LONDON AND CAMBRIDGE.
1836-1842.
The period illustrated in the present chapter includes the years between
Darwin's return from the voyage of the _Beagle_ and his settling at
Down. It is marked by the gradual appearance of that weakness of health
which ultimately forced him to leave London and take up his abode for
the rest of his life in a quiet country house.
There is no evidence of any intention of entering a profession after his
return from the voyage, and early in 1840 he wrote to Fitz-Roy: "I have
nothing to wish for, excepting stronger health to go on with the
subjects to which I have joyfully determined to devote my life."
These two conditions--permanent ill-health and a passionate love of
scientific work for its own sake--determined thus early in his career,
the character of his whole future life. They impelled him to lead a
retired life of constant labour, carried on to the utmost limits of his
physical power, a life which signally falsified his melancholy
prophecy:--"It has been a bitter mortification for me to digest the
conclusion that the 'race is for the strong,' and that I shall probably
do little more, but be content to admire the strides others make in
science."
The end of the last chapter saw my father safely arrived at Shrewsbury
on October 4, 1836, "after an absence of five years and two days." He
wrote to Fox: "You cannot imagine how gloriously delightful my first
visit was at home; it was worth the banishment." But it was a pleasure
that he could not long enjoy, for in the last days of October he was at
Greenwich unpacking specimens from the _Beagle_. As to the destination
of the collections he writes, somewhat despondingly, to Henslow:--
"I have not made much progress with the great men. I find, as you told
me, that they are all overwhelmed with their own business. Mr. Lyell has
entered, in the _most_ good-natured manner, and almost without being
asked, into all my plans. He tells me, however, the same story, that I
must do all myself. Mr. Owen seems anxious to dissect some of the
animals in spirits, and, besides these two, I have scarcely met any one
who seems to wish to possess any of my specimens. I must except Dr.
Grant, who is willing to examine some of the corallines. I see it is
quite unreasonable to hope for a minute that any man will undertake the
examination of a whole order. It is clear the collectors so much
outnumber the real naturalists that the latter have no time to spare.
"I do not even find that the Collections care for receiving the unnamed
specimens. The Zoological Museum[97] is nearly full, and upwards of a
thousand specimens remain unmounted. I dare say the British Museum would
receive them, but I cannot feel, from all I hear, any great respect even
for the present state of that establishment. Your plan will be not only
the best, but the only one, namely, to come down to Cambridge, arrange
and group together the different families, and then wait till people,
who are already working in different branches, may want specimens....
"I have forgotten to mention Mr. Lonsdale,[98] who gave me a most
cordial reception, and with whom I had much most interesting
conversation. If I was not much more inclined for geology than the other
branches of Natural History, I am sure Mr. Lyell's and Lonsdale's
kindness ought to fix me. You cannot conceive anything more thoroughly
good-natured than the heart-and-soul manner in which he put himself in
my place and thought what would be best to do."
A few days later he writes more cheerfully: "I became acquainted with
Mr. Bell,[99] who, to my surprise, expressed a good deal of interest
about my crustacea and reptiles, and seems willing to work at them. I
also heard that Mr. Broderip would be glad to look over the South
American shells, so that things flourish well with me."
Again, on November 6:--
"All my affairs, indeed, are most prosperous; I find there are plenty
who will undertake the description of whole tribes of animals, of which
I know nothing."
As to his Geological Collection he was soon able to write: "I [have]
disposed of the most important part [of] my collections, by giving all
the fossil bones to the College of Surgeons, casts of them will be
distributed, and descriptions published. They are very curious and
valuable; one head belonged to some gnawing animal, but of the size of a
Hippopotamus! Another to an ant-eater of the size of a horse!"
My father's specimens included (besides the above-mentioned Toxodon and
Scelidotherium) the remains of Mylodon, Glossotherium, another gigantic
animal allied to the ant-eater, and Macrauchenia. His discovery of these
remains is a matter of interest in itself, but it has a special
importance as a point in his own life, his speculation on the extinction
of these extraordinary creatures[100] and on their relationship to
living forms having formed one of the chief starting-points of his views
on the origin of species. This is shown in the following extract from
his Pocket Book for this year (1837): "In July opened first note-book on
Transmutation of Species. Had been greatly struck from about the month
of previous March on character of South American fossils, and species on
Galapagos Archipelago. These facts (especially latter), origin of all my
views."
