CHAPTER 1.I.--AN AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL FRAGMENT, AND EARLY LETTERS.

1809-1842.

(Chapter I./1. In the process of removing the remainder of Mr. Darwin's

books and papers from Down, the following autobiographical notes,

written in 1838, came to light. They seem to us worth publishing--both

as giving some new facts, and also as illustrating the interest which

he clearly felt in his own development. Many words are omitted in the

manuscript, and some names incorrectly spelled; the corrections which

have been made are not always indicated.)

My earliest recollection, the date of which I can approximately tell,

and which must have been before I was four years old, was when sitting

on Caroline's (Caroline Darwin) knee in the drawing room, whilst she was

cutting an orange for me, a cow ran by the window which made me jump, so

that I received a bad cut, of which I bear the scar to this day. Of this

scene I recollect the place where I sat and the cause of the fright,

but not the cut itself, and I think my memory is real, and not as

often happens in similar cases, [derived] from hearing the thing often

repeated, [when] one obtains so vivid an image, that it cannot be

separated from memory: because I clearly remember which way the cow ran,

which would not probably have been told me. My memory here is an obscure

picture, in which from not recollecting any pain I am scarcely conscious

of its reference to myself.

1813.

When I was four years and a half old I went to the sea, and stayed

there some weeks. I remember many things, but with the exception of the

maidservants (and these are not individualised) I recollect none of

my family who were there. I remember either myself or Catherine being

naughty, and being shut up in a room and trying to break the windows. I

have an obscure picture of a house before my eyes, and of a neighbouring

small shop, where the owner gave me one fig, but which to my great joy

turned out to be two: this fig was given me that the man might kiss the

maidservant. I remember a common walk to a kind of well, on the road

to which was a cottage shaded with damascene (Chapter I./2. Damson

is derived from Damascene; the fruit was formerly known as a "Damask

Prune.") trees, inhabited by an old man, called a hermit, with white

hair, who used to give us damascenes. I know not whether the damascenes,

or the reverence and indistinct fear for this old man produced the

greatest effect on my memory. I remember when going there crossing in

the carriage a broad ford, and fear and astonishment of white foaming

water has made a vivid impression. I think memory of events commences

abruptly; that is, I remember these earliest things quite as clearly as

others very much later in life, which were equally impressed on me. Some

very early recollections are connected with fear at Parkfield and with

poor Betty Harvey. I remember with horror her story of people being

pushed into the canal by the towing rope, by going the wrong side of the

horse. I had the greatest horror of this story--keen instinct against

death. Some other recollections are those of vanity--namely, thinking

that people were admiring me, in one instance for perseverance and

another for boldness in climbing a low tree, and what is odder, a

consciousness, as if instinctive, that I was vain, and contempt of

myself. My supposed admirer was old Peter Haile the bricklayer, and

the tree the mountain ash on the lawn. All my recollections seem to be

connected most closely with myself; now Catherine (Catherine Darwin)

seems to recollect scenes where others were the chief actors. When my

mother died I was 8 1/2 years old, and [Catherine] one year less, yet

she remembers all particulars and events of each day whilst I scarcely

recollect anything (and so with very many other cases) except being sent

for, the memory of going into her room, my father meeting me--crying

afterwards. I recollect my mother's gown and scarcely anything of

her appearance, except one or two walks with her. I have no distinct

remembrance of any conversation, and those only of a very trivial

nature. I remember her saying "if she did ask me to do something," which

I said she had, "it was solely for my good."

Catherine remembers my mother crying, when she heard of my grandmother's

death. Also when at Parkfield how Aunt Sarah and Aunt Kitty used to

receive her. Susan, like me, only remembers affairs personal. It is

sufficiently odd this [difference] in subjects remembered. Catherine

says she does not remember the impression made upon her by external

things, as scenery, but for things which she reads she has an excellent

memory, i.e., for ideas. Now her sympathy being ideal, it is part of her

character, and shows how easily her kind of memory was stamped, a vivid

thought is repeated, a vivid impression forgotten.

I remember obscurely the illumination after the battle of Waterloo,

and the Militia exercising about that period, in the field opposite our

house.

1817.

At 8 1/2 years old I went to Mr. Case's School. (Chapter I/3. A

day-school at Shrewsbury kept by Rev. G. Case, minister of the Unitarian

Chapel ("Life and Letters," Volume I., page 27 et seq.)) I remember how

very much I was afraid of meeting the dogs in Barker Street, and how

at school I could not get up my courage to fight. I was very timid by

nature. I remember I took great delight at school in fishing for

newts in the quarry pool. I had thus young formed a strong taste

for collecting, chiefly seals, franks, etc., but also pebbles and

minerals--one which was given me by some boy decided this taste. I

believe shortly after this, or before, I had smattered in botany, and

certainly when at Mr. Case's School I was very fond of gardening, and

invented some great falsehoods about being able to colour crocuses as I

liked. (Chapter I./4. The story is given in the "Life and Letters," I.,

page 28, the details being slightly different.) At this time I felt very

strong friendship for some boys. It was soon after I began collecting

stones, i.e., when 9 or 10, that I distinctly recollect the desire I had

of being able to know something about every pebble in front of the hall

door--it was my earliest and only geological aspiration at that time.

I was in those days a very great story-teller--for the pure pleasure of

exciting attention and surprise. I stole fruit and hid it for these same

motives, and injured trees by barking them for similar ends. I scarcely

ever went out walking without saying I had seen a pheasant or some

strange bird (natural history taste); these lies, when not detected,

I presume, excited my attention, as I recollect them vividly, not

connected with shame, though some I do, but as something which by having

produced a great effect on my mind, gave pleasure like a tragedy. I

recollect when I was at Mr. Case's inventing a whole fabric to show how

fond I was of speaking the TRUTH! My invention is still so vivid in my

mind, that I could almost fancy it was true, did not memory of former

shame tell me it was false. I have no particularly happy or unhappy

recollections of this time or earlier periods of my life. I remember

well a walk I took with a boy named Ford across some fields to a

farmhouse on the Church Stretton road. I do not remember any mental

pursuits excepting those of collecting stones, etc., gardening, and

about this time often going with my father in his carriage, telling him

of my lessons, and seeing game and other wild birds, which was a great

delight to me. I was born a naturalist.

