Fantasy Beast of Evolution
Another long day ended at Walton Hall in Wakefield, in the year of 1829. A wedding had taken place, and the celebrations started at dawn. Now, in ramshackle form the guests were making their way home, to various towns and cities across the country. Some had not far too travel, but others came from the illustrious city of London and had to rush off as they had urgent matters to attend. There were many Catholics, members of the clergy, cardinals, bishops, and chaplains.
Peasants set back across the fields to their villages, most carrying empty barrels. They quarrelled and fooled about; they have enjoyed a day at the expense of their aristocratic landowners. The Waterton’s were their masters, and they worked as servants, kitchen staff, or farm workers.
“Well, I’ve had a splendid day”, Charles said to his newlywed wife, Anne.
Anne replied, “Me, too, the guests were all charming, perfectly welcoming. They brought such costly presents with them. The only ones who didn’t bring anything were our workers. Most sequestered what alcohol they could in various folds and furls of their robes. Simply appalling”.
Charles wasn’t listening and said, “Tomorrow back to business then, I’m researching for a new volume of essays on natural history. With these I want to shake up the whole establishment. They think I’m going mad up here, rumours down in London are that I’ve begun to lose my mind! I could hear some of the guest’s making comments, amusing themselves with these titbits.”
“You’re just being paranoid”, she said.
Their conversation wound down, and they began to shut up the house for the night. Orders were given to servants to extinguish the fire, warm bottles, and for one last brew to be put on before they settled to bed. The servants dithered about until Anne came running, frightening the clappers out of them.
“Don’t drop our cookies!”, she screamed.
Charles was already in the bedroom and hauled himself into bed. The walls were covered with grisly looking souvenirs brought back from his travels. There were blowpipes, poison darts with curare encrusted on their tips, Indian headdresses, and classical paintings. They sat amidst the taxidermy that glared out dully with blackened eyes.
He shuddered and said. “And I still think it’s safe to go into those forests, maybe I’m losing my marbles!”
Anne opened the door and caught him in the act of pulling down a mask. He pulled it on and began screaming and yowling like a monkey. Anne was usually up for a laugh, but not for anything kinky that night.
She shouted, “Drop it!”
Charles glanced across with a crazed look in his eye, half wild and half tame.
“I’m pretending to be The Nondescript”, he said.
Anne had heard about this fantastical creature and the mystical powers it possessed, had even seen glimpses of it around the estate.
“I made this from the backside of a howler monkeys’ arse”, he said. “It’s to ridicule the actions of men.”
Anne gulped. She had heard of the prevalence of diseases that came from the jungle and worried he might have brought one back with him, Malaria. Charles had once caught yellow fever as a young man. They retired and fell fitfully to sleep, whilst the mask hung on the wall emitting purple geysers of smoke from its eyes. Dense clouds of noxious fumes found their way into every corner of the room, and their organs, as they breathed deeply. In the morning Anne woke up and looked about in horror, she was struggling to breathe. She started coughing up phlegm and had a massive coughing fit, then went into a seizure.
They managed to get her quickly to a physician who advised her to take up a wholesome diet with plenty of exercise up on the moors. Charles was strict and forced her up there in all manner of inclement weathers, and within weeks she started to improve. One day she came back, and her cheeks were glowing red.
Charles said, “You look amazing, a picture of health, I think you may be well again.”
She gazed on as he poured admiration upon her, soaking up the compliments. Then went for her daily walk, carefully so as not to exert herself. She was still looking flushed when she came back.
He said, “Maybe we should head back for the day?”
Anne doesn’t answer and they swan back down to the manor. Her temperature was raised, and she had a light fever. She was put to bed for the night and one of the kitchen hands came in to watch over her, worried as they were.
After a few hours watching close by, she declared, “She’s pregnant”.
The occupants of the manor were sent to fetch towels, robes, water, and cushions for what she was about to endure, as well as for when the exertions of labour began. Within minutes she was crushing the hand of Charles who passed out shortly after, then was roused by the wail of a new-born infant. When he came around, he looked about then gave a despairing cry, as she snuffed it during the birth. Within hours her body had stiffened from rigor mortis, and she lay like a plank of wood.
The coroners were called the next day; the verdict was given that she had fallen to purpureal fever. Charles wore a cloak of mourning for many years, was in a state of deep melancholia. He chastised himself for this double-edged sword of pleasure and pain, the birth of his new son, and the loss of his wife.
“From this day forwards”, he said, “I will sleep in the tiniest room in the house, with merely a wooden block for my pillow. It will serve as my penance for her death.”
Slowly he got over the pain, allowing young Edmund to be brought up by his two withering aunts. The young lad was obedient, pious, and had blonde curls. As he grew, he began to develop a passion for collecting, he was like a magpie, and every time he saw a glittering object, he snaffled it away. He had a particular fondness for rings. This developed into a passion, and something which occupied every waking minute. One day Charles popped his head through his door.
“Edmund”, he said, “are you in there?”
