Anyone with prior knowledge regarding the practices of nineteenth-century ornithology will be aware that it was a particularly blood-soaked episode in the history of the life sciences. At times, the litany of birds shot by Henry Dresser (1838–1915), this book's subject, and his peers can make for difficult reading, notwithstanding the countless eggs plucked from nests by zealous collectors. Perhaps the most provocative aspect of Henry McGhie's book is the short epilogue in which he makes an impassioned case for the continued relevance of museum specimen collections, the bulk of which were amassed through the exertions of Victorian naturalists. It may seem somewhat paradoxical that many of these same individuals, Dresser included, lent their support to the nascent bird conservation movement, resulting in the formation of the Society for the Protection of Birds, and it points to their complex legacies in current environmental issues.
In his role as head of collections and curator of zoology at Manchester Museum, McGhie has direct access to Dresser's specimens and associated correspondence. The author successfully marshals his sources into a coherent narrative covering the entirety of Dresser's life, and also seeks to chart the development of ornithology across this period. Historians of nineteenth-century natural history have demonstrated that there was no such thing as a ‘typical’ naturalist, with practitioners as varied in their circumstances as the animals and plants they studied. Henry Dresser was not a man of independent wealth, but rather made his money in the iron trade (after various other ventures in his youth). Throughout his whole life, Dresser's ornithological activities were carried out in whatever spare time he could afford away from his pressing business concerns.
The subtitle of Henry Dresser and Victorian Ornithology: Birds, Books and Business is therefore a very accurate summation of Dresser's life. Dresser was fortunate in that his work took him to places of great ornithological interest, including Finland – where he became the first Englishman to collect eggs of the waxwing – and Texas during the American Civil War (he was a supporter of the Confederacy). As his specimen collections grew, so did his publication record, and his reputation within scientific circles. Among his greatest achievements was the History of the Birds of Europe (1871–1881), a lavishly illustrated, multi-volume work that was intended to compile the latest ornithological knowledge, based upon Dresser's detailed study of specimens. Although Dresser's name was on the title page as the sole author of this book, it was made possible by a large network of collectors from across Europe. McGhie goes into great detail regarding the painstaking process of collating the necessary material, describing the relationships between Dresser and his many collaborators and rivals, with some individuals such as Richard Bowdler Sharpe (1847–1909) falling into both categories. In this respect, Henry Dresser and Victorian Ornithology adds to the growing literature regarding the cultures of natural-history collecting, and the interactions between diverse individuals and networks that produced knowledge of the natural world.
McGhie explicitly compares his biography of Henry Dresser to Jim Endersby's book Imperial Nature (2008), on the career of the botanist Joseph Hooker (p. 4). There are some similarities, in that both books take the life of an individual and situate it within the wider context of nineteenth-century natural history. However, while Endersby's work speaks to the historiography of professionalization, Darwinism and empire, Henry Dresser and Victorian Ornithology places a much greater emphasis on the specifics of Dresser's life. While McGhie's approach serves as a thorough case study, the broader relevance of Dresser's activity could have been developed further in places. For example, Endersby highlighted the pains which Joseph Hooker took to avoid the tainted label of ‘professional’, despite holding a paid position for his botanical work, preferring to be considered a ‘philosophical naturalist’. A similarly nuanced approach towards Dresser's status, spanning the worlds of metropolitan commerce and science, may have served as an instructive counterpoint.
Among the primary attractions of Dresser's books, funded by private subscription, were the beautifully detailed illustrations of birds. To those accustomed to more austere academic monographs, with a limited number of images due to copyright law and its attendant expense, it will be refreshing to find that Henry Dresser and Victorian Ornithology reproduces a great many of these illustrations in full colour. Aside from the aesthetic advantages, these images are useful in helping the reader to differentiate between the multitudes of species named in the book, many of which will be unfamiliar to the casual birdwatcher (particularly those that are now extinct).
An erroneous reference to ‘Austen's Jane Eyre’ (p. 10) is unfortunate, but otherwise McGhie has been meticulous in his approach, tracing the threads of Dresser's life across several continents. This book should be of value to those interested in both the congruities and peculiarities of ornithology within nineteenth-century British natural history.
