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 fren a Photograph by Samuel A, Walker, 230, Regent Street, W, 
 
 
 
NOTES AND JOTTINGS 
 
 FROM 
 
 mri MAL Lil & 
 
 BY THE LATE 
 
 FRANK BUCKLAND, M.A. 
 
 H.M. INSPECTOR OF FISHERIES 
 
 AUTHOR OF ‘CURIOSITIES OF NATURAL HISTORY’ ETC. EYIc. 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 $ 
 
 LONDON 
 SMITH, ELDER, & CO., 15 WATERLOO PLACE 
 1882 
 
 [All righis reserved] 
 

 
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 —~ O—— 
 
 THESE PAPERS were selected and arranged by FRANK 
 BUCKLAND, shortly before his death, with a view to 
 their early publication. The substance of them had 
 appeared in ‘Land and Water,’ whence the illustra- 
 tions (except that of Jemmy the Suricate and the last 
 sketch of the whale) are, by permission, reproduced. 
 Jemmy’s portrait is inserted, by permission, from the 
 ‘Leisure Hour.’ The articles will recall to many the 
 vivid and original. power of observation and illustration, 
 and the earnest love of nature, with whieh their author 
 was gifted. 
 
 Some papers remain for future publication. 
 
 G. C. BOMPAS. 
 LONDON: April 1882. 
 

 
CONTENTS. 
 
 est sid sh Sl 
 PAGE 
 CHRISTMAS DAY WITH MY MONKEYS : ; : ; ] 
 Mr. PONGO, THE GORILLA : : tPA aes ri 
 JOE THE CHIMPANZEE : : : ‘ : . +14 
 THE RAT, AND JUDY THE MARMOSET : ] Aa) chpeilte Sy | 
 
 My SURICATE JEMMY THE THIRD, JOE THE TAME HARE, 
 
 AND MY JACKASS . é , ‘ : ere ed 
 CARLISLE CATTLE MARKET . : ; : : py: 
 AN ELEPHANT IN ALBANY STREET. ; : ey Fea oS, 
 SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR AUSTRALIA : : ee: 
 SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR NEW ZEALAND ; ee tee 3 GOO 
 JOHN HUNTER’S CHAIR—EAT AND BE EATEN . ; aro 
 TALKING-FISH, EYES OF MuUMMy, ANTIQUITIES FROM PERU. 91 
 My TAME OTTERS . : : A : BRS 
 My OTTER TOMMY : ; : : : Pee AE 
 THE COSTERMONGERS’ AND PoOR MAN'S MARKET ‘ ge Lae 
 RELICS IN THE ASHMOLEAN MUSEUM, OXFORD : ee LED 
 ‘ CURFEW AND CHARTER HORNS 2 ; F . 128 
 PRE-ADAMITE LITTLE MEN, BEASTS, BIRDS, AND FISHES .. 135 
 THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL’ . = : 2 well 
 NOTES FROM SCOTLAND. : : ; , eas 
 
 NOTES FROM YARMOUTH . ; : g : 184 
 
Vill CONTENTS. 
 
 LONDON BIRDCATCHERS 
 SIR WALTER SCOTT’S HOME AT ABBOTSFORD 
 
 SALE OF MANDERS’ MENAGERIE ; : ' 
 
 PLAYGROUND FOR THE LIONS AND TIGERS AT THE ZOOLOGICAL 
 
 GARDENS 
 TIGER FIGHT AT THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS 
 POLAR BEAR CUBS 
 DESCENT OF THE LION FROM ‘NoRTHUMBERLAND HOUSE 
 
 LORD BUTE’S BEAVERS 
 
 REMARKABLE ACCIDENT TO A RED DEER IN WINDSOR PARK. 
 
 LECOMPTE, THE SEALS’ FRIEND 
 STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES 
 THE WHITE WHALE AT WESTMINSTER AQUARIUM 
 
 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE ARCTIC NARWHAL 
 
 UNCLE TOM, THE ALLIGATOR, AT THE SOUTHPORT AQUARIUM . 
 
 THE WAXWORKS IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY 
 THE JEWS’ FISH-MARKET IN LONDON 
 THE MANATEE 
 
 THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT . 
 
 
 
 - 
 a 
 
 ——- 
 
. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 FIGURE 
 
 xi 
 2. 
 
 0 DH NH 
 
 13. 
 
 14. 
 
 15. 
 
 16. 
 
 pen Be eS 
 PORTRAIT OF FRANK BUCKLAND : eee Frontispiece 
 JEMMY THE SURICATE ae : . +. To face page 24 
 ACCIDENT TO A STAG IN WINDSOR PARK Page 291 
 FORE-LEG OF THE STAG CAUGHT BY FORKED 
 BRANCHES OF A THORN TREE » 293 
 . SEA-BEAR AT THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS. oe aUD 
 SEA-LIONS AT THE BRIGHTON AQUARIUM 4 BOG 
 THE WALRUS. One 
 . POSITION OF WHALEBONE WITH. MOUTH OPEN BLO 
 POSITION OF WHALEBONE WITH MOUTH SHUT Ap gs Sve 
 . SECTION OF WHALE’S MOUTH SHUT Be Bs 4 he 
 SECTION OF WHALE’S MOUTH OPEN ole 
 WHALEBONE WHALE OF THE GREENLAND SEAS AE 
 . (A) ‘RIDGE OF FINS’ AS SEEN BY THE OFFICERS OF 
 H.M. YACHT ‘OSBORNE’ Ae ate: 
 (B) ANIMAL SEEN THROUGH A TELESCOPE, IN THE 
 OF SWIMMING AWAY ROE 
 SEA-SERPENT AS SEEN IN THE HIGHLAND LOCH IN 
 1872 : : ee 402 
 BASKING SHARK WITH FINS PROJECTING ABOVE THE 
 WATER » 406 
 GREENLAND WHALE SWIMMING AWAY. 410 
 

 
NOTES AND JOTTINGS 
 
 FROM 
 
 ANIMAL LIFE. 
 
 
 
 CHRISTMAS DAY WITH MY MONKEYS. 
 
 LITTLE Jack began the row ; I know he did, because I saw 
 him do it. 
 
 But who is Little Jack, and what was the row about ? 
 
 It was Christmas Day, a very cold Christmas Day, so I 
 made a good fire, and let out the monkeys for a run. 
 
 My family at that time consisted of four monkeys: 
 Little Jack, Tiny, Carroty Jane, and Jenny. 
 
 In the ‘ Monkey Room,’ as the servants call my studio, 
 lived also the rat, Judy the marmoset, Joe the tame hare, 
 Jemmy the suricate, the laughing jackass, and the old 
 grey parrot. 
 
 Little Jack is the fun of the whole cage, and at the 
 same time he is the plague and torment. of the inhabitants 
 thereof. When I bought him I was told he would grow 
 into a big monkey, instead of which he has grown into a 
 little monkey. <A lady was anxious to have a monkey, and 
 
 B 
 a 
 
= 
 2 CHRISTMAS DAY WITH MY MONKEYS. 
 
 I undertook to get her one. There are monkeys and mon- 
 keys; no two are alike in disposition and education. My 
 
 friend Jamrach had nothing to suit, but Mr. Davy, the 
 
 bird dealer, knew of one, so I sent to him for the monkey 
 ‘on sale or return,’ and the result was the appearance of 
 Little Jack sitting on Davy’s shoulder. My young friend 
 had not yet been educated. He looked scared, cold, and 
 
 half starved, and his manners were by no means elegant. 
 
 He was therefore not fit to go into a lady’s drawing-room 
 
 before he had been ‘ learnt,’ as the Londoners say. He is 
 
 about as large as a half-grown cat, and though quite a 
 
 baby he has the face of an old man. He is a Rhesus, the 
 
 Bhunder, or sacred monkey of India. He is as active as 
 
 a cat, and flies about the cage with the agility of a big 
 
 flea. His eyes are like diamonds, full of intelligence, 
 and as quick asa hawk. He isaregular Paul Pry, and 
 
 intrudes himself just wherever he is not wanted. Thus, 
 
 when Tiny and Jenny have nestled themselves in a corner 
 
 Little Jack jumps right into the middle of the group, and 
 
 does his best to upset the party. Like all little people he 
 
 has a great idea of his own consequence, and he thinks. 
 - that I, his master, am terribly afraid of him, for he 
 
 makes the most hideous faces at me, and chatters in such a 
 
 manner, that one would think he was at least a big 
 
 gorilla; perhaps he is in his own estimation. He can’t 
 
 bear being laughed at, and if I laugh at him he gets per- 
 
 fectly savage. 
 
 Jenny is a monkey I bought simply to keep Tiny 
 company when the Old Hag died. Jenny is the biggest 
 humbug I ever knew. She can be clever if she likes, 
 but she very seldom likes. Her mind is given entirely 
 
 8 
 

 
 CHRISTMAS DAY WITH MY MONKEYS. 3 
 
 to eating, drinking, and grumbling. I have seen her 
 with her two cheek-pouches perfectly crammed with po- 
 tatoes at her one o’clock dinner, yet when my luncheon 
 comes up she will begin to tremble and shake, and whine 
 just like an old beggar at a street corner. It is very 
 amusing to give her more than her pouches, and her two 
 hands and two feet can hold ; she is so terribly greedy that 
 she will try not to let the other monkeys have a bit. 
 
 Jenny has the power of pricking her ears a little when 
 angry; she makes a threatening face, and grunts out, 
 ‘Haw, haw.’ I have discovered Jenny’s weak point by 
 accident; she is in mortal terror of the house-broom. 
 I have only to put the broom round the corner of the 
 door, and she cries ‘kik, kik,’ until it is gone. Such 
 is her fear of this unknown object, that she is inces- 
 santly looking round the corner, expecting it to ap- 
 pear. The broom is of great use to me to stop a fight. 
 She has lately taken to carry Little Jack about between 
 her teeth, caring not a bit for his screams; directly she 
 sees the broom she drops Little Jack, who begins to tease 
 her again. 
 
 Carroty Jane goes upon three legs, and her face has 
 the aspect of a very old beggar woman. She is so thin 
 that you might almost call her a living skeleton, and yet 
 she is eating the best of food all day long—potatoes, 
 carrots, boiled rice and treacle, nuts, grapes, and raw meat. 
 She is an awful beggar, and when the luncheon comes up, 
 she hobbles across the room, climbs up on to the table, 
 and whines most piteously until she gets something or 
 other. She is as good as a timepiece. A quarter of an 
 hour before her feeding-time, which is always at a stated 
 
 B 2 
 
a CHRISTMAS DAY WITH MY MONKEYS. 
 
 hour, she begins to shiver and shake, and keep looking 
 towards the corner for John with the potatoes. I cannot 
 think what makes her sothin. I have heard it stated that 
 if cats take to eating flies they always get thin, but what 
 truth there is in it I donot know. Certainly Carroty Jane © 
 is a great fly-eater. In the warm weather, when the flies 
 are about, she manages to climb up on to the window-sill, 
 and holding on by one hand, catches flies with the other. 
 She is exceedingly adroit at this work: I don’t think I ever 
 saw her miss a fly. She is generally running loose about the 
 room, but when in her cage she is continually watching 
 for flies, and if one is fool enough to settle on the bars, 
 Carroty Jane is sure to have him. She munches up the 
 flies with a genuine gusto. I have known her to eat 
 twenty to thirty flies a day. : 
 
 She is also very fond of sprats. When I was working ~ 
 at the Scotch herring report I used to receive sprats 
 (Scotice, garvies) and young herrings nearly every morning. 
 These I used to broil for luncheon, and the monkeys used 
 to steal them off the gridiron. The monkeys all but Little 
 Jack would also drink beer; when Tiny wanted beer she 
 crossed her hands in a devotional attitude, and looked in a 
 supplicating manner first at the glass and then at me. 
 
 Jane lives on the top of the monkeys’ cage, her round 
 stand and pole being placed thereon. Little Jack cannot 
 therefore see her, as the top of the cage intervenes. It is 
 his daily and hourly amusement to watch for the appear- 
 ance of Jane’s tail. This is not much of a tail; it is very 
 ‘ratty’ in appearance, but yet long enough for Little Jack 
 to grasp occasionally. 
 
 Jane had spent the London season on the top of a pole 
 
‘CHRISTMAS DAY WITH MY MONKEYS. 5 
 
 in a drawing-room in Portland Place, and as she was very 
 ill I had taken her into hospital while her master and 
 mistress were abroad. 
 
 When the dinner of boiled potatoes is brought up, the 
 three monkeys sit round the plate, each one eating as 
 fast as he can. Most monkeys have cheek pouches, and 
 I am sure the reason why they have pouches is as follows. 
 Their natural habitat is in trees. They come down on 
 the ground for insects. My monkeys are particularly 
 fond of meal-worms. They collect their food on the 
 ground, and put it in their pockets, that is pouches, and 
 go up into the trees again to finish their dinner. When, 
 therefore, the potatoes arrive, my monkeys set to work, 
 eating as hard as they can, and fill their pouches at the 
 same time. Little Jack has very large pouches : no trace of 
 them can be seen at ordinary times ; but at dinner-time 
 he fills his pouches to such an extent that the two of them 
 put together are nearly as big as his whole head. 
 
 Well, on this Christmas Day the two elderly monkeys 
 were sitting on the perch in the cage, finishing off the con- 
 tents of their pouches, and their tails were hanging straight 
 _ down from the perch. What must rascally little Jack do, but 
 take Tiny’s tail in one hand, and Jenny’s tailin the other, 
 and give both at the same moment a tremendous pull! This 
 brought the two beauties on to the floor of the cage in an 
 instant. They were both furious at being thus interrupted 
 at dinner-time ; they asked no questions, but each think- 
 ing the other had insulted her, began to fight in a most 
 lively manner. They grappled, and rolled over and over 
 like an animated ball. They don’t hurt one another when 
 fighting ; their teeth are not big enough ; and I can always 
 
6 CHRISTMAS DAY WITH MY MONKEYS. 
 
 stop them by throwing cold water on them. While they 
 were fighting, Little Jack kept jumping down upon them 
 to keep them going, as it were. The rascal was much too 
 active ever to get caught. The noise of the combat 
 brought up Jemmy the suricate from the kitchen below. 
 He always turns up when a monkey fight is going on, and 
 as usual, up my gentleman comes, tail erect, and fur all 
 bristled up, to make himself look big. It so happened 
 that during this fight Tiny’s tail projected through the 
 bars. Jemmy immediately bit it with his sharp teeth. 
 Tiny thought it was little Jack that had done this, so she 
 turned and hunted him all over the cage, but she could 
 not catch him. Little Jack kept popping in and out of 
 the sleeping-box, and then Jenny joined in the hunt, and 
 the three of them scampered all about the cage, like the 
 row we see in the Punch and Judy shows. Jemmy kept 
 guard outside the cage, and bit anybody’s tail as their 
 tails happened to come out from the bars. Altogether 
 there was a nice row, and Little Jack, as usual, was at the 
 bottom of it. 
 
MR. PONGO, THE GORILLA. 
 
 WueEN Mr. Pongo, the gorilla, arrived in the year 1877, I 
 had several interviews with him, and I made the following 
 observations on his structure and habits. Mr. Pongo sits 
 nearly always on the floor with his legs tucked under him, in 
 a tailor-like manner. I do not think he is very arboreal in 
 his habits, but that when at home he would probably live 
 in acave. His face certainly cannot be called ugly, but at 
 the same time it cannot be called intelligent. The nose 
 is much depressed into the face; the lips are even with 
 the nose, and pink inside. He cannot smile, but he grins 
 like a dog. He will snatch and pull away anything 
 put near him. He took a pocket handkerchief from a 
 lady’s pocket, put it round his neck, and afterwards wiped 
 his nose with it. This, I am inclined to think, was not 
 imitation, but an accident. He is apparently not right- 
 handed, but uses both hands equally. 
 
 One distinctive point between man and the gorilla is 
 in the conformation of the hands. The thumb is ex- 
 ceedingly short, and cannot be used with anything like the 
 same facility as in the human subject. 
 
 In the human hand the three bones forming the finger 
 spring direct from the palm of the hand. In the gorilla, the 
 spaces from the knuckles to the first joint of the fingers 
 
8 MR. PONGO, THE GORILLA. 
 
 are united by a membrane, and become practically a con- 
 tinuation of the palm of the hand. 
 
 The gorilla uses his hand as a foot much more than 
 as a hand. When walking the fingers are bent inward 
 on to their first joint, thus forming a sort of pad on 
 which the animal walks. The fore-arms and hands form 
 as it were, supports for the rest of the body; in fact, 
 the gorilla’s gait may be hkened to a dwarf going on 
 crutches. The hind legs are comparatively small and 
 much bowed outwards like the legs of a baby. The 
 thumb of the foot has great powers of prehension ; indeed, 
 it may be said that the thumb proper is carried on the 
 foot. 
 
 It is to be remarked that the gorilla has no ealf to 
 the leg and no biceps in the fore-arm. According to m 
 observation, he cannot stand upright without supper ting 
 
 
 
 himself by means of some object. I have frequently seen 
 human beings acting a part as monkeys. It will be 
 remarked that in this case the moment the man is able to 
 relax his performance he stands instantly upright; the 
 gorilla, on the contrary, the instant he possibly can do so, 
 drops on all-fours on the ground. This is entirely in 
 accord with the definition of ‘Man’ as contrasted with 
 the brute given by the poet of old— 
 
 Os homini sublime dedit coolumque tueri. 
 
 As the gorilla walks, it will be seen that his back is 
 almost square, somewhat after the form of the back of a 
 prize cow, or the flat saddle used in horsemanship at a 
 circus. I have ascertained that this great breadth of 
 back is given by the ribs, which are broad and very strong. 
 
 
 
 —- = 
 ’ Sa 
 Pass 5 
 
ee 
 
 MR. PONGO, THE GORILLA. 9 
 
 In the human subject a space of about a hand’s breadth 
 intervenes between the bottom of the ribs and the top of the 
 pelvis or hip-bone. In the gorilla the ribs come close down 
 on to the top of the hip-bone. The hip-bones themselves are 
 not spread out laterally to support the weight of the body 
 as in man, but are narrowed as in many running animals. 
 
 The gorilla has apparently no more voice than a 
 roughish guttural sound. I never saw Pongo in a rage. 
 Under these conditions it is just possible he may make a 
 great noise. I have put my finger into his mouth, and 
 have ascertained that he has no pouch nor anything like 
 a pouch. He puts everything he can get hold of into his 
 mouth, and on all occasions his mouth and teeth are used 
 as weapons of offence and defence. 
 
 In this one fact alone there is a vast difference be- 
 tween human beings and gorillas. When men quarrel 
 they always use their hands, and in very exceptional 
 instances their teeth. 
 
 All monkeys seem to know intuitively that their great 
 teeth are their safeguard. Mr. Bartlett of the Zoological 
 Gardens tells me that he once brought a large ape with 
 tremendous tusks into a room where there were others of 
 the same species. These rascals took no further notice of 
 the arrival than by immediately beginning to yawn, thus 
 showing the whole extent of their terrible tusks. This meant 
 quite plainly ‘Oh yes, Mr. Stranger, you have fine long 
 canine teeth, no doubt, but so have we (yawn); just look!’ 
 
 This gorilla, as far as ascertained, does not use a stick 
 for the purpose of striking, nor has he ever been observed 
 to strike with his hands ; it is however most remarkable that 
 he frequently claps his hands ; in doing this his right hand 
 
10 MR. PONGO, THE GORILLA. 
 
 is always uppermost. I do not think this is the result of 
 imitation, or that he has been taught it; it is, I think, a 
 natural action. I gave him my hat, he placed it before him 
 upon the floor, and began immediately to drum upon it. 
 
 I am afraid the disciples of Darwin will be greatly dis- 
 comfited by the advent of this gorilla. Ifthe reader will 
 kindly put his or her hand to the ear, he or she will find 
 a very slight little hard knob on the external edge of the 
 fold of each ear, about a quarter of an inch from its highest 
 part. The presence of this knob, according to Darwin, in- 
 dicates ‘the descent’ of you and me, my friends, ‘ from a 
 hairy quadruped, furnished with a tail and pointed ears, 
 probably arboreal in its habits, and an inhabitant of the 
 Old World.’ ) 
 
 I was especially careful to examine the gorilla’s ear, and 
 I discovered that he does not wear a knob on his ear.’ 
 
 Pongo is but three and a half years old, and therefore 
 quite a baby. I was most interested to see how his infantine 
 instinct is more in accord with the human infantile rather 
 than with the adult mind. He is respectful, grave, and 
 towards adult ladies and gentlemen somewhat distant. A 
 
 1 There is a point to which I think attention has not been sufficiently 
 called in the examination of the comparative anatomy of the man and the 
 monkey. I mean the presence in the human brain of that curious body 
 which feels to the fingers like a grit of sand. This is called in anthro- 
 potomy (i.e, human anatomy) the ‘pineal body.’ I have often 
 examined this pineal body, and wondered what the meaning of its 
 presence in the human brain could possibly be. It is composed of 
 phosphate and carbonate of lime, and is found only in subjects after 
 seven years of age. 
 
 The object of the pineal body is very imperfectly known, and 
 although its office has been a theme for some of the wildest speculators 
 in physiological theories, we are still in the dark respecting it. 
 
 Now, has the gorilla a pineal body in his brain, or has he not ? 
 
MR. PONGO, THE GORILLA. 11 
 
 little boy and girl came in to see him while I was pre- 
 sent. After a while they both began to play with Pongo. 
 
 Gradually they fraternised, and began to play together 
 
 after the manner of little children. Not being a child, 
 I cannot enter into their funny sayings and doings about 
 nothing at all. So these three, the little boy and girl 
 and the gorilla, played together after their own childish 
 fashion for nearly half an hour, and I made the children 
 experiment on him with ornaments, handkerchiefs, &e. ; 
 but no—the ape’s brain could not understand the human. 
 Pongo put everything in his mouth, and tried to bite it 
 up. 
 
 When the two humans and the gorilla were sitting at 
 play on the floor I could not help seeing the amazing dif- 
 ference between the countenances of the gorilla and of the 
 children ; the one decidedly and purely monkey, the others 
 decidedly human. I could not in fact help seeing what a 
 vast line the Creator had drawn between a man anda 
 monkey. 
 
 Moreover the human lips are made for speaking, not 
 so the gorilla’s. They are the lips of a beast. Humans have 
 hair on their heads; Pongo’s hair is not hair in our sense 
 of the word, but simply a kind of fur continuous with the 
 other covering of the body. 
 
 Finally, Pongo’s structure and manners confirm my con- 
 viction that Darwin’s theory is here at fault, and that we 
 are not descended from monkeys. In actual structure we 
 resemble them somewhat, just as a watch that will wind 
 up, as sold in the streets for a penny, resembles the finest 
 chronometer ever tested at Greenwich by the Astronomer 
 Royal. No, human beings are not monkeys. 
 
12 MR. PONGO, THE GORILLA. 
 
 Why not rest satisfied with the origin of our race thus 
 revealed to us by the great Creator Himself? ‘So God 
 created man in His own image, in the image of God 
 created He him; male and female created He them.’ 
 
 For centuries past this has been, and for centuries to 
 come it will be, the standpoint of human intellect and 
 faith. 
 
 Having lived with monkeys in my sitting-room for so 
 many years, one thing I have learnt for certain is that 
 monkeys will not intelligently imitate the actions of men ; 
 their sense of hearing, smelling, and sight, far surpasses 
 that of ordinary civilised human beings, but their brain is 
 not sufficiently developed to imitate intelligently. 
 
 For instance, a monkey will sit before a fire till it 
 goes out, but the monkey will never put a bit of wood 
 or coal on the fire to keep it alight. I have tried this 
 over and over again with my monkey the Old Hag, who 
 was my constant companion at the fireside for so many 
 years. I have placed a stick in her hand and guided her 
 hand towards the fire, but her brain could not see the con- 
 nection between the burning stick and the warmth pro- 
 duced therefrom. Now I believe a half-grown baby would 
 put a stick ona fire that was fast burning away, and for 
 the simple reason that the human brain would enable 
 it to appreciate the connection between the lighted stick 
 and the heat. 
 
 If the monkey’s brain does not enable it to imitate the 
 actions of men, yet the tables can be turned, as shown by 
 the following story. 
 
 I saw when inspecting the Coquet in Northumberland, 
 a remarkably strong, active, intelligent boy between four 
 
 
 
MR. PONGO, THE GORILLA. 13 
 
 and five years old, playing about the salmon weir. His father 
 told me a very curious story about the child. At Christ- 
 mas he had been taken to see a pantomime in which mon- 
 keys performed a great part. The scene so impressed the 
 child’s mind, that the next morning he imagined himself 
 to be a monkey. Hewould not speak, and no kindness or 
 threats would make him speak a single word. He would not 
 sit at table with his brothers and sisters at meals, but 
 would only eat out of a plate placed on the ground, out of 
 which he ate his food, being on all-fours. If anything to 
 eat was presented to him, he always put it to his nose and 
 smelt it, just as a monkey does, before eating it. He was 
 continually climbing up trees and throwing down boughs, 
 ‘and grinning at the people below, like the monkeys in the 
 cocoa-nut trees in the pantomime. When his father tried 
 to correct him, the little fellow ran after him and bit him 
 on the leg. He would serve his brothers and sisters the 
 same if they teased him. ‘This curious monkey fit lasted 
 several weeks, but the idea gradually passed out of his 
 head. 
 
14 
 
 JOH THE CHIMPANZEE. 
 we 
 Many of my readers will recollect Joe, the chimpanzee, 
 who ¢ flourished ’ (as the school-books have it) at the Zoo 
 in 1866, and for about three years after. 
 
 I should like to record the way Mr. Bartlett used 
 to catch his chimpanzee, ‘ Joe.’ Exercise was indispens- 
 able for his health, so every fine morning in the summer 
 Joe was let out of his private room, and allowed to 
 scamper loose all about the Monkey room. There he 
 had a game of play with the other monkeys. As he 
 wandered about the cages on the outside they followed him 
 _ on the inside, thereby playing up what we used to call at 
 school ‘ Meg’s diversion.’ | 
 
 Joe was particularly fond of crawling about on the very 
 top of his cage, out of the reach of Sutton, the keeper of 
 the monkeys. The time at last arrived when visitors 
 began to come into the Gardens. It was then necessary 
 that Joe should be caught and put into his own apartment. 
 It was apparently impossible to catch him either by fair 
 or foul means. No amount of bribery of fruit or sweets 
 would cause him to descend from his perch. To what 
 passion of the monkey’s mind could therefure an appeal 
 be made? and in what form was that appeal to be pre- 
 sented ? 
 
 
 
JOE THE CHIMPANZEE. 15 
 
 Mr. Bartlett discovered that Joe’s weak points were 
 curiosity and cowardice. He therefore worked upon Joe’s 
 failings in the following admirable manner. He went to 
 the keeper, and touching him gently on the shoulder, 
 directed in a mysterious manner his attention to the dark 
 passage underneath the gas-pipe which traverses the 
 house, pretending to point out to Sutton some horrible un- 
 known creature ; using an energetic manner, but saying” 
 nothing except words to this effect: ‘Look out, there he 
 _ is, there he is.’ At the same time the two men would 
 peer into the dark place under the gas-pipe. 
 
 Master J oe, who was watching them from the top of 
 the cage, saw the two best friends he had in the world 
 apparently alarmed at some unknown object; his atten- 
 tion, therefore, became at once fixed and riveted on their 
 movements. He could hear and see nothing except the 
 alarm of his friends at this unknown and fearful object in 
 the dark; he therefore thought that if his friends (so much 
 superior to him in strength and intellect) were alarmed, 
 surely he also had a right to be frightened. He began 
 to pucker up his face, and gradually to descend in a 
 frightened manner to the floor of the monkey-house. 
 Keeping at a safe distance, he began to pout out his lips 
 to crow, and titter out his loud cry of alarm. Gradually 
 his curiosity induced him to come and see what there 
 really was in the dark place under the gas-pipe. When he 
 was near to the supposed point of danger, Mr. Bartlett 
 and Sutton would simultaneously shout out, ‘ He’s coming 
 out! he’s coming out !? They fled instantly with the 
 greatest alarm as from some object that they pretended was 
 emerging from the darkness towards the room occupied by 
 
16 JOE THE CHIMPANZEE, 
 
 Mr. Joe. Mr. Joe, seeing that it was a case of sauve qua 
 peut, was determined not to be behindhand in the flight; he 
 therefore chattered his loudest, bristled up his hair so as to 
 make him look double his natural size, and bolted instantly 
 with his greatest speed towards the door of his house. 
 Generally he was so anxious to get into a place of safety 
 that he outstripped both of his friends, even sometimes. 
 jumping leap-frog fashion over their heads, and won the 
 race, getting into his room some steps in advance of 
 Sutton, who at once closed the door upon my gentleman, — 
 and Master Joe’s wanderings were over for that day. 
 
 It is a curious fact that Joe never seemed to profit by 
 experience ; for whenever he was let out for his morning’s 
 airing on the top of the monkey cage, this clever plan of 
 Bartlett’s of appealing to his failings—curiosity and 
 cowardice-—never failed to succeed. 
 
 
 
i 
 
 THE RAT, AND JUDY THE MARMNOSET. 
 
 I OWE a great deal to rats. When a student at St. 
 George’s Hospital I wrote an article on rats, which I sent to 
 a magazine, and to my great amazement the publishers sent 
 me a chegue for it. From that moment I have taken a 
 great liking to my first patrons in literature, viz., ¢ Rats,’ 
 and I always somehow connect them in my memory with 
 publishers. 
 
 I have for the last twenty years never been without a 
 tame rat. The ‘Monkey room’ is the general refuge for 
 the sick animals belonging to my friends, and lucky are 
 those animals who come into this hospital. I almost 
 forget where the rat I am writing about came from. I 
 believe he was one I rescued from an untimely end by 
 being swallowed by the ant-eater at the Zoological 
 Gardens. 
 
 It is not generally known what excellent eating young 
 rats are; almost all the carnivorous beasts and birds at the 
 Gardens will eat young rats. I have a great mind in 
 these hard times to try young rats myself; anyhow, to 
 many creatures at the Gardens, especially to invalid snakes, 
 young rats are as turtle soup or whitebait. Our excellent 
 friend Mr. Bartlett, therefore, has set up a rattery, and in 
 
 C 
 
18 THE RAT, AND JUDY THE MARMOSET. 
 
 this rattery he breeds a great number of rats, thereby saving 
 a considerable sum in the commissariat of the Gardens. 
 The rattery is managed in this wise. There is a huge 
 box like a large corn-bin. On opening the box it 
 will be seen that its sides are divided into nice, com- 
 fortable pigeon-holes, and to the entrance of each pigeon- 
 hole is fixed a ladder, so that rats can come down to feed 
 in a common dining-hall or refectory, where a daily table 
 Whéte breakfast, dinner, and supper are provided. Meals 
 over, the rats go up the ladders to their private apartments, 
 each of which is generally found to contain a nest of blind, 
 squeaking baby rats. When rats are wanted for food 
 purposes the keeper lifts up the door of one of the pigeon- 
 holes and takes out what rats he requires. I recollect 
 when the ant-eater first came to the Gardens, there was a 
 capital caricature in Punch of a powdered-headed servant 
 bringing a basket to Mr. Bartlett, from an old lady sitting 
 in a brougham, with these words: ‘ Please, sir, the missus 
 ‘ave sent some new-laid ants’ eggs for the Jew-Beater ’ 
 (Mermycophaga jubata). Since that time it has been 
 discovered that the ant-eater will eat young rats. The 
 ant-eater has no teeth, and a very little mouth; hence his 
 American name Bocca chica. When a young rat is pre- 
 sented to him he coils his long, whip-like tongue round 
 the victim and swallows him like a pill. My rat would, 
 some four years ago, have gone straight down the ant- 
 eater’s throat if I had not caught hold of his tail, pulled 
 him out of the ant-eater’s mouth, and carried him home in 
 my hat. He has now lived for four years and longer in a 
 squirrel’s cage at one end of the mantelpiece, while the 
 other end is ornamented by a corresponding squirrel’s cage, 
 
THE RAT, AND JUDY THE MARMOSET. tg 
 
 containing a sick marmoset, which answers to the name 
 of Judy. Both Judy and the rat, being nocturnal animals, 
 remain all day long coiled up in their respective cages. 
 When the gas is lighted at night Judy comes out of her 
 cage and bows to the rat, while the rat comes out of his 
 cage, and lifting his white nose in the air, nods in a 
 supercilious manner to Judy. The maxim, immortalised 
 by Horace in the Ode which begins ‘ Qui fit Mzecenas ut 
 nemo quam sibi sortem,’ applies equally to Judy and the: 
 rat. Judy crawls as well as she can over to the rat’s cage, 
 goes in at the door, and steals the rat’s food. The rat, on 
 the other hand, sneaks into Judy’s cage, and picks up the 
 tit-bits there, which generally consist of grapes, sugar- 
 plums, mealworms, &c., as Judy is very delicate, and has 
 to be tempted with luxuries. One day the rat returned 
 home and caught Judy stealing. He pitched into Judy, 
 who screamed murder in a most terrible way, and he would 
 _ have injured ber unless I had interfered. 
 
 Judy is a great climber, and spends hours suspended 
 in a sloth-like manner from the gas-bracket. Every now 
 and then she whisks her tail into the burning gas, but very 
 _ quickly whisks it out again. The consequence of this 
 process having been often repeated is that Judy’s tail is 
 as hairless as a leather boot-lace. She has very sharp 
 claws, and spends much of her time hanging on the angle 
 of the cage nearest the fire. She has free run of the 
 mantelshelf and the writing-table. She does no mischief, 
 and being so very light does not upset anything. If 
 I catch her, or attempt to touch her, she begins her 
 rattle like a watch which has its spring suddenly broken. 
 The three monkeys in the cage when they hear this noise 
 
 c 2 
 
20 THE RAT, AND JUDY THE MARMOSET. 
 
 come to her rescue. Tiny shakes at the bars of the cage 
 with her feet and hands, and makes the most wonderful 
 faces I ever saw; she makes her eyes glare, and screws 
 up her face so that I may be afraid of her. 
 
 The marmoset’s ordinary note is a very high squeaky 
 plaintive sound, like that of a bat. She has also another 
 note which I cannot describe; it is of anger or fear. I 
 heard it for the first time when a gentleman brought in a 
 live mouse in a trap for the laughing jackass. The trap was 
 wrapped in paper, and the marmoset bristled up all the hair 
 she had, and that was not very much, and scratched at the 
 trap till she had pulled all the paper off. When she found 
 what the mouse was she seemed much afraid of it, and 
 danced round the cage, crying out in her own language, . 
 ‘There is something alive, there’s something alive—look 
 out.’ | 
 
 The rat has the bump of curiosity strongly developed, ~ 
 and nothing pleases him so much as to make an inspection 
 of my writing-table. He creeps cautiously about, and exa- 
 mines everything, his object being to steal. What he 
 likes best is lump sugar. My sugar-basin originally cost 
 a penny; like the Portland vase, it has been smashed and 
 broken so often that it is impossible to estimate its present 
 value. The cause of these numerous fractures is the rat, 
 who, when he wants a bit of sugar, stands up on his hind 
 legs, supporting himself with his tail in a tripod-like 
 fashion, and upsets the sugar-basin, then, selecting a lump, 
 he bolts with it. Itis a remarkable fact that the rat never 
 eats in the open; he takes all he steals back to his house. 
 In order to do this he has to get on to the mantelpiece, 
 which is about eighteen inches above the writing-table, 
 
THE RAT, AND JUDY THE MARMOSET. 21 
 
 To enable him to accomplish this, I have put up for him 
 a rat ladder built somewhat on the lines of a salmon 
 ladder. After I had shown him once or twice how to get up 
 this ladder he very soon learnt what he had to do. I have 
 known him scramble up his ladder with objects which fora 
 rat must be of considerable weight. One day I saw him steal 
 a whole red herring. Having tried the best way to carry 
 it, he ultimately picked it up at the right point where it 
 balanced. When he arrived at the round hole which leads 
 to the sleeping compartment of the squirrel’s cage, he was 
 pulled up short by the herring, which was crossways in his 
 mouth. I was curious to see what he would do. He dropped 
 the herring, and seemed to consider. Having quickly made 
 up his mind, he adopted the following plan. Leaving the 
 herring outside, he went into the hole, and turning short 
 round, seized it by the head, and hauled it in with the 
 greatest ease. The muscles about the neck of the rat are 
 very strong, giving him great power to use his wedge-shaped 
 head, whether for boring or carrying. He uses his tail to 
 steer himself, and when climbing, works it as a rope- 
 dancer works his balancing pole. 
 
 The rat is a great stealer of bits of paper, and any 
 loose pieces he can find he carries away. When the 
 post comes in in the morning, therefore, the rat has 
 the envelopes as a perquisite. These he tears into little 
 bits, and makes a very comfortable nest with them. 
 
 The rat agreed very well with the monkeys, but his 
 greatest ally was Jamrach. Here is the history of Jamrach. 
 After a time poor Little Jack was taken ill with a 
 tremendous cough, so I let him out of the cage, and he 
 used to sit almost under the fire, but he was too cute ever 
 
22 THE RAT, AND JUDY THE MARMOSET. 
 
 to get singed. One day Little Jack was so bad that I thought 
 he could not last till the next day, so I sent John to my 
 friend Jamrach, to bring back another monkey of any kind, 
 as monkeys, like ourselves, cannot live alone. John 
 brought back a deal box, upon opening which appeared a 
 pinched, wretched-looking face, with very bright eyes 
 attached to an apology for a body. After the new arrival 
 had been a short time in the house, he began to be tamed, 
 but the poor little fellow did not require much taming, 
 he was too ill We made him a coat at once, and that 
 he was wise enough not to attempt to take off. I wanted 
 a healthy monkey, not a sick one, and at first was going 
 to send him back to Jamrach, but I doubted much 
 whether he would live to get there. I named this monke~ 
 Jamrach, in honour of his former owner. J am strongly 
 of opinion that he is a retired organ monkey. I formed 
 this idea because, unlike most other monkeys, he no 
 more minds being picked up off the ground than does 
 a human baby. Again, when picked up, his great desire 
 is to crawl in underneath one’s waistcoat or coat, and 
 there remain cuddled up as long as you will let him 
 stay. He and poor sick Little Jack struck up a great 
 friendship, and they sit nestled together like babes in 
 the wood for hours without moving ; still, occasionally, 
 they make mouths at each other and have rows when ques- 
 tions of dainty bits arise. My Jamrach is a comical-look- — 
 ing monkey. When I examine him closely, I find his left 
 ear is torn as though a ring had at some time or other been 
 put in, and he had torn it out; his face and lower jaw are 
 quite bald, as though he were shaved every morning; on the 
 left cheek, just below the eye, he carries a tattoo mark. 
 
 
 
THE RAT, AND JUDY THE MARMOSET. 23 
 
 How they managed to tattoo him I cannot conceive. His 
 forehead is destitute of hair, and full of wrinkles, like a 
 very old man. The back part of his head has more hair 
 on it, but he has a bald place in the middle like the ton- 
 sure of the monks of old. 
 
 Jamrach is a very artful customer. Two baby children 
 came to stay at the house: Jamrach at first could not tole- 
 rate their presence in the Monkey room; he made terrible 
 faces, and pouted his lips at them. The children neverthe- 
 less used to feed him with bits of sweetstuff, &c. This I sup- 
 poseset Jamrach thinking, for he at once changed his tactics; 
 instead of swearing at them he suddenly became very 
 civil and chattered Good morning, thanking them espe- 
 cially in his own way when he got the sweets. Ultimately 
 it ended by his becoming the constant companion of the 
 children, attending them everywhere, especially at meal- 
 times. He likes to be looked at and talked to; he takes 
 everything with a serio-comic face which is very remark- 
 able, but he does not like being laughed at. 
 
24 
 
 UY SURICATE, JEMMY THE THIED; JOH, THE 
 TAME HARE; AND MY JACKASS. 
 
 As company for the monkeys and myself for many years 
 past I have had a ‘Jemmy.’ All my suricates I call 
 ‘Jemmys.’ The Latin name is Suricata Zenick. Jemmy 
 is a very pretty little beast, somewhat lke a small mon- 
 goose, or very large rat. His head is as like the head of 
 a hedgehog as can be imagined. His colour is light: 
 brown with a darker stripe down the sides. He is an 
 African animal, and lives in burrows on the plains, 
 whence he is sometimes called the ‘prairie dog,’ or 
 meercatze. 
 
 I should like now to say something of the habits of 
 this pretty little fellow. Jemmy the Third (for I have pre- 
 viously had two Jemmys) was allowed the free range of 
 the whole house. He was full of curiosity and restless- 
 ness, running continually from one room to another. He 
 very seldom walked; his pace, on the contrary, was a 
 short gallop, or rather canter. When on the move he 
 always gave tongue like a hound ona scent. It was im- 
 possible to describe his melodious cry in words. When 
 handled and petted he would utter a sharp bark, not unlike 
 that of a dog, and if he was in a very good humour I could 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Hy Pane 
 CA. LER REL E— 
 
 
 
 Fig. 1 JEMMY THE SURICATE. 
 

 
MY SURICATE, JEMMY THE THIRD. oS 
 
 by imitating him make him bark alternately with myself. 
 His great peculiarity was his wonderfully intelligent and 
 observant look. He had the habit also of sitting up 
 on his tail like a kangaroo; his fore-paws on this occasion 
 were like a dog’s when begging. He was very fond of 
 warmth, and would sit up inside the fender and warm 
 himself, occasionally leaning back against the fender and 
 looking round with the satisfied air of an old gentleman 
 reposing after dinner. 
 
 When the morning sun came into the room ‘Jemmy’ 
 would go and sit in the sunbeams and look out of the 
 window at the passing cabs and omnibuses. While doing 
 this he had a way of turning round very sharply, and 
 looking with his little pig’s eyes at me and back, as much 
 as to say, ‘What do you think of that?’ When breakfast 
 came up he would dance round me on his hind legs 
 watching for something. I often put him on the break- 
 fast-table, for if I did not put him up he would climb up 
 uninvited. It was very amusing to see him go and smell 
 the egg, and, in his own language, swear at it for being 
 hot. He could not understand its being hot enough to 
 burn his nose; raw eggs were his special favourites. His 
 ereat delight was to scratch about among the lumps of 
 sugar. He was also very fond of cream, and it was most : 
 amusing to see him try to get the little drops of cream I 
 had left for him out of the cream-can, as left by the milk- 
 woman, Iam obliged to have my cream in this little 
 can, otherwise the cats, Judy the marmoset, or somebody 
 else would be sure to have it before I come down. I placed 
 the cream-can on the floor, and it was fun to see Jemmy 
 try to force it open with his teeth to get the cream out ; 
 
26 MY SURICATE, JEMMY THE THIRD. 
 
 he used quite to lose his patience with this metal cream- 
 can. s , 
 
 After breakfast Jemmy generally had a stand-up fight 
 with the monkeys. He would inspect, from the outside, 
 the bottom of the monkey-cage. If he discovered any 
 portion of the monkeys’ breakfast which he thought 
 might suit him, he would immediately try to steal it by 
 thrusting his arms through the bars. The monkeys in- 
 variably resented this indignity. The old, crippled monkey, 
 Carroty Jane, could only make eyes and faces at him. 
 The wicked, impudent Little Jack would jump up and 
 down like an india-rubber ball, all the time well inside the 
 cage, where Jemmy could not get at him. When Jemmy 
 was fighting the monkeys he would stand on his hind 
 legs and show his lovely white carnivorous teeth at them, 
 turning up his sharp mole-like nose in a most contemptuous 
 manner, all the time keeping up a continuous bark, into 
 which fun the parrot generally entered, and barked like 
 Jemmy also. 
 
 One morning, in the middle of the fight, Jemmy for- 
 got himself for the moment in turning round, and gave 
 the ever-vigilant Little Jack a chance. Little Jack seized 
 Jemmy’s tail with screams of delight, and pulled him 
 straight up to the bars. Carroty Jane then joined in, 
 and they were getting the best of it, when suddenly 
 Jemmy turned sharp round and made his teeth meet in 
 Little Jack’s hand. Little Jack skirmished round the 
 cage three or four times on three legs; then holding up 
 his wounded hand, gazed mournfully and piteously at it, 
 every now and then leaving off looking to make fiercer 
 faces, and cock his ears at Jemmy. Never since has 
 
 
 
MY SURICATE, JEMMY THE THIRD. oT 
 
 Little Jack ventured his hands outside the bars when a 
 Jemmy fight comes on. 
 
 One of the funniest scenes that ever happened with 
 Jemmy was as follows. Some seaside specimens had 
 been sent me, and among the seaweed was a live shore 
 crab about the size of a five-shilling piece. Little Judy, 
 the marmoset, who will eat any quantity of meal worms, 
 bluebottle flies, &c., came down at once off the mantel- 
 piece and examined Mr. Crab, who was crawling about on 
 the floor. None of my animals evidently had seen a live 
 crab before. The monkeys were very frightened, and 
 made the same ery of alarm as when I show them a snake 
 or the house-broom. Judy plainly thought that the crab 
 was a huge insect. The crab put out his two nippers 
 at full length, and gave the marmoset such a pinch that 
 she retreated back again to the mantelpiece, and from this 
 safe height gazed down upon the still threatening crab, 
 uttering loud cries of ‘Chick, chick, chick,’ alternated 
 with her plaintive, shrill, bat-like note. Presently round 
 the corner comes Mrs. Cat. The cat evidently thought 
 that the crab, that was gently crawling about, was a 
 mouse. She instantly crouched, head, eyes, and ears all 
 intent, as if trying to make up her mind whether the 
 crab was a mouse on which she ought to pounce or not. 
 Hearing the row caused by the crab and marmoset fight, 
 up comes Jemmy in full cry, with tail cocked well in the 
 air. He also attacked the crab, but could not make head 
 or tail of him. He did not like the smell, still less did 
 he like the sundry nips in the nose that he received from 
 the crab’s claws. 
 
 A grand crab and Jemmy fight, which lasted nearly 
 
28 MY SURICATE, JEMMY THE THIRD. 
 
 half an hour, then took place, ending in the discomfiture — 
 of the crab, whose carcass when dead the marmoset and 
 the cat, both coming forward, evidently desired to share. 
 Although it was apparent that the taste of the crab was 
 not agreeable to Jemmy’s palate, yet he gradually ate him 
 up, claws, shell, and all, simply that the other animals 
 should not get a single bit. 
 
 Jemmy has teeth half carnivorous, half insectivorous. 
 When he is at home in Africa he lives upon mice, 
 beetles, &c. He probably digs these creatures out of 
 the ground, for whenever he saw a crack in the floor, 
 or a hole in a board, he would scratch away at it, as 
 though much depended upon his exertions. When he 
 was fed it was curious to observe how he always pretended 
 to kill his food before eating it. He invariably retreated 
 backwards while he was scratching and biting at his sup- 
 posed lively food. The living food evidently was in the 
 habit of escaping forwards. Mr. Jemmy took good care 
 that it should not do so by scratching incessantly in a 
 backward direction. 
 
 The cat’s-meat man comes punctually every day at 
 half-past one; when the cats hear the cry ‘meat’ they 
 rush down into the area. When the cats ran down, 
 Master Jemmy seeing them bolt, would run also, his 
 object being to steal from one of them her ration of 
 meat. By instinct or experience he had somehow found 
 out that cats’ claws are very sharp, and whereas his 
 mode of attack upon the monkeys was face to face, the 
 monkeys being clawless, he attacked the cats by ruffling 
 his hair up and pushing himself backward. The cat, 
 annoyed by being disturbed at dinner, would leave 
 
 
 

 
 MY SURICATE, JEMMY THE THIRD. 29 
 
 off eating and strike sharply at Jemmy with her paw; 
 that was his opportunity. In a moment he would 
 seize the cat’s meat and bolt with it, but by a most 
 peculiar method, for when within striking distance of the 
 ¢at’s paw he would turn round and back up to the cat’s 
 face, and directly she struck at him, he caught the blow 
 on his back; then he would put his nose down through 
 his fore-legs, and through the hinder ones, and have the 
 meat in a moment, leaving the cat wondering where it was 
 gone, Jemmy had by this time taken it into safety. 
 Under the table in my room there is just space for him 
 to crawl, where the angry cat could not follow him. In 
 this retreat he would finish up what he had stolen, and 
 then emerge, licking his lips, and probably laughing to 
 himself at the disappointed face of the cat. 
 
 Jemmy was always fond of getting under anything or 
 into any kind of hole; his great delight was to get into a 
 boot, and when he got to the end he scratched as though 
 he wanted to get farther into the burrow. Frequently I 
 found my boot going round the room, propelled ap- 
 parently by some internal machinery. This machinery 
 was Master Jemmy. 
 
 Jemmy was a greedy little fellow. John could not 
 bring up any kind of food into my room without Jemmy. 
 He would watch the cook broiling the chop down stairs, 
 and when John brought it up would follow close to his 
 heels; and what between J emmy’s pretty begging man- 
 ner, the monkey’s plaintive cries, and the parrot’s demand, 
 it often happened that I myself got very little of the chop. 
 
 I had hoped to have written a fuller biography of our 
 poor little Jemmy the Third, but, alas! Jemmy was taken 
 
30 JOE, THE TAME HARE, 
 
 with a fit. I did everything I could to relieve the poor 
 little fellow, but the fits were too much for him, and I 
 have since been busily occupied in making his skin 
 into a mat and his bones into a skeleton. The last 
 Jemmy died of eating cotton wool; this Jemmy died, 
 I think, of eating too much, for he was as fat as a little 
 bacon pig, and weighed 2 lbs., a great weight for such a 
 little animal. It is curious how fond I become of dear 
 little animals such as Jemmy, and how much I miss his 
 pretty little ways as I sit in the Monkey room writing 
 this memoir of my little pet. 
 
 When at Rye, in Sussex, on a sea fishery inquiry in 1879, 
 I sawa collection of fancy rabbits, among which were some 
 very beautiful specimens. In a hutch all by himself was 
 a live hare, which when quite a little thing had been caught 
 by a dog. My friend very kindly gave me this hare, in 
 order that I might see what I could do in taming it. 
 
 When I turned the hare, which I called Joe, down on to 
 the floor of my own room he exhibited great alarm, rushing 
 about the room in all directions, eventually concealing him- 
 self behind some books. From his look, I think he must 
 have some intelligence, for he watches me about the room 
 with his beautiful dark brown eyes. He seems to know I 
 am his friend. 
 
 It is quite evident that the hare depends for safety on 
 keeping perfectly motionless. The colour of the fur is 
 very much that of ploughed or fallowed ground, and his 
 ears are always stuck back flat on his shoulders. When he 
 gets up to run, he does not look at all like the same 
 animal. He will then cock his ears straight up in the air, 
 
 
 
JOE, THE TAME HARE. 3) 
 
 as though there were wires in them, and it is surprising 
 how he can stand upright, as it were, upon his hinder legs. 
 These hind legs are somewhat analogous to the legs of the 
 kangaroo, and they enable the hare to prope! himself along 
 at a most tremendous pace. Iam told that a hare runs 
 better up hill than down. The hind feet are covered with 
 hair, hence the genus has been sometimes called Dasypoda, 
 or hairy-footed. Iam not quite sure of the meaning of 
 the hairy foot, but I have an idea that it gives the 
 animal a firmer hold of the ground than if the sole was 
 naked. Hares’ feet make good hat-brushes. Gunmakers 
 use them in their trade. 
 
 I tried the experiment of seeing whether Joe, the 
 hare, would live in the cage with the monkeys, my cham- 
 berlains, as they are sometimes called. I had some difficulty 
 in getting Joe out of the hutch. I had no idea that the 
 little fellow was so strong; he kicked tremendously with 
 his hind legs. It was very interesting to watch the mon- 
 keys’ opinion of the hare, and what I have observed shows 
 me more than ever what amazing natural instinct these 
 animals have. They inspected the hare from the perch in 
 the cage, never attempting to come down till they had 
 ascertained the nature of their visitor. Little Jack was 
 the first to try experiments. Leaning over the bars of 
 the cage, he pulled the tips of the hare’s ears; finding 
 the hare did not fly at him, he came down on to the floor 
 of the cage with an attitude of extreme caution and cir- 
 cumspection ; then stretching out his hand andarm as far 
 as they would go, he gave the hare’s fur a touch; finding 
 that nothing happened, he became bolder, and gave 
 the hare’s fur a good pull. The hare would stand this 
 
~ 
 
 32 JOE, THE TAME HARE. 
 
 no longer; he jumped round with the quickness of a 
 ‘Jack in the box,’ and gave battle to Little Jack, who, 
 like most bullies, showed himself an arrant coward. The 
 hare showed fight by holding up his fore-legs and scratch- 
 ing at Little Jack, and at last, using his fore-paws, 
 scratched Little Jack’s face, implanting the blows in a 
 most workmanlike manner. It was curious to see Little 
 Jack’s subsequent mode of attack. He would not face the 
 hare, but backed up towards him, using his tail as a sort 
 of shield. He then did what I never saw him do before, 
 put his head on the ground, and look at the hare from 
 between his hind legs. It was curious to see how very 
 soon the hare found out that Little Jack was a humbug, and 
 could not really hurt him, so he began to treat his attacks 
 with an air of off-handed indifference, and at last they 
 quite made friends together. The battle being finished, 
 the old crippled monkey, Carroty Jane, came down from 
 her perch very cautiously, and inspected the hare. Carroty 
 Jane is a good-hearted monkey, and of a very peaceable 
 disposition. The hare squatted quite still in the corner of 
 the cage. Jane went close up to his head, and the two re- 
 mained there for some minutes simply gazing with wide- 
 open eyes steadfastly into each other’s faces. This wasa 
 curious scene, as the minds of these two animals, so very 
 distinct in their nature and habits, were evidently inter- 
 changing ideas. The result of this congress between Jane 
 and the hare was the conclusion of peace. Jane began a 
 chatter, a sure sign that she was in a good temper and 
 very well pleased. The hare showed that he approved of 
 the friendship by a quick movement of the upper lip such 
 as we see in ordinary rabbits, while Jane showed her appro- 
 bation by looking for fleas in the hare’s fur. 
 
 
 
JOE, THE TAME HARE. ~ 33 
 
 Joe lived in my room for several months. He chose 
 for his residence the interspace between my writing- 
 desk and the wall, and there he would sit all day. At 
 night, when everything was quiet, Joe used to hop out 
 cautiously, and, having looked me straight in the face for 
 a minute or two, would go to the fire, sit up on his hind 
 legs, and warm his white waistcoat. I am afraid I did 
 not succeed in taming Joe, though I tried my best; I 
 therefore sent him to the Zoological Gardens, to elucidate 
 if possible the question of leporines. 
 
 A great deal has been said and read about leporines, 
 which are said to be a breed between a hare and a rabbit. 
 Our friend Mr. Bartlett feels sure there is no such 
 breed; and one of his reasons is that hares are born with 
 their eyes open, and that they can run almost imme- 
 diately after birth. Rabbits, on the contrary, are born 
 in holes, with their eyes shut for some days, and it is 
 many days before they can run. To Mr. Bartlett are 
 brought sometimes supposed hybrids between a cat and 
 arabbit. Our friend says a cat with a short tail will not 
 prove the argument. He wants a rabbit with a long 
 _ tail. I have heard the following story of the great Duke 
 of Wellington being completely sold by a showman. A 
 man had advertised an exhibition of a hybrid creature 
 between a tench and a hare. When the Duke went to 
 examine it, the exhibitor told him he was very sorry he 
 could not show the specimen itself, as it had gone to Court 
 to be exhibited to the king ; but, if it was any satisfaction, 
 he would show him both the father and the mother stuffed 
 and in glass cases ! 
 
34 . MY JACKASS, 
 
 I have received a new addition to the menagerie in 
 Albany Street. It isa jackass. My jackass is now sitting on 
 the pole I use when out on salmon fishery inspections, and 
 he has just eaten three mice which ‘Bilzy,’ the cat, has been 
 kind enough to kill, when they came out at night to steal 
 the seed from the parrot’s cage. This cat lives upon cat’s- 
 meat, and she disdains to eat mice, though she will catch 
 them for sport. The jackass does not bray, but he laughs 
 most heartily, hence his name of Laughing Jackass. I 
 cannot make him laugh when I like, and I do not know 
 what is the cause of his cachinnations, but when he does 
 
 laugh the ringing sound can be heard all over the house, { 
 
 and the other day much frightened a visitor waiting in the 
 room below. My jackass is not a four-footed jackass—i.e., 
 donkey proper—but an Australian kingfisher—the giant 
 kingfisher, Dacelo gigas. The following is his history: It 
 was seen flying over a park in the vicinity of Eltham by 
 a game-watcher, who fired at and brought it down. The 
 shot appeared to have only slightly grazed the wing, and 
 the bird, when I first saw it, had been about a month in 
 captivity, and seemed quite well and lively. Of course this 
 stranger must have escaped from captivity ; most likely, I 
 fancy, from a-homeward-bound Australian ship, as the 
 Thames is not more than four miles, as the crow flies, from 
 where the bird was captured. The man who shot it was 
 completely puzzled as to its species, and said gravely that 
 he thought it must be a kind of sea-gull! Raw meat and 
 fish seem to be equally acceptable to the palate of the 
 aboriginal. I suppose he lives upon snakes and other reptiles 
 in his native country. My jackass would eat almost any- 
 thing. He would eat any amount of sprats or little birds. 
 
 
 
MY JACKASS. 35 
 
 One day a gentleman brought a canary bird that was a 
 wonderful singer. The little bird’s cage was left open for a. 
 moment, but that moment gave Mr. Jackass an oppor- 
 tunity. He instantly seized the canary and swallowed: 
 him right down, feathers and all. It has always been: 
 a mystery in the house as to where that canary went;: in: 
 this book now for the first time is the secret divulged. 
 
 When the jackass first arrived, the monkeys’ made 
 terrible faces and shook their cage at him. The parrot 
 ruffled up her feathers, and looked double her size. She 
 can tolerate any number of quadrupeds in her room, but 
 no birds. Little Jemmy, the suricate, immediately on 
 arrival, interviewed the jackass. It was the greatest fun. 
 Jemmy is rather a coward, though he pretends to be 
 brave ; he went as near to the jackass as he dared, ready 
 in a moment to take a spring back. The jackass, on the 
 contrary, stood his ground, and hoisted an enormous crest 
 like a cockatoo ; he then opened his bill like the bill of a 
 pantomime bird, and. lunging well forward, took Jemmy’s 
 head right into his mouth. This was quite enough for 
 Master Jemmy, who instantly went threes about, and 
 - galloped away as fast as he could. Jemmy never tried 
 it on again, but he often went underneath the jackass’s 
 perch and looked up at him, like the fox and the crow 
 in AXsop’s fables. 
 
 The jackass sleeps in his cage, and he laughs every 
 morning when he sees the light coming through the 
 shutters. This is the London life of the jackass. Here 
 is the account of our friend when at home in Australia, 
 from the pen of that accomplished naturalist, Dr. G. 
 
 D2 
 
36 MY JACKASS. 
 
 Bennett, author of ‘Gatherings of a Naturalist in 
 Australia : ’-— 
 
 ‘ This bird attracts attention more by the extraordinary 
 notes which it utters than by anything conspicuous or 
 elegant in its plumage. It is the great brown kingfisher 
 of naturalists, called by the blacks ‘ Gogera,’ or ‘ Gogobera,’ 
 probably from its note resembling the sound of the word. 
 By the bush traveller it is regarded as an old friend and 
 companion, because it enlivens the solitude of the bush 
 with its peculiar sounds. It is the first bird heard in the 
 dawn of the morning, when the woods resound with its 
 peculiar noise; and again at sunset its cry is to be 
 recognised, as well as occasionally during the daytime; 
 hence its name ‘The settler’s clock.’ In the stomach of 
 specimens I dissected I have found the remains of lizards, 
 snakes, and small Mammalia, together with ‘caterpillars, 
 gold beetles, and other coleopterous insects, which con- 
 stitute its usual food. Unlike kingfishers, I never ob- 
 served them procuring their food from the water.’ 
 
 
 
37 
 
 CARLISLE CATTLE MARKET. 
 
 WHEN examining the train bills at Carlisle station in 
 1874, in making out my route for several days’ official 
 inspection of salmon rivers, I was lucky enough to meet 
 my friend Mr. Bell, of Billholm, Langholm, Dumfries. 
 He told me that (although it was not yet 9 a.m.) he had 
 sold all his lambs at the market, and was going home. All 
 of a sudden he said, ‘If you like I will show you the Car- 
 lisle Cattle Market ;’ so finding the trains fitted in nicely, 
 for a wonder, off we started. 
 
 No sight is more pleasant to me than a local market, 
 for here we get a general idea of the people living in the 
 neighbourhood near the county towns, and can inspect 
 the local products. On going through the street by 
 Carlisle Post Office, my first idea was that the principal 
 products were old women, chickens and ducks, eggs, 
 butter, and onions. The country carts were arranged 
 in a row along the pavement; then came rows of old 
 women, sacks, &c.; and then baskets containing live 
 poultry, eggs, butter, and onions. The chickens seemed 
 very happy; they were sitting in baskets, probably with 
 the legs tied, and their heads and necks protruded through 
 the netting, which kept them secure. The groups of 
 living heads of ducks, chickens, &c., mixed in baskets 
 looked very funny. I confess I could hardly understand 
 
‘38 CARLISLE CATTLE MARKET. 
 
 ‘the dialect of these good Cumberland folks; it is tremen- 
 dously broad. My ears were, however, pretty well accus- 
 tomed to it, because when in the 2nd Life Guards nearly 
 all our troopers talked with a Cumberland accent; the 
 reason being that so many of the men came from Cum- 
 berland that non-Cumberland recruits soon picked up 
 the accent. For the same reason the soldiers of many 
 marching line regiments talk with an Irish accent, because © 
 there are so many Irish in the ranks. 
 
 The Cumberland natives are a very strong, bony, tall, 
 big people. I believe they feed the babies much upon 
 oatmeal, and all oatmeal-eating babies grow up with big 
 bones. 
 
 Such giants indeed are the Cumberland men that 
 the chief constable told me a London tailor entered 
 into a contract for clothes for the police, but when the 
 tailor’s foreman came from London to measure the 
 men, he found they were such gigantic fellows that his 
 ealculated amount of cloth would run short, and he 
 was obliged to break the contract. The Carlisle police 
 are the finest body of constabulary I ever saw, and are 
 the terror of the salmon-poachers on the Eden. 
 
 Leaving the poultry market, we visited the pig market ; 
 the pigs were mostly in carts, and kept down by nets. 
 They seemed very clean and happy pigs; the price of a 
 big ten-weeks-old pigling was thirty shillings. An old 
 woman selling pigs told me she gave her pigs common ~ 
 coal to eat, and they were very fond of it. ‘This fact is, I 
 believe, well known to keepers of pigs ; if itis not, let them 
 give their pigs coal, it makes them fat. In the pig mar- 
 ket is the weighing machine, and over it the arms of 
 
 
 
CARLISLE CATTLE MARKET. 39 
 
 Carlisle, viz., a heraldic lion, like nothing ever created, 
 and apparently cut to fit the stone, two towers connected 
 by a porteullis, and lines to represent, I suppose, water. 
 The motto is ‘ Be just and fear not.’ . 
 
 To the west of the beautiful bridge across the Eden was 
 the cattle market; I do not remember ever seeing so many 
 cattle together before; the poor beasts were arranged in 
 groups, generally with their heads in the centre and tails 
 outside. Mr. Bell informed me that these were mostly Irish 
 cattle, and that they were imported in very large numbers 
 via the port of Silloth. They were mostly lean, poor-look- 
 ing things, but doubtless would soon fatten on English pas- 
 tures, turnips, and Thorley’s food. How is it that everything 
 seems to breed so well in Ireland; pigs, chickens, cattle, 
 salmon, &c.? Geese, also, breed freely in Ireland. At the 
 far end of the market I espied an immense flock of geese. 
 Just as Larrived, two men, Irishmen, were driving them te 
 the river’s bank, and in they all plunged into the Eden for 
 a wash and a drink. How these poor geese seemed to 
 enjoy their bath! and what a row they made in the 
 water! None of the poor birds tried to get away. As they 
 came out on land I observed each goose flapped its wings 
 and gave a kind of pleased note, which meant, I am sure, 
 ‘Well, that’s a grand bath, after that horrid steamboat 
 voyage.’ The Irishmen did not seem to be up to the 
 Southern plan of driving geese with a bit of red rag at the 
 end of a long stick, nor did they use a crook to catch them 
 by the leg. There were over 400 geese, the men said. The 
 farmers bought them te turn out on the stubble. London 
 printers generally have a ‘ wayzgoose’ dinner in the 
 autumn: a wayzgoose means, I believe, a stubble goose 
 
40 CARLISLE CATTLE MARKET. 
 
 I should like to know the origin of the London printers’ 
 wayzgoose dinner. 
 
 In the middle of the river Eden stood a great white cow ; 
 the water was nearly over her back, her ears were pricked 
 forward, and her eyes stared out of her head as she bellowed 
 incessantly to the Irish arrivals on the other side. I sup- 
 pose the Irish cattle did not understand her Cumberland 
 lingo, for they did not answer. ‘This great white cow in 
 the Eden reminded me of a picture my mother used to 
 show me when a youngster, of Pharaoh’s dream of the fat 
 and lean kine coming out of the Nile. If we had driven 
 an Irish cow into the river to bellow in answer to the 
 Cumberland cow the old picture would have been quite 
 realised. 
 
 On the west side of the bridge, beyond some hurdles, was 
 the sheep market. These Cumberland hurdles, by the way, 
 were quite new to me; they have four bars, and the hurdles 
 are joined to each other by a most ingenious and simple 
 contrivance of a bar of wood. They are not called hurdles, 
 but ‘ flakes.’ I believe the great green racecourse-looking 
 field, where the sheep market is held, is called the Scars. 
 The whole place was a mass of sheep, each flock was by 
 itself, and the sheep did not seem to get mixed a bit; how 
 this is managed I cannot possibly conceive. The river Cal- 
 dew bounds the west end of the Scars, and at its junction 
 with the Eden a grating was put to keep out the salmon 
 from the poachers ebove, Lut the winter’s floods carried 
 it away. In order to find the level of winter floods 
 I looked out for the high water mark, which was com- 
 posed principally of corks ; why so many corks I cannot 
 imagine. I also picked up several leaves of a very ancient 
 
 
 

 
 CARLISLE CATTLE MARKET, 41 
 
 history of England. It seemed very well arranged and 
 written, and I learnt many dates from it which I had for- 
 gotten. I then stood on the raised bank of the Caldew to 
 examine the sheep, the shepherds, and the sheep hoys. 
 The shepherds I have been accustomed to see in the South, 
 down Berkshire and Bedfordshire way, are quite different 
 from the shepherds I saw at Carlisle sheep fair. Our 
 southern shepherds wear smock frocks, leathern gaiters, 
 gigantic ironed boots, and always carry a crook, like the 
 bishops in the monuments and windows we see in cathe- 
 drals. The Carlisle shepherds had no crooks: how do they 
 get on without them? and they were all dressed in ‘ go-to- 
 meeting’ costume, in fact, they were to my mind much 
 too great ‘swells’ in their dress to be shepherds. Dogs— 
 such a lot of sheep-dogs—mostly colleys, not the short- 
 tailed dogs of the Berkshire hills, but long-tailed dogs, 
 with most intelligent, thoughtful faces. A swell shepherd— 
 I was almost afraid to speak to him—kindly gave his 
 dog orders to move his flock where I indicated; the orders 
 were given with voice and hand, the poor dog did his work 
 wonderfully well. He pretended to be very cross to the 
 sheep, but they did not seem to fear him, they only did 
 what he told them to do, and then they stared at him with 
 their laughless, but yet intelligent, faces. Why should 
 not sheep-dogs be employed as aides-de-camp to a general 
 in war? I believe they might be utilised. The general’s 
 orders might be tied round their necks. If I were a 
 general I should certainly have a number of well-trained 
 colley messenger dogs attached to my staff. Here then is 
 a hint for ‘The Duke’ and the War Office. One poor dog, 
 who I observed was doing his best to get his sheep into 
 
42 CARLISLE CATTLE MARKET, 
 
 position, and (as a dog-fancier at a dog show once told 
 me) ‘’ad barked hisself ’oorse,’ displeased his master— 
 the master threw his stick at him. The dog gave a look 
 of insulted dignity and disappointment, put his tail 
 between his legs, and bolted then and there. I sympathised 
 with that dog. I have often done my best, and then have 
 been snubbed for my pains. I did not see at Carlisle 
 sheep market the celebrated dumb sheep-dog, of which | 
 the shepherd said, ‘I lets the dog run the sheep while I 
 sit still and barks myself.’ Iam afraid there are many 
 such shepherds among our noble selves. 
 
 From the bank top I espied a gigantic swell shepherd 
 with a very small ash stick in his hand, running after some 
 200 sheep, both going as hard as they could. The sheep 
 went faster than the man. Mr. Bell told me he was 
 taking a cut; that is, he was driving some twenty or 
 thirty sheep from the general flock as a sample to see if he 
 would buy the lot. After looking for a minute or two at 
 ‘the cut,’ the swell shepherd began hunting the sheep again 
 all by himself. The sheep dodged him and he the sheep, 
 and that poor man kept running after the sheep as hard 
 as he could, with a thick coat en, and a great comforter 
 round his neck on a very warm morning, for at least 
 twenty minutes. I believe there was one sheep in the lot 
 he wanted particularly, but never got him, and perhaps 
 he and the sheep are still dancing quadrilles on Carlisle 
 Scars at this moment; but I suppose he knew his own 
 business. 
 
 There were between 30,000 and 40,000 sheep in the 
 fair that day. Every owner has his mark, mostly made 
 with ‘reddle,’ a kind of rouge, sold in large quantities 
 
 
 

 
 CARLISLE CATTLE MARKET. 43 
 
 to Madame-Rachelise the sheep’s pale faces. The total 
 value of the lot of sheep on the Scars was very great. 
 The money transactions take place seldom by cheque, 
 generally by notes and gold. Mr. Bell showed me the 
 money he had received tor his lambs. I not only saw, 
 but smelt the money from afar. It consisted of a roll 
 of Scotch bank one-pound notes, nasty, dirty, ragged 
 pieces of paper, looking only fit for the fire. These 
 notes, I understand, are sometimes quite intolerable; the 
 notes from Wick are the worst, there is a charming odour 
 of fish about them. Mr. Bell’s notes smelt of sheep. 
 However, my friend did not seem to despise them at all. 
 
 As we were leaving the Scars, lo and behold! an old 
 woman tending a gigantic black pot hung over a fire by 
 three sticks ; she was stirring it, and inside was about two 
 bucketsful of delicious-looking soup. The old woman gave 
 me a great bowl of her soup, and a bit of bread and salt 
 for three-halfpence. I enjoyed it amazingly, and had 
 another pennyworth. It was magnificent soup, made, I 
 think, principally of sheep’s heads, peas, onions and other 
 excellent things. 
 
 When the market was over I accepted Mr. Bell’s kind 
 invitation to his house up among the hills, as he offered 
 to show me his museum and to tell me more about sheep, 
 &e. He is an enthusiastic naturalist, and until lately 
 had a considerable number of living animals about his 
 house: he has been obliged to part with most of his 
 collection, but he still has remaining a kangaroo and a 
 pair of storks. His storks live in a field with the cows, 
 and form a great addition to the natural beauties of the 
 domain ; they pick up worms and grubs in the fields and 
 
44 CARLISLE CATTLE MARKET. 
 
 hedges, but he cannot obtain any frogs for them. I had 
 no frogs in my pocket to give the storks, but I had a 
 lucifer-match box full of little toads, about the size of 
 beans. JI had found these toads hopping in great 
 numbers about the garden of Corby Castle, on the 
 Eden, when I called to ask permission to inspect the 
 salmon loops. When I opened my toad-box, I found the 
 poor little things all dead and in a jelly. I had been 
 _ sitting on them when in the ‘machine,’ as they call a 
 fly in Scotland. In the pleasure-grounds of Corby Castle 
 I was almost frightened by coming upon a huge giant, 
 looking out of the wood. The giant was twelve feet high, 
 carried an immense club, and had only one eye. His 
 name was Polyphemus. He was cut out in stone some 
 fifty years ago; Goliath of Gath must have been about 
 his size. 
 
 Mr. Bell has built a very nice little museum, in 
 which there are some good specimens of natural history of 
 all kinds, especially some human bones brought from the 
 Crimea to Glasgow to be ground up for bone manure. 
 On our road from Carlisle, just as we were going into the 
 town of Langholm, we observed an appearance on the top 
 of the trees in the wood opposite, on the other side of the 
 Esk. This phenomenon was like a cloud or evening fog 
 rising ; it was not, however, near the ground, but was of 
 a pyramidal shape, about twenty or thirty feet in height 
 and about twelve feet wide. This cloud was probably 
 composed of gnats; these great clouds of gnats are not 
 uncommon about the woods in this part of Scotland in the 
 autumn: perhaps some of our readers may have observed 
 similar great clouds of insects hovering over the woods, At 
 
 
 
CARLISLE CATTLE MARKET. 45 
 
 the junction of the Black and White Esk he showed us an 
 old archway where water-ousels breed every year. I am 
 glad to find that he considers water-ousels do not injure 
 the salmon eggs. 
 
 I was much interested in watching through my field- 
 glass from the road, sixteen blackcock and two grey hens 
 basking in the sun by a hayrick; they seemed very happy 
 and comfortable. There are agreat number of these birds 
 about strictly preserved by the Duke of Buccleuch. It 
 was a pretty sight to see them fly over the hill-top. I 
 could never bring myself to shoot or injure such beautiful 
 birds. Mr. Bell has recorded a curious instance of 
 affection of a blackcock to his wife. He remained about 
 her after she was dead and had even become a skeleton. 
 Close to this bridge, near Castle Orr, a locality was 
 pointed out to me called the ‘ Hand fasting place ;’ the 
 tradition was that people could come there and get 
 married for a year and a day, the marriage contract lasted 
 no longer; the country people here think that there is a 
 ‘bushel of wedding rings’ buried near this place, but they 
 have never yet been dug up. Near Castle Orr there are 
 some curious-looking enclosures made with stones on the 
 hill-side. These are called ‘ Kepe or Kebe houses ;’ the 
 sheep are driven into them to be fed when the snow is on 
 the ground. There are also smaller houses for ewes with 
 lambs. It is a common practice among the shepherds if a 
 lamb dies to take the skin of the dead lamb, tie it on 
 another live lamb, and the mother will then suckle it. If 
 the skin of the dead lamb was not put on, the mother would 
 drive it away. Lambs so brought up are called ‘ Kebe 
 lambs.’ 
 
46 CARLISLE CATTLE MARKET. 
 
 We saw some fine colley dogs about. Mr. Bartlett, 
 who was with us, pointed out a curious fact, that the pecu~ 
 liar brown and chocolate-coloured streaked dogs generally, 
 if not always, have one brown eye and one white eye. 
 
 The shepherds up in these Scotch hills are a curious 
 class. They used formerly to take their dogs to church 
 every Sunday. The dogs would sneak quietly underneath 
 the seats, and remain as quiet as mice during the ser- 
 vice; but when the congregation came tothe psalm which 
 concluded the service, the dogs without any sign or signal 
 from their masters would suddenly get upon their legs and 
 howl loudly in concert with the psalm. They never howled 
 at. any psalm but the last. The shepherds do not now take 
 their dogs to church—for this reason, that the parson does 
 not want the assistance of the dog choir—but somehow 
 the dogs always know when it is Sunday. The shepherds 
 know their sheep by their faces. Mr. Bell had a lad of 
 fifteen on his sheep run who was very clever at this. He 
 knew every sheep in the run, and it is said that if he had 
 once seen a sheep he never forgot its face. 
 
 The shepherds on these hills are very fond of bracksey 
 mutton. This is simply the flesh of the sheep which die 
 on the hills. I was told that this bracksey mutton forms 
 a chief part of their food throughout the year, and that they 
 will eat it when it is in a horrible state. I believe they 
 put it up the chimney, and make a sort of ham of it. From 
 what I hear of it I don’t think it very likely to be patro- 
 nised by Fortnum and Mason. The dead sheep are the 
 perquisites of the shepherd. 
 
 Sheep-washing does not do much injury to the river, 
 but anglers complain of bits of wool getting into their flies 
 
 
 
CARLISLE CATTLE MARKET. 47 
 I 
 
 when fishing. I find, however, that all about this part of 
 the world the rivers are very much injured by tanners. 
 They put lime on the flesh side of the skin, and leave it 
 there for a certain time; the lime loosens the wool, which 
 then easily comes off. The tanners then take these lime- 
 saturated skms and wash them in the river, thereby doing 
 great injury to the fisheries. In summer-time the mag- 
 gots do much injury to the sheep ; carbolic acid is a good 
 thing to destroy them. The shepherds do not keep a 
 sufficient look-out for flies; they do not seem to know 
 that maggots are deposited by flies. 
 
 In former times the hill shepherds used to spear the 
 salmon kelts in very large numbers when they came into 
 the burns among the hills to spawn, but since the Esk 
 Association has been started there is but little poaching 
 going on. This lack of poaching I am sorry to say is not 
 universal in Cumberland. At another place, which shall 
 be nameless, there used to be people who carried on.kelt 
 killing as a business, and just as a tradesman may be 
 called a tallow-chandler, cheesemonger, &c., so these men 
 were called ‘ Kipperers.’ One of these kipperers was a 
 dwarf, a very little fellow with a very hig head. Upon 
 one occasion he tied a leister fast round his wrist and 
 stuck it into a bigsalmon. The salmon struck off quickly 
 down stream, pulled the little dwarf (whose name was 
 Joey) off his legs, dragged him through the bridge, and 
 very nearly over a mill weir below. They put caricatures 
 all over the town of little Joey riding triumphantly on the 
 top of a salmon with a leister in his hand, like Neptune 
 riding the waves. Not long ago Joe the kipperer died, 
 and when about to depart, he told his friends to look into 
 
48. CARLISLE CATTLE MARKET, 
 
 the small of his back and they would find a charge of shot. 
 He said, ‘When I was out a-kippering a long time ago, 
 when I was a lad, old Tipple of —— Farm warned us off, 
 We wouldn’t go, so the old gentleman ups with the gun, 
 and the consequence has been that I have carried about 
 under my pei a charge of old Tipple’s shot for the last 
 forty years.’ 
 