It was difficult to see in the clutter which seemed to accumulate quicker than dust. His sons cheery face emerged, surrounded by cases of beads, chests full of alter crosses, and rolls and rolls of fine silver chain. Archaic religious books were propped up on old pulpit stands.
“Yes, father, I’m here”, he answered.
“I’m thinking about going on a tour of Europe, why don’t you come along and keep me company?”
His son replied. “Father, it’s bad enough having to accompany you about over here, always speaking to animals, or singing those ludicrous ditties that pop into your head.”
“You’re not embarrassed of me, are you?” he said.
Silence issued from his son’s room.
“In that case you can come anyway, your old enough to be involved with household matters. Going abroad will be good as it means that you can learn more about the things I hold dear.”
There was a cry of protest, but it was cut short by his father, “Pack your bags!”
The reluctant Edmund came knocking at his door the next morning, his face looked like it had been stung by a wasp.
“Why the sour expression, my dear?”
He answered, “You know full well. I’m being dragged from school for this. A life of making chains in secret behind my desk would be far more worthy to my education, than tripping about the continent making observations about natural history. I have no interest in that!”
His father was genuinely outraged, he had always assumed that he will follow in his footsteps, as all diligent offspring do.
“I am hoping I can give you my first essay that I have been writing, to copy up, even train you as an editor in the future. Then there’s the materials for my wanderings too, down in South America, though a lot of this has been published already.”
His son looked dumbfounded, “I have my own passions father, the cloth is also calling. I wouldn’t have time to spend days, weeks, or months sitting about in tree trunks making observations about the wildlife. I’ve seen the carved-out tree trunk you disguise yourself in. People who come to visit think your insane, but they don’t realize how dedicated you are.”
Charles had been listening with rapt attention, now tears were welling up at the corner of his eyes, so much he’d put into all these projects. Hearing it from his son’s own tongue made it even more real.
“They think I’m an eccentric fool”, he said. “Somebody harmless who talks a lot of rubbish. I’ll show them! The discoveries I made about curare in South America are probably one of the biggest leaps that’s been made in modern science to date.”
As if to prove a point, he called for several men from the estate to give him a hand. They came running, used to such odd requests he might make. He leapt about and gesticulated in the air as they approached.
“I want to do an experiment on a donkey to see if curare works as a paralyzing agent”, he said.
One of the men replied, dubiously, “Sounds like a lot of hard work!”
Another retorted, “Give the man a chance, what findings are made without hours of ingenious investigation?”
His excitement was enough to carry them along, and within minutes he had both running to collect various pieces of equipment that were required, as well as stringing up the poor beast itself. It hung securely with its limbs bound together, head dangling down.
“Bring curare from my room”, he said.
Some of the men ran off to collect this rare and vital drug, which he extracted from the tribesmen’s darts and arrows. They came with a small vial containing milligrams of the substance, plus several arrows, which they gave to Charles. He took the curare from the bottle and smeared it across the tips. Then he pulled one of the donkey’s forelimbs towards him, and calm as you please slowly inserted it into the throbbing vein in its hairy leg. The whole of its body reacted by buckling and spasming, then it went dead, seeming to hang limply and as if with no power of its own. Charles approached its nostril.
“It’s not breathing”, he said.
“He’s killed it”, one of the men said.
“Bring me a pair of bellows”, he called.
“What does he want those for, to start a fire!”, one scoffed.
“Don’t query, just bring them quick”, another said.
A pair of bellows were handed to Charles who proceeded to thrust them deep into the mouth of the creature, right down to its throat. Then clamping its mouth tightly shut so no air will escape he started pumping. The effect was instantaneous, the lungs began to work of their own accord, and within minutes the donkey was breathing regularly again.
“That poor animal doesn’t realize how close it just came”, one of them said. “That was some trick master, you are like a god granting life in that way.”
Charles mumbled, “That’s nothing, wait and see how well it works on humans.”
“Please don’t start experimenting on us!”, one cried.
There was no answer from Charles as he ran off to find his son.
“Edmund, Edmund”, he called. “We will set off tomorrow at dawn.”
The next morning far earlier than he had arranged he rapped on his son’s door. A croaky voice came from within, and before he had chance to climb out of bed, comb his hair, wash his teeth, and collect the possessions he needed, Charles was bearing down upon him.
Within a few hours they were ready to leave. They will travel via London for the night, then onto Dover to catch a ferry. A carriage was called, they alit, and within minutes they were jostling down a country cobbled lane. In a blur fields, haystacks, and trees flew past before they reached the main highway.
Charles said, “An inn in Northamptonshire’s been recommended, we can stop there for lunch and to refresh the horses. Then we must be on our way again. I have promised that will be at Darwin’s for seven in the evening.”
Edmund grunted in mute agreement, then amused himself by staring out at the speeding scenery. After a break, they travelled for several hours. The horses had been sweating hard, and they were pulled over with a heavy lurch of the reins.
“We are here!”, shouted Charles.
“Where?” replied Edmund.
“The greatest naturalist who ever lives”, he said.
