THE INTERVIEW

London, 1840

"Please enter and please sit." British entomologist Edward Doubleday asked as he motioned Kenneth Stanley known fondly to family and friends as "Ken" to a chair next to his cluttered roll-top desk with its pigeonholes crammed. Atop in an inkwell sat a bottle of India ink next to a holder of goose quill pens and assorted pencils and crayons. Across the top of his desk lay handwritten pages for Doubleday's epic treatise, The Genera of Diurnal Lepidoptera Comprising their Generic Characters, long already in the writing [published in 1852]. In a top drawer Doubleday had a draft of his List of the Specimens of Lepidopterous Insects in the Collections of the British Museum which in it, contrary to some other taxonomies, placed swallowtails at the top of the hierarchy of Lepidoptera and the skippers at the bottom; also with William Henry Edwards in his The Butterflies of North America 1868-1897. (Other thinkers placed swallowtails at the bottom.)

Atop an adjacent work table were paraphernalia for the mounting of butterfly wings such as spreading boards, paper strips, forceps and positioning pins. On other tables about the room sat rearing cages of butterfly and moth larvae and at the time were the curious blue-tailed caterpillars of Eyed Hawk Moths, Smertinthus ocelatta, feeding upon willow and poplar leaves, and caterpillars of Emperor Moths, Saturnia pavonia, with purplish tubercles feeding on heather leaves. In other cages were caterpillars of Red Admirals, Vanessa atalanta, feeding on buddleia leaves, and those of Peacock Butterflies, Inachis io, feeding on stinging nettles (Figs. 1 & 2).

Insect show cases with glass-topped drawers lined one wall which were fumigated with the unmistakable aroma of naphthalene crystals used for repelling dermestid beetles, well known among entomologists for the bad habits of them to feed on insect specimens, and skins of mounted animals being no exception. Edward Doubleday was also an outstanding ornithologist proven in a sense of it in that he had several mounted specimens of birds inside glassed cases.

Along other walls floor to ceiling were book shelves including one of the earliest works on British butterflies, the 1717 Papilionum Brittaniae Icones by James Petiver who coined the name "Fritillary" for that particular group of world-wide butterflies including North America. Other of his books by world-renown lepidopterists were those by Germans Jacob Hübner and of his 1790 Contributions to the History of Butterflies, and a treatise by Johann Andreas Bergstrsser describing butterflies in Europe.

English Lepidopterist Henry Walter Bates who did much of his work in the rainforests of the Amazon and who sent back over 14,000 insect specimens wrote of it all in his best known publication, The Naturalist on the River Amazon. Englishman biologist John Edward Gray published over 1000 papers on animal species of which many were on butterflies.

Dutchman Pieter Cramer's 1782 Die Uitlandsche Kapellen was a prized book with its beautifully illustrated life-sized hand-colored engravings of butterflies from Asia, Africa and America, and being the first book on exotic lepidoptera to use in the, then, new binomial taxonomic system developed by Carl Linnaeus in 1735. Files of his butterfly taxonomies occupied a large part of one shelf along with various journals, proceedings, and reports on butterflies and moths. Other works of French lepidopterists included importantly that of Jean Baptiste Boisduval's scholarly General History and Illustrations of the Lepidoptera and Caterpillars of Northern America published in Paris in 1837.

Edward Doubleday pulled Boisduval's book from a shelf along with that of Cramer's with its more than 1600 butterfly illustrations and showed them to Ken and asked: "Are you familiar with these books?"

"Yes sir." He answered, feeling rather smugly to know of them.

"How so?" Doubleday asked, curiously.

"I work as an apprentice in the Stevens Auction Rooms on Bloomsbury Street in Covent Garden that sell butterfly specimens locally, and others that are shipped all around the world. I help mount and dry those for local sales and fold those in glassine envelopes for shipment. The books you're showing are also in the library there for species identifications that I've read and studied. I also help label specimens with information as to the localities and dates collected and if known I record information of field observations. Not long ago I went with Mr. Stevens to the London docks to receive several boxes just in of butterflies from Canton, China. There were some very fine specimens in the order now already being sold in the Auction rooms."

"Yes," said Doubleday, "I knew of your work from Samuel Stevens when I asked him for recommendation of someone well experienced in such things as you mention, to explain the reason I invited you here. But more than that, I need someone who can identify butterflies and moths at least down to family names. For example, what family is this specimen?" Doubleday asked as he handed Ken a swallowtail species common to Europe.

"Surely you don't need me to identify the family for you." Ken Stanley remarked facetiously with a wry grin, suspecting maybe a trick question of some kind, knowing that Edward Doubleday was one of the best-known British Lepidopterists.