When I was 9 1/2 years old (July 1818) I went with Erasmus to see

Liverpool: it has left no impressions on my mind, except most trifling

ones--fear of the coach upsetting, a good dinner, and an extremely vague

memory of ships.

In Midsummer of this year I went to Dr. Butler's School. (Chapter I./5.

Darwin entered Dr. Butler's school in Shrewsbury in the summer of 1818,

and remained there till 1825 ("Life and Letters," I., page 30).) I well

recollect the first going there, which oddly enough I cannot of going to

Mr. Case's, the first school of all. I remember the year 1818 well,

not from having first gone to a public school, but from writing those

figures in my school book, accompanied with obscure thoughts, now

fulfilled, whether I should recollect in future life that year.

In September (1818) I was ill with the scarlet fever. I well remember

the wretched feeling of being delirious.

1819, July (10 1/2 years old).

Went to the sea at Plas Edwards and stayed there three weeks, which now

appears to me like three months. (Chapter I./6. Plas Edwards, at Towyn,

on the Welsh coast.) I remember a certain shady green road (where I

saw a snake) and a waterfall, with a degree of pleasure, which must be

connected with the pleasure from scenery, though not directly recognised

as such. The sandy plain before the house has left a strong impression,

which is obscurely connected with an indistinct remembrance of

curious insects, probably a Cimex mottled with red, and Zygaena, the

burnet-moth. I was at that time very passionate (when I swore like a

trooper) and quarrelsome. The former passion has I think nearly wholly

but slowly died away. When journeying there by stage coach I remember a

recruiting officer (I think I should know his face to this day) at

tea time, asking the maid-servant for toasted bread and butter. I was

convulsed with laughter and thought it the quaintest and wittiest speech

that ever passed from the mouth of man. Such is wit at 10 1/2 years old.

The memory now flashes across me of the pleasure I had in the evening on

a blowy day walking along the beach by myself and seeing the gulls and

cormorants wending their way home in a wild and irregular course. Such

poetic pleasures, felt so keenly in after years, I should not have

expected so early in life.

1820, July.

Went a riding tour (on old Dobbin) with Erasmus to Pistyll Rhiadr

(Chapter I./7. Pistyll Rhiadr proceeds from Llyn Pen Rhiadr down the

Llyfnant to the Dovey.); of this I recollect little, an indistinct

picture of the fall, but I well remember my astonishment on hearing that

fishes could jump up it.

(Chapter I./8. The autobiographical fragment here comes to an end. The

next letters give some account of Darwin as an Edinburgh student. He

has described ("Life and Letters," I., pages 35-45) his failure to be

interested in the official teaching of the University, his horror at

the operating theatre, and his gradually increasing dislike of medical

study, which finally determined his leaving Edinburgh, and entering

Cambridge with a view to taking Orders.)

LETTER 1. TO R.W. DARWIN. Sunday Morning [Edinburgh, October, 1825].

My dear Father

As I suppose Erasmus (Erasmus Darwin) has given all the particulars of

the journey, I will say no more about it, except that altogether it has

cost me 7 pounds. We got into our lodgings yesterday evening, which

are very comfortable and near the College. Our Landlady, by name Mrs.

Mackay, is a nice clean old body--exceedingly civil and attentive. She

lives in "11, Lothian Street, Edinburgh" (1/1. In a letter printed in

the "Edinburgh Evening Despatch" of May 22nd, 1888, the writer suggested

that a tablet should be placed on the house, 11, Lothian Street. This

suggestion was carried out in 1888 by Mr. Ralph Richardson (Clerk of

the Commissary Court, Edinburgh), who obtained permission from the

proprietors to affix a tablet to the house, setting forth that Charles

Darwin resided there as an Edinburgh University student. We are indebted

to Mr. W.K. Dickson for obtaining for us this information, and to Mr.

Ralph Richardson for kindly supplying us with particulars. See Mr.

Richardson's Inaugural Address, "Trans. Edinb. Geol. Soc." 1894-95; also

"Memorable Edinburgh Houses," by Wilmot Harrison, 1898.), and only four

flights of steps from the ground-floor, which is very moderate to some

other lodgings that we were nearly taking. The terms are 1 pound 6

shillings for two very nice and LIGHT bedrooms and a sitting-room; by

the way, light bedrooms are very scarce articles in Edinburgh, since

most of them are little holes in which there is neither air nor light.

We called on Dr. Hanley the first morning, whom I think we never should

have found, had it not been for a good-natured Dr. of Divinity who took

us into his library and showed us a map, and gave us directions how to

find him. Indeed, all the Scotchmen are so civil and attentive, that it

is enough to make an Englishman ashamed of himself. I should think Dr.

Butler or any other fat English Divine would take two utter strangers

into his library and show them the way! When at last we found the

Doctor, and having made all the proper speeches on both sides, we

all three set out and walked all about the town, which we admire

excessively; indeed Bridge Street is the most extraordinary thing I ever

saw, and when we first looked over the sides, we could hardly believe

our eyes, when instead of a fine river, we saw a stream of people. We

spend all our mornings in promenading about the town, which we know

pretty well, and in the evenings we go to the play to hear Miss Stephens

(Probably Catherine Stephens), which is quite delightful; she is very

popular here, being encored to such a degree, that she can hardly get

on with the play. On Monday we are going to Der F (I do not know how

to spell the rest of the word). (1/2. "Der F" is doubtless "Der

Freischutz," which appeared in 1820, and of which a selection was

given in London, under Weber's direction, in 1825. The last of Weber's

compositions, "From Chindara's warbling fount," was written for Miss

Stephens, who sang it to his accompaniment "the last time his fingers

touched the key-board." (See "Dict. of Music," "Stephens" and "Weber."))

Before we got into our lodgings, we were staying at the Star Hotel in

Princes St., where to my surprise I met with an old schoolfellow, whom I

like very much; he is just come back from a walking tour in Switzerland

and is now going to study for his [degree?] The introductory lectures

begin next Wednesday, and we were matriculated for them on Saturday; we

pay 10s., and write our names in a book, and the ceremony is finished;

but the Library is not free to us till we get a ticket from a Professor.

We just have been to Church and heard a sermon of only 20 minutes. I

expected, from Sir Walter Scott's account, a soul-cutting discourse of 2

hours and a half.

I remain your affectionate son, C. DARWIN.