They drive between an elegantly swaying avenue of pines, that led to a parking space before the house. As they got closer a young man with a huge beard ran out to greet them.
“It’s you Charles”, he cried.
“Unload your bags, I have much to tell you about my latest observations of the environment. And who is this dear young chap?”
“It’s my son”, he said, proudly.
Charles Darwin ushered them into the house, where an army of servants were ready to wait on them hand and foot.
“Your wish is their desire”, he said.
They made themselves comfortable and were consumed in deep conversation. They both had wise words to share with each other, speaking about Waterton’s writing and their travels.
Darwin said, “When you leave, you must take along John Edmonstone. He’s a talented slave I’ve had the good fortune to encounter. I brought him back with me.”
Waterton said, “What’s he so skilled at?”
Darwin replied, “this man has a natural leaning for taxidermy. From what I’ve seen of his technique I can see him growing well in your company. Please do me the favour of taking him off my hands?”
Waterton agreed, “No problem, I will ensure that he has the best tuition from myself, then I will set him out on his own course.”
The trade was made, and the next day the four of them departed for Dover. John was a likable soul, congenial, and always with a joke or a kind word at his lips. He had had many adventures during his short life, and he would describe them in vivid detail for his listeners. Edmund sat with starry eyes becoming increasingly enamoured at the idea of following in the footsteps of a great and worldly explorer.
Soon they reached the ferry and climbed onboard. On the deck of the boat as it sped out of the harbour, each surveyed the landscape, the chalky white cliffs, and the fast-setting sun. Millions of birds were arching over their heads, many making their homes in the rock.
Darwin pulled Edmund to one side and said. “Watch how the bird’s fuss and fight, they have their natural predators, but some species will grow stronger and end up conquering the others. That’s called evolution, the survival of the fittest.”
Edmund replied with a gobsmacked sigh. He pulled at his father’s arm, then the four of them sit down to plan their trip.
Waterton said, “First we will go to the holy city of Innsbruck in Austria. I want to visit so that God will smile gladly on our actions, activities, and movements. From there we will depart to Rome to be horrified at the cruel and barbaric approach of the locals, towards their wildlife. The last stop will be at Belgium to see an esteemed friend, who is the new charge of an extremely intelligent primate.”
Edmund piped up, “Sounds gory and gruesome.”
The four of them decided to sleep on the deck as it was a balmy evening, and they were all used to sleeping under the stars.
The early morning sun dappled on the deck, waking and calling them to rise. First up was Waterton, who seized the arm of Darwin.
“Look”, he said, “I can see land.”
“It’s true the flatlands of France are fast approaching”, Darwin replied.
Young Edmund was up next rubbing his bleary eyes. He pulled on Johns arms to wake him, then gave a cheer of jubilation at the prospect of their imminent destination. Within an hour they will arrive and be docking, then can proceed south through France, towards Austria. As they found the correct road another conversation was struck up.
“Whilst I was in Brazil, I walked 600kms during rainy season, barefoot.”
John replied, “That’s some feat, but how did it occur that you had no footwear?”
Waterton said, “My shoes fell apart, so I had no choice, but it gave me a great sense of martyrdom. I would like to do the same on our journey to the holy city.”
There was a groan of distress, and a blush crept across the face of Edmund.
He said, “Where does he get these ludicrous ideas? And does this mean we all have to do the same? I’m not walking all that way just to prove my allegiance to the church.”
John murmured in agreement, “Let him do his own thing”, he said.
They pulled up to one side and allowed him to remove his shoes and socks, then he hobbled unsteadily to his feet.
“Looks like he’s struggling already”, said Edmund, “he’ll never make it to Innsbruck.”
John said, “We’ll keep an eye on him.”
They set off with Waterton at the rear, doing his best to keep up with them.
“We will have to walk like snails,” Edmund said.
“It’s an incredibly long way”, said Darwin, partly worried whether his counterpart will be able to go the distance. Maybe he’s trying to prove something, he thought.
They walked in silence for a while before taking their first break.
“We must pull over”, Darwin said, “to sleep, eat, and quench our thirst.”
Waterton said, “If I’m martyring myself in this way, I should be enduring great physical discomfort. And depriving myself of basic needs.”
Edmund said, “You’re mad, you will kill yourself father.”
Waterton stared into the distance as if focusing on an indeterminate point in the distance and waited for them to finish.
“He looks like a mule”, Edmund said.
Once they were done, they set off, with Waterton straggling even further behind. The other three slowed their pace, and they became embroiled in conversation as to his father’s stubbornness. As well as how long it might take them to arrive. His feet were beginning to become bloodied now, and the closer they came to the holy city, the worse they got.
“Stop!”, cried Waterton. “I can’t go on, I’m in terrible pain, my blisters have burst, and blood is gushing from my feet.”
They pulled over to have a rest and examined his feet, they were throbbing and caked in red scabs. The blood and skin had coagulated with a combination of sticks, stones, and dust from the ground. He can barely hobble, and his energy is extremely low.
“Regardless”, he said, “I want to push on, I know the holy city is nearby. There are nine martyred saints in my family, I want to be the tenth!”
