Part 1

ANTHROPOPHAGY,

BY

CHARLES W. DARLING,

Cor. Sec. of The Oneida Historical Society at Utica, N. Y.; Member of the American Historical Association; Hon. Member of the Alabama, New Jersey, Iowa State, and New York State Chautauqua Historical Societies; Cor. Member of the Am. Numismatic and Archæological, and the Buffalo Historical Societies, N. Y. S.; Bangor, Maine, New Hampshire, Middlebury, Vt., New England Historic Genealogical, Boston, Mass.; New Haven Colony, Conn.; Linnæan, Numismatic and Antiquarian of Pa.; Maryland, Virginia, Georgia, Tennessee, Wisconsin State, Kansas, Minnesota and Nebraska State Historical Societies.

(PRIVATELY PRINTED.)

UTICA, N. Y. T. J. GRIFFITHS, BOOK AND JOB PRINTER. 1886.

PREFATORY NOTE.

In giving himself to general reading relating to the origin and history of the human family, the writer of the following pages was impressed with the frequent allusion to man-eating among many of the peoples of the world; and although in itself it is an unattractive subject, and perhaps to some repellant; for his own amusement, and it may be for the instruction of others, he has been prompted to collate some of the references to this unhallowed custom, in a connected form. How well he has succeeded in his effort he will leave it to the reader to determine. The only merit to which he might possibly lay claim is fidelity to the facts as recorded by the historians and travelers of the age.

C. W. D.

ANTHROPOPHAGISM.

According to classic mythology, the _Cyclops_ were giant cannibals, each of whom had a single eye, conveniently placed in the centre of his forehead. As the account of these Cyclops is so suggestive, let the story concerning them be told with some variations from the history as given by Lamb. Ulysses, after the destruction of Troy by the Grecians, coasted with his fleet along unknown shores, until the land where these Cyclops dwelt was reached. He immediately went on shore with a chosen party of twelve, by whom the land was peopled. The first sign of habitation to which they came was a giant’s cave rudely fashioned, but of a size, however, which betokened the vast proportions of its owner. The pillars which supported it were huge oaks, and all about showed marks of strength. Ulysses, having entered, admired the savage contrivances of the place, and while thus occupied, a deafened noise like the falling of a house was heard. It proved to be the owner of the cave, Polyphemus, the largest and most savage of the Cyclops, who had been abroad all day in the mountains, and as he reached home he threw down a pile of fire-wood, which occasioned the startling crash. The Grecians, at sight of the uncouth monster, who looked more like a mountain crag than a man, hid themselves in the remote parts of the cave, and after he had passed in, he blocked up the entrance with a rock so large that twenty oxen could not draw it. Having kindled a fire, throwing his great eye around the cave, by the glimmering light he discerned at last some of Ulysses’ men. “Ho! guests, what are you? Merchants, or wandering thieves?” he bellowed out. Only Ulysses summoned resolution to answer that they came neither for plunder nor traffic, but were Grecians who had lost their way in returning from Troy, which famous city under Agamemnon, they had sacked and laid level with the ground. They now prostrated themselves humbly before his feet, whom they acknowledged to be mightier than they, and besought him that he would bestow upon them the rights of hospitality. Jove was the avenger of wrongs done to strangers, and would fiercely resent any injury they might suffer. “Fool!” said the Cyclop, “to come so far to preach to me the fear of the gods. We Cyclops care not for your Jove; we are stronger than he, and dare bid him to open battle.” He then snatched two of the shivering wretches nearest him, dashed out their brains against the earth, and after tearing in pieces their limbs, devoured them, still warm and trembling, as would a lion, lapping up also their blood.

Alexander Pope, in his translation of Odyssey, thus gives Ulysses’ description of his trials:

“He answered with his deed: his bloody hand Snatch’d two, unhappy! of my martial band; And dashed like dogs against the stony floor: The pavement swims with brains and mingled gore. Torn limb from limb, he spreads his horrid feast, And fierce devours it like a mountain beast; He sucks the marrow, and the blood he drains, Nor entrails, flesh, nor solid bone remains. We see the death from which we cannot move, And humbled groan beneath the hand of Jove. His ample maw with human carnage till’d, A milky deluge next the giant swill’d; Then stretch’d in length o er half the cavern’d rock, Lay senseless, and supine, amidst the flock.”

Having now made an end of his supper, he took a great draught of goat’s milk, and sank into a deep sleep. Ulysses at once drew his sword, and half resolved to thrust it into the sleeping monster; but desisted when he remembered that only Polyphemus could remove the massive stone which guarded the entrance. The night was passed in great fear.

