Home Life
(By W.G. WALLACE and VIOLET WALLACE)
In our father's youth and prime he was 6 ft. 1 in. in height, with
square though not very broad shoulders. At the time to which our first
clear recollections go back he had already acquired a slight stoop due
to long hours spent at his desk, and this became more pronounced with
advancing age; but he was always tall, spare and very active, and walked
with a long easy swinging stride which he retained to the end of his
life.
As a boy he does not appear to have been very athletic or muscularly
strong, and his shortsightedness probably prevented him from taking part
in many of the pastimes of his schoolfellows. He was never a good
swimmer, and he used to say that his long legs pulled him down. He was,
however, always a good walker and, until quite late in life, capable of
taking long country walks, of which he was very fond.
He was very quick and active in his movements at times, and even when 90
years of age would get up on a chair or sofa to reach a book from a high
shelf, and move about his study with rapid strides to find some paper to
which he wished to refer.
When out of doors he usually carried an umbrella, and in the garden a
stick, upon which he leaned rather heavily in his later years. His hair
became white rather early in life, but it remained thick and fine to the
last, a fact which he attributed to always wearing soft hats. He had
full beard and whiskers, which were also white. His eyes were blue and
his complexion rather pale. He habitually wore spectacles, and to us he
never looked quite natural without them. Towards the end of his life his
eyes were subject to inflammation, and the glasses were blue. His hands,
though large, were not clumsy, and were capable of very delicate
manipulation, as is shown by his skill in handling and preserving
insects and bird-skins, and also in sketching, where delicacy of touch
was essential. His handwriting is another example of this; it remained
clear and even to the end, in spite of the fact that he wrote all his
books, articles, and letters with his own hand until the last few years,
when he occasionally had assistance with his correspondence; but his
last two books, "Social Environment" and "The Revolt of Democracy,"
written when he was 90 years of age, were penned by himself, and the
MSS. are perfectly legible and regular.
He was very domestic, and loved his home. His interest extended to the
culinary art, and he was fond of telling us how certain things should be
cooked. This became quite a joke among us. He was very independent, and
it never seemed to occur to him to ask to have anything done for him if
he could do it himself--and he could do many things, such as sewing on
buttons and tapes and packing up parcels, with great neatness. When
unpacking parcels he never cut the string if it could be untied, and he
would fold it up before removing the paper, which in its turn was also
neatly folded.
His clothes were always loose and easy-fitting, and generally of some
quiet-coloured cloth or tweed. Out of doors he wore a soft black felt
hat rather taller than the clerical pattern, and a black overcoat unless
the weather was very warm. He wore no ornaments of any kind, and even
the silver watch-chain was worn so as to be invisible. He wore low
collars with turned-down points and a narrow black tie, which was,
however, concealed by his beard. He was not very particular about his
personal appearance, except that he always kept his hair and beard well
brushed and trimmed.
[Illustration: MRS. A.R. WALLACE (about 1895)]
In our early days at Grays we children were allowed to run in and out of
his study; but if he was busy writing at the moment we would look at a
book until he could give us his attention. His brother in California
sent him a live specimen of the lizard called the "horned toad," and
this creature was kept in the study, where it was allowed to roam about,
its favourite place being on the hearth.
About this time he read "Alice through the Looking-glass," which pleased
him greatly; he was never tired of quoting from it and using some of
Lewis Carroll's quaint words till it became one of our classics.
Some of our earliest recollections are of the long and interesting walks
we took with our father and mother. He never failed to point out
anything of interest and tell us what he knew about it, and would answer
our numerous questions if possible, or put us off with some joking
reference to Boojums or Jabberwocks. We looked upon him as an infallible
source of information, not only in our childhood, but to a large extent
all his life. When exploring the country he scorned "trespass boards."
He read them "Trespassers will be persecuted," and then ignored them,
much to our childish trepidation. If he was met by indignant gamekeepers
or owners, they were often too much awed by his dignified and commanding
appearance to offer any objection to his going where he wished. He was
fond of calling our attention to insects and to other objects of natural
history, and giving us interesting lessons about them. He delighted in
natural scenery, especially distant views, and our walks and excursions
were generally taken with some object, such as finding a bee-orchis or
a rare plant, or exploring a new part of the country, or finding a
waterfall.
In 1876 we went to live at Dorking, but stayed there only a year or two.
An instance of his love of mystifying us children may be given. It must
have been shortly after our arrival at Dorking that one day, having been
out to explore the neighbourhood, he returned about tea-time and said,
"Where do you think I have been? To Glory!" Of course we were very
properly excited, and plied him with questions, but we got nothing more
out of him then. Later on we were taken to see the wonderful place
called "Glory Wood"; and it had surely gained in glory by such
preparation.
Sometimes it would happen that a scene or object would recall an
incident in his tropical wanderings and he would tell us of the sights
he had seen. At the time he was greatly interested in botany, in which
he was encouraged by our mother, who was an ardent lover of flowers; and
to the end of his life he exhibited almost boyish delight when he
discovered a rare plant. Many walks and excursions were taken for the
purpose of seeing some uncommon plant growing in its natural habitat.
When he had found the object of his search we were all called to see it.
During his walks and holidays he made constant use of the one-inch
Ordnance Maps, which he obtained for each district he visited, planning
out our excursions on the map before starting. He had a gift for finding
the most beautiful walks by means of it.
In 1878 we moved to Croydon, where we lived about four years. It was at
this time that he hoped to get the post of Superintendent of Epping
Forest. We still remember all the delights we children were promised if
we went to live there. We had a day's excursion to see the Forest, he
with his map finding out the roads and stopping every now and then to
admire a fresh view or to explain what he would do if the opportunity
were given him. It was a very hot day, and we became so thirsty that
when we reached a stream, to our great joy and delight he took out of
his pocket, not the old leather drinking-cup he usually carried, but a
long piece of black indiarubber tubing. We can see him now, quite as
pleased as we were with this brilliant idea, letting it down into the
stream and then offering us a drink! No water ever tasted so nice! Our
mother used to be a little anxious as to the quality of the water, but
he always put aside such objections by saying _running_ water was quite
safe, and somehow we never came to any harm through it. The same happy
luck attended our cuts and scratches; he always put "stamp-paper" on
them, calling it plaster, and we knew of no other till years later. He
used the same thing for his own cuts, etc., to the end of his life, with
no ill effects.
In 1881 we moved again, this time to Godalming, where he had built a
small house which be called "Nutwood Cottage." After Croydon this was a
very welcome change and we all enjoyed the lovely country round. The
garden as usual was the chief hobby, and Mr. J.W. Sharpe, our old friend
and neighbour in those days, has written his reminiscences of this time
which give a very good picture of our father. They are as follows:
* * * * *
About thirty-five years ago Dr. Wallace built a house upon a plot of
ground adjoining that upon which our house stood. I was at that time an
assistant master at Charterhouse School; and Dr. Wallace became
acquainted with a few of the masters besides myself. With two or three
of them he had regular weekly games of chess; for he was then and for
long afterwards very fond of that game; and, I understand, possessed
considerable skill at it. A considerable portion of his spare time was
spent in his garden, in the management of which Mrs. Wallace, who had
much knowledge and experience of gardening, very cordially assisted him.