This time when they leave, two of them support Waterton using their shoulders. He limped between his partners desperate not to put any extra pressure on his aching feet. They rounded a corner and to the left was a small group of bystanders. As they saw him walk past, they all fell to the ground, grovelling and offering prayers up.
“This must be a saint on his way up to the holy city”, one declared.
Darwin, Edmund, and John looked at each other, not sure whether to laugh or cry.
“More like imbecile”, said Edmund.
Darwin replied, “At least now he’s proved his point, and we can continue without more drama or setbacks.”
They spent the day at Innsbruck in the cathedral and touring other places of well-known pilgrimage. Before returning for the night in a local inn and pledging to set off early the next day. Dawn had barely lifted, and they were on another dusty road which wound south, this time taking them through the Alps towards Italy.
Waterton agreed to buy a pair of shoes before they left and was much happier company. Even taking time to be a guide for his son, pointing out various rare and endangered flower, tree, and shrub specimens that they saw along the way.
“We are making good time, maybe another couple of days on the road and we will be there”, said Waterton.
Darwin joined in, “I’ve heard great things about this city, the locals are well tuned into the animal world.”
“Really?” Edmund said.
Waterton said, “I have friends who work at the slaughterhouse, and they have promised to give me full access, as well as a tour of their grounds and facility. I’ve been warned that it might be a gruelling experience, but happy to undergo.”
“What do you mean?” Edmund said.
“The ‘death chorus’ they call it; multiple animals being slaughtered.”
Darwin said, “I don’t mind coming along. It might help me to ponder the meaning of life. I’ve heard that people don’t have a problem in seeing death, because they kill a lot of animals themselves.”
Waterton said, “Very different from England then, we are so stuffy in our ways and what we will discuss.”
The next morning, they set off for a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. There was a huge barn out the back where the slaughter was carried out. And depending on what day it was various animals were driven in and out of the wooden gates that gaped open. Friday during winter was the turn of the pigs, and they stood outside waiting nonchalantly. Suddenly they can hear grunting, snorting, and squealing, trotters skidding on the muddy cobbles beneath as they tried to jump up and escape.
“What was that awful din?” John said.
“You’ll see”, said Waterton, “they must be here.”
At that moment, a peasant swine herder came ambling around the corner, concealed behind a cloud of dust. He was stood by the entrance with his arms raised and clapping. Most follow the sound, but any misguided and stubborn contenders were given a boot in the side. As the last few disappeared in, he slammed the door shut, then locked it with an immense iron key.
The peasant signalled to Waterton that they can access the building from a higher point up some stairs. They followed his instructions, alighting these, then came back down to the interior. Seven to eight hundred pigs were writhing about below, and these were taken off thirty or forty at a time into a separate enclosure for slaughter. The screaming of the pigs was so terrible it cut through you, gave a chill to your bones, made you shiver with fear.
“Father”, a tiny voice bleated, but Waterton was lost in a reverie.
Waterton watched as a huge puddle of blood surged across the courtyard. He noticed it change shape until it formed letters on the paving stones. Under his breath he read them.
“The bestiary is classified into three different forms of animal fantasy, Zoological, Field Vigilance, and Animalistic.” I am already closely allied with two but need to connect more with the animalistic, he thought. He kept watching as the letters revised themselves, then read again. “Zoological is the more exoticist type and covers the strangest types of animals and the most remote faunas, typically including the sea, rainforests, and the ‘hidden worlds’ of Australia, Madagascar. Field vigilance encompasses naturalists or others whose daily lives take them into the environments of jungles and woods, it includes birds and insects, but other kinds of animals may also occur. Animalistic focuses on transformation into different lifeforms, particularly their wildness, freedom, fierceness, lack of reason. This includes domestic mammals or those of the savannah.”
“Charles, Charles, Charles”, John repeated, as he shook his arm trying to bring him from his deep reflections.
Waterton replied, “Let’s go, we’ve seen all we need to, let’s leave at once for Belgium.”
He wandered out and the other three followed.
“It will take us approximately three days to make it to Antwerp, a long haul to be sure. But there are many things for us to see and do on our way.”
The next morning, they set off early. Darwin was out of the door before Waterton, Edmund, and John followed in their tracks. They had only travelled for half a day when John heard excited chatter coming from ahead.
Waterton said. “Darwin, I promise you, my latest essay contains such discoveries, you will not fault it. A blend of everything I have learnt so far, my wanderings, and my cherished younger years.”
Darwin replied, “If you want, I can read your essay, be the first person to cast a pair of eyes over it.”
Waterton thrust deep into his cloak and pulled out a dogeared copy written in an illegible hand. He handed it to Darwin.
“Let me stop for a minute, it will be easier to read, whilst not on the move.”
“Okay, lets pull over.”
Darwin found a place to make himself comfortable to read. Meanwhile, John and Edmund amused themselves by entertaining one another, teaching tricks. Edmund had always been one for practical jokes and spent many hours at school being disciplined for this.
