The Podocerus capillatus, to which Mr. Bate repeatedly directed Edward’s attention, is a very interesting Crustacean. It is about a quarter of an inch long. It is beautifully variegated, and builds its nests in a very bird-like manner in submarine forests. Edward found it in the rock-pools off Banff, where it built its nests on Corallina officinalis. The nest consists chiefly of a fine thread-like material woven and interlaced. The form of the nest is somewhat oval, the entrance being invariably at the top. “These nests,” says Mr. Bate, “are evidently used as a place of refuge and security, in which the parent protects and keeps her brood of young until they are old enough to be independent of the mother’s care.” The accompanying illustration is taken from Messrs. Bate and Westwood’s book. In this case, the nests were built in Plumularia, off Polperro, Cornwall.
A few extracts from Mr. Norman’s and Mr. Bate’s letters will serve to show the numerous new species which Edward continued to forward to these eminent zoologists.
Mr. Norman (September 24, 1862) writes: “The Mysis I referred to in my last letter is undescribed; and I propose to call it Mysis longicornis. Might I be allowed to keep the specimen? I retain it at any rate for the present, in order to draw up a description and figure.
“I have made a most important discovery since I last wrote. On looking again at the specimens (of the Parasites taken by Edward from the Sun-fish) I find that I had confused two species together as Læmargus muricatus, and had passed by as the male of that species (looking at them only with the naked eye) a distinct species, which is new to Britain, and which I am at present unable to name.”
Mr. Norman wrote again (January 3, 1863): “Thanks for the Hyperia, which belongs to a different species to those you previously sent me. At present I cannot name them. The Annelid—a very curious fellow—I know nothing of. I will name the Sea-spider Nymphon. The treasure of the bottle was, however, the little white shrimp. It is new to Britain, and possibly to science. We will call it, at any rate for the present, Thysanopoda ensifera, New Species. The genus is a very interesting one, and only one species, Thysanopoda couchii, was previously known in our seas.”
A few days later Mr. Norman wrote to Edward: “I gladly accept your suggestion that the Thysanopoda should be called T. Batei (instead of ensifera), and I am as glad as you are to pay the compliment to Mr. Bate. . . . Your observations on the habits of the Thysanopoda are very interesting.”
Edward evidently supplied his correspondent with abundant examples, for, on the 27th of January 1863, Mr. Norman writes: “The parasite on the fin is Anchorella rugosa—not a common species. I hope you will procure more. The Pagurus cuanensis bore on its back an example of a highly interesting genus of parasitic Crustacea, Peltogaster. The specimens do not belong to the species hitherto recognised in our seas; perhaps they are still undescribed.”
Mr. Bate also wrote to Edward during the same month of January: “I think that your last long-legged shrimp may be a new genus. If so, I propose calling it Polledactylos. . . . There are other things of much interest also. Do try what you can do in the way of collecting specimens of the young of crabs, etc. Your species of Stenothoë clypeatus is new to Britain.”
During the next few months Edward was in constant communication with Mr. Bate and Mr. Norman, who named for him an immense number of Crustacea. Many of them were new to Britain; some of them were new to science. On March 6th Mr. Bate writes: “The little fellow was a Pettidium purpureum. The long-legged Mysis are handsome chaps. The second is, I think, Œdiceros sasignatus: if so, it is the first taken in Britain.” Again, shortly after, Mr. Bate asks, “Do you recollect a little fellow just like this? [giving a diagram]. I never saw the like of it before. Where did you get it? Do get me more! Is it a wood-borer? I am afraid that you will scold me when I tell you that I have not yet examined the green bottle which you sent me previously. I am just in the midst of describing a number of Crustacea put into my hands, belonging to the Boundary Commission between America and British Columbia. When I finish this work I will write to you again.”
A few days later Mr. Bate examines the green bottle, and writes a letter to Edward, in which he gives him the names of seventeen Crustacea which it contained. Mr. Bate was as voracious for further discoveries, as Edward himself was. In a letter of 10th December 1863, after giving an account of the various works on which he was engaged, he says: “Now, because I am working hard in the path that you love so well and labour so industriously in, and so adding to your own fame, do not say that I don’t deserve the results of your researches.”
Fame! that “imagined life in the breath of others”! What could fame do for poor Edward? What about his bread and cheese?
Curiously enough, the letter last mentioned did not at first reach Edward. It was re-posted by Mr. Bate, with the observation, “This has just come back to me as a returned letter, because Banff was unknown at the Post-office.”
