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In the little town of
Haddington during last century-several generations of Ramsays carried on
the craft of dyers. At length one of the family, William by name, the
son and grandson of previous Williams who had been content to pursue
their calling by the banks of the East Lothian Tyne, determined to push
his fortune in a wider sphere. He appears to have been a man of high
principle and great energy, wide-minded and good tempered, with a strong
bent towards chemical pursuits, and not a little originality as an
investigator. About the year 1785 he went to Glasgow, and became there
junior partner in the firm of Arthur and Turnbull, manufacturers of
wood-spirit and pyroligneous acid. Besides making dyers' chemicals and a
variety of Prussian blue still known as 'Turnbull's Blue,' this firm was
the first to manufacture 'chloride of magnesia' as a bleaching liquor,
and also 'bichrome.' Had William Ramsay patented some of his processes,
it was generally believed among his friends that he might have become
one of the richest men in the west of Scotland. But he did not consider
himself entitled to retain for his own behoof a discovery which, :f made
widely known, would benefit the general industry of the country, and he
was content to remain comparatively poor
The requirements of his
business made him an excellent practical chemist, but his interest in
chemistry reached far beyond these limits. In 1800 he founded the
'Chemical Society of Glasgow,' into which, by the energy of his example
and the kindly courtesy of his manner, he brought those of his
fellow-citizens who were interested in the progress of theoretical as
well as practical chemistry. He was chosen first President, and among
his associates were the well-remembered chemist and mineralogist, Thomas
Thomson, Professor of Chemistry in the Glasgow University, and Waiter
Crum, of Thornliebank. Two years later, on the foundation of a wider
brotherhood of science by the establishment of the 'Philosophical
Society of Glasgow,' the Chemical Society was voluntarily dissolved in
favour of the new organisation, which thus received, we may believe, not
a little of the vigour which has enabled it to flourish till now as a
centre of scientific life in the midst of the mercantile atmosphere of
Glasgow. William Ramsay's reputation as a chemist spread outside his own
country. His house was one of the attractions to foreign chemists who
came to Glasgow; and even long after his death his widow received visits
from such men as L!ebig, who remembered her husband's meritorious work.
In the year 1809 William
Ramsay married Elizabeth Crombie, a second cousin of his own, daughter
of Mr. Andrew Crombie, writer in Edinburgh. The Crombies, like the
Ramsays, had for many generations been connected with the trade of
dyers. There is a tradition that during the famous Porteous Riot in
Edinburgh in 1736, so graphically described in Scott's Heart of
Midlothian, the mob, coming down the West Bow with their wretched
victim, stopped at the shop of Crombie, the dyer, with the object of
hanging Porteous from the pole above the door, when a shout arose that
it would be a shame to do the deed at the door of so worthy a man. The
crowd, determined as it was on vengeance, recognised the justice of this
protest, and passed down into the Grassmarket, where they made use of
the pole of another dyer not so popular among his townsmen. The last
representative of the family who still carried on the trade of dyer in
Edinburgh was a not less worthy citizen—John Crombie, who, firm in the
ancient ways, went about in a tail-coat and ' stock' up to the end of
his life, in 1874. He was a cousin of Sir Andrew C. Ramsay, who often
stayed in his hospitable house during visits to Edinburgh.
Mrs. Ramsay was a woman
of strongly-marked character, uniting a firmness of purpose with a
gentleness and sweetness of nature that gave her remarkable influence
over all who came in contact with her. Clever and wise, she had had her
natural powers quickened and trained by an excellent education. She was
beloved by the young, for whom her face used to light up with a cordial
welcome. In the esteem and affections of her sons she ever held the
foremost place. Her husband died in 1827, and her circumstances became
thereafter somewhat straitened, but her cheery spirit and unruffled
temper enabled her to keep a happy, though modest home for her children.
She survived until the year 1858. The children of this marriage were
four in number—Eliza, born in 1810, William in 1811, Andrew Crombie in
1814, and John in 1816.
In this well-ordered
household, where both the father and mother had read widely, much was
done to foster a love of literature among the younger members. It was
one of the practices of the family that on at least one morning of the
week French should be the language of the breakfast-table. On other
mornings a paper from the Spectator would be read, or a passage from
some standard English author. And doubtless the achievements of science,
as far as they could be made intelligible and interesting, were often
subjects of conversation.
Such was the household in
which Andrew Crombie Ramsay was born on the 31st January 1814. Of his
early years little record has been preserved. From his mother's letters
we learn that when five years old, during a painful operation on one of
his fingers, he showed such self-possession as to earn from the surgeon
the encomium of being 'the most determined little fellow he had ever
seen.' In a letter written to his wife in 1854, when his eldest daughter
was a child, he says: 'I fancy I see Ella in the hayfield. These early
days are never lost. I recollect them on rare occasions. I remember the
first time I saw cowslips in a field ; how amazed and charmed I was !
The mind drinks in beauty in early life that never leaves it, if of good
quality. Happy is the child whose first impressions are not of smoke,
bricks, and gutters.'
For some time his health
appears to have been delicate. At nine or ten years of age he was
removed from Glasgow, and sent to the Parish School at Saltcoats, a
little village on the coast of Ayrshire, where the sea-air might enable
him to gain strength, and throw off his ailments. An observant boy could
hardly have been placed in a position better fitted to stimulate his
faculties. A sea - beach strewn with pebbles and shells lay in front of
him, with rocks over which he could climb, and pools wherein he might
bathe, or watch the movements of the creatures left by the tide. To the
south a range of sand-dunes stretched for miles along the coast,
mounting into ridges and sinking into hollows, which a young imagination
could easily transfigure into ranges of mountains and lines of valley,
interspersed with bare sandy plains and recesses that might typify
trackless deserts—a lonely region, and a very paradise of boyhood. Then,
in the interior, a long sweep of upland rose northward from the shore,
commanding from its breezy heights a wide expanse of the Firth of Clyde,
with the blue hills of Cantyre and Arran, sometimes even those of the
north of Ireland, closing in the distance. On the lower grounds many a
dell and ravine served as channels for streams which, haunted by trout
and minnow, wandered through woodlands where many a bird built its nest,
and where with the changing seasons came the successive attractions of
blackthorn, may-blossom, blackberries, wild cherries, and hazel-nuts.
