Chalk talk

Chalk talk

Fossilized crinoid in chalk • Photo by James St. John (CC BY 2.0)

Originally published 11 July 1988

In the sum­mer of 1868, the British Asso­ci­a­tion for the Advance­ment of Sci­ence held its annu­al meet­ing in the town of Nor­wich, 90 miles north­east of Lon­don. At that meet­ing, Thomas Hen­ry Hux­ley, one of the great­est nat­ur­al his­to­ri­ans of his day and a cham­pi­on of Dar­win’s new the­o­ry of evo­lu­tion, deliv­ered a talk enti­tled On a Piece of Chalk. His audi­ence was the ordi­nary work­ing­men of the town.

Hux­ley’s sub­ject was engag­ing­ly sim­ple — and famil­iar. Some of the car­pen­ters in the audi­ence may have car­ried a piece of Nor­wich chalk in their pock­ets. The town is built upon chalk, the same exten­sive beds of soft, white rock that give Eng­land its poet­ic name — Albion.

From a piece of Nor­wich chalk Hux­ley extract­ed a most aston­ish­ing sto­ry, of a vast salt­wa­ter sea that once lay upon Britain, and of the micro­scop­ic crea­tures that lived in the sea in prodi­gious num­bers. In their dying, these tiny ani­mals con­tributed their cal­care­ous skele­tons to bot­tom sed­i­ments that were ulti­mate­ly com­pact­ed into chalk. The skele­tons, of a won­der­ful geo­met­ric com­plex­i­ty, are often beau­ti­ful­ly preserved.

Eleven years before, the British Admi­ral­ty had com­mis­sioned Hux­ley’s friend, a cer­tain Cap­tain Day­man, to sound the floor of the Atlantic Ocean along the route of the pro­posed Atlantic tele­graph cable. Day­man sailed from Valen­tia, Ire­land, to Trin­i­ty Bay in New­found­land, mea­sur­ing the depth of the sea and retriev­ing sam­ples of mud from the ocean bot­tom. These spec­i­mens of deep-sea sed­i­ments were sub­mit­ted to Hux­ley for examination.

Reasonable assumptions

Hux­ley assured his Nor­wich audi­ence that the sed­i­ments brought up from the floor of the present ocean con­tain exact­ly the same sorts of micro­scop­ic organ­isms that are pre­served in the Nor­wich chalk. Where you see the same effect, he said, it is rea­son­able to assume the same cause. If the fos­sils in the Nor­wich chalk resem­ble in every respect the crea­tures found in the mud­dy depths of present ocean — and nowhere else in the world — then it is rea­son­able to assume that the chalk was once deep-sea bot­tom sediments.

The chalk beds at Nor­wich are hun­dreds of feet thick. I think you will agree,” Hux­ley told his audi­ence, “that it must have tak­en some time for the skele­tons of ani­mal­cules of a hun­dredth of an inch in diam­e­ter to heap up such a mass as that.”

How long? Embed­ded with­in the chalk are the fos­sils of high­er ani­mals — corals, bra­chiopods, sea urchins, and starfish­es, alto­geth­er more than 3,000 dis­tinct species of aquat­ic ani­mals — ani­mals that are today found only in the salt sea. Among these fos­sils there are some curi­ous com­bi­na­tions — for exam­ple, a coral-cov­ered shell­fish affixed to a sea urchin. Here was a hint to the age of the chalk sea, and Hux­ley unrav­eled the story.

The sea urchin lived from youth to age on the floor of the sea, then died and lost its spines, which were car­ried away. The shell­fish adhered to the bared shell, and grew and per­ished in its turn. Final­ly, coral-build­ing organ­isms cov­ered both shell­fish and urchin, lived out their lives and expired. And all of this unfold­ed before slow­ly accu­mu­lat­ing sed­i­ments encased these crea­tures in an inch or two of chalky mud. It was easy for Hux­ley to deduce that a min­i­mum of tens of thou­sands of years were required for the depo­si­tion of chalk beds hun­dreds of feet thick.

Giddy transformations

But Hux­ley’s sto­ry of the great depths of time was not yet com­plete. Where the Riv­er Yare flows through Nor­wich it cuts down through sandy clays to expose the chalk. Since the clays lie above the chalk they must have been deposit­ed at a lat­er time. Between the clay and the chalk there is a lay­er of veg­e­ta­tive mat­ter, includ­ing the fos­silized stumps of trees stand­ing as they grew — fir trees with their cones and hazel bush­es with their nuts. Clear­ly the chalk must have been uplift­ed from the floor of the sea before forests could grow on it.

And a greater sur­prise! Among the bolls of the trees are the fos­silized bones of ele­phants, rhi­noc­er­os­es, hip­popota­mus­es, and oth­er wild beasts that roamed the ancient for­est. And above the for­est beds, inter­spersed with­in clay of a marine ori­gin, are the fos­sils of wal­rus­es and oth­er cold-water sea crea­tures now found only in the icy waters of the north.

Sea, land, sea, and land again. Spec­tac­u­lar changes in cli­mate. What forces caused such gid­dy trans­for­ma­tions? Hux­ley did not know and read­i­ly con­fessed his igno­rance. But he knew that the evi­dence of the Nor­wich rocks “com­pels you to believe that the earth, from the time of the chalk to the present day, has been the the­ater of a series of changes as vast in their amount as they were slow in their progress.”

How aston­ished must have been the mem­bers of the Work­ing­men’s Asso­ci­a­tion of Nor­wich to hear of this dra­mat­ic exten­sion of the his­to­ry of their town.

Hux­ley’s lec­ture On a Piece of Chalk has come down to us as a lit­tle clas­sic of sci­en­tif­ic expo­si­tion, as engag­ing and infor­ma­tive today as in 1868. It was deliv­ered only a few years after the intro­duc­tion of Dar­win’s the­o­ry, at a time when the evo­lu­tion­ary inter­pre­ta­tion of the Earth­’s past was high­ly con­tro­ver­sial. Hux­ley did not talk down to his audi­ence. Nor did he grind any the­o­log­i­cal axes. He sim­ply direct­ed the atten­tion of his audi­ence to the rocks, and let the rocks speak for themselves.

From his piece of chalk Hux­ley extract­ed an epic tale of evo­lu­tion that any teacher who has ever held a piece of chalk might envy.

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