CHAPTER X.. Gigantic Cuttle-Fishes.

GIGANTIC CUTTLE-FISHES.

The history of the ancient belief in the existence of gigantic cephalopods is somewhat obscure. All that we know of it is from passages in the works of a few old Greek and Latin authors, and a series of Scandinavian traditions. I have already referred to the “monstrous polypus” mentioned by Pliny, which, at Carteia, in Grenada, used to come out of the sea at night, and carry off salted tunnies from the curing depôts on the shore, and also to the incident recorded by Ælian, who describes his monster as crushing up the barrels of salt-fish in its arms, to get at the contents. In the legends of northern nations stories of the existence of a marine animal of such enormous size that it more resembled an island than an organised being frequently found a place; and though the descriptions given of it were wild and extravagant, it is not difficult to recognise in the ill-drawn and distorted portrait the attempted likeness of one of the cephalopoda. Olaus Magnus relates many wondrous narratives of sea-monsters,—tales which had gathered and accumulated marvels as they were passed on from generation to generation in oral history, and which he took care to bequeath to his successors undeprived of any of their fascination.

Eric Pontoppidan, the younger, Bishop of Bergen, is generally, but unjustly, regarded as the inventor of the fabulous Kraken, and is constantly misquoted by authors who have never read his work, and who, one after another, have copied from their predecessors erroneous statements concerning him. More than half a century before him Christian Francis Paullinus, a physician and naturalist of Eisenach, who evinced in his writings an admiration of the marvellous rather than of the useful, had described as resembling Gesner’s “Heracleoticon,” a monstrous animal which occasionally rose from the sea on the coasts of Lapland and Finmark, and which was of such enormous dimensions that a regiment of soldiers could conveniently manœuvre on its back. Pontoppidan was not a fabricator of falsehoods; but, in collecting evidence relating to the “great beasts” living in “the great and wide sea,” was influenced, as he tells us, by “a desire to extend the popular knowledge of the glorious works of a beneficent Creator.” His fault, or mistake, was that he gave too much credence to old narratives and traditions of floating islands and sea-monsters, and to the superstitious beliefs and exaggerated statements of ignorant fishermen. If those who abuse him had lived in his day they would probably have done the same. The tone of his concluding remarks is not that of an intentional deceiver and knave. He says he “believes the accounts given to be true and well attested,” and that he “leaves it to future writers to complete what he has imperfectly sketched out, by further experience, which is always the best instructor.” No wonder, therefore, that his evident sincerity and the respectability of episcopal advocacy obtained belief for the fable of the Kraken.

The Norwegian bishop was a conscientious, if over-credulous man: but the same cannot be said of Denys de Montfort, who, half a century later not only professed to believe in the existence of the Kraken, but also of another gigantic animal distinct from it; a “colossal poulpe,” or octopus, compared with which Pliny’s was a mere pigmy. In a drawing fitter to decorate the outside of a showman’s caravan at a fair than seriously to illustrate a work on natural history, he depicted this tremendous cuttle-fish as throwing its arms over a three-masted vessel, snapping off its masts, tearing down the yards, and on the point of dragging it to the bottom, if the crew had not succeeded in cutting off its immense limbs with cutlasses and hatchets. De Montfort had good opportunities of obtaining information, for he was at one time an assistant in the geological department of the Museum of Natural History in Paris; and wrote a work on conchology, besides that already referred to. But it appears to have been his deliberate purpose to cajole the public; for it is reported that he exclaimed to M. Defrance: “If my entangled ship is accepted, I will make my ‘colossal poulpe’ overthrow a whole fleet.” Accordingly we find him gravely declaring that one of the great victories of the British navy was converted into a disaster by the monsters which are the subject of his history. He boldly asserted that the six men-of-war captured from the French by Admiral Rodney in the West Indies on the 12th of April 1782, together with four British ships detached from his fleet to convoy the prizes, were all suddenly engulphed in the waves on the night of the battle under such circumstances as showed that the catastrophe was caused by colossal cuttle-fishes, and not by a gale or any ordinary casualty.

Unfortunately for De Montfort the inexorable logic of facts not only annihilates his startling theory, but demonstrates the reckless falsity of his plausible statements. The captured vessels did not sink on the night of the action, but were all sent to Jamaica to refit, and arrived there safely. Five months afterwards, however, a convoy of nine line-of-battle-ships (amongst which were Rodney’s prizes), one frigate, and about a hundred merchantmen, were dispersed, whilst on their voyage to England, by a violent storm, during which some them unfortunately foundered. The various accidents which preceded the loss of these vessels was related in evidence to the Admiralty by the survivors, and official documents prove that De Montfort’s fleet-destroying poulpe was unequivocally a “devil-fish of fiction,” and that the “devil-fish of fact” had no part in the disaster he ascribes to it.