Edmund said, “I’m enjoying the change, free of the iron hand.”
John replied, “Let me show you another trick. Quite often I will search about in the workshop for smaller taxidermized works, then scatter them around the house and garden. You should see how stumbling across a wolf, monkey, or vulture scares the life out of prospective master! I’ve got out of being swapped or passed on in this way, many times.”
Edmund replied, “So wily and clever.”
Darwin had almost finished the essay now and crept to the edge of his seat with excitement. As he hit the last few sentences, he fells straight to the floor. Waterton rans to catch him but was too slow.
“That’s genius”, he screamed as he leapt up. “Your ideas are in symmetry with mine, but you are older than me, so they are far better formulated. And your knowledge of taxidermy, it’s something to die for. John is going to be in for such a treat.”
Waterton basked in pride, of his own making and an outpouring from his dear friend.
“Darwin, you’ve made me a very happy man, your reassurance goes a long way to building up my confidence, many people think I’ve lost the plot.”
They kept discussing their plans, Darwin enlightened him about his own philosophies and put forward a prophecy that the two of them would meet again.
“Until that happens”, he said, “let’s make the best of our time in Europe together.”
Waterton said, “I have much to show you, still more when we get back to England. Some very hateful rumours have been going about back at home. People say I wear shoes too big for my feet, but I can’t see the problem with that. What’s wrong with going about in oversized boots?”
Darwin replied with tact, “It’s up to you what you do in your own property. Didn’t the visitor numbers just top seventeen thousand a year?”
“Yes”, said Waterton.
Darwin replied, “So what’s wrong with them? I can’t understand how people say they hate you and others say you’re a genius.”
Waterton went on, “And so what if I dip my clothes into that mercuric acid solution to weatherproof them! Some people even say I look like a spider after a long winter.”
Darwin said, “You must rise above it and develop a thick skin my friend, I know that sounds difficult at times.”
John and Edmund had been stood close by.
The minute Waterton saw them, he said. “Hasten, we have much distance to cover.”
They moved at a good rate of knots to keep up with the scudding clouds. Occasionally, they were overtaken by groups of peasants travelling from village to village, they had just done the harvest, and their carts were laden down with haybales, grain, and wheat.
John said to Edmund, “These people have a good life, they are free, they work and play hard. By the time they go home at the end of the day they feel satisfied. I feel like I could learn a lot from them to improve my attitude.”
Edmund replied, “You’re right, even with my limited life experience, I can see that these men have the right values, dedication, honesty, and tolerance.”
John said, “It’s a thin line as to whether you end up having to work for a master or not. If all people are so morally valued then we wouldn’t have a problem, but there’s some real tyrants out there.”
Edmund replied, “I’ve heard about how bad it is for slavery in South America. You’re just lucky to be out of there now, with the opportunity to set up yourself in business, and to learn a trade.”
“Too right”, said John, “all I’ve ever known is slavery, due to my skin colour I am doomed. Most of these men won’t have the same problems though.”
Edmund replied, “The ways things are is unfair. I will do my best to try to change people’s opinions as I grow up.”
“That’s reassuring to hear”, he said.
They had been on the road for three days now, and were in Belgium already, within an hour or so they will arrive at the great city of Antwerp. The hills, forests, fields, had given way to ramshackle and decrepit wooden terraces of housing. There was a river that they were following, it was brown and sludgy, and drained raw sewage directly into it.
Small boats ploughed up and down the river carrying all manner of loads, such as food and building materials. People leapt off one at the harbour, unloaded quickly, then were away. They ran around like mad men, as if everybody’s business was more important than the next. People tried to beat their neighbours back out onto the streets, so they all could all sit in a huge traffic jam that consisted of carts, carriages, animals, and humans.
“What chaos” said Waterton, “I’ll never find my dear friend Mr Kats in amidst all of this.”
Then as he stared through the blur of figures, and the din, he saw somebody ambling along with a gait he half recognized. Alongside him was a baboon. The animal was on a leash and wore a leather pair of blinkers, but it kept trying to dart out because of the constant distractions.
Waterton said, “I can see him, let’s make our way across”, and he signalled for the rest of the group.
Darwin said, “He’s there, I can see him, John and Edmund follow me.”
They all followed, and within minutes were bearing down on Mr Kats himself.
Waterton said, “This is my son, and these are two dear friends.”
They stepped forward to shake his hand, and the baboon approached them to shake theirs.
Darwin said, “This animal is very clever.”
Mr Kats replied, “Nice to meet you, I’ve endeavoured to bring her up well. The people of the city know both of us, and she’s never tried to attack anyone. To begin with the city folk thought I was mad, but they’ve soon become used to it, now many see her as a national mascot.”
“Impressive”, replied John, who had been allowing the baboon to eat a piece of celery from his hand. “She is like a gentle giant.”
Edmund was less at ease and won’t come any closer, just watched as the others talked and made friends with the baboon.
Waterton said, “What’s wrong? Are you afraid?”
Edmund replied, “Yes, I have my doubts.”
Then some people ran past and spat in their direction, one screamed.
