Chapter XVIII: Conclusion (1)

EDWARD’S labours were now drawing to a close. He had fought the fight of science inch by inch, until he could fight no more. He had also fought the fight of honest poverty—a great triumph and a great glory.

The honest man, though e’er sae poor,
Is king o’ men, for a’ that.

It is said that the man who can pay his way is not poor. Edward could always do that. He was in no man’s debt. He had lived within his means, small though they were. Towards the end of his life, he could only earn about eight shillings a week. But his children were now growing up; and as he had helped them in their youth, they now helped him in his age.

He had become prematurely old. His constitution had been seriously injured by his continuous exposure to the night air. He had repeated illnesses—inflammations of the throat and lungs, inflammations of the stomach and bowels—each attack rendering him weaker than before, until at last he altogether gave up his researches, and confined himself to shoemaking,—occasionally attending as curator at the museum.

[Sidenote: _CRAVING FOR NATURE._]

Yet he never could get rid of his love of Nature. He continued to admire the works of the Creator as much as ever. On recovering from one of his illnesses, he went to Huntly for a change of air. His wife accompanied him. When she proposed doing so, he asked the reason. “O!” she replied, “just to keep ye company, and to help ye.” Accordingly she went with him. While at Huntly, he felt his old craving for Nature returning upon him. He wished to go out and search the woods, the mosses, and the burns, as before; but his wife never left him.

Whenever he indicated an intention of penetrating a hedge or leaping a wall, she immediately interfered. The hedge would tear his clothes, and she could not accompany him in jumping dykes. He demurred, and said, that if he went across, he would “come back again.” But that did not suit her purpose, and she would not let him go. As evening approached, she said, “We’ll awa back noo.” He protested that he would rather stay out. “No, no,” said she, “I’m no gaun intill a hole like a wild beast; and, besides, the nicht air would kill me.” In fact, as he afterwards observed, “he had fallen into the hands of the Philistines.”

[Sidenote: _TRAPS AT TARLAIR._]

Edward still took pleasure in wandering along the coast, and surveying the scenes of his former exploits. One day he took a friend round to Tarlair, to look at the rock from which he had fallen. Standing on the high ground above the shore, and looking down upon the rock-pools beneath the promontory, he observed: “I set many of my traps down there. I filled them with seaweed, and sometimes with a piece of dead fish. The sea came in and filled my traps, and sometimes brought in many rare Crustacea. I set my traps along the coast for about ten miles, from Portsoy to Melrose Head. Many a time have I scrambled amongst these rocks. But when I took ill, and the inflammation went to my brain, I had to leave all my traps, and there they are still.”

“What a fine chance that will be for some future Ichthyologist,” said his friend; “he will find the traps ready-made, and perhaps full of new species of crustaceans!” “Weel,” said Edward, “it may be sae; but I dinna think there’ll be sic a feel as me for mony a lang year to come!”

Although he had long given up searching along shore for new specimens of Fish, Crustaceans, or Molluscs, yet he had still another discovery to announce. There was a new fish remaining in his possession which had been entirely lost sight of. He had taken it in 1868, whilst searching amongst the rock-pools at the Links. He kept it alive for two days, and when it died he put it into a bottle, intending to send it to Mr. Couch; but somehow or other the bottle got lost, and, though he turned the house almost upside down, he could never find it.

[Sidenote: _THE NILSSON’S GOBY._]

Only about a year ago, while turning over his papers to find the letters referred to in the preceding pages, he found the bottle containing the new fish at the bottom of the box. How great was his delight! But what was he to do with it? Mr. Couch was dead, all his fish friends were dead, and he did not know to whom to apply, to name the new fish. But as he was about to proceed to Aberdeen to see Mr. Reid, who was so kind as to offer to paint his portrait, he took the fish with him. Mr. Reid procured an introduction for him, through Dean of Guild Walker, to Professor Nicol of Marischal College. The Professor did not at first recognise the fish, but on referring to his works on Ichthyology, he found that it was a specimen of Nilsson’s Goby, a species not before known to have been taken in British seas.

Notwithstanding the thousands of specimens and the hundreds of cases that Edward had been obliged to part with during his successive illnesses,[58] he has still sixty cases filled with about two thousand specimens of natural objects. During his lifetime he has made about five hundred cases with no other tools than his shoemaker’s knife and hammer, and a saw; and he papered, painted, and glazed them all himself.

[Sidenote: _EDWARD’S DISCOVERIES._]

As to the number of different species that he has accumulated during thirty years of incessant toil, it is of course impossible to form an estimate, as he never kept a log-book; but some idea of his persevering labours may be formed from the list of Banffshire Fauna annexed to this volume.

Many of his discoveries have already become facts in history, but a large proportion of them can never be known. His specimens were sent to others to be named, but many of them were never afterwards heard of. This was particularly the case with his shrimps, insects, zoophytes, corals, sponges, sea-slugs, worms, tunicata or leathern-bag molluscs, fossils, and plants. “Had any one,” he says, “taken pity on me in time (as has sometimes been done with others), and raised me from the dirt, I might have been able to name my own specimens, and thereby made my own discoveries known myself.”

Many of Edward’s friends told him that he should have extended his inquiries into Aberdeenshire and the northern counties; and that he should have explored the coasts of the Moray Firth in all directions. Others told him that he should have written and published much more than he did, or was ever able to do; and that he should have given many more facts to the public. The only reply that he gave to such advisers was, that he had neither the opportunity nor the means of doing so, having to work for his daily bread all the time that he was carrying on his researches.

[Sidenote: _AT LAST ACCREDITED._]

He had another difficulty to contend with, besides his want of time and means. When he did publish what he had observed with his own eyes, and not in books through the eyes of others, his facts were often disputed by the higher class of Naturalists. He was under the impression that this arose from the circumstance that they had never been heard of before, and that they had now been brought to light by a poor shoemaker—a person of no standing whatever. This deterred him, in a great measure, from publishing his observations, as he did not like his veracity to be called in question. And it was not until years after, when others higher up the ladder of respectability had published the same facts, that his observations were accredited,—simply because they could no longer be denied.