I have been told, but cannot vouch for the truth of the report, that De Montfort’s propensity to write that which was not true, culminated in his committing forgery, and that he died in the galleys. But he records a statement of Captain Jean Magnus Dens, said to have been a respectable and veracious man, who, after having made several voyages to China as master of a trader, retired from a seafaring life and lived at Dunkirk. He told De Montfort that in one of his voyages, whilst crossing from St. Helena to Cape Negro, he was becalmed, and took advantage of the enforced idleness of the crew to have the vessel scraped and painted. Whilst three of his men were standing on planks slung over the side, an enormous cuttle-fish rose from the water, and threw one of its arms around two of the sailors, whom it tore away, with the scaffolding on which they stood. With another arm it seized the third man, who held on tightly to the rigging, and screamed for help. His shipmates ran to his assistance, and succeeded in rescuing him by cutting away the creature’s arm with axes and knives, but he died delirious on the following night. The captain tried to save the other two sailors by killing the animal, and drove several harpoons into it; but they broke away, and the men were carried down by the monster. The arm cut off was said to have been 25 feet long, and as thick as the mizenyard, and to have had on it suckers as big as saucepan-lids. I believe the old sea-captain’s narrative of the incident to be true: the dimensions given by De Montfort are an embellishment of his own.

It is remarkable that there exists in the East a strong belief in the power of these animals to sink a ship and devour her crew. I have been told by a friend that he saw in a shop in China a picture of a cuttle-fish embracing a junk, apparently of about 300 tons burthen, and helping itself to the sailors, as one picks gooseberries off a bush. Mr. Laurence Oliphant, in his “China and Japan,” describes a Japanese show, which consisted of “a series of groups of figures carved in wood, the size of life, and as cleverly coloured as Madame Tussaud’s wax-works. One of these was a group of women bathing in the sea. One of them had been caught in the folds of a cuttle-fish; the others, in alarm, were escaping, leaving their companion to her fate. The cuttle-fish was represented on a huge scale, its eyes, eyelids, and mouth being made to move simultaneously by a man inside the head.”

The old stories of colossal cuttle-fishes, though gross exaggerations, are “founded on facts.” They are based on the rare occurrence of specimens, smaller certainly, but still enormous, of some known species. The means of observation on the duration of growth and life in the cephalopods have been, of course, difficult to obtain; but, from watching the rate of increase of size in young specimens, De Ferussac, D’Orbigny, and other naturalists have arrived at the conclusion that they sometimes live for many years, and continue to grow till the end of their lives. That some of them, therefore, should attain to a considerable magnitude is hardly surprising.

Passing over the earlier records of the appearance of cuttle-fishes of unusual size, and the current as well as traditional belief in their existence by the inhabitants of many countries, let us take the testimony of travellers and naturalists, who have a right to be regarded as competent observers.

Peron, the well-known French zoologist, mentions having seen at sea, in 1801, not far from Van Diemen’s Land, at a very little distance from his ship, “Le Géographe,” a sepia (calamary?) of the size of a barrel, rolling with noise on the waves; its arms, between 6 and 7 feet long, and 6 or 7 inches in diameter at the base, extended on the surface, and writhing about like great snakes.

Quoy and Gaimard report that in the Atlantic Ocean, near the equator, they found the remains of an enormous calamary, half-eaten by the sharks and birds, which could not have weighed less, when entire, than 200lbs.

Captain Sander Rang records having fallen in with, in mid-ocean, a species distinct from the others, of a dark red colour, having short arms, and a body the size of a hogshead.

Molina, in his “Natural History of Chili,” describes, amongst other species of cuttle-fishes, one, which he calls Sepia tunicata, and of which he says some specimens, armed with hooks in their suckers, weighed 150lbs.

Although, in the face of recent discoveries, it is now comparatively unimportant, I may here mention that Schneider, a most able and scrupulously careful naturalist, finding that, in many instances, Molina was utterly unworthy of confidence, plainly declared that it was necessary to search in the works of others for description of the species of which he wrote, and expressed doubts of the correctness of his assertions concerning the hook-furnished cuttle-fish on the coast of Chili. He could not discover the source whence Molina had derived his information on this subject, but M. de Ferussac found that he had taken it from a translation of the narrative of Captain Cook’s first voyage, and had dishonestly transferred to Chili a specimen (to which I shall presently refer), described by Sir Joseph Banks as captured in the South Seas, and which is now in the museum of the Royal College of Surgeons. De Montfort quoted Molina, and, with his usual love of exaggeration, greatly embellished his description. Shaw reproduced De Montfort’s figure, and Leach and Lesueur accepted Molina’s statements.

In a manuscript by Paulsen, referred to by Professor Steenstrup, of Copenhagen, is a description of a large calamary cast ashore on the Danish coast, which the latter named Architeuthis monachus. Its body measured 21 feet, and its tentacles 18 feet, making a total of 39 feet.

