Chapter X: Peacock-Shooting, 326 (5)

It is, perhaps, among the Scandinavian races that the belief in the merman has reached its culminating point. So many particulars are inculcated concerning the mode and conditions of life of these submarine beings, that the most intimate relations appear to have subsisted between the terrestrial and the aquatic peoples. According to the creed of the Norsemen, there exists, far beneath the depths of the ocean, an atmosphere adapted to the breathing organs of beings resembling in form the human race, endowed with surpassing beauty, with limited supernatural powers, but liable to suffering, and even to death. Their dwelling is in a vast region, situate far below the bottom of the sea, which forms a canopy over them, like the sky over us, and there they inhabit houses constructed of the pearly and coralline productions of the ocean. Having lungs not adapted to a watery medium, but formed for breathing atmospheric air, it would be impossible for them to pass through the volume of waters that separates our world from theirs, if it were not that they possess the power of entering the skin of some marine animal, whose faculties they thus temporarily acquire, or of changing their own form and structure so as to suit the altered condition through which they are to travel. The most ordinary shape they assume is, as everybody knows, that of man (that is, their own proper form) from the waist upward, but below that of a fish. Whether they now breathe by gills or lungs, the anatomists, it seems, have not yet determined; we must presume the former alternative, since else it is not apparent what they have gained by their piscine metamorphosis of tail; though where the branchiae are situate we are a little at a loss to imagine. These, however, are matters which doubtless the scientific world will one day determine: it seems certain that they do thus acquire an amphibious nature, so as not only to exist submerged in the waters, but to land on the shores of our sunny world, where they frequently doff their fishy half, resume their proper human form, and pass muster while they pursue their investigations here.[90]

Unfortunately, but one of these resources can ever be availed of by any individual mer-man or -maid, nor can any "son or daughter of the ocean borrow more than one sea-dress of this kind for his own particular use; therefore if the garb should be mislaid on the shores he never can return to his submarine country and friends. A Shetlander, having once found an empty seal-skin on the shore, took it home and kept it in his possession. Soon after, he met the most lovely being who ever stepped on the earth, wringing her hands with distress, and loudly lamenting, that, having lost her sea-dress, she must remain for ever on the earth. The Shetlander, having fallen in love at first sight, said not a syllable about finding this precious treasure, but made his proposals, and offered to take her for better or for worse, as his future wife! The merlady, though not, as we know, much a woman of the world, very prudently accepted the offer! I never heard what the settlements were, but they lived very happily for some years, till one day, when the green-haired bride unexpectedly discovered her long-lost seal-skin, and instantly putting it on, she took a hasty farewell of everybody, and ran towards the shore. Her husband flew out in pursuit of her, but in vain! She sprang from point to point, and from rock to rock, till at length, hastening into the ocean, she disappeared for ever, leaving the worthy man, her husband, perfectly planet-struck and inconsolable on the shore!"[91]

Nor are there lacking in the rocky cliffs of our own northern islands fit lodgings for these sea kings and queens. The gifted pen of Sir Walter Scott has sketched one of these from his own observation: "Imagination can hardly conceive anything more beautiful than the extraordinary grotto discovered not many years since upon the estate of Alexander MacAllister, Esq. of Strathaird [in Skye]. The first entrance to this celebrated cave is rude and unpromising: but the light of the torches with which we were provided, was soon reflected from the roof, floor, and walls, which seemed as if they were sheeted with marble, partly smooth, partly rough with frostwork and rustic ornaments, and partly seeming to be wrought into statuary. The floor forms a steep and difficult ascent, and might be fancifully compared to a sheet of water, which, while it rushed whitening and foaming down a declivity, had been suddenly arrested and consolidated by the spell of an enchanter. Upon attaining the summit of this ascent, the cave opens into a splendid gallery, adorned with the most dazzling crystallizations, and finally descends with rapidity to the brink of a pool, of the most limpid water, about four or five yards broad. There opens beyond this pool a portal arch, formed by two columns of white spar, with beautiful chasing upon the sides, which promises a continuation of the cave. One of our sailors swam across, for there is no other mode of passing, and informed us (as indeed we partly saw by the light he carried) that the enchantment of MacAllister's cave terminates with this portal, a little beyond which there was only a rude cavern, speedily choked with stones and earth. But the pool on the brink of which we stood, surrounded by the most fanciful mouldings, in a substance resembling white marble, and distinguished by the depth and purity of its waters, might have been the bathing grotto of a naiad. The groups of combined figures projecting or embossed, by which the pool is surrounded, are exquisitely elegant and fanciful. A statuary might catch beautiful hints from the singular and romantic disposition of those stalactites. There is scarce a form or group on which active fancy may not trace figures or grotesque ornaments, which have been gradually moulded in this cavern by the dropping of the calcareous water hardening into petrifactions. Many of these fine groups have been injured by the senseless rage for appropriation of recent tourists; and the grotto has lost, (I am informed,) through the smoke of torches, something of that vivid silver tint which was originally one of its chief distinctions. But enough of beauty remains to compensate for all that may be lost."[92]

But these tales are the _nugae canorae_ of the naturalist. Once more,--Is there any substratum of truth underlying these fancies? or must they be unhesitatingly dismissed to the region of fable? Certainly, if there were not two or three narratives which have an air of veracity and dependableness, bearing out the belief to some slight extent, I should not have noticed it here.

