flying creatures called bats. It is evident from Noel Paton's fairy
pictures that he has closely studied their often fantastic faces. The
writer could commend to his attention an African bat, lately figured by
his friend Mr Murray.[23] Its enormous head, or rather muzzle, compared
with its other parts, gives it an outrageously hideous look. In the late
excellent Dr Horsfield's work on the animals of Java, there are some
engravings of bats by Mr Taylor, who acquired among engravers the title
of "Bat Taylor," so wonderfully has he rendered the exquisite pileage or
fur of these creatures. It is wonderful how numerous the researches of
naturalists, such as Mr Tomes, of Welford, near Stratford, have shown
the order _Cheiroptera_ to be in genera and species. Their profiles and
full faces, even in outline, are often most bizarre and strange. Their
interfemoral membranes, we may add, are actual "unreticulated" nets,
with which they catch and detain flies as they skim through the air.
They pick these out of this bag with their mouths, and "make no bones"
of any prey, so sharp and pointed are their pretty insectivorous teeth.
Their flying membranes, stretched on the elongated finger-bones of their
fore-legs, are wonderful adaptations of Divine wisdom, a capital subject
for the natural theologian to select.
Our poet-laureate must be a close observer of natural history. In his
"In Memoriam," xciv., he distinctly alludes to some very curious West
African bats first described by the late amiable Edward T. Bennett, long
the much-valued secretary of the Zoological Society. These bats are
closely related to the fox bats, and form a genus which is named, from
their shoulder and breast appendages, _Epomophorus_:--
"Bats went round in fragrant skies,
And wheel'd or lit the filmy shapes
That haunt the dusk, with ermine capes,
And woolly breasts and beaded eyes."
The species Mr Bennett named _E. Whitei_, after the good Rev. Gilbert
White, that well-known worthy who wrote "The Natural History of
Selborne," wherein are many notices of bats.
CAPTAIN COOK'S SAILOR AND HIS DESCRIPTION OF A FOX-BAT.
It is curious, now that Australia is almost as civilised, and in parts
nearly as populous, as much of Europe, to read "Lieutenant Cook's Voyage
Round the World," in vol. iii. of Hawkesworth's quartos, detailing the
discoveries of June, July, and August 1770--that is close upon a
century ago. What progress has the world made since that period! We do
not require long periods of ages to alter, to adapt, to develop the
customs and knowledge of man. At p. 156 we get an account of a large
bat. On the 23d June 1770 Cook says:--"This day almost everybody had
seen the animal which the pigeon-shooters had brought an account of the
day before; and one of the seamen, who had been rambling in the woods,
told us, at his return, that he verily believed he had seen the devil.
We naturally inquired in what form he had appeared, and his answer was
in so singular a style that I shall set down his own words. 'He was,'
says John, 'as large as a one-gallon keg, and very like it; he had horns
and wings, yet he crept so slowly through the grass, that if I had not
been _afeared_ I might have touched him.' This formidable apparition we
afterwards discovered to have been a bat, and the bats here must be
acknowledged to have a frightful appearance, for they are nearly black,
and full as large as a partridge; they have indeed no horns, but the
fancy of a man who thought he saw the devil might easily supply that
defect."
* * * * *
Having seen some of the very curious fox-bats alive, and given some
condensed information about them in Dr Hamilton's series of volumes
called "Excelsior," the writer may extract the account, with some slight
additions, especially as the article is illustrated with a truly
admirable figure of a fox-bat, from a living specimen by Mr Wolf. In Sir
Emerson Tennent's "Sketches of the Natural History of Ceylon," p. 14, Mr
Wolf has represented a whole colony of the "flying-foxes," as they are
called.
[Illustration: Flying Fox. (Pteropus ruficollis.)]
FOX-BATS (_Pteropus_).
