discoveries yet to be made in those remote wilds; and should he succeed
in bringing home even a head alone, with features as perfect as those
of that which I have brought, far from being envious of him, I should
consider him a modern Alcides, fully entitled to register a thirteenth
labour. Now if, on the other hand, we argue that this head in question
has had all its original features destroyed, and a set of new ones
given to it, by what means has this hitherto unheard-of change been
effected? Nobody in any of our museums has as yet been able to restore
the natural features to stuffed animals; and he who has any doubts of
this, let him take a living cat or dog and compare them with a stuffed
cat or dog in any of the first-rate museums. A momentary glance of the
eye would soon settle his doubts on this head.
If I have succeeded in effacing the features of a brute, and putting
those of a man in their place, we might be entitled to say that the sun
of Proteus has risen to our museums:
Unius hic faciem, facies transformat in omnes;
Nunc homo, nunc tigris; nunc equa, nunc mulier.
If I have effected this, we can now give to one side of the skin of a
man's face the appearance of eighty years and to the other side that of
blooming seventeen. We could make the forehead and eyes serene in
youthful beauty and shape the mouth and jaws to the features of a
malicious old ape. Here is a new field opened to the adventurous and
experimental naturalist: I have trodden it up and down till I am almost
weary. To get at it myself I have groped through an alley which may be
styled in the words of Ovid:
Arduus, obliquus, caligine densus opaca.
I pray thee, gentle reader, let me out awhile. Time passes on apace;
and I want to take thee to have a peep at the spots where mines are
supposed to exist in Guiana. As the story of this singular head has
probably not been made out to thy satisfaction, perhaps (I may say it
nearly in Corporal Trim's words), on some long and dismal winter's
evening, but not now, I may tell thee more about it; together with that
of another head which is equally striking.
It is commonly reported, and I think there is no reason to doubt the
fact, that when Demerara and Essequibo were under the Dutch flag there
were mines of gold and silver opened near to the River Essequibo. The
miners were not successful in their undertaking, and it is generally
conjectured that their failure proceeded from inexperience.
Now, when you ascend the Essequibo, some hundred miles above the place
where these mines are said to be found, you get into a high, rocky and
mountainous country. Here many of the mountains have a very barren
aspect, producing only a few stinted shrubs, and here and there a tuft
of coarse grass. I could not learn that they have ever been explored,
and at this day their mineralogy is totally unknown to us. The Indians
are so thinly scattered in this part of the country that there would be
no impropriety in calling it uninhabited:
Apparent rari errantes in gurgite vasto.
It remains to be yet learnt whether this portion of Guiana be worth
looking after with respect to its supposed mines. The mining
speculations at present are flowing down another channel. The rage in
England for working the mines of other states has now risen to such a
pitch, that it would require a considerable degree of caution in a mere
wanderer of the woods in stepping forward to say anything that might
tend to raise or depress the spirits of the speculators.
A question or two, however, might be asked. When the revolted colonies
shall have repaired in some measure the ravages of war, and settled
their own political economy upon a firm foundation, will they quietly
submit to see foreigners carrying away those treasures which are
absolutely part of their own soil, and which necessity (necessity has
no law) forced them to barter away in their hour of need? Now, if it
should so happen that the masters of the country begin to repent of
their bargain and become envious of the riches which foreigners carry
off, many a teasing law might be made and many a vexatious enaction
might be put in force that would in all probability bring the
speculators into trouble and disappointment.
Besides this consideration there is another circumstance which ought
not to be overlooked. I allude to the change of masters nearly
throughout the whole of America. It is a curious subject for the
European philosopher to moralise upon and for the politician to
examine. The more they consider it, the more they will be astonished.
If we may judge by what has already taken place, we are entitled to
predict that in a very few years more no European banner will be seen
to float in any part of the new world. Let us take a cursory view of it.
