singular circumstance happened off the coast of Chili, in lat. 24 deg. S.,
which spread some alarm amongst my people, and awakened their
superstitious apprehensions. About 8 o'clock in the evening an animal
rose alongside the ship, and uttered such shrieks and tones of
lamentation, so much like those produced by the female human voice when
expressing the deepest distress as to occasion no small degree of alarm
among those who first heard it. These cries continued for upwards of
three hours, and seemed to increase as the ship sailed from it. I never
heard any noise whatever that approached so near those sounds which
proceed from the organs of utterance in the human species."
Captain Weddell, in his 'Voyage towards the South Pole' (p. 143), writes
that one of his men, having been left ashore on Hall's Island to take
care of some produce, heard one night about ten o'clock, after he had
lain down to rest, a noise resembling human cries. As daylight does not
disappear in those latitudes at the season in which the incident
occurred, the sailor rose and searched along the beach, thinking that,
possibly, a boat might have been upset, and that some of the crew might
be clinging to the detached rocks.
"Roused by that voice of silver sound,
From the paved floor he lightly sprung,
And, glaring with his eyes around,
Where the fair nymph her tresses wrung,"[56]
guided by occasional sounds, he at length 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 a seal,
but the extremities of the arms he could not see distinctly."
"As on the wond'ring youth she smiled,
Again she raised the melting lay,"[56]
[56] John Leyden.
for the creature continued to make a musical noise during the two
minutes he gazed at it, and, on perceiving him, disappeared in an
instant.
[Illustration: FIG. 13.--A JAPANESE ARTIFICIAL MERMAID.]
The universality of the belief in an animal of combined human and
fish-like form is very remarkable. That it exists amongst the Japanese
we have evidence in their curious and ingeniously-constructed models
which are occasionally brought to this country. I have one of these
which is so exactly the counterpart of that which my friend Mr. Frank
Buckland described, originally in _Land and Water_, and which forms the
subject of a chapter in his 'Curiosities of Natural History,'[57] that
the portrait of the one (Fig. 13) will equally well represent the other.
The lower half of the body is made of the skin and scales of a fish of
the carp family, and fastened on to this, so neatly that it is hardly
possible to detect where the joint is made, is a wooden body, the ribs
of which are so prominent that the poor mermaid has a miserable and
half-starved appearance. The upper part of the body is in the attitude
of a Sphinx, leaning upon its elbows and fore-arms. The arms are thin
and scraggy, and the fingers attenuated and skeleton-like. The nails are
formed of small pieces of ivory or bone. The head is like that of a
small monkey, and a little wool covers the crown, so thinly and untidily
that if the mermaid possessed a crystal mirror she would see the
necessity for the vigorous use of her comb of pearl. The teeth are those
of some fish--apparently of the cat-fish, (_Anarchicas lupus_). These
Japanese artificial mermaids have brought many a dollar into the pockets
of Mr. Barnum and other showmen.
[57] Third Series, vol. ii. p. 134, 2nd ed.
Somewhat different in appearance from this, but of the same kind, was an
artificial mermaid described in the _Saturday Magazine_ of June 4th,
1836. Fig. 14 is a facsimile of the woodcut which accompanied it. This
grotesque composition was exhibited in a glass case, some years
previously, "in a leading street at the west end" of London. It was
constructed "of the skin of the head and shoulders of a monkey, which
was attached to the dried skin of a fish of the salmon kind with the
head cut off, and the whole was stuffed and highly varnished, the better
to deceive the eye." It was said to have been "taken by the crew of a
Dutch vessel from on board a native Malacca boat, and from the reverence
shown to it, it was supposed to be a representative of one of their idol
gods." I am inclined to think that it was of Japanese origin.
[Illustration: FIG. 14.--AN ARTIFICIAL MERMAID, PROBABLY JAPANESE.]
