A History of British Birds
The year is 1850 and hordes of agricultural workers are leaving their country roots behind them and heading to the towns and cities as the Industrial Revolution reaches its peak. As they do, they sever age-old links with the countryside and the natural environment they and their forebears have known for centuries. There are no cars, telephones, binoculars or leisure time for the masses. It seems that membership of the clergy is required before any legitimate interest in birds can be pursued, and popular birding as we know it today simply does not exist. Computers, pagers and digi-scoping are not even distant dreams and it will be another 30 years before the Willow Tit is recognised as a species in its own right.
Birds themselves are viewed with a mixture of amazement, envy and even fear in some quarters. They are mobile, restless and difficult to observe, appearing and disappearing at different times of the year without explanation. They are creatures of mystery with seemingly limitless populations that threaten to engulf the human race if not kept in check. Their habits are steeped in folklore and they exist only to be collected, shot for sport or eaten, depending upon one's position in the social hierarchy. To make matters worse there are no field guides, handbooks or readily accessible works of reference to help inform and educate the masses.
That was until Francis Orpen Morris, the vicar of Nafferton, and Benjamin Fawcett, arguably the finest of Victorian colour printers, began the monumental task of illustrating and describing all the birds of Britain in A History of British Birds. This comprehensive work — covering almost 360 species — provided the first accessible colour guide to the nation's avifauna and was an immediate success on publication.
Like a Dickensian novel, A History of British Birds was issued in monthly editions between 1850 and 1857. The Crimean War had yet to begin and Charles Darwin's On the Origin of Species had yet to be published. Each edition sold for one shilling and was therefore within reach of much of the Victorian public, especially the middle classes, many of whom were developing an increasing fascination with the natural world. Indeed, interest was to prove much greater than the publishers, Groombridge of London, had originally anticipated and the initial 1,000 copies of the first issue were soon increased to meet demand.
So who were Morris and Fawcett, and what was the significance of their work in both the mid–19th century and how has it influenced today's birding world?
(Plate: Courtesy of Webb & Bower Publishers)
Francis Orpen Morris (1810–1893) was born in Cork and decided to enter the church after leaving Oxford in 1833. He became curate at Hanging Heaton near Dewsbury, West Yorkshire, before moving to Nafferton, East Yorkshire, in November 1844. This relatively small parish, where he was vicar for nine years, provided regular opportunities for the study of natural history and, in particular, birds, in which he had a deep and long-held interest.
His first book, written in 1834, was a catalogue guide for those wishing to arrange birds in cabinets or collections. Morris, however, was an early conservationist at heart and clearly loathed the wanton destruction of all forms of wildlife. When the senseless slaughter of seabirds at Flamborough Head by 'sportsmen' led to the formation of the Association for the Protection of Sea-Birds in 1868 — the forerunner of today's RSPB — Morris was a keen and vociferous supporter.
During his time at Nafferton in the Yorkshire Wolds, Morris gained a reputation for writing popular essays on natural history. His collaboration with Fawcett, who by chance lived only two miles away in Driffield, was to last for almost 50 years. Their work would have a profound effect upon the development of British ornithology by making birds familiar and recognisable.
Benjamin Fawcett (1808–1893), the son of a Bridlington ship's master, established his business in Middle Street, Driffield in 1831 as printer, bookseller, bookbinder, music seller and stationer. He financed the production and printing of British Birds for which Morris provided the text. However, this was a ground-breaking and complex work requiring considerable patience and skill. Not only did Fawcett organise production of each monthly volume, but he also engraved the vast majority of the 360 plates himself. Working from illustrations, many provided by a clerical acquaintance of Morris — the Reverend R P Alington of Swinhope in Lincolnshire — Fawcett carved each image onto specially imported Turkish boxwood.
(Plate: Courtesy of Webb & Bower Publishers)
The wooden print blocks were engraved with meticulous attention to detail and left standing proud, ready to pick up the ink. A monochrome image was produced at first, which was then hand-painted to produce the coloured illustrations. Up to 60 female colourists, including Fawcett's second wife Martha, sat in rows in his workshop specialising in sky, feathers, foliage or water. They applied the colour, mixed from the finest available inks, straight onto the illustrations. Later, a system of colouring from multiple wooden blocks was introduced. As demand increased Fawcett required bigger premises and moved into East Lodge in Driffield, which would become his home and workplace.