In this country that bat is deemed a large one whose wings, when
measured from tip to tip, exceed twelve inches, or whose body is above
that of a small mouse in bulk. In some parts of the world, however,
there are members of this well-marked family, the wings of which, when
stretched and measured from one extremity to the other, are five feet
and upwards in extent, and their bodies large in proportion. These are
the fox-bats, a pair of which were lately procured for the Zoological
Gardens. It is from one of this pair that the very characteristic figure
of Mr Wolf has been derived.[24] There is something very odd in the
appearance of such an animal, suspended as it is during the day head
downwards, in a position the very sight of which suggests to the
looker-on ideas of nightmare and apoplexy. As the head peers out from
the membrane, contracted about the body and investing it as in a bag,
and the strange creature chews a piece of apple presented by its keeper,
the least curious observer must be struck with the peculiarity of the
position, and cannot fail to admire the velvety softness and great
elasticity of the membrane which forms its wings. It must have been from
an exaggerated account of the fox-bats of the Eastern Islands that the
ancients derived their ideas of the dreaded Harpies, those fabulous
winged monsters sent out by the relentless Juno, and whose names are
synonymous with rapine and cruelty.
Some of these bats, before they were thoroughly known, frightened
British sailors not a little when they met with them. We have given an
anecdote, illustrative of this, in a preceding page.
Dr Forster, who accompanied Captain Cook on the voyage round the world
from 1772 to 1775, observed fox-bats at the Friendly Islands, where they
were seen in large groups of hundreds. Our traveller even notices that
some of them flew about the whole day, doubtless from being disturbed by
the wandering crews of the British discovery ships. He saw a Casuarina
tree of large size, the branches of which were festooned with at least
five hundred of these pendent Cheiroptera in various attitudes of ease,
according to the habits and notions of the bat tribes, who can hang
either by the hind or by the fore-feet. He noticed that they skimmed
over the water with wonderful facility, and he saw one in the act of
swimming, though he cannot say that it did so with either ease or
expertness; they are known, however, to frequent the water in order to
wash themselves from any impurities on their fur and wings, as well as
to get rid of the vermin which may be infesting them.
Captain Lort Stokes found the red-necked species to be very abundant,
during his survey of the north coast of Australia in H.M.S. _Beagle_. As
the boats were engaged in the survey, flights of these bats kept
hovering over them, uttering a disagreeable screeching noise and filling
the air with a faint mildewy odour, far from agreeable to the smell. The
sailors gave these bats the name of "monkey-birds," without being aware
that naturalists in their system consider them as following closely the
order which contains these four-handed lovers of trees. Captain Stokes
observes that the leathern wings have a singular heavy flap, and that a
flight of bats would suddenly alight on a bamboo and bend it to the
ground with their weight. Each individual struggles on alighting to
settle on the same spot, and like rooks or men in similar circumstances,
they do not succeed in fixing themselves without making a great deal of
noise. When first they clung to the bamboo, they did so by means of the
claw on the outer edge of the flying membrane, and then they gradually
settled.
Among the wild and varied scenery of those groups of islands called the
Friendly Islands, the Feejees, and the Navigators, species of fox-bat
form one of the characteristics of the place to the observant eye;
while, if the traveller should happen to be blind, their presence among
the otherwise fragrant forests would be readily perceived from the
strong odour which taints the atmosphere, and which, says the Naturalist
of the United States Exploring Expedition, "will always be remembered by
persons who have visited the regions inhabited by these animals." Mr
Titian Peale mentions that a specimen of the fox-bat was kept in
Philadelphia for several years; and like most creatures, winged as well
as wingless, was amiable to those persons who were constantly near it,
while it showed clearly and unmistakably its dislike to strangers.
On its voyage, this strange passenger was fed on boiled rice, sweetened
with sugar; while at the Museum, it was solaced and fed during its
captivity chiefly on fruit, and now and then appeared to enjoy the
picking from the bones of a boiled fowl. The fox-bat is but seldom
brought alive to this country. The late Mr Cross of the Surrey
Zoological Gardens kept one for a short time, and deemed it one of his
greatest rarities; and, till the arrival lately of the pair alluded to
at the Gardens in the Regent's Park, we have not heard of other
specimens having been exhibited in this country. They are difficult to
keep, and seem to feel very sensibly the changes of our climate, while
it is a hard thing to get for them the food on which they live when in a
state of liberty.