Fig. 15 is described in the article above referred to as having been
copied from a Japanese drawing, and as being a portrait of one of their
deities. Its similarity to one of those of the Assyrians (Fig. 2, page
3) is remarkable. The inscription, however, does not indicate this. The
Chinese characters in the centre--"_Nin giyo_"--signify "human fish;"
those on the right in Japanese _Hira Kana_, or running-hand, have the
same purport, and those on the left, in _Kata Kana_, the characters of
the Japanese alphabet, mean "_Ichi hiru ike_"--"one day kept alive." The
whole legend seems to pretend that this human fish was actually caught,
and kept alive in water for twenty-four hours, but, as the box on which
it is inscribed is one of those in which the Japanese showmen keep their
toys, it was probably the subject of a "penny peep-show."
We need not travel from our own country to find the belief in mermaids
yet existing. It is still credited in the north of Scotland that they
inhabit the neighbouring seas: and Dr. Robert Hamilton, F.R.S.E.,
writing in 1839, expressed emphatically his opinion that there was then
as much ignorance on this subject as had prevailed at any former
period.[58]
[58] Naturalist's Library, Marine Amphibiae, p. 291.
[Illustration: FIG. 15.--A MERMAID. _From a Japanese picture._]
In the year 1797, Mr. Munro, schoolmaster of Thurso, affirmed that he
had seen "a figure like a naked female, sitting on a rock projecting
into the sea, at Sandside Head, in the parish of Reay. Its head was
covered with long, thick, light-brown hair, flowing down on the
shoulders. The forehead was round, the face plump, and the cheeks ruddy.
The mouth and lips resembled those of a human being, and the eyes were
blue. The arms, fingers, breast, and abdomen were as large as those of a
full-grown female," and, altogether,
"That sea-nymph's form of pearly light
Was whiter than the downy spray,
And round her bosom, heaving bright,
Her glossy yellow ringlets play."[59]
[59] John Leyden.
"This creature," continued Mr. Munro, "was apparently in the act of
combing its hair with its fingers, which seemed to afford it pleasure,
and it remained thus occupied during some minutes, when it dropped into
the sea." The Dominie
"saw the maiden there,
Just as the daylight faded,
Braiding her locks of gowden hair
An' singing as she braided,"[60]
[60] The Ettrick Shepherd.
but he did not remark whether the fingers were webbed. On the whole, he
infers that this was a marine animal of which he had a distinct and
satisfactory view, and that the portion seen by him bore a narrow
resemblance to the human form. But for the dangerous situation it had
chosen, and its appearance among the waves, he would have supposed it to
be a woman. Twelve years later, several persons observed near the same
spot an animal which they also supposed to be a mermaid.
A very remarkable story of this kind is one related by Dr. Robert
Hamilton in the volume already referred to, and for the general truth of
which he vouches, from his personal knowledge of some of the persons
connected with the occurrence. In 1823 it was reported that some
fishermen of Yell, one of the Shetland group, had captured a mermaid by
its being entangled in their lines. The statement was 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, forehead, and
neck were short, and resembled 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 become fastened in its body, and
returned it to its native element. It instantly dived, descending in a
perpendicular direction." Mr. Edmonston, the original narrator of this
incident, was "a well-known and intelligent observer," says Dr.
Hamilton, and in a communication made by him to the Professor of Natural
History in the Edinburgh University gave the following additional
particulars, which he had learned from the skipper and one of the crew
of the boat. "They had the animal for three hours within the boat: the
body was without scales or hair; it was of a silvery grey colour above,
and white below; it was like the human skin; no gills were observed, nor
fins on the back or belly. The tail was like that of a dog-fish; the
mammae were about as large as those of a woman; the mouth and lips were
very distinct, and resembled the human. Not one of the six men dreamed
of a doubt of its being a mermaid, and it could not be suggested that
they were influenced by their fears, for the mermaid is not an object of
terror to fishermen: it is rather a welcome guest, and danger is
apprehended from its experiencing bad treatment." Mr. Edmonston
concludes by saying that "the usual resources of scepticism that the
seals and other sea-animals appearing under certain circumstances,
operating upon an excited imagination, and so producing ocular illusion,
cannot avail here. It is quite impossible that six Shetland fishermen
could commit such a mistake." It would seem that the narrator demands
that his readers shall be silenced, if unconvinced; but
"He that complies against his will
Is of his own opinion still."
