Part 1
THE PENNY MAGAZINE
OF THE
Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge.
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11.] PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY. [June 2, 1832
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THE CROCODILE.
[Illustration: A crocodile in a tropical landscape.]
We have already translated an account of the mode of killing the hippopotamus, from Dr. Rüppell’s Travels; to which we shall now add, from the same writer, a description of the somewhat similar way in which the crocodile is caught by the natives of Dongola.
“The most favourable season for catching the crocodile is the winter, when the animal usually sleeps on sandbanks to enjoy the sun; or, during the spring, after pairing-time, when the female regularly watches the sand-islands where she has buried her eggs. The native spies out the place, and on the south side of it (that is, to the leeward) he makes a hole in the sand by throwing up the earth on the side on which he expects the crocodile. There he hides himself, and if the crocodile does not observe him, it comes to the usual place and soon falls asleep in the sun. Then the huntsman darts his harpoon with all his might at the beast. To succeed, the iron end ought to penetrate at least to the depth of four inches, in order that the barb may hold fast. The wounded crocodile flies to the water, and the huntsman to his canoe, with which a companion hastens to his assistance. A piece of wood fastened to the harpoon by a long cord swims on the water, and shows the direction in which the crocodile is moving. The huntsmen, by pulling at this rope, draw the beast to the surface of the water, where it is soon pierced by a second harpoon.
“The dexterity consists in giving to the spear sufficient strength to pierce through the coat of mail which protects the crocodile, who does not remain inactive after he is wounded, but gives violent blows with his tail, and tries to bite asunder the harpoon rope. To prevent this, the rope is made of thirty different thin lines, placed side by side, and tied together at intervals of every two feet, so that the thin lines get entangled and fastened in the hollows of the animal’s teeth. Very frequently the harpoons, through the pulling, break out of the crocodile’s body, and it escapes. If I had not seen the fact with my own eyes, I could hardly have believed that two men could draw out of the water a crocodile fourteen feet long, fasten his muzzle, tie his legs over his back, and finally kill the beast by plunging a sharp weapon into his neck, and dividing the spinal nerve. The iron part of the harpoon which is used by the huntsmen is a span long; towards the point it is formed like a penknife, being sharp at one end and on one side. There is a strong barb immediately following the edge, and at the other end is a projecting piece to which the rope is fastened. This iron is put on a wooden shaft eight feet long.
“The flesh and fat of the crocodile are eaten by the Berbers, among whom they pass for a dainty bit. Both parts, however, have a kind of musk smell so strong, that I could never eat crocodile’s flesh without vomiting afterwards. The four musk glands of the crocodile are a great part of the profit which results from the capture, as the Berbers will give as much as two dollars in specie for the four glands, which they use as a perfumed unguent for the hair.”
When Herodotus was in Egypt about 450 years before the Christian era, the following was the way in which this formidable reptile was taken prisoner:--
“There are many ways of catching crocodiles in Egypt, but the following seems to me best worth relating. The huntsman puts the chine of a pig as a bait on a hook, and lets it down into the river. In the mean time he takes his station on the bank, holding a young pig, which he beats in order to make it squeal out. The crocodile, on hearing this, makes towards the sound, but meeting with the bait on his way he swallows it down. Then the men begin to pull, and after he is fairly hauled out on dry land, the first thing the huntsman does is to plaster the crocodile’s eyes up with mud. If he can succeed in doing this, there is no difficulty in managing the beast; otherwise it is a very troublesome affair[1].”
The different treatment which this monster received in different parts of ancient Egypt is curious, and not very easily accounted for. In the southern parts, near the cataracts, the crocodile was an article of food, but probably only with a particular caste, as in Dongola at the present day. In other parts, as at Thebes and near the great Lake Moeris (now Keroun), it was fashionable to have a pet crocodile, who was fed daintily and treated with great respect. “They put,” says Herodotus, “pendents of glass and gold in their ears, and rings round their fore-legs: they also give them a regular allowance of bread and meat, and take all possible care of them while alive. When they die, the Egyptians embalm them and put them in sacred sepulchres.” Fortunately for the credit of Herodotus, a mummy of a crocodile has been found with his ears pierced for pendents, which fact is particularly mentioned by M. Geoffroy St. Hilaire[2].
Strabo tells an odd story of a crocodile which he saw when he visited Egypt, somewhat more than 400 years after the visit of Herodotus. “In this district they honour the crocodile very much, and they have a sacred one which lives by itself in the lake, and is quite tame to the priests. He is called Suchus, and is fed with bread, and meat, and wine, which he gets from strangers who come to see him. Our host, who was a person of importance in the place, accompanied us to the lake, taking with him from table a small cake, some roasted meat, and a little cup full of some sweet liquor. We found the crocodile lying on the margin of the lake. The priests went up to him, and while some opened his mouth, another crammed into it, first the cake, then the meat, and, last of all, poured the drink down his throat. The crocodile, after this treat, jumped into the lake, and swam over to the other side[3].” In the Townley Gallery of the British Museum (Room VI. No. 88) there is a piece of sculpture representing a man mounted on the back of a crocodile, in a singular attitude, which will be best understood by a visit to the Museum.
