# The Zoologist/4th series, vol 5 (1901)/Issue 724/Early Ornithologists, Macpherson

Published in The Zoologist, 4th series, vol 5, issue 724, October 1901, p. 376–383
EARLY ORNITHOLOGISTS.
By the Rev. H.A. Macpherson, M.A.
The ninth edition of the 'Encyclopædia Britannica,' though now somewhat out of date in scientific matters, contains nevertheless many articles on natural history which can be referred to with advantage. Of the number, Prof. Ray Lankester's article on Zoologyis one of the most weighty. But there is a single sentence in this admirable essay to which we have never been able to subscribe, namely, that in which we are informed that "the real dawn of zoology..... is connected with the name of an Englishman, Wotton" (Encl. Brit. vol. xxiv. p. 803). "The real dawn of zoology" is truly inseparable from the name of an Englishman, but it is the name of William Turner, and not that of honest Wotton which is linked with the foundation of zoological science. Wotton was a book-maker, who made a digest of the zoological knowledge of the classical writers, and published the compendium under the title of De Differentiis Animalium. This work was published at Paris, and did not appear until eight years after Turner had published his history of the birds known to Aristotle and Pliny. When it did appear, it failed to add a single new fact to the science which it was supposed to further, for Wotton candidly disclaims any share of original work. He was a compiler, like Goldsmith, and he really deserves no more credit than the author of 'Animated Nature.' The modern science of zoology owes its first conception to the genius of a galaxy of talents, of which Turner, Belon, Gesner, and Aldrovandi were the brightest ornaments, though Rondelet and Salviani accomplished much for ichthyology. If we limit our attention to the science of ornithology, we find that these men knew far more about the anatomy of birds than the majority of twentieth century naturalists. Not only did they observe the habits of wild birds, study their migrations, examine their crops ​to ascertain the nature of their food, measure their skins, investigate their changes of plumage, trace their distribution, and describe their eggs, but they paid profound attention to both the muscular system of birds and their osteology. They were nothing if not thorough in their devotion to our beloved science. The attainments of these men were all the more remarkable, because for the most part they enjoyed no advantages of birth. Turner, Belon, and Gesner were all poor men, who fought their way to the front by sheer pluck and indomitable industry. Turner was born beside a Morpeth tannery about 1507; Pierre Belon belonged to some obscure household in the humble hamlet of Soulettiere, in Maine, and seems to have been about ten years junior to Turner. Conrad Gesner, a beautiful character, was born and bred in the old town of Zurich. He was born on the 26th of March, 1516. Ursus and Barbara Gesner, his parents, were plain working people. They had a large family to support upon a very meagre pittance. Ulysses Aldrovandi was of noble parentage, but he too had to learn the bitterness of trying to accomplish scientific work with an empty purse. Of dear old Turner we have already spoken at some length, but perhaps the indulgence of the reader will permit a further reference to the father of British zoology. He was a rough, rugged northcountryman—one of those blunt uncompromising men who wish to carry everything their own way, and lack patience for the views of those who differ from them. But if Turner had the misfortune to be a bigoted and determined reformer, he was thoroughly genuine in his professions, and he atoned for all errors of judgment by a life of pain and prolonged exile. His marriage with Mistress Jane Ander increased his difficulties. There is a note of pathos in the reference which is contained in one of his letters to Master Cicell: —"My chylder haue bene fed so long wt hope that they ar very leane, i wold fayne haue the fatter if it were possible."
Pierre Belon's boyhood is a sealed book, but we know that his singular ability and devotion to learning secured for him the notice of kind patrons, who freed him from occasional pecuniary embarrassments, and provided him with a sound education. He was a born traveller, and seems to have been as much at home among the Arabs of the desert as in the society of ambassadors ​and courtiers. Wherever he went he made original observations, and his store of information was immense. Conrad Gesner climbed the rungs of the ladder of fame in the teeth of many discouragements. Not only was he one of a large family, but his father fell in the Civil War of 1531; and matters would have fared badly with our hero had it not been that he possessed an excellent relative—John Friccius, his maternal uncle. This benevolent priest was deeply versed in herbal lore, and taught Conrad to study field botany. But the untimely death of his benefactor cast Conrad back upon the mercies of the world, and it was with much difficulty that the stripling became a student at the University of Paris, where he made the acquaintance of John Steiger and other young men, who proved of service to him in later years. It is sometimes taken for granted that Gesner was a mere scribe, who freely utilized the writings of others for his great works, but made few original observations. No less deserved calumny could be heaped upon his memory. Certainly he was a maker of books, but he was not a book-maker in any but the noblest sense. He had as strong a desire to make personal observations as any of us, but it is only the fortunate few who can find leisure and means for research. Gesner visited Italy, and spent a whole month at Venice on purpose to study the fishes of the Venetian lagoons; but, unhappily, war broke out, and compelled him to return home. If he failed to carry out other schemes of travelling, it was not because he lacked enthusiasm, but because his health was poor, and his means were straitened. But though he could not gratify his natural ambition to scour Europe for specimens, he utilized other men to the same end, obtaining both specimens and information from correspondents in many lands. His bright genial nature won for Gesner the loyal support of all who had the privilege of knowing him. Aldrovandi, in his old age, wrote rather slightingly of Gesner, because he had arranged his history of birds alphabetically, as Prof. Newton has done in our own day. But we know that Gesner, like the modern naturalist whom he so closely resembled in his great erudition, adopted an alphabetical arrangement solely for the convenience of his readers. He was every bit as anxious to further the interests of taxonomy as his gouty critic, but there is a time and place for everything. Aldrovandi himself was ​perhaps the finest zoological genius that Italy has produced. That may seem a strong thing to say, for Italian ornithologists are men of high culture; Aldrovandi was at least the first of the race of ornithologists who have conferred so much honour on Italy. He was nobly born, but was only five years old when a fever carried off his father in his thirty-fourth year. The education of the family thus became the care of the young widow Veronica, who showed a wise discretion in the management of her fatherless children. Ulysses was the flower of her little flock, for he possessed "un vivacissimo talento, ed un particolar genio agli studi, corrispose mirabilmente alla brama ed attenzione materna." He was at first intended to follow mercantile pursuits, but his natural bent asserted itself, and eventually he obtained the professorship of natural history in the University of Bologna.
