Odd Old News: The Bug Catcher Lady

Woman with butterfly net

[Image from a story about Mary Yoemans in the San Francisco Call September 25, 1898 page 20 ]

Nuggets of old news served up once a week by David Heller, one of our local historians.

This week’s Odd Old News herstory topic is a young woman who was likely one of Humboldt county’s first lepidopterists, and certainly one of its most successful. English immigrants Mary Yoemans and her two brothers bought a ranch sight unseen somewhere in the mountains of Humboldt around 1870, and began the hard work of surviving and working a homestead to pay off the land. Mary’s knowledge of bugs and beetles and butterflies served the family well when her capture of some yellow butterflies set in motion a business of selling specimens to European markets and later, American schools. In an era when many homesteaders struggled to survive by raising sheep, Mary Yoemans raised beetles and collected butterflies to survive.

Mary Yoemans [Image from the Wide World Magazine volume 7 page 171]

Mary Yoemans [Image from the Wide World Magazine volume 7 page 171]

Her brothers may have teased her with the nick-name “bug catcher lady”, but they undoubtedly appreciated her success, achieved with the help of a Native boy, and guided by European professors.

BUTTERFLIES AND BEETLES
That Paid for a Farm.
San Francisco Call
September 25, 1898

Miss Mary Yoemans of Humboldt County Found That It Paid Better to Raise Butterflies and Beetles Than to Raise Stock

Would any one believe that a fortune could be made by collecting butterflies and beetles? Away up in the mountains in Humboldt County lives Miss Mary Yoemans with her three brothers. She owns a ranch well stocked and bringing in a large income, and all of it was paid for by butterflies and beetles.

It is now nearly thirty years since a gentleman died in England, leaving four children. They had been reared in luxury and highly educated, but at their father’s death they found themselves possessed only of a few hundred pounds. They decided to come to America, as in their own country there seemed no opportunity for them to advance or even gain a livelihood.

One of the younger brothers knew something about botany and bulbs, while Miss Yoemans, the daughter, knew a good deal about bugs and beetles and butterflies, and so the four young folks set to work.

“Humboldt County is one of the richest countries in the world for collecting beetles,” says Dr. Puchsii of the San Francisco Academy of Science, and this must be so, for the beetles and butterflies paid better than sheep or any other stock.

It is a modest home where the Yoemans live, but there is the air of refinement and culture about it which only much study and well used books I can give. Books and pictures, a great fireplace and a grand piano (I wondered how it ever came there, ninety miles from anywhere), and a gentle old lady, with white hair and a soft voice, help to form their living room.

“It is such a pleasure to me to talk about my ‘bugs,’ as my brothers call them,” and Miss Yeomans told me more about butterflies than I can ever write down. The beetle is a symbol of the resurrection, and is found in all Egyptian tombs. Every one knows how often the butterfly is used to symbolize the resur-rection.

Miss Yeomans possesses boxes and boxes of beetles, which she has gathered, but which she intends to keep for her own private collection. More beautiful than jewels they reflected the sunlight in a thousand colors as she shook them about. I asked her to tell me how she had collected them, and she said.

“When we first came out here we were very lonely away up here in the mountains, but we had to make our farming venture a success, for we had to live you see.

“I had collected butterflies in England, and know the rare ones. One day I was out on those mountains back that way,” pointing to some high hills on the horizon.

“My brothers were laying out a new road which had to be surveyed. I was afraid to stay at home alone, and as they had to be away for four or five days at a time we all went up there together and camped. I was on the lookout for butterflies and had my net. That day I had my first real success. I saw a whole flock of butterflies, yellow, large, with white tracings on the wings, and I caught the whole flock of twenty-three.

“Such a chase as I had: I could run well, fortunately, or I would have lost them for after I had caught one the flock flew straight down over a chemisal covered mountain. I ran around the brush and reached a ravine, only to see the flock wheel and fly back to the top of the hill again, where there were quantities of yellow flowers. I might have known they would come back to the yellow flowers, but I quite lost my head.