In 1854 another was stranded at the Skag in Jutland, which Professor Steenstrup believed to belong to the same genus as the preceding, but to be of a different species, and called it Architeuthis dux. The body was cut in pieces by the fishermen, and furnished many wheelbarrow-loads. Mr. Gwyn Jeffreys says Dr. Mörch informed him that the beak of this animal was nine inches long. He adds that another huge cephalopod was stranded in 1860 or 1861, between Hillswick and Scalloway, on the west of Shetland. From a communication received by Professor Allman, it appears that its tentacles were 16 feet long, the pedal arms about half that length, and the mantle-sac 7 feet. The largest suckers examined by Professor Allman were three-quarters of an inch in diameter.

We have also the statement of the officers and crew of the French despatch steamer, “Alecton,” commanded by Lieutenant Bouyer, describing their having met with a great calamary on the 30th of November, 1861, between Madeira and Teneriffe. They say that the body of the creature, which, like Rang’s specimen, was of a deep red colour, measured 16 feet to 18 feet in length, without reckoning that of the formidable arms. The harpoons thrust into it drew out of its soft flesh; so they slipped a rope with a running knot over it, which held at the juncture of the fins; but when they attempted to haul it on board, the enormous weight caused the rope to cut through the flesh, and all but the hinder part of the body fell back into the sea and disappeared. M. Berthelot, the French Consul at Teneriffe, saw the fins and posterior portion of the animal on board the “Alecton” two days afterwards, and sent a report of the occurrence to the Paris Academy of Sciences.

These are statements made by men who, by their intelligence, character, and position, are entitled to respect and credence, and whose evidence would be accepted without question or hesitation in any court of law. There is, moreover, a remarkable coincidence of particulars in their several accounts, which gives great importance to their combined testimony. The public, after being deceived by Pliny with his rapacious colossal polypus, and by Olaus Magnus, Pontoppidan and De Montfort with their fabulous or grossly exaggerated “Kraken,” leaped hastily across the path of truth from easy gullibility on the one hand to unreasoning incredulity on the other. “In medio tutissimus ibis” is a rule which may be safely applied to this case, as to many others. The accumulated weight of such aggregate testimony as had been adduced should, even if unsupported by confirmatory facts, have been sufficient to convince any thoughtful inquirer of the existence of very large cephalopods, individuals of which have occasionally been seen, and correctly described by some trustworthy observers, although absurdly exaggerated and misrepresented by others.

But fortunately, we are not left dependent on documentary evidence alone, nor with the option of accepting or rejecting, as caprice or prejudice may prompt us, the narratives of those who have told us they have seen what we have not. Cuttle-fishes of extraordinary size are preserved in several European museums. In the collection of the Faculty of Sciences at Montpellier is one six feet long, taken by fishermen at Cette, which Professor Steenstrup has identified as Ommastrephes pteropus. One of the same species, which was formerly in the possession of M. Eschricht, who received it from Marseilles, may be seen in the museum at Copenhagen. The body of another, analogous to these, is exhibited in the museum of Trieste. It was taken on the coast of Dalmatia. At the meeting of the British Association at Plymouth in 1841, Colonel Smith exhibited drawings of the beak and other parts of a very large calamary preserved at Haarlem; and M. P. Harting, in 1860, described in the Memoirs of the Royal Scientific Academy of Amsterdam portions of two extant in other collections in Holland, one of which he believes to be Steenstrup’s Architeuthis dux, a species which he regards as identical with Ommastrephes todarus of D’Orbigny. Dr. J. E. Gray scientifically described, many years ago, in his “Spicilegia Zoologica,” a specimen of Sepioteuthis major from the Cape of Good Hope, the body of which measured 27 inches, the head 6 inches, and the fins and body 7 inches each in breadth, and mentions one seen by Mrs. Graham, which had arms 28 feet long.

In the Museum of the Royal College of Surgeons are portions of an Onychoteuthis or Enoploteuthis (a squid, the suckers of which are furnished with prehensile hooks), found floating by Drs. Banks and Solander between Cape Horn and the Polynesian Islands, and described as having been 6 feet in length, including the tentacular arms. The lower portion of the body, with the fins attached, in a dried and shrunken condition, is 18 inches long; the beak, 3½ inches. A part of one of its arms, with the hooked suckers, is also to be seen, which, however, being only the tip of one, gives no clue to its entire length.

Still there remained a residuum of doubt in the minds of naturalists and the public concerning the existence of gigantic cuttle-fishes until, towards the close of the year 1873, two specimens were encountered on the coast of Newfoundland, and a portion of one and the whole of the other were brought ashore and preserved for examination by competent zoologists.

The circumstances under which the first was seen, as sensationally described by the Rev. M. Harvey, Presbyterian minister of St. John’s, Newfoundland, in a letter to Principal Dawson, of McGill College, were, briefly and soberly, as follows:—Two fishermen were out in a small punt on the 26th of October, 1873, near the eastern end of Belle Isle, Conception Bay, about nine miles from St. John’s. Observing some object floating on the water at a short distance they rowed towards it, supposing it to be the débris of a wreck. On reaching it one of the men struck it with his “gaff” when immediately it showed signs of life, and shot out its two tentacular arms, as if to seize its antagonists. One of the men severed both arms with an axe as they lay on the gunwale of the boat, whereupon the animal moved off, and ejected a quantity of inky fluid which darkened the surrounding water for a considerable distance.

