Seth Mosley and Natural History

Jim (I never knew his second name) was the Warden of Moor House Field Station during my time there [1] and his duties were to look after the buildings of the Station and to assist in the running of the place. He also supported the research on grouse that was being conducted by a team of researchers using a wonderful black Labrador called Heather, that I loved. When I chatted to Jim, it was clear that he had first-hand, and expert, knowledge of dippers (Cinclus cinclus), but the only people to know about this were those that engaged him in conversation - there were no written records (of which I was aware). It led me to think about the wealth of information held by amateur natural historians and how this knowledge could be made available for a wider audience in the 2020s [2].

I don’t know what sparked Jim’s interest in natural history, but he was proud of being from the area of the Pennines around Moor House and I would imagine that his observations on dippers, and much other wildlife, stemmed from his early years. Perhaps from a parent, or a teacher, or from something that he read, or saw in museums? Fortunately, we know about the background, and interests, of one “working-class naturalist” – Seth Lister Mosley – from an excellent biography by Alan Brooke, a historian and activist from the same part of Yorkshire as Seth [3]. Unlike Jim, Seth influenced a wide audience although, until the publication of Alan Brooke’s book, his work was not well known to contemporary natural historians.

Nature’s Missionary [4] (see above) describes how Seth first became interested in natural history and how his interest developed into museum curation, a newspaper column, ideas on education, and in showing how humans need to be at one with the rest of the natural world. At first, he supported himself and his young family by working as a painter and decorator, but then natural history took over, as he branched out into collecting, illustrating, curating and writing. Seth acknowledged that his interest in plants and animals was nurtured by his father, James Mosley, who was a convicted poacher and an expert with guns, shooting birds that were subsequently stuffed and placed in cases [4]. He was an independent spirit and a secularist, while Seth’s mother was also a secularist, with a good knowledge of plants.

James made a living as a taxidermist at a time when many people, of all social classes, delighted in having display cases of birds – and also of butterflies and moths. It is not known whether he used Charles Waterton’s method of preserving bird skins [5], but mention of arsenic as a curing agent in Nature’s Missionary, together with the use of the term “stuffing”, suggests a more traditional approach. Although the various museums that Seth curated contained many cabinets of birds and insects, he was also keen to rear insects and became expert in identifying various pest species. In time, Seth turned away from the practice of preparing cases of exhibits and was a strong advocate of studying wildlife in its natural habitat, making drawings and notes of what he saw, and that practice formed the basis of a regular newspaper column that made Seth well known, both locally and to a wider readership. “He was always pleased when he was acknowledged by strangers or interest was expressed in his column”. [4]

Seth organised rambles for groups to various places around Huddersfield and he also enjoyed solitary walks. Alan Brooke [4] quotes Seth on the importance to him of this activity: 

I never walk into the country on a bright, sunny day, especially when I am alone and therefore have the opportunity to think as I walk along, but I become filled with happiness that I am anxious to get back to put my thought down on paper..

It’s a feeling that many of us have in walking alone in the countryside and, in this, there is a parallel between Seth and Rousseau [6], although there is no knowing whether Seth was familiar with Rousseau’s writings about walking in Nature or about education, another passion that occupied Seth. He believed that we are all part of Nature and that we must recognise this – a sentiment that is even more important today than it was then, when increasing industrialisation was beginning to have such an adverse effect on the environment. His ideas on conservation mirror those of Charles Waterton of the Walton Hall estate near Wakefield, a short distance from Huddersfield [7]. As Seth said in a quote in Alan Brooke’s book [4]: 

The secret of a happy life is to find out what there is in Nature and make ourselves partners in the concern.

His deep knowledge of the natural world was also important in Seth’s religious development, as he left the secular views of his younger days and became a Methodist, believing that all that he saw reflected God. He was not a literal creationist, but a firm supporter of evolutionary theory and he disliked “the narrow interpretation which the materialistic scientists on the one hand, and narrow minded religionists on the other put upon the Bible account, each refusing to see the question from the other’s point of view.” [4] Quite what he felt about Henry Gosse and his strict adherence to the account in Genesis [8] can be imagined, although he would surely have admired Gosse as a natural historian.

