CHAPTER XII

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH BY THE EDITOR (_continued_)

As a public lecturer Miss Ormerod achieved a high measure of success. The first effort in this capacity was made at the Royal Agricultural College, Cirencester, where as “Special Lecturer on Economic Entomology,” she delivered six interesting and valuable addresses to audiences of about 120 students and professors on: (1) Injurious Insects; (2) Turnip Fly; (3) Effects of Weather on Insects; (4) Wireworm; (5) Insect Prevention; (6) Œstridæ—Warble or Bot Flies. The first was given in October, 1881, and the last in June, 1884. On the first occasion Lord Bathurst, one of the Governors of the College, was present, and Miss Ormerod was placed between Principal McClellan on the one hand and Professor Harker (biology) on the other, as her sister Georgiana humorously remarked afterwards, “for fear her courage should fail and she run away.” Her anxieties in the new capacity knew no bounds.

Although extremely nervous and anxious she succeeded in concealing this from an attentive and appreciative audience, and made an excellent appearance.[40] She declared that while walking from the drawing-room to the large lecture theatre at the opposite corner of the college quadrangle she could not utter a word, and on this, as on other somewhat similar exciting occasions, she experienced a drumming in her head which she failed to moderate by any attempted remedial measures. After about three years’ experience as a supernumerary member of the college staff, it was found that the preliminary preparation of the lectures was robbing her steadily increasing general work of time which was inconveniently spared, and, although it was considered an honour to be invited to give special lectures, she felt it to be a duty to her main work to retire.

During this period one lecture was delivered before the “Institute of Agriculture,” at South Kensington, in April, 1883, in the Lords of Council lecture hall, where as usual she was in a state of trepidation as to what might happen. The audience numbered about five hundred—two hundred and fifty of whom were Government students. The subject was “Insect Injuries to Farm Crops, and their Prevention.” A number of minor incidents were nevertheless disturbing. To begin with, the driver who had been engaged to take the lecturer first to South Kensington and again in the evening to Isleworth, started on the wrong journey first, but the mistake was discovered before he had gone very far astray. Then a chairman had failed to appear and another had to be anxiously watched for at the door. A most suitable person was at last found in the President of the Entomological Society. All went well for a time until Miss Ormerod’s sight on the left side wholly failed. Being subject to attacks of migraine from overwork, she thought one of these had come on, but on moving a little to the right she discovered that a brilliant light had been arranged to fall on the diagrams, and that to her great discomfort she had got into the line of it.

A rather amusing incident occurred as the last distraction. The object was to place the elements of Entomology before the students in the simplest form possible, but a few definitions were first necessary. They were told to realise in the words of Professor Westwood that insects were “Annulose animals, breathing by tracheæ, having the head distinct and provided in the adult stage with six articulated legs, and antennæ, subject also to a series of moultings previously to attaining perfection, whereby wings are ordinarily developed!”

The audience burst out cheering, thinking, as Professor Tanner[41] explained afterwards, that the scientific terms were being used as a joke.

Apropos of this experience she wrote on October 14, 1890, to Mr. Robert Newstead, “If I could find time I would like to form an instructive book, on the plan of which I enclose a few lines—so as to proceed gradually from a foundation well known to the pupils—thus:—

“_Q._ What is an insect? _A._ A fly is an insect, so is a moth or a butterfly, or a wasp, or a grasshopper, or a cricket.

“_Q._ Is a spider an insect? _A._ No.

“_Q._ Why not? _A._ Because it has eight legs, and never has any wings. Insects in their perfect state have six legs, and usually either one or two pairs of wings.

“_Q._ Why do you say in their perfect state? And so on.

“I believe that it is an absolute mistake to begin with a definition of an insect such as is usually given—half the words of which are utterly without meaning to the student.”

* * * * *

Under strong pressure at a later date, Miss Ormerod delivered in the same hall a course of ten lectures in five consecutive days, on the “Orders of Insects,” and these were reproduced in full in her “Guide to the Methods of Insect Life.”

The organisation was defective, and very small audiences assembled. Professor Axe and others who gave special lectures in the same course had the same experience. Only £10 was paid to Miss Ormerod for her share of the work, a sum which did not cover outlays, and apart from the annoyance of the bungling the fatigue was great.