England some years ago possessed a large portion of the present United
States. France had Louisiana; Spain held the Floridas, Mexico, Darien,
Terra Firma, Buenos Ayres, Paraguay, Chili, Peru and California; and
Portugal ruled the whole of Brazil. All these immense regions are now
independent states. England, to be sure, still has Canada, Nova Scotia
and a few creeks on the coast of Labrador; also a small settlement in
Honduras, and the wilds of Demerara and Essequibo; and these are all.
France has not a foot of ground, except the forests of Cayenne.
Portugal has lost every province; Spain is blockaded in nearly her last
citadel; and the Dutch flag is only seen in Surinam. Nothing more now
remains to Europe of this immense continent where but a very few years
ago she reigned triumphant.
With regard to the West India Islands, they may be considered as the
mere outposts of this mammoth domain. St. Domingo has already shaken
off her old masters and become a star of observation to the rest of the
sable brethren. The anti-slavery associations of England, full of
benevolence and activity, have opened a tremendous battery upon the
last remaining forts which the lords of the old continent still hold in
the new world; and in all probability will not cease firing till they
shall have caused the last flag to be struck of Europe's late mighty
empire in the transatlantic regions. It cannot well be doubted but that
the sable hordes in the West Indies will like to follow good example
whenever they shall have it in their power to do so.
Now with St. Domingo as an example before them, how long will it be
before they try to raise themselves into independent states? And if
they should succeed in crushing us in these our last remaining
tenements, I would bet ten to one that none of the new Governments will
put on mourning for our departure out of the new world. We must well
remember that our own Government was taxed with injustice and
oppression by the United States during their great struggle; and the
British press for years past has, and is still, teeming with every kind
of abuse and unbecoming satire against Spain and Portugal for their
conduct towards the now revolted colonies.
France also comes in for her share of obloquy. Now this being the case,
will not America at large wish most devoutly for the day to come when
Europe shall have no more dominion over her? Will she not say to us:
Our new forms of government are very different from your old ones. We
will trade with you, but we shall always be very suspicious of you as
long as you retain possession of the West Indies, which are, as we may
say, close to our door-steads. You must be very cautious how you
interfere with our politics; for, if we find you meddling with them,
and by that means cause us to come to loggerheads, we shall be obliged
to send you back to your own homes three or four thousand miles across
the Atlantic; and then with that great ditch betwixt us we may hope we
shall be good friends. He who casts his eye on the East Indies will
there see quite a different state of things. The conquered districts
have merely changed one European master for another; and I believe
there is no instance of any portion of the East Indies throwing off the
yoke of the Europeans and establishing a Government of their own.
Ye who are versed in politics, and study the rise and fall of empires,
and know what is good for civilised man and what is bad for him, or, in
other words, what will make him happy and what will make him
miserable--tell us how comes it that Europe has lost almost her last
acre in the boundless expanse of territory which she so lately
possessed in the West, and still contrives to hold her vast property in
the extensive regions of the East?
But whither am I going? I find myself on a new and dangerous path.
Pardon, gentle reader, this sudden deviation. Methinks I hear thee
saying to me:
Tramite quo tendis, majoraque viribus audes.
I grant that I have erred, but I will do so no more. In general I avoid
politics; they are too heavy for me, and I am aware that they have
caused the fall of many a strong and able man; they require the
shoulders of Atlas to support their weight.
When I was in the rocky mountains of Macoushia, in the month of June
1812, I saw four young cock-of-the-rocks in an Indian's hut; they had
been taken out of the nest that week. They were of a uniform dirty
brown colour, and by the position of the young feathers upon the head
you might see that there would be a crest there when the bird arrived
at maturity. By seeing young ones in the month of June I immediately
concluded that the old cock-of-the-rock would be in fine plumage from
the end of November to the beginning of May; and that the naturalist
who was in quest of specimens for his museum ought to arrange his plans
in such a manner as to be able to get into Macoushia during these
months. However, I find now that no exact period can be fixed; for in
December 1824 an Indian in the River Demerara gave me a young
cock-of-the-rock not a month old, and it had just been brought from the
Macoushi country. By having a young specimen at this time of the year
it puts it out of one's power to say at what precise time the old birds
are in full plumage. I took it on board a ship with me for England, but
it was so very susceptible of cold that it shivered and died three days
after we had passed Antigua.