Seth’s religious and mystical views are difficult to pin down but, in addition to conducting Christian Nature Study Mission rambles, he preached in local churches whenever asked and he also brought religious thinking into his newspaper column (he was warned not to bring his missionary work into his job as a museum curator). It is difficult for those with strong religious views to stop themselves from proselytising, but it is easy to forgive this trait in Seth, just as one can with Henry Gosse. Even if the two natural historians would disagree on fundamentals, there is no doubting the importance of religious views to each and their shared wonder of the natural world that shone through in all that they did. 

I’ve no idea what Jim’s religious views were, but that is not important to me as he loved Nature, just like Seth and Henry. We need heroes like these.

[1] https://rwotton.blogspot.com/2018/04/tempus-fugit.html 

[2] https://rwotton.blogspot.com/2021/11/outsiders-and-world-of-scientific.html

[3] https://undergroundhistories.wordpress.com/

[4] Alan Brooke (2022) Nature’s Missionary. Huddersfield, Huddersfield Local History Society

[5] https://rwotton.blogspot.com/2013/12/charles-waterton-taxidermy-and.html

[6] Jean-Jacques Rousseau (2011 [in translation by Russell Goulbourne]) Reveries of the Solitary Walker. Oxford, Oxford University Press

[7] Brian Edginton (1996) Charles Waterton: A Biography. Cambridge, The Lutterworth Press.

[8] Roger S Wotton (2020) Walking with Gosse: Natural History and Religious Conflicts. e-book.

 

I would like to thank Alan Brooke for making me aware of Seth Mosley and the excellent book that tells the in-depth story of a remarkable man.

 

 

"Walking with Gosse" as an e-book

 

The COVID-19 pandemic influences everything at present. When the lockdown was announced in the UK, I decided that I needed something to occupy my time, so pressed ahead with a re-write of Walking with Gosse, first published as a paperback in 2012.

Since 2012, I have continued my interest in the story of Henry and Edmund Gosse, so there was a chance to make a revision, and update, of the book and, as the paperback was rather difficult to get hold of, I decided that an e-book was the best way forward. I knew nothing about e-book publishing before setting out, other than that it was a means of making books easily accessible on mobile telephones, tablets and desktop computers, so I needed advice. This came from Dr Bob Carling, who has wide experience in publishing, and he took me through the stages needed to transform my MSWord files into the form acceptable to Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other e-book publishers. As I am a technophobe, it would not have been possible to publish this new version of Walking with Gosse without Bob’s help and technical expertise, just as I could not have published the paperback without the help of Dr Susan England of Clio Publishing.

One of the advantages of an e-book is that it allows a “clickable” list of contents to allow readers to navigate through the text, although I very much hope that the book is read from cover to cover, as that was the way it was conceived. It is part autobiographical (Part 1), part biographical (Parts 2-5), and part commentary on our current approach to natural history, creation and religious conflicts (Part 6).

The list of contents of Walking with Gosse is given below (as an appetiser):

 

List of contents

 

Preface

Part 1

 Growing up at the seaside

 Being a Christian

Schools, parents, and an interest in natural history

 Leaving home for University

 

Part 2

 Henry Gosse, The Aquarium and looking through microscopes

Henry Gosse’s early life and the development of his interest in natural history

Henry Gosse becomes a professional natural historian and writer

The development of Henry Gosse’s religious beliefs

 

Henry Gosse’s own family

 

Henry Gosse as a teacher, lecturer and leader of field courses

 

Recognition as a scientist

 

Part 3

Omphalos

 Reactions to Omphalos and Henry’s need to incorporate his religious views into his writing

 

The Romance of Natural History

 Sea serpents

Extinction, animals that fall from the sky, and mermaids

 