There were likewise not a few ruined castles and crumbling peels, which
an adventurous boy might climb, and where a contemplative one could find
material for many a pleasant reverie. We can hardly doubt that
surroundings such as these must have quickened in young Ramsay that love
of nature, that delight in antiquities, and that devotion to out-of-door
pursuits which formed such strong features in his character.
From Saltcoats he was
eventually brought back to Glasgow, to continue his education at the
Grammar School there. Mr. James King, probably his only surviving
schoolmate, has kindly supplied the following notes about his
school-days: 'Andrew was always cheerful and full of fun, so much so
that he was nicknamed "Appybe" (happy bee). He was our leader in the
stone-fights with the Camlachie boys. He attended Mr. Dvmock's class at
the Grammar School. When he was a child, a lady who had called was
telling Mrs. Ramsay what a good child her lost son was, when Andrew,
looking up to his mother, said, "Mother, I would not like to be a good
bairn; good bairns aye die." He was very fond of dogs. I remember his
great grief at being obliged to drown Puck for biting the postman.'
He lost his father in the
summer of 1827. Twenty years afterwards, on the anniversary of this sad
event in his life, he wrote as follows: 'My father died this day twenty
years at Roseneath. I was then between thirteen and fourteen, and
recollect it well. We had been there about a week. He was very ill on
the way down in the steamboat, having had an additional slight shock the
very night before we started. Willie was sent up from Roseneath a day or
two before his death. I accompanied him as far as Ardincaple Ferry, and
watched him across. It was a fine day, but blew hard. On the way back I
recollect playing with flowers, so strange is it (I believe with all
men) that even in great distress the mind occupies itself with trifles.
I also recollect during this week of severe illness my mother told me to
take a book and amuse myself. It was Shakespeare. I read Julius Caesar
the first play of Shakespeare I ever read, and even then it highly
interested me. Willie brought down Drs. Coldstream and Buchanan with
him. My father died, I think, shortly after they arrived, having been
speechless for some time before. I did not see him die, having, if I
recollect right, left the room in great distress some half-hour before.
My mother prayed aloud soon after, most passionately and fervently; so
did Dr. Coldstream. Curiously enough, none of our relations came to aid
the widow and her children up to town, but Mr. Napier, the engineer,
came down of his own accord in one of his own steamboats, and took on
himself most kindly all the arrangements. My uncles arrived the day of
the funeral. My mother threw herself into her brother Andrew's arms, and
said, "Oh Andrew!"
'The funeral was large
and imposing. He was carried "shoulder high" to the Ramshorn Churchyard,
and buried in the Walkinshaw ground.
'By and by, shortly
after, my troubles in life began. Willie was apprenticed to Napier, the
engineer, and I was sent to Mr.-'s counting-house.'
The boy's education was
thus prematurely cut short, for in the straitened circumstances in which
the widow found herself after her husband's death, she deemed it
necessary that she should take boarders, and that her sons should, as
early as possible, begin the active business of life. Andrew was
intended for a mercantile career, and went when a mere boy into the
office to which he refers in the preceding extract. After being some
time there he removed to the warehouse of a firm of linen merchants in
Glasgow—a situation in which he seems to have been specially unhappy,
for mention of the misery he there endured occurs in his diaries and in
his family correspondence long years after he had become a successful
man of science. He once came upon one of these old masters of his in a
little inn in Wales, and the following entry occurs in his journal of
that day 'After dinner an old man, whom I had observed promenading the
road before the inn, came into the room and took off his hat; his hair
was bleached. In an instant a recollection flashed upon me. I started up
and stretched out my hand, crying, "Mr. -, I am delighted to see you,"
for my heart warmed towards him, in spite of all his want of
consideration and kindness when long ago I sat, a boy, at a desk in his
office. How changed care and anxiety have made him! He is an old, old
man, though only sixty-one, and has been very ill.'
There never appears to
have been any question in the family but that Andrew was to devote
himself to mercantile pursuits. Yet, from the very outset, he kept his
interests broad, and made amends for his curtailed education by
cultivating his mind with wide reading. His natural tastes led him to
continue the literary pursuits that had from his early years been so
well fostered at home. He was an omnivorous reader, and acquired a
facility in expressing himself in clear, vigorous language.
An interesting relic of
this period of his life has survived in the shape of a few numbers of a
manuscript periodical, written by him and a few young men of similar
tastes. He acted as editor, and the paper circulated among the families
and friends of the contributors during the years 1835 and 1836. It bore
the name of 'Ramsay's Miscellaneous Journal,' and upon the wrapper of
each number, in the handwriting of the editor, some appropriate motto
appeared from a play of Shakespeare or a poem of Pope. The articles
contributed by him included some nightmare hallucinations and sketches
of character, with occasional sonnets and odes, more or less grotesque
in subject and treatment. The concluding number closes with an editorial
farewell: 'May our journal rest quietly in its grave; and if ever its
pages should be used to light your pipes, peace be with its ashes!'
Though he had not himself
matriculated at the University of Glasgow, he came into close personal
relations with some of its professors and many of its students. Chief
among his academical friends and advisers was Dr. J. P. Nichol, the
well-known and accomplished Professor of Practical Astronomy. To this
sympathetic associate he owed more than to any other for the guidance
and encouragement which eventually led him into the career of a man of
science. Among the young men then attending the University his closest
friend was Lyon Playfair, now Lord Playfair, who was one of the boarders
in Mrs. Ramsay's house.
In pursuance of the
intention that he should follow a mercantile profession, Ramsay, about
the year 1837, entered into partnership with a Mr. Anderson as dealers
in cloth and calico. The firm took an office in the Candleriggs of
Glasgow, and carried on business for some three years. But the venture
was not successful, and the copartnery was dissolved, leaving Ramsay
poorer in purse, somewhat enfeebled in health, and rather depressed in
spirits.