“At dark I had fourteen butterflies. The boys helped me to pin them on my setting braid as we sat around the campfire. “I knew that the rest of the flock could be caught in the morning, and I was out before the sun was up, for that is the easiest time to catch butterflies, for they are sluggish then and stick to the damp foliage.

“Yes, I caught the rest to pin down. Money was rather scarce with us then and I was saving my postage, which meant a good bit of a sum, so, as a safeguard, I sketched my butterfly in water color and sent the sketch home to England.

“Such a long wait as I had and fancy my delight when word came to send my entire flock to London.

“You’ll never guess what they offered me for them, even when I tell you they were rare specimens? Twenty-five dollars each. As there were twenty-three you see I had the tidy little sum of $575, which I promptly invested in three very fine sheep.

“Well, that was the beginning. After that I worked in real earnest. You see California is very rich in new species both of butterflies and beetles.”

Then Miss Yoemans showed me a catalogue of a firm in Paris which deals only in butterflies, and every butterfly or beetle has its marked value; some of them ranging as high as $100.

In Europe many people in private life, who have plenty of money and nothing to do, make these collections and pay great prices for rare or beautiful specimens, so that it is a regular business to handle butterflies and beetles. There are at least three large firms in London and Paris with several hundred thousand dollars capital invested.

“Americans,” continued Miss Yoemans, “use these specimens in their museums, and every college has its specimens for the students. They are my customers.”

Miss Yoemans’ cellar is not intended for vegetable or eatables, but for the rearing of beetles. In one corner is a box filled with what looked like sticks of wood for the kitchen stove.

“This is my nursery and these my babies,” she explained. “May be l am their Bluebeard, though, for I make out of this box the series of the life of a beetle from the time it is in the egg to maturity.” Then she took up one stick and showed it to me. It was split down the middle, but the two halves were held together by a rubber band. In a hole between the two sticks she had put a beetle to eat its way through the wood. When it works its way out she will put it back again and so prevent its running away. These beetles are worth $3 each. She receives $15 for “the entire “synopsis,” which consists of a male and female adult, eggs, larva, pupa, in different stages, showing the entire metamorphosis. The beetle on that particular stick was one which was supposed to grow only in Italy.

“One day a stranger and his son came to our house,” said Miss Yoemans. “He was a Frenchman and asked permission to stay a few days while he collected butterflies in the vicinity.

“I was surprised, of course, but said at once we would be glad to have them stop with us. I did not tell him though, that I was collecting. The stranger came home one morning. He had spent the night going about the flowers in the garden with a candle, and was perfectly jubilant. “I have found one so great beauty, he said in ecstasy. “For so many years I have hunted, hunted, hunted! Now I have him!”

“Why, I know that species. I have seen it before.’ I exclaimed.

“You, you know some things?”

I bowed low and whispered to him I had carefully kept the secret from every one that I was an idiot.

“Ah, madam”, he went on deprecatingly, “you will pardon an old man who is too enthusiastic. To me they are so wonderful, these jewels which people look at but do not see. And you, madam, can it be that to you, too, is known this so great marvels?”

“That stranger was Dr. Le Fontani of Paris, and such a delightful man! He taught me many things, and this beetle was the ‘beauty’ he found in the garden.

“Wherever you find one its mate is sure to be not far away, and he and I hunted together and found it. They were the ancestors of these in this box and my box has never been empty since then.” I was curious to see what manner of “beauty” it was.

Miss Yeomans laughed and said: “You had better not.”

“Why?”

“You are doomed to disappointment if you do,” and poking about in the sawdust she raked out a dead beetle and put it into my hand.

There it lay, to me a slender, black, long-legged bug half an inch long, for I am not one who, as the doctor put it, “know some things.”