Mr. Norman also continued to furnish Edward with the names of his various Crustacea, though he could not name some of them. For instance, on the 13th May 1863, he wrote to Edward: “The shrimps you have sent completely puzzle me. I must wait for a time until I can solve the mystery. I believe that they all belong to one species, yet there are three, if not four, distinct forms. The general characters are so much the same, that I cannot think there are two species. . . . But the curious thing is, that I have not yet seen a single specimen of the species carrying eggs. I hope that you will yet find some, as it will be most interesting to clear up not only the question of sex, but also to find out the manner in which the eggs are carried. These forms are amongst the most interesting things I have seen for a long time, because it would almost seem as though we had a Crustacean with three phases, just as the bee has—male, female, and worker.” After giving a number of names, Mr. Norman proceeds: “And lastly, the parasite from the Common Gurnard is a species new to Britain.”
In his next letter Mr. Norman informs Edward that he is again going to Shetland on a dredging expedition with his friend Mr. Jeffreys. They are to go in a steamer, and “ought to do good work.” How Edward envied them—going dry-footed, well fed, well-clad, and in a steamer,—while he was working along shore, with no tools, but his hands and his bag-net.
Mr. Norman returned from Shetland in July, and immediately recommenced his correspondence with Edward. “One of your shrimps,” he said, “is Caligus isonyx, new to our Fauna, and a very interesting one it is. The male is as yet unknown. I hope you may succeed in meeting with it.” Towards the end of the year Edward forwarded a number of species new to Britain,—amongst others Eurycercus hamellatus (obtained from the stomach of the perch), Chondracantha solex, Mysis mixta, and others. In one bottle of Crustaceans three new species were found. The zoologists were evidently in ecstasies. Mr. Norman exhibited the results of his researches at the next meeting of the British Association. In a letter, dated the 15th September 1863, he observed: “I enclose a list of fifteen Moray Firth Amphipoda, which you have found, and which are unknown to me. If you now, or at any future time, should be able to favour me with specimens of any of them, I shall be extremely obliged.” The specimens were afterwards sent to Mr. Norman.
On the 6th of February 1864 Mr. Bate wrote to Edward: “You will be glad to learn that your little specimen is Opis Essichtii, and that it has not been found previously in Britain. I have reconsidered the little Hyperia, and think that you are right; your remarks convince me that my first opinion was the more correct. You will therefore call it Hyperia Medusarum.”
Mr. Bate was then publishing in parts his work on The Sessile-eyed Crustacea. He sent Edward the several parts as they appeared. About the beginning of 1855 Mr. Bate says: “You will soon get a new part of Crustacea, and then you will find that all my time and attention has been occupied with the Isopods. So do try and look out for some of these, and leave the Amphipods alone for a little while.”
And again: “Please never apologise for writing to me about Natural History. We have now been such long correspondents, that unless I hear from you now and then, I begin to fancy myself forgotten. Your letters always give me pleasure. The crustacean that you speak of is a Vibilia, the first taken in the British Islands. Please let me know its habitat, and as much of its habits as you can.”
In the meantime Mr. Norman was appealing to him for specimens of the Echinoderms, as he was about to prepare a paper on the subject. “I want your aid,” he said; “I know you will kindly give it me. The Urothoes are extremely difficult, and I want specimens from as many parts of the coast as possible, of all varieties and sizes, and from all depths of water. Will you collect for me some from your neighbourhood, from young to the largest size of all you can meet with, keeping distinct those from the shore and those from the deep water? It is important that they should be well preserved. . . . Please get the specimens as soon as possible, and send them to me by rail.”
Edward obeyed the behests of his several correspondents. He searched the rock pools, fished with his bag-net along the shore, and found various new specimens, which he sent to his friends. But he could not find the Echinodermata in deep water, for he had no means of reaching them. He had no boat, no dredging apparatus. Perhaps his correspondents forgot—perhaps they never knew—that he was a poor hard-working man, labouring at his trade during the day, with only a few hours in the early morning and a few hours at night, which he was able to employ in their service.
Not only did he work for his correspondents so industriously, but he also worked for others to whom they referred him. Thus Mr. Norman desired him to send his Sponges to Mr. Bowerbank, and his Ascidians to Mr. Alder of Newcastle, who were engaged in working up these subjects. The investigators did not know—for none of them ever saw him—that Edward had the greatest difficulty in earning money enough to maintain his large family. Sometimes, in fact, he was on the brink of starvation. And yet he worked for his naturalist friends as willingly and as hardly, perhaps more hardly, than if he had been a gentleman of independent fortune.