His affairs being thus so far prosperously managed he was able to put
into execution his plan of living at Cambridge, where he settled on
December 10th, 1836.
"Cambridge," he writes, "yet continues a very pleasant, but not half so
merry a place as before. To walk through the courts of Christ's College,
and not know an inhabitant of a single room, gave one a feeling half
melancholy. The only evil I found in Cambridge was its being too
pleasant: there was some agreeable party or another every evening, and
one cannot say one is engaged with so much impunity there as in this
great city."[101]
Early in the spring of 1837 he left Cambridge for London, and a week
later he was settled in lodgings at 36 Great Marlborough Street; and
except for a "short visit to Shrewsbury" in June, he worked on till
September, being almost entirely employed on his _Journal_, of which he
wrote (March):--
"In your last letter you urge me to get ready _the_ book. I am now hard
at work and give up everything else for it. Our plan is as follows:
Capt. Fitz-Roy writes two volumes out of the materials collected during
the last voyage under Capt. King to Tierra del Fuego, and during our
circumnavigation. I am to have the third volume, in which I intend
giving a kind of journal of a naturalist, not following, however, always
the order of time, but rather the order of position."
A letter to Fox (July) gives an account of the progress of his work:--
"I gave myself a holiday and a visit to Shrewsbury [in June], as I had
finished my Journal. I shall now be very busy in filling up gaps and
getting it quite ready for the press by the first of August. I shall
always feel respect for every one who has written a book, let it be what
it may, for I had no idea of the trouble which trying to write common
English could cost one. And, alas, there yet remains the worst part of
all, correcting the press. As soon as ever that is done I must put my
shoulder to the wheel and commence at the Geology. I have read some
short papers to the Geological Society, and they were favourably
received by the great guns, and this gives me much confidence, and I
hope not a very great deal of vanity, though I confess I feel too often
like a peacock admiring his tail. I never expected that my Geology would
ever have been worth the consideration of such men as Lyell, who has
been to me, since my return, a most active friend. My life is a very
busy one at present, and I hope may ever remain so; though Heaven knows
there are many serious drawbacks to such a life, and chief amongst them
is the little time it allows one for seeing one's natural friends. For
the last three years, I have been longing and longing to be living at
Shrewsbury, and after all now in the course of several months, I see my
good dear people at Shrewsbury for a week. Susan and Catherine have,
however, been staying with my brother here for some weeks, but they had
returned home before my visit."
In August he writes to Henslow to announce the success of the scheme for
the publication of the _Zoology of the Voyage of the Beagle_, through
the promise of a grant of L1000 from the Treasury: "I had an interview
with the Chancellor of the Exchequer.[102] He appointed to see me this
morning, and I had a long conversation with him, Mr. Peacock being
present. Nothing could be more thoroughly obliging and kind than his
whole manner. He made no sort of restriction, but only told me to make
the most of the money, which of course I am right willing to do.
"I expected rather an awful interview, but I never found anything less
so in my life. It will be my fault if I do not make a good work; but I
sometimes take an awful fright that I have not materials enough. It will
be excessively satisfactory at the end of some two years to find all
materials made the most they were capable of."
Later in the autumn he wrote to Henslow: "I have not been very well of
late, with an uncomfortable palpitation of the heart, and my doctors
urge me _strongly_ to knock off all work, and go and live in the country
for a few weeks." He accordingly took a holiday of about a month at
Shrewsbury and Maer, and paid Fox a visit in the Isle of Wight. It was,
I believe, during this visit, at Mr. Wedgwood's house at Maer, that he
made his first observations on the work done by earthworms, and late in
the autumn he read a paper on the subject at the Geological Society.
Here he was already beginning to make his mark. Lyell wrote to Sedgwick
(April 21, 1837):--
"Darwin is a glorious addition to any society of geologists, and is
working hard and making way both in his book and in our discussions. I
really never saw that bore Dr. Mitchell so successfully silenced, or
such a bucket of cold water so dexterously poured down his back, as when
Darwin answered some impertinent and irrelevant questions about South
America. We escaped fifteen minutes of Dr. M.'s vulgar harangue in
consequence...."