This doctor was a famous French scholar and was traveling in this country with his son. The latter, according to the farmers around Miss Yeomans’ ranch, was also “a bug catcher.” He carried back to France many entirely new species. The boy made enough out of the collection he made to pay all his share of the expenses of the trip across the ocean and across a continent. Dr. Le Fontani planned the trip to California because he was sure valuable specimens could be found out here. He could find no native Californians to make collections and he had never heard of Miss Yoemans, and he came out himself. Through his influence Miss Yoemans found better markets for her specimens and he himself was able to make more extended researches.

Miss Yoemans likewise can find no one to help her in collecting except a small Indian boy.

Four or five years ago a small, brown, barefoot boy emptied his pockets on her kitchen table. He had caught some rare butterflies which he called his flying flowers. His mother had washed for the Yoemans, bringing her boy with her. He had seen Miss Yoemans’ cabinets full of butterflies, as boys will see things you never give them credit for. In running about the hills he watched the bugs and had learned a good deal of their habits. Whenever he found butterflies he had never seen before he caught them and brought them to Miss Yoemans.

“I could have cried when I saw those crumpled remains, for they were nothing else,” she said. “They happened to be a very rare kind and the custodian of the Smithsonian Institution had asked me to try to find the very species. I told Joe I would give him a dollar if he would bring me some more. He could not find any, but brought me instead a big beetle. It was not one I recognized, for, you see, I know a great many beetles and can tell at a glance what they are. I killed it with ether and made a careful drawing of it and sent it to the custodian of the Academy of Sciences in Philadelphia, with a description of the place it had been found. I told him I had sent the same drawing and description to Washington. It is just as well to sell in an open market, you know.

In a few days I was surprised to see our next neighbor ride into our ranch in a great hurry and give my brother a telegram. The neighbors were sure some one was dead, so my brother opened the telegram with a very serious face. As for me, I was near fainting, for telegrams are almost unknown in this corner of Humboldt County.

“Mary, he wants a bug,’ said brother at last.

“Who wants a bug?”

“This wise man of Philadelphia.”

“He was afraid the other man might get the beetle whose picture I had telegraphed, and asked me to sell it to him at my own price.”

“And what was your price?” I asked.

“Fifteen dollars, and it was the most valuable beetle I ever sold.”

I went with Joe to the place where he had found it. If there is one there are sure to be more, if you know where to look for them.

“When the reply came from the man at Washington offering me $10 I sent him one. I sold four others — one for $3, one for $5 and one for $6— and now I can get only $1 each for them, because they are no longer rare. The species was supposed to live only in the Alps, and was very scarce.”

Miss Yoemans goes through the redwoods every year to collect her specimens. Spreading a white sheet on the ground, she gathers up the refuse under the trees and scatters it on the sheet. When something moves she looks to see what it is, and if it proves to be a good specimen she places over it a wide-mouthed bottle having a sponge dipped in a solution of cyanide of potassium, which kills the insect instantly. This last year has been very bad for insects, for they demand moisture, and there has been so little rain.

Earlier Odd and Old News:

There are many, but here are the most recent:

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17 Comments
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Greg
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Greg
3 years ago

Thank you for sharing this story
Well written and interesting

Yeah,sure
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Yeah,sure
3 years ago

I wonder where the ranch was.

David Heller
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David Heller
3 years ago
Reply to  Yeah,sure

Good question, without access to Ms. Fountain’s go to 100 plus volumes of Humboldt History at the libraries… my inquiry to the Humboldt Historical folks found an English Yoemans male to have died in the Korbel region in the 1930’s, but the date of birth conflicted with the information that the parents had died prior to the family coming over. Perhaps a nephew who came over later? If you click on the image for Ms. Yoemans, the link is to a google reader page with a longer article about her endeavors, with photos of the ranch, but no more location info… that I saw.

Jeffersonian
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Jeffersonian
3 years ago
Reply to  David Heller

Hi David, I have some info possibly of historical significance if you’re interested. Let me know if there’s a way I can contact you and send info on social media or something.

David Heller
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David Heller
3 years ago
Reply to  Jeffersonian

Thanks Jeffersonian, I believe Kym will forward along an email to me if you contact her through her contact# at the top right of her site… I will contact her about how to put my email up directly, in a protected way, so as not to trouble her in the future.

