July 31.] THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 263 
WEEKLY CALENDAR. 
M W 
JULY 31—AUGUST 6, 1851. 
Weather near London in 1850. 
Sun 
Sun 
Moon 
Moon’s 
Clock 
Day of 
Year. 
D D 
Barometer. Thermo. 
Wind. 
Rain in In. 
Rises. 
Sets. 
R.&S. 
Age. 
bef. Sun. 
31 Th 
Sunflower blooms. t 
30.144 — 30.106; 78—62 
W. 
01 
23 a. 4 
49 a. 7 
9 
39 
3 
6 
6 
212 
1 F 
Lammas Day. 
30.171 —30.119 70—57 
E. 
— 
24 
48 
10 
a 4 
4 
6 
3 
213 
2 S 
Swallow-tailed Butterfly seen. 
30.096 —30.028' 69—55 
S.W. 
— 
26 
4(3 
10 
28 
S 
6 
0 
214 
3 Sun 
7 Sunday after Trinity. 
30.046 —29.980! 79—53 
E. 
— 
28 
44 
10 
50 
6 
5 
56 
215 
4 M 
Yellow Succory flowers. 
29-941 — 29.812 77—52 
S.W. 
— 
29 
43 
11 
16 
3 
5 
51 
216 
5 Tu 
Canterbury Bell flowers. 
29750 — 29.659 82—56 
S.W. 
0.02 
31 
41 
11 
45 
8 
5 
46 
217 
6 W 
Pr. Alf. b. 1844. Transfiguration. 
29733 — 29.722 1 74—49 
N.E. 
— > 
32 
39 
morn. 
9 
5 
40 
218 
On that great and awful day in which all who are in their graves shall 
come forth, we have a just hope that there will he a goodly brotherhood 
of the martyrs of science, on whom “ the white robes” will then be be¬ 
stowed. It is not for man to know the secrets of all hearts, but judging, 
according to man’s judgment, we know of no band of martyrs, except 
those “ slain for the word of God,” more worthy of reward than those 
who have died in the effort to increase the knowledge, and the innocent 
happiness of their fellow men. We have thought again and again over 
the list of those who fell sacrificed to that effort, and we have detected 
not one, over whom we should not have mourned, had he been our 
brother, without even a shade of shame, or of anxiety. It would have 
been wondrous if it were otherwise, for well do we know, despite some 
melancholy exceptions, that “ they who cry after knowledge, and lift up 
their voice for understanding, who seek her as silver, and search for her 
as for hid treasures, shall understand the fear of the Lord, and find the 
knowledge of God.” Such has been the characteristic of all those we 
have known, and of whom it could be said— 
’Twas thine own genius gave the fatal blow, 
And helped to plant the wound that laid thee low. 
Nor was David Douglas, whose memoir we are about to place before 
our readers, an exception. Mr. Fish, in a letter just received by us, 
says :—“ I was less or more acquainted with, and greatly esteemed all 
the branches of the Douglas family—but David I only saw once. I think 
it was during his two years stay in England, before he started for his last 
and fatal expedition. At that time he visited his friends in Old Scone, 
Perthshire, between whose dwelling and my father’s house, there was 
only the breadth of the highw'ay, passing from Perth to Blair Gowrie. 
The two families were always friendly, though, scattered as we are, com¬ 
munications have been greatly stopped of late. At that time I was an 
apprentice under Mr. Beattie, gardener to Earl Mansfield, at Scone 
Palace, and my comparative ignorance prevented me appreciating with 
zest Mr. Douglas’s conversation, as at a later period I should have done. 
At that time he was suffering considerably in his eyes, and very likely was 
more reserved in consequence. David had been an apprentice at Scone 
some years before me, and I followed him at the same interval of time to 
Valley Field, the seat of Sir Robert Preston. 
David Douglas was born at Old Scone, then Scone, in Perthshire, 
sometime in 1798. His father, John Douglas, was a working stone 
mason, who was somewhat reserved and dignified in his manners, but 
possessed of great general, and a fair portion of scientific information, 
united to great kindness of heart, and an unblemished moral reputation. 