Here his characteristic energy and restlessness were conspicuously
displayed. He was always designing some new feature, some alteration in
a flower-bed, some special environment for a new plant; and always he
was confident that the new schemes would be found to have all the
perfections which the old ones lacked. From all parts of the world
botanists and collectors sent him, from time to time, rare or newly
discovered plants, bulbs, roots or seeds, which he, with the help of
Mrs. Wallace's practical skill, would try to acclimatise, and to
persuade to grow somewhere or other in his garden or conservatory.
Nothing disturbed his cheerful confidence in the future, and nothing
made him happier than some plan for reforming the house, the garden, the
kitchen-boiler, or the universe. And, truth to say, he displayed great
ingenuity in all these enterprises of reformation. Although they were
never in effect what they were expected to be by their ingenious author,
they were often sufficiently successful; but, successful or not, he was
always confident that the next would turn out to be all that he expected
of it. With the same confidence he made up his mind upon many a
disputable subject; but, be it said, never without a laborious
examination of the necessary data, and the acquisition of much
knowledge. In argument, of which intellectual exercise he was very fond,
he was a formidable antagonist. His power of handling masses of details
and facts, of showing their inner meanings and the principles underlying
them, and of making them intelligible, was very great; and very few men
of his time had it in equal measure.
But the most striking feature in his conversation was his masterly
application of general principles: these he handled with extraordinary
skill. In any subject with which he was familiar, he would solve, or
suggest a plausible solution of, difficulty after difficulty by
immediate reference to fundamental principles. This would give to his
conclusions an appearance of inevitableness which usually overbore his
adversary, and, even if it did not convince him, left him without any
effective reply. This, too, had a good deal to do, I am disposed to
conjecture, with another very noticeable characteristic of his which
often came out in conversation, and that was his apparently unfailing
confidence in the goodness of human nature. No man nor woman but he took
to be in the main honest and truthful, and no amount of
disappointment--not even losses of money and property incurred through
this faith in others' virtues--had the effect of altering this mental
habit of his.
His intellectual interests were very widely extended, and he once
confessed to me that they were agreeably stimulated by novelty and
opposition. An uphill fight in an unpopular cause, for preference a
thoroughly unpopular one, or any argument in favour of a generally
despised thesis, had charms for him that he could not resist. In his
later years, especially, the prospect of writing a new book, great or
small, upon any one of his favourite subjects always acted upon him like
a tonic, as much so as did the project of building a new house and
laying out a new garden. And in all this his sunny optimism and his
unfailing confidence in his own powers went far towards securing him
success.--J.W.S.
* * * * *
"Land Nationalisation" (1882), "Bad Times" (1885), and "Darwinism"
(1889) were written at Godalming, also the series of lectures which he
gave in America in 1886-7 and at various towns in the British Isles. He
also continued to have examination papers[43] to correct each year--and
a very strenuous time that was. Our mother used to assist him in this
work, and also with the indexes of his books.
We now began to make nature collections, in which he took the keenest
interest, many holidays and excursions being arranged to further these
engrossing pursuits. One or two incidents occurred at "Nutwood" which
have left clear impressions upon our minds. One day one of us brought
home a beetle, to the great horror of the servant. Passing at the
moment, he picked it up, saying, "Why, it is quite a harmless little
creature!" and to demonstrate its inoffensiveness he placed it on the
tip of his nose, whereupon it immediately bit him and even drew blood,
much to our amusment and his own astonishment. On another occasion he
was sitting with a book on the lawn under the oak tree when suddenly a
large creature alighted upon his shoulder. Looking round, he saw a fine
specimen of the ring-tailed lemur, of whose existence in the
neighbourhood he had no knowledge, though it belonged to some neighbours
about a quarter of a mile away. It seemed appropriate that the animal
should have selected for its attentions the one person in the district
who would not be alarmed at the sudden appearance of a strange animal
upon his shoulder. Needless to say, it was quite friendly.
A year or so before we left Godalming he enlarged the house and altered
the garden. But his health not having been very good, causing him a good
deal of trouble with his eyes, and having more or less exhausted the
possibilities of the garden, he decided to leave Godalming and find a
new house in a milder climate. So in 1889 he finally fixed upon a small
house at Parkstone in Dorset.
Planning and constructing houses, gardens, walls, paths, rockeries,
etc., were great hobbies of his, and he often spent hours making scale
drawings of some new house or of alterations to an existing one, and
scheming out the details of construction. At other times he would devise
schemes for new rockeries or waterworks, and he would always talk them
over with us and tell us of some splendid new idea he had hit upon. As
Mr. Sharpe has noted, he was always very optimistic, and if a scheme did
not come up to his expectations he was not discouraged but always
declared he could do it much better next time and overcome the defects.
He was generally in better health and happier when some constructional
work was in hand. He built three houses, "The Dell" at Grays, "Nutwood
Cottage" at Godalming, and the "Old Orchard" at Broadstone. The last he
actually built himself, employing the men and buying all the materials,
with the assistance of a young clerk of works; but though the enterprise
was a source of great pleasure, it was a constant worry. He also
designed and built a concrete garden wall, with which he was very
pleased, though it cost considerably more than he anticipated. He had
not been at Parkstone long before he set about the planning of
"alterations" with his usual enthusiasm. We were both away from home at
this time, and consequently had many letters from him, of which one is
given as a specimen. His various interests are nearly always referred to
in these letters, and in not a few of them his high spirits show
themselves in bursts of exuberance which were very characteristic
whenever a new scheme was afoot. The springs of eternal youth were for
ever bubbling up afresh, so that to us he never grew old. One of us
remembers how, when he must have been about 80, someone said, "What a
wonderful old man your father is!" This was quite a shock, for to us he
was not old. The letter referred to above is the following:
* * * * *
TO MR. W.G. WALLACE
_Parkstone, Dorset, February 1, 1891._
My dear Will,--Another week has passed away into eternity, another month
has opened its eyes on the world, and still the illustrious Charles
[bricklayer] potters about, still the carpenter plies the creaking saw
and the stunning hammer, still the plumber plumbs and the bellhanger
rattles, still the cisterns overflow and the unfinished drains send
forth odorous fumes, still the rains descend and all around the house
is a muddle of muck and mire, and still there is so much to do that we
look forward to some far distant futurity, when all that we are now
suffering will be over, and we may look back upon it as upon some
strange yet not altogether uninteresting nightmare!