The men went home and magnified their adventure. They “estimated” the body to have been 60 feet in length and 10 feet across the tail fin; and declared that when the “fish” attacked them “it reared a parrot-like beak which was as big as a six-gallon keg.”

All this Mr. Harvey appears to have been willing to believe, and relates without the expression of a doubt. Fortunately, he was able to obtain from the fishermen a portion of one of the tentacular arms which they had chopped off with the axe, and it is now in the St. John’s Museum. By careful calculation of its girth, the breadth and circumference of the expanded sucker-bearing portion at its extremity, and the diameter of the suckers, Professor Verrill, of Yale College, has computed its dimensions as follows:—Length of body 10 feet; diameter of body 2 feet 5 inches. Long tentacular arms 32 feet; head 2 feet—total length about 44 feet. The upper mandible of the beak, instead of being “as large as a six-gallon keg” would be about 3 inches long, and the lower mandible 1½ inch long. From the size of the large suckers relatively to those of another specimen to be presently described, he regards it as probable that this individual was a female.

In November, 1874,—about three weeks after the occurrence in Conception Bay—a calamary somewhat smaller than the preceding, but of the same species, also came into Mr. Harvey’s possession. Three fishermen, when hauling their herring-net in Logie bay, about three miles from St. John’s, found the huge animal entangled in its folds. With great difficulty they succeeded in despatching it and bringing it ashore, being compelled to cut off its head before they could get it into their boat.

The body of this specimen was over 7 feet long; the caudal fin 22 inches broad; the two long tentacular arms 24 feet in length; the eight shorter arms each 6 feet long, the largest of the latter being 10 inches in circumference at the base; total length of this calamary 32 feet. Professor Verrill considers that this and the Conception Bay squid are both referable to one species—Steenstrup’s Architeuthis dux.

Excellent woodcuts from photographs of these two specimens were given in the “Field” of January 31st, 1874, and December 13th, 1873, respectively.

In the “American Journal of Science and Arts,” of March, 1875, Professor Verrill gives particulars of several other examples of great calamaries, varying in total length from 30 feet to 52 feet, which have been taken in the neighbourhood of Newfoundland since the year 1870.

The following account of the still more recent capture of a large squid off the west coast of Ireland was given in the “Zoologist” of June, 1875, by Sergeant Thomas O’Connor, of the Royal Irish Constabulary:—

“On the 26th of April, 1875, a very large calamary was met with on the north-west of Boffin Island, Connemara. The crew of a ‘curragh’ (a boat made like the ‘coracle,’ with wooden ribs covered with tarred canvas) observed to seaward a large floating mass, surrounded by gulls. They pulled out to it, believing it to be wreck, but to their astonishment found it was an enormous cuttle-fish, lying perfectly still, as if basking on the surface of the water. Paddling up with caution they lopped off one of its arms. The animal immediately set out to sea, rushing through the water at a tremendous pace. The men gave chase, and, after a hard pull in their frail canvas craft, came up with it, five miles out in the open Atlantic, and severed another of its arms and the head. These portions are now in the Dublin Museum. The shorter arms measure each 8 feet in length, and 15 inches round the base: the tentacular arms are said to have been 30 feet long. The body sank.”

Finally, there is in the basement chambers of the British Museum (irreverently called the “spirit vaults and bottle department,” because fish, mollusca, &c., in spirits are there deposited) a tall glass jar, in which is preserved a single arm of a huge cephalopod, which, by the kindness and courtesy of the officers of the department, I was permitted to examine and measure when I first described it, in May, 1873. It is 9 feet long, and 10 inches in circumference at the base, tapering gradually to a fine point. It has about 300 suckers, pedunculated, or set on tubular footstalks, placed alternately in two rows, and having serrated, horny rings, but no hooks; the diameter of the largest of these rings is half an inch; the smallest is not larger than a pin’s head. This is one of the eight shorter, or pedal, and not one of the long, or tentacular, arms of the calamary to which it belonged. Judging from the proportions of known examples, I estimate the length of the tentacles at 36 feet, and that of the body at from 11 to 12 feet: total length 48 feet. The beak would probably have been about 5 inches long from hinge socket to point. No history relating to it has been preserved; but Dr. Gray told me that he believed it came from the east coast of South America.

Here, then, in our midst, and to be seen by all who wish to inspect it, is, and has long been, a limb of a once-living cephalopod capable of upsetting a boat, or of hauling a man out of her, or of clutching one engaged in scraping a ship’s side, and dragging him under water, as described by the old master-mariner, Magnus Dens; possessing, also, a beak powerful enough to tear him in pieces, and crush some of his smaller bones. I confess that until I saw and measured this enormous limb, I doubted the accuracy of some early observations which this specimen alone would suffice to prove worthy of confidence. The existence of gigantic cephalopods is no longer an open question. I, now, more than ever, appreciate the value of the adage:

“TRUTH IS STRANGER THAN FICTION.”