LETTER 2. TO CAROLINE DARWIN. January 6th, 1826. Edinburgh.

Many thanks for your very entertaining letter, which was a great relief

after hearing a long stupid lecture from Duncan on Materia Medica, but

as you know nothing either of the Lectures or Lecturers, I will give you

a short account of them. Dr. Duncan is so very learned that his wisdom

has left no room for his sense, and he lectures, as I have already

said, on the Materia Medica, which cannot be translated into any word

expressive enough of its stupidity. These few last mornings, however, he

has shown signs of improvement, and I hope he will "go on as well as

can be expected." His lectures begin at eight in the morning. Dr. Hope

begins at ten o'clock, and I like both him and his lectures VERY much

(after which Erasmus goes to "Mr. Sizars on Anatomy," who is a charming

Lecturer). At 12 the Hospital, after which I attend Monro on Anatomy. I

dislike him and his lectures so much, that I cannot speak with decency

about them. Thrice a week we have what is called Clinical lectures,

which means lectures on the sick people in the Hospital--these I like

very much. I said this account should be short, but I am afraid it has

been too long, like the lectures themselves.

I will be a good boy and tell something about Johnson again (not but

what I am very much surprised that Papa should so forget himself as call

me, a Collegian in the University of Edinburgh, a boy). He has changed

his lodgings for the third time; he has got very cheap ones, but I am

afraid it will not answer, for they must make up by cheating. I hope

you like Erasmus' official news, he means to begin every letter so. You

mentioned in your letter that Emma was staying with you: if she is

not gone, ask her to tell Jos that I have not succeeded in getting any

titanium, but that I will try again...I want to know how old I shall be

next birthday--I believe 17, and if so, I shall be forced to go abroad

for one year, since it is necessary that I shall have completed my 21st

year before I take my degree. Now you have no business to be frowning

and puzzling over this letter, for I did not promise to write a good

hand to you.

LETTER 3. TO J.S. HENSLOW.

(3/1. Extracts from Darwin's letters to Henslow were read before the

Cambridge Philosophical Society on November 16th, 1835. Some of the

letters were subsequently printed, in an 8vo pamphlet of 31 pages, dated

December 1st, 1835, for private distribution among the members of the

Society. A German translation by W. Preyer appeared in the "Deutsche

Rundschau," June 1891.)

[15th August, 1832. Monte Video.]

We are now beating up the Rio Plata, and I take the opportunity of

beginning a letter to you. I did not send off the specimens from Rio

Janeiro, as I grudged the time it would take to pack them up. They are

now ready to be sent off and most probably go by this packet. If so they

go to Falmouth (where Fitz-Roy has made arrangements) and so will not

trouble your brother's agent in London. When I left England I was not

fully aware how essential a kindness you offered me when you undertook

to receive my boxes. I do not know what I should do without such

head-quarters. And now for an apologetical prose about my collection: I

am afraid you will say it is very small, but I have not been idle, and

you must recollect what a very small show hundreds of species make. The

box contains a good many geological specimens; I am well aware that the

greater number are too small. But I maintain that no person has a right

to accuse me, till he has tried carrying rocks under a tropical sun.

I have endeavoured to get specimens of every variety of rock, and have

written notes upon all. If you think it worth your while to examine

any of them I shall be very glad of some mineralogical information,

especially on any numbers between 1 and 254 which include Santiago

rocks. By my catalogue I shall know which you may refer to. As for my

plants, "pudet pigetque mihi." All I can say is that when objects are

present which I can observe and particularise about, I cannot summon

resolution to collect when I know nothing.

It is positively distressing to walk in the glorious forest amidst such

treasures and feel they are all thrown away upon one. My collection from

the Abrolhos is interesting, as I suspect it nearly contains the whole

flowering vegetation--and indeed from extreme sterility the same may

almost be said of Santiago. I have sent home four bottles with animals

in spirits, I have three more, but would not send them till I had a

fourth. I shall be anxious to hear how they fare. I made an enormous

collection of Arachnidae at Rio, also a good many small beetles in pill

boxes, but it is not the best time of year for the latter. Amongst the

lower animals nothing has so much interested me as finding two species

of elegantly coloured true Planaria inhabiting the dewy forest! The

false relation they bear to snails is the most extraordinary thing of

the kind I have ever seen. In the same genus (or more truly family) some

of the marine species possess an organisation so marvellous that I can

scarcely credit my eyesight. Every one has heard of the discoloured

streaks of water in the equatorial regions. One I examined was owing

to the presence of such minute Oscillariae that in each square inch

of surface there must have been at least one hundred thousand present.

After this I had better be silent, for you will think me a Baron

Munchausen amongst naturalists. Most assuredly I might collect a far

greater number of specimens of Invertebrate animals if I took less time

over each; but I have come to the conclusion that two animals with

their original colour and shape noted down will be more valuable to

naturalists than six with only dates and place. I hope you will send me

your criticisms about my collection; and it will be my endeavour that

nothing you say shall be lost on me. I would send home my writings with

my specimens, only I find I have so repeatedly occasion to refer back

that it would be a serious loss to me. I cannot conclude about my

collection without adding that I implicitly trust in your keeping an

exact account against all the expense of boxes, etc., etc. At this

present minute we are at anchor in the mouth of the river, and such a

strange scene as it is. Everything is in flames--the sky with lightning,

the water with luminous particles, and even the very masts are pointed

with a blue flame. I expect great interest in scouring over the plains

of Monte Video, yet I look back with regret to the Tropics, that magic

lure to all naturalists. The delight of sitting on a decaying trunk

amidst the quiet gloom of the forest is unspeakable and never to be

forgotten. How often have I then wished for you. When I see a banana I

well recollect admiring them with you in Cambridge--little did I then

think how soon I should eat their fruit.

August 15th. In a few days the box will go by the "Emulous" packet

(Capt. Cooke) to Falmouth and will be forwarded to you. This letter goes

the same way, so that if in course of due time you do not receive the

box, will you be kind enough to write to Falmouth? We have been here

(Monte Video) for some time; but owing to bad weather and continual

fighting on shore, we have scarcely ever been able to walk in the

country. I have collected during the last month nothing, but to-day I

have been out and returned like Noah's Ark with animals of all sorts.