Briefly to report progress. The new pipe-man has finished the bathroom
and nearly done the bells, and we have had gas alight the last three
days. The balcony is finished, the bath and lavatory are closed up and
waiting for the varnishers. Charles has finished the roof, and the
scaffolding is removed. But though two plumbers have tried all their
skill, the ball-cock in the cistern won't work, and when the water has
been turned on an hour it overflows. The gutters and pipes to roof are
not up, and the night before last a heavy flood of rain washed a
quantity of muddy water into the back entrance, which flowed right
across the kitchen into the back passage and larder, leaving a deposit
of alluvial mud that would have charmed a geologist. However, we have
stopped that for the future by a drain under the doorstep. The new
breakfast-room is being papered and will look tidy soon. A man has been
to measure for the stairs. The front porch door is promised for
to-morrow, and the stairs, I suppose, in another week. A lot of fresh
pointing is to be done, and all the rain-water pipes and the rain-water
cistern with its overflow pipes, and then the greenhouse, and then all
the outside painting--after which we shall rest for a month and then do
the inside papering; but whether that can be done before Easter seems
very doubtful....
Our alterations still go on. The stairs just up--Friday night we had to
go outside to get to bed, and Saturday and Sunday we _could_ get up, but
over a chasm, and with alarming creaks. Now it is all firm, but no
handrail yet. Painters still at work, and whitewashers. Porch
door up, with two birds in stained glass--looks fine--proposed
new name, "Dicky-bird Lodge." Bath fixed, but waiting to be
varnished--luxurious!...
* * * * *
Dr. Wallace had already received four medals from various scientific
societies, and at our suggestion he had a case made to hold them all,
which is referred to in the following letter. The two new medals
mentioned were those of the Royal Geographical and Linnean Societies. He
attached very little importance to honours conferred upon himself,
except in so far as they showed acceptance of "the truth," as he called
it.
* * * * *
TO MISS VIOLET WALLACE
_Parkstone, Dorset. April 3, 1892._
My dear Violet,-- ... I have got J.G. Wood's book on the horse. It is
very good; I think the best book he has written, as his heart was
evidently in it....
A dreadful thing has happened! Just as I have had my medal-case made,
"regardless of expense," they are going to give me another medal! Hadn't
I better decline it, with thanks? "No room for more medals"!!--Your
affectionate papa,
ALFRED R. WALLACE.
P.S.--A poor man came here last night (Saturday) with a basket of
primrose roots--had carried them eight miles, couldn't sell one in Poole
or Parkstone--was 64 years old--couldn't get any work to do--had no
home, etc. So, though I do not approve of digging up primrose roots as a
trade, I gave him 1s. 6d. for them, pitying him as one of the countless
victims of landlordism.--A.R.W.
A poor man was sentenced to fourteen days' hard labour last week for
picking snowdrops in Charborough Park. Shame!--A.R.W., Pres. L.N.
Society.
* * * * *
TO Miss VIOLET WALLACE
_Parkstone, Dorset. May 5, 1892._
My dear Violet,--I have finished reading "Freeland." It is very good--as
good a story as "Looking Backward," but not quite so pleasantly
written--rather heavy and Germanic in places. The results are much the
same as in "Looking Backward" but brought about in a different and very
ingenious manner. It may be called "Individualistic Socialism." I shall
be up in London soon, I expect, to the first Meetings of the Examiners
in the great science of "omnium gatherum."[44]--Your affec. papa,
ALFRED R. WALLACE.
* * * * *
While he lived at Parkstone our father built a small orchid house in
which he cultivated a number of orchids for a few years, but the
constant attention which they demanded, together with the heated
atmosphere, were too much for him, and he was obliged to give them up.
He was never tired of admiring their varied forms and colours, or
explaining to friends the wonderful apparatus by which many of them were
fertilised. The following letter shows his enthusiasm for orchids:
TO Miss VIOLET WALLACE
_Parkstone, Dorset. November_ 25, 1894.
My dear Violet,-- ... I have found a doctor at Poole (Mr. Turner) who
has two nice orchid houses which he attends to entirely himself, and as
I can thus get advice and sympathy from a fellow maniac (though he _is_
a public vaccinator!) my love of orchids is again aroused to fever-heat,
and I have made some alterations in the greenhouse which will better
adapt it for orchid growing, and have bought a few handsome kinds very
cheap, and these give me a lot of extra work and amusement....
* * * * *
TO HIS WIFE
_Hôtel du Glacier du Rhône. Wednesday evening, [July, 1895]._
My dear Annie,--I send you now a box of plants I got on both sides of
the Furka Pass yesterday, and about here to-day. The Furka Pass on both
sides is a perfect flower-garden, and the two sides have mostly
different species. The violets and anemones were lovely, and I have got
two species of glorious gentians.... All the flowers in the box are very
choice species, and have been carefully dug up, and having seen how they
grow, I have been thinking of a plan of making a little bed for them on
the top of the new rockery where there is now nothing particular. Will
you please plant them out carefully in the zinc tray of peat and
sphagnum that stands outside near the little greenhouse door? Just lift
up the sphagnum and see if the earth beneath is moist, if not give it a
soaking. Then put them all in, the short-rooted ones in the sphagnum
only, the others through into the peat. Then give them a good syringing
and put the tray under the shelf outside the greenhouse, and cover with
newspaper for a day or two. After that I think they will do, keeping
them moist if the weather is dry. I am getting hosts of curiosities.
To-day we found four or five species of willows from 1/4 in. to 2 in.
high, and other rarities.... In haste for post and dinner.--Your ever
affectionate
ALFRED R. WALLACE.
* * * * *
TO MISS VIOLET WALLACE
_Parkstone, Dorset. October 22, 1897._
My dear Violet,--In your previous letter you asked me the conundrum, Why
does a wagtail wag its tail? That's quite easy, on Darwinian principles.
Many birds wag their tails. Some Eastern flycatchers--also black and
white--wag their long tails up and down when they alight on the ground
or on a branch. Other birds with long tails jerk them up in the air when
they alight on a branch. Now these varied motions, like the motions of
many butterflies, caterpillars, and many other animals, must have a use
to the animal, and the most common, or rather the most probable, use is,
either to frighten or to distract an enemy. If a hawk was very hungry
and darted down on a wagtail from up in the air, the wagging tail would
be seen most distinctly and be aimed at, and thus the bird would be
missed or at most a feather torn out of the tail. The bird hunts for
food in the open, on the edges of ponds and streams, and would be
especially easy to capture, hence the wagging tail has been developed to
baffle the enemy....
* * * * *
TO MISS VIOLET WALLACE
_Parkstone, Dorset. March 8, 1899._
My dear Violet,-- ... I have now finished reading the "Maha Bharata,"
which is on the whole very fine--finer, I think, than the "Iliad." I
have read a good deal of it twice, and it will bear reading many times.
It corresponds pretty nearly in date with the "Iliad," the scenes it
describes being supposed to be about B.C. 1500. Many of the ideas and
moral teachings are beautiful; equal to the best teaching and superior
to the general practice of to-day. I have made a lot of emendations and
suggestions, which I am going to send to the translator, as the proofs
have evidently not been carefully read by any English literary man.