THE END.

BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO., PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.

FOOTNOTES:

An interesting proof that the ancient Egyptians were also acquainted with other cephalopods has been communicated to me by Mr. Eugenius Birch, the architect of the Brighton Aquarium. Whilst on a journey to Nubia, up the Nile, in January, 1875, he visited the temple of Bayr-el-Bahree, Thebes (date, 1700 B.C.), the entrance to which had been deeply buried beneath the light, wind-drifted sand accumulated during many centuries. By order of the Khedive access was recently obtained to its interior by the excavation and removal of this deep deposit; and amongst the hieroglyphics on the walls were found, between the zig-zag horizontal lines which represent water, figures of various fishes so accurately portrayed as to be easily identified. With them was the outline of a squid 14 inches long. As this temple is 500 miles from the delta of the Nile it is remarkable that nearly all the fishes there represented are of marine species.

See page 49.

From the Greek words cephale, the head; and poda, feet.

From octo, eight; and pous (poda), feet.

See an interesting article on the fossil and recent cephalopoda, by Henry Woodward, F.R.S., in the Student, Nos. xix. and xxii.

In the Appendix to Sir Edward Belcher’s “Voyage of the Samarang,” Mr. Arthur Adams, the Assistant Surgeon attached to the Expedition, gives some valuable information concerning the Argonaut, numerous specimens of which he had opportunities of capturing in the South Atlantic, and observing. He says:—“There is not the slightest vestige of any muscular attachment. This remarkable cephalopod carries about her eggs in a light calcareous nest, which she firmly retains possession of by means of the broad, expanded, delicate membranes of the posterior pair of tentacles. When disturbed or captured, however, she loosens her hold, and, leaving her cradle to its fate, swims away independent of her shell.” He adds that “having once left her shell she has not the ability, nor, perhaps, the sagacity, to re-enter her nest and resume the guardianship of her eggs.” From observations of the breeding habits of other octopods I doubt this.

Charlesworth’s Magazine of Natural History, Sept. 1837; p. 393.

See page 27.

H. Woodward; op. cit.

“The dear devoured one,” as a local journal called it, was at once immersed in methylated spirits. The dog-fish was stuffed. Both are still preserved at the Aquarium.

The story of apprentices stipulating with their masters that they should not be required to eat salmon on more than a specified number of days in a week—a familiar illustration of satiety producing not only indifference but disgust—is probably, like many other illustrations, over-drawn, and not wholly correct in its representation. For if, as has been suggested, the salmon the youths objected to were often kelts, salted or fresh, their protest is hardly to be wondered at. No trace of such a stipulation has, however, been found in any old indentures.

See page 44.

“Naturalis Historiæ,” lib. ix., cap. 29.

Voyage of the Beagle; p. 8.

“Travels in Lycia.”

A few days after the publication in Land and Water of my account of this occurrence, the following lines appeared in Fun. They were written by its editor, poor dear Tom Hood, who loved all animals—birds, beasts, and fishes—and delighted in conversing with me about those under my care:—

THE STRAYING ’TOPUS.

A LEGEND OF THE BRIGHTON AQUARIUM.

Have you heard of the Octopus— ’Topus of the feelers eight— How he left his tank o’po’pus Lump-fish to disintegrate?

To the lump-fish tank, as sprightly As the Brighton coach, he’d ride; For two passengers he nightly Found convenient room inside.

On his feelers, long and curly, Homeward then he gently strode; And you’d have to get up early To perceive him on the road.

But it happened Mr. Lawler, Whom the lump-fish ought to thank, Caught this very early caller, “Dropt-in” on his neighbours’ tank!

For some weeks the world lump-fishious Very strangely vanished had;— So the visit was suspicious, And appearances were bad!

Well for him, this brigand larky Was not brought before J. P. (Neither clergy, nor squire-archy) But to Mr. Henry Lee.

Said he, “Punish on suspicion, Is a thing I never will— Catch him in the same position; Then I’ll send him to the mill!”

Treadmill is a wear-and-tear case, And Octopus would, you see, Do four men upon a staircase— Law, how tired the beast would be.

Professor Steenstrup says that almost every octopus he has examined has had one or two arms reproduced, and that he has seen females in which all the eight arms had been lost, but were more or less restored; also a male in which the same was the case on seven of the arms,—the hectocotylized limb alone being uninjured. He adds that whilst the Octopoda possess the power of reproducing with great facility and rapidity their arms which are exposed to so many enemies, the Decapoda—(the Sepiidæ and Squids)—appear to be incapable of thus repairing and replacing accidental injuries.—[See the translation of his paper by Mr. W. S. Dallas, in the “Ann. and Mag. of Nat. Histy.” of August, 1857; No. 116, 2nd series; p. 107.]