About this course, Professor Huxley wrote on November 11, 1883:—

“Dear Miss Ormerod,—I am very glad to welcome you as a colleague—and I wish I could come and hear your lectures, being particularly ignorant of the branch of Entomology you have made your own. I shall be very glad if any of my students can find time to profit by your teaching—but I suspect that their hands are pretty full. We shall be very glad to have your sister’s work and thank her for the trouble she has taken.—Ever yours very truly,” &c.

When a copy of the book reached him in the following January he again wrote:—“Many thanks for your ‘Guide to Insect Life.’ I know enough of your portion of work to be sure that it will be clear, accurate, and useful, and I hope that the public will show a due appreciation of it. With best wishes, &c.

“T. H. HUXLEY.”

Sir Joseph Hooker also wrote as follows:—

ROYAL GARDENS, KEW, _January 11, 1884_.

DEAR MISS ORMEROD,—Pray accept my best thanks for the copy of your “Guide to Methods of Insect Life.” I have read the first 50 pages at intervals of my work with great pleasure and interest. I was an Entomologist before I took to Botany, as was my father before me, and I do enjoy in my old age the account you give of the forgotten habits of the friends of my early youth. I think it is capitally well done and suited to its purpose, and I shall hope to interest my children with it in the holidays. With united sincere regards to you both, most truly yours,

JOS. D. HOOKER.

In March, 1882, a paper on “Injurious Insects” was read at a meeting of the Richmond Athenæum. The hall was so crammed that the Council were crushed up on the platform. “At the close of the lecture” (Lady Hooker writes) “Miss Lydia Becker, at that time a vigorous upholder of ‘Woman’s Rights,’ rose to speak, and while praising Miss Ormerod’s able lecture, instanced her work as ‘being a proof of how much a woman could do without the help of man.’ Miss Ormerod, in her reply, thanked Miss Becker, but begged to say that she had no right to the praise accorded to her on the ground of her work being so entirely that of a lone woman, for, she said, ‘No one owes more to the help of man than myself. I have always met with the greatest kindness and most generous aid from my friends of the other sex, and without their constant encouragement my poor efforts would have had no practical result in being of benefit to my fellow men.’”

In the discussion which followed the lecture Sir Joseph Hooker “referred to the great benefit they had derived at Kew Gardens from Miss Ormerod’s researches, remarking that to her and her sister (Georgiana) they owed some of the best illustrations they had of insect ravages upon plants. He could not but allude also to the elegance and clearness of the language employed by Miss Ormerod in her paper as an illustration that scientific matters might be put in a clear and simple form, so that all might understand them.... In conclusion he thanked Miss Ormerod and her sister for their services to science.”

About 1888 an entomological “At Home” was given at Torrington House, St. Albans, when some sixty people assembled in the drawing-room and listened to a most interesting dissertation on the “Hessian Fly,” given by the hostess in a friendly and informal conversational manner.

The Farmers’ Club lecture in 1889 was felt by Miss Ormerod to be the most important and most gratifying of all similar public appearances. She prepared it with infinite care and, as the time fixed for its delivery approached, the state of nervous tension was great. Leading agriculturists were present, and a number of ladies came to make inquiries about all sorts of things, but probably the lecturer would have been equally well pleased had none of her own sex put in an appearance.

* * * * *

In 1882 Miss Ormerod was invited by the Lords of the Committee of Council on Education to become a member of a committee to advise in the improvement of the collections relating to Economic Entomology in the South Kensington and Bethnal Green Museums. The other members of committee were Professor Huxley, Mr. W. Thisleton Dyer, Professor J. O. Westwood, Mr. F. Orpen Bower, Professor Wrightson, and Mr. Moore—Colonel Donnelly and Sir Philip Cunliffe Owen being present officially. After serious consideration and a good deal of pressure from influential quarters, Miss Ormerod accepted the invitation and was a most useful member of committee till her withdrawal from it in April, 1886. She continued, however, to assist the supervision of the work, which went on for some time after. At the first meeting she was asked to prepare a scheme for a series of illustrations of Economic Entomology, and her suggestion of classifying injurious insects by the name of leading plant affected, and not by the Natural Orders of the creatures, was accepted. A collection of cases containing natural specimens in all stages of development, as well as accurate drawings of them, though never completed, was made, at first mainly under Professor Westwood’s direction, but later on, under Miss Ormerod’s supervision. Many of the specimens were taken from Mr. Andrew Murray’s earlier contributions.