About the year 1899 Dr. Wallace began to think of leaving Parkstone,
partly for reasons of health and partly to get a larger garden, if
possible. He spent three years in looking for a suitable spot in many of
the southern counties, and we were all pressed to join in the search.
Finally he found just the spot he wanted at Broadstone; only three miles
away. The following letters describe his final success--all written
with his usual optimism and high spirits:
* * * * *
TO MR. W.G. WALLACE
_Parkstone, Dorset. October 26, 1901._
My dear Will,--At length the long quest has come to an end, and I have
agreed to buy three acres of land at Broadstone. Ma and I have just been
over again this morning to consider its capabilities, and the exact
boundaries that will be the most advantageous, as I have here the great
advantage of choosing exactly what I will have. I only wish I could
afford five acres instead of three, or even ten; but the three will
contain the very eye of the whole. I enclose you a bit of the 6-inch
ordnance on which I have marked the piece I have finally fixed upon in
red chalk. The attractive bit is the small enclosure of one acre, left
rather paler, which is an old orchard in a little valley sloping
downward to the S.S.E. There are, perhaps, a score of trees in
it--apples, pears, plums and cherries, I believe, and under them a
beautiful green short turf like a lawn--kept so, I believe, by rabbits.
From the top of this orchard is a fine view over moor and heather, then
over the great northern bay of Poole Harbour, and beyond to the Purbeck
Hills and out to the sea and the Old Harry headland. It is not very
high--about 140 feet, I think, but being on the edge of one of the
plateaus the view is very effective. On the top to the left of the road
track is a slightly undulating grass field, of which I have a little
less than an acre. To the right of the fence, and coming down to the
wood, is very rough ground densely covered with heather and dwarf gorse,
a great contrast to the field. The wood on the right is mixed but
chiefly oak, I think, with some large firs, one quite grand; while the
wood on the left is quite different, having some very tall Spanish
chestnuts loaded with fruit, some beeches, some firs--but I have not
had time yet to investigate thoroughly. Thus this little bit of three
acres has five subdivisions, each with a quite distinct character of its
own, and I never remember seeing such variety in such a small area. The
red wavy line is about where I shall have to make my road, for the place
has now no road, and I think I am very lucky in discovering it and in
getting it. Another advantage is in the land, which is varied to suit
all crops. I fancy ... I shall find places to grow most of my choice
shrubs, etc., better than here. I expect bulbs of all kinds will grow
well, and I mean to plant a thousand or so of snowdrops, crocuses,
squills, daffodils, etc., in the orchard, where they will look lovely.
* * * * *
TO MR. W.G. WALLACE
_Parkstone, Dorset. November 6, 1901._
My dear Will,-- ... I have taken advantage of a foggy cold day to trace
you a copy of the ground plan of the proposed house.... Of course the
house will be much larger than we want, but I look to future value, and
rather than build it smaller, to be enlarged afterwards, I would prefer
to leave the drawing-room and bedroom adjoining with bare walls inside
till they can be properly finished. The house-keeper's room would be a
nice dining-room, and the hall a parlour and drawing-room combined. But
the outside must be finished, on account of the garden, creepers, etc.
The S.E. side (really about S.S.E.) has the fine views. If you can
arrange to come at Christmas we will have a picnic on the ground the
first sunny day. I was all last week surveying--a very difficult job, to
mark out exactly three acres so as to take in exactly as much of each
kind of ground as I wanted, and with no uninterrupted view over any one
of the boundary lines! I found the sextant, and it was very useful
setting out the two right angles of the northern boundary. I have not
got possession yet, but hope to do so by next week. The house, we
reckon, can be built for £1,000 at the outside....
* * * * *
TO MRS. FISHER
_Parkstone, Dorset. February 4, 1902._
Dear Mrs. Fisher,-- ... You will be surprised to hear that I have been
so rash as to buy land and to (propose to) build a house! Every other
effort to get a pleasant country cottage with a little land having
failed, we discovered, accidentally, a charming spot only four miles
from this house and half a mile from Broadstone Station, and have
succeeded in buying three acres, _chosen by myself_, from Lord Wimborne
at what is really a reasonable price. In its contour, views, wood, and
general aspect of wild nature it is almost perfection; and Annie,
Violet, and Will are all pleased and satisfied with it. It is on the
slope of the Broadstone middle plateau, looking south over Poole Harbour
with the Purbeck Hills beyond, and a little eastward out to the sea....
The ground is good loam in the orchard, with some sand and clay in the
field, but this is so open to the sun and air that we are not afraid of
it, as the _house-site_ will be entirely concreted over, and I have
arranged for a heating stove in a cellar, which will warm and dry the
whole basement. In a week or two we hope to begin building, so you may
fancy how busy I am, especially as we are building it without a
contractor, with the help of a friend.... I go over two or three times a
week, as I have two gardeners at work. In the summer (should I be still
in the land of the living) I hope you will be able to come and see our
little estate, which is to be called by the descriptive name of "Old
Orchard." I have got a good architect to make the working drawings and
he has designed a very picturesque yet unpretentious house.--Yours very
truly,
ALFRED R. WALLACE.
* * * * *
TO MR. W.G. WALLACE
_Parkstone, Dorset. March 2, 1902._
My dear Will,--This week's progress has been fairly good although the
wet after the frost has caused two falls in the cellar excavations, and
we have had to put drain pipes to carry water out, though not much
accumulated.... During the week some horses in the field have not only
eaten off the tops of the privet hedge, but have torn up some dozens of
the plants by the roots, by putting their heads over the 4-foot wire
fence. I am therefore obliged in self-defence to raise the post a foot
higher and put barbed wire along the top of it. Some cows also got in
our ground one day and ate off the tops of the newly planted laurels,
which I am told they are very fond of, so I have got a chain and padlock
for our gate....
* * * * *
We moved into the new house at Broadstone at the end of November, 1902,
before it was quite finished, and here Dr. Wallace lived till the end of
his life. The garden was an endless source of interest and occupation,
being much larger than any he had had since leaving Grays.
When writing he was not easily disturbed and never showed any impatience
or annoyance at any interruption. If interrupted by a question he would
pause, pen in hand, and reply or discuss the matter and then resume his
unfinished sentence.
[Illustration: THE STUDY AT "OLD ORCHARD"]
He seemed to have the substance of his writing in his mind before he
commenced, and did not often refer to books or to notes, though he
usually had one or two books or papers on the table at hand, and
sometimes he would jump up to get a book from the shelves to verify some
fact or figure. When preparing for a new book or article he read a great
many works and papers bearing on the subject. These were marked with
notes and references on the flyleaves; and often by pencil marks to
indicate important passages, but he did not often make separate notes.
He had a wonderful memory, and stored in his mind the facts and
arguments he wished to use, or the places where they were to be found.