When the History of the Sessile-eyed Crustacea came out, the assistance which had been rendered by Edward to Mr. Bate was fully and generously acknowledged. Let any one look over the book, and he will find of how much service Edward was to Mr. Bate while he was preparing the work for publication. Mr. Bate frequently speaks of Edward as “our valued, able, and close observer.” In addition to the references to Edward already mentioned, we may subjoin the following. In speaking of the Lysianassa longicornus, Mr. Bate says that it “has been forwarded to him by that obliging and indefatigable naturalist, Mr. Edward of Banff;” that his only specimen of Anonyx obesus has been sent to him by Mr. Edward; that the Phoxus Holbelli has been sent to him from Banff “by that indefatigable lover of nature, Mr. Edward;” that the species of Darwinia compressa was first taken by Mr. Edward at the entrance to the Moray Firth; that the first species of the Calliope Ossiani had been received from Mr. Edward, “from which specimen the original description in the catalogue in the British Museum has been drawn up.” Mr. Bate also stated that he only knew of the genus Eurisus through an imperfect specimen which had been taken by Mr. Edward in the Moray Firth, “the first and only British representative of the genus that we have seen.” So too with the genus Protomedia, of which “only two specimens were collected at Banff by Mr. Edward.” A moiety was obtained of the first species, which was called Protomedia hirsutimana. In the second case, the entire Crustacean was obtained, of which Mr. Bate made a drawing and description, and he named it Protomedia Whitei, “in compliment to Mr. Adam White, author of a popular history of the British Crustacea.” Only a single specimen of the Cratippus tenuipes was sent him by Mr. Edward, who knew nothing of its habits. Mr. Bate also stated that he “had only seen three specimens of the Phoxus fusticaudatus, which were discovered by his valued correspondent, Mr. Edward of Banff, attached to the brachiæ of the common Soldier Crab.”
Besides these discoveries, Edward found an immense variety of Crustaceans of other orders in the Moray Firth, which had never been found before. Some of these were new to Britain, some of them new to science. But we will not bewilder the reader by introducing the jaw-breaking names of the newly-discovered Crustaceans. We have thought it right, however, to mention a few of those introduced in Messrs. Bate and Westwood’s History of the Sessile-eyed Crustacea, for the purpose of confirming the statements which we have made as to the indefatigable enthusiasm of Edward in the pursuit of Natural History. It must also be mentioned that the Sessile-eyed Crustacea constitute only a single order, and that on the one side of them there are the Stalk-eyed Crustacea and on the other the Entomostraceous Crustacea.
There is one point, however, that must be referred to before we conclude this heavy chapter. The impression prevailed at one time that the Hyperiidæ were parasites of the Medusa or Jelly Fish. In 1862 Mr. Bate acknowledged the receipt of a Crustacean, which he denominated Hyperia medusarum. He said, “If I am correct, this is the first time that I have known it as British.” In a subsequent letter (23d December 1863), Mr. Bate said, “It is an interesting circumstance that you should have found the Hyperia and Lestrigonus free on the shore; inasmuch as they have previously only been known as inhabitants of the floating Medusa. I wish you would direct your attention further to the subject. . . . Hunt and be successful.”
The Rev. Mr. Norman also communicated with Edward about the same time, and informed him “that the Atylus is not a parasitical species, though there are some Crustacea (Hyperia) which are parasitical upon Medusa.”
Upon further investigation, Edward came to the conclusion that the Hyperia is no more the parasite of the Medusa, because it is sometimes found upon it,—than a crow is the parasite of a tree because it sometimes lights upon it. As Edward’s name was now frequently quoted in matters of Zoology, he thought that it might be of some use to give the results of his observations to the world on the subject. Hence the appearance of his “Stray Notes on some of the Smaller Crustaceans,” which shortly after appeared in the Journal of the Linnean Society.[50]
It is probable that the facts in that paper, as stated by Edward, had some influence on the minds of Professor Westwood and Mr. Spence Bate; as Hyperia medusarum does not appear in their list of Sessile-eyed Crustacea, the last part of which was published at the end of 1868.
To give an idea of the indefatigable industry of Edward in his researches among the Crustaceans, it may be mentioned, that of 294 found in the Moray Firth, not fewer than twenty-six new species were added by Edward himself!
At the same time that Edward was occupied in searching out new species of Crustaceans for Mr. Spence Bate and Mr. Norman, he was also collecting marine objects for other naturalists. He found numerous Star-fish, Zoophytes, Molluscs, and Sponges, which he sent to his naturalist correspondents to be named.
