Konrad Gesner and the Jenny Hanivers

Or Wishful Thinking, Mythological Science and Easy Money

The other day, as I was reading Mortal Engines by Philip Reeve, something stuck in my mind – the name of Anna Fang’s airship, the Jenny Haniver.

Naturally, something stuck in one’s mind requires prompt investigation, and a short detour via Wikipedia yielded this: “A Jenny Haniver is the carcass of a ray or a skate which has been modified and subsequently dried, resulting in a grotesque preserved specimen.”

Well, thought I, if ever I needed yet another excuse to get totally side-tracked, this is an opportunity not to be missed.

So I did.

There isn’t any agreement as to the origins of the name itself, but the creatures themselves are first mentioned by the Swiss naturalist Konrad Gesner in his hefty “Historiae animalium”, published in Zurich first in Latin between 1551 and 1558, with a German edition appearing in 1589. Gesner, whose ambitious project included unicorns (in all fairness, he put in a rhinoceros too), satyrs and sea monsters, nevertheless remained critical of Jenny Hanivers, proclaiming them to be fakes manufactured to fool the gullible. He pinpointed Venice as a centre of production.

Gesner was born in Zurich on March 26, 1516. He studied in Strasbourg and Bourges, then returned to Switzerland, studying in Basel and obtaining a professorship in Greek at the university of Lausanne in 1536. In 1540, he visited Montpelier, and eventually settled in his native Zurich to teach at the Carolinium (which was later to become the university), where he devoted much of his time to the preparation and publication of encyclopaedic works. He died during an outbreak of the plague on December 13th, 1565.

The “Historiae animalium” appeared in 4 volumes (quadrupeds, birds, fishes; a fifth on snakes being added posthumously in 1587).  Gesner’s work is widely considered as being the first modern encyclopedia of zoology. It was very much an age of encyclopedias, driven by a desire to classify everything on the face of the Earth. Cartographers like Ortelius and Mercator were busily attempting to map the world. Astronomers, astrologers, alchemists and charlatans stared at the heavens, sought to transmute matter, and flocked to the courts of munificent monarchs throughout Europe. Those with the means constituted “cabinets of curiosities” or wunderkammers, crammed from floor to ceiling with curious and exotic objects – the first museums, though they were not yet public.(1)

As early as the first half of the 16th century, a prosperous port like Antwerp might have over two thousand ships josting for berths, with up to 500 vessels coming and going in a single day. With the Portuguese having opened the sea route to the Indies, Venice and other Italian city-states saw their considerable influence as the mandatory points of entry for goods coming overland by various routes from the East much reduced. Ports on the northern coasts of Europe began to fill with ships of every size hailing from every destination, both east and west. Spain and Portugal were scrapping over the riches of the New World. As foreign goods came back in ever-increasing quantities in the holds ever-more-enterprising merchants, who were rapidly partitioning the globe into rival markets and monopolies, the general public discovered an appetite for things from over the horizon, not only through accounts and engravings, but within arm’s reach, happily parting with a few pennies to go and gawk at marvels and wonders brought back from the nether side of the globe. Europeans developed a pronounced fancy for news and curiosities from a world whose horizons were expanding like never before.

Of course, mermaids and other fantastical sea creatures have a long and colourful history. (Mermaids are more popular that their male counterparts, likely because the marine is largely a masculine domain – it would certainly require a good number of months at sea and some pretty heartfelt longings for a glimpse of a dugong or a manatee to resemble Daryl Hannah in a fishtail suit…) There are too many legends to attempt to list them here, the nautical cousins of Mélusina are present in most cultures. Atargatis, Derketo and Triton; sirens, oceanids, nereids, syrenka, undines, selkies, ruslakas and merrows, ningyo, sirena and siyokoy; no sea or ocean is without them.

The medieval world was largely conceived as possessing a certain symmetry. Since God had made a continent in the northern hemisphere, he would naturally, in the interests of a nicely balanced composition, have made one on the south – the Terra Australis that figured on so many maps before Antarctica was finally glimpsed. If there were men and women on the land, then their counterparts must also dwell in the sea. After all, there are sea-horses, sea-serpents, sea-lions and sea-unicorns, so why not mermiads and men, and even sea monks and sea bishops? The latter are both are pictured in Konrad Gesner’s opus.

 

From Konrad Gessner’s “Historiae animalium”, (German edition): Sea monk, sea bishop, mermaid, merman and hydra.

Johannes Sluperji also mentions a sea bishop, “taken in Polonia in 1531”, in a volume entitled “Omnium Fere Gentium nostraeque aetatis Nationum Habitus et Effigies” published in Antwerp in 1572. He asserts that “bishops are not confined to land alone, but that the sea has the full advantage of their presence; and that though they may not speak, they wear a mitre.” This creature was brought before the king, “and after a while seemed very much to express to him, that his mind was to return to his own element again: which, the king perceiving, commanded that it should be so; and the bishop was carried back to the sea, and cast himself into it immediately.” A “sea monk” is also mentioned:

“La Mer poissons en abondance apporte,
Par dons devins que devous estimer.
Mais fert estrange est le Moyne de Mer,
Qui est ains’e que ce pourtrait le porte.”

(An abundance of fishes inhabit the sea
So many but God in his wisdom knows.
But strange indeed is the monk of the sea
As this likeness hereby convincingly shows.)

 

Left: A selection of mermaids and mermen from various sources.
Left: Title page from “Sea Dragons”, published in Hamburg in 1693
Centre: An “ichthyocentaur” or “sea satyr”, from Konrad Gesner’s “Icones animalium”, 1553.
Right: A rather charming couple of mer-people.

