The Irish Penny Journal, Vol. 1 No. 40, April 3, 1841

Part 2

Chapter 24,117 wordsPublic domain

The company now began to grow musical; several songs were sung; and when the evening got farther advanced, a neighbouring fiddler was sent for, and the little party had a dance in the barn, to which they adjourned lest the noise might disturb Mrs Keho, had they held it in the dwelling-house. Before this occurred, however, the “midwife’s glass” went the round of the gossips, each of whom drank her health, and dropped some silver, at the same time, into the bottom of it. It was then returned to her, and with a smiling face she gave the following toast:--“Health to the parent stock! So long as it thrives, there will always be branches! Corny Keho, long life an’ good health to you an’ yours! May your son live to see himself as happy as his father! Youngsters, here’s that you may follow a good example! The company’s health in general I wish; an’, Paddy Rafferty, that you may never have a blind child but you’ll have a lame one to lead it!--ha! ha! ha! What’s the world widout a joke? I must see the good woman an’ my little son afore I go; but as I won’t follow yez to the barn, I’ll bid yez good night, neighbours, an’ the blessin’ of Rose Moan be among yez!”

And so also do we take leave of our old friend Rose Moan, the Irish Midwife, who we understand took her last leave of the world only about a twelvemonth ago.

[1] A wan-grace is a kind of small gruel or meal tea sweetened with sugar.

THE BAROMETZ, OR TARTAN LAMB.

Before steam and all the other facilities for travel had made us so well acquainted with the productions of remote parts of the earth as we are at present, every traveller on his return astonished his auditors or the readers of his works with accounts of monsters which existed only as the creations of his ingenuity, and to give importance to his discoveries. One out of many which could be produced, and which, as they may afford innocent amusement, we purpose from time to time to bring under the notice of the readers of the Penny Journal, we lately met with in an account of Struy’s Travels through Russia, Tartary, &c., in the seventeenth century. The object of wonder was in this case the Scythian or Tartarian lamb, a creature which, it was stated, sprang from the ground like a plant, and, restrained to the spot on which it was produced, devoured every vegetable production within its reach, and was itself in turn eaten by the wolves of the country. This singular production has since been found to be nothing more than a plant of the fern tribe, the _Aspedium barometz_, found occasionally in arid plains, where scarcely any other vegetable production can exist; it rises like many others of the tree ferns with a rugged or shaggy stem; and the plant having decayed or been uprooted by any accident, it is not impossible that by means of a storm or otherwise it might be found supported on its feet, namely, the stumps of the leaves; but that it pastured on other plants, or was mistaken by the wolves for a lamb, although speculations which the wonder-seeking traveller might be tempted to indulge in, it need hardly be said are ornamental additions introduced to suit the taste of the narrator, and to pander to that love of the marvellous which prevailed in the age in which he lived. The following is his account of this wonderful plant-animal:--

“On the western side of the Volga there is an elevated salt plain of great extent, but wholly uncultivated and uninhabited. On this plain (which furnishes all the neighbouring countries with salt) grows the boranez, or bornitch. This wonderful plant has the shape and appearance of a lamb, with feet, head, and tail distinctly formed. Boranez, in the language of Muscovy, signifies a little lamb. Its skin is covered with very white down, as soft as silk. The Tartars and Muscovites esteem it highly, and preserve it with great care in their houses, where I have seen many such lambs. The sailor who gave me one of those precious plants found it in a wood, and had its skin made into an under-waistcoat. I learned at Astrican from those who were best acquainted with the subject, that the lamb grows upon a stalk about three feet high, that the part by which it is sustained is a kind of navel, and that it turns itself round, and bends down to reach the herbage which serves it for food. They also said that it dries up and pines away when the grass fails. To this I objected, that the languor and occasional withering might be natural to it, as plants are accustomed to fade at certain times. To this they replied, that they had also once thought so, but that numerous experiments had proved the contrary to be the fact, such as cutting away, or by other means corrupting or destroying the grass all around it; after which they assured me that it fell into a languishing state and decayed insensibly. These persons also added, that the wolves are very fond of these vegetable lambs, and devour them with avidity, because they resemble in taste the animals whose name they bear, and that in fact they have bones, blood, and flesh, and hence they are called zoophytes, or plant-animals. Many other things I was likewise told, which might, however, appear scarcely probable to such as have not seen them.”

M.

