Wonderful creatures from long ago can still be imagined in all their glory at the National History Museum, writes Eileen Battersby
A trio of giant Irish deer appear to form a skeletal but mighty guard of honour. Each as tall as a 16-hand horse, two of them, the males, still bear the magnificent antlers spanning some two metres. A one time champion Irish wolfhound gazes thoughtfully at the world, while various family groups including the rabbit - introduced by the Anglo-Normans - pine martens, badgers, foxes and otters, seem too preoccupied with their domestic setting to take much note of the many passing humans. Thousands of watching eyes peer from the sidelines - the birds. They are naturally inquisitive and some of them, like the owls, always manage to look like indignant schoolteachers counting to 10.
Bustle and noise; shuffles, gasps and squeals rend the air. But all the sounds are made by the humans. The animals, admired and studied, are all long at peace. These are specimens, caught like John J Audubon's famous birds in life-like poses. Somehow, aside from the skeletons, they appear to defy death. When you are looking at them, you think of them as alive. Others are models.
To visit the Natural History Museum at Merrion Square, Dublin, in its elegant 19th-century home designed by Frederick Clarendon, and guarded by a statue of Thomas Heazle Parke (1857-1893), surgeon and traveller, is to enter another world, and another time - only the shop clumsily spanning the entrance spoils the effect. But once you've walked past it, it is possible to overlook that inevitable commercial barrier.
FIRST OPENED IN 1857, two years before the publication of Darwin's The Origin of Species, the Natural History Museum remains a wonder - a Victorian cabinet museum with a collection of about two million specimens, of which 10,000 are on display throughout four floors of exhibition space.
It is also a favourite with families, who have come here for generations. No single visit is ever enough. It takes more than a full day to examine the dazzlingly colourful butterfly collection alone. Within minutes it becomes easy to share Nabokov's lepidopterist obsession. A woman tells her two small grandsons and daughter how she had brought their mother here when "she was smaller than you are now, and I came here with my parents". One of the boys asks her if the polar bear can swim. "Like a fish," she says, but clearly, as she points to the bullet hole in the bear's head, the museum's bear wasn't quite fast enough.
Many an Irish zoologist discovered a life's vocation here as a child in the company of parents eager to introduce them to the splendours of the natural world. Among the creatures familiar from wildlife documentaries and zoos, are examples of extinct and rare animals.
Many of the exhibits were collected by natural scientists or donated by gifted collectors such as RM Barrington of Bray, whose wonderful bird collection included many that met their end by crashing into Irish lighthouses. The mighty skeletons of the giant Irish deer were found preserved in bogs. Others such as the polar bear were shot by Leopold McClintock (1819-1907) from Co Louth, who having joined the British navy in 1831, began on an exciting career as an Arctic explorer. He served on voyages of discovery throughout the region, travelling by sled, a method of transport that improved thanks to his innovative flair.
He led his first expedition in 1852. Three years later, Lady Franklin asked him to lead an expedition to search for her husband, the missing explorer Sir John Franklin. McClintock set off and tracked down the remains of the Franklin expedition. The entire crew of 130, including Franklin, had perished in the ice.
McClintock brought back the skin of the polar bear as well as the museum's musk ox mother and calf, which had been shot to feed his sledge teams. Along the walls of the museum are many trophy heads donated by explorers and hunters. Others had once been displayed in the halls and dining rooms of the great houses of Ireland, before eventually being given to the museum.
As well as being a major educational institution, devised to introduce and inform visitors on the miracles of the natural world, the museum testifies to the great tradition begun in the 18th century when gentlemen collectors looked to geology, botany and zoology. In Ireland, many inspired amateurs provided the bedrock that resulted in pursuits developing into serious scientific study. By the late 18th century the Royal Dublin Society had obtained State funding for the purchase of a natural history collection and this was housed in various buildings before its gracious permanent home was secured.
There is also, of course, the lingering trace of the age of exploration and conquest. Obviously, most of the mounted heads belonged to animals who met their end, not in the pursuit of science, but through "sport" and bounty hunting. It is difficult not to feel outraged at the sight of such heads, although they are merely of their time. Yet it is exciting to be able to look closely at creatures such as the Oribi Ourebia, a lovely antelope, and the sea horse or the pied falconet. Less beautiful but equally fascinating are the giant anteater and the sloth, the rhino and the hippo. Also on display is the skeleton of a dodo.
MUSEUMS SUCH AS this contain the only examples of extinct species, from the giant Irish deer to the Thylacine Thylacinus cynocephalus or "Tasmanian Tiger", a wild dog that once roamed Tasmania until exasperated sheep farmers intervened. The last one in captivity died in a Tasmanian zoo in 1935, while the Dublin exhibit was killed in Tasmania in 1917.
Methods of conservation and the art of taxidermy have progressed since many of the specimens first arrived here. The larger animals are "stuffed" but the process is more sophisticated than that suggests. Any large mammal intended for display is skinned shortly after death and a model of the body is made based on measurements taken before the skinning. The treated skin or hide is then stretched over this form. In the 19th century, the forms tended to be made of wood, but now plastic is used.
Spoticus, the young male giraffe on view, looks tall by human standards, but giraffe-watchers will note he is not quite fully grown, even though you have to walk up a few flights of stairs to look him in the eye. Giraffes grow until the age of 10, but Spoticus was only five years old when he died of natural causes in a zoo in The Netherlands.
According to zoologist Catherine McGuinness of the museums's education and outreach department, Spoticus arrived at the museum in 2003 in a black sack, his treated skin neatly folded. He was then fitted to a form and his skin was pinned in place until the glue dried. Today he looks beautiful, having retained his gentle, benign expression in death.
Several of the older large animal exhibits, such as the elephants and the rhino, had been treated with various substances that make them look darker, and many of the bones are black. Castor oil is applied to the skins to prevent cracking. Ongoing conservation work is renewing many of the specimens.
It is fascinating to see Irish mammals juxtaposed with international wildlife. Every visitor remembers the basking shark and the giant whale skeletons. It would take months to look at the birds, both native and international.
On the third floor is the Blaschka collection, glass models of sea life, made by a 19th-century father-and-son team, Leopold and Rudolf, from Dresden, who made accurate models of sea creatures that are too fragile to preserve.
Insect life is also well represented in the museum; Irish beetles, for instance, form their own small army.
HISTORY AND GEOGRAPHY, as well as zoology, uncover the story of the exhibits. On a Sunday afternoon, children compete with each other, naming the animals and picking their favourites. Students look more dispassionate and study the exhibits as if they are three-dimensional texts. On a weekday, the museum becomes library-like and serene.
Many of these specimens are almost a century old, and looking at them it is easy to wonder about the world they knew. Which African plain? Which European forest? Over what lands and seas did the birds fly? Although the specimens remain in the same place, there is no flurry of wings, no growling, no stretching or feeding - yet the Natural History Museum always has a new story to tell as its silent residents form an eloquent chorus.
• The Natural History Museum, Merrion Square, Dublin, is open Tues-Sun. Admission is free. Tel: 01-6777444 or see www.museum.ie.