Early in the following year (1838), he was, much against his will,
elected Secretary of the Geological Society, an office he held for three
years. A chief motive for his hesitation in accepting the post was the
condition of his health, the doctors having urged "me to give up
entirely all writing and even correcting press for some weeks. Of late
anything which flurries me completely knocks me up afterwards, and
brings on a violent palpitation of the heart."
In the summer of 1838 he started on his expedition to Glen Roy, where he
spent "eight good days" over the Parallel Roads. His Essay on this
subject was written out during the same summer, and published by the
Royal Society.[103] He wrote in his Pocket Book: "September 6 (1838).
Finished the paper on 'Glen Roy,' one of the most difficult and
instructive tasks I was ever engaged on." It will be remembered that in
his _Autobiography_ he speaks of this paper as a failure, of which he
was ashamed.[104]
_C. D. to Lyell._ [August 9th, 1838.]
36 Great Marlborough Street.
MY DEAR LYELL--I did not write to you at Norwich, for I thought I should
have more to say, if I waited a few more days. Very many thanks for the
present of your _Elements_, which I received (and I believe the _very
first_ copy distributed) together with your note. I have read it through
every word, and am full of admiration of it, and, as I now see no
geologist, I must talk to you about it. There is no pleasure in reading
a book if one cannot have a good talk over it; I repeat, I am full of
admiration of it, it is as clear as daylight, in fact I felt in many
parts some mortification at thinking how geologists have laboured and
struggled at proving what seems, as you have put it, so evidently
probable. I read with much interest your sketch of the secondary
deposits; you have contrived to make it quite "juicy," as we used to say
as children of a good story. There was also much new to me, and I have
to copy out some fifty notes and references. It must do good, the
heretics against common-sense must yield.... By the way, do you
recollect my telling you how much I disliked the manner X. referred to
his other works, as much as to say, "You must, ought, and shall buy
everything I have written." To my mind, you have somehow quite avoided
this; your references only seem to say, "I can't tell you all in this
work, else I would, so you must go to the _Principles_; and many a one,
I trust, you will send there, and make them, like me, adorers of the
good science of rock-breaking."[105] You will see I am in a fit of
enthusiasm, and good cause I have to be, when I find you have made such
infinitely more use of my Journal than I could have anticipated. I will
say no more about the book, for it is all praise. I must, however,
admire the elaborate honesty with which you quote the words of all
living and dead geologists.
My Scotch expedition answered brilliantly; my trip in the steam-packet
was absolutely pleasant, and I enjoyed the spectacle, wretch that I am,
of two ladies, and some small children quite sea-sick, I being well.
Moreover, on my return from Glasgow to Liverpool, I triumphed in a
similar manner over some full-grown men. I stayed one whole day in
Edinburgh, or more truly on Salisbury Craigs; I want to hear some day
what you think about that classical ground,--the structure was to me new
and rather curious,--that is, if I understand it right. I crossed from
Edinburgh in gigs and carts (and carts without springs, as I never shall
forget) to Loch Leven. I was disappointed in the scenery, and reached
Glen Roy on Saturday evening, one week after leaving Marlborough Street.
Here I enjoyed five [?] days of the most beautiful weather with gorgeous
sunsets, and all nature looking as happy as I felt. I wandered over the
mountains in all directions, and examined that most extraordinary
district. I think, without any exceptions, not even the first volcanic
island, the first elevated beach, or the passage of the Cordillera, was
so interesting to me as this week. It is far the most remarkable area I
ever examined. I have fully convinced myself (after some doubting at
first) that the shelves are sea-beaches, although I could not find a
trace of a shell; and I think I can explain away most, if not all, the
difficulties. I found a piece of a road in another valley, not hitherto
observed, which is important; and I have some curious facts about
erratic blocks, one of which was perched up on a peak 2200 feet above
the sea. I am now employed in writing a paper on the subject, which I
find very amusing work, excepting that I cannot anyhow condense it into
reasonable limits. At some future day I hope to talk over some of the
conclusions with you, which the examination of Glen Roy has led me to.
Now I have had my talk out, I am much easier, for I can assure you Glen
Roy has astonished me.