It was natural that these
successive disappointments should create a strong revulsion in his mind
against an occupation which had never had great attraction for him. In a
letter to his brother William, written in 1846, when he had thoroughly
established his position in the Geological Survey, he refers to these
early and bitter experiences of his life: 'You must bear in mind how
unhappily I was placed —first with -, when a system of miserable petty
tyranny was carried on from beginning to end, with other disagreeables
going much against the grain; then with -, a falling, low concern from
the beginning, and then something still worse behind.
The island of Arran has
been for the last two or three generations one of the chief centres of
attraction in the west of Scotland. To the inhabitants of Glasgow it has
offered a much-prized retreat, where pure air and charming scenery can
be reached after a journey of only a few hours. It was the custom of the
Ramsay family, and of many families of their acquaintance, to spend as
much of the summer as possible in this delightful island. In those days
the accommodation to be had in Arran was of a far more primitive kind
than it is generally now. Almost the only available lodging was to be
found in the little thatched cots of the peasantry, and the unpretending
farmhouses, where the rooms were few and small, and the furnishing
generally scanty. Yet into one of these lowly dwellings a large family
would contrive to squeeze itself, laughing at the discomfort with the
light-heartedness of holiday-makers who were prepared to enjoy
everything. The conventionalities of town life were left behind. Except
for the hours of meals and of sleep, and the intervals of bad weather,
the time of the visitors was spent entirely out of doors. Bathing,
boating, climbing, and walking or driving to different parts of the
island filled up each day, and the evenings brought pleasant
interchanges of hospitality, with music and dance and endless merriment.
If at the end of the week the heads of families brought down with them
more guests than the capacities of the cottages—elastic as these
were—could accommodate, there was always the homely and comfortable
hostelry of Mrs. Jameson to fall back upon, with the calm bay in front,
the Castle woods behind, and the noble cone of Goatfell towering into
the sky beyond them.
Among the reminiscences
of this pleasant Highland inn I recall the eccentricities of a
half-witted but pawky attendant, who used to be employed in
miscellaneous errands, and had a specially pronounced love of brandy. On
one occasion he was pushing his boat down the beach, when two visitors
came up and asked where he was bound for. He answered that he was going
across the bay to the Corriegills shore for a bag or two of potatoes.
The gentlemen asked to be allowed to accompany him; a request with which
Sandy willingly complied, the more especially as they volunteered to do
the rowing if he would steer. Having crossed the bay, they were coasting
quietly past the huge boulder of granite which, lying on the red
sandstones, forms so notable a landmark on that part of the shore.
Directing the attention of his crew to this object, Sandy remarked:
'Maybe ye'll no believe me, but if anybody climbs to the tap o' that
stane and cries as loud as he likes, there's naebody can hear him.' This
statement, as he expected, was received with a smile of derision,
whereupon he insisted that he would wager them a bottle of brandy that
it was true. So they drew to land, and Sandy, jumping ashore, was
speedily on the top of the boulder, where he proceeded to open his mouth
and swing his body as if he were roaring with the strength of ten bulls
of Bashan, but without emitting a sound. ' Very extraordinary,' said his
friends, and they resolved to try the experiment themselves. So when
Sandy had descended, they proceeded, with rather less agility, to
clamber up the stone. When they were both on the top they proceeded to
shout with such vehemence that they might have been heard on the other
side of the bay. Sandy, however, stood on the shore below, putting his
hand behind each ear in turn to catch any sound that might come from the
boulder. They shouted to him until they were nearly hoarse, without
evoking one sign of recognition from him. At last coming down they
demanded if he meant to say that he had never heard them. Sandy had a
remarkable power of expressing astonishment by his mere looks, and
availing himself of this power, he loudly protested that he had never
heard one single sound from them, and, with a face of childlike
innocence, asked if they really had called out. He was allowed to pull
the boat back himself, but he had his bottle of brandy that evening.
Sixty years have passed
away since the time to which I am now referring; and though in this
interval Arran has altered far less than other places on the Firth of
Clyde, it has, nevertheless, undergone some marked changes. The old
village of Brodick, for instance, with its long row of thatched
cottages, has been removed. The old inn no longer 'invites each passing
traveller that can pay,' though the building still stands as part of the
offices of the Castle. The deserted pump-well remains to mark the centre
of the life of the vanished hamlet. A large hotel, with waiters and
other products of modern civilisation, has since risen at Invercloy, on
the south side of the bay, together with many slated houses; while the
inns all over the island, as well as the farm-houses and cottages, have
been much enlarged and improved. The young visitors of to-day would
probably look with disdain on the humble cots where their mothers and
grandmothers were contented and happy. But it may be doubted whether the
charms of this most delightful of islands are more appreciated than they
were in old days when the enjoyment of them was coupled with discomforts
now happily removed.
Since the early decades
of this century Arran has enjoyed a special reputation as a field for
geological study. Its mountainous northern half has been held to
represent the main structural features of the Scottish Highlands, while
its southern half has been regarded as affording examples of the younger
formations, and especially of the igneous rocks, which form a
conspicuous feature in the geology as well as the scenery of the
southern part of the opposite mainland. It has been described as
affording an epitome of the geology of Scotland, with all the salient
points of structure comprised within such narrow compass, and so clearly
displayed as to afford exceptional facilities for practical
investigation. Its coast-line supplies an almost continuous section of
the rocks, with admirable exposures of their various structures and
relations to each other, its streams, too, coursing for ages from the
watershed to the sea, have trenched their channels into the solid rock.
All over the island, crags and rugged knolls reveal the nature of what
lies beneath the surface, while the peaks and crests of the northern
mountain group form the background of the finest landscapes. Nowhere can
the influence of geological structure upon scenery be more clearly seen,
and nowhere is that influence displayed in forms that more emphatically
appeal to the imagination. It is a region where a slumbering love of
geological inquiry can hardly fail to be stimulated into activity, and
where a latent aptitude for such inquiry may easily be quickened into
life.