Part 4

 

Father and Son

 

Early life in London

 

Moving to St Marychurch

 

Edmund becomes a Saint

 

Edmund’s baptism and the move to a new chapel

 

Tom Cringle’s Log, meeting Eliza, and the beginnings of independence

Edmund’s Epilogue in Father and Son

 

Part 5

 

Learning more about Edmund

 

Eliza Gosse’s view of Henry

 

William Pengelly – a deeply religious man who believed in “creation by evolution”

Henry Gosse and Charles Kingsley

 

A feeling of connection to Henry and Edmund

 

Part 6

 Henry Gosse and or contemporary world

 Henry Gosse and the negativity of religious faith

 Creation, evolution and the origin of life

 When believing in creation seems like an easy option 

Tackling the supernatural 

Dr Dryasdust and contemporary trends in Biology

 Being interested in teaching and lecturing

 Natural history and the media

 Epilogue

 

References

Acknowledgements

 

Appendix 1

 Henry’s scientific publications

 

Appendix 2

 Henry’s solely religious writing

 

A series of posts about Walking with Gosse will appear on my blog over the next few months. They will highlight some of the sections of the book and give what scriptwriters might call the backstory. In the meantime, I hope that you enjoy the book.

 

Charles Kingsley and Henry Gosse go dredging in Torbay

During the Nineteenth Century explosion of interest in the Natural History of shores, there was also much to discover about animal life in shallow coastal waters and this tempted naturalists like Edward Forbes to use dredges to bring animals to the surface, where they could be examined more closely.

In his biography of his father, Edmund Gosse describes a dredging trip that Philip Henry Gosse made with his good friend Charles Kingsley in Torbay. Although Kingsley is best known as the author of The Water Babies, Hereward the Wake and Westward Ho!, like many other Victorians he had a passion for Natural History and wrote Glaucus to summarise his knowledge and to inspire others [1]. The book contains many glowing references to Henry Gosse, and Kingsley was clearly a great admirer. This is what Edmund wrote [2]:

Charles Kingsley was several times our companion. The naturalists would hire a small trawler, and work up and down, generally in the southern part of the bay, just outside a line drawn north and south, between Hope’s Nose and Berry Head. I think that Kingsley was a good sailor; my father was a very indifferent one, and so was I; but when the trawl came up, and the multitudinous population of the bottom of the bay was tossed in confusion before our eyes, we forgot our qualms in our excitement. I still see the hawk’s eyes of Kingsley peering into the trawl on one side, my father’s wide face and long set mouth bent upon the other. I well recollect the occasion (my father’s diary gives me the date, August 11, 1858) when, in about 20 fathoms outside Berry Head, we hauled up the first specimen ever observed of that exquisite creature, the diadem anemone, Bunodes coronata; its orange-scarlet body clasping the whorls of a living Turritella shell, while it held in the air its purple parapet crowned with snow-white spiky tentacles.

Was this the specimen that Henry used in making the illustration for his important work Actinologia Britannica (shown below)? This is how Henry describes his discovery of these sea anemones (since re-named Hormathia coronata [3]) [4]:

This fine species first occurred to myself when dredging off Berry Head [seen in the far distance in the photograph below], in about 20 fathoms, in August 1858. Three or four specimens came up in about the same number of hauls. In every case the animal was adherent to the shell of the living Turritella terebra, a mollusk which is so abundant there that the dredge comes up half filled with it. The base of the Bunodes clasps the long turreted shell, nearly enveloping it when adult, only the apex and the mouth of the shell being exposed.

It is not unusual for sea anemones of some species to associate with the shells of living snails and the relationship appears to be mutualistic – the anemone being moved around and the mollusc gaining protection. No doubt, Charles and Henry were thrilled not only with the capture of Bunodes, but with the abundance of Turritella.