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METHOD OF MAKING TAR AT ARCHANGEL.--They dig a hole in the ground, of sufficient size, some two or three fathoms deep, and little more than half way down they make a platform of wood, and thereon heap earth about a foot deep, except in the middle, where a hole is left in the form of a tunnel. They then fill the pit with fir billets piled up from the platform, and rising about a fathom or more above ground, which part they wall about with turf and clay to keep in the fire. They command the fire by quenching: for which use they make a lixivium of the ashes of fir. When all is ready, they set fire a-top, and keep the wood burning, but very leisurely, till it has sunk within a foot or two of the partition; and then they heave out the fire as fast as it is possible; for if it once laid hold of the tar which is settled down into the lower pit, it blows all up forthwith. These tar-pits take up a great deal of trouble, and many men to tend them during the time of their burning, that the fire may descend even and leisurely, whereby the tar may have time to soak out of the wood, and settle down into the pit. As it comes from the wood it is pure tar, but in the pit it mixes with water, which issues from the wood also; therefore it is afterwards clarified.--_Life of Sir Dudley North._

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AURORA BOREALIS.--According to Crantz, the Greenlanders hold the northern lights for a game of tennis, or for a dance of departed souls; and this opinion is not a whit more irrational than the superstition of the oriental nations, the Greeks and Romans, and all the unenlightened people of the middle ages, who, in the aurora borealis, and other fiery meteors, saw fighting armies, flaming swords, chariots and spears, battles and blood, and even thought that they heard the clashing of arms and the sound of martial music. In the rainbow the ancient inhabitants of the north discovered a bridge from earth to heaven, and called it the bridge of the gods, which was watched by a dog, whom no art could elude, and whose auditory faculty was such, that he could hear the grass grow or the wool on the sheep’s back; the Kamschatkadales make of it a new garment for their aërial spirits, edged with fringes of red-coloured seal-skin, and leather thongs of various gaudy dyes.

THE ISLE OF SAINTS.

“Primus ordo sanctissimus; secundus ordo sanctior; tertius sanctus. Primus sicut sol ardescit; secundus sicut luna; tertius sicut stellæ.”--See the ancient catalogue of the three classes of Irish saints, as published by Usher and Lanigan.

There lived to Erin’s hallowed borders, In days of yore, three saintly Orders. And first, the simply HOLY:--They Shed like the stars a flickering ray. The second--HOLIER--poured a light Moon-like, subdued and calmly bright. The third, or HOLIEST of all, Shone like the sun--or like Saint Paul.

But, oh, the state of man’s unrest In good!--the _last_ were first and best. The _middle_ but a term between The purest and the least serene; Less than the greatest--greater far Than those whose emblem is the star. Waning they ran a downward race, With fainter faith and lessening grace, Till, reaching to the stage most lowly, The least and latest were the Holy.

Oh, that they there had staid!--that sin Had, to this swept and garnished inn Returning, found the entrance barred, And Faith still keeping watch and ward!-- Alas!--they slept in Ease’s bower; They could not “watch one little hour.” The stars their ineffectual light In slumber sealed. The thief by night Entered; and o’er the rich domain Sowed tares among the better grain. Sin flourished;--poverty and strife Embittered all the charms of life; And passion, with unbounded sway, Swept sun and moon and stars away.

And yet not ever such, sweet Isle, Shall be thy fate. The stars shall smile Again upon thy valleys green, Again the moon shall beam serene Upon thy mountains; and the bright Celestial sun clothe thee with light, With plenty bless, and warm and cheer Thy long-delayed millenial year.

Even now the sacred morning dawns, The clouds are fleeting from thy lawns; And, as light thickens in the sky, Lo! Riot and Intemperance fly; And chaste sobriety imparts Her cup, and Industry his arts. Peace, Love, and Holiness once more Row their sweet ark towards thy shore; And Heaven renews the favouring smile That made thee once the SAINTLY ISLE.

ANIMAL CHARMING, OR THE SUBJUGATION OF ANIMALS BY MEANS OF CHARMS, SPELLS, OR DRUGS.

Third and Concluding Article.

In my last paper I endeavoured to show how exceedingly absurd and unfounded was the notion of the Abbé Dubois and Denon, that the serpent-charmers of India were and are a set of juggling impostors, who practise on the credulity of the vulgar, and vainly set forward pretensions to an art which has no actual existence, and which, consequently, possesses no legitimate claims on the attention of the philosophic inquirer. I now wish to bring all that I would observe upon this very curious subject to a conclusion. I acknowledge my inability to furnish my readers with a thorough explanation of the means by which these wonders are performed, but I think I may be able, at all events, to suggest such hints as may place them on the direct path to the attainment of the knowledge they desire; after which, nothing will be necessary but some degree of research and perseverance to afford them a complete gratification of their wishes.

It is evident, that whatever may be the supplementary means employed in serpent-charming, music is necessary to its accomplishment. I should not be satisfied on this point were it merely dependent upon the assertions of the jugglers themselves, as in such case it might not unnaturally be set down as a mere external cloak for some more important secret which the performers did not wish to be discovered; and for this reason I made the observation in my first article on this subject, that the precise importance of the music in these operations was not as yet entirely apparent. I wish it to be understood, however, that although the degree of importance in which music should be held as an adjunct to the charming of snakes, or as a primary part of the process, has not as yet been ascertained by those who have investigated or endeavoured to investigate the business, and published the results of their inquiries, I for my part am fully satisfied on the subject. To return, however, to our more immediate matter of discussion.