Such were the
surroundings amid which Ramsay spent the holidays of his boyhood and
youth. I have not been able to trace definitely the beginning and
earliest development of his enthusiasm for geology. There can be little
doubt, however, that, over and above the effect of his environment, he
owed much of the impulse which led him into the geological field to the
influence of two early friends. When still a boy at Saltcoats, he had
come into close contact with David Landsborough, with whom he then began
a life-long friendship. This genial man and enthusiastic naturalist,
born in 1779, became in 1811 minister of the parish of Stevenston, in
which part of the village of Saltcoats lies. He had from an early period
of his life devoted himself to the study of the botany and natural
history, not only of his own parish, but of the neighbouring region of
Ayrshire and of Arran. So ardent was his devotion to these pursuits, and
so successful his cultivation of them, that he was known as the Gilbert
White of the west of Scotland. He is said to have added nearly seventy
species to the previously known flora and fauna of Scotland. His
personal influence in communicating the contagion of his love of nature
is vividly remembered by those who knew him. As Ramsay came under this
influence when a mere boy, we can hardly doubt that it helped in giving
the bent to his future life-work.
The other friend, who
contributed still more to the determination of Ramsay's geological
career, was Professor Nichol, already referred to. Besides guiding the
young man's reading, this helpful mentor incited him to the undertaking
of definite pieces of geological field-work. Nichol, though not a
professed geologist, had himself read widely and critically in
geological literature; he was therefore well qualified to suggest lines
of inquiry, to appreciate the significance of new observations, and to
share in the pleasures and excitements of geological rambles. He, too,
used to spend his summer holidays in Arran, and while there enjoyed long
walks and talks with his young friend. If any stimulus to sustained
geological effort had been needed on Ramsay's part, it was amply
supplied by 'the Professor.' When the two friends were separated, long
letters of suggestion and advice would come from Nichol. The kindly and
helpful interest thus taken in him was always gratefully remembered by
Ramsay, who never ceased to look back upon the Professor of Astronomy as
his true father in science, to whose wise counsel and assistance he owed
the happy change from a merchant's office to the life of a professional
man of science.
The fame of Arran as a
happy hunting-ground for the geologist drew many men of note to visit
it. Of one of these visits Lord Playfair has been so good as to
communicate the following recollections:—
At the latter end of
April 1836, or beginning of May in that year, I was going down to Arran,
and was reading Lyell's Geology, which I had got as a prize at Graham's
Class of Chemistry. Sitting beside me in the steamboat was a charming
lady, who entered into conversation with me, and I showed her my book. I
expressed great admiration for the author, and she smiled, and then
called a gentleman from the other side of the steamer, to whom she
introduced his young admirer. This was my first introduction to the
Lyells. At Arran I used to help Mrs. Lyell in collecting shells, for at
that time I knew something of conchology, while Lyell geologised in the
interior of the island. Ramsay joined me in Arran after a few days, and
I told Mr. Lyell that my friend would like to help him in his
excursions, which thereafter they used to make together.
In the letter to Lyell,
given at p. 92 of this Memoir, Ramsay himself dates the beginning of his
serious study of geology from about the year 1836, and acknowledges his
great indebtedness to the illustrious author of the Principles of
Geology.
It is not possible now to
recover traces of the successive tours and excursions by which the young
geologist gradually filled up the geological map of Arran. He had been
preceded by several able observers, who had published accounts of the
structure of the island, notably by Macculloch, Jameson, Sedgwick,
Murchison, and Necker de Saussure. But their descriptions could not be
regarded as more than outlines of a wide subject, which would require
years of patient research before its details could be mastered. It was
with no idea of testing, still less of criticising, their labours that
Ramsay followed in their footsteps along the shores and up the glens. He
had not originally proposed to himself to publish any of his
observations, which were made entirely for the pleasure they brought in
their train, as they led him year after year over hill and dale.
Gradually he found that various facts met with by him in the course of
his rambles had not been noticed by others before him. Thus, as far back
as the summer of 1837, he had observed the mass of granite of 'Ploverfield,'
of which the first published account was given three years later by
Necker de Saussure. These discoveries were duly communicated to his
friend Nichol, who doubtless made good use of them as an encouragement
to continued investigation.
The meeting of the
British Association for the Advancement of Science was held in Glasgow
in September 1840. Among the preparations for that meeting a committee
was started for the purpose of gathering together a collection of
specimens, maps, and sections illustrative of the geology of the west of
Scotland. In order to expedite the task, various sub-committees were
formed, to each of which a special branch of the work was assigned. One
of these was organised to prepare a model of the island of Arran,
together with specimens of its geological formations. The convener of
this sub-committee was Professor Nichol, who, as one of the local
secretaries of the Association, undertook a large amount of labour and
responsibility, and contributed much to the success of the Glasgow
meeting. Ramsay was the secretary of the sub-committee, and,
single-handed, did almost the whole of its work. In reporting to the
general Museum Committee what they had done, Professor Nichol, who drew
up the statement, remarked that 'Arran had previously been surveyed by
several geologists; but although these eminent men had given valuable
accounts of their observations, many blanks remained to be. filled up,
and several important questions, having reference to the particular
modes and epochs of the elevatory movements, and other phenomena of
which this remarkable island is a memorial, do not appear to have been
stirred at all. The Committee cannot presume that all deficiencies are
now supplied, but they are certain that many points formerly obscure
have been illustrated by their labours, and that a foundation at least
is laid for a very complete and singular geological monograph. Their
specimens, amounting probably to 700 or 800, have been selected with
much care, [These specimens became the property of the British
Association, and were handed over to the Andersonian University of
Glasgow. But many years afterwards (1876) the Andersonian authorities,
having no longer room for them, returned them, and they are now in the
British Museum.] many sections have been drawn, a large map is in
progress, and they have every hope that the model will, when finished,
answer the purpose of rendering a great class of phenomena more palpable
than could be done by any other mode of representation. It is necessary
to mention that a new survey of the island in every locality has been
executed, and that nearly all these labours have been gratuitously
performed by their secretary, Mr. Andrew Ramsay, to whose talent and
untiring energy their success is wholly owing.'