From his superior acquirements, he performed the most of the statuary 
for the village church-yards, and was sent for, far and near, by the gentry, 
for setting kitchen ranges, and curing smoky chimneys. It was always 
considered that Mr. Douglas was not worldly-wise enough to turn these 
employments to his pecuniary advantage, by charging much above his 
usual wages ; yet, like many other Scotch parents, from his somewhat 
limited income, he contrived, by self-sacrifice, to give a good education to 
his family of three sons and three daughters. Of the latter, one was 
dead before I knew them, and of the sons, John, the eldest, after learn¬ 
ing with his father, was clerk sometime to Mr. Atkinson, the eminent 
architect, and has now been employed for a number of years by the Duke 
of Buceleugh, at Drumlanrig Castle. George, the youngest of the family, 
and a school-fellow of mine, at the parish school of New Scone, was ap¬ 
prenticed to a merchant in Perth, and is now, I believe, engaged in mer¬ 
cantile pursuits at Liverpool. 
David received part of his education in Scone, and part at the parish 
school in Kinnoul, a parish some two miles off, the pedagogue in which, 
about that time, and for years after, received a high character as an 
inflexible disciplinarian. Some act of self-willed determination, ap¬ 
proaching to obstinacy, I have understood w'as the reason why David was 
moved from Scone to Kinnoul. Even there his contempt of the school¬ 
master’s thong, and his carelessness about those difficulties and hardships 
j which would have weighed hard with other boys, were budding into that 
strong-minded, self-dependant heroism, which enabled him afterwards to 
dare and do so much for the advantage of natural history. At an early 
\ period of his youthhood he was received into Scone Gardens, under the 
late Mr. Beattie, whose friendship he secured by his attention and good 
! conduct. At this period he spent his spare time in botanical rambles in 
j the neighbourhood, and in reading such books as he could get or borrow 
among his friends and acquaintances ; for there were no village libraries 
and no cheap publications then. Among others, he was very intimate 
with a second foreman in the forest department, who had once seen better 
| days—his last gradation being from the excise into the woods. The chief 
bond between them was the possession, by Mr. Scott, of some good 
i books, chiefly on history. One evening, David, in returning some books, 
begged to obtain “ the oldest farthest back he had got,” and the old 
man quietly slipped a well-thumbed Bible into his hand. The old gauger 
used to tell the tale, “ when the wee drap was in,” with great gusto. It 
shows that then the young mind of David w as especially thirsting after 
knowledge. It is supposed that about this time the first desire to travel 
, might be aroused in his mind, as it is likely he would often see the 
! celebrated botanists, Robert and James Brown, then of the 1’erth nur¬ 
sery, who were on intimate terms with Mr. Beattie, and who were not 
| above speaking of their excursions to some of the most intelligent of the 
i men. About the year 1818, David removed to Valley Field, the seat of 
No. CXLYJLIL, Vol.’ VR ‘ 
Sir Robert Preston, Bart., under the late Mr. Stewart, where he remained 
the best part of two years, receiving books to read, and many marks of 
friendship from Mr. Stewart, as a reward for his attention. I have heard 
Mr. Stewart speak of him in the highest terms, and never in the least 
depreciatingly; for it was not “ satire in disguise,” when he once said 
that “ Douglas was so enthusiastic that he would see more in anything he 
took to than what the generality of people could perceive.” From Valley 
Field, David removed to the Botanic Garden at Glasgow, where he 
attracted the attention of Sir William Hooker, and accompanied him in 
his excursion through the Western Highlands, in search ot materials for 
his Flora Scotica. While in the gardens, I have been told he once rushed 
into the lecture room just in his shirt and trousers, as he w'as working, 
with what he considered a new and rare plant for Sir William to look at. 
It was while returning on a visit home, after this excursion to the High¬ 
lands, that he somewhat discomposed his parents sense of propriety. 
He arrived at home on a Sunday, when all the family were at church, and 
following them thither, the first sight the father got of his son was seeing 
him sitting with his arms spread out on the book-board before him, and 
holes—not small, but great ones—in the elbows of his coat. The sedate 
stonemason felt as if every eye was upon him and his son ; but as for 
David, it is not likely he ever thought of his coat, or the holes in it either. 