“Run a mile, she’s from another planet!”
Mr Kats shouted back, “She’s tame and more peaceful than most of you! Those people who ran off fear anything that is different, doesn’t matter if it’s a human or not.” He said to the others.
Waterson said, “We will bear this encounter in mind. We are off back to England soon; Scarborough will be our first stop. They have an ape who has been indoctrinated into the way of humans. It’s sad really, apparently, she goes about performing domestic chores dressed as a woman. Her name is Jenny.”
Mr Kats replied, “That sounds horrific, barbaric, backward, who would ever have thought to do something so cruel and demeaning to an animal?”
Waterton said, “I’ll send you a letter, so you know how it goes.”
Mr Kats replied, “You must stay for a few days to get more friendly with my baboon, and to see the sights of the city.
Waterton said, “We really don’t have time.”
The encounter with the bestiary had been on his mind, he was struggling to think about anything else.
Mr Kats said, “Are you sure? I can see the boy would do well to become better acquainted with the baboon.”
Waterton turned to the others and replied, “Ok, we will stay for the night.”
They followed Mr Kats back to his residence; he was a well-off professor and lived in a huge sprawling villa a few blocks away. There was a courtyard in the middle and that was where the baboon lived and slept. He had tried to perfectly recreate the circumstances of the jungle by covering the floor with logs, straw, sticks, and boulders. He had planted bushes and tropical specimens such as palm, banana, and date trees. When they arrived, he gave them separate rooms, and an invitation to dinner that would be served at seven.
The guests scurried off and busied themselves getting refreshed. This was the first opportunity for a proper wash, for many days since being out on the road. Within the hour they had all met back at the dining room. It was a vast cavernous space, decked out with dusty paintings, and cobwebbed chandeliers dangled down. Mr Kats came in at that minute escorted by the baboon and sat himself at the head of the table.
“Let dinner commence”, he said.
Servants darted back and forth bringing them sweets and savoury treats. They ate pate, game, and the finest smoked meats and cheeses.
Edmund said, “This is some spread, and what will the baboon get?”
Mr Kats replied, “She’s happy with fruit and vegetables. Come, why not use this time to make your peace with her?”
Edmund said, “Okay, I’ll give it a try.”
Mr Kats offered him a piece of carrot which he held with his fingertips. Quaking with fear she might tear them off using her long talons. Edmunds eyes were shut but he could sense the carrot was gone, so he opened his eyes.
Edmund said, “She’s taken it without harming me!”
Mr Kats replied, “I think we’ve finally got over your lack of trust.”
The rest of the table talked quietly amongst themselves.
Waterton said, “Mr Kats, when we were in Rome, I had a vision of the bestiary.”
Mr Kats replied, “Explain more, what is it about?”
“I’m more in tune with the other two fantasies, field vigilance, and zoological through my daily activities as a naturalist. But the third is the one I need to become better acquainted with. The more aware of it I am, the better I will become at being able to tune into the artmaking process. It won’t make any difference to my taxidermy technique though.”
Darwin said, “Will you be able to understand the theory of evolution better?”
“Yes, replied Waterton. “Evolution is all around us, it’s in every thread of life.”
Darwin agreed, “It is.”
Waterton said, “It will improve my ability to understand the animal kingdom.”
Darwin replied, “Please teach me all you learn.”
The hour was late by now, and Mr Kats called for the plates, crockery, and leftover food to be cleared away.
Waterton said, “Let’s go to bed, I want to be up bright and early in the morning.”
Up at dawn, before the first gentle rays of sunlight have pierced the clouds. A teary farewell to Mr Kats, their time in his company had been truly character building.
Darwin said, “It’s been inspiring.”
Edmund and John ran to hug him, both overcome by the situation, and deeply thankful in their respective ways.
They gathered their meagre belongings and made off. By the end of the day, they were at Zeebrugge to make the overnight crossing to Hull. On the way there had been barely a murmur from the group. So much had happened during the trip. Waterton and Darwin would be more in tune with their evolutionary cycle, Edmund’s whole perspective on the world had changed.
A boat glided into the beautiful harbour. They boarded and within an hour were soundlessly crossing the deep. On the deck they slept, and to either side the horizon stretched into infinite blue. By morning they were approaching the gentle sloping fields of Yorkshire. Waterton’s a Yorkshireman himself and gave a cry from the bottom of his lungs. It was with great pride and because he had an intense connection with the land.
“We are home!”
Edmund dropped to the floor with embarrassment.
As the boat docked the passengers descended from a wooden wheeled structure. They waited patiently for a baggage handler to bring their possessions, then they set off walking the last leg to Scarborough.
“It’s only twenty miles”, Waterton said. “We should be there by teatime; I’ve heard good and bad things about the place, as well as the barbarity of the people that live there. It seems as if anything is game for their entertainment, hence the situation with Jenny.”
Darwin said, “What’s great about the place?”
Waterton replied. “Apparently, they are very hospitable to strangers, but only if you look exactly as they do. I fear John will be in for some abuse. Edmund should be able to hold his own. Darwin and I may even get some stick.”