By the time the
Association met, these active preparations had been completed. The
specimens from Arran, after much anxious consultation over them on the
part of Professor Nichol and his young associate, were duly displayed,
the large map and sections were hung up, and the model, on the scale of
two inches to a mile, was exhibited, with all the geological formations
of the island clearly depicted on it in distinct colours.
A notable gathering of
geologists assembled in Glasgow in September 1840. They included Lyell,2
Greenough, [1] Buckland,
[2] PhiHips, [3] Murchison, [4] De la Beche, [5] Smith of Jordanliill,
[6] Agassiz, [7] Strickland, [8] Edward Forbes, [9] and Griffith. [10]
It was before this audience that Ramsay read his first scientific paper,
' Notes taken during the Surveys for the Construction of the Geological
Model, Maps, and Sections of the Island of Arran.'11 In this
communication he gave a brief sketch of his work. How he was guided in
the conception of it, and in the further elaboration of his results,
will appear from the following sentences in a letter to him from Nichol
: 'In writing out your memoir never omit to draw attention as you go
along to points yet requiring elucidation, and which present hopes of
something very interesting. You must make this memoir short, chiefly in
the way of scientific notes.
1 George Bellas Greenough,
bom 1778, died 1855 ; one °f the founders and the first President of the
Geological Society of London.
2 William Buckland, born
1784, died 1856; author of Reliquia Diluviana, also of one of the most
celebrated Bridgewater Treatises, and of numerous geological memoirs ;
Dean of Westminster, and Reader in Geology in the University of Oxford.
3 John Phillips, born
1800, died 1874 ; one of the founders and for many years General
Secretary of the British Association; was for some years attached to the
Geological Survey under De la Beche ; an able writer and clear lecturer
on geology ; succeeded Dr. Buckland in the geological readership at
Oxford.
4 Roderick Impey
Murchison, born 1792, died 1871 ; author of The Silurian System, etc.,
and Director-General of the Geological Survey from 1855 to 1871.
5 Henry Thomas De la
Beche, born 1796, died 1855; founder and first Director-General of the
Geological Survey of Great Britain ; author of some valuable papers and
treatises.
6 James Smith, bora 1782,
died 1867 ; author of a remarkable work on The Voyage and Shipwreck of
St. Paul, and some of the earliest papers on the shelly deposits of the
Glacial Drift.
7 Louis Agassiz, born
1807, died 1873 ; famous as a writer on fossil fishes, and for his
contributions to glacial geology.
8 Hugh Edwin Strickland,
born 1811, died 1853; a geologist of great ability and promise ; killed
by a passenger train when examining a cutting on the Manchester,
Sheffield, and Lincolnshire Railway.
9 Edward Forbes, born
1815, died 1854; one of the foremost British naturalists of his time;
attached to the Geological Survey, and shortly before his early death
appointed Professor of Natural History in the University of Edinburgh.
10 Richard Griffith, born
1784, died 1878 ; the most illustrious geologist Ireland has produced.
The popular descriptive
part must be kept for your book. I have been thinking of a speculation
with Griffin :n regard of your model and book, which I think might be
very advantageous to you; of which, when we meet.' We shall see
immediately what came of the ' speculation' here referred to.
Ramsay was heartily
welcomed at Glasgow into the brotherhood of geologists. He formed there
some of the most lasting and influential friendships of his life. It was
there that he first came in contact with De la Beche, under whom, though
at that time undreamt of by either of them, he was within a few months
to enter upon the career of a professional geologist. It was there that
he first met Murchison, who was from the very first deeply impressed
with his capacity and geological ardour. It was there, too, that he made
acquaintance with Edward Forbes, and began that intimacy which linked
the two men together by the closest ties of friendship in the
prosecution of scientific work.
It was arranged that on
the Saturday of the Association week an excursion should be made to
Arran, and the young geologist who had explored the island so well was
invited by Lyell, who was President of Section C (Geology), to read his
communication the day before, in order that those who intended to take
part I in the excursion might be put in possession of the necessary
information. The excursionists divided themselves into two parties, one
proceeding direct by steamer, the other by railway to Ardrossan, and
thence by steamer to Arran. Ramsay was to conduct the party united at
Brodick, and give them a general exposition of Arran geology. But he had
worked hard in making all the preliminary preparations, and for some
days before had been up early and late. Hence, when the morning came, he
unluckily overslept himself, and was too late for both steamboat and
train. This untoward accident he never ceased to regret.
The excitement of the
Glasgow meeting, the first entry into the company of renowned geologists
with whose names he had so long been familiar, the first public
exhibition of his own work as a geologist, the first plunge into the sea
of active scientific discussion, and the cordial welcome extended to him
by men whose achievements he had followed from afar, left Ramsay with
many regrets when he came back again to the consideration of his own
prospects in life. How gladly would he have taken to science as a
calling if only any opening had offered itself. Nine years afterwards,
when he had found his place 'n the active brotherhood of men of science,
chancing to meet Professor Johnston of Durham, whose acquaintance he had
made at the British Association in Glasgow he recalled to him an
incident of that meeting, which he thus describes : ' On the Sunday of
the Association week I chanced to overtake Johnston in Ingram Street,
and, talkmg about geological matters, I told him how I was busy with
mercantile affairs, and longed for an opportunity to engage in
geological pursuits, after the happy taste I had had of it in working
before the coming of the Association. "Stick to your work," quoth he,
"and don't forget your geology, and something may arise!" He spoke
truly.
The British Association
meeting, while it had stimulated his bent towards geological work, threw
no light upon the dark outlook before the young man. From a letter of
his mother's, it appears that there was at one time some prospect of his
going out to Tasmania, and with her maternal desire to keep all the
family around her if that might be, she gladly welcomed any proposal
that would prevent such a breaking up of her home-circle. As one
disappointment succeeded another in his efforts to obtain a solid
footing in business, he employed himself in completing his account of
Arran. The ' speculation' referred to by Nichol took formal shape in an
agreement between the Glasgow publishing firm of Richard Griffin and
Co., and Andrew Ramsay, ' Merchant in Glasgow,' dated 2nd November 1840,
by which, in consideration of the payment of a sum of twenty-one pounds,
the latter undertook to prepare within three months a work on the
geology of the island of Arran, together with the necessary views,
sections, and maps.
