2 A CENTURY’S WORK ON ORNITHOLOGY 
the loss of his youngest and favourite son at the battle of 
Albuera, did much to embitter the last days of Montagu’s 
life. In June, 1815, the Colonel had the misfortune to tread 
upon a rusty nail, lockjaw supervened, and he died on the 
20th of the same month. His old and attached friend, the 
Rev. K. Vaughan, of Aveton Gifford, who was at his bedside 
during his last illness, having asked him where he would 
wish to be buried, his characteristic reply was, “ Where the 
tree falls, there let it lie.” 
i regret being unable to state definitely where Montagu 
was buried, because I feel sure every bird lover would wish 
to visit the shrine of so distinguished an ornithologist. It 
is asserted by some that he was buried in the parish church, 
but that when the church was restored, some five-and-thirty 
years ago, the coffin, with all the rest in the church, was 
despoiled of its leaden shell, and all trace of the vault 
obliterated; certainly I can find no stone, neither is there 
any entry in the register of burials. Others, again, state 
he was buried in the grounds at Knowle;-and it is curious 
that in a genealogical tree I have of the family it states 
that Montagu was buried at the Knowle, whilst the parish 
is given with all the rest of the family, ancestors or 
descendants. Again, very recently I have interviewed an 
old man, Mr. Henry Veale, of Chillington, ninety-six years 
of age, who worked for the Colonel. He could not tell me 
where he was buried, but his vivid memory recalled many 
a pleasing incident which will be found recorded in the 
pages of last Saturday’s Meld. 
Mr. Nicholas Luscombe, a solicitor practising in the town, 
was a friend of Montagu’s, and is often mentioned by the 
latter as bringing him uncommon species. He doubtless 
learnt bird-stuffing from the Colonel; and his son, Mr. 
Nicholas Luscombe, junr., took up the pursuit, and, as com- 
panion to Mr. Henry Nicholls, imparted the art of taxidermy 
as it was then known to him, when the latter was about 
sixteen years of age. I might, by the way, state here that 
taxidermy was a very different affair then from what it is now. 
In those days it was customary only to remove those soft 
parts which were easily accessible, replacing the whole of 
the skeleton, and filling up with a liberal supply of burnt 
alum and cotton. Some birds thus treated by Mr. Nicholls 
are still in a good state of preservation, and, of course, all 
the Montagu Collection in the Natural History Museum, 
South Kensington, are still in evidence. 
The dearth of records between the years 1815 (the year of 
