also the question of expense, which becomes very heavy
indeed when renovating and replacing a collection of the proportions
of that of the National Museum. This portion of the work has therefore
been going on uninterruptedly ever since the first start was made, and
is indeed being continued at the present time; for it has been found
by experience that a collection of this nature, owing to the terribly
bleaching effects of sunlight, requires constant renovation, and that
exhibited museum specimens have only a definite and limited period,
varying to a considerable extent according to the colour and nature
of the hair in individual species, during which they are fitted to be
publicly shown. Instead of a museum, when once arranged, being “a joy
for ever,” it requires constant attention and renovation, so that even,
to keep them in proper order, the mammal galleries alone in the Natural
History Museum demand a large proportion of the time of one of the
officials.
Not the least important of the changes made in the mammalian galleries
under the supervision of Sir William Flower was the alteration of the
colour of the stands on which the specimens were mounted. These, as
already said, were of polished sycamore, the bright reflection from
which was exceedingly unbecoming to the specimens, to say nothing of
the obvious lack of æsthetic fitness in mounting stuffed mammals upon a
polished surface of this nature. Before anything in the way of a change
was attempted, Sir William sought the advice of his friend, the late
Lord Leighton, after consultation with whom, it was finally decided
that in future the stands should be of a good “cigar-colour.” This was
effected, in the first instance, by scraping and staining the original
sycamore stands—a work of great labour and expense; but all new ones were
subsequently made of wood more easy to work, walnut being employed in the
case of the smaller sizes. Even this improvement, great as it undoubtedly
was, did not, however, by any means represent the full extent of the
changes in this direction. After a short experience of the aforesaid
“cigar-coloured” stands, it was found that the general effect was much
improved by gouging out the upper surface of these, with the exception of
a narrow rim round the margin, to a depth of a quarter or half an inch,
and covering it with a thin layer of sand or earth, upon which leaves,
pebbles, etc., might be disposed if required. Instead of “skating on
sycamore tables,” the animals were by this means shown standing on a very
good imitation of a natural land surface.
Nor was this all. At an early period during the rearrangement of the
mammal galleries, Sir William suggested that many of the larger species
might be mounted upon imitation ground-work covering the entire floor
of the cases in which they were exhibited. This idea was forthwith put
into execution in several cases, notably in these containing the lions,
the tigers, and the group of fur-seals from the Pribiloff Islands,
presented by Sir George Baden-Powell. Supposed difficulties with regard
to the cleaning of the glass of the cases prevented this plan from being
carried out to any greater extent during Sir William’s life-time. But
these presumed difficulties were subsequently overcome, and of late years
a considerable number of the cases containing the larger species of
mammals have been treated in this manner with excellent effect and a vast
increase to the general attractiveness of the museum. In some instances a
merely conventional ground-work has been introduced, but in others a more
realistic effect has been attempted. A notable example of this is the
reindeer-case, in which the artificial ground-work is covered with rocks,
lichen, moss, and birch-stems obtained from the reindeer pastures of
Norway. Similarly, the Arctic musk-oxen have been placed on an imitation
snow-slope. Although, as already said, much of this work has been
carried out since his death, the idea originated entirely with Flower. A
similar grouping of animals on artificial ground-work—when possible in
imitation of the natural surroundings—has been instituted in some of the
American museums, but whether following Flower’s lead, or as an original
inspiration, I am unable to say.
At the time when Sir William took over the office of Keeper of the
Zoological Department (in addition to the Directorship), the scheme then
in vogue at the museum scarcely assigned to man his real zoological
position—at the head of the order Primates in the mammalian class. It is
true that in the osteological gallery the genus Homo was represented by
a couple of skeletons and a series of skulls. But in the gallery devoted
to stuffed specimens man, as an integral portion of the exhibited series,
was conspicuous by his absence. This by no means suited the views of
the Director, who in an obituary notice of Owen quoted with approval
a statement of the great anatomist to the effect that no collection of
zoology could in any way be regarded as complete without a large amount
of space being devoted to the display of the physical characteristics
of the various races of the human species. “The series of zoology would
lack its most important feature were the illustrations of the physical
characters of the human race omitted.” Such a series, thought Owen in
1862, would require a gallery of something like 150 feet in length, by
50 feet in width, for its proper display. Stuffed specimens being, of
course, out of the question, the series was to include “casts of the
entire body, coloured after life, of characteristic parts, as the head
and face, skeletons of every variety arranged side by side for facility
of comparison, the hair preserved in spirit, showing its characteristic
sign and distinctive structures, etc.” Had photography been in anything
like its present advanced position in 1862, no doubt its aid would have
been claimed in illustrating the various racial types of the human
species.