If ever there should be a great demand for large supplies of
gum-elastic, commonly called india-rubber, it may be procured in
abundance far away in the wilds of Demerara and Essequibo.
Some years ago, when I was in the Macoushi country, there was a capital
trick played upon me about india-rubber. It is, almost too good to be
left out of these wanderings, and it shows that the wild and uneducated
Indian is not without abilities. Weary and sick and feeble through loss
of blood, I arrived at some Indian huts which were about two hours
distant from the place where the gum-elastic trees grew. After a day
and a night's rest I went to them, and with my own hands made a fine
ball of pure india-rubber; it hardened immediately as it became exposed
to the air, and its elasticity was almost incredible.
While procuring it, exposure to the rain, which fell in torrents,
brought on a return of inflammation in the stomach, and I was obliged
to have recourse again to the lancet, and to use it with an unsparing
hand. I wanted another ball, but was not in a state the next morning to
proceed to the trees. A fine interesting young Indian, observing my
eagerness to have it, tendered his services, and asked two handfuls of
fish-hooks for his trouble.
Off he went, and to my great surprise returned in a very short time.
Bearing in mind the trouble and time it had cost me to make a ball, I
could account for this Indian's expedition in no other way except that,
being an inhabitant of the forest, he knew how to go about his work in
a much shorter way than I did. His ball, to be sure, had very little
elasticity in it. I tried it repeatedly, but it never rebounded a yard
high. The young Indian watched me with great gravity, and when I made
him understand that I expected the ball would dance better, he called
another Indian who knew a little English to assure me that I might be
quite easy on that score. The young rogue, in order to render me a
complete dupe, brought the new moon to his aid. He gave me to
understand that the ball was like the little moon which he pointed to,
and by the time it grew big and old the ball would bounce beautifully.
This satisfied me, and I gave him the fish-hooks, which he received
without the least change of countenance.
I bounced the ball repeatedly for two months after, but I found that it
still remained in its infancy. At last I suspected that the savage (to
use a vulgar phrase) had "come Yorkshire" over me; and so I determined
to find out how he had managed to take me in. I cut the ball in two,
and then saw what a taught trick he had played me. It seems he had
chewed some leaves into a lump the size of a walnut, and then dipped
them in the liquid gum-elastic. It immediately received a coat about as
thick as a sixpence. He then rolled some more leaves round it and gave
it another coat. He seems to have continued this process till he made
the ball considerably larger than the one I had procured; and in order
to put his roguery out of all chance of detection he made the last and
outer coat thicker than a dollar. This Indian would, no doubt, have
thriven well in some of our great towns.
Finding that the rainy season was coming on, I left the wilds of
Demerara and Essequibo with regret towards the close of December 1824,
and reached once more the shores of England after a long and unpleasant
passage.
Ere we part, kind reader, I could wish to draw a little of thy
attention to the instructions which are to be found at the end of this
book. Twenty years have now rolled away since I first began to examine
the specimens of zoology in our museums. As the system of preparation
is founded in error, nothing but deformity, distortion and
disproportion will be the result of the best intentions and utmost
exertions of the workman. Canova's education, taste and genius enabled
him to present to the world statues so correct and beautiful that they
are worthy of universal admiration. Had a common stonecutter tried his
hand upon the block out of which these statues were sculptured, what a
lamentable want of symmetry and fine countenance there would have been.
Now when we reflect that the preserved specimens in our museums and
private collections are always done upon a wrong principle, and
generally by low and illiterate people whose daily bread depends upon
the shortness of time in which they can get through their work, and
whose opposition to the true way of preparing specimens can only be
surpassed by their obstinacy in adhering to the old method, can we any
longer wonder at their want of success or hope to see a single specimen
produced that will be worth looking at? With this I conclude, hoping
that thou hast received some information, and occasionally had a smile
upon thy countenance, while perusing these _Wanderings_; and begging at
the same time to add that:
Well I know thy penetration
Many a stain and blot will see,
In the languid long narration,
Of my sylvan errantry.