I have to-day to my astonishment found two Planariae living under dry

stones: ask L. Jenyns if he has ever heard of this fact. I also found a

most curious snail, and spiders, beetles, snakes, scorpions ad libitum,

and to conclude shot a Cavia weighing a cwt.--On Friday we sail for the

Rio Negro, and then will commence our real wild work. I look forward

with dread to the wet stormy regions of the south, but after so much

pleasure I must put up with some sea-sickness and misery.

LETTER 4. TO J.S. HENSLOW. Monte Video, 24th November 1832.

We arrived here on the 24th of October, after our first cruise on the

coast of Patagonia. North of the Rio Negro we fell in with some little

schooners employed in sealing: to save the loss of time in surveying the

intricate mass of banks, Capt. Fitz-Roy has hired two of them and has

put officers on them. It took us nearly a month fitting them out; as

soon as this was finished we came back here, and are now preparing for a

long cruise to the south. I expect to find the wild mountainous country

of Terra del Fuego very interesting, and after the coast of Patagonia I

shall thoroughly enjoy it.--I had hoped for the credit of Dame Nature,

no such country as this last existed; in sad reality we coasted along

240 miles of sand hillocks; I never knew before, what a horrid ugly

object a sand hillock is. The famed country of the Rio Plata in my

opinion is not much better: an enormous brackish river, bounded by an

interminable green plain is enough to make any naturalist groan. So

Hurrah for Cape Horn and the Land of Storms. Now that I have had my

growl out, which is a privilege sailors take on all occasions, I will

turn the tables and give an account of my doing in Nat. History. I must

have one more growl: by ill luck the French Government has sent one of

its collectors to the Rio Negro, where he has been working for the last

six months, and is now gone round the Horn. So that I am very selfishly

afraid he will get the cream of all the good things before me. As I

have nobody to talk to about my luck and ill luck in collecting, I am

determined to vent it all upon you. I have been very lucky with fossil

bones; I have fragments of at least 6 distinct animals: as many of them

are teeth, I trust, shattered and rolled as they have been, they will

be recognised. I have paid all the attention I am capable of to their

geological site; but of course it is too long a story for here. 1st, I

have the tarsi and metatarsi very perfect of a Cavia; 2nd, the upper jaw

and head of some very large animal with four square hollow molars and

the head greatly protruded in front. I at first thought it belonged

either to the Megalonyx or Megatherium (4/1). The animal may probably

have been Grypotherium Darwini, Ow. The osseous plates mentioned below

must have belonged to one of the Glyptodontidae, and not to Megatherium.

We are indebted to Mr. Kerr for calling our attention to a passage in

Buckland's "Bridgewater Treatise" (Volume II., page 20, note), where

bony armour is ascribed to Megatherium.); in confirmation of this in the

same formation I found a large surface of the osseous polygonal

plates, which "late observations" (what are they?) show belong to the

Megatherium. Immediately I saw this I thought they must belong to an

enormous armadillo, living species of which genus are so abundant here.

3rd, The lower jaw of some large animal which, from the molar teeth, I

should think belonged to the Edentata; 4th, some large molar teeth which

in some respects would seem to belong to an enormous rodent; 5th, also

some smaller teeth belonging to the same order. If it interests you

sufficiently to unpack them, I shall be very curious to hear something

about them. Care must be taken in this case not to confuse the tallies.

They are mingled with marine shells which appear to me identical with

what now exist. But since they were deposited in their beds several

geological changes have taken place in the country. So much for the

dead, and now for the living: there is a poor specimen of a bird which

to my unornithological eyes appears to be a happy mixture of a lark,

pigeon and snipe (No. 710). Mr. MacLeay himself never imagined such an

inosculating creature: I suppose it will turn out to be some well-known

bird, although it has quite baffled me. I have taken some interesting

Amphibia; a new Trigonocephalus beautifully connecting in its habits

Crotalus and the Viperidae, and plenty of new (as far as my knowledge

goes) saurians. As for one little toad, I hope it may be new, that

it may be christened "diabolicus." Milton must allude to this very

individual when he talks of "squat like a toad" (4/2. "...him [Satan]

there they [Ithuriel and Zephon] found, Squat like a toad, close at the

ear of Eve" ("Paradise Lost," Book IV., line 800).

"Formerly Milton's "Paradise Lost" had been my chief favourite, and in

my excursions during the voyage of the 'Beagle,' when I could take only

a single volume, I always chose Milton" ("Autobiography," page 69).);

its colours are by Werner (4/3. Werner's "Nomenclature of Colours,"

Edinburgh, 1821.) ink black, vermilion red and buff orange. It has been

a splendid cruise for me in Nat. History. Amongst the Pelagic Crustacea,

some new and curious genera. In the Zoophytes some interesting animals.

As for one Flustra, if I had not the specimen to back me up nobody would

believe in its most anomalous structure. But as for novelty all this is

nothing to a family of pelagic animals which at first sight appear

like Medusae but are really highly organised. I have examined them

repeatedly, and certainly from their structure it would be impossible to

place them in any existing order. Perhaps Salpa is the nearest animal,

although the transparency of the body is nearly the only character they

have in common. I think the dried plants nearly contain all which were

then (Bahia Blanca) flowering. All the specimens will be packed in

casks. I think there will be three (before sending this letter I will

specify dates, etc., etc.). I am afraid you will groan or rather the

floor of the lecture room will when the casks arrive. Without you I

should be utterly undone. The small cask contains fish: will you open it

to see how the spirit has stood the evaporation of the Tropics. On board

the ship everything goes on as well as possible; the only drawback is

the fearful length of time between this and the day of our return. I do

not see any limits to it. One year is nearly completed and the second

will be so, before we even leave the east coast of S. America. And then

our voyage may be said really to have commenced. I know not how I shall

be able to endure it. The frequency with which I think of all the happy

hours I have spent at Shrewsbury and Cambridge is rather ominous--I

trust everything to time and fate and will feel my way as I go on.

