a shower of webs of the Gossamer-spider, _Aranea obtextrix_, is given us
by Mr. White: “On the 21st of September, 1741, being intent on field
diversions, I rose,” says this gentleman, “before daybreak; when I came
into the enclosures, I found the stubbles and clover grounds matted all
over with a thick coat of cobweb, in the meshes of which a copious and
heavy dew hung so plentifully, that the whole face of the country
seemed, as it were, covered with two or three setting-nets, drawn one
over another. When the dogs attempted to hunt, their eyes were so
blinded and hood-winked that they could not proceed, but were obliged to
lie down and scrape the incumbrances from their faces with their
fore-feet.... As the morning advanced, the sun became bright and warm,
and the day turned out one of the most lovely ones which no season but
the autumn produces; cloudless, calm, serene, and worthy of the south of
France itself.
“About nine an appearance very unusual began to demand our attention, a
shower of cobwebs falling from very elevated regions, and continuing,
without any interruption, till the close of the day. These webs were not
single filmy threads, floating in the air in all directions, but perfect
flakes of rags; some near an inch broad, and five or six long. On every
side, as the observer turned his eyes, might he behold a continual
succession of fresh flakes falling into his sight, and twinkling like
stars.”[1172]
The Times of October 9th, 1826, records another shower of gossamer as
follows: “On Sunday, Oct. 1st, 1826, a phenomenon of rare occurrence in
the neighborhood of Liverpool was observed in that vicinage, and for
many miles distant, especially at Wigan. The fields and roads were
covered with a light filmy substance, which, by many persons, was
mistaken for cotton; although they might have been convinced of their
error, as staple cotton does not exceed a few inches in length, while
the filaments seen in such incredible quantities extended as many yards.
In walking in the fields the shoes were completely covered with it, and
its floating fibres came in contact with the face in all directions.
Every tree, lamp-post, or other projecting body had arrested a portion
of it. It profusely descended at Wigan like a sleet, and in such
quantities as to affect the appearance of the atmosphere. On examination
it was found to contain small flies, some of which were so diminutive as
to require a magnifying glass to render them perceptible. The substance
so abundant in quantity, was the gossamer of the garden, or field
Spider, often met with in fine weather in the country, and of which,
according to Buffon, it would take 663,552 Spiders to produce a single
pound.”[1173]
“In the yeare that L. Paulus and C. Marcellus were Consuls,” says Pliny,
“it rained wool about the castle Carissa, neare to which a yeare after,
T. Annius Milo was slaine.”[1174] This rain of wool was doubtless a
shower of gossamer.
It was an old and strange notion that the gossamer webs were composed of
dew burned by the sun. Says Spenser:
More subtle web Arachne cannot spin;
Nor _the fine nets_, which oft we woven see,
Of _scorched dew_, do not in th’ ayre more lightly flee.[1175]
Thomson also:
How still the breeze! save what _the filmy threads_
Of _dew evaporate_ brushes from the plain.[1176]
And Quarles:
And now _autumnal dews_ were seen
To _cobweb_ every green.[1177]
Likewise Blackmore:
How part is spun in _silken threads_, and clings,
Entangled in the grass, in _gluey strings_.[1178]
Henry More also mentions this old belief; but suspected, however, the
true origin and use of the filmy threads:
As light and thin as _cobwebs_ that do fly
In the blue air caused by th’ _autumnal sun_,
That _boils the dew_, that on the earth doth lie;
May seem this whitish rag then is the scum;
Unless that wiser men mak’t the _field-spider’s loom_.[1179]
Jamieson, in his Scottish Dictionary, gives _sun-dew webs_ as a name
given in the South of Scotland to the gossamer.