For the pen too oft was weary,
In the wandering writer's hand,
As he roved through deep and dreary
Forests, in a distant land.
Show thy mercy, gentle reader,
Let him not entreat in vain;
It will be his strength's best feeder,
Should he ever go again.
And who knows, how soon complaining
Of a cold and wifeless home,
He may leave it, and again in
Equatorial regions roam.
C.W.
* * * * *
ON PRESERVING BIRDS FOR CABINETS OF NATURAL HISTORY
Were you to pay as much attention to birds as the sculptor does to the
human frame, you would immediately see, on entering a museum, that the
specimens are not well done.
This remark will not be thought severe when you reflect that that which
once was a bird has probably been stretched, stuffed, stiffened and
wired by the hand of a common clown. Consider, likewise, how the
plumage must have been disordered by too much stretching or drying, and
perhaps sullied, or at least deranged, by the pressure of a coarse and
heavy hand--plumage which, ere life had fled from within it, was
accustomed to be touched by nothing rougher than the dew of heaven and
the pure and gentle breath of air.
In dissecting, three things are necessary to ensure success: viz. a
penknife, a hand not coarse or clumsy, and practice. The first will
furnish you with the means; the second will enable you to dissect; and
the third cause you to dissect well. These may be called the mere
mechanical requisites.
In stuffing, you require cotton, a needle and thread, a little stick
the size of a common knitting-needle, glass eyes, a solution of
corrosive sublimate, and any kind of a common temporary box to hold the
specimen. These also may go under the same denomination as the former.
But if you wish to excel in the art, if you wish to be in ornithology
what Angelo was in sculpture, you must apply to profound study and your
own genius to assist you. And these may be called the scientific
requisites.
You must have a complete knowledge of ornithological anatomy. You must
pay close attention to the form and attitude of the bird, and know
exactly the proportion each curve, or extension, or contraction, or
expansion of any particular part bears to the rest of the body. In a
word, you must possess Promethean boldness and bring down fire and
animation, as it were, into your preserved specimen.
Repair to the haunts of birds on plains and mountains, forests, swamps
and lakes, and give up your time to examine the economy of the
different orders of birds.
Then you will place your eagle in attitude commanding, the same as
Nelson stood in in the day of battle on the _Victory's_ quarter-deck.
Your pie will seem crafty and just ready to take flight, as though
fearful of being surprised in some mischievous plunder. Your sparrow
will retain its wonted pertness by means of placing his tail a little
elevated and giving a moderate arch to the neck. Your vulture will show
his sluggish habits by having his body nearly parallel to the earth,
his wings somewhat drooping, and their extremities under the tail
instead of above it--expressive of ignoble indolence.
Your dove will be in artless, fearless innocence; looking mildly at you
with its neck not too much stretched, as if uneasy in its situation; or
drawn too close into the shoulders, like one wishing to avoid a
discovery; but in moderate, perpendicular length, supporting the head
horizontally, which will set off the breast to the best advantage. And
the breast ought to be conspicuous, and have this attention paid to
it--for when a young lady is sweet and gentle in her manners, kind and
affable to those around her, when her eyes stand in tears of pity for
the woes of others, and she puts a small portion of what Providence has
blessed her with into the hand of imploring poverty and hunger, then we
say she has the breast of a turtle-dove.
You will observe how beautifully the feathers of a bird are arranged:
one falling over the other in nicest order; and that where this
charming harmony is interrupted, the defect, though not noticed by an
ordinary spectator, will appear immediately to the eye of a naturalist.
Thus a bird not wounded and in perfect feather must be procured if
possible, for the loss of feathers can seldom be made good; and where
the deficiency is great, all the skill of the artist will avail him
little in his attempt to conceal the defect, because in order to hide
it he must contract the skin, bring down the upper feathers, and shove
in the lower ones, which would throw all the surrounding parts into
contortion.