Perhaps you don’t have the same level of enthusiasm for sea anemones and snails, but can appreciate the enthusiasm of others at a time when there were many discoveries to be made? Although not a good sailor, Henry made trips by boat because he was very curious about all marine creatures not just those of the shore, which was his usual haunt and where he collected many specimens to be returned to his aquarium tanks in Sandhurst, his home in St Marychurch, Torquay. Edmund describes his appearance when out collecting [2] and I used this quote in an earlier blog post, in which I contrasted the decorum, and modesty of dress, required by women collectors [5]:

Even as a little child I was conscious that my father’s appearance on these excursions was eccentric. He had a penchant for an enormous felt hat, which had once been black, but was now grey and rusty with age and salt. For some reason or other, he seldom could be persuaded to wear clothes of such a light colour and material as other sportsmen affect. Black broadcloth, reduced to an extreme seediness, and cut in ancient forms, was the favourite attire for the shore, and after being soaked many times, and dried in the sun on his somewhat portly person, it grew to look as if it might have been bequeathed to him by some ancient missionary long marooned, with no other garments, upon a coral island. His ample boots, reaching to mid-thigh, completed his professional garb, and when he was seen, in full sunlight, skimming the rising tide upon the sands, he might have been easily mistaken for a superannuated working shrimper.

What a lovely description – and how nice to have it to complement the image of formal photographs (see below, for example). I can easily visualise Henry busying himself around the coast, completely absorbed in his work and caring little about appearances. Maybe that’s why he is a hero of mine, just as he was for Charles Kingsley?

[1] http://www.rwotton.blogspot.com/2016/05/charles-kingsley-creation-and-evolution.html

[2] Edmund Gosse (1896) The Naturalist of the Sea-shore: The Life of Philip Henry Gosse. London, William Heinemann.

[3] https://www.marlin.ac.uk/species/detail/1826

[4] Philip Henry Gosse (1860) Actinologia Britannica: A history of the British sea-anemones and madrepores. London, John Van Voorst.

[5] http://www.rwotton.blogspot.com/2014/01/what-to-wear-on-shore.html

What to wear on the shore

Many of us have enjoyed looking at algae and animals in rock pools during visits to the seaside. That is especially true for families with young children, happy to see the organisms in their natural surroundings, rather than as video clips or in TV programmes.

In the Nineteenth Century, the “craze” for Marine Biology drew many adults to the coast, both to examine algae and animals in situ and also to collect organisms for their aquarium tanks. Then, parlour aquaria were a relatively common feature in middle class homes and these allowed close observation, something that was not always possible on the shore, as many features only became apparent once individuals were under water.

A striking difference between the contemporary and the Nineteenth Century collector was in the way each dressed. Now, we wear shorts, jeans and T-shirts during summer visits to rock pools, perhaps with flip-flops to provide protection for the feet from sharp coatings of barnacles, or to reduce the chance of slipping on slimy seaweeds. If we wish to wade in pools we may wear boots and, in deeper water, thigh waders or chest waders. Then we have the option of looking underwater using snorkelling or SCUBA diving, perhaps with a wet suit for protection. All this would have been alien to those involved with the “craze” when it was at its height in the second half of the Nineteenth Century. At that time, collections in deep water were made by trawling, or dredging, from small boats, so there was no chance of making in situ observations. It was also a matter of luck as to what appeared when the net, or dredge, was emptied on board.

Whether collecting from boats, or on the shore, men wore everyday outdoor clothing, but obviously not the newest, and soakings were a common feature. Henry Gosse, whose books did much to encourage the “craze”, was certainly adventurous as his son, Edmund, describes:

The way in which my father worked, in his most desperate escapades, was to wade breast-high into one of the huge pools, and examine the worm-eaten surface of the rock above and below the brim.. ..My Father would search for the roughest and most corroded points of rock, those offering the best refuge for a variety of creatures, and would then chisel off fragments as low down in the water as he could. These pieces of rock were instantly plunged in the salt water of jars which we had brought for the purpose. When as much had been collected as we could carry away - my Father always dragged about an immense square basket, the creak of whose handles I can still fancy that I hear - we turned to trudge up the long climb home. ¹