How simple and circumstantial is this story told by old Hudson, the renowned navigator! a man whose narrative is more than usually dry and destitute of everything like, not only imagination, but even an imaginative aspect of ordinary circumstances. On the 15th of June, when in lat. 75 deg., trying to force a passage to the pole near Nova Zembla, he records the following incident: "This morning one of our company looking overboard saw a mermaid; and calling up some of the company to see her, one more came up, and by that time she was come close to the ship's side, looking earnestly on the men. A little after, a sea came and overturned her. From the navel upward, her back and breasts were like a woman's, as they say that saw her; her body as big as one of us; her skin very white; and long hair hanging down behind, of colour black. In her going down they saw her tail, which was like the tail of a porpoise, and speckled like a mackerel. Their names that saw her were Thomas Hilles and Robert Rayner."[93]

Whatever explanation be attempted of this apparition, the ordinary resource of seal or walrus will not avail here. Seals and walruses must have been as familiar to these Polar mariners as cows to a dairy-maid. Unless the whole story was a concerted lie between the two men, reasonless and objectless,--and the worthy old navigator doubtless knew the character of his men,--they must have seen, in the black-haired, white-skinned creature, some form of being as yet unrecognised.

Steller, a zoologist of some repute, who examined the natural history of the Siberian seas, reports having seen, near Behring's Straits, a strange animal, which he calls a Sea-ape. "It was about five feet long, with a head like a dog's; the ears sharp and erect, and the eyes large; on both lips it had a kind of beard; the form of the body was thick and round, but tapering to the tail, which was bifurcated, with the upper lobe longest; the body was covered with thick hair, grey on the back, and red on the belly. Steller could not discover any feet or paws. It was full of frolic, and sported in the manner of a monkey, swimming sometimes on one side of the ship and sometimes on the other, and looking at it with seeming surprise. It would come so near the ship that it might be touched with a pole; but if any one stirred, it would immediately retire. It often raised one third of its body above the water, and stood upright for a considerable time; then suddenly darted under the ship, and appeared in the same attitude on the other side; this it would repeat for thirty times together. It would frequently bring up a sea plant, not unlike a bottle-gourd, which it would toss about and catch again in its mouth, playing numberless fantastic tricks with it."

There is nothing in this description which would exclude it from well-recognised zoological classification. It is highly probable that it was one of the seal tribe, but of a species, perhaps a genus, not yet identified. All analogy would suggest that fore-paws must have been present in an animal with a dog-like head, and clothed with hair; but they were perhaps small,--smaller even than in other _Phocadae_, and may have been so concealed in the long hair, or held so closely pressed to the body, as not to be visible. The only other difficulty is in the posterior extremity. This is described by Steller in terms that imply a true piscine tail, expanded in a direction vertical to the plane of the body, and of that peculiar form called _heterocercal_, which distinguishes the cartilaginous families of Fishes, the Sharks and Rays. But the animal was indubitably a Mammal; and therefore we may almost with certainty assume that, if the body terminated in a natatory expansion, it would be, as in the whales, and manatees, a horizontal expansion, and not a vertical one. But if the strange creature was indeed, as I conclude, of the Phocine type, we have only to suppose the tail, which is usually very small in this family, to have been so greatly developed, as to exceed the united hind feet, which may have been small, and the appearance, seen momentarily, and in the wash of the waves, might well seem that of a heterocercal tail.

Captain Weddell, well known for his geographical discoveries in the extreme south of the globe, relates the following story: "A boat's crew were employed on Hall's Island, when one of the crew, left to take care of some produce, saw an animal whose voice was even musical. The sailor had lain down, and about ten o'clock he heard a noise resembling human cries; and as daylight in these latitudes never disappears at this season, he rose and looked around; but, on seeing no person, returned to bed; presently he heard the noise again; rose a second time, but still saw nothing. Conceiving, however, the possibility of a boat being upset, and that some of the crew might be clinging to some detached rocks, he walked along the beach a few steps, and heard the noise more distinctly, but in a musical strain. Upon searching round he saw an object lying on a rock a dozen yards from the shore, at which he was somewhat frightened. The face and shoulders appeared of human form, and of a reddish colour; over the shoulders hung long green hair; the tail resembled that of the seal, but the extremities of the arms he could not see distinctly. The creature continued to make a musical noise while he gazed about two minutes, and on perceiving him it disappeared in an instant. Immediately when the man saw his officer, he told this wild tale, and to add weight to his testimony, (being a Romanist,) he made a cross on the sand which he kissed, as making oath to the truth of his statement. When I saw him, he told the story in so clear and positive a manner, making oath to its truth, that I concluded he must really have seen the animal he described, or that it must have been the effects of a disturbed imagination."[94]