 An old shepherd who lived upon the hill-side had 
 been accustomed, as man and boy, to spear salmon on 
 his sheep run. When the Salmon Act came in he was 
 obliged to leave off, as he called it, his legitimate sport. 
 A great number of salmon were subsequently seen spawn- 
 ing on the very shallow where the old man used to leister 
 them. One of the conservators asked him to come down 
 to look at the salmon. The old man groaned a heavy 
 groan, and said, ‘I canna gang; I will no go; I could — 
 no keep my hands off of them; I could no resist the 
 temptation.’ 
 
 
 
49 
 
 AN ELEPHANT IN ALBANY STREET. 
 
 EARLY one Sunday morning, in Oetober 1874, there came 
 a tremendous ‘rat-tat’ at the door. I never will receive 
 visitors on a Sunday, and could not therefore imagine who ° 
 could be calling at such an early hour. ‘John,’ the 
 Buttons, announced Mr. Jamrach’s foreman, who came 
 with a very long face, and looking very miserable. 
 ‘What’s up?’ I said; ‘nothing the matter with the 
 governor, I hope?’ My friend Jamrach is daily and 
 hourly in such close communication with wild animals, 
 that I thought possibly the big bear, the tiger, the hyena, 
 or one of the numerous wolves which a day or two before 
 I had inspected in the back yard close to 180 St. 
 George’s Street East, had collared Jamrach, and injured, 
 ‘if not eaten him up. 
 
 ‘The old man’s all right,’ said ine foreman, ‘ but the 
 elephant is dead, and the governor thinks he has been 
 poisoned, or that there has been foul play of some kind; 
 and as Jerrard and a lot of ’em refused to open him, the 
 governor says he would be very much obliged if you 
 would make the post-mortem examination.’ 
 
 ‘But where is the elephant?’ said I. 
 
 ‘Oh, he is laying stiff on the straw in our stable-yard, 
 but I’ll fetch him here in two hours if you will open him,’ 
 
 E 
 
50 AN ELEPHANT IN ALBANY STREET. 
 
 ‘ Right you are,’ said I; ‘ cut away and fetch bim.’ 
 
 On my return from church I observed a great litter of 
 straw in the street in front of the house, which indicated 
 to me that the elephant had really arrived. 
 
 ‘ Where’s the elephant, John?’ I said. 
 
 ‘He’s laying at the bottom of the stairs, close to the 
 kitchen door, sir; and I can’t move him, and the men is 
 gone.’ 
 
 So I rushed down to the kitchen, nearly stumbling 
 over the beast, who was lying, stomach uppermost, at the 
 bottom, blocking up the kitchen door, with his four legs 
 in the air. John informed me that they had brought the 
 elephant in a cart. They tipped him on to the pavement 
 into a large piece of canvas, and, with the assistance of 
 some men who were standing by, got him to the top 
 of the kitchen stairs. They then gave him a shove, and 
 rolled him downstairs, and he came down head over heels 
 like the tumbling nigger we see as a child’s toy. I have 
 often told the servant-girls, who for some unknown rea- 
 son will never report arrivals, that if ‘even an elephant 
 were to come downstairs they would not tell me,’ and 
 when an elephant did really come downstairs they never 
 said a word. 
 
 With the assistance of some friends who came to see 
 the animal, we got the elephant into the casting-room. 
 We put him in a kneeling position, as though he were 
 going to have a howdah put on. When properly posed I 
 searched for external wounds, and quickly discovered that 
 the elephant had an awful ‘black eye.’ His right eye 
 and eyelid were much swollen and inflamed, and there © 
 was a soft place above the eye, which showed there was 
 
 
 
AN ELEPHANT IN ALBANY STREET. 51 
 
 fluid under the skin. I have forgotten to state the 
 measurements of my new friend. From the tip of trunk to 
 end of tail, nine feet ; body, four feet seven inches long ; 
 height, about four feet; weight, as much as six men 
 could move. 
 
 The case being so important—it was thought to be 
 elephant murder—-I sent to my friend Mr. Bartlett, who 
 kindly came down at once. As there seemed to be some 
 doubt about the cause of the black eye and swelling on 
 the forehead, I determined, as I had to go to Lydney to 
 the meeting of the Severn Board by the nine o’clock 
 express train that evening, although it was Sunday, and 
 quite contrary to the rules, to begin the post-mortem 
 then and there. 
 
 I therefore dissected off the right side of the skin of 
 the elephant’s face, and was pleased to find that there was 
 no blood diffused below the surface of the skin, and that 
 the fluid under the skin was not blood, nor was the skin 
 stained, nor were the bones fractured or bruised. 
 
 The cause of death, therefore, it was satisfactory to 
 find, was not a blow. Thinking that I should never 
 perhaps have so good an opportunity of making a cast of 
 an elephant, I directed my secretary Mr. Searle to begin 
 early the next morning to make a mould of him, and 
 see that he was taken to the Zoological Gardens, with 
 the request that the Prosector would be kind enough to 
 finish the post-mortem. He subsequently reported that 
 the cause of death was ‘inflammation of the lungs in 
 the first stage.’ Although Jamrach by this sad event 
 lost his beast, whose price was 350/., yet it was very 
 satisfactory to know that the animal died from natural 
 
 bE 2 
 
52 AN ELEPHANT IN ALBANY STREET. 
 
 causes, and not from a malicious wound, as was origin- 
 
 ally suspected. 
 Being away on Monday and Tuesday, I was not able 
 to be present at the post-mortem, but on taking off the 
 
 skin of the elephant’s face I discovered a very rare speci- 
 
 men, for from underneath the skin slipped out a small 
 
 slimy substance, the colour of new-melted lead, about a | 
 
 quarter of an inch long, and like a tear as cut on French 
 tombstones. This I recollected from Professor Owen’s 
 lectures was a gland peculiar to the head of the elephant. 
 I at once turned out the most valuable book in my 
 library, viz., the ‘ Catalogue of the College of Surgeons,’ 
 and found the following passage :—‘ Preparation 2103.— 
 The scent-gland from the side of the head of the elephant, 
 the duct of which opens at a short distance behiud the 
 eye. The gland is of a flattened and lobulated form; a 
 section has been removed from one side to show its 
 thickness and compact structure. It is stated to be in 
 activity, and to secrete an unctuous fluid having a strong 
 musky odour at the period of sexual excitement.’ Mr. 
 Bartlett says the presence of this gland is a mercy, as it 
 enables those in attendance on the elephant to ascertain 
 when he is beginning to lose his temper. 
 
 About a month afterwards I managed to finish the 
 cast of Jamrach’s baby elephant. The mould, when filled 
 with plaster, was a terrific weight, but by means of lever, 
 chains, and other dodges, I managed to turn it over, so 
 
 that the outside plaster could be chipped off. I found 
 
 that the front and back entrances to my little kitchen, 
 where I made the cast, quite barred its exit. Up the 
 stairs, therefore, he must go. ‘ Round the corner’ was 
 
 
 
 q 
 | 
 
AN ELEPHANT IN ALBANY STREET. 53 
 
 the difficulty, as plaster will not bend; so I took a sharp 
 thin saw and cut the elephant right in half. By the 
 assistance of the two dustmen, we then managed to carry 
 Mr. Elephant in bits, cut up like a traitor of old, up the 
 kitchen stairs. At one moment the cast of the head 
 part was in danger. Mr. Edon, who was alongside of 
 me, was crushed out of the work by the narrowness of the 
 passage, and the whole weight came on me. Luckily I 
 thought of my shoulder, and, by supporting the weight, 
 saved an accident. The careless dustmen kindly knocked 
 off an ear and one of the legs, and the tip of the tail. 
 We, however, put on these dismembered limbs again all 
 right. I made an ornamental saddle and girths and 
 erupper, and put them on the elephant, and he now looks 
 beautiful in the ante-room of my fish museum. The 
 ‘ Artist’s Elephant’ at the south-east corner of the Albert 
 Memorial looks quite a ‘guy’ by the side of my little 
 beauty. 
 
54 
 
 SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR AUSTRALIA. 
 
 EVERY one who knows what is going on in the salmon 
 world is aware that near the mouth of that beautiful river, 
 the Dart, is a mill-weir—a very great obstruction to 
 fish. They must also be aware that Christmas week and 
 the week after is the time when salmon are most ‘ at hill,’ 
 turning up the gravel and making their nests. The Dart 
 rises in Dartmoor, where there are some splendid spawn- 
 ing-grounds, and were it not for the Totnes weir and the 
 pollutions of mines at the top, and wool-works in the 
 middle, the Dart would indeed be ‘flwvius piscocis- 
 sumus.” | 
 
 It was from the Dart that in Christmas week, 1875, I 
 undertook. to collect salmon eggs to be sent direct to 
 Melbourne in January by the s.s. ‘ Durham.’ 
 
 After many letters and telegrams as to the state of 
 the water, the nesting of the fish, &c., the right moment 
 at last arrived, and I started for Exeter, and thence to 
 Totnes. 
 
 
 
 Early the next morning, on looking over Totnes Bridge, 
 I found that the tide was up. I adjourned, nevertheless, 
 to the weir, and waited till the water had fallen low 
 enough for us to begin. Mr, Garland (lessee of the fishery), 
 his men, and two water-hailiffs were present, When the 
 
SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR AUSTRALIA, 55 
 
 water had dropped to a certain point, ‘ All right now, sir,’ 
 said Garland. ‘Slip her round then,’ said I, and away went 
 the boat from the shore, the oars making that peculiar 
 rattle and rubbing noise so melodious to the ears of salmon 
 fishers. As the boat advanced the net was quietly 
 dropped into the water, she made a great circle in the weir 
 pool, and we then pulled swiftly to land. ‘Steady, men, 
 steady; keep the lead line well drawn,’ I cried; then as 
 _ the net was dragged nearer and nearer to the shore I felt 
 the line, and from a particular shake in it felt certain 
 that we had some salmon, and that the net had ‘ fished 
 well.’ 
 
 When she came into shoal water the shouts of those 
 assembled were great; we had indeed a splendid haul. 
 The men wanted to pull the fish out on land, but I would 
 not allow it, as 1 am most careful. never to injure fish. 
 The splutter the poor frightened fish made when they 
 found themselves in danger was wonderful. ‘ Leave them 
 alone ; they will soon be quiet,’ I said. I then went into 
 the water and examined the captives. The poor fish were 
 regularly ‘blown’ by their exertions to escape, but in 
 about five minutes they began to leave off splutterivg, and, 
 strange to say, ranged themselves in a row side by side, 
 with all their heads directed towards the deep water, like 
 cavalry horses tied to a picket-rope. 
 
 I then put my hands deep into the water and examined 
 them one by one. They never flinched when I touched 
 them—I suppose they knew I was their friend. Mr. Gar- 
 land wished me to put the fish that had not spawned over 
 the weir, and for this purpose had provided long and shallow 
 wicker baskets containing rushes and soft moss. As I 
 
56 SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR AUSTRALIA. 
 
 touched each fish I cried out what he or she was. Thus, — 
 ‘Female, not ripe; bring the basket;’ the basket was 
 then brought as near me as possible. I then gently 
 caught hold of her ladyship’s wrist (the thick part above 
 her tail) with the right hand, while the left hand slewed 
 her round till she lay broadside on. Then kneeling down 
 in the water, I quickly slipped my arms under her and 
 popped her with a jerk into the basket, the lid was put 
 down instantly, and she ‘danced Jim Crow’ in the basket. 
 J examined her again, after which two men carried her 
 away, and slipped her into the mill leat above the weir; 
 she doubtless then made the best of her way, as fast as 
 her tail would propel her, up towards Dartmoor, wondering 
 doubtless, in her scared mind, what had happened to her, 
 and what it was all about. 
 
 In this manner I examined all the fish in the net, 
 putting the unripe ones into the baskets, and sending 
 them to be turned down on the upper side of the 
 weir. 
 
 At last I had only the ripe fish left in the net. It 
 ‘was then my assistants’ turn to help me. When I had 
 got a fish to suit me I put him into the basket, and let 
 him get alittle faint. The iridescent colours of the saimon 
 when he is getting faint are very beautiful ; coruscations 
 of lovely emerald and gold shoot all over his scales as he 
 quivers like a man with the ague. I fancied also that his 
 face changed, and an expression of ‘ What a fool I am to 
 have been netted!’ came over it. When he had got a 
 little quiet I slipped a sheet of house-flannel under him, 
 one assistant held his head, and one his tail, and thus his 
 struggles were reduced toa minimum. It is necessary to 
 
 
 
SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR AUSTRALIA. 57 
 
 be more careful with the females than the males. The 
 fish must never be kept too long out of water; all fish 
 must be nursed when returned to the water. If they go 
 on their side and lie still, they are in danger. I therefore 
 make it a rule to go into deep water with every fish that 
 has been spawned, and hold his or her head against the 
 stream. As the fish recovers I relax my hold, and in a 
 few minutes he will give a great gulp with his gills and 
 swim away. uninjured. 
 
 I now give the score of the salmon caught in three 
 hauls below Totnes Weir: first haul, females eight, males 
 eight ; second haul, females two, males five; third haul, 
 male one; total, twenty-four. Many of these were large 
 fish, two were not less than three feet eight inches in 
 length, and were, I should guess, nearly thirty pounds in 
 weight. 
 
 This shows how preserving sea-kelts will increase the 
 general size of salmon in a river. These big fish made 
 Garland stare. ‘We never gets them big ones in the 
 summer-time ; they never comes up till late, when they 
 knows we must not catch them.’ 
 
 ‘No, Garland,’ I said, ‘they know the law as well as 
 you or I do. Salmon get more and more clever every 
 year, and I really believe they know every amendment 
 in the Act of 1873. What they pray for most now is an 
 Anti-Pollution Bill, and I trust they will get it this next 
 session.’ 
 
 I calculated I had obtained about twelve or fourteen 
 thousand eggs from these Dart salmon. They were very 
 fine, healthy-looking eggs. Some of them | packed in 
 moss by the side of the river, in the boxes in which they 
 
58 SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR AUSTRALIA. 
 
 were eventually to go their long journey to the Anti- 
 podes. 
 
 On January 4, 1876, I went to Lancaster to continue 
 collecting salmon eggs for Australia. On my arrival I 
 was met by Mr. Thompson, lessee of the Skerton and 
 corporation fisheries on the Lune ; who prophesied that if 
 there was no flood in the night, we should catch some fish 
 the next day, either at Skerton or Halton Weirs just above 
 Lancaster. 3 
 
 We began early the next morning by fishing Skerton 
 Weir. The net at Skerton is taken round the pool 
 at the base of the weir not by a boat, but by a horse 
 and cart. The old mare-—‘ Grey Fanny ’!—knows her 
 work as wellas or possibly better than her master, and she © 
 seldom or never makes a mistake. The net being piled up 
 in the cart, Mr. Thompson drove the mare across to the 
 other side along the shallows at the foot of the pool. 
 When they got tothe other side a long rope was passed to 
 Mr. Thompson’s assistants, who walked along the base of 
 the top of the weir, over which a strong current, dangerous 
 to those not aceustomed to walk on weirs, was running. 
 
 All being ready, the old mare walked leisurely back 
 again along the way by which she had come. Mr. 
 Thompson all the while was paying out the net from the 
 
 1 Grey Fanny is a wonderful animal, and seems to enjoy fate 
 they say she suffers much from rheumatism, except when she is in the 
 water, and then she is all right. This fishing mare, old ‘Grey Fanny,’ 
 has been working the nets at Skerton Weir for nearly seventeen years. 
 She is a very old-fashioned customer ; sometimes a flood takes her cart 
 off its wheels and swings it with the stream. Old Fanny, however, 
 knows what to do. She has never been toit (Lancashire for ‘ upset ’) 
 
 yet. It is very funny to see her look at the struggling salmon with her 
 great eyes and stiff ears. I am sure she enjoys the sport, 
 
 
 
SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR AUSTRALIA. 59 
 
 back of the cart. It was not necessary to guide the mare, 
 as she knew the road in the river quite well; nevertheless, 
 she nearly got out of her depth every now and then, and 
 it was amusing to see her manceuvre herself out of 
 trouble. 
 
 The result of two hauls at Skerton Weir was one male 
 salmon, five jack, and a roach. I was very pleased at this 
 failure of fish, because a new fish pass had lately been put 
 up under the superintendence of Mr. Walpole and myself, 
 and certified at Skerton Weir, and if it had not been effi- 
 cacious we should of course have caught many salmon below 
 this weir, for it is the first weir at which the fish arrive after 
 leaving the sea. I was very pleased also to hear such good 
 reports of the diagonal board which I put up at Skerton 
 some five years ago. ‘They say the fish like it even better 
 than the pass. 
 
 Mr. Thompson then determined to try the ‘ Ladies’ 
 walk’ draft. This is a pool situated some half-mile down 
 the river, not far above the bridge which connects Skerton 
 with Lancaster. There are several islands between Skerton 
 Weir and the bridge, and we walked the shallows between 
 them, in order to drive off any fish that might by chance 
 be making their nests there. I disturbed one pair of 
 very fine fish which had just begun making their nests 
 in the gravel, and I found one nest not quite finished. I 
 tried to get some eggs out of this nest with my hands, but 
 the current was so rapid and the water so deep, that 
 although I saw a few eggs dancing about in the stream I 
 could not catch them. 
 
 Having beaten down the shallows between the 
 islands, I found there was no other way of getting to 
 
60 SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR AUSTRALIA. 
 
 the drafting place than by walking across a very broad 
 piece of the river. I can tell pretty well, looking 
 from the bank, where it is safe to walk in a river. This 
 time I miscalculated, for close under the bank, at the 
 further side, the water deepened most suddenly and unex- 
 pectedly. The bottom of the river was formed by huge 
 round slippery stones, the current was excessively strong, 
 and I was as nearly as possible carried off my legs. Mr. 
 Edon, who -was behind me, was, as well as myself, in a 
 very awkward difficulty, if not in danger. Mr. Thompson, 
 however, who knew the ground, shouted out to us to take 
 another path, and we ultimately landed safely. 
 
 In the meantime Grey Fanny had somehow or other 
 managed to drag across the river not only the draft-net, 
 but also two of the Local Board of Conservators. We then 
 took a shot round the ‘ Ladies’ walk’ pool, and caught two 
 hen salmon, one quite done, the other not ready. Time 
 was getting on, so we hastened back to Mr. Thompson’s 
 mill at Skerton, and trotted away to Halton Weir, about 
 two miles off, sending the nets up the river by boat. 
 Below the mill-tail at Halton we discerned two fish on 
 their nests, but although the shot was made with the net 
 as quickly as possible, we missed them and caught only a 
 little grilse containing a few eggs. This draft was pro- 
 vokingly spoilt by an old tin kettle getting in the way of 
 the net, and rolling her up beautifully. Looking over the 
 iron bridge at Halton we saw to our great delight a lot of 
 salmon on their beds. There is a little island just below 
 the weir, and the northernmost side of this island had been 
 chosen by the salmon to deposit their eggs, the poor brutes 
 not having sense enough to know that this spot where they 
 
 
 
SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR AUSTRALIA. 61 
 
 were putting their eggs would be dry in the summer, and 
 that the eggs and fry would probably perish. 
 
 The splashing the fish made as they turned up the 
 gravel and hunted each other about was grand to behold ; 
 we could plainly see the fish hunting and driving each 
 other, and fighting as only salmon can fight. The old 
 males have terrible teeth, and inflict bad wounds when 
 fighting. When the salmon were quiet I could only see 
 the tips of their tails waving just above water, and also 
 their back fins like a forest of masts. I confess I do not 
 understand the meaning of this, as salmon do not burrow 
 with their heads, but, on the contrary, thrash up the gravel 
 with a whirl by means of their tails, the lower edges of 
 which are in consequence very often scarred and wounded. 
 
 Mr. Thompson and the water-bailiff undertook to 
 catch these fish off the spawning-beds, a difficult operation, 
 on account of the swiftness of the current, which runs very 
 fast from over the weir just above, and the artfulness of 
 the salmon. Next to a fox there is no more artful creature 
 than a salmon. His sense of sight is very great, and he 
 can hear wm the water as far as, or even farther than, we 
 can on land. 
 
 By a very cleverly arranged sweep of the net they 
 managed to enclose some of these fish, the remainder 
 scuttling away into the deep below. I was rejoiced beyond 
 measure to find in the nets three hens and one male, all 
 three hens being quite ripe. The water-bailiff assured 
 me that those fish which escaped the nets would seek 
 refuge in the pool below, so we sent back to Skerton for 
 Mr. Thompson’s big one hundred and forty yard net. 
 When this arrived we fished the pools below the weir, 
 
62 SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR AUSTRALIA. 
 
 taking altogether four draughts, with the following results : 
 —Ist, two cocks and two hens; 2nd, two cocks; 3rd, two 
 cocks and one hen; 4th, four cocks; the total number of 
 fish at Halton Weir being ten cocks an1 three hens. One 
 of the males was a magnificent fish, four feet three inches 
 long, and weighing over forty pounds. This fine fellow 
 knocked me right over with his big tail when he was 
 spluttering about on the bank. I took the greatest care 
 of him, and he swam off all right. 
 
 To me it is the greatest puzzle why the male fish 
 always preponderate over the females. Among both trout 
 and salmon there are often seven cocks to one hen, but 
 in the spring a considerable mortality takes place among 
 the male salmon, while a few females alone die a natural 
 death. | 
 
 In the case of trout, the cocks invariably bolt wp 
 stream, the hens bolt down stream. Female trout also 
 hide themselves, thrusting their noses into rat-holes and 
 any places they can find under the bank. In birds, by a 
 wonderful provision of nature, the hen generally has a coat 
 the colour of the ground upon which she sits on her nest ; 
 thus the female pheasant has feathers to suit the foliage 
 and vegetation on the ground: the male bird, on the con- 
 trary, has most resplendent feathers. I observe that by 
 the same rule the cock salmon, when at the height of 
 spawning, wears a Joseph’s coat of many colours, and the 
 purple ground, variegated with sealing-wax-red coloured 
 spots on the sides and cheeks, is very beautiful. Hence 
 in the Severn district they call them ‘old soldiers.’ The 
 hen salmon, on the contrary, wears a plain russet suit, and 
 
 
 
SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR AUSTRALIA. 63 
 
 does not often adorn herself with red spots, although I have 
 sometimes seen them on her cheeks. 
 
 As each shot of the net was drawn in, I waded deeply 
 into the water, and examined the fish swimming about inside 
 the net, in sufficient depth of water for them not to get 
 stranded, because if they touch the ground, immediately 
 they begin to knock themselves about. I caused the 
 basket to be floated on the top of the water near to the 
 spot where I had got the salmon by the wrist with my 
 right hand. Feeling where his head was with my left 
 hand, I got his head and shoulders into the bend of my 
 elbow, just as a nurse carries a baby in her arms. When 
 I found the fish had put his weight into my arms, I jerked 
 him up into the basket, and took him ashore. 
 
 It was quite dark before we finished our work, and then, 
 in order to get out of the field where we were fishing, we 
 had to go upa steep bank, through a hedge or two, and 
 over some high palings, not a pleasant job to accomplish in 
 the dark, dressed in wet waterproofs, and carrying tins 
 heavy with eggs, water, and moss. 
 
 The next morning I proceeded with Mr. Thompson 
 some twelve miles further up the river to Burrow Hall, 
 a little way beyond Hornby, my friend Mr. Fenwick, 
 chairman of the Board, having kindly invited me to try 
 my luck at his fishery. Immediately on arriving at the 
 water-side, we discovered eight or ten fish spawning on 
 the shallow, I had anticipated catching all this lot at 
 one haul in Mr. Thompson’s trammel, but as my back was 
 turned only for a moment, the local water-bailiff marched 
 straight into the river, and drove all the fish off the spawn- 
 
4 
 
 64 SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR AUSTRALIA. 
 
 ing beds ina moment. This was dreadfully aggravating, 
 as we lost all the fish off the beds, and also lost half an 
 hour in sending for another net. When it at last arrived | 
 Mr. Fenwick’s keeper managed a clever long shot of several 
 hundred yards, and we got a good haul of salmon. I 
 passed them out of the net, with the following result :— 
 Females twelve, not ripe three, nine spawned out. Males 
 five. Seventeen fish at one haul and not a single egg; 
 this was again provoking, but it could not be helped. 
 Hearing that there were fish on the spawning beds about 
 a quarter of a mile lower down, we made a long shot for 
 them, and were just congratulating ourselveson the prospect 
 of good sport, when, to my deep regret, the net suddenly 
 got on toa ‘fast. The net was swimming down beauti- 
 fully, but all of a sudden the root of a tree caught her 
 about the middle, and there she hung in two great bags. 
 
 Three men pulled the boat up to where she was fast 
 and hauled on the net, while all present pulled on the line 
 hauling up stream, but our efforts were in vain. At last, 
 by means of main force, the men in the boat pulled up 
 the net from the stump, tearing a hole big enough to let 
 a sheep through without touching. Mr. Thompson, having 
 a needle with him, quickly mended the hole, and we made 
 another long shot without touching a single fish. 
 
 It was then getting on for five o’clock, and we were a 
 long way from the carriage, but we determined to try one 
 more shot in the pool just below. In order to get to this 
 pool Mr. Thompson had to shoot the boat down a very 
 nasty rapid, but managed it admirably, and in afew minutes 
 laid the net round the pool. I could see from the corks, 
 and the feel of the ropes, that she fished well. They 
 
 
 
SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR AUSTRALIA. 65 
 
 landed her on a beautiful sloping gravel bank. The score 
 of fish was as follows: Males eleven, females nine—no less 
 than twenty fine fish. Of these two females were not ready, 
 the others had done spawning; one only gave us eggs. 
 It was past dark when we got to the village, glad enough 
 to get rest and some bread and cheese. 
 
 During the day’s fishing at Skerton the cold was some- 
 thing terrific. The wind carried freezing sleet with it. 
 They said it was called in Lancashire a ‘Robin Hood’s 
 wind,’ %.e., the only wind that Robin Hood could not 
 stand. I found it to be much warmer in the water than 
 out of it. 
 
 Having got a fair quantity of eggs I brought them to 
 London ; and Mr. Thompson kindly went out the following 
 Monday to collect more for us. The result of our fishing 
 in the Lune was altogether about 16,000 eggs. The 
 icehouse on board the s.s. ‘Durham’ was built under the 
 superintendence of Mr. James Youl. Altogether there 
 were collected about 175,000 eggs. I tell the number of 
 egos by counting them into a measure glass. There are 
 1,000 eggs in anine-ounce glass. The ‘ Durham’ sailed for 
 Melbourne punctually to her time on January 20, 1876. 
 
66 
 
 SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR NHW ZEALAND. 
 
 SALMON egg collecting is one of the most difficult, and I 
 
 may say dangerous, tasks that fall to my lot. Salmon 
 
 eggs are by no means to be picked up as easily as fowls’ 
 eggs. Those only who have gone through the difficulties 
 of collecting these treasures can know the anxiety con- 
 nected with the task. The first thing is correspondence 
 to get proper official leave, about which I am most parti- 
 cular; then follow other correspondence, telegrams, &c., 
 to fix times and places; nevertheless, in the second week 
 of January 1878, I went at it once more. The Government 
 authorities of New Zealand, having expressed by telegram 
 to Sir Julius Vogel, agent-general in London, their desire 
 to have a further consignment of salmon ova sent them 
 this spawning season, I told Sir Julius that I would do my 
 best for them, though it was late, very late, this year to 
 hope for much success. 
 
 The ship chosen to take the eggs was the *‘ Chimborazo,’ 
 a big steamer, sailing from London on January 21, direct 
 to Melbourne, the eggs to be there transhipped to New 
 Zealand. I now proceed to relate my adventures in_col- 
 lecting salmon eggs on the North Tyne. 
 
 In the collection of salmon eggs, as in every other 
 matter, the great rule is to take for granted that you will 
 find nothing anywhere ; I therefore go fully prepared for all 
 
 
 
SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR NEW ZEALAND. 67 
 
 eventualities. Here then is a list of my ‘spawning kit.’ 
 First, the waterproof dress; this very useful garment is in 
 fact a diver’s dress, and when properly put on, admits not 
 a drop of water. It has however one fault; it is apt to 
 freeze when I am out of the water, and then one feels en- 
 cased as it were in a suit of inflexible tin armour. Second, 
 the spawning tins: long experience has shown me that 
 the best form of vessel in which to spawn fish is no paltry 
 little tin, but a bath large enough to bathe a good-sized 
 baby in. ‘Third, a long shallow basket, to hold the 
 salmon immediately they are caught, such as ladies use to 
 earry their clothes when travelling; such a basket makes 
 a capital salmon cage. It is easily sunk to the proper 
 depth with stones, and the salmon live well and do not 
 fret in it. The fish can remain alive in the water in this 
 till they are wanted. I finda big ‘crinolme net’ does not 
 answer, for the fish are apt to turn on their sides, and get 
 faint ; besides, there is a difficulty in getting them in and 
 out. Fourth, house flannel cut mto lengths of one yard ; 
 this is absolutely necessary to hold the struggling salmon. 
 Those who are unaccustomed to spawn salmon, have an 
 awkward habit of putting their fingers into the gills of the 
 fish, and if the fish’s gills are injured and bleed be suffers 
 much from it. JI never tomy knowledge killed a fish in 
 my life while spawning it. Fifth, dry towels; these are 
 most necessary, as the slime from the salmon makes one’s 
 hands very slippery, and it is a very bad thing to have 
 slippery hands, for you may lose a valuable fish in a moment ; 
 besides which, wiping the hands warms them, and when 
 working in the water at this time of the year the cold to 
 the hands and arms is fearful, or, to use the expression of 
 ¥ 2 
 
68 SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR NEW ZEALAND. 
 
 the cabmen, ‘all my fingers is thumbs.’ Sixth, bottles 
 for experiments with milt and ova. Seventh, ‘Sphagnum’ — 
 moss to pack the eggs in the tins and cans. Kighth, 
 - wooden boxes tied up in threes or fours to pack the eggs at 
 the river side. Ninth, a huge landing-net. This is very 
 useful for catching fugitive fish, which may happen to escape 
 round the side of the net. Tenth, nets; one long heavy 
 trammel and two smaller trammels are best. Eleventh, 
 ordinary luggage, and especially a bottle of scented hair 
 oil with which to well anoint the chest and arms and tips 
 of the ears when working in the water, a most excellent 
 and serviceable plan. I took this hint from the Es- 
 quimaux. 
 
 Thus equipped, I started for Newcastle, writing all the 
 way in the train, of course. Arrived at Newcastle, I took 
 the train to Chollerford, where the Chairman of the North 
 Tyne Committee had kindly made all the arrangements 
 for me. The next morning a drive of eleven miles to 
 Bellingham, and thence by train to Reedsmouth. We 
 dressed ourselves in the station, and proceeded to find 
 Sergeant Harbottle, the head of the Tyne salmon watchers, 
 the water-bailiffs, and my man, Mr. Edon, who had gone 
 on before us. 
 
 The main river of the North Tyne was too heavy for 
 us, no net could possibly stand; so Harbottle had judi- 
 ciously made his first shot in the river Reed, just above her 
 junction with North Tyne. He had marked down several 
 pairs of spawners on this bed, and hoped to get the lot for 
 me. We came up just in time to see our assistants with 
 very long faces. It appeared that they had, though 
 the water was then running rapidly, got the net across, 
 
 
 
SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR NEW ZEALAND. 69 
 
 and some fish in her. Just as they were bringing her 
 round she caught on a rock, and immediately rolled ‘leads 
 over corks.’ Just at that moment there came a heavy 
 ‘spate from above. The men on the bank could not hold 
 the net, and she straightened herself out beautifully, letting 
 every fish in the net, of course, escape. We managed, 
 however, to secure three half-spawned fish, from which we 
 got a few eggs. 
 
 We then packed up the wet nets and the kit on a 
 cart, and marched off to a shallow in the North Tyne, 
 about a mile above, where we thought we might have luck. 
 During our walk thither a regular winter’s storm came on ; 
 the telegraph wires sung out their music as if laughing at 
 us, and far away in the north was a great jet-black angry- 
 looking cloud, showing that a heavy storm was gathering 
 upon the moors and great hills that separate England from 
 Scotland. We had no time to lose, as we knew the rain 
 from this cloud would soon send North Tyne down ina 
 heavy spate. Turning off the highway we passed down a 
 hill to the river bank, and then the cart with the nets 
 went across the river, while I waded over, not very 
 pleasant work in a rapid rising river, with great rolling 
 slippery boulders under one’s feet. However, we got to 
 the island, and determined to fish the stream on the other 
 side of it. There was great difficulty in getting the net 
 across, the stream was so strong and rapid. At last Har- 
 bottle and six men got her over, and then beginning some 
 sixty yards above, the trammel was run down stream to 
 her. Great was the excitement when we quickly perceived 
 from the bobbing of the corks that the fish on the spawn- 
 ing bed were ‘masked’ in the trammel. She’s a beautiful 
 
70 SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR NEW ZEALAND. 
 
 net is my trammel, though some find fault with her. She’s — 
 like birdlime toa fish; let her once touch a fish’s fin, 
 and she has the rest of him pretty quickly. Down came 
 the trammel right on to the net below in true ortho- 
 dox style. Look alive, lads, round with them both on to 
 the bank. Three fish! Instantly I was on to them as 
 they kicked about in the water. First, male; second, 
 female; third, male. The males fine big fish, with red 
 coats on them, as though they were going to a Horse 
 Guards parade, and beaks on the lower jaw enough to 
 frighten one. ‘The female, alas! had not an egg in her ; 
 had done spawning long ago. As I told Sir Julius Vogel, it 
 was very late for eggs this year, and I was right. 
 
 While I was examining these fish the river spared us 
 not, and I quickly observed that a bank of pebbles on which 
 I had just been packing eggs was covered with water. We 
 were all therefore only too anxious to be off, as along stay 
 on a desolate island for a winter’s night, in the middle of 
 the North Tyne, was not a pleasant -prospect. Several of 
 the party got into the cart; the more the safer, as the 
 cart would. be heavier in the stream, and less likely to 
 tip over. As I was waterproofed up to my neck, I walked 
 behind in the water, holding the cart-tail with one hand, 
 the precious egg-can with the other. The man whipped 
 up the horse, and he managed to drag his heavy load across 
 the river, the old cart (already over the axles in water) 
 rolling about like a ship at sea as the wheels tipped up 
 over the boulders below. 
 
 At last we got ashore all right; the cart then went 
 back for the nets and the other men, some of whom 
 waded, others rode across. My friend the chairman had 
 
 
 
SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR NEW ZEALAND, 71 
 
 brought with him a curious-looking basket, made by the 
 peasants in Germany, very handsomely worked in wicker. 
 This basket he carried on his back, like a Parisian chiffon- 
 mier. We had laughed at his basket, but we did not 
 laugh now, as he produced therefrom a capital luncheon, 
 beer, &e. 
 
 As we sat on the bank we saw the North Tyne 
 gradually rising. Lap, lap, came the little side waves 
 at our feet; the island on which we had been stand- 
 ing became smaller and smaller, and at last down came 
 North Tyne with a mighty rush; the stones which a few 
 minutes before had caused the ripples and the ‘ hovers ’ so 
 dear to salmon fishers, quickly ducked their heads under 
 water, and where there had been a loud resounding rapid 
 before, there was now a swift black deep stream, running 
 lke oil. This sudden spate was caused, of course, by 
 our friend the black storm on the hills. In this part of 
 Northumberland spates come on very quickly, owing to the 
 mountains being so steep, and the moors drained so much 
 more than they were in former years. 
 
 With the spate in the river came the storm upon us, 
 a regular spiteful gentleman, fresh from the caves of AXolus, 
 iced rain, sleet, and snow. I was cold, very cold, but 
 I would not let it be seen. I felt my wet suit of water- 
 proof gradually freezing, and becoming like a suit of ar- 
 mour, especially about the arms and throat ; so we packed 
 up and walked away as fast as we could, and got a sort of 
 shelter under a railway arch, where I managed, with the 
 help of a water-bailiff, to get off the frozen dress; and 
 then for a walk—I hate walking—into Bellingham. As 
 we went along a blacker cloud came over, and it began to 
 
72 SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR NEW ZEALAND. 
 
 snow, not in nicé heavy flakes, but little sharp cutting 
 spikes, the size of peppercorns. The howling wind drove 
 these along like a volley from an infantry regiment. 
 
 At last we arrived at Bellingham, and on our way home 
 in the dog-cart, a heavy winter snowstorm was on, and 
 kept on all night. The next morning everything, from 
 the distant hills down to the window-sills, had put on a 
 white nightcap. We could see with a telescope the river 
 tumbling over Chollerford dam in the distance. We at 
 once concluded that it would not be of the least use to 
 try for eggs, certainly not to-day, may be many days, as 
 all that snow had to melt and come down off the hills into 
 the river in the form of water. ‘ Besides, Buckland,’ said 
 my host, ‘ you’re a fortnight or three weeks too late to get 
 the run of spawning salmon off the ridds.’ ‘ Yes,’ I said, 
 ‘I know that ; but when Sir Julius and the New Zealanders 
 say ‘‘ Go and try,” of course I must go and try.’ 
 
 So I packed up, waited half a day at a country rail- 
 way station, and got that night to Carlisle, to try what my 
 old friends the salmon in the river Caldew had to say. 
 
 At Carlisle station Sergeant Nicholson, head water- 
 bailiff of the Eden salmon watchers, was awaiting me. 
 Nicholson assured me that there were plenty of salmon in 
 the Caldew, and that the water was nice and low. The 
 Caldew is a little river that runs into the Eden just below 
 Carlisle. The Eden Board of Conservators had allowed 
 me to fish here. As in fox-hunting a knowledge of Mr. 
 Fox’s ‘little game’ is necessary, so in salmon matters 
 a special knowledge of the times and seasons of those 
 silent but artful rascals, the salmon, is indispensable. 
 It is a known fact that salmon, if left alone, will attempt 
 
 
 
SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR NEW ZEALAND. 73 
 
 to stock a river, more or less, from top to bottom. The 
 largest salmon are always the last to spawn, and they 
 spawn much lower down the river than their juniors, who 
 go to the higher waters. 
 
 Knowing this fact, I concluded it was most probable 
 that the heavy fish of the Eden would run up the Caldew 
 to spawn. The Caldew is a pretty little river with fine 
 spawning tributaries, but it is completely blocked about 
 a mile and a half from the Eden by a weir, over which, I 
 trust, a pass will one day be made. I told Nicholson to 
 be waiting for me at the hotel with nets, and to be ready 
 to start with me as soon as it was light the next morning. 
 
 After a time we arrived at the weir, where I was met 
 by the occupier of the mill. Near the mill is a suspension 
 bridge over the river; under the bridge is a very deep hole. 
 Looking downwards from the bridge we could see some 
 huge salmon gently balancing themselves in mid-water. 
 I at once held a consultation as to how to catch these 
 gentlemen. Flinging a rope across the river, we got the 
 big trammel into the edge of the pool where the water 
 began to shallow. Nicholson and I then ran the small 
 trammel through the pool. We touched one heavy fish, 
 for I felt the cork line go tug, but the meshes of the 
 trammel were, I suppose, too small to hold him or her. 
 
 By that time a considerable number of idlers had 
 assembled. I do not like idlers of any sort, and at once 
 began to make use of them, setting them to work to stone 
 the pool. We did this for about five minutes, and sent 
 into the pool a continuous volley of stones, to drive out 
 the salmon on to the shallow below; but these ‘ water- 
 foxes’ knew what we were after, quite as well as we knew 
 
74 SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR NEW ZEALAND. 
 
 ourselves. ‘Come out of the pool.’ ‘No, thank you, a 
 not so long as that net is at the hall door,’ said they to 
 
 themselves. It was no go. SoI determined to send my 
 
 trammel through the hole. She behaved very well, sailing 
 steadily down. Not a fish; the rascals had all disap- 
 peared, like frightened rats in a barn, under the great 
 shelves of rock in the pool. We then determined to try 
 the pool underneath the weir, just above the bridge. 
 With great difficulty Nicholson and I managed to get the | 
 net across the apron of the weir, over which the water was 
 running pretty swiftly. The stones at the sides of the 
 weir, being varnished with ice, were very slippery, the 
 board of the apron of the weir being like glass itself. We 
 managed, however, to get the net across with only the 
 loss of my big landing-net, which is now somewhere at 
 the bottom of the pool. This was a pretty narrow escape 
 for me; either I or the landing-net must have gone. I 
 gave the landing-net the preference. About two minutes 
 after the net had been in, the corks and the splash showed 
 that there was a fish in her. I halted the men at once, 
 and went in directly up to my armpits. In the middle 
 of the trammel was a lovely female; she had got the out- 
 side string of the trammel into her gills, and this held 
 her nicely for me. Alas! she was done, not a single egg 
 in her. I let her go, and she left a tremendous wake 
 behind her, as the poor frightened fish scuttled back into 
 her pool. She weighed about 18 or 19 lbs. 
 
 We then decided to try the Factory shallows, some 
 half-mile below. 
 
 The success of salmon egg collecting depends upon 
 very small circumstances. 
 
 
 
SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR NEW ZEALAND. 75 
 
 _ Looking over the river bank towards the Factory pool, 
 what should I see but an old woman standing on the bank 
 just in the very middle of this happy spawning-ground. 
 The old woman was picking stones out of the river bed 
 with a sort of curved pitchfork ; she had a huge petticoat, 
 under which probably pockets existed, so that without 
 doubt she often picked out other things from the river 
 besides stones. I am sure that old woman was a salmon 
 poacher with a stick in her pocket, and tapes round her 
 waist on which to hang under her petticoats the salmon 
 she gaffed. Stone-picking of course had driven away 
 any fish that might have been on these beds. A curious- 
 looking party was this old woman, and when I came home 
 I found her portrait in my little marmoset, only the little. 
 monkey is much prettier than this horrible old Cumber- 
 land native. 
 
 In spite of the old woman’s kind operations, we took a 
 shot with the net at the shallows, below where she had 
 been picking stones. We got two fish, a splendid male, 
 as strong as an ox, difficult to handle, and a lady fish, who 
 had evidently sent out her cards, with ‘ thanks for kind 
 enquiries.’ And here I found the great use of my big 
 wicker basket for carrying ladies’ ball dresses. Thrown 
 into the river from above, it floated down nicely. 
 Nicholson, opening the lid, shook Mr. Salmo Salar out of 
 the net into it without once touching him. This basket 
 makes, in fact, a splendid salmon-cage, where the ‘beasts,’ 
 as the Tay fishermen call them, can be kept all right in 
 mid-stream without a possibility of escape, and in which 
 they can be handled with much greater facility than with 
 a ‘crinoline net’ or a landing-net. After a consultation 
 
76 SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR NEW ZEALAND. 
 
 we agreed it was of no use going on any more, as the fish 
 we had caught showed us the spawning season in the 
 Caldew was already over; so we ‘up nets,’ and made for 
 the station just in time to catch the last fast train to 
 London. . 
 
 As the Avon, Devon, is one of the latest of English 
 rivers, as a last chance I sent Edon there, and a day or 
 two later I received a telegram saying that he had achieved 
 great success at Kingsbridge, near Plymouth, and would 
 be home by the night mail. Very early the next morning 
 Mr. Edon appeared at Albany Street with a can, and with 
 a face radiant with joy. With triumph he opened the can, 
 and showed me such a lovely lot of salmon eggs, with an 
 iridescent rich bloom on them like a ripe Hamburgh 
 grape. 
 
 The first shot of the net had produced sixteen salmon ; 
 among these were three males and two females, from 
 which he procured the splendid lot of eggs he had in the 
 can. The eggs ran out of the fish like shot out of a shot 
 belt ; in fact, they were very ripe, and could not possibly 
 have been in better condition. What luck! 
 
 On his arrival at Albany Street, all hands immediately 
 set to work to pack eggs. Captain Smith kindly came up 
 from the New Zealand Office from Sir Julius Vogel. He 
 told me he had room in the ship for eighteen boxes of 
 eggs. By one o’clock we had packed the eighteen boxes, 
 got them into a van, and were just starting for the West 
 India Docks, where the ‘ Chimborazo’ lies, when Mr. Capel, 
 of the Cray Fishery, Foots Cray, arrived with a box con- 
 taining fifteen hundred trout eggs, which he had taken 
 from a fish of about one pound anda half weight, some , 
 
 
 
SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR NEW ZEALAND. 77 
 
 four hours previously. These eggs were presented by 
 Mr. Capel, in answer to a request made by a New Zealand 
 correspondent some few weeks before. 
 
 Just before it got dark we arrived, all of us riding in 
 triumph in a one-horse van through Whitechapel, at the 
 ‘Chimhborazo,’ in the West India Docks. On the deck 
 was Captain Hall, who received us with great cordiality. 
 The ‘ Chimborazo’ is an enormous vessel, 388 feet long, 
 42 feet wide, and 2,500.tons, 500 nominal horse-power, 
 _ working up to 3,000. Sailing on Monday, January 21, 
 she hopes to get to Melbourne on Tuesday, March 5, or 
 in about forty-three days, it may be less. At the building 
 of the Tower of Babel of old, there could not have been, 
 I am sure, a more busy scene than the loading of the 
 ‘Chimborazo’ in the West India Dock, but yet there was 
 no noise and no confusion. The men would work all night. 
 Huge barges of coals were lying on each side loading ; 
 and I am told that her furnaces will eat a thousand tons 
 of coals between here and Melbourne. 
 
 Everybody carrying a box or two of eggs, we arrived at 
 the icehouse on board ship. Captain Smith opened it, 
 and when I looked in I perceived that a portion of the 
 bottom was covered with boxes of eggs and ice. These 
 were Mr. Youl’s boxes, that he had packed some three 
 or four days previously. Searle and myself bundled 
 through the ‘man-hole’ of the icehcuse. Captain Smith 
 handed us the boxes of eggs, and Searle and I shifted with 
 the ice-axes and ice-forks the great slippery blocks of ice on 
 to the top of our own boxes, filling up the interstices with 
 broken bits. When we first got into the icehouse it was 
 jolly cold, but we were so busy shifting the blocks of ice 
 
78 SALMON EGG COLLECTING FOR NEW ZEALAND. 
 
 that we soon had no time to be cold. The dimensions of a 
 
 the icehouse were 10 ft. by 7 ft. and 6 ft. It will hold 
 ten tons of ice, which will be packed on the top of the 
 boxes. I am glad Sir Julius has taken my advice, and 
 has utilised the icehouse of the ship. At my very first 
 interview with him I told him I had for many years thought 
 that the cost and labour of building a huge icehouse to 
 carry salmon eggs might be saved if arrangements could 
 be made to utilise the ordinary icehouses of Australian 
 
 ships. I am now convinced that my plan of packing the ~ 
 
 eggs in the ship’s icehouse, when it can be properly done, 
 is a good one. Expense is thereby saved, and should the 
 experiment prove successful there will be little difficulty in 
 sending salmon eggs every winter to Australia and New 
 Zealand—a consummation of our labour in which my friend 
 Mr. James Youl and myself have been deeply interested 
 for so many years past. 
 
 We trust these English salmon eggs may be the parents 
 of many salmon which in future years may become estab- 
 
 lished at the Antipodes, to the great increase of the wealth 
 
 and prosperity of our good friends in New Zealand. 
 I calculate the number of salmon eggs packed in the 
 eighteen boxes to be over twenty thousand. 
 
 
 
 J 
 
JOHN HUNTERS CHAIR—EHAT AND BE HATEN. 
 
 JOHN HUNTER was, in my opinion, one of the greatest 
 men, if not the very greatest, England ever produced. 
 For this cause any reminiscence or relic that belonged to 
 or was connected with him becomes to me an object of 
 reverence and extraordinary value. Some years ago my 
 respected master, Professor Owen, promised me, to my 
 delight, that he would give me the bedstead which once 
 belonged to John Hunter. 
 
 The kind-hearted Professor has now been so generous 
 as to confide this relic to my hands. It arrived as a 
 present to me on my last birthday. The bedstead con- 
 sisted of two fluted front posts and two square back posts, 
 besides the wooden skeleton which formed this regular 
 old-fashioned four-poster. 
 
 The limbs of this bedstead lay for a long time in my 
 room until the guwas7-Hunterian presence should indicate 
 to me what to do with it. One morning the inspiration 
 came all of a moment, and I cried out, ‘ Eureka! I know 
 what to do with it—I’ll make it into a chair.’ So then 
 and there I measured out the bedstead, calculated the 
 depth, height, weight, size of its limbs and ribs, and at 
 once left off all other work, got a good saw, and cut it up 
 so as to make a chair. 
 
4 
 
 80 JOHN HUNTER’S CHAIR. 
 
 Wishing to complete the job, I tried to finish off the 
 chair, but was beaten, as I had not the proper cabinet- 
 maker’s tools; so I sent for a working dealer in old furni- 
 ture. I thoroughly impressed upon him the importance 
 and value of the charge entrusted to his care, and 
 seeing my anxiety about it, he has made really a most 
 excellent job of it. The chair was completed September 
 22, 1879. 
 
 Thinking that the chair, now ready for use, ought to 
 have a proper official inauguration, I asked my old friend 
 Dr. Wadham, of Park Lane, physician to St. George’s 
 Hospital (who had been selected by the staff to preside 
 at the annual dinner, which always takes place on the 
 Ist of October at Willis’s Rooms), to occupy it as the 
 presidential chair on that occasion. To this he most 
 kindly and readily assented, and delivered from this 
 Hunterian throne one of his usual eloquent addresses to 
 his colleagues and the old students there assembled. As 
 we all know, John Hunter was surgeon to St. George’s 
 Hospital; and in the board-room of that institution he 
 died, October 16, 1793. 
 
 Previously to the chair being sent for Dr. Wadham’s 
 use, I recollected the solemn admonition of John Hunter 
 himself to his assistant, Mr. Clift, handed down from Clift 
 to Professor Owen, from Professor Owen to Professor 
 Quekett, and enforced upon me by my father, namely, 
 ‘ Label everything.’ I therefore had a brass plate fixed in 
 an artistic style to the chair, in such a position that no 
 one can sit down without seeing the inscription, which is 
 
 as follows :— 
 
 
 
JOHN HUNTER’S CHAIR. 81 
 
 THIS CHAIR 
 IS MADE FROM THE BEDSTEAD OF 
 
 JOHN HUNTER, 
 
 BoRN FEBRUARY 13, 1728. DIED OCTOBER 16, 1793. 
 BURIED AT ST. MARTIN-IN-THE-FIELDS, CHARING CROSS. 
 
 RE-INTERRED 
 WESTMINSTER ABBEY, 1859. 
 
 It was first used by Dr. Wadham, president at the 
 annual dinner, St. George’s Hospital, October 1, 1879. 
 The bedstead was given to me by Professor Owen, F.R.S., 
 &e., who writes,— 
 
 ‘This is a genuine relic of John Hunter. Mr. W. Clift 
 bought it at the sale of the furniture in Leicester Square. It 
 
 is the frame of the bedstead on which John Hunter lay when 
 brought from St. George’s Hospital.’ 
 
 Frank Buckland, M.A., M.R.C.S., 
 Inspector of Fisheries; House Surgeon, a.p. 1851. 
 
 Besides the inscription I have affixed to the chair a 
 photograph of the bust of John Hunter which is now at 
 the north-east corner of Leicester Square, near the house 
 where he lived, and a photograph of the statue which 
 stands in the centre of the Museum of the College of 
 Surgeons. This statue was erected by subscription on the 
 occasion when John Hunter’s remains were transferred to 
 Westminster Abbey. It is by the late Mr. Weeks, and is 
 a copy in marble of the celebrated picture of John Hunter 
 in the council-room of the college, by Sir Joshua Reynolds. 
 If my readers have not seen this statue, they certainly 
 should ; it must be a living likeness of this great man, of 
 whom I now give a description from the ‘ Life of Hunter,’ 
 by Jesse Foot, published in 1794. 
 
 ‘John Hunter was about the middle stature; he was 
 
 G 
 
- 82 JOHN HUNTERS CHAIR. 
 
 rather robust, but not corpulent. His shoulders were 
 broad and high, and his neck remarkably short. His 
 features were hard, cheeks high, eyes small and light, 
 eyelashes yellow, and the bony arch protruded; his mouth 
 was somewhat underhung. He wore his hair curled 
 behind. His dress was plain and none of the neatest. 
 He was frequently seen to smile in conversation, but it 
 was generally provoked from a ridiculous or satirical 
 motive.’ | 
 
 It is recorded that when Hunter’s portrait was placed 
 before Lavater the physiognomist, after deep study he 
 exclaimed, ‘ That man thinks for himself,’ | 
 
 I now give short extracts from various Hunterian 
 Orations. The Hunterian Oration is annually delivered 
 in the theatre of the Royal College of Surgeons on John 
 Hunter’s birthday, namely, February 14. 
 
 _ Abernethy says of him, ‘ Profoundly contemplative, his 
 mind had not been taught to act in imitation of others, 
 he disliked to read as much as he liked to think.’ 
 
 Cline records, ‘Much as he did, he thought still 
 more. He often told Mrs. Cline that his delight was to 
 think.’ 
 
 Travers writes, ‘He was capable of large and com- 
 prehensive views of natural phenomena, and endowed with 
 a microscopic faculty of seizing and analysing constituent 
 parts and bearings.’ 
 
 In the life of Hunter, by Sir William Jardine, ‘ Nat, 
 Library,’ vol. iv., we read: ‘ He was in no small degree 
 indebted to the friendship of Sir Joseph Banks, who 
 not only allowed him to take any of his own specimens, 
 but procured him every curious animal production in 
 
 
 
JOHN HUNTER’S CHAIR. 83 
 
 his power, and afterwards divided betwixt him and the 
 British Museum all the specimens of the animals he had 
 collected in his voyage round the world.’ 
 
 The Museum of the Royal College of Surgeons in 
 Lincoln’s Inn Fields is, 1 fear, for the most part regarded 
 by the general public as consisting of a collection of all 
 the horrors of nature, of deformities, monstrosities, and 
 malformations, both human and animal, so collected and 
 arranged as to form an enlarged ‘Chamber of Horrors,’ 
 rivalling that in Madame Tussaud’s exhibition. Some 
 fifty years ago, before science had dissipated the clouds 
 of vulgar ignorance which then obscured the public mind, 
 I believe the museum was more or less calculated to 
 inspire feelings of dread and sensations of discomfort. 
 In the present day however we are all better educated ; 
 the days of the gold-caned and white-wigged physician 
 have passed away; no longer does the pseudo-learned 
 doctor open the top of his gold-headed cane to smell in 
 a graceful manner the aromatic powder therein contained, 
 for the purpose of keeping off infection. Nay, rather has 
 the learned professor of the present day exchanged his 
 smelling-cane for the microscope, his gold snuff-box for 
 his stethoscope, and his wig of learning for the consider- 
 ing cap of severe study and acute observation. 
 
 Hunter—the great and immortal John Hunter, whose 
 remains, through my humble exertions, I feel proud to say, 
 now rest in honour in Westminster Abbey, instead of being 
 consigned to an ignominious and obscure corner ina crowded 
 London vault—was indeed, as a physiologist and surgeon, 
 one of the greatest men this country ever produced. I 
 say this advisedly. The great men of the world are for 
 
 G 2 
 
84 JOHN HUNTERS CHAIR. ~ > 
 
 the most part generals, statesmen, lawyers, &c., and we 
 all admire them for the benefits they have conferred upon 
 human civilisation; but to the sick man writhing in 
 agony from the fierce sting of a cruel and remorseless 
 disease, who is the great man? To whom does he look 
 for human assistance but to the man of science; the 
 student of Nature who has deeply investigated the laws 
 of health and disease, and has arranged and practically 
 applied them to the alleviation of human misery and 
 suffering? John Hunter therefore as the founder of the 
 system of modern surgery, and the discoverer of many of 
 Nature’s sanitary laws, may be justly regarded as one of 
 the greatest benefactors to the human race. The dis- 
 coveries of Hunter were not made in a moment; the 
 conclusions he came to were not arrived at without vast 
 labour of both mind and body. Nature is jealous of her 
 seerets—nay, very jealous ; always a witness to the truth, 
 she gives her evidence only under very severe cross- 
 questioning and cross-examination. In his investigation 
 of disease therefore John Hunter was not unfrequently 
 
 foiled, and could obtain no answer from the subject 
 
 before him; it was then his custom to call another 
 witness, and if he could not get at his fact directly, he 
 would indirectly. The human stomach, the great cook- 
 shop of the human system, refused in many instances to 
 inform the enquirer how she prepared the flesh of animals, 
 the leaves of vegetables, and the products of the mineral 
 kingdom, and formed therefrom dishes and entrées which 
 should be palatable to the absorbent and form good blood, 
 invigorating the mental powers and building up anew the 
 body of man, whose construction is, as the Psalmist says, 
 
 
 
JOHN HUNTER’S CHAIR, 85 
 
 so fearful and wonderful. Hunter therefore was in the 
 habit of getting at the secrets of the chef de cuisine by 
 calling at the minor cooking restaurants, asking a question 
 here and a question there. He enquired of the cow why 
 she had a double stomach—a front kitchen and a back 
 kitchen ; of the camel, why he carried a system of watere 
 works whose supply was at command at any moment 
 within his gigantic thistle digester. He asked the horse 
 why he had such a small stomach and such large in- 
 testines; the sheep, why such a large stomach and such 
 small intestines. He saw in the gizzard and crop of the 
 bird a machine which performed not only the duties of 
 digestion, but also of a crusher and mincemeat maker. 
 The entrails of fish (to others an abomination) became to 
 him samples of another mode of Nature’s operations ; and 
 thus he went down and down in the links of created beings 
 till at last the lowest link of all was before him. And of 
 what did that consist? A stomach, a simple stomach—a 
 stomach unprovided with eyes, arms, legs, or brain, but 
 yet—oh! strange to say—having the power which other 
 stomachs higher in the system have not—namely, the 
 power of knowing and choosing what is good or bad for 
 their digestion. 
 
 In his investigations into the functions of digestion 
 and other functions of the animal kingdom, Hunter 
 collected a vast museum, an assemblage of bottled facts, 
 which no human philosophy can deny, no ideal metaphy- 
 sicians clispute or question. 
 
 By his will, John Hunter directed this museum to be 
 offered in the first instance to the British Government, 
 and in the year 1799 Parliament voted the sum of 15,0001. 
 
86 JOHN HUNTER’S CHAIR. 
 
 for the purchase, and an offer being made of the museum 
 
 to the Corporation of Surgeons, it was accepted on the terms — 3 
 
 proposed by the Government. An admirable synopsis of 
 the contents can be obtained of the porter at the college, 
 price sixpence; we learn from this that there were in 
 1875 40,701 specimens. Great facilities are given by 
 the council of the college to visitors who wish to study. 
 
 Since Hunter’s death, to the great credit of the nation 
 and its rulers, this magnificent collection has been kept 
 up, added to, and fostered under the care of Mr. Clift, 
 my friend Professor Owen, the late lamented Professor 
 Quekett, and the present able and industrious curator, 
 Professor Flower. From the utmost parts of the world, 
 habited and uninhabited, come monthly and yearly, as 
 if by intuitive instinct, all that is rare curious and in- 
 structive in the animal kingdom, each to add its quota 
 of information towards the elucidation of what Nature 
 does in her private laboratories. 
 
 Passing into this glorious museum, we ask ourselves 
 upon what order and plan are all these miscellaneous 
 objects arranged. On entering, we find immediately upon 
 our left specimens of the tissues and skeletons of plants, 
 upon our right specimens of dried humanity—mummies 
 from the catacombs of Egypt, from London churchyards, 
 and from the museums of ancient quack doctors. Between 
 these two limits are galleries full to plenitude of all 
 intermediate forms of animal life, some miles of glass 
 preparation bottles, and some acres of dried specimens. 
 Examining these as we walk along, the idea strikes us to 
 ask ourselves what general law governed all these various 
 creatures when in life ?—-why were they created, and why 
 
 
 
EAT AND BE EATEN. 87 
 
 did they live? The answer is simple and easy. The 
 great law of nature, to which all living things must 
 
 submit, is, ‘Eat and be eaten ;’ 
 
 and in conformity with 
 this law are all animal machines contrived and made to 
 work. The plant eats decayed vegetable and animal 
 substances; the herbivorous animals eat the plants; the 
 carnivorous eat the herbivorous; man, as lord of all, lays 
 his claim of power upon all and over all. 
 
 We therefore find that all animals may be well called 
 eating machines. Looking at them as simple machines, 
 we find the ultimate object of their structure is to procure 
 food, and so admirable is this structure that every part 
 of the body is in harmony with its neighbour, so much so 
 that one single bone will tell the comparative anatomist — 
 what the rest of the body must have been like; what its 
 food must have therefore been, and thence what the ex- 
 ternal conditions necessary for its well-being in life; and 
 these rules become of the greatest importance to the 
 researches of the geologist, who by the application of 
 these laws is frequently enabled from a single fossil bone 
 to draw a picture of animal life as it mwst have existed 
 in the times long past when this earth was yet. in its 
 infancy. 
 
 We place the skull of a deer and of a tiger side by 
 side, and compare them. The teeth are the objects that 
 first strike us as presenting the most marked differences. 
 In the deer we have the front teeth made for nipping 
 grass, boughs of trees, &c., and the hind teeth beautifully 
 constructed for the comminution of the same. Not so in 
 the tiger; here the teeth are mightily different. The 
 great canines grin savagely at us; they are bayonets, 
 
88 EAT AND BE EATEN. 
 
 daggers, and Hesh-hooks combined ; sharp are their points, 
 cutting their edges. We open the gaping jaws, we find 
 the back teeth set like scissors, so as to bite up crude 
 masses of blood-stained flesh. The deer is an herbivorous 
 animal, the tiger a carnivorous. The teeth of the deer 
 would be useless to the queen of the jungle. The fangs 
 of the tiger placed in the mouth of the deer would cause 
 its death by starvation. We now walk to the cabinet 
 where the skeletons are arranged. We see here the 
 skeleton of the deer made with the utmost lightness 
 consistent with strength; we find that it is constructed 
 for swiftness in flight and bird-like speed. The bones of 
 the tiger are, on the contrary, like bars of iron, solid, 
 massive, firm in their structure. The horn-covered toes 
 are no longer suited for flight, but in the form of claws 
 are elongated into curved, sharp-pointed hooks, not fitted 
 for continuous running, but rather for seizing and holding 
 a living prey. Yet observe the pad at the sole of the 
 foot—how noiselessly, how quietly do these cushions of 
 natural velvet carry the destroyer within reach of the 
 destroyed! How marvellous is the elasticity of this 
 mighty framework of gigantic osseous strength ! 
 
 We next go to the gallery where various forms of eyes 
 are displayed. What a difference do we behold! The 
 beautiful dark-coloured open eye of the timid deer enables 
 it to see its enemy from afar, and to ramble in midday 
 in search of luxuriant pastures. The eye of the tiger is 
 that of-a nocturnal animal. It has a most wonderful 
 mechanism for making the best use of the scanty rays 
 of light from the moon or from the rising or setting sun. 
 It is fierce, cruel in its aspect. Pity it knows not; once 
 
 
 
EAT AND BE EATEN. 89 
 
 fixed on its prey it is deadly and glaring till its appetite 
 is satisfied with fresh blood. Let us now examine the 
 stomachs of these two animals. That of the deer is 
 formed in a complex manner for the digestion of vegetables. 
 It is a natural hayloft, so formed that there shall be a 
 receptacle, a meal-bag, for containing the collected food 
 when the animal is at pasture. Besides the bag, we find 
 a true digesting stomach, which shall be called into 
 operation when the owner is in safety and able to eat its 
 dinner in peace and quiet. The stomach of the tiger, on 
 the contrary, is a simple bag, a mere receptacle and 
 digester of the flesh it devours. The cook who presides 
 over it is a ‘plain cook,’ serving up ‘simple joints.’ The 
 deer’s stomach has a complicated larder and a grand array 
 of stew-pans, over which a ‘professed cook’ presides, 
 sending up the crude food, not sufficiently comminuted 
 by the teeth, back again into the mouth to receive an 
 extra mincing by the process which is called ‘ chewing 
 the cud.’ 
 
 Thus then we see that these two animals are broad 
 examples of structure being always in conformity with the 
 food of the animal. The business of the deer is to eat 
 herbs; his whole anatomy is constructed in conformity 
 to this end; his limbs enable him to seek his food, his 
 teeth to procure it, his stomach to digest it. So with 
 the tiger, his teeth are carnivorous, his claws carnivorous, 
 his stomach carnivorous. 
 
 Throughout the whole series of the animal kingdom 
 we find this law prevailing. Watch a dog, a cat, an 
 elephant, a flea; what seems to be the one idea in these 
 creatures’ heads? To eat, to sleep, and to eat again. 
 
90 . EAT AND BE EATEN. 
 
 The dog is most friendly to his master, and shows him the 
 greatest attention, when dinner is on the table; the cat 
 is most lively and most complacent when she hears the 
 well-known tread of the cat’s-meat man in the street, and 
 at the words ‘ Méét, méét,’ carries her tail erect and in a 
 
 true cat-like manner... The elephant is a terrible mendi- 
 
 cant, always supplicating alms with outstretched trunk. 
 The flea takes his supper of human blood when the sleeper 
 retires for the night, and rouses him again at early morn 
 when his insect stomach craves for breakfast. All these 
 creatures are constructed with the object they have 
 principally in view. The trunk of the elephant tears 
 down the luxuriant vegetation of the jungle; the trunk 
 (or piercer) of the flea sips its food from the skin of the 
 most savoury mortal it can discover in a day’s hopping, be 
 he lord or serf. | 
 Over John Hunter’s grave in the north aisle of West- 
 minster Abbey, close to the stone bearing the inscription 
 
 ‘O Rare Ben Jonson,’ is the following inscription deeply o> : 
 
 cut in brass :—‘ The Royal College of Surgeons of Eng- 
 land have placed this tablet over the grave of John — 
 Hunter to record their admiration of his genius as the 
 gifted interpreter of the Divine Power and Wisdom at 
 work in the laws of organic life, and their grateful venera- 
 tion for his services to mankind as the founder of scientific 
 surgery.’ 
 
 
 
91 
 
 TALKING-FISH, EYES OF MUMMY, ANTIQUITIES 
 FROM PERU. 
 
 WHEN staying at the Elephant Hotel at Newtown in Wales, 
 in May 1875, Mr. Charles Thomas, of Newtown, was good 
 enough to call upon me in order to show me what he 
 called his ‘talking-fish.’ I candidly confess that his 
 curiosity was entirely new to me. On opening the box 
 which contained this treasure, Mr. Thomas produced a 
 double jug. Each jug is somewhat of the shape of an or- 
 dinary toilet water-bottle; the two jugs are united at the 
 base by a junction very like that which united the Siamese 
 Twins, and the bottles are again united by a kind of handle 
 that passes between them at the top. The top of one of 
 the bottles is plain, the top of the other is rudely fashioned 
 to represent the head of a seal. Mr. Thomas poured 
 water into the bottle which has the open mouth, and 
 gently turned the water in the bottles from side to side; 
 he then stood them on the table, and from the seal’s 
 mouth immediately proceeded a cry amazingly like that 
 of a seal. It sounded something like this: ‘Ma-maar- 
 mamaar-mam-a-ma-a-a-a-r.’ The same effect was produced 
 by emptying the water out and simply blowing into the 
 bottle. I have no idea how this sound is produced, neither 
 
92 EYES OF MUMMY. 
 
 has Mr. Thomas. Of course there must be some kind of 
 whistle in one of the bottles, but where it is and how it 
 works we cannot tell, nothing being visible from the 
 outside. 
 
 Seeing I was interested by his talking-fish, Mr. Thomas 
 said he thought he could puzzle me again with another 
 curiosity in the ‘Powis Land Museum,’ at Welshpool. 
 Mr. Thomas was quite right, for he did puzzle me again. 
 He showed me there some very remarkable thimbie-shaped 
 bodies, which would be well represented if the top of one’s 
 little finger were cut off at the root of the nail, and stood 
 on the table. These remarkable objects were, he said, 
 the eyes of mummves, and were found in the shrunken 
 skin of the eyes of dried mummies of the ancient Peruvians 
 at Areca; when the mummies were handled, these ob- 
 jects were found loose in the cavity of the eye. They are 
 conical in shape, with a flattened base; they are of a dark 
 amber colour, and, in fact, very like amber. On holding 
 them up to the sun the light is concentrated as by a lens, 
 so that a brilliant spot, like a speck of flame, appears just 
 where the centre of the eye would come ina human being. 
 When inserted in the mummy these eyes must have a 
 ghastly effect. The section shown naturally at the base 
 presented a laminated appearance, like an onion; and a 
 small portion when burnt showed that they were decidedly 
 formed of some animal matter. The structure was very 
 like that of the crystalline lens of the human eye, which 
 when hardened in alcohol splits into three segments, each 
 of which is again separated into layers, leaving a central 
 nucleus. 
 
 
 
ANTIQUITIES FROM PERU. 93 
 
 Notwithstanding the structure of these dried substances 
 found in the eyes of Peruvian mummies so much re- 
 sembled that of the lens of the human eye, I was inclined to 
 think that they were really the bisected lenses of some fish. 
 
 By subsequent investigation I ascertained beyond doubt 
 that these curious objects are the lenses from the eyes 
 of cuttle-fish. Collectors of Peruvian antiquities, please 
 examine your collections. 7 
 
 Mr. Thomas has resided for upwards of the last twenty- 
 five years in Peru, both in the interior and on the coast. 
 He has travelled: and explored a great deal, and has 
 brought home with him a large collection of prehistoric 
 pottery, which is now in the Powis Land Museum at Welsh- 
 pool. I know nothing about pottery, but I should think © 
 there are some rare treasures in this collection. The 
 shapes of the vases and jugs are most artistic and elegant ; 
 they are made of clay or earthenware, and are very light. 
 Nearly all are in some way connected with animals ; some 
 are in the actual shape of animals; others have figures of 
 animals worked into their substance, such as parrots, mon- 
 keys, lizards, toads, fish, pelicans, &c. 
 
 Mr. Thomas also showed me a leather-cutting knife 
 (modern, of course). The handle of it is hollow and inlaid 
 with beautiful filigree work. In the hollow are placed 
 little portions of metal, which tinkle as the knife is moved. 
 The object of this is, I am told, that the master may know 
 whether the workman is going on using his knife, or 
 whether he has laid it down in idleness. In Mr. Thomas’s 
 collection are also some very remarkable wooden staves, 
 carved with grotesque figures. They look like staves of 
 
Dts ANTIQUITIES FROM PERU, is: 
 
 
 
 
 islands to the south of Truxillo, on the coast a ie 4 
 Altogether, Mr. Thomas’s collection is most interesting. a 
 
 The Powis Land Museum also contains a fine collec- 4 
 tion of local antiquities and works of art. re 
 
 “a 
 7 as, 4 
 oe 
 
 
 
95 
 
 MY TAME OTTERS. 
 
 Mr. Matrutas Dunn, of Mevagissey, Cornwall, informed 
 me, in February 1873, that there were two young otters 
 for sale, which had been caught by fishermen on the 
 Cornish coast, while rowing along the sea-shore in a small 
 boat, going to their crab-grounds. When off a high 
 cliff the men saw two young otters taking their morning 
 bath in a quiet inlet; the otters instantly made for the 
 shore, and quickly hid themselves under a jutting rock. 
 One of the men landed, got hold of them and brought 
 them into the boat, and tied them fast with a strong 
 cord. When these youngsters found their liberty gone, 
 they set up a very shrill noise, whistling would hardly 
 express the name of the sound. The men were about 
 to resume their work, when, more than 150 yards away 
 along the coast, they saw the dam making directly for 
 them, and lay on their oars to notice the effects of the 
 screams of the young on the parent otter, expecting the 
 mother to show the white feather. She swam, however, 
 boldly up to the boat, and tried to climb into it, but its 
 height out of the water prevented her from doing so. 
 Three times the otter made the attempt to mount the 
 sides of the boat, and each time failed. 
 
 The affectionate and plucky mother was eventually 
 killed, and her two young ones brought ashore. As soon 
 
9G MY TAME OTTERS. 
 
 as I heard of their capture, I determined to secure the 
 pretty creatures for the Brighton Aquarium. 
 
 The two poor motherless baby otters arrived at Albany 
 Street about twelve o’clock on a very cold day, the parcels _ 
 delivery man having kindly carried them about London ~ 
 for nearly three hours. They were in a large hamper, 
 with some straw. I found the little things curled up like 
 the « babes in the wood,’ and their pretty little bright eyes 
 looked up at me imploringly, as much as to say, ‘ Please 
 do not hurt us; we are dreadfully frightened, hungry 
 and sleepy, and we have lost our mother.’ Knowing that 
 otters cannot do long without water, I put into their basket a 
 basin of water, and they drank greedily of it. I then sent — 
 for some sprats, and was delighted to find that they would 
 take them out of my hand. Altogether they ate nearly 
 half a pound of sprats between them. Not willing to trust 
 anybody to take my prizes to Brighton, I determined to 
 see them safely thither myself. A four-wheel cab not being 
 available at the moment, I put them in their basket 
 between the doors of a hansom. On arriving at Victoria 
 station, after taking my ticket, I looked at the otters to 
 see how they were getting on. I was horrified to find one 
 lying on his back, apparently dead, while the other looked 
 by mo means so fresh as I could have wished. I had a bit 
 of a shindy with the porter, who wanted to put my basket 
 in the guard’s van. If this had been done both the otters 
 would probably have perished between London and 
 Brighton. I therefore appealed to his humanity, showed 
 him the poor little otters, and asked him where I could 
 find a fire. He then kindly showed me into the waiting- 
 room, and lighted the burners of the gas stove. I put the 
 basket with the otters on the top of the stove, and 
 
 
 
MY TAME OTTERS. 97 
 
 turned up the gas as high as I dared without burning the 
 animals: still the poor sick otter did not move, but the 
 other one got better. I then sent the man to explain 
 the circumstances to the superintendent, and get his leave 
 to take the basket with me into a first-class carriage. 
 
 Just as the train was starting, a man came by with 
 foot-warmers. I procured one, and placed the otters in 
 their basket upon it. Seeing that the man had another 
 warmer to spare, I took that also into the carriage, and, 
 opening the lid of the basket, carefully slid it down between 
 the two little animals. I then left them alone. When 
 we got to Croydon I examined them again, and was much 
 pleased to find that the healthier of the two was lying full 
 length half asleep on the foot-warmer, while the other one 
 opened his eyes, of which I was glad, for I really had thought 
 he was dead. One ate some sprats, which I carried in my 
 pocket, but the sickly one would not look at them. Feel- 
 ing sure he wanted more warmth still, I considered what I 
 should do for a wrap for him. Having no rug or great- 
 coat, I was for the moment puzzled what to do. After 
 thinking for a minute I recollected I had got on my seal- 
 skin waistcoat, so at once took it off and covered him over 
 with it. Both the poor little animals then went fast 
 asleep, and I determined not to disturb them any more 
 till I arrived at the Aquarium. 
 
 Mr. Lawler met me at the station at Brighton, and we 
 jumped into the cab without looking at the otters. 
 
 A few minutes after we left the station I felt some- 
 thing nip my leg, and looking down into the basket, I 
 found that it was empty. Both otters were loose in the 
 cab. My foot-warmers had, in fact, been so effectual that 
 
 H 
 
he MY TAME OTTERS. 
 
 I had made them too lively. I told Lawler to keep per- 
 fectly quiet and do nothing, and even if he was bitten not 
 to move his legs. The otters soon came out from under 
 the seat and looked impudently at us. I did not care what 
 they did, I was so pleased to find they were alive. When 
 we arrived at the back entrance of the Aquarium 
 I asked for a small landing net, and then passed the 
 cushions of the cab out of the window to the man, who 
 seemed somewhat astonished at my proceedings. I 
 intended to catch them with the landing net; so I shut 
 up the windows, and prepared for an otter-fight in the cab. 
 I had not long to wait before I saw the tail of one of the 
 otters projecting from under the seat. MRecollecting that 
 pictures of otter-hunting sometimes represented the hunts- 
 man as ‘tailing the otter,’ I thought I would try if I could 
 accomplish the feat. So, watching my opportunity, I 
 caught the otter by the tail, gave him a twist, and dropped 
 him into the basket like a shot. He snapped and snarled 
 dreadfully, and tried to turn round to bite me, but I was 
 too quick for him, and the lid of the basket was down in a 
 moment. The other otter then climbed up on to the seat of 
 the cab, and seemed to be looking for his comrade. I 
 opened the lid of the basket, and he seemed inclined to 
 go in. While he was making up his mind, I opened 
 the lid with one hand, and gave him a push with 
 the other, and in he tumbled; so I had got the two all 
 right. When inside the Aquarium I gave them some 
 more sprats and another drink of water. We then shut 
 them up in their basket, and put them by the engine 
 furnace, where I left them as jolly as otters could be, 
 though I regret to say the poor little fellows did not live 
 very long after this. 
 
 
 
99 
 
 MY OTTER TOMMY. 
 
 On Friday, April 2, 1875, when returning from a 
 salmon inspection at Cardigan, I halted for a minute to 
 take the temperature of the water of the Teify, as it 
 passes under the bridge at Llechrhyd. A coracle fisher- 
 man came running up to me to ask if I would like to buy 
 an otter. We were much pressed for time, so I had only 
 just a minute to run into the cottage garden and examine 
 him. He was loose in a pigsty, and as handsome a 
 little beast as ever I saw. The fisherman, when lying. 
 in ambush for wild ducks, between Llechrhyd and Cenarth 
 Falls, in January, saw something just at the dawn of day 
 swimming past him in the water; he caught it by the 
 tail, and it turned out to be a little baby-otter. Though 
 a baby, the otter fought and bit tremendously ; but the 
 fisherman firmly secured him by putting him inside the 
 sleeve of his jacket. Hearing the proposed destiny of the 
 otter was to be hunted, I at once bought him, and directed 
 him to be packed up quite warm and sent to Albany 
 Street. During the next day, when all was quiet, I had a 
 grand opportunity of watching him. At first he was very 
 savage, and bit fiercely at everything. I gave him as 
 many fish as he could eat, and he then began to get 
 H 2 
 
100 MY OTTER TOMMY. 
 
 tame, so tame in fact that he would allow me to stroke 
 his head with a pencil. I then took the otter down 
 to my Fish Museum at South Kensington, and, for 
 want of a better place, was obliged to put him into an 
 aquarium, and I am afraid it did him no good, as the 
 next morning he was found to have suffered much from the 
 cold. Being in want of a cage, I searched for something 
 that would do and was fortunate enough to discover an old 
 wooden pedestal which had been used at the exhibition 
 of 1872 as a stand for a statue: turning it over right on 
 its side, I found it to be hollow, and by nailing wire 
 and boards across the bottom I made a capital big 
 cage. | | 
 When in the aquarium, as it was getting dark, the 
 otter began to whistle in a most beautiful way. At first I 
 thought it was the note of some bird—something like the 
 robin. The whistle was repeated several times sharply, 
 and then followed by a musical kind of rattle. I have no 
 idea of the mechanism of the whistle of the otter; prairie- 
 dogs and marmots also whistle. I believe it is not under- 
 stood how they manage to do it. Lieutenant Juel, 
 commanding officer of a Norwegian man-of-war, who had 
 come to consult me about the fisheries of his country, 
 told me that otter-shooting was a favourite sport in 
 Norway. They either tracked them in the snow, or else 
 called them by imitating the otter’s own whistle. | 
 Tommy, as the otter was christened, lived in his cage 
 along time, and became a great attraction to visitors. He 
 soon learnt to answer to his name, and if a stone were 
 thrown into his tub of water he would dive for and 
 gambol with it in a kitten-like manner. During the 
 
 
 
MY OTTER TOMMY. 101 
 
 summer of 1878 the attendant Edon informed me that 
 Tommy used to come out of his house, especially on 
 moonlight nights, and play about on the roof of his cage ; 
 but, as far as we know, he never then went far away. 
 We should never have known this had not a policeman 
 seen him on the top of his cage. We could not con- 
 ceive how he got out; but it was afterwards discovered 
 that Master Tommy had scratched a hole under- 
 neath the straw of his bed, through which he used to 
 squeeze his india-rubber-like body and crawl up the 
 interspace between the cage and the wall; but at day- 
 light he used to go back again by the same road into 
 his cage. 
 