Edward always endeavoured to bring home the fishes, crustaceans, and other sea objects that he captured, alive; for the purpose of watching their manners and habits. He had always plenty of dishes in readiness, filled with sea-water,—some having sand on the bottom, some mud, some bits of gravel, and others bits of rock,—the latter being covered with Algæ or Zoophytes. Into one of these vessels he would put his living specimens, in order that he might watch and learn something of their various characteristics. Some of his observations were published in the Zoologist, and were regarded as highly interesting; many of them being new to science.
This could hardly have been otherwise, for it was his habit, first to observe, and then to kill. He never had any mercenary object in view in wandering about with his gun and his traps; he only desired to obtain knowledge; and what he observed he told as plainly and clearly as he could, without knowing whether his observations had been printed before or not. He only regretted that he had so little time to publish his descriptions of the habits of animals, fishes, and crustaceans.
One of Edward’s most delightful studies was that of the Star-fish. He published an article on the subject in the Zoologist. His object in doing so, he said, was to induce others to employ their spare time in discovering the Star-fishes found along the Banffshire coast, and to make them publicly known. “If this,” said he, “were done generally throughout the country, we might, ere long, be able to form something like an adequate notion of what we really do possess; but until that be done, we cannot expect to arrive at anything like a perfect idea of what our British Fauna consists of, or where the objects are to be found. Let Naturalists then, and observers of Nature everywhere, look to and note this, that all who can may reap the benefit.”
Edward was as enthusiastic about the Star-fish as he was about any other form of animated being. He would allow none of them to be called “common.” They were all worthy of the most minute investigation; and also worthy of the deepest admiration. Of the Daisy Brittle Stars (Ophiocoma bellis) he says: “They are the most beautiful of this beautiful tribe which I have ever seen. Their disks differ considerably from the Star-fishes ordinarily met with, being of a pyramidal or conical form, sometimes resembling the well-known shell Trochus tumidus. In colour, they are like the finest variegated polished mahogany; their disks exhibiting the most beautiful carved work. The rays are short in proportion to the size of the disk—strong, and closely beset with short, thick, hard spines. I may add that the specimens I allude to, were procured from that heterogeneous repository of marine objects, the stomach of a cod, which was taken about thirteen miles out at sea.”
Edward’s children also helped him to procure Star-fishes. “I remember,” he says, “my young friend Maggie, and three of her sisters, once bringing me a large cargo of the Granulated Brittle Star (Ophiocoma granulata)—nearly two hundred of them, which they had gathered up where the fishermen clean their lines. I remember being particularly struck with the numerous and brilliant colours displayed by the cargo, exhibiting, as they did, all those tints—perhaps more than it is possible to name—from the brightest scarlet down to the deepest black, scarcely two being alike. Their disks, too, were remarkably varied; some were of a perfect oval, whilst others were pentangular; some were flat, whilst others were in a measure pyramidal, and what, in truth, may be termed triangular in form.”
Of all his daughters, Maggie seems to have been the most helpful. She went down to Gardenston to obtain the refuse from the fishermen’s lines, to collect fish, crustacea, and such like, and send them home to her father by the carrier. She sometimes accompanied him along the coast as far as Fraserburgh and Peterhead. One evening, while Edward was partaking of his evening meal, Maggie entered and accosted him joyfully—“Father, I’ve got a new Star-fish t’ ye, wi’ sax legs!” “I hope so, Maggie,” he answered, “but I doubt it.” After he had finished his supper, he said, “Now, Maggie, let’s see this prodigy of yours.” After looking at it, “Just as I thought, Maggie,” said he, “it’s not a new species—it’s only an Ophiocoma Ballii, but rather a peculiar one in its way, having, as you said, ‘sax legs’ instead of five.”
Of the Rosy-Feather Star (Comatula roseacea)—which Edward had long been searching for, and at last found—he says: “What a pretty creature! but how brittle! and oh, how beautiful! Does any one wonder, as I used to do, when he hears of a stone-lily or of a lily-star, as applied to this genus? Then let him get a sight of a Crenard-star, and sure I am that his surprise will give place to admiration. And how curious! It was once supposed to have been the ’most numerous of the ocean’s inhabitants,’ whereas now there are only about a dozen kinds to be found alive,—one only in the British seas, and that but rarely met with. Well, I am proud to be able to record its occurrence on the Banffshire coast. The specimen I allude to, was taken from the stomach of a cod.”
