CHAPTER XV

MORE AS TO THE BARNACLE AND THE GOOSE

IT is clear that there was a widespread tradition known to the learned

in the early centuries of the Christian era, according to which there

existed in some distant Eastern land a tree which bore buds or fruits

which became converted into birds. Connected with this, and perhaps

really a part of it, there existed a tradition that marine "barnacles"

gave birth to geese from within their shells, or are in some way

converted into geese. The two stories were in some localities and

narrations combined, though in others they were distinct. On the coast

of Ireland the early missionaries of the Church (learned men acquainted

with the traditions of their time) identified the migratory brent goose

with the bird said to be produced by the barnacle; and elsewhere, on

the Scottish coast, the barnacles were (it was reported) found growing

on trees. There is no such resemblance between barnacles and brent

geese as to have suggested to the Irish monks the regular and natural

conversion of one into the other. It seems most probable that the

learned churchmen knew the traditional story already before arriving

in Ireland, and applied it to the barnacles and the geese which

they discovered around them. Eventually the word "barnacle" without

qualification was applied to the geese, as we see in Gerard's account

given in the last chapter. Is there, it may be asked, anything further

known as to such a tradition, and the place and manner of its origin?

In the absence of such knowledge, an ingenious attempt was made by my

old friend, Professor Max Müller, to account for the tradition by the

similarity of the names, which he erroneously supposed had been given

_independently_ to the barnacle and to the "Hibernian" goose. I will

refer to this below, but now I will proceed to give the most probable

solution of the mystery as to the tradition of the tree, the goose,

and the barnacle. Its discovery is not more than twenty years old, and

is due to M. Frederic Houssay, a distinguished French zoologist of the

Ecole Normale, who published it in the "Revue Archeologique" in 1895.

It has not hitherto been brought to the notice of English readers, and

I shall therefore give a full account of it.

[Illustration: FIG. 14.--Fanciful designs by Mykenæan artists, showing

change of the cuttle-fish (octopus or "poulpe") into a bull's head and

other shapes.

a, Octopus drawn on a goblet from Crete, the arms reduced to two, the

eyes detached.

b and c, Bull's head variations of the octopus, from designs found at

Koban in the Caucasus.

d, Spiral treatment of the arms of the octopus (a pose actually seen in

living specimens).

e, f, Human faces painted on Cretan jars across the whole width of the

neck, the design being derived from the octopus with detached eyes as

in Fig. a. Such designs survive long after their origin is forgotten,

as (according to M. Houssay) the legend of the barnacle and the goose

survived two thousand years after the Mykenæan drawings assimilating

one to the other had been forgotten.]

The solution is as follows: The Mykenæan population of the islands of

Cyprus and Crete, in the period 800 to 1000 years before Christ, were

great makers of pottery, and painted large earthernware basins and

vases with a variety of decorative representations of marine life, of

fishes, butterflies, birds, and trees. Some of these are to be seen in

the British Museum at Bloomsbury, where I examined them a few years

ago. Others have been figured by the well-known archæologists, MM.