The Swedes call a cobweb _dwaergsnaet_, from _dwaerg_, a species of
malevolent fairy or demon; very ingenious, and supposed often to assume
the appearance of a Spider, and to form these nets. The peasants of that
country say, _Jorden naetjar sig_, “the earth covers itself with a net,”
when the whole surface of the ground is covered with gossamer, which, it
is commonly believed, indicates the seedtime.[1180]
Voss, in a note on his Luise (iii. 17), says that the popular belief in
Germany is, that the gossamers are woven by the Dwarfs. Keightley thinks
the word gossamer is a corruption of _gorse_, or _goss samyt_, _i.e._
the _samyt_, or finely-woven silken web that lies on the _gorse_ or
furze.[1181]
A learned man and good natural philosopher, and one of the first Fellows
of the Royal Society, Robert Hooke, the author of _Micrographia_,
gravely remarked in his scientific disquisition on the gossamer, that it
“was not unlikely, but those great white clouds, that appear all the
summer time, may be of the same substance!!”[1182]
The following well-authenticated incident is told by Turner as having
occurred when he was a young practitioner: A certain young woman was
accustomed, when she went into the vault after night, to go
Spider-hunting, as she called it, setting fire to the webs of Spiders,
and burning the insects with the flame of the candle. It happened at
length, however, after this whimsey had been indulged a long time, one
of the persecuted Spiders sold its life much dearer than those hundreds
she had destroyed, and most effectually cured her of her idle cruel
practice; for, in the words of Dr. James, “lighting upon the melted
tallow of her candle, near the flame, and his legs becoming entangled
therein, so that he could not extricate himself, the flame or heat
coming on, he was made a sacrifice to his cruel persecutor, who,
delighting her eyes with the spectacle, still waiting for the flame to
take hold of him, he presently burst with a great crack, and threw his
liquor, some into her eyes, but mostly upon her lips; by means of which,
flinging away her candle, she cried out for help, as fancying herself
killed already with the poison.” In the night the woman’s lips swelled
excessively, and one of her eyes was much inflamed. Her gums and tongue
were also affected, and a continual vomiting attended. For several days
she suffered the greatest pain, but was finally cured by an old woman
with a preparation of plantain leaves and cobwebs applied to the eyes,
and taken inwardly two or three times a day.
Before this accident happened to her, this woman asserted that the smell
of the Spiders burning oftentimes so affected her head, that objects
about her seemed to turn round; she grew faint also with cold sweats,
and sometimes a light vomiting followed, yet so great was her delight in
tormenting these creatures, and driving them from their webs, that she
could not forbear, till she met with the above narrated accident.[1183]
A similar story is related by Nic. Nicholas of a man he saw at his hotel
in Florence, who, burning a large black Spider in the flame of a candle,
and staying for some time in the same room, from the fumes arising, grew
feeble, and fell into a fainting fit, suffering all night great
palpitation at the heart, and afterward a pulse so very low as to be
scarcely felt.[1184]
Several monks, in a monastery in Florence, are said to have died from
the effects of drinking wine from a vessel in which there was afterward
found a drowned Spider.[1185]
There are two animals to which the Italians give the name Tarantula: the
one is a species of Lizard, whose bite is reputed mortal, found about
Fondi, Cajeta, and Capua; the other is a large Spider, found in the
fields in several parts of Italy, and especially at Tarentum--hence the
name. “Such as are stung by this creature (the _Aranea Tarantula_),”
says Misson, “make a thousand different gestures in a moment; for they
weep, dance, tremble, laugh, grow pale, cry, swoon away, and, after a
few days of torment, expire, if they be not assisted in time. They find
some relief by sweating and antidotes, but _music_ is the great and
specific remedy. A learned gentleman of unquestionable credit told me at
Rome, that he had been twice a witness both of the disease and of the
cure. They are both attended with circumstances that seem very strange;
but the matter of fact is well attested, and undeniable.”[1186] Such is
the story generally told, believed, and unquestioned, that has found its
way into the works of many learned travelers and naturalists, but which
is without the slightest shadow of truth.