Mr Macgillivray discovered a new species of fox-bat on Fitzroy Island,
off the coast of Australia, when he was naturalist of H.M.S.
_Rattlesnake_.[25] He fell in with this large fruit-eating bat
(_Pteropus conspicillatus_) on the wooded slope of a hill. They were in
prodigious numbers, and presented the appearance, as they flew along in
the bright sunshine, of a large flock of rooks. As they were approached,
a strong musky odour became apparent, and a loud incessant chattering
was heard. He describes the branches of some of the trees as bending
beneath the loads of bats which clung to them. Some of these were in a
state of inactivity, sleeping or composing themselves to sleep, while
many specimens scrambled along among the boughs and took to flight on
being disturbed. He shot several specimens, three or four at a time, as
they hung in clusters. Unless they were killed outright, they continued
suspended for some time; when wounded they are difficult to handle, as
they bite severely, and at such times their cry resembles somewhat the
squalling of a child. The flesh of these bats is described to be
excellent, and no wonder, when they feed on the sweetest fruits; the
natives regard it as nutritious food, and travellers in Australia, like
the adventurous Leichhardt on his journey to Port Essington, sometimes
are furnished with a welcome meal from the fruit-eating fox-bats which
fall in their way. Even the polished French, in the Isle of Bourbon, as
they used to call the Mauritius, sometimes stewed a Pteropus, in their
_bouillon_ or broth to give it a relish.
Travellers observe that in a state of nature the fox-bats only eat the
ripest and the best fruit, and in their search for it they climb with
great facility along the under side of the branches. In Java, as Dr
Horsfield observes, these creatures, from their numbers and fruit-eating
propensities, occasion incalculable mischief, as they attack every kind
that grows there, from the cocoa-nut to the rarer and more delicate
productions, which are cultivated with care in the gardens of princes
and persons of rank. The doctor observes, that "delicate fruits, as they
approach to maturity, are ingeniously secured by means of a loose net or
basket, skilfully constructed of split bamboo. Without this precaution
little valuable fruit would escape the ravages of the kalong."
We have mentioned that the fox-bats are occasionally eaten in Australia.
Colonel Sykes alludes to the native Portuguese in Western India eating
the flesh of another species of Pteropus; and it would seem that but for
prejudice, their flesh, like that of the young of the South American
monkeys, is extremely delicate; the colonel says, writing of the
_Pteropus medius_, a species found in India, "I can personally testify
that their flesh is delicate and without disagreeable flavour."
The Javanese fox-bat occasionally affords amusement to the colonists as
well as natives, who chase it, according to Dr Horsfield, "during the
moonlight nights, which, in the latitude of Java, are uncommonly serene.
He is watched in his descent to the fruit-trees, and a discharge of
small shot readily brings him to the ground. By this means I frequently
obtained four or five individuals in the course of an hour." The natives
of New Caledonia, according to Dr Forster, use the hair of these great
bats in ropes, and in the tassels to their clubs, while they interweave
the hair among the threads of the _Cyperus squarrosus_, a grassy-looking
plant which they employ for that purpose.
William Dampier,[26] in 1687, observed the habits of a fox-bat on one of
the Philippine Islands, though he has exaggerated its size when he
judged "that the wings stretched out in length, could not be less
asunder than seven or eight foot from tip to tip." He records that "in
the evening, as soon as the sun was set, these creatures would begin to
take their flight from this island in swarms like bees, directing their
flight over to the main island. Thus we should see them rising up from
the island till night hindered our sight; and in the morning, as soon as
it was light, we should see them returning again like a cloud to the
small island till sunrising. This course they kept constantly while we
lay here, affording us every morning and evening an hour's diversion in
gazing at them and talking about them." Dr Horsfield describes the
species, which is abundant in the lower parts of Java, as having the
same habit. During the day it retreats to the branches of a tree of the
genus _Ficus_, where it passes the greater portion of the day in sleep,
"hanging motionless, ranged in succession, and often in close contact,
they have little resemblance to living beings, and by a person not
accustomed to their economy, are readily mistaken for a part of the
tree, or for a fruit of uncommon size suspended from its branches." The
doctor describes their society as being generally silent during the day,
except when a contention arises among them to get out of the influence
of the sun, when they utter a sharp piercing shriek. Their claws are so
sharp, and their attachment is consequently so strong, that they cannot
readily leave their hold without the assistance of their wings, and if
shot when in this position, they remain suspended.