You will also observe that the whole of the skin does not produce
feathers, and that it is very tender where the feathers do not grow.
The bare parts are admirably formed for expansion about the throat and
stomach, and they fit into the different cavities of the body at the
wings, shoulders, rump and thighs with wonderful exactness; so that, in
stuffing the bird, if you make an even, rotund surface of the skin
where these cavities existed, in lieu of re-forming them, all symmetry,
order and proportion are lost for ever.
You must lay it down as an absolute rule that the bird is to be
entirely skinned, otherwise you can never succeed in forming a true and
pleasing specimen.
You will allow this to be just, after reflecting a moment on the nature
of the fleshy parts and tendons, which are often left in: first, they
require to be well seasoned with aromatic spices; secondly, they must
be put into the oven to dry; thirdly, the heat of the fire, and the
natural tendency all cured flesh has to shrink and become hard, render
the specimen withered, distorted and too small; fourthly, the inside
then becomes like a ham, or any other dried meat. Ere long the insects
claim it as their own, the feathers begin to drop off, and you have the
hideous spectacle of death in ragged plumage.
Wire is of no manner of use, but, on the contrary, a great nuisance;
for where it is introduced a disagreeable stiffness and derangement of
symmetry follow.
The head and neck can be placed in any attitude, the body supported,
the wings closed, extended or elevated, the tail depressed, raised or
expanded, the thighs set horizontal or oblique, without any aid from
wire. Cotton will effect all this.
A very small proportion of the skull-bone, say from the forepart of the
eyes to the bill, is to be left in; though even this is not absolutely
necessary. Part of the wing-bones, the jaw-bones and half of the
thigh-bones remain. Everything else--flesh, fat, eyes, bones, brains
and tendons --is all to be taken away.
While dissecting it will be of use to keep in mind that, in taking off
the skin from the body by means of your fingers and a little knife, you
must try to shove it, in lieu of pulling it, lest you stretch it.
That you must press as lightly as possible on the bird, and every now
and then take a view of it to see that the feathers, etc., are all
right.
That when you come to the head you must take care that the body of the
skin rests on your knee; for if you allow it to dangle from your hand
its own weight will stretch it too much.
That, throughout the whole operation, as fast as you detach the skin
from the body you must put cotton immediately betwixt the body and it;
and this will effectually prevent any fat, blood or moisture from
coming in contact with the plumage. Here it may be observed that on the
belly you find an inner skin, which keeps the bowels in their place. By
a nice operation with the knife you can cut through the outer skin and
leave the inner skin whole. Attention to this will render your work
very clean; so that with a little care in other parts you may skin a
bird without even soiling your finger-ends.
As you can seldom get a bird without shooting it, a line or two on this
head will be necessary. If the bird be still alive, press it hard with
your finger and thumb just behind the wings, and it will soon expire.
Carry it by the legs, and then the body being reversed the blood cannot
escape down the plumage through the shot-holes. As blood will often
have issued out before you have laid hold of the bird, find out the
shot-holes by dividing the feathers with your fingers, and blowing on
them, and then with your penknife, or the leaf of a tree, carefully
remove the clotted blood and put a little cotton on the hole. If, after
all, the plumage has not escaped the marks of blood, or if it has
imbibed slime from the ground, wash the part in water, without soap,
and keep gently agitating the feathers with your fingers till they are
quite dry. Were you to wash them and leave them to dry by themselves,
they would have a very mean and shrivelled appearance.
In the act of skinning a bird you must either have it upon a table or
upon your knee. Probably you will prefer your knee; because when you
cross one knee over the other and have the bird upon the uppermost, you
can raise it to your eye, or lower it at pleasure, by means of the foot
on the ground, and then your knee will always move in unison with your
body, by which much stooping will be avoided and lassitude prevented.
With these precautionary hints in mind, we will now proceed to dissect
a bird. Suppose we take a hawk. The little birds will thank us with a
song for his death, for he has oppressed them sorely; and in size he is
just the thing. His skin is also pretty tough, and the feathers adhere
to it.