Perrot and Chipiez, in the sixth volume of their work, "L'Ossuaire de

Crète." M. Perrot consulted M. Houssay, in his capacity of zoologist,

in regard to these Mykenæan drawings, which bear, as M. Houssay states,

the evidence of having been designed _after nature_ by one who knew

the things in life, although they are not slavishly "copied" from

nature. These early Mykenæan painters on pottery were members of a

community who worshipped the great mother--"Nature"--as Astarte or

Aphrodite risen from the foam of the sea. Being sailors and fishermen,

marine life was even more familiar to them than that of the land, and

they placed little models of sea animals as votive offerings in the

temples of the great mother, and also honoured her in decorating their

pottery with marine creatures. The little fish, Hippocampus, called

the sea-horse, the sea-urchin, the octopus, the argonaut and its

floating cradle, the sea-anemone, and the butterfly-like Pteropod,

were subjects used by these artists for which they found terrestrial

counterparts. The sea-horse was convertible decoratively into a true

horse, with intermediate phases imagined by the artists; the sea-urchin

into a hedgehog, the sea-anemone into a flower, and the Pteropod into

a true butterfly. These artists loved to exercise a little fancy and

ingenuity. By gradual reduction in the number and size of outstanding

parts--a common rule in the artistic "schematizing" or "conventional

simplification" of natural form--they converted the octopus and the

argonaut, with their eight arms, into a bull's head with a pair of

spiral horns (Fig. 14). In the same spirit it seems that they observed

and drew the barnacle floating on timber or thrown up after a storm

on their shores. They detected a resemblance in the marking of its

shells to the plumage of a goose, whilst in the curvature of its stalk

they saw a resemblance to the long neck of the bird. The barnacle's

jointed plumose legs or cirri and other details suggested points of

agreement with the feathers of the bird. They brought the barnacle and

the goose together, not guided thereto by any pre-existing legend, but

by a simple and not uncommon artistic desire to follow up a superficial

suggestion of similarity and to conceive of intermediate connecting

forms. Some of their fanciful drawings with this purpose are shown in

Figs. 15, 16, and 17. These (excepting the drawing of the barnacle

lying within its opened shell) are copied from M. Houssay's paper

on the subject, and were taken from the work of M. Perrot on Cretan

pottery.

[Illustration: FIG. 15.--The Goose and the Barnacle.

A, Drawing of a Ship's Barnacle attached to a piece of timber by its

"peduncle" or stalk, which represents the neck of a goose, if we regard

the shell-covered region as the goose's body. From a sketch by M.

Frederic Houssay published in the "Revue Archæologique," January 1895.

B, Copy of a drawing on an ancient Mykenæan pot found in Crete, and

figured by M. Perrot in his "Ossuaire de Crète" vol. vi. p. 936. It is

a fantastic blend of the goose and the barnacle. The barnacle's stalk

is given a beak and an eye; the body of the bird corresponds to the

shells of the barnacle both in shape and marking. There are no wings or

legs, but the curious single limb which I have marked pe is obviously

the same thing as that marked pe in figure C, which represents the

barnacle when cut open so as to show the structures within the shell,

pe is the rod-like body at the end of which the seminal duct opens.

It is seen in the drawing of the expanded barnacle (Fig. 10), lying

between the two groups of six forked and jointed legs or "cirri."

C, A correct modern drawing of a ship's barnacle, with the shells of

one side removed so as to show the six double legs of one side, the

seminal rod (pe), and the internal organs. This is what Sir Robert

Moray and his mediaeval predecessors saw on opening the barnacle's

shell and described as "a young bird complete in every detail."]

[Illustration: FIG. 16.--Copy of a series of modified geese painted

on an early Mykenæan pot, figured by M. Perrot. Each has two jointed

appendages on the back, which suggest the wing feathers of the bird or

two of the jointed legs (cirri) of the barnacle, which issue in life

from this part of the barnacle's shell. The legs of the geese are very

small and absent in the fifth. The markings on the body differ in each

bird, but recall the shell of the barnacle divided into several valves

marked with parallel striations. They may also pass for the plumage of

the bird.]

The intention of the artist to fantastically insist on intermediate

phases between goose and barnacle is placed beyond doubt by certain

details. For instance, in Fig. 16, the little jointed processes on

the back of the goose marked a, correspond in position to the cirri

or legs of the barnacle. They are reduced in number to two, and

simplified in form so as to pass for the tips of the wings of the

goose. The goose's own feet are represented in their natural position.

The most extraordinary piece of resemblance in detail is that given

in Fig. 15, B, which is a copy of a very much "barnaculized" goose

from one of these ancient dishes. What does the Mykenæan artist mean

to represent by the strange single leg-like limb marked pe? When we

carefully examine the barnacle's soft body concealed by its shell, it

becomes obvious that this leg-like thing corresponds to the single

stalk-like body, ending in a bunch of a few hairs which is marked pe in

Fig. 15, C. This last-named figure is a careful modern representation

of the soft living barnacle, as seen when the shells of one side are

removed. The cylindrical body pe of Fig. 15, C, which is drawn by the

Mykenæan artist on an exaggerated scale in Fig. 15, B, is the external

opening of the seminal duct of the barnacle. It is remarkable that the

Mykenæan pottery-painter had observed the soft "fish" of the barnacle

so minutely as to select this unpaired and very peculiar-looking

structure, and represent it of exaggerated size attached in its proper

position on the barnacle-like body of a goose. This very striking

transference of a peculiar and characteristic organ of the barnacle to

the body of the goose by the artist seems not to have been noticed by

M. Houssay.

[Illustration: FIG. 17.--Two drawings on pottery of modified geese,

from Perrot's "Ossuaire de Crète." The three lines above the back of

the upper figure probably represent the legs or cirri of the barnacle,

which are represented by two jointed appendages in the geese shown in

Fig. 16.]

M. Houssay further points out the existence on some of the Mykenæan

pottery of drawings (see "L'Ossuaire de Crète," by MM. Perrot and

Chipiez) of leaves attached to tree-like stems. These leaves (Fig.