November 24th.--We have been at Buenos Ayres for a week; it is a fine

large city, but such a country, everything is mud, you can go nowhere,

you can do nothing for mud. In the city I obtained much information

about the banks of the Uruguay--I hear of limestone with shells, and

beds of shells in every direction. I hope when we winter in the Plata

to have a most interesting geological excursion into that country: I

purchased fragments (Nos. 837-8) of some enormous bones, which I was

assured belonged to the former giants!! I also procured some seeds--I do

not know whether they are worth your accepting; if you think so I will

get some more. They are in the box. I have sent to you by the "Duke of

York" packet, commanded by Lieut. Snell, to Falmouth two large casks

containing fossil bones, a small cask with fish and a box containing

skins, spirit bottle, etc., and pill-boxes with beetles. Would you be

kind enough to open these latter as they are apt to become mouldy. With

the exception of the bones the rest of my collection looks very scanty.

Recollect how great a proportion of time is spent at sea. I am always

anxious to hear in what state the things come and any criticisms about

quantity or kind of specimens. In the smaller cask is part of a large

head, the anterior portions of which are in the other large one. The

packet has arrived and I am in a great bustle. You will not hear from me

for some months.

LETTER 5. TO J.S. HENSLOW. Valparaiso, July 24th 1834.

A box has just arrived in which were two of your most kind and

affectionate letters. You do not know how happy they have made me. One

is dated December 15th, 1833, the other January 15th of the same year!

By what fatality it did not arrive sooner I cannot conjecture; I regret

it much, for it contains the information I most wanted, about manner of

packing, etc., etc.: roots with specimens of plants, etc., etc. This I

suppose was written after the reception of my first cargo of specimens.

Not having heard from you until March of this year I really began to

think that my collections were so poor, that you were puzzled what to

say; the case is now quite on the opposite tack; for you are guilty of

exciting all my vain feelings to a most comfortable pitch; if hard

work will atone for these thoughts, I vow it shall not be spared. It is

rather late, but I will allude to some remarks in the January letter;

you advise me to send home duplicates of my notes; I have been aware of

the advantage of doing so; but then at sea to this day, I am invariably

sick, excepting on the finest days, at which times with pelagic animals

around me, I could never bring myself to the task--on shore the most

prudent person could hardly expect such a sacrifice of time. My notes

are becoming bulky. I have about 600 small quarto pages full; about half

of this is Geology--the other imperfect descriptions of animals; with

the latter I make it a rule only to describe those parts or facts,

which cannot be seen in specimens in spirits. I keep my private Journal

distinct from the above. (N.B. this letter is a most untidy one, but

my mind is untidy with joy; it is your fault, so you must take the

consequences.) With respect to the land Planariae, unquestionably they

are not molluscous animals. I read your letters last night, this morning

I took a little walk; by a curious coincidence, I found a new white

species of Planaria, and a new to me Vaginulus (third species which I

have found in S. America) of Cuvier. Amongst the marine mollusques I

have seen a good many genera, and at Rio found one quite new one. With

respect to the December letter, I am very glad to hear the four casks

arrived safe; since which time you have received another cargo, with

the bird skins about which you did not understand me. Have any of the

B. Ayrean seeds produced plants? From the Falklands I acknowledged a box

and letter from you; with the letter were a few seeds from Patagonia. At

present I have specimens enough to make a heavy cargo, but shall wait

as much longer as possible, because opportunities are not now so good

as before. I have just got scent of some fossil bones of a MAMMOTH; what

they may be I do not know, but if gold or galloping will get them they

shall be mine. You tell me you like hearing how I am going on and what

doing, and you well may imagine how much I enjoy speaking to any one

upon subjects which I am always thinking about, but never have any one

to talk to [about]. After leaving the Falklands we proceeded to the

Rio S. Cruz, following up the river till within twenty miles of the

Cordilleras. Unfortunately want of provisions compelled us to return.

This expedition was most important to me as it was a transverse section

of the great Patagonian formation. I conjecture (an accurate examination

of fossils may possibly determine the point) that the main bed is

somewhere about the Miocene period (using Mr. Lyell's expression); I

judge from what I have seen of the present shells of Patagonia. This bed

contains an ENORMOUS field of lava. This is of some interest, as being a

rude approximation to the age of the volcanic part of the great range of

the Andes. Long before this it existed as a slate and porphyritic

line of hills. I have collected a tolerable quantity of information

respecting the period and forms of elevations of these plains. I think

these will be interesting to Mr. Lyell; I had deferred reading his third

volume till my return: you may guess how much pleasure it gave me; some

of his woodcuts came so exactly into play that I have only to refer to

them instead of redrawing similar ones. I had my barometer with me,

I only wish I had used it more in these plains. The valley of S. Cruz

appears to me a very curious one; at first it quite baffled me. I

believe I can show good reasons for supposing it to have been once a

northern straits like to that of Magellan. When I return to England you

will have some hard work in winnowing my Geology; what little I know I

have learnt in such a curious fashion that I often feel very doubtful

about the number of grains [of value?]. Whatever number they may turn

out, I have enjoyed extreme pleasure in collecting them. In T. del Fuego

I collected and examined some corallines; I have observed one fact which

quite startled me: it is that in the genus Sertularia (taken in its

most restricted form as [used] by Lamoureux) and in two species which,

excluding comparative expressions, I should find much difficulty in

describing as different, the polypi quite and essentially differed in

all their most important and evident parts of structure. I have already

seen enough to be convinced that the present families of corallines as

arranged by Lamarck, Cuvier, etc., are highly artificial. It appears

that they are in the same state [in] which shells were when Linnaeus

left them for Cuvier to rearrange. I do so wish I was a better hand

at dissecting, I find I can do very little in the minute parts of

structure; I am forced to take a very rough examination as a type for

different classes of structure. It is most extraordinary I can nowhere

see in my books one single description of the polypus of any one

coralline excepting Alcyonium Lobularia of Savigny. I found a curious

little stony Cellaria (5/1. Cellaria, a genus of Bryozoa, placed in the

section Flustrina of the Suborder Chilostomata.) (a new genus) each cell

provided with long toothed bristle, these are capable of various and

rapid motions. This motion is often simultaneous, and can be produced

by irritation. This fact, as far as I can see, is quite isolated in

the history of zoophytes (excepting the Flustra with an organ like a

vulture's head); it points out a much more intimate relation between the

polypi than Lamarck is willing to allow. I forgot whether I mentioned

having seen something of the manner of propagation in that most

ambiguous family, the corallines; I feel pretty well convinced if they

are not plants they are not zoophytes. The "gemmule" of a Halimeda

contained several articulations united, ready to burst their envelope,

and become attached to some basis. I believe in zoophytes universally

the gemmule produces a single polypus, which afterwards or at the same

time grows with its cell or single articulation.

