Reconciling the Fossil Record

These images taken from Heck's Iconographic Encyclopedia (1851) reveal precisely how
the fossil record by mid-century led naturalists and the general public to imagine prehistoric
life. A fantastic, almost surreal, image of primordial seas in the center of this illustration--full
of aquatic monsters--suggests a powerful link between scientific and "poetic" imaginations.
The fossil record likewise provided powerful evidence for use by comparative anatomists.
Scientists by the middle of the century were classifying living and extinct species based on
structural similarities. The specimens collected in anatomical museums throughout Europe
and North America revealed similar creatures across the globe. Comparable forms were
troubling and revealing because they suggested common ancestry if not a common origin.
Tennyson's lines are perhaps the most well known poetic expression of the sorts of anxiety that were being generated by fossil remains. Here are his famous stanzas from In Memoriam, published nine years before Darwin's Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection:

        So careful of the type?" but no.
           From scarped cliff and quarried stone
           She cries, "A thousand types are gone:
         I care for nothing, all shall go. 

        "Thou makest thine appeal to me:
            I bring to life, I bring to death:
           The spirit does but mean the breath:
         I know no more." And he, shall he, 

        Man, her last work, who seem'd so fair,
           Such splendid purpose in his eyes,
           Who roll'd the psalm to wintry skies,
        Who built him fanes of fruitless prayer, 

        Who trusted God was love indeed
           And love Creation's final law--
           Tho' Nature, red in tooth and claw
        With ravine, shriek'd against his creed-- 

        Who loved, who suffer'd countless ills,
           Who battled for the True, the Just,
           Be blown about the desert dust,
        Or seal'd within the iron hills? 

        No more? A monster then, a dream,
           A discord. Dragons of the prime,
           That tare each other in their slime,
        Were mellow music match'd with him. 

        O life as futile, then, as frail!
           O for thy voice to soothe and bless!
           What hope of answer, or redress?
        Behind the veil, behind the veil. 

               . . .                       They say,
        The solid earth whereon we tread

        In tracts of fluent heat began,
           And grew to seeiming-random forms,
           The seeming prey of cyclic storms,
       Till at the last arose the man;

       Who throve and branched from clime to climb,
           The herald of a higher race . . .

                 . . . [Whose]  life is not as idle ore,

       But iron dug from central gloom,
           And heated hot with burning fears,
           And dipt in baths of hissing tears,
       And battered with the shocks of doom

       To shape and use. Arise and fly
           The reeling Faun, the sensual feast;
          Move upward, working out the beast,
       And let the ape and tiger die.
                                                          (1851, LVI, CXVIII)

But Tennyson was not the first poet worried about fossil remains. Here are lines by Percy Shelley, writing almost four decades earlier, in 1816:

                           . . . even these primaeval mountains
       Teach the adverting mind. The glaciers creep
       Like snakes that watch their prey, from their far fountains,
       Slow rolling on; there, many a precipice,
       Frost and the Sun in scorn of mortal power
       Have piled: dome, pyramid, and pinnacle,
       A city of death . . . 
                . . . The dwelling-place
       Of insects, beasts, and birds, becomes its spoil
       Their food and their retreat for ever gone,
       So much of life and joy is lost. The race
       Of man flies far in dread; his work and dwelling
       Vanish, like smoke before the tempest's stream,
       And their place is not known. 
                                                          ("Mont Blanc," ll. 99-105, 114-120)

In Prometheus Unbound (1819), Shelley likewise reveals his awareness of previous forms of life (including human life) that have occupied the planet and catastrophic forces that have led to their destruction (cf. Cuvier):

    dead Destruction, ruin within ruin!
The wrecks beside of many a city vast,
Whose population which the earth grew over
Was mortal but not human; see, they lie,
Their monstrous works and uncouth skeletons,
Their statues, homes, and fanes; prodigious shapes
Huddled in grey annihilation, split,
Jammed in the hard black deep; and over these
The anatomies of unknown winged things,
And fishes which were isles of living scale,
And serpents, bony chains, twisted around
The iron crags, or within heaps of dust
To which the tortuous strength of their last pangs
Had crushed the iron crags;--and over these
The jagged alligator and the might
Of earth-convulsing behemoth, which once
Were monarch beats, and on the slimy shores
And weed-overgrown continents of Earth
Increased and multiplied like summer worms 
On an abandoned corpse, till the blue globe
Wrapt Deluge round it like a cloak, and they
Yelled, gaspt and were abolished  (iv. 295-316)
Of course, these passages from both Tennyson and Shelley also reveal the extent to which fossil evidence for evolution and extinction was being confirmed by parallel discoveries in geology and the earth sciences. (A.N.)

 
 

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