He borrowed many books from libraries, and from these he sometimes made
a few notes. He was not a sound sleeper, and frequently lay awake during
the night, and then it was that he thought out and planned his work. He
often told us with keen delight of some new idea or fresh argument which
had occurred to him during these waking hours.
After spending months, or sometimes years, in reading and digesting all
the literary matter he could obtain on a subject,--and forming a plan
for the treatment of it, he would commence writing, and keep on steadily
for five or six hours a day if his health permitted. He also wrote to
people all over the world to obtain the latest facts bearing on the
subject.
In 1903 he began writing "Man's Place in the Universe."
* * * * *
TO MR. W.G. WALLACE
_Old Orchard. July 8, 1903._
My dear Will,--I have just finished going over your notes and
corrections of the last four chapters. I can't think how I was so stupid
to make the mistake in figures which you corrected. In almost all cases
I have made some modification in accordance with your suggestions, and
the book will be much improved thereby. I have put in a new paragraph
about the stars in other parts than the Milky Way and Solar Cluster, but
there is really nothing known about them. I have also cut out the first
reference to Jupiter altogether. Of course a great deal is speculative,
but any reply to it is equally speculative. The question is, which
speculation is most in accordance with the known facts, and not with
prepossessions only?
Considering that the book has all been read up and written in less than
three months, it cannot be expected to be as complete and careful as if
three years had been expended on it, but then it is fresher perhaps. The
bit about the pure air came to me while writing, and I let myself go.
Why should I not try and do a little good and make people think a little
on such matters, when I have the chance of perhaps more readers than all
my other books?
As to my making too much of Man, of course that is the whole subject of
the book! And I look at it differently from you, because I know _facts_
about him you neither know nor believe _yet_. If you are once convinced
of the facts and teachings of Spiritualism, you will think more as I do.
* * * * *
The following letter refers to his little book on Mars.
TO MR. W.G. WALLACE
_Broadstone, Wimborne. September 26, 1907._
My dear Will,-- ... After elaborate revision and correction I have sent
my MS. of the little "Mars" book to Macmillans yesterday.... Will you
read the whole proofs carefully, in the character of the "intelligent
reader"? Your fresh eye will detect little slips, bad logic, too
positive statements, etc., which I may have overlooked. It will only be
about 100 or 150 pages large type--and I want it to be really good, and
free from blunders that any fool can see....
* * * * *
For some years now he had suffered from repeated attacks of asthma and
bronchitis. He had tried the usual remedies for these complaints without
any good results, and, though still able to write, had then no thought
of beginning any large work; in fact, he considered he had but a few
more years to live. When Mr. Bruce-Joy came to see him in order to model
the portrait medallion, he mentioned in the course of conversation that
he had tried the Salisbury treatment with wonderful results. Our father
was at first incredulous, but decided to try it in a modified form. He
gave up all starchy foods and ate beef only, cooked in a special manner
to render it more digestible. He found such relief from this change of
diet that from this time onwards he followed a very strict daily
routine, which he continued to the end of his life with slight
variations.
He made himself a cup of tea on a gas stove in his bedroom at 6 a.m.
(the exact quantity of tea and water having been measured the previous
evening), and boiled it in a small double saucepan for a definite time
by the watch. He always said this cup of tea tasted better than at any
other time of the day. He then returned to bed and slept till 8 a.m.
During his last two or three years he suffered from rheumatism in his
shoulder and it took him a long time to dress, and he called in the aid
of his gardener in the last year, who acted as his valet. While dressing
he prepared a cup of cocoa on the gas stove, which he carried into the
study (next door) at 9 a.m. This was all he had for breakfast, and he
took it while reading the paper or his letters.
Dinner at one o'clock was taken with his family, and he usually related
any interesting or striking news he had read in the paper, or in his
correspondence, and commented upon it, or perhaps he would tell us of
some new flower in the garden.
He drank hot water with a little Canary sack and a dash of soda-water,
to which he added a spoonful of plum jam. He was very fond of sweet
things, such as puddings, but he had to partake sparingly of them, and
it was a great temptation when some dish of which he was particularly
fond was placed upon the table.
After dinner he usually took a nap in the study before resuming work or
going into the garden.
Tea was at four o'clock, and consisted only of a cup of tea, which he
made himself in the study, unless there were visitors whom he wished to
see, when he would sometimes take it into the drawing-room and make it
there.
After tea he again wrote, or took a turn in the garden if the weather
and season permitted. Latterly he spent a good part of the afternoon and
evening reading and dozing on the sofa, and only worked at short
intervals when he felt equal to it.
Supper, at seven, was a repetition of dinner, and he took it with us in
the dining-room. After supper he generally read a novel before the fire
except in the very hottest weather, and he frequently dozed on and off
till he retired at eleven. He made himself a cup of cocoa while
preparing for bed, and drank it just before lying down.
For the last year or two it was a constant difficulty with him to secure
enough nourishment without aggravating his ailments by indigestion.
During this time he suffered continuous discomfort, though he seldom
gave utterance to complaint or allowed it to affect the uniform
equability of his temper.
* * * * *
In 1903 his daughter came to live with her parents, who generously
allowed her to take three or four children as pupils. At first we feared
they might bother our father, but he really enjoyed seeing them about
and talking to them. He was always interested in any new child, and if
for a short time none were forthcoming, always lamented the fact. At
dinner the children would ask him all sorts of questions, very amusing
ones sometimes. They were also intensely interested in what he ate, and
watched with speechless wonder when they saw him eating orange, banana,
and sugar with his meat.
One of these early pupils, Reginald B. Rathbone, has sent reminiscences
which are so characteristic that we give them as they stand:
* * * * *
"I have stayed at Dr. Wallace's house on three occasions; the first two
were when I was only about eight or nine years old, and my recollections
of him at that time are therefore necessarily somewhat dim. Certain
things, however, have stuck in my memory. I went there quite prepared to
see a very venerable and imposing-looking old gentleman, and filled in
advance with much awe and respect for him. As regards his personal
appearance I was by no mean disappointed, as his tall, slightly-stooping
figure, long white hair and beard, and his spectacles fulfilled my
highest expectations, I remember being struck with the kindly look of
his eyes, and indeed they did not belie his nature, for he always
treated me with great kindness, patience and indulgence, which is
somewhat remarkable considering my age, and how exasperating I must have
been sometimes. I soon began to regard him as a never-failing fount of
wisdom, and as one who could answer any question one liked to put to
him. Of this latter fact I was not slow to take advantage. I plied him
with every kind of question my imaginative young brain could conceive,
usually beginning with 'why.'
"He nearly always gave me an answer, and what is more, a satisfactory
one, and well within the scope of my limited understanding. These
definite, satisfactory answers of his used to afford me great pleasure,
it being quite a new experience for me to have all my questions answered
for me in this way. These answers, as I have said, were nearly always
forthcoming, though indeed, on one or two occasions, in answer to an
especially ridiculous query of mine he would answer, 'That is a very
foolish question, Reggie.' But this was very rare.
