| Martin | This piece was written by a good friend of mine a couple of years ago. I came across it this week when I was clearing out some of my documents after my pc crashed. I thought it was worth sharing.
It's a bit different from the usual forum stuff but worth a read.
Vanished Hero -was Turpington right?
Few people today have ever heard of Sir Hubert Moncrieff-Turpington (1817 - 1893). Disgracefully, his work was proscribed within months of being published. Anathematised by the Church and disowned by the establishment, he was more vilified than was his contemporary, Darwin, whose evolution hypothesis overshadowed Sir Hubert's less flattering postulations. The academics of the time suppressed his
conclusions, going so far as to expunge his name from the records of the Royal Society.
This departure from scientific objectivity continues to anger Sir Hubert's great grandson, Charles Moncrieff - (the Turpington was dropped after Sir Hubert's death from an opiate overdose).
The Barony of Berkhamstitch was also abolished in 1882, following representations by the then Prince of Wales, who took strong exception to Sir Hubert's ideas.
Charles, like father and grandfather before him, has devoted his life to seeking a vindication of Sir Hubert. Unhappily, the scientific community continues an obdurate refusal to acknowledge Sir Hubert's existence.
The family's efforts have resulted in an accumulation of detailed documentary evidence that supports the notion of Sir Hubert's superior contribution to the science of anthropology. Charles hopes that his own studies in this field will provide the final proof.
It was during his time as Regius Professor of Anthropology at Ipstones University, that Sir Hubert formulated his unacceptable hypothesis.
Unlike Darwin, he was a competent medical man. This is evidenced by admiring references to his medical skills in correspondence between his university contemporaries, and by his classic work on anthropometry, now in the Bodelian Library. However, he was primarily concerned with social man. Like the late Margaret Mead, a close friend of the Moncrieffs and admirer of Sir Hubert's analytical style, he was a practical field researcher. Between 1858 and 1870, he researched in Africa and Australia. In 1862, he accompanied Winwoode Read to Fernando Po, from where Read began his exploration in search of the gorillas - stuffed specimens of which had been exhibited in London by Paul Du Chaillu. When Read fell ill, Sir Hubert nursed him back to health, thus saving Read to continue his journey, including the famous trek along the banks of the Congo, following in Livingstone's footsteps.
Read, in the, "The Martyrdom of Man", makes no reference to his debt to Sir Hubert, although without his help, it is unlikely that he would have lived to write his apostasic masterpiece. A hint of the reason for this ingratitude is contained in a letter from Sir Hubert to his wife, Lady Mary, in which he refers to Read as a "bumptious upstart, with a head too large for his small understanding!" Clearly, there was little affection lost between them.
They parted company at the Portugese town of San Paola de Loanda, and while Read went on to Bathurst (since 1973, Banjui), Sir Hubert stayed to study the slave culture of Loanda. It was there that he began to question the genotyping of the various hominid species.
He returned to England in 1863 and for two years lived in East London, where he continued to gather material for his monumental "Anthropoligium Mysterium". At this time, his reasoning was almost completely worked through and he needed only to test his theory. He visited Australia in 1867. After eighteen months living with the aboriginals in New South Wales, he returned to Ipstones in 1869 and the next year published his findings.
It was not well received and he became the subject of great opprobrium, even from Victoria, who is said to have been almost beside herself with rage. There is no record of her comments, but a sad note from Lady Mary to her friend, Joan Winstanly of Egerton Park, in July of 1870, reveals a bewilderment at being unaccountably excluded from the Queen's entourage in that year's trip to the Highlands.
"What on earth have I done?" she pleads. "Surely, Hubert's book is not to blame - is it?"
As we approach the year 2002, replete with a wealth of evidence of which Sir Hubert would have been envious, it is hard to understand the outrage that followed the publication of that seminal work, and even harder to understand the ignominy that attached itself to the entire family because of it. After all, in 1859, The Origin of Species had aroused a more justified bitterness.