 One morning in the following winter a mysterious 
 circumstance took place. The padlock which fastened 
 the wirework of the cage was missing, and Tommy 
 was gone. The question was, whither? As my badger 
 got loose and was seen in the drains in Kensington 
 Gardens (where for aught I know he is still alive and 
 well, and I hope he is so), I expected to hear of a wonder- 
 ful discovery of a live otter in the Serpentine. In order 
 to induce Tommy not to go to the Serpentine, I ordered 
 the lad Joe, the assistant, to put Tommy’s food as usual 
 in his house, so that he might not suffer from 
 hunger. 
 
 For several days we knew he was not far away, because 
 he ate his food, and we could see his tracks in the snow. 
 One night, as Joe was hunting the bushes about with a 
 lantern, Tommy followed the light, and Joe and the 
 policeman on duty managed to circumvent the foolish 
 little rascal, and drive him into his cage. He was dread- 
 
102 MY OTTER TOMMY. 
 
 fully thin and scared, and seemed only too glad to get 
 
 back to his comfortable home. I had previously borrowed © | 
 
 a cat-trap from Mr. Bartlett, but Tommy was much too 
 artful to go into it. 
 
 With care and plenty of food the otter soon recovered. 
 Mr. Edon found he could imitate his whistle exactly by 
 sharply twisting the glass stopper of a bottle in its socket. 
 
 I suppose that my Museum must be a ghostly-looking 
 place in the middle of the night. An Irishman who 
 was put on as policeman, was terribly frightened one 
 night. When going his rounds, as he was flashing 
 his bull’s-eye about, suddenly from the side of the stove 
 there appeared two eyes of fire, glaring with demoniacal 
 fierceness at the Bobby. Poor Bobby trembled, groaned, 
 and quickly retreated backwards from the supposed ghost ; 
 in doing so, he fell down three steps on to his back, which 
 added much to his previous alarm. It turned out that 
 the demoniacal eyes were simply the glass eyes of my 
 big Scotch fox, which Edon had stuffed in a curled-up 
 attitude. The light from the bull’s-eye lantern happened 
 to hit the glass eyes just at the right angle. The stuffed 
 fox was afterwards placed upon the straw on which the 
 cast of the elephant rests. Edon put a chain round his 
 neck, and it is often amusing to hear visitors argue whether 
 the animal is really dead or alive. | 
 
 In April 1879 my friend Mr. Charles Hambro wrote 
 to say that his keeper had captured an otter near his 
 residence, Milford Abbey, Blandford, Dorset, and that the 
 animal was so little injured that he thought it would do 
 well in captivity. It had been taken by a steel trap, but 
 so ligntly caught that only the extreme end of the toe was 
 
 
 
MY OTTER TOMMY. 103 
 
 held, so that no bones were broken, and no internal parts 
 injured. 
 
 At my request Mr. Hambro presented this otter to the 
 authorities of the Westminster Aquarium, where it was 
 placed in the tank previously occupied by the manatee, 
 and which was built originally for otters. The manatee 
 had died in March, and the otter was installed in its 
 place. The tank was most admirably suited for the 
 purpose, and being constructed with immense sheets of 
 glass, was really a palace for the animal. 
 
 This otter did not live very long, so at the request of 
 the Directors I sent up Master Tommy from the Museum, 
 and I am glad I did, as the sight of the otter swimming 
 about in his transparent house is an exhibition quite 
 unique. I have often suggested this exhibition of otters 
 to gentlemen connected with aquaria, but the Westminster 
 Aquarium was the first to carry it out. 
 
 Not only is this a very pretty sight to ordinary visitors, 
 but the naturalist had, for the first time, an opportunity 
 of learning the habits of this Kee Door, or water-dog,! 
 in hunting for his prey under water. Otter hunters, 
 fishermen, and gamekeepers know doubtless the habits of 
 the otter when on land, but their mode of swimming 
 under water, and their manner of catching fish? in the 
 
 ' The Welsh for otter is ‘ Ci dwr,’ which signifies water-dog—not at 
 all a bad name. 
 
 2 Besides the cannibal fish of the waters, the fish have to run the 
 gauntlet of many animals living a great part of their time, not in the 
 water, but in the air, or breathing air. Thus, for instance, the sea fish 
 have to encounter the attacks of whales, porpoises, dolphins, a great 
 many species of seals, besides gannets, divers, and a great number of 
 other fish-eating sea birds; and here let it be remarked that the walrus 
 does not eat fish: he uses his tusks and wire-like whiskers for routing 
 
104 MY OTTER TOMMY. 
 
 water are probably as unknown to them as they were to 
 myself until lately. 
 
 I will now venture to make a few remarks upon the 
 structure and mode of fishing of this interesting British 
 animal, which in elegance of form and perfect structure 
 is one of the most graceful animals that has been placed 
 by the Creator on this earth. 
 
 When living fish are placed in the aquarium, the otter 
 ascertains the fact in a moment, and his beautiful intelli- 
 gent face gleams as it were with satisfaction as he goes 
 into the water. The first thing to be observed is the 
 wonderful way in which he glides off his board. He does 
 not go in with arun and a jump, but dives head fore- 
 most, almost without disturbing the particles of water, cer- 
 tainly without the slightest splash or noise. 
 
 This he is enabled to do mainly because his head is 
 formed in a_ beautiful wedge-like shape, a structure 
 -admirably adapted for ihe work he has todo. On each 
 side of the head, near the nostrils, are situated a great 
 array of whiskers. These whiskers are found also in the 
 lion, cat, seal, rat, hare and other creatures which get their 
 living in darkness or else under water. Each whisker 
 springs from a great root. This root is composed of a 
 bunch of nerve-substance, and is connected by means of 
 another nerve with the brain. In the skull of the otter, 
 as in the skull of the lion, we find therefore that the hole 
 through which this great nerve going to the whiskers 
 passes is very large, showing that the nerve is also very 
 in the sand, and turning up therefrom shrimps and small edible arctic 
 
 molluscs, In tropical climates the fresh-water fish have the crocodile 
 for an enemy. 
 
 
 
MY OTTER TOMMY. 105 
 
 large. The instant the otter is under the surface of the 
 ‘water we see these whiskers come into play; the otter ex- 
 pands them to their full extent, and they form as it were. 
 a circle of sentries, so that when under water these highly 
 sensitive whiskers guide him in all his movements. This 
 is obvious by the way the otter, although not in pursuit of 
 fish, is enabled to turn the corners of the aquarium and 
 avoid obstacles as they occur. 
 
 The next thing we observe is that, when hunting under 
 water, the otter is guided more by sight than by sense of 
 smell. He keeps his eyes wide open all the time, and 
 turns his head right and left with a quick motion, as 
 though looking for his prey. I am however puzzled to 
 know why it is that the otter’s eyes should be so exceed- 
 ingly small. They are prominent and rat-like, and 
 altogether not very unlike small black boot-buttons. Why 
 the otter should have such small eyes, and the seal such 
 large ones, | am not as yet certain, but there is doubtless 
 good reason for it. 
 
 When the otter is pursuing a fish, it is most interest- 
 ing to observe his manner of swimming. He does not use 
 his fore and hind legs as does a horse or dog, but folds 
 his front paws alongside his body while he strikes out 
 vehemently with his two hind legs. This causes his 
 movement to be apparently by jerks, but the jerks are so 
 exceedingly rapid that the creature progresses in the water 
 with extreme velocity, almost as quick as a pike when he 
 darts at his prey. 
 
 I have elsewhere explained that the use of the tail of 
 the rat is to balance himself when passing along places 
 
106 MY OTTER TOMMY. 
 
 difficult to walk on, and that the use of the beaver’s tail is a 
 not to build his house, as is stated in old natural history 
 books, but to act as a support when the animal is sitting 
 
 up, tripod fashion, at his work. When swimming the — 
 
 beaver uses his tail to enable him to rise or sink in the 
 water, whereas I find that the otter carries his tail ex- 
 tended straight behind him, so that he guides himself, and 
 turns very quickly in and out among the sunken roots of 
 waterside trees. This graceful act of turning is well seen 
 in the Westminster otter when he seizes the fish. At that 
 moment he instantly turns, and forms himself as it were 
 into a ball, so that the fish has not the slightest chance of 
 escaping. 
 
 I have deseribed, when writing of the anatomy of the 
 guillemot, the wonderful bubbles of air that invariably 
 follow that bird when under water, and I have explained 
 how the air is stored underneath the feathers, and given 
 out when the bird is diving. In the otter a somewhat 
 similar phenomenon can be observed. As he swims along 
 under water he is followed by a train of the most lovely 
 air-bubbles,.which appear exactly like beads of quicksilver. 
 The origin of this air I cannot quite make out. A large 
 proportion of it comes directly from the lungs. This is 
 important ; the otter evidently has some difficulty in 
 sinking in the water, he therefore lets out the air to 
 enable him to go down; but at the same time a good 
 deal of air comes from underneath the fur. When the 
 seal dives no air appears to come from underneath his 
 coat. 
 
 The otter, it has been remarked, always takes the 
 
 
 
MY OTTER TOMMY. 107 
 
 largest fish in the tank first, leaving the smallest fish till 
 the last. He never attempts to eat them under water, 
 but always comes to the bank-side to have his meal. The 
 otter invariably begins to eat the fish by crunching up 
 the head, never the tail; holding his prey by his fore 
 paws, so that it has not the least chance of escape, 
 and munching it into very small bits. I have pre- 
 pared the skull of an otter, and find that the canine teeth 
 are very trenchant, and almost scissor-like in their action ; 
 they are conical in shape, much sharper than the canines 
 of a dog or cat. When a fish is caught the otter immedi- 
 ately transfixes it through the head with his sharp canines, 
 the action of which is such that the fish is held by them 
 as in a rabbit-trap, and cannot escape. The otter holds 
 the fish for some little time between his canines before 
 he begins to eat, waiting till it is quite dead and quiet. 
 In eating he never uses his canines at all, but bites at 
 the fish with the side of the mouth only. The molars and 
 the prz-molars are also very sharp, but capable of crushing 
 any substance into very small bits. 
 
 In January 1871 my friend Dr. Norman of Yarmouth 
 sent me a huge otter. It was packed in a baby’s cradle in 
 which the various members of the doctor’s family had been 
 successively reared. This grand otter measured four feet 
 three inches from tip of nose to end of tail, the tail being 
 one foot three inches long,and weighed thirty-two anda 
 half pounds immediately after it was captured near the 
 North Pier, Yarmouth. 
 
 When dissecting the body of the beast, I discovered 
 what I believed to be a new fact as regards the esophagus 
 
108 MY OTTER TOMMY. 
 
 or gullet of this animal. Holding up the pharynx, I poured — | 
 down thin plaster into the stomach, which, of course, 
 hardened, showing its full capacity ; it was nine and a half 
 
 inches long, and fifteen inches round, and would hold rather — | 
 
 over three pints of fluid. The cesophagus was nineteen 
 inches long, and, strange to say, was a very small tube, the 
 size of a half-inch gas pipe, hardly big enough to admit one’s 
 little finger, and only one inch and three-quarters round. 
 I expected to find it a large dilatable tube, as in other fish- 
 eating creatures: why the gullet should be so small I do 
 not know, but the description given above of the teeth, 
 and of the manner in which the otter eats, shows that 
 the structure of the teeth is adapted to this peculiarity 
 in the gullet. If the otter did not cut up his food 
 very small he would be choked. In the seal, on the con- 
 trary, the gullet is a large capacious bag, down which the 
 fish is slipped ina moment. The reader should observe 
 the seals when fed at the Zoological Gardens; the fish are 
 bolted, and not masticated. 
 
 In my Museum at South Kensington there is a prepa- 
 ration showing this very curious construction of the gullet 
 of the otter. JI have remarked that every time the otter 
 swallows his food he gives a gape, something like yawning. 
 This must have something to do with the large size of the 
 stomach and the sinall size of the cesophagus. 
 
 I have also in my Museum the cast of an otter when 
 skinned, showing the muscular structure of the beast. I 
 observe that all four feet are webbed; that is to say, a 
 membrane connects the toes as in the foot of a duck; the 
 hind feet are very much larger than the fore feet, a fact 
 
 
 
a 
 
 MY OTTER TOMMY. 109 
 
 accounted for when we have learned that the otter uses his 
 hind legs and webbed paws much more than his fore paws 
 when going rapidly through the water. 
 
 The following account of the otter is given in ‘ La Petite 
 Vénerie, written by a most observant French sportsman, 
 M. D’Houdetot: —* This wolf of the river resembles the 
 fox in size, but the badger in conformation. The skin as 
 long as the otter is alive does not become wetted. The 
 paws are very short and webbed; he swims better than 
 he runs. His “spoor” resembles that of the fox, but 
 is larger; and the heel is never marked in the spoor. 
 The otter has yearly two to four young ones, which she 
 lays up in a burrow excavated under the roots in a bank at 
 the water’s edge. The otter eats beetles, cray-fish, insects, 
 frogs and water-rats, but his chief food ! is fish, which he 
 often. kills for the pleasure of killing, as do the marten, 
 weasel and polecat. Otters are taken by traps, or are shot ; 
 but are no longer hunted in France with dogs, as formerly.’ 
 The following account of the old French mode of train- 
 ing otter-hounds is given by M. De la Conterie:—‘ The 
 puppy hounds are allowed to go to an extreme point of 
 hunger: then the whipper-in, who is accustomed to feed 
 them, takes a caldron of soup, and calls them to him. 
 He walks straight into a river or horse-pond and places his 
 
 1 As regards the food of otters, my friend Captain Salvin writes 
 me :—‘ Otters will kill and eat rabbits. J keep mine almost always on 
 meat, and often give him rabbit. In the wild state, when frozen out, 
 otters will catch rabbits in their holes. They often kill water-rats, 
 water-hens, &c. My otter is very fond of a fat frog. When it eats 
 eels it puts them constantly into its water dish to help them down. 
 The otter should be called the “‘ water mart,” itis so like the tribe in all 
 its manners and customs.’ 
 
110 MY OTTER TOMMY. 
 
 soup-dish at such a distance and depth of water that the 
 puppies can get at it without losing foothold of the 
 bottom. Urged by hunger, and by fear of the water, the 
 puppies make many ceremonies before they will go in; 
 but “hunger dares everything.” When the puppies 
 have been in the water once it is all right ; the second time 
 they hesitate an instant; the third time they run to the 
 soup caldron in the water just as though it was on land. 
 All hounds when excited will run precipitately into a river 
 or pond after a hunted stag or fox; but it is another thing 
 to train hounds to take water at daybreak on a cold morn- 
 ing on the chance of finding an otter.’ | 
 
 All dogs will follow an otter’s track with eagerness ; 
 but his track is not often continuous, as he will constantly 
 pass over from one side of the river to the other. 
 
 ‘The otter swimming noiselessly in the water fre- ~ 
 quently leaves his retreat without the huntsman seeing 
 him, but rarely escapes the hound’s perception. When 
 the otter comes up to breathe, he shows very little of his 
 body, seldom more than the tip of his nose for a second, 
 which is time’ enough for him to breathe. Fishermen are 
 great enemies of the otter; they catch him in trammel 
 nets, which are set under water. The number of otters | 
 destroyed annually in France is about seven to eight 
 hundred, most of them taken with traps and nets. The 
 Chinese have taught otters to hunt and catch fish ; they are 
 said to keep otters as we do packs of hounds. In former 
 times the otter was much trained in Sweden for catching 
 fish.’ 
 
 Our author then tells a capital story how, when on a 
 
 
 
MY OTTER .TOMMY. 111 
 
 sporting expedition, he called upon his uncle, a canon of 
 the cathedral town through which he was passing. He 
 told his uncle he would not stop to dine, because he knew 
 it was a fast day, and his uncle would have no dinner. The 
 worthy old clergyman persuaded him to stay. Dinner-time 
 arrived, and upon the table was placed smoking hot what 
 appeared to be a roast hare. ‘ Not hare,’ said the canon, 
 ‘it’s an otter.’ By official authority the otter has been 
 declared maigre, 2.¢., food fit for a fast day. 
 
112 
 
 
 
 THE COSTERMONGERS’ AND POOR MAN'S 
 MARKET. 
 
 Tur Londoner who is perchance at a loss to discover 
 something he has never seen before in this great metro- 
 polis should pay a visit to the cattle market at Islington. 
 On Mondays and Thursdays, on those days only, we 
 may observe cattle and sheep being driven through the 
 streets of London. These are the market days at — 
 Islington. The market begins very early, and at ten 
 o’clock the gates are closed, and no cattle are allowed to 
 be driven through the London streets again that day 
 until after six in the evening. 
 
 Every Friday in the year a very different market is 
 held among the pens at the Islington Cattle Market. 
 This begins at one and lasts up to six exactly, when the 
 great bell announces the time for a general clearance. 
 I feel certain that few of my readers are aware that this 
 most curious phase of civilisation exists amongst us. It 
 is the market for the poor, the moderately poor, the out- 
 of-work people, the very poor, and especially for the 
 London costermongers—quite a class among themselves. — 
 At this market almost every conceivable article used by 
 civilised man can be purchased, at prices ranging from 
 one penny to twenty pounds. The articles sold in this 
 
THE COSTERMONGERS’ AND POOR MAN’S MARKET. 113 
 
 market are rarely new; they are second-hand—we may 
 almost say third or fourth hand. To this place, in fact, 
 gravitate the shreds and the refuse of Great London and 
 its vicinity—the ‘jetsam and flotsam’ of this huge 
 city. 
 
 On entering the northern gate (my visit was paid in 
 September) we find the pen which on cattle market days 
 is occupied by the calves devoted to the sale of old, very 
 old clothes. These garments are mostly, if not altogether 
 feminine, and the customers belong to the gentler sex. 
 The sellers are women. There are four of them in the 
 same calves’ pen, one at each corner, each with a bundle 
 of clothes before her. One picks up an article of dress, 
 and sells it by Dutch auction. She starts with two 
 shillings: ‘Child’s jacket for two shillings, fur and all.’ 
 After a great deal of chaff and wrangling as to the worth 
 and condition of the article, she tosses it over the heads 
 of the bystanders to some customer for the large sum of 
 fourpence. In the other corners are selling babies’ half- 
 worn shoes, old caps and bonnets, gowns, jackets, shawls 
 —in fact, the contents of an ordinary rag-shop. If these 
 garments could only speak, what tales of misery and 
 starvation they could tell! It is a curious thing, that if 
 one of these saleswomen, after putting an article once 
 up for sale, puts it down on the ground unsold, she will 
 never pick it up or take money for it that day. 
 
 In the interspace between the rest of the calves’ pens 
 are allotments of ground for which the holders pay six- 
 pence a day. Laid out on the bare paving-stones may be 
 seen a most curious conglomerate of household goods, all 
 in a broken and dilapidated state. I attempt a catalogue 
 
 I 
 
—a bunch of rusty horse-bits, broken birdeages, chairs 
 without legs, old clocks, chairs without bottoms, rusty 
 nails of all sizes and shapes, lids of saucepans, birds’ eyes, 
 clock weights, bell pulls, glass stoppers for bottles, broken 
 fishing-rods, piles of old boots and shoes one would have 
 thought long past service, buckles, old straps, stirrups, old - 
 saddles, empty physic bottles, bits of broken looking- — i. 
 glasses, oil bottles, odd volumes of books, bits of stair 
 carpet, oil-cloth, &c., &c., besides cough drops, medicines 
 for rheumatism, and patent nostrums of all sorts and 
 descriptions. 
 
 In order to provide for the commissariat ofthe thousands 
 of people who attend this market are here to be met — | 
 vendors of baked potatoes hot from the can, huge deep-sea 
 oysters fresh from the sea, whelks, mussels, cockles, stale 
 buns, sherbet, ginger beer, sheep’s trotters, ham sand- 
 wiches, cold fried fish and bread for a penny, hot sausage 
 and bread for three halfpence. The articles of food for 
 sale are really fresh and in excellent condition, as these 
 dealers know quite well that neither the poor man nor his 
 wife will buy any food that is not really of excellent 
 quality. | 
 
 At the end of the avenue we come to the poultry 
 market. Here,on a fine day, can be seen for sale immense 
 quantities of live fowls, ducks, geese, turkeys, pigeons, 
 &c. Some of these birds are of the very best. possible 
 kind—some of the very worst. 
 
 Trish ducklings can be bought at fourteen or fifteen 
 pence each. They are of course very thin, but yet ‘are 
 bought up by the poor with the idea of fattening them 
 for home consumption. Irish goslings are sold in large 
 
 
 

 
 THE COSTERMONGERS’ AND POOR MAN’S MARKET, 115 
 
 numbers, and fetch from half a crown to three shillings. 
 ‘Widows,’ alias old hens, are to be bought at a shilling 
 each, Most of these widows are sold by the hawker 
 from the hand, as it would be a dangerous experiment 
 to let them try to stand on their feet. They might be- 
 tray their age and infirmities. In the spring of the year 
 these bird dealers have an ingenious device of dressing 
 up the combs of old hens so as to give them the appear- 
 ance of birds in full lay. 
 
 Adjoining the poultry market are offered for sale a 
 number of German hen canaries. At this time of the year 
 large crates containing small cages of German canaries 
 come to this country. These birds are all hens. In the 
 market they are, of course, warranted all cock birds. 
 They fetch, cage and all, from one to two shillings each. 
 The German dealers do not send over the cock canaries 
 until they are clean-moulted and in song. These birds 
 are not sold in the streets, but in shops, where they 
 fetch from 4s. 6d. to 6s. each. They begin to appear in 
 London in the month of November. 
 
 Alongside the poultry are also cages containing other 
 hirds and a few ‘monk’ parrots. ‘ Monk’ parrots are sickly 
 parrots, which have caught cold on their passage from 
 abroad to the wholesale dealers in Liverpool, London, &c. 
 Grey monk parrots were being sold at five to six shillings. 
 Had they been healthy birds, each would have been worth 
 a pound. 
 
 Near the canary stalls the market is occupied by 
 rows of costermongers’ barrows, new and second-hand, all 
 for sale. There are also carriage and truck wheels and 
 springs in abundance; in some cases there are only 
 
 12 
 
116 THE COSTERMONGERS’ AND POOR MAN’S MARKET, 
 
 portions of wheels. The spokes of wheels are much 
 used for the rounds of ladders, and are well fitted for the 
 purpose. 
 
 There are also numbers of carts containing live pigs ; 
 these are sold by higglers or pig jobbers, who go round the 
 country collecting them. The pig market can always be 
 found by the noise the pigs incessantly make. 
 
 The eastern side of the marketis devoted to old carriages ° 
 
 and harness. Here may be seen old hansoms, broken-down 
 four-wheelers, carts and vans of every age, shape and de- 
 scription. I was much struck with the collection of the 
 metal portions of what once had been first-class harness, 
 especially the coronets, intricate monograms, coats of arms, 
 and other heraldic devices, which had been taken off 
 old harness that had seen better days. These metal 
 
 armorial bearings were polished up equal to new, and, 
 
 really looked beautiful. 
 
 Near this carriage department we came upon a lively: 
 scene, namely, the horse market. In this were to be 
 found goats young and old, but the poor things were in 
 very bad condition. Some Nannies are sold as milkers, 
 
 and a most ingenious device is used by the dealers to give . 
 
 old goats the appearance of being in full milk. A very 
 young, innocent-looking kid of another goat plays a pro- 
 minent but not willing part in this transaction. Almost 
 every description of goat is to be found here. The large 
 male goats are bought for stables where many horses 
 are kept. I believe the reason of this is that goats will 
 run from fire, and the horses will follow them out of the 
 stable should it catch fire. Goats are sometimes used as 
 food, and in some cases sold for venison. 
 
 % 
 - 2 re 
 ee eS 
 
THE COSTERMONGERS’ AND POOR MAN’S MARKET, 117 
 
 Jerusalems, alias living donkeys, are plentiful in the 
 market. In September mokes, as they are called, are 
 at a discount owing to many circumstances: to wit, the 
 winter is coming on, the lively time of year is nearly over, 
 and there is no more demand for mokes to assist at the 
 sea-side, children riding, school treats, excursions, bean 
 feasts, &e. In the spring of the year, on the contrary, 
 good donkeys, also small ponies, fetch high prices from 
 the gipsies. The gipsies frequent places such as Epping 
 Forest, Hampton Court and the suburbs of London 
 resorted to by school treats, &., and make a great deal of 
 money by providing donkey rides. Good working donkeys 
 are in the spring worth 3/. to 4. each. In the autumn a 
 good donkey can be got for from 1/. to 50s. Donkeys are 
 largely used during the busy fruit season by the coster- 
 mongers. But many of them cannot afford to keep a 
 donkey during the winter, so that in October donkeys are 
 very cheap. 
 
 In horses a large business is done. Those principally 
 sold are screws, such as kickers, jibbers, roarers, broken- 
 winded, bolters, and vicious tempers. Every infirmity 
 to which horseflesh is liable may be here found repre- 
 sented. Among the horses are some fine specimens 
 of ‘racks,’ that is fleshless horses, simply skin and bone. 
 They are principally bought up by the knackers, not 
 for the flesh, but for what they really are, for the skin 
 and bone. Every portion of a rack not sold for cat’s- 
 meat is of some value to the knacker. The ultimate 
 destination of the horses for sale, not racks, is for the 
 carts of costermongers and little tradesmen. The opera- 
 tions in horse dealing are principally done by horse copers 
 
118 THE COSTERMONGERS’ AND POOR MAN’S MARKET. 
 
 before sending the animals into the market, and, caveat 
 emptor! Old horses are apparently turned into young 
 -oves by judicious trimming, grooming, and feeding up 
 according to their ailments and infirmities. When tied 
 up for sale the horses are certainly not kindly used, being 
 kept awake and lively by sticks or whips. 
 
 Adjoining the market there are sales which take place 
 weekly of Russian and other foreign ponies. They are 
 sold by auction in large numbers. These ponies are 
 strong serviceable animals, and are received here without 
 shoes on their hind feet. This is to prevent them frem 
 kicking and injuring each other when in the hold of 
 the steamer that brings them over. These horses and 
 ponies are bought up by speculators in numbers varying 
 from forty to fifty, and are taken round to country fairs. 
 They fetch from seven to twelve guineas each. Altogether 
 the Islington market on a Friday is a most curious and 
 interesting sight. Take a tram from the top of Tottenham 
 Court Road to the ‘Brecknock Arms;’ you will be within 
 two minutes’ walk of the market. The best time to go 
 is on a Friday when the weather is fine; the height of 
 the market is about four o’clock. 
 
 
 

 
 119 
 
 RELICS IN THE ASHMOLEAN MUSEUM, 
 7 OXFORD. 
 
 I HAVE taken an opportunity lately of inspecting the 
 Ashmolean Museum at Oxford. This museum was one of 
 the first, if not the very first, ever instituted in England. 
 
 The Ashmolean Museum was founded by Elias 
 Ashmole, in 1679. Ashmole’s monument is at Lambeth, 
 with the following inscription :—‘ Hic jacet inclytus ille et 
 eruditissimus Elias Ashmole, ob: 18 Maii, 1692 Anno: 
 etat. 76. Sed durante Museo Ashmoliano Oxon: nun- 
 quam moriturus.’! The collection was, however, commenced 
 by John Tradescant, who visited England first in 1600 ; it 
 was then called ‘ Tradescant’s Ark.’ For many years it was 
 under the curatorship of my father’s old friends, Philip 
 Bury Duncan, D.C.L., Fellow of New College, Oxford, and 
 John Shute Duncan, D.C.L. 
 
 The following are some of the more remarkable relics 
 in this interesting collection :— 
 
 Model of ancient British village, discovered at Standlake, 
 near Oxford. It appears that our ancestors lived in circular 
 holes in the ground, five feet across by three or four feet deep. 
 Huts or tents were probably erected over these holes; they 
 must have been very warm and comfortable. I shall try a 
 house of this kind myself. Soldiers on a campaign should take 
 the hint. 
 
 1 Lysons’ Hnvirons of London, p. 330. 
 
120 RELICS IN THE ASHMOLEAN MUSEUM, OXFORD. 
 
 The Alfred jewel found in Newton Park, Somersetshire, 
 with the inscription in Saxon, ‘Alfred commanded me to be 
 made.’ Alfred diedin 901. The jewel is therefore nearly 1,000 
 years old. I have described this elsewhere.! 
 
 A lock of hair of King Edward the Fourth, taken from his 
 
 head when his remains were examined in the chapei of Windsor 
 Castle, March, 1789. This is a very small lock, and the colour 
 of the hair is quite faded. This specimen shows what a long 
 time human hair will resist decay. Edward the Fourth died 
 1483, nearly 400 years ago. 
 
 A portrait of the head of King Charles the First (who died 
 1649), taken immediately after the coffin was opened in the 
 vaults of Windsor Chapel, 1813: near it is the printed descrip- 
 tion of what occurred on this occasion, written by Sir H. Halford. 
 
 The hat worn by President Bradshaw when he condemned 
 King Charles the First. It is made of thick leather, and has a 
 brim three inches wide. The cavity for the head is thirty-five 
 inches round, and inside the leather is an iron cage, a round iron 
 plate protecting the top of the head; slips of iron protect the 
 sides. 
 
 Helmet and cuirass worn by the Pikemen in the days of 
 King Charles the First. 
 
 A shoe of the Hermit of Dynton ; who was clerk to Simon 
 Mayne, one of King Charles the First’s judges. The hermit 
 died at Dynton, 1660. This shoe is made entirely of patches of 
 leather nailed together. A picture shows that his dress was 
 made of the same material, and in the same way. 
 
 A pair of bellows which belonged to King Charles the 
 Second, beautifully inlaid. 
 
 Boots of Prince Henry, Duke of Gloucester. 
 
 Candle snuffers used in the sixteenth century. 
 
 A pewter plate from off which King Charles the Second 
 dined the day before the battle of Worcester. 
 
 King Henry the Highth’s hawking glove, a thick glove of 
 the same sort of leather as is used now by hedgecutters. It 
 
 1 Logbook of a Fisherman and Zoologist, page 372. 
 
 
 
RELICS IN THE ASHMOLEAN MUSEUM, OXFORD. 121 
 
 must have been made to fit a man with a large hand; the wrist 
 part is highly ornamented. 
 
 A. sword presented by Pope Leo X. to King Henry the 
 Eighth, when he first assumed the title of Midet Defensor, or 
 Defender of the Faith. The hilt in crystal is set in silver. 
 
 A portion of an old stump, apparently uninteresting, but to 
 all Oxonians the most interesting object in the collection. It 
 is a portion of the stake used when Cranmer, Latimer, and 
 Ridley were burnt outside the Bocardo Gate at Oxford, at the 
 place now marked by a stone cross let into the street opposite 
 Balliol College. The lower end of the stake is pointed, the 
 upper end charred and burnt. This curiosity deserves a special 
 case to itself. These poor martyrs, who were called the ‘ Noble 
 Three,’ were burnt a.p. 1555. 
 
 A marvellous picture of the battle of Pavia, 1525. The 
 soldiers are all in very heavy armour. The artillery of the 
 period is most interesting. 
 
 Queen EHlizabeth’s watch and chain. The watch-case is 
 highly ornamented with turquoise stones; externally it appears 
 to be made entirely of turquoise. 
 
 Queen Elizabeth’s riding-boots. These are made cf a soft 
 flexible leather resembling thick chamois leather. The sole is 
 thick and strongly made; it is nine inches long. The Queen 
 wore high heels, they are two inches high. The boots measure 
 fifteen inches from the heel to the top; Queen Elizabeth must 
 have had a very pretty foot. These boots lace up on the outside. 
 
 The ladies’ high-heeled walking-boots which extend high up 
 
 over the ankle, must have been ‘developed by the process of 
 selection’ from Queen Elizabeth’s boots. Inside the Queen’s 
 boots I discovered a small portion of satin, once white and 
 forming the lining; it is now coffee-coloured with age. These 
 boots must be about 300 years old. 
 
 Lady’s shoe, time of Queen Anne. It is the very model of 
 ladies’ shoes now to be seen in the ladies’ boot-shops in London. 
 It is high-heeled, and measures eight inches long, by two and 
 a quarter wide at the sole. 
 
122 RELICS IN THE ASHMOLEAN MUSEUM, OXFORD. 
 
 A still smaller sandal shoe of black satin. This belonged to 
 the late Duchess of York. The sole of this lovely little shoe is 
 eight inches and a quarter long, and one inch and a half wide, a 
 regular Cinderella's shoe. Where is the lady now whom it 
 would fit ? 
 
 Small picture of the ‘ Via Dolorosa,’ or road to Calvary, 
 formerly supposed to have been made of humming-birds’ feathers, 
 now pronounced by the best authorities to be made of trans- 
 parent enamel. This is said to be the finest specimen of the 
 kind known, and the art is supposed to have been lost. This 
 most valuable specimen belonged to the queen of James II. 
 
 Very fine old painting (1651) of the now extinct bird the 
 dodo. The head and foot of the dodo are in the university 
 museum. A big frog, beautifully painted, is by the side of the 
 dodo. : 
 
 A collection of native arms from Fiji and the South Seas. 
 Amongst these, without doubt, are those collected by Captain 
 Cook in his second voyage, many uf which are figured in his 
 ‘ Voyages.’ 
 
 Three specimens of man-traps—most formidable-looking 
 things. I have a man-trap in my own Museum at South Ken- 
 sington. 
 
 A spring gun on pivot, used formerly for poachers. Itisso 
 contrived that it will only fire direct at the poacher. The lock 
 is admirably protected from wet, by wood. Spring guns were 
 made illegal about 1826. 
 
 An ancient basket-hilted sword, a large portion of which is 
 completely enveloped and grown over by the root of an old tree. 
 How [I should like to know the history this sword might tell! | 
 
 
 
CURFEW AND CHARTER HORNS. 
 
 AmonG the many curiosities of natural history of which 
 i am always in pursuit, nothing gives me more pleasure 
 than the discovery of an ancient Charter Horn. 
 
 When at Ripon in October 1863, I took the opportunity 
 of inspecting the celebrated relic of antiquity, the Ripon 
 horn. I went to call on the Horn-blower, and found him 
 living in a little house down a court, not far from the 
 Unicorn Hotel. He had been horn-blower for thirty-three 
 years, and his father was horn-blower before him for thirty 
 years. He always walks bearing his horn in front of the 
 mayor when the mayor and corporation attend church. The 
 horn is a common cow’s horn (with a metal mouthpiece), 
 curved in shape, measuring three feet six inches long. It 
 is carried by means of a leathern strap across the bend 
 of it. 
 
 At nine o'clock every night the Ripon horn-blower 
 goes with his horn to the door of the mayor and blows three 
 long blasts—rather a dismal but yet musical sound. He 
 also gives one blast at the Market, Cross. In former times 
 the mayor was called ‘ the Wakeman,’ and the blowing of 
 the horn, I believe, indicates two things: first of all it 
 answers the purpose of a ‘curfew’ bell, and at its sounding 
 in former times people were obliged to put out their fires, 
 
124 CURFEW AND CHARTER HORNS. 
 
 a wise precaution, considering the carpets were rushes, 
 and the houses were built of wood. It also indicates the 
 watch-setting, and the law in Saxon times was something 
 to this effect :—If anybody after horn-blowing or watch- 
 setting was robbed ‘on the gate-syd within the towne,’ the 
 wakeman was bound to compensate the person robbed if it 
 was proved that he ‘and his servants did not their duties 
 at y‘ time.’ 7 
 
 The horn in the blower’s possession is not the original 
 horn. This is kept at the house of the mayor. I called 
 upon the mayor and asked him to allow me to examine it. 
 This ancient horn is handsomely mounted, and fastened on 
 to a black velvet scarf made to be worn on the shoulders. 
 At the junction of the scarf with the horn are miniature 
 silver models of a spur and cross-bow. On the horn is this 
 inscription :—‘ Antiquis et honorem et premia possi—(I 
 cannot quite construe this)— Vetustate lapsum restituit.— 
 J. Aiselbie, ARM., 1703.’ On the lower part—‘ This horn 
 was again restored, 1854.—H. Morton, Mayor.’ Attached 
 to the velvet scarf are several silver plates. Every mayor 
 on resigning office adds, or is supposed to add, a silver 
 plate. I made a note of some of the dates as follow— 
 1570, 1593, 1595, 1602, 1658. 
 
 Some of the plates, bearing coats of arms and bosses, 
 are shaped like a sailor’s hat. Several also are of curious 
 antique shapes. I was informed that the oldest badges 
 are those of a ‘wakeman’ who lived in the time of 
 Henry VIII., the name of one Gayscar, wakeman in 1520, 
 being marked especially. The title of Wakeman was 
 exchanged for that of Mayor in 1604. Hugh Ripley was 
 the last wakeman, and the first mayor. 
 
 
 
 aM 
 “4 
 ori 
 4 
 oo . 
 ) 
 a 
 A, 
 i 
 

 
 CURFEW AND CHARTER HORNS. 125 
 
 I was told that the horn itself is certainly of a date 
 not later than the Conquest ; that its form is true Saxon, 
 and that there was another horn of similar shape made 
 of ivory preserved in the vestry of York Cathedral. 
 
 In former times Ripon was famous for the manufac- 
 ture of spurs. Ben Jonson says, ‘ As true as Ripon rowels.’ 
 ‘There is an angel if my spurs be not right Ripon.’ 
 ‘Whip me with wire beaded with rowels of sharp Ripon 
 spurs.’ 
 
 I was fortunately able to examine a specimen of a real 
 Ripon spur. The rowel was so ingeniously placed that 
 the sharp points of the star of which it was composed 
 would not show themselves unless pressed against some- 
 thing. This effect was produced by a most ingenious 
 guard. I recommend our London spurmakers to look into 
 the matter, as the revival of Ripon spurs would probably 
 be acceptable to equestrians. 
 
 Ripon was also celebrated for some centuries for making 
 saddletrees and crossbows. 
 
 When passing through York I took the opportunity of 
 examining the horn there. Not having time to go the 
 regular rounds of the cathedral, one of the vergers 
 conducted me at once into the ancient vestry, and un- 
 locking an old oak chest, displayed this valuable relic to 
 my admiring eyes. It is made of the lower end of a very 
 large tusk of an elephant, and is of the same peculiar 
 semi-curved shape as the Ripon horn, which, however, is 
 not of ivory, but of simple cow-horn. 
 
 I am not quite sure whether the hollow of the horn is 
 the natural cavity of the tusk, or has been scooped out 
 by artificial means. It is of a dark mahogany colour, 
 
126 CURFEW AND CHARTER HORNS. 
 
 reminding me forcibly. of the tusks of the mammoth found 
 frozen in the ice in Siberia, and its surface is polished 
 like a marble monument; this is caused, I imagine, by 
 _ the touch of human hands for many generations past. 
 The most authentic history of this remarkable horn is 
 given by Sir William Dugdale as follows :—‘ Ulphus the 
 son of Thorald, who ruled in the west of Deira, by reason 
 of the difference which was likely to rise between his 
 sons about the sharing of his lands and lordships after his 
 death, resolved to make them all alike; and thereupon 
 coming to York with that horn wherewith he used to 
 drink, filled it with wine, and by the ceremony enfeofted 
 this church with all his lands and revenues.’ By this 
 relic, I understood the Chapter still retains possessions of 
 great value. In former times the horn was adorned with 
 gold mountings, and slung with a gold chain; but it wes 
 stolen from the church in a general seizure of ecclesiastical 
 property. Afterwards Thomas Lord Fairfax became its 
 possessor, the golden ornaments having been stripped from 
 it. He bequeathed it to his son Henry Lord Fairfax, who 
 restored it to the church. In 1675 the Deanand Chapter 
 re-adorned it with silver-gilt, and engraved upon it an in- 
 scription commemorative of the circumstances. The horn 
 is adorned with four rings, or straps of silver, and on that 
 
 which protects the rim are representations of various 
 
 animals, all being emblematical: thus, the griffin signifies 
 honour; the unicorn, chastity; the lion, courage ; the doe, 
 affection ; the dog, faithfulness. I find that ‘Deira’ was 
 one of the two kingdoms—the name of the other was 
 Bernicia—out of which Northumbria was formed in the 
 early part of the Saxon government. ‘The capital of the 
 
 
 
CURFEW AND CHARTER HORNS. 127 
 
 kingdom of Deira was York. The horn, therefore, will 
 date somewhere between A.D. 560 and 600. ‘There is, I 
 believe, no reason to doubt the authenticity of this ancient 
 Saxon horn, though from whence, and by what means, the 
 Saxons obtained so fine a bit of ivory I cannot conceive. 
 After some research I have obtained further particulars 
 relative to ancient horns. In the ‘ Archeological Journal,’ 
 vol. ii., there is an interesting article upon the usages of 
 domestic life in the Middle Ages, in which I find the 
 following :—‘ The warriors of the North drank from horns, 
 as did the Homeric heroes, ages before them, and as the 
 people of most countries have done where horn-bearing 
 animals were known. In the ninth century the Saxon 
 King of Mercia gave the monks of Croyland his “ table 
 horn, that the elders of the monastery might drink out of 
 it on feast days, and sometimes remember in their prayer 
 the soul of Wiglof, the donor.” The same Wiglof gave to 
 the refectory of Croyland his gilt cup, embossed on the 
 exterior with barbarous victors fighting dragons, which he 
 was wont to call his crucible, because a cross was impressed 
 on the bottom and on the four angles of it. This was 
 doubtless a specimen of that skill in working precious 
 metals for which the Anglo-Saxons were famous, and for 
 the exercise of which Eadrid, in 949, rewarded his gold- 
 smith Alssige with a grant of land. Horns continued to 
 be appendages of the table until after the Conquest, 
 although other drinking vessels were in use also. We see 
 them represented in the Bayeux tapestry, and find from 
 wills and other notices that they lingered on the board or 
 in the hall for centuries after the date of that historic 
 needlework. The mouth of the horn was not unfrequently 
 
128 CURFEW AND CHARTER HORNS. 
 
 fitted with a cover like the old-fashioned Scotch muil. In 
 the collection of antiquities in the British Museum is 
 preserved a very large drinking-horn of the sixteenth 
 century; so great, indeed, that it was evidently intended 
 to try a man’s capacity for wine. It is formed of the 
 small tusk of an elephant, carved with rude figures of 
 elephants, unicorns, lions, and crocodiles, and mounted 
 with silver; a small tube, ending in a silver cup, issues 
 from the jaws of a pike, whose head and shoulders enclose 
 the mouth of the vessel. The following legend is engraved 
 upon it :— 
 
 Drinke you this, and think no scorne, 
 
 Although the cup be much like a horne. 
 
 The remains of an iron chain are attached to this horn, 
 which was probably suspended in the hall of some convivial 
 squire of the olden time, whose guests were at times sum- 
 moned to drain it, or to pay a shilling fine. This custom 
 of drinking from horns is by no means yet obsolete, for 
 when a student at the German University of Giessen, I 
 myself frequently became a victim to the fashion of 
 drinking, or rather trying to drink off an immense curved 
 cow-horn which had been filled with Bavarian beer, a 
 most difficult task, for if the horn is not held in a peculiar 
 manner, and gradually elevated by an experienced hand, 
 the beer invariably rushes down the incline of the horn 
 with considerable violence into the face of ‘ the fox,’ as the 
 new student is called. 
 
 In the Museum at Canterbury there is an excellent 
 specimen of an ancient curfew, and also of a curfew bell. 
 The curfew, or ‘cover fire,’ which was used long ago to 
 
 
 
 Bes 
 - 
 ‘* 
 4 
 rv, 
 " 
 
CURFEW AND CHARTER HORNS. 129 
 
 put out the hearth-fires when the curfew bell rang, is a 
 large curved piece of metal, something like the front half 
 of a Life Guardsman’s cuirass enlarged. 
 
 ‘And what may this be ?’ I inquired, as I kicked my 
 foot against a piece of metal under one of the cases. ‘ Oh, 
 that’s a curiew bell,’ was the answer. Lucky curfew bell 
 to have escaped the marine store dealers these many 
 hundred years, even though you have lost your clapper ; 
 yet unhappy curfew bell to be so little prized by the 
 present inhabitants of Canterbury! Surely such precious 
 local antiquities as the curfew and curfew bell are worthy 
 of tender care, and a good place in the cases. A new 
 clapper, too, should be fixed to the poor old bell, and thus 
 he might once again lift up his voice in the streets of 
 Canterbury, to be heard by the subjects of Queen Victoria, 
 after being silent for centuries, and possibly having given 
 out his last-sung notes (quere, what are they?) to the 
 subjects of King Henry I. 
 
 When at Carlisle, after the Salmon Disease Inquiry, I 
 had just half an hour to spare. I had previously read in 
 the guide-book that in the Chapter-house at Carlisle 
 there was a very ancient Charter Horn. Canon Prescott 
 on my application kindly showed it to me, telling me that 
 the object in question was called the Horns of the Altar. 
 What was my astonishment, on examining this specimen, 
 to find it to be a walrus skull without a lower jaw, with 
 tusks about eighteen inches long! The skull itself was 
 marked out with faded colours, so as somewhat to resem- 
 ble a human skull. 
 
 I afterwards obtained the following information about 
 this curious Charter Horn. 
 
 K 
 
120 CURFEW AND CHARTER HORNS. 
 
 In the year 1290 (as appears by the Pleas of Parlia-+ 
 ment) a claim was made by the King, Edward I., and by 
 others, to the tithes on certain lands lately brought under 
 cultivation in the Forest of Inglewood. The Prior of 
 Carlisle appeared on behalf of his convent, and urged their 
 right to the property on the ground that the tithes had 
 been granted to them by a former king, who had then 
 enfeoffed them by a certain ivory horn (quoddam corny 
 eburneum), which he gave to the Church of nis and 
 which they possessed at that time. : 
 
 In 1530 Thomas Tonge, Norroy King of Meet made 
 an heraldic visitation of the north of England, in which he 
 recorded as follows: ‘Be it noted that the Monastery of 
 Carlisle was first founded by King Henry I., the second 
 year of his reign. And the said King Henry gave unto 
 the said monastery a great horn of venery, having certain 
 bonds of silver and gold, and the verses following engraven 
 upon it: Henricus primus noster fundator opimus, 
 dedit in teste cartam pro jure foreste. And by the said 
 horn he gave liberty within the Forest of Inglewood.’ 
 
 The Cathedral of Carlisle has had these two fine walrus 
 tusks, with a portion of the skull, in its possession for a 
 great number of years. They appear in ancient inventories 
 of goods of the cathedral (1674), together with other 
 articles of the altar furniture, as ‘one horn of the altar in 
 two parts,’ or ‘two horns of the altar.’ So antiquaries 
 
 came to the conclusion that these were identical with the’ 
 
 ‘ivory horn’ referred to above. Communications were 
 made to the Society of Antiquaries (see * Archzeologia,’ 
 vol. iii.), and they were called the ‘Carlisle Charter 
 Horns.’ Bishop Lyttleton, in a paper read before the 
 society in 1768, said the ‘horns’ were so called im- 
 
 
 
CURFEW AND CHARTER HORNS. 131 
 ri 
 properly, being ‘certainly the teeth of some very large 
 sea fish. He quoted this passage from Ray’s ‘ Itinerary : ’ 
 ‘They have preserved [at Carlisle] two elephant’s teeth 
 fastened in a bone like a scalp, which they call the Horns 
 of the altar.’ 
 
 The late Professor Harkness, F.R.S., in a paper com-~ 
 municated to the Cumberland and Westmoreland Anti- 
 quarian and Archzological Society in 1875, thus described 
 the tusks and disputed their title to be called Charter 
 Horns : 7 
 
 ‘The so-called horns consist of two walrus tusks 
 clamped by an iron bolt to the maxillary bones of a 
 walrus; the inter-maxillary bone and the nostril-bones 
 are gone 7 toto; the tusks are misplaced—that is, the 
 right tusk is in the left. socket, and vice versa, so that 
 the grooves characteristic of walrus tusks are to the 
 outside, instead of inside as in the living animal. The 
 tusks are broken at the upper end, one very much so, 
 and these fractures are more modern, judging from their 
 colour, than the fractures which have taken place at the 
 tips. Holes exist in the upper parts of the tusks in which 
 have been copper nails, as shown by the green tinge. 
 Tron nails and nail-holes exist in the bone, and iron rust 
 shows that it has had an iron rim round its back which 
 is sawn off smooth, and in such a plane that the horns 
 hang against the surface of a wall, tusks down, as in the 
 living animal. In the front part of the bone there seems 
 to have been a metal plate, probably of silver, which may 
 have held the donor’s name. The iron bolt which now 
 holds the horns together is much later in date than the 
 iron nails in the bone.’ 
 
 K 2 
 
132 CURFEW AND CHARTER HORNS. 
 
 ‘I have no doubt the tusks and bones have been 
 subjected to very rough usage after they came into the 
 Cathedral. When first presented there is every reason 
 for inferring that the sockets of the tusks would be | 
 perfect, or very nearly so. An accident could never have 
 broken and destroyed them in the manner they now 
 appear. The sockets, when perfect, would retain their 
 tusks, or if they came out, a small portion of glue would 
 have fixed them permanently. The mode in which they 
 have been both broken suggests the idea that the tusks 
 were held near the points and wrenched violently out- 
 wards. This would destroy the outer sides of the sockets.’ 
 
 ‘We may safely conclude that these “ horns” are not 
 Charter Horns at all, but that they were given to the 
 Cathedral at Carlisle by some traveller, at a time when 
 such things were considered valuable curiosities, probably 
 tempore Henry VIII., and that they were used for the 
 decoration of the altar, being hung from a nail in the 
 wall behind. Further, we may conclude that they have 
 been violently pulled to bits, probably by the Puritans, 
 and rudely patched up again by the iron bolt which now 
 holds them together, and which may have been concealed 
 by embroidery tacked on by the irregularly placed copper 
 nails.’ 
 
 I cannot quite understand how a walrus’s skull and 
 teeth came to be considered so valuable as to be promoted 
 to the dignity of a Charter Horn of a great cathedral like 
 Carlisle. Iam afraid Bishop Lyttleton was not a naturalist, 
 or he would never have called the tusks of a walrus the 
 teeth of some very large fish. 
 
 It seems not improbable that they were presented to 
 
CURFEW AND CHARTER HORNS. 133 
 
 the Church as an offering by some traveller, and used 
 as an ornament to thealtar. Such offerings were frequent, 
 both at the smaller altars of cathedrals and in churches. 
 
 Another Charter Horn, the Pusey Horn, is preserved 
 at Pusey House, near Faringdon. This horn isan ox horn, 
 two feet and half an inch in length, and a foot in circum- 
 ference at the larger end, and dark brown in colour. It is 
 mounted round the middle with a ring of silver-gilt, and 
 supported on two hound’s feet. At the small end isa 
 hound’s head of silver-gilt, made to screw in as a stopper. 
 Thus without the stopper it served as a hunting-horn, 
 and with it as a drinking-horn. 
 
 On the silver ring is the following inscription :— 
 
 £ Lyng Buowde qeobe CU pllam Pecote 
 bys Horne to holve by by lond. 
 
 The traditional history of the Pusey Horn is that 
 Canute being encamped in the neighbourhood of Pusey, 
 and the Saxons at a few miles distance, an officer of his 
 army, the ancestor of the Pusey family, discovered an 
 ambuscade formed by the Saxons to intercept the King. 
 He gave information to Canute, who, in consequence, 
 escaped the danger, and for this service gave to the officer 
 and his heirs the manor of Pusey, to hold by the tenure of 
 this horn. 
 
 Another Charter Horn, the Borstal Horn, was granted 
 by Edward the Confessor to Nigel, his huntsman, by 
 whose descendants it is still preserved. Nigel having 
 slain a wild boar which infested the forest of Bernwood, 
 near the King’s palace at Brill, Bucks, received a grant of 
 land with the custody of the forest of Bernwood, to hold 
 to him and his heirs ‘per unum cornu quod est charta 
 
134 CURFEW AND CHARTER HORNS. 
 
 preedictze foreste.’ Upon this land Nigel built a lodge 
 called Borestall, in memory of the slain boar. 
 
 The Borstal Horn, or Nigel’s Horn, as it is also called, 
 is the horn of some kind of ox or buffalo, and is of a dark 
 brown colour. It is two feet four inches long on the 
 convex bend, and twenty-three inches on the concave, and 
 three inches in diameter at the large end. It is tipped at 
 each end with silver-gilt, and fitted with wreaths of 
 leather to hang about the neck, ornamented with an old 
 brass seal ring, a brass plate sculptured with a horn, and 
 several lesser plates of silver-gilt with fleur-de-lys. 
 
 Figures of the Carlisle, Pusey, and Borstal Horns are 
 given in the ‘ Archeologia,’ vol. iii. © 
 
 
 

 
 135 
 
 PRE-ADAMITE LITTLE MEN, BEASTS, BIRDS, 
 AND FISHES. 
 
 A NEW THEORY OF CREATION. 
 
 SOLOMON has said there is nothing new under the sun. 
 Until March 11, 1876, I had always believed Solomon was 
 right, but I have now really something new to relate. It 
 is a new theory of creation—very startling, I admit, at 
 the same time very amusing. 
 
 An elderly man called upon me and stated he had a 
 box of fossils he wished to show me. He is the coachman 
 of a clergyman at whose house I once stayed when out on 
 inspection duty. He said he was ‘no scholar, but he was 
 an observer of nature.’ The coachman’s theory is this :—- 
 According to his idea, there were three periods of time in 
 the earth’s history—viz., lst, thousands of years before 
 Adam ; 2nd, thousands of years before Noah; and 3rd, our 
 own time. In the thousands of years before Adam the 
 world was peopled with ‘ giants and little men ;’ and he 
 had in his box a great many of these little men turned 
 into fossils, showing their customs and habits. He had 
 brought specimens of the little men for me to examine. 
 He did not know what had become of the giants. He 
 then took out of his box a fossil little man, a little 
 woman, anda baby. The little man is about four inches 
 
136 PRE-ADAMITE LITTLE MEN, 
 
 high, like ‘Hoddy Toddy, all head and no body;’ the 
 little woman is shorter, but much fatter; the baby is 
 about as big as a large bean. The coachman is sure his 
 theory is right, because he has picked up a leg (rather 
 gouty) and a pair of feet, about as big as beans, in the 
 same field ; so that they must have belonged to this tribe 
 of pre-Adamite little people. He does not know exactly 
 what the habits of this small people were, but he thinks 
 ‘they buried themselves in the earth; they lived like 
 wild animals, and came out of their holes and caves and 
 fed in the fields like rabbits; they hadn’t much intellect ; 
 nobody had intellect before Adam, who had the breath of 
 life blowed into him.’ 
 
 ‘Types of these little pre-Adamite people now remain 
 in our own time. They are existent in every village, 
 in the form of silly people who runs about and knows 
 nothing.’ The little people ‘lived upon the fruits of the 
 earth before they knew how to till the ground.’ To prove 
 his theory, he brought some of the pre-Adamite fruits 
 upon which the little people lived. Thus there was a 
 tomato. On,one side the tomato had been exposed to 
 the sun, on another it had been covered from the sun with 
 leaves. Then there were some fossil walnuts. One had 
 been cracked and showed the contents inside. Then there 
 was a ‘dough-fig,’ showing the stem quite plainly; an 
 orange which had been peeled ; a ‘ sturshum’ (nasturtium) 
 seed ; a fruit that had tumbled into the mud, and there 
 were marks where the little people had been trying to 
 scratch it out. There were also a mushroom and half an 
 ego, showing the shell, the white, and the yolk. 
 
 Along with the little men there lived a number of 
 
 
 
 BI 
 i 
 4 
 

 
 BEASTS, BIRDS, AND FISHES. 13% 
 
 very curious animals; thus there were a fossil bat, a fossil 
 mole, and other animals he could not make out. Besides 
 the animals, all very little, there were a great number 
 of birds and fishes of different kinds. The best speci- 
 men of a bird was a fossil partridge, about an inch and 
 a half long, and the size of a large filbert; he called my 
 attention to the frightened look of the bird. A fossil 
 pheasant did not look so frightened. There is a fossil 
 goose that looks particularly alarmed; in fact, so frightened 
 that he has dislocated his neck. There are no bones in 
 these fossil birds, ‘ they are all pressed together.’ These 
 birds still preserve the frightened look caused by ‘the 
 sudden destruction of period that come on ’em. They 
 lived on the hills with the little men, and when they saw 
 the waters of the deluge a-coming up they couldn’t get 
 away in time, and they looked with surprise at the water.’ 
 The frightened appearance of these birds still remainlng 
 on them isa certain proof of the deluge. Somehow or 
 other, most of the birds are very much crushed, but he 
 ‘don’t know what crushed ’em. Their feathers ’as all 
 gone away through the lapse of hages.’ He had also a 
 collection of fossil fish that lived at the time of the little 
 men; thus there is a sprat, a minnow, an eel, a gurnet, a 
 smelt and a mackerel, all diminutive, the same as the 
 people. The eel is particularly remarkable; ‘he was 
 going quietly along through the water, when he was took 
 with a sudden change of period, and became solid all of an 
 instant.’ The great triumph of the theory is ‘a fossil 
 bird’s nest, there is even ‘a mark where the bird leaned 
 his head over,’ and he has found a bird, he thinks, that 
 built the nest. There are not many insects, only one 
 
‘138 PRE-ADAMITE LITTLE MEN, 
 
 fossil black-beetle. ‘ As the black-beetle lived in theperiod 
 so many hundreds of thousands of years before Adam, he 
 has now turned into a beetle, white with age.’ 
 
 My readers will doubtless wonder what all this means. 
 The coachman has been over twenty years in the employ — 
 of his master, with whom he goes out shooting a great 
 deal. At these times he has made his collection of pre- 
 Adamite little men, fruit, birds, beasts, and insects that 
 were living thousands of years before Adam. 
 
 These wonderful curiosities are really nothing but 
 common flints. His little men, legs, birds and fishes are 
 simply fossil sponges, or portions of flint, which, by an 
 imaginative mind, may be said somewhat to resemble the 
 various forms attributed to them. His ‘fruits of the 
 earth’ are fossil echini; his fossil bird’s nest is simply a 
 flint waterworn sponge, somewhat resembling a small 
 bird’s nest. , 
 
 He was, however, right in two cases, as he produced 
 some fossil ‘ sherk’s ’ (shark’s) teeth, and the fossil ear-bone 
 of a whale. I thought it would be too cruel to tell the 
 coachman that his curiosities were only flints, and he went 
 away quite satisfied with the converts he had made. Of 
 course I purchased this unique collection for my museum. 
 
 The thought suddenly struck me that after all the 
 coachman’s theory is not wholly new. I remembered the 
 story of Deucalion and Pyrrha, and turned to my ‘ Ovid,’ 
 where we have the stony origin of mankind set forth long 
 ago. The following is the history of Deucalion :—The 
 son of Prometheus, King of Thessaly, and husband of 
 Pyrrha, daughter of Epimetheus. In his reign came the 
 deluge, or universal flood, which drowned all the world. 
 
 
 

 
 BEASTS, BIRDS, AND FISHES. 139 
 
 Only he and his wife got into a small ship, which was 
 carried to Mount Parnassus, and there stayed; and there 
 dry land first appeared, after the waters were abated. 
 He, consulting with the oracle of Themis how mankind 
 might be repaired, was answered, if he cast his great 
 mother’s bones behind his back; whereupon he and his 
 wife cast stones over their shoulders, and they became 
 men and women. 
 
 Here are the very lines of Ovid. The oracle says to 
 Deucalion and Pyrrha,— 
 
 Discedite templo ; 
 Et velate caput; cinctasque resolvite vestes ; 
 _ Ossaque post tergum magne jactate parentis. 
 
 Pyrrha, with a woman’s instinct, guesses who the great 
 parent is. : 
 
 Magna parens terra est ; lapides in corpore terre 
 Ossa reor dici ; jacere hos post terga jubemur. 
 
 Then they go and throw the stones, and the stones 
 thrown by Deucalion turn into men, and those by Pyrrha 
 turn into women. The gradual metamorphosis of the 
 stones into men and women is too long to quote, but 
 is one of Ovid’s very best bits. He winds up by saying 
 that the origin of the human race from stone accounts for 
 the hardihood of mankind. 
 
 Inde genus durum sumus, experiensque laborum ; 
 Ex documenta damus, qua simus origine nati. 
 
 May not, again, the idea of the origin of mankind from 
 stones be in some mysterious way connected with the real 
 fact so well put in the following words, ‘ Pulvis et wmbra 
 
140 PRE-ADAMITE LITTLE MEN, ETC. 
 
 suwmus’? or to go further back, may it not be an instinctive 
 hazy idea of what we read and believe in Genesis, *‘ And 
 the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground’? 
 
 When going over Melrose Abbey I found the same 
 idea embodied in the following beautiful epitaph :-— 
 
 The Earth gaueth The Earth hutlyg 
 On the Earth On the Garth 
 Glistring like goly. Castles and Towers, 
 The Earth ques to the Earth he Earth sans to the Garth 
 
 Suoner than tt wold ; AM shall be ours. 
 
 
 
141 
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE ‘ JACKAL,’ 
 
 THE Herring Commission of Inquiry being duly appointed 
 by the Home Office in August 1877, it became the duty of 
 my colleagues, Messrs. Walpole and Young, and myself 
 to arrange our plans, in order that our official duties 
 of inquiry might be performed as efficiently as lay in our 
 power. After due consideration we determined to hold 
 our courts of inquiry on the east coast of Scotland 
 previously to visiting the west coast and the outlying 
 islands, inasmuch as during the month of August the 
 herring fishery on the east coast is at its full height, 
 whereas on the west coast the fishings do not begin till 
 the spring of the year, and we had been informed that 
 we should meet on the east coast with many of the 
 fishing crews of the west coast, fish-curers, as well as the 
 fishery officers of the Scotch White Herring Fishery 
 Board. 
 
 Those who followed the published reports in the 
 papers of our various inquiries might like to know the 
 exact order in which the courts were held on the east 
 coast. I therefore give them in their proper order :— 
 Edinburgh, Eyemouth, Anstruther, Montrose, Aberdeen, 
 Peterhead, Fraserburgh, Banff, Buckie, Lossiemouth, 
 Burghead, Inverness, Brora, Helmsdale and Wick. 
 
142 THE CRUISE OF. THE ‘JACKAL.’ 
 
 It then became necessary to continue our inquiry into — 
 the fisheries of the Orkneys and Shetlands, and also many 
 of the outlying places on the west. For this purpose 
 the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty placed at our 
 disposal H.M. gunboat ‘Jackal.’ The ‘Jackal’ first met 
 the Commission at Aberdeen on September 4, 1877, and 
 there the plan of our future expeditions was arranged 
 with Captain Digby. 
 
 H.MLS. ‘Jackal’ is a gunboat of 340 tons; her length 
 is 160 feet ; her breadth 25 feet; her horse-power 150; 
 officers and men, 60. I find that if the roof were taken 
 off the church I attend, St. Mary Magdalene, Munster 
 Square, Regent’s Park, and the ‘ Jackal’ let bodily down 
 into it, she would exactly fit the main aisle. Her bow- 
 sprit, however, would project considerably beyond the 
 east window of the church. 
 
 She is a paddle-wheel steamer, built in 1845, and 
 lately repaired at Devonport. One of her first duties 
 was to act as an escort tu her Majesty Queen Adelaide 
 when visiting Madeira. She has also been to the West 
 Coast of Africa, and, as far as I could judge, had escaped 
 fever. | 
 
 The ‘ Jackal’isa splendid sea-boat. Her officers know 
 her little peculiarities; she is a good, smart, obedient, crea- 
 ture, and does her best to perform her various duties in 
 looking after the herring fisheries. She has a nose as keen 
 as her African four-footed namesake (Canis aureus) for 
 anything going wrong with British herring interests on 
 the coasts of Scotland, and she helps much to provide the 
 British Lion with food, in the shape of thousands of crans 
 of herrings. 
 
 
 
THE CRUISE OF -THE ‘JACKAL,’ 143 
 
 We held our court at Wick early on the morning of 
 September 4, and the same afternoon started to board the 
 ‘ Jackal,’ then lying with her steam up. 
 
 When walking down to the pier, through Pulteney 
 Town, I was perfectly amazed at the wonderful fleet of 
 herring boats in the harbour; they were so close and 
 thick together that it would not have been difficult to 
 walk from one side of the harbour to the other across the 
 boats without seeing the water. The quays were also 
 covered with herring barrels, all disposed orderly and in 
 due form, forming a vast army of herring barrels, each 
 set bearing its own peculiar brand as affixed thereon by 
 the Government officers. 
 
 The captain’s boat, called the ‘whale boat,’ was waiting 
 at the pier-head, manned by four sailors and a coxswain 
 to steer. They were true British man-o'-war’s-men, fine 
 strong active brave tars. We were assisted down the 
 very slippery stairs, the luggage neatly piled away, the 
 boat shoved off, and we were away. I had never in my 
 life before been on board either a man-o’-war or a boat 
 belonging to a man-o’-war. I was, therefore, entering 
 into a new phase of existence, of which, you may be sure, 
 I was not unwilling totake advantage. The extraordinary 
 ease with which the captain’s boat went through the 
 water was surprising tome. The men were such thorough 
 oarsmen that the boat slipped through the water with an 
 easy velocity which I only once before experienced, and 
 that was when riding in Sir Benjamin Brodie’s London 
 visiting carriage, the most comfortable carriage that ever 
 was or ever will be invented. 
 
 The whale-boat was soon alongside the ‘ Jackal,’ and 
 
144 THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL.’ 
 
 when we got near, the man pulling the bow oar laidin his | 
 
 oar and cleverly caught his ship’s side with a boat-hook. 
 Captain Digby was on deck to receive us. Of course, the 
 moment I set foot on the deck of the ‘ Jackal,’ I raised 
 my hat in salute tothe commanding officer. Her Majesty, 
 too, is supposed to be always present on board the British 
 ships of war. Captain Digby introduced us to the officers 
 
 of the ship, who at once, by their kindly welcome, made 
 
 us feel quite at home. 
 
 Preparations were at once made for starting, and for 
 the first time I heard the merry boatswain’s pipe. In 
 obedience to the pipe the sailors came running from the 
 forecastle to hoist in the boat. The run of the man-o’- 
 war’s man is peculiar; it is a short, quick, heavy tramp ; 
 the men get over the ground very quickly, and seem to 
 concentrate their strength in a manner that only efficient 
 training could bring about. 
 
 At a given word the men caught hold of a rope, 
 pulling all together; up came the boat and hung on the 
 davits, where she was properly secured. Then came 
 another pipe from the bow of the ship, and a hoarse kind 
 of order, whigh I afterwards found out to signify ‘ All 
 hands up anchor.’ It sounded thus, ‘ A-l-l h-a-n-d s-u-p 
 a-n-k-e-r-r-r-r !’ 
 
 Everything seemed to be regulated in the most perfect 
 clock-like manner by means of the boatswain’s far re- 
 
 sounding whistle, piping merrily to the musical click of » 
 
 the capstan, the iron tongue of which gave out a sound 
 like the hammer on a blacksmith’s anvil. The anchor 
 being up, I heard sundry sharp tings of musical bells, the 
 meaning of which the engineer officer explained to me 
 
 
 
 ——————————e 
 
+ 
 THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL.’ 145 
 
 as signals to the engine-room, the paddles then began to 
 turn slowly, and we were off. 
 
 The first thing the ‘Jackal’ had to do was to pass 
 through a fleet of herring vessels coming in with their 
 fish and nets. There was not much wind, and the steering 
 of the ‘ Jackal’ was, I need hardly say, simply perfect. 
 Having got clear of the herring boats, the captain gave a 
 signal for full speed, and the paddles began their pit-pat, 
 pit-pat. Captain Digby having arranged all the affairs 
 connected with the ship, then invited us down to luncheon, 
 the first of many acts of courtesy for which we were 
 indebted to him. Luncheon over we went on deck, and 
 for the first time entered the chart-house, a comfortable 
 little deck-house in which the ship’s charts and all other 
 necessary paraphernalia of navigation are kept. We were 
 by this time off Duncansby Head, the extreme N.E. 
 promontory in Scotland, and the principal outpost of 
 that terrible place, the Pentland Firth. In the distance 
 we could see the Great and Lesser Skerries, and the Isle 
 of Stroma. 
 
 As we passed the Pentland Firth, between Duncansby 
 Head and South Ronaldsha, the ship rolled considerably ; 
 it was not a disagreeable motion. The officers told me 
 it might have been on account of a gale somewhere 
 away in the Atlantic to the westward, or else that it was 
 due to the rapid currents of the Firth. The waves were 
 ugly, dark-looking fellows, and could have been very 
 nasty had they chosen to put on their white night-caps, 
 and give a ball in honour of the ‘ Jackal’ and her pas- 
 sengers. Not liking these big waves, I consulted friend 
 Young’s barometer, and recollecting the old Horatian 
 
 L 
 
. 
 146 THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL’ 
 
 sailor (Horace, Ode III.) who went on the perfidious sea 
 for the first time in a brazen cuirass lined with oak, I 
 vowed a testimonial to Young’s barometer if it gave good 
 weather during the cruise of the ‘ Jackal.’ This votive 
 offering had the desired effect, for we escaped really bad 
 weather throughout our wanderings in Scotland. 
 
 Through the Pentland Firth rushes the great eastern 
 Gulf Stream of the vast Atlantic, flowing with the 
 tremendous force of united tides through the narrow 
 opening between the mainland and the Orkneys—an 
 awful place, where King Neptune lives, and where his 
 racehorses frequently get loose and have a stampede. 
 When we were about three parts across the Firth we 
 saw the headland on the extreme south of South 
 Ronaldsha. Gradually nearing it, a big steamer was re- 
 ported by the look-out man. This was the ‘Pharos,’ the 
 Government steamer of the Northern Lighthouse Board, 
 which carries oil supplies to the lighthouses on the northern 
 coasts of Scotland. 
 
 When we got to the eastward of South Ronaldsha 
 the ocean swell began to abate, and the ‘ Jackal’ seemed 
 to shake herself for a fresh start, having successfully 
 erossed over the eight miles of turbulent and angry waters 
 which form such a barrier between the Orkneys and the 
 ' mainland. When we got to a certain point on the ocean, 
 which the captain had marked out by a pencil dot on the 
 chart, a wave of his hand to the steersman caused the 
 ‘ Jackal’ to point her nose to the west: we then went on 
 a westerly course till we arrived at a small island called 
 Thieves Holm, near the west end of Shapensha Bay, and 
 then we saw the lights of Kirkwall town; the red light 
 
THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL.’ 147 
 
 at the head of the pier showed the authorities of the ship 
 where the anchorage lay. Again once more the cheery 
 boatswain’s pipe, and orders were given to stand by for 
 letting go the anchor. The ship began to go slow, slow, 
 slower, slower, stop. At last Captain Digby’s orders came 
 to let go the anchor ; instantly, the boatswain’s pipe, the 
 musical rattle of the chain cable as the anchor plunged 
 with a foam and a rush into the dark waters, and we were 
 at Kirkwall. We then had to go ashore in the boat, a 
 proceeding I did not like at all, for it was pitch dark, and 
 we had to thread our way through a lot of craft at anchor; 
 but the officer commanding the boat brought us to the 
 pier all right. 
 
 Having arrived late the night before at Kirkwall, and 
 having to hold an inquiry at ten the next morning, and 
 leave at three in the afternoon, I had not much time to 
 look about. By getting up early, and by sacrificing 
 luncheon, I was able to get a general view of the place. 
 
 The following facts I have picked up from various 
 sources. In Orkney there are sixty-seven islands, out of 
 which twenty-seven are inhabited. The population in 
 1871 was 31,241. The largest island is Pomona, on which 
 Kirkwall is built. The town consists of one long, narrow 
 street, of foreign aspect, swarming with children. I went 
 into the office of the Orcadian newspaper, and was sur- 
 prised at being recognised by the editor, who at once 
 thanked me on behalf of the pigs of Newcastle for what I 
 had done for them. I could not recollect much about it 
 till he told me that I had written an article in Land and 
 Water in June 1871 urging the necessity of placing 
 drinking-troughs for the poor pigs that were brought to 
 
 L2 
 
«, 
 7 
 
 148 * THE CRUISE OF THE: ‘ JACKAL,’ 
 
 the Newcastle market, sick and seedy after their long 
 voyage from Ireland. The result of this article, this 
 gentleman in Kirkwall told me, was that the pigs now 
 have proper drinking-troughs placed for their accommo- 
 dation in the market at Newcastle. 
 
 It is impossible to fix the exact date at which One 
 
 was discovered, but a Danish historian states it to be about 
 
 three hundred and eighty-five years before Christ. Dunnet 
 Head, in Caithness, was designated Cape Orcas before the 
 
 birth of Christ. (Query, is Delphinus Orea, the ca’ing’ 
 
 whale, so named from this promontory?) The Roman 
 Emperor Claudius invaded and conquered these islands. 
 Those brave and clever soldiers, the Romans, seem to have 
 been everywhere in Scotland. I wonder whether Claudius 
 issued rations of herrings and finnon haddies to his soldiers? 
 The name Kirkwall, as Anglicised, is the Danish word 
 Kirkjuvagr (Kirkevaag), signifying Churchbay, a capital 
 name, as the church stands quite at the end of the bay. 
 Looking out of the hotel window in the early morning 
 I could see St. Magnus Cathedral, a venerable pile seven 
 hundred years old; built in the reign of Henry II., 
 A.D. 1177. Itis built of red sandstone, and is not at all 
 unlike Yarmouth Church on a small scale. I had not time 
 to go into the cathedral, but observed that the sandstone 
 at the great gate was very weather-worn in consequence 
 of the stone slabs not having been placed flat, as they lay 
 
 in the quarry, but turned upon end. The same weather-. 
 
 worn appearance I have noted on the stonework of the 
 door of Durham Cathedral. 
 
 I was told I ought to go to visit the ‘ Maeshow,’ about 
 nine miles from Kirkwall, to see some wonderful Druidical 
 
% 
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL.’ 149 
 
 remains. The meaning of the word Maeshow is not known.. 
 It was a great chambered barrow built on the surface of the 
 ground, and afterwards covered with layers of small stones 
 and earth. 
 
 The stones of Stennis, near Kirkwall, are also remark- 
 able Druidical remains; there are thirteen stones upright, 
 and ten in number have fallen down. I wanted to see if I 
 could find any confirmation of the idea that the Druids used 
 to get these heavy stones placed one on the other by utilis- 
 ing earth or snow; but unfortunately I had not time to 
 go and see them. 
 
 On Salisbury Plain the Druids first made firm the two 
 uprights ; they then made an inclined plane of snow, and 
 levered the third stone on to the two uprights; when the 
 snow melted, of course the stone remained in situ, and 
 the means by which it had got there were not apparent. 
 Common earth would have served the same purpose. 
 This at least is my theory. 
 
 In a shop immediately opposite the hotel, I observed 
 some curious soft shawls, such as I had never seen before, 
 and also some remarkable thick woollen fishermen’s socks, 
 made in bright Spanish-looking colours. These shawls 
 are hand-knitted by the fisher wives of Shetland. They 
 are most industrious women, and knit all day long when 
 the husbands are out fishing. The socks are made in 
 Fair Island, of which more presently. 
 
 Speaking of woollen goods, Mr. Bartlett informs me that 
 recently he had some wool sent him to know from. what 
 animal it had been taken. He proved that it was wool 
 pulled from the large mastiff of Thibet, another instance 
 of my friend’s great sagacity. 
 
150 THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL.’ 
 
 When the official meeting was over at Kirkwall, the 
 crew in the captain’s whale-boat came up to the landing- 
 place to get our luggage. We got into the boat, and 
 were quickly once again on board the ‘ Jackal.’ 
 
 Immediately on our arrival on board the boatswain 
 began to pipe up, and the sailors to trot merrily about 
 the beautifully clean decks. We went below at once 
 to luncheon, and soon perceived, from the noise above, 
 that the ‘Jackal’ was getting under way. This time 
 her nose was pointed due east, and away she went, 
 pit-pat, pit-pat with her paddles through the beauti- 
 fully clear water. We -shortly passed the island of 
 Shapensha. 
 
 Before we started from Kirkwall the captain gave 
 the order, ‘Leadsman in the chains!’ Immediately in 
 the centre of the paddle-box stands the leadsman. The 
 lead consists of a long, heavy weight, like an enormous 
 clock-weight. This the man swings well forward in such 
 a manner that the weight shall be at the bottom by the 
 time the ship has made her way up to the lead. The 
 plunge made by the lead into the sea sounds to a lands- 
 man like a heavy thud, and is a good imitation, on a small 
 scale, of Zazel taking her dive into the net from the top 
 of Westminster Aquarium. The lead takes down with it 
 a lot of air, and as the big bubbles ascend from the bottom 
 of the sea, gives the appearance of a rocket with a long 
 tail of diamonds. The navigating lieutenant was with 
 the captain on the stage between the paddle-boxes di- 
 recting the steering of the vessel, and this without the 
 least noise, so perfectly are all duties carried out on board 
 this admirably managed ship. Captain Digby allowed me 
 
 
 
 x ae Pe et) 
 ee 8 ee ee 
 
THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL, 151 
 
 to examine the navigation charts. To a landsman like 
 myself the numerous figures on these maps are not 
 ‘usually very interesting, but when out on the ocean among 
 a lot of islands, the figures assume a personal interest. 
 In these maps the lighthouses are marked with a tiny red 
 spot, surrounded by yellow. The course of the ship is 
 laid down on the chart by the officers in a pencil line, 
 according to the lights and headlands. 
 