Many have conceived that serpent-charming depends in the first instance upon the snakes being previously deprived of their fangs, and thus rendered innocuous. This opinion I have already demonstrated as palpably erroneous. Others, again, hold that the jugglers possess a power, by eating certain herbs, or chewing the leaves or roots of certain plants, of rendering themselves proof against animal poisons. In order to render themselves perfectly secure, it is said that their practice is to chew the herbs, to inoculate various parts of their body with the juice, and even bathe themselves in water in which these herbs have been steeped. It is supposed that the bodies of the charmers thus become not merely proof against the most deadly poison should they chance to be bitten, but that those thus prepared exhale from their persons an odour which produces a benumbing or stupifying effect upon the reptiles, and renders them an easy capture. Whether or not it be true that such is the case, we know that the Psylli not merely profess the power of charming snakes, but also that of curing by spells, and the application of certain herbs, such as have been bitten by them. We are informed by the historian and biographer Plutarch, that Cato in his march through the desert took with him many of those persons called Psylli (then a distinct tribe, though at the present day that name is applied indiscriminately to all professing the art of serpent-charming) to suck out the poison from the wounds of any of his soldiers that might chance to be bitten by any of the numerous venomous serpents which infested his route. The powers of the Psylli were then always attributed to magic, and the performers themselves took care to confirm that opinion by accompanying the application of remedies to their patients with muttered spells or elaborately wrought and imposing incantations. This is a testimony respecting the ancient repute in which charmers were held, not lightly to be rejected.

While some travellers are too sceptical, I have likewise to complain that others are too credulous. For instance, while Dubois and Denon scout the idea of serpents being charmed at all, Bruce asserts, and that from minute personal observation, that all the blacks of Sennaar are completely armed by nature against the bite of either scorpion or viper. “They will,” says he, “take their horned snakes (there the most common and one of the most fatal of the viper tribe) in their hands at all times, put them in their bosoms, and throw them at one another as children will balls or apples, during which sport the serpents are seldom irritated to bite, or if they do, no mischief results from the wound.” Of course it must be evident that Bruce in this instance ascribed rather too much to the bounty of nature, and forgot how far art might have aided in producing the appearance which astonished him.

Don Pedro D’Orbies Y. Vargas, who published in the year 1791 the result of a series of investigations he instituted to ascertain the secret on which serpent-charming depended, informs us that it is also extensively practised by the natives of South America, and that they produce the wished-for end by means of a certain plant named the quacho-mithy, so designated from its having been first observed to have been resorted to by the serpent-hawk, or, as the bird is sometimes styled, the “quacho-mithy,” and by it sucked, preparatory to its encounters with the poisonous reptiles which it fought with and destroyed for its prey. Taking the hint from the naturally and instinctively instructed bird, the Indians chewed the plant thus discovered, and inoculated and washed their bodies with its juice, rubbing it into punctures made in their breasts, hands, and feet; and, thus prepared, they dreaded not the bite of the most venomous snake. Don Pedro himself, and the domestics of his household, used after these simple precautions to venture into the thickest woods and the most dangerous meadows, and fearlessly seize in their hands the largest and most poisonous serpents; the creatures seemed as if under the influence of a sort of charm or fascination, and very rarely attempted to bite; and at any rate, even if they did, no evil consequence resulted from the wound beyond the temporary inconvenience produced by the laceration of the flesh by the animals’ teeth.

The same gentleman to whom I was indebted for the anecdote of the encounter with the cobra de capella, mentioned in a preceding paper, informed me that he had detected a snake-charmer in the act of chewing and inoculating himself with some plant, the name or character of which he could not however ascertain, though he offered the juggler a considerable sum for the information. One of the leaves of this plant, and the only one he saw, he states to have been of a long and narrow form, with the sides indented or scolloped, somewhat like those of our own common dandelion.