Right: A selection of sea monks and sea bishops from various publications.
A. Gesner’s Sea-monk
B. Sea Monks or monk-fish were described in the 16th century by French naturalists Guillaume Rondelet and Pierre Belon. Belon published two works on “fishes”: “L’histoire naturelle des estranges poissons marins, avec la vraie peincture et description du daulphin, et de plusieurs autres de son espèce” (1551) and “La Nature et diversité des poissons, avec leurs pourtraicts représentez au plus près du naturel” (1555). In 1854, naturalist Japetus Steenstrup, gave a presentation in which he compared Rondelet’s monk (left) and Belon’s (right), as well as Gesner’s description, to the likeness of a squid captured in 1853. Steenstrup’s commentary: “Could we, given these bits of information of how the Monk was conceived at that time, come so near to it that we could recognize to which of nature’s creatures it should most probably be assigned? The Sea Monk is firstly a cephalopod.”
C. A relatively benevolent-looking sea bishop caught in the Baltic Sea in 1531. From “Specula physico- mathematico-historica notabilium ac mirabilium sciendorum” by Johann Zahn. published 1696 at Augsburg, Germany. The caption reads: “Vir marinus episcopi specie An: 1531 captus im mari Baltico.”
D. Another sea bishop, probaly copied from Sluperji.
E. Gesner’s Sea Bishop
F.  The Sea Bishop, from ‘Omnium fere gentium’ by Jean Sluperji, Antwerp, 1572.
Similar creatures are also depicted by Gaspar Schott, who was first a student of and then assistant to the geat polymath Athanasius Kircher. Besides editing and defending Kircher’s works, Schott published “Physica Curiosa” in 1662, reproducing sea monks and bishops as well as mermen and maids.
G. Another sea bishop, from the works of Ambrose Pare, translated from latin. London, Coates & Young, 1634

It must be kept in mind that copying from an older (or preferrably ancient) source was considered a gauge of authenticity, as was quoting the Ancients, even if it was to cautiously disagree with them. Thus many woodcuts resemble others, copied, mirriored or adapted. While this makes trying to figure out which came first and from where an interesting occupation, it does bear witness to a certain “persistence of vision”, even of creatures fantastical to our eyes. Equally, sea horses continue to be depicted along with seahorses (amusingly classified as marine insects during the Renaissance), as unicorns happily share pages with rhinocerii. The unknown possesses an ever-changing geography, and is always teeming with wildlife.

 

Five pages from Guillaume Rondelet, “Histoire entière des poissons”, published in 1558 by Mace Bonhome, Lyon. The preface states that the work was originally written in Latin by the author, and has been translated by him into French “without omitting anything necessary to its understanding”.

Left: Of the Leonine Monster
Chapter XV
The creature here portrayed is a well-formed [terrestrial] creature and has no parts suitable for swimming, for which reason I’ve often doubted it was a sea monster. But I’ve been assured in Rome that such a monster was captured from the sea shortly before the death of Pope Paul III, and it is with this assurance that I hereby show it portrayed. It was the size and aspect of a Lion, with four well-formed feet with no skin between the toes like with the Beaver or the River Duck, but perfectly formed with claws, a long tail with hair on the end, large ears and scales covering the whole body. It didn’t live long outside of its natural habitat. Although I hold this description from knowledgeable people of good faith, I suspect the painter has added details of his own, and removed some natural features.

Centre: Page 361
Thus, the legs are longer than those of marine animals and he might have omitted the webs between the toes. The long ears are unnatural to aquatic animals; there are scales where there should be a rough and rude skin like that covering the feet and wings of Sea Turtles, for all creatures that breath with lungs and are bolstered by bones have no scales. With many other sea monsters and creatures, painters add or subtract at their guise, as can be seen with the Whales painted on the septentrional charts, and on the Cosmography of Munster, as can also be seen with the Shark, the Orc, the Beluga, the Sea Serpent, and others.

Of the Marine Monster in Monk’s Habits
Chapter XVI

Page 362

In our time, in Norway, a sea monster was captured, after a great storm, and all those who beheld the creature immediately gave it the name of Sea Monk, for it had the face of a man, albeit rustic and unsightly, with a smooth and hairless skull; it had something akin to a monk’s hood on its shoulders, two long fins instead of arms, and the end of the body taking the form of a wide tail. The portrait from which the present is drawn was given to me by the most illustrious Margaret of Valois, Queen of Navarre, which was given to her by a gentleman who was bringing a similar one to Emperor Charles V, who was in Spain at the time. This gentleman claimed that the portrait was a true likeness of the creature, which he himself had seen in Norway, cast upon the beach by rough seas at a place called Dieze, near a city named Denelopoch. I have seen a similar portrait in Rome, which differed in no detail from mine. Among marine creatures, Pliny mentions the Merman and the Tritone as veridical. Pausani has also made mention of the Tritons.

Of the Marine Monster in Bishop’s Habits

Right: Page 363
Chapter XVII

I have seen in Rome the portrait of another sea monster, along with letters affirming that, in the year 1531, this monster in bishop’s habits had been seen as it is here portrayed, captured in Poland and brought to its king, whereupon it made signs that it greatly desired to return to the sea, where it was taken back and into which it leaped immediately.

Of Naiads
Chapter XVIII

The poets sham there exist naiads, daughters of Nereus and Doris, but Pliny actually considers this is no fable. They have, he says, the body covered in scales and a human face. They have been seen on the beach in bygone days; the wails of a dying one were heard. It is rumoured one has been seen in Pomerania, in the city of Edam, with the face of a woman and subject to much bawdiness. I have heard, but cannot testify, that a Spanish mariner once fed one aboard a ship, which eventually threw itself into the sea and was never seen again.

Of Many Other Sea Creatures
Chapter XIX
There are several other sea beasts unknown to us, if not by name, such as Rams, Elephants, Panthers, Tunas (Dolphins?), Hyenas, Rays, Crabs and an infinity of others. In the first book, Oppian puts the Ram among the Carnivorous, and those of high sea in the fifth, among the Cetaceans. Pliny writes that during the time of Emperor Tiberius, the Ocean sea drawing back left stranded on the shore more than three hundred sea creatures of wonderful variety and size, on the coast of Saintonge. Amongst others, Elephants, Rams and several Naiads. Aelianus and Oppianus have made mention of the Panther, of Tunas (Dolphins?), and of Hyeans. Pliny places the Ray amongst the largest of sea creatures. It has four arms like four spokes, two eyes that occupy all the middle, one on the near side and one on the far side. Paolo Giovio has spoken of a Ray seen by the Portuguese off the tip of Ethiopia. It carried on its back two Rays, each one with wings like the sails of a windmill. Pliny places Crabs amongst the sea creatures, and the Squid amongst the largest beasts of the Ocean.test (2)

And of course, eyewitness reports were never in short supply.

Around 390 (or possibly 558), a mermaid named Liban was caught in Belfast Lough in Northern Ireland. According to the story,  she was an orphan whose family died in a flood in the year 90. Swept into the sea with her dog, she survived for a year beneath the waves, and slowly transformed into a mermaid, (her dog became an otter) and spent the next three centuries happily there, before she gave herself away by singing beneath the waves. A ship destined for Rome, having overheard her melodious singing, sent out a boat and captured her in a net. She pleaded with the cleric Beoc, a vicar of Bishop St. Comgall of Bangor, who was on board, to take her ashore at Inver Ollarba up the coast. On his return from Rome, after reporting to Pope Gregory of Comgall’s deeds in office, he fulfilled his promise and Liban was taken ashore in a boat. They called her Murgen, or “sea born,” and displayed her in a tank of water for everyone to see. She was baptized, and when she died, became known as St. Murgen of Inver Ollarba, the only mermaid to become a saint. (In all fairness, sainthood was an affair of the popular fervor at the time, as attests the story of Saint Guinefort of Sandrans, who was… a greyhound.)