 The first land we saw after leaving North Ronaldsha 
 was Fair Island, a very interesting place. From the deck 
 it appeared like a huge solitary rock, without trees, 
 herbage, or habitations: 
 
 Dorsum immane mari summo. 
 
 Of course we did not land on this island, it being a very 
 dangerous place ; and, in fact, there are only two points 
 where access can be obtained by boats. It is here that 
 in 1588 one of the ships composing the Spanish Armada 
 was wrecked; some of the survivors are said to have re- 
 mained on the island; it is believed that the present 
 inhabitants have a mixture of Iberian blood in their veins. 
 The women are famous for their skill in knitting curiously 
 bright coloured stockings, the patterns of which are said 
 to have been taught them by the shipwrecked Spanish 
 seamen. No grain is grown on this island, consequently 
 supplies must be sent from Orkney or Shetland. I learnt 
 that the honest fishermen of Fair Island, having such 
 few opportunities of communication with the mainland, - 
 are most greedy after newspapers, and that they will 
 come out in their boats to beg for newspapers which are 
 thrown to them from the passing steamers. 
 
152 THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL.’ 
 
 Wishing to know more about this curious place, I sent 
 a copy of Land and Water, directing it to the Principal 
 Inhabitant, Fair Island. In due course of time I received 
 from Mr. W. Lawrence, of Fair Island, a long and in- 
 teresting letter, of which I now give an abstract. 
 
 Fair Island lies in mid-channel between the Orkney 
 and Shetland Islands, twenty-five miles distant from each 
 group ; it forms part of the parish of Dunrossness, which 
 is the southernmost part of the mainland of Shetland. 
 It is about three miles long by about one and a half 
 broad. In clear weather the Orkney and Shetland Islands 
 can be seen from it, but when the weather is in the least 
 hazy or overcast nothing can be seen but the rolling waves 
 of the Atlantic and German Oceans, whose action on its 
 coast-line has hollowed out many deep caverns, while 
 pyramidal stacks and cliffs rise perpendicularly from one 
 to seven hundred feet above the level of the sea, forming 
 rock scenery grand beyond description, and a safe retreat 
 for the countless number of seafowl of all kinds which 
 repair to it during the breeding season. 
 
 The name Fair Isle is evidently a corruption of Faraoc, . 
 
 which signifies in Icelandic Isle of Sheep. Torfacus calls 
 it Fava in his historical account of Orkney and Shetland, 
 and tells how the leader of Earl Ronald’s expedition 
 against Earl Paul crossed from Orkney to Shetland, landed 
 in the Isle of Westray, and wrenched the islands from 
 the grasp of his rival. This is an historical fact of the 
 middle of the twelfth century, and the present inhabitants 
 of Fair Isle have the same legend by tradition, without 
 any historical record of it. The same tumuli, sepulchral 
 steatite urns, and rude stone implements, which are so 
 
 
 
 : 1 
 als 
 eset , 
 6 ee 
 
THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL.’ 153 
 
 numerous in the Orkney and Shetland Islands, are also 
 found here. 
 
 The present population of the island is about 200, 
 nearly equally divided between males and females.. Fishing 
 and farming form their principal occupations. The fishing 
 is prosecuted in their small fragile skiffs, which are only 
 the first step above the Greenlander’s canoe, yet in them 
 the fishermen feel safe in all weathers, and as there is 
 generally an inexhaustible supply of fish around the shores 
 of the island, they seldom fail to earn sufficient for a 
 competent livelihood. The fish are sold to the proprietor 
 of the island, who salts and cures them and sends them to 
 market. The principal fish caught are cod, ling, and 
 saith. . 
 
 Each fisherman holds a croft or small farm of from 
 five to ten acres on the pastoral part of the island, which 
 is about two-thirds of the whole. On this they keep 
 from one to three cows, two or three ponies for bring- 
 ing peats from the hill, and a few sheep and poultry. 
 The islanders are thus supplied with milk, butter, eggs, 
 potatoes, fish, and mutton or beef for winter use. 
 
 The proprietor of the island also has a store, where 
 all sorts of groceries, fishing material, &c., are kept, and 
 he makes an annual visit for the purpose of settling with 
 the fishermen and doing any other work required. The 
 gross rental is about 150/. There is no poverty under 
 any ordinary circumstances. There is an excellent library, 
 the gift of Lady John Scott, of Spottiswoode. In point 
 of intelligence the active Fair Islander will make a 
 favourable comparison with any of his own rank or class 
 in either the Orkney or Shetland Islands. The establish- 
 
154 THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL,’ 
 
 ment of regular postal communication has proved a great 
 boon to the people. 
 
 Fair Island has been the scene of many disastrous 
 shipwrecks. From its position in the centre of a gateway 
 between the Atlantic and German Oceans, where great and 
 yearly increasing numbers of vessels are continually passing 
 and repassing, in clear weather it proves an excellent 
 beacon to guide the approaching mariner; but in dark 
 nights or foggy weather, surrounded by rapid tides and 
 dangerous eddies, and without a lighthouse, it has too 
 often proved itself a dangerous rock, on which many a 
 goodly ship has been dashed to pieces. In 1868 the 
 German ship ‘Lessing,’ with 465 emigrants on board, 
 ran into the island during a dense fog. This, fortu- 
 nately, happened during fine weather, and the emigrants 
 were saved; but the vessel, which was valued at nearly 
 30,000/., became a total wreck. In 1877 no fewer than 
 five known wrecks took place on the island, the estimated 
 value of which was above 30,000/. Happily only two lives 
 were lost in these; but during December 1876 the 
 wreckage showed that two vessels at least had run into the 
 island in dark nights, and not a soul was left to tell the 
 tale. 
 
 The island seems to be a general rendezvous for all 
 sorts of seafowl common to the Northern Ocean. 
 
 The common and black-backed gull and the kittiwake 
 are here the whole year, but are much more numerous | 
 during the breeding season than at any other time. The 
 eider-duck, the guillemot, the puffin and sheldrake come — 
 about the middle of April and remain till October. The 
 puffin and guillemot seem by general consent to have fixed 
 
 
 
THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL.’ 155 
 
 on the 12th of August as the day of their departure. 
 Thousands may be seen a day or two before that date, 
 but only a few solitary birds after it. The little black 
 guillemot remains here the whole year. 
 
 The Solan goose and fulmar come after the breeding 
 season. The stormy petrels breed here, but though their 
 young are frequently seen the nests are rarely if ever 
 found. Swans and many different kinds of geese visit 
 the island yearly for a few days in spring and the begin- 
 ning of winter. Nearly all the different kinds of 
 cormorants are found here the whole year round; they 
 often drift ashore in considerable numbers, dead or 
 very much weather-beaten, during long-continued storms. 
 Although many different kinds of duck may be seen, the 
 eider-duck appears to be the only one that breeds here. 
 Herons come in great numbers during autumn; as many 
 as twenty may be seen at a time, but more generally they 
 arrive in pairs. Some time ago a pair of white-tailed 
 eagles had their nest on the island, but they have now 
 deserted it. The white falcon is often seen during winter. 
 Goshawks, sparrow-hawks, and merlins are very numerous. 
 There are only five pairs of ravens, but a great number 
 of hooded crows. Owls and rooks come in considerable 
 numbers during autumn, especially after strong gales of 
 south-east winds, and generally remain all winter; probably 
 they are blown across from Norway. 
 
 Wild pigeons are very numerous, and so are starlings. 
 Plover, snipe, lapwings, curlew, sandlarks, and dunlins are 
 also pretty plentiful. Larks, linnets, sparrows, wrens, 
 redbreasts, wagtails (both, the common and pied), are 
 plentiful also. The swallow visits the island in his season. 
 
156 THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL.’ 
 
 The birds are allowed the full freedom of the island 
 without molestation, with the exception of the gulls and 
 eider-ducks, on whose nests terrible raids are made. 
 Every nest that can be reached by any means is pillaged 
 either for the eggs or for the young birds when they are 
 ready to fly. Many a good meal is made both on the eggs 
 and the birds. Frequently as many as twenty-four dozen 
 young birds are taken at a time. Great numbers are also 
 caught in gins for the sake of the feathers; but with 
 all the slaughter they never seem to be missed out of the 
 common stock. 
 
 Fish abound, cod, saith and ling being the principal 
 kinds caught. The saith is the chief fishing of the 
 island, but great numbers of cod are annually taken 
 within half a mile of the shores of the island by smacks 
 from Orkney and Shetland. 
 
 The Dutch carry off great quantities of herrings during 
 the months of June and July. A few barrels of herrings 
 are sometimes taken by the fishermen here when they 
 ‘pan,’ which means when they are forced above the 
 surface of the water by the saith; the fishermen then 
 scoop them into their boats with hand-nets: this gene- 
 rally occurs in the month of August. 
 
 Numbers of large whales are always seen for a few 
 weeks during the autumn while the herrings are on the 
 coast; they often come within rifle-shot of the shore day 
 after day for a week at a time. The ca’ing whale is 
 never driven ashore here. There are a good number of 
 seals, the large white seal (Phoca barbata) and the 
 common little black seal: they are frequently caught 
 by the fishermen; they lie up in the caves, and the 
 
 
 
THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL.’ 157 
 
 fishermen go in with clubs and kill them; sometimes as 
 many as five being killed at a time. The large ones are 
 about twelve feet long, and the small ones about half 
 that size. 
 
 There is a large fish that comes along and commits 
 great havoc among the. seals about the month of 
 November. It is said to be from twenty-five to thirty 
 feet long, but not thick in proportion to itslength. There 
 are no otters on the island, and the only wild animals are 
 the rabbit and the mouse. 
 
 Captain Digby told us that the people on the island 
 of St. Kilda, another desolate island on the extreme west 
 coast of Scotland, complained of a very peculiar disease, 
 called the ‘boat fever.’ It appears that for years past, 
 after a boat has landed on the island, the people have been 
 subject to a kind of feverish attack. This they call the 
 ‘boat fever.’ This boat fever is no new thing; it has 
 been recorded as being in existence a hundred years ago. 
 I think I am close on the solution of this phenomenon. 
 The fever only occurs on St. Kilda when a stranger boat 
 lands, and only when the wind is blowing from the east. 
 The cause I believe to be as follows: St. Kilda is such a 
 precipitous island that boats can only land when the wind 
 is blowing from the east. When the wind does blow from 
 the east, the people in the island are seized with a kind of 
 influenza cold; and this influenza is imputed not to the 
 wind, but to the arrival of the boats. 
 
 I was told at Lerwick of another disease which was 
 new to me. It is a peculiar disease of the eye, brought 
 about by the presence of herrings. To guess at this 
 disease would be almost impossible, but when the facts 
 
158 THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL.’ 
 
 are known the reason becomes apparent. The scales of 
 the herring are very thin, and like very thin glass. They 
 fit very loosely into pockets in the skin of the fish. 
 The women, in the operation of cleaning the herrings, 
 handle them very quickly; the scales are rubbed off in 
 flakes like snow, and are rubbed from the hands into the 
 eyes; they then get under the eyelids, and can hardly 
 be seen, being so transparent. The only way to get them 
 out is for the operator to open the eyelids quite wide, and 
 lick out the herring-scales with the tongue. Engine- 
 drivers and people connected with railways, or travellers on 
 railways, sometimes catch a speck of cinder in the eye; 
 this gets under the lid, and, being almost invisible, can 
 with difficulty be removed. Engine-drivers, I am told, 
 are very clever at getting the ashes, splinters, &c., out of 
 the eye by means of the tongue. 
 
 As we passed Fair Island a great number of sea-gulls 
 came in the track of the vessel, to pick up what bits they 
 could get. As the cook in preparing dinner threw the 
 scraps over into the sea, it was very wonderful to see with 
 what great ease these lovely birds kept up with the 
 ‘Jackal,’ without apparently any effort. I luckily had 
 some herrings in my pocket; these I cut up into bits 
 and threw overboard for the gulls. It was very amus- 
 ing to see how quickly the birds saw a bit of herring 
 not larger than one’s thumb floating on the white and 
 ruffled waters caused by the paddles of the ship. The 
 lot of them would make a struggle for it, and when one got 
 it the others would hunt him and try to steal it from him. 
 After the successful gull had swallowed his bit, the others 
 would all fly back again at once up to the ship, even 
 
 
 
THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL.’ 159 
 
 though it had left them almost out of sight astern. Two 
 or three of the gulls came quite close over the ship’s 
 wheel, and I could see with what ease they turned their 
 head as if it were upon a pivot, in search of food. Their 
 little black eyes seemed to say, ‘ Please don’t hurt us. 
 Give us a bit more herring; we have a long way to fly 
 back home to Fair Island.’ 
 
 While the gulls were off having a row over a whole 
 herring, I asked the captain’s permission to try to catch 
 one of them. Wherever I go I carry fishing tackle. 
 Having tied two salmon lines together, I first of all 
 ground-baited with chopped herring and bits of paper, 
 with herring screwed up, and then tried them with a 
 Thames trout spinning tackle, baited with a portion of a 
 herring’s tail. But it was no go; they would not bite. 
 They came close to it, but were too suspicious to make a 
 final swoop down upon it. I then tried a spoon bait, an 
 artificial minnow, and a sand eel, but in vain, the rascals 
 would not be caught, and all I got for my trouble was a 
 nice chaffing from the officers, one of whom tried to play 
 mea trick by putting on to my hooks a fresh-caught burn 
 trout. So in trying to gull the gulls I got gulled myself. 
 
 In the distance we saw several gannets at work. They 
 came splashing down into the water with tremendous 
 force. When soaring, the gannet’s wings are extended to 
 the utmost. When he takes his header he forms his wings 
 into the shape of a W; this W is gradually closed, and 
 before he reaches the water the wings are shut up close to 
 the body, the loose feathers of the neck forming a fender 
 to the shoulder of the wing, so as to slip easily into the 
 water. 
 
160 THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL.’ 
 
 Instead of swooping like a gull, the gannet drops 
 almost perpendicularly from a great height into the sea, 
 causing the water to splash up. By an admirable struc- 
 ture the gannet is enabled to blow the whole of his body 
 full of air, so that in fact he becomes an animated balloon, 
 the skin also being divided into air cells. I am more ~ 
 convinced than ever of the wonderful adaptation of 
 means to ends as seen in the structure of the gannet. 
 
 Captain Digby told me that on March 19, 1877, the 
 ‘ Jackal’ came across a lot of herring nets between Ailsa 
 Craig and Ballantrae, on the Ayrshire coast. The nets 
 were floating on the surface with a great quantity of 
 herringsinthem. Besides the herrings, there were several 
 gannets caught by the neck in the meshes of the net. 
 The gannets had dived, as usual, from a great height on 
 to the floating herrings, had thrust their long-pointed 
 beaks through the meshes of the nets, and so were 
 drowned. 
 
 I was told quite a new story about gannets, which 
 breed very abundantly in Scotland. When these birds 
 are building, they steal materials for the nest one from 
 the other. If the thief gannet is caught in the act, the 
 bird to whom the property belongs gives the thief a good 
 thrashing, which she takes quietly, and as a matter of 
 course. If the thief is not detected stealing, she flies 
 out to sea with the stolen property, and then returns 
 looking very innocent, and pretending that she had got it 
 away at sea. So we learn that there are humbugs among 
 birds as among our noble selves. 
 
 Just after passing Ailsa Crag the sun went down, and 
 it began to get very dark and cold. We adjourned to the 
 
; 
 | 
 | 
 i 
 i 
 
 
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL.’ 161 
 
 captain’s cabin, and after hearing many interesting stories 
 from our friend Bartlett, coiled up for sleep, Captain 
 Digby kindly giving me permission to turn out with him 
 when the look-out men reported the light off Sumburgh 
 Head, the southernmost point of the Ultima Thule of 
 Scotland, the Shetlands. 
 
 About two in the morning I heard the door of the 
 cabin open gently, while at the same time ‘ Jack,’ the 
 captain’s dog, gave a threatening growl. I was awake in 
 a moment, and looking up, found that the cabin was 
 dimly illuminated by a lantern. A wet-looking man, 
 dressed in a suit of shiny waterproof, entered the cabin. 
 This was the gruff-voiced boatswain of the middle watch, 
 come to call the captain. I was out on the floor in the 
 ‘shake of a sheep’s tail,’ as they say in Oxfordshire, and 
 hurried up on deck. The ‘ Jackal’ was out in the ocean ; 
 it was dark, O so very dark! To quote the beautiful 
 poetry of Ossian, who wrote his Homer-like poem nearly 
 sixteen hundred years ago,— 
 
 Dark were the clouds of the sky : great was the darkness among 
 the clouds of night. 
 
 Night had settled with all her clouds on the hill, 
 
 Gloomy and dark, like the gathering of the rain-clouds behind 
 the meteors of heaven. 
 
 The night is gathered around, let us wish for the moon of 
 heaven. 
 
 Except the watch on deck, and those on duty, deep sleep 
 sealed the eyes of all those on board the ‘ Jackal.’ 
 
 Jamque fere mediam cli nox humida metam 
 
 Contigerat ; placida laxarant membra quiete, 
 
 Sub remis taciti per dura sedilia naute. 
 M 
 
162 » THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL.’ 
 
 It is a curious fact that all men sleep soundest just before 
 sunrise. This is the time when savages always make 
 their attacks. The ship alone appeared neither to slumber 
 nor sleep; she rolled her ponderous but graceful form 
 with a majestic motion as she met the dark rolling seas 
 of the ocean, and dipped her head as if acknowledging 
 their superiority. 
 
 Tollimur in cceelum curvato gurgite, et idem 
 Subducta ad manes imos desidimus unda. 
 
 Her engines alone were not tired; unceasing in their 
 efforts, they drove her still through the vast, blue rolling 
 
 waves. What would not Atneas of old have given for a 
 
 ‘gunboat when out on his exploring expeditions, with an 
 account of which he so humbugged poor Queen Dido. 
 ‘Pius Atneas,’ as he had the impudence to call himself, 
 was not much ofa sailor. He was a ‘Soldier Officer,’ and 
 he and his pilot Palinurus made a nice mess of it when 
 they managed to run their ship (what a curiosity she 
 must have been!) high and dry on the rocks. 
 
 I went to the compass in front of the wheel, with a 
 salute to the two silent man-of-war’s-men who had com- 
 mand of the wheel, and looked at her course. Having 
 ascertained her whereabouts, I was enabled to see how 
 
 very steady she was going on the course the captain had 
 
 marked out for her. There was a lovely bright star right 
 ahead of the ship, and as she rose to the seas her bow- 
 sprit seemed to be attracted, as if by a magnet, to this 
 
 star. 
 Armatumque auro circumspicit Oriona. 
 
 The end of her bowsprit was like the foil in the hands of 
 
 e 
 
 + ’ 
 
 ee yy. 
 ae 
 

 
 
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL.’ 163 
 
 an able fencer preparing for the attack. It tana gently, 
 first to the right from the star, made a complete Circuit 
 ‘round the star, and then lunged forward direct at her 
 again. Looking over the side of the vessel, I could just 
 make out the huge ocean billows over which the ‘ Jackal ’ 
 was riding with the ease of a sleeping sea-bird. I confess 
 I looked very respectfully indeed at those big dark waves; 
 they seemed as though they had not quite made up their 
 mind as to whether they had King Neptune’s orders to 
 come on board the ‘ Jackal’ or not. I gazed steadily at 
 them, and found that, as the ship heeled over, they simply 
 peeped over the ship’s bulwarks to see who was on board. 
 They found on board the Commissioners, looking after 
 Neptune’s children—the herrings; so they let us pass 
 forward over their mighty shoulders. For’ this I was 
 deeply obliged. 
 
 I found the captain in the chart-room, consulting 
 with the navigating lieutenant, who had piloted the 
 ship through the darkness of the night. So nicely were 
 the reckonings made that I was told that in twenty 
 minutes’ time we should see the light at Sumburgh Head, 
 and sure enough within a minute or two of the appointed 
 time I saw the great bright single eye of this island 
 Cyciops winking at us in the far distance— 
 
 Argolici clipei aut Phoebeze lampadis instar ; 
 
 as much as to say, ‘Come on, my boys, all right; only 
 don’t come too near me, please! ’ 
 
 Sumburgh Head is just the place where one might 
 expect to find the cannibal Cyclops giant Polyphemus, 
 whose only eye Ulysses put out with a red-hot pointed 
 
 u 2 
 
164 THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL.’ 
 
 stick. One might almost expect Polyphemus to appear 
 on the top of the cliff. If he had come, Captain Digby 
 would, I am sure, have sent a war-rocket after him. 
 
 We sat down and watched. Gradually the dawn of 
 the morning became more and more apparent. ‘The 
 warriors of the night moved on, the ghosts swam away on 
 gloomy clouds;’ by degrees the lonely and _ treeless 
 mountains of Ultima Thule appeared on the sky-line. 
 We were approaching good old Virgil’s 
 
 Penitus toto divisos orbe Britannos. 
 
 It was indeed a lovely morning. I saw indistinctly, just 
 as it was daylight, something right in the track of the 
 vessel; another moment, and just as the figure-head of 
 the ship, viz., the wooden portrait of a jackal, came over 
 the objects, up went two guillemots, and scudded away as 
 fast as wings could carry them. These fellows had been 
 sleeping out at sea, and had not yet awakened till the 
 ‘ Jackal’ was near upon them. 
 
 As it gradually got lighter, I made out the form of 
 Sumburgh Head, so beautifully described by Sir Walter 
 Scott in the introduction to the ‘ Pirate.’ 
 
 Shortly after passing Sumburgh Head I turned in 
 again for forty winks, as I was aware we had a hard day’s 
 work before us at Lerwick. When I again turned out it 
 was full day, and we were gradually drawing into the 
 comparatively smooth water between the island of Bressay. 
 and the mainland. Lerwick is a splendid harbour. It is 
 about a mile wide, and being three miles in length it 
 affords ample and secure rendezvous for a large fleet. In 
 the year 1650 the English navy, consisting of ninety-four 
 

 
 a 
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL.’ 165 
 
 men-of-war, lay for some time in the bay; and twelve 
 years afterwards another fleet of ninety sail remained 
 there for some days. 
 
 The moment the anchor was down off Lerwick the 
 captain’s boat took us ashore. It was early morning when 
 we arrived, and there were not many people about. The 
 first thing that struck me on landing was the great 
 number of whale skulls lying about, being chiefly used as 
 supports to keep the fishing-boats upright. I understand 
 that whales come in here in considerable quantities in the 
 spring of the year. 
 
 Healtaland, or Shetland, is a wonderful archipelago, 
 consisting of more than a hundred islands. The sea-coast 
 on the mainland is broken up and indented with deep 
 bays, locally called ‘voes.’ In Cornwall, similar places are 
 called ‘zawns.’ Round the majestic cliffs and towering 
 headlands the turbulent surges caused by the currents of 
 the ocean are called ‘ rousts.’ In England, similar places 
 are called ‘races,’ as the ‘ Race of Portland, &e. The 
 
 ‘sheep, as well as the ponies, are very small in Shetland. 
 
 The sheep give the wool from which the shawls are made. 
 In the high latitude of Shetland the light of day at mid- 
 summer never totally disappears, and the smallest print 
 can be read at midnight, when the lingering rays of the 
 preceding day mingle with and give way to early dawn of 
 the morrow. During winter the nights are proportionally 
 long and dreary, and in the month of December the sun 
 is not above the horizon more than five hours and twenty 
 minutes. 
 
 Besides the herring fishery in Shetland, there are the 
 ‘ sreatlings ° fishings, which means the great fish fishings 
 
\ 
 
 166 THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL.’ 
 
 with long lines. Among the fish thus caught are, I 
 believe, the very large halibut, and another northern fish 
 called the torsk—Gadus brosme, or Brosmus vulgaris. 
 This fish somewhat resembles the ling, only it is 
 thicker in proportion to the length. I unfortunately was 
 unable to get a specimen in a fresh state; the nearest 
 approach being a salted fellow, split, and without a head. 
 So I could not ‘make him up.’ 
 
 All over Scotland I observed that the nets and long 
 lines are frequently buoyed by dogs’ skins. They catch 
 Mr. Dog, kill him, cut off his head, and turn his skin 
 inside out, hair inside; they tar the outside, then tie up 
 his legs, and put a wooden plug into his neck, and blow 
 him up quite tight by means of a plug in one of his legs. 
 They tie the plug on to the buoy rope, and the dog’s tail 
 and hind legs floating on the surface of the water have avery 
 curious appearance. For some reason they don’t turn cats 
 into buoys, and pigs are too expensive. The month of May 
 is specially dangerous for dogs, as buoys are then wanted. 
 Mr. Dog gets a crack on the head, is turned inside out, 
 blown up and tarred, and in a quarter of an hour is anchored 
 to a net out at sea. I think it would puzzle anybody, 
 even a judge at a dog show, to swear to his dog when 
 blown up without a head, and turned inside out. Captain 
 Digby has on board the ‘ Jackal’ a wonderfully nice black © 
 dog, a faithful kind creature. I am afraid Jack (for that 
 is his name) will end his earthly career as a buoy to a 
 herring-net, so please look after poor Jack in the month 
 of May. 
 
 On looking at the map of the north of Scotland I 
 cannot help thinking that at some time or other the 
 
 
 

 
 THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL,’ 167 
 
 Shetlands were joined to the Orkneys, the Orkneys to the 
 north of Caithness, Cape Wrath to the Butt of Lewis, 
 that is the extreme northern point of the Hebrides; the 
 island Barra, the extreme south of the Hebrides, to the 
 Mull of Cantyre, 724 the islands of Toree and Islay, and 
 that when the continent was broken up, on the west coast 
 a large inland sea was formed, divided into two, as it were, 
 by the Isle of Skye, the northern sea being now called 
 the Minch, the southern seathe Little Minch. The con- 
 formation of this part of Scotland has great effect upon the 
 migrations of the herring, the season for herring fishing 
 on the west coast being very much earlier than on the 
 east coast. : . 
 
 I confess that before I got half-way through the her- 
 ring inspection, I got quite tired of scenery, everlasting 
 mountains, and solitude. 
 
 I dislike much the words ‘ tourist’ and ‘ picturesque.’ 
 Towards the end of the journey I positively refused to 
 look at any more scenery of any kind. At Oban I saw 
 an omnibus and a four-wheeled cab, which reminded me, 
 to my delight, of my native home. I would suggest to 
 those hotel-keepers and others, who make an easy living 
 out of the mountains, which, poor things, do not get any 
 share of the plunder, that the mountains should be all 
 properly numbered and labelled, ike plants at a flower 
 show. I think that a little variety in the names would 
 also be advisable. It is always Ben this or Glen that, 
 every day and all day long. And allow me to inform my 
 readers that there are no hills in Scotland. A friend of 
 mine asked a bystander, pointing to the distance, ‘ Pray 
 may I ask, what is that hill?’ .‘ Hill, sir? It is nota 
 
168 THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL.’ 
 
 hill at all; it’s a mountain,’ was the answer. In the 
 same way, a visitor to a kennel of foxhounds said to the 
 huntsman, ‘ What a fine dog that is!’ ‘Dog, sir? It’s 
 not a dog; it’s a hound,’ said the huntsman. 
 
 I must give my colleague, Mr. A. Young, due credit 
 for the admirable way in which he piloted us through 
 Scotland. 
 
 Mr. Young has a most extraordinary memory for 
 localities and figures. He has apparently the whole of 
 Scotland mapped out in his mind, and he astonished us 
 mightily during our journeyings by telling us off-hand 
 and with the greatest accuracy the height of almost every 
 mountain we saw, the depthsand fishing capabilities of every 
 loch, the lengths and peculiarities of every salmon river, 
 and the names of the proprietors of most of the shooting 
 lodges and gentlemen’s: properties that are to be met with 
 so plentifully in Scotland. I cannot pretend to recollect 
 one quarter of what Young told us, but my general im- 
 pression of these properties is that no one in Scotland has 
 less than 20,0000. a year, and that the proper thing to do 
 when one has made a fortune is to find out a desolate, 
 barren island where Robinson Crusoe himself would be 
 uncomfortable, or a lonely moor where there is nothing 
 but barren rock and heather, and where, as Colonel —— 
 informed me, the distance from civilisation is so great 
 ‘that he was obliged to give his chimney-sweep a bed.’ 
 There, in these desolate places, do the rich people establish 
 their Lares and Penates. 
 
 I think I have found the reason why people who have 
 made fortunes go and live in desolate places, like so many 
 Robinson Crusoes. In his original state, man depends for 
 

 
 THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL.’ 169 
 
 his existence on hunting, and hunts wild beasts and 
 birds, in order to obtain his necessary food and clothes. © 
 When he has obtained all the food he can possibly want, 
 and every luxury he can possibly get, then what does he 
 do? Why, he immediately goes back to his primitive 
 state, and begins to hunt again. So you see the savage is 
 not very far removed from the Scotch or English rich pro- 
 prietors and lessees of grouse moors and deer forests. 
 
 I fancy 1 have made a discovery. It is a new sport 
 for yachtsmen and those who are fond of large game 
 shooting ; moreover, the shooting-grounds are not very 
 far from London. 
 
 When at Peterhead, on the crab and lobster inquiry, 
 my friend Captain David Gray, of the whaling ship 
 ‘Eclipse,’ informed me that every year in the months of 
 July and August, when the herrings appear off Peterhead, 
 they are almost invariably followed by large Finner whales. 
 These fellows are often seventy feet long, aye, even bigger 
 than that sometimes, and they have hitherto been allowed 
 to hunt the herrings with impunity. The fleet of herring 
 vessels do not care to touch them, and they are not of 
 sufficient value either for oil or whalebone to render it 
 worth the while of the crews of the regular whalers to 
 go in pursuit of them. I understand that these whales 
 generally worry the herrings, not by rushing into the 
 shoal, but by swimming round the edge and driving them 
 together, just as a colley dog folds sheep. At Newcastle 
 one of these Finner whales managed to roll himself up in 
 a herring-net and get drowned; he came ashore near the 
 mouth of the Tyne. 
 
 In Captain Gray’s yard, where he boils the whale oil, 
 
170 THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL.’ 
 
 I was fortunate enough to discover the mouth with the 
 whalebone still om sitw of one of these big Finners. 
 
 I have a little story to tell about this whale. Mr. 
 Morris, of the Coastguard at North Berwick, about one 
 hundred miles by coast from Peterhead, told me that a 
 day or two previous to my visit there, a large whale had 
 been picked up by some herring boats at sea, and towed 
 ashore, where it was cut up and sold for oil. This whale 
 had no head, and it was a great puzzle to the fishers to — 
 know where the head could be. I rather astonished 
 Morris when I told him that it was in Captain Gray’s 
 yard at Peterhead. Captain Gray had informed me that 
 fourteen days before my visit to Peterhead some herring 
 fishers had found a whale floating dead at sea, had cut 
 off his head, and let the body go adrift; the second lot 
 of fishermen found it miles away. 
 
 Now I really do not see why these rascally herring- 
 poaching Finners should not afford excellent sport to 
 yachtsmen and gentlemen who often go immense dis- 
 tances to shoot big game. Peterhead is not far from — 
 Aberdeen, the Scotch express runs up there in about 
 eighteen hours. Gray thinks the best way would be to 
 shoot the Finners with a whale harpoon-gun (a weapon 
 like a stumpy duck-gun), from a steam yacht, or if pre- 
 ferred, regular whale-boats might be towed by the yacht, 
 the Finner harpooned, judiciously played on the whale- 
 lines, and killed in the same way as the ordinary 
 northern whale, which, by the way, does not require so 
 much killing as the Finners. It must, however, be 
 recollected that these Finners are bad to kill, as they 
 will sometimes, when harpooned, turn about and fight 
 
 
 

 
 THE CRUISE OF THE ‘ JACKAL.’ 171 
 
 the boats, using their tail with tremendous force. Here 
 then there is an element of danger which no doubt would 
 add zest to the sport of some of our friends. There are 
 many sportsmen in England who have shot an elephant, 
 but very few who have harpooned a whale; besides this, 
 it is to be recollected that the killing of these whales 
 would be a benefit to the herring-fishers, as it would 
 keep the herrings from being worried, and prevent the 
 nets being rolled up and carried off by Master Physalis 
 boops, for that is his name—bodps because he has a little 
 eye like an ox. 
 
 For those who do not care to go out and kill a seventy- 
 foot whale, I have yet another plan. 
 
 At the meeting of the Yorkshire Salmon Fishery 
 Board at York, the fishermen made a formal complaint of 
 the great injury done to the salmon fisheries by the por- 
 poises and grampuses coming up the Humber. These 
 hunt the salmon so closely, that they leap out of the 
 water and go out to sea again to get out of their way; the 
 consequence is, the fishermen do not catch the salmon. 
 The hungry Cetacea follow the salmon up the Humber 
 as far as Goole. 
 
 A discussion took place as to the best way to kill 
 them, whether by net, harpoon, or explosive rifle balls ; 
 finally, it was determined to offer rewards for their 
 destruction, and the tariff of reward was settled at one 
 shilling per foot, big and little. Some are herring-hogs, 
 four feet long ; some are grampus, eighteen to twenty feet 
 long. 
 
 About July or August whale and porpoise shooting 
 may begin; and to those who wish to have the novel sensa- 
 
ee THE CRUISE OF THE ‘JACKAL.’ 
 
 tion of killing a whale, I expect it will be real good 
 sport. The ladies, by the way, will be interested in this 
 proposed whale-hunting expedition. I was told that good 
 whalebone is worth from 8001. to 9001. per ton. The Finner 
 whalebone is not valuable like that of the right whale, but 
 still it is of some service. The whales, I think, will not 
 thank me for writing the above lines. 
 
 
 

 
 173 
 
 NOTES FROM SCOTLAND. 
 
 JOHN-0'-GROAT’S house, the extreme north of Scotland, 
 where I went in 1877 to obtain evidence from the crab and 
 lobster fishermen, is a most interesting place. Not much 
 seems to be known as to who the original John-o’-Groat was. 
 I was, however, fortunate enough to come across an old 
 fellow who was up to his ankles in water, cutting his crop 
 of oats; his name was Jock-o-the-Burn. John-o-Groat 
 must, I should imagine, have been just such another 
 character. I learn from the Thurso handbook, ‘the tradi- 
 tion is that John de Groat was a Dutchman, who, along 
 with two brothers, obtained by royal charter of James IV. 
 land in the parish of Canisbay. In process of time there 
 eame to be eight different proprietors of the name of 
 Groat. An annual festive gathering having been estab- 
 lished to commemorate the anniversary of their arrival in 
 Caithness, a dispute arose on one occasion among the 
 Groats respecting the right of taking the door, the head of 
 the table, &c.; and it is said that, in order to preserve 
 harmony, old John built a house separate from all others, 
 of an octagonal form, with eight doors and windows; and 
 having placed a table of the same shape in the middle of 
 the house, at the next anniversary he invited each of his 
 friends to enter at his own door and sit at the head of the 
 
174 NOTES FROM SCOTLAND. 
 
 table, and so all were satisfied. Such is said to be the 
 origin of John-o’-Groat’s house. 
 
 Another but more unlikely story is that the first 
 Groat was a ferryman betwixt Caithness and Orkney, and 
 that the fare across was fourpence or a groat for each pas- 
 senger, and that the ferryman, whose name was John, got 
 the sobriquet of Johnny Groat for this reason. There are 
 many of the name of Groat in the county yet, and from 
 local records they seem to have been a family of some con- 
 sequence since the year 1496. 
 
 Close by the sea-shore there is a tumble-down cottage, 
 which will answer the purpose very well of the original house 
 of ‘ John-o’-Groat.’ Near this house a substantial hotel has 
 been erected. The Prince of Wales has visited it, and the 
 inhabitants of this part of the world are very proud of this 
 ultuma Thule having been inspected by Royalty. I must 
 confess that the view from John-o’-Groat’s house is magni- 
 ficent in the extreme. Immediately opposite is the island 
 of Stroma; South Ronaldsha, and beyond that the other 
 islands of the Orkneys can be seen more or less distinctly. 
 To the eastward is Duncansby Head; although the sea 
 was quite calm, the water off Duncansby was in a great 
 state of agitation, and it appeared to me that a large tidal 
 wave, like the tidal wave or bore on the Severn, was coming 
 round the corner. This remarkable appearance was caused 
 by two eddies or whirlpools, called the ‘ Bores of Dun- 
 cansby.’ These bores are at their greatest height at the 
 flood tide. Off St. John’s Head there is another set of 
 bores ; these are called the ‘Merry Men of May;’ these 
 awful waves appear with the ebb tide. The consequence 
 is that this passage is dangerous to ships passing through 
 
 
 

 
 NOTES FROM SCOTLAND. ria 
 
 the strait, where the tide is said to run at the rate of ten 
 miles an hour. Virgil’s description, in the third ‘ Atneid,’ 
 of Scylla and Charybdis, exactly applies to John-o’-Groat’s 
 house :— | 
 
 Dextrum Scylla latus, levum implicata Charybdis 
 Obsidet, atque imo barathri ter gurgite vastos 
 Sorbet in abruptum fiuctus, rursusque sub auras 
 Erigit alternos, et sidera verberat unda. 
 
 ‘Seylla guards the right side, whirling Charybdis the 
 left, and thrice with the deep eddies of its voracious gulf 
 swallows up the vast billows in the abyss, and again 
 spurts them out by turns high into the air, and lashes the 
 stars with the waves.’ 
 
 To the westward from John-o’-Groat’s is seen the Hoy 
 Head, which is, I believe, one of the highest cliffs in 
 Scotland. It is said to be 1,100 feet high. St. Paul’s 
 is 404 feet high, consequently this fearful cliff is nearly 
 three times higher than St. Paul’s. A story is told 
 of an eagle’s nest having been discovered far down a 
 cliff somewhere in this neighbourhood. The sum of a 
 guinea each was offered for the eggs; an Orkney man, 
 determined to gain the prize, made a rope of heather, 
 fastened his wife to the end, and let her down no less 
 than 240 feet from the top of the cliff to rob the eagle’s 
 nest of the eggs. The rope was made of heather, as 
 the clever wife suggested, if made of ordinary hemp it 
 might chafe by the friction against the projections of 
 the rock. The young woman performed this perilous 
 feat of bird’s-nesting with success, and sold her eggs at 
 the price offered. This adventurous pair are said to have 
 
176 NOTES FROM SCOTLAND. 
 
 collected, with their heather rope, a dozen eagles’ eggs 
 in one season. 
 
 I was informed that sixty eagles had been killed in the 
 island of Lewis in seven or eight years, and that there 
 were about seventy breeding-places patronised more or less 
 by eagles in Sutherlandshire, many of them inaccessible 
 to human beings. Grouse-preservers do not like eagles, 
 computing that an eagle kills one grouse every day. In 
 the Orkneys peregrines breed, and a very nice specimen 
 was sent me from near John-o’-Groat’s. The great Skua 
 gull breeds in the northern Orkneys and Shetland. A 
 gentleman living at Kirkwall informed me that a demoi- 
 selle crane (of all birds in the world) was shot in the 
 Orkneys ; he was, of course, most anxious to obtain the 
 specimen, but was just too late to get it, as the man who 
 had shot the bird had picked off its feathers and made 
 it into soup. | 
 
 I was also told a very funny story of the artful- 
 ness of common chickens. In former days it was diffi- 
 cult for visitors to get anything to eat at John-o-Groat’s, 
 there being no butchers or bakers within miles. When 
 visitors arrived it was the custom of the proprietor of the 
 little inn to chase and catch a chicken, and pluck and roast 
 him at once for the visitors’ dinner. In course of time the 
 chickens became very artful. They kept a sharp look-out, 
 and when they saw a carriage coming along the road— 
 they could see a long way down the straight road from the 
 inn—they bolted, as the French would have it, @ toutes 
 jambes—with all legs—into the heather, and did not 
 reappear until the visitors had eaten their bacon without 
 the chicken and taken their departure. That birds learn 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 NOTES FROM SCOTLAND. L7% 
 
 from experience is quite certain; when the telegraph 
 wires were first put up between Berrydale and Hemsdale, 
 the grouse were continually flying against the wires and 
 killing themselves, and in one season the driver of the 
 mail-cart picked up no less than forty brace of grouse that 
 had been so killed. Of late years not a grouse has been 
 found killed by the telegraph wires. They seem to have 
 passed on the warning that telegraph wires were dan- 
 gerous. 
 
 The sea-gulls at Wick are very tame ; indeed, there are 
 hundreds of them in the harbour, and they are never 
 allowed to be touched in any way. 
 
 Apropos of sea-gulls,a very pretty sight can now daily 
 be seen at Southport, in Lancashire. The gatekeeper of 
 the long pier advertises that the sea-gulls will be fed daily 
 at twelve o'clock. Their feeding-time at my visit had 
 long passed, but nevertheless there were hundreds of gulls 
 floating gracefully on the water at the end of the pier. 
 The young woman at the refreshment-room close by, 
 sells bags of biscuits to feed the sea-gulls. It was most 
 interesting to watch the actions of these pretty birds when 
 the food was thrown into the water; a great scramble at 
 once took place for it. I threw in a whole biscuit; a gull 
 flew away with it, with some six or eight after him, and a 
 battle ensued. In half an hour or so many hundred gulls 
 had assembled. This is the prettiest sight I have seen 
 for a long time. 
 
 A friend of mine residing at Thurso, complains 
 bitterly of the effects of the Sea-Bird Preservation Act: 
 he says that the gulls, especially the black-backed 
 gull, do an enormous amount of mischief to the salmon 
 
 N 
 
 * 
 
178 NOTES FROM SCOTLAND. 
 
 fisheries. These fellows watch the shallows, and eat the 
 smolts; he has taken no less than five smolts from one 
 gull: in his opinion there are no salmon poachers in the 
 world so bad as sea-gulls; they practically destroy more 
 human food in the form of salmon than all the other 
 salmon poachers in Scotland. The sea-gulls will also 
 eat oats. They spit up the husks of these seeds in 
 balls like owls’ pellets; they also destroy the turnips, 
 inasmuch as they bore holes in them; the water gets in, 
 and the frost following, kills the turnips. The gulls have 
 been known to destroy in a six-acre field as many turnips 
 as would feed three cows. I understand that hares prefer 
 swedes to turnips, and that it is not a bad plan to plant 
 swedes to induce hares to leave the turnips alone: this is 
 on the same principle that the butler advises his master 
 to put strong ale in the cellar if he wishes to stop the 
 table-beer from evaporating. 
 
 I noted several other matters during my journey of 
 inquiry in Scotland which I should like to record. 
 
 The first thing that struck me was that everybody in 
 Scotland seems to be educated. At about nine in the 
 morning, at every place, both town and village, the 
 children may be seen ‘away to school,’ and they seem 
 rather to enjoy the prospect of learning lessons—quite a 
 contrast to the state of things in England some sixty years 
 ago, when the late Bishop Shuttleworth began his cele- 
 brated verses on the ‘ Progress of a Clergyman’ thus :— 
 
 The fatal morn arrives, and oh! 
 To school the weeping lad must go. 
 
 The lad, however, goes to school, is ultimately rewarded, 
 
 
 

 
 NOTES FROM SCOTLAND. 179 
 
 becomes a college tutor, and winds up with the aspira- 
 
 tion— 
 Oh, make me a bishop, or ai least a dean ! 
 
 Dr. Shuttleworth prophesied his own fortune; he 
 became Warden of New College, and then Bishop of 
 Chichester. 
 
 But all Scotch lads cannot become bishops or deans. 
 Backed, however, by education, they mostly get promoted 
 —as old Dean Gaisford once thundered out at the 
 undergraduates of Christ Church, Oxford, in his celebrated 
 sermon on learning—to ‘ positions in life to which con~ 
 siderable emoluments are attached.’ 
 
 Education also accounts for the answer of an individual 
 to the King, who asked what he should do for him for 
 services performed. His answer was, ‘ Please, your Majesty, 
 make me a Scotchman.’ 
 
 Of an evening, in that charming city of Edinburgh, 
 can be seen at the corner near the post office— 
 
 A little crowd, 
 That bawls so loud, 
 It really runs quite through ye ; 
 It’s all the charity girls and boys 
 A-singing Alle-luia. 
 
 These little wretches are not, however, singing a hymn 
 of praise, but are bawling out the halfpenny evening | 
 papers. Very few, if any, of these urchins wear shoes or 
 stockings; but the sole of the foot gets harder the more 
 you use it, and there are no shoemakers’ bills to pay. 
 They are mostly scantily clothed, but seem well fed and 
 happy. I understand none of these urchins are allowed to 
 
 nN 2 
 
180 NOTES FROM SCOTLAND. 
 
 appear with the papers under their arms for sale unless 
 they have been to school in the morning. 
 
 I saw a little incident that would make a capital pic- 
 ture for an artist. In one of the jewellers’ shops in 
 Princes Street there was a magnificent tiara, with bracelets, 
 earrings, &c., of lustrous diamond brilliants. Two little 
 mites of children were racing to sell their halfpenny 
 papers, when all in a moment the glitter of the diamonds 
 struck them ; they pulled up short, and stood aghast at the 
 objects to which they were so little accustomed, gazing at 
 them with all eyes and great wonderment. Here is a 
 picture, ‘ Poverty and Riches.’ 
 
 I was fortunate enough to be at the railway station 
 when the train arrived with a number of fishwives from 
 Newhaven. They were all dressed in blue serviceable 
 serge; some were young, some old. They all had their 
 creels or baskets of fish with them. I observed that it 
 required two, and sometimes three railway porters to lift 
 these heavy creels on to the women’s backs. The creels 
 are so made that the weight rests along the length of the 
 spine, and is balanced, as it were, by a band that crosses 
 the forehead. 
 
 The distance these women will walk, and the weight 
 they will carry, are astounding. I was told of an old 
 fishwife, living at Dunbar, who every morning sets out 
 on a journey of from six to nine miles round the country 
 to sell her fish, carrying sometimes as much as one hun- 
 dredweight on her back. So accustomed is this fine old 
 lady to carry weights on her back, that when, having sold 
 her fish, she is returning homewards, she picks up heavy 
 stones from the road-side, and puts them into her creel ; 
 
 
 

 
 NOTES FROM SCOTLAND, 18l 
 
 finding, I suppose, that a weighted creel is easier to carry 
 than an empty one. 
 
 In the evening the fishwives come into the streets, 
 and putting down their creels cry, ‘ Caller O! Caller O!’ 
 which, being translated, means ‘Fresh oysters.’ I inter- 
 viewed one of these oyster ladies, a charming old woman. 
 She complained bitterly of the price of oysters, and the diffi- 
 culty she experienced, as a widow, in keeping her bairns 
 in clothes and food. So you see the much-mooted oyster 
 question affects not only the London clubhouses and the 
 rich, but also the extremely poor. There is a famous song 
 put into the mouths of these poor ‘ Caller O’ women :— 
 
 Wha will buy my caller herring ? 
 
 They’re no brought here without brave daring. 
 Some call them lives of men. 
 
 Wha will buy my caller herring, 
 
 Fresh drawn frae the Forth ? 
 
 I have received, through the kindness of an Edinburgh 
 lady, a very pretty song, called ‘The Oyster Girl.’ I 
 would advise my young lady readers (if any) to get this 
 song. The melody is very pretty, and the chorus, ¢ Caller 
 O!’ sweet and far-sounding, like the Swiss jodel songs 
 with which the shepherd girls on the Alps awake the 
 echoes to call their cows home. 
 
 By association with the fisher-people I have, I think, 
 found out the meaning of that very common expression in 
 Scotland, ‘They call him.’ If you ask a peasant in Scot- 
 land, ‘ Who is that ?’ the answer is sure to be, ‘ They call 
 him’ So-and-so. Now, the fisher-people intermarry among 
 themselves. The consequence is that the same surnames 
 in a village get very much multiplied. Hence the origin 
 
182 NOTES FROM SCOTLAND. 
 
 of the term ‘Tee names,’ such as ‘Jock of the Burn,’ 
 
 ‘Sandy,’ &e., in cases where almost everybody bears the 
 name, say for example, of ‘ Buchan.’ 
 
 Among the Scotch, there is, I find, often a vein “sf the 
 comic. I asked a boy at a railway station, ‘ When will the 
 train start?’ ‘She'll just start when ye are all ready,’ 
 was the quick answer. A gentleman living near Peter- 
 head one morning ordered his machine (by the way, why 
 are all possible kinds of carriages in Scotland called ma- 
 chines?) at ten. He kept his old servant out in the wet 
 holding the horse till twelve. On coming out two hours 
 after his time he said, ‘ John, I fear I have kept you wait- 
 ing.’ John simply touched his hat, and grinning broadly 
 replied, ‘ I'll no contradict ye, sir.’ 
 
 One of the most interesting facts I came across in 
 Scotland was the remains of fire-worship at Burghhead, 
 near Forres. A very ancient rite is there still carried on, 
 called the clavie. On the last day of the old year, old 
 style, which falls on January 12, a large tar-barrel is set 
 on fire, and carried by one of the fishermen round the 
 town, while the assembled folks shout and holloa. If the 
 man who carries the barrel falls, it is an omen of misfor- 
 tune to him or his family. The circuit of the town having 
 been made by the man with the burning barrel, it is 
 
 placed on a large stone on the very top of the neighbour- ~ 
 
 ing cliff, and more fuel is added. The sparks, as they 
 fly upwards, are supposed to be witches and evil spirits 
 leaving the town, the populace hoot and _ execrate 
 them accordingly. The fire-barrelis then placed on an 
 ancient Roman altar to finish its burning out; this altar 
 is called the douro. As the barrel falls in pieces the 
 
 
 
 Pe ee ae ee ee eS ee 
 
 ‘ 
 = 
 
 * 40s 
 

 
 | 
 
 NOTES FROM SCOTLAND. 183 
 
 fisher-wives rush in, and endeavour to get a lighted bit 
 of the wood; with this light the fire on the hearth of 
 the cottage is at once kindled, and it is, I understand, 
 lucky to keep this same fire going all the year round. 
 _ Bits of the charcoal of the clavie fire-barrel are also col- 
 lected and suspended in the chimney, to keep away 
 witches and evil spirits. 
 
 It appears to me that this curious ceremony of the 
 clavie and the douro are the remains of fire-worship. | 
 
 I examined the douro, and also a curious Roman well, 
 and some rude ancient Roman sculpture in the harbour- 
 master’s office, built into a wall near the douro. 
 
 I am informed that up to a very recent date, the 
 carrying of a tar-barrel was also a regular custom with 
 the lads of Stromness on Christmas and New Year’s Eves; 
 and when the tar in the barrel got spent, the barrel was 
 carried to Brinkie’s Brae, and there burnt. Sometimes a 
 boat with tar on fire in a pot inside of it was substituted 
 for the barrel, and drawn through the streets by many 
 willing hands, who sang sea songs as they passed along. 
 
184 
 
 NOTES FROM YARMOUTH. 
 
 I visIrED Great Yarmouth in October 1875, to procure 
 some particulars for my official report on ‘The Fisheries 
 of Norfolk.2!_ When I had been there in June the sea 
 was almost as calm as a sheet of glass, and little wave- 
 lets gently washed upon the beach, the sands of which 
 were quite hot to the touch. The visitors were basking 
 on the shingle, or being photo’d by the photographer 
 on the beach, and the pleasure-boats were merrily 
 dancing about Vela dabant leti et spumas salis wre 
 vuebant. On looking out of the window of the Royal 
 Hotel on this October morning I found the weather 
 entirely changed from what it wasin June. An autumnal 
 gale, which had for some days been threatening, had come 
 into port from the north-east. The great ‘ white horses ’ 
 came rolling in from over the Scroby and other sandbanks 
 outside, and reaching the shallow gracefully curled them- 
 selves over, and then suddenly broke up with an awful 
 thud. They then formed themselves into light squadrons 
 of air-bubbles innumerable, which rushed up the beach 
 with a Balaclava-like charge, rattling the pebbles and 
 shingle, and making a terrible din as the waves hurled 
 them ashore, or swept them violently seawards. The 
 
 1 The Norfolk Fisheries Act, now in operation, was founded on this 
 report. 
 
 
 

 
 NOTES FROM YARMOUTH. 185 
 
 _ thought struck me that this boiling of the great waters 
 was a happy provision of the Creator to aérate His ocean, 
 for— 
 
 The sea is His, and He made it. 
 
 If the sea were allowed to remain stagnant several days 
 together, the water would become decomposed, lose its oxy- 
 gen, and be unfit for the sustenance of fish and the myriad 
 forms of animal life, ‘the things creeping innumerable,’ 
 which inhabit its vast waters. Storms, therefore, though 
 often terribly injurious to human life and property, are 
 necessary in the economy of the universe. Without them 
 we know not what catastrophe might happen in the ocean 
 world. It might even be ‘all up’ with the herrings. 
 
 As I came out of the hotel the wind came round the 
 corner with such violence that it was positively difficult 
 to progress. Dense sand-clouds came dashing in from 
 the shore with terrific violence, and in many places sand 
 covered the roadway so thickly that the carriages had 
 to go slowly through these newly formed obstructions. 
 However, we went out to the end of the pier, and it was 
 very beautiful to see the huge waves roll in with their 
 white-crested foam, and charge the piles of the pier till 
 the whole structure shivered again. 
 
 I immediately thought of Virgil’s deseription of a 
 storm which caught poor old Afneas, after he and his 
 army (like the Russians at the Crimea) had got a hiding 
 at Troy. What a fool he was to let that wooden horse, 
 filled with his enemies, Greek soldiers, into the city! 
 /Emneas could not have been a good observer, especially of 
 horses. 
 
186 NOTES FROM YARMOUTH. 
 
 And first of all, ladies and gentlemen, you must know 
 that in olden times lived, and may be even now living 
 at the bottom of the sea (especially in the North Sea 
 opposite Yarmouth), King Neptune, the lord of the sea. 
 The following beautiful description of the king’s submarine 
 palace and horses has been recorded by friend Homer. 
 I give the translation in English, as the Greek may be a 
 httle difficult to some of my readers :— 
 
 ‘Presently King Neptune descended from the rugged 
 mountain, rapidly advancing on foot, and the high hills 
 and woods trembled at Neptune’s tread. Thrice, indeed, 
 he strode forward, and with the fourth stride reached 
 Ege (i.e, Yarmouth), the place he sought. There 
 lofty mansions, resplendent with gold, ever incorruptible, 
 are erected for him in the depth of the sea. There 
 he yoked to his chariot the brazen-footed horses swiftly 
 flying with golden manes, but himself he clad in gold, 
 took his golden lash, beautifully fabricated, and mounted 
 the chariot. He drove over the billows ; the whales, ex- 
 ulting around him, rose on all sides from their recesses 
 to hail their king. The seas stood asunder for joy, and 
 the chariot flew very rapidly, nor was the brazen axle 
 wetted beneath; so his horses bounding on bore him 
 to the ships of the Greeks’ (%.e., the Yarmouth and 
 Gorleston fleet of herring-smacks). 
 
 ‘There is an ample cave in the abysses of the deep 
 sea between Tenedos and the rugged Imbrus’ (%.e., out 
 in the ‘Silver pits’ between Norway and Scotland, where 
 the soles live, so well known to the Yarmouth trawlers). 
 ‘There Neptune, the shaker of the earth, stopped his 
 horses, and loosing them from the chariot, cast beside 
 
 
 

 
 NOTES FROM YARMOUTH, 187 
 
 them ambrosial fodder to eat, and round their feet he 
 threw golden chains invincible, insoluble, that there they 
 might wait their king’s return.’ 
 
 Virgil takes up this idea very beautifully. The cave 
 where Neptune pulled up his four-in-hand is the cave of 
 Kolus, the king of the winds :— 
 
 Hic vasto rex AXolus antro 
 Luctantes ventos tempestatesque sonoras 
 Imperio premit ac vinclis et carcere frenat. 
 Illi indignantes magno cum murmure montis 
 
 Circum claustra fremunt. Celsa sedet Afolus arce 
 Sceptra tenens, mollitque animos et temperat iras. 
 
 ‘Here in a vast cave King Molus controls, with im- 
 perial sway, the turbulent winds and blustering tempests, 
 and confines them with chains in their prison. They 
 chafe indignant with loud roar around their mountain 
 barriers. AZolus, seated on a lofty throne, wields his 
 sceptre, and therewith calms their fury and moderates 
 their rage.’ | 
 
 It appears that Madame Jupiter, that is, Juno (she 
 must have been a disagreeable mawther'), had a spite 
 against poor Aineas for some reason or other, so she went 
 to AKolus, and, woman-like, humbugged him with the 
 promise of a bride, one Miss ‘ Deiopcea’ (rather a nice 
 girl, I should think, from hername). Juno then persuaded 
 /Eolus to let his pack of winds out of their kennel, and so 
 turn all Afneas’s fleet into ‘ Vanguards,’ and send them 
 to the ‘bottom of the deep blue sea.’ The following is 
 the description of King Aolus starting his winds for the 
 race across the ocean :— 
 
 1 Yarmouth for ‘ young woman.’ 
 
188 NOTES FROM YARMOUTH. 
 
 Hee ubi dicta cavum conversa cuspide montem 
 Impulit in latus ; ac venti velut agmine facto 
 
 Qua data porta, ruunt et terras turbine perflant. 
 Incubuere mari totumque a sedibus imis 
 
 Una Eurusque Notusque ruunt, creberque procellis 
 Africus et vastos volvunt ad litora fluctus. 
 Insequitur clamorque virum stridorque rudentum. 
 
 ‘Thus having said, whirling the point of his spear, he 
 
 struck the hollow mountain’s side; the winds, as in a- 
 
 formed battalion, rush forth at every vent, and scour over 
 the lands in giddy whirls. They ply the ocean furiously, 
 and at once, the east and south and stormy south-west 
 winds plough up the whole deep from its lowest bottom, 
 and roll vast billows to the shores. The cries of the sea- 
 men succeed, and the cracking of the cordage.’ 
 
 Well, then in came olus’ mighty winds to have a 
 turn at the good people of Yarmouth, and a very beauti- 
 ful sight it was. Presently a big steamer appeared in 
 
 the offing, and up went a flag on the staff opposite the 
 
 Sailors’ Home, and in an amazingly short time the 
 sharp-eyed signalman made out her flag with the tele- 
 scope. Her letters were W. D. R.; the books showed 
 that she was the ‘Bradspeth.’ In a few minutes more 
 it was known in London that the ‘ Bradspeth’ was passing 
 Yarmouth. The telegraph, close to the beach, is doing 
 wonders for the trade of Yarmouth. Every ship as 
 she passes Yarmouth shows her number by means of flags. 
 By referring to the book in the signal-house it can be 
 immediately seen who she is, and the news appears in the 
 shipping papers the next morning. 
 
 Among the noticeable features of Yarmouth are the 
 “look-outs.’ These are scaffolds, with a platform on the 
 
 
 

 
 NOTES FROM YARMOUTH. 189 
 
 top, from which the men on duty can see an immense dis- 
 tance out to sea. When we were standing on the pier I 
 saw a crowd begin to collect on the shore at some little dis- 
 tance. Of course, I ran to see what was the matter, and 
 was shocked to see, just washed ashore, a poor lad who had 
 been drowned when bathing a few days back. I was so 
 sorry for the poor lad, and thought of his father and mother 
 when they heard the news. A bystander told me that no 
 less than twenty-three poor sailors were once washed ashore 
 by one tide from a wreck outside. 
 
 Many shipwrecks occur every winter. The lifeboat 
 bell clanging loudly in the midst of a gale of wind in the 
 dead of a winter’s night, to signal the ‘turn-out’ to the 
 beachmen from their slumbers, is a sound which if once 
 heard will never be forgotten. I should like some musi- 
 cian to write a song, ‘Hark! ’tis the Lifeboat Bell.’ 
 
 From October to May the big lifeboat is kept on the 
 beach close to the water, to be ready at a moment’s notice ; 
 the rest of the year it lives in its stable. Ifthe boat is 
 launched for saving life in reply to signals of distress at 
 sea during the night-time, a certain fee is always payable. 
 If the boat is launched in the day, half the amount is 
 claimed. The smaller ‘surf-boat,’ as it is called, also re- 
 ceives regular fees for launching to save life. The sands 
 near Yarmouth are terribly dangerous. 
 
 Year after year, more especially during the time of 
 the equinoctial gales, very disastrous shipwrecks take 
 place; indeed, it is estimated that of the wrecks in 
 each year off the coast of Great Britain, more than 
 half occur off the eastern coast. There are various sands 
 which protect the Roads: Scroby hes opposite the town, 
 
190 NOTES FROM YARMOUTH. * 
 
 and is the principal one in extent; the others are 
 N ewarp, Cockle, Barber Corton, Newcomb, and Holm 
 Sands. The entrances to the Roads are by gatways, the 
 principal of which are St. Nicholas’ and Hewitt’s. 
 
 From the Britannia Pier we could see some vessels at 
 anchor, rolling and pitching about in a most fearful 
 manner; so much did they roll that it was easy to see 
 down their cabin stairs, and the wonder was thet oo men 
 were not washed out of them. 
 
 Fogs are very nasty things in the North Sea. When 
 going through Yarmouth Harbour I heard a most dismal 
 sound ; this noise was our friend Captain Emerson, of the 
 Trinity Board, making hideous diapasons with his new 
 patent steam fog-horn. 
 
 I must not omit to mention that excellent institution, 
 the Sailors’ Home, on the beach. In this admirable in- 
 stitution there is every possible convenience for the care 
 of shipwrecked sailors. A most excellent place it is, and 
 well worthy the support of visitors and the public in 
 general. During the past year no less than 138 ship- 
 wrecked sailors were relieved, making the total number 
 received since its establishment 3,986. 
 
 In the yard of the Custom House I examined a capital — 
 mermaid on duty at the foot of the signal post. She is 
 life-size, and represents a really very pretty woman; the 
 fish’s tail is capitally made. This mermaid answers exactly 
 to Horace’s description,— 
 
 Desinit in piscem mulier formosa superne. 
 
 One of the most curious features in Yarmouth is its 
 ‘Rows,’ and in this respect it resembles no other town in 
 
 
 

 
 NOTES FROM YARMOUTH. 191 
 
 England. The ‘Rows’ are straight, long, and narrow, 
 with houses on either side; the residents*have been 
 known to shake hands from opposite windows. They are 
 paved with large pebbles from the beach. 
 
 I understand that these Rows were invented by the 
 fishermen who were the first inhabitants of Yarmouth; 
 they used to hang their herring nets in long rows on the 
 beach. After a time they built the huts alongside the 
 beach; the houses in time took the places of the huts; 
 this, then, was the origin of the Yarmouth Rows. 
 
 It was necessary, of course, that some provision should 
 be made to get heavy goods down to the houses in the 
 Rows. In Yarmouth, therefore, there exists a kind of cart 
 which, I believe,is unique. ‘Two long and strong timbers 
 form the shafts for the horse. Immediately behind the 
 horse’s tail boards are inserted between the shafts, and 
 then comes a platform somewhat in the shape of an easy 
 chair, the seat sloping, and without arms. The whole of 
 this rude, but yet very convenient kind of vehicle, is sup- 
 ported by two wheels cut out of solid wood, and joined 
 together by a wooden axle, which run inside as in a rail- 
 way carriage. Wheels of this kind are of very ancient 
 origin, and if I recollect right the war chariot of the 
 ancient Romans ran upon solid wheels just like these 
 Yarmouth carts, which are called trolls. The fact is, it 
 is a very difficult thing indeed to make a wheel or a barrel. 
 The only thing that beat Robinson Crusoe was the manu- 
 facture of a cask, and I dare say there are very few of my 
 readers who know how to make a watertight cask. 
 
 When the trawlers come in laden with fish they trans- 
 fer them to very large boats rowed by several men, and 
 
192 NOTES FROM YARMOUTH. 
 
 thence into trolls, which are backed into the water. 
 
 These boat are very strong, and admirably fitted to fight 
 
 the surf, which sometimes breaks with terrific foree. The — 
 
 poor horses must suffer much in drawing the heavy-laden 
 trolls through the deep shingle; surely, for humanity’s 
 sake, a platform or tramway of some kind might be de- 
 vised and put into operation. 
 
 The Church of St. Nicholas at Yarmouth is most inter- — 
 
 esting. The organ is said to be inferior only in power to 
 the celebrated organ at Haarlem. When completed it 
 will be one of the best, if not the best, in England. Over 
 this venerable organ is a gilt figure of a bishop, with mitre 
 and crosier. To this venerable wooden prelate I took a 
 great fancy. This Yarmouth bishop is very like in face 
 to our founder of Winchester College and New College, 
 Oxford, William of Wykeham. 
 
 When visiting this beautiful church at Yarmouth, the 
 visitor cannot fail to be struck with the numerous records 
 of officers and men of merchant and other ships who have 
 been drowned in the great North Sea, itself not so very 
 far from the walls of St. Nicholas. 
 
 Behind the door of the church, at the west end, is an 
 enormous bone, which looks exactly like a huge arm-chair. 
 The parishioners of Yarmouth do not seem to know much 
 about this bone; and at first it gave me some little trouble 
 to find out what it really was. Ultimately I made out 
 quite suddenly that it is part of the skull—the occipital 
 bone and part of the parietal—of a large sperm whale, pro- 
 bably washed ashore near Yarmouth, and converted into a 
 relic for the church. The vicar, the Rev. Mr. Venables, 
 could not tell me what it was, but I have cut up the skull 
 
 al 
 
 
 
 Se 
 

 
 NOTES FROM YARMOUTH. 193 
 
 of a common porpoise to represent this balzenarian chair 
 
 in St. Nicholas’s Church, and prove that my diagnosis 
 
 of its nature is correct ! 
 Yarmouth is a very healthy place, and I advise any 
 who do not know whither to go fora holiday to patro- 
 
 1 The following note is from Lubbock’s Fauna of Norfolk, 2nd ed., 
 p. 16 :-— 
 
 ‘No recent occurrence of the sperm whale (Physeter macrocephalus 
 Linn.) on the Norfolk coast is on record, but Sir Thomas Browne says, 
 «“ A spermaceti whale sixty-two feet long [came on shore] near Wales 
 [about 1646]; another of the same kind twenty years before [June 1626 | 
 at Hunstanton ; and not far off eight or nine came ashore, and two had 
 young ones after they were forsaken by the water ” (Wilkin’s edit. iv. 
 p.326). In December 1626, according to Booth’s History of Norfolk (ix. 
 p. 33), a great whale, fifty-seven feet in length—from his excellent descrip- 
 tion evidently a male sperm whale—was cast on shore at Holme-next-the- 
 Sea; and lastly, Mr. Arthur Bacon, of Yarmouth, writes to Sir Thomas 
 Browne, on May 10, 1652, of the sperm whale cast on shore there (i. p. 369). 
 In St. Nicholas’ Church, Great Yarmouth, is the basal portion of the skull 
 of a whale of this species. It is placed near the door at the west end 
 of the church, and used asa chair. Mr. C. J. Palmer, of Yarmouth, 
 informs me that in the churchwardens’ accounts for 1606 there is a 
 charge of eight shillings for painting this skull, which fully establishes 
 its great antiquity. The full-grown males of the sperm whales are said 
 to be generally solitary in their habits, except when migrating from one 
 place to another; and it seems probable that the majority of those 
 which occur singly on the British shores are these solitary males, which 
 have wandered from their true habitat, the warm sea sof the tropics. 
 But when they visit usin numbers, as mentioned by Sir Thomas Browne, 
 they are most likely adult females, or young males, which associate in 
 separate herds.’ 
 
 These wandering parties would, as a matter of course, be more fre- 
 quent when the species was more numerous, and when once entangled 
 in the shallows of the German Ocean, want of sea room and of suitable 
 nourishment would soon bring about their destruction. The statement 
 by Swinden (p. 885, edition published 1772) is as follows :—‘ Near this 
 door, under a niche, stands a large old jaw-bone of a whale. It formerly 
 was used for a seat at the church grate (gate ?) under the old Guildhall.’ 
 Comparative anatomy was not understood then as it now is, or this would 
 not have been mistaken for a jaw-bone. It is the portion of the skull 
 upon which the lower part of the brain rests, 
 
 10) 
 
194 NOTES FROM YARMOUTH. 
 
 nise Yarmouth. So healthy is this interesting seaport, 
 that I understand from my friend Dr. N orman that the 
 gravedigger some time since became insolvent through 
 want of professional occupation. When brought up be- 
 fore the County Court he attributed his insolvency to 
 better drainage of the town, and the supply of water 
 from Ormsby Broad, but more especially to the scarcity of 
 doctors as compared with former times, when he first 
 entered upon his professional duties. ‘ Gentlemen,’ said 
 he, ‘a poor fellow then had some chance of a living ; now 
 I have only buried twelve and a half the last fortnight, 
 so I leave you to guess how I have to get a bit of bread in 
 these here hard times.’ 
 
 The trawlers of the North Sea have, above all men, 
 opportunities of finding out much that is going on in the 
 subaqueous treasure-houses of the ocean. This ocean is 
 not only the habitation of myriads of living creatures, but 
 is also a cemetery containing the bones of creatures that 
 lived in past ages. 
 
 Amongst the treasures of the deep often brought up by 
 trawlers or their nets, the bones of elephants frequently 
 occur. In the museum of the Sailors’ Home at Yarmouth. 
 there is a’ very interesting collection of the bones of 
 elephants, dredged up between the English coast and 
 Heligoland, off the mouth of the Elbe. 
 
 At no very ancient geological period England was cer- 
 tainly united with France, and it is supposed by some that 
 the Thames did not at that time flow into the sea at the 
 place where it now does, but that the river broke through 
 the ridge of chalk, somewhere to the northof Reading, and 
 - emptied itself into the ocean in the estuary of the Humber. 
 
 
 

 
 NOTES FROM YARMOUTH. 195 
 
 At the same time it is the opinion of some that a mighty 
 river larger than the Rhine drained the European con- 
 tinent. | 
 
 These two rivers probably brought down into the sea 
 the bodies of dead elephants. This, I believe, is the 
 ~ usual explanation of their bones being found in the North 
 Sea: but elephants’ bones are found abundantly in other 
 parts of England, at Woolwich, Sheppey, the London gravel 
 beds, Oxfordshire, Abingdon, Arundel, and many other 
 places. It may be that the North Sea now eovers tracts 
 once shaded by forests, the home of these huge beasts. 
 
 Yarmouth, as we all know so well, is one of the chief 
 fishery ports in England. There are 400 to 500 smacks 
 marked Y. H. registered at this port, and besides these a 
 fleet of Scotch and other boats come here every autumn 
 for the herring fishing; the value of the fish landed each 
 year at Yarmouth is very great—but I am not writing 
 a fishery book, so must not be tempted into details. 
 
 Not only does the sea at Yarmouth yield fish, but also 
 even, sometimes, ready-made money, for when looking 
 over the Britannia Pier, during the yale, I noticed many 
 men and boys anxiously waiting the coming in of the big 
 waves. Every now and then one of them would rush into 
 the boiling wash and snatch up something out of the 
 shingle. I ascertained that these people were looking for 
 money, which was being washed out from the shingle com- 
 posing the beach. One man got as many as six sovereigns 
 the day I was there, others smaller sums; the theory is 
 that visitors drop the money out of their pockets when 
 lying on the shingle. 
 
 Nearly every year coins are found on Yarmouth beach. 
 
 0 2 
 
196 NOTES FROM YARMOUTH. 
 
 From sixteen to twenty sovereigns were found lately near 
 the pier; they were all of modern date. This is a matter 
 worthy of further investigation. I don’t think the theory 
 of visitors dropping their sovereigns will quite do. 
 
 I also heard a new theory why the weather was so 
 bad at one time. An old salt was smoking his clay and 
 looking out discontentedly seawards. On being asked the 
 cause of the bad weather the old man gave the following 
 account :— 
 
 ‘Yesee,’ he says, ‘it’s all along of the san; the sun, he 
 have a shiny side and he have a dark side, and now he 
 turns his dark side to Yarmouth. I have a friend in the 
 town they call a hastronomer as pilots the stars, and he 
 says the old sun got foul of the comet, he got jammed up 
 in the meshes of this ’ere comet’s tail. Then directly after 
 there come a heclipse, and the sun, he has never been 
 hisself not never since ; heain’t well, and can’t do his waark 
 [work] not nohow.’ 
 
 Amongst the many charitable institutions which 
 Yarmouth boasts is the Fishermen’s Hospital, a quad- 
 rangular building near St. Nicholas’ Church. It was built 
 by the Corporation in 1702 at a cost of 621/. Since its 
 erection various sums have been bequeathed; these now 
 produce 492. 10s. per annum. 
 
 Seeing some poor old weather-beaten men basking in 
 the sun, I thought I would see what evidence they could 
 give me about the herring fishery when they were young. 
 I was fortunate enough to obtain evidence from Mr. Silvers, 
 aged 85, and from Mr. Colby, aged 71, who had both served 
 nearly all their lives as man and boy in the North Sea. 
 Tbe answer from both these veterans was, that there are 
 
 
 

 
 NOTES FROM YARMOUTH. 197 
 
 as many if not more herrings caught now than 70 or 80 
 years ago, and this in spite of the increased number of 
 boats and nets. I was very much struck with the manners 
 and appearance of old Mr. Silvers; in spite of his age, 
 hale, hearty, and contented, with a regular fisherman’s eye, 
 which no one accustomed to deep-sea fishermen can mis- 
 take. He told me some of his history which was as 
 follows :— 
 
 ‘T was born in 1790, and have been a sailor and fisher- 
 man from a sprat to a whale ail my life. When I was 
 about thirteen years old I was ’prenticed to a cooper, and 
 after being with him some time, he sent me out for a short 
 voyage in a vessel he freighted, as I was a strong lad. 
 When I came back I went on larning my trade till I was 
 just seventeen. One cold winter's night in the year 1806 
 —Trafalgar was fought Oct. 21, 1805—I was a-standing in 
 a public-house in Yarmouth, called the “‘ Horse and Gig,” 
 with two other boys; a blind fiddler who was there was 
 just a-going to tune up for us, when in rushed the press- 
 gang and took the lot of us. We was took off in boats to 
 a man-of-war lying in Yarmouth Roads, and kept aboard 
 all night, and brought before the officers in the morning. 
 Those who had a protection were never kept, as there was 
 a law against it. A protection is this:—‘If you was 
 bound a ’prentice in those days to any trade, that pro-. 
 tected you from being taken ; for you was obliged to serve 
 your time till the seven years indenters was out. 
 
 ‘That fiddler, he was let off at once, as, being blind, of 
 course he was no use; and my master, he come aboard in 
 the morning, thinking he could get me off as being a ’pren- 
 tice, but he happened to say I had been to sea in his 
 
198 NOTES FROM YARMOUTH. 
 
 vessel, so the officers said that was enough, and I could not — 
 now be protected. I had six hours to go ashore and bid 
 my father and mother good-bye, and then I had to go to 
 my ship and serve in the King’s service. 
 
 ‘I was away six years from old Yarmouth. A lot of us © 
 was taken prisoner by the Danes; we were marched three 
 hundred miles through their country to the prison, where 
 I was thirteen months, almost starved I was. After being 
 there all that time, I was let go; the English admiral gave 
 up two Danish prisoners for one Englishman. Then I 
 joined my ship and soon came home. After that I went 
 away with Admiral Young in the Victoria. One day 
 when I was a-walking on the deck I see a gentleman a 
 beckoning of me, so I went up to him, and it was my old 
 master, Captain Hutchinson, who had a schooner of eighteen 
 guns called the “ Pigmy.” He said to me, “ Why, Silvers, 
 how ever came you here?” So I told him what I had been 
 doing; and he says, “ Well, would you like to come with 
 me, or stay where you are?” In course I said, “ Well, 
 sir, | would rather be with you than any one.” So he man- 
 aged with the admiral, and on I goes aboard the schooner. 
 We started for Gibraltar, and left there during the ’Meri- 
 can war, landing at Plymouth with the Government 
 mails. | 
 
 ‘Well, I runned away that very day, and I went to 
 Exeter, from there to London, and then on to Yarmouth ; 
 but when I got here I was as bad off as ever, for the 
 pressgang was out, and I daren’t stop, or they’d have 
 nabbed me sure ercugh. So off I goes to Hull, and from 
 there I goes a fishing to Greenland for three years after 
 whales and ile. I know’d the pressgang couldn’t catch 
 
 
 

 
 NOTES FROM YARMOUTH. 199 
 
 me there anyhow. When I returned from Hull again the 
 ’Merican war was over, and peace proclaimed, so I had 
 to remain in Yarmouth; and then I went out in fishing- 
 _ boats for owners, after herring. I have helped kill many 
 a whale. We used to get half-a-guinea a fish, and 50s. 
 per week. It will take the Arctic Expedition all their 
 time to get to the North Pole, and when they get there 
 there is nothing but ice and rocks. I never was higher 
 than 72° myself. But them press days was terrible, that 
 they was. Why, they once took our Mayor of Yarmouth 
 (he was a rum-looking old chap), when he was a standing 
 on the jetty. They didn’t care. One time a whole lot of 
 carpenters went together, and when the gang came ashore 
 the carpenters took and chopped the boats all to bits. 
 In course, they was took up, and sent to Norwich Castle. 
 When they was tried in London they was sentenced to 
 twelve months’ imprisonment in the castle, and one of 
 the poor fellows died there.’ 
 
 Mr. Silvers showed me how he made tea, an ounce of 
 which lasted him a week in a general way. ‘ Gentlefolks 
 do not taste half the goodness of tea,’ he said; ‘ they 
 don’t boil it enough. Why, the tea-leaves that gentle- 
 men’s floors are swept with would make rare, beautiful 
 tea for me.’ Half a crown a week this old man lives on; 
 and he proudly said he did ‘ everything for himself, except 
 once in three weeks, when he gave a woman threepence 
 to “ lap up the water ” off the floor, while he scrubbed it 
 with a brush on the end of a pole.’ . 
 
 You see,’ he added, ‘I can’t go on my knees now, I 
 haven’t been active for twelve years, for I got a shot in 
 the leg when I was in the sarvice, and as I grew older I 
 
200 NOTES FROM YARMOUTH. 
 
 felt it the more. The only thing I wish for is to have 
 some one come and see me sometimes. I haven’t a rela- 
 tion in the world; but I don’t wish to complain. I sit 
 here and read when I have anything, and a book that a 
 kind lady sent me I have read over and over again. 
 When I can’t do that I sit and think over old times, as I 
 
 do when I am restless 0’ nights. Please God, come next — 
 
 4th of August I shall be eighty-five, and a good deal have 
 happened in that time to think over.’ 
 