Having thus referred in brief to the youthful vicissitudes and later triumphs of the four great naturalists of the Renaissance, it is right that we should attempt to supply a slight sketch of what they did for ornithology.
Turner wrote as early as 1544, and he supplied a trustworthy account of the species of birds which he knew to be found in or to be absent from England. He added many details of their habits, and recorded their provincial names. He also aided his zoological brethren on the Continent, especially Gesner, who warmly and impulsively records the great assistance he had received from the most accomplished English naturalist of the day. Pierre Belon was shown a specimen of the Siskin which had been sent to his friend Antoine Martinell by "M. Turnerus medècin Angloys." Turner was a scholar of no mean ability, and his active mind was always pondering over Aristotle. When his boat was becalmed off the Dutch coast, he consoled himself for enforced delay by an endeavour to decide whether the "white semau wuith a black cop" that hovered round the little craft was the "Cepphus" of his favourite author. Turner had a sadly chequered career, and died a disappointed man; but his widow made a good second marriage. If the suffering which lined his brow with furrows and abridged his life was bred of his fiery intolerance of the views of others, at any rate he was a martyr to his convictions, and should be held in the highest ​honour and esteem by every successive generation of British naturalists.
A very different man from the Northumbrian controversialist was the father of Gallic zoology. Pierre Belon was the favourite of prelates, welcomed by foreign ambassadors, and flattered by courtly parasites. But he was not spoilt by mature prosperity any more than by his early adversity. A lively, quick-witted Frenchman, with a passionate love of birds, he had obtained a good knowledge of the birds of his beloved France before he commenced those travels which have rendered his name so famous. Aldrovandi says that his French was very bad, but good Ulysses must have his little hit at all possible rivals. Probably he was right in this particular, for the prose of Belon's 'Oyseaux' is difficult reading; but it is one of the few books which we can always take up with fresh pleasure. Belon has the knack of making you feel that he is talking to you about the birds he has just seen; the Vultures that soar around the volcanic hills of Auvergne; the Wall-Creepers that zigzag about the precipices; the Ptarmigan that frequent the high Alps; and many other fowls of divers orders. His prose is full of chit-chat. At one moment he describes the anatomy of some uncommon bird; at the next he is telling you how to cook a Hoopoe, or something equally irrelevant to the theme upon which he was gravely discoursing an instant ago. He was interested by two species of birds which he found in England; for of course he visited England, like Clusius and other contemporary naturalists. The first species, which was new to Belon, was the Norfolk Plover; the other was the Cornish Chough. When he recrossed the Channel he searched for Norfolk Plover, and found that this species was common to France as well as Britain. The migration of birds constantly occupied his thoughts. He was much impressed by the sight of Quail migrating across the Mediterranean. His remarks upon the migratory habits of Pelicans are very interesting; but, indeed, he was a delightful raconteur, and could entertain you with some pleasant reminiscence of almost every European bird. His untimely death by the hand of an assassin in the Bois de Boulogne, at Paris, was one of the saddest events of the sixteenth century. Our French confrères have reason to be proud of Pierre Belon, of Le Mans.
​Conrad Gesner fully shared Belon's love of wild birds. He was a student of the anatomy of birds—as much so as Belon, and more perhaps than Aldrovandi, because Aldrovandi generally persuaded a professional anatomist to act as his prosector. But Conrad was also a good field-observer, with eyes and ears trained to detect the passage of migrating flocks. He took a great interest in the rarer birds of the Swiss cantons. He was cognizant of two or three breeding stations of the Black Stork, one of which was in the neighbourhood of Lucerne.
