Among the thousand-and-one marvels displayed in the far-famed Palace
of Crystal during part of the last ever-memorable year, not the least
puzzling to the majority of visitors, was an object resembling a
stuffed bird more than any other production of art or nature, but very
unlike any bird previously observed by the wondering spectators in
either museum or menagerie, or even on the painted panels that
emblazon the crude and extravagant conceptions of mediæval heraldry.
In the catalogue, the really ingenious piece of workmanship was
entitled a 'Life-size model of the dodo'--a name, our readers know,
appertaining to a now extinct bird, the very existence of which was at
one time denied by shrewd men and good naturalists. Perhaps the
following history of this curious creature, from its first to its last
appearance before the eyes of men, will not be considered devoid of
interest.
In the year 1598, a division of a Dutch squadron on its way to Bantam,
rediscovered what was then called the island of Cerne; and a boat's
crew having been sent ashore to reconnoitre, returned with nine great
birds, a number of smaller ones, and the welcome intelligence of a
secure and convenient harbour. Those nine great birds were the first
of the doomed dodo race that ever came in contact with their destined
destroyer, man; at least, this is undoubtedly their first appearance
on record. The exact date of such an event is note-worthy: it occurred
on the 18th of May. De Warwijk, the Dutch admiral, brought his ships
into the harbour; and finding no traces of man--the birds being so
unused to his presence, that they suffered themselves to be caught by
hand--took formal possession of the island, changing its name to
Mauritius, in honour of Prince Maurice, then Stadtholder of Holland.
Immense tortoises, delicious fish, thousands of turtledoves, and dodos
_à discrétion_, regaled the half-starved and scurvy-stricken seamen.
The name dodo, however, had not then been given. Warwick's men,
revelling in the luxuries of this virgin isle, became fastidious.
Finding, after a hearty meal on the newly-discovered bird, that its
extreme fatness disagreed with them, they gave it the name of
_walghvogel_[1]--the nausea-causing bird. With our own experience--and
that is somewhat extensive--of sailors in general, and Dutch ones in
particular, we must infer that these dodos were very, very fat,
indeed. A narrative of this voyage[2] was published in Dutch at
Amsterdam in 1601, went through many editions, and has been translated
into various languages. The work contains an engraving, representing
the landing-place at the Mauritius; the carpenters, coopers, and
blacksmiths, busy at work; the preacher and his orderly congregation;
while tortoises, a dodo, and other animals, wander about, heedless of
the presence of man. This is the first engraving of the dodo, and,
judging from more pictures of greater pretension, by no means a bad
likeness; indeed, the whole sketch bears strong evidence of its having
been taken from nature. In the letter-press, the walghvogel is
described as a large bird, the size of a swan, with a huge head
furnished with a kind of hood; and in lieu of wings, having three or
four small pen-feathers, the tail consisting of four or five small
curled feathers of a gray colour.
De Bry, an engraver of considerable eminence, and a bookseller at
Frankfort-on-the-Maine, being in England in 1587, was induced by our
famous compiler, Hakluyt, to commence the publication of an
illustrated series of voyages, which, after his death, was continued
by his sons. Amongst bibliographers, this compilation is well known as
the _Collection of Great and Little Voyages_. The volumes comprising
the 'little voyages,' relating exclusively to the East, are entitled
_Indiæ Orientalis_; they were issued in parts, and their period of
publication extended from 1598 to 1624. The walghvogel is merely
mentioned, but an engraving gives a fanciful representation of the
doings of another Dutch crew on the island. Two gallants, elaborately
attired, are represented riding on a tortoise; while ten others,
seated in a tortoise's shell, are holding a grand symposium. Three
birds are depicted in this plate, which the letter-press says are
walghvogels, but which our eyes tell us are cassowaries, then termed
emeus. It is evident, then, that De Bry had not, at that time, seen a
sketch or description of the dodo: if he had, he would not thus have
confounded it with the cassowary. Moreover, in the letter-press
explanatory of the engraving, it is stated that a living walghvogel
had been brought to Holland, which clearly proves that he had
erroneously confounded the two birds; for a living cassowary, even at
that early date, had actually been transported thither. But though
there can be little doubt, that one or more living dodos were
subsequently brought to Europe, it is certain that such an event did
not take place till after L'Ecluse wrote, in 1605. About the same time
that De Bry published this _fourth_ part of _Indiæ Orientalis_, the
Dutch work appeared containing the account of the voyages of the whole
eight ships; and then De Bry, in his _fifth_ part, which came out
later in the same year, was enabled to give a correct representation
of the dodo, and a complete account of the voyages of the whole
squadron. We have been more precise on this part of our subject than
might seem necessary; but by being so, we have smoothed over an
inequality that has been a stumbling-block to almost all previous
writers on the dodo.