Towards the close of his labours, Edward, on looking back, was himself surprised that in the midst of his difficulties—his want of learning, his want of time, his want of books—he should have been able to accomplish the little that he did. He had had so many obstructions to encounter. His bringing up as a child, and his want of school education, had been very much against him. Then he had begun to work for daily bread at six years old, and he had continued to labour incessantly for the rest of his life. Of course there was something much more than the mere manual labourer in him. His mind had risen above his daily occupation. For he had the soul of a true man. Above all, he loved Nature and Nature’s works.

[Sidenote: _SELF-RELIANCE._]

We need not speak of his stern self-reliance and his indomitable perseverance. These were among the prominent features of his character. Of his courage, it is scarcely necessary to speak. When we think of his nightly wanderings, his trackings of birds for days together, his encounters with badgers and polecats, his climbing of rocks, and his rolling down cliffs in search of sea-birds, we cannot but think that he taxed his courage a great deal too much.

A great point with him, was his sobriety. For thirty-six years he never entered a public-house nor a dram shop. He was not a teetotaller. Sobriety was merely his habit. Some of his friends advised him to take “a wee drap whisky” with him on cold nights; but he never did. He himself believes that had he drunk whisky, he never could have stood the wet, the cold, and the privations to which he was exposed during so many years of his life. When he went out at night, his food consisted for the most part of plain oatmeal cakes; and his drink was the water from the nearest brook.

He never lost a moment of time. When his work for the day was over, he went out to the links or the fields with his supper of oatmeal cakes in his hand; and after the night had passed, he returned home in time for his next day’s work. He stuffed his birds, or prepared the cases for his collection, by the light of the fire. He was never a moment idle.

[Sidenote: _EDWARD’S FAMILY._]

Another thing must be mentioned to his credit,—and here his wife must share the honour. He brought up his large family of eleven children respectably and virtuously. He educated them much better than he himself had been educated. They were all well clad and well shod, notwithstanding the Scottish proverb to the contrary.[59] Both parents must have felt hope and joy in the future lives of their children. This is one of the greatest comforts of the poor,—to see their family growing up in knowledge, virtue, industry, well-being, and well-doing. We might say much of Edward’s eldest daughter, who has not only helped to keep her parents, but to maintain her brother at school and college. It is families such as these, that maintain the character and constitute the glory of their country.

But to return to Edward and his culture. In one of the earliest letters which the author addressed to him, he made inquiry as to the manner in which he had become acquainted with the scientific works which are so necessary for the study of Natural History. “You seem to wonder,” he said in his reply, “why I did not mention _books_ in my memoir. You may just as well wonder how I can string a few sentences together, or, indeed, how I can write at all. My books, I can tell you, were about as few, as my education was brief and homespun.

“I thought you knew—yes, I am sure you knew—that any one having the Mind and the Will, need not stick fast even in this world. True, he may not shine so greatly as if he were better polished and better educated; but he need not sink in the mire altogether.

[Sidenote: _HIS POWER OF WILL._]

“You may very likely wonder at what I have been able to do—being only a poor souter,[60]—with no one to help me, and but few to encourage me in my labours. Many others have wondered, like yourself. The only answer I can give to such wonderers is, that I had the WILL to do the little that I have accomplished.

“If what I have done by myself, unaided and alone and without the help of books, surpasses the credulity of some, what might I not have accomplished had I obtained the help from others which was so often promised me! But that time is past, and there is no use in saying anything more about it. If I suffered privations, I had only myself and my love of Nature to blame.”

He was sometimes told that it was his “pride” which prevented him from being assisted as he should have been. His answer was, that he did not know anything about pride. But if it consisted in not soliciting aid when in want, and in endeavouring to conceal his poverty even when in need of help,—in order that the world might not know of the misery which himself, his wife, and his family suffered,—then he did not hesitate to say that he and his wife were proud. They never refused a kindly gift, but they always refused public charity.

[Sidenote: _NEVER DESPAIR!_]

“Although,” he says in a recent letter, “I have not known the pangs of want for some time, thanks to my children, I could scarcely have failed to do so in the years that are past. It would have been beyond the common run of things, if I had not. What working-man, especially what journeyman shoemaker, could have brought up and educated a large family, without at times feeling privation and the pressure of poverty? There are other trades which have their dull seasons; but, unlike most other tradesmen, shoemakers are not, from their low pay, able to lay anything by, even when they have plenty of work. And, as a matter of course, this made the struggle, when it did come, all the worse to bear.

“From these facts and others which I have told you before, I say, and am ready to maintain against every opposition, that no one who steps this earth, or even crawls upon it, need ever despair, after what I have done, of achieving whatever of good they have once set their minds on. Firmness of purpose and the Will to do and dare, will accomplish, I may say, almost anything. The Will is the key that opens the door to every path, whether it be of Science or of Nature, and every one has it in his power to choose the road for himself.”

[Sidenote: _MONEY CONSIDERATIONS._]

Notwithstanding Edward’s power of will and indomitable perseverance, and the amount of useful scientific work which he has accomplished, it was easy to see that he was rather disappointed at the results of his labours. It is true that his zoological labours did not enable him to earn money: indeed, he had not worked for money considerations. Natural science is always unremunerative, especially to those who have to work for their daily bread.[61] Nor had his self-imposed labours lifted him above his position in any way. He began life as a shoemaker, and he continued a shoemaker to the end. Many called him a fool because he gave himself up to “beasts.” He himself says, “I have been a fool to Nature all my life.”