The _green_ hair in this description is the most suspicious element; it is so exactly that attributed to the poetical mermaids, and so entirely without precedent in the whole range of known zoology,--that, if taken literally, I fear it would condemn the narrative. But among the Antarctic seals, both golden yellow fur, and black fur, are found; and if hairs of these two colours were about equally intermingled, the result would be an olive-green, as we see in some of the monkeys; and then some allowance must doubtless be made for imagination, in one little accustomed to precise observation, and "somewhat frightened" withal. I should say, with little hesitation, that this creature was of the seal family, only that the seaman's daily habits brought him into the most familiar contact with various kinds of seals; and, unless the animal in question had differed notably from such as he was acquainted with, he would not have been so affected by the phenomenon. In such stories, the sorts of creatures familiar to the observation of the narrator, and the amount of surprise produced in his mind by the stranger,--must always be carefully estimated, as important elements in the formation of our judgment.

To come nearer home, Pontoppidan records the appearance of a merman, which was deposed to on oath by the observers: "About a mile from the coast of Denmark, near Landscrona, three sailors, observing something like a dead body floating in the water, rowed towards it. When they came within seven or eight fathoms, it still appeared as at first, for it had not stirred; but at that instant it sunk, and came up almost immediately in the same place. Upon this, out of fear, they lay still, and then let the boat float, that they might the better examine the monster, which, by the help of the current, came nearer and nearer to them. He turned his face and stared at them, which gave them a good opportunity of examining him narrowly. He stood in the same place for seven or eight minutes, and was seen above the water breast high. At last they grew apprehensive of some danger, and began to retire; upon which the monster blew up his cheeks, and made a kind of lowing noise, and then dived from their view. In regard to his form, they declare in their affidavits, which were regularly taken and recorded, that he appeared like an old man, strong-limbed, with broad shoulders, but his arms they could not see. His head was small in proportion to his body, and had short curled black hair, which did not reach below his ears; his eyes lay deep in his head, and he had a meagre face, with a black beard; about the body downwards this merman was quite pointed like a fish."[95]

But the most remarkable story that I know of in recent times, is that adduced by Dr Robert Hamilton, in his able History of the Whales and Seals, in the _Naturalist's Library_, he himself vouching for its general truth, from personal knowledge of some of the parties: "It was reported that a fishing-boat, off the island of Yell, one of the Shetland group, had captured a mermaid by its getting entangled in the lines!! The statement is, that the animal was about three feet long, the upper part of the body resembling the human, with protuberant mammae like a woman; the face, the forehead, and neck, were short and resembling those of a monkey; the arms, which were small, were kept folded across the breast; the fingers were distinct, not webbed; a few stiff long bristles were on the top of the head, extending down to the shoulders, and these it could erect and depress at pleasure, something like a crest. The inferior part of the body was like a fish. The skin was smooth, and of a grey colour. It offered no resistance, nor attempted to bite, but uttered a low plaintive sound. The crew, six in number, took it within their boat, but superstition getting the better of curiosity, they carefully disentangled it from the lines, and a hook which had accidentally fastened in its body, and returned it to its native element. It instantly dived, descending in a perpendicular direction.

"After writing the above, (we are informed) the narrator had an interview with the skipper of the boat and one of the crew, from whom he learned the following additional particulars. They had the animal for three hours within the boat; the body was without scales or hair; was of a silvery grey colour above, and white below, like the human skin; no gills were observed; nor fins on the back or belly. The tail was like that of the dog-fish: the mammae were about as large as those of a woman; the mouth and lips were very distinct, and resembled the human.

"This communication was from Mr Edmonston, a well-known and intelligent observer, to the distinguished Professor of Natural History in the Edinburgh University, and Mr E. adds a few reflections, which are so pertinent, that we shall avail ourselves of them. That a very peculiar animal has been taken, no one can doubt. It was seen and handled by six men, on one occasion, and for some time, not one of whom dreams of a doubt of its being a mermaid. If it were supposed that their fears magnified its supposed resemblance to the human form, it must at all events be admitted that there was some ground for exciting these fears. But no such fears were likely to be entertained; for the mermaid is not an object of terror to the fisherman; it is rather a welcome guest, and danger is to be apprehended only from its experiencing bad treatment. The usual resources of scepticism, that the seals and other sea-animals, appearing under certain circumstances, operating on an excited imagination, and so producing ocular illusion, cannot avail here. It is quite impossible that, under the circumstances, six Shetland fishermen could commit such a mistake."[96]

There is, no doubt, much in this account which signally distinguishes it from all other statements with which it can be compared, except that of Hudson's sailors, with which it well coincides. The protuberant mammae, resembling those of a woman; the human, or at least simian face, forehead, and neck, and especially the mouth and lips; the distinct unwebbed fingers; the erectile crest of bristles; the nature of the surface,--without scales or hair; the colour; and the tail,--like that of a fish;--are all very remarkable points; and unless we conclude the entire story to be a lie, a mere barefaced hoax,--must necessarily indicate a creature of which scientific zoology knows absolutely nothing.

It is observable that, here again, the tail is said to have been piscine and heterocercal, "like that of the dog-fish:" while the naked skin, and the colour--silvery grey above and white below,--will well agree with the characteristics common to the smaller _Squalidae_.