Yeah,sure
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Yeah,sure
3 years ago
Reply to  David Heller

Ah, so the answer is out there, you just can’t access now

QuetzalBancon
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QuetzalBancon
3 years ago

I wonder if she ever caught a lotis blue…

b.
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b.
3 years ago
Reply to  QuetzalBancon

I wonder if many of the insects she caught are now extinct. Not caused by her directly, but by a mindset that kills what it “loves”.

David Heller
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David Heller
3 years ago
Reply to  b.

According to numerous articles that I read for this post, the European butterfly collecting mania undoubtedly contributed to the demise of some species. In our era, the destruction of habitat would probably be the biggest driver of species extinction. As one article stated, if you want to have good butterfly specimens, raise caterpillars, and let the children see the progression of its stages of growth. Gassing and pinning one of these ‘frail children of the air’ isn’t my cup of tea.
Because of the response-to-Covid crisis, this year the Humboldt Botanical Gardens didn’t open their butterfly reserve, hopefully next year. I have fond memories of going to the San Diego zoo butterfly area.

b.
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b.
3 years ago
Reply to  David Heller

I have sad (though simultaneously fond) memories of traipsing the meadows, hardwood forests, and swamps of the Ohio hill country with my brother. I would help spot and periodically “herd” butterflies and moths toward his net, then be an extra pair of hands for coaxing beautiful butterflies into the killing jar. I could barely look at their carcasses in the beautiful display cases of multicolored butterflies.

Jeffersonian
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Jeffersonian
3 years ago

What a bad ass. Great story.

CanYouSmellThat?
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CanYouSmellThat?
3 years ago

I wonder if this was one of her beetles..

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buprestis_aurulenta

Ben
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Ben
3 years ago

These Buprestids are attracted to fresh fir sawdust and often show up at building sites.. Remarkably beautiful with metallic bodies..

David Heller
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David Heller
3 years ago

The Humboldt Times had an article about the most popular feature at the Zoological Garden in London, with this description of feeding time in the butterfly cage: “Every hour when the sun shines Miss Chessman, Curatrix of the Insects, enters the spacious butterfly cage at the zoo and regales her charges, peacocks, tortoise-shells, brimstones, green veined whites, and other butterflies galore on diluted honey.
On entering the cage with the mixture, Miss Chessman is mobbed by the hovering throngs–like a donor of cakes and sweets at a picnic of school children–the gaily hued insects settling all over her and assembling as a group at the honey can.
The scene at such a time suggests an animated kaleidescope of some fairy spectacle.”(HT, 9/10/22).

Ernie Branscomb
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Ernie Branscomb
3 years ago

Laytonville has an abundance of milkweed, which is the food of the Monarch Butterfly. Most everyone in my family has raised butterflies. we don’t know how far back that we raised butterflies, but everybody remembers raising Monarchs when they were kids. Mid-summer when the milkweed is fully grown and blooming, the Monarch lays her eggs on the plant. When the eggs hatch, little tiny smooth skinned, colorfully banded caterpillars start eating the leaves of the plant.

They then rapidly grow until they are – what we called -“ripe”. At that point they attach themselves to a leaf or a stem and wiggle out of their skins. What is left is a beautiful lime green smooth skinned chrysalis. A few days later a butterfly splits the skin open and hangs on the husk of the chrysalis. It slowly pumps it’s wings full of liquid that hardens into the beautiful wings of the monarch.

After they hatch, they go around sucking up nectar, then head for the mountains of Mexico where they spend the winter.

It is a great project for kids in the summer while school is out. I taught my wife and daughter how to raise butterflies. They had so much fun that they did it most every summer. My wife became known as “Momma Butterfly”. (Don’t tell her I told on her)

For sure
Guest
For sure
3 years ago

August, full moon, brings large lunar moths…

John Pavon
Guest
3 years ago

Great story, this is coming from The Ladybug guy!