“If it had not been for the industry of my children,” he says, “my wife and myself would have been in starvation these many years back, as all that I have been making could scarcely have kept myself in bread. So that is something. But if ever I complained about my life, I never meant it to be in that way. Had the object of my life been money instead of Nature,—had I pursued the one with half the ardour and perseverance that I did the other,—I have no hesitation in saying that by this time I would have been a rich man.

[Sidenote: _THINGS HE HAS NOT DONE._]

“But it is not the things I have done that vexes me so much, as the things that I have _not_ done. I feel that I _could_ have accomplished so much more. I did not want the will, but I wanted the means. It is that consideration that hurts me when I think about it, as I sometimes do. I know what I have done, and from that I can conceive how much more I might have done had I got but a little help. Think yourself—only think for a few moments—of a poor illiterate working man struggling against every sort of privation for so many years, with no other object in view but simply to gain a little knowledge of the works of creation,—think of that, and say if I can be blamed because I occasionally grieve that I had no help, when it would have enabled me to do so much more than I have already done. For these reasons I sometimes consider my life to have been a blasted one—like a diamond taken from the mine, and, instead of being polished, crushed to the earth in a thousand fragments.”

[Sidenote: _EDWARD AT HOME._]

Still, Edward must, to a great extent, have enjoyed a happy life. He was hopeful and cheerful. He had always some object to pursue, with a purpose. That constitutes one of the secrets of happiness. He had an interesting hobby: that is another secret. Natural History is one of the most delightful of hobbies. He had the adventure, the chase, the capture, and often the triumph of discovery. He must have found great delight in finding a new bird, a new star-fish, a new crustacean, a new ascidian. It must also have been a pleasure to him to be in correspondence with some of the most enlightened men of the time; to have received their congratulations upon his discoveries; and to have been rewarded with the titular honours which they had to bestow.

But what did they think of him at home? A man may be a well-disposed man out of doors, yet altogether different in his domestic circle. Follow him home, and see what he is there. We have seen that Edward was a happy father and a happy husband. His children, as we have said, were brought up well and virtuously. There was no better conducted family in Banff. When young they assisted him in his labours amongst his fishes and crustaceans; and, when old, they were proud to help him in all ways. Is not this a great feature in a man’s character?

What did his wife say of him? When reminded of his wanderings about at night, and asked what she thought of them, she replied, “Weel, he took such an interest in beasts, that I didna compleen. Shoemakers were then a very drucken set, but his beasts keepit him frae them. My man’s been a sober man all his life; and he never negleckit his wark. Sae I let him be.” Wise woman!

Scotch people are very reticent. They rarely speak of love or affection. It is all “understood.” It is said that a Scotchman will never tell his wife that he loves her, until he is dying. But you can always tell, from the inside of a house, what the woman is, and how her husband regards her. In these respects, it may be said, that Edward, though poor and scrimp of means, has always enjoyed a happy home; and that is saying a great deal.

[Sidenote: _HIS OUTSIDE HELPERS._]

It is not, however, the amount of love and respect with which a man is regarded at home, that satisfies him,—so much as the esteem with which he is regarded by his fellow-men. When a man works gratuitously for science, and labours for the advancement of knowledge, he seems entitled to admiration and respect. But Edward did not think that his labours had been properly recognised. This seems to have vexed him very much. He had often been promised aid in the shape of books. But no such aid ever came. “All my honours,” said he, “have come from a distance. I have kept the museum of the Banff Institution for about twenty-one years, for I may say almost nothing; and though the Linnean Society thought me worthy of being elected an Associate, the people here did not think me worthy of being an honorary member of their Society. Still, I am not complaining. The people of Banff had no right to make me a gentleman.”

The truth is, that it was a misfortune for Edward to have lived so far from the centre of scientific pursuits. Banff was a place comparatively unknown. In the pursuit of science, a man requires fellowship. He especially requires the fellowship of books. Banff could do little for him in this respect. Had he lived in a larger town, with a library at his command, he could have acquired the friendship of scientific men, who are rarely disposed to be narrow in their “encouragement of native genius and talent,” however poor the student may be.

[Sidenote: _HIS FAILURES._]

But it was difficult for Edward to remove to any other place. He had his family to provide for, and he had not the means of removing them elsewhere. He was tied like a limpet to its rock. Still, he did all that he could to improve his position where he was. He tried to secure an appointment in connection with the police; but having no influence, he failed. He applied to the London College of Surgeons for a curatorship, but Mr. Quekett having informed him that it was only a fourth portership that was wanted, he failed there too. Then he studied electricity, for the purpose of assisting a doctor in electrifying his patients; but thinking that he might kill more than he could cure, he gave up the idea of proceeding further. He next tried photography, but not being provided with sufficient capital, he gave up that too. The last application he made was for an appointment as sub-curator of the City Industrial Museum of Glasgow, but he received no encouragement.

[Sidenote: _RESIGNATION._]

After abandoning photography as a means of subsistence, he returned to his old trade. “As a last and only remaining source,” he said in June 1875, “I betook myself to my old and time-honoured friend, a friend of fifty years’ standing, who has never yet forsaken me, nor refused help to my body when weary, nor rest to my limbs when tired—my well-worn cobbler’s stool. AND HERE I AM STILL on the old boards, doing what little I can, with the aid of my well-worn kit, to maintain myself and my family; with the certainty that instead of my getting the better of the lapstone and leather, they will very soon get the better of me. And although I am now like a beast tethered to his pasturage, with a portion of my faculties somewhat impaired, I can still appreciate and admire as much as ever the beauties and wonders of Nature, as exhibited in the incomparable works of our adorable Creator.”

FOOTNOTES:

[58] After parting with the greater part of his third collection in 1867, Dr. Gray of the British Museum wrote to him: “I wish I had known that you had one or more collections to dispose of, as I should have been very glad to have purchased specimens of the Mollusca, Annelids, Star-fish, Holothurea, Echina, and small fishes of the coast of Banffshire, as I like to get specimens from the different parts of the coast. Should you have any more, please let me know.” But the request came too late.