In pursuance of this
agreement, the work was duly written, and appeared the following spring
as a thin octavo volume of seventy-eight pages, with a little map, a
page of sections, and upwards of two dozen woodcuts, chiefly from
drawings by the author. It was entitled The Geology of the Island of
Arran from Original Survey, by Andrew Crombie Ramsay, and was
appropriately dedicated to Nichol. This essay has long since taken its
place among the classics of Scottish geology. As a broad outline of the
structure of an exceedingly interesting geological region it was a most
meritorious production. It gave sufficient detail to show how carefully
its author had gone over the ground, how accurate and acute he was as an
observer, and how clearly he saw the relation between scattered or
isolated facts and the broad principles that connected them. While his
chapters did not by any means exhaust Arran, they correctly described
its general geological structure. In particular, the existence of a 'New
Red Sandstone' series, first proposed by Sedgwick and Murchison, was
clearly recognised by him. Other observers have since disputed this
assertion, but its truth has recently been confirmed by the Geological
Survey. The history of the igneous phenomena remains very much as Ramsay
left it, and is not likely to be much advanced until the still
comparatively unknown southern part of the island is mapped in minute
detail.
Apart from the excellence
of his essay as a geological treatise, it had no little merit as a piece
of descriptive prose. A few passages from it may be quoted here, to show
that, besides cultivating habits of geological observation, the author
entered thoroughly into the spirit of the scenery amid which he was
working, and could depict in graphic words the aspects of the
landscapes. Let us accompany him to the top of Goatfell, the highest
summit in Arran, and listen to his account of it: 'The eye of the
geologist suddenly rests on a scene which, if he be a true lover of
nature, cannot fail to inspire him with astonishment and delight. The
jagged and spiry peaks of the surrounding mountains ; the dark hollows
and deep shady corries, into which the rays of the sun scarce ever
penetrate ; the open swelling hills beyond, the winding shores of Loch
Fyne, and the broad Firth of Clyde, studded with its peaceful and
fertile islands ; the rugged mountains of Argyllshire, and the gentle
curves of the hills of the Western Isles, their outlines softened in the
distance, form a scene of surpassing grandeur and loveliness. In all its
varying aspects, it is a scene, the; memory of which can be dwelt on
with pleasure: whether it be seen in the early morning, when the white
mists, drawn upward from the glens, float along the hills, and half
conceal their giant peaks; or in the gloom of an autumn evening, when
the descending clouds, urged onwards by the blast, flit swiftly across
the mountain sides, while ever and anon their gloomy shoulders loom
largely through the rolling masses, and seem to the beholder to double
their vast proportions; or in the mellow light of a summer sunset, when
the shadows of the hills fall far athwart the landscape, and the distant
Atlantic gleams brightly in the slanting rays of the setting sun ;
while, as he sinks below the horizon, it is difficult to distinguish the
lofty summits of Jura and the Isles from the gorgeous masses of clouds
among which he disappears.'
In the midst of these
impressive scenes, while enjoying to the full their picturesque beauty,
Ramsay's eye was ever keenly sensitive to the geological lessons so
vividly taught by them. Lingering among the granite precipices, and
'surrounded by the grey peaks of the solemn hills,' the observer
reflects that these colossal features in the scenery, notwithstanding '
all their appearance of majesty and power, are day by day slowly
crumbling into dust. Even now the landscape on which he mutely gazes is
imperceptibly yielding to the never-dying principle of change; and the
time will come when, with all its varied features, it shall have passed
away, and left no trace behind.'
The young geologist had
an eye, too, for the little touches of human pathos which so often
lighten up the sombreness of a Highland scene. As he comes down North
Glen Sannox, once a populous valley, but in his day, as it is still,
almost uninhabited, he contrasts its very different conditions. He marks
how 'green spots, clothed with a close-cropped herbage, and still
bearing witness to the marks of the plough, surround each ruined clachan.
The hazel and the fragrant birch, the ash and the charmed rowan, fringe
the banks of the stream, or mark the remains of the little
garden-enclosures; and mingled with these may be seen the white blossoms
of the gnarled elder, famed of old for its irresistible power in scaring
the midnight witches from the neighbourhood of lonely dwellings, and
counteracting the malicious pranks of the fairies, who, it is well
known, still inhabit these desert wastes!'
The author avoids letting
his own personality be seen in the course of his narrative, but in the
following passage we seem to meet him coming back somewhat jaded from a
long tramp to his welcome resting-place for the night in the snug homely
inn of Loch Ranza. 'Tired and hungry though the traveller be, and with
the very smoke of the little inn curling before his eyes, let him pause
for a moment at the entrance of the loch, and seating himself on a
granitic boulder, quietly contemplate the placid scene before him. Trees
there are few to boast of, and what is pleasanter, there are still fewer
strangers, for to the traveller in such a scene, all strangers seem out
of place but himself The sinking sun shines bright on the gleaming peaks
of Caistael Abhael and Ceum na Cailleach, where the shadows of the
rugged scars and deep hollows of the winter torrents, mingled with the
lights brightly reflected from the projecting rocks, form a hazy
radiance which more obscures than illuminates the shady recesses of the
rugged corries. The tide is at its full, and the lazy sails of many a
lagging fishing-boat, the image of the ruined tower and of the green
hills around, lie calmly reflected in the unruffled waters :—
The lake returned in
chastened gleam The purple cloud, the golden beam ; Reflected in the
crystal pool, Headland and bank lay fair and cool; The weather-tinted
rock and tower, Each drooping tree, each fairy flower, So true, so soft,
the mirror gave, As if there lay beneath the wave, Secure from trouble,
toil, and care, A world than earthly world more fair.