The collection was in 1885 removed from Bethnal Green to the Western Exhibition Galleries, South Kensington Museum. The value of Miss Ormerod’s services and the esteem in which she was personally held by her associates in connection with the work of the committee, may be gathered from the subjoined letter sent to her by Professor Huxley.

_March 12, 1883._

DEAR MISS ORMEROD,—Many thanks for the trouble you have taken. Your suggestion about utilising the figures which are not specially wanted for our purpose, for schools, seems to me excellent, and I hope you will bring it forward at our next meeting.

I hope our first discussion has convinced you that we want nothing but to achieve something useful. And as I have at any rate learned how to recognise practical knowledge and common sense, when I meet with them (they are not so common as people imagine) you will find me always ready to do my best to aid in carrying out your views. You really know more about the business than all the rest of us put together.

Yours very truly, T. H. HUXLEY.

While Miss Ormerod was associated with the Bethnal Green Museum she was asked to look at the proofs of a series of insect diagrams illustrating “Gardeners’ Friends and Foes” being prepared for publication by the Science and Art Department. She found that an official of the Museum had been guilty of wholesale plagiarism, both in the coloured figures and the descriptive letterpress, and moreover that a number of figures of a popular kind had been introduced which were not drawn with scientific accuracy, that she felt conscientiously impelled to report the irregularities and deficiencies to the authorities. The results were that the diagrams were withdrawn (only a few sets having been presented for private use to certain fortunate individuals); and the removal of the official from the position of trust became a wholesome lesson to those who lightly make use without acknowledgment of the work of others.

* * * * *

At a later date she arranged the descriptive matter of a series of beautiful insect diagrams, the originals of which were drawn and coloured by her sister, Georgiana, for the Royal Agricultural Society, and referred to in the appended facsimile page of a letter addressed to the present writer, and again at p. 210 of her correspondence.

* * * * *

AN EXCELLENT SPECIMEN OF MISS ORMEROD’S CLEAR AND CHARACTERISTIC WRITING IN WHICH SHE CONDUCTED HER VOLUMINOUS CORRESPONDENCE.

To Miss Anne Hartwell, Miss Ormerod’s private secretary and confidential companion, I am indebted for many of the following incidents in the home life. The two sisters, though they were never robust, enjoyed comparatively good health, when Miss Hartwell, in May, 1888, went to reside with them, and were at all times very busy. Miss Ormerod (Georgiana) usually sat in the dining-room working at her diagrams and Miss Eleanor in the study. They generally worked all the morning, and in the afternoon they would walk out together, take a drive, or pay calls. They frequently had visitors for a few days, and nephews and nieces would come and go—which was always a pleasure to them. They were devoted to each other and spent much time together. Miss Georgiana’s death, on August 19, 1896, was a sad blow to Miss Eleanor, who missed her sister’s companionship and sympathy dreadfully. To a casual observer time seemed to heal her wounded feelings and she appeared cheerful and bright, but in reality she was never again quite the same person—they had been such lifelong friends and companions.

In a letter to the Rev. C. J. Bethune she wrote on October 12, 1896:—

“I thank you gratefully for your kind comforting letter; believe me such words as yours are a great consolation and support to me, for I do miss my dear sister exceedingly.

“For her I fully hope that she is safe, and happy, and I love to think of her as without fears or doubts serving the Lord she so humbly trusted—but we were so completely one that I scarcely feel the same person without her. It was not only our sisterly affection and colleagueship, but she had such a good judgment that I am constantly longing for her sound sense to help me. There is no use in idle grief, and I am fairly well again. I have not at all put aside work through all my sorrow, for I felt this would answer no good purpose, and now I am working on my next Annual Report and am arranging to have a good portrait of her as a frontispiece (plate XXVII.). I think she would like it, and I am sure she would have been deeply grateful for the kind respect paid by the good friends whose friendship she so exceedingly valued. I scarcely know how to write about it—there is so much I should like to say. Perhaps I had better not write more, but indeed I value your beautiful words of comfort which I have repeatedly read.”

A touchingly sympathetic notice of the death appeared in Miss Ormerod’s Annual Report for 1896.

* * * * *

Miss Ormerod rose early, breakfasted at eight o’clock, and then read the “Times.” On getting to work she made a special point of replying to inquiries first, saying it served no good purpose to keep people waiting for an answer; and, as a matter of fact, delay or hesitation found no place in any of her actions. Frequently there were specimens to examine and report upon, and probably to put aside in a place of safety to permit of maturation or further development and to undergo subsequent examination.