When daylight appeared the Cyclop awoke, and kindling a fire, made his breakfast on another brace of Greeks; then pushing aside the huge rock, and rolling it to its place again, he stalked toward the mountains. Toward evening he returned, smacked his lips and enjoyed another Phrygian stew. Supper over, Ulysses offered him strong wine, which the brute took and drank. He liked it so well that he told Ulysses he would show him the kindness to eat him last of all his friends. Having thus expressed his thankfulness, he sank into a dead slumber, and then Ulysses gave proof how far manly wisdom excels brutish force.

He chose a stake from among the wood which the Cyclop had piled up for firing, in length and thickness like a mast, which he sharpened and hardened in the fire, and then with the assistance of his men, thrust the sharp red hot end into the eye of the drunken cannibal. The scalded blood gushed out, the eyeball smoked, and the strings of the eye cracked as the burning rafter broke in it; the eye fairly hissed as hot iron hisses when plunged into water. The giant waking, roared with the pain so loudly that the sound seemed like heavy thunder-claps. He plucked the burning stake from his eye, and hurled the wood madly about the cave. Blind and groaning with pain, he groped through the darkness to find the doorway, from which when found he removed the stone, and sat in the threshold to prevent Ulysses and the survivors of his band from going out. They managed, however, to elude his vigilance, and returned to their ships, where their companions, with tears in their eyes, received them as men escaped from death. Quickly they spread their sails, plied their oars, and moved away from that dreadful spot. The Cyclop hearing the noise pushed to the water’s brink, plucked a fragment of rock, and threw it with blind fury at the ships. It narrowly escaped lighting upon the bark in which Ulysses sat. Ulysses cried out to the Cyclop: “Cyclop, thou shouldst not have so much abused thy monstrous strength, as to devour thy guests. If any ask who imposed on thee that unsightly blemish in thine eye, say it was Ulysses, son of Laertes, the King of Ithaca.” Then crowding sail, they glided rapidly before the wind, and soon came to Lamos, a port of the _Læstrygonians_.

“Six days and nights a doubtful course we steer, The next proud Lamos’ stately towers appear, And Læstrygonia’s gates arise distinct in air. Within a long recess a bay there lies, Edged round with cliffs high pointing to the skies; The jutting shores that swell on either side Contract its mouth, and break the rushing tide. Our eager sailors seize the fair retreat, And bound within the port their crowded fleet: For here retired the sinking billows sleep, And smiling calmness silver’d o er the deep. I only in the bay refused to moor, And fix’d, without, my haisers to the shore. From thence we climb’d a point, whose airy brow Commands the prospect of the plains below: Two with our herald thither we command. With speed to learn what men possess’d the land. They went, and kept the wheel’s smooth-beated road Which to the city drew the mountain wood; When lo! they met, beside a crystal spring, The daughter of Antiphates the king; The damsel they approach, and ask’d what race The people were? who monarch of the place? With joy the maid the unwary strangers heard, And show’d them where the royal dome appear’d. They went; but as they entering saw the queen Of size enormous, and terrific mien Swift at her call her husband scour’d away To wreck his hunger on the destined prey; One for his food the raging glutton slew, But two rush’d out, and to the navy flew. Balk’d of his prey, the yelling monster flies, And fills the city with his hideous cries: A ghastly band of giants hear the roar, And, pouring down the mountains, crowd the shore. Fragments they rend from off the craggy brow And dash the ruins on the ships below: The crackling vessels burst; hoarse groans arise, And mingled horrors echo to the skies; The men like fish, they struck upon the flood. And crammed their filthy throats with human food.”

Following the old classic story a little further, Ulysses and his followers pass onward to the abode of the _Sirens_, where Pope has brought together their experience in the following rhyme:

“Unblest the man, whom music wins to stay Nigh the cursed shore, and listen to the lay. No more that wretch shall view the joys of life, His blooming offspring, or his beaut’ous wife! In verdant meads they sport; and wide around Lie human bones that whiten all the ground: The ground polluted floats with human gore, And human carnage taints the dreadful shore. Fly swift the dangerous coast; let every ear Be stopped against the song! ’tis death to hear! Firm to the mast with chains thyself be bound, Nor trust thy virtue to the enchanting sound.”

Continuing his journey, Ulysses and his men reach the whirlpools in which _Scylla_ and _Charybdis_ lurked, and their experience here is thus given in the Odyssey:

“Now, through the rocks, appall’d with deep dismay, We bend our course, and stem the desperate way; Dire Scylla there a scene of horror forms, And here Charybdis fills the deep with storms. The rock re-bellows with a thundering sound; Deep, wondrous deep, below appears the ground. Struck with despair, with trembling hearts we view’d The yawning dungeon, and the tumbling flood; When lo! fierce Scylla stoop’d to seize her prey, Stretch’d her dire jaws and swept six men away, Chiefs of renown! loud echoing shrieks arise: I turn, and view them quivering in the skies; They call, and aid with outstretch’d arms implore: In vain they call! those arms are stretched no more. In the wide dungeon she devours her food, And the flesh trembles while she churns the blood.”