It is a pity that an account like this, avouched by six witnesses, was not thoroughly sifted. I have no doubt that, if a person tolerably conversant with zoology, and accustomed to the habit of cross-examination, had examined these six eye-witnesses _separately_, making full notes of what each could remember to have observed, and had then checked each deposition by all the others, a mass of testimony would have been accumulated that would in an instant have convinced any candid inquirer what measure of truth lay in the story. Points in which the whole six, or even three or four, agreed, might unhesitatingly have been set down as correct: suggestive questions, (not, however, suggesting the sort of answer,) as, "Had the creature so and so, or so and so?" could not have received the same reply from all the deponents, without being worthy of credence: even the points on which they would have differed might themselves have been instructive to an intelligent inquirer. I do not know that any such precautionary measures were resorted to in this case, and the tale must remain as we get it; but I make these observations for the purpose of suggesting, in the event of any similar occurrence, the advantage of _separate_ examination in getting at the truth. On a review of the whole evidence, I do not judge that this single story is a sufficient foundation for believing in the existence of mermaids; but, taken into combination with other statements, it induces a strong suspicion that the northern seas may hold forms of life as yet uncatalogued by science.

[87] _Geog. and Classif. of Animals_, 249.

[88] _Egypt and Mehemet Ali_, ii. p. 322.

[89] _Japan and her People_, p. 193.

[90] See Hibbert's _Shetland Islands_, p. 566.

[91] Miss Sinclair's _Shetland_.

[92] Notes to _The Lord of the Isles_.

[93] _Hudson the Navigator_, by Asher, Voy. ii.

[94] _Voyage towards the South Pole_, p. 143.

[95] Pontoppidan's _Nat. Hist. of Norway_, p. 154.

[96] _Edinburgh Magazine_, vol. xiii.

IV.

THE SELF-IMMURED.

Turning from reputed beings of which the very existence is the subject of doubt, let us consider one or two well-known and homely creatures, about which a certain degree of romantic interest hovers, because conditions of life are attributed to them by popular faith, which the general verdict of science denies.

One of the most remarkable examples in this category of _dubitanda_, is the oft-repeated case of Toads and similar animals found inclosed within the solid wood of living trees, or even within blocks of stone, with no discernible communication with the external air, or at least no aperture by which they could have entered their prison, yet, in every instance, alive. That insuperable difficulties stand _a priori_ in the way of our believing in such conditions, no one familiar with animal physiology can deny; for, as Mr Bell observes, to believe that a Toad inclosed within a mass of clay, or other similar substance, shall exist wholly without air or food, for hundreds of years, and at length be liberated alive and capable of crawling, on the breaking up of the matrix,--now become a solid rock,--is certainly a demand upon our credulity which few will be ready to answer.

Yet, after all, it is a question that must not be decided _a priori_: it must rest upon evidence. It may be that here, too, fact is stranger than fiction; and we must not shut our eyes and ears to concurrent credible testimony, if it happen to bear witness to facts which we cannot account for. Truth will certainly be upon us, even though, ostrich-like, we thrust our head into a bush, and maintain that we cannot see it.

The learned historian of British Reptiles speaks with his characteristic candour upon the point. He admits that the many concurrent assertions of credible persons, who declare themselves to have been witnesses of the emancipation of imprisoned Toads, forbid us hastily to refuse our assent, or at least to deny the possibility of such a circumstance; while he demands better and more cautious evidence to authorise our implicit faith in these asserted facts.[97]

The ordinary mode of accounting for the phenomena, supposing them to be narrated in good faith, is that the animal "fell into the hollow where the men were at work, and was taken up by them in ignorance of the mode in which it had come there," or that "it may have hidden in the hollow of a tree during the autumn and winter, and on the return of spring found itself so far inclosed within its hiding-place as to be unable to escape." This latter suggestion would be more worthy of attention were the winter season the period in which, in our climate, periodical additions are made to the living wood, so as to narrow the entrance, or in which augmentations of bulk occurred to Toads, so as to prevent them from getting out where they got in;--but unfortunately the reverse of both suppositions is true. As to the former suggestion, while it may possibly serve to dismiss a few of the published statements, there are others which it would be absurd to explain thereby.

True to its principles of never shutting the door to the investigation of any natural history subject, the _Zoologist_ has, during the eighteen years of its existence, been a medium for collecting and preserving facts bearing on this question. The pages of this periodical form an invaluable storehouse to the philosophic naturalist, who wishes to pursue his science undeterred by the ridicule of sciolism or the frown of authority. Let us search its treasures, then, expecting to find stories of diverse grades of credibility, of which the editor wisely leaves his readers to judge for themselves.