After the entomological work was finished—work which was a real pleasure, but proved a severe strain as the Annual Report was taking form—her personal correspondence was attended to. She wrote with great facility and with extraordinary rapidity and accuracy. She had many colonial and continental correspondents who held standing invitations to pay her visits, when in this country. Many came, and graciously she received them, and courteously and royally she entertained them with much pleasure to herself. None so honoured can ever forget the cordiality of the breezy welcome which, accompanied by her hearty and genuinely natural and friendly laugh, were merely harbingers of the intellectual treat and the other good things that were in store for them.

Among her most intimate immediate friends were Lord[42] and Lady Grimthorpe, the Bishop of St. Albans (Dr. Festing) and his sister, the Dean (Walter John Lawrence, M.A.), General and Mrs. Bigge, Colonel and Miss Cartwright, Dr. and Mrs. Norman, and Dr. Lipscomb and Miss Lipscomb. She was always pleased to see friends who called, and she was very witty and cheerful with them. It was not at all necessary that they should be scientific. One of the little group mentioned, simply and perhaps too modestly explains, “I always think that when Miss Ormerod sent for me, she descended to my level, and our conversation was generally on the most homely subjects. She would be most interested in the little events of our everyday life and thoroughly enter into our pleasures and enjoyments.”

* * * * *

The lively sense of humour which has already been mentioned as a family characteristic remained with her throughout life. The following little anecdote told by Mrs. Evans of Rowancroft, Dorking, is also illustrative of the personal coolness and power of action in times of difficulty which were conspicuous among Miss Ormerod’s attributes, and it shows also “the quietly determined manner in which she did some things.”

“My poor little story was told to me a good many years ago. My aunt was lunching with some friends, and the peace of the entertainment was suddenly disturbed by the arrival of a large and lively hornet. No one else ventured to interfere with the enemy, but Miss Ormerod waited quietly till the insect came close to her, caught it in her hand, and forthwith deposited it in one of the little chip boxes which she generally carried in her pockets. I leave you to imagine the astonishment and admiration of the other guests, and the quiet chuckle with which my aunt wound up her story with the remark, ‘Of course I knew it was a “drone,” by the length of the antennæ.’”

Miss Ormerod was not the least nervous in the sense of being afraid. When just a girl living at Sedbury she became the centre of admiration of the workmen on her father’s estate by fearlessly seizing a farmyard dog by the back of the neck and hauling him off her own dog, who had been rudely assaulted. Great was the applause of “Miss Eleanor’s sperrit.”

Another incident with a dog of a much more dangerous character is best given in her own words: “I only remember one instance of rabies. The animal attacked was one of two beautiful Clumber spaniels which had been left one day at our house with a message that the sender, a friend of my brother, desired him to select one of them, and accept it as a gift. The two pretty creatures, named Cæsar and Pompey, were introduced into our establishment, and one of them—Cæsar—became a great favourite with my father. How long it was after their arrival I do not remember, but one day Cæsar vanished, and in the course of the afternoon, although he was not one of the house dogs, he came to me as I was standing in the front hall. To my astonishment when I noticed him as usual, he gave a kind of scream, or extraordinary howl, such as I had never heard before, and I saw that the expression of his eyes was wild and distressed to an entirely unnatural degree. The strange scream made me suspect what might be wrong, and I called one of the head men. We took the dog, who was perfectly gentle, into the butler’s pantry and shut the door so that he might not escape, whilst we tried to find out what was amiss. I did not much like the business, but it happened I was the only one at home, excepting a lady relation, who, thinking “discretion the better part of valour,” mounted herself _pro tem._ out of harm’s way, on the top of a very large stone table, and awaited results in safety. I knew that offering water was a very partial test, but I had some poured out. The effect was instantaneous. The moment the poor dog heard the sound he almost flew to me, as if for protection, and tried to wrap his head in my dress so as to exclude the sound, calling out as if in great trouble. I had no right to have my father’s favourite dog destroyed on a suspicion in his temporary absence, and the dog so far was not violent; it appeared to me that the only reasonable course to adopt was to have him chained securely and led away to an empty stable, where he was fastened to a pole and the door shut. By this course no harm could happen, except in prolonging the poor creature’s sufferings. These, however, though increasingly violent, were not endured for very long. By the time my father returned, in about an hour, the dog was tearing the woodwork all around him to pieces. He was at once destroyed, the attack being pronounced, by those better versed in the matter than myself, undoubtedly a case of rabies.”