A gallery of anything like the dimensions required by Owen was quite out
of the question when Flower planned the addition of an anthropological
section to the mammalian series, but one-half of the portion of the upper
mammal gallery now open to the public was reserved for this purpose,
so that man took his proper place in the zoological series immediately
after the gorilla, chimpanzee, and the other man-like apes, which, in
their turn, were preceded by the lower types of monkey. In the main, the
specimens exhibited in this series follow on the lines suggested by Owen,
including coloured casts of the upper part of the body, or the head and
neck alone, specimens of the hair, skulls, skeletons, etc.
In addition to these is a series of photographs of heads enlarged to
natural size, and including, whenever possible, a full face and a profile
view of each individual represented. Flower took great interest in these
photographs (as in the anthropological series generally), and made
several experiments before finally deciding as to the scale to which
they were to be enlarged. As facilities for photographing in the museum
itself were at the time very limited, Flower enlisted the assistance
of Dr. H. O. Forbes, Director of the Liverpool Museums, who entered
enthusiastically into the project, and under whose superintendence the
great majority of the reproductions from photographs now exhibited was
produced; the arrangement being that Liverpool should have a copy of
every photograph forwarded for reproduction.
The races of mankind were arranged in the gallery according to Flower’s
own scheme, fuller reference to which is made elsewhere in the present
volume. Flower himself did not survive long enough to see the arrangement
he had plotted out fully installed. Of late years, although some progress
has been made in this direction, the series of coloured casts of the
various human races has not increased so rapidly as Flower had hoped they
would; but, nevertheless, a fairly representative series had been brought
together, and there is, at present, ample space for additions when
opportunities of acquiring new specimens occur. It should be added that
Flower inaugurated the plan of making a collection of photographs of the
various human races to be kept in the study series.
It must not, however, be supposed that Flower, during his too brief
tenure of the office of Keeper of the Zoological Department, by any means
confined his attention to the mammalian galleries. On the contrary, he
had with his own hands rearranged two of the cases in the bird gallery,
namely, those containing the humming-birds and the woodpeckers; and
shortly before his resignation he was planning the rearrangement of all
the cases in this section; a work which since his death has been carried
out to completion on the same lines. In this connection it is, however,
only fair to state that in the obituary notice of Flower, published in
the “Year-Book” of the Royal Society for 1901, full justice has not been
done to his predecessors. The passage in question runs as follows:—
“Every effort was made to give the specimens natural postures and natural
surroundings. Thus, for example, the tree on which the woodpecker was at
work, was cut down, the foliage modelled in wax, and all the surroundings
carefully kept. Hovering birds were suspended by fine wire or thread.
Birds making nests in holes, such as the Manx shearwater, sand-martin and
kingfishers, either had the actual parts or a model of these beside them,
just as the nests of the gannets and guillemots on the Bass Rock were
shown with their natural environment.”
The obvious inference from this would be that the cases of birds mounted
in imitation of their natural environment, inclusive of the splendid
model of a portion of the Bass Rock, with its feathered inhabitants
placed in the “pavilion” at the end of the bird gallery, are due to the
initiation of Flower. This is far from being the case; and he himself
would have been the very last man to claim credit which was not his due.
As a matter of fact, the idea of mounting birds in this manner originated
with Dr. Bowdler Sharpe during the Keepership of Dr. Günther; the first
case installed on these lines being the one containing the common coot.