The "Beagle" left the Sts. of Magellan in the middle of winter; she

found her road out by a wild unfrequented channel; well might Sir J.

Narborough call the west coast South Desolation, "because it is so

desolate a land to behold." We were driven into Chiloe by some very

bad weather. An Englishman gave me three specimens of that very fine

Lucanoidal insect which is described in the "Camb. Phil. Trans." (5/2.

"Description of Chiasognathus Grantii, a new Lucanideous Insect, etc."

by J.F. Stephens ("Trans. Camb. Phil. Soc." Volume IV., page 209,

1833.)), two males and one female. I find Chiloe is composed of lava

and recent deposits. The lavas are curious from abounding in, or rather

being in parts composed of pitchstone. If we go to Chiloe in the summer,

I shall reap an entomological harvest. I suppose the Botany both there

and in Chili is well-known.

I forgot to state that in the four cargoes of specimens there have been

sent three square boxes, each containing four glass bottles. I mention

this in case they should be stowed beneath geological specimens and thus

escape your notice, perhaps some spirit may be wanted in them. If a

box arrives from B. Ayres with a Megatherium head the other unnumbered

specimens, be kind enough to tell me, as I have strong fears for its

safety. We arrived here the day before yesterday; the views of the

distant mountains are most sublime and the climate delightful; after our

long cruise in the damp gloomy climates of the south, to breathe a clear

dry air and feel honest warm sunshine, and eat good fresh roast beef

must be the summum bonum of human life. I do not like the look of

the rocks half so much as the beef, there is too much of those rather

insipid ingredients, mica, quartz and feldspar. Our plans are at present

undecided; there is a good deal of work to the south of Valparaiso and

to the north an indefinite quantity. I look forward to every part with

interest. I have sent you in this letter a sad dose of egotism, but

recollect I look up to you as my father in Natural History, and a son

may talk about himself to his father. In your paternal capacity as

proproctor what a great deal of trouble you appear to have had. How

turbulent Cambridge is become. Before this time it will have regained

its tranquillity. I have a most schoolboy-like wish to be there,

enjoying my holidays. It is a most comfortable reflection to me, that

a ship being made of wood and iron, cannot last for ever, and therefore

this voyage must have an end.

October 28th. This letter has been lying in my portfolio ever since

July; I did not send it away because I did not think it worth the

postage; it shall now go with a box of specimens. Shortly after arriving

here I set out on a geological excursion, and had a very pleasant ramble

about the base of the Andes. The whole country appears composed of

breccias (and I imagine slates) which universally have been modified and

oftentimes completely altered by the action of fire. The varieties of

porphyry thus produced are endless, but nowhere have I yet met with

rocks which have flowed in a stream; dykes of greenstone are very

numerous. Modern volcanic action is entirely shut up in the very central

parts (which cannot now be reached on account of the snow) of the

Cordilleras. In the south of the R. Maypu I examined the Tertiary

plains, already partially described by M. Gay. (5/3. "Rapport fait a

l'Academie Royale des Sciences, sur les Travaux Geologiques de M. Gay,"

by Alex. Brongniart ("Ann. Sci. Nat." Volume XXVIII., page 394, 1833.)

The fossil shells appear to me to be far more different from the recent

ones than in the great Patagonian formation; it will be curious if an

Eocene and Miocene (recent there is abundance of) could be proved to

exist in S. America as well as in Europe. I have been much interested

by finding abundance of recent shells at an elevation of 1,300 feet; the

country in many places is scattered over with shells but these are all

littoral ones. So that I suppose the 1,300 feet elevation must be owing

to a succession of small elevations such as in 1822. With these certain

proofs of the recent residence of the ocean over all the lower parts of

Chili, the outline of every view and the form of each valley possesses

a high interest. Has the action of running water or the sea formed this

deep ravine? was a question which often arose in my mind and generally

was answered by finding a bed of recent shells at the bottom. I have

not sufficient arguments, but I do not believe that more than a small

fraction of the height of the Andes has been formed within the Tertiary

period. The conclusion of my excursion was very unfortunate, I became

unwell and could hardly reach this place. I have been in bed for the

last month, but am now rapidly getting well. I had hoped during

this time to have made a good collection of insects but it has been

impossible: I regret the less because Chiloe fairly swarms with

collectors; there are more naturalists in the country, than carpenters

or shoemakers or any other honest trade.

In my letter from the Falkland Islands I said I had fears about a box

with a Megatherium. I have since heard from B. Ayres that it went to

Liverpool by the brig "Basingwaithe." If you have not received it, it is

I think worth taking some trouble about. In October two casks and a jar

were sent by H.M.S. "Samarang" via Portsmouth. I have no doubt you have

received them. With this letter I send a good many bird skins; in the

same box with them, there is a paper parcel containing pill boxes with

insects. The other pill boxes require no particular care. You will

see in two of these boxes some dried Planariae (terrestrial), the only

method I have found of preserving them (they are exceedingly brittle).

By examining the white species I understand some little of the internal

structure. There are two small parcels of seeds. There are some plants

which I hope may interest you, or at least those from Patagonia where

I collected every one in flower. There is a bottle clumsily but I think

securely corked containing water and gas from the hot baths of Cauquenes

seated at foot of Andes and long celebrated for medicinal properties. I

took pains in filling and securing both water and gas. If you can find

any one who likes to analyze them, I should think it would be worth the

trouble. I have not time at present to copy my few observations about

the locality, etc., etc., [of] these springs. Will you tell me how the

Arachnidae which I have sent home, for instance those from Rio, appear

to be preserved. I have doubts whether it is worth while collecting

them.

We sail the day after to-morrow: our plans are at last limited and

definite; I am delighted to say we have bid an eternal adieu to T. del

Fuego. The "Beagle" will not proceed further south than C. Tres Montes;

from which point we survey to the north. The Chonos Archipelago

is delightfully unknown: fine deep inlets running into the

Cordilleras--where we can steer by the light of a volcano. I do not

know which part of the voyage now offers the most attractions. This is a

shamefully untidy letter, but you must forgive me.

LETTER 6. TO J.S. HENSLOW. April 18th, 1835. Valparaiso.