Several specimens of the hectocotylus in this condition may be seen in the Museum of Natural History, Paris.

Mr. Gwyn Jeffreys says:—“The derivation of the word ‘cuttle’ is given in the ‘Imperial Dictionary’ as from the Saxon verb ‘cudele;’ in Welsh, ‘cuziaw;’ and in the Armorican, ‘cuttaff,’ or ‘cuddyo,’ all signifying the sense of withdrawing or hiding; hence our pet word ‘cuddle.’”

See page 94.

See page 93.

De quibusdam animalibus marinis. 1761.

The following interesting information, which appeared in the Standard of December 25th, 1874, is derived from a Report on the Tunisian Fisheries by Mr. W. Kirby Green, H.B.M. Consul at Tunis, published in May, 1872.

“During Advent and Lent, the octopus is largely consumed by the Orthodox Greek Catholics, amongst whom the use of meat and fish is prohibited in those seasons of abstinence. This strange diet is chiefly obtained from Tunis, and in the Levant and Greek markets its trade name is “octopodia” or “polpi.” The villages in the neighbourhood of Karkenah are the chief localities where this species of cephalopoda are obtained, and the produce of this fishery, in a year of abundance, yields about 2,500 cwt. of polypi; in an average year, about 1,800 cwt.; in a year of scarcity, 1,050 cwt. In a good season the whole of the Island of Karkenah supplies about 3,000 cwt.; and the Jerbah waters a third of this quantity. On the shores from the village of Luesa to that of Chneies, in the Gulph of Khabs, the natives collect from four to five cwt. of octopods a day during the season; but this supply generally serves for the consumption of the Regency. The remaining coast and islands may be calculated to furnish a minimum of 650 cwt. to 700 cwt. of dried fish.

The octopods prefer the rocky shallows, and are found in those waters, coming from the open sea, in the months of January, February, and March; but a considerable number remain permanently near the shore. It has been observed that when their fry are numerous from the months of June to August, the fishery of the coming season is sure to be abundant, whilst the reverse is the case if they appear in numbers in November and December. On the arrival of the octopods in the shallows they keep in masses or shoals, but speedily separate in search of shelter among the rocks near the beach, covered by only one or two feet of water, and in stony localities prepared for them by the fishermen, in order to facilitate the depositing of their spawn.

In deep water they are taken by means of earthen jars strung together and lowered to the bottom of the sea, where they are allowed to remain for a certain number of hours, and into which the fish introduce themselves. Frequently from eight to ten octopods are taken from every jar at each visit of the fishermen. In less deep water earthenware drain pipes are placed side by side for distances frequently exceeding half a mile in length, and in these also the octopods enter, and are subsequently captured. As they are attracted by all white, smooth, and bright substances, the natives deck places in the creek, and hollows of the rocks with white stones and shells, over which the polypi spread themselves, and so are caught from four up to eight at a time. But the most successful manner of securing these fish is pursued by the inhabitants of Karkenah, who form long lanes and labyrinths in the shallows by planting the butt ends of palm branches at short distances from each other, and these constructions extend over spaces of two or more miles. On the ebb of the tides which in the Little Syrtis is considerable (ten feet), thus differing from the rest of the Mediterranean, the octopods are found in the pools inside the inclosures, and are easily collected by the fishermen, who string them in bunches, called “risma,” and from eight to ten of these, each containing 50 fish, are secured daily through the season by every boat’s crew of four men. The produce of this fishery could apparently be considerably augmented by the increased construction of palm butt labyrinths, which appear to have a peculiar attraction for the polypi, but it is doubtful whether the demand for octopods is capable of further development, for the consumption of this product is restricted to the countries where the rigours of the fast of the Orthodox Greek Church are still observed.

The Tunisian Government claims a third of all the polypi fished upon its coast. The native fishermen, in general, sell their octopods to the merchants in anticipation, the latter making them pecuniary advances, four or five months before the season, at a stipulated price for the fish, which is seldom, however, below 20s. the cwt. Should the fishermen fail to supply the quantity contracted for, the merchant is entitled to demand that they should procure for him the requisite weight of fish elsewhere; but this power is rarely enforced, a new agreement being more frequently entered into for the coming season, on proportionately favourable terms for the purchaser. Another practice is also followed for the purchase of octopods. The merchant makes an advance to the fishermen a month before the season, and receives back the value of his money at the first public sale, at the current price, with an addition in his favour of 5 per cent. on the amount disbursed.

The octopus has hitherto been prepared for exportation by simply salting and drying, but it is now preserved either in oil or brine, after subjecting it to a preliminary scouring and boiling process.