The series was continued during Dr. Günther’s term of office, and was
kept up by Flower after his succession to the Keepership. As regards
the Bass Rock model, this was also installed during Dr. Günther’s
Keepership, and, I believe, while Owen was Superintendent. What Flower
did initiate in the bird gallery was the rearrangement of the wall-cases
on much the same lines as the mammal galleries, including the rejection
of duplicates and uninteresting species, and the replacement of worn-out
and badly-mounted specimens, by new and artistically set-up examples,
and the addition of maps and descriptive labels. As a matter of fact,
the replacement and remounting of specimens have been carried out to a
much greater extent among the birds than has been found possible with the
mammals. A large number of the birds have been mounted by Cullingford
of Durham, whereas nearly all the mammals have been set up by three
London taxidermists, namely Rowland Ward, Ltd., Gerrard, and Pickhardt.
This plan of employing several firms of taxidermists, instead of giving
all the work to one, was much favoured by Flower, as it gave rise to a
healthy competition and rivalry, and thus produced better results; the
different firms being kept up to the mark by having their names affixed
to the more important examples of their respective work.
Before his last illness Flower had in contemplation a plan for treating
the reptile and fish galleries (in which the crowded exhibits displayed a
monotonous and dismal “khaki” hue) on the above lines, but this work was
left for his successor, by whom it is in course of being carried out with
characteristic energy and originality.
There is, however, another section of the zoological department of the
museum which owes its conception entirely to Sir William Flower, and
which he was fortunately spared to complete. This is the whale-room,
or whale-annexe, as it might be better called; for it is a temporary
structure of galvanised iron, lined with match-boarding built out from
the north-west angle of the building, and entered by a passage leading
out of the corridor alongside the bird gallery. At the time that Flower
took over the Keepership of the Zoological Department, with the exception
of a skeleton of the sperm-whale, placed in the middle of the Central
Hall, the specimens of Cetacea were housed in a portion of the basement,
never intended for a public gallery and very unsuited to that purpose.
The collection consisted mainly of skeletons and skulls, together with
samples of whalebone and teeth; for it had been found by experience that
it was a practical impossibility to mount the skins of the larger whales
for exhibition purposes. Indeed, there is great difficulty in doing this
even in the case of the dolphins, porpoises, and smaller whales, owing
to the fact that their skins are saturated with oil, which, even after
the most careful preparation, is almost sure, sooner or later, to exude
through the pores, and render the specimens unsightly, if not absolutely
unfit for exhibition.
Previously to Flower’s attempt to make an adequate and striking
exhibition of the bodily form of the larger whales, some of the smaller
members of the group, such as the killer-whale, had been modelled in
America in papier-maché; one such model of the species in question being
exhibited in the museum. Flower, however, conceived the idea of making
models in plaster of even the largest species of whales; but, in order to
save both material and space, resolved that these should be restricted
to one-half of the animal, and should be constructed upon the actual
skeleton, thereby ensuring, with the aid, when possible, of measurements
taken from carcases, practically absolute accuracy as regards size and
proportion. In due course, after great labour and care, such half-models
were built up on the skeletons of the sperm-whale, the southern
right-whale, and two species of fin-whale, or rorqual, while others
were made of some of the smaller kinds, such as the narwhal and the
beluga or white whale. Skeletons and skulls of other species, together
with complete models or stuffed skins, or models of the head alone, of
many of the porpoises and dolphins, and other specimens illustrating
the natural history of the Cetacea, were likewise placed in the new
annexe, which was opened to the public on Whit Monday 1897. Flower had
always been impressed with the great structural difference between the
toothed whales, as represented by the sperm-whale, grampuses, porpoises,
dolphins, etc., on the one hand, and the whalebone-whales, such as the
right-whales, humpbacks, and finners, on the other; and in order to
emphasise this essential distinction, he caused the skeletons and models
of the one group to be mounted with their heads in one direction, while
those of the second were turned the opposite way.
Although it was found impossible to obtain a skeleton of the Greenland
right-whale, Flower was able to persuade Captain Gray, a well-known
whaler, to carve a miniature model in wood, which gives an excellent
idea of the proportions, especially the huge size of the head and mouth,
of this interesting species. Sketches on the walls of the building
illustrate the habits and mode of capture of the sperm-whale, while
others serve to show the bodily form of species not yet represented by
models.
