I have enjoyed reading the late Marianne Gosztonyi Ainley’s (1937-2008) account of William Rowan’s life, from its beginning, in 1891 at Basel in Switzerland, as the son of a railway engineer from Northern Ireland and a Danish mother, to the end, in 1957, at home alone in Edmonton, Alberta.
Marianne Ainley covered all aspects of Rowan’s life in detail. Since there is available online what is essentially a précis of her 378 page book I will not repeat the basic information other than to say that Rowan had become obsessed with the idea of getting to western Canada while at Bedford School. He was inspired to travel, study, draw and photograph the wildlife, by visits to the school by Richard Kearton, showing his brother Cherry’s photographs of birds, and by Ernest Thompson Seton who talked about the large mammals of Canada and the USA. Rowan’s widowed mother held and the pursestrings and was eventually persuaded and she arranged for him to be a ranch pupil with a British family in Alberta. Thus Rowan was in Alberta for a first time in 1908, to the less than comfortable world of a ranch pupil but travelling first class on his mother’s insistence. He returned to Britain in 1910 where he crammed for matriculation to London university. He then returned to Canada, doing the odd job in Winnipeg while roaming and photographing the country and its wildlife. He was persuaded both by friends in Canada and family to take the place at University College London; he then had to find his own fare for the voyage.
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| The Dark-eyed Junco (Junco hyemalis) was one of two species used in early experiments on varying daylength* |
Thus began Rowan’s the zoological career but in describing it Ainley left a number of unanswered questions while missing clues that could have led to explanations of events. Some of Ainley’s interpretations are amusingly wrong while others are completely out of touch with life, the university scene or science in the early years of the 20th century. On a general note I often find accounts written by historians of science to be unsatisfactory simple because those historians have not been steeped in the discipline or of how practitioners within that discipline lived and operated. Similarly, conventions of the time are often judged through the lens of the present. Thus it was not at all strange that Mrs Rowan was left at home to do the housework and look after the children. Nor was it, or is it, odd that Rowan in following his many interests neglected to give his wife and children his full attention. The response of most of my scientific acquaintances to that statement would be, ‘Yes…and?’
Rowan clearly enjoyed studying zoology and botany, particularly the field work involved, while failing intermediate physics twice. He also wrote popular articles and took photographs while a student. With the course uncompleted he, like many of his fellow students, enlisted in the 14th (Reserve) County of London Battalion of London Scottish Regiment, a month after the declaration of war with Germany. However, Private Rowan became ill during his first long leave, during which time he returned to the labs at UCL. He had bouts of illness throughout his life. His leave was extended and the army then discharged him as ‘no longer fit physically for war service’. He had served 1 year, 68 days when he returned to civilian life in November 1915. With the family fortunes, which were held mainly in French stocks and shares, declining because of the war, Rowan spent a year in pursuing energetically his interests in natural history, while worrying about getting a job such while considering lecturing and taxidermy as possibilities. In October 1916 he returned to UCL for his much delayed final year. He graduated in 1917 with Third Class Honours, six years after he had begun life as a student.
Although not commenting specifically on the class of his honours degree, Ainley argued that Rowan never really got the hang of doing exams and that Bedford School was more interested in producing sportsmen than learned gentlemen. While later in the century, a ‘third’ would have been a bar to further life in a university, this was clearly not the case at the time.
Rowan spent a over year teaching at Eastby and at Bedales, a public (i.e. for non-British readers, a non-state, fee-paying, private school) school in Hampshire. Then came the offer of several jobs and his acceptance of one of them, assistant in the Department of Zoology at UCL, in effect an assistant lectureship including responsibilities within the departmental museum. He had, however, through a contact, applied for a new post in the University of Manitoba in Winnipeg. Keen to return again to Canada, its wild places and its wildlife, he amassed a great deal of support for his application from leading British zoologists:
[J.P>] Hill stressed Rowan's qualifications in zoology, his wide knowledge of ornithology, his artistic talent, his excellence as a lecturer, and his "driving power and considerable organising ability.” Oliver wrote about Rowan's resourcefulness as a naturalist and his knowledge of bird protection. Dr. P. Chalmers Mitchell, secretary of the Zoological Society of London, praised Rowan's aptitude for fieldwork and his capacity for executive work.
He was offered the post in Winnipeg and therefore had to resign from the UCL job before he had started.
A month before he left for Canada in October 1919, Rowan married Reta Guenever Mary Bush whom he had met while she was an art student at the Slade. From their arrival in Quebec, they made their way to Winnipeg. After a short time in Winnipeg, Rowan was recruited to the University of Alberta by Tory. The pay was better with a promise of a chair in the offing.
Rowan’s work on the importance of changing daylength as the trigger for migration was done on a shoestring and his ‘Restless Energy’, the title of Ainley’s biography, meant that had had lots of other activities in hand, often out in the wilds of western Canada, in addition to starting a department from scratch including gathering and preparing specimens and posters. He worked at home, in the lab (such as it was) and in the field for virtually every hour of every day. However, it is obvious that he seemed unable to prioritise, leaving his daylength experiment to a helper over a crucial period, for example.
His friends in UK to whom he complained about Tory’s animus, lack of funding and lack of appreciation of his work in Canada really could not understand why Rowan stayed in Alberta. Indeed after his death Julian Huxley stated that ‘Rowan was one of the best experimental zoologists of the 20th century. But why, with all his talents, did the fool have to bury himself in Alberta?”
