The Butterflies and Moths of Teneriffe

In Short

Written to provide visitors with a meaningful outdoor occupation, this work serves as an authoritative field guide to the butterflies and moths of Tenerife. It blends systematic entomological classification with travel-inspired advice on collecting, breeding, and preserving specimens. By documenting the island's unique biodiversity through both prose descriptions and original illustrations, the book bridges the gap between scientific catalogue and colonial-era leisure manual, remaining a testament to the enduring human desire to categorize the natural world while seeking solace in its beauty.

The Story

The narrative begins not in a laboratory, but in the mild climate of an island winter. The author, having arrived in Tenerife in 1892, observes that her fellow travelers lack purposeful activity, often relegated to aimless riding expeditions. Recognizing that the island lacks a comprehensive guide to its native insects, she sets out to fill this void. The arc of the book follows a seasonal rhythm, moving from the initial preparation of equipment—such as fashioning nets from wire and walking sticks—to the challenging, rocky terrain of the barrancos, or dry riverbeds.

The book acts as a formal exploration of the island’s varied habitats. It tracks the migration and behavior of species from the coast to the high pine forests, noting how the environment dictates the lives of the insects. The reader is guided through the life cycles of butterflies and moths, from the microscopic egg to the voracious caterpillar and the final, fragile pupa. Along the way, the author offers a stern, ethical caution: collectors must resist the urge to buy mangled specimens from local boys, which only encourages the destruction of rare species. Instead, the author advocates for the patient, personal study of insects in their natural settings.

As the text progresses, it deepens into a taxonomic survey, contrasting the familiar English species—like the Painted Lady or Clouded Yellow—with those peculiar to the Canary Islands, such as the creamy-white Pieris cheiranthi. The tone remains consistently practical, detailing the nuances of killing and setting specimens with cyanide or gentle, steady pressure. Toward the conclusion, the focus shifts to the broader distribution of these creatures across the archipelago, noting how arid conditions in neighboring islands like Lanzarote limit the variety of life compared to the lush slopes of Tenerife. The book ends by providing a comprehensive index and a technical appendix, cementing its role as a reference work that documents the island’s natural heritage at a specific moment in time.

How It Unfolds

The necessity of purpose The author identifies a profound lack of intellectual engagement among winter residents. She argues that the study of entomology offers a curative, health-giving pursuit for those in exile.

Crafting the tools of discovery Readers are given DIY instructions for navigating the island’s rough geography. From utilizing local tin-smiths to constructing nets, the author emphasizes self-reliance and the importance of using mules to traverse the punishing, rocky terrain.

The cycle of life The middle chapters shift focus to the biological realities of the Lepidoptera. The author provides a detailed look at the feeding habits of caterpillars, the specific requirements of breeding-cages, and the importance of ventilation and fresh food.

A survey of species The book transitions into a systematic list of butterflies and moths. Each entry describes the insect’s physical appearance, its favored habitat, and its seasonal emergence, often highlighting differences between male and female forms.

Ethical collecting Interspersed with technical data, the author issues a firm plea for conservation. She discourages the commercialization of the hunt, urging naturalists to prioritize the beauty of the living creature over the acquisition of a dead trophy.

Distributions and variations The final sections broaden the scope to the wider Canary archipelago. The author speculates on how climate and vegetation influence the presence of species across different islands, concluding with technical appendices that clarify regional variations.

The People

The book is framed by the perspective of its observant, methodical author, who acts as a mentor to the "novice" naturalist. She is driven by a belief that nature should be studied with patience and precision. She is not a distant scientist but a companionable guide who values the intellectual health of her peers as much as the accuracy of her classification.

Opposing her are the "muchachos"—the local Spanish boys—who represent a threat to the preservation of the insects. To the boys, the butterflies are merely commodities to be sold for a few quartos, a practice the author views with clear disapproval. She does not villainize them, but she treats their indiscriminate methods as an obstacle to true scientific appreciation, repeatedly urging the reader to reject their "mutilated" offerings.

Finally, the figures mentioned in the appendices, such as the chemist Don Ramon Gomez and the various naturalists who contribute their observations, highlight the collaborative, scholarly community of the time. These figures represent the intellectual network that sustained the author’s work, turning an individual interest in the island's wildlife into a shared, recorded body of knowledge.

In Its Own Voice

"Those, for whom fresh air and a certain amount of exercise are essential, can hardly find any more health-giving or light interesting occupation than the practical study of Entomology."

The author opens her preface by positioning the collection of insects as an ideal, restorative activity for the expatriate traveler.

"The 'muchachos' (Spanish boys) are all too eager to supply any collector with specimens for a few 'quartos,' and bring many poor mutilated insects in the hope of finding a purchaser."

She describes the tension between her own scientific, conservationist approach and the local commercial exploitation of the islands' butterfly populations.

"True votaries of 'sweetness and light,' the moths alight on the sticky mixture, and, becoming stupefied with the beer and rum, as a rule fall to the ground, where they can easily be caught or netted."

The author provides a whimsical, slightly tongue-in-cheek description of the "sugaring" method used to attract moths at night.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an argument for the intellectual enrichment of leisure. It challenges the reader to move beyond the passive consumption of a landscape and instead engage with it through the rigorous, patient lens of the scientist. Beyond the biology, there is a recurring theme of stewardship; the author treats the islands' Lepidoptera as a delicate, precious resource that must be documented with care rather than exploited. It poses the question of how an outsider might meaningfully interact with a foreign ecology, suggesting that true understanding comes only from direct, respectful observation and the quiet, disciplined labor of the collector.

Why Read It Today

Readers who find joy in the intersection of travelogue and natural history will appreciate the warmth of the author’s voice. It offers a meditative, slow-paced reading experience, capturing the essence of a late-Victorian excursion to the Canary Islands. The book’s value lies in its specificity—it is a snapshot of an ecosystem as it was observed over a century ago, providing a rich, detailed record that remains useful to those interested in the history of entomology or the island of Tenerife itself.

However, modern readers should be prepared for the period-specific attitudes of the author, particularly regarding the colonial context and the casual way she discusses killing and pinning creatures for display. The prose is functional and descriptive rather than literary, and the technical sections can be dry, reflecting the utilitarian purpose of a field guide. Nevertheless, there is an undeniable, quiet charm in her descriptions of the "barrancos" and the persistent, restless motion of the hummingbird hawk-moth. Reading this book today offers the rare pleasure of looking at a familiar landscape through the eyes of someone who found beauty and discovery in the simplest of things, provided one can reconcile the era's practices with our contemporary understanding of conservation.