They began walking more slowly after that conversation, unwilling to arrive, worried what they might find. As it happened on the outskirts of the town a small fair had been set up, and they must pass through its fringes. There were cages containing strongmen, those with hydrocephalus, Siamese twins, and giants. All overseen by a man with a whip who lashed it without mercy.
“Roll up, roll up, a farthing each to see my circus of freaks”, he cried.
John ducked behind Waterton’s back to cover himself, clinging on to Edmund’s hand for courage.
Darwin stepped forward bravely and asked. “Could you please escort us to where we might find Jenny?”
The ringleader replied, “Keep walking to the back, then bear to the right, follow your nose, she’s incredibly smelly.”
Waterton said, “Thanks very much”, and threw a handful of coins his way.
They filed through one by one, as the tented structure got darker. They were feeling their way through by touch alone, one hand on a banister and the other clasped onto their partner’s shoulder. Then they were thrown into an open space. A pungent aroma hit them; the floor was knee deep with straw. They waded through finding themselves up against bars, to their horror a diminutive female ape stood before them. She was fumbling about at a cooker frying herself sausages and wore a chef’s hat. Two grown men sat close by, one bellowed.
“Bring us two cups of tea!”
She ran to get their orders obediently.
Waterton said, “She’s only doing it through mortal fear. The best we can do is make observations about her health from where we are. Unless we can find a way to rescue her, take her away from all of this?”
Darwin replied, “She won’t last long at this place, I’m sorry to say. What a positively awful and depressing place. If we can save her that would be amazing, but how?”
John piped up, “From my experience these are the lowest types of people. They won’t stop fighting us every step of the way. They are vicious and aggressive and won’t stop at harming any of us. Is it worth losing four lives for the sake of one animal?”
The opinion was divided, two for, two against.
Waterton said, “For the sake of all of us we agree to leave, to save our skins.”
Before they left Waterton rushed back to give Jenny’s owner a large sum of money. To ensure that her body would be sent to him once she passed away.
They rushed out using an alternative route so they could avoid the sneering evil ringleader. Once they had escaped his prying eye, they were home free and ran for the outskirts of town. The main road to Wakefield was not far away, and before long they could slow up their pace and had gathered their thoughts.
Waterton said, “What an awful experience that was.”
Darwin and the rest of the group agreed.
Darwin said, “At least they promised to send her body over once she’s done for, but what consolation is that!”
Edmund said, “you’re right, sometimes it’s better for creatures who have such a dreadful existence to be put out of their suffering.”
John agreed, “Yes, it puts them out of their misery.”
They plodded on thinking about life, death, and the futility of it all.
Waterton looked across at the long faces and said. “Just think of the animals of the jungles, forests, and woods out there, such vitality everywhere.”
Darwin agreed, “It’s true. But what happened with Jenny is the opposite of evolution, more of a degenerative step.”
Waterton said, “Society should be progressive rather than regressive.”
They had been conversing for a while, not noticing the fields to the right and the left of them skip by.
“Soon we will be home”, Waterton said.
Edmund gave a sarcastic cry of joy, “I can finally be reunited with my two aunts.”
As they drew closer to the estate, they saw a large group of men coming towards them. They were availed of their bags and possessions, then the men gave a cheer for their master who had come home.
“What a relief”, one said. “I can’t wait for the experiments to begin, again”.
“He’ll probably by busy with writing up his travels, as well as working on his essays”, said another.
They surged into the grounds of the manor each heading for their respective quarters of the house. John was allocated a space in the basement to sleep.
Waterton said, “Lets sleep for the night, John, I will show you my technique tomorrow.”
They headed off to their beds. First thing in the morning a delivery had been made, it sat in a timber faced box with bars in the courtyard. Waterton rushed up curious to know what it was. He tore frantically at the paper to unwrap it and pulled it free. In a cage sat the decomposing body of Jenny. Waterton retched and did his best not to throw up.
“That poor beast”, he said.
John came running up to see what all the commotion and fuss had been. He rounded the corner and was faced with a scene of intense tragedy and sadness. Waterton sat stroking the poor animal’s hand, which was outstretched from the box.
John said, “Waterton try not to be sad, remember your own words about how life continues. Imagine her in animal heaven. Or with the Buddhist philosophy of reincarnation, she might be sitting amongst us already.”
Waterton was sobered up by this idea, and the thought that she might live again.
“Let’s get on with this then”, he said.
Motioning for John to follow him. They both took a corner of the box and crept steadily out to where he kept his taxidermy equipment. There was a small stone cottage a few hundred yards from the house, they took it there, bursting through the door as they arrived.
“Hoist it onto the workbench”, he said, “wait until I bring more supplies of mercuric chloride acid. Bring me something to scrape the organs out with, and a scalpel to cut the body up.”
John came back brandishing a sparkling blade, which he handed over to Waterton. Charles took it from him, spread the beast out, then made the first incision. The innards gushed out.
“John, bring a bucket, quick!”