[59] “The Smith’s meer and the Shaemakers’ bairns are aye the worst shod.”

[60] _Souter_—a shoemaker. _Ne sutor_, etc.

[61] We are sorry to observe that the late Mr. Jonathan Couch, for whom Edward made so many of his researches at Banff, died in reduced circumstances,—rendering it necessary for his daughters to go out in search of employment.

THE FAUNA OF BANFFSHIRE.

[Only a selection of the Fauna is given in the
following pages. Had the Insects, Reptiles, Starfishes,
Zoophytes, Molluscs, Plants, etc., which Edward found
in Banffshire, been given, it would have more than
filled the present volume.]

SELECTIONS FROM THE FAUNA OF BANFFSHIRE,

BY THOMAS EDWARD, A.L.S.

MAMMALS.

MELES TAXUS [_Badger or Brock_]. See p. 102.

Sparingly met with in our wooded districts.

MUSTELA MARTES [_Pine Marten_].

Found chiefly in the higher parts of the county. One
was observed, in 1848, to descend from a tree in the
hills of Boyndie, and go into a rabbit’s hole. The hole
was stopped up, and a spade was brought to dig the
animal out. It had, however, escaped by another outlet
from the burrow.

MUSTELA PUTORIUS [_Polecat or Fumart_].

See page 116.

MUSTELA VULGARIS [_Weasel or Whitret_].

More frequent than the polecat. Whilst the latter would
seem to delight more in plantations and whins, the
other would appear to think more of old dykes, grassy
hillocks, and small cairns of stones. Both are very
destructive, killing much more than they devour. See p.
111.

MUSTELA ERMINEA [_Ermine or Stoat_].

This species is often mistaken for the weasel. They
are very similar during summer, their colours being
then the same. In winter, however, the ermine changes
to a pure white, excepting in a portion of the tail,
which is always black. In this state they are all
but universally called “_White_,” or rather “_Fite
Futrates_.” The true weasel never changes.

LUTRA VULGARIS [_Otter_].

Often met with in suitable localities along the
sea-shore, as well as by many of our streams and
streamlets. See p. 115.

CANIS VULPES [_Fox, Tod Lowric, or Reynard_].

A well-known animal, especially in the country
districts. See pp. 109, 219.

FELIS CATIS [_Common Wild Cat_].

The wild cat is now, perhaps, extinct with us, though
at one time it was frequently found in the woods
and rocky glens of the more alpine portions of the
interior. One which I had the pleasure of seeing, and
which was killed in Glen Avon, measured over four feet
in length, and was well proportioned in every other
respect. It was altogether a very formidable looking
animal.

TALPA EUROPÆA [_Mole or Mowdiewort_].

This harmless creature is often met with. It is very
useful to agriculturists by turning up the fertile
soil, yet they constantly wage war against it. Pure
white varieties are sometimes met with.

ERINACEUS EUROPÆUS [_Hedgehog_].

Even since I remember, “hedgey” was altogether unknown,
or at least very seldom seen, in Banffshire. Now he is
plentiful, and seems to be still on the increase. See
p. 102.

VESPERTILIO PIPISTRELLUS} [_Bat or Backie_].

VESPERTILIO DAUBENTONII }

These are both to be found here. The first is the most
common. It appears that we have another species of bat
here. It is larger than either of the other two. I have
met with it in our woods.

SCIURUS VULGARIS [_Squirrel_].

It is only of late that this agile and tricky little
quadruped has become domiciled in this county.

MYOXUS AVELLANARIUS [_Dormouse_].

I am not quite sure whether we have this animal or not;
I think I have taken it, but am not able to ascertain
the fact with certainty.

MUS MUSCULUS [_Common Mouse_].

There is no doubt about this sly little domestic.
Specimens of various colours—such as white, gray
stripped with white, reddish, and yellow—sometimes
occur. Musical individuals of the genus are not
infrequent. See p. 110.

MUS SYLVATICUS [_Long-tailed or Wood Mouse_].

Is to be found in almost every conceivable situation,
except in towns.

MUS MESSORIUS [_Harvest Mouse_].

This sleek little thing, the smallest of British
quadrupeds, is now well ascertained to be a native of
Banffshire. I have myself taken it several times.

MUS RATTUS [_Black Rat_].

This, the native British rat, though at one time
very abundant, is so no longer. It has been expelled
or driven back, as the Celts have been by the
Scandinavians, by the Norway rat. The black rat is
seldom seen now. Pure white varieties have been found.

MUS DECUMANUS [_Norwegian Rat or Rottin_].

Very plentiful, and bids fair, erelong, to extirpate
his weaker relative, the Black Rat. See p. 113.

ARVICOLA AMPHIBIA [_Water Rat_].

To be found on the banks of all our streams. It is
sometimes turned up with the plough, at a considerable
distance from the water. It is a curious circumstance
that the water rats of England are mostly of a light
brown colour, whilst those of Scotland are usually jet
black.

ARVICOLA AGRESTIS [_Short-tailed Field Mouse_].

Plentiful, and very destructive to young trees.

ARVICOLA PRATENSIS [_Meadow Mouse_].

Like the last in appearance and habits. It is
recognisable by its much longer tail.

SOREX ARANEUS [_Common Shrew_].

Plentiful.

SOREX FODIENS [_Water Shrew_].

Found along burnsides, and occasionally in ditches.

SOREX REMIFER [_Black Water Shrew_].

Not so frequently found as the last. The water shrew
is very difficult to be taken. I never could manage
to trap any of them. They baffled all my ingenuity.
My only resource was the gun, and even with it I have
often had enough to do. I have sat for from six to
seven hours without moving, watching for an opportunity
of shooting the water shrew, and been doomed to
disappointment at last.