A mermaid was captured at Edam in Holland in 1403, when the dykes gave way, flooding the land. Swimming in on the tide, she was stranded and captured. She was kept in Harlem for 15 years, and though she learned to kneel in front of a crucifix, she never spoke. Describing this event in his Speculum Mundi (1635), English minister John Swan wrote: “She suffered herself to be clothed and fed…she learned to spin and perform other petty offices of women…she would kneel down with her [mistress] before the crucifix, she never spake, but lived dumb and continued alive (as some say) fifteen years.” At any rate, in a Dutch zoological tract dated 1718, existence of the “zee wyf” is a well-documented fact.

Christopher Columbus, on his first voyage, on January 4, 1493, saw “three sirens that rose high out of the sea, but were not as beautiful as they are represented, although to some extent they have a human appearance in the face….” Columbus also noted that he had seen similar creatures on an earlier voyage, off the coast of Guinea, West Africa. (If Columbus maintained many illusions about his discoveries, mermaids were clearly not a part of them.) A sea creature captured in the Adriatic in 1523 and taken to Rome was described as “like to a man even to the navel, except the ears; in the other parts it ressembled a fish”. A bishop-fish was reported on the Baltic coast of Poland in 1531. In 1560, seven mermaids and mermen were captured off the island of Ceylon. (The Greek traveller Megasthenes mentions mermaids already in Ceylon in the 4th century B.C.) Even Henry Hudson recounts seeing a mermaid off the coast of Novaya Zemlya on June 15, 1608. “From the navel upward, her back and breasts were like a woman’s… her body as big as one of us; her skin very white; and long hair hanging down behind, of color black; in her going down they saw her tail, which was like the tail of a porpoise, and speckled like a mackerel.”

The famous “Mermaid of Ambon”, 59 inches long and uttering cries akin to those of a mouse, lived for 4 days and 7 hours in a vat of sea water after its capture in 1717. In 1752, Eric Pontopiddan, Bishop of Bergen in Norway, stoutly maintained the existence of kraken, sea-serpents and mermaids. A mermaid washed ashore dead in the Outer Hebrides around the year 1830. The British folklorist Alexander Carmichael heard this story, he reported, from “persons still living who saw and touched this curious creature.” In Carmina Gadelica (1900) he recounts: “The upper part of the creature was about the size of a well-fed child of three or four years of age, with an abnormally developed breast. The hair was long, dark and glossy, while the skin was white, soft and tender. The lower part of the body was like a salmon, but without scales.” One wonders what the fishermen and townspeople really saw. The bailiff ordered that the remains be given a Christian burial in a coffin, above the beach.

 

Left: The Mermaid of Ambon, discovered off the shores of Australia, from “Poissons, ecrevisses et crabes de diverses couleurs et figures extraordinaires, que l’on trouve autour des Isles Moluques …”, published in 1718 by Louis Renard, Amsterdam.
Right: A mermaid from a volume entitled “Istorica descrizione de tre regni Congo, Matamba et Angola”, written by Giovanni Antonio Cavazzi (d. Genoa, 1692), published in Bologna in 1687. Cavazzi was a Capuchin friar and missionary, who combined a keen sense of observation with his missionary zeal. He spent many years in Africa in the 1650’s.
And, naturally, where there is a public and its money (the twain easily parted), there were many artisans happy to oblige… During the 1500’s and 1600’s, there was a tremendous demand for monsters.

 

Gesner’s Basilisk, the first known representation of a Jenny Haniver

Here is what Gesner had to say about them:

This one has been portrayed in Venice, also: the body is of ashen colour/
with brown spots: on the outside around the body/ light reddish. I think
they are akin to Stingrays/ even though they are not at all similar to anything else.

The apothecaries and va-
gabonds sculpt
the bodies of the rays
in various forms of their own
pleasing by cutting/ bending/
splitting into the forms of Snakes/
Basilisks and Dragons.
One of these forms is
depicted here/ so these
frauds and swindles
shall be found out. I have seen
a vagabond here/ who has
shown such a form pretending
it was a Basilisk/ but it was all
made of a ray.

Of the nature and attributes
of these animals

These fish usually
live in shallow places
not far from land/ they
swim on the flat side
of their bodies/ are slow
and lazy when swimming/
they are flesh-eating/ living off
smaller fish: they reproduce
in a similar way to other fish: similar
in fertility to chickens. Because
even when they don’t reproduce/
they have one or two bad eggs
at the end of their intestines/
of the female one is depicted here/
they have a countless number
of small eggs in the upper part
of the reproductive organs/ which
will form in time to full size/
one after the other/
as is the same with hens.test (3)
(From the German edition of the first 4 volumes, entitled “Thierbuch”, Zurich, 1563)

Prudently enough, Gesner doesn’t deny the existence of Basilisks, he simply denounces fraudsters who are attempting to foist fake ones on credulous customers.

 

Three Jenny Hanivers from Ulisse Aldrovandi’s “De piscibus libri V. et de cetis lib. unus.”, published in 1613. He notes that two of these “dragons” are “cut and fashioned from rays”. The other is labelled as a monstrous flying fish, and may well be a real creature, albeit somewhat liberally reproduced or copied from another source. Aldrovandi (Bologna, Sept. 11, 1522 – Bologna, May 4, 1605) was a botantist and zoologist, who possesed a grand cabinet of curiosities; 18,000 items at the end of his life. His book of fishes, while depicting many exotic creatures with great accuracy, also contains a few sea monsters that are purely fantastical.

 

Continuatio title page and another Jenny Haniver from a catalgue of the wunderkammer of the brothers Besler, of Nuremberg. From “Rariora Musei Besleriani quæ olim Basilius et Michael Rupertus Besleri collegerunt, æneisque tabulis ad vivum incisa evulgarunt: nunc commentariolo illustrata a Johanne Henrico Lochnero … denuo luci publicæ commisit et laudationem ejus funebrem adjecit … Michael Fridericus Lochnerus.”, originally published in 1716 by J. H. Lochner von Hummelstein.