But still more wonderful is that rare species, the Great Sea-Cucumber (Cucumaria frondosa), the king of the Holothuridæ family, found on the Banffshire coast. Edward’s specimen was brought up on the fishermen’s lines. “When at rest,” he says, “it is fully sixteen inches long. It is of a very deep purple on all except the under side, which is greyish. It is a most wonderful, and at the same time a most interesting animal. What strange forms and curious shapes it assumes at will! Now it seems like a pear, and again like a large purse or long pudding. Sometimes it has the appearance of two monster potatoes joined endways,—from which it diverges into a single bulb, with no suckers visible; and again it looks as long as my arm, rough and warty-looking. Its tentacula too, how curious they are! Simple to appearance, yet how complete and how beautiful withal. What strange forms and what beauteous creatures and inconceivable things there are in the ocean’s depths! What a pity it is that we cannot traverse its hidden fields and explore its untrodden caverns!”
Edward found numerous Zoophytes along the coast, which excited his admiration almost as much as the Star-fish. Of one species, called “dead-men’s paps, sea-fingers, etc.” (Alcyonium digitatum), he says, “It is frequently brought ashore by the fishermen, attached to shells and stones. It is curious to observe the strange and fantastic forms which these creatures at times assume. They are loathed by the generality of people when found on the sands. But were they to be seen in their proper element, with the beautiful leaf-like tentacula of the little polyps, thousands of which compose the living mass, these feelings of loathing would give place to wonder and delight. Touch one of those polyps, and it instantly contracts and withdraws its tentacles, while the others continue their movements. But touch them again and again, and they will shrink and hide themselves in their fleshy home, which becomes greatly reduced in bulk. Wait a little, and you will observe the pap assume its natural size, and the surface will appear roughish and covered with small protuberances. From these asperities the numerous polyps may now be noticed, slowly, and almost imperceptibly, emerging one by one; and having gained a sufficient height, their slender and fragile arms, or tentacula, will also be observed cautiously expanding, which, when nearly fully developed, gives to the whole mass the enchanting appearance of a bouquet of flowers of the richest dye, or of a gaudy-coloured wreath of beautiful and delicate blossoms, combined in one cluster, enough to excite wonder and admiration even in the dullest mind.”
Without following Edward farther in his description of the Zoophytes, we may proceed to state that he was for some time engaged in collecting Molluscs for Mr. Alder of Newcastle, who was engaged in writing a paper on the subject. Having observed the great number of Tunicata, or acephalous Molluscs, found upon the fishermen’s lines, Edward proceeded to collect and examine these lower productions of marine life. As usual, he wished to have them named, and he sent a large number of specimens to Mr. Alder for the purpose. Some of Mr. Alder’s letters have been preserved, from which a few extracts are subjoined:—
“I have received yours of the 16th inst. (October 1864), and also two parcels of Ascidians. I shall be most happy to receive and name for you any Tunicata you may send. Our communications may be mutually advantageous, as I should like to have information concerning the Tunicata of your coast, being engaged upon a work on the British species. In the first parcel that came, I could only find one specimen, though you mention parts of two or three. It was, I think, a Botryllida encrusting the stem of a seaweed, but of what species I cannot say. In the second parcel, received this morning, there is a piece of Leptoclinum punctatum, and also part of an Ascidian which appears to be A. parallelogramma. The Botryllida are very difficult to distinguish unless they are quite fresh. I have never heard of Aplidium lobatum being found in this country. It is a Red Sea and Mediterranean species. . . . I am much obliged to my friend Mr. Norman for recommending you to send specimens to me, and I shall be glad to hear from you again.”
The specimen of Aplidium lobatum which Edward sent to Mr. Alder, was cast ashore at Banff; though its usual habitat is the Indian Ocean, the Red Sea, and the Mediterranean.
In a future letter Mr. Alder says: “I received your box containing a specimen of Ascidia sordida (young), and also a Zoophyte, the Alcyonidium gelatinosum, for which accept my thanks. I see that you have been very successful in discovering small fish. Your account of them is very interesting. I wish any one on our coast would pay attention to these things, but we have no one living permanently on the coast that cares anything about Natural History.”
Edward afterwards discovered a fine specimen of the Onychoteuthes Bartlingii or Banksii. It was the first met with in Britain,—the range of the species being said to be from Norway to the Cape and Indian Ocean. This specimen was found on the beach betwixt the mouth of the river Deveron and the town of Macduff. Doubtless many other specimens of this and other marine animals had been cast upon the beach before, but no one had taken the trouble to look for or observe them. Many, also, of the fishes and marine objects which Edward was the first to discover, had probably been haunting the Moray Firth for hundreds or thousands of years; but science had not yet been born in the district, and there were none who had the seeing eye and the observant faculties of our Banffshire Naturalist.