"Oh no!" Doubleday smiled in reply. "I know the family name, but I want to know if you know it ... and don't worry about the species taxon or race of which there are many. What family is it in?"

"It's in the family Papilionidae." Ken answered though he felt a bit amused to have been asked about a butterfly so common in England and so easily recognized by its hind wing tails. Moreover, he had pinned many for local sales and folded others for shipment. He even knew the Latin name, Papilio machaon, given to it by Carl Linnaeus.

"Then what about this one?" Doubleday asked as he pulled from a tray a butterfly specimen that had no tails on its hind wings.

"That's a new one for me," Ken admitted, "but by its size and wing shapes, veination, and markings I'd say that it too is in the family Papilionidae even though it has no tails." Ken looked closely to ascertain that the tattered specimen hadn't once had tails though now missing from wear and tear.

"It's not from Europe which is why you wouldn't likely know it." Doubleday remarked. "It's a tailless swallowtail from the southern United States known as Battus polydamas sent to me by a colleague in Georgia.

"What family would you place this one sent to me by another colleague who collects butterflies in the southern parts of the United States west to Texas, New Mexico and Colorado? This was collected in the Colorado Rocky Mountains known as Parnassius phoebus."

"I'm sorry sir, but I can't name the family." Ken replied rather disappointed that he couldn't.

"Never mind." Doubleday apologized for him. "I wouldn't expect you to know the family, as these butterflies are found in the northern latitudes in North America and in Western Europe and Asia but not here. However, they are closely related to swallowtails but note that it, too, has no tails.

"Now let me show you three more of our common butterflies here in England and elsewhere in Europe. Tell me the family and genus names if you know them." Doubleday first showed Ken a small yellow butterfly with black spots on its fore wings.

With no hesitation Ken answered. "It's in the family Peridae and in the genus Colias."

"Very good!" Doubleday replied. "What about this one?" He asked as he held up a butterfly with red stripes across its fore wings.

"It's a Red Admiral in the family Nymphalidae and genus Vanessa." Ken answered, rather pleased again to know the answers.

"Very good!" Doubleday replied once more. "Now what about this one?" Doubleday asked as he held up a small butterfly with angled fore wings with copper-colored splotches and with greatly elongated mouth parts protruding forward like a snout.

"That's an easy one with the snout. I sometimes think of them as Pinocchio butterflies." Ken laughed. "But it's the Nettle-tree Butterfly in the genus Libythea though I'm not sure of the family name."

"Well, you're close enough with the generic name. The family name is Libytheidae. Libythea is the generic name for all of the Old World `snouts' as they are commonly called wherever found, and Libytheana is for the New World species. Moreover," Doubleday chuckled, "there are other parts of the world with snouts on butterflies even more of a Pinocchio as you say in having even longer labial palpi."

Ken, now curious, asked: "Why are you asking me these things?"

"Mr. Stevens at the Auction House said you knew much about butterflies, and that you had worked for him diligently as an apprentice in the spreading and pinning of butterfly and moth wings. Moreover, you help prepare un-mounted specimens for shipping."

"Yes sir."

"Mr. Stevens also said that you have been collecting butterflies since a young boy and already know much about them."

"Yes sir, since about ten and I'm now twenty going on twenty-one. I volunteered to collect butterflies for Mr. Stevens when I was twelve and who later hired me as an apprentice even though I have no formal education in it. I sort of taught myself about butterflies by reading about them. I also read a lot about animals of most every kind." Ken added and grinned.

"Are you by chance related to Edward Stanley, the Earl of Derby who has a large menagerie of animals here in England and who is quite interested in butterflies? Lord Derby has collected some for me in the Banff and Lake Louise areas in the mountains of Alberta, Canada."

"Oh no sir ... no relationship. My family traces back along a branch of Chaplin names and the most famous I know about fought at Bunker Hill during the Revolution. There are others on the Chaplin family tree I understand who live in the States but I don't know much about them. I've never been to America."

"How would you like to go there for the remainder of this year through October and November to get some of the spring, summer and fall specimens? You could be back with your family by Christmas and work again for Mr. Stevens."

"Of course I would like to go!" Ken answered with a big grin at the opportunity. "But I have no way to get there or the means to pay costs."

"If you would be willing to collect butterflies for me particularly in Texas where there are also species of tropical origin up out of Mexico. I can pay your travel expenses and provide funds in advance for your subsistence, equipment needed, and work expenses while there, and pay you a salary plus commissions for the numbers of specimens you ship back. Texas is an area we have few specimens from. I should tell you that I've collected in America myself but all of my work was in the eastern States.