Japan also produced Jenny Hanivers as early as the 16th century and perhaps long before, usually crafed from the torso of a monkey skillfully sewed onto the tail of a large fish. Japanese mermaids are called ningyo. In 18th and 19th century Japan, carnival sideshows were popular crowd-pleasers.  Along with live acrobats and animals, many featured mermaids as attractions. They were also sold at curio shops in the 19th century.  Many Buddhist temples and Shinto shrines also have ningyo un their collections.

 

 

Ningyo, watercolor on paper by Mototoshi Mori, 1877, from the collection of Tokyo University in Tokyo, Japan.
One story tells of a fake Hydra being shown in Hamburg. The zoologist Linneas remarked that the thing was obviously a fake, made of snakeskin and bird’s feet. The owners were so upset at Linneas raining on their (lucrative) parade that they threatened him with a lawsuit. He left the city. The story is likely untrue.
The Danish physician Thomas Bartholin (October 20, 1616 – December 4, 1680), best known for his work in the discovery of the lymphatic system in humans, exposed a faked basilisk in Copenhagen, remarking that is was not thefirst one he had seen.  “Basilisks” and “mermaids” were popular items in 17th century cabinets of curiosities. Wealthy Veronese apothecry Francesco Calzolari possessed one, described in a 1622 catalogue of his collection as a “monstrous animal… not a Basilisk, nor a Dragon, but made from a Fish called the Ray, by artificial means.”

Another Jenny Haniver figured in the 1716 catalogue “Raroria Musei Basleriani” published by J. H. Lochner von Hummelstein, of the collection of the brothers Besler –  a winged four-legged monster. (A catalogue of the same collection a century earlier, published in 1616, called ‘Fasiculus Rariorum’, which includes about 30 plates by Petrus Iselburg shows a collection of rather more conventional beasts.) The “Traité Général des Pesches, et histoire des Poissons qu’elles fournissent, tant pour la subsistance des hommes, que pour plusieurs autres usages qui ont rapport aux arts et au commerce.”, four volumes published between 1769 and 1782 in Paris by French naturalist Duhamel de Monceau, described another that had been fabricated from a lizard and a ray.

In 1738, the Crown Tavern in London displayed a “mermaid with wings, feet, a tail, fins on the thighs and… a lion’s head. Another toured Britian in 1784, 1796 and 1812.

In 1822, the following story appeared in the Mirror, a widely-read London paper. Forgive me for including the whole of the article, as well as the reply by “Homonculus”. You can skip to the end of the italics if you wish, but it is wonderfully typical of the times and well worth reading through.

“The Mermaid”, The Mirror, Saturday November 9, 1822

This eighth “wonder of the world;” this “frightful monster which the world ne’er saw,” until the present year, is now the great source of attraction in the British metropolis; and three to four hundred people every day pay their shilling each to see a disgusting sort of a compound animal, which contains in itself every thing that is odious and disagreeable. But the curiosity to see a real Mermaid, after all the fictions that have been related respecting it, is natural enough—the only point is, whether it is a real one or not; and even on this professional men disagree.

This singular creature, which it is reported was brought to Batavia, in the East Indies, from some of the neighbouring islands, is in a state of high preservation, and appears to have been so for many years.
It is nearly three feet in length. Its head is nearly round, about the size of that of a child two or three years old—its forehead somewhat depressed, and chin projecting similar to the negro.

Its teeth perfect, and beautifully set in circular rows; but the canine teeth, as they are called, being longer, project much beyond the others. The cheeks of the face project a little, which, together with the eyes, eyebrows, chin, mouth, tongue, ears, throat, &c. exactly resemble those of the human species. Its head is somewhat bent forward. The spinous processes of the cervical and dorsal vertebrae project in that distinct, and regular order, down to the lower part of the breast, that we find in the human subject; when they gradually lose themselves on entering the natural form of the lower portion of the body of a fish. The scapula and arms—the latter of which are of great length—hands, thumbs, fingers, and nails, furnish us with an exact representation of those of a delicate female: the breast bone, clavicles and ribs of the chest are perfectly distinct, and the breasts—which are now of some size, and appear to have been very large—and nipples are a tolerable model of those in the human species. Its body appears to be muscular above the chest, and covered with cuticle and hair, dispersed as in the human skin.

The one side of the head is covered with black human hair, about half an inch or an inch in length; but on the other side it appears to have been much worn or rubbed off.
When examining this singular phenomenon, what excited astonishment was, the external covering from the chest upwards to be such a near representation of that of a human being, whilst the whole of the body below was enveloped with the scaly covering of a fish.

Immediately under the breasts, the fishy form commences, by two large fins on its belly, on which it has been represented by those who have seen it at sea to rest the upper-part of its body above water; it then tapers off and terminates in the tail of a fish, not unlike that of a salmon.
The engraving we give in our present number is a very correct delineation of the appearance of the Mermaid which has been brought from one of the Molucca Islands. But, positive as some persons are, as to its realty being that long-deemed fabulous creature, the Mermaid, we must beg leave to express our doubts—we may say firm conviction—that it is an imposture— certainly not the first that has been practised on the credulity of honest John Bull. The fact is, that the lower part is a real fish, of a species found in the rivers of Chioa and Japan, the head and shoulders being cut off, and replaced by the bust of a baboon. We are confirmed in our opinion of its being an imposture by several of our contemporaries, as well as by the opinions of several professional gentlemen.

 

The engraving that illustrated the newspaper article.

The Editor of the Literary Gazette, in speaking of it, says:

“Our opinion is fixed that it is a composition; a most ingenious one, we grant, but still nothing beyond the admirably put together members of various animals. The extraordinary skill of the Chinese and Japanese in executing such deceptions is notorious, and we have no doubt but that the Mermaid is a manufacture from the Indian Sea, where it has been pretended it was caught. We are not of those who, because they happen not to have had direct proof of the existence of any extraordinary natural phenomenon, push scepticism to the extreme and deny its possibility. The depths of the sea, in all probability, from various chemical and philosophical causes, contain animals unknown to its surface waters, or if ever, rarely seen by human eye. Bat when a creature is presented to us, having no other organization but that which is suitable to a medium always open to our observation, it in the first instance excites suspicion that only one individual of the species should be discovered and obtained. When knowledge was more limited, the stories of Mermaids seen in distant quarters might be credited by the many, and not entirely disbelieved by the few; but now, when European, and especially British, commerce fills every corner of the earth with men of observation and science, the unique becomes the incredible, and we receive with far greater doubt the apparition of such anomalies as the present. It is curious that though medical men seem in general to regard this creature as a possible production of nature, no naturalist of any ability credits it after five minutes observation! This may perhaps be accounted for by their acquaintance with the parts of distinct animals, of which, it appears, the Mermaid is composed. The cheeks of the blue-faced ape, the canine teeth, the simia upper body, and the tail of the fish, are all familiar to them in less complex combinations, and they pronounce at once that the whole is an imposture. And such is our settled conviction.”
A monthly journal, after giving a long account of Mermaids, and referring to an engraving of the one now exhibiting in London, which, we are told, appears in that number, has withdrawn the plate in consequence of a subsequent conviction of the imposture. It is, however, a very ingenious imposture, and therefore is worth seeing on that account.

