Although we saw few adult moths, the traces
their larvae left behind were everywhere if you
knew how to search properly, and patiently
Maitland showed me the signs. Katie,
meanwhile, set off on occasional forays and
would return sometime later, usually bearing
items of interest: a leaf or stalk or seed case
with evidence of feeding. This is sometimes
no more than a faint brown stain on a leaf or a
minuscule case attached to a bud in which the
larva lives. All it takes to identify which
species is responsible is a sharp eye backed
with years of experience. By now I was
thoroughly warming to this couple, especially
the good-natured banter between them, but my
mind was struggling to cope with the constant
flow of information coming my way.
In 1927, at the age of 19, Emmet became an
Oxford undergraduate and was studying
classical courses, Philosophy and Ancient
History, which left little time for nature
studies. Because of his prowess as an oarsman
(he rowed for a short time in the 'Blue Boat'
during practice for the Boat Race), he was
encouraged to stay on and extend his
education, taking Geography, a subject in
which he came top.
By 1932, now aged 24, he was teaching
the classics at St. Edwards School, Oxford.
Knowing of his interest in natural history the
headmaster revealed the former existence of a
field club at the school and asked if Emmet
would be prepared to restart it, to which he
agreed. Taking boys out on field trips and
identifying their catches rekindled an interest
in Lepidoptera and by 1936 he was an avid
collector.
War approached and brought with it
Service: Captain in the Oxford and
Buckinghamshire Light Infantry. His battalion
was stationed on the Isle of Wight, site of two
infamous incidences. Retorning from a week's
leave one autumn, Emmet was ordered to see
his commanding officer but, on the way to the
command centre, noticed on the surrounding
wooden fencing a Clifden nonpariel. This is a
large and showy migrant which most
lepidopterists would sell their souls to find.
Eimnet, ignoring orders, rushed off to get the
largest box in his possession for its capture
15
and, after briefly losing the insect, was
successful. With disarming honesty he gave
the reason for his lateness to the CO and was,
perhaps surprisingly, granted extra leave so
that he could return home and set this exotic
specimen. (This and the comma above are still
in his collection.)
The second incident occurred when his
company was ordered to move to the Sandown
sector in the eastern part of the island, but
Captain Emmet argued instead for the western
end of the south-eastern sector, the west end
of the Undercliff at Niton, and was again
successful. The reason for this, explained at
the time, was so that he could be near the site
of a butterfly found in Britain only at this
locality, the Glanville fritillary. Both stories
demonstrate a determination and dedication,
not to say flair, which are Iris hallmarks where
the study of butterflies and moths are
concerned.
Eventually we wandered from the car park to
the ponds and the lush vegetation they
support. It wasn't just smaller moths I learned
about. Maitland pointed to a shallow
depression in the bark of a sallow, the
weathered remnant of a sallow kitten cocoon -
something I would have missed. Holes
towards the base of a black poplar were
caused by a colony of hornet Clearwings
"...and there's the moth itself, above your
head." I glanced up and saw a freshly emerged
adult, a spectacular wasp-mimic which you
would never find in a light trap. By now my
brain was beginning to hurl and my specimen
tubes were full of leaves, cocoons and scraps
of paper bearing all-important notes. With the
sun hot on our backs we paused for a drink,
surrounded by the scents and sounds of
summer.
In 1942 Emmet was posted to Burma with the
25th Indian Division and was a staff officer in
the Divisional Headquarters. Despite the
dangers of the situation a myriad of butterflies
and birds soon caught his attention and.
protected by Indian soldiers bearing rifles, he
sel forth armed with a butterfly net into the
surrounding jungle.
Essex Naturalist (New Series) 16 (1999)