Fawcett deserves much of the credit for the success of such a long-running and complex production, dictated by predetermined and demanding deadlines. In addition, although many of the illustrations seem hopelessly outdated by today's standards there was a genuine attempt to portray some species in a life-like manner to assist identification. Take for example the Kestrel: much discussion and controversy followed an illustration that for many simply showed a 'headless bird', but to others was a bold and innovative attempt to depict a typical head-down hovering pose.
(Plate: Courtesy of Webb & Bower Publishers)
Each monthly issue contained four beautifully coloured bird illustrations and several pages of accompanying letter-press. Much of the text leant towards anecdote rather than established science and apparently attracted criticism from respected ornithologists of the day such as Sir Alfred Newton. However, it was full of enthusiasm for the lives and habits of birds, which appealed directly to its audience and is still instantly recognisable today. An 'eyewitness' account of a Golden Eagle carrying a small child back to its eyrie would appeal to the Victorian public with a lurid fascination for the extremes of the natural world. However, balance this against the detailed description of Spotted Flycatcher feeding behaviour, or Lapwing display flight, and it is easy to see how the text would appeal to a wide and varied audience.
Morris set out his simple aims for British Birds in his preface to the first edition of the completed work in 1857. He wanted to include as much information about each species as was reasonably possible, present it in a readable format, with accurate and life-like images and — the masterstroke — offer it at an affordable price. He offered no promises regarding scientific accuracy and the text clearly included many doubtful records of occurrence and plenty of uncorroborated accounts of bird behaviour. Instead, he wrote exactly what his target audience wanted and did it with enough charm and enthusiasm to delight his readers, who included Queen Victoria and Prince Albert. The Prince apparently expressed amazement that a publication of this significance and complexity could be orchestrated from the small market town of Driffield.
(Plate: Courtesy of Webb & Bower Publishers)
British Birds was followed by similar volumes describing nests and eggs, butterflies and moths. By 1870, dogs and even stately homes had appeared in large-volume publications, but the format remained the same. Fawcett engraved from illustrations and printed the plates, whilst Morris provided the text. The publishing firm of Groombridge eventually failed in 1880 and, strangely, it seems that neither of them made much money from their joint ventures. Morris and Fawcett died within weeks of each other in the winter of 1893.
The town of Driffield has recognised the important contribution made by its most famous son and the dramatic progress he achieved in the field of colour printing. Visit the site of Fawcett's home and workshop today and you will find a commemorative garden and information board. The centrepiece is a huge Horse Chestnut tree which stood in the grounds of East Lodge when Fawcett lived and worked there.
It is little wonder that British Birds was such a huge success on publication. Before it there had been no easy access to coloured images and basic information about even the most commonplace and regularly seen birds. Here for the first time was an accessible introduction to the fascinating world of birds for the Victorians to explore and enjoy. One subscriber reported how he had happily forsaken his beer and pipe in order to secure each monthly copy. It was without a doubt the first usable and accessible handbook to the birds of Britain and the forerunner of the field guides and bird books we now take for granted.
British Birds soon became available in schools and many budding Victorian ornithologists, such as Edmund Selous, the first Victorian 'birdwatcher', must have been captivated by the variety of birds on the British list — just like any budding birder today thumbing through a popular field guide. It began the process of making birds familiar and recognisable. It also marked a significant step towards creating an environment where birds could be studied, observed and enjoyed as part of the natural environment by anybody with an interest.
There were still many dark years of ignorance, egg-collecting and senseless bird persecution ahead, but it's tempting to suggest that British Birds was a significant move towards establishing popular birding as we know and enjoy it today. Within a few years, new histories and coloured guides to British birds were produced and printing techniques and species accounts improved dramatically. Unfortunately, much of the pioneering work achieved by Morris and Fawcett is today largely forgotten. However, British Birds must be seen for what it offered at the time and that was quite simply a huge step forward in the accessibility of coloured images and information regarding our avifauna.
So what is my particular interest in Fawcett and the reason for my first visit to the quiet market town of Driffield in nearly 40 years? Well, my brother and I have long shared a deep passion for birds and birding which has developed over the years to the point of obsession. Just where our shared interest has come from has always been a puzzle, but just recently a possible explanation has emerged. It seems that as young children we lived with our parents for a short time in a draughty old Victorian mansion on the outskirts of Driffield. It was reputedly haunted and had cellars and passages leading off from the main house to dark and unexplored corners and dusty workrooms. It only takes a small stretch of the imagination to envisage the spirit of Benjamin Fawcett still walking the passageways of East Lodge and having a profound influence over two small children in a house where, for much of the mid 1800s, birds were everything.