In May 1844, the Rev. J. Pemberton Bartlett of Kingston, in Kent, an experienced naturalist, mentions the following fact as having just come under his own notice:--"Only a few weeks since, in cutting down a fir-tree here, the workman discovered, completely imbedded in the centre, a Toad, which had doubtless been there some years, as the tree had completely grown over it; it must have been kept alive by absorbing the moisture of the tree. It was not in a completely torpid state, and after being exposed to the air a few hours, it crawled in true toad-like style. The age of the tree in which it was found was, as far as I could judge from the number of circles, about twenty-five years."[98]

In reply to an inquiry whether he himself saw the Toad, and counted the timber-rings, Mr Bartlett favours me with the following note:--

"EXBURY PARSONAGE, NEAR SOUTHAMPTON,
_February 22, 1861_.

"DEAR SIR,-- ... _I_ quite believe that Toads _do_ live in stone, but I have found it very difficult to get the facts from eye-witnesses. The imbedded Toad in the fir-tree, mentioned by me in the _Zoologist_, I saw, and, as stated there, I counted the rings of the tree. I believe it to have been the common Toad; but it looked rather more flabby, and not quite so round in its proportions, as toads generally do; in fact, instead of being 'puffed up' as they commonly are, it was considerably _down in the mouth_, from its close imprisonment! The cavity in which it was fixed appeared to have been originally a crack or fissure in the side of the tree; whether caused by decay, or made by a nuthatch or some other bird, I cannot say. The wound appeared to have healed, as the bark had apparently closed over it. The question now arises, Was the Toad _young_ when it got into the hollow? and did it grow after it became a prisoner? Or had it come to years of discretion, when it took that unfortunate step, or rather crawl, into the cavity where it was so long to be imprisoned? And _why did_ it remain there so quietly, while the bark gradually grew over its prison-house? The answer that I should give to the first of these questions would be, that probably it had arrived at a state of _toadhood_ when it took refuge in the tree, and _did not_ grow afterwards. My theory why it remained ensconced there so quietly is this, that probably it might have been accustomed for some time to take refuge by day in this hole, from whence it would set out on its nocturnal rambles, and probably 'not go home till morning;' that on some occasion, 'when daylight did appear,' it returned to its accustomed haunt, and there squatted, winking and puffing, after its night's exploits, as toads are wont to do; that, on that luckless day, some felled tree or trees were laid up against the fir-tree that contained its abode, and that the tree or trees remained there till the bark closed so as to prevent its escape. What makes this idea the more probable is that the place where the fir-tree grew had, for probably years, been used as a place to store felled timber, as it was used for that purpose at the time I saw the Toad.

"After the discovery of this Toad in the fir-tree, I tried several experiments on Toads, by burying them in closely-sealed flower-pots, at a depth of nearly three feet. I much regret that I cannot find my notes on the subject; but I remember perfectly the main facts of one. The Toad was placed in a flower-pot, with another turned over it, and well cemented together--the two holes in both pots being also closely cemented up. It was buried between two and three feet deep in the garden. At the end of three months I took it up, and weighed the Toad, and found it had lost a very little in weight. This I did again at the end of three months more; it was then quite lively, and had lost again but little in weight. I replaced it as before, and on taking it up the third time, I found the pots had, probably the cement not having been dry when buried, slipped on one side, and the moisture had got in, and consequently the poor Toad was dead, as well as buried! Now, surely if a Toad could live _six months_ hermetically _sealed_ in a flower-pot, without air or food--why not a much longer time?...--Believe me, yours faithfully,

"J. PEMBERTON BARTLETT."

The Rev. W. J. Bree of Allesley, also an excellent zoologist, alluding to some queries by Mr E. Newman, communicated the following facts:--"I quite agree with you that the statements about Toads found in solid stone are mostly very unsatisfactory. One instance of the kind I have seen, as briefly stated, _Mag. Nat. Hist._, ix. 316. The Toad appeared to me neither more nor less than our common species, although I certainly did not examine it scientifically. The stone was the new red sandstone of geologists; and was brought up, as I was told, some yards from below the surface. I understood the Toad, and the two portions of stone in which it was found inclosed, were deposited in some medical museum at Birmingham. The animal would not have been discovered but for an accident: the workmen were carting the stone away, and the block containing the Toad happened to be placed on the top of a great load, and accidentally fell from the cart to the ground, and, breaking by the fall, brought to light the incarcerated reptile, which, I conclude, was somewhat injured by the fall, as there was a fresh wound on one side of the head, and it appeared to be blind of one eye. The Toad died, I was informed, the second day after it was discovered, partly, in all probability, in consequence of the injury. When I say the block of stone was _solid_, this statement requires some qualification: the two parts of the stone fitted together exactly, and quite close, except where the cavity was in which the Toad lay; but from this cavity there was evidently a flaw on one side towards the extremity, and a discolouring of the substance of the sandstone, so that although the two portions fitted together, they might not have been (on one side of the cavity) very firmly united. This circumstance, perhaps, may detract from the value of the example; nevertheless, it is unaccountable how the animal could have got into the position in which it was found: it is not conceivable, I think, that it should have been there ever since the first formation of the rock, and there certainly appeared to be no means by which it could have entered the rock in its present state, even admitting (what we know to be the fact) that Toads have the power of getting in and out of a very small orifice."