At the time it was opened this exhibit was absolutely unique; and, in the
belief of the writer, it remains so to the present day. Unfortunately,
the size and design of the building, which has a row of wooden posts down
the middle, are such as greatly to interfere with the proper effect of
the specimens exhibited; and it is much to be hoped that means will be
found to erect a larger gallery, of a more permanent nature, which will
not only allow the contents of the present structure to be adequately
seen, but will likewise leave space to permit of models of other species,
such as the humpback whale, to be added to the series.
Hitherto I have dwelt exclusively upon Sir William’s efforts to improve
the museum under his charge, from the point of view of the general
public, that is to say, as an institution for the exhibition of natural
history specimens. It must, however, be always remembered that this was
but one side of his task, and that he laboured hard during the whole
time of his official connection with the museum not only to increase
the study, or reserve, collections (which are those on which the real
scientific work of the museum is almost exclusively based), but to add to
the space available for their storage and for the workers by whom they
are studied.
Early in his career as Director he recognised the insufficiency of the
accommodation of this nature, although, as usual, he expressed his
opinion in extremely cautious and guarded language. For instance, in his
address as President of the Museum Associations in 1893, after referring
to the deficiencies of all, at that time, modern museums, which were
described as having been built during a period when opinion was still
divided as to the proper function of institutions of this nature, he
continued as follows:—
“In none, perhaps, is this more strikingly shown than in our own—built,
unfortunately, before any of the others, and so without the advantages of
the experience that might have been gained from their successes or their
shortcomings. Though a building of acknowledged architectural beauty, and
with some excellent features, it cannot be taken structurally as a model
museum when the test of adaptation to the purpose to which it is devoted
is rigidly applied.”
This unsuitableness, it may be added, is apparent not only in the lack
of accommodation for the study series, but in the exhibition galleries
themselves, where architectural ornament interferes with the proper
display of the specimens, if indeed it does not absolutely preclude
their being placed on the walls, while an excess of light (which has
been partially remedied by blocking up the lower portion of the windows
in some of the zoological galleries) causes the specimens to become
prematurely bleached and faded.
As regards the deficiency of accommodation for the study series in the
museum, Sir William endeavoured to remedy this, so far as possible, by
closing some portions of the galleries previously open to the public—a
step, which, however necessary, tended to mar the building, so far as
exhibition purposes are concerned.
“While thus maintaining,” writes his biographer in the “Year-book” of
the Royal Society for 1901, “the high scientific reputation of the
great National Museum, he continued to popularise the institution and
science by taking parties of working men round the museum on Sundays,
and occasionally a distinguished visitor, like Dr. Nansen, would also
join the group. Nor was he less attentive to members of the Royal Family,
or to distinguished statesmen, like Mr. Gladstone, who honoured the
museum with their presence. Foreign rulers, like the Queen of Holland,
the Prince of Naples, the Empress Frederick of Germany, and the King of
Siam, were also interested in the collection, so that the popularity
and welfare of the museum were greatly extended by the Director’s tact
and urbanity. Formerly, he had taken a leading part in interesting the
Prince of Wales (his present Majesty), who was present at Sir James
Paget’s Hunterian Oration in 1877, in the Museum of the Royal College
of Surgeons, and in arranging for an exhibition of the Prince’s hunting
trophies at the Zoological Society shortly afterwards, so in his
new sphere royal and other powerful influences were utilised for the
improvement and popularising of the collection.”
King Edward, as Prince of Wales, it may be added, was a constant
attendant at the meetings of the Board of Trustees at the Museum during
Sir William Flower’s administration; and would occasionally, at the close
of the meeting, accompanied by the Director, make an inspection of some
of the galleries. As indicative of the interest he took in the details of
the arrangement of the museum, it may be mentioned that on one of these
tours of inspection His Majesty took exception to the position assigned
to the head of a reindeer, and desired that it might be placed elsewhere.
One other point in connection with Sir William’s administration may be
noticed. Ever since its establishment the hall and public exhibition
galleries of the Natural History Museum had been guarded during
exhibition hours by members of the Metropolitan Police—an arrangement
which involved a very large expense to the country. Flower suggested
that, provided two or three police sergeants and constables were detailed
for special duty, the general work of guarding the collections could be
equally well done by members of the Corps of Commissionaires, thereby
not only effecting a considerable financial saving, but likewise a fresh
area of employment for a very deserving class of the community. This
arrangement, which was found to work smoothly and satisfactorily, has
remained in force ever since. It may be added that the opening of the
museum for a limited number of hours on Sunday afternoons commenced
during Flower’s tenure of office; this arrangement being common to other
institutions of a like nature.