18, a, b, c) exhibit the same markings ("venation") which we see on

the bodies of the geese in Fig. 16, especially the middle one of the

five. The leaves (or fruits?) copied by M. Houssay from the Mykenæan

pottery are attached in a series to a stem--but no one, at present,

has suggested what plant it is which is represented. The corners of

the leaf or fruit to the right and left of its stalk are thrown into

a spiral--and the half leaf or half fruit represented in Fig. 18, b,

leads us on to that drawn in Fig. 18, c, in which the spiral corner is

slightly modified in curvature so as to resemble the head and neck of

the goose as drawn in Fig. 16. Though Fig. 18, c, is as yet devoid of

legs or wing feathers (compare Fig. 16, d), the black band along the

belly with the band of vertical markings above it agrees closely with

the design on the body of the middle goose of the series drawn in Fig.

16. As these are associated in the decoration of the Mykenæan artists,

it is fairly evident that the intention has been to manipulate the

drawing of the leaf or fruit so as to make it resemble the drawing of

the goose, whilst that in its turn is modified so as to emphasize or

idealize its points of resemblance to a barnacle.

[Illustration: FIG. 18.--Leaves from the tree, drawn on a Mykenæan pot

which, according to M. Perrot, are fancifully designed so as to assume

step by step (a, b, c) the form of a goose. This appears either to

represent the tree which, according to legend, produced birds as buds

on its branches, or to be a fanciful design which gave rise to that

legend. The artist's intention of making the leaf gradually pass into

the semblance of a goose, is strongly emphasized by the purely fanciful

"venation" of the leaf which agrees with the equally fanciful ornament

of the bodies of the geese in Fig. 16, especially the middle one of the

series.]

It is true enough that the drawings from Mykenæan pots here submitted

cannot be considered as a complete demonstration that the legend of the

tree-goose originated with these drawings. But it must be remembered

that we have only a small number of examples of this pottery surviving

from a thousand years B.C. It is probable that the fanciful decorative

design of a master artist was copied and used in the painting of

hundreds of pots by mere workmen or inferior craftsmen, and that more

complete and impressive designs showing the fanciful transformation

of leaf or fruit to goose, and of goose to barnacle, existed both

before and after the making of the particular pots and jars which

have come down to us. The supposition made by M. Houssay (which I

entirely support) is that some later Levantine people--to whom these

decorated pots or copies of their decorations became known either in

the regular way of trade or as sailors' "curios"--were led to attempt

an explanation of the significance of the pictures drawn upon them,

and in accordance with a well-known and rooted tendency--interpreted

the fancies of the artist as careful representations of astonishing

fact. The existence of a tree which produces buds which become birds,

and of a barnacle which becomes transformed into a goose--is the

matter-of-fact interpretation of the few pictures of these animals

which have come down to us, modern men, painted on the few pots of that

remote Mykenæan industry now in our museums. It is not at all unlikely

that in the vast period of time between 1000 B.C. and 1000 A.D., the

more striking of these designs had been copied and familiarized in some

part of the ancient world. It is true that we do not at present know

in what part: we have not yet come across these designs of later date

than 800 B.C. The absence of the story of the tree-goose from Greek

and Roman lore is striking. Neither Aristotle nor Herodotus knew of

it, although it has been erroneously stated that they refer to it. Yet

the source of it was there in the Greek isles almost under their noses

(if one may speak of the noses of such splendid and worshipful men of

old) in the artistic work--otherwise not unknown to the Greeks--of a

civilization which preceded their own by hundreds of years. There is

other and ample evidence--as for instance that of the representation of

the "flying gallop" (see "Science from an Easy Chair," Second Series,

pp. 57 and 63), showing that Mykenæan art had little or no direct

effect on the Hellenes, although the reputation of the skill of the old

race in metal work came through many generations to them. Mykenæan art

seems to have migrated with Mykenæan settlers to the remote region of

the Caucasus. In the necropolis of Koban and other remote settlements,

Mykenæan designs in bronze and gold--including the horse in flying

gallop and octopods transformed to bull's heads--have been found and

pictured (Ernest Chantre, "Recherches anthropologique dans Caucase,"

4 vols.: Paris, 1886). They are believed to date from 500 B.C. It is

possible that in such remote regions or in some of the Greek islands

the pictures of the tree-goose and the barnacle may have survived until

the new dispensation--that is, until the days of the Byzantine Empire.