“I think I could produce,” continues the deluded Misson, “natural and
easy reasons to explain this effect of music; but without engaging
myself in a dissertation that would carry me too far, I shall content
myself with relating some other instances of the same kind: Every one
knows the efficacy of David’s harp to restore Saul to the use of his
reason. I remember Lewis Guyon, in his Lessons, has a story of a lady of
his acquaintance, who lived one hundred and six years without ever using
any other remedy than music; for which purpose she allowed a salary to a
certain musician, whom she called her physician; and I might add that I
was particularly acquainted with a gentleman, very much subject to the
gout, who infallibly received ease, and sometimes was wholly freed from
his pains by a loud noise. He used to make all his servants come into
his chamber, and beat with all their force upon the table and floor; and
the noise they made, in conjunction with the sound of the violin, was
his sovereign remedy.”[1187]
In the Treasvrie of Avncient and Moderne Times, printed in London, the
year 1619, we find the following: “_Alexander Alexandrinus_ proceedeth
farther, affirming that he beheld one wounded by this Spider, to dance
and leape about incessantly, and the Musitians (finding themselves
wearied) gave over playing: whereupon, the poore offended dancer, hauing
vtterly lost all his forces, fell downe on the ground, as if he had bene
dead. The Musitians no sooner began to playe againe, but hee returned to
himselfe, and mounting vp vpon his feet, danced againe as lustily as
formerly hee had done, and so continued dancing still, til hee found the
harme asswaged, and himselfe entirely recovered. Heereunto he addeth,
that when it hath happened, that a man hath not beene thorowly cured by
Musique in this manner; within some short while after, hearing the sound
of Instruments, hee hath recouered footing againe, and bene enforced to
hold on dancing, and never to ceasse, till his perfect and absolute
healing, which (questionlesse) is admirable in nature.”[1188]
Robert Boyle, in his Usefulness of Natural Philosophy, among other
stories of the power of music upon those bitten by Tarantulas, mentions
the following: “_Epiphanius Ferdinandus_ himself not only tells us of a
man of 94 years of age, and weak, that he could not go, unless supported
by his staff, who did, upon the hearing of musick after he was bitten,
immediately fall a dancing and capering like a kid; and affirms that
Tarantulas themselves may be brought to leap and dance at the sound of
lutes, small drums, bagpipes, fiddles, etc.; but challenges those, that
believe them not, to come and try, promising them an occular conviction:
and adds what is very memorable and pleasant, that not only men, in whom
much may be ascribed to fancy, but other animals being bitten, may
likewise, by musick, be reduced to leap or dance: for he saith, he saw a
Wasp, which being bitten by a Tarantula, whilst a lutanist chanced to be
by; the musician, playing upon his instrument gave them the sport of
seeing both the Wasp and Spider begin to dance: Annexing, that a bitten
Cock did the like.”[1189]
In an Italian nobleman’s palace, Skippon saw a fellow who was bitten by
a Tarantula; “he danced,” says this traveler, “very antickly, with naked
swords, to a tune played on an instrument.” The Italians say that if
the Spider be immediately killed, no such effects will appear; but as
long as it lives, the person bitten is subject to these paroxysms, and
when it dies he is free. Skippon says that usually they are the poorer
sort of people who say they are bitten, and they beg money while they
are in these dancing fits.[1190]
Bell was informed at Buzabbatt (in Persia) that the celebrated Kashan
Tarantula “neither stings nor bites, but drops its venom upon the skin,
which is of such a nature that it immediately penetrates into the body,
and causes dreadful symptoms; such as giddiness of the head, a violent
pain in the stomach, and a lethargic stupefaction. The remedy is the
application of the same animal when braised to the part affected, by
which the poison is extracted. They also make the patient,” continues
this traveler, “drink abundance of sweet milk, after which he is put in
a kind of tray, suspended by ropes fixed in the four corners; it is
turned round till the ropes are twisted hard together, and, when let go
at once, the untwining causes the basket to run round with a quick
motion, which forces the patient to vomit.”[1191]
Skippon was shown by Corvino, in his Museum at Rome, “a _Tarantula
Apula_, which he kept some time alive; and the poison of it, he said,
broke two glasses.”[1192]
In the Treasvrie of Avncient and Moderne Times, it is stated of “Harts,
that when they are bitten or stung by a venomous kinde of Spiders,
called _phalanges_; they heale themselves by eating _Creuisses_, though
others do hold, that it is by an Hearb growing in the water.”[1193]
Diodorus Siculus tells as that there border upon the country of the
Acridophagi a large tract of land, rich in fair pastures, but desert and
uninhabited; not that there were never any people there, but that
formerly, when it was inhabited, an immoderate rain fell, which bred a
vast host of Spiders and Scorpions: that these implacable enemies of the
country increased so, that though at first the whole nation attempted to
destroy them (for he who was bitten or stung by them, immediately fell
dead), so that, not knowing where to remain, or how to get food, they
were forced to fly to some other place for relief.[1194] Strabo has
inserted also this miraculous story in his Geography.[1195]
Mr. Nichols mentions Spiders as having been embroidered on the white
gowns of ladies in the time of Queen Elizabeth.[1196]
Sloane tells us the housekeepers of Jamaica keep large Spiders in their
houses to kill cockroaches.[1197]
Captain Dampier, after minutely describing in his quaint way the “teeth”
of a “sort of Spider, some near as big as a Man’s Fist,” which are found
in the West Indies, says: “These Teeth we often preserve. Some wear them