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| The American Crow (Corvus brachyrhynchos) played a major part in migration experiments in the wild** |
Given his association with Huxley it seems anomalous that he, at one stage in his life, was supporting Lamarckism and hoped that with his crow experiments in which birds were exposed to different daylengths ‘he may be able to adduce some evidence in support of the Lamarckian concept of evolution’. Although, as Ainley remarked, belief in Lamarck was not unusual amongst confused zoologists of the 1920s, the year the newspapers reported this, 1931, is interesting and Ainley seems to have missed the significance. In 1931 Rowan was persuaded by his friends to apply for the chair of zoology at McGill. He assembled a body of supporters in Britain and the USA. Amongst them was Ernest MacBride, a previous professor of zoology in McGill and now at Imperial College in London. MacBride, as I have recounted here was both an ardent Lamarckian, denying the existence of genes or mutations, and extreme eugenicist. MacBride has been described as Lamarck’s last disciple on earth and it cannot have done Rowan any harm in MacBride’s eyes to be seen as a Lamarckist. However, whether or not Julian Huxley, one of those responsible for the great synthesis of genetics, development and morphology in Darwinian evolution, got to know of Rowan’s statements I do not know. Despite the enormous level of support, Tory managed to kill off any chance of Rowan getting the McGill chair. In Alberta he stayed.
With the level of support given by leading zoologists in Britain and his international reputation, I find it odd that Ainley made no mention of a missing accolade. William Rowan was not a Fellow of the Royal Society. Had he been proposed but not elected? Or had his putative proposers not been able to garner enough support for a proposal to be made?
One might have thought that once the active, local, torment of Tory had disappeared off the scene and that once he finally made it to full professor (1931) he would have had a relatively untroubled existence in Alberta, even if money remained in short supply for his research. However, as he got closer to retirement long-standings members of his own department—whom he had backed relentlessly for advancement and better pay—turned against him; a demonstration of ‘no good turn goes unpunished’.
Given the explosion of interest in the photoperiodic control of reproduction that followed in Rowan’s wake it is noticeable how poorly or insufficiently appreciated in their own countries were some of its most successful scientists, ‘Jock ‘Marshall is one example; Don Farner (1915-1988) another.
By the time of Rowans death in 1957, the world of photoperiodism had moved on to the role of day length in controlling the onset of reproduction, rather than migration, and to the burgeoning field of neuroendocrinology. Rowan’s work was known about but no longer referred to. For example, in three long reviews of aspects of environmental control of reproduction in birds and the physiological mechanisms responsible for a symposium I organised in 1973, Rowan did not get a mention.
Despite my qualms, some of which I have pointed out, Marianne Ainley made a great contribution to our knowledge of William Rowan. She, herself, had a remarkable life history. Born Marika Veronika Gosztonyi in Budapest in 1937, she escaped from the Russian tanks advancing to put down the revolution of 1956 by walking along the railway line into Austria. From there she was able to reach an uncle in Sweden. In 1958 she moved to Canada and worked as a technician and research assistant having studied chemistry in Budapest for four years. A keen birdwatcher, she changed tack completely and became a research assistant in the history of science. In that field she obtained an MSc and then a PhD at McGill on the history of ornithology and avian biology in Canada. She was then at Concordia University and finally, as a full professor at the University of Northern British Columbia. She retired in 2002 and died of cancer in 2008.
I leave William Rowan in the words with which Marianne Ainley introduced Restless Energy:
WILLIAM ROWAN has been considered a Renaissance man, a man of integrity, a famous biologist, a flamboyant showman, a challenging teacher, and often a nuisance. His work as a scientist has been highly regarded by biologists all over the world, and his experiments have been covered in numerous zoology textbooks. Who was this scientist? What was he like as a person, a family man, a colleague, a friend? Why was he so well known to contemporary scientists, and why do we still find written references to his scientific work while, apart from anecdotal descriptions about his escapades in the field, little is known about the details of his life?
Convinced that William Rowan was an important subject for a biography, I went to Edmonton in July 1985 to see the environment where he lived and worked; to talk to the people who knew him as friend, teacher, and colleague, and who admired him as a world-renowned scientist, highly respected wildlife artist, and outstanding conservationist. Inevitably, other facets of his character came to light: his integrity, his kindness, his egotism, his unfailing need to criticize mediocrity, his ability to inspire others, his love of beauty and of nature. I learned of his exquisitely designed conservation stamps, Christmas cards, and hand-painted menus; of his great skill as a self-taught sculptor and musician, and as a builder of model sailing boats and a unique single-gauge model railway. I found that he had been well known as a radio personality, and as the man who tried to make crows fly the wrong way. Nearly thirty years after his death, William Rowan was still very much alive in Edmonton, and even those who had never set eyes on him could tell a few choice stories about his escapades. Indeed, as I gradually discovered, Rowan was an unusual individual — a Renaissance man in Alberta.
*https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Dark-eyed_Junco,_Washington_State_02.jpg
** CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=2310490
Ainley MG. 1988. Rowan vs Tory: Conflicting views of scientific research in Canada, 1920-1935. Scientia Canadensis: Canadian Journal of the History of Science, Technology and Medicine 1, 3-21.
Ainley MG. 1993. Restless Energy. A Biography of William Rowan 1891-1957. Montreal: Véhicule Press.
Houston CS. 2009. In Memoriam: Marianne G Ainley, 1937-2008. The Auk 126, 699.
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