The author of the next account, signed "E. Peacock," is unknown to me; and it does not appear whether he speaks from personal observation or not. He says, "A few days ago, two labourers, employed at a stone quarry at Frodingham, near Brigg, Lincolnshire, found, at a depth of five feet below the surface of the ground, and between two blocks of stone (lias), a living Toad: the interstice between the stones was filled with yellow clay, and there did not appear the least possible aperture by which anything could have passed."[99]

Even from remote India we have reports of the same phenomenon. A correspondent from Serampore sends the _Zoologist_ the following:--"Last Wednesday, Feb. 7, 1849, on severing the branch of a tree, apparently of the tamarind species, I found a Toad in the centre of the wood, entirely excluded from light and air. The appearance of the animal was rather extraordinary. The body seemed full of air, and the skin soft and puffy, and of a light yellowish colour, with the exception of the extremities of the feet, which were hard and dark. The creature when exposed to the air seemed rather uncomfortable, and drew in its head just like a turtle when alarmed. It was thrown into a tank, when the water around, to the space of about a foot on either side, became perfectly white, like milk. It jumped out of the water immediately, apparently not liking the coldness. I did not have opportunity of observing it further, which I regret, as the animal got concealed in the long grass on the side of the tank, and was thus lost. The general supposition as to the mode by which animals get inclosed within trees, is their taking shelter in the cavity of a tree when very young, and the growth of the tree filling up the cavity, and thus imprisoning the animal. But this supposition, if true in the present case, makes the circumstance now related the more extraordinary. The tree is an old one, upwards of fifty feet high, and having a trunk more than three feet in diameter; and the height from the ground at which the Toad was found was about twelve feet. We must suppose the Toad to have got into the tree when within a foot from the ground: how many years old then must the animal be?"

The mention of the whitening of the water in which the Toad was immersed is to my mind a strong corroboration of the veracity of the preceding narrative. It is not a circumstance at all likely to occur to a mere inventor, as it does not in the least bear on the question of incarceration, and there is no attempt to explain it. I have occasionally seen fluids rendered partially opaque by the outflow of a milky secretion from animals immersed in them, as in the case of the curious _Peripatus_ of Jamaica, which, when put alive into spirits, discharges a considerable quantity of white fluid, which diffuses in the alcohol. The Toad was probably distinct from our common English species, but we know that the latter secretes a yellow acrid fluid in some abundance in the follicles of its skin, and this might be poured out under the excitement of alarm or anger.

In the summer of 1851, the Academie des Sciences was interested (according to the public papers) with this question. In digging a well at Blois, in June of that year, "some workmen drew up from about a yard beneath the surface a large flint, weighing about fourteen pounds, and on striking it a blow with a pickaxe, it split in two, and discovered, snugly ensconced in the very centre, a large Toad. The Toad seemed for a moment greatly astonished, but jumped out, and rather rapidly crawled away. He was seized and replaced in the hole, when he settled himself down very quietly. The stone and Toad, just as they were, were sent to the Society of Sciences at Blois, and became immediately the subject of curious attention. First of all, the flint, fitted together, with the Toad in the hole, was placed in a cellar, and imbedded in moss. There it was left for some time. It is not known if the Toad ate, but it is certain that he made no discharge of any kind. It was found that if the top of the stone were cautiously removed in a dark place he did not stir, but that if the removal were effected in the light, he immediately got out and ran away. If he were placed on the edge of the flint, he would crawl into his hole, and fix himself comfortably in. He gathered his legs beneath his body; and it was observed that he took especial care of one of his feet, which had been slightly hurt in one of his removals. The hole is not one bit larger than the body, except a little where the back is. There is a sort of ledge on which his mouth reposes, and the bones of the jaws are slightly indented, as if from long resting on a hard substance. Not the slightest appearance of any communication whatsoever between the centre and the outside of the stone can be discovered, so that there is no reason to suppose that he could have drawn any nourishment from the outside. The committee, consisting of three eminent naturalists, one of whom has made Toads his peculiar study for years, made no secret of their belief that the Toad had been in that stone for hundreds, perhaps thousands of years; but how he could have lived without air, or food, or water, or movement, they made no attempt to explain. They accordingly contented themselves with proposing that the present should be considered another authentic case, to be added to the few hundreds already existing, of Toads being found alive imbedded in stone, leaving it to some future savant to explain what now appears the wonderful miracle by which Nature keeps them alive so long in such places. But the distinguished M. Majendie suggested that it was just possible that an attempt was being made to hoax the Academy, by making it believe that the Toad had been found in the hole, whereas it might only have been put in by the mischievous workmen after the stone was broken. Terrified at the idea of becoming the laughing-stock of the public, the Academy declined to take any formal resolution about the Toad, but thanked the committee for its very interesting communication; and so the subject dropped."

This statement does not, to be sure, bear about it that character of precision which should mark the report of a scientific body, nor is it verified by authority; but the terror ascribed to L'Academie at the idea of being hoaxed, and the instant quashing of the inquiry, are so true to nature, so accurately characteristic of our august associations of savans, that I cannot help believing the story.

Here is another, which has the air of a _bona fide_ account, though I have no knowledge of the writer, nor does he himself seem to pretend to personal autopsy of the discovery.