 After leaving my old friend, I could not help thinking 
 of the old saying, ‘Not one half of the world knows how 
 the other half live. This poor old man in his lonely 
 home, with but comparatively few comforts, is far mo 
 contented than hundreds with every luxury. Not % 
 murmur does he utter, and not a wish to be better off, 
 
 but with his cheerful disposition and good heart sees, or 
 
 endeavours to see, ‘in each dark cloud a silver lining.’ 
 Those who wish to have a real treat would do well 
 to take my advice and go ‘by Great Eastern Railway 
 to Yarmouth to inspect the herring harvest, which begins 
 at that port in the month of September. For some 
 days an increased number of tug steamers and smacks 
 may be noticed either coming in or going out of 
 Gorleston Harbour. These are the drifters bringing in 
 their fish from the great North Sea. These powerful 
 
 tugs tow the herring-boats alongside the Yarmouth 
 
 fish quay, and of all sights in England this quay is at 
 this season one of the most wonderful. The quay is 
 admirably built for the purposes it is intended to fulfil. 
 The merchants’ offices are all on one side, faced by a 
 solid stone pavement, with a road only intervening be- 
 
 
 
 “ . a 
 ~ A 4 = ee ge, 
 ee a) ee a ee a 
 

 
 NOTES FROM YARMOUTH. 201 
 
 tween them and the Suez Canal, as I call that portion of 
 the Yare which flows past the town, and in which the 
 herring-smacks are brought alongside. 
 
 The market begins every morning in the season at ten 
 o’clock. Large bodies of men, as strong as lions, are em- 
 ployed in unloading the smacks. As the herrings are 
 caught at sea they are put down into the hold and mixed 
 with salt; arriving at the quay, they are sent up in bulk 
 on to the deck, and are there counted. 
 
 The counter takes two herrings in each hand and very 
 quickly puts them into the basket. The men get three 
 shillings a last for ‘ telling —that is, counting the her- 
 rings. Four herrings are called a ‘warp.’ From the 
 basket the herrings are emptied out into large baskets 
 called ‘ swills.’ Each swill contains 500 herrings of long 
 tale—that is, 132 for 100—a very ancient measurement. 
 A last of herrings contains 13,200 fish. 
 
 I found the pavement of the fish-quay almost covered 
 with these swills full of herrings, and it seemed wonderful 
 to me how ever they were going to be disposed of. 
 
 Presently a man comes along with a bell, and the fish- 
 buyers turn out to the place where the sale is going to take 
 place. The auctioneer takes his seat with each foot ona 
 swill, a red note-book and pencil in hand. He begins at 
 once, with his loud, cheery voice, ‘ What shall I say for this 
 lot?’ J see no sign and hear no bid! Somebody has 
 made a bid, for he begins most rapidly, ‘ Eleven—eleven— 
 eleven—eleven ; ten—ten—ten—ten—ten; eleven fif- 
 teen—thank you; look at ’em again—a splendid lot of 
 fish—don’t lose the lot for a crown; twelve—twelve— 
 twelve—at last twelve fifteen.’ The little pencil hits the 
 
202 NOTES FROM YARMOUTH. 
 
 book, and the lot is sold—to whom, it is impossible for me 
 to say. 
 
 The purchasers stand round in perfect silence, but 
 though pretty quick in the eye I cannot see their bids. 
 A movement of the eye, a slight turn of the head, or 
 other mysterious sign incomprehensible to the public, is 
 quite enough for the auctioneer to take the bid. — 
 
 No sooner is one lot sold than he puts up another. I 
 give him a nudge, pretend to wind him up (on his great 
 broad back) like a clock with a key, and he puts on the. 
 steam in reality then; and the wonderful way and clever 
 chaff with which he leads on his bidders to buy is most 
 amusing, putting the famous auctioneer of our ancestors, 
 Robins, quite in the shade. The prices vary according to — 
 the quality of the herrings and demand in the market. 
 One lot was knocked down at 16/. 15s. for twenty swills. 
 
 The fish first out of the hold are the most valuable ; 
 those last out do not fetch so much money, as they are 
 salter. The herrings on sale were North Sea herrings, 
 very large fine fish. I examined the milts and roes, and 
 found they were not quite in spawning condition, but 
 very nearly so. A shoal was just then reported a few 
 points west’ by north-west, direct from Yarmouth, near 
 the Doggerbank. 
 
 The result of my earnest consultations at Yarmouth 
 enables me to classify the herrings somewhat as follows : 
 Spring herrings, long-shore herrings, midsummer her- 
 rings, and deep-sea herrings, the latter of two kinds. But 
 this is such an intricate question, I cannot go into it 
 here. 
 
 The process of curing is as follows: the swills full of 
 
 
 

 
 NOTES FROM YARMOUTH. 203 
 
 herrings are brought to the curing-house and turned out 
 on the floor; the men then mix them about with shovels, 
 while another man scatters salt plentifully over them. 
 The herrings are then placed in a heap and allowed to 
 remain a certain time, then washed in a huge tub, then 
 spitted (a process called ‘riving’). Spits are sticks per- 
 fectly round. The stick is passed through one gill; and 
 each spit, which carries twenty-five herrings when full, 
 is hung up on what is called a ‘horse’ fora time. The 
 fish are hung up in such a way that they can all be 
 stripped off very quickly. The smoking-house consists of 
 a large room; upon looking up to the ceiling may be seen 
 a great number of racks, called ‘grills;’ the space between 
 the racks is just the length of the spits. A man climbs 
 up to the very top of these racks, another places himself 
 halfway down, another man is on the floor, and the spits 
 with the herrings are passed from one man to the other, 
 and immediately hung up until the place is qnite full of 
 herrings suspended by their gills. Fires of oak and cak 
 sawdust are then lighted on the floor below. The oak is - 
 chop-and-lop from the forests, and is sold by the cast; 
 each bit of wood has a peculiar marking on it. Here, 
 again, we have a strange measurement: in the sale of 
 wood 1,000 stands for 600. The red herrings are smoked 
 six or seven weeks, to give them a good deep red colour. 
 During this process some fall off the spits; these are 
 ealled ‘plucks’ and ‘tenders,’ and are collected and 
 hung up again by the tail on what are called ‘tenter 
 baulks.’ 
 
 Real Yarmouth bloaters are herrings very slightly 
 salted, and smoked for three or four hours only. In this 
 
204 NOTES FROM YARMOUTH. 
 
 quickly taken off their spits and packed into barrels; a 
 small barrel contains 200, a large barrel 660. They are 
 
 packed with their heads outermost, and in order to save 
 
 room they are occasionally pressed under a heavy iron 
 screw, somewhat resembling the apparatus for making 
 cheese. The herrings cured at Yarmouth in this way 
 are mostly sent to the Mediterranean by fast steamers. 
 The question of salt is of great importance. That 
 which I saw was very hard, and in beautiful crystals 
 resembling snow. This salt came from Nantwich, in 
 Cheshire, and is brought to Yarmouth in steamers. — 
 
 After inspecting the curing-houses we calculated how ~ 
 
 many industries must be put into action before the barrelled 
 
 process they puff up somewhat, hence they are called 
 ‘bloaters.’ When the fish are quite prepared, they are 
 
 herrings leave Yarmouth. Thus: 1, boats and rigging, 
 
 &e. 3 2, nets; 3, salt ; 4, steam-tugs; 5, salesmen and staff ; 
 6, baskets and swills; 7, carrying carts; 8, washing the 
 herrings; 9, spits; 10, riving and hanging; 11, oak for 
 smoking ; 12, packing; 13, barrels; 14, freight, besides 
 employment to a vast number of smacksmen. Thus we 
 see of what importance red herrings are to Yarmouth, 
 and to how many people and trades they give employment. 
 Surely we English should be most grateful to Providence 
 for giving our country such a rich harvest of the sea. I 
 wish I could persuade some of our influential M.P.’s to 
 come down to Yarmouth and see the immense amount 
 of capital and labour involved in the herring fisheries. 
 
 We held our official inquiry at Lowestoft in the 
 ‘Fisherman’s Shelter.’ This is a most excellent institu- 
 tion—a large wooden building with plenty of air and 
 
 
 
 a a a 
 

 
 NOTES FROM YARMOUTH. 205 
 
 light, roofed inside like a new church. There is every 
 accommodation for fishermen: excellent tables, good 
 seats, and, above all, good food—cheap, very cheap. 
 A man can get meat, bread, cheese, cocoa, tea, and coffee 
 there for a surprisingly small price. I myself had lunch 
 there off some capital American beef, that was really first- 
 rate. This institution is greatly, if not altogether, indebted 
 to Colonel Leathes, of Herringfleet Hall, for its foundation, 
 and the admirable way in which it is now kept up. The 
 fishermen can come in and out in their working clothes, 
 and get warmth, excellent food, cocoa, &c., much better 
 than they could at any public. In bad weather especially 
 is the Shelter patronised by these brave North Sea fisher- 
 men. Smoking is allowed, which adds greatly to its 
 success. 
 
 A curious fact which came to my notice at Lowestoft 
 is the acclimatisation of lobsters about the pier. Some 
 years ago a box full of live Norwegian lobsters, the pro- 
 perty of a local fish merchant, got adrift and was broken 
 up; there were in this lot several ‘berried hens,’ 2,¢., lobsters 
 carrying eggs under their tails. The lobsters escaped, and 
 have now permanently established themselves among the 
 rocks. This is a good hint to those who wish to try 
 lobster cultivation elsewhere, and there are many places 
 admirably suited for the experiment. 
 
 I saw that the teredo is making havoc with the wood 
 piles of some of the harbour structure. The rascals, in 
 spite of copper nails, get in and will scoop out the piles 
 till they become as hollow as chimneys. The fishing- 
 smacks going in and out of the harbour were beautiful to 
 
 see. A tug was continually going to and fro from the inner 
 
206 NOTES FROM YARMOUTH. 
 
 harbour, saving the men’s time and labour by tugging 4 
 the boats either in or out. The quantity of trawl fish on 
 the quay was something amazing, and how it is that the 
 North Sea is not trawled out may be a wonder to many. 
 Still, we must recollect that if England was cut out of a 
 map and placed on the North Sea, drawn to the same scale, 
 England and Scotland could be sunk in the North Sea, — 
 and space still be left over. Again, supposing the trawling — ; 
 vessels to be represented by balloons, and the soles, &c., ; 
 by human beings, the ballooners would be a long time 
 before they could trawl up all the men, women, and 
 children in England and Scotland. 
 
 I think I have said elsewhere that a trawl net fished 
 almost immediately behind another trawl net would often 
 catch even more fish than the first net. I think this 
 might be illustrated by what I saw at Yarmouth. There | 
 was a wedding at the big church of the place, and when 
 the people saw the carriages going to the wedding they 
 all began to run after the carriages. During the wedding 
 the crowd assembled, and then came the trawl net, as 
 represented by the carriages, into the thick of the crowd 
 to take away the bride and bridegroom, and their friends ; 
 but the more carriages that came, picking up a certain 
 number of the wedding party from the crowd, the thicker 
 the crowd became. 
 
 I was,much amused at a large red-faced fisherman’s 
 reception of the bride; he established his monstrous self 
 right opposite the window of the bride’s carriage waiting 
 at the door of the church. He was dressed fisherman 
 fashion—tarpaulin hat and jersey. Move, not he! There 
 he stayed with his great ugly head right inside the 
 
 
 

 
 NOTES FROM YARMOUTH. 207 
 
 carriage till the bride moved off from amid the charity 
 children, old women, babies, and the whole turn-out of 
 the poorer parts of Yarmouth, to whom a gratuitous 
 exhibition such as a wedding is a great amusement and 
 delight. | 
 Yarmouth fair happened to take place when I was 
 there. Of course I went into the shows. The best thing 
 by far was the Hairless Horse. Yes, he was perfectly 
 hairless, as bald as a billiard: ball. His hair had not been 
 shaved, he had never had any. Some part of the skin 
 was white, the rest black: the white was very white, like 
 the skin of a sucking pig; the black was the black of 
 the edible Chinese dog, also called the ‘ India-rubber Dog.’ 
 _ There was also on view a living skeleton—certainly a 
 skeleton something awful to look at. He was said to be 
 thirty-four; he might have been any age. He was awfully 
 thin. His wrist would pass through a gauge of one inch 
 and one-eighth. I asked the skeleton what he lived on. 
 He said, ‘ Rump-steaks and porter.’ Anyhow, he certainly 
 did not grow fat on it. I went also to see a ‘ Petrified 
 Mummy,’ about which the showman of course had a long 
 yarn to tell. This was an old friend that I am continually 
 coming across at penny shows—viz., the ‘ Abogine.’ The 
 history of the ‘ Abogine’ is as follows: He is a dried 
 Australian native, thrown in as a bargain with some 
 shells, spears, &c., in a lot, and bought by a dealer. The 
 shells, &c., were sold, but not the dried Australian, and 
 the dealer got quite tired of his bargain. At last he 
 called him an ‘ Abogine,’ and chopped him to some penny 
 showman for some monkeys. The poor ‘ Abogine’ does 
 not get on; showmen can’t make money out of him. The 
 
208 - NOTES FROM YARMOUTH. | 
 
 * 
 
 
 
 
 
 word has been a little twisted. i x. 
 
 There were a tremendous number of roundabouts in 
 the fair. Why the women, children, and men do not get 
 giddy and fall out of these model boats and rocking-horses, 
 I can’t tell. The sailors were great at the swings, and, I 
 must say, were sent up fearful heights, higher than ane 
 landsmen could or would go. | : 
 

 
 209 
 
 LONDON LIRDCATCHERS. 
 
 PiscaTor et Auceps visited in August 1878 my friend 
 Mr. Higford Burr, at Aldermaston Park, Reading. Pisca- 
 tor is myself, Auceps a professional London birdcatcher, 
 Mr. Davy, whose name is well known to ornithological 
 collectors both in London and elsewhere as a dealer and 
 as a first-class authority on everything pertaining to 
 British birds. 
 
 I proposed to Mr. Burr that I should bring Davy down 
 to Aldermaston, that the party staying at the house might 
 see the process of catching wild birds, an art about which 
 Londoners know but little. 
 
 Arriving at Aldermaston in company with the Squire, 
 Mrs. Burr, Sir Austen Layard, then Minister at Madrid, 
 Lady Layard, Dr. Hooker, Mr. Fergusson, &c. &e., we at 
 once started to pitch the net at a place selected by Davy. 
 He told the head keeper he wanted to find a place where the 
 birds came to drink; so, guided by the Squire with his big 
 walking-stick, we at once proceeded to the fish-house, 
 where the Squire breeds his great lake trout, in one of 
 the wildest parts of the forest. The forest at Aldermaston 
 is one of the most beautiful in that part of the country ; the 
 oaks in it are of very great antiquity, some as old, if not 
 older than those in Windsor Park. The Squire takes 
 
 P 
 
210 LONDON BIRDCATCHERS, 
 
 great care of these venerable oaks, and doctors them up in a 
 
 their extreme age. Passing through the forest, it was in- 
 teresting to watch Davy, as he trudged: along with his 
 call-birds and net in ‘ the pack’ on his back through the 
 thick ferns, looking up into the trees, and giving dif- 
 ferent call-bird notes as he went on. His diagnosis of 
 the forest was not, however, very promising. ‘ Not 
 much here, sir,’ he said, ‘except owls and woodpeckers.’ 
 And just at that moment, as luck would have it, a wood- 
 pecker began to holloa. ‘ Hark at him,’ he said; ‘that’s a 
 spotted woodpecker; there ought to be several kinds of 
 woodpeckers in this forest.’ ‘ Yes,’ said the Squire, ‘ there 
 are, and I never allow the keepers to shoot them under 
 any pretence.’ The Squire well knows how very useful 
 these unpaid servants the woodpeckers are in the manage- 
 ment of forest trees. 3 
 
 Just by a gate which led us through the high iron deer- 
 fence Davy suddenly halted, and said, ‘ Mr. Buckland, sir, 
 there’s an owl’s nest in that tree.’ ‘If there is,’ I said, 
 ‘Davy, there should be some pellets at the bottom.’ So 
 the Squire and myself routed about among the grass, and 
 in a few minutes we found some eight or ten owls’ pellets. 
 These consist of balls which look like matted hair. After 
 the owl has eaten a mouse, he spits up the hair and the 
 bones in one mass, all the flesh being digested. I have 
 just dissolved out one (only one) of these pellets in water. 
 I find in it the almost perfect skull of a shrew mouse with 
 the most lovely little teeth, and also half the skull of a 
 common mouse. The bones of the shrew are indeed 
 most delicate. I know no other bone the structure of 
 which is so beautiful, and, at the same time, so light. 
 
 
 

 
 LONDON BIRDCATCHERS. — 211 
 
 The Squire’s owls not. only keep down the mice, but at 
 night they give us a most lovely serenade, to my ears far 
 more interesting than the singing of any prima donna at — 
 the Italian Opera. ‘Should not wonder if there isn’t 
 some young owls in that nest,’ said Davy. ‘Up you go, 
 then,’ said I, ‘ and look.’ ‘There’s been young owls here,’ 
 said he, after he had examined, ‘and I can’t tell, they may 
 be in the nest now,’ as he showed me a lot of the down of 
 the young birds. He then explained the proper way to 
 take young owls. The owl’s nest is often deep down in a 
 tree ; it is necessary to wait till the owls get to a certain 
 size; the best way then to catch them is to roll upa 
 stocking or ball of worsted, fastening on a piece of string 
 and letting it down into the nest; the birds immediately 
 turn on their backs and claw at the stocking ; they have 
 not sense to let go, and up they come. 
 
 The old oaks in Aldermaston Park are very favourite 
 breeding-places for owls, and the Squire does not allow 
 them to be shot. 
 
 The next morning, after breakfast, Mr. Davy reported 
 to the Squire and myself that he had been out very early 
 to see what the park produced in the shape of birds. He 
 reported numbers of thrushes, blackbirds, jackdaws, star- 
 lings, and rooks, but he had not seen a magpie. He had 
 heard one or two jays, abundance of green woodpeckers, 
 and a few of the summer soft-meat birds, such as 
 the flycatcher, willow-wren, chiff-chaff, and a common 
 shrike.. There was not a small seed-eating bird to be 
 seen either in the forest or the park. The only way 
 Davy could account for their non-appearance was that the 
 park and forest lands had been kept clear of seed-bearing 
 
 Ee 
 
212 - LONDON BIRDCATCHERS. 
 
 
 
 weeds. He was certain large numbers of all kinds of — 
 birds had been bred in the Squire’s forest and in the gorse, — 
 but having brought out their young they had now left for — 
 their feeding-places. | 
 
 The Squire gave Davy permission to lay his nets 
 wherever he chose. He selected a spot close to the end of 
 a most beautiful shaded avenue. The process of laying the 
 nets is somewhat as follows:—Two nets, twelve yards ; 
 long, and when open covering the ground for twenty feet in 
 width, are neatly laid down on the ground. To the far 
 ends of the nets are attached staves. The distance Davy 
 stood from the nets to work them was about eighteen yards. © 
 It is impossible to describe the rough yet very excellent 
 machinery by which a pull on the rope held by the bird- 
 eatcher will make these harmless-looking nets instantly q 
 spring into the air and catch the birds, either on the wing 
 or on the ground. They act so quickly that the eye can 
 searcely follow. Anything on the wing crossing the nets 
 within four feet from the ground will be shut in instantly. 
 It is better to catch the bird before he has time to settle. If 
 birds touch the net with their feet they are off instantly. 
 
 The next process in birdcatching is to put out the 
 ‘brace bird.’ A brace bird is taken from a cage; this bird 
 always wears his brace with a swivel attached, whether at 
 work or no. The brace consists of a piece of string made 
 into a kind of double halter. It is put over the bird’s 
 head, and the wings and legs are passed through; in fact, 
 when I saw Mr. Davy brace a bird I was strongly re- 
 minded of a nurse dressing a baby. When the brace is 
 - on the bird, the feathers fall over it and it cannot be seen. 
 The brace bird is then put on his ‘ flurr stick;’ this is a 
 

 
 LONDON BIRDCATCHERS. 213 
 
 straight stick, which by means of a hinge on its lower end 
 and a string is made to rise and fall at the will of the 
 birdeatcher. Then when any bird is seen coming the 
 flurr stick is gently pulled up, the brace bird all the 
 while standing on the stick is made to hover and to show 
 wing, 7.¢. flutter as though about to settle on the ground: 
 
 this, of course, is to attract the wild birds to the place. 
 Mr. Davy then proceeded to arrange his call-birds. These 
 birds when put out begin to sing, especially if they hear 
 another bird of the same kind in the distance. The wild 
 ones, being attracted by the decoys, are shown by the 
 brace birds the place where they are wanted to go. No 
 bait is used for the birds; they simply come to the decoy, 
 and imagine from the gall that they, the decoys,, are 
 feeding there. 
 
 The brace bird that Mr. Davy put on the flurr stick 
 had been at work for three years almost daily. He had 
 been the means of catching thousands of other birds, espe- 
 cially sparrows, ordinarily called ‘Jims.’ Mr. Davy says 
 the call-birds get very artful: sometimes they will give a 
 note of warning or fighting to the wild birds; thus a linnet 
 will set to hipping, that is calling ‘hip, hip, hip,’ several 
 times. This note of the eall-bird causes the linnets 
 coming in a flight instantly to dash away in all direc- 
 tions. 
 
 The goldfinch will oftentimes set to ‘ gidding,’ that 
 is, saying ‘gid, gid, gid, several times in succession. 
 This has the same effect as the ‘hipping’ of the linnet. 
 The birds are off in a moment. Mr. Davy’s call-bird 
 goldfinch was a very good one, and Mr. Davy put his 
 song into words. By listening attentively. I could make 
 
214 ) LONDON BIRDCATCHERS. 
 
 out that the goldfinch did really say the following words. 
 
 ‘ 
 
 There are two songs of the goldfinch ; one is— 
 Sippat-sippat-slam-slam-slam-siwiddy. 
 The other is— 
 Sippat-widdle-widdle-slam-siwiddy kurr-hurotle-chay. 
 
 Goldfinches are now becoming very scarce, because the 
 cultivation of land is exterminating the thistles. This 
 year, for the first time, the birdcatchers have gone for 
 them to Ireland, and have sent large takes of gold- 
 finches thence into the London market. During this 
 autumn goldfinches were more abundant; this may be 
 attributed to the provisions of the Bird Preservation Act. 
 At the end of the year the goldfinches lie up in quiet — 
 feeding-places, and remain there as long as the food lasts 5 
 they will not be seen on flight again until April. 
 
 The song of the linnet is thus written by Mr. Davy :— 
 
 Hepe, hepe, hepe, hepe 
 
 Tollaky, tollaky, quakey, wheet, 
 Heep, pipe, chow, 
 
 Heep, tollaky, quakey, wheet, 
 Lug, orcher, wheet. 
 
 This is the song of the wild linnet. 
 
 The toy linnet is a bird that has been taught to sing 
 by the titlark, woodlark, or yellowhammer; they are 
 educated at an immense amount of trouble. The linnet 
 is taught ‘ in-and-in,’ ‘in-and-in,’ ¢.e. by constant repeti- 
 tion; and only a very few take the perfect song. The 
 song begins thus :-— 
 
 Pu poy, tollick, tollick, eky quak, 
 E wheet, tollick, cha eyk, quake, wheet. 
 
 
 

 
 \ 
 
 LONDON BIRDCATCHERS. | 215 
 
 This is one stave of the song. Then follow in due 
 order the following staves :— 
 
 Phillip, cha eke, quake, wheet. 
 
 Call up, cha eke, quake, wheet. 
 
 Tollick, eke, quake, chow. 
 
 Eke, eke, eke, quak chow. 
 
 Cluck cluck, chay, ter wheet tollick, eke quake, wheet. 
 Echup, echup, pipe chow. 
 
 Ah, ah, ah! J-o-e. 
 
 Eke quake, chow rattle. 
 
 Tuck, tuck, wizzy ter wheet ; 
 
 Tolliky, quake wheet. 
 
 This is the finish of the toy linnet song. When the 
 above song is put together by a properly trained bird it 
 is just like a flute. 
 
 To get these birds to take the song they must be taken 
 from the nest very young, before they get the eall of the 
 parent birds. 
 
 Perfect toy linnets are worth almost any sum of money 
 —15l. to 201. would be given readily for a thoroughly good 
 one. Broken song-birds are only worth 30s. to 50s. each. 
 A broken song-bird will not make his stops in the song 
 as given above; he will run one stave into the other. 
 Good toy linnets are very scarce, and their trainers are 
 getting old and dying off. 
 
 Towards the middle and end of November the bird- 
 eatchers always expect what they designate the ‘ Novem- 
 ber flight of linnets.’ This great flight generally takes 
 place between the 15th and last day of November. The 
 men lay their nets before daybreak. As soon as it is light 
 
216 LONDON BIRDCATCHERS. 
 
 the birds appear. They come in flocks of from two to 
 three hundred; the call-birds ‘charge,’ and give the 
 catchers notice that the birds are coming before they can 
 be seen by the men. 
 
 Very large takes of these migratory linnets have been 
 
 made; as many as five dozen have been taken in some 
 
 years at one pull of the clap-net. Although so many 
 linnets are captured annually, there has been no general 
 diminution noticed in their numbers. The greater number 
 of these birds are bred on the wild gorse lands, especially 
 in Scotland. They are very prolific, and have three to four 
 nests each season, producing from fifteen to twenty young. 
 
 When this linnet migration from the north takes place, 
 ‘the birdcatchers are certain that some wild weather is 
 coming behind them. Observers will find this right. The 
 linnets when arriving at the south of England disperse 
 themselves over the stubbles, ‘ clover lays,’ and ‘ fed-offs ; ” 
 they eat large quantities of charlock and other wild seeds, 
 which otherwise would be injurious to the farmer. The 
 large takes of these birds in 1878 glutted the bird market. 
 Before the flight cock linnets were worth from four to five 
 shillings a dozen, they soon dropped in price to from 
 eighteenpence to two shillings. 
 
 Mr. Davy also had a bullfinch, and it was quite 
 wonderful how this bird would answer him at almost any 
 distance. The call consists of a low, plaintive, melancholy 
 whistle. If any wild bullfinch came within the call of this 
 clever bird he would never let him go away, but keep 
 continually working at him. This bullfinch is always 
 worked in an open-top cage, so that he can either be 
 used inside the nets or for birdliming purposes. 
 
 
 

 
 LONDON BIRDCATCHERS. 217 
 
 The best time for catching bullfinches is in the black- 
 berry time, viz. September and October. They also eat 
 privet berries and dock seed, but they never begin on the 
 privet berries until after the frost has touched them. 
 
 Birdliming is a more sporting mode of catching birds 
 than netting, and is thus practised. The bullfinch catcher 
 finds his game principally by his own call. He walks 
 along suitable lanes and margins of woods, continually 
 ealling with his mouth; this is called ‘whooping ;’ it is 
 the challenge or call-note of the bullfinch, and sounds very 
 much like ‘whoop, whoop, whoop.’ In some parts of the 
 country bullfinches are called ‘whoops.’ After a time the 
 man finds his game by a bird answering his call. He im- 
 mediately puts down acall bullfinch in a cage, and a twig 
 already limed near the cage. After atime the decoy ‘ gets 
 hold’ of the wild bird by his call; the man then ceases, 
 leaving the bird to finish his work. The wild bird, being 
 of a pugnacious disposition, challenges the caged bird, and 
 alighting on the stick he is done for immediately, being 
 held fast by the lime. It is not an uncommon thing for 
 a single-handed man to take two dozen bullfinches in a 
 day ; fresh-caught ‘ bullies’ realise to the catcher twelve 
 shillings a dozen for cocks and three shillings a dozen for 
 hens. 
 
 Cock bullfinches are in some parts of the country 
 ealled ‘soldiers,’ on account of their crimson breasts. 
 ‘ Bullies’ are taught to pipe by being taken very young 
 from the nest, and having one tune constantly hammered 
 into their heads either by a bird-organ or by whistling. 
 
 _ Numbers of birds, however, will not take to the song 
 in spite of great attention being paid to their education. 
 
218 LONDON BIRDCATCHERS, 
 
 The Germans are very clever in teaching bullfinches to — 
 pipe. A trainer would think himself very fortunate if 
 four out of twelve ‘ bullies’ became pipers: they are worth 
 three and sixpence each; a perfect piper is sabe from 
 three to four pounds. 
 
 The nets being spread and the birds put out, we 
 adjourned to the end of the ‘ pull-line,’ in hopes the birds 
 would come, and waited patiently. The silence in the 
 forest was very remarkable. Bully kept on answering 
 Mr. Davy when he chose to talk to him. Davy also talked 
 to the goldfinch and the linnet, and I think Mr. Davy ~ 
 sings the linnet’s song better than the linnet himself. He 
 assists himself in trapping linnets by the use of a small 
 whistle. We waited most: patiently in silence for the 
 birds to come and be caught. But, as Mr. Davy anti- 
 cipated, nothing came to be caught, not even Jims (spar- 
 rows). At last a poor little robin was fool enough to 
 come: in an instant the nets were over him to show us 
 how they acted. Poor little Bobby was taken out of the 
 nets and handled most carefully, and was marked on a 
 feather by the Squire so that he should know him again. 
 I had the curiosity to put the robin to my ear to listen to 
 his heart. . The rapidity with which his poor little heart 
 was going was amazing ; it was perfectly impossible to count 
 the pulsations, the sound was like a locomotive letting 
 off her steam. This was caused by the sudden surprise 
 of the moment. Birds cannot change their faces or show 
 any symptom of alarm, or the Bobby would probably have 
 looked white about the gills. 
 
 The question has arisen if a robin could be brought to 
 talk. Mr. Keilich, the naturalist, tells me that he knew 
 
 
 

 
 LONDON BIRDCATCHERS. 219 
 
 of a robin who said, ‘ Pretty Bob; pretty Bob. Come and 
 kiss Bobby.’ But Mr. Davy says he has never heard of a 
 robin talking. 
 
 The blackbird is a great mimic, or rather mocking- 
 bird. If taken young he will go through one or two 
 songs. Davy had one that would whistle ‘ Pop goes the 
 weasel,’ and ‘ Hey, jim along, jim along Josey; hey, jim 
 along, jim along Joe.’ He would sing at any time at 
 command. Mr. Searle, my secretary, says he heard a 
 blackbird in the Mile End Road sing the principal parts of 
 the Huntsman’s Chorus. 
 
 If any one wishes to try the experiment of training a 
 blackbird, he must raise one or two young ones from the 
 nest. As a rule, two out of three will take the song taught 
 them. The blackbird is very pugnacious, and this is a 
 drawback to his being kept in an aviary with other small 
 birds. 
 
 Wormwood Scrubs was once a celebrated place for 
 catching birds, especially starlings. Mr. Davy has caught 
 there from two to three dozen at one pullof the net. The 
 nets must be laid so as to begin catching at dawn. By 
 eleven o’clock starlings are ‘fed up’ and are off; they go 
 for shelter into the woods, to get out of the heat of the sun. 
 Five or six dummies—+7.e. stuffed starlings—are placed 
 near the nets to attract the wild birds, and also one live 
 bird on a ‘flurr stick’ The autumn is the best time to 
 catch starlings. They are very artful. It is necessary to 
 ‘take a cut’ at them—that is, pull the net sharp the 
 moment they get within reach of it. They will often 
 hover over the net, not making up their minds to go in. 
 This is the time to ‘cut them in.’ The birds about in 
 
220 LONDON BIRDCATCHERS. 
 
 August, being mostly young, are not ‘up to the game ’— 
 that is, the net work—but they will very soon learn it and 
 get artful. 
 
 Starlings are extensively used for trap-shooting. The 
 price varies from five shillings to six shillings per dozen. 
 Directly after the breeding season Mr. Davy would take a 
 twenty-dozen order at two days’ notice. 
 
 Sparrows are also much used for shooting purposes. 
 Large numbers of them leave London after harvest and go 
 upon the stubblesto feed; by September there are hardly 
 any sparrows in London. They return again during the 
 winter months when ploughing begins. After many 
 have been caught and their number thinned they be- 
 come artful, and the moment they see the net they 
 ery ‘Jim, jim, jim,’ and are off. An old Jim is as 
 cunning as an old man, from seeing his pals so often 
 caught in the net. Sparrows are a great pest at the 
 Zoological Gardens, entering into the houses, and es- 
 pecially the warm houses in the winter. They are not 
 at all shy, but enter into almost all the houses where 
 the animals and birds are fed, helping themselves to the 
 most delicate morsels and luxuries. In the winter the 
 sparrows are caught by bat-folding. Bat-folding is 
 eommonly used in the country for catching all kinds of 
 birds. , 
 
 Mr. Davy in his time has supphed large numbers of 
 gentlemen with pigeons (blue rocks) for trap-shooting. 
 These pigeons are bred in many parts of the country by 
 thousands in dove-cots, and bought up by the dealers. 
 Any kind of sharp-flying pigeon is also used when the 
 price of blue rocks is objected to. Blue rocks vary from 
 
 
 

 
 LONDON BIRDCATCHERS. 221 
 
 16s. to 24s. per dozen, common kinds from 12s. to 15s. 
 Davy has supplied twenty-two dozen or 264 birds a day. 
 After they are shot and brought home the birds will 
 always fetch 6s. per dozen. If in good condition there is 
 always a ready sale. 
 
 Pigeons are very pugnacious. If two cock pigeons are 
 put in a cage together, they will fasten on to each other 
 by the beak, and cut away with the wings until one is 
 completely mastered. 
 
 Scotch larks are abundant in England; they locate 
 themselves on the clover and grass lands, where they 
 are taken by thousands on dull nights with trammel 
 nets. At the beginning of the winter they are sold dead 
 indiscriminately, both cocks and hens, just as they are 
 caught. By the end of January the catchers can find 
 ready purchasers for the live cock birds. The price of cock 
 larks then rises monthly up to the end of April. In 
 January they fetch four shillings a dozen, in April there is 
 a ready market at twelve shillings a dozen. 
 
 Wood-pigeons are very numerous in the early winter, 
 and large numbers are then sent to the London market. 
 They are then in the very finest condition, and are regular 
 ‘lumps of meat.’ They are very good for table when 
 stuffed with sage and onions and roasted like ducks. 
 When the severe weather sets in, the damage that is done 
 to the farmers by wood-pigeons is great; they destroy large 
 quantities of swedes and turnips, spoiling more than they 
 eat. These birds peck out the heart of the green part in 
 the centre of the turnip ; in doing this they make a deep 
 hole, the water then gets in, and the turnips are destroyed 
 by the first frost. In years when there are no beech-nuts, 
 
222 LONDON BIRDCATCHERS. 
 
 the wood-pigeons make more inroads than ever among the 
 turnips. Wood-pigeons also do much damage to the vetches 
 grown for early lamb-feeding. 
 
 The siskins, chaffinches, bramble-finches, and haw- 
 finches that come in the Michaelmas flight, and locate 
 themselves where food is abundant, disappear before winter, 
 and the birdeatchers cannot find their whereabouts. In 
 all probability they will not show up again on flight until 
 the middle or end of February. Fieldfares, redwings, and 
 missel thrushes then arrive in large quantities, and are 
 to be found about the environs of London so long as they 
 ean get food ; they are very wary birds, but the moment 
 frost and snow set in they are easily approached. The 
 redwing of all the thrushes is the most duck-hearted ; he 
 will soon succumb to the cold, even when the berry food is 
 abundant ; he cannot exist long without ‘ground food,’ 
 that is, worms and insects. 
 
 As it was very hot we sat down in the shade to rest, 
 while Mr. Davy gave us a yarn about his birds. It was 
 unusual for a thrush to be in song so late, viz., August 17, 
 as at this time these birds are in full moult. August, in 
 fact, is the dullest month in the year for song. Nearly 
 all the birds, being ‘sore in moult,’ hide away in damp, 
 shady places. Mr. Davy has put the song of most birds 
 into words. He repeated the words of a thrush’s song, 
 and I found by carefully listening that the bird does 
 actually sing the following words :— 
 
 Knee deep, knee deep, knee deep, 
 
 Cherry du, cherry du, cherry du, cherry du ; 
 White hat, white hat. 
 
 Pretty Joey, pretty Joey, pretty Joey. 
 
 
 

 
 LONDON BIRDCATCHERS. 223 
 
 My readers should learn these words by heart, and 
 listen to a thrush singing. They will find the thrush pro- 
 nounces the above words as nearly as possible. Repeat 
 them all, even when no bird is present, rapidly in a bird- 
 like manner, and see the effect. 
 
 It is very difficult to word a blackbird’s song. Mr. 
 Davy can imitate a blackbird’s song so well that he can 
 bring Mr. Blackbird up to him to be caught, but he can- 
 not put his song into words. 
 
 Having got on to the language of birds, Mr. Davy gave 
 us some more examples. I give his reading of the song 
 of the nightingale. The song is commenced in ‘ wheet- 
 ing and kurring,’ which may thus be written :— 
 
 Wheet, wheet, kurr, k-u-u-r-r-r. 
 The song after that continues,— 
 
 Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, 
 Jug, jug, jug, jug, jug, 
 Swot, swot, swot, swotty. 
 
 They keep on thesenotes a long time, finishing up with 
 ‘swotting and kurring.’ The song must be pronounced 
 with great inflexions—crescendo-diminuendo, I think the 
 lady pianists call it ; especially modify the ‘ sweet, sweet,’ 
 and pronounce it in a plaintive manner. The ‘jug, jug, 
 
 jug’ is quick, like a dog barking.’ 
 
 1 The following note has been kindly sent me :—‘ The “ wild bird,” 
 whose liquid warble our Poet Laureate, in his “In Memoriam,” recog- 
 nises as characteristic of both joy and grief, had some two hundred 
 years ago his much-loved song reduced to words and letters by a 
 well-known and very learned Jesuit, Marco Bettini. This production 
 was at that time deemed a most successful one, but about a hundred 
 years ago a German naturalist named Bechstein made what many call 
 
O24. ie LONDON BIRDCATCHERS. : F 
 
 I hear the peasants in Brittany translate the night- 
 ingale’s song thus :— 
 Le bon Dieu m’a donné une femme, 
 Que j’ai tant, tant, tant tant battue 
 Que s'il m’en. donne une autre ; 
 Je ne la batterais 
 Plus, plus, plus — 
 Q’un petit, q’un petit, q’un petit. 
 
 The wagtails have different calls. The call of the 
 black-and-white wagtail is ‘ Physic, physic, physic,’ quickly 
 repeated, and with a whistle Davy can make them come 
 close up. Listen to the first wagtail you hear, and you 
 will find he invokes the aid of the medical profession. 
 
 As there were no small seed-eating birds in the park, 
 Mr. Davy then gave us a lecture on birdlime. He first 
 of all gave us the process of makingit. There are two 
 ways of making birdlime The first is to get a quart of 
 linseed oil and boil it down to a little over half a pint. 
 The process of making it is dangerous. The oil gets so 
 
 an improvement on Bettini’s “Song of the Nightingale,” and I forward 
 you a copy of it :— 
 Tiouou, tiouou, tiouou, tiouou 
 Shpe tiou tokoua ; 
 Tio, tio, tio, tio 
 Kououtio, kououtiou, kioutiou, koutioutio ; 
 Tokuo tskouo, tskouo, tskono 
 Tsu, tsti, tsti, tst, tsu, tsti, tsti, tsti, tsi, tsti, tsti 
 Kouorror, tiou, tksoua, pipetk souis 
 Tso, tso, tso, tso, tso, tso, tso, tso, tso, tso, tso, tso, tso, 
 Tsirrbading, 
 Tsi, tsi, si, tosi, si, si, si, si, si, si, si, si, 
 Tsorre, tsorre, tsorre, tsorreki, 
 Tsatu, tsatu, tsatu, tsatu, tsatu, tsatu, tsatu, tsatu, tsi 
 Blo, blo, blo, dlo, dlo, dlo, dlo, dlo, 
 Kouiou, trrrrrrrrretgt, 
 Su, su, su, ly, ly, ly, li, i, li, li’ 
 
 
 

 
 LONDON BIRDCATCHERS. | 225 
 
 - 
 
 very hot that a pipkin is obliged to be used. When boiled 
 down the oil must be poured into cold water, and is then 
 very apt to fly up in the face and scald baldly; the stench 
 of it is almost unbearable. 
 
 The birds principally caught with birdlime are gold- 
 finches, bullfinches, woodlarks, and chaffinches. 
 
 Mr. Davy told us he would make the other kind of 
 birdlime in our presence, if the Squire would allow him to 
 eut off a bit of holly bark from a tree. Davy chose a 
 thick old tree; he cut a piece about four inches square 
 from the outer bark, and divided it into three. He gave 
 the Squire one piece, myself one piece, keeping a piece him- 
 self, and told us to put itin our mouths and chewit. The 
 taste of the bark was of an agreeable bitter-—-the bitter 
 cup of the chemist’s shop. In about five minutes the 
 holly bark, being thoroughly crushed between the teeth, 
 began to be very tenacious, and in about ten minutes the 
 birdlime was produced. It is wonderfully sticky stuff, and 
 it is difficult to rub off the hands, and much more so off 
 the moustache ; in fact, at the end of the operation it was 
 difficult to talk. This, then, is a new discovery for the 
 Pharmacopeeia. It will be a capital thing for a lady or 
 gentleman who talks too much, if you can only once persuade 
 him or her that holly bark is a tonic which would do 
 them good. In about five minutes it would shut up 
 their chatter. 
 
 It is not an uncommon thing in London for clever 
 thieves to place a small portion of birdlime on a walking- 
 stick; the confederate then takes away the barmaid’s 
 attention, and the man with the stick takes the coin from 
 the bar. Another trick is to place a small portion of 
 
 Q 
 
226 LONDON BIRDCATCHERS. 
 
 birdlime on a silver coin and give it to the barmaid, and 
 it is amusing to see how she tries to throw it into the till; 
 or, in fact, get rid of it out of her hands at all. 
 
 The birdlime we made from the Squire’s holly bark 
 turned out very good when it was quite finished. Davy 
 trinmphantly showed it to the Squire, and assured us it 
 would ‘ hold a duck or a parrot; he would not get away 
 unless his feathers came out.’ ! 
 
 Mr. Davy had got to this point of his lecture when the 
 
 gong at the mansion sounded for luncheon, and of course 
 we went back at once. At luncheon I was obliged to give 
 an account of our morning’s proceedings, and we all began 
 to ‘talk bird.’ Sir A. Layard informed me that the 
 swallows leave Venice about St. James’s Day, July 25, and 
 the day after they leave the mosquitoes begin. He also 
 told me that in this year all about Verona the locusts came 
 in millions, devouring everything before them, and they 
 were followed up by vast flocks of the roller (Coracias 
 garrula), which devoured them in numbers. He also 
 said that when making his discoveries at and about 
 Nineveh the natives used to catch quail in a wonderfully 
 clever manner by throwing a casting-net over them. 
 
 He regretted we had not yet introduced the gigantic 
 partridge, the ourkakich, the royal partridge of the Per- 
 
 1 The following is a recipe for making birdlime. Peel off the bark 
 
 of the holly ia July, and remove the outer rind, the brown epidermis ; 
 put the bark into boiling water in an earthen vessel, and let it remain 
 
 about a fortnight in a damp place. Then take it out and bruise it well - 
 
 until it becomes a paste. This wash in cold water, to separate all ex- 
 traneous matters, and leave it for four days, when a sort of scum will 
 appear on the surface. Take off the scum, and the birdlime is fit for 
 use, and will hold a duck as firmly as the famed Polytechnic cement 
 does china. 
 
 
 
 a ee ee es ee eee ee a 
 

 
 
 
 LONDON BIRDCATCHERS. 227 
 
 slans, or Caspian snow partridge. I also learned a new 
 plan they had in Madrid to turn birds into politi- 
 cians ; they dye pigeons various colours, and let them fly 
 when any fun is to be made or politicians are to be 
 annoyed. Doves are also dyed and turned loose when 
 any particular pruma donna sings at the theatre; the 
 doves being dyed with her favourite colours. 
 
 As the name Davy came into conversation, some one 
 asked what was the meaning of the sailor’s phrase, ‘ Davy 
 Jones’s locker.’ A gentleman present, who had been in 
 India, immediately told us, to our great delight, that 
 ‘Deva Loka’ is the ‘Goddess of Death’ in Hindustani. 
 _ Some English Forecastle Jack must thave heard this ex- 
 pression, and put in the word ‘Jones’ to make it sound 
 right. 
 
 The best time for seeing the nets in full operation is 
 at daybreak on commons, waste lands, or seed-growers’ 
 grounds. After ten o’clock in the morning the catching 
 ceases to a great extent, for the birds having fed ‘lay 
 up. Towards evening the birds again work the feeding- 
 places, but the birdcatchers have generally then left the 
 ground. 
 
 The captured birds are carefully taken out of the net 
 and immediately placed in cages called ‘store cages.’ The 
 doors of the cages are at the top, and made with the leg of 
 a stocking fastened on: a usual wooden door would not 
 answer, as the birds might slip out when fresh additions 
 were made. © All kinds of British birds, from a wren up to 
 a rook, can be taken in the pull net. 
 
 During ordinary weather the nets are worked by decoy 
 and ‘flurr birds’ on the open lands. During the hot 
 
 Q 2 
 
. ye 
 
 228 LONDON BIRDCATCHERS. 
 
 weather the nets are worked on the margins of brooks, 
 lakes, or ponds. ; 
 
 Birds will go for miles to a clear-running, gravelly- 
 bottomed stream. An experienced catcher on passing a 
 suitable place can tell it immediately ; the signs are that 
 the shallow water on the edge of the pool is muddy, and 
 
 the tracks of the birds are visible in the mud. Birds fre- 
 
 quent the water for drinking, washing, and moulting 
 purposes about midday during the hot weather. 
 
 By this mode of netting, which is called ‘the water- 
 trap, many British birds which will take no notice of 
 call-birds are captured. Among these are taken the 
 black and white flycatcher, woodpecker, jays and magpies, 
 doves, wood-pigeons, blackcaps, butcher-birds, lesser and 
 larger pettichaps, thrushes, blackbirds, and all the titmouse 
 tribe. 
 
 oa 
 

 
 229 
 
 SIR WALTER SCOTT'S HOME AT ABBOTSFORD. 
 
 I MAKE it a rule invariably to buy the local guide-book 
 of every place I have to visit. When at Melrose, in 
 September 1879, on an official inquiry into the salmon 
 disease in the Tweed, I found to my delight in the guide- 
 book that Abbotsford, Sir Walter Scott’s residence, was not 
 very far off; so | made up my mind to go and visit it, as 
 there was just time so to do before our court began the 
 next day. I was so interested in what I saw, that I now 
 venture to describe the appearance of the home of this 
 illustrious Scotch baronet. 
 
 An old college scout at Christ Church, Oxford, one 
 ‘Cicero Cook,’ held an aphorism that a man’s character 
 could be told by the books and surroundings in his study. 
 At Sir Walter Scott’s house, therefore, I expected to find 
 a reflex of the thoughts of the great novelist. 
 
 The house itself stands at the bottom of a steep de- 
 clivity which leads from the main road. It is built close 
 to the Tweed, and the Gala water falls into it just below. 
 The general appearance of the house is that of an old castle, 
 but built with modern stone, after a design suggested by 
 the antiquarian mind of Sir Walter Scott, who evidently 
 treasured up many things which otherwise would have 
 perished. For instance, the old Tolbooth, of Edinburgh, 
 
230 SIR WALTER SCOTT'S HOME AT ABBOTSFORD. 
 
 having been demolished in 1817, the stones of the portal 
 were given to Sir Walter Scott, and rebuilt into a doorway, 
 which bears the following inscription :— 
 
 The Lord of Armies ts mp protector, 
 Hlessit av thay that trust in the Lor0.—_AADBLEFV. 
 
 I had to wait a few minutes in the ante-hall before 
 the guide came to conduct us over the house. 
 
 In this little room were several very curious prints, 
 especially a picture of a sea-fight, the ‘ Wolverine,’ Captain 
 Montague, taking some French luggers ; a desperate fight 
 between the Russian and Cossack cavalry, 1800; and a 
 procession in Edinburgh; also a trunk made of tiger- 
 skin, probably a present to Sir Walter years ago. 
 
 The first room we were ushered into was Sir Walter 
 Scott’s study, the furniture of which is left exactly as when 
 Sir Walter died. 
 
 The table on which he wrote is an old-fashioned affair, 
 but has many drawers and many wings, just the table to 
 suit a man who had a great many papers to deal with. 
 The arm-chair is covered with leather, the sort of chair 
 into which a busy man would delight to throw himself 
 back and think. Near the fireplace is a piece of furni- 
 ture made from portions of the Spanish Armada, with 
 this motto: ‘ Afflavit Deus et disipantur.’ The tables in 
 the dining-hall at Westminster School are made from 
 portions of the wreck of the same Armada. Allround the 
 room there are numerous shelves with books, and halfway 
 up the room a gallery with more books, very like what we 
 have at the Atheneum Club. It may be possible that 
 Sir Walter took the hint from the Athenzum, which was 
 
 
 

 
 SIR WALTER SCOTT'S HOME AT ABBOTSFORD. 23] 
 
 founded in 1824, and of which Sir Walter was one of the 
 first members. Behind the chair is a cupboard devoted 
 to Sir Walter’s pipes and sticks, and I was delighted to 
 find out that Sir Walter Scott smoked. 
 
 Among the books I noticed bound copies of the French 
 newspaper, the ‘Moniteur.’ I could not think why Sir 
 Walter had such a collection of the ‘ Moniteur’ until 
 Mr. Walpole, who was with me, told me he thought Sir 
 Walter Scott had bound them because they would cons 
 tain Napoleon’s bulletins, and were the official repository 
 of French despatches in those days. In return for his 
 kindness I told Mr. Walpole that I should be only too 
 pleased if I could find any book in the library relating to 
 his family, so I looked about sharp, and within five 
 minutes I caught sight of two—namely, ‘ Orford’s Works ’ 
 and ‘ Memoir of Horace Walpole.’ 
 
 The next room to the study, the drawing-room, is a 
 wonderful place. At one end of it stands an admirable 
 bust of Sir Walter by my godfather, Sir Francis Chantrey. 
 
 In a bay-window is a table containing many interesting 
 relics, as follows :— Portrait of James Stuart, born June 10, 
 1688, died at Rome, 1766. The purse of Rob Roy, also 
 the Skein Dhu (English, black knife or dagger) belong- 
 ing to Rob Roy. The tumbler used by Burns. Tam 
 O’ Shanter’s snuff-box. Napoleon’s portfolio, ornamented 
 with golden bees; this, if I mistake not, was presented 
 to Sir Walter by the Duke of Wellington, probably at the 
 time when he was writing ‘The Life of Napoleon;’ the 
 Duke’s autograph accompanies Napoleon’s portfolio. <A 
 lock of Lord Nelson’s hair. A lock of the Duke of 
 Wellington’s hair. 
 
232 SIR WALTER SCOTT'S HOME AT ABBOTSFORD. 
 
 In this room there are some ebony chairs; these were 
 presented by King George IV.; also some other very 
 handsome old furniture. 
 
 In the next room, the dining-room, is a picture of 
 Sir Walter Scott, taken about 1815 by Raeburn, a famous 
 portrait painter. Standing by Sir Walter are represented 
 two hounds, one Maida, the Luffra of the ‘ Lady of the 
 Lake,’ and another hound called Menus. 
 
 A portrait of an old lady struck me as wonderful, and 
 I admired it still more when I was told it was Sir Walter 
 Scott’s mother. There is also a fine portrait of King 
 James I., and a marvellous bit of work, namely, Camrood’s 
 painting of the head of Mary Queen of Scots, the day 
 after this unfortunate lady was beheaded. I was trans- 
 fixed by this picture, as the features of life seemed to 
 have been suddenly frozen by death into the cold pale 
 face ; particularly well did I observe that the lips were - 
 pursed up—probably the facial expression of the very last 
 moment of this unfortunate lady. I understand that 
 there is a painting of the head of Mary Queen of Scots in 
 the museum at the old Castle of Heidelberg; this is 
 doubtless a copy of Camrood’s masterpiece. The whole of 
 this room is papered with some wonderful and very hand- 
 some Chinese paper, said to be all hand-painted. 
 
 The walls of the passage leading out of this room are 
 hung with the most interesting relics. A pair of pistols 
 found in Napoleon’s carriage after Waterloo, very hand- 
 some, handy weapons, engraved ‘ Versailles.’ King James 
 VI.’s hunting flask. The spurs of Prince Uharlie. Rob 
 Roy’s gun, with the initials ‘R.M.C.’ The iron mask 
 worn by Wishart, the martyr at the stake, to prevent his 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 SIR WALTER SCOTTS HOME AT ABBOTSFORD. 233 
 
 addressing the people. The money-box of King James IV. 
 Bruce’s candlesticks, with a most admirable arrangement 
 for keeping up the candle always to burning point; and 
 the magnificent tusk of an elephant. 
 
 But what much pleased me was a pen-and-ink drawing 
 of Queen Elizabeth dancing. It must be a good likeness 
 of the Queen because it is so like the monument in West- 
 minster Abbey, the bust of which, in my deanery days at 
 Westminster, it was my special province to keep clean. 
 The Queen is represented as dancing by herself, apparently 
 unconscious that a lot of gentlemen are quizzing her. 
 The faces of these worthies can just be seen grinning 
 through the curtains. If Queen Elizabeth was not pretty, 
 the want of facial beauty was, as is very frequently the 
 case, compensated by an exceedingly pretty foot and 
 ankle. Her Majesty wore clocked stockings, and a lovely 
 little pair of shoes, which, according to the present mode 
 of measuring ladies’ chaussures, would be the size called 
 ‘small twos.’ 
 
 This sketch of Queen Elizabeth dancing was, I after- 
 wards learned, made by Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, a 
 ereat ally of Sir Walter in his antiquarian pursuits, and a 
 poet and artist, to commemorate a well-known incident. 
 The Queen, in order to let her expectant successor, James 
 VI., know that he would have to wait a little longer, set 
 herself to ‘ dance high and disposedly,’ giving Cecil a hint 
 that he might let the Scotch Ambassador, Sir Robert 
 Melville, be an unseen witness of the performance. 
 
 In Lockhart’s Life of Scott, a letter from Sir Walter 
 to Mr. Sharpe, at Christ Church, Oxford, is given, dated 
 Edinburgh, December 30, 1808, which commences as 
 
234 SIR WALTER SCOTT’S HOME AT ABBOTSFORD. 
 
 follows :—* My dear Sharpe,—The inimitable virago came 
 safe, and was welcomed by the inextinguishable laughter 
 of all who looked upon her caprices.’ Scott used to ex- 
 patiate with delight on this drawing o tall who visited 
 him at Abbotsford. | 
 The doors of the hall were then suddenly thrown open, 
 and a most interesting place it is. All along the walls 
 are hung cuirasses, helmets, and swords of, I should say, 
 almost every age and period. Above the armour are coats- 
 of-arms, and a double line of escutcheons displays the 
 heraldic bearings of the Scotts, Kerrs, Elliots, Douglas, 
 and other border clans, these reminding us of the flags 
 of the Knights of the Order of the Bath hung up in 
 Henry VII.’s Chapel, Westminster. 
 The following inscription runs round the walls of the 
 
 hall :— 
 
 Whese he the coats armories of the clanns, 
 
 Anw chief men of name, 
 
 CUhs Kepit the marches of Scotland 
 
 En the aul time for the king. 
 
 Crewe men war they in their time, and tu thetr Defence 
 Gav them Vefenvdpt. 
 
 At the west end of the room are a helmet and cuirass 
 of the French Life Guards; also the finest head I ever 
 saw of the fossil red deer, forming a capital pair with a 
 magnificent skull of. the extinct British ox (Bos urus). 
 There were many other objects to which I should like to 
 have given my attention, but my time was limited, as I 
 had to return to Melrose. 
 
 I afterwards visited Sir Walter Scott’s tomb at Dry- 
 burgh Abbey. It is a plain granite tomb in the ruins 
 
 
 

 
 SIR WALTER SCOTT’S HOME AT ABBOTSFORD. 238 
 
 of what once had been a chapel. It bears a simple 
 inscription indicating that Sir Walter was buried there 
 on September 26, 1832. This, therefore, is the last 
 resting-place of the greatest literary man since Shake- 
 speare’s time—historian, antiquarian, poet, novelist, and 
 above all, a really true and good man, an ornament to 
 the country of his birth, Scotland. 
 
236 
 
 SALE OF MANDERS’ MENAGERIE AT THE 
 AGRICULTURAL HALL, ISLINGTON. 
 
 In August 1875 I attended the sale of Manders’ Me- 
 nagerie at Islington. 
 
 To those fond of practical natural history and living 
 animals a sale like this is a very great treat. Here 
 we meet all our animal-dealing friends—a new profession 
 which has sprung up in our own time. These gentlemen 
 collect at vast expense the inhabitants of the desert and 
 forests, and exhibit them to the public: thus we all get 
 acquainted with the wondrous forms of life which exist in 
 climates where we ourselves never have been, and probably 
 shall never go. 
 
 The following is a list of the chief animals sold. I have 
 affixed the prices they fetched :— 
 
 Two splendid Lion Cubs, eighteen months old, born at the 
 Agricultural Hall, 150. 
 
 A splendid Lioness in Cub, expected to cub by the time of 
 sale, if not previously, 1500. 
 
 A spotted Hyena (female), 54. 
 
 A very fine breeding Lioness, about five years old, 304. 
 
 A Leopardess, 300. 
 
 A fine young male Panther, 121. 
 
 A handsome South American Jaguar (female), 304. 
 
 A ditto, 321. 
 
 
 
SALE OF MANDERS’ MENAGERIE. BaF 
 
 Two Tasmanian Devils, male and female, 6/. 
 A very fine Wombat, 5/. 10s. 
 An American Racoon. Five small Monkeys and a Cat, 3/. 
 An American Racoon, 8s. 
 Mongoose, in cage—finest specimen in England, 12. 2s. 
 A remarkably fine variegated Mandrill or red and blue 
 Baboon from Abyssinia, the only specimen in England, 105/. 
 A black Canadian Bear (male), 17. 6s. 
 A fine Russian or Grizzly Bear (male), J. 
 A very handsome Zebra, the largest in England, 301. 
 A fine South African Gnu or Horned Horse—very rare 
 (male), 517. 
 An American Wolf. 
 A very fine spotted Hyena (male). 
 A silver-haired Jackal (male), from India. 
 A young black Donkey (female), 
 The right of using the title of ‘Manders’ Royal Star 
 Menagerie.’ 
 A brown golden-colour Java Hare (male), 2/. 
 A black Opossum, great rarity, 11s. 
 Three handsome white- and red-nosed Cockatoos, 12. 10s. 
 A handsome Macaw, yellow and blue, 41. 4s. 
 A ditto, red and blue, 4/. 
 A valuable orange-coloured crested talking Cockatoo, 7/. 
 Three white- and red-nosed Cockatoos. 
 A very fine Pelican, 4/. 5s. 
 A very fine Camel, 7/. 10s. 
 A ditto, 71. 
 A ditto, 201. 
 A ditto, 20J. 
 A Camel Calf, about four months old, 217. 
 A handsome female Llama, 16/. 10s. 
 -Two Milch Goats, 31. 
 A Sheep, 1J. 5s. 
 
 
 
 I bid for the Russian bear. He had the moth in his 
 
238 SALE OF MANDERS’ MENAGERIE, 
 
 . coat, and had not good teeth. I had intended to make 
 him into a skeleton, but then I should have had to kill 
 him, and I can’t bear to pain, much less kill, anything, — 
 and if I had not killed the bear he might have killed 
 me, so I ‘let him slide.’ 
 
 Bob, the bear’s good-hearted keeper, nearly shed tears 
 over the low price of this big bear. ‘ What, Johnny,’ he 
 said, ‘don’t you know your own Bob?’ The bear made a — 
 grateful ‘ Ahr! ahr!’ as muchas to say, ‘ Bob, hang it all, 
 I’m worth more than a pound even for bear’s grease.’ ‘ Bless 
 your heart, Mr. Buckland,’ said Bob, ‘ Johnny and I have 
 had many a dance together round his cage, and he has 
 nursed me in his lap oftener than my mother, ain’t you, 
 Johnny, my lad?’ Poor Johnny! I wish somebody would 
 buy this poor old bear. I thought to myself, let us sub- 
 scribe and present him to good, kind-hearted Bob, who has 
 known him so many years. 
 
 The big mandrill, Jerry, was a rare fine monkey ; his 
 nose was the colour of the blue the washerwomen use ; he 
 had a most diabolical low forehead, like the demon’s in 
 Fuseli’s pictures, and awful teeth. He would be worse than 
 a tiger to meet in single combat. How they ever got him 
 out of his cage, where he had lived so long, I can’t imagine. 
 Bob said he was fourteen years old. 
 
 The director of the Bristol Zoological was very sweet 
 on the lioness. His lion at Bristol was a widower, and 
 was looking out for a second wife. A great many lions 
 have been bred at Bristol, and the cubs are always healthy, 
 and their coats, parents and children, ‘ like the satin of a 
 well-groomed racehorse.’ At Bristol they have hit upon 
 the right mode of feeding lions. Instead of everlasting 
 
 
 

 
 1) 
 SALE OF MANDERS’ MENAGERIE. 239 
 
 horseflesh, these Bristol lions often get a treat of a goat 
 just killed. This is their natural food; they eat them up, 
 hair, bones, and all, and thrive. 
 
 The auctioneer tried to make the buyers think that if 
 they bought the lioness in cub, they would have the chance 
 of her kittens. ‘No,’ said Bob, ‘them as buys her won’t 
 get no kittens; she'll eat the lot; she’s the wust mother 
 out.’ IJ thought of buying the wolf and jackal, and turn- 
 ing them down in a certain foxhunting county I know, for — 
 the hounds to have a bit of a change in their sport. I told 
 Bob about this; he answered, ‘Run, sir! that wolf will 
 never run; and he will eat his own weight of sheep in a 
 night ;’ so I did not buy him. 
 
 I had not, however, seen the last of Mr. Wolf. When 
 out on a salmon fishery inspection at Taunton, I went with 
 Mr. Bartlett to see a wild beast show then in the town. One 
 of the most attractive of the performances was the ‘ Dwarf 
 and the Wild Beasts.’ There was a big cage containing 
 three or four largish bears and a wolf. The dwarf, a very 
 funny little fellow, with a hoop in one hand and a stick in 
 the other, walked boldly into the cage, and placing the 
 hoop before each bear in turn, hit him a smack and made 
 him jump through the hoop. The wolf followed the dwarf 
 wherever he went, showing his white teeth and with a per- 
 petual snarl on his face; Bartlett and myself did not like 
 it: the wolf evidently meant mischief to the little man. 
 When Mr. Dwarf came out of the cage, we asked him how 
 he got on with the wolf. ‘Well, sir,’ he said, ‘I’m a bit 
 afeard on him, he follows me about so close like, and he 
 has nipped me twice.’ By this time I expect the poor 
 little dwarf has been set upon by the wolf, and finished off 
 
¢ 
 240 SALE OF MANDERS’ MENAGERIE. | 
 
 by the bears. When we suggested this possibility to 
 the owner of the wild beast show, he simply replied, 
 ‘Shouldn’t wonder at all, sir, if it did happen; but 
 look here, sir, what a fine advertisement it would make !’ 
 
 Poor Mrs. Manders told me that Topsy, the young black 
 donkey, was the offspring of a mule. I should have liked 
 to cast her head, but Miss Topsy was too free with her pretty 
 heels to make me love her. I expect she is in a coster- 
 monger’s cart by this time. 
 
 The first camel, a magnificent beast, hung fire a long 
 time. The first bid was two shillings; then I bid three 
 shillings for fun, and the third bid was four and sixpence. 
 I myself then bid a sovereign, and was very nearly get- 
 ting him—to my horror, as I thought what ever would Mrs. 
 B. say if I brought a gigantic live camel back to Albany 
 Street! He was a splendid animal. He ultimately brought 
 
 7l. 10s. Bob told me that the beast was dangerous, and 
 
 would bite tremendously if he had a chance; he had 
 ‘nipped’ several of his keepers in Bob’s time. 
 
 The auctioneer did not warrant the camel’s temper, 
 which was naturally bad, as most of those present knew 
 quite well. Ido not know who was ultimately the pur- 
 chaser. It was somebody, however, who did not know how 
 to manage him, for a few days afterwards Mr. Camel turned 
 rusty, and this is the account of his exploits from the 
 ‘Ipswich Journal : ’— 
 
 ‘Panic AT A MENAGERIE AT FRAMLINGHAM.—A collec- 
 tion of wild animals was exhibited here on Thursday even- 
 ing last. Feeding-time had arrived, and a considerable 
 number of the visitors stayed. Operations had just com- 
 menced, when an accident caused the greatest terror and 
 
 
 
 Se et 5 
 
 ‘ 
 a a ee a ee Te 
 
 — Ts , 2 
 

 
 i 
 SALE OF MANDERS’ MENAGERIE. 241 
 
 confusion to those outside as well as those inside the 
 menagerie. A camel, a vicious animal, which had been 
 bought at the late sale of animals in London, and had 
 arrived by train, was standing between two. caravans, 
 when suddenly the camel seized the man in charge by 
 the wrist, threw him down, and bit him severely. His 
 cries for help, and the falling down of a board during 
 the endeavour to extricate him, filled the spectators with 
 terror, as it was thought one of the lions had escaped 
 from its cage. Women and children screamed, and the 
 confusion was great. Luckily none of them were hurt.’ 
 
 I began to wish then that I had bought this dangerous 
 camel, for I should have much liked to dissect him, and 
 to have made a preparation of his wonderful stomach, 
 in which he is said to be able to carry supplies of water 
 all stowed away in little bags ready for use when water 
 fails during his travels across the desert. The great 
 John Hunter had his doubts about this story, and it 
 would have been a great chance for me to have further 
 investigated this point. 
 
 I should have had no difficulty in disposing of his body ; 
 his skin would have made a carpet, and my cat’s-meat man 
 would have bought the flesh and sold it in pennyworths to 
 the London cats on his beat. 
 
PLAYGROUND FOR THE LIONS AND TIGERS AT’ 
 THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS. 
 
 IT is very pleasing to see what great interest the public 
 now take in living animals. So strong is this feeling, 
 and so great is the knowledge spread abroad about 
 the habits and structure of animals, that artists have to 
 look smartly to their laurels, for if the artist delineates 
 an animal wrongly, he is pretty sure to be found out 
 either by myself or some other naturalist, and justly 
 criticised for his want of proper observation. 
 
 Of all created animals, none are so graceful as the 
 large Carnivora. No animals, at the same time, are less 
 patient of captivity; and doubtless these big active cats, 
 that are not born in a den, feel their want of the once- 
 tasted liberty very much. From the days of Mr. Brod- 
 erip, F.R.S., who, so far back as 1847, wrote that charming 
 book, ‘ Zoological Recreations,’ a desire has been felt 
 that a building should be made large enough to allow 
 these beautiful animals to be observed under conditions 
 when they would have free use of their admirably con- 
 structed limbs, and I can recollect the idea being dis- 
 cussed by my father and Mr. Broderip. 
 
 After much deliberation and planning, the new rion 
 house at the Zoological Gardens was builtin 1878. Space. 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 PLAYGROUND FOR THE LIONS AND TIGERS. 243 
 7 \ 
 
 was judiciously left for the erection of large outdoor play- 
 grounds. These playgrounds are large dome-shaped, 
 palatial cages. In the centre of each are artistically 
 arranged groups of tree trunks and rockwork, upon which 
 the animals may disport themselves at will. There are 
 sixteen dens in the lion house, and four playgrounds at 
 the back, so that every set of animals shall have their 
 proper turn in the playground. 
 
 The transfer of the large, powerful wild beasts from 
 their old dwelling to the new house was a task requiring 
 very great care and organisation, and a thorough know- 
 ledge of the habits of the animals. It must be recollected 
 that these large Carnivora cannot be taken up by the ears 
 and handled like tame rabbits. They are, moreover, very 
 suspicious, and terribly frightened if there is anything 
 about in the least like a trap. 
 
 In former times the usual method of making animals 
 move from one den to another was to set fire to some 
 straw and thus start them, or else to throw a rope round 
 their necks, and when half strangled drag them into the 
 den. Mr. Bartlett wisely preferred to employ persuasion 
 rather than force. A large box, called a ‘shifting den.’ 
 six feet eight inches long, twenty-four inches wide. and 
 about six feet high, was placed opposite the door of the 
 cage. It was, of course, very strongly built. The 
 animals at first were very shy of going into this box, 
 and were therefore kept hungry, and a tempting bit of 
 meat was put between the bars at the far end of the 
 cage. When an animal entered the box or trap an atten- 
 dant keeper pulled a cord and the slide fell down, 
 making a prisoner of him. This shifting den was, 
 
 iy Ye 
 
J 
 
 244 PLAYGROUND POR THE LIONS AND TIGERS 
 
 in fact, like a large mouse-trap, with the only difference 
 that it was not self-acting. 
 
 Several days were occupied in rémovies the animals, 
 As it was very desirable that they should be in no way 
 frightened, orders were given to various keepers in the 
 gardens to come to the old lion house directly the bell 
 rang. The trap was then set by the keeper Misselbrook, 
 and everything kept quiet. When the beast, attracted by 
 the bait, had gone into the shifting den, the bell was rung, 
 ‘the keepers at once came up, the trap was placed on a 
 truck and wheeled away, as quickly as was consistent with 
 safety, to the new lion house. Some animals bore their 
 journey better than others. The big young lion was the 
 
 worst of all. Most of us know how difficult it is to handle i 
 
 a common cat, even when in a bag, and if this be a difficult 
 job, how much more so to handle a lion mad with rage 
 and fear? The male tiger was also very furious. Several 
 of these animals were born in menageries, and had never 
 been trapped before. It was found more difficult to trap 
 and carry these than those which had been caught wild. 
 
 It is a curious fact that lions born in travelling mena- 
 geries are generally stronger than others. In former 
 times the cubs at the Zoo were often born with cleft 
 palates, so that they could not easily suck. Since the 
 mode of feeding has been changed the cubs are born with- 
 out any deformity. For some reason lions and tigers 
 breed better at Bristol than anywhere else. 
 
 The transfer of the animals from the indoor dens to 
 the playground outside was also a difficulty requiring 
 
 ingenuity to overcome. A wide passage runs between 
 
 the dens and the playgrounds: each den in the house 
 
 
 
 ob Ppa frei 
 
 
 
 ee ke 
 
 ea | 
 
 ST ec a od 
 

 
 AT THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS. 245 
 
 has a doorway at the back; immediately opposite this 
 door is a corresponding door in the playground. If, there- 
 fore, a communication were made between these two doors, 
 the animals could easily transfer themselves from one 
 place to the other. 
 
 An iron box was therefore constructed, both ends of 
 which could be left open or shut at will. This box was 
 mounted on wheels, so as easily to be shifted along the 
 passage by means of a tramway; and thus a through 
 communication was made between any two of the doors 
 as required. 
 
 In June 1879 the Carnivora were let out for the first 
 time. On going into the lion house and standing in 
 front of the tigers’ den, it was readily seen how admir- 
 ably the tunnel plan answered. ‘The wondering tigers 
 ascertained that the door at the back of their den was 
 wide open, and being open, that it cornmunicated appa- 
 rently with the open air. The tigers naturally, therefore, 
 took advantage of what they probably thought to be a 
 chance of immediate escape. 
 
 The first tiger that went through the tunnel belonged 
 to H.R.H. the Prince of Wales—a happy coincidence, 
 for is it not right that a tiger’s palace should be publicly 
 opened by a royal tiger? This tiger was a cautious 
 gentleman. He approached the tunnel with the greatest 
 caution, testing its stability with his huge paw at every 
 step. Seeing that the tigers were about to come out, I 
 speedily took up a position in front of the open-air play- 
 - ground. 
 
 The spectacle of the four tigers coming out into the 
 open was really grand. First, there appeared the head 
 
246 PLAYGROUND FOR THE LIONS AND TIGERS 
 
 of a tiger; he surveyed everything outside for a minute, 
 and then cautiously came out, creeping along, cat-like, 
 without the least noise, bringing to my mind the answer 
 of Dean Swift, who, upon being asked the meaning of 
 ‘walking circumspectly,’ answered, ‘Have you ever seen 
 a cat walking on the top of a wall studded with broken — 
 glass bottles ? well, that is walking circumspectly.’ : 
 
 It was indeed a beautiful sight to see these lovely 
 gigantic cats, the four tigers, gradually emerge one by ~ 
 one into their new large open playground. By a little 
 imagination one might easily fancy that the scene was 
 situated in the middle of India, and that the tigers were 
 coming out from their fastnesses to seek their food. 
 
 When they arrived at the open, it was very beautiful 
 to watch them crouch down, making themselves appear 
 as small as possible. Finding nothing to hurt or alarm 
 them, they curiously examined the trunks of the trees 
 and rockwork placed there for their especial beaefit. = 
 They trusted to their sense of smell and touch for objects 
 near them, and to their sense of sight for objects distant 
 from them. 
 
 One of the greatest ornaments the tiger’s head 
 possesses besides the regulation V mark over the eyes, — 
 which is observable in all thoroughbred tigers, is formed by 
 the long, graceful whiskers, situated for the most part on 
 each side of the upper lip. To the lower end of each 
 
 whisker is adjoined a very large bulb of nerve-matter,and _ 
 
 from this bulb of nerve-matter a nerve goes directly to 
 the brain. This nerve is, in fact, a telegraph wire, and F 
 the whiskers are the office at which news is received. If 
 an ordinary cat be examined, and her lips taken between 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 AT THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS. 247 
 
 the fingers, these bulbs of nerve-matter will be readily 
 perceived, and if one of the cat’s whiskers be gently pulled 
 the effect upon the cat will be instantaneous. When the 
 tiger is crouching for, or gradually creeping up to its prey 
 in the jungle, these whiskers warn it to keep to the 
 right or left, and tell it that the coast is clear or ob- 
 structed, so that when the animal’s eyes are fully occu- 
 pied watching its prey, the whiskers act as watchful 
 sentries to guide it. 
 
 When the four tigers were loose in their playground, 
 and the door closed behind them, they at once began to 
 play, and very beautiful were their movements as they 
 ran after each other, tumbled, and gambolled like young 
 kittens, their coats looking like satin in the warm sun. 
 
 All of a sudden, a new and, to them, a most inte- 
 resting object made itsappearance. This was ayoung and 
 very white zebu calf of a few days old, which came out of 
 its shed in full sight of the cage only a few yards off. 
 
 The moment the Prince’s big tiger saw it he crouched 
 to the ground, and remained stationary watching the 
 innocent-looking baby zebu. He was all fixed and statue- 
 like, perfectly motionless except the very tip of his tail, 
 about two inches of which kept jerking from side to side, 
 signifying great anxiety, expectation, and readiness for 
 immediate action. Presently the other three tigers per- 
 ceived that their comrade had seen something. They 
 also instantly assumed various attitudes of contemplated 
 attack, indicating their intense desire to kill this young 
 zebu calf and eat him. 
 
 This group of four magnificent tigers, all intent upon 
 one and the same object, was grand in the extreme. It 
 
/ 
 
 248 PLAYGROUND FOR THE LIONS AND TIGERS 
 
 was also very interesting to observe that the mother of the 
 young zebu seemed to know instinctively that her calf 
 was in danger, as she appeared to warn it in her own 
 peculiar way. ; 
 
 I left the four tigers still looking at the zebu calf, 
 when we adjourned to watch the lions come out into their 
 playground at the other end of the four large iron cages. 
 
 These lions seemed to be of a somewhat different dispo- 
 sition from the tigers, more courageous, but not so active. 
 When the door was opened, the two lionesses came out, 
 but not so the old lion. The ladies of the family first in- 
 spected their outdoor den, and then retired through their 
 tunnel. Iran round into the house, and found the old 
 lion sitting, looking rather sulky, and evidently much dis- 
 inclined to move. One of the lionesses then went up to 
 her lord and master and patted him slightly on the face, 
 as much as to say, ‘J have looked over our new house; it 
 is a splendid place; so come out and see it.’ But the 
 noble brute would not stir, nor do anything else, but in a 
 condescending way, to oblige the ladies, he just peeped 
 through the tunnel. , 
 
 The idea of letting the large Carnivora roam compara- 
 tively loose at their free will has thus at last been 
 realised ; and the public will, without doubt, pass a vote 
 of thanks to the Zoological Society by acclamation. 
 
 I protest against the idea that every animal is to be 
 killed by man without check or hindrance. Tigers, though 
 frightfully destructive, are not always the ferocious beasts 
 they are represented to be. A sportsman wanting to 
 kill a tiger intrudes on his retirement in his private 
 jungle, and makes the beast savage. When the beast is 
 
 
 

 
 AT THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS. 249 
 
 wounded it turns on its pursuer and is forthwith termed 
 ‘a ferocious brute.’ A man would become a ferocious 
 brute if he was persecuted by all the world. I like to 
 let all things live, for everything has its use. 
 
 I have no practical experience of tigers except in the 
 state of captivity. I observe that caged tigers are not 
 always in a state of ferocity. They will bask in the sun, 
 and seem as happy as a cat before a fire, and I have no 
 doubt that if we could see the tiger at home in his own 
 jungle, we should find that he enjoyed life as much as any 
 pussy-cat can. 
 
 I protest against the wanton destruction of wild 
 animals by sportsmen. It is almost impossible to take up 
 any book on foreign sporting without reading of scenes 
 something as follows: An animal, we will say a bear, is 
 seen quietly enjoying himself or having his dinner. The 
 sportsman immediately contemplates the destruction of 
 the bear. He fires a bullet into him, and breaks the 
 bear’s leg, giving the poor animal intense agony. The 
 bear then charges the man who has injured him, and if he 
 survives the attack, the sportsman in his book describes 
 the bear as a ferocious brute. I don’t think anybody can 
 blame the bear for taking his own part. If the man had 
 left the bear alone, and not begun the row, the bear, on 
 seeing the man, would have most likely sneaked away as 
 quickly as possible. 
 