Collecting was not a casual pastime for Henry, but a mission to find out as much as possible about the organisms of the shore. His industry was most impressive, especially when compared to the more passive approach of today. As to his selection of clothes, Edmund writes:

Even as a little child I was conscious that my father’s appearance on these excursions [collecting trips] was eccentric. He had a penchant for an enormous felt hat, which had once been black, but was now grey and rusty with age and salt. For some reason or other, he seldom could be persuaded to wear clothes of such a light colour and material as other sportsmen affect. Black broadcloth, reduced to an extreme seediness, and cut in ancient forms, was the favourite attire for the shore, and after being soaked many times, and dried in the sun on his somewhat portly person, it grew to look as if it might have been bequeathed to him by some ancient missionary long marooned, with no other garments, upon a coral island. His ample boots, reaching to mid-thigh, completed his profession garb, and when he was seen, in full sunlight, skimming the rising tide upon the sands, he might have been easily mistaken for a superannuated working shrimper. ²

So, a good covering of clothes, but with accumulated grime (also typically seen in pictures of working men of the time). Nevertheless, this scruffy costume allowed a great deal of freedom of movement and permitted excursions into pools and into the shallow sea. Clearly, there were more challenges for women collectors, especially with Victorian decorum demanding that most of the body was covered in a long-sleeved and long-skirted dress (an example of a mid-Century outdoor dress is shown below).

Although women made notable contributions to the development of Marine Biology in the Nineteenth Century, their clothing had to conform to the sensibilities of the time and they could not be as adventurous as Henry Gosse in plunging into pools. However, there was a shared need to clamber over rocks and sand and one of the leading authorities on seaweeds, Margaret Gatty, the wife of a vicar, gives the following advice:

About this shore-hunting, however, as regards my own sex (so many of whom, I know, are interested in the pursuit), many difficulties are apt to arise; among the foremost of which must be mentioned the risk of cold and destruction of clothes. The best pair of single-soled kid Balmoral boots that ever were made will not stand salt water many days - indeed would scarcely “come on” after being thoroughly wetted two or three times in succession - and the sea-weed collector who has to pick her way to save her boots will never be a loving disciple as long as she lives! Any one, therefore, really intending to work in the matter, must lay aside for a time all thought of conventional appearances, and be content to support the weight of a pair of boy’s shooting boots, which, furthermore, should be rendered as far water-proof as possible by receiving a thin coat of neat’s foot oil, such as is used by fishermen.. ..Next to boots comes the question of petticoats; and if anything could excuse a woman for imitating the costume of a man, it would be what she suffers as a sea-weed collector from those necessary draperies! But to make the best of a bad matter, let woollen be in the ascendant as much as possible; and let the petticoats never come below the ankle. A ladies’ yatching [sic] costume has come into fashion of late, which is, perhaps, as near perfection for shore-work as anything that could be devised. It is a suit consisting of a full short skirt of blue flannel or serge (like very fine bathing-gown material), with waistcoat and jacket to match [see ³ for an example]. Cloaks and shawls, which necessarily hamper the arms, besides having long ends and corners which cannot fail to get soaked, are, of course, very inconvenient, and should be as much avoided as possible.. ..In conclusion, a hat is preferable to a bonnet, merino stockings to cotton ones, and a strong pair of gloves is indispensible. All millinery work - silks, satins, lace, bracelets, and other jewellery, &c. must, and will, be laid aside by every rational being who attempts to shore-hunt. ⁴

Nineteenth Century women thus needed to overcome the restrictions provided by the dress mores of the day. It was easier for men, but followers of the “craze” of both sexes showed an application and enthusiasm for discovery that is unusual today, except perhaps in young children. However, the attention span and stamina of children means they are unlikely to spend hours each day on collecting, followed by hours more observation and research once the catch is returned home. That was the norm for the adult enthusiasts of Marine Biology in Victorian times.