LEPUS TIMIDUS [_Common Hare or Maukins_].

Very plentiful in the low grounds. See pp. 106, 274.

LEPUS VARIABILIS [_Blue or Alpine Hare_].

This species is only to be met with in the hills
and mountains, except when driven down by stress of
weather. In very severe winters they occasionally
descend in great numbers to the lower part of the
county, at which time they are of a pure white.

LEPUS CUNICULUS [_Rabbit_].

Very plentiful, in every conceivable spot, from the
rocky shore, the sandbank, the quarry hole, the stony
cairn, the old dyke, the garden, the orchard, and the
open field, to the thickest woods. White, black, cream
coloured, stripped, and pied varieties, occur. See pp.
106, 275.

CERVUS ELAPHUS [_Stag, Red or Highland Deer_].

This, perhaps the fleetest, as he is the noblest of
our wild animals, still holds his place in the county,
though not now so numerous as he used to be.

CERVUS CAPREOLUS [_Roe Deer_].

The roe seems to be more widely distributed than the
red deer; and whilst the latter usually inhabits the
more sequestered heath, grassy dells, and wooded glens
of the higher lands, the other is mostly found in the
plantations and copses of the lower levels. See p. 106.

PHOCA VITULINA [_Seal or Selch_].

Stray individuals of this aquatic tribe pay us a visit
now and then. They are common in Cromarty Firth.

DELPHINUS PHOCÆNA [_Porpoise or Sea Hog_].

This is another watery visitant, much more frequently
seen than the seal.

DELPHINUS DELPHIS [_Striped Porpoise or Dolphin_].

A specimen of this beautiful porpoise was taken here in
1853.

DELPHINUS TURSIO [_Bottle-nosed Porpoise_].

This species is said to have been taken here, though
there are some doubts as to the fact.

DELPHINUS DEDUCTOR [_Pilot Whale_].

Several of these have from time to time been met with.
There are other species of whales which have been
captured here. One, reported to have been a monster for
size, is said to have been found amongst the rocks,
so far back as about the beginning of last century,
betwixt the Boyne and the point known as the King’s
Head, but of what species is not accurately known. It
is stated in the “Statistical Account of the Parish of
Rathven,” which extends about ten miles along the coast
west of Cullen, that the porpoise, the grampus, and the
spermaceti whale, are frequently seen along the shore.

BIRDS.

AQUILA CHRYSAETOS [_The Golden Eagle_].

The eagle breeds in the highest parts of the county, in
the rocky heights near Ben Avon (see p. 121). They have
also been seen hovering about the sea-braes between
Banff and Portsoy.

AQUILA ALBICILLA [_The Erne or Sea-Eagle_] has also been found.

AQUILA HALIAETUS [_The Osprey, Fish Hawk, or Fishing
Eagle_] has also been found. A very fine male specimen
was shot amongst the high cliffs of Gamrie Head.
Another was seen at Melrose, a few miles from where the
other was obtained.

FALCO PEREGRINUS [_The Peregrine Falcon, Blue or Hunting Hawk_].

The Peregrine is one of our native hawks, and breeds
annually, though very sparingly, and usually in
inaccessible places in some of our highest headlands.
Peregrine falcons have been taken from their nests in
Troup Head. As to the manner in which they devour their
prey, see p. 223.

FALCO ÆSALON [_The Merlin_].

A daring little fellow that breeds on several of
our hills, more particularly on the Knock, the Bin
(Huntly), Auchindoon, and Benvennis. When strolling
along our sea-braes early one morning, I heard a
tremendous noise of rooks and jackdaws ahead of me, and
on coming to the spot I found them attacking a little
merlin. One would have thought that such a host would
have smothered the little creature in a twinkling.
But such was not the case. The crows did not assail
him all at once, nor yet singly; but three, four, and
as many as seven, would be on him at a time, the main
body keeping at a short distance, encouraging their
companions, as it were, with their cawings. After a
while, one of these storming parties would retire,
and then another would sally forth to the charge. The
merlin, however, being of lighter mettle and swifter
of wing, managed, with wonderful dexterity, generally
to avoid their attacks; now rising, now descending,
and now turning in a zigzag direction, first to one
side, then to the other; and succeeding, whilst doing
so, in giving one or other of his adversaries a
pretty severe peck, which had the effect of sending
him screaming away. At last, however, a crow, which
seemed more courageous than the rest, rushed at the
merlin with such fury that I actually thought he
would have swallowed him up at once, or sent him
headlong into the sea. But no! the merlin withstood
the shock, and contrived to deal his assailant a
thrust as he approached and passed him. The merlin
now rose considerably higher, and was followed only
by this single opponent, who returned with redoubled
fury to the combat. Up, up they soar, fighting as
they go. They close, they scream, they grapple, and
their feathers fly like dust. Down they come, locked
in deadly embrace. I run to catch them both. But no!
See! they part, mount again and again, scream, close,
and, as before, fall, but not this time to the earth;
they part and mount again. But ’tis now their last
time; for the hawk, rising several yards above his bold
and venturous antagonist, rushes down upon him with a
yell, such as hawks alone, when irritated, know how to
utter, and with such force that both fell right down
into the sea, above which they were then fighting. I
looked to see them rise again; but they did not. After
a little splashing, all was over with the crow, but
not with the hawk: he was still alive, although in a
very precarious situation, from which he made several
unsuccessful attempts to rise, but could not. It would
seem that in dealing the death-blow to his tormentor
he somehow or other got himself entangled, perhaps by
his talons entering some of the bones of the crow,
from whence he could not extract them. Both met with a
watery grave, for on my leaving the place, they were
both fast drifting seaward, a breeze blowing off the
land at the time, with the crows hovering over them and
still cawing.

FALCO NISUS [_The Sparrow-Hawk_].