"I remember taking a great interest in what Dr. Wallace ate. He had a
hearty appetite, and was no believer in vegetarianism, for at lunch his
diet consisted chiefly of cold beef, liberally seasoned with various
sauces and relishes, also vinegar. I used to gaze at these bottles with
great admiration. Whenever there were peas he used to take large
quantities of sugar with them. This greatly aroused my curiosity, and I
questioned him about it. 'Why,' said he, 'peas themselves contain sugar;
it is, therefore, much more sensible to take sugar with them than salt.'
And he recounted an anecdote of how an eminent personage he had once
dined with had been waited on with great respect and attention by all
present, but salt was offered to him with the peas. 'If you want to make
me quite happy,' said the great man, 'you will give me some sugar with
my peas.' His favourite drink, I remember, was Canary sack.
"He had a strongly humorous side, and always enjoyed a good laugh. As
an instance of this, I will recount the following incident: When I had
returned home after my first visit to 'The Old Orchard,' my sister,
three years older than myself, and I had a heated argument on the
subject of the number of stomachs in a cow. I insisted it was three;
she, on the other hand, held that it was seven. After a long and fierce
dispute, I exclaimed: 'Well, let us write to Dr. Wallace, and he will
settle it for us and tell us the real number.' This we did, the brazen
audacity of the proceeding not striking us at the time. By return of
post we received a letter which, alas! I have unfortunately not
preserved, but the substance of which I well remember. 'Dear Irene and
Reggie,' it ran, 'Your dispute as to the number of stomachs which a cow
possesses can be settled and rectified by a simple mathematical process
usually called subtraction, thus:
Irene's Cow 7 stomachs
Reggie's Cow 3 stomachs
----------
The Farmer's cow 4 stomachs.
"Dr. Wallace then went on to explain the names and uses of the four
stomachs.
"Two instances of his fun come to my mind as I write. 'Why,' I asked,
'do you sometimes take off your spectacles to read the paper?' 'Because
I can see better without 'em,' he said. 'Then why,' I asked again, 'do
you ever wear them?' 'Because I can see better with 'em,' was the reply.
The other instance relates to chloroform. He was describing the agonies
suffered by those who had to undergo amputation before the discovery of
anæsthetics, whereas nowadays, he said, 'you are put under chloroform,
then wake up and find your arm cut off, having felt nothing. Or you wake
up and find your leg cut off. Or you wake up and find your head cut
off!' He then laughed heartily at his own joke.
"These are just a few miscellaneous reminiscences, many of them no doubt
trivial, but they may perhaps be not entirely devoid of interest, when
it is remembered that they are the impressions and recollections of one
who was then a boy of eight years old."--B.B.K.
* * * * *
The year 1908 was very auspicious to Dr. Wallace. To begin with, it was
the fiftieth anniversary of the reading of the Darwin and Wallace joint
papers on the Origin of Species before the Linnean Society, an event
which was commemorated in the way described elsewhere.
In the autumn, and just as he was beginning to recover from a spell of
bad health, he was invited to give a lecture at the Royal Institution,
the prospect of which seemed to have upon him a most stimulating effect;
he at once began to think about a suitable subject.
Following closely on this came the news that the Order of Merit was to
be conferred upon him. His letters to his son give the details of this
eventful period:[45]
* * * * *
TO MR. W.G. WALLACE
_Old Orchard, Broadstone, Wimborne. October_ 28, 1908.
My dear Will,-- ... I have a rather surprising bit of news for you. When
I was almost at my worst, feeling very bad, I had a letter inviting me
to give an evening lecture at the Royal Institution, for their Jubilee
of the "Origin of Species"! Of course I decided at once to decline as
impossible, etc., having nothing new to say, etc. But a few hours
afterwards an idea suddenly came to me for a very fine lecture, if I can
work it out as I hope--and the more I thought over it the better it
seemed. So, two days back, I wrote to Sir W. Crookes--the Honorary
Secretary, who had written to me--accepting provisionally!... Here is
another "crowning honour"--the most unexpected of all!...
* * * * *
TO MR. W.G. WALLACE
_Old Orchard, Broadstone, Wimborne. December 2, 1908._
My dear Will,-- ... This morning the Copley Medals came, gold and
silver, smaller than any of the others, but very beautifully designed;
the face has the Royal Society's arms, with Copley's name, and
"Dignissimo," and my name below. The reverse is the Royal Arms. By the
same post came a letter from the Lord Chancellor's Office informing me,
to my great relief, that the King had been graciously pleased to
dispense with my personal attendance at the investiture of the Order of
Merit, ...
* * * * *
TO MR. W.G. WALLACE
_Old Orchard, Broadstone, Wimborne. December 17, 1908._
My dear Will,--The ceremony is over, very comfortably. I am duly
"invested," and have got two engrossed documents, both signed by the
King, one appointing me a member of the "Order of Merit" with all sorts
of official and legal phrases, the other a dispensation from being
personally "invested" by the King--as Col. Legge explained, to safeguard
me as having a right to the Order in case anybody says I was not
"invested." ... Colonel Legge was a very pleasant, jolly kind of man,
and he told us he was in attendance on the German Emperor when he was
staying near Christchurch last summer, and went for many drives with the
Emperor only, all about the country.... Col. Legge got here at 2.40, and
had to leave at 3.20 (at station), so we got a carriage from Wimborne to
meet the train and take him back, and Ma gave him some tea, and he said
he had got a nice little place at Stoke Poges but with no view like
ours, and he showed me how to wear the Order and was very pleasant: and
we were all pleased....
The next letter refers to the discovery of a rare moth and some beetles
in the root of an orchid. It was certainly a strange yet pleasant
coincidence that these creatures should find themselves in Dr. Wallace's
greenhouse, where alone they would be noticed and appreciated as
something uncommon.
* * * * *
TO MR. W.G. WALLACE
_Old Orchard, Broadstone, Wimborne. February 23, 1909._
My dear Will,-- ... In my last letter I did not say anything about my
morning at the Nat. Hist. Museum.... What I enjoyed most was seeing some
splendid New Guinea butterflies which Mr. Rothschild[46] and his
curator, Mr. Jordan, brought up from Tring on purpose to show me. I
could hardly have imagined anything so splendid as some of these. I also
saw some of the new paradise birds in the British Museum. But Mr.
Rothschild says they have five times as many at Tring, and much finer
specimens, and he invited me to spend a week-end at Tring and see the
Museum. So I may go, perhaps--in the summer.
But I have a curious thing to tell you about insect collecting at "Old
Orchard." About five months back I was examining one of the clumps of an
orchid in the glass case--which had been sent me from Buenos Ayres by
Mr. John Hall--when three pretty little beetles dropped out of it, on
the edge of the tank, and I only managed to catch two of them. They were
pretty little Longicornes, about an inch long, but very slender and
graceful, though only of a yellowish-brown colour. I sent them up to the
British Museum asking the name, and telling them they could keep them if
of any use. They told me they were a species of the large South American
genus Ibidion, but they had not got it in the collection!