I have just returned from Mendoza, having crossed the Cordilleras by two

passes. This trip has added much to my knowledge of the geology of the

country. Some of the facts, of the truth of which I in my own mind feel

fully convinced, will appear to you quite absurd and incredible. I will

give a very short sketch of the structure of these huge mountains. In

the Portillo pass (the more southern one) travellers have described

the Cordilleras to consist of a double chain of nearly equal altitude

separated by a considerable interval. This is the case; and the same

structure extends to the northward to Uspallata; the little elevation

of the eastern line (here not more than 6,000-7,000 feet.) has caused it

almost to be overlooked. To begin with the western and principal

chain, we have, where the sections are best seen, an enormous mass of a

porphyritic conglomerate resting on granite. This latter rock seems

to form the nucleus of the whole mass, and is seen in the deep

lateral valleys, injected amongst, upheaving, overturning in the most

extraordinary manner, the overlying strata. The stratification in all

the mountains is beautifully distinct and from a variety in the colour

can be seen at great distances. I cannot imagine any part of the world

presenting a more extraordinary scene of the breaking up of the crust

of the globe than the very central parts of the Andes. The upheaval has

taken place by a great number of (nearly) N. and S. lines; which in most

cases have formed as many anticlinal and synclinal ravines; the strata

in the highest pinnacles are almost universally inclined at an angle

from 70 deg to 80 deg. I cannot tell you how I enjoyed some of these

views--it is worth coming from England, once to feel such intense

delight; at an elevation from 10 to 12,000 feet there is a transparency

in the air, and a confusion of distances and a sort of stillness which

gives the sensation of being in another world, and when to this is

joined the picture so plainly drawn of the great epochs of violence, it

causes in the mind a most strange assemblage of ideas.

The formation I call Porphyritic Conglomerates is the most important and

most developed one in Chili: from a great number of sections I find it

a true coarse conglomerate or breccia, which by every step in a slow

gradation passes into a fine claystone-porphyry; the pebbles and cement

becoming porphyritic till at last all is blended in one compact rock.

The porphyries are excessively abundant in this chain. I feel sure at

least 4/5ths of them have been thus produced from sedimentary beds in

situ. There are porphyries which have been injected from below amongst

strata, and others ejected, which have flowed in streams; it is

remarkable, and I could show specimens of this rock produced in these

three methods, which cannot be distinguished. It is a great mistake

considering the Cordilleras here as composed of rocks which have flowed

in streams. In this range I nowhere saw a fragment, which I believe to

have thus originated, although the road passes at no great distance

from the active volcanoes. The porphyries, conglomerate, sandstone and

quartzose sandstone and limestones alternate and pass into each

other many times, overlying (where not broken through by the granite)

clay-slate. In the upper parts, the sandstone begins to alternate with

gypsum, till at last we have this substance of a stupendous thickness.

I really think the formation is in some places (it varies much) nearly

2,000 feet thick, it occurs often with a green (epidote?) siliceous

sandstone and snow-white marble; it resembles that found in the Alps in

containing large concretions of a crystalline marble of a blackish grey

colour. The upper beds which form some of the higher pinnacles consist

of layers of snow-white gypsum and red compact sandstone, from the

thickness of paper to a few feet, alternating in an endless round.

The rock has a most curiously painted appearance. At the pass of the

Peuquenes in this formation, where however a black rock like clay-slate,

without many laminae, occurring with a pale limestone, has replaced the

red sandstone, I found abundant impressions of shells. The elevation

must be between 12 and 13,000 feet. A shell which I believe is the

Gryphaea is the most abundant--an Ostrea, Turratella, Ammonites, small

bivalves, Terebratulae (?). Perhaps some good conchologist (6/1. Some of

these genera are mentioned by Darwin ("Geol. Obs." page 181) as having

been named for him by M. D'Orbigny.) will be able to give a guess, to

what grand division of the formations of Europe these organic remains

bear most resemblance. They are exceedingly imperfect and few. It

was late in the season and the situation particularly dangerous for

snow-storms. I did not dare to delay, otherwise a grand harvest might

have been reaped. So much for the western line; in the Portillo pass,

proceeding eastward, we meet an immense mass of conglomerate, dipping to

the west 45 deg, which rest on micaceous sandstone, etc., etc., upheaved

and converted into quartz-rock penetrated by dykes from the very

grand mass of protogine (large crystals of quartz, red feldspar, and

occasional little chlorite). Now this conglomerate which reposes on and

dips from the protogene 45 deg consists of the peculiar rocks of the

first described chain, pebbles of the black rock with shells, green

sandstone, etc., etc. It is hence manifest that the upheaval (and

deposition at least of part) of the grand eastern chain is entirely

posterior to the western. To the north in the Uspallata pass, we have

also a fact of the same class. Bear this in mind: it will help to

make you believe what follows. I have said the Uspallata range is

geologically, although only 6,000-7,000 feet, a continuation of the

grand eastern chain. It has its nucleus of granite, consists of grand

beds of various crystalline rocks, which I can feel no doubt are

subaqueous lavas alternating with sandstone, conglomerates and white

aluminous beds (like decomposed feldspar) with many other curious

varieties of sedimentary deposits. These lavas and sandstones alterate

very many times, and are quite conformable one to the other. During two

days of careful examination I said to myself at least fifty times, how

exactly like (only rather harder) these beds are to those of the

upper Tertiary strata of Patagonia, Chiloe and Concepcion, without

the possible identity ever having occurred to me. At last there was

no resisting the conclusion. I could not expect shells, for they never

occur in this formation; but lignite or carbonaceous shale ought to

be found. I had previously been exceedingly puzzled by meeting in

the sandstone, thin layers (few inches to feet thick) of a brecciated

pitchstone. I strongly suspect the underlying granite has altered

such beds into this pitchstone. The silicified wood (particularly

characteristic) was yet absent. The conviction that I was on the

Tertiary strata was so strong by this time in my mind, that on the

third day in the midst of lavas and [? masses] of granite I began my

apparently forlorn hunt. How do you think I succeeded? In an escarpement

of compact greenish sandstone, I found a small wood of petrified trees

in a vertical position, or rather the strata were inclined about 20-30

deg to one point and the trees 70 deg to the opposite one. That is,

they were before the tilt truly vertical. The sandstone consists of

many layers, and is marked by the concentric lines of the bark (I have

specimens); 11 are perfectly silicified and resemble the dicotyledonous

wood which I have found at Chiloe and Concepcion (6/2. "Geol. Obs." page

202. Specimens of the silicified wood were examined by Robert Brown,

and determined by him as coniferous, "partaking of the characters of the

Araucarian tribe, with some curious points of affinity with the yew.");