in their Tobacco-pouches to pick their Pipes. Others preserve them for
tooth-pickers, especially such as are troubled with the toothache; for
by report they will expell that Pain.”[1198] These teeth, which are of a
finely polished substance, extremely hard, and of a bright shining
black, are often, in the Bermudas, for these qualities set in silver or
gold and used also for tooth-picks.[1199]
Dr. Sparrman says that Spiders form an article of the Bushman’s
dainties;[1200] and Labillardiere tells us that the inhabitants of New
Caledonia seek for and eat with avidity large quantities of a Spider
nearly an inch long (which he calls _Aranea edulis_) and which they
roast over the fire.[1201] Spiders are also eaten by the American
Indians and Australians.[1202] Molien says: “The people of Maniana,
south of Gambia and Senegal, are cannibals. They eat Spiders, Beetles,
and old men.”[1203] In Siam, also, we learn from Turpin, the egg-bags of
Spiders are considered a delicate food. The bags of certain poisonous
species which make holes in the ground in the woods are preferred.[1204]
And Peter Martyr, in his History of the West Indies, makes the following
statement: “The Chiribichenses (Caribbeans) eate Spiders, Frogges, and
whatsoever woormes, and lice also without loathing, although in other
thinges they are so queasie stomaked, that if they see anything that
doth not like them, they presently cast upp whatsoever is in their
stomacke.”[1205]
Reaumur tells us of a young lady who when she walked in her grounds
never saw a Spider that she did not take and eat upon the spot.[1206]
Another female, the celebrated Anna Maria Schurman, used to crack them
between her teeth like nuts, which she affirmed they much resembled in
taste, excusing her propensity by saying that she was born under the
sign Scorpio.[1207] “When Alexander reigned, it is reported that there
was a very beautiful strumpet in Alexandria, that fed alwayes from her
childhood on Spiders, and for that reason the king was admonished that
he should be very carefull not to embrace her, lest he should be
poysoned by venome that might evaporate from her by sweat. Albertus
Magnus also makes mention of a certain noble mayd of Collen, that was
fed with Spiders from her childhood. And we in England have a great lady
yet living, who will not leave off eating of them. And Phaerus, a
physician, did often eat them without any hurt at all.”[1208]
La Lande, the celebrated French astronomer, we are told by Disjonval,
ate as delicacies Spiders and Caterpillars. He boasted of this as a
philosophic trait of character, that he could raise himself above
dislikes and prejudices; and, to cure Madame Lepaute of a very annoying
fear of, and antipathy to Spiders, it is said he gradually habituated
her to look upon them, to touch, and finally to swallow them as readily
as he himself.[1209]
A German, immortalized by Rösel, used to eat Spiders by handfuls, and
spread them upon his bread like butter, observing that he found them
very useful, “_um sich auszulaxiren_.”[1210]
The satirist, Peter Pindar, records the same of Sir Joshua Banks:
How early Genius shows itself at times,
Thus Pope, the prince of poets, lisped in rhymes,
And our Sir Joshua Banks, most strange to utter,
To whom each cockroach-eater is a fool,
Did, when a very little boy at school,
Eat Spiders, spread upon his bread and butter.
Conradus, bishop of Constance, at the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper,
drank off a Spider that had fallen into his cup of wine, while he was
busied in the consecration of the elements; “yet did he not receive the
least hurt or damage thereby.”[1211]
We learn from Poggio, the Florentine, that Zisca, the great and
victorious reformer of Bohemia, was such an epicure, that he only asked
for, as his share of the plunder, what he was pleased to call “the
cobwebs, which hung from the roofs of the farmers’ houses.” It is said,
however, that this was but one of his witty circumlocutions to express
the hams, sausages, and pig-cheeks, for which Bohemia has always been
celebrated.[1212]
For the bite of all Spiders, according to Pliny, the best remedies are
“a cock’s brains, taken in oxycrate with a little pepper; five ants,
swallowed in drink; sheep’s dung applied in vinegar; and Spiders of any
kind, left to putrify in oil.”[1213] Another proper remedy, says this
writer, is, “to present before the eyes of a person stung another Spider
of the same description, a purpose for which they are preserved when
found dead. Their husks also,” he continues, “found in a dry state, are
beaten up and taken in drink for a similar purpose. The young of the
weasel, too, are possessed of a similar property.”[1214]
Among the remedies given by Pliny for diseases of eyes, is mentioned
“the cobweb of the common fly-Spider, that which lines its hole more
particularly. This,” he continues, “applied to the forehead across the
temples, in a compress of some kind or other, is said to be marvellously
useful for the cure of defluxions of the eyes; the web must be taken,
however, and applied by the hands of a boy who has not arrived at the
years of puberty; the boy, too, must not show himself to the patient for
three days, and during those three days neither of them must touch the
ground with his feet uncovered. The white Spider with very elongated,
thin legs, beaten up in old oil, forms an ointment which is used for the
cure of albugo. The Spider, too, whose web, of remarkable thickness, is
generally found adhering to the rafters of houses, applied in a piece of
cloth, is said to be curative of defluxions of the eyes.”[1215]
As a remedy for the ears, Pliny says: “The thick pulp of a Spider’s
body, mixed with oil of roses, is used for the ears; or else the pulp
applied by itself with saffron or in wool.”[1216]
For fractures of the cranium, Pliny says, cobwebs are applied, with oil
and vinegar; the application never coming away till a cure has been
effected. Cobwebs are good, too, he continues, for stopping the bleeding
of wounds made in shaving.[1217] They are still used for this purpose,
as also the fur from articles made of beaver.