Edward also discovered a specimen of the Leptoclinum punctatum which had been thrown on shore during a severe storm. It was of a most beautiful greenish colour, variegated with steel blue. This specimen he sent to Mr. Alder, who answered him in the following letter:—“The Ascidian which you have sent me is a Leptoclinum, and may probably be a new species. There are few of that genus with star-shaped calcareous crystals embedded in them. The species that you have sent has the star-shaped crystals, and differs in colour from any I have seen, being of a greenish-blue colour. I put it into water to moisten it after it came, and it stained the water of a blue colour. I presume, therefore, that it would be of that colour when fresh. It seems, from the seaweed to which it is attached, to be a littoral species. I shall be glad of any other information which you can give me about it.”
This was the last letter Edward received from Mr. Alder. As he was about to send off another large cargo of Tunicata to Newcastle, containing three new species, he received notice of Mr. Alder’s sudden death; and knowing of no other person who could name his Ascidians, he ceased collecting them; although there is still a rich field for students of Mollusca along the Banffshire coast. “It is young, ardent, and devoted workers,” said Edward, “that are wanted to bring such things to light.”
We next proceed to mention Edward’s researches as to new fishes. Having discovered a specimen of Drummond’s Echiodon—the first that had ever been found in the Firth,—Edward published an account of it in the Zoologist for April 1863, and offered to afford Naturalists the opportunity of examining it. The article came under the notice of Mr. Jonathan Couch, of Polperro, in Cornwall, who was then engaged in writing his celebrated work on British Fishes; and he entered into a correspondence with Edward on the subject. The first letter that Mr. Couch wrote to Edward did not reach him. It was returned to Polperro. Banff seems not to have been known at the General Post Office. Another letter, with “N. B.” added, reached its address. Mr. Couch requested an inspection of the curious fish, together with an account of its exact colour when fresh from the sea, and also the particular circumstances, of weather or otherwise, under which so large a number of the fishes had been taken. The information asked for, was at once furnished by Edward. Dr. Gray also requested a specimen for the British Museum, which was forwarded to London.
Now that Edward had found another opening for his discoveries, he proceeded to send numerous new specimens of fish for Mr. Couch’s identification. Mr. Couch having informed him that he was then employed upon the Wrasses, Edward immediately began to search for Wrasses, and shortly after he despatched numbers of them to Polperro. Among the specimens of Wrass (labrus) which Edward sent to Mr. Couch, there was one which Cuvier described as being found only in New Guinea, on the farther side of the world. “And yet,” said Mr. Couch, after examining the fish, “I cannot suppose that fishes from New Guinea can have visited you.” The finding of this fish at New Guinea and at the Moray Firth furnished only another illustration of the scarcity of observers in Natural History; for it must certainly, like most other species, have existed in numerous other parts of the world besides these.
In describing his little fish, Edward says: “Although I cannot say much of importance concerning the traits of our little friend, still there is one which cannot be passed over in silence. It is this—on coming out of the water after I took the prize, I had occasion to lay it down upon the sand until a bottle was prepared for its reception and exclusive use, as I was anxious to take it home alive, so that I might see and learn as much of its habits as possible. Whilst thus employed, I was rather surprised at seeing it frequently leap several inches at a time. Thinking that the damp sand might have in some way or other aided the operation, when I got home I placed it on a dry board to see how it would perform there. It did just the same. Away it jumped, jump after jump, until I was fully satisfied that there was no difference as to place; after which I put him again into his little aquarium. I now observed, however, that the tail, which is pretty large, was the chief and most important object used. The head and shoulders were first raised a little, and then, by a doubling of the tail, which acted as a kind of spring, the animal was, by a slight jerk, enabled to raise and propel itself forward, or to either side, and not unfrequently right over. In the water, too, when touched with anything, instead of swimming away as fish generally do, it merely leaped or jerked to one side in order to avoid the annoyance. I am not exactly aware whether this gymnastic performance is a common propensity with this family of fishes or not, but it was so with this specimen.”
After further observations, Edward came to the conclusion that these little fishes were inhabitants of our own seas, but that they differed from those which Cuvier had described. He was of opinion that, from the differences which he had observed between the true Wrasses and the fish in question, it might yet be necessary, after further investigation, to place it in a new or sub-genus. In that case a portion of the name would require to be changed, and until then, Edward held that its name should be the “Microscopical Wrasse of the Moray Firth.”