I am living very quietly, and therefore pleasantly, and am crawling on
slowly but steadily with my work. I have come to one conclusion, which
you will think proves me to be a very sensible man, namely, that
whatever you say proves right; and as a proof of this, I am coming into
your way of only working about two hours at a spell; I then go out and
do my business in the streets, return and set to work again, and thus
make two separate days out of one. The new plan answers capitally; after
the second half day is finished I go and dine at the Athenaeum like a
gentleman, or rather like a lord, for I am sure the first evening I sat
in that great drawing-room, all on a sofa by myself, I felt just like a
duke. I am full of admiration at the Athenaeum, one meets so many people
there that one likes to see....
I have heard from more than one quarter that quarrelling is expected at
Newcastle[106]; I am sorry to hear it. I met old ---- this evening at
the Athenaeum, and he muttered something about writing to you or some one
on the subject; I am however all in the dark. I suppose, however, I
shall be illuminated, for I am going to dine with him in a few days, as
my inventive powers failed in making any excuse. A friend of mine dined
with him the other day, a party of four, and they finished ten bottles
of wine--a pleasant prospect for me; but I am determined not even to
taste his wine, partly for the fun of seeing his infinite disgust and
surprise....
I pity you the infliction of this most unmerciful letter. Pray remember
me most kindly to Mrs. Lyell when you arrive at Kinnordy. Tell Mrs.
Lyell to read the second series of 'Mr. Slick of Slickville's
Sayings.'... He almost beats 'Samivel,' that prince of heroes. Good
night, my dear Lyell; you will think I have been drinking some strong
drink to write so much nonsense, but I did not even taste Minerva's
small beer to-day....
A record of what he wrote during the year 1838 would not give a true
index of the most important work that was in progress--the laying of the
foundation-stones of what was to be the achievement of his life. This is
shown in the following passages from a letter to Lyell (September), and
from a letter to Fox, written in June:--
"I wish with all my heart that my Geological book was out. I have every
motive to work hard, and will, following your steps, work just that
degree of hardness to keep well. I should like my volume to be out
before your new edition of the _Principles_ appears. Besides the Coral
theory, the volcanic chapters will, I think, contain some new facts. I
have lately been sadly tempted to be idle--that is, as far as pure
geology is concerned--by the delightful number of new views which have
been coming in thickly and steadily--on the classification and
affinities and instincts of animals--bearing on the question of species.
Note-book after note-book has been filled with facts which begin to
group themselves _clearly_ under sub-laws."
"I am delighted to hear you are such a good man as not to have forgotten
my questions about the crossing of animals. It is my prime hobby, and I
really think some day I shall be able to do something in that most
intricate subject, species and varieties."
In the winter of 1839 (Jan. 29) my father was married to his cousin,
Emma Wedgwood.[107] The house in which they lived for the first few
years of their married life, No. 12 Upper Gower Street, was a small
common-place London house, with a drawing-room in front, and a small
room behind, in which they lived for the sake of quietness. In later
years my father used to laugh over the surpassing ugliness of the
furniture, carpets, &c., of the Gower Street house. The only redeeming
feature was a better garden than most London houses have, a strip as
wide as the house, and thirty yards long. Even this small space of dingy
grass made their London house more tolerable to its two country-bred
inhabitants.
Of his life in London he writes to Fox (October 1839): "We are living a
life of extreme quietness; Delamere itself, which you describe as so
secluded a spot, is, I will answer for it, quite dissipated compared
with Gower Street. We have given up all parties, for they agree with
neither of us; and if one is quiet in London, there is nothing like its
quietness--there is a grandeur about its smoky fogs, and the dull
distant sounds of cabs and coaches; in fact you may perceive I am
becoming a thorough-paced Cockney, and I glory in the thought that I
shall be here for the next six months."
The entries of ill health in the Diary increase in number during these
years, and as a consequence the holidays become longer and more
frequent.
The entry under August 1839 is: "Read a little, was much unwell and
scandalously idle. I have derived this much good, that _nothing_ is so
intolerable as idleness."