Gesner was well informed regarding the habits of the Black Stork, which he describes as nesting in trees, usually pine-trees. He dissected one of these birds which had been procured near Zurich. It had been feeding upon beetles and other insects. He remarks that this Stork had a fishy smell; such a bird should first be boiled, and then stuffed with herbs. The flesh was good and sweet, but the skin proved tough. Very pleasant reading is afforded by Gesner's account of the Bustard. The Great Bustard was not a common bird in Switzerland in the sixteenth century. Nevertheless, several of the birds which Gesner examined had been killed near Zurich, or near Coire, in the Tyrol. Conrad had the curiosity to weigh a couple of Bustards. One of these birds scaled nine pounds twelve ounces; the other turned the scales at thirteen pounds and a half. The stomachs of these birds were filled with vetches, but Bustards which had been killed in heavy snow contained pebbles and the bark of trees. Conrad Gesner was told that Bustards were "permultos in Anglia," but whether he owed this piece of information to John Falconer, Thomas Gybson, John Estwyck, to Turner, or Dr. Caius, has not apparently been solved. Gesner corresponded with all five of these British naturalists.
Gesner examined many other birds of local interest—such, for example, as a Spoonbill killed near Zurich in the month of September. The early nesting proclivities of the Crossbill were as well known to this great Swiss as its variations of plumage. He studied the seasonal changes of the Ptarmigan. Friends at a distance often sent birds to be described by Gesner—e.g. the Stilt, the Purple Waterhen, the Pin-tailed Sand-Grouse. The most remarkable perhaps of all his discoveries was that the rare Bald-headed Ibis, now lost to Europe, nested on the lofty walls ​of ruined castles in Switzerland. He carefully details the breeding stations, including one situated on the promontory of Pola, on the Adriatic, explaining how a man was lowered over the edge of the precipice with a rope, in order to take the young birds, which were esteemed great delicacies by epicures. He supplies precise particulars of the life-history of this little-known Ibis, and furnishes its provincial names. Young Ibises were taken from their nests before they could fly, in order that they might become tame and attractive pets. A dead Ibis, which Gesner had an opportunity of dissecting, proved to have been feeding upon certain insects that affect the roots of standing corn. Notwithstanding the heavy strain of his general literary labours, Gesner sustained his lively interest in ornithology to the close of his life. He tells us that "in the past year we first heard Cranes migrating on the 11th of September, one hour before nightfall; but in the year 1561 we heard Cranes passing through the air at four in the afternoon, and at nine at night, on the 17th of October, the weather being very mild."
It was the introduction of the plague into Europe which brought a great public sorrow to the Zurichers in the year 1565. The fatal carbuncle appeared on the left side of the victim, near the heart. It was in a dangerous position, but was not accompanied by fever. As many of those who were attacked by this terrible malady had already succumbed to its ravages, Gesner took leave of his acquaintances, confided his personal wishes to his most intimate friend, Henry Bullinger, and prepared for the worst. His chief anxiety was to give as little trouble as possible. "Sic qui in vita multis commodus, molestus fuit nemini." About eleven at night, when he felt that the end was near, he summoned his wife, and expressed a wish to be carried into his museum. His desire was gratified, and a little later he gently passed away—"atque paulo post illic in manibus uxoris, inter pias preces, leniter die decima tertia Decembris exspiravit."
Aldrovandi was a man of active habits, fond of field-work, and a careful observer. He was also the centre of a large circle of friends, who admired his enormous learning, and delighted to present him with rare or unexpected specimens. It is charming to read of the gifts which poured in on him—now a beautiful Greenland Falcon, which had died at Rome, and was considered ​a great rarity; then a nest of young Golden Orioles; now a Bohemian Waxwing; and again a fine male of the Great Bustard. The donation of the latter bird was a great joy to the old naturalist. He induced his friend Auranti to dissect the bird, and figured the gular pouch, "qua se in vastam capacitatem insinuat," thus anticipating the labours of John Hunter and other more recent anatomists. The truth is that Aldrovandi often anticipated the so-called discoveries of his successors. Gmelin takes the credit of having discovered the White-collared Flycatcher in 1788, but it was figured and described by Aldrovandi. In the same way the elder Brehm enjoys the honour of having discovered the Firecrest in 1820, though Di Valli figured the species in 1601; while Olina not only figured it again in 1622, but described it—"sopra l'occhio ha una machietta biancha." Aldrovandi figured the black-chinned variety of the Brambling, though it was described as novel by the late Mr. Dawson Bowley. There are many things we might learn from the naturalists of the Renaissance. Read the account which Aldrovandi gives of his visiting a colony of Egrets and other aquatic birds in the Italian marshes, and then compare it with the late Mr. Seebohm's description of the same birds nesting on the Danube. The two accounts are identical in purpose, and not very dissimilar in style. Aldrovandi was the only one of the four great naturalists of his century who lived to a great age. Belon was cut off at forty-five, Gesner died at forty-eight, Turner had apparently reached sixty-one when he ceased from 'The Huntynge of the Romishe Wolfe.' Aldrovandi long survived all his rivals, and finally passed away in his eighty-fifth year, poor in substance, but rich in the esteem of his fellow-countrymen, who gave his mortal remains a magnificent public funeral. He had spent all his money in the preparation of his great works, and had been compelled to accept the favours of opulent patrons; but he had performed a noble service to zoology. His name will never be erased from the list of those who helped to feed the flame of scientific research during the stormy and eventful years which followed the birth of the New Learning in Europe.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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