Another batch of little fishes which Edward sent to Mr. Couch led to an interesting correspondence. Edward no sooner found an opening for further work on the sea-shore, than he went into it with enthusiasm. As Mr. Couch was approaching the conclusion of his work, Edward seemed to become more energetic than before. Thus Mr. Couch had written out and sent off his history and description of the Echiodon to be printed, before he knew of Edward’s discovery. And now there arrived from Banff another batch of specimens, containing a little fish, which Mr. Couch declared to be a new species, and even a new genus. At first he supposed it to be the Mackerel Midge, but after a careful examination, he declared it to be entirely new. Mr. Couch concluded his letter, containing his views as to the new fish, with these words:—“You will perceive that I set a great value on your communications, and I shall take care to acknowledge them when I speak of these different species.”
Edward, in his reply to Couch, observed: “I was aware that the new fish was not the Mackerel Midge, for I have examined it. But this is a far more splendid species; in fact, its colours and resplendence equal, if they do not excel, those of the pretty Argentine. The one I sent you first, I kept alive for two days. It was one of the most restless and watchful fishes I had ever seen. I took it with a small hand-net, which I use for taking the smaller crustaceans. I only took one at first; but a few days after, I took several together. I also found some cast ashore on the sands. Those that I send now are old and young. There is a little thing just out of the egg; it has the ovary sac still attached. Be kind enough, when you write me, to let me know the name of the fish.”
In replying to Edward, Couch said: “Your last box has reached me, with its contents in good order, for which I heartily thank you. I have already written an account of the fish. My intention is to give it the name of Couchia Thompsoni; and as I shall particularly refer to you, I think it may prove to your advantage to obtain as many specimens as possible, to answer any demands that may be made upon you. . . . The reason why I have not answered you sooner is, that I have been much distressed by the loss of my eldest son—an eminent surgeon, living at Penzance, in attendance on whom I was at that town for a fortnight. He was eminent in many departments of science, and was only forty-six years of age when he died. You may judge from this, that I have had but little disposition to active exertion for some time past. I submit, as he was able to do, to the will of God, but there is difficulty in saying from the heart, ‘His will be done.’”
Edward discovered the above new fish in May 1863. After a few weeks, it disappeared from the coast, and nothing further was seen of it until the following May, when Edward took a few specimens. It disappeared again, and reappeared towards the end of August. “As this,” he says, “was a lucky chance, and one not to be lost, I took a considerable number, not with the intention of destroying the beautiful little creatures—as beautiful they truly are,—but for the purpose of ascertaining how they now stood as to size. Being satisfied as to this, I committed the most of them again to their native element, and right glad they were to be set once more at liberty. I found that, although late in the season, they had not in any way increased in bulk, as compared with those which were taken in spring. From this important and opportune circumstance, too, it is now my firm and decided belief that their average length does not exceed an inch. It would seem that they are a deep-water fish, and, herring-like, only visit the shore occasionally. Like that fish, too, they are gregarious—that is, they go in small shoals. They seem to be about the fleetest, most active, and most vigilant of the finny tribes. Besides what I observed in the sea itself, I kept a number of them alive, placed in the window before me when at work, so that I had both the pleasure as well as the satisfaction of observing their habits at my leisure; and I was well repaid for my time and patience.”
So soon as this discovery became known to the scientific world, numerous inquiries were made to Edward for specimens of the “New Fish;” and amongst others, Dr. Gray sent for some specimens for the Home Department of the British Museum.
Edward continued to ply Mr. Couch with new species of fish. On the 5th September 1864, he said: “I herewith send you another small fish, which I hope you will give me your opinion upon at your leisure. I freely confess that I am at a loss about it. Although small, it is so well proportioned in every respect, so firm, and so compact, that I cannot believe it to be a young specimen. I took it about a fortnight since, in a small shoal of Thompson’s Midge; and though I have been netting each day since then, I have not yet met with another.”
Mr. Couch was equally at a loss with Edward. At first he said, “It appears to be a Wrass labrus, but it is not exactly like any of the known kinds.” In his next letter he said, “I think your little fish is the young of the Rock Goby.” This did not satisfy Edward. He answered that “the fish, though little, was a full-grown fish; and that it might possibly be one of Thompson’s Irish fish.” “No,” replied Couch; “it will be plain to you that it is not Irish from Mr. Thompson’s own description,” which he then gave. At last he thought it to be “the true Mackerel Midge.” He examined the little fish again, and finally came to the conclusion that it was a long-lost fish—Montagu’s Midge, or the Silvery Gade.