¹ Edmund Gosse (1907) Father and Son. London, William Heinemann.

² Edmund Gosse (1896) The Naturalist of the Sea-Shore: The Life of Philip Henry Gosse. London, William Heinemann.

³ This is an example of a boating costume contemporary with Margaret Gatty’s description from ⁴ below: http://www.vam.ac.uk/content/articles/i/interactive-womans-boating-outfit-about-1872/

⁴ Mrs Alfred Gatty (1872) British Sea-Weeds drawn from Professor Harvey’s “Phycologia Britannica”; with descriptions, an amateur’s synopsis, rules for laying out sea-weeds, an order for arranging them in the herbarium, and an Appendix of new species. London, Bell and Daldy.

Connections: Henry Gosse, Charles Waterton and the Peales of Philadelphia

Henry Gosse, having given up the idea of farming in Canada, decided to travel south, writing: “My eye is set towards Georgia or South Carolina, as I understand persons of education are in demand there, both in mercantile and academical situations.” ¹ By 26th March 1838, Henry had reached Philadelphia:

It was in Philadelphia that he first enjoyed the sympathy and help of genuine men of science. At the museum in Chestnut Street, he met Mr Titian R. Peale, a local zoological artist of considerable eminence, who charmed him at once, and surprised him by his deferential civility and his instinctive recognition of this grim-featured, unknown youth [Henry was weeks away from his 28th birthday] as one destined to be “somebody”. Mr Peale was just then starting as the artist of an exploring exhibition to the South Seas, under Lieutenant Charles Wilkes, and he was particularly interested in the exquisite drawings of insects which Philip [Henry] Gosse had brought from Canada. ¹

Titian Peale was ten years older than Henry and he was the youngest son of Charles Willson Peale, the founder of the original Peale Museum. Titian inherited his father’s love of both Natural History and painting and his passion was for butterflies and moths, thus his interest in Henry’s drawings (Titian's collection of Lepidoptera was subsequently donated to the Academy of Natural Sciences and can be seen today). ² During the conversations between Henry and Titian about Natural History, there is likely to have been reference to the visit to the Peale Museum of another Englishman, Charles Waterton, fourteen years before. This is part of Charles’ account of that visit:

When you go to Philadelphia, be sure not to forget to visit the Museum. It will afford you a great treat. Some of Mr [Charles Willson] Peale’s family are constantly in it, and are ever ready to show the curiosities to strangers, and to give them every necessary information. Mr Peale has now passed his eightieth year, and appears to possess the vivacity, and I may almost add, the activity of youth. To the indefatigable exertions of this gentleman, is the western world indebted for the possession of this splendid Museum. Mr Peale is, moreover, an excellent artist. ³

Like Henry Gosse, Charles Waterton had been a keen observer of the natural world since boyhood, but this common interest was one of the few similarities between the two men. Interestingly, the lives of both were dominated by their religious beliefs: for Henry Gosse, his complete trust in the literal truth of The Bible; for Charles Waterton, his Catholic faith and profound respect for the teachings of Jesuits. Although both men were writers, and could convey what they saw to readers with enthusiasm, they had different practical skills. Henry was a gifted artist and illustrator, while Charles perfected his own method of taxidermy, a subject that was of interest to Titian Peale who also practised in this field.

Having researched and written about the life of Henry Gosse, ⁴ it seemed natural for me to visit “Sandhurst”, his home in Torquay from 1857-1888. Of course, it had changed substantially, but I still felt something of the spirit of the man around the main building there. As I am currently writing about Charles Waterton, I decided to visit his home, Walton Hall, now part of the Waterton Park Hotel in Yorkshire. Better than that, I was able to stay in the Hall itself and it was easy to imagine its rather grand staircase with cases containing various preserved animals fixed to the outside of the banister rail. It was also easy to imagine Charles Waterton and his ascetic life here, sleeping with open windows at all times of year and not in a bed but on the floor, with a block for a pillow. Fortunately, the Hall is no longer infested with "Hanoverian rats", as it was in Charles' day.