 I believe that if a tiger were not hungry, and not 
 looking out for his food, he would, if he heard the approach 
 of men coming into his home among the underwood, 
 hide or try to sneak away, and if the men passed on 
 nothing would happen. Tigers must, of course, live, and 
 
\ 
 
 250. PLAYGROUND FOR THE LIONS AND TIGERS. 
 
 if they are hungry would as soon kill a man, woman, or 
 child, as any other animal. Even in this case I almost 
 doubt if the animal can be called ferocious, as he is only 
 following the instincts of his nature, and we do not apply 
 the term ‘ ferocious’ to a cat when she is killing a mouse. 
 If a dog were to come into the room where a cat had 
 kittens, she would fly at the dog; but this cannot be 
 called ferocity; it is only natural instinct to defend her 
 young; but if a cat came into my room where I am now 
 writing, and flew straight at my face, without any provo- 
 cation on my part, then I should call it a ferocious cat. 
 Tigers have their uses, and I understand that in districts 
 where tigers are killed down, the wild pigs and deer . . 
 have so increased that they do much damage to the crops 
 of the natives. One thing, I think, is quite certain, that 
 the balance of nature according to the law of ‘ eat and be 
 eaten’ is so admirably adjusted that it is difficult for man 
 
 to interfere without disarranging the whole order of 
 things. 
 
 
 

 
 251 
 
 TIGER FIGHT AT THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS. 
 
 In November 1879 a severe fight took place between two 
 of the tigers at the Zoological Gardens, an event, I am 
 glad to say, not very common. 
 
 It is customary to place tigers that are likely to pair 
 in the same den. For some time two tigers, the female 
 being a Chinese tiger, and the male a native of Malacca, 
 were mated in the same den. They agreed very well 
 until the day in question. They were playing together 
 quietly, when by accident (I suppose) the lady tiger sud- 
 -denly struck one of her sharp claws through the septum 
 of the gentleman tiger’s nose, tearing it completely 
 through. The male tiger immediately pulled back his 
 head with a jerk, and the lady’s claw in consequence cut 
 its way out of the tender skin of the nose, naturally caus- 
 ing great pain and bleeding. 
 
 Not liking this sort of courting, the male tiger turned 
 upon and pitched into his sweetheart, rolled her over, and 
 gave her a good thrashing; there the matter would have 
 ended, but as he was walking away, the lady unwisely, 
 and wishing to ‘have the last word,’ followed him and 
 bit him in the thigh. War to the knife was then pro- 
 claimed. The male, the stronger of the two, rushed at 
 her, rolled her over, pinned her by the throat, and the 
 two fought most desperately. The sharp, sabre-shaped, 
 
252 TIGER FIGHT AT THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS, ~ 
 
 razor-edged canines of the male tiger made a terrible 
 wound in the female’s neck, and there was plenty of 
 blood lost on both sides. 
 
 Hearing the fight going on with the tigers, the lions 
 at the other end of the house thought that they too 
 might as well have a bit of a fight on their own account. 
 They bristled their manes and hair, lashed their tails, 
 swore a good deal, but luckily did not pitch into each 
 other, although a Frenchman writes, ‘to quiet them,’ to 
 use his own expression, ‘I ran up and down; I made great 
 noises ; I agitated my hat; I waved my handkerchief to 
 disturb them, but they were agitated by so strong anger, 
 that my efforts were of little effect.’ 
 
 After the tigers had grappled with each other like 
 two fighting cats, they luckily came near to the bars of 
 their cage, and Sutton, the keeper, who thoroughly 
 understands the management of these big Carnivora, 
 contrived to make the male tiger let go his hold, and got 
 him into one of the sleeping compartments in the den. 
 The lady, who really began the quarrel by scratching the 
 gentleman’s face, lay still for some time and bled a great 
 deal, which bleeding probably saved her life. After a 
 while she was induced to creep into her own sleeping den 
 at the back, and though of course her nerves were consider- 
 ably upset, she was soon all right again, but will no doubt 
 be more careful for the future to carry on her domestic 
 quarrels without such free use of her sharp nails. 
 
 N.B.—The best way to stop tigers, cats, dogs, monkeys, 
 or even men and women fighting is to squirt water strongly 
 into their faces. The effect is marvellous. Try it. 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 253 
 
 POLAR BEAR CUBS. 
 
 In December 1871 a beautiful little polar bear cub 
 arrived at the Zoological Gardens from the Arctic regions. 
 It was presented to the society by Mr. Smith, on his 
 return from a voyage to the high latitudes in his private 
 schooner ‘Sampson.’) He brought home this little bear 
 with him. The sailors christened the little beast Sampson 
 in honour of their vessel. He was a jolly little fellow, 
 about a year old, as far as we could judge, and was 
 installed in a private den next door to the original polar 
 hear, which everybody knew so well, and which came to 
 the Gardens in September 1846. I am sorry to say 
 that Polar Bear No. 1 did not welcome his young rela- 
 tive, Polar Bear No. 2, with such cordiality as one might 
 expect at Christmas-time, for I saw him run at and snarl 
 at him like an ill-tempered old beast as he was. Samp- 
 son was about the size of a large Newfoundland dog, 
 but more short and stumpy, with a splendid shaggy coat 
 of long yellow hair, and his general appearance reminded 
 me of an animated door-mat. When he stood on his hind 
 legs he looked like a fat boy with an ulster coat on. 
 As the old polar bear was about six feet in length, and 
 about three feet two inches high, it was not safe to let out 
 
254 POLAR BEAR CUBS. 
 
 the cub into his den, as the cub would have had no chance 
 if the ‘old man’ pitched into him. 
 
 The natural history of the polar bear is very interesting, 
 for there is a great deal in his economy which is well 
 worthy of study, as proving the grand old rule that the 
 structure of every animal is admirably suited to the cli- 
 mate in which he lives and the duties he has to perform. 
 What can be a more wonderful example of the adaptation of 
 structure to the mode of life than that which we find in 
 the polar bear? In the first place his coat is white. Most 
 Arctic creatures are: white; doubtless because white is 
 a bad conducting colour. Again, the hair of the polar 
 bear is exceedingly long, and yet it does not easily be- 
 come wet. After he has been in the water the animal 
 has only to shake himself, just as we trundle a mop and 
 he will dry in a few seconds. If this were not the case, 
 when at home the poor polar bear, after a dip in the water, 
 would soon be a mass of ice. 
 
 I have the foot of a polar bear now before me. I find 
 an admirable provision in this foot for preventing its owner 
 slipping on the ice. As an old woman ties a bit of list 
 on the bottom of her shoes to prevent slipping in frosty 
 weather, so we find a somewhat similar provision in the 
 bear, the sole of whose foot is nearly as hairy as the top of 
 his head, only the hairs on the foot are thinner and longer. 
 
 A polar bear has to walk nearly all his life upon nothing” 
 but snow and ice. If, therefore, he had not natural 
 snow shoes, his life would become a burden to him. Ifwe 
 watch the polar bear walking at the Zoological Gardens, it 
 will be seen that he goes with a kind of shuffle, lifting his 
 feet but a little way off the ground, so that he can get 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 POLAR BEAR CUBS. 255 
 
 over the ground quickly, and without fear of aslip. It has 
 
 been aptly written, ‘The paths of the bear, when he 
 ranges in quest of his food, are mostly on the ice; and 
 he has frequently to stand upon ice while by main force 
 he hauls his food out of the water; and that food consists 
 often of living animals, which of course make all the 
 resistance in their power. But the vast size of the bear’s 
 paws enables him to stand on a broader base than even the 
 elephant, while the great length of his neck gives him 
 the power of reaching to a considerable distance. His 
 claws are neither so long nor so crooked as those of the 
 land hears ; and, from their form, they are digging claws 
 more than climbing or prehensile ones. These agree with 
 his habits. Heis notaclimber, and he cannot well be, for 
 there is not much to climb in the places of his habitation 
 save rocks and icebergs. The form of the claws enables 
 him to dig his food from under the snow when such an 
 operation is necessary ; and the texture and colour of 
 his coat render him proof to all the vicissitudes of seasons 
 and weather.’ 
 
 As we find lions, tigers, leopards, &c., in warm climates, 
 who keep in check the superabundance of the herbivora, so 
 we find in the Arctic regions that the polar bear keeps in 
 check the seals and walruses, for these animals form the 
 chief food of the great Arctic carnivore, though he will 
 eat fish as well when he cannot get a good plump seal or 
 an aldermanic walrus. 
 
 The seals have air-holes in the ice, and Mr. Bear 
 catches them ‘on the hop’ when the poor things come up to 
 breathe; he also stalks them when on the ice floes, coming 
 up as quiet and almost as invisible as a white cat hunting 
 
256 POLAR BEAR CUBS. 
 
 rats and mice when deep snow is on the ground. I must 
 say I should like to see a battle between a polar bear and 
 a walrus, though I think the sharp canines of the bear 
 would be a match for the walrus’s ivory pike-like — 
 should he once get within biting range. | 
 
 The seal seems to be the chief food of the bear, and 
 in capturing it he exercises great ingenuity and patience, 
 rivalling the Esquimaux in the manner in which he will 
 sometimes sit for half a day watching it, and if unable to 
 
 take his prey by approaching it on the ice, getting quietly = 
 
 into the water to leeward of his intended victim, gradually 
 nearing it by a series of short dives, and at last coming 
 
 up just under the spot where the seal is lying. If this — . 
 
 manoeuvre is successful there is no chance for the seal, as 
 by rolling into the water it falls into the paws of the bear; — 
 while if it lies still, its pursuer, by a powerful spring, 
 pounces upon it on the ice. If, however, the seal per- 
 ceives the bear in time, and escapes by a dive into the 
 water, Bruin’s indignation knows no bounds, and is most 
 ludicrous to behold. When approaching a seal on the 
 ice the bear doubles his fore paws up under him and 
 pushes himself along by means of his hind legs until 
 within easy distance for a spring, and consequently the 
 upper part of his fore paws gets rubbed quite bare. 
 During the winter, when hard driven by hunger, the 
 bear does not scruple to attack a man; and many hunters, 
 while engaged in visiting their seal-nets, have been un- 
 comfortably surprised by feeling a smart blow on the 
 shoulder, and finding a rough old bear standing over them. 
 It is said that the only way of escaping in such a case 
 is to feign death, and to shoot the bear while watching 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 POLAR BEAR CUBS. 257 
 
 you. A native of Upernavik, however, who had just 
 ‘pulled up a sealin his net, received a pat from a bear, who 
 took no further notice of him, but at once applied himself 
 to the seal and commenced to devour his favourite food. 
 
 What lots of things must be going on in the Arctic 
 regions that we know nothing about, and, I regret to say, 
 are not likely to know! In most, I am afraid all, books of 
 Arctic travel, we read accounts of polar bears being seen ; 
 then comes the old story—‘ out with the rifles,’—and away 
 somebody or other goes to kill the poor beast. ‘ Some- 
 body or other’ possibly misses the bear, who, of course, 
 charges, and perhaps nips his enemy pretty smartly. The 
 shooter comes home and writes, ‘The ferocious brute 
 then felled me to the ground, and made his teeth meet 
 in my arm,’ &., &c. ‘Ferocious brute,’ indeed! I think 
 the boot is on the wrong leg. The bear is at home, the 
 shooter is a stranger, and if he chooses to insult Mr. Polar 
 Bear on his own estate, he must take the consequences. 
 
 I now give an old, but yet I believe a true story, to 
 show how cruelly these poor polar bears are used. 
 
 When a certain frigate, which went out to make dis- 
 coveries towards the North Pole, was locked in the ice, the 
 man at the mast-head one day gave notice that three bears 
 were approaching towards the ship. ‘ They had, no doubt, 
 been invited by the scent of some blubber of a sea-horse 
 that the crew had killed a few days before, which had been 
 set on fire, and was burning on the ice at the time of their 
 approach. They were a she bear and two cubs, nearly as 
 large as the dam. They ran eagerly to the fire, and drew 
 out of the flames part of the flesh of the sea-horse that 
 remained unconsumed, and ate it voraciously. The crew 
 
 Ss 
 
258 POLAR BEAR CUBS. 
 
 from the ships threw great lumps of the flesh of the sea- 
 horse, which they had still remaining, upon the ice. These 
 the old bear fetched away singly, laid every lump before 
 her cubs as she brought it, and, dividing it, gave to each 
 a share, reserving but a small portion for herself. As she 
 was fetching away the last piece, the sailors levelled their 
 muskets at the cubs, and shot them both dead; and in 
 her retreat they wounded the dam, but not mortally. 
 Though she was herself so dreadfully wounded that she 
 could scarcely crawl to the place where her young lay, she 
 
 carried the lump of flesh she had fetched away,as she had 
 
 done others before; tore itin pieces, and laid it before them ; 
 and when they did not eat, she laid her paws first upon 
 one and then upon the other, endeavouring to raise them 
 up, uttering the most piteous moans. When she found 
 she could not stir them, she went off, and when she had 
 gone some distance looked back and moaned; and that 
 not availing to entice them away, she returned, and smell- 
 ing round them, began to lick their wounds. She went 
 off a second time as before, and having crawled a few 
 paces, looked again behind her, and for some time stood 
 moaning. But still her cubs not rising to follow her, 
 she returned to them again, and, with signs of inexpressi- 
 ble tenderness, went round, pawing them, and moaning. 
 Finding at last that they were cold and lifeless, she raised 
 her head towards the ship, and uttered a growl of despair, 
 which the mariners returned with a volley of musket-balls. 
 She then fell between her cubs, and expired in the act of 
 licking their wounds.’ 
 
 This was a nice bit of cruelty. Reader, do you not 
 
 agree with me ? 
 
 
 
; - 
 
 
 
 POLAR BEAR CUBS. 259 
 
 I understand polar bear’s flesh can be eaten, but that 
 it tastes rank and fishy. The liver is reported to be 
 poisonous. Polar bears pair in July and August. They 
 are said to hybernate about Christmas-time, and to come 
 out in April; they get under the snow, and make a kind 
 of nest deep down in a snow-heap, and go to sleep till 
 the weather softens. I know not how far this is the fact. 
 There are but few naturalists in the Arctic regions in the 
 depth of winter, when the bears would be hybernating. 
 It is now more generally believed that only the female 
 while with young retires during the cold season. 
 
 Polar bears often grow to an enormous size. I find a 
 record of one which measured eight feet seven from the 
 snout to the root of the tail, and weighed 1,600 Ibs. 
 
 My friend Captain Gray kindly presented me with a 
 magnificent skin of a polar bear. It is a lovely white 
 colour, and the fur as thick as an Axminster carpet. It 
 measures eight feet in length, and eight feet across the 
 fore paws, and seven feet six inches across the hind paws. 
 The beast which wore the skin must have been an enor- 
 mous animal, yet they are sometimes much larger. 
 Captain Gray writes me as follows :— 
 
 ‘ Bears attain a very large size. I shot one in 1870 
 eleven feet from nose to tail, and eleven feet across the hind 
 legs. I would not say that this was by any means the largest 
 I have seen, but it was the most perfect I ever came across. 
 Males before they attain this size are generally destroyed 
 in encounters amongst themselves. Bears are great swim- 
 mers, and it takes a smart pull in a whale-boat to come up 
 with one if itis any distance away. They only use the fore 
 
 s2 
 
260 POLAR BEAR CUBS. 
 
 paws in swimming; the hind legs are at rest, and stretched 
 
 out behind them. They can dive, too, like a whale, down 
 at one side of a piece of ice, and up at the other, when 
 pursued, or hunting for food. I was very much amused on 
 one voyage at a certain bear; he was upon a sheet of very 
 thin ice, and when he came to a place which could not 
 bear im, he lay down flat, stretching out his legs both 
 behind and before, and pulled himself along by his fore 
 paws, thus covering as great a surface of ice as possible ; 
 and when he did fall through, which he did frequently, he 
 dived for some place where he found firmer footing.’ 
 
 It has often struck me as curious that the polar bear 
 should be represented by a group of stars which keep their 
 silent watch, during the long dismal Arctic winter, over the 
 very place where he reigns supreme. Everybody knows 
 the constellation of the ‘Great Bear,’ and how that his two 
 foremost stars indicate the position of the pole-star. The 
 Pheenicians gave this constellation the name of Dubbe et 
 Chaber, or the ‘Great Bear;’ the Hebrews and Arabs 
 called it Dub Achber, the ‘Great Bear ;’° and, above all, is 
 not the bear-keeper Arcturus mentioned in that most 
 marvellous and grand Hebrew poem, the Book of Job, in 
 the following soul-moving lines ?— 
 
 And he setteth a seal about the stars, 
 Bowing the heavens himself alone, 
 And treading on the heights of the sea ; 
 
 Making Arcturus, Orion, and Pleiades, 
 And the chambers of the south. 
 
 I am told by a missionary who has been living among 
 the Esquimaux and Indians in North America along Lake 
 Athabaska, the Great Slave Lake, the Mackenzie River, 
 
 
 
 “ 
 « 
 ~~ 
 rt 
 r 
 aa 
 * 
 

 
 POLAR BEAR CUBS. 261 
 
 and Buckland Mountains (so named after my father by Sir 
 John Ross) on the border of Alaska, that the Esquimaux 
 have discovered that in the fur of the polar bear there is a 
 peculiar repellent power of snow; thus when people come 
 in covered with snow, it is the custom to brush the snow 
 off their fur dresses with a piece of polar bear skin. The 
 philosophy of the fact is not apparent, but still it is a fact 
 that in these far distant countries, polar bear skin clothes- 
 brushes have long been used as snow-brushes. 
 
 In November 1876, Sir Allen Young, who had lately 
 returned from the Arctic regions in the s.s. ¢ Pandora,’ 
 called upon me, with the medical officer of the ship, Dr. 
 Horner, and asked me to prescribe for a young polar 
 bear (then at the Zoological) which they had brought 
 home in the ‘ Pandora’ as a present for his Royal High- 
 ness the Prince of Wales. The following morning the 
 death of the bear was announced, and Captain Young 
 allowed me to make a cast of him. Mr. Searle, therefore, 
 went to the gardens, and brought the poor bear in a sack 
 from the dissecting-room to Albany Street. I found 
 making the mould a matter of very great difficulty and 
 labour, but I finished it, and there is now in my museum 
 a most perfect cast of a polar bear; almost every hair is 
 perfectly marked, and the features of the poor beast 
 are marvellously lifelike. This young bear measured five 
 feet in length, and weighed from two to three hundred 
 pounds. Dr. Horner has kindly given me the following 
 memoir of the pet of the ‘ Pandora’ :— 
 
 He was’ captured off Cape Horsburgh, North Devon, in 
 the north-west of Baffin’s Bay, while swimming in the water 
 in company with two other bears. Nothing but their three 
 
262 POLAR BEAR CUBS. 
 
 heads could be seen from the ship, making off as fast as pos- 
 sible, every now and then looking anxiously round to see if 
 mischief was intended. A boat was lowered, which, with 
 a little hard pulling, soon overtook them, when the old 
 mother and also one of the young ones were despatched 
 by a shot in the head. Our little friend was only captured 
 after considerable difficulty, for he showed no intention of 
 letting the noose which was held out to him drop quietly 
 over his head, but ducked and dodged round the boat, 
 making the most frantic efforts to become an inside pas- 
 senger, and bellowing loudly the whole time. When 
 secured, he was dragged to the ship, and after being 
 allowed to expend a little of his superfluous energy in try- 
 ing to board her, was hauled on deck, and firmly chained 
 toa staple. He soon recovered this operation, and lost 
 no time in showing his temper had already been spoilt, 
 and that the only sugar-plum to which he was partial 
 was the calf of man. | 
 
 He was considerably larger in size than the other 
 young bear, a female, which led the captain to suppose 
 that he must have been only the adopted child of the old 
 bear, who had perhaps swopped him with another of her 
 sex for one of her own offspring. At all events, when she 
 was being skinned and cut up, he showed the greatest — 
 interest in the operation. At night he had to be contented 
 with the skin of his mother, to which he clung affection- 
 ately, and went to sleep. — 
 
 The next morning he was in as bad a humour as ever, 
 and would listen to no one who did not offer him a piece 
 of seal’s blubber. 
 
 A few nights after this Bruin managed to get loose, 
 
 
 

 
 POLAR BEAR CUBS. 263 
 
 and had he not'been detected in the act he would probably 
 have had the quarter-deck to himself in a very short 
 time. | 
 He had a small cage rigged up for him over the 
 officer’s mess-room, with just space for him to turn 
 round. Here he remained during the rest of his journey 
 to England, making himself extremely disagreeable at 
 times, though on the whole behaving himself as well as 
 bears can be expected to do under such trying circum- 
 stances. Like other folks, he had his likes and his dis- 
 likes. He had a strong partiality for an old Esquimaux 
 dog called King, whose greatest pleasure was to steal bits 
 of his food from between the bars of his cage, or have a 
 bite at one of his paws should it chance to be exposed. If 
 Bruin seemed at all down in the mouth, the sight of old 
 King would revive him at once. Like all children, little 
 Brownie could not get on without playthings, and for lack 
 of anything better he would rattle his chain with his paw 
 till he tired of it, and then set to and roar for hours 
 together, amusing no one but himself, but rather to the 
 discomfort of those who were in the room beneath him. 
 It was curious, too, to notice how noisy and irritable he 
 always became when the ship approached land or was in 
 the neighbourhood of ice. He evidently smelt their pre- 
 sence, for he would put his nose between the bars, and 
 sniff with as much satisfaction as if it were eau de Cologne. 
 One great drawback to having him on board was that he 
 frightened all the seals away, for they have no greater 
 enemy than a bear; so that after he became a passenger 
 the larder was seldom decorated with that luxury, seal’s 
 meat. 
 
264 POLAR BEAR CUBS. 
 
 He was just at that troublesome age, too, when young 
 bears cut their teeth, so that he liked something hard to 
 bite. This was shown by his gnawing through several 
 bars of wood in his efforts to bring. forward a troublesome 
 tooth, but it took a long time coming through. His age 
 must have been about six months, if born in March, as is 
 usual among bears. He was fed chiefly on seal’s blubber, 
 but was a little dainty at times, when he would only 
 consent to drinking the oil. For a change he would be 
 allowed a little seal’s or bear’s meat, or perhaps a bird 
 now and then. 
 
 It is the custom among whalers to call these bears — 
 ‘ Brownies,’ not because they are brown, but because they 
 are white. We therefore christened our captive in the 
 orthodox manner, and called him Brownie. However ill 
 adapted a name it seemed at first, it became him well 
 enough after he had been on board a month or so, in spite 
 of his having a wash-down every morning as regularly as 
 the decks. 
 
 The warmth of this more southerly climate did not 
 suit him at all. He could do nothing but lie down 
 and pant, and lick ice or drink water all day if the sun 
 came out. .‘ My constitution won’t stand this,’ he used to 
 say. ‘I can’t even cut my teeth properly ;’ 
 fellow, he was quite right, for they were the death of him. 
 He had a fit of an epileptiform character the second day 
 after reaching England. He was a few days afterwards 
 transported to the Zoological Gardens, where he moped 
 and pined away, eating nothing except two herrings for 
 the space of about a week. He felt the parting with poor 
 old King more than anything. Poor Brownie! he could 
 
 and, poor 
 
 
 

 
 ° 
 
 POLAR BEAR CUBS. 265 
 
 not last long at this rate, so he died one unlucky 
 Friday. 
 
 The tale of Ursa Minor is now told. He was a noisy 
 but well-meaning sort of baby, and had he lived he would, 
 no doubt, have been an honour to his country and his 
 race. 
 
266 
 
 DESCENT OF THE LION FROM NORTHUMBEE- 
 LAND HOUSE. 
 
 On July 2, 1874, I was fortunate enough to witness an 
 event which, though carried out without display or cere- 
 mony of any kind, was yet truly historical. The poor old 
 lion who had braved the battle and the breeze at the top 
 of Northumberland House, Charing Cross, for no less than — 
 125 years, descended from his exalted look-out, to be lost 
 to sight (as far as the wayfarers at Charing Cross are con- 
 cerned) for ever. 
 
 I was most fortunately passing to the Home Office, 
 Whitehall, when I spied our dear old friend the lion 
 swinging in mid-air. Scaffold-poles had been erected 
 over him; a strong rope three times round a pulley 
 ended in a hook, and the poor lion was gradually and 
 slowly going up, and up, and up. His venerable body 
 was enveloped in sacks, and chains (to which the pulley 
 was fastened) surrounded him. As he swung in mid-air 
 he looked round—a great, long look round—for the last 
 time, the very last time. _ 
 
 At last his paws were well off the stand, and he began 
 to descend very slowly. The poor brute cried, I am sure — 
 he did. If he did not, I felt inclined to shed a tear for 
 him, he looked so utterly miserable and crestfallen’; and 
 
 
 

 
 DESCENT OF LION FROM NORTHUMBERLAND HOUSE. 267 
 
 so he well might. Just as his noble face was eclipsed by 
 the parapet, I fancied I heard him roar a roar of agony, 
 indignation, and despair. I took off my hat and waved 
 him a last adieu, but I had not seen the last of him. 
 After a while he reappeared in his descent, with his noble 
 face gazing out between the walls of the arch, at the top 
 of which he had so long stood a silent but splendid sentry. . 
 As the men steadied him in the air he swung once heavily 
 forwards, and positively made a low bow by dipping his 
 head forward to myself and the crowd standing by the 
 fountains. He then descended bodily out of sight, and 
 the crowd dispersed with a melancholy look about them. 
 I was pleased to see this, as the lion is the emblem of 
 England; and we English do not like to see lions going 
 downwards—they should always be going upwards. 
 
 I then with a sorrowful heart copied the inscription 
 under the lion, as I saw a man begin work with a pickaxe 
 at the top of the parapet, and the inscription might not 
 be there the next morning. It ran thus :— 
 
 ALG: D:S 1749. C: N: REST 
 
 Under this, on the east side, was a monogram of the 
 letter A with an S twisted into it; on the west side the 
 letter N with a P: below this was a crest, viz. a coronet 
 with five spikes, carrying round balls, and underneath a 
 half-moon; on the other side was a coronet of different 
 pattern, with three strawberry leaves and a pheenix rising 
 from the flames ;—the former was the earl’s, the latter 
 the ducal coronet. 
 
 As I was walking away very melancholy I felt that I 
 should just like to pay my respects to the poor old lion, 
 
268 DESCENT OF LION FROM NORTHUMBERLAND HOUSE. | 
 
 I knocked the big knocker at the gates, and gave the 
 porter my name and business. The porter, who recol- 
 lected me, at once conducted me on to the roof, where 
 I found the old lion looking like a grand Egyptian lion 
 of the Pyramids. 
 
 I measured the lion, and the result is as follows: 
 From tip of nose to end of tail, eleven feet seven; tail, 
 four feet three ; height at shoulders, five feet five ; round 
 the mane, six feet; weight, about one and a half tons.! 
 The body is lead, the tail copper. When closely viewed 
 this noble lion is not pretty ; his features, especially about 
 the lips, nose, &c., are very deep-cut cavities, and the 
 mane is coarse ; the legs also appear rather clumsy; but 
 this shows the talent of the artist who made him, for he 
 knew, of course, that his lion would only be seen from 
 the street below; he was, therefore, obliged to cut in the 
 lines pretty deep; the result, as Londoners for one hun- 
 dred and twenty-five years past well know, being an im- 
 mense success. If the lines had not been well marked, 
 the lion from below would have looked sleek and cat-like, 
 and not like the noble British lion he is. There were 
 three coats of paint on the lion; one was bright blue. He 
 was painted blue in 1822 by the then Clerk of the Works. 
 
 The inscription, when interpreted, runs as follows :— 
 
 ALGERNON, DUKE OF SOMERSET, 1749, (AND THE) COUNTESS 
 NORTHUMBERLAND RESTORED. 
 
 1 I give for comparison the measurements of the old lion that died at 
 the Zoological Gardens May 1872 :—Nose to tip of tail 9 ft. 1 in., nose 
 to tip of ear 1 ft. 7 in., across upper portion of mane 2 ft. 5 in., tail 
 3 ft. 2 in., round forearm 1 ft. 3 in., tip of foot to top of back 2 ft. 
 10 in., at withers 2 ft. 7 in.—a fine fellow who died of old age, known 
 to be twenty years old. 
 
 
 

 
 DESCENT OF LION FROM NORTHUMBERLAND HOUSE. 269 
 
 The Duke began, his daughter finished, the restoration. 
 The lion represents the blue lion, the crest of the Percy 
 family, Earls of Northumberland. The stone on which 
 the lion stood, and into which his paws were fastened 
 with long iron rods leaded in, represented the chapeau 
 Vhonneur of the crest. 
 
 Northumberland House was first built by Henry 
 Howard, Earl of Northampton, in 1603; and the fourth 
 side of the square was added in 1636. The front was 
 restored when the lion was put up in 1749, 
 
 The lion was carefully lowered to the quadrangle 
 below, and then taken to the Duke of Northumberland’s 
 residence at Sion House, where, after 125 years’ service 
 at Charing Cross, he has begun life again. He was packed 
 up in alow cart, such as are used for carrying marble slabs, 
 and was then wheeled away in state down Whitehall, I 
 following behind, explaining to the crowd of people who 
 collected to stare at the lion’s face, as he glared at them 
 out of the straw packing in the cart, who and what this 
 noble lion was. Dear old Northumberland lion! good 
 - luck to you and the noble family you have represented so 
 many years, and whom I trust you will continue to guard 
 in health and wealth, peace and prosperity, for centuries 
 
 to come. 
 
270 
 
 LORD BUTE’S BEAVERS. 
 
 In August 1872 the Marquis of Bute wrote to me as - 
 follows: ‘I am anxious to obtain some live beavers to 
 ‘turn out in the Isle of Bute. I thought the climate in 
 Wales, which is hot, close, and exceedingly wet, would 
 not suit them so well as the clear and sharper, albeit mild 
 climate of the west of Scotland, where I have streams 
 running through pine woods, which I think would suit 
 them well.’ I wrote to North America and many other 
 places to get beavers for the Marquis. At last we managed 
 to procure, in October 1874, four—one pair from France 
 and one pair from America. They were carefully packed 
 and sent to Scotland, but unfortunately they did not live 
 very long. In December 1874 the Marquis wrote me as 
 follows: ‘ The beavers, when they were originally turned 
 into their enclosure, all took to the water, burrowing 
 under the banks, and have hardly been seen since. The 
 original and biggest pair, which came from France, dis- 
 agreed with the smaller pair from America, growling and 
 flying at them when they met. They established them- 
 selves in the swampy part of their demesne, damming up 
 the river, an operation which they have had to renew 
 more than once, owing to floods. The traces of their 
 work are apparent all about, in cutting down trees, for 
 
 
 

 
 LORD BUTE’S BEAVERS. 271 
 
 which purpose they avoid, except in one case, the Coni- 
 fers, I suppose hecause of the taste. Holes became 
 manifest, and also a great round heap of sticks near the 
 water, which we discovered a few days ago was the roof of 
 their house, the dwelling part being a chamber excavated 
 in the earth, and approached by at least two long passages, 
 one of which opens under the water of the stream, and 
 the other on to the land, but both under the water-level 
 of the swamp. This residence is occupied by the French 
 pair, or one of them. It was suspected that one or more 
 had escaped, and a day or two ago the usual gnawing and 
 damming phenomena were found on the moors, a good 
 way from the enclosure, in a little hollow where there is a 
 stream with a quantity of whins and some small alders or 
 birches. And now I hear one is found dead, I suppose in 
 the neighbourhood of the last-mentioned spot. I believe 
 it is one of the Americans. _ 
 
 Shortly after this two dead beavers arrived from the 
 Marquis; one, the larger of the two, I began to dis- 
 sect at once, and the following are its dimensions :— 
 Extreme length, three feet four inches; tail, ten inches ; 
 weight, about twenty pounds. 
 
 The hind feet were five inches long and four inches 
 wide. There is a strong web between each toe. The two 
 innermost toes have a second nail fitting accurately into 
 the primary one; the edges ofthese are very sharp. The 
 animal probably uses these nails for cleaning his fur. 
 The other toes are rounded and broad, so as to enable 
 the animal to scratch. 
 
 The femur or thigh-bone was four inches long, and 
 over an inch wide in the widest part. 
 
212 LORD BUTE’'S BEAVERS. 
 
 The fibula is thrown out behind the tibia in the form 
 of a bow; the heel-bone is also curiously arranged so that 
 the beaver can easily sit up on his haunches. 
 
 The clavicles or collar-bones are very large, measuring 
 in this specimen two and a half inches long, and one- 
 fourth of an inch across. The muscles of the fore-arm are 
 exceedingly strong. These muscles and collar-bones give 
 the animal very great power where the use of a fore-arm 
 is required. They use their fore-arm to push along in 
 front of them logs of wood and other building materials, 
 thus transporting their heavy weights by water, not land. 
 The collar-bone is also of very great importance to the 
 animal in its building operations. 
 
 I was much astonished to find the cesophagus or gullet 
 sosmall. It is not large enough to admit the little 
 finger. The same strange conformation may be observed 
 in the esophagus of the otter. 
 
 The stomach is very simple, and not large for the size 
 of the animal: it contained a large quantity of gnawed 
 wood or bark. There is a remarkable gland situated at 
 the junction of the cesophagus and the stomach; I do 
 not know its use, unless it is to secrete a fluid to help 
 dissolve the woody material which goes into the stomach. 
 The small intestines are very long and small; the larger 
 intestines are exceedingly capacious. The colon is the 
 size of a quart pot. The whole of this part was gorged 
 with gnawed wood. 
 
 The brain is very large and highly developed ; this one 
 would expect with such an exceedingly intelligent animal 
 asa beaver. The brain is about the size of a large wal- 
 nut, and weighs one and a half ounces. No nerves are 
 
 
 

 
 LORD BUTE’S BEAVERS. 273 
 
 specially developed except the olfactory; the foramen in 
 the skull for the nerves going to the whiskers, which is 
 so large in the seal and otter, is exceedingly small in the 
 beaver. . 
 There are twenty-six vertebree in the tail; the sides of 
 these vertebre are very widely expanded, so as to form a 
 secure attachment fora very peculiar cartilaginous substance 
 which forms a substructure of the tail. This cartilaginous 
 substance is interlaced with numerous tendons, which 
 work the tail, and is covered with a rather thin skin, 
 thickly studded with scales. The tail itself measures 
 ten and a half inches in length and five and three quarter 
 inches in width. There are eighty-three scales counting 
 down the centre line in a longitudinal direction, and 
 twenty-two counting in a cross direction. The whole 
 mechanism of the tail and hind legs forms a most ad- 
 mirable support to the beaver when building his house, 
 the wood for which he cuts with his splendid chisel-like 
 teeth. Iam quite against the idea of the beaver using his 
 tail as a trowel; the animal uses it as a prop to support 
 his heavy body while engaged in gnawing, and also as a 
 rudder, especially when diving or rising to the surface. 
 These uses can easily be seen in the beavers at the 
 Zoological. The arrangement of the pelvis bones and tail 
 reminds me very much of that seen in the fossil mylodon, 
 the gigantic creature which gained its living by pulling 
 down boughs of trees when in a sitting attitude. 
 
 The teeth are as sharp as chisels, the outside being 
 of an orange colour. The upper teeth measure three- 
 quarters of an inch, the lower one inch: both are 
 
 wide. 
 
274 LORD BUTE’S BEAVERS. 
 
 The beaver is a typical rodent, or gnawing animal, and 
 its teeth are most beautifully adapted for the carpenter’s 
 work it has todo. The following is a capital account of 
 - the beaver’s carpenter’s tools :— 
 
 ‘His cutting teeth are two in each jaw, very large and 
 strong, and standing so far clear of the lips that the 
 animal can easily gnaw or cut a hard substance without 
 the least danger of injury to these. The structure of 
 
 these teeth, though common to most of the order, is a 
 
 peculiar and well worthy of notice. On their front sides 
 these teeth are broad and flat, not white, like the teeth 
 of most animals, but of a brownish yellow or chestnut 
 colour. They have along the front surface a plate of very 
 hard enamel, which covers the bone or principal substance 
 of the tooth, just as a piece of steel may be seen covering 
 the iron on the cutting edge of a chisel, which is both 
 sharp and not liable to be broken. The body of the tooth 
 is compact, but not very hard bone, and it is strengthened 
 by a projecting ridge on the posterior surface, in the same 
 manner as hoes and various other tools are fortified by a 
 ridge extending from the socket which receives the handle. 
 The tooth is thus formed upon the most skilful mechan- 
 ical principles, both in the distribution of the materials 
 and in the form. Bone, though not so hard a substance as 
 enamel, is tougher, just as iron is tougher than hardened 
 steel. The softness makes it wear faster than the enamel, 
 and the toughness makes the tooth less easily broken. If 
 the whole tooth had been enamel, it would have in time 
 got blunted by the cutting edge wearing down faster 
 than the rest; but the bone wears with less action than 
 the enamel, and thus the enamel always stands highest 
 
 
 

 
 nr 
 
 LORD BUTE’S BEAVERS, 27 
 
 and forms a cutting edge, while the bone supports it 
 behind like the basil or sloping edge of a tool. Thus the 
 cutting tooth of the beaver is a chisel ; and whether the 
 carpenter’s chisel has been made in imitation of it or not, 
 the same arrangement of iron and steel as there is of bone 
 and enamel in the tooth, is the best possible for.a chisel 
 of all work. There is one property in the chisel of the 
 beaver, however, which no art of man can give to the 
 chisel of the carpenter: the incisive or chisel teeth in the 
 beaver have not roots consisting wholly of bone, as in the 
 teeth of most animals, and as in the grinders of the 
 beaver itself; they are inserted deeply in the jaws, but 
 in a peculiar kind of socket, a socket which exists only 
 during dentition in other teeth. These sockets continue 
 gradually to produce the tooth in such a manner as 
 that both bone and enamel grow at the root as fast as 
 they are worn down at the point, and consequently 
 the chisel teeth remain in good condition during the 
 whole life of the animal. Their chisel edges are directly 
 opposed to each other, so that when the animal bites it 
 bites clean, just in the same manner as a workman 
 cuts a wire or other small piece of metal with his cutting 
 pincers.’ 
 
 Many curious things are told about beavers’ teeth. 
 Thus: ‘ Wherefore the biting of this beast is very deep, 
 being able to crush asunder the hardest bones, and com- 
 monly he never looses his hold until he feeleth his teeth 
 gnash one against another.’ 
 
 Anxious to make as much of this large specimen as 
 I could, I propped up the beaver in position, and then 
 made a cast of him, which is now in my museum, and 
 
 T 2 
 
-D76 LORD BUTE’S BEAVERS. 
 
 which I am happy to say came out exceedingly well, re- " 
 cording the outlines and characteristics of this remark- 
 able animal better than any stuffing can do. The mark- 
 ings on the tail came out splendidly. > Saieee 
 
 I made a most careful examination of the ‘ castoreum,’ 
 and afterwards a splendid preparation of it. The casto- 
 reum is secreted by two glandular bodies, each about an 
 inch and a half long. These I ascertained, by means of a 
 bristle, communicate with a pouch, which appeared quite 
 flaccid. I introduced a blowpipe, and was delighted tofind — 
 that there existed an immense pouch. The momentit was 
 full I cast it, so as to preserve its exact shape, and found 
 that when fully extended the pouch measured eleven and 
 a half inches long over the bend, and eleven inches round, 
 and would contain about a pint of water. I have not — 
 the least idea of the use of the pouch. The castoreum 
 itself is a resinous kind of secretion, and when burnt has q . 
 a highly aromatic odour. 
 
 Two kinds of castor are met with in the drug trade; — 
 the best is from Russia, Prussia, and Poland, but is now q 
 scarcely to be obtained. The pods are large and firm, and ~ 
 their contents dry, of a red-brown colour, pulverulent, but 3 
 somewhat tough, of a strong and peculiar odour, and a 
 
 bitter, nauseous taste. The castor ordinarily sold is im- 9 
 
 ported from Canada. The podsare usually flatter, smailer, q 
 and moister than the former, and their contents so miscel- 4 
 laneous as to baffle all attempts at description. The 4 
 matter which they contain is commonly of a yellow or buff a 
 colour, of a resinous appearance, and a faint odour. 
 Sometimes it is soft, viscid, and fetid in the extreme; — 
 sometimes unctuous, and sometimes black and inodorous. 4 
 
 
 

 
 LORD BUTE’S BEAVERS. 277 
 
 The yellow resinous kind is usually preferred, but it is 
 difficult to say on what grounds. 
 
 Castor has been extolled as a safe and effectual anti- 
 spasmodic in typhus, hysteria, and epilepsy; but its un- 
 certain composition and quality, and its extremely bigh 
 price, are objections to its use. Moreover, its virtues 
 are of a very doubtful description, and it seems uncertain 
 whether any real benefit has followed the use of the drug 
 in its most genuine form. It has been administered in 
 doses of from ten to twenty grains, the tincture is also 
 prescribed as an addition to anti-nervous mixtures. 
 
 As regards the use made of this castoreum by the animal 
 himself, Lord Bute made the following observations :— 
 ‘Two of the animals were for a long time shut up ina 
 part of the battlements of the castle at Cardiff, where I 
 had a temporary pond built for them, and could watch 
 them very well, which I did. They would often come 
 out and sit upon the edge of the water, grooming their 
 coats with their fore-paws. The action was something 
 between a cat washing, and a monkey scratching itself. 
 They would scratch their heads, and then rub their faces 
 with both paws. The effect was extremely grotesque, 
 very much heightened by the creatures’ imperturbable 
 look of stupid gravity. On these occasions I always 
 observed a peculiar action, which I never doubted was 
 that of taking the castoreum on their paws and lubricat- 
 ing their bodies with it.’ 
 
 In November 1874 a third dead beaver was sent me by 
 the Marquis, who wrote: ‘ Another of the beavers is dead. 
 It was seen quite well apparently, as late as Sunday morning, 
 when it was working at a tree which it had just succeeded 
 
278 LORD BUTE’S BEAVERS. 
 
 in felling. On Tuesday it was found dead. The only one, 4 
 
 therefore, which is, as far as I know, alive, is one of those 
 
 which eseaped to the moors. It is exceedingly provoking, 
 and to me quite inexplicable. The climate here cannot | 
 be worse than that of Canada; the inclosure in which 
 they were is very large, indeed, they never seem to have 
 visited six-sevenths of it; the variety of trees offered to 
 their ravages is very great, and they took to the alders, 
 and, to a certain extent, the oaks, quite freely. Perhaps 
 your post-mortem may enable you to give some solution. 
 I am very loth to abandon the effort to acclimatise 
 them altogether. I have just had a conversation with 
 the gamekeeper, who has taken much interest and trouble 
 in the matter. His opinion is, tirst, that the beaver which 
 escaped on to the moors is dead, as no new traces of 
 work appear; second, that the two French beavers were 
 too much domesticated, and accustomed to be fed, parti- 
 cularly with special food, such as bread, corn, willow bark, 
 &e., to be able to shift for themselves in a wild state; and 
 third, that if the American (and wilder) ones had not es- 
 caped, they would have lived; and that, with attention to 
 these points, one need not despair yet.’ _ 
 
 The third beaver, which I was so sorry to find on my 
 dissecting-table, measured three feet three inches, and 
 weighed twenty-two pounds and a half. There were no- 
 marks whatever of external injury. On taking off the 
 skin I found there was little or no fat, and that the 
 animal was very much out of condition ; there was no food 
 in the stomach, but a quantity of gnawed vegetable matter 
 in the intestines. Knowing that the Marquis would be 
 anxious to have as much information as possible on the 
 
 
 

 
 LORD BUTE’S BEAVERS. 279 
 
 cause of the poor beast’s death, Mr. Bartlett came down 
 to give his opinion. He considered, as we could find no 
 post-mortem appearances, except slight inflammation of 
 the lungs, not sufficient to account for death, that it was 
 possible that something had been wrong with the food 
 on which the beaver had been living. He feeds his own 
 beavers at the Zoological upon boughs of poplar and 
 willow, of both of which they are very fond. He also 
 gives them carrots, biscuits, and Indian corn. 
 
 The loss of these valuable animals was unfortunate, 
 their usual price being between seventy and eighty pounds 
 per pair. 
 
 In January 1875 Lord Bute obtained eight more 
 beavers through Mr. Jamrach. These eight beavers were 
 originally captured in North America, and were then sent 
 to Germany, where they were kept for three months in 
 a stable. Mr. Bartlett inspected the beavers with me 
 before their purchase, and we were satisfied they were 
 in good condition. As, however, the boxes in which they 
 were confined were very dilapidated through long travel, 
 and the weather excessively cold, we determined to give 
 them a rest, and allow them to have a good sleep and a 
 wash before sending them on to Scotland. Mr. Bartlett, 
 therefore, offered to take them in at the Gardens, and 
 turned them out into two beautiful dens close by the 
 wombats, just behind the kangaroo sheds. Having given 
 them a few days’ rest, I inspected them again. The 
 keeper turned them carefully out from their warm bed 
 of straw, at which they seemed exceedingly indignant. 
 The biggest of them, a very fine animal, sat up on his 
 haunches, and made a curious noise, something between 
 
‘ 
 
 280 LORD BUTE’S BEAVERS. 
 
 a grunt and a growl. All of them slapped their tails 
 violently on the brick pavement, giving a sharp crack. 
 This probably is a warning signal in time of danger. 
 
 It is difficult, if not impossible, to ascertain the sexes — 
 of these animals. There were, however, two big ones, five 
 of a moderate size, and one very little one. They were all 
 sent to the Isle of Bute, via Glasgow. We advised that 
 a kind of pigsty should be made for them, in which a 
 warm nest of straw should be placed, and that they should 
 then be allowed to gnaw themselves out. If they could 
 find a better place to build their own nest in the open, 
 they would do so; if not, they would come back to sleep 
 in the nest which had been made for them. Thus they 
 would gradually be able to make themselves comfortable in 
 their new home. Their food should consist of Indian corn, 
 carrots, biscuits, and more especially willow boughs, of 
 which they are exceedingly fond, and without which they 
 will hardly thrive. 
 
 About the same time Lord Bute sent me the following 
 interesting and welcome intelligence:—‘ A very unex- 
 pected episode has taken place here with the beavers. 
 You remember that two of the original four escaped to the 
 moors, and though the body of only one of them was found, — 
 both were believed to have died. But itis not so. The 
 other animal has turned up in a large pond surrounded 
 with trees, close to a farm about one and a half or two 
 miles from where he had last been seen. His labours are 
 quite gigantic considering his size and his being alone. He 
 
 has felled a poplar with a girth of between three and four | 4 
 
 feet, and is taking it piecemeal to his head-quarters in a 
 
 swamp at the other end of the pond, where are already q 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 LORD BUTE’S BEAVERS. 281 
 
 collected many large branches, almost logs. He seems to 
 feed eagerly upon the water-plants in the pond, which is 
 large, and altogether well adapted for his residence. The 
 whole thing is very curious, as showing that the creature 
 is able to live and flourish in a perfectly wild state in this 
 country.’ 
 
 Companions were afterwards found for the solitary 
 beaver. 
 
 In September 1877 I was fortunate enough to have 
 the opportunity of examining Lord Bute’s beavers in the 
 beautiful home he had prepared for them. H.ML.S. 
 ‘Jackal’ in her cruise anchored at Rothesay, and the 
 morning after our arrival, Captain Digby, the officers of 
 the ‘Jackal,’ my colleagues and myself, chartered a 
 carriage to pay a visit to the beavers. 
 
 -At some little distance from Mount Stewart House 
 there is a lonely pine-wood. Through part of this wood 
 runs a naturalstream. In the centre of the wood a stone 
 wall has been built, in such a manner as to keep the 
 beavers perfectly quiet and undisturbed. 
 
 As far as could be ascertained by the curator of the 
 beavery, there were twelve beavers. There were certainly 
 one or more young ones in the big house which these 
 most intelligent animals had erected. These when born 
 are about as large as rats; and from their size and other 
 observations the curator thinks that beavers have two 
 litters of cubs in the year. 
 
 On entering the enclosure one might easily imagine 
 that a gang of regular woodcutters had been at work 
 felling the trees all around them. Woodcutters had in- 
 deed been at work very busily, but they were not biped 
 
282 LORD BUTE’S BEAVERS. 
 
 labouring men working with sharp axes, but fur-clad 1 
 
 quadrupeds, armed by nature with one sharp, 
 powerful teeth. 
 
 The original stream, which flows gently down a slight 
 incline, is now divided out into one larger and two smaller 
 ponds, by means of dams or weirs, which the beavers have 
 built directly across the run of the water. } 
 
 It is difficult, if not impossible, to see these wonderful 
 dam-makers at work, as they generally, I hear, are out at 
 night, and are very shy beasts. From the structure they 
 have made, it is evident that they work with a design, 
 I may even say with adefinite plan. The trees have been 
 cut down in such a manner that they shall fall in the 
 position in which the beaver thinks they would be of the 
 greatest service to the general structure, generally right 
 across the stream. The cunning fellows seem to have 
 found out that the lowest dam across the river would re- 
 ceive the greatest pressure of water upon it. This dam, 
 therefore, is made by far the strongest. They seem to 
 have packed, repaired, and continually attended to the 
 tender places which the stream might make in their 
 engineering work. | 
 
 A fact still more curious—the custodian of the beavers 
 pointed out to us a portion of the work where the dam 
 was strutted up and supported by the branches of trees 
 extending from the bed of the stream below to the 
 sides of the dam—forming, in fact, as good supports 
 to the general structure as any engineer could have 
 devised. 
 
 The beavers’ hut, made by themselves, looks like a 
 heap of sticks or waste firewood, and presents nothing 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 LORD BUTE’S BEAVERS. 283 
 
 _ to attract much attention. Of course I could not disturb 
 it, but it appeared to be composed of tree boughs and 
 barked sticks. In ‘Land and Water,’ March 28, 1868, 
 a drawing is given of the ‘beaver’s home,’ as seen by a 
 correspondent who had an opportunity of taking a beaver’s 
 house to pieces; here is his report. ‘The beaver’s home 
 looks like a huge bird’s-nest turned upside down, and is 
 generally located in the grassy coves of lakes, by the edge 
 of still-water rivers or artificial ponds, and less frequently 
 by a river side, where a bend or jutting rocks afford a 
 deep eddying pool near the bank. The house rests on the 
 bank, but always overlaps the water in which the front 
 part is immersed, and, as a general rule, the bottom of 
 the stream. or lake is deepened in the channel approaching 
 the entrance by dredging, thereby assuring a free passage 
 below the ice.’ 
 
 He then described the architectural design of the 
 beavers’ house. It was a large house, nearly eighteen 
 feet in diameter at the water line, and nearly five feet 
 in height. ‘On the outside the sticks were thrown 
 somewhat loosely, but as we unpiled them, and examined 
 the structure more closely, the work appeared better, the 
 boughs laid more horizontally, and firmly bound in with 
 mud and grass. About two feet from the top we unroofed 
 the chamber, and presently disclosed the interior arrange- 
 ments. The chamber—there was but one—was very low, 
 scarcely two feet in height, though about nine feet in 
 diameter. It had a gentle slope upwards from the water, 
 the margin of which could be just seen at the edge. 
 There were two levels inside—one, which we shall term 
 the hall, a sloping mud bank, on which the animal 
 
- x * * 
 ¥ ‘ é - » 5 a.” 
 * X\ 
 
 284 LORD BUTE'S BEAVERS. 
 
 emerges from the subaqueous tunnel and shakes himself ; 
 ~ and the other, an elevated bed of boughs ranged round 
 the back of the chamber, and much in the style of a 
 
 guard-bed, 7.e., the sloping wooden trestle usually found 
 in a military guard-room. The couch was comfortably 
 
 covered with lengths of dried grass and rasped fibres of 
 wood, similar to the shavings of a toy broom. The ends 
 of the timbers and brushwood, which projected inwards, 
 were smoothly gnawed off all round. There were two 
 entrances ; the one led into the water at the edge of the 
 chamber, and let in the light; the other went down at a 
 deeper angle into the black water. The former was evi- 
 dently the summer entrance, the latter being used in 
 winter to avoid the ice. The interior was perfectly clean, 
 no barked sticks (the refuse of the food) being left about. 
 These were all distributed on the exterior, which accounts 
 for the bleached appearance of many houses we have seen. 
 In turning over the materials of the house I picked up 
 several pieces of wood of but two or three inches in length, 
 which, from their shortness, puzzled me as to the reason 
 of so much trouble being taken by the beaver for appa- 
 rently so small a purpose. My Indian, however, en- 
 lightened me. The side on whicha young tree is intended 
 to fall is first cut through—say two-thirds—then the other 
 side one-third a little higher up. The tree slips off the 
 stem, but will not fall prostrate, owing to the intervention 
 of branches of adjacent trees. So the beaver has to gnaw a 
 little above to start it again, exactly on the plan adopted 
 by the lumberman in case of a catch amongst the 
 upper branches, when the impetus of another slip dis- 
 engages the whole tree. The ovcupants of the house were 
 
 ws 
 
 
 

 
 LORD BUTE’S BEAVERS. 285 
 
 out for the day, as they Panerai are Pen the 
 summer, being engaged in travelling up and down the 
 brooks, and collecting provisions for the winter consump- 
 tion.’ | 
 
 Mr. Bartlett and I closely examined the markings of the 
 beavers’ chisel-like teeth on the trees which they had cut 
 down. These trees were oak, larch, pine, birch, and willow. 
 The young ones, judging from the markings of their teeth, 
 ‘arenot such good workmenas their parents, and one would al- 
 most imagine that it was necessary for them to go through 
 some sort of education in cutting down trees. It is very 
 interesting to observe how the beaver goes to work to cut 
 down a tree. Attacking one side, he cuts, by means of 
 his sharp chisel, a regular notch in the tree. One side of 
 this notch is flat, like a saw cut; the other side is brought 
 down to the saw cut by an angle; in fact, he cuts down the 
 trees by the same sort of incision as we ourselves employ 
 to cut a stick out of the hedge. Mr. Bartlett informs me 
 that he has seen the beaver put his head so far into the 
 notch that he was afraid the weight of the tree from above 
 would crush down upon him and smash his head; but Mr. 
 Beaver is a better carpenter than this. Mr. Bartlett has 
 seen him at this stage of the proceedings come out and go 
 toa little distance, sit on his hind legs, and inspect the tree 
 with the air of an engineer looking at a scaffold in process 
 of construction. When the beaver has gnawed his notch 
 as deep as he dare into the tree, the cunning fellow will test 
 its stability by standing on his hind legs and pushing the 
 tree, to see the degree of firmness of the portion which holds 
 the two pieces of wood together ; but how is he to separate 
 this bit which unites the wood? He simply leaves off 
 
286 - LORD BUTE’S BEAVERS. 
 
 gnawing the big notch he has made. He then goes to 
 the other side, where the bark and wood have not been 
 touched at all, and gnaws away until down comes the 
 tree. | 
 The beavers are most industrious little animals. These 
 water carpenters have converted the place into a regular 
 subterranean city, for they have burrowed out the earth in 
 such a manner as to form streets, galleries, highways, and 
 by-ways. These runs, I imagine, are made primarily for 
 the purposes of safety, and secondly that the homes or dams 
 may be connected together, so that the families living 
 in the different huts may be able at will to visit their 
 friends. ) 
 
 These animals were at one time very common in North 
 Wales. There is a valley running up from Bangor towards 
 Snowdon, called Beaver’s Hollow (Nant yr Afangewm). 
 The more modern name is Nant Frangon ; the river Ogwen 
 runs through the vale. There are several Llyn yr Afanges 
 (Beavers’ Pools) in different parts of the country; and 
 Giraldus Cambrensis, who wrote in 1188, says that beavers 
 were found in considerable numbers near one of the Car- 
 diganshire rivers. Hywel Dda made a law fixing the 
 price of the. Llost lydan’s, or broad-tailed animal’s skin, 
 at 120 pence, a high sum for those days, but we must 
 recollect that the skin of the beaver was one of the chief 
 articles of finery and luxury in dress that the Welsh then 
 possessed. 
 
 Mr. Kinahan, of the Geological Survey of Ireland, 
 wrote me thus :— 
 
 ‘Some Irish lake-basins may possibly have been formed 
 by beavers’ dams. This suggestion, however, is merely con- ~ 
 
 
 

 
 LORD BUTE’S BEAVERS. 287 
 
 jectural, and prompted by the form of some of the lake- 
 basins. Against it is the fact that although the beaver is 
 known to have been an inhabitant of Wales during the 
 historical period, yet we have been unable to find in the 
 Trish annals any record of its existence. . . . There does 
 not appear to be any real native Irish word for beavers. 
 In O’Keelly’s dictionary we find “ Dobhran-leasleathan, a 
 beaver,” but he seems to have taken this from the Scotch- 
 Gaelic, as no mention of beaver is known in any Irish MS. 
 Dobhran means water-animal, and leasleathan broad-tailed. 
 The Welsh for beaver is similar, namely llostlydan, broad- 
 tail.’ 
 
 As regards the existence of beavers on the Continent, 
 my late learned friend Signor Valetta informed me that 
 Dante (who died 1321) mentioned beavers as then existing 
 in the Danube. He called them bevero, and implied that 
 they eat fish. The Italian name is now castero. Signor 
 Valetta wrote me thus :— 
 
 ‘Dante mentions the beaver in Canto xvii. of ‘ Inferno,’ 
 as a comparison with the assumed posture of Geryon 
 (a monster represented by mythologists as having three 
 bodies and three heads), on the precipitous bank of the 
 infernal abyss. Dante and Virgil have arrived on the 
 border of a dismal unfathomable chasm which falls 
 straight to the Well of Giants, and hence to the centre of 
 the earth. As the bank is steep, and there is no practi- 
 cable descent, and descend they must, Virgil bids the 
 poet ungird himself of a rope which tied his waist, and 
 give it to him. This rope was symbolical of penance, 
 humiliation, and repentance, being the rope worn by 
 the Franciscans, to whose society it seems the poet was 
 
288 
 
 * LORD BUTE’S BEAVERS. Sor ; 
 
 
 
 affiliated. Virgil throws the rope down the abyss, and a 
 at this bidding the monster comes up to carry them down, 4 
 and waiting for them places his claws on the bank, and — 
 swings with the hinder coil in the air. Here comes the — 
 
 comparison :— 
 
 Come tal volta stanno a riva i burchi, 
 Che parte sono in acqua, e parte in terra ; 
 E come la tra li Tedeschi lurchi 
 
 Lo bevero s’assetta a far sua guerra ; 
 
 Cosi la fiera pessima si stava 
 
 Su Vorlo, che, di pietra, il sabbion serra. 
 
 which may be thus translated :— 
 
 ‘« As sometimes boats are so placed as to stand part 
 in the water and part on shore, and as there amongst the © 
 glutton Germans the beaver sits down to wage its war, in 
 the same way sat Geryon.”’ 
 
 Then Mr. Valetta says that the commentator on Dante, 
 Brunone Bianchi, affirms ‘that the beaver sits down 
 to wage his war against fishes,’ and all other commen- 
 tators follow in his track, from which it is evident that 
 the commentators aforesaid, although doubtless very 
 learned classical scholars, were certainly not naturalists. 
 The beaver is not a fish-eater, never was, and never will 
 be. He is a typical rodent or gnawing animal ; his incisor 
 teeth are formed like chisels to cut down boughs; his 
 molar teeth to eat vegetable substances only. Itis about 
 as sensible a thing to say a beaver eats fish as to describe _ 
 a rabbit or a guinea-pig eating fish. Dante himself, when 3 
 he had finished this line, was evidently puzzled to write 
 what the beaver was waging war against, and showed 
 

 
 LORD BUTE'S BEAVERS. 289 
 
 his discrimination in not affirming a fact of which he 
 was not cognisant. This mistake about the beavers 
 eating fish has been lying dormant for about six hun- 
 dred years, and it is pretty nearly time that the mistake 
 should be rectified. 
 
290 
 
 REMARKABLE ACCIDENT TO A RED DEER IN 
 WINDSOR PARK. 
 
 His Royal Highness Prince Christian has been kind enough 
 to allow me to place on record an event which I believe to 
 be unique in the annals of forestry, viz. a curious cata- 
 strophe to one of the red deer of Windsor Park, which will 
 be of the highest interest to all owners of deer parks, 
 whether at home or abroad, to the proprietors and lessees 
 of Highland shootings, to naturalists, and the public in 
 general. 
 
 It may be remembered that in January 1879 we had 
 some very severe weather, with snow and frost. On 
 January 16, one of the keepers who has charge of her 
 Majesty’s deer in the royal domains, was going his rounds, 
 when, to his great amazement, he suddenly came upon the 
 scene represented in Fig, 2, namely, a magnificent red 
 deer lying on his back, with his leg tightly fixed in the 
 forked branch of a whitethorn tree. This unfortunate 
 animal presented the following appearance:—He was 
 lying on his near or left side, the tip of his right 
 shoulder was supported against the trunk of the tree. 
 The chest and fore-part of his body were clear of the ground, 
 suspended by his right or off-foot, between the fork of the 
 tree. A closer examination showed exactly what we see 
 
 
 

 
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292 REMARKABLE ACCIDENT TO A - 
 
 in Fig. 3, except that the body of the animal is (in the 
 engraving) no longer attached to the foot. The keeper 
 attempted to remove the foot, but found it so tightly — 
 fixed that with all his force he was quite unable to do so. 
 The appearance of the stag’s foot was as follows:—The — 
 shank bone was fractured and splintered diagonally. The 
 fractured bones had made their exit by acut right through 
 the skin, thus causing a compound comminuted fracture. 
 The portion of the bone below this fracture—tough and 
 strong as the red deer’s shanks are—was shattered into 
 minute fragments the size of dice, The bone was again 
 fractured at its lower part, and the thick skin entirely — 
 lacerated through. The large sinews at the back of the 
 bone, as well as the wire-like sinews that work the toes of 
 the foot, were elongated and pulled out, and in fact 
 everything was broken right off except two very slender 
 sinews and a small portion of the skin. The total length 
 of the portion of the deer’s leg caught in the tree was seven- 
 teen inches; from the fracture to where it was torn off, 
 eight inches. The leg was caught by the branches of the 
 tree about four feet from the ground, and the lowest boughs 
 carrying leaves were about nine feet from the ground. 
 The deer was dead, and it is not known how long he had 
 been held a prisoner by his foot. 
 
 As there were no eye-witnesses of the occurrence, it 
 becomes somewhat difficult to account for this extraordinary 
 event. It is probable, however, that in consequence of 
 the weather the animal was short uf food, and that in his 
 wanderings he had observed above his head something 
 edible on the lower branches of the thorn tree, perhaps 
 leaves, moss, or lichens, on which deer feed in snowy 
 

 
 RED DEER IN WINDSOR PARK. 2uD 
 
 weather ; or possibly some ivy, of which deer are very fond. 
 There was some ivy on the tree about nine feet from the 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 FIG. 3.—FORE-LEG OF THE STAG CAUGHT BY FORKED BRANCHES 
 OF A THORN TREE. 
 
 ground, and the forked branch which caught the deer’s 
 leg was four feet from the ground, so that he could not 
 
 
 
294 REMARKABLE ACCIDENT TO A 
 
 reach the leaves when standing onall-fours. He therefore 
 probably raised himself upon his hind legs, and when 
 stretuhing himself upwards and forwards, the hoofs of his 
 hind legs slipped from under him ; or else, when letting 
 himself down again, his right fore-leg slipped suddenly be- 
 tween the forked branches of the tree, and was instantly held 
 there tight. (See again Fig. 3.) The animal then probably 
 began immediately to struggle, but the more he kicked and 
 fought the tighter the wrist of his foot got wedged in; in 
 fact, when the preparation was brought to me the foot was 
 so tightly fixed into the notch of the tree that it could not 
 have been more jammed if it had been hammered down, 
 and then a long screw passed right through it. 
 
 In his struggles to get loose (he was a fine, heavy stag, 
 carrying antlers with thirteen points) the first thing that 
 happened was the fracture of the leg-bone. This allowed 
 the animal to fall on his back, from which position, of 
 course, he could not rise. Terribly alarmed at what had 
 happened to him, the poor stag then began to pull and 
 tug at his captive leg, assisting himself to do so by means 
 of his horns. In his frantic exertions to get free the stag 
 a second time broke his leg, then the skin gave way, and 
 lastly the large tendons. If his strength had lasted long 
 enough to have ruptured the two small tendons it is pos- 
 sible that he might have escaped, leaving his leg in the 
 fork of the tree. The head of the poor beast was a little 
 further round the tree than represented in the drawing, so 
 that it would seem the unfortunate creature had tried to 
 use the butt of the tree as a lever to wrench off the frac- 
 tured part of his leg, and so escape with his life. He did 
 not, unfortunately, succeed in the attempt. 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 RED DEER IN WINDSOR PARK. 295 
 
 His Royal Highness, having been informed of the acci- 
 dent, judiciously ordered the portion of the tree which 
 held the foot to be sawn off bodily. He then kindly sent 
 the whole thing to me, with the request that the foot 
 should be preserved for him without being removed from 
 the fork in which it had been so tightly jammed by the 
 animal itself. ¢ 
 
 This being a very difficult problem in the art of taxi- 
 dermy, I first of all had a drawing made of it by Mr. 
 Berjeau, and then sent for Mr. Keilich, whose name is 
 well known as a talented stuffer of deer’s heads, lions, 
 tigers, and, in fact, all the larger animals. By a most 
 ingenious plan Mr. Keilich managed to prepare the stag’s 
 foot, keeping it exactly in the position in which it was 
 found ; it was then set up in a case and was forwarded to 
 his Royal Highness at Cumberland Lodge, Windsor Park, 
 as a unique specimen. 
 
 I have been unable either by search or by questioning 
 to find any record whatever of a similar accident having 
 been known to occur toa red deer, or in fact any other 
 kind of deer. The nearest approach to it is the case of 
 ‘locked horns, which are not so very uncommon. Red 
 deer in the fall of the year, as we know, are great fighters, 
 and at that time their horns are more or less elastic. 
 When the deer are fencing at each other the branches of the 
 antlers are apt to slip and get fast knotted, as it were. In 
 1866 I examined a very fine pair of locked horns of the 
 common American deer at Mr. Leadbeater’s establishment, 
 then in Brewer Street. In the Royal College of Surgeons 
 there are a pair of locked horns of the Canadian elk, 
 found just as they are, the wolves having eaten up the elks 
 
296 REMARKABLE ACCIDENT TO A 
 
 themselves. An instance of locked horns occurred at Up 
 Park, Petersfield, in 1866, when two deer were found with 
 their brow-antlers forcibly wedged together, hooking on 
 as tight as steel springs. The keeper was sent for, and 
 one of the hooked brow-antlers was sawn off, and the deer 
 liberated. There is a preparation of this kind of locked 
 horns in the new museum of the University of Oxford, and 
 similar cases are not unknown to deer-stalkers and foresters 
 in Scotland. If I recollect rightly, the late Lord of Lovat 
 had a fine specimen in his collection. 
 
 I have received several notes from correspondents on 
 the above curious accident. One writes :— 
 
 ‘I am sure many others have seen, as I have done, a 
 fallow buck jumping a considerable height up into the 
 boughs of a whitethorn bush, and tossing his antlers about 
 among them, thereby bringing to the ground a lot of 
 haws, on which he makes a pleasant repast; it seems 
 almost certain that the poor stag was going through the 
 same performance, and as he could jump higher than the 
 fallow buck, his leg might be caught in his descent, 
 without much blame to his sagacity or to the activity of 
 his nature.’ 
 
 Another tells me of a somewhat similar accident to a 
 dingo at a station in Port Phillip, Australia, One of the 
 shepherds killed a kangaroo at some distance from his hut, 
 and to secure the carcass deposited it across the boughs 
 of a gum tree, some six or seven feet from the ground. 
 ‘From the base of this tree, and at a slight angle from the 
 trunk, a good stiff sapling had sprung up. On visiting 
 the spot the next day the shepherd was surprised to find 
 ‘a wild dog jammed between the sapling and the tree, and 
 

 
 - RED DEER IN WINDSOR PARK. 297 
 
 quite dead. It had evidently made a spring for the dead 
 kangaroo, missed its aim, and slipped into the angle, the 
 elasticity of the sapling holding it tightly by the middle. 
 Neither of its feet touched the ground, but the bark of 
 both tree and sapling had been gnawed away in every 
 direction within reach of its ugly tusks. 
 
 I have also been told of a curious accident to a pony 
 in apark. In attempting to leap a wire fence, its foot 
 became fixed between the upper and second wires, causing 
 it to turn a complete somersault. Its neck was quite 
 doubled, and death ensued in a few minutes, either from 
 suffocation or a broken neck. 
 
 A strange accident happened to old Fanny, the fishing 
 mare (mentioned in a previous article), when she was a 
 three-year-old. In the field where she then was, two trees 
 grew very close to each other. She got her head. fast 
 between them about eight feet from the ground, and was 
 very nearly strangled before she was got out; the blocks 
 from the mill had to be fetched to hoist her out bodily. 
 She was fast for about an hour, the field being half a mile 
 from the mill. Noone saw how she got fast, but it was sup- 
 posed she had been trying to reach the leaves, or playing. 
 
 A somewhat similar accident not unfrequently happens 
 tobirds. Blackbirds and thrushes are sometimes found 
 caught by the head in the forks of bramble bushes, the 
 accident having occurred when the birds were fighting. 
 At the Surrey Gardens a fine ostrich was once killed in 
 the following curious way :—The bird got his head into 
 the space between two wooden oak palings ; finding himself 
 entangled, he gave a sudden kick, the effect of which was 
 to pull his head right off, 
 
298 REMARKABLE ACCIDENT TO A RED DEER. 
 
 No man would have sympathised with me more in the 
 examination of this singular accident to a royal stag 
 than my late friend John Keast Lord, F.Z.S., Naturalist 
 to the British North American Boundary Commission, 
 who wrote one of the best books in the English language 
 on the art of travel, namely, ‘ At Home in the Wilderness ’ 
 (Hardwicke, 1867). Lord had twenty years’ experience as 
 trapper, hunter, and naturalist, east and west of the Rocky 
 Mountains. He tells a terrible story of a lumberer or 
 woodcutter having been caught by the foot in a tree which 
 he was splitting with wedges. The lumberer was standing 
 on the log driving in wooden and iron wedges with his 
 ponderous mallet. 
 
 Lord writes :—‘ Soon a yawning crack opened along the 
 log, and in a brief space it would have been in two, but by 
 some mischance the man slipped, the wedge sprung instantly, 
 
 and allowed the crack to close upon his foot. Having tried 
 
 every means available to free himself, but in vain—shout- 
 ing he knew to be useless, as there was no one within hail, 
 and night was coming on, and he was well aware that the 
 bitter cold of a northern winter must end his life long 
 before any help could be reasonably anticipated—in his 
 agony of mind and intensity of bodily suffering, with mad 
 despair the poor fellow seized the axe, and ata single chop 
 severed his leg from the imprisoned foot.’ He managed 
 to crawl home, but unfortunately the accident proved fatal, 
 as in the case of the deer. 
 
 r % 
 

 
 299 
 
 LECOMPTE, THE SEALS’ FRIEND, 
 
 Francois LEcompTE, the late ‘keeper of the seals’ at the 
 Zoological Gardens, was quite a noted character in his 
 way. My first introduction to Lecompte was at Cremorne 
 Gardens in 1866, where he had been engaged to 
 exhibit a sea-bear which he had captured in South 
 America, : 
 
 The district along the east coast of South America, 
 especially the coast of Patagonia, seems to be the head- 
 quarters of the seal family, many of these being of gigantic 
 size. 
 
 The following is the history of the capture of this cele- 
 brated seal, and of Lecompte’s début as tamer of sea- 
 bears and sea-lions :— 
 
 In 1862 some French sailors, wandering about the 
 desolate and bleak shores near Cape Horn, came across the 
 seal, or sea-bear, whose portrait I now give. After a 
 great deal of manceuvring, one of the men, Lecompte, 
 managed to get behind the seal, and catch hold of his 
 hind flippers. The seal, of course, tried to turn and bite ; 
 but his captor, by turning to the right or to the left, kept 
 out of the way of his teeth. 
 
 When the beast was a bit tired, the other sailors 
 managed to get a stick into his mouth, and to tie it tight 
 

 
 Lara os, Te % 
 
 ‘SNACUVYN IVOIDOTIOOZ AHL LV ‘SVEd-VES AHLI—'P ‘DL 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
LECOMPTE, THE SEALS’ FRIEND, 301 
 
 behind his head, so as to gag him. They then bound 
 him up tightly with ropes, and slinging him between two 
 oars, Lecompte and the sailors carried him to their ship, 
 and then to Buenos Ayres. Lecompte conceived the idea 
 of taming his captive, and for two whole years devoted 
 himself entirely to this object, in which he at last perfectly 
 succeeded, not, however, without great difficulty, for he 
 bore to his grave marks of the seal’s teeth on almost 
 every limb, and his right hand was quite crippled by a 
 bite, in which the seal almost severed the muscles of the 
 fore-arm ; in fact, the wound was so severe that the South 
 American doctors, wanted to amputate his hand alto- 
 gether. 
 
 Notwithstanding the ferocity of his pet, Lecompte 
 cultivated his intelligence, and the creature soon performed 
 tricks which Lecompte, with true nationality, worked up 
 into a little military episode. The sea-bear volunteered 
 to goas a soldier to Mexico. He then passed through the 
 forms of enlistment and drill, and finally fired a cannon. 
 The sea-bear was exhibited in Belgium before he went to 
 Cremorne. His dinner consisted of twenty-five pounds 
 weight of fish daily. His habit was to sleep all night, and 
 during the day when his master was not with him. He 
 awoke at the slightest noise. He did not object to visitors, 
 but was annoyed with ladies wearing white ribbons. 
 
 Lecompte was next. engaged bya travelling menagerie. 
 The affair did not pay, so they turned out Lecompte 
 and his sea-bear into a field by the road-side. Here 
 he was discovered by Mr. Bartlett, who purchased his 
 sea~bear for the society, while he himself was made the 
 keeper. 
 
302 ' LECOMPTE, THE SEALS’ FRIEND. 
 
 _ When the sea-bear died, Lecompte was sent to the 
 Falkland Islands, and he returned with another in August 
 1868. This was a female captured by Lecompte him- 
 self. 
 
  Tecompte’s great. triumph was his taming the sea- 
 bear. The pas de deux with Lecompte and the sea~ 
 bear, which took place on the chair in the middle of the 
 pond at the end of the platform, is well known to the 
 public, and the photographs of these performances will now 
 become historical. 
 
 If ever there was affection between animals and men, 
 it was the mutual love that existed between the seals at 
 the Gardens and Lecompte; nor do I think it was en- 
 tirely cupboard love, though undoubtedly the basket of 
 fish more or less influenced their ideas. He had names 
 
 for his seals at the Gardens, and the seals knew their 
 
 names—at least, Kate and Fanny did. 
 
 Lecompte was most careful about fish-hooks; the 
 fishermen who catch whiting, haddocks, &c., often cut off 
 the snood and leave the hook in the fish, and unless he 
 opened the fish to remove the hook, the seals would 
 swallow hook and all, and would be nearly sure to die 
 when the fish was digested, and the hook remained in 
 the stomach. 
 
 Lecompte’s abode was in a little house by the zebras. 
 I frequently had lunch with him. He was a splendid 
 cook. He once gave me a portion of a most savoury 
 pie, which he assured me was a spécialité. It was very 
 good, and I ate it; but when I came to know what the 
 spécialité was, I vowed I never would lunch with Le- 
 compte again without seeing the menu first. 
 
 
 
 Pee 
 
FRE OTRAS OF 
 
 
 
 
 
 LECOMPTE, THE SEALS’ FRIEND. 303 
 
 He took the greatest care of the little baby bladder- 
 
 - nose seals, and also of the larger specimens of the bladder- 
 
 nose which Captain Gray caught and presented to the 
 Society. | 
 
 In May 18731 received a message that two seals had 
 arrived from Dundee for the Brighton Aquarium. I sent 
 for Mr. Lawler from Brighton, and we both went to the 
 docks to meet them. Wecalled at Jamrach’s on the road, 
 to ask him to lend usa den to put them in. We found 
 the seals on board the steamship ‘Anglia’ in the docks 
 
 used by the Dundee ships. They were simply on deck, 
 
 and only kept from going about the deck by two boards. 
 They were pretty little things, very fat and chubby, pro- 
 bably about six weeks old. They had been caught in the 
 Arctic regions, and brought to Dundee by Captain Gre- 
 ville, of the ship ‘Camperdown:’ there they were then 
 transferred to the ‘ Anglia,’ and brought to London. We 
 
 _ put them into a box, having cut holes in the top, and took 
 
 them on a cab to London Bridge. I stopped at Billings- 
 gate and bought 20 lbs. of live eels for them. They 
 arrived at Brighton quite safely, and soon got accustomed 
 to their new home; but there was some difficulty at first 
 about their food, as they would not eat the eels or any- 
 thing else. Mr. Bartlett, however, with his usual readi- 
 ness, suggested a mode of feeding them which eventually 
 proved a success. 
 
 I had scarcely got these seals all right at Brighton, 
 when I received a telegram from Captain Gray that he 
 had caught a young bladder-nose seal for me, and that 
 it would arrive in London at nine o’clock the next 
 morning. Punctual to the time the van arrived from the 
 
304 LECOMPTE, THE SEALS’ FRIEND, 
 
 railway. I found the little animal was in a kind of crate, 
 evidently put together by a ship’s carpenter. 
 
 The seal looked very seedy, tired, and cold, so I took 
 him upstairs and put him before the fire, covered him over, 
 and let him have a sleep for two hours. He would not, 
 however, eat nor drink, although I tried him with live eels, 
 milk, and water. 
 
 In the course of the day Mr. Bartlett called, and 
 offered to take charge of him; soI sent him up to the 
 Gardens, where he was placed under the care of Le- 
 compte. Finding he would not eat, Lecompte caught 
 him by the flippers and attempted to get a portion of 
 eel down his throat, but did not succeed. While Le- 
 compte was holding him he made a terrible noise, some- 
 thing between the cry of a child and the growling of a 
 dog. 
 
 He was only a baby, I should say about six weeks old; 
 the teeth were not very large, but rather formidable; the 
 eyes, which were black, were deeply sunk into the head; the 
 bladder on the top of his nose was just visible ; his colour 
 was a yellowish buff. He stayed a very long time under 
 water, though so young; and when he brought his head to 
 the surface of the water his countenance was very human, 
 not unlike the face of a chubby-faced baby; and I can easily 
 understand the origin of the story that seals were once 
 human beings, namely, the Egyptians that were drowned 
 in the Red Sea, and who were for further punishment 
 converted into seals. 
 