On Monday last, September 20, while some workmen were engaged in getting iron ore at a place called Paswick, in the north of this county, [Derby,] they came upon a solid lump of ore, which, being heavier than two men could lift, they set to work to break with their picks, when, to their surprise, in a cavity near the centre of the stone, they found a Toad alive. The cavity was much larger than the Toad, being nearly six inches in diameter, and was lined with crystals of what I suppose to be carbonate of lime. The stone was about four yards from the surface of the ground; it is now in the possession of Mr Haywood of Derby, by whose men it was found; but unfortunately the Toad was not preserved after its death, which took place almost immediately on its exposure to the atmosphere.[100]

_Audi alteram partem._ Mr Plant of the Salford Museum tells us, both in sorrow and in anger, a story, doubtless more amusing to us who read it than to him, of his adventures among the toad-finders. When geologising in the neighbourhood of Chesterfield, a quarryman, whom he had invited to share a bottle of porter, informed him in confidence that Toads inclosed in stone were plentiful thereabout. "He said he had often found them, and that he knew a stone before it was broken that would contain a Toad; giving me long and circumstantial accounts of the whole phenomenon: and, to convince me of the truth of his statement, he took me to the quarry (a carboniferous sandstone) that I might see the stones out of which he said the Toads had been released. I examined the stones and the whole quarry very attentively, and listened to the emphatic testimony of other miners present. After complying in an agreeable manner to their remark that the day was warm, and the water of the quarry not much in favour, I made a simple proposal of this nature:--I promised to pay to any one of them the sum of twenty shillings for the next stone in which they found a Frog or Toad when the stone was broken in two. They should catch the Frog if he bolted out of the hole, replace him, and fit the stones together again, afterwards despatching it to me in that condition. I further promised to pay the sum of forty shillings to any one of them who should procure me a stone, unbroken, in which he considered a Toad or Frog was imprisoned, if, on breaking it myself, such turned out to be the case. These conditions were to remain in force for twelve months; and as the means of conveyance to my address, which I gave them, would occasion little or no trouble, the offer was readily accepted by the miners; who also, to express their confidence in soon being able to supply the order, proposed that it would be all safe if I advanced a little cash on account; which however I resolutely declined doing. And now what will the credulous believers in these 'Toads in stone' who read the _Zoologist_ say, when they learn that I visited the quarry twice during the twelve months, in order to fetch the Toads which never came by rail? I always found the men there blasting tons of new rock, splitting stones for every building purpose, yet dry-throated and sullen; for, alas! most unaccountably during that long twelve months they found plenty of holes--not Toad holes--in the sandstone, but the reptiles had been banished as effectually as ever they were from the Emerald Isle."[101]

This was disheartening, certainly: and we do not wonder that Mr Plant became "a total disbeliever in these 'simple tales.'" Still, it is just possible, that immured Toads may exist, though Mikey of the Chesterfield quarry, in hope of the advance, did brag a little too confidently of the commonness of the occurrence. That, within one twelvemonth, within the limits of one quarry, no such Toad turned up, even under the stimulus of the proffered forty shillings, can scarcely be admitted to be absolutely conclusive proof of the negative, at least not to us who were not placed in the painful position of _gullees_. Mr Arthur Hussey of Rottingdean justly remarks, when presenting some evidence _per contra_, that we should not think the innocence of a culprit was established by his asserting, when sundry witnesses affirmed they saw him commit the offence he was accused of,--that he could produce ten times the number who would swear they _did not_ see him.

"During the summer of 1846," writes Mr Hussey, "in the formation of a railroad, about half a mile from Pontefract, in Yorkshire, the works were carried a 'depth of four feet through a rock betwixt lime and sandstone, about the junction of the two formations:' the rock being so firm as to require blasting. 'It is entirely free from beds of any kind, or what the workmen term "backs," running up it,' but therein are 'an infinite number of small nodules of a harder quality, entirely crystallised in the interior.' After blasting, the labourers were much surprised to find among the fragments several of these nodules, each one containing a Frog, as many as seven having been counted after one 'shot.'

"These were not casually seen when exposed, and then disregarded, but were examined in their stone prisons through very minute holes, some even preserved in that state for a long period. For example, the relator states of one specimen, 'I kept this Toad in a cellar for about five months, during which time it ate nothing, and was without light, the hole in the stone being covered with a piece of clay, and the whole kept moist and cool with water.' Of another he says, 'The Frog lived only about a week, as I kept it in a place which I think was too warm for it, and also not sufficiently dark and quiet. When the Frogs were disturbed by the shots, their first desire seemed to be to get under shelter of some stone, or into their old holes again, shewing thereby that sight was not wanting, and bodily activity was perfect as far as could be seen. One thing struck me as singular with regard to the Frog I kept--its fresh, plump, and healthy appearance, its skin being soft and transparent. One day, when I was holding my finger over the hole in the stone, it pushed its head between my finger and the sides of the hole, and drew its whole body after it on to the table, where it appeared more like a skeleton than any living animal I have ever seen, but by degrees it extended itself to its former dimensions.'