L'Ecluse, professor of botany at Leyden, one of the greatest
naturalists of his age, published his _Exoticorum_ in 1605. In it he
gives an engraved likeness and description of the dodo, which he
obtained from persons who had sailed in De Warwijk's fleet, stating
that he had himself seen only the leg of the bird--a sure proof that
no live specimen had, at that time, been brought to Holland.
Passing over the visits to the isles of four old Dutch navigators, who
all describe the dodo under different names, we come to the quaint old
traveller, Sir Thomas Herbert, who touched at the Mauritius in 1627.
In his _Relation of some Yeare's Travaile_, he thus describes the
bird:--'The dodo; a bird the Dutch call walghvogel or dod eersen; her
body is round and fat, which occasions the slow pace, or that her
corpulencie; and so great as few of them weigh less than fifty pound:
better to the eye than stomack: greasy appetites may perhaps commend
them, but to the indifferently curious in nourishment, prove
offensive. Let's take her picture: her visage darts forth melancholy,
as if sensible of Nature's injurie in framing so great and massie a
body to be directed by such small and complementall wings, as are
unable to hoise her from the ground; serving only to prove her a bird,
which otherwise might be doubted of. Her head is variously drest, the
one-half hooded with downy blackish feathers; the other perfectly
naked, of a whitish hue, as if a transparent lawne had covered it. Her
bill is very howked, and bends downwards; the thrill or
breathing-place is in the midst of it, from which part to the end the
colour is a light green mixed with a pale yellowe; her eyes be round
and small, and bright as diamonds; her clothing is of finest downe,
such as you see on goslins. Her trayne is (like a China beard) of
three or four short feathers; her legs thick, black, and strong; her
tallons or pounces sharp; her stomach fiery hot, so as she easily can
digest stones.'
As a 'China beard' consists of only a few hairs under the chin, the
above simile is correct; but in the French edition of these travels,
the translator erroneously rendered the words _oiseau de Chine_,
Chinese bird, and subsequently, a celebrated French savant raised a
magnificent hypothetical edifice on the basis of the mistranslation.
Herbert was the first who used the word dodo as the name of this bird,
stating it to be derived from the Portuguese _doudo_, a simpleton; but
as he is generally somewhat wild and vague in his etymologies, and as
we have no intelligence whatever of the dodo through the Portuguese,
we may safely conclude that the name is of Dutch derivation. In the
old black-letter Dutch and English dictionary now before us, we find
the word _dodoor_ translated a humdrum, which, Dr Johnson tells us,
means 'a stupid person.' Now, if the name be derived from the bird's
simplicity, the Dutch _dodoor_ is as near the mark as the Portuguese
_doudo_. But it may be that the name was given on account of the
peculiar form of the bird, and not in illusion to its mental capacity;
and, consequently, even _dodoor_ may not be the true origin. We more
than suspect that it is really derived from a vulgar, compound
epithet, used by Dutch seamen to denote an awkward, clumsily-formed,
inactive person. This inquiry, however, is beyond our humble powers,
and should be prosecuted by some learned professor--such, for
instance, as Jonathan Oldbuck's friend, Dr Heavysterne, of the Low
Countries.
We next hear of the dodo, in a curiously indirect manner, through an
uneducated French adventurer named Cauche, who passed several years in
Madagascar and the adjacent islands. His narrative, edited by one
Morissot, an _avocat_, was published in 1651, and created great
interest in France. In 1638, he was at the Mauritius, and there
saw a bird which he describes under the name of the bird of
Nazareth--_oiseau de Nazaret_--so termed, as he states, from its being
found on the island of Nazareth, which lies to the northward of the
Mauritius. The description is an accurate one of the dodo, with the
exception of two particulars--one, as to the number and position of
the toes; the other, as to the creature having no tongue--a prevalent
opinion then amongst the vulgar with respect to several other birds.