 Walton Hall

The staircase at Walton Hall

There is much too much to Charles Waterton for a single blog post, for he was a most interesting man and a free sprit, being given a chapter of his own in Edith Sitwell’s The English Eccentrics. ⁵ One aspect of the man, however, can be mentioned and that was his pioneering interest in conservation. He had a high wall built around the Walton Hall estate, which then became a refuge for wild animals, free from intruding humans and other predators. It is said that Charles knew all the trees on the estate and, as he was an avid tree climber, this was not only from ground level. He took delight in seeing animals moving about freely and safely and, like many conservationists, he also enhanced areas to be especially favourable to some bird and mammal species. When he was not travelling, Charles spent much of his time watching the comings and goings and he was an excellent and patient field naturalist.

 Part of the wall surrounding Walton Hall estate

Unfortunately, the estate became polluted by effluent and toxic fumes from a nearby soap works and Charles fought court battles to have it closed down, finally offering the works owner a financial inducement to re-locate to a site some distance away. This allowed the estate to recover from the worst of the effects of the pollutants and, lest one think it was all a private obsession, it should be pointed out that Charles allowed access to local people and welcomed visitors who shared his passions.

Walton Hall estate today

Much of the Walton Hall estate is now a golf course and many of the trees have been cut down as a result. The Hall itself is not only a hotel but a popular wedding venue and I wonder how many people that visit are aware of the remarkable man who lived there in the nineteenth century? There are several biographies of Charles Waterton, one of them, ironically, being by Philip Gosse, ⁶ the grandson of Henry Gosse and the son of Edmund. A further irony is that Charles Waterton also had an only child whom he named Edmund and, in another parallel to Edmund Gosse, was quite different to his father in almost every way, although they shared a strong Catholic faith. Edmund Gosse went on to become an Establishment figure, without his father’s unshakeable evangelical Christian faith, while Edmund Waterton liked luxury, the trappings of privilege and the gaudier aspects of Roman Catholic ceremony and power. In the end, his expensive way of life meant that Walton Hall had to be sold and, to add yet another level of irony, the purchaser was Edward Simpson, the eldest son of the owner of the original soap works with whom Charles had fought the legal battles. ⁷

It is unfortunate that we only have one good likeness of Charles Waterton, although there are numerous descriptions of his habits and appearance. This likeness hangs in the National Portrait Gallery in London and was painted by Charles Willson Peale during Charles Waterton’s visit to Philadelphia in 1824. Having looked closely at this picture, I find it captures what I know of the man and also of his passion for taxidermy and Natural History. Like Henry Gosse, he was a remarkable character and perhaps not as eccentric as Edith Sitwell ⁵ would have us believe.

¹ Edmund Gosse (1896) The Naturalist of the Sea-Shore: The Life of Philip Henry Gosse. London, William Heinemann.

² http://clade.ansp.org/entomology/collections/peale/

³ Charles Waterton (1973) Wanderings in South America, the North-West of the United States, and the Antilles, in the years 1812, 1816, 1820 and 1824 with original instructions for the perfect preservation of birds and for cabinets of natural history. London, Oxford University Press.

⁴ Roger S Wotton (2012) Walking with Gosse: Natural History, Creation and Religious Conflicts. Southampton, Clio Publishing.

⁵ Edith Sitwell (1933) English Eccentrics. London, Faber and Faber.

⁶ Philip Gosse (1940) The Squire of Walton Hall: The Life of Charles Waterton. London, Cassell.

⁷Julia Blackburn (1989) Charles Waterton 1782-1865: Traveller and Conservationist. London, The Bodley Head.

 

P.S. Just to demonstrate Charles Willson Peale's love of art and artists, Titian had three brothers named Raphaelle, Rembrandt and Rubens. There were 16 children altogether.