At the special recommendation of the Trustees, the Treasury, when Sir
William reached the age for retirement, according to Civil Service rules,
extended his term of office for three years. A lengthened period of
physical weakness and prostration rendered it, however, impossible for
Flower to avail himself of the whole of this extension, and in July 1898
the state of his health was such that he felt himself compelled to send
in his resignation.
When this resignation was accepted by the Standing Committee of the
Trustees of the Museum, a special Minute, signed by Lord Dillon, gave
expression to the regret felt by that body and the Trustees generally
at the retirement of Sir William, to whom every compliment was paid as
a worthy successor of Sir Richard Owen, and as one who had done so much
towards the reorganisation of a museum pre-eminent amongst institutions
of its kind.
To enter upon the relations of Flower to his subordinates in the Museum
is treading upon somewhat delicate ground; it may be safely affirmed,
however, that to those who were in full sympathy and accord with his
way of looking at things and his schemes for the general advancement
and improvement of the institution under his charge, no truer friend or
kinder master could possibly have been found. Owing to the fact that the
time of the permanent officials of the museum is for the most part fully
occupied in working out the store collections, and registering and, when
necessary, describing new acquisitions, Sir William soon found that he
had not sufficient skilled labour at his disposal wherewith to carry out
the installation of the Index Museum and his meditated improvements in
the exhibition series. Accordingly he obtained the assent of the Treasury
to employ the services of a few scientific men not on the staff of the
museum for these purposes; an arrangement which has been continued under
his successor.
Sir William’s services to the museum, as well as to science in general,
are commemorated by a bust, executed by Mr. T. Brock, and placed on the
south side of the entrance to the first “bay” of the Index Museum. The
funds necessary for this were raised by the “Flower Memorial Committee,”
to which Mr. F. E. Beddard, Prosector of the Zoological Society, acted as
Secretary. The bust, which in a profile view, is an excellent likeness
of the late Director, was unveiled on 26th July 1903, by the Archbishop
of Canterbury, in the presence of a representative assemblage of men of
science and personal friends, as well as of statesmen.
The proceedings were opened by Professor E. Ray Lankester, the Director
of the Museum, who moved that Lord Avebury (better known in scientific
circles as Sir John Lubbock), the Chairman of the Memorial Committee,
should take the chair. The Chairman, having taken his seat, expressed his
pleasure in being called upon to preside at the ceremony, on account of
his admiration and respect for the late Sir William Flower, and for the
services he had rendered to zoological science.
Dr. Philip Lutley Sclater, the Secretary of the Zoological Society, also
spoke as an old and intimate friend of the late Director, with whom he
had been brought into specially close contact during the long period the
latter presided over the Zoological Society.
The Archbishop of Canterbury, in a brief speech previous to unveiling the
bust, referred to two traits in Flower’s character which had specially
struck his Grace, and which were seldom found associated in the same
individual, one of these being his great love of talking on his own
special subjects of study, and the other that, in spite of this, he never
bored even the least interested of his hearers. During his Directorship
Flower had done more to popularise the museum, and museums generally,
than had any other man of science.
The proceedings closed with the usual vote of thanks to the Chairman.
In addition to writing numerous scientific memoirs, Flower found time
during his tenure of the Directorship of the museum to prepare for
publication two volumes of considerable interest. The first was the one
on _The Horse_, issued in 1891, to which fuller reference is made in a
later chapter; and the second, the well-known _Essays on Museums_, which
appeared in 1898, and consists of a collected series of essays, articles,
addresses, etc., on natural history and kindred subjects. A melancholy
interest attached to this volume (which is dedicated to Lady Flower),
since, as we are told in the preface, it was compiled during a period of
enforced restraint from active occupation, which was evidently only the
prelude to the final breakdown.
It was also during his Directorship of the Museum that _The Study of
Mammals_ saw the light.