This is another daring individual. When standing on
our Links not long since, and speaking to one of our
keepers, something struck me on the breast and fell to
the ground. Instantly, and like a flash of lightning,
down rushed a sparrow-hawk, and picked up a thrush from
betwixt us; it rose with its booty, and was out of
sight before we could raise our guns to fire at it. The
keeper grumbled a great deal at our seeming stupidity.

FALCO TINNUNCULUS [_The Kestrel_].

This mouse-, insect-, and caterpillar-eating bird,
or hawk if you will, is very common with us. When
a boy I kept, amongst a host of others, several of
this species. I remember that when a mouse, a young
rabbit, a leveret, and a middle-sized rat, were
presented at the same time, either of the former was
sure to be pounced upon, whilst the latter usually
lay unheeded. Since then, during my thirty years of
taxidermal practice, I have often dissected this bird,
and found in its stomach the remains principally of
the smaller quadrupeds, insects (chiefly beetles), and
caterpillars. Yet this poor bird is persecuted with as
much severity as birds of the most destructive kind.

FALCO PALUMBARIUS [_The Goshawk_].

One was shot at Tomintoul a short time ago, and two
others—one at Hillton, the other at Macduff. It is
rather a rare bird.

FALCO MILVUS [_The Kite_].

This bird was once plentiful here, but it is now rarely
seen. A splendid specimen was recently shot at Eden,
about four miles from Banff.

FALCO BUTEO [_The Buzzard_]. Occasionally met with.

FALCO LAGOPUS [_The Rough-Legged Buzzard_].

More frequent than the last. One in my collection was
killed on the hill of Dunn, and another in the museum
was shot at Forglen. The nests of this species have
also been found in the neighbourhood, though rarely.

FALCO APIVORUS [_The Honey Buzzard_].

A still rarer species. A splendid specimen was shot at
Gamrie a few years ago. They are usually termed “Gleds”
with us.

FALCO ÆRUGINOSUS [_The Marsh Harrier_].

Specimens of these birds are occasionally shot in this
neighbourhood.

FALCO CYANEUS [_The Hen Harrier_].

Occasionally met with. The male is known here by the
names of gray, blue, and lead hawk; the female by the
name of ring-tail.

FALCO CINERASCENS [_Ash-coloured Harrier_].

I have only met with one of this species here. It was a
first-rate specimen,—a male, and a very pretty bird.

STRIX OTUS [_The Long-eared Horned Owl_].

Plentiful. I once found a nest of this bird with eggs
about the middle of March. See p. 121.

STRIX BRACHYOTUS [_The Short-eared Owl, Woodcock, or Grass Owl_].

A migrating species with us. Specimens are frequently
met with by sportsmen when out shooting snipes,
woodcocks, etc.

STRIX FLAMMEA [_The Barn Owl_].

This bird, though common in England, is very rare
with us. I know of only four being procured within
twenty-four years. One is in my own collection.

STRIX ALUCO [_The Tawny or Brown Owl_].

Almost equal in numbers to the long-eared owl, which is
plentiful.

STRIX NYCTEA [_The Snowy Owl_].

One of the most magnificent of the owl tribe. What a
splendid and showy bird! I think the term “glistening”
or “spangled” might, with all truth and justice, be
applied to this shining species. What a noble-looking
bird! What beautiful eyes! the pupil dark, and the iris
like two rings of the finest burnished gold, set, as it
were, in a casket of polished silver. I am glad, nay
proud, of being able to give this king of British owls
a place in my list, and of being able, perhaps for the
first time, to say that at least one pair have been
known to breed within the district. A few miles west
of Portsoy, and not far from Cullen, stands the bold
and towering form of Loggie Head. In connection with
this rocky promontory, and about midway up its rugged
height, there is a narrow cave or chasm called “Dickie
Hare.” In this cave a pair of these owls bred in 1845.
Unluckily, however, for them, a party of fishermen
belonging to Cullen, returning one morning from their
vocation discovered their retreat, by observing one of
the birds go in. This was too good to lose sight of,
so up the dangerous and jagged precipice scrambled one
of the crew, and managed to reach the aperture where
the bird disappeared; but instead of only one, as he
expected, he was not a little surprised to find that
he had four to deal with, two old and two young ones
well fledged; and the apartment was so narrow that only
one person could enter at a time, so that help was out
of the question; and his ambition grasped the whole.
What was he to do, or what could he do? Turn?—then
the birds would have flown. No! but, just as I would
have done had I been in his place, he set upon them
all; and, after a prolonged and pretty severe battle,
in which he got himself a good deal lacerated and his
clothes torn by the claws of the birds, he succeeded
in capturing them all alive, except one of the young
ones, which fell a sacrifice to the struggle. The state
of excitement which the little town was in as the man
landed with his prizes, and the news of his morning’s
achievement spread, may in some measure be imagined,
but can hardly be described.

STRIX PASSERINA [_The Little Owl_].

I give this bird a place on the authority of a Mr.
Wilson, who informs me he saw one in a wood near this
place.

MUSCICAPA GRISOLA [_The Spotted Fly-Catcher_].

It is somewhat strange, but not less strange than true,
that this sylvan and garden-loving species should also
be found nestling and inhabiting our wild and rocky
ravines; yet such is the case. I have met with them
twice.

MUSCICAPA ATRICAPILLA [_The Pied Fly-Catcher_].

I have a specimen of this bird, a male, in my
possession, which was shot about thirteen miles from
this place.

CINCLUS AQUATICUS [_The Dipper, or Water-Cockie_].

Every means has been put in requisition to destroy
this little bird. It was abundant thirty years ago;
but it is now rarely to be seen. It was supposed to
destroy the young salmon, hence it has been shot down
wherever found. But I have never as yet found anything
appertaining to fish in its stomach, and I have
dissected about forty,—water insects and their larvæ
being what I have most frequently observed.

