A Victorian Nature Book for Children

Family life with a parson-naturalist from the Golden Age of Natural History

Ever wondered what a child's experience of learning about nature might have been like in the days before television and the internet? Old natural history books sometimes give some interesting insights.

I picked up this delightful children's natural history book in a second-hand book shop several years ago. Country Walks of a Naturalist with his Children was written by the Reverend William Houghton and first published by Groombridge and Son of Paternoster Row, London in 1870. He was rector of Preston-on-the-Weald in Shropshire and his real passion was for studying fish, becoming a Fellow of the Linnaean Society as a result of his expertise, but I suspect that this book was by far his most popular and most satisfying work. It evidently sold well - my edition, with an attractive embossed cover, was the 5th., published in 1880.

This is the frontispiece, showing Houghton and his children on a nature ramble. Part of the charm of the book is the unusual way in which it is written, in the first person, as a conversation between parent and child on a nature walk. Each chapter is a separate walk, the first in April and the last in October. The language seems very formal and contrived to a modern reader, but would not have seemed so at that time.

In the first sentence of his preface Houghton declares 'In this little book my desire has been, not so much to impart knowledge to young people, as to induce them to acquire it for themselves' and that is exactly what transpires in the following chapters; the children find things, ask him questions about them and he answers their questions, telling them about the lives of the things they have seen.

And that’s what I like most about his book: it is designed to stimulate a child’s natural curiosity. This process of real-life discovery, followed by questions and discussion between parent and child, seems to me to be a wonderful way to learn about nature; solitary, didactic television or computer-based technologies simply can't compete, however stunning the imagery and graphics might be. Kids love to talk, discuss and ask questions about the things that they find.

When it comes to illustrations, then of course these old Victorian natural history books leave a great deal to be desired, with their monochrome wood engravings, but the textual content is on a different plane to many modern natural history books for children. It includes organisms that many of today’s natural history books for children overlook, like these tiny Hydra clinging to duckweed roots. It discusses wonderful animals that most of today's children would never be aware of, like rotifers, because the modern natural history media are besotted with mammals and birds. Nor does it shrink from portraying nature ‘red in tooth and claw’, exemplified by this picture of a 'butcher bird' , a great grey shrike, impaling voles and a blue tit on thorns.

One of the other delights is that the father, conversing with his children, takes pains to explain the whole life cycle of the animals that they find - from Hydra polyps to small tortoiseshell butterflies. This book isn't just about identification, it's about questioning and understanding.

It doesn't patronise children by talking down to them. It's aimed at 9-10 year-olds but contains scientific words that might be frowned on by today’s literacy pedagogues. The author scatters Latin scientific names and scientific terminology throughout, explaining their meaning as he goes along. 'I am aware', says Houghton in his preface, 'that I have occasionally used words and phrases which may puzzle young brains, but I hope that nearly all will be intelligible to boys and girls of nine or ten years old, with a little explanation from parents or teachers'.

The whole book radiates gentle good humour - as exemplified with these little tail-piece engravings from the ends of chapters.

Interestingly, my copy has a presentation plate glued inside the cover, revealing that it was given by Leeds School Board to John Wilks Taylor in 1886 for regular attendance. He evidently treasured the book because on the opposite fly-leaf, in elegant script, he has written:

‘This book belongs to John Wilks Taylor and if it is borrowed by a friend right welcome shall he be to read, to study, not to lend but to return to me. Read slowly, pause frequently, think seriously, keep cleanly, return duly, with the corners of the leaves not turned down.’

You can read a digital copy of the whole book online at www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/23941