A bird report from 1919, plus a Wonderful Visit from H.G. Wells

Trying to discover something more of the history of the land now known as the Exchange Lands - or Aldersbrook Exchange Lands, which is slightly more descriptive - I came across the following passage from the Medical Officer of Health's Report of 1919 relating to Wanstead Sewage Works:

All the work on the farm is carried on practically without noise, and as the Council have thoughtfully forbidden the use of guns the place has become a bird sanctuary. I have seen on the farm in my time the following less common birds : the Kingfisher, the teal and mallard ducks, the snipe, the heron, many varieties of finches, sand martins, pied and yellow wagtails, and partridges. One of the older men on the farm has told me that the former farm manager captured a "golden heron." This may have been a specimen of the bittern.

Some fifteen years earlier H.G. Wells had written a fantasy novel - although that term would not have been in use then - called The Wonderful Visit. I won't go into the plot, suffice to say that it contains satirical elements and describes and to some extent mocks some of the Victorian values of the time. This passage from the novel may have been just as prophetic as some of Wells' science-fiction novels:

H.G. Wells on collecting specimens, from The Wonderful Visit published in 1895 -

If it were not for collectors England would be full, so to speak, of rare birds and wonderful butterflies, strange flowers and a thousand interesting things. But happily the collector prevents all that, either killing with his own hands or, by buying extravagantly, procuring people of the lower classes to kill such eccentricities as appear. It makes work for people, even though Acts of Parliament interfere. In this way, for instance, he is killing off the Chough in Cornwall, the Bath White butterfly, the Queen of Spain Fritillary; and can plume himself upon the extermination of the Great Auk, and a hundred other rare birds and plants and insects. All that is the work of the collector and his glory alone. In the name of Science. And this is right and as it should be; eccentricity, in fact, is immorality—think over it again if you do not think so now—just as eccentricity in one's way of thinking is madness (I defy you to find another definition that will fit all the cases of either); and if a species is rare it follows that it is not Fitted to Survive. The collector is after all merely like the foot soldier in the days of heavy armour—he leaves the combatants alone and cuts the throats of those who are overthrown. So one may go through England from end to end in the summer time and see only eight or ten commonplace wild flowers, and the commoner butterflies, and a dozen or so common birds, and never be offended by any breach of the monotony, any splash of strange blossom or flutter of unknown wing. All the rest have been "collected" years ago.

The Chough - happily - has returned to Cornwall, its presence there for many years being only on the Cornish Coat of Arms. They nested there until 1952 and its final demise was hastened by it becoming more and more of a prize for egg-collectors and other trophy hunters. It wasn't until 2001 that four returned to take up residence and there has been a gradual increase since then, with lots of volunteers keeping a look-out for eggers and the like.

The Bath White Butterfly is an extremely rare migrant and appears always to have been so. Similarly, the Queen of Spain Fritillary is known now as an extremely rare migrant to Britain, though it may never have been much more than that even in its heyday when it was seen in every year from 1818 until 1885. Mind you, if every one seen was caught...

The Great Auk had a most peculiar end in Britain. Three sailors from St. Kilda spotted the bird on a nearby rock stack, saw that it was evidently different from the other sea-birds they were used to, and caught it. They kept it alive for four days, but on the fourth day a storm blew up and the superstitious sailors feared that it was caused by the bird. They called it " A maelstrom-causing witch" and stoned it to death! It has never come back.

In the main, we don't treat our witches like that any more, at least not in Britain. And there has also been a change in values regarding collecting of specimens - at least just for the sake of collecting. We can now keep our collections in the form of digital photographs. I've always liked the idea "Take only photos, leave only footprints", and many of us are at least attempting to do something like that now. I try to do this whenever possible, and particularly regarding animals - however "lowly" they may be (or appear to be). As for collecting, there is a strong argument that it is necessary at times to take specimens, particularly to determine species or for other scientific studies. However, I prefer to stick to the photos and try to leave the animals undisturbed - or at least not too alarmed. It is probably a lot easier to edit a photo as part of a collection than dismantle an animal to determine species or prepare a biological specimen anyway.

It's nice to know that even in this busy, populated and relatively polluted part of England, we can still find more than the "eight or ten commonplace wild flowers, and the commoner butterflies, and a dozen or so common bird" that Wells mentioned. I suspect that it is the quantity of flowers, insects and birds that we are missing. That is no longer due to collecting, but the way we are treating our land and our environment as a whole.

Paul Ferris, 31st January 2016