But while we doubt the reality of the disgusting looking Mermaid (as it is called) now exhibiting, we are compelled to acknowledge that there is a host of evidence in favour of the existence of such a creature, both in ancient and modern times. Pliny says, that “the Ambassadors to Augustus from Gaul declared that sea-women were often seen in their neighbourhood.” Solinus and Aulus Geilius also speak of their existence.
It is related in the Histoire d’Angle-terre, part 1, page 403, that in the year 1187, a Merman was “fished up” in the county of Suffolk, and kept by the governor for six months ; it was exactly like a man in every respect, and wanted nothing but speech. He never could be brought to any understanding of his nature or situation, and at length made his escape, and was seen to plunge into the sea, from whence he returned no more.

In 1430, in the great tempests which destroyed the dykes in Holland, some women at Edam, in West-Freezeland, saw a Mermaid, who had been driven by the waters into the meadows which were overflowed. They took it, and (as it is said,) dressed it in female attire, and taught it to spin. It fed on cooked meat, but all efforts to teach it to speak proved ineffectual, though Parival says, “it had some notion of a deity, and made its reverences very devoutly when it passed a crucifix.” It was taken to Haerlem, where it lived some years, but it ever retained an inclination for the water. At its death it was allowed Christian burial.
In 1560, on the coast of Ceylon, some fishermen caught, at one draught of their Bets, seven Mermen and Mermaids. — They were dissected, and found made exactly like human beings. For a full account of this last circumstance, see the Histoire de la Compagnie de Jesus, part 2d. t. 4. No. 276.

In 1531, a Merman, caught in the Baltic, was sent to Sigismond, king of Poland, with whom, says the account, he lived three days, and was seen by the whole court; but whether he died or escaped at the end of that period, we cannot say. But in some tracts published by John Gregory, A. M. and chaplain of Christ Church, Oxford, in 1650, this identical Merman is described, “as a huge animal of the human form, but very much resembling a bishop in his pontificals.” A German engraving of this being I have seen, it is extremely curious.

Georelius Trapanzantius declares that he himself saw a Mermaid, extremely beautiful, rise many times above water; he adds, that in Epirus, a Merman came on the shore, and watched near a spring of water, endeavouring to catch young women that came there; he was caught, but could not be made to eat.

Maillet, in his Teliamede, speaks of a Merman which was seen by the whole of a French ship’s crew, off Newfoundland, in 1730, for some hours. The account was signed by all the crew that could write, and was sent to the Comte de Maurepas on the 8th September, 1725.
Such are the accounts given by different writers at various periods relative to the Mermaid. In our next we shall give similar evidence of more recent times, reserving for ourselves what we wish all our readers to do, the right to exercise their own private judgment as to its fallacy or truth.

Story continues in The Mirror, SATURDAY, November 16, 1822.

In our last Mirror we gave a very correct engraving and description of the compound animal now exhibiting at the west-end of the town as a Mermaid. We also gave a general history of Mermaids, or of the evidence on which their existence is founded, from an early period down to the commencement of the last century. That history we shall now bring down to the present day.
Valentyn describes a Mermaid he saw in 1714, on his voyage from Batavia to Europe, sitting on the surface of the water, with its back towards them, the body was half above water, and was of a grizzly colour, like the skin of a codfish, it had breasts, and was shaped like a woman above the waist, and from thence downwards ‘went tapering off to a point.
In the year 1758, a Mermaid is said to have been exhibited at the fair of St. Germains, in France. It was about two feet long, very active, sporting about in the vessel of water, in which it was kept, with great agility and seeming delight. It was fed with bread and fish. Its position, when at rest, was always erect. It was a female, with ugly negro features. The skin was harsh, the ears very large, and the back parts and tail were covered with scales. M. Gautier, a celebrated French artist, made an exact drawing of it.
Another Mermaid, which was exhibited in London in 1775 (for the one now shown is neither the first nor the second with which John Bull has been duped), was said to have been taken in the Gulf of Stanchio, in the Archipelago, by a merchantman trading to Natolia, in August, 1774.

Its face, say the accounts of the day, is like that of a young female ; its eyes a fine light blue; its nose small and handsome; its mouth small; its lips thin, and the edges of them round like that of the codfish; its teeth are small, regular, and white; its chin well shaped, and its neck full. Its ears are like those of the eel, but placed like those of the human species, and behind them are the gills for respiration, which appear like curls. Some are said to have hair upon their head; but this has only rolls instead of hair, which, at a distance, might be taken for short curls. But its chief ornament is a beautiful membrane or fin rising from the temples, and gradually diminishing till it ends pyramidically, forming a foretop like a lady’s head-dress. It has no fin on the back, but a bone like that of the human species. Its breasts are fair and full; the arms and hands are well proportioned, but without nails oh the fingers; the belly is round and swelling, but there is no naval. From the waist downwards the body is in all respects like the codfish; it has three sets of fins one above another below the waist, which enable it to swim erect on the sea.
In the year 1794, a Mermaid, as it was called, was shown at No. 7, Broad-court, Bow-street, Covent-garden; it was said to have been taken in the North Seas by Captain Fortier. This nymph of the sea, a woman from the head down to the lower part of the waist, and a fish from thence downwards, was three feet long, having ears, gills, breasts, fins, shoulders, arms, hands, fingers, and a contiguous scale covering the fish part. The existence of this animal is firmly believed in the northern parts of Scotland, and in the year 1797, a school-master of Thurso affirmed, that he had seen one, apparently in the act of combing its hair with its fingers. The portion of the animal which he saw was so near a resemblance to the form of a woman, that but for the impossibility of a female so long supporting herself in the waves, he should have presumed it to have been one. Twelve years afterwards, several persons observed near the same place a like appearance.