In Ben Jonson’s Stable of News, Almanac says of old Penny boy (as a skit
upon his penuriousness), that he
Sweeps down no cobwebs here,
But sells ’em for cut fingers; and the Spiders,
As creatures rear’d of dust, and cost him nothing,
To fat old ladies’ monkies.[1218]
And Shakspeare, in his Midsummer-Night’s Dream, makes Bottom say to the
fairy Cobweb:
“I shall desire you of more acquaintance, good master Cobweb. If I
cut my finger, I shall make bold with you.”[1219]
Pills formed of Spiders’ webs are still considered an infallible cure
for the ague.[1220] Dr. Graham, in his Domestic Medicine, prescribes it
for ague and intermittent fever. And Spiders themselves, with their legs
pinched off, and then powdered with flour, so as to resemble a pill,
are also sometimes given for ague.[1221] Dr. Chapman, of Philadelphia,
states that in doses of five grains of Spiders’ web, repeated every
fourth or fifth hour, he has cured some obstinate intermittents,
suspended the paroxysms of hectic, overcome morbid vigilance from
excessive nervous mobility, and quieted irritation of the system from
various causes, and not less as connected with protracted coughs and
other chronic pectoral affections.[1222]
Mrs. Delany, in a letter dated March 1st, 1743-4, gives two infallible
recipes for ague.
1st. Pounded ginger, made into paste with brandy, spread on sheep’s
leather, and a plaister of it laid over the navel.
2d. A Spider put into a goose-quill, well sealed and secured, and hung
about the child’s neck as low as the pit of its stomach.
Upon this Lady Llanover notes: “Although the prescription of the Spider
in the quill will probably create amusement, considered as an old charm,
yet there is no doubt of the medicinal virtues of Spiders and their
webs, which have been long known to the Celtic inhabitants of Great
Britain and Ireland.”[1223]
The above mentioned Dr. Graham states that he has known of a Spider
having been sewed up in a rag and worn as a periapt round the neck to
charm away the ague.[1224]
In the Netherlands, it is thought good for an ague, to inclose a Spider
between the two halves of a nut-shell, and wear it about the neck.[1225]
“In the diary of Elias Ashmole, 11th April, 1681, is preserved the
following curious incident: ‘I took early in the morning a good dose of
elixir, and hung three Spiders about my neck, and they drove my ague
away. Deo gratias!’ Ashmole was a judicial astrologer, and the patron of
the renowned Mr. Lilly. Par nobile fratrum.”[1226]
“Among the approved Remedies of Sir Matthew Lister, I find,” says Dr.
James, “that the distilled water of black Spiders is an excellent cure
for wounds, and that this was one of the choice secrets of Sir Walter
Raleigh....
“The Spider is said to avert the paroxisms of fevers, if it be applied
to the pulse of the wrist, or the temples; but it is peculiarly
recommended against a quartan, being enclosed in the shell of a
hazlenut....
“The Spider, which some call the catcher, or wolf, being beaten into a
plaister, then sewed up in linen, and applied to the forehead and
temples, prevents the return of the tertian.... There is another kind of
Spider, which spins a white, fine, and thick web. One of this sort,
wrapped in leather, and hung about the arm, will, it is said, avert the
fit of a quartan. Boiled in oil of roses, and distilled into the ears,
it eases (says Dioscorides, ii. 68) pains in those parts....