The price for octopods varies considerably, according to the size, supply, and demand; but at Sfax a pair of fresh fish may cost, as circumstances rule, from 6d. to 1s. 3d. However, the preparatory maceration, by beating on a stone slab or rock, required before drying, entails a small additional expense, and brings the extremes of low and high prices to 25s. or 50s. per cwt. To the cost price must be added an export duty of 5s. 1d., and the purchaser ought to be careful to receive his merchandise from the seller during dry weather, as a damp day will add from 4 to 5 per cent. to the weight of every cwt.

Malta receives the largest part of the Tunisian octopods, but they are only sent to that island for ultimate transmission to Greece and other parts of the Levant. Portugal is one of the few countries that competes with Tunis in supplying the Greek markets with polypi. In Greece, the octopods are either sold after being pickled, at from £12 16s. to £15 9s. the cantar of 176lb., or in their original dried state at from £12 to £14, but it must be understood that these prices are subject to considerable fluctuations arising from the favourable or unfavourable state of the season’s fishery.

Travels in Lycia; by Lieut. (now Admiral) A. B. Spratt, R.N., F.G.S., and Professor Edward Forbes, F.R.S.

The special correspondent at Gibraltar of the Daily Telegraph (Mr. George Augustus Sala) wrote as follows on this subject:—For the information of Mr. Henry Lee, I may observe that nothing whatever is known at Gib. about the terrible octopus who is said to have sucked the boatswain of a man-of-war into the lowermost depths of Davy Jones’s locker; but there are legends commonly recited in the smoking-room of the King’s Arms as to an octopus that held on to a sharp rock with one set of suckers, and capsized a felucca from Algeciras with the other. The Spaniards eat this horrible creature very willingly. When they catch him, they first pound him violently between two stones, as some cooks are in the habit of thwacking beefsteaks of which the tenderness is doubtful, and then they hang him up in the sun until his abominable body and limbs are dried. Ultimately they fry him in oil, and declare that he is very nice. I have an idea that I must have eaten fried octopus for supper at Bobadilla, and that it was the delicacy which gave me such a thorough disgust of the place. The octopus, nevertheless, under the name of pulpo, is popular enough throughout Southern Spain, and is equally common, and equally devoured, on the coast of Algeria and Morocco.—Daily Telegraph, March 15, 1875.

A gentleman engaged in the cod-fishery, and residing at Fogo, Newfoundland, has told me that he was startled one evening by an unusual sound at the back of his house, which is at the head of the harbour, and the next morning found three barrels of squids dead on the shore. The same gentleman received information, on the 29th of June, 1873, of a gigantic squid having been picked up in Trinity Bay, and seen by Mr. Haddon, school inspector. It measured sixteen feet in length. The squid used so abundantly as bait in the Newfoundland cod-fishery is Ommastrephes sagittatus.

In Jonathan Couch’s manuscript diary, which I have had the gratification of perusing, the following entry appears, dated 1819:—“John Hotton (a fisherman of Polperro), informs me that some time since he was at sea for the purpose of catching cuttles, when the night was so dark, that, though cuttles were in plenty and followed the bait to the surface, he could not see to hook them. He then desired his son to take a lanthorn, and hold it close to the water so that he might see; when, to his surprise, a great many cuttles gathered round the light, and without bait or hook he caught eighteen by hooking them with the rod (gaff). Since then he has more than once put the same plan in practice with success.”

“Intellectual Observer,” vol. ii., p. 164.

One of the recipes for “areca-nut tooth-powder” is:—“Ground areca-nuts, three parts; cuttle-bone, one part; flavour with cloves or cassia.”

“Naturalis Historiæ,” lib. ix., cap. 30. A.D. 77.

Lib. iii., cap. 6. De anim. A.D. 220 to 250.

“Historia de gentibus Septentrionalibus.” A.D. 1555. Olaus Magnus, archdeacon, is frequently mistaken for Johan Magnus, Archbishop of Upsala.

“Natural History of Norway,” cap. 8. A.D. 1754.

Born 1643; died 1712.

“Histoire Naturelle générale et particulière des Mollusques,” vol. ii., p. 256.

“Conchyliologie Systématique.”

“Hist. Nat. des Moll.,” vol. ii., pp. 358 to 368.

De Montfort endeavoured to support his statements by so many inaccurate details, which by a considerable number of uneducated persons of his own nation were accepted as true, that I think some particulars of the events above referred to may be interesting. My information is obtained from Rodney’s despatches, and paragraphs of contemporary naval news published in the “Gentleman’s Magazine” of 1782 and 1783; from the “Annual Register” of 1783; and from Capt. J. N. Inglefield’s own account of the loss of his ship the “Centaur,” in a rare pamphlet of thirty-nine pages, “published by authority,” and dated “Fayall, October 13th, 1782.”