'But it is in a cold
February evening that the pleasant solitude of the place will be most
esteemed. There, seated at a blazing peat-fire, as the geologist extends
his notes or arranges his specimens after fris day's work, he will hear
the piercing wind whistling down Glen Chalmadael and the narrow pass of
Glen Eisnabearradh, then dying away as it reaches a wider expanse of the
loch, to be again renewed by a louder and a shriller blast. And as he
loiters to the door to speculate on the probabilities of the morrow's
weather, he may chance to see the burning heath, like the beacons of
old, blazing on the hills around, and faintly gleaming on the
far-distant headlands of Argyllshire.' [Geology of the Island of Arran,
pp. 7, 27, 36, 40.]
It was while Ramsay was
engaged in the preparation of these chapters for the printer that the
long-looked-for prospect of congenial employment at last opened out to
him, in a form as unexpected as it was welcome. Among those who, from
what they had seen of him and his work at the British Association, had
formed a high opinion of his geological capacity was Murchison. This
illustrious geologist, then in the full tide of his work among the older
formations of the north and east of Europe, had entertained the idea of
possibly extending his labours to North America, though he ultimately
went to Russia instead. The young geologist who had done such excellent
work in Arran would, he thought, make an admirable companion and
assistant in his foreign expeditions ; and in the autumn he wrote to
propose such an employment to his young friend. No letter appears to
have survived from Ramsay himself in reference to this sudden lifting of
the clouds that had darkened his path. But we get a glimpse into the
family circle in a letter written at the time by his mother to his
brother William. 'Dr. Nichol,' she says, 'seems to think Andrew will
have to go to London about the beginning of February. Andrew is in high
spirits himself with the prospect. I hope it may turn out as much for
his good as he expects. For my own part, I think there should be some
written agreement about money matters; it is far more agreeable to claim
as a right than to get as a favour, although the very travelling at
Murchison's expense is a matter of consequence, and you may say although
he were to get nothing he will see the world. At the same time, as he
cannot afford to be without a salary, I hope it will be given.'
After some delay all the
preparations were made, and Ramsay left home for his new career on
Monday, 15th March 1841. A large band of his old friends and associates
assembled on the Broomielaw to see him start, for he had arranged to
take steamboat to Liverpool, and pay a visit there on his way to London.
His journey and subsequent doings are best told in his own words :—
Liverpool, Wednesday
(17th March 1841).
My dearest Mother — You
have by this time got over the first violence of your sorrow at parting
with me, and however painful the separation is to all of us, you will
find that time will gradually accustom you to my temporary absence; and
you will look on a letter from me in the same light as you do one of
Johnie's, with this difference, that you have the absolute certainty of
seeing the second son (the go-between—the link between Willie and Johnie—who
has part of the features and part of the character of both) in less than
a year, and probably in six or eight months. Won't I rush home to
Glasgow? brimful of London and Russia—of sights, wonders, and travels, a
perfect Munchausen, telling most incredible stories about bearded
Muscovites, horrible escapes from bears and wolves, burning suns and
mountains of snow, expatriated Poles and Siberian mines. How I was
introduced to the Emperor, how he smiled and bowed, and by a smile and a
bow secured a deathless immortality, and honourable mention in the 2
vols, royal 8vo which are to hand down to future times the results of
Mr. Hosie's1 observations 011 men and manners in Russia; for a bow from
a prince to a geologist excuses the depopulation of Poland, and a smile
renders him amiable and attractive in the bosom of his family and in all
his private capacities.
'Andrew Hosie' was a
nickname by which he was familiarly known among his friends and
associates. In another manuscript journal named ' The Renfield Rocket,'
of later date than the ' Miscellaneous Journal' already referred to, the
scientific doings of this personage are made the subject of jocular
description. A Scots song also appears there to celebrate his virtues,
of which the refrain runs—
My Hosie O! my Hosie O!
He's neither thin nor brosy O!
There's no a lad in Scotland broad
Can ever match wi' Hosie O!
London, 25th March 1841.
My dear Willie—You will
have heard all about me ere this from our folks at home, but perhaps I
may as well give you a synopsis of the whole of my proceedings. I left
Glasgow on Monday, and arrived in Liverpool on Tuesday at three. ... I
left Liverpool at half-past ten on Thursday morning, and arrived in
London at half-past nine at night, and being at a loss what to do with
myself, went to the nearest hotel, viz. the Victoria, Euston Square,
from whence I immediately wrote to Murchison announcing my arrival. I
did not hear from him till next day (Friday) at five o'clock, and in the
meantime went and saw St. Paul's and the outsides of some of the
streets, for you see I had always to be running home to look for a
letter. He asked me to breakfast with him on Saturday morning. This I
did. His house is a splendid one. They are quite people of fashion, but,
notwithstanding, Mrs. M. is a kindly body, and made me quite at ease at
once. I should previously have informed you that Mr. M. told me in his
note that he had given up the idea of taking me to Russia with him, but
said he was almost certain he had procured me a much better place, viz.
that of Assistant Geologist to De la Beche, who is at present making the
Ordnance Geological Survey for Government. To cut the matter short, I
may here tell you that on that day he again wrote to De la B. that the
matter might be finally settled, and on Tuesday last had a most
satisfactory letter from De la B., enclosing one for me, officially
appointing me to the situation of Assistant Geologist, with pay of 9s. a
day. 'Here's a start.' On Monday first I leave this for Bristol by Great
Western Railway, and on Tuesday I shall be at Tenby, Pembrokeshire,
South Wales, there to join De la B. Tenby lies, I think, at the mouth of
Milford Haven, a place celebrated by Shakespeare in Cymbeline. [The
writer's literary memory was here better than his geography. Tenby lies
about 18 miles due east from the entrance to Milford Haven].
