Global warming ushers in the dinosaur era
Reverend William Buckland (1784–1856), a British vicar and palaeontologist, was the first Professor of Geology at the University of Oxford (1813) (see Plate 8). Charming and eloquent, Buckland was also an accomplished lecturer. His biographer summed him up rather well, remarking in 1894 ‘it is impossible to convey to the mind of any one who had never heard Dr. Buckland speak, the inimitable effect of that union of the most playful fancy with the most profound reflections which so eminently characterized his scientific oratory’. Brilliant and famously eccentric, he once offended stuffier colleagues at a British Association meeting in Bristol by strutting around the lecture theatre imitating chickens to demonstrate how prehistoric birds could have left footprints in the mud. On another occasion he: . . . attracted an audience totalling several thousand for a lecture in the famous Dudley Caverns, specially illuminated for the purpose. Carried away by the general magnificence, he was tempted into rounding off with a shameless appeal to the audience’s patriotism. The great mineral wealth lying around on every hand, he proclaimed, was no mere accident of nature; it showed rather, the express intention of Providence that the inhabitants of Britain should become, by this gift, the richest and most powerful nation on Earth. And with these words, the great crowd, with Buckland at its head, returned towards the light of day thundering out, with one accord, ‘God save the Queen!’. . . Buckland also claimed to have eaten his way straight through the animal kingdom as he studied it and, allegedly, part of Louis XIV’s embalmed heart, pinched from the snuffbox of his friend the Archbishop of Canterbury. He was aided in the eccentric culinary consumption of animals by his son Francis Buckland (1826–80), the celebrated Victorian naturalist and one-time Inspector of Her Majesty’s Salmon Fisheries, who evidently inherited his father’s eccentricity. Francis Buckland lived amongst beer-swilling monkeys, rats, and hares and regarded firing benzene at cockroaches through syringes as a fine sport. Francis arranged with London Zoo to receive off-cuts from the carcasses of unfortunate animals.