TURDUS VISCIVORUS [_The Missel Thrush_].

About twenty years ago such a bird was scarcely known
among us, but now it bids fair to outnumber the common
species; for as the one gains ground, the other seems
to lose it.

TURDUS PILARIS [_The Fieldfare_].

A winter visitor. We call them “Hielan’-pyats,” that is
“Highland piets.” They arrive in October, and depart
in April. Some seasons they occur in thousands, but in
others only sparingly.

TURDUS MUSICUS [_The Song Thrush or Mavis_].

Usually very common in this neighbourhood, but
becoming superseded by the missel thrush. (For its
singing propensities see p. 269.) There is one fact
in connection with the rearing of these birds which I
must not omit to mention,—namely, that if any of the
young refuse to open their mouths to receive food when
offered, the old one knocks them soundly on the head
with his bill until they did so. I have observed this
frequently, and was not a little amused at it.

TURDUS ILIACUS [_The Redwing_].

A winter visitor, like the fieldfare, but not nearly so
numerous.

TURDUS MERULA [_The Blackbird, Blackie_].

Generally distributed, but not in great plenty in any
place. White varieties have occasionally been met
with, as well as pied. When the winter storms send the
thrushes to the sea-shore to seek for food, this bird
betakes himself to farm-steadings and stable-yards, so
that he never suffers so much as the thrushes do.

TURDUS TORQUATUS [_The Ring Ouzel_].

Rare. A few breed now and then among the higher
districts of the county.

ACCENTOR MODULARIS [_The Hedge Sparrow_].

Generally distributed, but nowhere in abundance.

SYLVIA RUBECULA [_Robin Redbreast_].

This rather bold, red-breasted gentleman, or cock-robin
as we call him here, is somewhat more numerous than the
last.

SYLVIA PHŒNICURUS [_The Redstart_].

Frequents our gardens, and breeds there.

SYLVIA TITHYS [_The Black Redstart_].

I am only aware of two of these birds having been seen
in our county.

SYLVIA RUBICOLA [_The Stonechat_].

SYLVIA RUBETRA [_The Whinchat_].

Neither of these birds are very numerous with us;
but they may occasionally be seen in suitable
localities,—the first is with us all the year, and the
other, though migratory, is occasionally seen in winter.

SYLVIA ŒNANTHE[_The Wheatear_].

A summer visitor. Wheatears generally appear on the
sea-coast first, from whence they disperse inland. They
are called with us the “Stone Chatterer.”

SYLVIA PHRAGMITIS [_The Sedge Warbler_].

Comparatively rare. It is only of late years that this
bird has visited us. How pleasant and enchanting it is
to wander by the margin of the running stream either
at latest even, or at earliest morn, or even during
summer’s midnight hours, and hear the sedge warbler
pouring forth his long harmonious song,—himself all the
while hid in some neighbouring bush. See pp. 51, 125.

SYLVIA ATRICAPILLA [_The Blackcap_].

Rarer even than the last. A most noble songster, though
I prefer the thrush.

SYLVIA CINEREA [_The Whitethroat_].

More numerous than either of the two last. It arrives
about the same time.

SYLVIA SIBILATRIX [_The Wood Wren_].

Very rare. It is only seen at intervals, though it is
supposed to breed here.

SYLVIA TROCHILUS [_The Willow Wren_].

Common throughout the whole county. It is found
in plantations, whins, brooms, and in gardens and
orchards. It generally nests on the ground. It is a
very lively songster.

SYLVIA RUFA [_The Chiffchaff_].

The only bird of this kind that I have seen, is one
that I took myself in the Duff House policies.

REGULUS CRISTATUS [_The Golden-crested Regulus or Wren_].

Wherever there are suitable woods, this bird is to be
found among us in pretty fair numbers.

PARUS MAJOR [_The Great Titmouse_],

PARUS CÆRULEUS [_The Blue Titmouse_],

PARUS ATER [_The Cole Titmouse_], and

PARUS CAUDATUS [_The Long-tailed Titmouse_].

These birds all exist in the county in about equal
numbers. It is rather an interesting and pleasant
sight, and one which I have often witnessed, to see
small bands of these lively, active little birds,
together with the goldcrests and creepers, all in
company, foraging about amongst the leafy trees in
winter; the tits on the branches, the creepers on the
trunk, and, if there is no snow on the ground, the
goldcrests generally lower down, near about the roots.
All is life, bustle, and animation, each cheering the
other with its tiny note. See p. 69.

PARUS PALUSTRIS [_The Marsh Titmouse_].

This bird is very seldom seen among us.

PARUS CRISTATUS [_The Crested Titmouse_].

This rare British Tit is an inhabitant of the higher
and middle districts of the county, where it breeds
occasionally.

BOMBYCILLA GARRULA [_The Waxwing_].

This bird is an occasional winter visitor. Some
seasons large flocks appear, then only a few; then,
again, perhaps none; and this may be the case for many
succeeding seasons.

MOTACILLA YARRELLI [_Pied Wagtail_].

Wherever there is a stream or a quarry, you will meet,
in summer, with a pair or two of these active little
insect-eaters. During winter, they are invariably to be
seen on lawns, or about mills and farm-steadings. They
remain with us all the year round.

MOTACILLA BOARULA [_The Gray Wagtail_].

This is our yellow wagtail, being known by no other
name. Though generally distributed throughout the
country, it is not nearly so abundant. It sometimes
breeds in company with the sand martin.

MOTACILLA CAMPESTRIS [_Ray’s Wagtail_].

Only an occasional visitor with us. They breed
plentifully amongst the hillocks which stretch along
the line of coast between the Don (Aberdeenshire) and
Newburgh,—then again from Peterhead to Fraserburgh.

ANTHUS ARBOREUS [_The Tree Pipit_].

