Practical taxidermy

by Montagu Browne

The work of these "copyright" groups — excepting the foliage, which was rather "stiff" — was, however, very clean and nice, and favourably compared with work by other taxidermists, many of whose "pieces" — as the Americans say — should have been refused on the score of pretentious incompetence.

There was one detestable exhibit, all the more grievous as being professional. No wonder that people, seeing this sort of thing, should laugh at fish and bird "stuffing." As I looked and wondered, I felt that a first-class assortment of injurious epithets applied to such "work" would have relieved my perturbed spirit.

This digression puts me in mind of another, and that is to warn the amateur not to "know too much," and think he has nothing to learn directly he can set up a bird or mammal, or anything else, in a fairly respectable manner. The people who know everything, and imagine they cannot be taught, are just the people who know very little and who will never learn more. "Duffers" they are, and "duffers" they will be, to the end of their days. Every sensible man, even should he rival Methusaleh — which heaven forfend! — must be learning Art (even should he teach) all his life.

Make haste to learn, therefore, from anyone who can give you a hint, and don't set yourself up (or down) in some obscure country town and fancy you are great. Come out into the world, measure yourself against the best, criticise your own work as if it were a stranger's. Be honest, and say, "That man's work knocks mine into a cocked hat," and then go home miserable, but determined to beat that man's work or perish in the attempt. Never sneak! If you see first-class work by anyone, go boldly and say, "Sir, I am an amateur," or, "I am a young professional," as the case may be. "Your work interests and delights me. May I look around?" Doubtless, the person addressed will be flattered by your appreciation, and, unless narrow-minded, will exchange views with you to your benefit.

Let us return to our theme. Amongst the water birds, then, we may instance herons with young as making a nice group, moorhens leading out their young on water under a mossy bank and so on; and this brings us to the question of mounting pairs of birds, with their nests and eggs, or nests and young.

GROUPS OF BIRDS AND YOUNG, WITH MODELLED FOLIAGE — Nothing in taxidermy requires more correct mounting and taste, and nothing is more charming, if properly done, than illustrating the life-history of, say, a pair of birds with their nest and young. Take any birds you like — sparrows or robins — and, if you know anything, you may "invest with artistic merit" even such common specimens as these. There is a certain fascination in young things which, I suppose, calls up all the kindly feelings of our nature, and so it is that young birds tended by their parents are groups which appeal the most to the finer senses, besides being really educative if worked out properly.

I remember, quite twenty years ago, when a boy, seeing a collection of nearly all the "British" birds, their nests and eggs, for sale, so that the idea is not a new one, nor is that of surrounding such groups, with proper accessories and modelled leaves and flowers, as will shortly be exhibited to the public in the new "British" Natural History Room at South Kensington, and as is now exhibited in the Leicester Museum. I remember getting foliage done for me many years ago for such groups, and I believe Mr. Shaw, of Shrewsbury, did it long before I copied his lead. Who was the original inventor of this system I know not, but I shrewdly suspect we have to thank French artists for this. Let it be thoroughly understood that I do not intend to disparage the beautiful work done for South Kensington by the various gentlemen and artists interested, but I merely point the adage, "Nothing new under the sun."

Of course, when I say "modelled foliage" I do not allude to stamped leaves in various materials, sold at so much (or so little) a gross, and used to "decorate" "boxes of birds" in the "Black Country" quite fifty or sixty years ago, but that which has arisen on its ashes in response to the cry for "more art," and because of the impossibility of getting any other natural flowers than "everlasting," or any other leaves than those of grasses and ferns (mentioned in the last chapter), to dry for decorative, or, as we say, "fitting up" purposes.

To describe the processes involved in copying leaves and flowers of any plant from nature, so that all will appear perfectly life-like and yet be durable, and stand exposure to moderate heat and cold, would take up too much space, added to which, my personal knowledge of all is required in this is of such recent acquirement, that, although I have fairly succeeded in teaching myself modelling of this kind, and have executed a few groups, yet I would like a little more time to elapse ere I pose as a teacher; but, no doubt, when the time comes, someone — perhaps the publisher of "Practical Taxidermy" — may be induced to give the results of my labours to the class most interested.

I may instance some groups: Robin's nest, in bank covered with ivy, and primroses in flower, the old female bird feeding the young, the male searching for more food, or singing on branch near nest; long-tailed titmice, in furze-bush (South Kensington); chiff-chaff, in long grass, surrounded by willow-herb; chaffinches in blossoming hawthorn; white-throat's nest, with young, surrounded by leaves and flowers of the bramble (Leicester Museum); blue-tits, in apple-tree with modelled foliage and flowers; moorhens swimming, with young just leaving nest, surrounded with water-lilies, flowering rush, and other plants; grouse and young; swallows, in section of cow-house, with plants, etc.., growing on roof (Leicester Museum); grebes and nest, amid marsh plants and marsh marigold in flower, etc.. (South Kensington).