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Footnote 1:
Herodotus, ii. 70.
Footnote 2:
Annales du Muséum, vol. ix. p. 386.
Footnote 3:
Description of Egypt, Book xvii.
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STATISTICAL NOTES.
ENGLAND AND WALES (CONTINUED).
(10.) The sum expended for the maintenance of the poor of England in the year ending March 25th, 1830, was 6,553,443_l._ For Wales, the sum for that year was 275,598_l._ Although the population since 1750 has only about doubled itself, the poor rates have increased, since that year, more than tenfold. For the ten manufacturing and mining counties, mentioned in paragraph 2, (viz., Lancaster to Salop,) the increase has been from 107,927_l._ in 1750 to 1,337,011_l._ in 1830; for the thirteen counties in paragraph 3, (Surrey to Hertford, including the Metropolitan,) from 294,070_l._ to 2,666,199_l._; and for the nineteen agricultural counties, in paragraph 4, from 277,865_l._ to 2,550,330_l._ The sum expended for the poor of Middlesex in 1830, was 675,285_l._; next to this comes Kent, 358,461_l._, though only the sixth county in the order of population; then, Norfolk, 299,211_l._, though only the ninth county in population; then, Lancaster, the third in population, 297,674_l._; then, Essex, the fourteenth in population, and containing about one-fourth of the people in Lancashire, 282,133_l._; then, the West Riding of Yorkshire, with a population of 976,400, 281,158_l._ The ratio of the poor rates of the ten manufacturing counties to their population is about as one to three; that of the thirteen metropolitan and other counties, about one-half; and that of the nineteen agricultural counties, as about two to three. The chief burthen of pauperism, therefore, falls upon the agricultural districts.
(11.) The committals for crime in the ten manufacturing districts were in 1805, 1,198, and in 1829, 6,430; in the thirteen metropolitan and other districts, they were in 1805, 2,317, and in 1829, 7,844; and in the nineteen agricultural counties, they were in 1805, 1,012, and in 1829, 4,158. In all Wales the committals decreased from 78 in 1805, to 24 in 1829. The number of persons committed for trial at Assizes and Sessions in England and Wales in 1830, was 18,107, of whom 12,805 were convicted, 3,470 acquitted, and 1,832 had no bills found against them and were not prosecuted. Of the convicted, 1397 were sentenced to death, and 46 executed. As a general result, the committals in England are thus in the proportion of one to 740 inhabitants; and in Wales, of one to 2,320. In London and Middlesex the proportion is higher than in any other county, being one committal to every 400 inhabitants; in Surrey the proportion is one to 680; in Kent, one to 730; in Sussex, one to 750; in Essex, one to 650; in Hertfordshire, one to 520; in Bedfordshire, one to 710. In the manufacturing districts the proportion is in Lancashire one to 650; in Warwickshire, one to 480; in Gloucestershire (including Bristol), one to 540; in Nottingham, one to 750; in Cheshire, one to 630. In the more remote counties the proportion is small, that of Northumberland being only one to 2,700; of Durham, one to 2,460; and of Cornwall, one to 1,600. It should be remarked, that of late, other causes than the advance of crime have tended to fill the prisons, such as the Malicious Trespass Act, and the law for paying prosecutors their expenses in cases of misdemeanour; and it is most satisfactory to observe that the darker crimes have, of late years, been less apparent than of old.
(12.) The number of depositors in Savings’ Banks in England in 1830 (including 5,904 Friendly and Charitable Societies) was 373,716, and in Wales 10,404. The total amount thus invested was, in England, 13,080,255_l._, and, in Wales, 340,721_l._ The proportion of the depositors to the total population, is therefore about 34 in every 1000, or one in 30. The average of the ten counties, in paragraph 2, is 25 depositors to every 1000; of the thirteen counties, in paragraph 3, it is 33 depositors to every 1000; and of the nineteen counties, in paragraph 4, it is 27 to every 1000. In Devonshire the proportion of depositors is the highest, being 55 to 1000; in Middlesex and Berkshire it is 50 to 1000; in Lancashire and Warwickshire, 20 to 1000; in Kent, Sussex, and Dorset, 36 to 1000; and in Monmouth, Westmoreland, and Buckingham about 12 to 1000 of the population. The average amount of each deposit is about 34_l._, and there has of late been a considerable increase in the number of depositors of sums under 20_l._, who amount now to 192,881. By some this fact is regarded as a proof of the growth of prudential habits among the mass of the working classes. It would be more exact to say so, of a _small portion_ of the working classes, the fact being that 29 out of 30 of our population do not contribute to Savings’ Banks at all. There are some debatable questions in regard to the effect produced by the appropriation of the funds of the Savings’ Banks by the Commissioners for the reduction of the National Debt, but such questions cannot at all affect the manifest advantage to be attained by every working man in saving his money at interest, in preference to squandering it.