In Sir G. B. Rodney’s action with the French fleet under the Count de Grasse, off St. Domingo, on the 12th of April, 1782, the manœuvre of breaking the enemy’s line, and separating some of his ships from the remainder, was for the first time successfully put in practice. The following captures were made by the British, viz.:—The admiral’s ship, “Ville de Paris,” 104, which was a splendid present from the City of Paris to Louis XV.; the “Glorieux,” 74; “Cæsar,” 74; “Hector,” 64; “Caton,” 64; “Jason,” 64; “Aimable,” 32; and “Ceres,” 18; besides one ship of 74 guns, sunk during the engagement. The “Cæsar,” one of the best ships in the French fleet, took fire on the night of the action, and, before the prisoners could be removed from her, blew up. By this accident a lieutenant, the boatswain, and fifty Englishmen belonging to the “Centaur,” together with about four hundred Frenchmen, perished. The remainder of the prizes were sent into Port Royal, Jamaica, to repair damages, and on the 5th of May, 1782, Rodney wrote to the Admiralty announcing their safe arrival in that harbour.

On the 26th of July following, a fleet and convoy, amongst which were these ships, left Port Royal for England, under the command of Admiral Graves in the “Ramilies.” They encountered several very heavy gales of wind, and on the 16th of September, in lat. 42° 15’, long. 48° 55’, a storm set in which lasted several days. About three A.M. on the 17th, the wind, which had been blowing from S.E., suddenly shifted, and a brief lull was succeeded by a most violent squall, with furious rain from N.N.W., which is described as “exceeding in degree everything of the kind that the oldest seaman in the fleet had ever seen, or had any conception of.” The “Ramilies” went to the bottom soon after four P.M. on the 21st. Most of her crew were saved. The “Centaur” foundered on the night of the 23rd, in lat. 48° 32’, long. 43° 20’. Her captain, Inglefield, and eleven of her people, in the pinnace, left her in a sinking state about five o’clock on that evening, and after suffering severely for sixteen days, in the course of which one man, Thomas Matthews, quartermaster, died from cold and exposure, they landed at Fayall in an exhausted condition, having made a voyage of more than 750 miles in a open boat. The “Glorieux” and the “Ville de Paris” also sank during the gale, and only one man of the crew of the latter vessel was saved, having been picked up on some floating wreck. His name was John Wilson, and he gave evidence at Portsmouth concerning the disaster on the 22nd of March, 1783. The “Caton,” “Canada,” “Ardent,” and “Jason” escaped with loss of spars and other damage. The “Hector” was attacked by two French frigates, left by them in a crippled condition, and sank—many of the crew being saved by the “Hawkesnow,” letter of marque. These are well-attested facts. De Montfort’s fabulous statement was, that on the night following the battle, the “Ville de Paris” fired minute guns and made other signals of extreme distress, and that in consequence of this nine other men-of-war bore down to her assistance, converging on her as a common focus, and were all simultaneously involved in her mournful fate—that of being dragged beneath the yawning waves by enormous poulpes. His pretended history, as well as his ingenious, but disingenuous theory, was drawn from his imagination; and the one is as false as the other is absurd.

“Voyage de Découvertes aux Terres australes.”

“Voyage de l’Uranie: Zoologie:” vol. i., part 2, p. 411. 1824.

“Manuel des Mollusques,” p. 86.

“Bemerk, Uber die Gattung der Dintenfisch, etc.,” 1793.

“Note sur la Seiche à six pattes, Sepia hexopodia de Molina, et sur deux autres espèces de Seiches signalées par cet auteur.”

De Ferussac severely denounces Molina’s lack of truthfulness, and administers a rebuke which may be useful to some writers of the present day. Whilst avoiding the imputation of wilful repetition and propagation of false-hood, he gravely censures the acceptance of error as truth. He says:—“This suggests sad reflections on the amplifications, reticences, and fantastic inventions of some savants, and on the absence of scrutiny apparent in some scientific works. It should serve to prove, more and more, the necessity of careful examination before accepting or rejecting doubtful species, although it is more convenient to accept statements as they are found, without taking the trouble to verify them by proper research. We know very well that the majority of naturalists, with the exception of a small number of especially pains-taking men, are unaware of the negligence, the double use of incidents, and the repetition of innumerable errors to which those who are content thus to work expose themselves.”

“British Conchology,” vol. v., p. 124.

In the illustration of this occurrence given in M. Louis Figuier’s book, “La Vie et les Mœurs des Animaux,” and the English translations of it, the size of the calamary is so exaggerated that undeserved discredit has been brought by it on the narrators of the incident.

This is the specimen described by Molina.

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE

Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within the text and consultation of external sources.

Some hyphens in words have been silently removed, some added, when a predominant preference was found in the original book.

Except for those changes noted below, all misspellings in the text, and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been retained.

Pg viii: ‘by De Ferrussac’ replaced by ‘by De Ferussac’. Pg 14: ‘all his villany’ replaced by ‘all his villainy’. Pg 52: ‘his hybernation’ replaced by ‘his hibernation’. Pg 99: ‘Cartœia, in Grenada’ replaced by ‘Carteia, in Grenada’. Footnote : ‘some savans’ replaced by ‘some savants’.