This incident is well-attested, and merits respectful and careful
consideration; but I decline to admit any such impossibility of error in
observation or description on the part of the fishermen, or the further
impossibility of recognising in the animal captured by them one known to
naturalists. The particulars given in this instance, and also of the
supposed merman seen cast ashore dead in 1719 by the Rev. Peter Angel
(p. 22), are sufficiently accurate descriptions of a warm-blooded marine
animal, with which the Shetlanders, and probably Mr. Edmonston also,
were unacquainted, namely, the rytina, of which I shall have more to say
presently; and these occurrences afford some slight hope that this
remarkable beast may not have become extinct in 1768, as has been
supposed, but that it may still exist somewhat further south than it was
met with by its original describer, Steller.
Turning to Ireland, we find the same credence in the semi-human fish,
or fish-tailed human being. In the autumn of 1819 it was affirmed that
"a creature appeared on the Irish coast, about the size of a girl ten
years of age, with a bosom as prominent as one of sixteen, having a
profusion of long dark-brown hair, and full, dark eyes. The hands and
arms were formed like those of a man, with a slight web connecting the
upper part of the fingers, which were frequently employed in throwing
back and dividing the hair. The tail appeared like that of a dolphin."
This creature remained basking on the rocks during an hour, in the sight
of numbers of people, until frightened by the flash of a musket, when
"Away she went with a sea-gull's scream,
And a splash of her saucy tail,"[61]
[61] Tom Hood. 'The Mermaid at Margate.'
for it instantly plunged with a scream into the sea.
From Irish legends we learn that those sea-nereids, the "Merrows," or
"Moruachs" came occasionally from the sea, gained the affections of men,
and interested themselves in their affairs; and similar traditions of
the "Morgan" (sea-women) and the "Morverch" (sea-daughters) are current
in Brittany.
In English poetry the mermaid has been the subject of many charming
verses, and Shakspeare alludes to it in his plays no less than six
times. The head-quarters of these "daughters of the sea" in England, or
of the belief in their existence, are in Cornwall. There the fisherman,
many a time and
"Oft, beneath the silver moon,[62]
Has heard, afar, the mermaid sing,"
and has listened, so they say, to
"The mermaid's sweet sea-soothing lay
That charmed the dancing waves to sleep."[62]
[62] John Leyden.
Mr. Robert Hunt, F.R.S., in his collection of the traditions and
superstitions of old Cornwall,[63] records several curious legends of
the "merrymaids" and "merrymen" (the local name of mermaids), which he
had gathered from the fisher-folk and peasants in different parts of
that county.
[63] 'Romances and Drolls of the West of England.' London: Hotten,
1871.
And, in a pleasant article in 'All the Year Round,'[64] 1865, "A Cornish
Vicar"[65] mentions some of the superstitions of the people in his
neighbourhood, and the perplexing questions they occasionally put to
him. One of his parishioners, an old man named Anthony Cleverdon, but
who was popularly known as "Uncle Tony," having been the seventh son of
his parents, in direct succession, was looked upon, in consequence, as a
soothsayer. This "ancient augur" confided to his pastor many highly
efficacious charms and formularies, and, in return, sought for
information from him on other subjects. One day he puzzled the parson by
a question which so well illustrates the local ideas concerning
mermaids, and the sequel of which is, moreover, so humorously related by
the vicar, that I venture to quote his own words, as follows:--
[64] Vol. xiii. p. 336.
[65] The "Cornish Vicar" was, evidently, the Rev. Robert Stephen
Hawker, M.A., Vicar of Morwenstow, and author of 'Echoes from Old
Cornwall,' 'Footprints of Former Men in Cornwall,' etc.