Whereas much of the "Origin" was conjecture, the "Mysterium" was a product of Sir Hubert's profound understanding of statistics. Indeed, he worked for a time at Ipstones with Babbage, and had Babbage not died in 1871, the pair might well have gone on to demonstrate further mathematical proof of his ideas. In that year, Darwin's "Descent of Man" was published and fortunately for the Moncrieff family, the effects of Victorian England's facility with the arts of ostracism were confined only to ensuring his intellectual banishment, as the establishment turned to examining this new - and less damaging view - of mankind.
What was it that caused the humiliation of a brilliant thinker and his eventual suicide? He did not, as would Winwoode Read, two years later, question the nature of God. Nor had he, unlike Darwin, repudiated the Creation.
All he did was prove, by scientific method, that the genus 'Homo Sapiens' - modern man - was in fact only a sub order of the true genus 'Homo Stumerens'. He had gone on to describe other sub orders - Homo Stumerens stupidens, Homo Stumerens pronus/supinus/porcinus/exus arthreus and many others. The classifications were models of clinical nicety and were supported by a detailed analysis of history that, without the anthropological connotations, would have made the 'Mysterium' the definitive historical text of the century. However, the vastness of his erudition could not deflect the odium hurled his way because of the work's underlying propositions.
Following the prosecution of his publisher under the Blasphemy Act, every available copy was seized and destroyed. As far as is known no copy remains. All that is left to give us a hint of its content is a short essay by Herbert Spencer supporting his idea, and a single sheet of proof print - a graph entitled "Exponential Degenerative Intellect." Without the necessary explanatory page, this fragment is of value only in showing the care with which Sir Hubert crafted his statistical evidence. The piece was retained by a curious typesetter - one Mortimer Smith - who hid it in the loft of his father's house, prior to his arrest and subsequent imprisonment for contempt of court.
After Sir Hubert's expulsion from the university in 1872, all his records were confiscated and destroyed. Luckily, before he returned to England from Africa in 1863, he arranged with Captain Richard Burton (later Sir Richard), the Consul at Fernando Po, to have made duplicates of the notes relating to his time with the cocoa slaves. It had been his intention to return to the Gambia for further research and he wanted to avoid the logistic difficulties associated with the porterage of large amounts of paper.
The painstakingly hand copied documents were discovered in 1973, in Trieste - Burton's last posting in 1872. He had many friends there - principally, admirers of his erotic publications - and it was from the descendants of one of these that Charles acquired them. Burton's wife destroyed most of her husband's diaries, but of the few remaining and presently in the British Museum, Charles was able to discover the likely recipient of Sir Hubert's papers. Burton was a conscientious man and we can be grateful that he took care to safeguard his responsibility from his widow's wrath.
The cultures from which Sir Hubert took his observations are no longer extant. However, his methods of analysis and observation criteria are clearly set out. Using these methods, Charles has derived an updated version of the Mysterium. The notes relating to the Australasian researches were, of course, destroyed during the purge of the University's archives. Charles has, however, undertaken his own research in Sydney and also in Melbourne and the Dandenong hills.
He believes that much of the anger generated by the Mysterium may have resulted from Sir Hubert's dour treatment of his subject. In the surviving cocoa plantation notes, for instance, there is no reference to any of the lighter preoccupations of the slaves and their masters. The Mysterium must have painted a dark picture of the human condition, and such a cruel prognosis, that it is not surprising that those reading it were outraged.
The nineteenth century was characterised by a belief in the supremacy of human beings. The burgeoning sciences promised Olympian grandeur. Mankind was perceived to be standing on the threshold of great moments. His intellect was about to become incandescent and bidding to outshine the stars. People saw a growing mastery of the elements and they were imbued with God-like feelings that not even Darwin's douche or Read's critique could altogether dispel.