Now, it appears to me by no means difficult of deduction from the facts brought forward in this and the preceding papers on the same subject, that the secret of the snake-charmers is dependent upon two ingredients, viz, in the first place the employment of an antidote which will not only mollify the effects of the reptiles’ venom, should the experimenters happen to be bitten, but, from some peculiar odour which it emits, stupify or intoxicate the snake, and indispose it from violence, inclining it rather to appreciate the melody with which they are treating it, and luxuriate in hearing of their fife; and, in the second place, the sounds of music which the whole class of reptiles appear more or less to be sensible of, and which will induce the serpents to quit their holes when they come within the sphere of the influence of the intoxicating odour, and, abandoning themselves to its effects, fall into a state of temporary oblivion, and are taken captive. We ourselves are well acquainted with several substances which are capable of producing upon such creatures as we are conversant with in these islands, effects no less astonishing than those produced upon the snakes by the charmers of India or South America. It is, for instance, a very common thing, and an experiment I have not only often seen tried, but have tried myself dozens of times, and that with success, to charm trout, perch, or roach, with assafœtida. If you sprinkle this substance, finely powdered, upon the surface of the water, you will presently see the fish crowding to the spot; and even if you rub your hands well with it, and, gradually approaching the water, gently immerse them in it, you will ere long find the fish attracted towards you, and, losing their natural timidity, actually permit themselves to be taken. Many have imagined that it was upon the use of a certain drug that the wonderful power possessed and successfully exerted by Sullivan, the whisperer, depended; but for my part I think the circumstance of Sullivan’s son having been unable to produce similar effects, although instructed by his father in the mystery, is sufficient to show that Sullivan’s trick depended upon some means less certain in operation than the mere employment of a drug would be, and in which mechanical dexterity and personal bearing occupied places of no mean importance.

Rat-catchers used formerly to employ certain drugs, or combinations of them, to collect these vermin into one place, and thus destroy them wholesale, or to entice them into the trap; and it has been pretended by some worthy members of this ancient and mystic calling, that they are possessed of secrets by which they can, if they please, draw away all the rats from any premises on which they may be employed. I have, however, sought after the most _talented_ living professors of rat-catching, and I cannot say I have ever witnessed miracles equal to that. I have, however, _seen_ a trap placed in a cellar haunted by rats, and left there all night, filled next morning with these vermin to the number of thirty, and surrounded by a host of others, who actually could not enter from want of room! I have _seen_ a tame white rat smeared with a certain composition, let loose in a vault, and in less than half an hour return, followed by at least half a dozen others, who appeared so enamoured of the white-coloured decoy, or of some scent that hung about him, that they suffered themselves to be taken alive in the rat-catcher’s hand, and never so much as offer to bite. I purchased this secret from an old rat-catcher, and have much pleasure in communicating it to the public, and more especially to the discriminating patrons of the Irish Penny Journal. It consists of the following simple preparation:--

Powdered assafœtida 2 grains. Essential oil of rhodium 3 drachms. Essential oil of lavender 1 scruple. Oil of aniseed 1 drachm.

Let the assafœtida be first well triturated with the aniseed, then add the oil of rhodium, still continuing to rub the material well up together in a mortar, after which add the oil of lavender, and cork up the mixture in a close bottle until required. The method of employing this receipt is very simple, and consists merely in smearing the decoy rat with it, in mixing a few drops of it with a little flour or starch, and employing the paste thus formed as a bait for the trap; and if you anoint your hands with this mixture, you may put them into a cage full of rats without the slightest danger of a bite. I have done so repeatedly myself, and never got bitten unless when I had prepared the composition improperly, or displayed timidity in proceeding to handle the animals--a defect of demeanour which appears capable of counteracting the working of the charm.

The liking which rats exhibit for the perfume produced by the above simple composition is truly wonderful, but will be readily admitted, even while as yet its efficacy remains untested, by any person who has witnessed the passion exhibited by cats for valerian, or of dogs for galbanum, and after much consideration and attentive observation I have come to the conclusion that the effects produced by different substances upon these animals have a common origin, viz., in the peculiar odour calling into play the sexual appetite, and that too in a more than commonly energetic manner; of course I only mean to apply this latter observation to the case of dogs, rats, and cats. I have no intention of thus seeking to explain away the effect produced upon serpents or fishes by certain odours, accompanied by music; indeed, in these instances I should rather ascribe the effects produced to a sort of intoxicating, fascinating influence, bearing no distant resemblance to the power exercised towards other animals by many of the serpent tribe themselves. The fascination of the rattle-snake, for example, seems in a great measure to depend upon the agency of a certain intoxicating odour which the reptile has the power of producing at pleasure. In support of this opinion I may adduce the testimony of Major A. Gordon, who thus explains the fascination of serpents in a paper read before the New York Historical Society. He adduced various facts in support of his opinions, and amongst the rest mentions a negro, who could by smell alone discover a rattle-snake when in the exercise of this power, at the distance of two hundred feet, and who, following such indications, never failed of finding some poor animal drawn within its vortex, and in vain struggling with the irresistible influence. By no means remotely allied to charming and fascination would appear to be that mysterious and as yet doubtful power, animal magnetism, a subject on which I shall not dilate, as it hardly falls within the limits indicated by the heading of this paper, which has now run to a length considerably greater than I contemplated at starting; and consequently I think it time to take my leave, trusting I have at least given a clue to the great secret on which depends the magical influence of the serpent-charmer.

H. D. R.

WHY DO ROOTS GROW DOWNWARDS, AND STEMS TOWARDS THE HEAVENS?