"Uncle Tony said to me, 'Sir, there is one thing I want to ask you, if
I may be so free, and it is this: why should a merrymaid, that will ride
about upon the waters in such terrible storms, and toss from sea to sea
in such ruckles as there be upon the coast, why should she never lose
her looking-glass and comb?' 'Well, I suppose,' said I, 'that if there
are such creatures, Tony, they must wear their looking-glasses and combs
fastened on somehow, like fins to a fish.' 'See!' said Tony, chuckling
with delight, 'what a thing it is to know the Scriptures, like your
reverence; I should never have found it out. But there's another point,
sir, I should like to know, if you please; I've been bothered about it
in my mind hundreds of times. Here be I, that have gone up and down
Holacombe cliffs and streams fifty years come next Candlemas, and I've
gone and watched the water by moonlight and sunlight, days and nights,
on purpose, in rough weather and smooth (even Sundays, too, saving your
presence), and my sight as good as most men's, and yet I never could
come to see a merrymaid in all my life: how's that, sir?' 'Are you sure,
Tony,' I rejoined, 'that there are such things in existence at all?'
'Oh, sir, my old father seen her twice! He was out one night for wreck
(my father watched the coast, like most of the old people formerly), and
it came to pass that he was down at the duck-pool on the sand at
low-water tide, and all to once he heard music in the sea. Well, he
croped on behind a rock, like a coastguardsman watching a boat, and got
very near the music ... and there was the merrymaid, very plain to be
seen, swimming about upon the waves like a woman bathing--and singing
away. But my father said it was very sad and solemn to hear--more like
the tune of a funeral hymn than a Christmas carol, by far--but it was so
sweet that it was as much as he could do to hold back from plunging into
the tide after her. And he an old man of sixty-seven, with a wife and a
houseful of children at home. The second time was down here by Holacombe
Pits. He had been looking out for spars--there was a ship breaking up in
the Channel--and he saw some one move just at half-tide mark, so he went
on very softly, step by step, till he got nigh the place, and there was
the merrymaid sitting on a rock, the bootyfullest merrymaid that eye
could behold, and she was twisting about her long hair, and dressing it,
just like one of our girls getting ready for her sweetheart on the
Sabbath-day. The old man made sure he should greep hold of her before
ever she found him out, and he had got so near that a couple of paces
more and he would have caught her by the hair, as sure as tithe or tax,
when, lo and behold, she looked back and glimpsed him! So, in one moment
she dived head-foremost off the rock, and then tumbled herself
topsy-turvy about in the water, and cast a look at my poor father, and
grinned like a seal.'" And a seal it probably was that Tony's "poor
father" saw.
What, then, are these mermaids and mermen, a belief in whose existence
has prevailed in all ages, and amongst all the nations of the earth?
Have they, really, some of the parts and proportions of man, or do they
belong to another order of mammals on which credulity and inaccurate
observation have bestowed a false character?
Mr. Swainson, a naturalist of deserved eminence, has maintained on
purely scientific grounds, that there must exist a marine animal uniting
the general form of a fish with that of a man; that by the laws of
Nature the natatorial type of the _Quadrumana_ is most assuredly
wanting, and that, apart from man, a being connecting the seals with the
monkeys is required to complete the circle of quadrumanous animals.[66]
[66] 'Geography and Distribution of Animals.'
Mr. Gosse[67] argues that all the characters which Mr. Swainson selects
as marking the natatorial type of animals belong to man, and that he
being, in his savage state, a great swimmer, is the true aquatic
primate, which Mr. Swainson regards as absent. Mr. Gosse admits,
however, that "nature has an odd way of mocking at our impossibilities,
and" that "it _may be_ that green-haired maidens with oary tails, lurk
in the ocean caves, and keep mirrors and combs upon their rocky
shelves;" and the conclusion he arrives at is that the combined evidence
"induces a strong suspicion that the northern seas may hold forms of
life as yet uncatalogued by science."
[67] 'Romance of Natural History,' 2nd Series.
That there are animals in the northern and other seas with which we are
unacquainted, is more than probable: discoveries of animals of new
species are constantly being made, especially in the life of the deep
sea. But I venture to think that the production of an animal at present
unknown is quite unnecessary to account for the supposed appearances of
mermaids.
We have in the form and habits of the _Phocidae_, or earless seals, a
sufficient interpretation of almost every incident of the kind that has
occurred north of the Equator--of those in which protuberant _mammae_ are
described, we must presently seek another explanation. The round, plump,
expressive face of a seal, the beautiful, limpid eyes, the hand-like
fore-paws, the sleek body, tapering towards the flattened hinder fins,
which are directed backwards, and spread out in the form of a broad fin,
like the tail of a fish, might well give the idea of an animal having
the anterior part of its body human and the posterior half piscine.