They could accept, grudgingly, Darwin's unflattering thesis. The proof he offered was incomplete and could be argued about with a reasonable prospect of successful refutation, for the ultimate truth about the Creation was not available. Even today, there are those who argue that the complexity of evolutionary systems is no less 'miraculous' than 'instantaneous' creation.
Both ideas are in accord with notions of an Omnipotent Force - or God.
Similarly, Read's beautifully reasoned and eloquent destruction of religious myth lacked concrete proofs, and could therefore be regarded only as the basis of philosophical discussions. His claims that "Supernatural Christianity is False. God worship is Idolatry. Prayer is useless. The soul is not immortal. There are no rewards and no punishments in a future state." can be neither proved nor disproved. His offerings could be accepted or denied without in any way affecting self esteem. True, he was much criticised. When the "Martyrdom" was published, both the "Times" and the "Spectator" refused to review the work.
The "Mysterium", however, was not mere hypothesis but the statement of self-evident truths. It contained unassailable proof of Sir Hubert's conclusions. It corrected the errors of contemporary genotyping and proved man's irrelevance in the cosmic scheme and the inevitability of his demise. It derided both his intellect and his vaunted potential. Far from growing to rival God in majesty and power, the species was doomed to extinction. Man, Sir Hubert claimed, did not evolve. He was a mutant error. An incredible mistake by the Omniscient. Far from being a necessary presence at the Revelation of the Creator's purpose, man was the prime inhibiting factor that would delay the Revelation until his self destruction allowed the rest of creation to progress towards that unfathomable destiny.
Hubert was not a literary man. He eschewed the gentleness of euphemism in favour of a bleak prose. The message was cruel, the manner of its delivery harsh, and so the messenger was despatched to the oblivion reserved for the bearers of bad news.
Charles, in collaboration with the sociologist, Joyce Turpington (no relation), has rewritten his ancestor's book. They have sought to soften the dreadful and portentous manner of the original, to make the work more readable - and acceptable.
Modern readers are better educated and more tolerant of extreme views than those of the last century, but they believe that the ultimate acceptance of Sir Hubert's stark realities is better facilitated by gentleness than by brutality.
Charles also believes that when the new "Anthropologium Mysterium" is published early next year, almost a century of dedicated striving will be successful in vindicating the tragic Sir Hubert and his unjustly treated family, and thus restore him to his proper place in the pantheon of great minds. He also hopes, one day, to supplicate the Queen for the reinstatement of the lost Barony.
Revelation of the stunning conclusions in advance of publication is not possible. However, the following extract may whet the appetite. The classification nomenclature is not that devised by Sir Hubert, for too few of his records remain, but Charles and Joyce have managed to retain the spirit of the original by careful use of comparative philology, in which Hubert's scholarly employment of Latinate terminology can clearly be identified.
June 1st, 1863 - a reconstruction of a letter sent by Sir Hubert to his friend, Squire Russell Vaughan Owens of Banhadlog Hall, Tylwch, Llanidloes, Powys. The original letter is missing but its content has been recompiled from the Owens family archives, in which many references to Sir Hubert’s correspondences with his friend Squire Owens occur.
I cannot say truthfully that I lost sleep, for I was not sleeping well and though I scowled at them through my window, they posed no serious threat either to my person or my peace of mind. I returned from a visit to the quiet of Mid Wales and the calming effects of a couple of days spent with you, my dear friend, to a particularly noisy night. I write now to thank you for your hospitality and include for your amusement a few paragraphs about the dipsomaniacs. Overhung with the pleasant effects of my stay, I am not inclined to be too bitter:
" As an example, right now, through my window, (which is open to let in some fresh air), I can hear the song of the urban night crawler, a species peculiar to these parts. Gregarious creatures, they rarely emerge from their lairs much before midnight. When they do so, it is with much hilarity and raucous calling. Their song is complex and not easy to understand and tends to be sung to an accompaniment of the sounds of breaking glass and the tintinnabulation of pewter drinking vessels. These last they scatter with careless benevolence along their route.