This bird is frequently seen; it breeds near
Inverkeithnay, Rothiemay, and Inveraven.

ANTHUS PRATENSIS [_The Meadow Pipit_].

Plentiful throughout the whole county.

ANTHUS OBSCURUS [_The Rock Pipit_].

Known all along our coast.

ANTHUS RICARDI [_Richard’s Pipit_].

I have only seen this bird once, at the foot of the
Knock Hill.

ALAUDA ARVENSIS [_The Skylark or Laverock_].

Universally distributed along the whole length and
breadth of the county. It is, I think, the most
numerous bird we have. Towards the months of October
and November a great diminution of its numbers takes
place. But a little after New Year’s Day they again
begin to make their appearance. Where they have been
in the meantime, I have never been able to ascertain;
one thing is certain, however, that I have seen them
returning from the east and from the north, in immense
numbers. (See pp. 127, 269.)

ALAUDA ARBOREA [_The Wood Lark_].

I have seen but one of these birds, in the avenue of
Duff House. It was alone and in song at the time—May
27, 1850.

EMBERIZA NIVALIS [_The Snow Bunting_].

Seen in large flocks during winter, and exhibiting a
motley mixture of pure white, jet black, dull tawny,
and deep chestnut,—a beautiful band across the wings
being conspicuous only in flight. They arrive about the
beginning of November, and depart about the first of
April. They sing beautifully, in a sweet low lilt.

EMBERIZA MILIARIA [_The Corn Bunting_].

This bird is not very numerous with us.

EMBERIZA SCHŒNICLUS [_The Black-headed Bunting or Ring Fowl_].

It frequents the mosses. I have found their nests in
bushes, amongst reeds, or on the ground. It is called
the “Moss Sparrow” by the country people. I once saw a
black variety of this bird, and another almost yellow.

EMBERIZA CITRINELLA [_The Yellowhammer_].

More numerous than either of the two last. The common
name here is “Skite.” It is not particular as to the
place where it builds its nest. I have seen one built
in a rut on a cart-track, close by the wayside. On
passing afterwards, I found the nest had been destroyed
by a cart-wheel passing over it.

EMBERIZA CIRLUS [_The Cirl Bunting_].

Very rarely found in this quarter.

FRINGILLA CŒLEBS [_The Chaffinch_]. Abundant.

FRINGILLA MONTIFRINGILLA [_The Brambling_].

A winter visitor. A few may be met with every season.

FRINGILLA MONTANA [_The Tree Sparrow_].

To be found in several localities throughout the county.

FRINGILLA DOMESTICA [_The House Sparrow_]. Numerous.

FRINGILLA CHLORIS [_The Green Finch_].

Pretty generally distributed throughout the country,
and especially in woody places. The bird is easily
tamed.

FRINGILLA COCCOTHRAUSTES [_The Hawfinch_].

A rare bird with us.

FRINGILLA CIRIS [_The Painted Finch_].

A migratory species. Only one specimen has been seen.

FRINGILLA CARDUELIS [_The Goldfinch_].

These birds have in a great measure been captured by
the bird-catchers. (See p. 270.)

FRINGILLA SPINUS [_The Siskin_].

Fewer than before. They have been thinned by the
bird-catchers. A tamable bird.

FRINGILLA CANNABINA [_The Linnet_].

There is no house bird that possesses so many names as
this one. It is the rose lintie so long as it retains
its red breast; but when that is gone or wanting, it
is then the gray lintie, the whin lintie, the brown
lintie, and so on. Cultivation is driving the linties
away, by tearing down every whin, knoll, and brae,
where it is possible for the plough and spade to work
their way.

FRINGILLA LINARIA [_The Lesser Redpole_].

This is found most plentifully in the higher districts
of the county; but in severe winters, large flocks of
them descend to the lower grounds.

FRINGILLA BOREALIS [_The Mealy Redpole_]. A rare species.

FRINGILLA MONTIUM [_The Twite_].

Another mountain as well as sea-shore rocky species. It
is the most elegant of all our linnets.

LOXIA PYRRHULA [_The Bullfinch_].

This is another prize for the trapper. But great
numbers are annually destroyed by gardeners and
nurserymen, who believe that they are destructive. Yet
their principal food consists of insects; and insects
are also the chief food for their young. I hope a
better day will arrive for these lovely little birds,
when they will be cherished and encouraged rather than
hated and destroyed. The bullfinch is easily taught to
whistle, or to “pipe” familiar tunes.

LOXIA CURVIVOSTRA [_The Crossbill_].

This bird is on the increase. They nest with us, and
have done so for some years. There is a great diversity
of colour and size amongst them.

LOXIA PYTIOPSITTACUS [_Parrot Crossbill_].

While walking one morning round the Whinhill, and just
as I reached the south side, I was rather surprised at
hearing the voice of what I knew to be a stranger. On
looking to a low, bare wall, about three or four yards
in front of me, I beheld, in all his pride and beauty,
a male parrot crossbill. This is the only instance, to
my knowledge, of its existence amongst us.

LOXIA LEUCOPTERA [_White-Winged Crossbill_].

About fifty years ago, a large flock of these birds
suddenly made their appearance on the “Castle trees,”
in this neighbourhood. Their strange appearance and
gaudy plumage soon attracted notice,—nearly the whole
town flocking to see the “foreigners.” They appeared
quite exhausted, many of them dropping from the trees.

STURNUS VULGARIS [_The Starling_].

The starling has been rapidly increasing of late years.
At one time single starlings were rarely to be seen,
whereas flocks of this bird now appear towards the
close of every season.

STURNUS PREDATORIUS [_The Red-Winged Starling_].

A pretty bird which occasionally visits this county.

PASTOR ROSEUS [_Rose-Coloured Pastor_].

This is another rare beauty, occasionally seen in this
county.

CORVUS CORAX [_The Raven_].