The next publication in which we find any account relative to the Mermaid worthy of notice, is Dr. Chisholm’s Essay on the Malignant Fever of the West Indies, published in 1801. The Doctor speaks of it as follows :— ” I probably hazard the implication of credulity by the following note:—In the year 1707, happening to be at Govenor Van Battenburgh’s plantation, in Berbice, the conversation turned on a singular animal which had been repeatedly seen in Berbice river, and some smaller rivers. This animal is the famous Mermaid, hitherto considered as a mere creature of the imagination. It is called by the Indians mene mamma, or mother of the waters. The description given of it by the Governor is as follows:—The upper portion resembles the human figure, the head smaller in proportion, sometimes bare, but oftener covered with a copious quantity of long black hair. The shoulders are broad, and the breasts large and well formed. The lower portion resembles the tail-portion of a fish, is of immense dimension, the tail forked, and not unlike that of the dolphin, as it is usually represented. The colour of the skin is either black or tawny. The animal is held in veneration and dread by the Indians, who imagine that the killing it would be attended with the most calamitous consequences. It is from this circumstance that none of these animals have been shot, and, consequently, not examined but at, a distance. They have been generally observed in a sitting posture in the water, none of the lower extremity being discovered until they are disturbed; when, by plunging, the tail appears, and agitates the water to a considerable distance round. They have been always seen employed in smoothing their hair, or stroking their faces and breasts with their hands, or something resembling hands. In this posture, and thus employed, they have been frequently taken for Indian women bathing.” Mr. Van Battenburgh’s account was much corroborated by that of some gentlemen settled in Mahaycony and Abary.
At Sandside, in the parish of Reay, in the county of Caithness, there was seen, on the 12th of January, 1809, an animal supposed to be the Mermaid, The head and the chest, being all that was visible, is said to have exactly resembled those of a full-grown young woman. The breasts were perfectly formed; the arms longer than in the human body, and the eyes somewhat smaller. When the waves dashed the hair, which was of a sea-green shade, over the face, the hands were immediately employed to replace it. The skin was of a pick colour. Though observed by several persons within the distance of twenty yards, for about an hour and a half, it discovered no symptoms of alarm.

In 1811, a young man, named John M’Isaac, of Corphine, in Kintyre, in Scotland, made oath, on examination, at Cambletown, before the sheriff-substitute of Kintyre, that he saw, on the afternoon of the 13th of October, in that year, on a black-rock on the sea-coast, an animal, of the particulars of which he gives a long and curious detail. He states, that the upper half of it was white, and of the shape of a human body; the other half, towards the tail, of a brindled or reddish-grey colour, apparently covered wish scales; but the extremity of the tail itself was of a greenish-red shining colour; that the head was covered with long hair; at times it would put back the hair on both sides of its head; it would also spread its tail like a fan; and, while so extended, the tail continued in tremulous motion, and, when drawn together again, it remained motionless, and appeared to the deponent to be about twelve or fourteen inches broad ; that the hair was long and light brown ; that the animal was between four and five feet long; that it had a head, hair, arms, and body, down to the middle, like a human being; that the arms were short in proportion to the body, which appeared to be about the thickness of that of a young lad, and tapering gradually to the point of the tail; that when stroking its head, as above mentioned, the fingers were kept close together, so that he cannot say whether they were webbed or not; that he saw it for near two hours, the rock on which it lay being dry; that, after .the sea had so far retired as to leave the rock dry to the height of five feet above the water, it tumbled clumsily into the sea; a minute after he observed the animal above water, and then he saw every feature of its face, having all the appearance of a human being, with very hollow eyes. The cheeks were of the same colour with the rest of the face; the neck seemed short; and it was constantly, with both hands, stroking and washing its breast, which was half immersed in the water; he, therefore, cannot say whether its bosom was formed like a woman’s or not. He saw no other fins or feet upon it, but as described. It continued above water for a few minutes, and then disappeared. The Minister of Campbeltown, and the Chamberlain of Mull, attest his examination, and declare that they know no reason why his veracity should be questioned.
In 1812, Mr. Toupin, of Exmouth, published the following account of his having seen a Mermaid: “The day (August 11),” says he, ” being very fine, I joined a party of ladies and gentlemen in a sailing excursion. When we had got about a mile to the southeast of Exmouth-bar, our attention was suddenly arrested by a very singular noise, by no means unpleasant to the ear, but of which it is impossible to give a correct idea by mere description. It was not, however, unaptly compared by one of our ladies to the wild melodies of the AEolian harp,* combined with a noise similar to that made by a stream of water falling gently on the leaves of a tree. In the mean time we observed something about one hundred yards from us, to windward.  We all imagined it to be some human being, though at the same time we were at a loss to account for this, at such a distance from the shore, and no other boat near. We hailed, but received no reply, and we made toward this creature as soon as possible; when, to the great astonishment of us all, it eluded our pursuit by plunging under water. In a few minutes it rose again, nearly in the same place; and by that time we had got sufficiently near for one of the boatmen to throw into the water a piece of boiled fish, which he had in his locker. This seemed to alarm the animal, though it soon recovered from its fears, for we presently observed it to lay hold of the fish, which it ate with apparent relish. Several other pieces were thrown out, by which the creature was induced to keep at a short distance from our boat, and afforded us the opportunity of observing it with attention, and found, to our astonishment, that it was no other than a Mermaid. As the sea was calm, and in a great degree transparent, every part of the animal’s body became in turn visible. The head, from the crown to the chin, forms rather a long- oval, and the face seems to resemble that of the seal, though, at the same time, it is far more agreeable, possessing a peculiar softness, which renders the whole set of features very interesting. The upper and back part of the head appeared to be furnished with something like hair, and the forepart of the body with something like down, between a very light fawn and a very pale pink colour, which, at a distance, had the appearance of flesh, and may have given rise to the idea that the body of the Mermaid is, externally, like that of the human being. This creature has two arms, each of which terminates into a hand with four fingers, connected to each other by means of a very thin elastic membrane. The animal used its arms with great agility, and its motions in general were very graceful. From the waist it gradually tapered so as to form a tail, which had the appearance of being covered with strong broad polished scales, which occasionally reflected the rays of the sun in a very beautiful manner; and, from the back and upper part of the neck, down to the loins, the body also appeared covered with short round broad feathers, of the colour of the down on the fore-part of the body. The whole length of the animal, from the crown of the head to the extremity of the tail, was supposed to be about five feet, or five feet and a half. In about ten minutes, from the time we approached, the animal gave two or three plunges, in quick succession, as if it were at play. After this, it gave a sudden spring, and swam away from us very rapidly, and in a few seconds we lost sight of it.” It must be in the recollection of most persons, that in the autumn of 1819, a creature appeared on the coast of Ireland, about the size of a child of ten years of age, with a bosom as prominent as a girl of sixteen, having long dark hair, and full dark eyes. We shall not transcribe the account, as it will doubtless be well remembered; but it may be right to add, for the satisfaction of those who have not seen it, that a spectator endeavoured to shoot it, but on the report of the musket, it plunged into the sea, with a loud’ scream. Since this time, we heard nothing of Mermaids until an American Captain and a Bostonian too, Captain Eades, exhibited this wonder of the deep, which is now the wonder of the good people of London, at the Cape of Good Hope. It is said to have been caught on the north coast of China, by a fisherman, who sold it for a trifle, when Captain Eades bought it for 5,000 Spanish dollars. At least so the first account from the Cape stated; but the present possessor of this interesting creature, who certainly believed it to be a real Mermaid, only estimates the whole cost at the Cape and bringing home at 1,000l; so that it is probable Jonathan did not give half the money stated.