Colonel George Montagu was an old soldier and sportsman, who had flourished in Devonshire some seventy years before. Living in the country and by the sea-shore, his attention was directed to the pursuit of Natural History. At first it was his hobby, and then it became his study. He observed birds carefully; this was natural to him as a sportsman. He published an Ornithological Dictionary of British Birds. But his range of study broadened. The sea-shore always presents a great attraction for Naturalists. The sea is a wonderful nursery of nature. The creatures that live in and upon it are so utterly different from those which we meet with by land. Then, everything connected with the ocean is full of wonder.
Colonel Montagu was an extraordinary observer. He was a man who possessed the seeing eye. He forgot nothing that he once clearly saw. He was one of the best Naturalists, so far as logical acumen and earnest research were concerned, that England has ever seen. The late Professor Forbes said of him that “had he been educated a physiologist, and made the study of Nature his aim and not his amusement, his would have been one of the greatest names in the whole range of British science. There is no question about the identity of any animal that Montagu described. . . . He was a forward-looking philosopher; he spoke of every creature as if one exceeding like it, and yet different from it, would be washed up by the waves next tide. Consequently his descriptions are permanent.” We might also say of Edward, that although comparatively uneducated, he possessed precisely the same qualities of observing and seeing. Nothing that once came under his eyes was forgotten. He remembered, and could describe fluently and vividly, the form, habits, and habitats of the immense variety of animals that came under his observation.
Now, this Colonel Montagu had in 1808 discovered on the shore of South Devonshire the same Midge that Edward rediscovered in 1864 on the shore of the Moray Firth. Colonel Montagu had clearly and distinctly described the fish in the second volume of the Memoirs of the Wernerian Natural History Society; but he had not given any figure of it. He named it the Silvery Gade (Gadus argenteolus). The Colonel passed away, and with him all further notice of his fish. It was never again observed until, fifty-six years later, it was rediscovered by Edward. Future writers on British fishes ignored it. They believed that Colonel Montagu had been mistaken, and had merely described the young of some species already known. Even Mr. Couch, the most accomplished ichthyologist of his time, had swept it out of his list of British fishes. But Montagu was too close an observer to be mistaken. As Professor Forbes had said of him—“There is no question about the identity of any animal that he described; consequently his descriptions are permanent.”
Hence the surprise of Mr. Couch on receiving from Edward the identical fish that had so long been lost. “There is one of your little fishes,” he said in his reply to Edward’s letter, “that I am satisfied about, and the history of which is a matter of much interest. You are well acquainted with the little Mackerel Midge, first made known by myself, and which has been denominated Couchia glauca by Thompson. But previously to this, Colonel Montagu had published an account of a species much like it, but differing in having only two barbels on the snout. It does not appear that any figure was given, but he speaks of them as occurring in Devonshire, where he lived. No one has seen a fish which answers to his description since that time—I suppose more than fifty years ago; and it has been judged that some mistake was made, especially as he never gave a notice of the Midge with four barbels. Yet Montagu was a good Naturalist, and a correct observer. He calls his fish Silvery Gade; for he wrote before Cuvier made these fishes into a new genus, termed Motella. But your fish answers closely to Montagu’s lost fish. When I inform you that Montagu gives the number of rays in the fins, you may judge how closely he examined this fish. When my History of British Fishes is ended, I intend to give a few as a supplement, and as ascertained too late to fall into the regular order. This little fish will find a place there, when I shall take care to mention your name as its rediscoverer.”
In a notice which Edward afterwards gave of the fish he observed: “I may mention that this genus of little fishes, designated with the appellation of Midges from their small size, and containing three species, are now authentically known to be inhabitants of the Moray Firth, all three, both young and old of each, having been procured here,—a circumstance which perhaps can be said of no other single district but our own. This, not so much for the lack of the fish themselves, as from the want of searchers for these things; for we cannot allow ourselves to think for a single moment, that they could be found in so widely distant localities as Cornwall, Belfast, Devon, and here, and not be met with at intermediate places. Such a thing appears to me to be one of those affairs called impossibilities. Let those then who live on the coast, and have time and a mind for these things, or whether they have time or not, if they have the Will,—let such, I say, look better about them, and I doubt not but they will find many of these little gems, as well as other rarities of a similar and kindred nature.”