HENRY T. DE LA BECHE
Before leaving, Murchison
asked me to dine with him next day at seven. Mrs. M. also asked me to
breakfast, and to go to church with her afterwards. The remainder of
Saturday I spent getting into my lodgings, going through the Geological
Museum at Somerset House, calling on Lyell and Graham, [Thomas Graham,
born 1805, died 1869, one of the most distinguished chemists of our
time, was for some years Lecturer on Chemistry in Glasgow, and in 1837
became professor of the science at University College, London, an
appointment which he held until 1855, when he was made Master of the
Mint, lie had known Ramsay and his father in Glasgow, and was one of the
first men of science to welcome him to London.] and seeing the
Polytechnic. Lyell and Graham both received me very kindly, indeed Lyell
as much so as Graham. He was very glad to hear of my success, and told
me to be sure and let him know when my Geology of Arran came out, as he
wished to notice some of my remarks in a new edition of his Elements of
Geology. Here's another start. I went to Covent Garden on Saturday
night, and was delighted with The Critic. On Sunday I went with Mrs. M.
in her carriage to St. Luke's, Chelsea, and having keeked through the
rails and seen the Duke of Wellington, I went to Westminster at three.
At seven I went to Murchison's to dinner, and there met Mr.
Featherstonhaugh, the American plenipotentiary, his lady, and two
gentlemen — a Captain Pringle and Mr. Munro. Featherstonhaugh is a
lively man, but takes no wine for his stomach's sake.
Monday I spent in the
National Gallery and the British Museum, and in the evening called on
Dr. Stanger, with whom I was acquainted at the meeting. I found him out
by the merest chance. He took me with him to a Philosophical soiree at
Mr. Bowerbank's, and we had a good deal of interesting discussion On
Tuesday, after writing to Nichol and home, I went to Belgrave Square,
and there got my official appointment. De la B.'s letter is a very kind
one. In his note to Murchison he speaks of my pay rising. I am
thoroughly convinced that this is a much better thing than going to
Russia. If I behave, and am found worthy, I am sure to rise in the
service.
By and by the Survey will
go to Scotland. Probably I may get the neighbourhood of Glasgow to do,
including my own island. After leaving Murchison I went through
Westminster, and saw Dr. Johnson's and Garrick's gravestones side by
side, and all the others. 'O rare Ben Jonson!' 'The cloud-capt towers!'
I afterwards met Murchison at Somerset House.
Yesterday I spent in the
Zoological Gardens, Regent's Park, and also visited the Colosseum. At
six I dined with the Geological Club1 at the Crown and Anchor, Strand.
It has a most shabby outside, but is one of those old-fashioned splendid
inns inside, which, I suppose, are not to be found out of London. It was
here that Fox and the great Whigs of that great day used to meet and
enjoy themselves. Lyell and Featherstonhaugh were there, and Captain
Pringle; Murchison in the chair. There were about twenty-five gentlemen
present. I was introduced to Dr. Buck-land and some others. Murchison
introduced me also to Mr. Taylor, the croupier and treasurer of the
Society, and asked him to take me beside him. I heard him say to
Buckland: 'You remember young Ramsay, who made the model of Arran? I
shall introduce him to you.' 'Oh yes,' quoth the Doctor. So I was
introduced, and the Doctor gave me two of his digits to shake. There
were a lot of big-wigs there whose names I do not know—members of
Parliament and others. Mr. Taylor, whom I sat next, knows, or knew, Dr.
Thomson of Glasgow, Dr. Ure, Charles Mackintosh, C. Tennant, and others,
who were old friends of my father's, and we had a great deal of
conversation together. After dinner we went to Somerset House to hear
Murchison on Russia. The^Sarquis of Northampton was there. The
discussion broke up about eleven, when we all went upstairs to tea.
I must now close, as I
have to go to Belgrave Square and elsewhere, to get my equipment before
leaving for Wales.
From De la Beche's
letter, containing the formal offer of the appointment, a few sentences
may be quoted. It is dated from Cardiff, 22nd March 1841 :
'My friend, Mr.
Murchison, having recommended you to me as well qualified to assist on
the Ordnance Geological Survey, as I have little doubt, judging from
your labours in the Isle of Arran, is the case ; and Mr. Murchison
having also stated that you were desirous of joining the service as
Assistant Geologist, I have now to offer you the situation of Assistant
Geologist on this Survey, with a rate of pay, for the present, of 9s.
per day for the six working days of the week (it being the somewhat
singular rule that the Sundays are unprovided with pay), payable
quarterly, which is at the rate of ^140 :8s. per annum. Independently of
this salary, your travelling expenses from station to station would be
paid, and all necessary instruments, drawing materials, etc. etc., are
found by Government.
'Should you feel disposed
to join the Survey on these terms, I would thank you to write to me to
that effect, directing your letter to me, Tenby, South Wales, to which
place I intend to remove my headquarters to-morrow. In that event, it
would be desirable that you should report yourself at Tenby on the 1st
of April, the commencement of one of our official quarters. A steamer
leaves Bristol for Tenby on Tuesday, the 29th instant, so that you would
only remain a day or two at Tenby without your pay.'
Though Murchison's strong
recommendation may have had some influence in determining the offer of
this appointment to the young geologist, it must be remembered that De
la Beche had attended the Glasgow meeting of the British Association,
where, as one of the vice-presidents of Section C, he had met Ramsay,
seen his map and model, and been able to form an independent judgment as
to his capacity for the work of the Geological Survey.
The pecuniary prospects
set forth in the Director-General's letter could not be regarded as
specially inviting. They were much canvassed in Glasgow, where the news
that Ramsay was not to go to Russia after all, but had been offered, and
had accepted, a post in the Geological Survey of this country, fell like
a thunderbolt in the family a few days after he had left home. Mrs.
Ramsay's first feeling was one of bitter disappointment, and it needed
all Professor Nichols powers of persuasion to convince her that the
situation now offered to her son might really open the way to his future
distinction.
At length, having
completed his outfit in London, he started on the last day of March, and
arrived at Tenby at one o'clock in the morning of the 2nd of April by
the Phoenix, from Bristol, there to begin a career in the Geological
Survey which was to last until he had risen to be the head of the
service, and one of the foremost geologists of his day. |