Without offering any remarks as to the existence or non-existence of the Mermaid, we may observe, that the question is as far from solution as ever, since it seems to be universally acknowledged, by all persons capable of judging, that the Mermaid now exhibiting is nothing but the head and bust of a baboon joined to the tail of a fish. This circumstance, however, does not appear to affect the exhibition, which continues as crowded as ever.
* Here we have the fiction of the Syrens realized, which none of our Argus-eyed Mermaid hunters had hitherto done. The Syrens, in fabulous history, were certain celebrated song-stresses, who were ranked among the demi-gods of antiquity. Hyginus places their birth among the consequences of the rape of Proserpine. Others make them the daughters of the river Achelous and one of the Muses. The number of the Syrens was three, and their names were Partkenope, Ly-yea, and Leucosia. Some make them half women and half fish; others, half women and half birds. There are antique representations of them still subsisting under both these forms. Pau-sanias tells us that the Syrens, by the persuasion of Juno, challenged the Muses to a trial of skill in singing; and these, having vanquished them, plucked the golden feathers from the wings of the Syrens, and formed them into crowns, with which they adorned their own heads. The Argonauts are said to have been’ diverted from the enchantment of their songs by the superior strains of Orpheus. Ulysses, however, had great difficulty in securing himself from seduction.

A letter in response to the above article, The Mirror, Saturday, November 23, 1822

THE MERMAID.
To the Editor of the Mirror.

I see by the Papers, that the Mermaid, after having escaped the attempts of Collectors, who would have immured her in their Museums; and the barbarity of the Surgeons, who wanted to dissect her, is at last—to use an expression at the sound of which every experienced man’s face instinetively lengthens—” thrown into Chancery.’ Alas! poor Mermaid!

It is to be hoped, that the individual who ran away with this object of universal admiration, was not aware that she was fated to become a Ward of Chancery; for, if he did, he may, according to the doctrines lately promulgated, stand in a very perilous situation. Such protegees are a sort of animal noli-me-tangere; the coming in contact with which draws down on the unhappy adventurer dreadful consequences.

But as this interesting personage is really in this accomplished Court, there is now an excellent opportunity of setting at rest, in an indubitable manner, all the anxieties which have been excited respecting its reality. What think you, Mr. Editor, of a reference to the Master, to inquire, and state to the Court, whether1 the Mermaid be a Mermaid? What an opportunity would here offer for judicial jokes and forensic witticisms! And what a field would be opened for erudite research in the Master’s office! The copyright of the Master’s Report would be a fortune. Or, if this subject should be thought too difficult to be attempted by the “sages of the law,’’ unassisted by other illumination, let an issue be directed, to ascertain the momentous fact in dispute. In such a proceeding, it is obvious that the Jury ought to be awarded de medietate; which, being translated, for the benefit of country gentlemen, into language that is common both to the lawyers’ bar and the publicans’ bar, signifies “half and half.” The combination I would suggest would be, that one half of the Jury should consist of ” matrons,” to afford the means of ascertaining the womanhood of the subject; and the other half chosen from the Master, Wardens, and Court of Assistants of the Worshipful Company of Fishmongers, in order to try its ichthyology.

It is the opinion of Sir Thomas Browne (see his Vulgar Errors, 1. 5, ch. 19,) and of many other authors, that the Syrens, mentioned by Homer in his Odyssey, were no other than Mermaids, if that be so, how great must be the value of the individual, now, alas ! thrown into Chancery ? for, as Homer speaks of them in the dual number, it has been most reasonably argued, that they were but two, end Eustathius gives their two names. The Court of Chancery, then, possesses & Ward, who may be described as presque unique.

Sir Thomas Browne, in the place above cited, says, “No man’s eyes have escaped the picture of a Mermaid.” I cannot deny that my visual organs have encountered this universal exhibition. But I never saw any picture of a Mermaid, which did act represent this enchanting compound with a Mirror (I do not, Mr. Editor, mean a copy of your interesting miscellany, though, from the interest you take in the damsel, your work would, no doubt, be acceptable to English Mermaids,) but a looking-glass in one hand, and a comb in the other. 1 may add, in the only introduction of this bi-formed being which I remember to have witnessed on the stage, in Tom Dibdin’s Harlequin Hoax ; or, A Pantomime Rehearsed, according to my recollection, she appeared with these appropriate ornaments.* But, Sir, the Mermaid in question is, I am shocked to say, de-spoiled of these essential attributes. Now, I would seriously put it to the Chancellor, whether this be not a very alarming circumstance? and I doubt not, that his Lordship will have no doubt, that it ought not to be allowed to grow into a precedent. Think, Mr. Editor, only think, what a dreadful calamity it would be, if all his Lordship’s Wards were to be in like manner deprived of their combs and looking-glasses? Think, Sir, how many angelic faces would—but I cannot proceed with this topic: it is too much for my nerves; and, if pursued, would probably operate too powerfully on the lachrymal sensibility for which his Lordship is so justly celebrated.

But, Sir, I am not without apprehension, that some evil-minded persons, not having the fear of the law before their eyes, but being moved and instigated by the (Printer’s) devil, and being desirous to bring the practice of a most honourable profession into hatred, ridicule, and contempt, and to scandalise the same, may be tempted to convert this matter into an occasion of sneering against the Law.—Some critics, in their labours to explain what was the foundation of the fiction of the Syrens (who, we have already seen, have been identified with Mermaids;, have asserted, that the Syrens were Queens of certain small islands, named Sirenusae, lying near Capree, in Italy, and chiefly inhabited the promontory of Minerva, on the top of which that Goddess had a temple. Here, it is said, there was a renowned academy in the reign of the Syrens, famous for eloquence and the liberal sciences; whence the fable of the sweetness of their voices. But at length, we are told, the students abused their knowledge, to the colouring of wrong, and the corruption of manners; and therefore they were feigned to be transformed into monsters, and with their music to have enticed passengers to their ruin, and the consumption of their patrimonies. Such ill-natured persons may perhaps ask, Whether the temple of Law was not originally the school of eloquence, and the academies of liberal sciences? and whether some modern students there have not abused their knowledge to the colouring of wrong, and the corruption of manners, and enticed clients to their ruin, and the consumption of their patrimonies?

