Heroes of science

by P. Martin Duncan

“Silently and regularly we moved on this our last short night-march in the dark, tranquil night of the 16th, and, passing through the gates, reached the quay. The names of our respective transports had previously been explained to us, my own being the brig Reward, which I found to be from Sunderland. I was on deck as light dawned, and then at once saw the danger of the position of this miserable little transport, as well as of a dozen or more of the same craft. They had been foolishly allowed to anchor immediately under the tongue of high land which forms the eastern side of the harbour, and on which there were no land defences. Knowing that this ground was only a continuation of the hilly track on which my division had marched a few hours before, and being certain that the French would with the peep of day pass over our old bivouac to this promontory, I at once urged our skipper to get up his anchor betimes. But the grog had, I suppose, been strong that night. He exclaimed, ‘Why, I tell you, the brave Highlanders are there; they have not come away like you folks.’ Scarcely had he spoken when a battery of field-pieces opened their fire and sent some balls through our rigging. Turning pale as death under the fire of these mere field-pieces, and seeing that his crew were ready to run below, he applied the axe to the cable, and in a few minutes we were drifting away as we best could. The wind being from the east, we were fast approaching the rocks on which the Castle of Antonio stands, and on which at least five transports similarly circumstanced to my own were wrecked, the men being saved with difficulty, after losing their arms, colours, and baggage.

“I have often reflected on the extraordinary want of all due arrangement on the part of our admiral, in command of a splendid fleet, who allowed those miserable transports to anchor in such a position without placing a frigate or two near them to silence the puny battery and prevent the dismay which seized the skippers.

“Not missing stays, the Reward floated away, and was soon going fast before a strong nor’-easter, with the rest of the fleet helter-skelter for the Channel.”

In 1815 Murchison met Charlotte Hugouin, the daughter of General Hugouin, and as she was attractive, piquante, clever, and highly educated, she made a conquest of the gallant soldier. They were soon married, at Buriton, in Hampshire.

Hitherto he had lived at his own free will. From this time he came under the influence of a thoughtful, cultivated, and affectionate woman. Quietly and imperceptibly that influence grew, and she led him, with true womanly tact, into a sphere of exertion where his uncommon powers might find full scope. To his wife he owed his fame, as he never failed gratefully to record; but years had to pass before her guidance had accomplished what she had set before her as her aim.

Tired of the army, and possessing a great amount of energy and physical power, Murchison longed for a profession, and at one time seriously contemplated entering the Church. But money was scarce, and he went with his wife to live economically in Italy. This was an epoch in his life, and he went by way of Paris, and there he heard Cuvier lecture. At Geneva he met De Candolle, and as his wife had relatives at Vevay, they spent some time there, and Murchison began taking walking tours. On one occasion he walked four hundred and thirty-two miles over mountain ground, in fourteen days, finishing with a last day’s walk of thirty-seven miles. In another excursion to Mont Blanc he walked one hundred and twenty miles in three days. This was characteristic of the man. But it was not simple exercise that he took, for his retentive memory and eye for landscape were occupied; and such walks always produced good results in after years.

Arrived at Rome they went into lodgings, and Murchison became a confirmed visitor of galleries, museums, and churches. Then Mrs. Murchison fell ill, and they went, on her recovery, to Naples, where, of course, Vesuvius was seen, but oddly enough, his written impressions of the scene do not tell of any geological tastes. Two years glided away, and they founded his intellectual life, and impressed him that it was better than gaiety. When returned to England, Murchison sold his Scotch estate and went to live in a most out of the way old mansion at Barnard Castle, in Durham. Then there was no art, and therefore Murchison became a sportsman, and for five years rode as hard and as well to the front as any of his fox-hunting friends. Every now and then some intellectual society was enjoyed at some of the great houses of the neighbourhood, and Murchison made the acquaintance of Sir Humphrey Davy. Mrs. Murchison did not care about the everlasting hunting, and tried, in her wise manner, to wean him from the purposeless life he was leading. She knew botany, and tried to interest her husband in it, but he did not care for it; then she tried to learn mineralogy to get him to help her. But Murchison got deeper and deeper into the love of field sports, and took a house at Melton Mowbray and hunted six days in the week. Murchison got tired at last, and having met Sir Humphrey Davy again, was advised by him to interest himself about chemistry. So Murchison sold his horses and gave up his establishment, really intending to settle in London. But probably want of means prevented his having an establishment in the West End at first, so he led a less active but still sporting life in the south of Scotland for some time.

Murchison was now to change his method of life completely, and the summer of 1824 saw the last of his rambles, wherever the rocks around him made no direct and urgent appeal to him. Bringing his wife to London, they rented a house in Montague Place, and Murchison began to attend scientific lectures, and especially those on geology, which was at that time much talked about. Hutton’s admirable views of the causes of the changes on the surface of the earth, and their possible comparison with those of the present day, was making progress, but was still antagonized by the notions of sudden convulsions and great underground movements. He went to the Geological Society, a young and ardent one, which had sprung into active work in spite of the opposition of the nursing mother of science, the Royal Society.

With hearing lectures on science, scientific papers and discussions, attending evening soirées, and the opportunity of hearing and talking to men who had already made themselves famous, Murchison found enough fully to fill up his time, and to make London life a very different thing to him from what it had been in the old days, when he used to escape to town from the monotony of a country barrack. With his characteristic ardour, he had not completed his first winter’s studies in geology before he longed to be off into the field to observe for himself.