DR MAYERNE AND HIS BALSAM OF BATS.
Dr Mayerne, a learned English physician, who died, aged eighty-two, in
1655, showed by his prescriptions that his enlightenment was not more
than that of the prevailing ignorance of the period. The chief
ingredient in his gout-powder was "raspings of a human skull unburied;"
"but," writes Mr Jeaffreson,[27] "his sweetest compound was his 'balsam
of bats,' strongly recommended as an unguent for hypochondriacal
persons, into which entered adders, bats, sucking whelps, earth-worms,
hogs' grease, the marrow of a stag, and the thigh-bone of an ox."
No doubt the doctor imagined that a combination of the virulence,
flightiness, swiftness, strength, and other qualities of all these
animals would in some mysterious way be communicated to his melancholy
patient; and, indeed, by acting on the imagination of such persons a
favourable direction is given to their thoughts, and in this way their
severe malady may at times have been removed.
FOOTNOTES:
[23] Illustrated Proceedings of Zoological Society.
[24] This was written some years ago; but I was glad to see when last in
the Zoological Gardens, June 1866, another live specimen of a species of
fox bat.
[25] "Narrative of the Voyage," i., p. 96 (1852).
[26] "New Voyage round the World" (1698), p. 381.
[27] "A Book about Doctors," by J. Cordy Jeaffreson, i., p. 23.
HEDGEHOG.
This well-armed genus of insect-eating quadruped has sometimes given to
describing zoologists, at least so it is said, an opportunity of paying
a sly compliment, concealing an allusion to the _touchy_ or supposed
irritable disposition of the party after whom the species has been
named. When Southey wrote the following paragraph, he happily expressed
what is too commonly the meaning and wish of critics and criticised. If
my readers look into any system of mammalia of recent date, under the
article _Erinaceus_, he will see one or more instances of concealed
allusions to touchiness of disposition in the persons of the
naturalists, _honoured_ by the seeming compliment. The hedgehog is
itself a very useful and very harmless quadruped. It is of great use in
a garden, and also in a kitchen frequented by crickets or black-beetles.
Its food is chiefly grubs, insects, worms, and such like. The creature
is easily tamed, and becomes a lovable and not a touchy pet. It is
eminently nocturnal.
SOUTHEY AND HIS CRITICS.
Robert Southey ("Common-Place Book," 4th series, p.44) writes:--
"I intend to be a hedgehog, and roll myself up in my own prickles: all I
regret is that I am not a porcupine, and endowed with the property of
shooting them to annoy the beasts who come near enough to annoy me."
MOLE.
This is perhaps the most remarkable of all our quadrupeds. Its
subterranean haunts and curious aptitudes for a life below the surface
of the ground are peculiarly worthy of study. The little hillocks it
turns up in its excavations are noticed by every one. Its pursuit of
worms and grubs, its nest, its soft plush-like fur, the pointed nose,
the strong digging fore-feet, the small all but hidden eyes, and
hundreds of other properties, render it a noticeable creature. The
following passage from Lord Macaulay's latest writings, although rather
long, may interest some in the story of this curious creature:--
THE MOLE AND KING WILLIAM.
"A fly, if it had God's message, could choke a king."[28] I never knew
till the 9th January 1862, when reading vol. v. of Macaulay's England,
that a horse, stumbling on a mole-hill, was the immediate cause of the
death of the great William III.