(13.) It has been already seen in paragraph 3, that the rate of increase of the population of Middlesex (including the city of London) since 1700 has been 117 per cent., being 37 per cent. less than the average of the rest of England. The following is a statement of the present population of the Metropolis commonly called London, as compared with 1801:--
1801. 1831. City of London, within the Walls 63,832 55,778 Ditto without the Walls 65,696 67,480 City and Liberties of Westminster 153,272 202,050 Holborn Division 73,835 97,373 Finsbury ditto 67,155 139,248 Tower ditto 185,508 351,647 Ten parishes in Surrey, viz. five in Southwark, and Bermondsey, Rotherhithe, Newington, Christchurch, and Lambeth, adjacent 137,655 266,499 ------- --------- Total within the Bills of Mortality 746,953 1,180,075 Five western parishes of St. Mary-le-bone, St. Pancras, Paddington, St. Luke Chelsea, and Kensington 117,802 273,587 ------- --------- Total of the Metropolis 864,755 1,453,662
Those who desire fuller information in regard to London and its environs should consult Mr. Marshall’s ‘Topographical and Statistical Details of the Metropolis;’ a small and cheap work, which contains a great deal of valuable information. Mr. Marshall has also recently published a more elaborate work, in quarto, entitled, ‘Statistics, Mortality, &c. &c. of the Metropolis.’ To both these publications we are indebted for some of the materials of the statements in these ‘Statistical Notes.’
[To be continued.]
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SINGULAR ESCAPE.
The following curious anecdote is taken from Archdeacon Coxe’s Historical Tour in Monmouthshire, vol. i., p. 101-2:--“The frame of the wooden bridge over the Usk, at Caerleon, is not unlike the carpentry of Cæsar’s bridge over the Rhine, as described by him in his Commentaries. The floor, supported by ten lofty piers, is level, and divided by posts and rails into rooms or beds of boards, each twelve feet in length; the apparently loose and disjointed state of the planks, and the clattering noise which they make under the pressure of a heavy weight, have not unfrequently occasioned alarm to those who are unused to them. Some travellers, from a superficial view of the structure, have asserted that the planks are placed loose, to admit the tide through their interstices when it rises above the bridge, and which would, if they were fixed, force them from the frame, and carry them away. But, in fact, the tide has never been known to rise above the bridge, nor was the flooring constructed to obviate this inconvenience. Formerly the planks were fastened to each extremity by iron nails; but the wood being liable to split, and the nails frequently forced up by the elastic agitation of the beams under the pressure of heavy carriages, the planks were secured from rising by horizontal rails, fastened to the posts, and prevented from slipping side-ways by a peg at each end within the rail.
“The height of the water, at extraordinary tides, exceeds thirty feet; but though it has never risen above the floor, yet the united body of a high tide, and the floods to which the Usk is subject, have been known to carry away parts of the bridge. An accident of this kind, which happened on the 29th of October, 1772, occasioned a singular event, to which I should not have given credit, had it not been authenticated by the most respectable testimony.
“As Mrs. Williams, wife of Mr. Edward Williams, brazier, was returning from the village on the other side of the bridge to the town of Caerleon, at eleven o’clock at night, with a candle and lantern, the violence of the current forced away four piers and a considerable part of the bridge. On a fragment of this mass, consisting of an entire _room_, with the beams, posts, and flooring, she was hurried down the river; but preserved sufficient presence of mind to support herself by the railing. After having been carried down about a mile and a half the candle was extinguished: on passing some houses at St. Julian’s, near the river-side, she screamed for help, and was heard by several persons, who started out of their beds to assist her; but the violence of the stream had already hurried her beyond their reach. During this time she felt but little apprehension, as she entertained hopes of being delivered by the boatmen at Newport; her expectations were increased by the numerous lights which she discerned in the houses, and she accordingly redoubled her cries for assistance, though without effect. On arriving at Newport, which is more than three miles from Caerleon, the fragment on which she stood being broken to pieces against a pier of the bridge, she fortunately bestrode a beam, and, after being detained for some minutes by the eddies at the bridge, was rapidly hurried along towards the sea. In this perilous situation she at length gave up all hope of deliverance, and resigned herself to her approaching fate.