On the Sunday before Christmas Day I was taking my evening inspection
of the orchids, etc., in the glass case when a largish insect flew by my
face, and when it settled it looked like a handsome moth or butterfly.
It was brilliant orange on the lower wings, the upper being shaded
orange brown, very moth-like, but the antennæ were clubbed like a
butterfly's. At first I thought it was a butterfly that mimicked a moth,
but I had never seen anything like it before.
Next morning I got a glass jar half filled with bruised laurel leaves,
and Ma got it in, and after a day or two I set it, clumsily, and meant
to take it to London, but had no small box to put it in. I told Mr.
Rothschild about it, and he said it sounded like a Castnia--curious
South American moths very near to butterflies. So he got out the drawer
with them, but mine was not there; then he got another drawer
half-empty, and there it was--only a coloured drawing, but exactly like.
It had been described, but neither the Museum nor Mr. Rothschild had got
it! I had had the orchids nearly a year and a half, so it must have
been, in the chrysalis all that time and longer, which Mr. Rothschild
said was the case with the Castnias. On going home I searched, and found
the brown chrysalis-case it had come out of among the roots of the same
orchid the little Longicornes had dropped from. It is, I am pretty sure,
a Brazilian species, and I have written to ask Mr. Hall if he knows
where it came from. I have sent the moth and chrysalis to Prof. Poulton
(I had promised it to him at the lecture) for the Oxford collection, and
he is greatly pleased with it; and especially with its history--one
quite small bit of an orchid, after more than a year in a greenhouse,
producing a rare or new beetle and an equally rare moth!...
I am glad to say I feel really better than any time the last ten
years.--A.R.W.
* * * * *
The Rev. O. Pickard-Cambridge has kindly written his reminiscence of
another very curious coincidence connected with a natural history
object.
"Some years ago, on looking over some insect drawers in my collection,
Mr. A.R. Wallace exclaimed, 'Why, there is my old Sarawak spider!'
'Well! that is curious,' I replied, 'because that spider has caused me
much trouble and thought as to who might have caught it, and where; I
had only lately decided to describe and figure it, even though I could
give the name of neither locality nor finder, being, as it seemed to me,
of a genus and species not as yet recorded; also I had, as you see,
provisionally conferred your name upon it, although I had not the
remotest idea that it had anything else to do with you.' 'Well,' said
Mr. Wallace, 'if it is my old spider it ought to have my own private
ticket on the pin underneath.' 'It has a ticket,' I replied, 'but it is
unintelligible to me; the spider came to me among some other items by
purchase at the sale of Mr. Wilson Saunders' collections.' 'If it is
mine,' said Wallace (examining it), 'the ticket should be so-and-so. And
it is! I caught this spider at Sarawak, and specially noted its
remarkable form. I remember it as if it were yesterday, and now I find
it here, and you about to publish it as a new genus and species to
which, in total ignorance of whence it came or who caught it, you have
given my name!' Thus it stands, and '_Friula Wallacii_, Camb. (family
Gasteracanthidæ), taken by Alfred Russel Wallace at Sarawak,' is the
(unique as I believe) type specimen, in my collection."--O.P.C.
* * * * *
Dr. Wallace was very fond of reading good novels, and usually spent an
hour or two, before retiring to bed, with what he called a "good
domestic story." One of his favourite authors was Marion Crawford.
Poetry appealed to him very strongly, and he had a good memory for his
favourite verses, especially for those he had learned in his youth.
Amongst his books were over fifty volumes of poetry.
He liked to see friends or interesting visitors, but he was rather
nervous with strangers until he became interested in what they had to
say. He enjoyed witty conversation, and especially a good story well
told. No one laughed more heartily than he when he was much amused, and
he would slap his hands upon his knees with delight.
He was very accessible to anyone who might have something to say worth
hearing, and he had a great many visitors, especially during the last
ten years of his life. Many people distinguished in science, literature,
or politics called upon him, and he always enjoyed these visits, and the
excitement of them seemed to have no bad effect upon him, even in the
last year, when we sometimes feared he might be fatigued by them. In
consequence of his sympathy with many heterodox ideas he frequently had
visits from "cranks" who wished to secure his support for some new
theory or "discovery." He would listen patiently, perhaps ask a few
questions, and then endeavour to point out their fallacies. He would
amuse us afterwards by describing their "preposterous ideas," and if
much bored, he would speak of them as "muffs." He was loath to hurt
their feelings, but he generally ended by expressing his opinion quite
clearly, occasionally to their discomfiture.
* * * * *
Dr. Littledale has contributed some reminiscences which may be
introduced here.
"When I first met Dr. Wallace the conversation turned on the types of
visitors that came to see him, and he gave us an amusing account of two
young women who called on him to read through a most ponderous treatise
relating to the Universe (I think it was). At all events the treatise
proved, amongst other things, that Kepler's laws were all wrong. Dr.
Wallace was very busy at the time, and politely declined to undertake
the task. I remember him well describing with his hands the size of this
enormous manuscript and laughing heartily as he detailed how the writer
of the manuscript, the elder of the two sisters, persistently tried to
persuade him that her theories were all absolutely proved in the work,
while the younger sister acted as a sort of echo to her sister. The
climax came in a fit of weeping, and, as Dr. Wallace described it, the
whole fabric of the universe was washed away in a flood of tears.
"On one occasion, when I was asked by Mrs. Wallace to see Dr. Wallace
professionally, he was lying on the sofa in his study by the fire
wrapped up in rugs, having just got over a bad shivering attack or
rigor. His temperature was 104° Fahr., and all the other usual signs of
acute fever were present, but nothing to enable one to form a positive
opinion as to the cause. It must have been forty years since he had been
in the tropics, but I think he felt that it was an attack of malarial
fever. Knowing my patient, my treatment consisted in asking what he was
going to do for himself. 'Well,' he said, 'I am going to have a hot bath
and then go to bed, and to-morrow I shall get up and go into the garden
as usual.' And he was out in the garden next day when I went to see him.
This was an instance, doubtless one of many, of the 'will to live,'
which carried him through a long life.
"Once, when he was talking about the gaps in the evolution of life, viz.
between the inorganic and organic, between vegetable and animal, and
between animal and man, I asked, 'Why postulate a beginning at all? We
are satisfied with illimitability at one end, why not at the other?'
'For the simple reason,' he said, 'that the mind cannot comprehend
anything that has never had a beginning.'
"What attracted me to him most, I think, was his remarkable simplicity
of language, whatever the topic of conversation might be, and this not
the simplicity of the great mind bringing itself down to the level of
the ordinary individual, but his customary mode of expression. I have
heard him say that he felt the need of the fluency of speech which
Huxley possessed, as he had to cast about for the expression that he
wanted. This may have been the case when he was lecturing, but I
certainly never noticed it in conversation."--H.E.L.
