The Forgotten Ledger of Whitmore’s Abandoned Taxidermy Parlor

The parlor is heavy with stillness. On the main table, the ledger lies open beside half-stuffed mounts, scattered pins, and untrimmed hides, each object implying abrupt cessation.

Preserving Nature with Care

The parlor belonged to Edwin Whitmore, professional taxidermist (b.

1876, Dublin), trained in anatomy and specimen preservation. His handwriting appears in the ledger, client notes, and small sketches of birds and mammals. Daily routines included morning preparation of specimens, midday mounting and detailing, and evening logging of completed and pending orders in the ledger. Whitmore’s temperament was meticulous, patient, and deliberate; every feather aligned, every hide taut, reflecting a life devoted to precise preservation and lifelike representation. Even minor misplacements were corrected with careful attention.

Suspended Specimens and Idle Tools

Partially mounted birds remain on stands, glass eyes uninserted, and jars of preservatives unopened. The ledger ends abruptly mid-entry, ink smudged across its lines. Scalpels, needles, and pins rest unused, and trays of feathers lie scattered but intact. The arrangement of tools and specimens conveys sudden interruption rather than gradual neglect, with every motion paused mid-practice and the faint scent of preservatives lingering. Each surface preserves halted routines, suggesting devotion abruptly abandoned.

Decline Through Allergy

Later entries in the ledger are sparse. Mountings remain incomplete. Whitmore’s decline was caused by severe respiratory allergy to preservatives, making continued work impossible. Daily practice slowed and then ceased, leaving every specimen, jar, and ledger entry mid-completion, neglected yet still arranged with care. Each halted mount conveys suspended labor, an unfinished record of skill.

The final discovery is the quiet of interrupted care. No explanation survives. The house remains abandoned, mounts idle, preservations unfinished, and every ledger frozen mid-entry, a testament to halted labor, disrupted vocation, and unresolved taxidermy expertise lingering silently in every room.