Their digestive system is not known to be markedly different from ours although a number of anomalies have been observed. Scavengers by nature, they ingest large quantities of offal and semiputrescent material, known by names such as "donnerkebab" -or "burgers" - the latter an unsavoury import from our former colony of the Americas. They are particularly fond of certain vegetables, fried in animal fat and garnished with pungent mixtures of dead birds and spices. These last items are not often eaten however. The main purpose in acquiring them is, it is believed, for use in ritual in order to demonstrate tribal unity. The careful placing of portions of the uneaten mixture in the doorways of houses and upon the hoods of the more expensive carriages, is possibly a complicated territorial marking exercise and it may also indicate a deep rooted dislike of the normal fauna.
It is perhaps significant in this regard, that when such food is eaten in its entirety - a rare occurrence - it is only partially digested before being regurgitated and deposited in the same manner as is the uneaten food.
The body covering is often colourful and ostentatious, though lacking greatly the redemptive stylishness of the late Beau Brummel.. The male of the species favours tight garments, known as "strides", (another abominable import from our former colony) which are carefully tailored to accentuate the shape and size of the genitalia. In this, they have much in common with the aristocratic members of the infamous HellFire Club, and from whom, no doubt, the crawlers have taken their inspiration.
Upper body clothing is sometimes sleeveless in order to display the musculature of the forelimbs. These tend to be carried on raised scapulae and the general appearance, athough of course, hominid, approximates to that of the larger primates.
Many of the females can be considered as attractive to normals and indeed, crossbreeding sometimes occurs. However, the progeny of such miscegenation almost always conform to the predominant crawler genes and such unions are rarely successful.
Disregarding aesthetic considerations, the crawler female is, like her male counterpart, loud and dull of intellect. Her main preoccupations are personal adornment, communicating with other females using antlike jerkings of limbs - often, although not
always, carried out to sounds similar to our music - and frequent, undiscriminating sexual intercourse.
In pursuit of the first she shows little taste and almost no colour sense when equipping herself for the nightly forays into the feeding grounds. Some authorities have suggested that the crawler may be colour blind and certainly, the garish appearance of many of the crawlers tends to support this view. The purpose of the ungainly gesticulations is not clear, although the toxicity of the food and drink favoured by them may be a contributory factor. The accompanying sounds are a mystery about which there remains much speculation.
Sexually, they are very active indeed and they exhibit little of that shyness usually associated with the primates. Often, the copulations take place in the same doorways that are used for the food marking and this suggests that the postulations of tribal rituals may be correct. Confirming perhaps, that the crawlers may be a hitherto undiscovered sub species of the genus Homo Erectus, a distant relative of Homo Supinus and the lesser known Homo Pronus.
The females' predisposition to urinogenital disorders associated with the last activity indicates a lack of discernment in that area also.
They are, unfortunately, protected by statute, and shooting, snaring, poisoning are forbidden, as is shouting at them in a loud voice, "Bogger off! you noisy bustards!". This latter remedy is not in any case recommended. For whilst it does indeed attract the herd's attention, it also usually results in it taking retaliatory action. As most members of this species are of ferocious disposition, the response is likely to be unpleasant. In general, one has recourse to the help of the custodians of statute. However, the Peelers, being of porcine persuasion, are often too busy rooting elsewhere to be of timely assistance. When they do eventually arrive, the loud whistles, clankings of harness, and clatter of hooves on the cobblestones that accompany their appearance are often more annoying than the nuisance which prompts the sufferer to enlist their aid.
For most people, the shutting of windows and a ferocious playing of the parlour piano (the Brahms First Piano Concerto is very effective) is the only procedure available to mitigate the nuisance caused by these night crawlers. Luckier people, like me, can retreat to Banhadlog and the comfort of reasoning friends when it all gets too much! "
copyright R.Harding 2001
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