It would appear that even the old cynic philosopher _Diogenes_ was somewhat given, theoretically at least, to anthropophagy, for we read of him as saying that the flesh of man was good, and might as well be an article of food as the flesh of any of the lower animals. Whether this remarkable sage ever put his theory to the test is not known, for no such confession appears among his precepts or teachings.

Referring now to accounts far less legendary, it is safe to admit that beyond all successful dispute man’s earliest home was in Asia. History plainly points to this land as the cradle of the human family. In looking over this vast continent, among the earliest people who practiced cannibalism were the Chinese. Their mode of preparing a human body previous to eating the same was as repulsive as any of the peoples who never rose to the dignity of an organized government. Having previously boiled the parts designed to be consumed, especially the heart, they made soup of the same and partook of it with no little relish. This was called by them drinking the heart’s blood of the enemy, and favored perhaps as much of bravado as a desire to satisfy appetite.

In _Shanghai_, during the Taeping siege, Wilson describes an English merchant, who met his native servant carrying the heart of a rebel, and on enquiring the disposition which he proposed to make of it, replied “that he was taking it home to eat for the purpose of making him brave.”

The _Battaks_ or _Battas_, a race of people at Batta, in the north of Sumatra, and an offshoot of the Malay stock, are cannibals. They are heathen, very superstitious, and in courage surpass all the other tribes of Sumatra. Anthropophagy, it is said, still exists among them; nor has the distant Dutch government on the west coast as yet succeeded in eradicating the great moral blemish ascribed to these natives. Marsden describes them as being so fond of their aged kinsfolk, that they seldom lose a chance to _eat_ them.

Rev. Henry Lyman was one of the first missionaries sent to the East Indian Archipelago, by the American Board of Foreign Missions, in 1834. As he was departing for his field of labor, a friend humorously ventured to express the hope that he would not “_disagree_ with those savages.” Whether he did or not, can never be told, as this martyr was eaten by the natives soon after his arrival at Sumatra.

Another authority fully as reliable, Mr. Anderson, relates that these Battaks not only eat their dead victims, but begin their consumption before they have been deprived of life; and the causes that provoke this disposition are midnight robbery, treacherous attacks, and intermarriage.

Junghuhn declares that warlike ferocity prompted these people to eat their enemies; he also describes them as regarding human flesh a great delicacy. In fact, they devoured not only war-captives, but even criminals, slaves, and their aged relations. They speak a peculiar language, have an original alphabet or character, and write on pieces of bamboo. They commence at the bottom of the page, write from right to left, and make books of the inner bark of a species of palm.

Herodotus in the course of his history describes some of the funeral feasts in _Central Asia_. It would appear that at the time of which he was speaking the people there ate the bodies of the deceased, and the skulls were set in gold and carefully preserved. This act was interpreted as a sacred rite, and religious ceremonies were connected with it in honor of the dead.

The _Thibetans_, who belong ethnographically, to the Mongolian race, had the like custom of regaling themselves upon their defunct ancestors; and Rubruquis adds that they used also skulls as cups from which they drank. With these people tradition reaches back to the first century before Christ, at which time the country was divided into numerous small kingdoms. In the first century after Christ, fifty-three of these kingdoms became tributary to the dragon throne of China; a prince of India united the others on the Yarlung River into one state, and Thibet became a Chinese province.

The _Paramahausans_ of Hindostan, says Bucke, ate the putrid bodies which they found floating down the Ganges, and that they esteemed the brain the most exquisite of all food; many of them have been seen near Benares, repellant as is the language, feasting upon dead bodies.

Solinus relates that the _Derbices_ so far forgot their filial relation that, having slain their fathers ate them, and regarded the act in the light of a solemn duty. When a certain monarch of India enquired of the Greeks what reward would induce them to follow such an unnatural example, replied, “No recompense under heaven.” The bare suggestion was not only an impiety, but it fairly sickened them to think of consuming those to whom they were indebted for life. Later, when the Indian king was advised by the more humane Greek to cinerate their dead, he in turn rebelled against such an unholy suggestion.

The religious doctrine that the soul outlives the body, continuing in ghostly shape to visit the living, and retaining a certain connection with the mortal remains it once inhabited, has evidently led many to propitiate an honored and dreaded spirit by respectful disposal of the corpse. Taking this combination of causes into consideration, it is readily understood why aversion to cannibalism as a rule must have been established at a very early period, and it is well to consider what causes have from time to time led to its adoption. The principal of these have been the pressure of famine, the fury of hatred, and sometimes even a morbid kindness, with certain motives of magic and religion; to which must be added the strong tendency to cannibalism, when once started in any of these ways, to develop a confirmed appetite which subsequently is indulged for its own sake.