John ran and fetched one positioning it so nothing would go to waste.
“Put all the organs to one side in neat piles”, said Waterton. “Next step is to take a long brush and give it all a good clean, as best you can. Then you need to tie together any orifices, nostrils, mouth, ears, genitalia, arsehole, anywhere else it might spill out from. Then you are ready to make your first coating of acid. Once that goes on it soaks into the skin, covers all pores, sets the teeth, fingernails, and hair into place.”
He allowed John to carry on with the work himself, now. He busied himself with the various instructions, following them meticulously. Waterton watched over his shoulder to observe his method. He could see he was cautious, but for a beginner pretty good.
“Amazing technique, you’ve listened and followed the process well”, he said.
John was still buried in his work, and called back, “Come and have a look later on.”
Waterton walked off and occupied himself cleaning up, he fetched a mop and bucket and went at the splatter of blood on the window.
“So gruesome” he muttered under his breath, “the neighbours will think I’m bloodletting again.”
He glanced over and saw John was close to finishing, so he stepped over to give him final remarks and feedback on his performance.
“You’ll be fine to start your own business now. I’m very happy with my own technique, I’m thinking of donating a piece to the British Museum in the future.”
John had heard of this worthy establishment and was suitably impressed.
“So, your work will become part of their collection?”
“Exactly” replied Waterton.
“I feel honoured to be your apprentice, I will always tell people you were my teacher.”
Waterton gave a proud smile. “Now we must make our way back upstairs.”
Waterton saw Edmund on the way back.
“Go out to the garden and find your aunts. Tell them we have arrived home, and things will be assuming as normal again.”
Waterton headed up to his study where he could get some peace and quiet, slammed the door shut behind him, then proceeded to immerse himself into a dream. The higher state of contacting the bestiary. All around the room were taxidermized animals, each on its own shield. He threw himself into a rocking chair, better to gently ease himself into the required mindset.
Then half dozing and half unconscious, he began reminiscing about his wild adventures, trying to capture a caiman by riding on its back, but this time he imagined himself in the place of the animal. Instead of wriggling about on its slippery scales, trying to keep balance and not fall off. Waterton was the creature now, making him appreciate that being able to put himself in the place of an animal, promoted an understanding that enriched his work. This was the connection with the animalistic that he so desired.
His conversations with Darwin about evolution came back to his mind, and the memory of his trip to see a captive ape at a travelling fare in Scarborough. The resemblance between apes and humans was seen by many to be a connection with our evolutionary past. Dressing them in human clothes was a way to allow closeness to be recognized, but at the same time to be able to poke fun at them.
With that he fell back into a deep slumber induced by the fumes of the setting mercuric chloride. At that moment, a vision of a hybrid animal made up of multiple parts assailed him. Kangaroo, mole, sloth, bat, dog, lemur, giraffe, elephant, rhinoceros, donkey, cat, pig, polar bear, deer, lion, wolf, horse, platypus and anteater.
“These are the creatures of the animalistic fantasy which I haven’t made contact with yet”, he said to himself.
Then he recalled a conversation with Darwin about evolution, and how certain attributes helped them to survive and adapt better as a species.
It came towering from the haze, brutally butchered together, and he could see it in all its glorious goriness. It featured the long ears of a donkey sprouting from its midriff so it could hear better. Partly wrapped in the rhinoceros’s armour-like skin which allowed it to thermoregulate. A giraffe’s elongated neck came shooting out from the shoulder like a second head, so it could forage in the higher branches. The elephant’s wonderous trunk protruded from one of the heads so it could pick up logs, dust, or water to cool itself down and quench its thirst. An anteater’s 2-metre-long tongue came lashing from the end of the trunk, so it could penetrate deep into ant’s nests. From the bottom, the whole ghastly construction was supported by four legs, each featured the horses one toed hoof so they could gallop faster.
“Father, father, father”, Edmund said.
Gradually Waterton came to, being rudely awoken by Edmund shaking his arm. He spat out words, but there was no coherence to any of them. Edmund was alarmed, worried there might be something wrong with him. He calmed, becoming less agitated, and his heart rate became less erratic.
“Edmund” he cried, “is that you? Where are John and Darwin?”
Edmund replied, “John is fine, since you left him, he’s been brushing up on his newly acquired knowledge. Darwin is in the front room still, why are you worried?”
“I must speak to him and tell him what I have learnt about the bestiary. Please tell him to come as soon as he can.”
Edmund hollered for Darwin who came running.
Waterton said, “Darwin, whilst I was under, I discovered the secrets of evolution through the bestiary. It requires the combination of both elements, then you can access the bestiary state of mind. With this you can transform yourself into any of those given fantasies, then explore evolution through that creature.”
“Wow”, replied Darwin. “This can really work and means we don’t need to physically enter the body of the animal in question, we can do it by stealth, using their own mindset. I can be a creature of the deep, or from the hidden worlds of Madagascar, or of the tropical rainforests, or the birds and insects of the wood, or of domestic and African savannah mammals.”
“Exactly!”, cried Waterton.