In the habits of the seals, also, we may trace those of the supposed
mermaid, and the more easily the better we are acquainted with them. All
seals are fond of leaving the water frequently. They always select the
flattest and most shelving rocks which have been covered at high tide,
and prefer those that are separated from the mainland. They generally go
ashore at half-tide, and invariably lie with their heads towards the
water, and seldom more than a yard or two from it. There they will often
remain, if undisturbed, for six hours; that is, until the returning tide
floats them off the rock. As for the sweet melody, "so melting soft,"
that must depend much on the ear and musical taste of the listener. I
have never heard a seal utter any vocal sounds but a porcine grunt, a
plaintive moan, and a pitiful whine. But another habit of the seals has,
probably more than anything else, caused them to be mistaken for
semi-human beings--namely, that of poising themselves upright in the
water with the head and the upper third part of the body above the
surface.
One calm sunny morning in August, 1881, a fine schooner-yacht, on board
of which I was a guest, was slowly gliding out of the mouth of the river
Maas, past the Hook of Holland, into the North Sea, when a seal rose
just ahead of us, and assumed the attitude above described. It waited
whilst we passed it, inspecting us apparently with the greatest
interest; then dived, swam in the direction in which we were sailing, so
as to intercept our course, and came up again, sitting upright as
before. This it repeated three times, and so easily might it have been
taken for a mermaid, that one of the party, who was called on deck to
see it, thought, at first, that it was a boy who had swam off from the
shore to the vessel on a begging expedition.
Laing, in his account of a voyage to the North, mentions having seen a
seal under similar circumstances.
A young seal which was brought from Yarmouth to the Brighton Aquarium
in 1873, habitually sat thus, showing his head and a considerable
portion of his body out of water. His bath was so shallow in some parts
that he was able to touch the bottom, and, with his after-flippers
tucked under him, like a lobster's tail, and spread out in front, he
would balance himself on his hind quarters, and look inquisitively at
everybody, and listen attentively to everything within sight and
hearing. When he was satisfied that no one was likely to interfere with
him, and that it was unnecessary to be on the alert, he would half-close
his beautiful, soft eyes, and either contentedly pat, stroke, and
scratch his little fat stomach with his right paw, or flap both of them
across his breast in a most ludicrous manner, exactly as a cabman warms
the tips of his fingers on a wintry day, by swinging his arms vigorously
across his chest, and striking his hands against his body on either
side. He was very sensitive to musical sounds, as many dogs are, and
when a concert took place in the building a high note from one of the
vocalists would cause him to utter a mournful wail, and to dive with a
splash that made the water fly, the audience smile, and the singer
frown.
Captain Scoresby tells us that he had seen the walrus with its head
above water, and in such a position that it required little stretch of
imagination to mistake it for a human being, and that on one occasion of
this kind the surgeon of his ship actually reported to him that he had
seen a man with his head above water.
Peter Gunnersen's merman (p. 24), who "blew up his cheeks and made a
kind of roaring noise" before diving, was probably a "bladder-nose"
seal. The males of that species have on the head a peculiar pad, which
they can dilate at pleasure, and their voice is loud and discordant.
The appearance and behaviour of Steller's "sea-ape," described on p.
25, may, I think, be attributed to one of the eared seals, the so-called
sea-lions, or sea-bears. Every one who has seen these animals fed must
have noticed the rapidity with which they will dive and swim to any part
of their pond where they expect to receive food, and how, like a dog
after a pebble, they will keenly watch their keeper's movements, and
start in the direction to which he is apparently about to throw a fish,
even before the latter has left his hand. This may be seen at the
Zoological Gardens, Regent's Park, and, better than anywhere else in
Europe, at the Jardin d'Acclimatation, Paris. It would be quite in
accordance with their habits that one of these _Otaria_ should dive
under a ship, and rise above the surface on either side, eagerly
surveying those on board, in hope of obtaining food, or from mere
curiosity.