 The last long interview I had with Lecompte was 
 when the sea-lions for the Brighton Aquarium arrived at 
 Deptford, in October 1875. Lecompte assisted to pack 
 

 
 LECOMPTE, THE SEALS’ FRIEND. 305 
 
 the seals at London Bridge Station. It was very in- 
 teresting to hear Lecompte talk to the animals. They 
 were very frightened and very travel-worn. ‘ Vous ne 
 connaissez pas encore votre papa, mon petit. Restez tran- 
 quil, mon cher. Vous avez faim? Je vous donnerai un 
 poisson, voila.’ Lecompte on this occasion did not look a 
 bit like Lecompte. Whenon duty inthe Gardens, he was 
 generally dressed in a blue serge sailor’s dress. When he 
 went with us to Brighton he had got himself up quite a 
 swell; his handsome face and white beard made him look 
 quite a gentleman, which he really was by nature. He 
 was one of the best ‘talkers I ever knew; he would say 
 the commonest things in the most funny manner, During 
 the journey down the sea-lions cried nearly the whole way, 
 and Lecompte tried to pacify them by paternal exhortations 
 in French: ‘Ah! vous criez aprés votre papa, mes chers 
 phoces.’ Lecompte remained two or three days at the 
 Brighton Aquarium, in order to reconcile the seals to 
 their new home, where they long flourished. The sea- 
 lions of the species exhibited at Brighton inhabit islands 
 off the coast of San Francisco; their characteristic form is 
 shown in the engraving on the next page. 
 
 Lecompte originally was a French man-o’-war’s-man. 
 He gained, by his welcome ‘ Bon jour, Monsieur,’ and his 
 polite conduct, the respect of all visitors to the Gardens. 
 His loss was greatly felt, not only by ‘mes pauvres bétes,’ 
 but also by the public in general. So anxious was he 
 for the welfare of his seals, that he requested when 
 very ill to be taken to see them once more. During his 
 illness he received his full pay, and was attended by the 
 first medical men in London. Peace to the memory of 
 
 Mm 
 
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 ———— S 
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 ere a= 
 
 —_—> 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Se i il a 
 
 
 
 
 
 LECOMPTE, THE SEALS’ FRIEND. 307 
 
 this faithful servant and sincere friend of dumb animals— 
 dumb in the ordinary sense of the word to most people, 
 but possessing a voice and language well understood by 
 their much-lamented master, Fran¢ois Lecompte. 
 
 I received from the Rev. Mr. Lory, of the Falkland 
 Islands, the skull of a large sea-lion, now in my Museum. 
 It weighs eleven pounds, and measures from nose to the 
 end of the skull fifteen inches: it has evidently been ex- 
 posed to the action of the weather for a considerable time 
 —may be for many years. The skin remains over the 
 anterior half of the skull; the rest of the bone is bleached 
 by the weather. The teeth are exceedingly beautiful, 
 the largest being larger than the canine teeth of a lion, 
 only not so pointed. Mr. Lory wrote me thus :—‘ The 
 sea-lion’s head I have sent to you for your Museum 
 is from Port Stephens, in the West Falkland Islands. 
 The sea-lion is one of the hair seals (the male); his mane 
 is thick and bushy, and his roar terrific. He measures 
 from twelve feet to thirteen feet in length, and sometimes 
 more. During the breeding season he is exceedingly 
 fierce, and will attack a man; at other times he avoids 
 him. A parishioner of mine named White had his thigh 
 severely lacerated by one. The wound bled profusely, but 
 from good attention he recovered, only to meet with a 
 watery grave afterwards. They breed on the north coast 
 of the East Falkland Islands, and in the Jasons; and during 
 the season the lions keep jealous guard over the females, 
 which are quiet, inoffensive animals. The captain of a 
 schooner in the Falklands told me that he and his men 
 suddenly came upon from eighty to a hundred of these 
 monsters in the Jasons, which immediately made for the 
 
 Xe, 
 
~ 308 LECOMPTE, THE SEALS’ FRIEND. 
 
 water; and as the men intercepted their path they were 
 obliged to defend themselves as well as they could with 
 their clubs. The rush was tremendous, but the lions were 
 more frightened than the men, who, as you may suppose, 
 were rather taken aback by such an unlooked-for recep- 
 tion on a desolate island. Sea-lions are not easily killed 
 by a club ; indeed, I believe the usual way of killing them 
 is to shoot them with ball cartridge.’ 
 
 Dr. Murie, author of the most scientific monograph on 
 sea-lions that has ever been published, wrote me as to 
 this specimen :—‘ Your. specimen is undoubtedly an old 
 male; the changes in appearance from the younger to 
 the older stages, and the differences between the male 
 and the female, are very curious. There are, so to say, five 
 grades of development. First, the brain region in the 
 baby is preponderant. Second, the face begins to 
 lengthen. Third, the teeth acquire importance; and in 
 this stage sexual distinction becomes evident in the skull, 
 although there is still a considerable resemblance between 
 them. Fourth, notably differs from the preceding, the 
 bones becoming more massive and rugose, sexual character- 
 istics being marked; crests then rise. Fifth, as the 
 skull ripens to old age, particularly in the male, all the 
 characteristic points of the fourth stage are carried out by 
 excessive growth of processes, crests, and other superficial 
 developments of bony lines, spicules, and nodules. The 
 cavity of the eye looks forwards; the space behind for the 
 temporal and other jaw muscles enlarging as fleshy bulk 
 preponderates over brain character. 
 
 ‘It follows that all the aforesaid changes are an exact 
 counterpart of what obtains in the gorilla. In early 
 
. 
 | 
 | 
 | 
 | 
 
 
 
 LECOMPTE, THE SEALS’ FRIEND. 309 
 
 youth the brain is functionally predominant. The teeth 
 assume importance, with a corresponding facial accession. 
 Lastly, whereas brain enlargement is apparently arrested, 
 the muscles of mastication, those of the throat and neck, 
 indeed, all connected with the head, and_ therefore 
 involved in the organs of offence and defence, paramountly 
 swell in bulk and strength; nerves and_blood-vessels 
 augment proportionally. Thus, from the featureless skull 
 of the young is evolved the rugged, immense, brutal, and 
 terrible-looking sea carnivore, peculiar to the male of this 
 and certain other genera of the eared seals. 
 
 ‘The animal to which your skull belonged is not the 
 elephant seal (Morunga), and is a very different animal 
 from those exhibiting at Brighton, but belongs to the 
 same species (Otaria Jubata) as the earlier specimen and 
 some of the later ones which the Zoological Society 
 possess.’ 
 
 In 1875 Mr. John Willis Clarke gave a lecture at the 
 Zoological Gardens on Sea-lions.! He says concerning 
 the species to which this skull belongs :—‘ The canines 
 are of enormous size, and the two outermost incisors 
 of the upper jaw only a trifle smaller, so that when the 
 jaw is closed, and the lower canines fall between these two 
 enormous teeth, anything that may happen to come 
 between them is held as in a vice. The molar teeth are 
 so solid that sailors have mistaken them for flints. A 
 quantity of pebbles are always found in their stomachs. 
 The sea-lion is covered all over with coarse stiff hair. 
 Under the lower jaw and on the back of the head and 
 neck it is rough and shaggy. Beneath this hair is a crop 
 
 ' Contemporary Review, December 1875, 
 
310 LECOMPTE, THE SEALS’ FRIEND. 
 
 of under fur, distributed in delicate, short, fine hairs. Old 
 males develop a mane. The skulls, which are picked up 
 on the shore of the Falklands, are sometimes half as large 
 again as those of the largest living sea-lion. The male 
 does not attain his size until he is about six years old. 
 There are nine well-authenticated species of sea-lions. In 
 the North Pacific three, viz. Otarva ursina, O. Gillespu, 
 and O. Stelleri. Inthe South Pacifie two—O. Jubata and 
 O. Falklandica. At the Cape of Good Hope, O. Pusilla 
 or Antarctica. On the coasts of Australia and New 
 Zealand, O. Hookeri and O. Lobata. At Kerguelen’s 
 Island, O. Gazella.’ 
 
 The sea-lion, to which when alive the skull sent me by 
 the Rev. Mr. Lory belonged, must have been indeed a 
 gigantic creature, possibly as big as a moderate-sized horse. 
 
 Allied to these huge seals, but excelling nearly all of 
 them in bulk, is the walrus (Zrichecus rosmarus), a 
 denizen of the Arctic regions, remarkable for its great 
 tusks and bristly whiskers. The males are twelve to fif- 
 teen feet in length. The illustration of the walrus, and 
 those of the sea-bear and sea-lion, show three of the most 
 characteristic of the seal tribe. 
 
 It is not often that the walrus comes down so far south 
 as the coast of Scotland. The following notice from a 
 correspondent, therefore, is worthy of record:—‘I have 
 heard, to my great surprise, that a gentleman of undoubted 
 credibility and intelligence had during last summer seen 
 off the west coast of the Isle of Skye a large walrus. 
 Having occasion to visit the island, I was fortunate 
 enough to meet the gentleman who (with two friends) 
 saw the animal, and had the account direct from himself. 
 
 a 
 
‘SOUIVM FHHL—'9 ‘D1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
312 LECOMPTE, THE SEALS’ FRIEND. 
 
 The date of the walrus’s visit to Skye was, so far as my 
 friend could remember, about the 20th of June 1878. 
 He was seen lying on a rock near the shore on a fine calm 
 evening, and my informant and his friends were able to 
 get near enough to remove all doubt as to the identity of 
 the animal, with which they were familiar from plates or 
 stuffed specimens. The huge tusks were quite easily 
 distinguished, and the length of the animal was estimated 
 at about seven feet. On being disturbed he rolled over 
 into the sea, swam a short distance to another rock, and 
 clambered on to it, apparently using his tusks to aid him 
 in doing so. After some little time he took the water 
 again and was seen no more.’ 
 
eet SR ORME IRC iy cas 
 
 313 
 
 STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES. 
 
 THERE is something very attractive to the human mind, 
 whether educated or not, about the word ‘ Whale.’ It 
 may be that man, knowing his own inferiority of size and 
 strength as compared to many gigantic animals living 
 either on the earth or in the water, and also on the ommne 
 ignotum pro magnifico principle, looks upon the whale 
 as the very embodiment of size and strength. Again, it 
 is not impossible that our earlier impressions of Divine 
 power may have been obtained from whales being so fre- 
 quently mentioned in the Bible, especially in Gen. i., in 
 which whales are the first created animals mentioned by 
 name, thus—‘ And God created great whales.’ Then, 
 again, everybody knows the story of Jonah :—‘ Now the 
 Lord had prepared a great fish to swallow up Jonah, and 
 Jonah was in the belly of the fish three days and three 
 nights.’ On turning to Johnson’s Dictionary we find evi- 
 dence that in his day the science of natural history had 
 not very much advanced, for the learned lexicographer 
 defines a whale as ‘The largest of fish; the largest of 
 animals that inhabit this globe.’ 
 
 Whales are of the highest interest to the public—not 
 only in a scientific point of view, but also because their 
 value is of commercial importance to this nation. In former 
 
314 STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES. 
 
 times, with the exception of the celebrated Scoresby, but 
 few persons placed on record anything relating to the ~ 
 structure and habits of these huge oceanic mammalia ; 
 and even now a great field of inquiry is open to those 
 whose duty it is to hunt the leviathan of the deep amid 
 the icebergs and frozen seas of the Arctic Ocean. 
 
 I am proud of the friendship of a gentleman who has 
 of late years done more than any other person to give the 
 public information relative to the fauna of the far-distant 
 North—the whales and the seals. This gentleman has 
 spent twenty-two whaling seasons at the North Pole, and 
 each time he has returned from his perilous voyages he 
 has brought us back some interesting news from his hunt- 
 ing-grounds. I need hardly say that I refer to Captain 
 David Gray, of the steam whaling-ship ‘ Eclipse,’ of Peter- 
 head, Aberdeenshire. In the course of one of his recent 
 voyages Captain Gray has made a discovery relative to the 
 structure of the baleen or whalebone whale (Balena 
 mysticetus), and to its mode of feeding, which to the best 
 of my belief has hitherto been entirely unknown, and 
 which will doubtless excite great interest among all 
 naturalists. 
 
 The following is Captain Gray’s description of the head 
 of a Greenland whale, with sketches and measurements 
 taken during his voyage in 1876, showing the manner in 
 which the whalebone is arranged in the head :-— 
 
 ‘Fig. 7 shows the mouth open, and the position of the 
 whalebone when the animal is feeding; it is drawn to 
 scale, and is a good representation of its appearance. It 
 will be noticed that I have not filled in the correct number 
 of slips of whalebone, which amount to about 300 on each 
 
 
 
‘avel IaMoy ‘ad | 9UOG-UMOID “VY 
 
 ‘NGdO HLOOW ‘YNIGHAd SI CIVHM GAL NOHM GNOQAIVHM FHL JO NOILISOd—) “DIA 
 
 
 
316 STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES. 
 
 side of the head, but have only drawn a few lines showing 
 the direction they take towards the lower jaw when the 
 mouth is open. I counted the number of blades of whale- 
 bone in a whale’s head last voyage, and found 286 on the 
 left and 289 on the right side of the head. 
 
 ‘Along the middle of the crown-bone the blades of 
 whalebone are separated from each other by three-quarters 
 of an inch of gum, but the interval decreases, towards the 
 nose and throat, to a quarter of an inch. The gum is 
 always white; in substance it resembles the hoof of a 
 horse, but is softer. It is easily cut with a knife, or 
 broken by the hand, and is tasteless. 
 
 ‘The whalebone representing the palate is lined inside 
 with hair, for the purpose of covering the spaces between 
 the slips, and preventing the food on which the whale 
 subsists from escaping; this hair is short at the roof of 
 the mouth, but is from twelve to twenty inches long at 
 the points of the whalebone. The reason of this is that 
 when the mouth is opened the bone springs forward, and 
 the spaces between the slips are greatest at the points. 
 
 ‘ Hitherto it was believed that the whalebone had room 
 to hang perpendicularly from the roof of the mouth to 
 the lower jaw when the mouth was shut, but such is not 
 the case. The whalebone is arranged, as will be seen 
 from the sketch, to reach from the upper to the lower 
 jaw when the mouth is open; were it otherwise, the 
 whale would not be able to catch its food; it would all 
 escape underneath the points of the whalebone. 
 
 ‘ Fig. 8 shows the position of the whalebone when the 
 mouth is shut. The dotted lines show the jaw-bone, and 
 the black lines show the whalebone curving towards the 
 
 
 
“mel IaMoy ‘a& £ aUOG-UAOLO “V é 
 SULVId HHL ‘LAHS AIVHAM JO HLOAOW—'8 “OIA 
 
 a 
 
 “MVE YAMOT AHL JO NOILOV AHL Ad AVMV GuaMoVd ANOGAIVHM AO 
 
 
 
‘ 
 
 318 STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES. 
 
 throat. It is not very correctly drawn, but it will be 
 sufficient to show the arrangement which allows room in 
 a cavity or hollow in the lower jaw for the points of the 
 whalebone to lie in when the mouth is shut. The whale 
 has no muscular power over its whalebone, any more 
 than other animals have over their teeth. When the 
 animal opens its mouth to feed, the whalebone springs 
 forward and downward, so as to fill the mouth entirely ; 
 when in the act of shutting it again, the whalebone being 
 
 
 
 Fig. 9.—SECTION OF WHALE’S MOUTH SHUT. 
 
 C, crown-bone; G, gum; WB, whalebone; T, tongue; L, lips; 
 JB, jaw-bone; J, lower jaw. 
 
 pointed slightly towards the throat, the lower jaw catches 
 it and carries it up into the hollow befure described. 
 
 ‘Fig. 9 is a cross section cut halfway between the 
 blow-holes and the nose along the line aB, showing the 
 mouth shut, and the arrangement of the lips, jaw-bones, 
 tongue, and whalebone. It will be best understood ‘by 
 looking at the explanation given with the drawing. 
 
 ‘Fig. 10 is the same section showing the mouth open. 
 It conveys a good idea of the great capacity of the mouth 
 
 
 
STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES. 319 
 
 when open compared with the comparatively small space 
 _it has to hold the whalebone in when the mouth is shut. 
 
 
 
 
 
 FiG. 10.—SECTION OF WHALE’S MOUTH WHEN OPEN, 
 
 ‘Fig. 11 is the whale that these measurements were 
 taken from, drawn by a lady, and is the best representa- 
 tion of the Balena mysticetus that I have ever seen.’ 
 
 The dimensions were as follows :— 
 
 ft. in, 
 Length from nose to tail welt <0 
 Length of head from nose to eye . hall icon Bs) 
 Breadth of body between the fins . , ae clest) 
 Breadth of head across the jaw-bones . foe ad 
 Breadth of lip, including jaw-bone ; wie 
 Gape . , ‘ ' é eee Cine 
 Breadth of tail . : ; pene 
 Length of whalebone . ; ercherna! 
 
A i ten. yt 
 
 
 
 “peaytojog ,‘osdrpog , drys oy3 jo ‘Kvay pravq ureydep Aq portry 
 SVES GNVINEAAD AHL AO (snza0ushw vuxppg) AIVHM ANOGHIVHM— TI ‘DIT 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES. 321 
 
 - The problem hitherto unsolved has been the exact 
 manner in which the whale works his plates of baleen. The 
 result was known, but not the modus operandi. This is 
 the discovery made by Captain Gray. From his paper and 
 diagrams it will beceme evident that when the whale is at 
 work catching his food in the sieve-like, hair-lined mouth, 
 the baleen is extended to its full length along the whole 
 row of the plates. In pictures of whales, the beast 
 is always depicted with an open mouth, but surely the 
 whale does not always keep his mouth open! But then 
 the question comes, how does he shut it? and when he 
 shuts it, what does, he do with his baleen? How does 
 he pack it away? Gray, after careful examination of 
 many whales, has found out how this is done. When the 
 whale closes his lower jaw, he first gently pushes backwards 
 and upwards towards the palate the anterior plates of 
 baleen ; the posterior plates go back under pressure in 
 succession, till all the plates of baleen lie back in the 
 mouth, packed beautifully in regular order, one over the 
 other, over the angle of the eye. The bundle of hairs 
 from the tips of the plates of baleen fit into a hollow at 
 the edge of the jaws. 
 
 I have not the least hesitation in stating that the 
 description of the mode in which the whale packs away 
 his baleen when he wishes to close his mouth is entirely 
 new to the scientific world; and I challenge all comers 
 to account for this wondrous mechanism by the doctrine 
 of development or self-evolution. No; itis a proof—a new 
 proof, at the head ofa long catalogue of other evidences, ab- 
 solutely unerring and true—that the structures of animals 
 are not due to the causes which this doctrine would assign 
 
 MS 
 
322 STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES. 
 
 to them, but to the omniscience of Him who on the fifth 
 day of the Creation completed a wondrous work:—‘ And 
 God created great whales, and every living creature that 
 moveth, which the waters brought forth abundantly, after 
 their kind: and God saw that it was good.’ 
 
 On hearing of this discovery Professor Flower wrote 
 as follows :— 
 
 »* Captain David Gray’s observations upon the position 
 of the whalebone in the mouth of the Greenland whale 
 are quite novel, and of great interest. .They arose, as 
 the captain tells me in a letter just received, in conse- 
 quence of a conversation which ‘we had together a few 
 years ago, while looking at the skeleton of the large whale — 
 mounted in the Museum of the College of Surgeons. I 
 asked if he could explain what had always been to me, as 
 to others who have never had Captain Gray’s opportunities 
 of observation, a great puzzle, viz. how it was that the 
 whalebone was so much longer than the space which it 
 occupied in the animal’s mouth, supposing the blades to 
 be placed, as usually represented, at right angles with 
 the long. axis of the jaws. This difficulty occurred in 
 looking at all the authentic figures, such as Scoresby’s, 
 in which the height of the head is far too small for the 
 length assigned to the whalebone on the supposition 
 stated above, and equally in looking at the actual bony 
 framework of the head. Captain Gray’s explanation that 
 the slender ends of the whalebone blades fold backwards 
 when the mouth is shut, the longer ones from the middle 
 of the jaw falling into the hollow formed by the shortness 
 of the blades behind them, as seen in the side view, is 
 perfectly clear and satisfactory. It shows, moreover, how, 
 
 
 

 
 STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES, 323 
 
 whether the mouth is shut or open, or in any intermediate 
 position, the lateral spaces between the upper and lower 
 jaw are always kept filled up by the marvellously con- 
 structed hair-sieve or strainer, which thus adapts itself to 
 _ the varying condition of the parts between which it is, as it 
 were, stretched across. If the whalebone had been rigid, 
 and depending perpendicularly from the upper jaw, when 
 the mouth was open a space would have been left between 
 the tips of the whalebone forming the lower edge of the 
 strainer, which, as Captain Gray justly remarks, would 
 completely interfere with its use, although the stiff wall- 
 like lower lip, closing in the sides of the mouth below, 
 might have the effect of remedying snch a contingency to 
 a certain extent; at least, it would do so if the whalebone 
 were short and firm asin the Finners. The function of 
 this great lip in supporting the slender and flexible lower 
 _ ends of the blades of the Greenland whale, and preventing 
 them being driven outwards by the flow of water from 
 within when the animal is closing its mouth, is evident from 
 Captain Gray’s drawings and explanation. The whole appa- 
 ratus is a most perfect piece of animal mechanism. 
 ‘Captain Gray’s evidently truthful drawing of the Green- 
 land right whale is an acquisition to science. What is, how- 
 ever, really wanted to convey an impressive idea of the huge 
 size and extraordinary conformation of this animal is an 
 accurately prepared model of life size, constructed under 
 the direction of one as conversant with its appearance as 
 Captain Gray. Mr. Buckland has shown by his invaluable 
 casts of the smaller Cetacea the best way of exhibiting the 
 external appearance of such animals. It is greatly to be 
 wished that they, or similar specimens, may some day 
 x 2 
 
324 STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES. 
 
 find their way into the National Museum of Natural His- 
 tory,and may be supplemented by the more colossal species, 
 as the sperm, Greenland, and great fin-backed whales. 
 We have done all that we can with the space at our dis- 
 posal at the College of Surgeons, in exhibiting skeletons 
 of them and many of the smaller species of this most 
 interesting order of animals; we must look to the new 
 museum at South Kensington to do the rest.’ 
 
 The mechanism of the whale is admirably suited for the 
 conditions in which he is destined by the Creator to live. 
 He wears a great-coat several inches thick—literally wm 
 his skin ; that is to say, the cuticle, or scarf-skin, is very 
 thin and highly polished, like a well-polished boot ; 
 the skin itself consists of cells, which are filled up with 
 fat. 
 
 This fat, unfortunately for Mr. Whale, is very valuable, 
 not only for burning purposes, but also for dressing jute, a 
 flax-like material, which, when dressed with oil, assumes a 
 lustre not unlike silk. With this jute are made carpets, 
 curtains, and ladies’ chignons. Jute is also used in the 
 adulteration of black silk dresses. Ladies who are pur- 
 chasing black silk dresses can detect the presence of jute 
 by burning. If the fibre is true silk, being animal, the 
 smell will be of burning animal substance; if it be vege- 
 table, the scent of the burning material will be something 
 like that. of burning cotton. 
 
 The whale has apparently neither arms nor legs: but 
 his two front fins are not fins, they are hands; if the skin 
 be dissected off they will be found to contain five regular 
 fingers, all in one case—imagine the human hand ina 
 hedge-cutter’s glove, and you have the model of the 
 

 
 STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES. 325 
 
 whale’s paw. He does not use these paws for prehension 
 or touch, nor, I believe, at all for swimming; they simply 
 act to balance his weight in the water, and assist him in 
 steering himself. 
 
 We now come to his tail. Among nature’s beautiful 
 works three mechanical forces may. be said to take pre- 
 eminence: firstly, the stroke of a lion’s paw; secondly, 
 the kick of a giraffe; and thirdly, the stroke of a whale’s 
 tail. The whale’s tail is not only its sole weapon for 
 defence, but is its chief organ of motion. It is stated that 
 whales can go through the water at the pace of twenty- 
 five to thirty miles to the hour. The least of these speeds 
 would send them six hundred miles a day, or from 60° 
 north lat: to 60° south lat. in twelve days. 
 
 Though the usual colour of the whale on the upper part 
 is shiny black, the fore-part of the body underneath and part 
 of the lower lip are pure white, and the under part towards 
 the tail, slate or lead coloured. I do not quite understand 
 why the right whale should wear a black coat when he has 
 to bear a temperature of such intense cold. His cousin, 
 the beluga, wears a white coat. Here, then, is a problem 
 to be solved; but depend upon it there is a good reason 
 for the diversity of colour in these two whales’ coats. 
 
 The whale is a capital diver, but the time occupied 
 in his diving depends upon his business, whether feeding, 
 playing, or travelling. He is said seldom to remain at 
 the surface to blow longer than ten minutes, during which 
 period he blows eight or nine times; he then descends for 
 five to ten minutes; sometimes, when getting his dinner, 
 for fifteen or twenty minutes; when harpooned he will 
 stay under water fifty minutes. 
 
326 STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES. 
 
 ‘When whales are harpooned,’ Captain Gray writes, 
 ‘and there is no close ice in the immediate neighbourhood 
 that they can go to for protection, their usual custom is 
 to dive until they reach the bottom. They seldom go 
 beyond a depth of seven hundred fathoms, and remain 
 under water on an average fifty minutes, appearing again 
 near the same place where they were harpooned. They 
 then fall an easy prey to their pursuers, being so much 
 exhausted from dragging such a weight of line, and by the 
 great pressure they have been subjected to so far below 
 the surface. 
 
 ‘Should a whale escape, and be again harpooned, it 
 never commits the same mistake, no matter how many 
 years may have elapsed ; it always sets off as fast as it ean 
 go along the surface, and is very difficult to take, often 
 tearing the harpoon out of the blubber, or breaking the 
 Jines. Scoresby says that “a whale’s brain is only equal 
 in proportion to the three-thousandth part of its body,” but 
 they have a very good memory nevertheless.’ 
 
 Constituted as are the lungs of human beings, it is im- 
 possible for men to stay with impunity very long under water, 
 but in a lung-breathing animal, such as the whale, we find 
 a wonderful provision for the storing of the blood. At 
 the back of the lungs, between them and the ribs, is a vast 
 plexus of blood-vessels, which retain the blood when the 
 beast is under water, and cannot or is afraid to come up 
 to breathe. In our own veins there are very complicated 
 and beautiful valves, well worthy the attention of engineers 
 who have hydraulic works to manage. Professor Owen 
 first pointed out that the veins in the whale are remark- 
 able not only for their capacity, but above all for the 
 

 
 
 
 STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES. = 327 
 
 almost total absence of valves. The fact is of the utmost 
 importance to whalers, inasmuch as it enables them, with 
 such comparatively small weapons as the harpoon and 
 lance, to kill such an enormously large animal as a whale. 
 ‘The non-valvular structure of the veins in the Cetacea,’ 
 says Professor Owen, ‘and the pressure of sea-water at the 
 depths to which they retreat when harpooned, explain the 
 profuse and deadly hzmorrhage that follows a wound, 
 which in other Mammalia would be by no means fatal.’ 
 As an instance of the ease with which whales are some- 
 times killed, Captain Gray thus relates the capture of 
 one :—‘ It was struck close to the ship during a thick fog 
 
 witha strong gale of wind blowing, and surrounded by aclose 
 
 and heavy pack ; a more unfavourable state of matters could 
 hardly be. The whale took out seven lines, or eight hundred 
 and forty fathoms, and stopped taking any more. The lines 
 were made fast on board, and allowed to hang for ten hours 
 before commencing to haul them in. At the end of them 
 was a whale of the largest size, and all that was holding 
 her was a single wire, one-eighth of an inch in diameter.’ 
 
 On the other hand, the immense power of the whale 
 is sometimes exerted with fearful effect. To show the 
 great strength of a full-grown whale, I will quote the 
 following description of the capture of a big whale by 
 Captain Gray and one of his crews :— 
 
 ‘We were at the time nearly close beset, there being 
 only a small space of water at the floe edge ; many whales 
 were passing through it. One of them was harpooned, 
 and went off so fast that the harpooner failed to get a 
 turn of the lines round the bullet-head before the boat s 
 lines were all run out. The bullet-head is an oak post 
 
328 STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES. 
 
 placed in the bow of the boat, on to which three or more 
 turns of the line are put to help to drag the whale. The 
 “second boat’s lines soon followed, but a very heavy strain 
 was kept upon them. Two boats’ lines were then attached 
 to the end of the lines run out, so as to hang a heavier 
 strain. ‘They were also taken out, and other two boats 
 bent on their lines, and the boats’ bows lashed up to the 
 ice to prevent them from being dragged under. One more 
 line was taken out from each of the last boats, equal to 
 two and a half miles. 
 
 ‘The whale by this time had reached the other side of 
 the fioe. Men were sent over the ice with lances, and 
 succeeded in killing him; but before he gave in he broke 
 the lines in the dying struggle. Fortunately for us, it was 
 the line nearest the whale that gave way.. He proved a 
 valuable prize; his blubber measured twenty-two inches 
 thick along the back.’ 
 
 The bones of the whale are very peculiar. They are 
 neither hollow, as birds’ bones, nor marrow-containing, as 
 our own bones, but composed of a series of cells. These 
 cells are very porous, and contain more or less oil. Ina 
 section which 1 have lately made of a whale’s arm-bone, 
 the structure is well demonstrated, especially the binding 
 up, as it were, of this cellular bone structure with an ex- 
 ternal coating of bone as solid as that forming the leg-bone 
 of anox. J understand from Captain Gray that the bones 
 from the whales killed are in no way utilised, the reason 
 being, I suppose, want of space on board ship. — 
 
 There is one bone, however, in the whale which is of 
 exceeding hardness; this is the ear-bone. Now, it isa very 
 remarkable thing that the whale should be in all senses so 
 

 
 STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES. 329 
 
 strictly mammalian except as to one point, and that is the 
 ear. The reader should look in the head of the next cod, 
 haddock, or other fish he has for dinner, and he will find two 
 very hard ivory-like bones. These bones are the hearing 
 bones of the fish. The fish hear by means of vibration in 
 the water. The whale also lives in the water, and therefore, 
 by a most beautiful adaptation of means to ends, though 
 purely mammalian, he has, under the special conditions of 
 his existence, the ear-bones of a fish. These ear-bones are 
 not unfrequently found fossil in Suffolk. They are called 
 ceteolites. 
 
 When a huntsman goes in pursuit of an animal, he 
 must of necessity acquaint himself with the machinery of 
 offence, defence, or escape, with which the animal he 
 is in pursuit of is endowed. The whale, as I have men- 
 tioned, has great powers of hearing. These poor perse- 
 cuted brutes doubtless by this time have found out that 
 whaling-ships are their deadly enemies, and keep a sharp 
 look-out. The vibrations caused by the screw of a steamer 
 would of necessity be heard through water by the whale 
 at a great distance; therefore it is advisable, if it is desired 
 to get near the whales, to take up the screw and use the 
 sails only. | 
 
 It is the law of nature that all Mammalia should have 
 seven vertebre in the neck. A giraffe has a very long neck, 
 to enable him to pull down the lower branches of the palm- 
 trees on which he feeds, but he has only seven cervical 
 vertebre. The whale is also mammalian, therefore he 
 must have seven cervical vertebrae, and so we find he has. 
 When seen in the carcass the whale seems to have no 
 neck; he has not the same necessity as land animals 
 
330 STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES. 
 
 for moving the neck, but, for all that, he requires neck- 
 
 bones of some kind. We find, therefore, that the seven 
 
 cervical vertebrae are flattened—in porpoises very much 
 flattened—and appear like seven penny pieces soldered 
 together. I have a beautiful preparation in my museum 
 to show this. 
 
 The question now arises, what is to form the food of 
 this marine monster? The problem is difficult, because 
 not only must the animal feed, but he must actually lay 
 up fat; therefore his food must of necessity be abundant ; 
 but think what kind of food is likely to be abundant in 
 the frozen or freezing seas. We find, in fact, the largest 
 animal in creation preying, it may be almost said, on the 
 smallest animal in creation. The sea in these parts is 
 sometimes so filled with immense multitudes of small 
 animalcula dispersed through it, that they colour the 
 water of a greenish or brown hue. The principal food 
 of the Greenland whale consists of a small crustacean 
 not larger than the common house-fly, which lives on 
 these animalcula, and which is found in greatest abun- 
 dance when the temperature of the sea is from 34° to 35°. 
 The ordinary temperature of the sea amongst ice is 29°. 
 The colour of the water varies from dark brown to olive- 
 green and clear blue, the blue water being the coldest. 
 
 These little Crustacea are transparent, and the con- 
 tents of their stomachs can easily be seen to be dark 
 brown or green, as the case may be, giving the like colour 
 to the sea. 
 
 Captain Gray tells me that oil can be extracted by 
 properly treating this whale’s food. Is it not wonderful 
 that the oil should be as it were already in minute 
 
 é 
 eee ee 
 

 
 STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES. 331 
 
 animated drops, so that the whale can easily assimilate 
 them, and fill up the cells of his skin with a vast quantity 
 of oil? a good whale of fifty-two feet being capable of 
 yielding, when boiled down, twenty tons of oil. We have 
 already seen how the whale is to catch these animated oil 
 globules which form its food. Teeth would not be of the 
 least use to him. The only thing to be of use would be a 
 sieve. Aristotle first remarked this fact. ‘ Mysticetus 
 etiam pilas in ore intus habet vice dentiwm swis setrs 
 similes ’—* The whale has hairs in his mouth instead of 
 teeth, like the hairs of a pig.’ On this Professor Owen 
 
 - remarks :—‘ To a, person looking into the mouth of a 
 
 stranded whale, the concavity of the palates would appear 
 to be beset with coarse hair. The species of Balenoptera 
 which frequents the Mediterranean might have afforded 
 to the father of natural history the subject of his philo- 
 sophical comparison.’ 
 
 Captain Gray thus describes the movements of whales 
 when feeding :—‘ When the food is near the surface, they 
 usually choose a space between two pieces of ice, from 
 three to four hundred yards apart, which whalers term 
 their beat, and swim backwards and forwards until they 
 are satisfied, or the food is exhausted. They often go with 
 the point of their nose so near the surface that the water 
 can be seen running over it, just as it does over a stone in 
 a shallow stream; they turn round before coming to the 
 
 - surface to blow, and lie for a short time to swallow the 
 
 food before going away for another mouthful. They often 
 continue feeding in this way for hours, on and off, after- 
 wards disappearing under the nearest floe, sleeping pro- 
 bably under the ice, and coming out again when ready for 
 
332 STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES. 
 
 another meal. In no other way can their sudden reap- 
 pearance at the same place be accounted for. 
 
 ‘Very often the food lies from ten to fifteen fathoms 
 below the surface of the water. In this case the whales’ 
 movemeuts are quite different. After feeding, they come 
 to the surface to breathe and lie still for a minute. One 
 can easily see the effort they make when swallowing. 
 They then raise their heads partially out of the water, and 
 dive down again, throwing their tails up in the air every 
 time they disappear. Their course below the water can 
 often be traced from their eddy. This is caused by the 
 movement of the tail, which has the effect of smoothing 
 the water in circles immediately bebind them. 
 
 ‘More whales have been caught when feeding in this 
 way than in any other; they lie longer on the surface, and 
 generally head the same way every time they appear. This 
 is very important to whale-fishers, because whales must be 
 approached tail-on to give any certainty of getting near 
 enough to have a chance of harpooning them, and the 
 harpooner has a better idea where to piace his boat to be 
 in readiness to pull on to them whenever they come to 
 the surface. — 
 
 ‘Like all the other inhabitants of the sea, whales are 
 affected by the tides, being most numerous at the full » 
 and new moon, beginning to appear three days before, and 
 disappearing entirely three days after, the change. Often 
 this will go on for months with the utmost regularity, 
 unless some great change in the ice takes place, such as 
 the floes breaking up or the ice being driven off the 
 ground ; in either case they will at once disappear. 
 
 ‘No doubt whales are seen and often taken at any time 
 
 
 
te ae |) i ee ee UE Le 
 
 STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES. 333 
 
 of the tides; but if a herd is hunted systematically, and 
 they are attached to a particular feeding bank, this is 
 their usual habit. This peculiarity in their habits cannot 
 be easily accounted for; their food is as abundant during 
 the neap as it is in the spring tides.’ 
 
 I have some very fine specimens, showing the struc- 
 ture of the baleen, in my museum at South Kensington. 
 The longest slip of baleen is no less than 13 ft. 2 in. in 
 length and 9 in. in width. This must have been taken 
 from a magnificent animal. Two other very fine slips of 
 baleen measure respectively 9 ft. 3 in. by 8Lin. The mode 
 of the progressive growth of the baleen is a modification 
 of the design adopted in the tooth of the rabbit or the 
 tusk of the elephant. The baleen is wrongly called 
 whalebone. It certainly comes out of the whale, but 
 there is no bone whatever in its composition. It is com- 
 posed of hardened hair. The horn of the rhinoceros is 
 also composed of hairs matted, as it were, together into a 
 solid horn. The hairs of the baleen are united one to the 
 other by a kind of animal glue. By boiling and hammer- 
 
 | ing I find the baleen can be reduced to a state of hair. 
 
 The great anatomist and founder of the Royal College 
 of Surgeons was the first to describe the wonderful 
 mechanism of the growth of the baleen. I shall quote 
 the words of this great man :—‘ The plates of the baleen 
 are formed upon a vascular substance not immediately 
 adhering to the lower jaw-bone, but having a more dense 
 substance between, which is also vascular. This substance, 
 which may be called the nidus of the whalebone, sends 
 out thin, broad prongs answering to each plate, on which 
 the plate is formed, as the cock’s spur or the bull’s horn 
 
354 STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES. 
 
 on the bony core, or a tooth on its pulp, so that each plate 
 is necessarily hollow at its growing end, and the first part 
 of the growth taking place on tbe inside of the hollow, 
 &c.’? The whole passage is too long to quote, but the 
 process of growth may be thus illustrated: —Take an 
 envelope, gum it up, place it on one end, cut off the other 
 edge with scissors, gently squeeze it till it opens a little, 
 imagine the open part of the envelope to be filled with a soft 
 gluey material, and that this material gradually hardens 
 into baleen as it descends, till at last it is a solid plate 
 of baleen, 2.¢. the uncut edge of the envelope. 
 
 When at Peterhead I inspected Captain Gray’s store- 
 house of whalebone. The whalebone, as taken from the 
 whale, is piled up against the wall; it is then placed in a 
 large vat containing hot water, and the rough outside is 
 cleaned off by women. JI was much struck to find how 
 very soft and elastic whalebone is when wet. I expect 
 that when it is in the whale’s mouth it is very pliable, 
 and, in fact, little more than hardened gum. Rats are 
 very fond of whalebone. We pulled down the stacks of 
 whalebone, and Gray was much annoyed to find the rats 
 had gnawed at and spoiled some of the very best pieces. 
 Gray tells me that a whale’s age can be ascertained by the 
 growth on the bone each year being shown by a well-marked 
 succession of growth, somewhat like the rings in timber. 
 
 The eye of a living whale has a very comical look 
 about it; it has eyelids which open and shut. It is 
 placed very low down in the body (see illustration, p. 320). 
 Captain Gray has seen a whale come up from the bottom, 
 turn on his side, take a good look at the ship, and then go 
 downagain. He thinks the whales go under the ice to sleep. 
 
STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES. 335 
 
 The following are the dimensions of two of the whales 
 of the last voyage :—A bull whale forty-eight feet from nose 
 to tail; nose to the eye, seventeen feet; breadth across 
 the head, eight feet ten inches; gape, nine feet. Another 
 bull whale: total length, forty-seven feet ; head, seventeen 
 feet eight inches; body between the fins, eleven feet; 
 breadth of head, nine feet three inches. 
 
 At the Peterhead Museum there is a lovely specimen 
 of a foetal whale about thirty inches long; this little baby 
 whale is the prettiest thing I have seen for many a day. 
 From examining the specimens at Peterhead I think I 
 discovered an indentation on the nose that proved that 
 sucking whales have whiskers. In a porpoise just born 
 I discovered three hairs on one side of the snout and two 
 on the other. They were very slightly attached to the 
 skin, and of a pinkish colour. The whales suckle their 
 young with milk. Whale’s milk sounds very like pigeon’s 
 milk. I well recollect my father, the Dean, telling a story 
 of old Mr. Clift, of the College of Surgeons, going down to 
 dissect a whale somewhere at the mouth of the Thames, 
 and coming back with a quantity of whale’s milk, from which 
 he obtained cream, and subsequently butter. John Hunter 
 (my great ideal) never tasted whale’s milk, but he writes: 
 —‘ Whale’s milk is probably very rich, for in that caught 
 near Berkeley with its young, the milk, which was tasted 
 by Mr. Jenner and Mr. Ludlow, surgeon at Sodbury, was 
 rich, like a cow’s milk to which cream had been added.’ 
 He then goes on to describe the milk-secreting glands, 
 ‘situated on each side of the middle line of the abdomen 
 
 ' at the lower part; they are flat bodies lying between the 
 
 external layer of fat and abdominal muscles. They are 
 
336 STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES. 
 
 there that they may not vary the external shape of the 
 animal, and the trunk is large and appears to act as a 
 reservoir for the milk.’ 
 
 The young whales are said to suck for at least a year. 
 The mother is very affectionate to them. The yearling 
 whales are called ‘ shortheads,’ because the plates of 
 baleen are almost rudimental. JI imagine that as he is 
 sucking he does not require to feed on the ordinary food, 
 just in the same way as a sucking human baby has no 
 teeth, the baby teeth gradually appearing as the time 
 for its requiring solid food progresses. When two years 
 old, and weaned, young whales are naturally thin. They 
 are then called ‘stunts.’ A great many charity children 
 are stunts (who ever saw a fat charity child?). When 
 they have attained their full size they are called ‘ schull- 
 fish.’ 
 
 The following extract regarding the size of the whales 
 is from Scoresby’s ‘ Voyage to Greenland,’ chap. vi., page 
 49 :— 
 
 ‘ This whale, though a “ sucker,” was 19 feet in length, 
 and 14 feet 5 inches in circumference at the thickest part 
 of the body. The external skin on the body was an inch 
 and three-quarters thick, being about twice the thickness 
 of the same membranes in a full-grown animal. The 
 blubber was, on an average, five inches in thickness; the 
 largest of the whalebone measured only twelve inches, 
 about one-half of which was imbedded in the gums. The 
 external part of these fringes, not exceeding six inches in 
 length, did not seem sufficient to enable the little whale 
 yet to catch, by filtration out of the sea, the shrimps and 
 other insects on which the animal in a more advanced 
 
 . : 
 at aa ars 
 

 
 
 
 _ STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES. 337 
 
 stage is dependent for its nourishment. Maternal assist- 
 ance and protection appeared, therefore, to have been 
 essential for its support. 
 
 ‘The muscles about the neck, appropriated to the 
 movements of the jaws, formed a bed, if extended, of 
 nearly five feet broad, and a foot thick. The central part 
 of the diaphragm was two inches in thickness. The two 
 principal arteries in the neck were so large as to admit a 
 man’s hand and arm. The general appearance of the 
 brain is not unlike that of other Mammalia; but its 
 smallness is remarkable. In this whale, of 11,200 pounds, 
 or seventy times the weight of a man, tbe brain was only 
 three pounds twelve ounces. Large as the whale is in 
 bulk, the throat is but narrow. In this animal the 
 diameter of the cesophagus, when fully distended, was 
 scarcely 24 inches, with difficulty admitting my hand. 
 The foregoing measurements and weight all refer to a 
 sucking whale that at the time of capture was under 
 maternal protection.’ | 
 
 In the Peterhead Museum there are some very inter- 
 esting specimens of harpoons. There we see a harpoon 
 taken from the back of a whale by the ship ‘ Active,’ 
 June 30,.1863, supposed to have been in the whale’s back 
 thirty-three years; and a harpoon with line attached, 
 taken out of the back of a whale by the crew of the 
 steamship ‘ Eclipse,’ July 1872 ; this harpoon had been in 
 this whale since 1870. 
 
 I have received (among several valuable specimens 
 from the Arctic Seas) some very fine ‘ whale-lice.’ The 
 Latin name of these curious parasites is Cyamus ceti, or 
 Pow de la baleine of the French. When turned out 
 
 Z 
 
338 STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES. 
 
 of the spirits of wine they dry up immediately, and show 
 that they are of a horny substance: they are horrid- 
 looking wretches, buff coloured. The largest is three- 
 quarters of an inch long, and about the same in width. 
 There are three legs on each side, and two legs which pro- 
 ject from behind, like steering-oars. All these legs are 
 armed with a claw. The two hind legs have the longest 
 and strongest grappling-hooks. On placing a big claw 
 under the microscope, I find it is crooked, at about the 
 angle ofa fish-hook half unbent. The lower third of the claw 
 is transparent, and has a point sharper than the sharpest 
 sewing-needle ever turned out at Redditch. So sharp are 
 these needle-pointed claws that I find if I apply the dead 
 whale-louse to my cheek, the sharp claws take a firm hold 
 on to the flesh. Even picked up they will stick firmly to 
 the fingers. Each beast has two very minute black 
 eyes, like specks, and the back appears armour-plated, not 
 unlike the back of an armadillo. There are three females 
 among the lot. They carry their eggs, the size of a large 
 egg of an ant, in a sac under the posterior third of the 
 body. Why do all these parasites breed so fast? These 
 specimens were taken from a fair-sized whale ; the place 
 where they were found was behind the pectoral fins, just 
 where they join the body. It frequently happens that the 
 lice congregate in patches as big as a plate all over the 
 whale’s body, eating great holes into the skin of the unfor- 
 tunate beast. The whale seems to suffer much from the 
 persecution of these terrible sharp-clawed parasites, for he 
 is often seen to jump clean out of the water, as though 
 attempting to get rid of them. No jumping out of the 
 water would unseat these sure-seated jockeys, for they 
 
STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES. 339 
 
 must be cut out of the skin with a knife before a man can 
 get them off. It is stated (but not by Captain Gray) that 
 the whale-lice are occasionally seen in such numbers 
 upon the whales that the individuals so infested are recog- 
 nised at a considerable distance by the peculiar colour im- 
 parted to them by the mass of parasites. 
 
 It is very difficult to form a theory as to what may be 
 the use of these parasites to the whale. There may possibly 
 be a reason, but I doubt whether the wretches can afford 
 much domestic pleasure and comfort to the persecutee. 
 It may be possible that it is nature’s ordained means for 
 keeping the species in check, and not allowing the whales 
 to increase too rapidly in the seas which they inhabit. I 
 will illustrate my meaning thus :— 
 
 In the vast forests of Africa live elephants. Now, these 
 animals are so large and strong that there is nothing bigger 
 than they to beat them. From the elephant we go down- 
 wards in the scale of creation, and we will stop at the 
 point of flies. All along this great series we find one kind 
 of animal preying upon another, in obedience to the law, 
 ‘Eat and be eaten.’ The reader will ask, what is to kill 
 and eat the elephant? My answer is, the flies, of course ; 
 and I believe it is a positive fact that a great many ele- 
 phants are killed by flies. These gigantic animals get 
 wounded. In the hot climates where they live the wounds 
 immediately attract swarms of flies; these flies lay their 
 egos, and when the young are hatched out they eat great 
 holes into the elephant’s body. Pain, irritation, and fever 
 are caused by the attacks of these flies, and I am informed 
 that it not unfrequently happens that elephants are found 
 dead, the cause of death being fly-blows. It may be pos- 
 
 Z2 
 
340 STRUCTURE AND HABITS OF WHALES. 
 
 sible, therefore, that these whale-lice, minute as they are 
 in comparison to the gigantic size of the whale on which 
 they live, may sometimes cause the death of the whale. 
 The death of the whale would be a great boon to the 
 sharks, sea-birds, shrimps, and other sea creatures, to 
 which his flesh is as a Greenwich dinner to hungry Lon- 
 doners ; but yet these comparatively small beasts are not 
 of themselves sufficiently powerful to kill a whale. 
 
 A man may fight single-handed a lion, an elephant, or 
 other wild beast, and will probably be victorious ; but 
 place this same victorious man in a bed previously occupied 
 by a colony of fleas or Norfolk Howards, and he would soon 
 run, despite a well-stocked armament of rifles, shot-guns, 
 and other sporting paraphernalia. The same inability in 
 man to fight numbers of minute things has often been 
 proved by salmon-anglers, who have been forced to retreat 
 from the river-bank by clouds of mosquitoes, when they 
 did not care a bit for half a dozen water-bailiffs, even 
 though armed with the new clauses of the Salmon Bill of 
 1873. 
 
 It may be possible that these whale-lice, insignificant 
 and unimportant as individuals, may by numbers and con- 
 stant irritation kill a whale fifty-seven feet long and 
 _ weighing over a hundred tons, this being about the largest 
 right whale Captain Gray has ever killed. 
 
 Whales are also subject to another kind of parasite ; it 
 is a barnacle which buries itself deep in the skin of the 
 
 heap. It is called Coronula balenearis, or the ¢ whale’s — 
 
 barnacle.’ A specimen sent me from Golspie was figured 
 and described in Land and Water, May 19, 1866. The 
 specimen itself is in my museum. | 
 
 i, 
 
 * 
 
Maa. Ae re eS ee 
 
 341 
 
 THE WHITE WHALE AT WESTMINSTER 
 AQUARIUM. 
 
 Ir will be well recollected that a whale was on view in 
 the Westminster Aquarium in October 1877. This whale 
 did not survive very long. Farini, then the manager, 
 with great pluck said to his agent, Mr. Zach Coop, ‘ Zach, 
 he is dead. Go and fetch me another whale; be off 
 directly.’ So off goes Mr. Zach up to Lerwick, Shetland, 
 to see whether, by the assistance of the Lerwick fisher- 
 men, he could not fill up the vacancy in the whale tank in 
 the Westminster Aquarium. Mr. Coop was, however, a 
 little too late in the season for the Lerwick whales, so he 
 returned whaleless. So said Farini, ‘ Well, if you cannot 
 catch a whale this side of the Atlantic, we must go to the 
 other side for him.’ The telegraph was set to work, and a 
 whale-trap was prepared in St. Paul’s Bay, which is 
 situated in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, to the westward of 
 Newfoundland. In the spring of the year the whales 
 come into the estuary of the St. Lawrence River, probably 
 in search of food. So it came to pass that directly the 
 school of whales in the year 1878 entered the river St. 
 Lawrence, they swam straight into the most ingenious 
 trap awaiting them, and were caught, or rather made to 
 strand themselves. 
 
 > 
 
342 THE WHITE WHALE AT WESTMINSTER AQUARIUM. 
 
 A whale ashore is as helpless a thing as a ship ashore. 
 There he must stay, floundering on the sand, rock, or mud, 
 till either the water comes to his assistance, or else he is 
 picked up by the hands of man. Previously to the whales 
 coming to St. Paul’s Bay their travelling carriages were 
 prepared to bring them to London. These consisted of 
 immense boxes or packing-cases, the lids being formed of 
 loose canvas. Zach Coop managed to pack four of these 
 gentlemen—one for Westminster, one for Manchester, and 
 one for Blackpool. The other, the fourth, probably dis- 
 gusted at the whole proceeding, maliciously departed this 
 life in the middle of the Atlantic. 
 
 The authorities of the Westminster Aquarium tele- 
 graphed me that the whale would probably arrive about 
 six o'clock. I had not long to wait when a cab drove up, 
 out of which jumped Farini, looking very pale and travel- 
 worn. In the transport of the whales from Liverpool 
 various misadventures and difficulties, requiring great 
 management, had taken place. But, however, all’s well 
 that ends well, and the first words that Farini said to me 
 were, ‘ He is all right.’ Having gone through many such 
 expeditions in carrying water beasts long distances, I fully 
 sympathised with Farini’s joyous exclamation. 
 
 The box was brought tothe Aquarium in a van. They 
 slid it out of the van gently on to the shoulders of a small 
 army of men. After a considerable amount of shuffling 
 of feet, and orders promptly obeyed, the whale’s box was 
 placed upon trestles alongside of his future home, the 
 covering of the canvas was taken off, and I had the first 
 look at him. He was lying on his stomach in the box, 
 and was securely packed round with seaweed so that he 
 
i) 
 . * 
 
 THE WHITE WHALE AT WESTMINSTER AQUARIUM. 343 
 
 could not flop about. I could not see his face, only his 
 blow-hole, which I was delighted to find was acting 
 smoothly and well. The general appearance made one 
 query whether he was alive or dead, but the action of the 
 blow-hole on the top of the head gave one an idea that 
 the creature was a gigantic white human baby with black 
 lips snoring in its sleep. 
 
 The whale is said to weigh about a ton and a half. 
 We did not attempt to lift him out of the box, but simply 
 ordered the carpenters to knock away the boards from one 
 side of it, and to clear away the seaweed as much as pos- 
 sible. This done, all hands were piped to tilt the box 
 —‘ One, two, three,’ and the whale gradually turned over 
 on his side like a man in a restless sleep. Another inch 
 more up, and Mr. Whale rolled off into the water with a 
 terrific splash and bang, sending the spray flying all over 
 the place. 
 
 At first he sank right to the bottom, and remained 
 there some little time. We watched him with great 
 anxiety. So numerous had been his adventures for the 
 last five weeks, that no doubt he did not quite know 
 where he was, whether back home in the Gulf of St. 
 Lawrence, or still in his box. Nor had he probably quite 
 made up his mind whether he ought to adapt his blow- 
 hole to breathing air pure and simple, or whether he 
 would have to take the usual precautions to prevent the 
 air getting down into his nose when in the water. 
 
 After a while the whale began to realise his position ; 
 he gently got up steam with his tail, and gradually 
 ascended to the surface. Arrived there he gave us a 
 specimen of his first blow, which sounded not unlike the 
 
344 THE WHITE WHALE AT WESTMINSTER AQUARIUM. 
 
 splutter made by a man when he first reaches the air 
 after a dive. Then he went down again, being probably — 
 somewhat nervous at the assembled company. Finding 
 that he was not molested or bothered by anything, he 
 then began to enjoy himself in his bath, and mightily 
 pleased he seemed to be with the lavations of cold water 
 once more. 
 
 I was sorry to see that during his five weeks’ journey 
 his cuticle, or scarf-skin, had got loose and was peeling 
 off; but asa set-off to this, he had no cold in his head.. 
 When the last whale arrived he certainly had threatening 
 inflammation of the lungs. This present fellow had no 
 symptoms whatever of this. 
 
 I picked out of the box a bit of the whale’s cuticle; 
 it is very thin, and about the consistency and feel of oiled ~ 
 silk or gutta-percha sheeting. On one side it is very 
 smooth, and looks as though it had been highly polished 
 with furniture polish; it is very transparent, and exhibits 
 numerous specks, reminding us of the appearance of the 
 insertion of the hairs—always in threes—into a pigskin 
 saddle. JI was pleased to see that the bath seemed to 
 refresh the whale very much, and to relieve him of much | 
 of the skin hanging loose about him. To my mind, the 
 fear was that fungus might grow upon him. 
 
 After the whale had been in the bath about an 
 hour I again examined him. By this time the beast 
 seemed to have made himself quite at home. He did 
 not seem the least frightened, but was gently swimming 
 up and down the tank. It was a curious thing that 
 not once did he go near the sides of the tank. He 
 kept in the middle, swimming backwards and forwards 
 

 
 THE WHITE WHALE AT WESTMINSTER AQUARIUM. 345 
 
 within a given distance. He went to the ends of his beat, 
 turned round, and came back again, sometimes swimming 
 in an oval. When he came to the end of his beat he 
 went ‘threes about.’ In performing this movement, he 
 turned his side up to the top of the water, so that one 
 could see his funny little bead-like black eye. That 
 whales do this when they look to the top of the water— 
 the natural position of the eyes enabling them to see 
 only sideways—is a fact, as I know from Captain David 
 Gray, for he has seen more than once a whale come up 
 from deep water, and inspect the ship, swimming round 
 and round it, just as did the Westminster whale. When 
 the whale had been in his whalery about three hours, 
 he had quite recovered himself both in mind and body. 
 He was swimming very leisurely, very easily, and very 
 gracefully, and blowing about three times in two minutes ; 
 his blow-hole is situated a comparatively long distance 
 from the point of his nose. The first thing to be ob- 
 served was the point of his nose; instantly followed the 
 blow-hole, and you could hear the sharp quick puff, which 
 can be imitated by saying the word ‘puff’ with open 
 lips. Then came his arched back, which appeared 
 for a moment on the surface of the water like a crescent. 
 Many of our friends have doubtless seen porpoises rolling 
 at sea, and what a curious appearance their black backs 
 
 have in the distance. 
 Upon the swelling waves the dolphins show 
 
 Their bending backs, then, swiftly darting, go, 
 And in a thousand wreaths their bodies throw. 
 
 I was at once reminded of pictures on old china, &e., 
 
346 THE WHITE WHALE AT WESTMINSTER AQUARIUM. 
 
 of Arion, who made his escape by mounting a dolphin and 
 riding him across the ocean, a fact thus chronicled by 
 
 Ovid :— 
 But past belief, a dolphin’s archéd back, 
 Preserved Arion from his destined wreck ; 
 Secure he sits, and with harmonious strains 
 Requites the bearer for his friendly pains. 
 
 How Arion managed to stick on the slippery back of a 
 dolphin, a considerable ‘buck jumper,’ I know not, but 
 poets and painters are very wonderful fellows, and can 
 make impossibilities look like possibilities. 
 
 The arrival of this whale was important in two senses. 
 Firstly, as a sight pure and simple, to the younger minds 
 certainly educational. I observed two little children gazing 
 most attentively at the whale, and that a new idea was at 
 that moment being photographed on their infant minds I 
 have no doubt. Secondly, the whale may enable natu- 
 ralists to discover many points in the history of Cetacea 
 hitherto unexplained, to wit, the action of the blow-hole. 
 The problem solved by this wonderful piece of mechanism 
 is very marvellous. 
 
 The first unaided idea, of course, is that an animal 
 destined to live in water must be a fish, and, of course, 
 breathe by gills. I once terribly offended an old salt by 
 telling him a whale was not a fish. ‘Hang it, man!’ 
 he said, ‘I’ve been at sea man and boy for forty years, 
 and now you tell me a whale is not a fish!’ A whale, 
 however, is pure mammalian like ourselves. The young 
 are born alive and suck milk; their blood is warm; they 
 have a four-cavitied heart ; their bones, muscles, and ner- 
 vous system resemble in structure those of other Mam- 
 malia. 
 
 
 
ae 
 
 LHE WHITE WHALE AT WESTMINSTER AQUARIUM. 347 
 
 But the orders are that these great Mammalia are to 
 live all their lives in the waters without ever coming out. 
 Other creatures, notably the hippopotamus, the walrus, 
 and seals, come out of the water when they choose, but 
 get their food in the water ; how then is the breathing of 
 these animals to be managed? In the seal we find self- 
 acting valves that close the apertures in the nostrils as 
 tight as a cork in a wine-bottle when the creature de- 
 scends beneath the waves. 
 
 In the whale we find altogether a different kind of 
 
 self-acting breathing-valve. The windpipe does not com- 
 municate with the mouth; a hole is, as it were, bored 
 right through the back of the head. Engineers would 
 do well to copy the action of the valve of the whale’s 
 blow-hole; a more perfect piece of structure it is impos- 
 sible to imagine. Day and night, asleep or awake, the 
 whale works his breathing apparatus in such a manner 
 that not a drop of water ever gets down into the lungs. 
 Again, the whale must of necessity stay a much longer 
 period of time under water than seals; this alone might 
 possibly drown him, inasmuch as the lungs cannot have 
 access to fresh air. We find that this difficulty has 
 been anticipated and obviated by a peculiar reservoir in 
 the venous system, which reservoir is situated at the back 
 of the lungs. 
 
 The white whale is the Beluga delphinapterus. His 
 home is in the Arctic seas, especially the great bays and 
 
 straits which so properly record the names of Davis and 
 
 Hudson, and which may be generally said to separate 
 Greenland (lat. 60°to 80°N.) from the north-east coast 
 of British North America. What they do or whither they 
 
 i 
 NN a ee ey ee 
 
348 THE WHITE WHALE AT WESTMINSTER AQUARIUM. 
 
 go all the winter, no human being knows. Their structure is 
 such that their fat, which surrounds their body like a great- 
 coat, preserves them during the awful cold they have to 
 bear. In habits these animals are gentle, and not fierce 
 like the great cachalot. They are fond of company, and go 
 in herds. Jam informed that they will seek rather than 
 avoid the company of man, and that when a vessel is in 
 sight they will come and play round the bows as a sort of 
 welcome to their kingdom in the vast deep. It is also 
 stated that Mr. Beluga forms a sort of advanced guard of 
 the valuable whalebone whale; and when the beluga is 
 seen, harpooners begin to look up their whale lances. 
 Like the right or whalebone whale, the attachment of the 
 mother to its calf is very great. The calf, when first 
 born, is said to be of a dazzling whiteness; as it gets 
 bigger it becomes milk-white. Beluga’s food is cod, flat- 
 fish, such as plaice, flounders, &c., and possibly salmon. 
 At the Aquarium he was fed with eels. One of these eels 
 managed to creep inside a fold of the whale’s skin, and 
 seemed inclined to eat\the whale instead of the whale 
 eating him: the whale had to be caught with a great 
 sheet of canvas, and taken out of the water before this 
 eel could be removed. Tench were also tried, as the eels 
 seemed a little too active for Beluga, and tench are slug- 
 -gish. It was curious to remark how the eels seemed to 
 know he was their enemy, for they kept up in a corner 
 quite clear of his track. Roach also were placed in his 
 tank; it. was very remarkable to see how the roach 
 seemed likewise to know that the whale was their enemy. 
 As he came near them the shoals broke up immediately, 
 and dispersed right and left as quickly as they could. 
 
 
 
THE WHITE WHALE AT WESTMINSTER AQUARIUM. 349 
 
 Beluga’s mouth was not very wide; he had nine or ten 
 small teeth in it. His pectoral fins were oval, broad, 
 and thick, and he generally used them for balancing 
 purposes. Every now and then he took a stroke with 
 them to assist his forward movement. 
 
 Those who wish for a nearer view of the beluga cron 
 examine the cast which I took of him now in my museum, 
 which contains a very fair collection of casts of the whale 
 kind. Casting is the only possible way of preserving the 
 exact outline of whales. The plaster takes accurately the 
 impression of every fold in the skin, and the exact 
 dimensions of the tail, mouth, eyes, lips, &e. No stuffing 
 skeletons or drawings will do this. The drawback to 
 casting is that a is very expensive and exceedingly 
 laborious. | 
 
350 
 
 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE AROTIC NARWHAL. 
 
 WHEN at Peterhead, during the herring inquiry, I observed 
 on board the whaler ‘ Eclipse,’! a very fine specimen of 
 the narwhal’s skull, with the horn still resting in it. 
 This specimen Captain Gray most kindly gave me for 
 my fish museum, South Kensington. The total length 
 of this horn projecting from the skull was 4 ft. 1 in. 
 and the portion of the horn inside the skull 10 inches; 
 the weight of the horn ten and a half pounds. The 
 beauty of this specimen is that it is quite in the rough. 
 One-half of it presents a dark reddish appearance, as if it 
 had been touched over with paint. Captain Gray tells me 
 this is a natural colour, and is frequently seen in narwhal 
 horn. The twist of the horn goes from right to left. The 
 horn grows from the left side of the skull. It seldom if 
 ever grows from the right side of the skull, never from 
 the centre. Occasionally narwhals’ skulls are found with 
 two horns ; in this case the right horn is always very small. 
 Captain Gray has been kind enough to send me the fol- 
 lowing interesting account of the narwhals that have come 
 under his notice. It will be seen from this what huge 
 creatures these narwhals really are :— 
 
 1 J have given a full description of the ‘ Eclipse’ in my Log: book of 
 a Fisherman and Zoologist, p. 295, 
 
NATURAL HISTORY OF THE ARCTIC NARWHAL. 351 
 
 ‘T herewith send you all the measurements of narwhals 
 that I have recorded. 
 
 Piciaaiemaie; lenoth, 12 ft. 6 in; girth, 7 ft..6 in.; 
 horn, 3 ft. 10 in. long, very rare in the female. 
 
 ‘2nd. Male; length, 13 ft; girth, 8 ft.; horn, 6 ft. 
 4, in. » 
 
 ‘3rd. Male; length, 14 ft. 3 in.; girth, 8 ft. 4 in.; 
 horn, 6 ft. 43 in. 
 
 ‘4th. Male; length, 14.ft. 4 in.; girth, 9 ft. 1 in.; had 
 a broken horn, which I sent you lately. 
 
 fora Male; length, 15.ft. 1 in. ;, girth, 9 ft. 5 in. ; 
 horn, 7 ft. 6 in. 
 
 ‘6th. Male ; length, 15 ft. 4 in.; girth, 10 ft.; horn, 
 7 ft. 8 in. You have this horn in your museum. : 
 
 ‘The narwhal whose head and horn I gave you lately, 
 was caught in latitude 78° 45’ N.; longitude 0° 30’ W. 
 I do not know what might have been the length of the 
 longest horn I have seen, but I have measured one 
 8 ft. 4 in., and I do not think they often exceed that 
 length. 
 
 ‘JT am not sure what use the narwhal has for its horn. 
 It is only the males who usually have them. We see 
 them often striking them against each other, and they are 
 nearly always broken at the point. 
 
 ‘The narwhal is a very peaceful creature; they are like 
 their big brothers the whales. The male and female go 
 in different herds. They are very subject to colds, if 
 one may judge from the hoarse way some of them blow; 
 you would fancy sometimes you had got amongst a herd 
 of cattle. I examine the stomach of every narwhal taken, 
 and find that their staple food in Greenland is cuttlefish. 
 
/ 
 ~ * 
 *. % 
 
 352 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE ARCTIC NARWHAL. 
 
 The inner skin of the narwhal is used for making shoe- 
 
 leather. | 
 ‘Narwhals are only taken by whale-fishers as a pastime. 
 
 I have heard of vessels in Davis Straits taking’ 100 of 
 them. I do not know any particular use for narwhal 
 
 horns. ‘There was a great demand for them some years — 
 
 since. Their value at that time was from 20s. to 30s. per 
 
 pound. It was said they were sent to Japan to ornament — 
 
 religious houses or churches, but I do not know the truth 
 of this.’ 
 
 Captain Gray is quite right about the use of narwhal 
 horns in Japanese temples. A friend of mine sent two 
 hundred pounds’ worth of narwhal horns to the Chinese 
 and Japanese markets, but unfortunately the ship was 
 taken by pirates. The Chinese Ambassador not long ago 
 examined at my house the. specimen Captain Gray gave 
 me, and was so much struck with its appearance that I do 
 not think it possible he could have seen a narwhal horn 
 before. He was most anxious to get a specimen to take 
 back with him to China. I fancy that the narwhal horns 
 are used in some form of worship in the Buddhist temples 
 in China. 
 
 As regards the question of the female narwhal carrying 
 a horn, Captain Gray captured in June 1872, as above 
 mentioned, a female narwhal carrying a horn 3 ft. 10 in. 
 
 in length. The only other instance I have met with 
 
 of a female narwhal having a horn is mentioned by 
 Scoresby. In the account of his voyage to Greenland in 
 1822, he says :—‘ Besides the whale now captured we killed 
 during our stay near the same place two female narwhals, 
 one of which, a case most extraordinary if not unpre- 
 
 ~ ¥ 
 a oa! 
 = } 
 
NATURAL HISTORY OF THE ARCTIC NARWHAL. 353 
 
 cedented in this sex, had an externalhorn. This horn was 
 A ft. 3 in. in length, of which 12 inches were embedded in 
 the skull. It had also a milk tusk, as is common in 
 others of the sex, 9 inches long, of a conical form, and 
 obliquely truncated at the thicker end, without the knot 
 found in many of the milk tusks. The horn, asin the male, 
 was on the left side of the head. The length of the animal 
 was 13 ft. 6 in. It was beautifully variegated with bluish 
 black or grey spots. It differed in no respect from other 
 females of the same age excepting with regard to the horn.’ 
 
 The ivory of the weapon is valuable; it is more com- 
 pact, harder, and more susceptible of a good polish than 
 that of the elephant’s tusk. There is shown to visitors at 
 the Versailles Library a walking-stick formed of a nar- 
 whal’s tusk, ornamented with mother-of-pearl. The throne 
 of the Kings of Denmark once—and perhaps still—to be 
 seen in the Castle of Rosenberg, is of the same material. 
 
 Some years ago there was a remarkable collection of 
 narwhal tusks on sale at Mr. Wareham’s, Castle Street, 
 Leicester Square. There were upwards of forty of these 
 tusks, varying in length from 2 ft. 6 in. to 9 feet. I 
 do not recollect ever having seen so many or such fine 
 tusks in one series. 
 
 When Captain Gray returned from his whaling voyage 
 in 1879, he gave me the following most interesting account 
 of a fight between a narwhal and a walrus :— 
 
 Extract from the Log of the SS. ‘ Eclipse, July 6, 1879. 
 ‘Running north through floes and loose ice this forenoon 
 I noticed some distance ahead what I at first took to be 
 the stock of a hand harpoon, standing out of very greasy 
 water, and a number of birds sitting round it. This I at 
 
 AA 
 
854 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE ARCTIC NARWHAL. 
 
 first thought might be a dead whale, just rising to the 
 surface, but I soon saw that it was a narwhal horn. As 
 we came nearer I observed something brown-looking, and 
 was puzzled for some time before I made this out to be a 
 walrus, evidently holding the narwhal. 
 
 ‘As soon as we were near enough, I sent two boats 
 away with orders to strike a hand harpoon into the nar- 
 whal, and fire a gun harpoon into the walrus, both of which 
 they did. The first harpooner struck the narwhal close 
 past the walrus’s nose, whereupon he looked very savage, 
 and let go his hold of the narwhal, which immediately 
 began to sink. The walrus being unwilling to part with 
 his prey upon such easy terms, dived underneath the nar- 
 whal and raised him to the surface, again renewing his 
 hold with his teeth, and clasping him round the body with 
 his flippers. 
 
 ‘The second boat now came up, and the harpooner fired 
 his gun harpoon through the walrus’s neck. He then let go 
 his hold of the narwhal, and dragged the boat a consider- 
 able distance to windward, when a rifle bullet in the back 
 of the head finished him. 
 
 ‘On examination, after getting them on board, we 
 found the narwhal disembowelled, and a oreat part of the 
 belly eaten away or torn into shreds by the walrus, who 
 had been very particular as to the parts he ate, and had 
 been taking plenty of time to feed. He had eaten the 
 
 blubber as clean off the skin as if it had been flinched’ 
 
 with a knife. The narwhal was quite fresh, and newly 
 killed, and in the death-struggle had been all scored with 
 the walrus’s tusks from nose to tail in every direction, 
 although the inner skin was not cut. 
 
_—— 
 
 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE ARCTIC NARWHAL, 355 
 
 ©The walrus was in prime condition. The blubber upon 
 him was three inches thick; his stomach was quite full of 
 pieces of sealskin and the part of the narwhal which he 
 had eaten. He had, at a moderate estimate, one hundred 
 and fifty gallons of oil and blubber in his stomach. 
 
 ‘The length of the narwhal was fourteen feet, exclusive 
 of horn, by nine feet in circumference. The length of 
 horn was five feet. 
 
 ‘The walrus measured eleven feet long, and nine feet 
 ten inches in circumference. 
 
 ‘The question is, How did the walrus manage to hold 
 a powerful animal like the narwhal ? certainly more in 
 his element than the walrus, and who can spin out a hun- 
 dred fathoms of whale line very smartly, even with a 
 big gun harpoon through and through him. 
 
 ‘The only way I can think of is that he had found the 
 narwhal asleep, gone underneath him, dug his tusks into 
 his belly, and clasped him round the body with his 
 flippers, in which position we found them, with this 
 difference, that the walrus was uppermost. 
 
 ‘This is only the third walrus I have seen off on the 
 deep-water whaling banks during the last fourteen years. 
 Their natural home being near the land, where their 
 ordinary food is, all kinds of shellfish, I could never before 
 understand how they got their living so far from the 
 shore, not knowing that they would eat seals and nar- 
 whals, or that they could catch them. 
 
 ‘T expect that those we see out in deep water are 
 like rogue elephants driven out of the herd, or like the 
 man-eating tigers we hear of in India.’ 
 
 AA2Z 
 
356 
 
 UNCLE TOM, THE ALLIGATOR, AT THE 
 SOUTHPORT AQUARIUM. 
 
 I was much pleased to be able to pay a short visit to the 
 Southport Aquarium on my way home from the north in 
 November 1876. The most remarkable novelty was a 
 splendid alligator about eight feet long. He had a nice 
 spacious glass cage all to himself, the two ends of the cage 
 containing gravel stones, and in the centre was a pond in 
 which he could bathe when so inclined. When first 
 bought, Mr. Alligator was in a very seedy condition 
 indeed, terribly thin and wan-looking—in fact, half 
 starved. His skin was all in cracks, and his coat of mail 
 had to be oiled every morning by means of a flannel on 
 the end of a stick. This acted like a Turkish bath to our 
 friend, and did his constitution good. For many days, 
 even weeks, he sulkily refused to eat, and lay quiet and 
 still like a stuffed thing. At last he took—all of a gulp— 
 alive pigeon, and ever afterwards he fed well. \ The secret 
 of getting him to eat was temperature—temperature the 
 old story, the key to so many fishery problems, whether of 
 salmon, oysters, or alligators. Hot-water pipes were in- 
 troduced under the floor of his den, and Mr. Alligator, 
 feeling the agreeable heat to his gouty toes and elegant 
 figure, fancied, I suppose, he was back again in the tropics, 
 
UNCLE TOM, THE ALLIGATOR. 357 
 
 so he woke up and began to eat; and what more tasteful 
 beginning could there be than a nice live pigeon with 
 feather sauce? This ogre now feeds capitally on pigeons ; 
 in fact, he is getting expensive to keep; he will eat beef, 
 fish, and almost anything. They don’t stand live pigeon 
 dinners every day. 
 
 Anxious to show me his pet feeding, the curator offered 
 to give the alligator more supper ; he had already devoured 
 his proper supper. The curator got on to the top of 
 the cage and touched him gently with an iron rod. I was 
 surprised to see the activity of the rascal; he opened his 
 eyes with a jerk, up went his head like a run-away hansom 
 cab horse, he gave an indignant whisk with his tail like a 
 lady picking up her skirts when a clumsy fellow puts his 
 foot on the pet lace, and, to my surprise, began to puff 
 himself up. Gradually he became larger, larger, and 
 larger, like the blowing up of a football; his armour 
 glittered, and the bony studs stood well out from the soft 
 intermediate skin. I confess, when at his full I longed to 
 run a pin into him to save his life, as I saw he had a 
 chance of meeting with the same fate as the foolish frog 
 in Atsop’s Fables, who vainly puffed himself up trying to 
 become as big as the ox, with whom he was having an 
 argument. Just, however, as he came to the bursting 
 point, Alligatorus Rex alligatorum suddenly relaxed him- 
 self, and his steam escaped, I suppose, through his larynx 
 and nose. Anyhow, he began a most sonorous hiss. 
 ‘ H-i-s-s, h-i-s-s;’ I can hear it now—just the noise a 
 dragon ought to make. It was like no hiss I ever heard 
 before, much deeper and louder sounding than any snake. 
 As he continued his hissing he became thinner and 
 
358 UNCLE TOM, THE ALLIGATOR, 
 
 thinner, till he looked quite the skeleton of his former i 
 
 pretty self. Then he began to blow himself up again, for 
 (I could see it) the iron rod was getting up the monkey 
 of Mr. Alligator. 
 
 A chicken’s head and neck were then suddenly thrown 
 into the bath; in an instant Leviathan forgot his rage. 
 (Mem.: when a homo bipes implumes, one of our own 
 
 noble species, loses his temper, give him a dinner, and he | 
 
 will be all right, showing once again that ‘the nearest 
 way to the heart is down the mouth.’) However, hearing 
 the chicken’s head fall splash into the water, the alligator 
 —he should be called Uncle Tom—was after it in an 
 instant, and seized it just as a dog catches up a running 
 rat in his mouth. He first of all bit it spitefully as 
 though to kill it, if it happened to be a live thing; and 
 then—one, two, three, and away—chump; back went his 
 head, down his throat went the chicken’s head in a 
 moment. Reader, hold your nose and swallow a pill 
 before the looking-glass, and you will understand how 
 
 Uncle Tom swallowed the chicken’s head. His blackship 
 
 then gave a gulp, and, like the ‘Oh the poor workhouse 
 boy’ in the song, asked for more. Three chickens’ heads 
 and a bit of beef, extra rations, did Uncle Tom get that 
 evening, and all on myaccount. Supper over, he crawled 
 on to his warm bed of shingle, and as the door over his 
 head closed, he lazily shut his eyes, as much as to say, 
 ‘Thank ye, my boy, you may come as often as -you like. 
 Now don’t bother me, I’m going to sleep; good night, my 
 
 hearties.’ ‘ Here, hie! please give me a nice live pike for 
 
 my breakfast to-morrow morning. I like pike; I shall 
 dream of pike, for I like (just as you like) a bit of sport as 
 
 Fie hn he 
 
AT THE SOUTHPORT AQUARIUM. 359 
 
 well as a bit of grub, and if I can combine the two, why, 
 so much the better. 
 
 Really, ‘ Uncle Tom’ is a grand beast ; he is growing 
 so fast that he is to have a new drawing-room and dining- 
 room, and then he will have space to swish his tail; he 
 has not much room for his tail just now. I wonder how 
 it is that in the ‘ struggle for existence’ his tail has not 
 begun to curl; may be his descendants in one hundred 
 thousand years will have their tails curled up like a pug- 
 dog’s. By the way, why do some pigs wear straight tails, 
 some curly tails? There’s a problem for you. 
 
 Besides big Uncle Tom, there are a number of smaller 
 alligators. Close to the end of the Uncle’s cage is a 
 charming family of baby alligators, from ten inches to 
 one foot long. These little boys and girls have a nice 
 hot nursery, heated from underneath, and a flannel 
 blanket over their dear little heads. They are as active 
 as blackbeetles, and when their counterpane is taken off, 
 scuttle away in all directions. If I reckoned right, there 
 were twenty or thirty of these little fellows. Several of 
 the ladies in Southport have purchased pets from among 
 them, and it may be that no Southport lady will consider 
 her establishment perfect without a baby alligator to bask 
 on the hearth-rug, and go out for a walk on the promenade 
 with her. When the pet defuncts, he can be stuffed, 
 gilt, and put in the hat for an ornament, don’t you know ? 
 