Once we can trace either the pictures or the legend up to that point,

there is no difficulty about admitting the radiation of the wonderful

story from that centre to the Jews of the Kabbalah, to Arabic writers,

and so to the learned men of the Christian Church and the seats of

learning throughout Europe and a great part of Asia.

Of the history of the legend during two thousand years we have no

actual knowledge. It remains for investigation. But undoubtedly these

Mykenæan pottery paintings remove the origin of the story to a period

two thousand years older than that of the Irish monks.

One additional fact I may mention as to the existence of the goose

and barnacle legend in the East. I am informed that in Java there is,

according to "native" story, a shell-fish the animal of which becomes

transformed into a bird--said to be a kind of snipe--and flies from

the shell. I have been shown the shell by a Dutch lady who has lived

in Java. It is a large fresh-water mussel, one of the Unionidæ. I have

failed to obtain, after inquiry, any further information as to the

prevalence or origin of this story in Java, and hope that some one who

reads this page may be able to help me.

Before leaving the story of the goose and the barnacle, the explanation

of the myth given by Prof. Max Müller in his lectures on the science of

language nearly fifty years ago, should be cited. It is an excellent

example of the misuse of hypothesis in investigation, and the attempt

to explain something which we cannot get at and examine by making a

supposition which it is even more difficult to examine and test.

Max Müller made use of the observation--a perfectly true and

interesting one--that a whole people or folk will be led to a wrong

conclusion, or to a belief in some strange and marvellous occurrence,

by the misunderstanding of a single word, attributing to that word

a sense which now fits the sound, but one quite different from that

with which the word was originally used in the tradition or history

concerned. Words are, in fact, misinterpreted after a lapse of time, or

when imported from distant lands, just as we have seen that pictures

and sculpture often have been. For instance, Richard Whittington, who

was Lord Mayor of London in 1398 and other later years, did business

in French goods, which was spoken of in the city as "achat," and

pronounced "akat." Hence in later centuries, when the prevalence of

Norman French was forgotten, it was stated (in a play produced in

1605) that Whittington owed his fortune to "a cat," and the story

of the wonderful cat and its deeds was built up "line upon line" or

"lie upon lie." Max Müller suggested that the story of the barnacle

and the goose could be similarly explained. The brant or brent goose

which frequents the Irish shore was, he supposes, called "berniculus"

by the Latin-speaking clergy as a diminutive of Hibernicus, meaning

"Irish." There is absolutely no evidence to support this. Max Müller

supposes that Hibernicus became "Hiberniculus," and then dropping the

first syllable became "Berniculus," and that this word was applied to

the "Irish goose." It might have been, but there is nothing to show

that it was. Meanwhile the ship's barnacle and other sea-shells were

called in the Celtic tongue "barnagh," "berniche," or "bernak," and the

hermit-crab is still called on the Breton coast, "Bernard l'hermite,"

a modification of "bernak l'hermite." There is no doubt that the word

"barnacle" as applied to the stalked shell-fish growing on ships'

bottoms is a diminutive of the Celtic word "bernak," or "barnak." It

became in Latin "barnacus," and then the diminutive "barnaculus," and

so "barnacle" was used for the little stalked shell-fish encrusting old

timber. According to Max Müller, later generations thus found the two

animals, goose and shell-fish, called by the same name, "bernikle," or

"barnacle." "Why?" they would ask: and then (he supposes) they would

compare the two and detect points of resemblance, until at last a very

devout and astute monk had the happy thought of declaring that the

Hibernian goose was called "berniculus," or "barnak-goose," _because_

it did not breed from eggs as other birds do, but is hatched out of

the shell of the shell-fish, also very naturally and rightly called

"berniculus," or barnak, as any one may see by carefully examining the

fish contained in the shell of the barnacle or little stalked "barnak,"

which has the complete form of a bird. Since, however, it is not a

bird, but a fish in nature and origin, this holy man declared that

the "berniculus," or "barnacle-goose," may be eaten on fast days. Max

Müller's explanation of the origin of the story is too adventurous in

its unsupported assumption that the particular goose associated with

the story was peculiarly Irish, or that, in fact, any kind of goose

was so. He also put aside the evidence of Father Damien (earlier than

the Irish story of Giraldus) referring the goose-tree to an island in

the Indies, and the report cited in the Oriental book the "Zohar."

However plausible Max Müller's theory may have appeared, it absolutely

crumbles and disappears in the presence of the Mykenæan pictures of

"barnaculized" geese, and trees budding birds--two thousand years older

than the Irish record, and nearly three thousand years earlier than the

essay of the charming and persuasive professor.

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