Though there is no record of this bird of Nazareth having been seen by
any one but Cauche, yet, ever since, his phantom-like picture has
skulked in the obscurity, adding to the mystery which enveloped the
dodo. Time, however, has now exorcised it. There never was a bird of
Nazareth. What Cauche saw was undoubtedly a dodo; and his errors of
description are what any person, not a naturalist, might commit.
_Oiseau de Nazaret_ is simply a corruption of _oiseau de nausée_--the
original French name of the dodo, a literal translation of the
original Dutch walghvogel. It is a curious coincidence, that as the
bird of Nazareth has been found in books only, so the island of
Nazareth has been found only on paper. At first, it appeared quite a
respectable island; as maritime discovery progressed, it degenerated
to a reef, and from that to a shoal; till at last, expunged from the
more correct charts of modern hydrographers, it no longer can boast of
a local habitation or a name.
About the same time that Cauche was at the Mauritius, the citizens of
London were gratified by the sight of a living dodo. Of this very
interesting event, there is only one solitary record at present known,
but it is an authentic one. In a manuscript commentary on Sir Thomas
Browne's _Vulgar Errors_--preserved in the British Museum--written by
Sir Hamon L'Estrange, father of the more celebrated Sir Roger, there
occurs the following passage:--
'About 1638, as I walked London streets, I [3] the picture of a
strange fowle hung out upon a cloth [3]vas, and myselfe, with one or
two more then in company, went in to see it. It was kept in a chamber,
and was somewhat bigger than the largest turkey-cock, and so legged
and footed, but stouter and thicker, and of a more erect shape,
coloured before like the breast of a young cock-fesan, and on the back
of a dunne or deare colour. The keeper called it a dodo; and in the
end of a chymney in the chamber there lay a heap of large
pebble-stones, whereof hee gave it many in our sight, some as big as
nutmegs; and the keeper told us shee eats them (conducing to
digestion); and though I remember not how farr the keeper was
questioned therein, yet I am confident that afterwards she cast them
all againe.'
We next, in order of time, come to the famous Tradescant dodo. When or
where the Tradescants procured it, is unknown; it is first mentioned
in the catalogue of their museum, published by the surviving
Tradescant, in 1656, as 'a dodar from the island Mauritius; it is not
able to flie, being so big.' We shall presently have occasion to
detail the subsequent history of this interesting specimen.
The last notice of the dodo's existence is found in a manuscript
journal--in the Sloane Collection--kept by a 'Mr Ben. Harry,' who was
chief officer of the English ship _Berkley Castle_, on a voyage to and
from India in 1679. It appears that, the ship becoming leaky on their
return voyage, they 'made for the Marushes,' where they repaired the
vessel, and landed and dried the cargo. At this point of their
proceedings, we shall let this intelligent mariner speak for himself:
'Now, having a little respitt, I will make a little description of the
island, ffirst of its producks, then of its parts: ffirst, of all
winged and feathered ffowle, the less passant are dodos, whose fflesh
is very hard. The Dutch, pleading a property in this island because of
their settlement, have made us pay for goates one penny per pound.'
Though the Dutch did not form a regular settlement on the Mauritius
till 1644, yet their vessels and those of other nations frequently
called for supplies; and many persons--runaway seamen and
others--lived on the island. It is not surprising that the awkward,
slow-paced dodo, incapable of flight, and whose nest, as we are told
by Cauche, never contained more than one egg, became totally extinct
soon after coming into contact with man. Nor would man alone be
directly the dodo's destroyer; his immediate followers, the cat, hog,
and dog, must have been fatal neighbours to its young. Leguat, a
gentleman of education, spent several months on the Mauritius in 1693,
but makes no mention of the dodo. He says: 'This island was formerly
full of birds, but now they are becoming very scarce;' and further
adds: 'Here are pigs of the China breed. These beasts do a great deal
of damage to the inhabitants, by devouring all the young animals they
can catch.' Less than a century, then, sufficed to extirpate the dodo.
It was first seen in 1598--it was last noticed in 1679; and as Leguat,
in 1693, does not mention it, we may conclude that it became extinct
at some period between the last two dates. In 1712, the Dutch
evacuated the Mauritius, and three years afterwards the French took
possession, naming it l'Ile de France. With this change of population,
the very tradition of the dodo's existence on that island was
completely lost.