* * * * *

Miss Ormerod’s brother, Dr. E. L. Ormerod, of Brighton, author of “British Social Wasps,” testified to the courage and skill with which she assisted him in taking the hanging wasps’ nests from trees. The “Ap Adam” oak shown in plate XXI. which she climbed after a hornet’s nest by means of the library folding ladder, was one of the very ancient hollow oaks in Sedbury Park, about one-third of a mile from the house. She had a sick headache next day about which her brother John made the sympathetic (?) remark, “If young ladies will play at lamplighters they must take the consequences!” The Hedgehog oak, at the root of which in plate XXI. Miss Ormerod is seen sitting in rather an uncomfortable position, was another hollow remnant of the primeval forest. She had remarked that she thought she was sitting on a wasps’ nest when Waring, her second brother, promptly admonished her in the interests of the safety of the party to “sit tight”! The two hollow shells of what must have been at one time splendid timber trees, were historically interesting, having been boundary marks of the country referred to in the time of Edward III. Both trees have been cleared away and the ancient oak now known as that of “Ap Adam” stands only a few hundred yards from the original tree, within the moat which formerly surrounded old Badam’s Court. There are several other very ancient oaks in the park. Two on the left of the carriage drive, going in the direction of the mansion house, were christened “Darby and Joan” by Miss Ormerod.

On one occasion the eldest sister, Mary, had the misfortune to run a crochet hook through her hand. The mother fainted away. Miss G. S. Ormerod, who supplied this information, concludes, “My Aunt Eleanor fetched her forceps, nipped off the hook and drew out the stem without waiting for the doctor’s arrival, showing not only her courage but her presence of mind.” The same authority goes on to say:—

“She was very fond of children and young people. When staying at Sedbury, we always enjoyed our walks with her. She made everything interesting. She taught me a great deal about insects, helped me to begin a collection of butterflies, &c., showing me how to destroy them mercifully and how to set them out properly. I remember stuffing a splendid dragon-fly under her superintendence.

“Fully occupied as her life was up to the time of her last illness, yet she was always full of sympathy and interest for her poorer neighbours, always ready to assist in any good work that came before her.

“You may like to hear how my aunt was beloved by the servants for her practical kindness and for the keen interest she took in all outdoor surroundings. Any curiosity discovered by them, whether animal or vegetable, was always carefully brought in for her inspection. Many were the snakes, birds, nests, insects, fungi, &c., handed to her, especially at the time when she did so much modelling.”

She maintained throughout a practical interest in the survivors of her mother’s old servants, and she extended her kindness and thoughtfulness to those of her own household. Her strong loyalty was curiously instanced on one of these occasions, on the King’s accession to the throne, when she summoned all her household, including outdoor servants, and produced some rare old white port in which they drank the King’s health. She subscribed liberally to St. Albans’ charities and other public objects in the Abbey parish in which she lived, as well as in St. Michael’s, where she attended church. Dr. Lipscomb gives, in a few words, “An instance of her great generosity, so well known to all who were intimate with her, though she ever did such deeds by stealth and blushed to find them fame.” He goes on: “I may mention a day she asked me to see her. Being rather late I apologised, telling her that the annual meeting of the governors of our local hospital detained me. She said she hoped we had had a successful meeting, and on my saying ‘Yes, with the exception that the accounts showed a deficit of some thirty odd pounds,’ she immediately produced her cheque book and gave me a cheque for the amount.” She also extended personal sympathy and practical help to many of her poor neighbours by whom she was loved and esteemed.