"Of the above curious occurrence my only knowledge is derived from the account written to a distant friend, of which the substance has now been extracted. The writer is an utter stranger, but he was officially employed in the operations which resulted in the discoveries; and my information leads me to believe his report deserving of confidence, for which reason I have not hesitated to offer this abstract for publication in the _Zoologist_."[102]

The Rev. Alfred Charles Smith, an excellent and genial naturalist, favours us with another case, introducing it incidentally in illustration of the general habit he is denouncing of wantonly destroying animal life:--"As an instance of this thoughtless cruelty, I must give an account that has just come to my notice. Some labourers were pulling down an old wall, in the thickness of which they found one of those phenomena--so frequently heard of and so unsatisfactorily accounted for--a Toad completely imbedded in stone and mortar. 'There was no doubt,' said the labourer who described it, 'that he had been there for a great number of years, for there was no hole or chink by which he could have entered or left the place of his long sojourn.' 'Well,' said the listener to his account, 'but are you sure that the Toad was alive when you found it?' 'No doubt of that, sir,' said the man, 'for he crawled out of his round hole and was moving away, when I knocked him on the head with my pickaxe.'

"So here was this poor harmless creature, whose long incarceration in his gloomy dungeon might have excited compassion in his favour, suddenly released from his prison, only to be slain by his liberator!"[103]

The next is from the _Caledonian Mercury_. Newspaper zoology is proverbially untrustworthy, and the editor of the _Zoologist_, who reprints the paragraph, kindly adds a caveat for the benefit of his readers,--"_Nimium ne crede Mercurio!_" But, nevertheless, let us look at it: alone it would stand for little, but, remember, in such questions as this the evidence is cumulative. "There is at present to be seen at Messrs Sanderson and Sons, George Street, Edinburgh, an extraordinary specimen of natural history--a Frog which had been discovered alive in freestone rock. A few months ago, while some colliers in the employ of Mr James Nasmyth (lessee of Dundonald Colliery, in Fife, the property of R. B. Wardlaw Ramsay, Esq. of Whitehill), were engaged in taking out the pavement of the seam coal, which was freestone, they discovered a cavity in which a Frog was lying. On touching it the Frog jumped about for some time, and a bucket of water being procured, it was put into it, and taken to the surface. On reaching it, the animal was found to be dead. It was at the depth of forty-five fathoms, or ninety yards from the surface, in a perpendicular line of strata, consisting of alternate layers of coal and freestone, with ironstone, and about four hundred yards from the outcrop surface. The Frog seems to have much of the same character as the present species. It is very attenuated, which cannot be wondered at, considering its domicile for so many ages, its original existence being of course considered contemporaneous with the formation of the freestone rock in which it was contained."[104]

Now, again, we get the statement of a careful working naturalist, Mr Thomas Clark of Halesleigh. He cannot, indeed, give personal authority for what he records; but the confidence of such a man in his informant is an element not without its value. "March 25, 1859. In the early part of this month, two live Toads were dug out from the bottom of a bed of stiff brick clay, in the neighbourhood of Bridgewater, at the depth of fourteen feet from the surface of the ground; a third was killed by the spade before they were observed. This bed of clay rests on peat, and the Toads were found at the junction of the two beds, in a small domed cavity, about the size of the crown of a man's hat. On being exposed to the air, they uttered a squeaking cry, resembling that of a rat, but in about a minute they seemed reconciled to their new destiny, and moved freely about. They were kept in a jar for a few days, and then placed at liberty in a garden, where I suppose they are still living. The living ones were about two inches in length, but narrow in proportion, and of a rather lighter colour than Toads usually are; the one which was killed was very much larger. The clay under which they were buried had been gradually dug out from the surface since about the beginning of the year, but the last five feet of depth was not dug till the day on which they were discovered. After about two feet of the surface, the clay is very close and adhesive, and far too moist to admit of cracks being formed in it, even in the driest summers."[105]

To this communication inserted in the _Zoologist_, Mr Newman added a note asking the name of any scientific man who was present at the exhumation. Mr Clark replies:--"I am unable to give such a name, further than as the intelligent foreman of the brickyard, Thomas Duddridge, (who witnessed the exhumation by one of the labourers of the yard,) may be entitled to the appellation; but no one, however high his scientific attainments, could be more careful than he was to give me correct information, or more exact in his statements; and if, after minute inquiry, I had not been fully satisfied of the correctness of his account, I should not have sought to occupy the pages of the _Zoologist_ with its recital. On shewing him the notice in the _Zoologist_, he said it was impossible for anything to be more correct; and he added, that the little cavity which the Toads occupied was quite smooth in every part, apparently by their long-continued movements,--as smooth, to use his own illustration, as the inside of a China bowl."[106]

Numerous experiments have been made with a view to test the possibility of these reputed facts. If Toads do so commonly become voluntarily or accidentally immured, and remain without light, food, or even air, for many years, and yet survive, let us put some Toads into similar circumstances, keep them shut up, and, after the lapse of a sufficient interval, examine them, and see whether they are alive or dead. "_Experimentum faciemus in corpore vili_," as the village doctor said to his assistant over the sick traveller.