"I have a colleague in New York City who can provision you with all of the collecting equipment you will need. His name is John Eatton Le Conte now in his sixties and a graduate there of Columbia College. His son John who is about your age is presently studying at the Mount Saint Mary College in the city preparing for medical school, I understand. His dad tells me that John is fast becoming an expert on North American beetles and is already working on a catalogue of the coleoptera of the United States [published 1853].

"Meet both if you can but certainly John the father. Make plans to mail all of your specimens to him. He will verify your classifications as to families and add the generic and specific taxa if known and/or if a specimen is a variety or an aberrant form of a species. He will then mail the specimens onto me for the British Museum which is where he will want them go since he's a fellow of the Linnean Society here in London. I will mail him your salary and commissions and he will forward such funds on to you, but you will need to keep him informed of forwarding addresses.

"You won't be expected to identify all specimens as to species as the endemic forms will all be new to you and some may not yet be described. Anyway, you should be able to identify specimens as to family ... or most of them," Doubleday laughed, "and to help with identifications I will send with you a copy of Boisduval's butterfly and caterpillar book. Interesting enough, it was co-authored with John Le Conte, the father, and be a valuable reference for you in the field.

"Moreover, I can send other references, but as I say, nothing is much known about the butterflies in Texas, and I want you to get up on the higher Edwards Plateau to determine if there is anything much different there."

Ken grinned again by all said and being quite involved but asked curiously: "How will I get there?"

"Next month the American-made schooner Hannah Elizabeth will be sailing from Plymouth to the Bahamas and then to New York and I can arrange a passage for you along with some other passengers if you are willing to make the voyage. Do you want to go?"

"Yes, of course!" Ken replied excitedly about the opportunity to see the Americas and to collect butterflies there.

"Good!" Doubleday exclaimed. "Then I will make arrangements with Mr. Charles Roding who is the Captain who always hopes that his passengers don't get seasick." Doubleday chuckled.

VOYAGE OF THE HANNAH ELIZABETH

Ken Stanley remained a few days making exciting plans about a voyage to the United States and browsed through Edward Doubleday's collection of American specimens previously collected, as well as his shelves of publications on butterflies including library materials of the British Museum. Zoologist John Edward Gray had just been appointed there as the Keeper of Zoology. Doubleday himself was there as an entomologist and ornithologist.

Moreover in the British Museum, the well-known biologist Charles Darwin had deposited most of his world's collections of plants and animals and there his manuscripts and recently published 1837 book Voyage of the Beagle that inspired Ken to read again, being accounts of Darwin's own world adventures.

Ken made departing visits with friends and family as well as fellow employees at the Stevens Auction House in Covent Garden. It was especially difficult for Ken to say goodbyes with his parents and better friends unknowing of when or ever he would return, but otherwise Ken had no serious girlfriends to complicate the sadness and regret of partings. The packing of personal gear was less a problem in that Doubleday's colleague in the United States would supply him with all of the butterfly equipment needed, as insect nets and such. Ken was advanced in pounds sterling an adequate sum to pay for all expenses anticipated for the first few months, and fortunately so since American dollars were fluctuating widely in value and the 1837 paper money first printed in Texas already had less value due to high inflation.

In early February, 1840, when winter storms and rough seas were less of any concerns out on open waters, the Captain paid port charges and weighed anchor to set sail out of Plymouth harbor on an ebbing tide and with a favorable wind. The 65 foot 40 ton schooner under a full set of her canvas mains, staysails, jibs and the towering topsails soon carried the crew and passenger well out into the English Channel.

When finally clear of it and out into the open waters of the wind-swept Atlantic, the Hannah Elizabeth turned southerly well-heeled (Fig. 3) at full hull speed along the all season Southern Sailing Route west of the Azores off Spain, then southeasterly off Morocco to Madeira. From there the Hannah Elizabeth sailed on a sweeping great circle course to the Bahamas following much the latitude of the Tropic of Cancer with its usually favorable trade winds and following seas. Two-day stops were to be made at Madeira and in Nassau to leave some passengers behind but take on others and to renew provisions of necessity after a long voyage already.

For the first few days of the voyage and the first to some passengers, it so happened as it often does that those inclined to it became seasick which for some grew worse with stronger winds and bigger seas. But, fortunately, Ken Stanley was not so affected the entire voyage, not even the frequent times that the Hannah Elizabeth sailed well-heeled and awash with spray and sea foam and rolled in the never ending swells. Ken never complained of it, and what he liked most in the quiet times of his bunk was to listen to the creaks and groans of the planks and timbers working against one another inherent to wooden vessels, and to hear the occasional slaps of sails or sounds of waves against the hull and when washing down the decks and out the lee side scuppers.