Lady Trevelyan, the sister of Macaulay, published vol. v. of her
brother's work, and added an account of the death of the illustrious
Dutchman, who did so much for our religious and civil liberties. The
historian was very partial to William, and the account of that monarch's
last days is Macaulay's last finished piece: it is here quoted in full
from the history:[29]--
"Meanwhile reports about the state of the king's health were constantly
becoming more and more alarming. His medical advisers, both English and
Dutch, were at the end of their resources. He had consulted by letter
all the most eminent physicians of Europe; and, as he was apprehensive
that they might return flattering answers if they knew who he was, he
had written under feigned names. To Fagon he had described himself as a
parish priest. Fagon replied, somewhat bluntly, that such symptoms could
have only one meaning, and that the only advice which he had to give to
the sick man was to prepare himself for death. Having obtained this
plain answer, William consulted Fagon again without disguise, and
obtained some prescriptions which were thought to have a little retarded
the approach of the inevitable hour. But the great king's days were
numbered. Headaches and shivering fits returned on him almost daily. He
still rode, and even hunted; but he had no longer that firm seat, or
that perfect command of the bridle, for which he had once been renowned.
Still all his care was for the future. The filial respect and tenderness
of Albemarle had been almost a necessary of life to him. But it was of
importance that Heinsius should be fully informed both as to the whole
plan of the next campaign, and as to the state of the preparations.
Albemarle was in full possession of the king's views on these subjects.
He was therefore sent to the Hague. Heinsius was at that time suffering
from indisposition, which was indeed a trifle when compared with the
maladies under which William was sinking. But in the nature of William
there was none of that selfishness which is the too common vice of
invalids. On the 20th of February he sent to Heinsius a letter, in which
he did not even allude to his own sufferings and infirmities. 'I am,'
he said, 'infinitely concerned to learn that your health is not yet
quite re-established. May God be pleased to grant you a speedy recovery.
I am unalterably your good friend, WILLIAM.' These were the last lines
of that long correspondence.
"On the 20th of February, William was ambling on a favourite horse named
Sorrel through the park of Hampton Court. He urged his horse to strike
into a gallop just at the spot where a mole had been at work. Sorrel
stumbled on the mole-hill, and went down on his knees. The king fell
off, and broke his collar-bone. The bone was set, and he returned to
Kensington in his coach. The jolting of the rough roads of that time
made it necessary to reduce the fracture again. To a young and vigorous
man such an accident would have been a trifle; but the frame of William
was not in a condition to bear even the slightest shock. He felt that
his time was short, and grieved, with a grief such as only noble spirits
feel, to think that he must leave his work but half finished. It was
possible that he might still live until one of his plans should be
carried into execution. He had long known that the relation in which
England and Scotland stood to each other was at best precarious, and
often unfriendly, and that it might be doubted whether, in an estimate
of the British power, the resources of the smaller country ought not to
be deducted from those of the larger. Recent events had proved that
without doubt the two kingdoms could not possibly continue for another
year to be on the terms on which they had been during the preceding
century, and that there must be between them either absolute union or
deadly enmity. Their enmity would bring frightful calamities, not on
themselves alone, but on all the civilised world. Their union would be
the best security for the prosperity of both, for the internal
tranquillity of the island, for the just balance of power among European
states, and for the immunities of all Protestant countries. On the 28th
of February, the Commons listened, with uncovered heads, to the last
message that bore William's sign-manual. An unhappy accident, he told
them, had forced him to make to them in writing a communication which he
would gladly have made from the throne. He had, in the first year of his
reign, expressed his desire to see a union accomplished between England
and Scotland. He was convinced that nothing could more conduce to the
safety and happiness of both. He should think it his peculiar felicity
if, before the close of his reign, some happy expedient could be devised
for making the two kingdoms one; and he, in the most earnest manner,
recommended the question to the consideration of the Houses. It was
resolved that the message should be taken into consideration on Saturday
the 7th of March.