* * * * *

She never lost taste for the pastime of modelling in plaster of Paris, and at leisure moments, when unable to go out of doors, she would occupy spare time in this way. She modelled some beautiful specimens of common fruits and made the cast of her own hand. In the evening, when tired of writing, she would read or crochet. Her great skill in what is generally regarded as exclusively woman’s work is independently testified to by Miss Emma Swan, niece of Professor Westwood, who is so well able to speak with authority, in the following words: “What particularly struck me as a young girl at the time I visited her was the very beautiful needlework she found time to do, and pleasure in doing. Whatever she did, she seemed to do well!” From the same source we learn that “she sang and played the piano very well indeed.” She also composed music with facility and might have developed musical tastes, but for the overpowering love of science which was the absorbing interest of her life.[43]

We have it on excellent authority that the very greatest pleasure of all her public recognitions was experienced on April 14, 1900, in the McEwan Hall, Edinburgh, when the LL.D. of the University was conferred upon her in company with a group of distinguished recipients of that honour[44] before an assemblage of about 3,000 people. The trials of the occasion, which are described in her letters, were greatly lessened by the courtesy and kindness and whispered words of encouragement of his Excellency, the American Ambassador, who was placed beside her during the ceremonial, and preceded her in undergoing the ordeal of capping. In presenting her to the Vice-Chancellor (Principal Sir Wm. Muir) the Dean of the Faculty of Law (Sir Ludovic Grant) said, with his usual eloquence:—

“A duty now devolves upon you, sir, which has devolved upon none of your predecessors, and of which the performance will render the present occasion memorable in the annals of the University. Our roll of Hon. Graduates in Law contains the names of many illustrious men, but you will search it in vain for the name of a woman. To-day, however, a new roll is to be opened—a roll of illustrious women; and it is matter for congratulation that this roll should begin with a name so honoured as that of Miss Ormerod.

“The pre-eminent position which Miss Ormerod holds in the world of science is the reward of patient study and unwearying observation. Her investigations have been chiefly directed towards the discovery of methods for the prevention of the ravages of those insects which are injurious to orchard, field, and forest. Her labours have been crowned with such success, that she is entitled to be hailed as the protectress of agriculture and the fruits of the earth—a beneficent Demeter of the nineteenth century. It would take long to enumerate her contributions to Entomological and Phenological literature, but I may select for mention the valuable series of reports extending over twenty years, the preparation of which involved correspondence with all parts of the world. Remarkable, too, is the list of the honours which she has received. She was the first lady to be admitted a Fellow of the Royal Meteorological Society, and she has been awarded the Silver Medal of the ‘Société Nationale d’Acclimatation’ of France. To these distinctions the University of Edinburgh, sensible of her conspicuous services, and not unmindful of her generous benefactions, now adds its Doctorate in Laws.”

The honour referred to, conferred by our cultured neighbours across the channel, was publicly announced in the press in the following words:—

“At the Annual Meeting on the 25th of June, 1891, of the Société Nationale d’Acclimatation de France, M. Le Myre de Vilers, president, in the chair, the large silver medal of the Society, bearing the portrait of Geoffrey Saint-Hilaire, was decreed to Miss Eleanor A. Ormerod, of St. Albans, England, for her work in Economic or Applied Entomology.”

To a confidential correspondent she wrote, “You will believe that this pleases me very much.”

Plate XXII. shows this medal with three other silver and two gold medals that were presented to Miss Ormerod between the years 1870 and 1900 by home and foreign institutions.

* * * * *

Miss Ormerod preserved very few letters except those necessary for scientific or business purposes, and these she classified and fastened into books for convenience of reference. Nothing else, and especially nothing which if returned to the writer, would hereafter lead to unpleasantness, escaped ordeal of fire. After keeping letters on general subjects for a few days, she would tear them up. The result is that, of the mass of interesting contributions on many subjects, which poured in to the oracle, first of Isleworth and latterly of St. Albans, from all sorts and conditions of men and women, the few sample letters written by prominent public men and reproduced in these pages, are almost all that remain. To some of her relatives she wrote very amusing letters, but—no doubt inspired by the desire to avoid all possible danger of hurting the feelings of people referred to—she exacted the promise that they should not be preserved.

KEY TO MEDALS PRESENTED TO MISS ORMEROD AND SHOWN ON PLATE xxii.

Royal Horticultural Society, Victoria Medal of Honour, 1900. (Gold Medal.)

Royal Horticultural Society. For Collection of Economic Entomology. 1870. (Silver Medal.)

Société Nationale d’Acclimatation de France. Entomologie Appliquée. 1899. (Silver Medal.)

University of Moscow, 1872 Emperor Peter I., 30th May, 1672. Emperor Alexander II., 30th May, 1872. (Gold Medal.)

International Health Exhibition, London, 1884. (Silver Medal.)

Moscow Polytechnic Exhibition, 1872. (Silver Medal.)