
On the occasion of my dear husband’s 200
th birthday, and in response to the prodigious quantity of material and events
marking the year, I am compelled to add my voice, soft though it may be, to the
loudening din.
Now, though I am pleased to learn that my husband’s biographers have echoed down
through the years his own assertion - that ‘the voyage of the Beagle was by far
the most important event’ in his life (with the Lord’s help I have learned not
begrudge the Beagle that primacy), it seems that in the popular consciousness,
the nuanced multiplicity of effects the voyage had on him is not always remembered. Charles was indeed
exposed to a wonderful yet baffling array of geological, zoological and botanical
facts, which he was then compelled by his insatiable curiosity to make sense of,
but there were other legacies as well.
Beyond his occasional nostalgic humming of the sailors’ shanties (scandalous!),
beyond his blanching at the memory of his chronic seasickness, and beyond all
the other small legacies, like the foreign shells he would sometimes bring down
from the attic for the children to play with, there are two particular ways that
the voyage shaped Charles’s life.
Firstly, he would often remember with heart-wrenching disgust his encounter with
the barbarous practice of slavery in the Brazils, and the memory of his ensuing
arguments with Captain FitzRoy on the matter upset him most regrettably. Yes,
Charles was a passionate abolitionist – as were our whole family – but his passion
was lit doubly by first-hand experience – so much so that
he even viewed his scientific efforts as part of this ‘sacred cause’.
Secondly, my poor dear husband’s health was, in precisely what way I do not know,
permanently marred by his voyage around the world. His illness weighed heavily
on my mind and
I made great efforts to record every detail of my invalid’s progress in the hope that some pattern might be revealed and
thus hint at a cure.
Looking back on my notes now, I laugh to see how clearly they betray that my husband’s disciplined habits
of impartial observation, and his attempts to derive simple explanations for complex
and seemingly disparate facts, were transferred to myself!
While on the topic of science, I am most comforted to learn that my husband’s
legacy has helped guide the development of cures for the deadly afflictions that
ultimately took the lives of our dearest Annie and Charles Jr. and so many other
innocent children.
Now waves of nostalgia wash over me, and I am moved to recall Charles’s last
words, so marked by his physical pain and yet so full of love for me and our children,
and concern for our welfare above his own. It grieves me to learn that some in
these modern times think of him as a cold, hard man failing in – or even actively
shunning – the preciousness of human life, for it was in its very cause that my
husband worked so painstakingly to demonstrate that the bond of common descent
is shared by all living things.
Emma Darwin (1808-1896) married Charles in 1839 and outlived him by 14 years. They had 10
children. She was assisted in writing for us by
Karen James, a geneticist in the Botany Department of the
Natural History Museum who is also co-ordinating the Museum’s Darwin200 science projects. Karen is
also Director of Science for the
HMS Beagle Project, in association with which she co-writes
The Beagle Project Blog.
For information about events and activities taking place across the UK throughout
the bi-centenary year, visit Darwin200.