Pass we now to Europe and other countries where the same customs have existed as were practiced by the peoples named.

The records of shipwrecks and sieges prove that famine will sometimes overcome the horrors of cannibalism among men of the higher nations. During the great famine which smote the city of Moscow with such severity, it was estimated that no less than half a million of human beings died from hunger. Along the most public of the streets as well as in the narrow lanes-where lived the poor, multitudes fell down dying with no friendly person near them, and others too much exhausted to take the few crumbs proffered. Children sold their aged parents for such food as they could purchase, and as in many prolonged sieges parents were compelled to partake of their own children after famine had wrought in them its dreadful work.

Josephus records the fact that during the siege of Jerusalem, women snatched the bread out of the mouths of their husbands, and in every house where there appeared any semblance of food, a battle ensued and the dearest friends fought with one another to secure the scanty provisions. An instance is recorded where two women are described as agreeing to eat their two sons, during the famine in Lamoine.

At the siege of Antioch during the crusades in 1097, a famine, says Bucke, existed in the Christian camp, and human flesh was eagerly devoured. At the siege of Marra the crusaders ate bodies taken from the graves of their adversaries, and the historian (Albert) who records the fact, expresses surprise that they should prefer the flesh of dogs to that of Saracens.

In comparatively modern times during the reign of Shah Husseyn in 1716, Ispahan in Persia was besieged by Mahmud, Chief of the Afghans, when the besieged having consumed their horses, mules, camels, the leaves and bark of trees, and even cloth and leather, finished—so great was the famine—with not only eating their neighbors and fellow citizens, but their own offspring. It has been alleged that more human beings were devoured when this investment took place, than ever was known in any previous struggle.

CANNIBALISM AT SEA.

A sad and recent experience under equally distressing circumstances, is here told of four sailors, who were adrift for eight days in a dory; one of whom was partly eaten by a shipmate:

“LOUISBURG, Cape Breton, April 8, 1886—James McDonald of Eastpoint, P. E. I.; S. McDonald of Broadcove, C. B.; Colon Chisholm of Harbor Bouch, N. S., and Angus McEchern of Long Point Cape, of the American fishing schooner Elsie M. Low; March 30 left their vessel in two dories to look after trawls on the western banks, but a fog set in, and when they were pulling back for their vessel they got astray. Subsequently calls for help from one brought the two together again. There being no prospect of the fog lifting or reply to their oft repeated shouts, they decided to all get in one dory and make their way toward land. They had neither food nor water, as they had not expected to be gone long. The second day the sun came out bright and clear, but no sail was in sight, save the smoke of one or two steamers on the horizon, the sufferings of the castaways from thirst were now becoming intense. The succeeding night was extremely cold and rough and the dory iced up badly, taking all the exertions of the now weakened men to keep her head to the sea. Some of them held pieces of ice to their mouths and so endeavored to relieve their parched throats to a slight extent. Of the succeeding six days’ history it is almost impossible to obtain a correct account, for all were dazed. The light house keeper at Guyon Island, off Cape Breton, near Louisburg, observed the dory being feebly pulled toward the light and assisted the men ashore. His eyes met a ghastly sight. In the bow of the dory was a lifeless, naked body, that of James McDonald, much lacerated. One of his arms was hacked off at the elbow, his throat much torn and pieces cut out of each thigh, while scattered remains of his arm and flesh and bones, telling the horrible tale of cannibalism, were in other parts of the boat. The body of the other McDonald was under the thwarts in the bottom of the boat. The latter was the chief cannibal. He clamored for his dead comrade’s blood, tore his throat and sucked it, while the others, worn out, slept, and when they awoke offered them some of the flesh, which they refused. He then cried for more blood, saying it tasted like cream, but was unable to extract it from the lifeless carcass. The next day he became insane, and was with difficulty restrained from violence by the two remaining comrades until he himself died on the seventh day. He is a brother of a prominent lawyer of Halifax. The men rowed in their dory about 90 miles with only the sun and stars to guide them. One of the two survivors Chisholm is very sick and may not recover, while McEchern is extremely weak and very reticent. The light house keeper took the bodies to Louisburg, where a tremendous sensation was caused among the people of the old French fishing village. A jury was empaneled and the inquest brought out the above story.”

The earliest references to this subject among the English, are certain accusations brought against the Saxon conquerors of that country in the chronicles called the Welsh Triads. In these historical documents it is alleged that _Ethelfrith_, King of England, encouraged cannibalism at his court; and that _Gwri_, a truant Welshman, became so enamored of human flesh that he would eat no other food. It was his custom to have a male and female “Kymry” killed for his own eating every day, except Saturday, when he slaughtered two of each, in order to be spared the sin of breaking the Sabbath.