 However, those inthe Aquarium are growing fast; they | 
 gorge like charity children at a ‘tea and bun’ festival. 
 The keeper cuts up fish into small bits, and throws 
 them into the cage ; they scramble for them famously, and 
 apparently love each other in that disinterested, charitable, 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
UGE UNCLE TOM, THE ALLIGATOR. 
 
 and unselfish manner which may be seen by a careful 
 observer who throws down handfuls of coppers among the 
 London gamins and street Arabs in the crowd when wait- 
 ing for the Lord Mayor to pass through Fleet Street on 
 ‘ All Sprats’ Day, November 9. | 
 
 But there are yet more of Uncle Tom’s relations at 
 Southport. A huge box, looking like a gigantic coal- 
 scuttle, stands near the boilers in the engine-room. Open .- 
 sesame! and lo and behold a nest of young alligators 
 of all sizes and shapes, like the ladies’ bonnets and hats in 
 a Regent Street shop! The curator dives his hand in 
 and picks them out one by one, holding them aloft like an 
 old fishwife in the Edinburgh market selling Scotch 
 haddies. The lot are not yet presentable. They have 
 not yet received the certificates of the School Board, and 
 their tempers and appetites are not sufficiently mollified by 
 the furnace fire to go into the glass apartments which are 
 getting ready for them, so they remain at their ease, toast 
 themselves before the engine-room fire, while the engine- 
 driver consoles their minds by whistling to them ‘ Tommy, 
 make room for your uncle,’ and feeds them with bread and 
 cheese, which they will not eat. 
 
 
 
361 
 
 THE WAXWORKS IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY, 
 
 IN all ages and in all times there has been a natural desire 
 among the human race to perpetuate the memory of them- 
 selves, their ancestors, and of illustrious persons, both men 
 and women. The modes adopted of preserving the memory 
 of deceased people have been, first, by preserving the actual 
 bodies ; second, by making likenesses of these bodies; or 
 third, by erecting monuments with the name engraved 
 upon them. In the earliest ages of mankind the ancient 
 Egyptians, who had attained toa high state of civilisation, 
 attempted to preserve the remains of their friends by means 
 of embalming. 
 
 My dear old friend Herodotus, born B.c. 484, who, 
 some two thousand three hundred years ago, note-book in 
 hand, ‘inspected’ the manners and customs of the 
 Egyptians, obtained from the priests—I wonder how he 
 got the information ?—a detailed account of how to make 
 mummies. This is the sum and substance of Herodotus’s 
 official report. Mummy-making was probably a profession, 
 and these mummy-makers charged pretty high for their 
 labours. To make a person into a first-class mummy cost 
 a talent of silver (about equal to 225/. of English money), 
 the second cost twenty mine (or 75/.), the third a much 
 smaller sum. The Egyptian mummy-makers knew quite 
 
 
 
362 THE WAXWORKS IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 
 
 well that the dry climate of Egypt would greatly assist in 
 the preservation of their work. Those of my readers who 
 wish to see a first-class mummy should examine, in the 
 Royal College of Surgeons, Lincoln’s Inn Fields, the re- 
 mains of the priest of the god Ammon. The name of this 
 dignitary of the Egyptian Church was Horsiensi of Thebes. 
 He was the son of Naspihiniegori, another priest, and he 
 held the office of thurifer, or incense-bearer—there was no 
 Lord Penzance in those days. Now the Rev. Horsiensi has 
 in his mummy state attained a good old age. Thebes, also 
 called Hecatompylos, on account of its hundred gates, was 
 in its splendour 1600—800 B.c., so that the mummied 
 priest we can go and see any day is about three thousand 
 years old. 
 
 The first form of monument was simplicity itself—it 
 consisted simply of throwing a stone or earth upon the 
 deceased person. We find this idea conveyed to us very 
 neatly by Horace (Ode 28) in the request made by the 
 deceased sailor, Archytas, to throw an earthen veil over his 
 shipwrecked body :— | 
 
 At tu, nauta, vagee ne parce malignus arenz 
 Ossibus et capiti inhumato 
 Particulam dare. ..... 
 
 Quamquam festinas (non est mora longa) licebit 
 Injecto ter pulvere curras, 
 
 Nor thou, my friend, refuse with impious hand 
 A little portion of this wandering sand 
 
 To these my poor remains. _ 
 
 Whate’er thy haste, oh! let my prayer prevail, 
 Thrice throw the sand, then hoist the flying sail. 
 
 The urgent request of poor Archytas was probably due 
 
THE WAXWORKS IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 363 
 
 to the idea which prevailed among the good people of 
 
 those days, that an unburied person wandered about after 
 death one hundred years. Here is the evidence of the belief. 
 Virgil writes (Aneid) :— 
 
 Heec omnis, quam cernis, inops inhumataque turba est ; 
 
 Portitor ille Charon ; hi quos vehit unda sepulti 
 
 Nee ripas datur horrendas et rauca fluenta, 
 
 Transportare prius, quam sedibus ossa quierunt, 
 Centum errant annos, volitantque hee littora circum. 
 
 ‘All that crowd which you see consists of unburied 
 persons. The ferryman is Charon; these whom the stream 
 carries are interred, for it is not permitted to transport 
 them over the horrid banks and hoarse resounding waves 
 before their bones are lodged in urns. They wander a 
 hundred years, and flutter about these shores.’ 
 
 The loose stones thrown on a body out of respect were 
 probably after a while replaced by one stone. The body 
 was buried, and the stone placed above the body as a 
 memorial of its resting-place. The best example of this, 
 to my idea, is conveyed by the Pyramids of Egypt, which 
 are sepulchral monuments to the memory of kings. When 
 the Radcliffe Library was first built at Oxford, it was spite- 
 fully remarked that this learned physician simply wished 
 to erect a huge monument to himself. 
 
 The modern form of monument isa stone placed either 
 over the grave, or else in some place where the deceased 
 was personally known. Such a monument may be said to 
 represent the separate stones thrown on Archytas, con- 
 solidated into one block, with the name subsequently in- 
 scribed thereon. 
 
 Another kind of monument is the actual representation 
 
 
 
364 THE WAXWORKS IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 
 
 of the person when alive. The figure was represented 
 either as a whole figure such as a life-sized statue, or as a 
 bust ; and the figure or bust we find either erected in public 
 places, such as the Duke of Wellington at Hyde Park 
 Corner, Lord Nelson at Charing Cross, Jenner at Kensing- 
 ton Gardens; or placed in a consecrated edifice. Hence 
 probably the origin of conserving these memorials of the 
 illustrious departed at Westminster Abbey, that tomb of 
 kings; or, as the eloquent Dean Stanley so aptly called it, 
 the ‘home of the people of England, and the most vene- 
 rated fabric of the English Church.’ 
 
 These monuments are made sometimes of stone, 
 generally of the most imperishable stone, viz. marble. 
 They are also sometimes made of metal, highly gilt and 
 ornamented ; seldom of wood. ‘There is, however, another 
 kind of material which claims favour to be utilised for 
 monumental purposes; that material is wax. Wax in 
 itself is about as imperishable a substance as can be found 
 among animal or vegetable substances ; butit has the dis- 
 advantage of being easily melted, and very friable, hence 
 it has not been used very much for monuments. Wax 
 was sometimes used in embalming, and it was a capital 
 material for making the wrinkles in the bandages of mum- 
 mies air-tight ; even in the present day a form of wax is 
 used for the tops of pickle-bottles. The body of King 
 Agesilaus was enveloped in wax, and conveyed to Lace- 
 demon. The Persians also used it for sepulchral purposes— 
 Perse jam cera circumlitos condiunt ut quam maxime 
 permaneant diuterna corpora. In the days of our an- 
 cestors, it appears that wax was put on its trial for 
 monumental purposes, and I propose in this article to 
 
 
 
THE WAXWORKS IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 365 
 
 make some remarks on the use of wax for effigies, com- 
 monly known as waxworks. 
 
 Waxen images of persons seem somehow or another to 
 have fallen into disrepute. For my own part, if wax can 
 be used to preserve the likeness of a person, I do not see 
 why it should not be as highly esteemed as marble. I 
 suppose it is not much thought of because of the waxen 
 heads of ladies with long hair we see in the barbers’ shops. 
 Waxen babies, pigs, ears, hands, arms, eyes, noses, &c., 
 are hung up as ex votos at the present day in churches in 
 France. 
 
 I have, lately examined very carefully the oldest wax- 
 worksin England. These, I need hardly say, are the wax- 
 works now in Westminster Abbey, and which to my mind 
 are national relics worthy of the greatest respect and 
 reverence. The following account is given in a description 
 of the Abbey, its monuments and curiosities, printed by 
 ‘J. Newbery, at the Bible and Sun, in St. Paul’s Church- 
 yard, 1754.’ In this curious pamphlet, the Westminster 
 Abbey waxworks are called the ‘ Play of the Dead Volks’ 
 (sic) and the ‘ Ragged Regiment.’ 
 
 The following is the account of the condition of these 
 waxworks one hundred and twenty years ago :— 
 
 ‘Over this chapel (Islip, otherwise St. Erasmus) is a 
 chantry, in which are two large wainscot-presses, full of 
 the effigies of princes and others of high quality buried in 
 the Abbey. These effigies resembled the deceased as 
 nearly as possible, and were wont to be exposed at the 
 funerals of our princes and other great personages in open 
 chariots, with their proper ensigns of royalty or honour 
 appended. Those that are here laid up are in a sad 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
366 THE WAXWORKS IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 
 
 mangled condition; some stripped and others in tattered 
 robes, but all maimed or broken. The most ancient are 
 the least injured, by which it would seem as if the cost- 
 liness of their clothes had occasioned the ravage; for 
 the robes of. Edward VI., which were once of crimson 
 velvet, but now appear like leather, are left entire; but 
 those of Queen Elizabeth and King James I. ave entirely 
 
 stripped, as are all the rest of everything of value. In - 
 
 two handsome wainscot-presses are the effigies of King 
 William and Queen Mary and Queen Anne in good condi- 
 tion, and greatly admired by every eye that beholds 
 them.’ 
 
 The figure of Cromwell is not here mentioned, but in 
 the account of his lying in state the effigy is described as 
 made to the life in wax, apparelled in velvet, gold lace, 
 and ermine. ‘This effigies (sic) was laid upon the bed of 
 state, and carried upon the hearse in funeral procession ; 
 both were then deposited in Westminster Abbey; but at 
 the Restoration the hearse was broken in pieces, and the 
 effigies was destroyed after hanging from a window at 
 Whitehall.’ 
 
 When my father was Dean of Westminster, somehow 
 or other he seldom used to show visitors to the Abbey 
 into this curious room, and it is now only to be seen by 
 special order from the Dean. The visitor ascends through 
 a time-worn staircase into the chapel, and a most curious 
 
 sight then meets his eye. Set up against the wall are 
 
 very large, massive cases, not unlike big clock cases. 
 There are glasses in front of these, so that the figures 
 inside can well be seen. ‘As far as I could see, they are not 
 labelled except with chalk superscriptions. 
 
 ° i 2 — oo ‘ b ? a . a Pe . Nit hl ota = ’ ae —_ a 
 IO Rati as tI RA tee ah ROM A Na Pg BFA AEE A RNG, 5 ERLE AE SOLO ETO ANGE a AGE A ESF GCE FIDE 
 
 
 
an 
 
 THE WAXWORKS IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 367 
 
 Dr. Stanley, Dean of Westminster, has, in his most 
 
 ‘interesting ‘Memorials of Westminster Abbey,’ p. 340 
 
 (Murray, 1868), the following able observations on these 
 waxworks :— 
 
 ~*Amongst the various accompaniments of great 
 funerals—the body lying in state, guarded by the nobles 
 of the realm ; the torchlight procession ; the banners and 
 arms of the deceased hung over the tomb—there was one 
 so peculiarly dear to the English public as to require a 
 
 short notice. 
 
 ‘This was the herse—not, as now, the car which con- 
 veys the coffin, but a platform highly decorated with 
 black hangings, and containing a wa«en effigy of the 
 deceased person. It usually remained for a month in the 
 Abbey, near the grave, but in the case of sovereigns for a 
 much longer time.. It was the main object of attraction, 
 sometimes even in the funeral sermon. Laudatory verses 
 were attached to it with pins, wax, or paste. Of this kind 
 probably was Ben Jonson’s epitaph on Lady Pembroke :— 
 
 Underneath this sable herse 
 Lies the subject of all verse, 
 Sidney’s sister,’ &e. 
 They were ever highly esteemed as works of art. 
 
 ‘Mr. Emanuel Decretz (Sergeant-painter to King 
 Charles I.) told me! in 1649 that the catafalco of King 
 James at his funerall (which is a kind of bed of state, 
 erected in Westminster Abbey, as Robert, Earl of Essex 
 had, Oliver Cromwell, and General Monke) was very 
 ingeniously designed by Inigo Jones, and that he made 
 
 1 Aubrey’s Letters and Lives, ii. 412. 
 
 
 
368 THE WAXWORKS IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 
 
 the four heads of the caryatides of plaster of Paris, and 
 
 made the drapery of them of white callico, which was very — 
 handsome and very cheap, and showed as well as if they — 
 
 had been cutt out of white marble. ; 
 
 ‘These temporary erections, planted here and there in 
 different parts of the Abbey, must of themselves have 
 formed a singular feature in its appearance. But the 
 most interesting portion of them was the “ lively effigy,” 
 which was there placed after having been carried in a 
 chariot before the body. This was a practice which has 
 its precedent, if not its origin, in the funerals of the great 
 men of the Roman Commonwealth. The one distinguish- 
 ing mark of a Roman noble was the right of having 
 figures with waxen masks, representing his ancestors, 
 carried at his obsequies and placed in his hall. 
 
 ‘In England the royal funerals were, till the time of 
 Henry V., distinguished by the exhibition of the corpse 
 itself of the deceased sovereign. But even before that 
 time the practice of effigies had been adopted. 
 
 ‘These wax figures were detached from the herses and 
 kept in the Abbey, generally near the graves of the 
 deceased, but were gradually drafted off into wainscot 
 presses above the Islip Chapel. Here they were seen in 
 Dryden’s time— 
 
 And now the presses open stand, 
 And you may see them all a-row. 
 
 ‘In 1658 the following were the waxen figures thus 
 exhibited : — 
 
 Henry the Seventh and bis fair Queen, 
 Edward the First and his Queen, 
 
 3 
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 Pl EE ANS ep ROL ATE POOP 
 
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THE WAXWORKS IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 369 
 
 Henry the Fifth here stands upright, 
 
 And his fair Queen was this Queen, 
 
 The noble Prince, Prince Henry, 
 
 King James’s eldest son, 
 
 King James, Queen Anne, Queen Elizabeth, 
 And so this Chapel’s done. 
 
 ‘With this agrees the curious notice of them in 
 1708 :— 
 
 ‘And so we went on to see the ruins of majesty in the 
 women (sic, waxen ?) figures placed there by authority. 
 As soon as we had ascended half a score stone steps in a 
 dirty, cobweb hole, and in old, worm-eaten presses, whose 
 doors flew open at our approach, here stood Edward III. 
 as they told us, which was a broken piece of waxwork, a 
 battered head, and a straw-stuffed body, not one-quarter 
 covered with rags. His beautiful queen stood by, not 
 better in repair; and so, the number of half a score kings 
 and queens, not near so good figures as the King of the 
 Beggars make, and all the begging crew would be ashamed 
 of their company. The rear was brought up with Good 
 Queen Bess, with the remnants of an old dirty ruff, and 
 nothing else to cover her. 
 
 ‘Stow also describes the effigies of Edward III. and 
 Philippa, Henry IV. and Catherine, Henry VII. and 
 Elizabeth of York, Henry, Prince of Wales, Elizabeth, 
 James I., and Queen Anne as shown in the chamber close 
 to Islip Chapel. Of these the wooden blocks, entirely 
 denuded of any ornament, still remain. 
 
 ‘But there are eleven figures in a tolerable state of 
 preservation. That of Queen Elizabeth was, as we have 
 seen, already worn out in 1708, and the existing figure is, 
 
 BB 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
370 THE WAXWORKS IN WESTMINSTER ABBRY. © 
 
 doubtless, the one made by order of the Chapter to com- 
 memorate the bicentenary of the foundation of the Colle- 
 giate Church in 1760. As late as 1783 it stood in Henry 
 VII.’s Chapel. The effigy of Charles II. used to stand over 
 his grave, and close beside him that of General Monk. 
 The former is tolerably perfect, and seems to have early 
 attracted. attention from the contrast with his battered 
 predecessors. Monk used to stand beside his monument 
 by Charles II.’s grave. The effigy is in too dilapidated a 
 condition to be shown, but the remnants of his armour 
 exist still. The famous cap, in which the contributions 
 for the showmen were collected, is gone.’ 
 
 The first effigy to which I made my bow was King 
 Charles II., dressed in magnificent raiment. The wax of 
 the face is somewhat bleached by the sun, but I should 
 imagine from the pictures that the portrait is exceedingly 
 good. The robes once must have been very grand; the 
 lace on the king’s breast is of the finest Venetian point. 
 The king has long black hair; he was evidently a dark- 
 looking man, but one expects that any moment his fea- 
 tures will break out into a jovial smile. King Charles II. 
 died a.D. 1685—nearly two hundred years ago. If this is 
 the original effigy used at his funeral, it has lasted very 
 well indeed. Immediately opposite King Charles II. 
 stands, also in a large case like a clock case, the Duchess 
 of Buckinghamshire, with one son as a child. She was 
 the daughter of James II.; she died in 1743, and the 
 waxen effigies of herself and her son were prepared for 
 her funeral. It is difficult, on account of the bad light, 
 exactly to make out her dress, but it appeared to be very 
 magnificent, though dust-covered, and in excellent pre- 
 
 
 
-THE WAXWORKS IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 371 
 
 servation, although nearly one hundred and forty years 
 
 old. The other surviving effigies are those of William and 
 Mary, Queen Anne, the beautiful Duchess of Richmond, 
 of Charles II.’s time, the Earl of Chatham, and Lord 
 Nelson; the last two figures not being genuine funeral 
 effigies, but added as attractions to the collection. 
 
 
 
372 
 
 THE JEWS’ FISH-MARKET IN LONDON. 
 PASSOVER CUSTOMS OF LONDON JEWS. 
 
 Havine heard that a great number of small fry of fresh- 
 water fish were being sent to the Jews’ fish-markets in 
 London, between Bishopsgate and Whitechapel, in the 
 spring of 1878, I made time, during the sitting of the 
 Committee on Mr. Mundella’s Fresh-water Fishery Bill, | 
 now a most useful Act of Parliament, to inspect for myself, 
 in order to see how far the proposed provisions of this Act 
 might interfere with the food supply of those wonderful 
 people the Jews. My visit was paid just before the Feast 
 of the Passover was about to commence. 
 
 This part of London is simply a Jewish colony, and 
 the general appearance of the place and people gave me 
 
 the idea of a strange foreign town. I seldom heard ~ a 
 
 English spoken at all, in the streets or between buyer 
 and seller, but a language was used in conversation quite 
 strange tome. I wondered if it might be Hebrew. The 
 streets were very narrow and very dirty; the shops also 
 had a strange look about them; the advertisements in 
 the windows appeared to be in Hebrew, not in English. 
 The bakers seemed very busy; their shop windows were 
 filled with round thin cakes, about twelve inches across ; 
 these are the Passover cakes. Several men were packing 
 
 
 
Se) 
 
 THE JEWS’ FISH-MARKET IN LONDON. 37 
 
 these cakes in half-hundredweights, probably to send to 
 Jews in other parts of England. 
 
 Another species of food I observed was quite new to 
 me, namely, cucumbers, apparently boiled and placed in 
 salt and water, selling at a penny or halfpenny a slice ; 
 I cannot think how any one can eat them. The fried 
 fish shops were very abundant; the fish was sold cold, 
 and looked excellent: of course I tasted this; it was 
 plaice, cut into junks, and sold for a penny and twopence 
 ajunk. This fish is, I believe, first dipped in batter, and 
 then fried in boiling oil; but this cannot be quite all, 
 ‘because the fish had a nice delicate taste of almonds; 
 perhaps it may be almond oil that is used, or essence of 
 almonds with salad oil. Halibut, as well as plaice, seems 
 to be a very favourite fish with the Jews, but it is more 
 expensive. Halibut is considered by very many people 
 to be superior to any other sea fish. 
 
 Some of the shops sold fowls. I observed that all the 
 fowls sold were very old, many of the hens having long 
 spurs; I understand that a Jew or Jewess will always 
 buy fat fowls, no matter what their age may be; they buy 
 for weight, if for nothing else. The same rule applies to 
 old ducks and geese—they must have weight: they 
 probably have some peculiar way of cooking these old 
 fowls. When they buy live fowls, they take them to 
 their butcher, and pay a penny or twopence to have them 
 killed: there are persons employed purposely to kill the 
 beasts and other animals. The bullock is not slaughtered 
 in the same way that is usual in ordinary slaughter- 
 houses ; according to the Jewish religion, the beast must 
 die from its throat being cut, instead of being knocked on 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
374 THE JEWS’ FISH-MARKET IN LONDON. 
 
 the head. The slaughterer of the cattle must be a Jew. 
 ‘London Labour and London Poor’ tells us, ‘Two 
 slaughterers are appointed by the Jewish authorities of 
 the synagogue, and they can employ others, who must 
 likewise be Jews: if there is any trace of disease in the 
 ‘animal, the meat is pronounced unfit for the food of the 
 Jews, and is sold to the Christians. To the parts exposed 
 for sale, when the slaughtering has been according to 
 the Jewish law, there is attached a leaden seal, stamped 
 in Hebrew characters with the name of the examining 
 party sealing. The meat killed by a Christian is called 
 tryfer; that killed by the Jews is called kosher. Ona 
 Saturday there is cold fish for breakfast and supper; 
 indeed, a Jew would pawn his shirt off his back rather 
 than go without fish then, and in holiday time he will 
 have it; it is not considered a holiday unless there is fish. 
 The thing that struck me most was the custom of the 
 Jewish women wearing wigs. When standing at the 
 corner J counted no less than nine Jewesses wearing wigs. 
 Some of these wigs were brown and some black. They 
 were apparently not worn for show purposes; some were 
 low down on the forehead, some all awry, and some at the 
 back of the head. I cannot conceive how the Jewesses 
 can wear these hideous wigs. I believe this custom of 
 wearing wigs is not confined to the poorer classes. 
 Statistics inform us that thirty-five thousand Jews 
 reside in England; of these about eighteen thousand 
 live in London. Of all curious places in London com- 
 mend me to the Jewish fish-market in Petticoat Lane. 
 My learned friend Dr. Adler, the eminent Jewish 
 Minister, and son of the chief Rabbi, wrote me to the 
 
 
 
 os) CW nett aati nae et ior 48 
 
 
 
THE JEWS’ FISH-MARKET IN LONDON. ts Wat 
 
 _ following effect :—‘ We Jews eat fresh-water fish simply 
 because we like them, and because the poor can afford 
 to buy them better than meat, which is more expensive. 
 We eat cucumbers simply because we regard them as a 
 delicacy, and most of our poor come from Holland and 
 Germany, where everybody eats cucumbers. 
 
 ‘The origin of eating fresh-water fish and cucumbers 
 _ may possibly be derived from the fifth verse of the elev- 
 enth chapter of Numbers: “We remember the fish, 
 which we did eat in Egypt freely ; the cucumbers, and the 
 melons, and the leeks, and the onions, and the garlick.” 
 
 ‘With reference to the wigs worn by the Jewish 
 women, these wigs are only worn by married women, 
 mostly Polish. The object is to cover the hair go as not 
 to be so attractive as before marriage. 
 
 ‘Our Passover is the eating of unleavened bread, but 
 the Paschal lamb is not offered any more, as the Temple 
 is destroyed. 
 
 ‘The language you heard in the market was not 
 Hebrew; Hebrew is not spoken any more as a living 
 language. The conversations you heard were carried on 
 in a kind of German or Dutch mixed up with a few 
 Hebrew words. The advertisements in the shop windows 
 were not Hebrew, but German in Hebrew letters. A few 
 Hebrew words are used, such as kosher, “that which is 
 lawful to eat.” Meat of an animal that has died with- 
 out being properly slaughtered, or suffering from any 
 disease, is called tryfer.’ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
376 
 
 THE MANATEE. 
 
 It is very satisfactory to find that the science of natural 
 history gets more and more popular year by year. This 
 fact, I think, is obvious, inasmuch as it now pays to bring — 
 to this country, for purely show purposes, rare and valu- 
 able creatures from even the most distant parts of the 
 world. 
 
 Five manatees have been exhibited in this country. 
 The first was caught in 1866 in the Maroni River, Suri- 
 nam, and Mr. Clarence Bartlett went out on purpose to 
 bring it over. This animal was called by the familiar 
 name of Patcheley, and he became by handling quite 
 tame. Mr. Bartlett was in the habit of going into the 
 water to feed him from a bottle containing milk, of which 
 he was very fond. With a great deal of trouble Mr. Bart- 
 lett brought the animal to this country, but, unfortunately, 
 not alive. 
 
 The name manatee has been given to this animal on 
 account of the hand-like shape of the swimming paws, 
 hence manatee. This curious creature is found in the 
 great waters of South America, especially in the Amazon, 
 and in Africa. It is also called Vacca marina, or sea- 
 cow. I have consulted my old friend Gesner’s Icones 
 
 1 
 «agi. esi 
 os -=s == en 
 
 - 
 
 ot ale ig Naeem 
 
 
 
THE MANATEE. SEL 
 
 Anvmalium (Heidelberg, 1606). He gives a wonderful 
 picture of the sea-cow—meer-ochs in German. Of 
 course Gesner had never seen a manatee or sea-cow; but 
 what easier than to make one from imagination? We 
 find, therefore, a very rude drawing of a cow’s head pro- 
 jecting out of the water. The cow has the mouth open, 
 as if in the act of bellowing, and has a splendid beard and 
 dilated nostyils. 
 
 The next manatee came to the Zoological Gardens in 
 August 1875. This animal was sent over by Mr. R. Swain, 
 from Pin Point, Demerara, South America. The small 
 seal pond was prepared for her reception by filling it with 
 fresh water warmed to a proper temperature. The poor 
 manatee seemed to much enjoy her bath after such a 
 long sea voyage. | 
 
 I do not recollect ever having seen a more interesting 
 animal. The manatee belongs to the class Sirenia, but 
 it is very puzzling to know what she is, whether a pachy- 
 derm or a cetacean. I think she may be said to be a 
 little of both. She is purely an aquatic animal, and 
 when seen in the water her head reminds one of 
 something between a mole and a pig. Her body is ter- 
 minated by a large tail, the shape of a lady’s fan. She 
 swims with it moving it up and down, with the same 
 action as a porpoise, and not sideways like a fish. Take 
 a pig, tie his hind legs and curly tail, and flatten them 
 into a broad, flat. appendage, like a beaver’s tail; turn 
 his fore-feet into paddles. like a turtle’s flippers; cut 
 off his ears, give him valvular nostrils like a seal, re- 
 duce his eyes to one-fourth, and then you will have a 
 manatee. The people in Demerara call it the ‘sea-pig.’ 
 
 
 

 
 378 THE MANATEE. 
 
 The eyelids are very peculiar; they are formed of circular 
 
 muscular rings, like india-rubber rings. The hairy-eared — 
 
 rhinoceros has the same peculiar formation of eyelids. 
 The manatee’s eyes are very minute, and of a dull blue 
 colour. 
 
 Mr. Bartlett was much pleased to find the manatee 
 feed so well; she would eat lettuces and vegetable 
 marrows all day. She got quite tame like a sheep, and 
 would follow Mr. Bartlett round the pond and eat from his 
 hand. It was very interesting to remark the extreme 
 quiet with which this animal, one can hardly say swims, 
 but rather gently glides through the water. Its skin is 
 covered with two kinds of hair, soft and bristly. The 
 appearance of the back reminds one of a prickly pear. 
 - The nostrils are most peculiar; they are situated at the 
 extreme end of the nose, and the two valves seem to rise 
 from the inside, with exactly the same quiet motion as 
 does the hydraulic lift when it rises level with the plat- 
 form at the Great Western station; or, again, its action 
 may be likened to the working of the lid of the nest 
 of the trap-door spider. She was supposed to be about 
 half grown. The length of a full-grown manatee is from 
 fourteen to sixteen feet, and the weight would average 
 about 1,500 lbs. This manatee at the Gardens was seven 
 feet two inches long, and weighed about 4 ewt. 
 
 The price asked for the manatee was 4001. 
 
 The tail contains a considerable quantity of oil; the 
 natives chop it up and expose it to the sun, they then 
 boil it and get oil, which is pure and not rancid. The 
 old pharmacists prescribed this to cool the blood. It is 
 said to taste like oil of almonds. Dr. Murie weighed the 
 
THE MANATEE. 379 
 
 fat of this animal for dissection, and found it weigh twenty- 
 four lbs. ten ounces, about one-nineteenth of the total 
 weight of the animal. 
 
 Another manatee was exhibited at the Westminster 
 Aquarium in 1878. It was captured off an island at the 
 mouth of the Essiquibo River, British Guiana. Since 
 then two young manatees have been exhibited at the 
 Brighton Aquarium. 
 
 The flesh of the manatee is considered a great delicacy ; 
 when roasted it has the taste of pork with a flavour of veal. 
 It is said to retain its freshness much longer than other 
 meat in a tropical climate, where meat generally putrefies 
 in twenty-eight hours, and to be therefore well adapted for 
 salting or pickling, as the salt has time to penetrate the 
 meat before it is spoiled. The Indians hunt the manatee 
 with harpoons. The cry, Mr. Bates reports, is something 
 like the bellowing of an ox. The natives look upon the 
 manatee as a supernatural animal, because it suckles its 
 young as a human mother does her baby. The Indians 
 say the milk is good. 
 
 The manatees are said to be whale-like in habit, and 
 when at home to leap out of the water in a whale-like 
 manner; and they were formerly abundant in the en- 
 trances of the Orinocoand the Amazon. They also ascend 
 the rivers and take up their abode in the fresh-water 
 lakes. Formerly they were very abundant in Cayenne, 
 where the flesh was sold for 3d. per pound; but this 
 caused them to be nearly exterminated, like the unhappy 
 dodo. 
 
 The anatomy of the manatee is another instance of the 
 adaptation of structure to the physical conditions under 
 
 
 
380 THE MANATEE. 
 
 which the animal has to pass its existence. As a writer 
 remarks, ‘The power of swimming which these animals 
 possess not only renders them quite safe from those 
 casualties to which ruminant animals would be subject 
 when the rains and inundations come, but it gives 
 them a facility and a range in their migrations in quest 
 of food which not even the fleetest of the antelopes, or 
 any of the Mammalia which walk upon the earth, can 
 possess. These last are hemmed in by the mountain 
 ridges, by the deserts, and even by the larger rivers, and 
 their march is laborious, and their food is often scanty. 
 The manatee, on the other hand, launched upon the 
 water, buoyant, and at home in that element, can, with- 
 out any fatigue, migrate for thousands of miles whenever 
 such migrations become necessary. In these extended 
 marches they are not restrained even by the sea; for 
 although it is not very probable that vegetable feeders 
 will range the breadth of the ocean, yet it is certain that 
 these animals often pass along the shores to very con- 
 siderable distances. 
 
 ‘They also have this advantage, that they are far 
 more certain of provisions by the way than the walking 
 animals which migrate on land. In tropical countries 
 there is never any barrenness if there is water, whether 
 that water be a lake, a stream, or the sea; and thus the 
 animals in question can always approach the bank and 
 feed whenever a supply is required.’ 
 
 In that admirable book, ‘The Naturalist on the 
 Amazons,’ Mr. Bates gives us the following account :— 
 
 ‘They harpooned a manatee, or Vaccw marina. On 
 this last-mentioned occasion we made quite a holiday; 
 
THE MANATEE. 381 
 
 the canoe was stopped for six or seven hours, and all 
 turned out into the forest to help to skin and cook the 
 animal. The meat was cut into cubical slabs, and each 
 person skewered a dozen or so of those on a long stick. 
 Fires were made, and the spits stuck in the ground, and 
 slanted over the flames to roast. A drizzling rain fell all 
 the time, and the ground around the fires swarmed with 
 stinging ants, attracted by the entrails and slime which 
 were scattered about. The meat had somewhat the 
 taste of very coarse pork ; but the fat, which lies in thick 
 layers between the lean parts, is of a greenish colour, 
 and of a disagreeable, fishy flavour. The animal was a 
 large one, measuring nearly ten feet in length and 
 nine in girth at the broadest part. The manatee is 
 one of the few objects which excite the dull wonder 
 and curiosity of the Indians, notwithstanding its com- 
 monness. 
 
 ‘The fact of its suckling its young at the breast, 
 although an aquatic animal resembling a fish, seems to 
 strike them as something very strange. The animal, 
 as it lay on its back, with its broad rounded head and 
 muzzle, tapering body, and smooth, thick, lead-coloured 
 skin, reminded me of those Egyptian tombs which are 
 made of dark, smooth stone, and shaped to the human 
 figure.’ 
 
 I learn from Kirby’s ‘Bridgewater Treatise’ that 
 Roupell, a traveller in Africa, discovered a species of 
 dugong (the dugong closely resembles the manatee) in 
 the Red Sea, and he is of opinion that it was the skin of 
 this animal with which the Jews were commanded to 
 cover the Tabernacle. 
 
 a 
 
382 THE MANATEE. 
 
 In the ‘Proceedings of the Zoological Society,’ vol. 
 viii. p. 127, is a paper by Dr. Murie on the ‘ Anatomy 
 of the Manatee,’ which I consider one of the best he 
 ever published. The skin, says Dr. Murie, claims for 
 the manatee a kindred with the pachyderms. The an- 
 terior face, and particularly the under side, has a very 
 warty surface and pitted structure. This skin is exces- 
 sively thick and strong. 
 
 The Rev. J. G. Wood writes: ‘So thick and strong 
 is it that the wretched steel of which the native 
 weapons are composed—namely, the machetes, or sword 
 knives—are quite unable to penetrate the hide. Nothing 
 is so effectual a weapon for this service as a common 
 English three-cornered file, which is fastened to a spear- 
 shaft, and pierces through the tough hide with the 
 greatest ease. The skin of the manatee is so thick that 
 it can be cut into strips like the too-celebrated ‘ cow- 
 hide ” of America, which is manufactured from the skin 
 of the hippopotamus.’ 
 
 The upper lip of the manatee is full and cleft in the 
 middle. It is covered inside with tufts of stiff bristles. 
 Dr. Murie considers that these bristles inside the mouth 
 correspond to and are the homologues of the whalebone 
 in the mouth of the whale. These bristles are pre- 
 hensile, as they will, I find, gently clasp one’s fingers 
 when the manatee can be persuaded to take a lettuce 
 from the hand. I have not had an opportunity of 
 examining the skull of a manatee. Professor Owen 
 in his ‘Odontology’ has figured the teeth. He says 
 they are thirty-six in number, nine on each side of 
 both jaws, They are all implanted by two fangs, which 
 
 
 
THE MANATEE. 383 
 
 - enlarge as they descend and bifurcate at the extremity. 
 The professor continues, ‘ The shape, structure, and mode 
 of implantation of the molars of the manatee quite 
 accord with the pachydermal type, and herein more 
 especially with the tapir and dinotherium,’ a very curious 
 extinct animal, about whose habits very little is known. 
 
 
 
384 
 
 THE GREAT SHA-SERPENT. 
 
 In June 1877 the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty 
 received official reports from the officers of the royal 
 yacht ‘Osborne,’ relative to a large marine animal 
 seen off Sicily; the documents were forwarded to the 
 Right Hon. R. A. Cross, Secretary of State for the 
 Home Department, who did me the honour to request my 
 opinion on the matter. This subject being of so much in- 
 terest and importance as bearing on the question of the ex- 
 istence or non-existence of the great sea-snake, I obtained 
 the opinions of Professor Owen, Mr. A. D. Bartlett, of the 
 Zoological Gardens, Captain David Gray, of the whaling 
 ship ‘Eclipse,’ Peterhead, and Mr. Henry Lee. These 
 papers, together with my own opinion, were forwarded to 
 the Lords of the Admiralty, who kindly gave me permis- 
 sion in the interests of science to publish them, together 
 with the evidence of the officers of H.M. yacht ‘ Osborne.’ 
 
 Commander Pearson, of the Royal yacht ‘ Osborne,’ in 
 forwarding the accounts of the three officers of that yacht, 
 who saw the sea monster off the coast of Sicily on June 
 2, 1877, writes:—‘ I myself saw the fish through a tele- 
 scope, but at too great a distance (about 400 yards) to 
 be able to give a detailed description; but I distinctly 
 saw the seal-shaped head, of immense size, large flappers, 
 
 and part of a huge body.’ 
 
 
 
THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT. 385 
 
 Lieutenant Haynes writes, under date, ‘ Royal Yacht 
 <* Osborne,” Gibraltar, June 6 ; ’—‘ On the evening of June 
 2, the sea being perfectly smooth, my attention was first 
 ealled by seeing a ridge of fins above the surface of the 
 water, extending about thirty feet, and varying from five 
 to six feet in height. On inspecting it by means of a 
 telescope, at about one and a half cables’ distance,! I dis- 
 tinctly saw a head, two flappers, and about thirty feet of 
 an animal’s shoulder. The head, as nearly as I could 
 judge, was about six feet thick, the neck narrower, about 
 four to five feet, the shoulder about fifteen feet across, 
 and the flappers each about fifteen feet in length. The 
 movements of the flappers were those of a turtle, and the 
 animal resembled a huge seal, the resemblance being 
 strongest about the back of the head. I could not see 
 the length of the head, but from its crown or top to just 
 below the shoulder (where it became immersed) I should 
 reckon about fifty feet. The tail end I did not see, it 
 being under water—unless the ridge of fins to which my 
 attention was first attracted, and which had disappeared 
 by the time I got a telescope, was really the continuation 
 of the shoulder to the end of the body. The animal’s 
 head was not always above water, but was thrown upwards, 
 remaining above for a few seconds at a time, and then 
 disappearing. There was an entire absence of “ blowing ” 
 or “ spouting.” I herewith enclose a sketch (A) showing 
 the view of the “ ridge of fins,” and (B) of the animal in 
 the act of propelling itself by its two fins.’ 
 
 Lieutenant Douglas M. Forsyth writes, under date, 
 ‘ Royal Yacht “ Osborne,” at sea, June 4, 1877 : ’—‘ At five 
 
 1 A cable’s length is 240 yards, 
 CC 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
388 THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT. 
 
 p-m. on the 2nd inst., while passing Cape St. Vito, north 
 coast of Sicily, I observed a large, black-looking object on 
 the starboard quarter, distant about two cables; and on 
 examining it with a telescope, I found it to be a huge 
 monster, having a head about fifteen to twenty feet in 
 length. The breadth I could not observe. The head 
 was round, and full at the crown. The animal was slowly 
 swimming in a south-easterly direction, propelling itself 
 by means of two large flappers or fins, somewhat in the 
 manner of a seal. I also saw a portion of the body of the 
 animal, and that. part was certainly not under forty-five 
 or fifty feet in length.’ 
 
 Mr. Moore, engineer of the royal yacht ‘ Osborne,’ 
 writes :—‘ When looking over the starboard quarter of 
 the ship, my attention was called by observing an uneven 
 ridge of what appeared to me to be the fins of a fish above 
 the surface of the water, about a cable’s length distance 
 from the ship. They varied in height, as near as I can 
 judge, from seven to eight feet above water, and extended 
 about forty feet along the surface. Not having a telescope 
 with me, I regret Iam unable to give a further descrip- 
 tion.’ 
 
 I submitted these reports to Professor Owen, who sent 
 me the following as his opinion on the matter:—‘I have 
 carefully perused and considered the documents from the 
 Admiralty and Home Office which you submitted to me. 
 First as to Captain Pearson’s letter. The objects or phe- 
 nomena may have been of a nature unknown to the ob-— 
 servers, but were not necessarily caused by a monster, 
 The appearances may not have been caused by a “ fish.” 
 The expression “ seal shaped head,” “ flappers,” &c., denote 
 
 
 
 
 
H 
 
 THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT. 389 
 
 rather a cetacean than a “ fish ” or “ monster ;” but, viewed 
 at the distance given, the ideas thereby excited and ex- 
 pressed are of no help or value to the naturalist. Secondly, 
 as to Lieutenant Haynes’ letter:—Phenomena noted 
 through a telescope, at the distance given, by one not 
 conversant with natural history, are very seldom available 
 to one who is; the present case is no exception. The 
 period during which the object was watched, or during 
 which uninterrupted observation of the phenomena was 
 made, should have been noted, in order to found an 
 opinion of the bearing of Lieutenant Haynes’ remarks as 
 to the motion of the animal’s head. Thirdly, as to Lieu- 
 tenant Forsyth’s letter:—A. seal propels itself chiefly by 
 its hind pair of flippers, which stretch backward beyond 
 the tail, to part of which they are attached. Fourthly, 
 as to Mr. Moore’s letter :—Compare this with Lieutenant 
 Forsyth’s statement, and with Lieutenant Haynes’ state- 
 ment. 
 
 ‘The discrepancies in the records of the watchers of 
 the same phenomena show the difficulty of exact obser- 
 vation at the distances and under the circumstances of 
 the case, both ship and object or objects being on the 
 move; and remarks thereon by observers not conversant 
 with natural history, and so situated, preclude the forma- 
 tion of any opinion worth recording of the nature of the 
 object or objects causing the phenomena as interpreted 
 by the foregoing witnesses. 
 
 ‘But although the statements and terms applied may 
 be insufficient to enable the naturalist to recognise the 
 subject thereof, they by no means afford ground for con- 
 cluding that what was seen was afforded by an object 
 
390 THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT. 
 
 unknown and unrecorded in natural history. There are 
 no grounds for calling it a “sea monster.” I beg to call 
 attention to the paragraph concluding the Manual of 
 Zoology in the Admiralty Manual of Scientific Enquiry, 
 12mo, 3rd ed., 1859 :—‘* When an object is seen afloat, 
 and attracts notice by its magnitude or other peculiarity, 
 and is not captured, its nearest approach to the ship, its 
 mode, course, and rate of progression, and the parts 
 actually recognisable should be noted at the time with 
 the utmost accuracy. If practicable, a boat should be put 
 
 off for close observation and possible capture. If the ob-- 
 
 server nas not the zoological knowledge, or the oppor- 
 tunity for exact inspection, requisite for determining the 
 species from tne phenomena, he should abstain from 
 giving the object any special name. Supposing it to be 
 an animal, a shot fired, if even it do not hit, may so 
 alarm the creature as to cause some sudden movement 
 which may reveal more of its true nature.” ’ 
 
 Mr. Bartlett’s opinion is as follows :— 
 
 ‘In undertaking to write my opinion upon the state- 
 
 ments made in this report, I must endeavour as far as pos- 
 
 sible to divest myself of the knowledge of all previous” 
 
 accounts that have from time to time been published upon 
 this subject. 
 
 ‘Firstly, I think few men holding themselves as 
 honourable and trustworthy officers in Her Majesty’s Ser- 
 vice would risk their high position by any false or fabri- 
 cated story of this nature. I will, therefore, take it for 
 granted that they described to the best of their ability 
 what they saw. 
 
 ‘Secondly, I have now to consider what appears to me 
 
 
 
 
 
= a 
 
 THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT. 391 
 
 one very simple matter. All persons, by continual prac- 
 tice in the use of their eyes on land and at sea, acquire 
 a great power in distinguishing and recognising the 
 objects they have constantly under observation, and per- 
 sons accustomed to the sea are most remarkable in this, 
 to them, most important matter; men always on the 
 look-out notice the smallest as well as more important 
 objects, during the long periods they pass watching for 
 something to turn up, and are not likely to mistake the 
 ordinary and common occurrence of the appearance of 
 seals, porpoises, sharks, or whales, for some previously un- 
 seen or unknown monster of the deep. 
 
 ‘I am therefore willing to admit and believe that some 
 large animal or animals have presented themselves within 
 sight of the officers of the “ Osborne.” 
 
 ‘My difficulty is to offer some explanation, and ascribe 
 to some kind of animal the description laid before me. It 
 is evidently not a serpent. According to all known species 
 of serpent, none of them have fins or flippers or any exter- 
 nal organs used for swimming, nor does the description 
 agree with any of the seals or sea-lions, as no animal of 
 this kind has fins on the back, nor do they use the eave 
 pers in front while swimming. 
 
 ‘Sketch (8) at first looks like a monster turtle, but 
 sketch (A) at once dispels this idea. 
 
 ‘T have now to consider in what respect it resembles the 
 whales and porpoises, and find it quite impossible to 
 pelieve that men who must be well acquainted with the 
 movements and frequent appearance of these creatures 
 could so distort and magnify any of the known kinds into 
 the object they have described. 
 
392 THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT. 
 
 ‘Lastly, I come to the sharks. The largest specimens 
 known fail, however, to give me any hope of satisfying 
 myself or any one else that any number of sharks could 
 have led to the report furnished by the officers of the 
 ‘¢ Osborne.” 
 
 ‘The description fails entirely in so many important 
 points, that one cannot help being struck with the dis- 
 similar appearances presented. 
 
 ‘I may remark that the fins upon the back give 
 strength to the idea that sharks were the nearest approach 
 to the creature or creatures seen; but the head and neck 
 described at once dispel the thought that any kind of 
 shark could, by any possibility, be mistaken for what was 
 seen. 
 
 ‘That the sketch (A) represents a sgt of fins like 
 the back fins of sharks; supposing two or three sharks 
 to be in company, would easily be concluded, did not the 
 great height (six or eight feet out of the water) at 
 once dispose of the probability of any known shark hay- 
 ing fins of these dimensions.! 
 
 ‘TI now feel called upon to answer the question, What 
 was it? 
 
 ‘IT must, in reply, admit that Iam unable to identify 
 the figures and description with any known animal. With 
 the dimensions given, it is most conclusive—in fact, proof 
 positive—that. no known species of animal was seen, the 
 dimensions being so extraordinary that they admit of no 
 doubt but that the creature is entirely unknown to 
 
 1 There are Finner whales and large grampuses with a dorsal fin 
 from four to six feet high. See Dewhurst, Cetacea. The Selache, or 
 basking shark, also has a back fin between five and six feet high, corre- 
 sponding with the dimensions given by Lieutenant Haynes. 
 
 
 
 
 
THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT. 393 
 
 naturalists. But I fully believe in the existence of 
 animals in the deep at present unknown either by 
 specimens or by perfect descriptions ; not only do I accept 
 as true the statements made to the best of the judgment 
 and belief of the parties who have made them, but doubt- 
 less from time to time other wonderful sights have pre- 
 sented themselves, and have remained unrecorded from 
 fear of derision and misbelief; but this, as seen at 400 
 yards on a clear day, appears so perfectly easy of observa- 
 tion that I cannot doubt the correctness of the statement 
 in sketch (B). 
 
 ‘When we consider the vast extent of the ocean, its 
 great depth, the rocky, cavernous nature of the bottom— 
 of many parts of which we know really nothing,—who can 
 say what may have been hidden for ages, and may still 
 remain a mystery for generations yet to come? for we 
 have evidence on land that there exist some of the largest 
 mammals, probably by thousands, of which only one 
 solitary individual has been caught or brought to notice. 
 I allude to the hairy-eared two-horned rhinoceros (R. 
 lasvotis ), captured in 1868 at Chittagong (where it was 
 found stranded in the mud), and now known as an in- 
 habitant of the Zoological Gardens. 
 
 ‘T could find other instances, but content myself by 
 stating that this animal remains unique, and no part or 
 portion was previously known to exist In any museum at 
 home orabroad. We have here an instance of the existence 
 of a species of rhinoceros, as large nearly as the hippo- 
 potamus, found on the continent of India, of which 
 country we in England are supposed to know so much, 
 where for many years collectors and naturalists have 
 
 
 
394 THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT. 
 
 worked and published lists of all the animals met with, 
 and here they have hitherto failed to meet with or obtain 
 any knowledge of this great beast. | 
 
 ‘May I not, therefore, presume that, in the vast and 
 mighty ocean, animals, perhaps of nocturnal habits (and 
 therefore never, except by some extraordinary accident, | 
 forced into sight), may exist, whose form may resemble 
 the extinct reptiles whose fossil remains we find in such 
 abundance. i 
 
 ‘The form indicated and described strongly resembles 
 some of the extinct reptilian characters, and reminds one 
 of the models of fish-lizards and other animals described 
 and constructed by Waterhouse Hawkins, under the 
 direction of Professor Owen, and exhibited in the grounds 
 of the Crystal Palace at Sydenham ; and, as far as I am 
 able to judge from the evidence before me, I have reason 
 to believe that aquatic reptiles of vast size have been seen 
 and described by those persons who have endeavoured to 
 explain what they have witnessed. 
 
 ‘One thing is certain, that many well-known reptiles 
 have the power of remaining for long periods (months, in 
 fact) at the bottom, under water or imbedded in soft mud, 
 being so provided with organs of circulation and respira- 
 tion that they need not come to the surface to breathe. 
 The large crocodiles, alligators, and turtles have this 
 power, and I see no valid reason to doubt but that there 
 may and do exist, in the unknown regions of the ocean, 
 creatures so constructed. . 
 
 ‘It may be argued that, if such animals still live, 
 they must from time to time die, and their bodies would 
 float, and their carcasses would be found, or parts of them 
 
 
 
‘fie 
 CE 
 
 THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT. 395 
 
 would wash on shore. To this I say, however reasonable 
 such arguments may appear, that with most animals that 
 die or are killed in the water, they sink at first to the 
 bottom, where they are likely to have the flesh and soft 
 parts devoured by other animals, such as crustacea, fishes, 
 &c., &e.; and sinking in the deep, the bones, being 
 heavier than the other parts, may soon become imbedded, 
 and thus concealed from sight. 
 
 ‘In conclusion, I cannot shut my eyes to the many 
 reports and statements made from time immemorial by 
 persons far above suspicion of fraud or deception, and 
 whose lives have been, for the most part, spent at sea, 
 and whose knowledge of the appearances of all marine 
 animals commonly seen entitles them to our most serious 
 consideration. 
 
 ‘These more recent instances recorded by honest and 
 trustworthy persons satisfy me that .it is not only unfair, 
 but unwise, and a great mistake, to disregard and throw 
 overboard, as it were, the evidence brought by these dif- 
 ferent observers, simply because we cannot at present 
 define exactly, by specimens or otherwise, the exact nature 
 of the creatures that have been observed.’ 
 
 The following is Mr. Henry Lee’s opinion :-— 
 
 ‘The evidence of “great sea-serpents,” or other so- 
 ealled “*marine monsters,” having been occasionally seen, 
 is such as would be regarded as valid and cogent in any 
 court of justice. The witnesses are trustworthy as to 
 character, and competent by training and experience. 
 The officers of Her Majesty’s Navy are incapable of com- 
 bining together to officially and intentionally promulgate 
 falsehood; and they and the seamen under their command 
 
396 THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT, 
 
 are too much accustomed to the sights of the sea to be > 
 eusily misled, either to greatly exaggerate the dimensions 
 of an animal in view, or to be so entirely deceived by 
 appearances as not to recognise one already known to 
 them. It appears to me, therefore, that, with such testi- 
 mony before us, incredulity (which is more frequently 
 than credence the result of want of knowledge) is un- 
 justifiable; and that the statements and descriptions of 
 such witnesses ought to be frankly accepted and carefully 
 considered, with a view to satisfactory explanation, if that 
 be possible. 
 
 ‘It should be remembered that the existence of gi- 
 gantic cuttle-fishes was popularly disbelieved until within 
 the past five or six years, during which period several 
 specimens—some of them fifty feet in total length—have 
 been taken, and all doubts upon that subject have been 
 removed. 
 
 ‘In more than one case the appearance of the “ sea- 
 monsters ” described by masters of merchant vessels 
 almost exactly accords with that of these great squids. 
 These decapods are pelagic in their habits, and must not 
 be confounded, as they too often are, with the octopods, 
 which are rock-dwellers. 
 
 ‘In another case I agree with Professor Owen and 
 Captain Gray, that the appearance of a whale attacked by 
 a sea-serpent, as seen by the crew of the barque “ Pauline,” 
 on July 8, 1875, in lat. 5° 13’ S., long9367 Weer ae 
 possibly be attributed to the movements of two whales 
 rolling over and over. But the animal described by Com- 
 mander Pearson and the officers of the Royal yacht 
  (Ysborne,” and that seen by Captain McQuhae of H.M.S8. 
 
 
 
THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT. 397 
 
 “ Dedalus” in 1848, do not come within the scope of 
 either of these suppositions. Lieutenant Haynes and 
 Mr. Forsyth report that the former had flappers fifteen 
 feet long, the movements of which were like those of 
 a turtle; and Captain McQuhae says of the latter that 
 it kept its head, which was, “without any doubt,” that 
 of a snake, constantly about four feet above the surface 
 of the sea; that there was, at the very least, sixty. feet 
 of the animal @ fleur deau, and that it passed so near 
 to the vessel’s quarter that, although it was swimming 
 at the rate of from twelve to fifteen miles an hour, if 
 it had been a man of his acquaintance he could easily 
 have recognised his features with the naked eye. Neither 
 whales nor sharks use their pectoral fins, or flippers, to 
 swim with—their sole organ of propulsion is the tail; 
 neither do they uplift out of water a head like that of a 
 snake. I believe, therefore, that in both of these in- 
 stances an animal has been seen which is either totally 
 unknown to science, or which has hitherto been believed 
 to be extinct. 
 
 ‘Other appearances described cannot be explained 
 away as having been produced by sharks, whales, seals, 
 cuttles, ribbon-fish, or logs of wood covered with barnacles 
 and seaweed; and to insist on attributing them to one of 
 these, or some other familiar object, is to assume that the 
 stay-at-home naturalist has perfect cognizance of every 
 existing murine animal of large size, and that the sea- 
 going eye-witness is so inexperienced and uninstructed 
 that his assertion that what he saw was none of these is 
 worthless. I cannot regard such an assumption in either 
 case as warrantable. 
 
 
 
328 THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT, 
 
 ‘During the deep-sea dredgings of H.M.S. “ Light- 
 ning,” “ Porcupine,” and “ Challenger,” many new species of 
 Mollusca, and others which had been supposed to have been 
 extinct ever since the Chalk epoch, were brought to light ; 
 
 and by the deep-sea trawlings of the last-mentioned ship 
 
 there were drawn up from great depths fishes of unknown 
 species, and which could not exist near the surface, owing 
 to the distention and rupture of their air-bladder when 
 removed from the pressure of deep water. 
 
 ‘I therefore think it by no means impossible—first, 
 that there may be gigantic marine animals unknown to 
 science, having their ordinary habitat in the great depths 
 of the sea, only occasionally coming to the surface, and 
 perhaps avoiding habitually the light of day; and, second, 
 that.there may still exist, though supposed to have been 
 long since extinct, some of the old sea-reptiles whose 
 fossil remains tell of their magnitude and habits, or others 
 of species unknown even to paleontologists. 
 
 ‘The evidence is, to my mind, conclusive that enor- 
 mous animals, with which zoologists are at present un- 
 acquainted, exist in the “‘ great and wide sea; ” and I look 
 forward hopefully to the capture of one or more of them, 
 and the settlement of this vexed question.’ 
 
 Such were the opinions I received. For many years 
 past I have taken the greatest interest in the reports of 
 so-called sea-snakes. There are certainly snakes in the 
 sea. These are generally very poisonous. They can be 
 known from land snakes by having a flat tail for the pur- 
 pose of swimming. I am, however, myself by no means 
 a believer in the so-called ‘ great sea-snake.’ 
 
 If such an animal existed, upon what can it subsist ? 
 
 
 
 wget A 6 RES Ley} . ert as = Pears 
 
 —w 
 
 
 
 
THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT. 399 
 
 Where does it live? How does it multiply? and above 
 all, how is it that the remains, especially the bones, are 
 never found? Dead whales and whales’ bones are often 
 found, why not also the remains of the ‘sea-snakes’ (so 
 called) if they had any existence. 
 
 According to Professor Owen’s lectures, which I at- 
 tended years ago, unknown monsters at sea have, when 
 boats have been lowered to examine them, turned out to 
 be—First, small whales or porpoises ; second, seals; third 
 turtles, swimming respectively in Indian file one after the 
 other, probably in the act of migrating. Congers or a 
 line of congers may also have given origin to the story. 
 
 Some ‘sea-snakes’ have turned out to be logs of 
 wood, more or less covered with seaweed and barnacles, 
 or else trees floating with the roots uppermost. These 
 objects moving with the rise and fall of the waves would 
 give the appearance of a living animal with a mane. 
 
 The Gymmetrus, or ‘ Banks’ oar-fish,’ as well as the 
 ribbon-fish, is also liable to be taken for a sea-snake. A 
 bone, supposed to be that of a great sea-snake, was found 
 in Bermuda. It turned out to be the body spine of a 
 gymnetrus. 
 
 I have received from Nice a specimen of a ribbon- 
 fish. A coloured cast, as well as the specimen itself, 
 can be inspected in my ‘Museum of Economic Fish Cul- 
 ture,’ South Kensington. 
 
 In June 1877 a lady at Tenby saw an object which 
 she took to be a kind of sea-serpent. In course of 
 conversation with this lady, I came to the conclusion 
 that what she saw was a very large octopus or cuttle- 
 fish, swimming as it generally does, viz., with the pear- 
 
’ 
 400 THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT. 
 
 shaped body going front, the long tentacles following on 
 behind. In my Museum of Fish Culture, South Ken- 
 sington, is a model of a huge cuttle cut out in wood, 
 quite large enough to give the appearance seen by this 
 _ lady. 
 
 In September 1872 I received through the Duke of 
 Marlborough, an account of a ‘ sea-serpent’ seen in Loch 
 Hourn, Scotland, on the 20th and 21st August 1872, by 
 the Rev. David Twopeny, late vicar of Stockbury, Kent, 
 and by the Rev. John Macrae, late minister of Glenelg, 
 Invernesshire, and his two daughters. 
 
 In describing this monster Mr. Twopeny says :— 
 
 ‘We saw it repeatedly for two days together in the 
 Sound of Sleat, between Skye and the mainland, and in 
 the opening of Loch Hourn. The weather was still and 
 hot, and the sea like glass, and it is in such hot still days 
 in August that it is described as being seen in the large 
 Norwegian fiords, not often in the open sea. The head 
 always appeared first, then the part next to the head, and 
 then the rest, one bit after another, to the end. The 
 greatest number of these convolutions, as the books call 
 them, was eight including the head; they always ap- 
 peared regularly, one after the other, beginning next the 
 head, but when they disappeared they all sank together 
 leaving the head visible. It appeared to be basking and 
 often moved slowly, but sometimes with great rapidity, 
 and when at the most rapid rate, these convolutions dis- 
 appeared. We had three binocular glasses on board, and | 
 four people capable of observing. 
 
 ‘When first we saw it, it was going on at a very 
 leisurely rate, and we saw it capitally, when it suddenly 
 
 
 
THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT. 401 
 
 turned and came towards us ; but when at about 100 yards 
 (as Mr. M. computed, and he is a very accurate observer), 
 it turned off. It was never nearer to us thanthis. They 
 were getting the cutter on with sweeps both days, and it 
 repeatedly came towards us, as if attracted by the rowing. 
 Once on the second day it rushed along at a great rate, 
 scarcely any of it visible, but making a tremendous rush 
 through the water, and the noise was quite audible on 
 board, the sea being quite still, and no wind. As to the 
 size, it must be a good deal guesswork, but if one of the 
 convolutions was six feet (and I can hardly think they 
 could be less), and the intervals between the same, and 
 six feet under water at the tail, it would be ninety-six 
 feet. Many of the Norwegian accounts compute it to be 
 considerably longer. They speak of its appearance being 
 like a string of barrels, and that is just what this looked 
 like. When I saw it the second day a good way off in 
 the opening of Loch Hourn, I thought that if there was 
 a vessel of that length it would be a large one. From 
 that point it was on the second day more or less within 
 sight of us till dusk, going on northwards, as we were 
 going, towards the Kyle Rhea Skye Ferry; and we heard 
 the next day that it passed the ferry with a rushing sound, 
 which was heard by the people on shore. This creature 
 is totally different from the animal which Captain 
 McQuhae saw in 1848, and which he declared was a sea- 
 serpent, but Professor Owen believed it to be a large seal. 
 There is scarcely a probability but that thisisaserpent. I 
 imagine it raises its back to sun itself, and then straightens 
 itself to go quickly. As it was approaching us at the nearest 
 I plainly saw the sea running off its back and the back 
 DD 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT.. 403 
 
 of its head, as it does from a low flat rock which has been 
 submerged by a wave. F. M. was frightened out of her 
 wits, thinking it was coming down upow us; and between 
 that and the dangers of the sea—for she is always fright- 
 ened in a boat—she insisted afterwards: on being landed 
 at half-past two in the morning, and walked home by 
 herself in the moonlight, thirteen miles over wild moun- 
 tain tracks. Mr. M., who is a great naturalist, is greatly 
 interested about the creature. He has all his life been 
 going about on these seas, but never saw or heard any- 
 thing of the kind before. He knew Mr. Maclean, the 
 minister of Eig, who saw it off Coll in June 1808, and 
 says he was quite a man to be believed. They wellsknow 
 all the sea creatures here, whales, porpoises,. seals, and 
 say there is not the slightest resemblance in them to this 
 animal; and I have seen porpoises repeatedly, and very 
 different they are. 
 
 ‘Last summer Mr. M. heard that some unknown 
 animal was rushing about Loch Derich with great rapidity 
 for several days, and he imagines it must have been such 
 a one as we saw. 
 
 ‘A word more about “the beast,” as we call it here. 
 F. thought that the tumult of the water about the 
 neck was occasioned by a mane lashing about, and it might 
 well have been that, as far as the appearance of the water 
 went, but I saw no mane. The head appeared flattish, 
 and I saw distinctly under the chin, as shown in the 
 sketch. We could not see the eye. Mr. M. says very 
 truly, that I shall get the curves more accurately by draw- 
 ing the whole of the curves, under water and all. In the 
 sketch they are misshapen, and a little too high. These 
 
 pDzZ 
 
404 THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT. 
 
 convolutions rose easily, and not with a jerk— sometimes 
 three, then four—always one after the other, lying next the 
 head. The largest number I counted was six. Mr. M., 
 who is very accurate, at one time counted eight, including 
 the head. On the second day, in the latter part of the 
 day, as we were going home in the Sound of Sleat, and the 
 beast at a distance, going about and about, but still the 
 same way, two of our party were both positive that they 
 saw a back fin stick up, when not a very great part of the 
 creature was visible. I did not see it, for I was perfectly 
 tired out, and not any longer observing. If the fin exists, 
 it must at other times have been in one of the submerged 
 parts. I am very curious about this creature, and should 
 much like to know what other people have seen. The first 
 day Mr. Lillingstone’s large schooner yacht was becalmed 
 all day in the Sound with us, that is, from one to ‘two 
 miles off, and I think the people on board must have seen 
 it. They had with them a steam launch, a noisy concern, 
 with which they were always going about, and that may 
 have kept it off. 
 
 ‘At the distance we saw it the colour appeared black. 
 When the beast was first seen Kate M. said that the dark 
 ridges were waves caused by the motion of the animal, 
 such as might be in the wake of a steamer; but she soon 
 abandoned this opinion, and I was satisfied, as I looked 
 at it, that this was perfectly impossible. The creature was 
 to the north of us, opposite to the sun, which was shining 
 strongly at half-past twelve. No wave could have looked 
 like that on the light side, with the sun shining upon it ; 
 nor do I believe a wave could have been nearly so black 
 with the sun shining behind it. The moment the least frag- 
 
 
 
THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT. 405 
 
 ment appeared, it looked inky black, like the head, as dark 
 as a black slug, and totally different from anything in 
 the water; and I was quite sure that no wave, even in 
 shadow, could have looked like that. The next evening 
 we had a ripple in the still sea in long dark lines between — 
 us and the sun. I was curious to see how far the creature 
 _ would have been deeper in tone than these lines if he had 
 passed among them then; but the only time he appeared 
 just then was when he passed with an audible rush; 
 scarcely any part of him was visible, and that had water 
 rushing overit. Throughout, whenever he appeared, there 
 was the same blackness, like a black slug, different from 
 anything around. Two gentlemen have been here, from 
 Fig, who have been cruising about the Hebrides for several 
 weeks. One of them said that when he lived in Eig, he 
 believed he had struck a thing of this kind; but Mr. M., 
 on his describing it, said he had no doubt it was a basking 
 shark, which is seen here sometimes. That creature has no 
 power of raising its back in curved ridges like this.’ ! 
 
 A case was published in the papers in 1875 giving an 
 account of a ‘ great sea-snake’ attacking a whale. My 
 friend Captain Gray tells me that this appearance of the 
 snake curled round the whale was doubtless due to the 
 appearance and reappearance of the fins of a large whale, 
 rolling over and over. The hunchback whale has very long 
 fins, ten to fifteen feet in length, and sometimes when 
 they are playing about, they would present the same 
 appearance as was shown in the ‘ Illustrated London News’ 
 some time since, in which was represented a serpent at~ 
 tacking a whale. 
 
 1 An account of this appearance was also published by Rev. J. 
 Macrae and Rev. D. Twopeny in the Zvologist for May 1873. 
 

 
 = = 
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 ; 
 
 YaLVYM AHL WAOGVY YNILODLCOYd SNIA HLIM MUVHS PNINSVA ‘ey “OT 
 
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 OMIT SFL Uh 
 
THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT. 407 
 
 I must now give my opinion on the sea monster as 
 seen by the officers of the yacht ‘Osborne.’ That they 
 observed portions of some living creature or creatures is 
 quite evident, but query, What was its or their true nature ? 
 
 Possibly I may be wrong, but my theory is that the 
 phenomenon was caused by three or four basking sharks 
 swimming ina line one behind the other. The dorsal 
 and caudal or tail fins of these huye fish projecting above 
 the surface of the water might give the appearance shown 
 in the drawing opposite, which I have had made as an illus- 
 tration of my theory. It is a sketch of the basking shark 
 now at the British Museum. This specimen is twenty- 
 eight feet long, and the skin weighed over one ton. The 
 height of the dorsal fin was five feet three inches, length 
 of upper lobe of tail five feet nine inches, length of pec- 
 toral fin along anterior margin five feet three inches.! I 
 have drawn a line to show that if the fish were on the 
 surface of the water the dorsal and tail fins B and E would 
 project five or six feet into the air.” 
 
 1 Land and Water, vol. xx.,p. 177. The fins have now somewhat 
 shrunk. 
 
 2 The basking shark derives this name from its habit of remaining 
 at the surface of the water almost motionless basking in the sun. It is 
 sometimes called the sail-fish, from the ‘sail-like aspect of its dorsal 
 fin, which projects high out of water’ (Wood’s Natural History). It 
 is often found in the Mediterranean. Spallanzani describes several 
 kinds, and says they are found of great size in the summer in the Straits 
 of Messina. Sometimes it is seen on the English coast; the British 
 Museum specimen was cast ashore near Ventnor in March 1875. They 
 occur frequently off the west coast of Ireland, especially on a bank 
 
 about a hundred miles west of Clew Bay, Ireland, where on sunny days 
 in April and May they appear in great numbers, their dorsal fins being 
 seen at a distance rising several feet out of water as they lie motionless 
 basking in the sun (F. Buckland’s Natural History of British Fishes, 
 p. 216). Cuvier says they sometimes attain a length of more than 
 
408 THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT. 
 
 The grampus and sword-fish are not uncommon in the 
 seas near Sicily, and a herd of either of these may possibly 
 have given origin to the phenomenon. I agree with my 
 friend Mr. Bartlett, that the captain and officers of the 
 ‘ Osborne’ deserve the thanks of naturalists and the public 
 for giving their reports of this marine phenomenon. 
 
 When at Peterhead, on the Herring Inquiry, August 
 28, 1877, I had a long interview with my friend Gray. 
 Captain Gray has had upwards of thirty years’ experience 
 in killing whales and seals in the Greenland seas and 
 Baffin’s Bay. He informs me that a full-grown whalebone 
 whale (Balena mysticetus) would measure fifty to fifty- 
 five feet in length. Scoresby, writing in 1830, mentions 
 a whale fifty-eight feet in length. This was the longest 
 he killed among 300 individuals. Gray says the appear- 
 ance in the second figure given by the officer of the 
 ‘Osborne’ closely represents a Greenland whale going 
 away from the spectator. The whale however has not the 
 power to bring up his fins as represented; neither are they 
 of the same shape, or half the size. A whale’s fin re- 
 sembles a human hand with a mitten on. <A whale 
 propels himself entirely by his tail, and uses his fins 
 only for rising to the surface by spreading them out, 
 at other times they lie close along its sides. ‘I 
 have seen,’ Captain Gray subsequently wrote, ‘the 
 movements of the Greenland whale, the Rorqual, and 
 the Nordcaper, or Hunchback, below the water as closely 
 and as distinctly as I could wish, and none of them use 
 
 thirty feet French, or thirty-two English feet (Régne Animal, vol. i., 
 p. 600). One caught at Hastings in 1808, and described by Sir E. Home 
 (Phil. Trans., vol. xcix., p. 206), was thirty-six feet six inches long. 
 
 
 

 
 THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT. 409 
 
 their fins in propelling themselves. If you have seen 
 the porpoise in the Brighton Aquarium, you will have 
 seen all the movements on a small scale. I have fre- 
 quently seen whales show their fins, but at those times 
 they were lying on their side, or rolling over and over. 
 We constantly see the Nordcaper off Peterhead during 
 the herring fishery season. I have noticed them within a 
 quarter of a mile of the shore lying on their side, thrashing 
 with their long fins.’ As regards the distance mentioned 
 in the report, viz., about 400 yards, he considers that a 
 whale-boat could have performed the distance easily in 
 three minutes in smooth water, and that at this distance 
 objects could be clearly made out by a good telescope. 
 He has, however, known experienced seamen on board the 
 ‘Eclipse’ make mistakes in the recognition of objects 
 floating in the water. Thus one officer of the ship once 
 mistook a walrus for a whale, although the walrus was 
 quite close to the ship; and an experienced seaman mis- 
 took a seal for a whale. Over and over again he has 
 known a narwhal mistaken for a whale. He thinks the 
 observers of the phenomenon from the deck of the 
 ‘Osborne ’ must have seen more animals than one going 
 together, and showing different parts of their bodies. 
 
 No single animal, recent or fossil, known to science 
 
 ? 
 
 affords any analogy to the ‘ ridge of fins;’ while the ap- 
 pearance closely corresponds with what must be a not 
 uncommon sight off the coast of Sicily, or elsewhere, 
 where basking sharks abound. 
 
 Several kinds of whale are met with in the, Mediter- 
 ranean, though their appearance there is doubtless 
 
 becoming more rare. The Spermaceti whales, which 
 
410 THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT, 
 
 attain a length of 50 to 100 feet, are found there (Cuvier, 
 ‘Régne Animal,’ vol. i., p. 342). Also a Rorqual, called 
 by Cuvier ‘le Rorqual de la Méditerranée.’ A Rorqual 75 
 feet in length was stranded near St. Cyprien, Eastern 
 Pyrenees, in 1828. 
 
 Whales are sometimes found in company with basking 
 sharks, and also pursuing or pursued by other Cetacea. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Fie. 16. GREENLAND WHALE SWIMMING AWAY. 
 From a sketch supplied by Captain Gray. 
 
 Sonnini mentions a basking shark 31 feet long, caught 
 six leagues from Boulogne in 1802, after a fight for 36 
 hours with a whale 85 feet long, which afterwards floated 
 off towards England. The Spermaceti whales, especially 
 the small-eyed Cachalot (Physeter microps), pursue and 
 attack the smaller Cetacea, tearing them with their crooked - 
 teeth, while other species of whales are attacked by the 
 grampus or sword-fish. 
 
 It is quite possible, therefore, that among a shoal of 
 basking sharks in the Mediterranean a whale should 
 appear rolling over and thrashing with its fins, which 
 would afford a not improbable explanation of the pheno- — 
 mena observed.' 
 
 ' Commander Macdonald, of the ‘ Vigilant’ fishery cruiser, offered 
 another similar explanation as follows :—‘ Sketch A, with its ridge of 
 
 
 

 
 THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT. © 4ll 
 
 As to the sea-serpent of Loch Hourn, I candidly 
 confess that I am at a loss to come to any definite con- 
 clusion. 
 
 In the ‘ Naturalist’s Library,’ vol. viii, ‘Marine 
 Amphibia,’ is given an engraving of a marine sea-snake 
 by Pontoppidan, Bishop of Berg, and the drawing now 
 before the reader is amazingly like the drawing by 
 Pontoppidan. 
 
 In Topsel’s edition of Gesner, 1658, there is a drawing 
 of the ‘ sea-snake,’ and in this instance again the animal 
 is very much like the two mentioned before. Gesner 
 says, ‘ There are also in the Suevian Ocean, or Baltic, sea- 
 serpents of thirty or forty feet in length, whose picture is 
 thus described as it was taken by Olaus Magnus, and he 
 further writes that these do never harm any man until 
 they be provoked.’ 
 
 ‘It is, therefore, evident to my mind that the coast of 
 Norway and the north of Scotland are occasionally visited 
 by a living creature, which, for want of a better name, is 
 called ‘The Great Sea Snake.’ The theory that this 
 phenomenon is caused by seals or porpoises swimming in 
 a row seems to be fairly upset by the account given above. 
 I think, after great consideration, it might have been a 
 
 nine fins, said to be about thirty feet long, I take to be a fair represen- 
 tation of a small shoal of ca’ing or bottle-nose whales (they are not 
 unknown off Sicily). I have frequently seen a similar ridge of fins, 
 and quite as uniform, extending not only thirty feet, but three hundred 
 yards and more. With respect to sketch B, I have several times wit- 
 nessed what I believe to be an explanation of it. Every variety of the 
 whale known on the coast of the United Kingdom, when about to pair, 
 swim slowly in pairs shoulder to shoulder for some time, and when 
 going away from the observer the dorsal fins appear lying over at an 
 angles of 45°, swaying slightly up and dcwn. When in this position 
 
412 THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT. 
 
 Gymnetrus, Banks’s oar-fish (Regalecus Banksw), figured 
 in Couch, vol. ii., p. 250. He says the largest was ob- 
 tained at Kiess, near Wick; it measured fifteen feet and 
 about a half in length, and as it had been injured much 
 about the head, probably more. Its greatest depth was 
 one foot two inches, its thickness three inches and a half, 
 the weight one hundred and eighty-two pounds. There 
 is, however, a point which must not be lost sight of in 
 bringing this theory to bear. A gymnetrus, or a conger, 
 when swimming would generally move its body in curves 
 horizontally with the surface of the water, whereas in the 
 drawing now before us, and the other two drawings above 
 mentioned, the curves are represented with perpendicular 
 motion.! Now, flat fish have this action, and it may be 
 therefore that the living phenomenon was a ground fish. 
 The Ichthyosaurus and Plesiosaurus, now fossil in the lias 
 formation, must from their anatomy have swum after the 
 manner of porpoises. We have not yet caught this Scotch 
 sea-snake, whatever it may be; all that we can, however, 
 deduce is that from its motion it is a ground and nota sur- 
 face beast, and I do not think it could be a cetacean, be- 
 cause, be it well remarked, there is no record or any single 
 account of its having blow-holes, or of its spouting. I shall 
 both whales may readily be mistaken for one of great breadth, the 
 dorsal fins resembling side flappers; and when the head of one is 
 slightly elevated above the other, it might fairly produce the impression 
 
 “conveyed by the sketch, especially on a person who saw the phenomenon 
 for the first time.’ 
 
 1 Couch describes the Gymnetrus as rearing its head and crest above 
 water, and moving sometimes with a lateral and sometimes with a 
 vertical undulating motion; its size ‘falling very far short indeed of 
 the famous sea-serpent, but conveying the impression that the latter is 
 a species of this same order of fishes.’ 
 
 
 
THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT. 413 
 
 conclude by giving a catalogue of the sea-snakes, according 
 to the ‘ Naturalist’s Library,’ 1839. 
 
 1. A specimen stranded on the island of Stronsay, 
 one of the Orkneys, 1808. The bones were deposited in 
 the Museum of the University of Edinburgh, and in the 
 Royal College of Surgeons, and were determined by Sir E. 
 Home to be the bones of a basking shark. This beast is 
 said to have measured 56 feet in length, and 12 in 
 circumference, but Sir E. Home considered this measure- 
 ment uncertain. (‘ Phil. Trans.,’ vol. xcix., p. 213.) 
 
 2. A specimen seen off the island Stonness, no 
 date. 
 
 3. August 1817. Sea-snake seen in the harbour 
 of Gloucester, thirty miles from Boston, America. 
 
 4. 1818. Seen by the fishermen of Sejerstad, in the 
 Folden Fiord, Norway. 
 
 5. July 1819. It appeared off Otursun, Norway. 
 
 6. An animal with a serpent-like head raised two 
 feet above the surface, and thirteen folds, was seen off 
 Nahant, Boston, in August 1819. 
 
 7. In 1822. Again seen off one of the islands of 
 Soroe, near Tinmask, Norway. 
 
 8. May 1833. One seen by three officers of Rifle 
 Brigade, off Halifax. 
 
 9. The sea-serpent again appeared off Nahant, going 
 into Lynn Harbour, Boston, on July 11, 1833. 
 
 10. In the summer of 1837, it was reported near 
 Storfosen, at the Kervang Islands. 
 
 Since then there is the beast seen by Captain 
 McQuhae of the ‘ Dedalus,’ on August 6, 1848. The sea- 
 serpent of Loch Hourn, seen in August 1872; besides the 
 
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 se heroine: seen fon ae) . — in July 1875, and 
 
 the officers of the Osborne? n June 1877. 
 havea dozen or more so-called sea-serpents.! Fan 
 ‘rom the above I think we may conclude that, Grate és 
 ever the sea-serpent may be, it generally appears in the 
 hot months of the year from June to September, and this 
 is all that I have to say about the great sea-snake at the 
 present, wishing from the bottom of my heart that some 
 one would catch it. I need not say how delighted I should 
 be to have the job to cast and dissect it, and see how it — 
 eats. . iat 
 
 1 See also Sir Charles Lyell. Second Visit to the United States, vol. 
 i. p. 131. London, 1849. Gosse, Romance ce Ne! History, vol. 1. 
 pv. 275. London, 1880. ¥. ; 
 
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