“About a mile from Newport she discerned a glimmering light, in a barge which was moored near the shore, and, redoubling her cries, was heard by the master of the vessel. After hailing her, and learning her situation, he cried out, ‘Keep up your spirits, and you will be soon out of danger;’ then leaping into the boat with one of his men, rowed towards the place from whence the screams proceeded; but some time elapsed before he overtook her, at a considerable distance from the anchorage of the barge. The night was so dark that they could not discern each other, and the surf swelling violently, the master repeated his exhortations, charged her to be calm, and not attempt to quit her station. Fortunately, a sudden dispersion of the clouds enabled him to lash the beam fore and aft to the boat. At this moment, however, her presence of mind forsook her, and eagerly attempting to throw herself forward, she was checked by the oaths of the seamen, who were at length enabled to heave her into the boat, but could not disengage themselves from the beam till they almost reached the mouth of the Usk. This being effected, not without great difficulty, they rowed to the shore, and embayed themselves till the first dawn of the morning, when they conveyed her in the boat to Newport.”
Mr. Coxe gives the names of several respectable persons residing in the neighbourhood, who expressly confirmed to his satisfaction the truth of this narrative: he especially refers to a clergyman, to whom Mrs. Williams often repeated the story, and confirmed it on her death-bed with the most solemn asseverations.
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_Disturbed Times unfavourable to Lawyers._--In Stow’s Chronicles, p. 631, the following lively picture is drawn of the state of the courts of law during the performance of the tragedies of religious persecution and tyranny under Queen Mary in 1557:--“This yeere, in Michaelmas terme, men might have seen in Westminster Hall, at the King’s Bench bar, not two men of law before the justices. There was one named Fostar, who looked about, and had nothing to do; the judges likewise looking about them. In the Common Pleas no more serjeants but one, which was Serjeant Benlowes, who looked about him: there was elbow-room enough; which made the lawyers to complain of their injuries in that terme.”
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As the Italian poet, Tasso, whose misfortunes were as great as his genius, was on one of his journeys between Rome and Naples, he fell into the hands of banditti, who immediately proceeded to plunder him and his fellow-travellers. But no sooner did the captain of the band, the celebrated Marco Sciarra, of Abruzzi, hear the poet pronounce his name, than, with tokens of admiration and respect, he set him at liberty; nor would he even permit his followers to plunder Tasso’s companions. A prince of royal or imperial birth confined the poet in a mad-house for more than seven years; the great and wealthy left him to a precarious life, which was often a life of absolute want; the servile men of letters of the day loaded him with abusive and most unjust criticism; but a mountain robber, by the road’s side, controlled in his favour the very instinct of his gang, and kissed the hand of the author of the ‘Gerusalemme!’
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Parini, a native of Milan, was not only one of the first poets of modern Italy, but a dignified, philanthropic, and most amiable man. When the government of his country was changed, and a republic first instituted under the protection of the French arms, Milan became the scene of very natural excitement, and occasionally of violence. The people had been too long deprived of liberty to be able to bear their new condition with moderation. Things even went so far that a young and beautiful girl was seen to ascend the republican tribune, and to promise her virgin-love to the man who should bring in the head of that foe to liberty--the poor old Pope; and the father of this virago was seen to embrace her with transport and tears excited by this _heroic virtue_! It was at this time that some violent demagogue tried to force Parini, one night at the theatre, to join the mob in crying “death to the aristocrats!” “Long live the Republic,” exclaimed the poet. “Life to the Republic, but death to no one!” In an instant tranquillity was restored.
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A Savoyard got his livelihood by exhibiting a monkey and a bear. He gained so much applause from his tricks with the monkey, that he was encouraged to practise some of them upon the bear: he was dreadfully lacerated, and on being rescued, with great difficulty, from the gripe of Bruin, he exclaimed: “What a fool was I, not to distinguish between a monkey and a bear! A bear, my friends, is a very grave kind of personage, and, as you plainly see, does not understand a joke.”
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Evelyn truly remarked, that all is vanity which is not honest, and there is no solid wisdom but in real piety.
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THE BRITISH MUSEUM.--No. 3.
OBELISKS.
[Illustration: Two broken obelisks, covered in hieroglyphics.]
An obelisk is a single block of stone with four faces, which are not quite perpendicular, but inclined a little, each towards the opposite face, so that the width of each side gradually diminishes to the top of the shaft, which is crowned with a pyramid. There are two small obelisks of basalt in the British Museum, numbered 70 and 5. They are entire from the base upwards, but the upper part, together with the little pyramid at the top, is broken off. Both of them were brought from Grand Cairo in Egypt, where they were first taken possession of by the French, but they afterwards came into the hands of the English when the French army capitulated at Alexandria in 1801, and quitted the country.