By Dr. Hooker, David was recommended to the London Horticultural 
Society, then under the secretaryship of Mr. Sabine, who sent him out 
as a botanical collector to the United States in 1823. In 1824 he went 
to California, calling at Rio Janeiro, and Juan Fernandez, and sent home a 
vast quantity of seeds and specimens, passing through the Rocky Moun¬ 
tains to Hudson’s Bay, and returning in 1827. At Juan Fernandez he 
sowed many garden seeds, because, he said, “ I wished to add to the 
collection of a second Robinson Crusoe, should one appear.” At Hud¬ 
son’s Bay he met with Sir John Franklin, Dr. Richardson, and Sir George 
Back, returning from their second overland arctic expedition, and with 
them he came back to England. His stores were duly appreciated ; and 
the Linmean, Geological, and Zoological Societies dia honour to them¬ 
selves, as well as to him, by electing him to gratuitous Fellowships. 
After continuing two years in England, he sailed in the autumn of 1829 
for Columbia, and, continuing his favourite pursuits, visited the Sandwich 
Islands, and there was gored to death in a pit by a wild bull, July 12, 
1834, in the 3fith year of his age. The circumstances are thus detailed 
by the Englishman last in his company :— 
“On the 12th instant, about ten minutes before six o’clock in the 
morning, Mr. Douglas arrived at my house on the mountain, and wished 
me to point out the road to Hilo, and to accompany him a short distance. 
Mr. Douglas was then alone, but said that his man had given out the day 
before; referring, probably, to John, Mr. Diell’s coloured man. Having 
taken breakfast, I accompanied Mr. Douglas about three quarters of a 
mile; and, after directing him in the path, and warning him of the traps, 
proceeded about half a mile further with him. Mr. Douglas then dis¬ 
missed me, after expressing his anxiety to reach Hilo by evening, 
thinking that he could find out the way himself. Just before I left him, 
I warned him particularly of three bullock-traps, about two miles-and-a- 
half a-head; two of them directly on the road, the other on one side. I 
returned home to skin some bullocks which I had previously killed. 
About eleven o’clock, two natives came in pursuit of me, saying that the 
European was dead, and that they had found him in the pit in which the 
bullock was. They stated that, as they were coming up to this pit, one 
of them, observing some of the clothing on the side, exclaimed “ hole / ” 
and, in a moment afterwards, discovered Mr. Douglas within the pit, 
trampled under the feet of the bullock. I accordingly ran to the house 
for a musket and ball. On reaching the pit, I found Mr. Douglas lying 
upon his right side, and the bullock standing upon his body. I shot the 
animal, descended into the pit, drew the carcass to the other end of it, 
and got out the body. His cane was with him, but the bundle and dog 
were missing. Knowing that he had a bundle, I asked for it. After a 
few moments’ search, a loud barking was heard a short distance a-head, 
on the road leading to Hilo ; and, on reaching the spot, the dog was 
found with the bundle. On further examination, it appeared that Mr. 
Douglas had stopped for a moment and looked into an empty pit, and 
also into that wherein the bullock was taken; that, after passing on up 
the hill some fifteen fathoms, he laid down his bundle, and returned to 
the fatal pit; and that, while looking in, by making a misstep, or by 
some other means, he fell into the power of the infuriated animal, who 
speedily executed the work of death.” 
Before Mr. Douglas’s visit to Scone, I had assisted in conveying the 
remains of his worthy father to his last home. Many a pleasant hour I 
have spent with his widow and her amiable daughters. When, more 
than twelve years ago, I visited my friends, the mother was also gone, 
and there was something heart-choking in seeing the two daughters 
alone. When I visited the same scene a short time since, the house was 
inhabited by strangers, the two sisters generally living now with the 
brothers; yet, its old walls had an indiscribable interest to me. I w'ent 
to the village church-yard in New Scone, and surveyed the monument 
raised to his memory by the botanists of Europe; the companion with 
me bit his lip, and sneered at botanists of Europe. It was once intended 
to have had the monument in the centre of ground containing all the 
plants he introduced, but the money w as not forthcoming. The monu¬ 
ment is, however, very tasteful and handsome. Faults Mr. Douglas may 
have had—for huthahity in its best form is not free from them, but 