At the end of 1839 his first child was born, and it was then that he
began his observations ultimately published in the _Expression of the
Emotions_. His book on this subject, and the short paper published in
_Mind_,[108] show how closely he observed his child. He seems to have
been surprised at his own feeling for a young baby, for he wrote to Fox
(July 1840): "He [_i.e._ the baby] is so charming that I cannot pretend
to any modesty. I defy anybody to flatter us on our baby, for I defy
anyone to say anything in its praise of which we are not fully
conscious.... I had not the smallest conception there was so much in a
five-month baby. You will perceive by this that I have a fine degree of
paternal fervour."
In 1841 some improvement in his health became apparent; he wrote in
September:--
"I have steadily been gaining ground, and really believe now I shall
some day be quite strong. I write daily for a couple of hours on my
Coral volume, and take a little walk or ride every day. I grow very
tired in the evenings, and am not able to go out at that time, or hardly
to receive my nearest relations; but my life ceases to be burdensome now
that I can do something."
The manuscript of _Coral Reefs_ was at last sent to the printers in
January 1842, and the last proof corrected in May. He thus writes of the
work in his diary:--
"I commenced this work three years and seven months ago. Out of this
period about twenty months (besides work during _Beagle's_ voyage) has
been spent on it, and besides it, I have only compiled the Bird part of
Zoology; Appendix to Journal, paper on Boulders, and corrected papers on
Glen Roy and earthquakes, reading on species, and rest all lost by
illness."
The latter part of this year belongs to the period including the
settlement at Down, and is therefore dealt with in another chapter.
FOOTNOTES:
[97] The Museum of the Zoological Society, then at 33 Bruton Street. The
collection was some years later broken up and dispersed.
[98] William Lonsdale, b. 1794, d. 1871, was originally in the army, and
served at the battles of Salamanca and Waterloo. After the war he left
the service and gave himself up to science. He acted as
assistant-secretary to the Geological Society from 1829-42, when he
resigned, owing to ill-health.
[99] T. Bell, F.R.S., formerly Professor of Zoology in King's College,
London, and sometime secretary to the Royal Society. He afterwards
described the reptiles for the _Zoology of the Voyage of the Beagle_.
[100] I have often heard him speak of the despair with which he had to
break off the projecting extremity of a huge, partly excavated bone,
when the boat waiting for him would wait no longer.
[101] A trifling record of my father's presence in Cambridge occurs in
the book kept in Christ's College Combination-room, in which fines and
bets are recorded, the earlier entries giving a curious impression of
the after-dinner frame of mind of the Fellows. The bets are not allowed
to be made in money, but are, like the fines, paid in wine. The bet
which my father made and lost is thus recorded:--
"_Feb. 23, 1837._--Mr. Darwin _v._ Mr. Baines, that the combination-room
measures from the ceiling to the floor more than _x_ feet.
"1 Bottle paid same day."
The bets are usually recorded in such a way as not to preclude future
speculation on a subject which has proved itself capable of supplying a
discussion (and a bottle) to the Room, hence the _x_ in the above
quotation.
[102] Spring Rice.
[103] _Phil. Trans._, 1839, pp. 39-82.
[104] Sir Archibald Geikie has been so good as to allow me to quote a
passage from a letter addressed to me (Nov. 19, 1884):--"Had the idea of
transient barriers of glacier-ice occurred to him, he would have found
the difficulties vanish from the lake-theory which he opposed, and he
would not have been unconsciously led to minimise the altogether
overwhelming objections to the supposition that the terraces are of
marine origin."
It may be added that the idea of the barriers being formed by glaciers
could hardly have occurred to him, considering the state of knowledge at
the time, and bearing in mind his want of opportunities of observing
glacial action on a large scale.
[105] In a letter of Sept. 13 he wrote:--"It will be a curious point to
geologists hereafter to note how long a man's name will support a theory
so completely exposed as that of De Beaumont has been by you; you say
you 'begin to hope that the great principles there insisted on will
stand the test of time.' _Begin to hope_: why, the _possibility_ of a
doubt has never crossed my mind for many a day. This may be very
unphilosophical, but my geological salvation is staked on it."
[106] At the meeting of the British Association.
[107] Daughter of Josiah Wedgwood of Maer, and grand-daughter of the
founder of the Etruria Pottery Works.
[108] July 1877.