the others (30-40) I only know to be trees from the analogy of form

and position; they consist of snow-white columns (like Lot's wife) of

coarsely crystalline carb. of lime. The largest shaft is 7 feet. They

are all close together, within 100 yards, and about the same level:

nowhere else could I find any. It cannot be doubted that the layers

of fine sandstone have quietly been deposited between a clump of trees

which were fixed by their roots. The sandstone rests on lava, is covered

by a great bed apparently about 1,000 feet thick of black augitic lava,

and over this there are at least 5 grand alternations of such rocks and

aqueous sedimentary deposits, amounting in thickness to several thousand

feet. I am quite afraid of the only conclusion which I can draw from

this fact, namely that there must have been a depression in the surface

of the land to that amount. But neglecting this consideration, it was a

most satisfactory support of my presumption of the Tertiary (I mean by

Tertiary, that the shells of the period were closely allied, or some

identical, to those which now live, as in the lower beds of Patagonia)

age of this eastern chain. A great part of the proof must remain upon my

ipse dixit of a mineralogical resemblance with those beds whose age

is known, and the character of which resemblance is to be subject

to infinite variation, passing from one variety to another by a

concretionary structure. I hardly expect you to believe me, when it is

a consequence of this view that granite, which forms peaks of a height

probably of 14,000 feet, has been fluid in the Tertiary period; that

strata of that period are altered by its heat, and are traversed by

dykes from the mass. That these strata have also probably undergone an

immense depression, that they are now inclined at high angles and form

regular or complicated anticlinal lines. To complete the climax and seal

your disbelief, these same sedimentary strata and lavas are traversed by

VERY NUMEROUS, true metallic veins of iron, copper, arsenic, silver and

gold, and these can be traced to the underlying granite. A gold mine has

been worked close to the clump of silicified trees. If when you see my

specimens, sections and account, you should think that there is

pretty strong presumptive evidence of the above facts, it appears

very important; for the structure, and size of this chain will bear

comparison with any in the world, and that this all should have been

produced in so very recent a period is indeed wonderful. In my own

mind I am quite convinced of the reality of this. I can anyhow most

conscientiously say that no previously formed conjecture warped my

judgment. As I have described so did I actually observe the facts. But I

will have some mercy and end this most lengthy account of my geological

trip.

On some of the large patches of perpetual snow, I found the famous red

snow of the Arctic countries; I send with this letter my observations

and a piece of paper on which I tried to dry some specimens. If the fact

is new and you think it worth while, either yourself examine them or

send them to whoever has described the specimens from the north and

publish a notice in any of the periodicals. I also send a small bottle

with two lizards, one of them is viviparous as you will see by the

accompanying notice. A M. Gay--a French naturalist--has already

published in one of the newspapers of this country a similar statement

and probably has forwarded to Paris some account; as the fact appears

singular would it not be worth while to hand over the specimens to some

good lizardologist and comparative anatomist to publish an account of

their internal structure? Do what you think fit.

This letter will go with a cargo of specimens from Coquimbo. I shall

write to let you know when they are sent off. In the box there are two

bags of seeds, one [from the] valleys of the Cordilleras 5,000-10,000

feet high, the soil and climate exceedingly dry, soil very light and

stony, extremes in temperature; the other chiefly from the dry sandy

Traversia of Mendoza 3,000 feet more or less. If some of the bushes

should grow but not be healthy, try a slight sprinkling of salt and

saltpetre. The plain is saliferous. All the flowers in the Cordilleras

appear to be autumnal flowerers--they were all in blow and seed, many of

them very pretty. I gathered them as I rode along on the hill sides.

If they will but choose to come up, I have no doubt many would be great

rarities. In the Mendoza bag there are the seeds or berries of what

appears to be a small potato plant with a whitish flower. They grow

many leagues from where any habitation could ever have existed owing to

absence of water. Amongst the Chonos dried plants, you will see a fine

specimen of the wild potato, growing under a most opposite climate, and

unquestionably a true wild potato. It must be a distinct species from

that of the Lower Cordilleras one. Perhaps as with the banana, distinct

species are now not to be distinguished in their varieties produced by

cultivation. I cannot copy out the few remarks about the Chonos potato.

With the specimens there is a bundle of old papers and notebooks. Will

you take care of them; in case I should lose my notes, these might be

useful. I do not send home any insects because they must be troublesome

to you, and now so little more of the voyage remains unfinished I can

well take charge of them. In two or three days I set out for Coquimbo by

land; the "Beagle" calls for me in the beginning of June. So that I

have six weeks more to enjoy geologising over these curious mountains

of Chili. There is at present a bloody revolution in Peru. The Commodore

has gone there, and in the hurry has carried our letters with him;

perhaps amongst them there will be one from you. I wish I had the old

Commodore here, I would shake some consideration for others into his old

body. From Coquimbo you will again hear from me.

LETTER 7. TO J.S. HENSLOW. Lima, July 12th, 1835.

This is the last letter which I shall ever write to you from the shores

of America, and for this reason I send it. In a few days time the

"Beagle" will sail for the Galapagos Islands. I look forward with joy

and interest to this, both as being somewhat nearer to England and for

the sake of having a good look at an active volcano. Although we have

seen lava in abundance, I have never yet beheld the crater. I sent by

H.M.S. "Conway" two large boxes of specimens. The "Conway" sailed the

latter end of June. With them were letters for you, since that time I

have travelled by land from Valparaiso to Copiapo and seen something

more of the Cordilleras. Some of my geological views have been,

subsequently to the last letter, altered. I believe the upper mass

of strata is not so very modern as I supposed. This last journey has

explained to me much of the ancient history of the Cordilleras. I feel

sure they formerly consisted of a chain of volcanoes from which enormous

streams of lava were poured forth at the bottom of the sea. These

alternate with sedimentary beds to a vast thickness; at a subsequent

period these volcanoes must have formed islands, from which have been

produced strata of several thousand feet thick of coarse conglomerate.

(7/1. See "Geological Observations on South America" (London, 1846),