* * * * *
Dr. Wallace was always interested in young men and others who were going
abroad with the intention of studying Natural History, and gave them
what advice and help he could. He much enjoyed listening to the
accounts given by travellers of the scenes, animals and plants and
native life they had seen, and deplored the so-called civilising of the
natives, which, in his opinion, generally meant their exploitation by
Europeans, leading to their deterioration and extermination.
His nervousness with strangers sometimes led them to form quite
erroneous impressions. It occasionally found expression in a nervous
laugh which had nothing to do with amusement or humour, but was often
heard when he was most serious and felt most deeply. One or two
interviewers described it as a "chuckle," an expression which suggested
feelings most opposite to those which he really experienced.
Although he could draw and sketch well, he did not take much pleasure in
it, and only exercised his skill when there was a definite object in
view. His sketches show a very delicate touch, and denote painstaking
accuracy, while some are quite artistic. He much preferred drawing with
compasses and squares, there being a practical object in his mind for
which the plans or drawings were only the first steps. Even in his
ninety-first year he found much enjoyment in drawing plans, and spent
many hours in designing alterations to a small cottage which his
daughter had bought.
He was interested in literary puzzles and humorous stories, and he
preserved in an old scrap-book any that appealed to him. He would
sometimes read some of them on festive occasions, or when we had
children's parties, and sometimes he laughed so heartily himself that he
could not go on reading.
In reviewing the years during which Dr. Wallace lived at Broadstone, the
last decade, when he was between eighty and ninety years of age, this
period seems to have been one of the most eventful, and as full of work
and mental activity as any previous period. He never tired of his
garden, in which he succeeded in growing a number of rare and curious
shrubs and plants. Our mother shared his delight and interest in the
garden, and knew a great deal about flowers. She had an excellent memory
for their botanical names, and he often asked her the name of some
plant which he was pointing out to a friend and which for the moment he
had forgotten. She was very fond of roses and of primroses, and there
was a fine display of these flowers at "Old Orchard." She was successful
in "budding" and in hybridising roses, and produced several beautiful
varieties. She was proficient in raising seeds, and he sometimes placed
some which he received from abroad in her charge.
When he first came to live at Broadstone he frequently took short walks
to the post or to the bank, and sometimes went by train to Poole on
business, but he gradually went out less and less, till in the last few
years he seldom went outside the garden, but strolled about looking at
the flowers or supervising the construction of a new bed or rockery.
During his last years his gardener wheeled him about the garden in a
bath-chair when he did not feel strong enough to walk all the time.
In 1913, after his last two small books were written, he did no more
writing except correspondence. This he attended to himself, except on
one or two occasions when he was not very well or felt tired, when he
asked one of us to answer a few letters for him. He took great interest
in a small cottage which had recently been acquired on the Purbeck Hills
near the sea, and in September, much against our wishes, he went there
for two nights, taking the gardener to look after him. Luckily the
weather was fine, and the change and excitement seemed to do him good,
and during the next month he was very bright and cheerful, though, as
some of his letters to his old friend Dr. Richard Norris and to Dr.
Littledale show, he had been becoming increasingly weak.
* * * * *
TO MISS NORRIS
_Old Orchard, Broadstone, Dorset. December 10, 1912._
My dear Miss Norris,--I am very sorry to hear that your father is so
poorly. The weather is terribly gloomy, and I have not been outside my
rooms and greenhouse for more than an hour a week perhaps, for the last
two months, and feel the better for it. Just now I feel better than I
have done for a year past, having at last, I think, hit upon a proper
diet, though I find it very difficult to avoid eating or drinking too
much of what I like best.... It is one of my fads that I hate to waste
anything, and it is that partly which makes it so difficult for me to
avoid overeating. From a boy I was taught to leave no scraps on my
plate, and from this excellent general rule of conduct I now suffer in
my old age!...--Yours very sincerely,
ALFRED R. WALLACE.
* * * * *
TO DR. LITTLEDALE
_Old Orchard, Broadstone, Dorset. January 11, 1913._
Dear Dr. Littledale,--Many thanks for your kind congratulations and good
wishes.[47] I am glad to say I feel still able to jog on a few years
longer in this _very good_ world--for those who can make the best of it.
I am now suffering most from "eczema," which has settled in my legs, so
that I cannot stand or walk for any length of time. Perhaps that is an
outlet for something worse, as I still enjoy my meals, and usually feel
as well as ever, though I have to be very careful as to _what_ I
eat.--With best wishes for your prosperity, yours very truly,
ALFRED R. WALLACE.
* * * * *
TO DR. NORRIS
_Old Orchard, Broadstone, Dorset. October 4, 1913._
My dear Dr. Norris,--Except for a continuous weakness I seem improving a
little in general health, and the chronic rheumatic pain in my right
shoulder has almost passed away in the last month (after about three
years), and I can impute it to nothing but about a quarter of a pint a
day of Bulmer's Cider! A most agreeable medicine! The irritability of
the skin, however, continues, though the inflammation of the legs has
somewhat diminished....
My increasing weakness is now my most serious trouble, as it prevents me
really from doing any more work, and causes a large want of balance, and
liability to fall down. Even moving about the room after books, etc.,
dressing and undressing, make me want to lie down and rest....
With kind remembrances to your daughter, believe me yours very
sincerely,
ALFRED R. WALLACE.
* * * * *
In disposition Dr. Wallace was cheerful, and very optimistic, and
remarkably even-tempered. If irritated he quickly recovered, and soon
forgot all about the annoyance, but he was always strongly indignant at
any injustice to the weak or helpless. When worried by business
difficulties or losses he very soon recovered his optimism, and seemed
quite confident that all would come right (as indeed it generally did),
and latterly he became convinced that all his past troubles were really
blessings in disguise, without which as a stimulant he would have done
no useful work.
His life was a happy one, and even the discomforts caused by his
ailments, which were at times very acute for days together, never
prevented him from enjoying the contemplation of his flowers, nor
disturbed the serenity of his temper, nor caused him to complain.
Although rather delicate all his life, he rarely stayed in bed; in fact,
only once in our memory, during an illness at Parkstone, did he do so,
and then only for one day.
On Saturday, November 1st (1913), he walked round the garden, and on the
following day seemed very bright, and enjoyed his dinner and supper, but
about nine o'clock he felt faint and shivered violently. We called in
Dr. Norman, who came in about an hour, and we heard them having a long
talk and even laughing, in the study. As the doctor left he said,
"Wonderful man! he knows so much. I can do nothing for him."
The next day he did not get up at the usual time, but we felt no anxiety
until noon, when he still showed no inclination to rise. He appeared to
be dozing, and said he wanted nothing. From that time he gradually sank
into semi-consciousness, and at half-past nine in the morning of Friday,
November 7th, quietly passed on to that other life in which he was such
a firm believer.