personal—the carrier and his team of horses; the river pilot; Samuel Smith, Ray’s bookseller and agent in London; and Bobart, whose personal expertise guided the safe shipment of the cases of plants and insects. The national network developed largely for commercial use, to bear loads of raw and finished materials (food, such as butter, eggs, and grain; raw wool and finished cloth; fuel, such as coal and wood) around the country, but once in place, it could just as well support the collecting games of curious naturalists.
Moving People
In the seventeenth century, travel, even within Britain, was no small matter. In his Celtic travels Edward Lhuyd was more than once mistaken for a spy or a tax collector, handled roughly, and thrown in jail; in the remoter reaches of Britain, he was unable to reach friends through the mail. John Ray, incapacitated by old age and painful sores on his legs, was unable to make the journey from Essex to Oxford.
Despite these difficulties, though, naturalists and antiquaries traveled avidly and planned prospective trips even more avidly. They did so for two reasons. The first motive was similar to that driving the exchange and circulation of specimens and objects. Naturalists traveled in order to observe nature firsthand and build the comprehensive collections of plant, animal, and mineral specimens upon which their work was based. Antiquarians also traveled with the aim of developing their collections. They gathered descriptions and sketches of ancient monuments, transcribed chronicles and other texts in out-of-the-way libraries, and dug up such relics as Roman coins and long-buried bones. But travel was not just about collecting specimens and observing nature. It had a second, social, raison d’être: naturalists and antiquarians also journeyed to talk with each other, to establish and renew the bonds of friendship and correspondence.
Edward Lhuyd, in subscription proposals for his study of the natural history, antiquities, and languages of the Celtic regions of Britain, best summed up naturalists’ intellectual reasons for travel: “It’s well known, no kind of Writing requires more Expences and Fatigue, than that of Natural History and Antiquities: it being impossible to perform any thing accurately in those Studies, without much Travelling, and diligent Searching, as well the most desert Rocks and Mountains, as the more frequented Valleys and Plains. The Caves, Mines, and Quarries must be pry’d into, as well as the outward Surface of the Earth; nor must we have less regard to the Creatures of the Sea, Lakes, and Rivers, than those of the Air and Dry Land.”82 Lhuyd described the difficulties (and the joys, quite possibly) of natural historical travel: the naturalist traveled all the most arduous roads, over rocks, mountains, and deserts, and into caves, mines, and quarries.
Antiquarian research also required substantial travel. Lhuyd’s linkage of natural history and antiquities led the way here, in that the firsthand research increasingly prized in both natural history and antiquarian circles was accomplished only through travel.83 Lhuyd’s predecessor at the Ashmolean, Robert Plot, in proposing a journey through Wales and England in search of “curiosities of both Art and Nature,” wrote,
And first, whereas it was a considerable part of the Business of John Leland with all imaginable Care to collect and preserve the ancient MSS. Books of the Abbeys and Monasteries then upon their Dissolution, and that notwithstanding his industrious Performances great numbers there were that never came to his Hands; and such as did, quickly after his Death, through the Iniquity of the Times, being dispers’d again, great part of the MSS. in England are, as it were, lost to the World, lying secretly in Corners and in private Hands, no Man knowing either what MSS. there be, or where to find them: it shall be one of the principal Ends of my Journey to search all the Publick Libraries of Cathedral and Collegiate Churches, of the Colleges in each University, and other Publick Libraries wheresoever, and make distinct Catalogues of them all. And as for such MSS. as shall be found in private Hands, it would not be amiss if the University of Oxford would imploy me to buy up (if they cannot be begg’d) as many as can be purchas’d for the Bodlejan Library; and where they will by no means be parted with to procure leave (if worth while) that an Amanuensis may transcribe the whole, or at least have the Perusal and Liberty to make Abridgements, as Leland did of many. But if neither of these will be admitted, ’twill be some satisfaction that they are added to the Catalogues of the rest, to inform Men that there are such Books, and in what libraries and in whose Hands they are.84
As Plot’s description of his plan indicated, travel, for natural historians and antiquarians, required a certain willingness to be invasive. Not only did they peer into quarries and trek to the tops of mountains; they also invited themselves into the private libraries of gentlemen and the public libraries of bishops. Plot anticipated difficulty from the gentlemen (though not the bishops): he hoped to buy up or transcribe manuscripts in private hands but realized that he might be granted neither sufficient funds nor access to the manuscripts and would have to content himself with simply making note of them in a catalog.
Given the material and social obstacles facing the traveler, how did natural historians and antiquaries manage their expeditions? Realizing that they were likely to encounter suspicion and resistance, travelers sought credentials that would encourage those they met to accept and assist them. Letters of recommendation were the typical remedy. Plot, noting that John Leland traveled as an official emissary of Henry VIII, desired a similar commission from Charles II: “And as for such MSS. or other Curiosities that shall be found in private Hands, a Recommendation from his Majesty must needs prove so effectual, that I shall surely be admitted to the perusal or making an Abridgement of any MSS. and of having a Sight and Examination of all other Rarities either of Art or Nature.”85 The king’s word, though, was not sufficient for Plot; he also planned a sort of letters-of-reference pyramid scheme. He obtained a general letter of recommendation (it might as well have been addressed “To whom it may concern”) signed by Ralph Bathurst, Oxford’s vice chancellor; John Wallis, professor of geometry; and James Hyde, one of Charles II’s personal physicians, among others.86 He planned to take this letter and other, more personalized letters of recommendation to the most ingenious people in every county and ask them in turn for letters to the next level of ingeniosity that the counties offered.87 Plot’s general letter of commendation was handwritten on parchment, which was more durable than paper and so better able to withstand the rigor of travel.
Through their correspondence traveling naturalists smoothed the path before them by cultivating local connections in advance of trips. In one letter to Martin Lister, Edward Lhuyd sought several different letters of introduction in preparation for his travels in Ireland and Scotland. Lhuyd wrote from Wales six weeks before embarking to Ireland. He asked Lister to point him toward “some acquaintance there who may direct us to make the best of our time” as well as particular introductions to a Dr. Wellase, mentioned in Lister’s previous letters, “and any other particular friend in Ireland.” He further recalled that John Campbell, the second Earl Breadalbane (1662–1752), had promised letters of introduction to Lister if he ever traveled to the Scottish Highlands. As that was the next leg of Lhuyd’s trip after Ireland, he begged Lister to see if that promise could be extended to him.88
In order to make the most of their travels and win access to private lands and private libraries, naturalists such as Lhuyd had to win the confidence of people who were not naturalists. The average landowner in the Scottish Highlands was unlikely to be impressed with Edward Lhuyd himself or a letter of introduction bearing Martin Lister’s signature. But the signature of John Campbell, as Lhuyd recognized, could easily open doors. Campbell’s value lay in both his stature and his local renown. He was not just any lord but one known locally in the Highlands. A naturalist’s connections, no matter how prominent, were worthless if they were not recognized by the locals to whose libraries and resources he sought access.
Other letters of Lhuyd’s confirm the importance of cultivating prominent local connections above all else. In preparation for sailing to Brittany, the last leg of his trip through Celtic-speaking regions of Britain and France, Lhuyd wrote to his friend Thomas Tonkin.89 Lhuyd had heard that Tonkin’s father-in-law corresponded with a gentleman at the port of Morlaix, where Lhuyd planned to land. Lhuyd specifically