The relics of the dodo, still left to admiring naturalists, are few,
but, in a scientific view, very precious. They consist in all of a
head and leg in the Ashmolean Museum at Oxford, a leg in the British
Museum, and a head in the Royal Museum (_Kunst-Kammer_) at Copenhagen.
The head and leg at Oxford are the sole remains of Tradescant's dodo.
After the death of the last of that family, Ashmole obtained
possession of their museum, which he subsequently presented to the
University of Oxford. This dodo can be clearly traced to have been in
the Ashmolean Museum until the year 1755, when, having been suffered
to fall into decay, it was, by the order of the vice-chancellor of the
university, and a majority of the visitors, condemned to be burned!
For a long time after, the dodo was forgotten, or the fact of its once
having existed was treated as a mere myth, till Dr Shaw, in 1793,
rummaging among the refuse of the museum, rediscovered this identical
head and leg. The question arises: How were these relics preserved?
Did some university magnate desire their retention from the flames?
Did some conservative curator slily conceal them before the fatal
mandate was executed? No! Even this paltry palliation must be refused
to the learned Vandals. It is to Ashmole himself that science is
indebted for these remains of the last specimen of a whole species.
That litigious old Chancery lawyer, when he presented his museum to
Oxford, did so under certain restrictions, which he drew up with his
own hands, and which the university was bound to obey. One of these
rules decrees, that any specimen in a bad condition should not be
totally destroyed; but any hard parts, such as the head, horns, or
feet, should be put away in a closet. This head is still in tolerable
preservation. The singular form of the beak and nostrils, the bare
skin of the face, combined with the partly feathered head, which the
old writers compared to a hood, are still strikingly apparent. Of the
history of the leg in the British Museum, little is known. It formerly
belonged to the Royal Society, and is in all probability the same that
is mentioned in the catalogue of a museum that was offered for sale in
London by a person named Hubert, in 1664. It is certain that the leg
at Oxford, and that at London, did not belong to the same bird; for
though they are right and left, and their perfect agreement in
character proves their identity of species, yet one is nearly an inch
longer than the other. The head at Copenhagen was described by
Olearius as early as 1666, in the catalogue of the museum of the Duke
of Schleswig at Gottorf. In 1720, that museum was removed to
Copenhagen, but it was not till within the last few years, when the
history of the dodo excited so strongly the attention of naturalists,
that this head was successfully sought for, and disinterred from a
mass of rubbish, by Dr Reinhardt.
Many have been the conflicting opinions among naturalists with respect
to the class of birds the dodo should be placed in. Space will not
permit us to enter into these discussions. Suffice it to say, it is
generally agreed now that the dodo was a gigantic, short-winged,
fruit-eating pigeon. The English naturalist, Mr Strickland, who has
devoted an amazing amount of labour and research to the elucidation of
this mysterious question, and Dr Reinhardt of Copenhagen, were the
first who referred the dodo to the pigeon tribe, having arrived almost
simultaneously, by two distinct chains of reasoning, at the same
conclusion; and their opinion is corroborated by a dissection that was
lately made of part of the head at Oxford.
There can be no doubt that the dodo was one of those instances, well
known to naturalists, of a species, or part of a species, remaining
permanently in an undeveloped state. As the Greenland whale never
acquires teeth, but remains a suckling all its life; as the proteus of
the Carniolian caverns, and the axolotl of the Mexican lakes, never
attain a higher form than that of the tadpole; so the dodo may be
described as a permanent nestling covered with down, and possessing
only the rudiments of tail and wings. Nor are we to consider such
organisations as imperfect. Evidently intended for peculiar situations
and habits of life, they are powerful evidences of the design
displayed in the works of an All-wise Creator. Wandering about in the
forests of the Mauritius, where, previous to the advent of man, it had
not a single enemy, the dodo, revelling in the perpetual luxuriance of
a tropical climate, subsisted on the nuts that fell from the
surrounding trees. Its powerful bill enabled it to break, and its
capacious, stone-supplied gizzard to digest, the hardest shells and
kernels; and thus a kind of frugivorous vulture, it cleared away the
decaying vegetable matter. In no other place than an island,
uninhabited by man or any other animal of prey, could the helpless
dodo have existed. Some fancy it may yet be found in Madagascar. Vain
idea! Its carnivorous enemies among the lower animals, would have cut
short the existence of the dodo, even if man had never planted his
conquering footsteps upon that island.