HOMUNCULUS.
London, Nov. 21, 1822.

* Our correspondent is here in error. The Mermaid in Harlequin Hoax has not a looking-glass in her hand when she rises from the ocean, but a glass of gin and water, of which she acknowledges having drank so freely that she is half seas-over.—editor.

 

 

Left: Advertisement for the Feejee Mermaid. (I wasn’t able to find Barnum’s initial pamphlet.)
Right: Engraving of the Feejee Mermaid itself.

Is this the same mermaid exhibited by the famous P. T. Barnum a decade later? It’s very likely.

The mermaid was apparently purchased by one Samuel Barret Eades, an American sea captain, in the East Indies. Eades, who was captain and one-eighth owner of the merchant vessel Pickering, had saved the crew of a sinking Dutch man-o’-war, and put into Batavia, hoping to negotiate a reward from the Dutch authorities. Whie he was there, he found a mermaid. The merchants claimedto have purchased the astonishing creature from Japanes fishermen, who sold it for a good price, being ignorant of its scientitic value. The merchants, however, realized that they had quite a find and demanded the sum of 5,000 Spanish dollars or 1200 English pounds, a considerable sum for the time. Eades, undaunted, sold his ship and cargo for 6,000 dollars (remember he only owned a one-eigth share) purchased the mermaid, dashed off a letter to the ship’s owner and booked passage to London. On a stop in Cape Town, he began exhibing the creature to paying customers, and a certain Dr. Philip, the representative of the London Missioanry Society, penned an enthusiatic report in a letter to the London Philanthropic Gazette, which was reprinted by several newspapers, including Gentleman’s Magazine, before Eades arrived in England. The article begaan “I have today seen a mermaid, now exhibiting in this town. I have always believed that the existence of this creature as fabulous, but my skepticism is now removed.” Philips went on to describe the creature, which he clearly believed genuine. Understandably the ship’s real proprietor, Stephen Ellery, was not only nonplussed at his former captain’s conduct, but justifiably irate. When Eades and his charge arrived in London in September 1822, he attempted to have the mermaid seized at customs, but Eades was able to extricate the mermaid from quarantine and hired the doyen of London anatomists, Sir Everard Home, to examine the creature. Sir Everard was too busy to come, but sent his assisant William Clift in his stead. On September 21st, Clift went to the East India Baggage warehouse, where the mermaid and Eades awaited. He quickly declared it a clever forgery, artfully pieced together from the head on an orangutang, the teeth of a baboon, artificial eyes, and the body of a fish, possibly a salmon. However, since Eades had thoughfully sworn Home and Clift to silence beforehand in exchange for the privilege of examining the creature, he was able to hire rather less expert experts to certify the “Maid of the Ocean” as genuine, advertising in the London papers to find an exhibition hall to show it to the (now eager) public.

The Turf Coffeehouse in Saint James Street fit the bill, and the proprietor, a certain Mr. Watson, agreed to host the phenomenon. (Eades had to agree to pay an extra fee for the wear and tear to the coffeehouse carpets.) Advertisments appeared in all the major newspapers:

THE MERMAID!!!- The wonder of the World, the admiration of all ages, the theme of the Philosopher, the Historian and the Poet. The above surprising natural production may be seen at No. 59, St. James-street, every day, Sundays excepted, from ten in the morning to five in th afternoon. Admittance One Shilling.

“The remarkable stuffed Mermaid” was the biggest sensation in London in the fall of 1822. An article in the October issue of Gentleman’s magazine declared it to be a novel species. Meanwhile Ellery tired to take Eades to court; and the latter threatened to take his mermaid and leave England. In the court procedings that did follow, the lord chancellor decreed that he could not remove or dispose of the mermaid without the court’s permission. In the meantime, shillings spilled in a torrent into the pockets of the exhibitors. Queues contined to form in front of the Turf Coffeehouse, and Eades, overconfident, made a grave error. He advertised in the newspapers and placarded around London a statement to the effect that the much-respected and honourable Sir Everard Home had declared the mermaid to be genuine.

Naturally, Home was incensed, and , feeling he was no longer bound by his oath of discretion, loudly proclaimed it for what it was – a forgery, if a skilled and artful one. Followed an increasingly critical series of articles, ridiculing both the gullible public and those scientists who had vouched for the authenticity of Eade’s mermaid. The tide of opinion turned, the pubic turned to new sensations, and attendance dropped. On January 9th, 1823, the Turf Coffeehouse exhibition was shut down. For several months, the mermaid played second fiddle on a double bill with Toby the Learned Pig at Batholomew Fair. (Well, Toby could count. Incidentally, another Toby the educated Pig was roasted in a fire in the Bowry Museum in New York in June 1897; his owners forgot him while fleeing the flames. The one-armed man, however, escaped.) The mermaid then toured England into 1824, and was back at Bartholomew Fair in 1825, but the public was no longer really interested. The mermaid sunk from view, until it would resurface again, in a spectacular fashion, and with a brand new identity, in 1842.

As for poor Captain Eades, he went to sea again, and for two decades vainly tried to pay off the debt he owed to Ellery. When he died in the 1840’s, the mermaid was inherited by his son Eades Jr, who delighted (and perhaps disgusted) dinner guests with it. (Actually, it was the only thing he inherited from his otherwise destitute father.) Eades would have been well advised to take a leaf fromfellow mariner Ulysses’ book – the calls of sirens are best resisted or ignored.

Others too might have been well inspired to take Eades’ sad example to heart; in the 1830’s, yet another mermaid appeared on display at the Egyptian Hall in London, and was later sold to two well-heeled but gullible Italian brothers for the astonishing sum of 40,000 dollars. They later had a change of heart, and an acrimonious legal battle folllowed, in which they left not only their illusions (the mermaid was revealed as a clever fake during the trial) but their fortunes.

 

Not exactly at all the same, but to show that mermaids would draw a crowd (in all fairness, anything will draw a crowd), this advertisment from a London paper dated October, 1886. The “lovely creature, very beautiful as to her head, with its lovely flowing hair, and very fishy as to her tail” (admission 6d. NO WAITING) is billed as a living mythological mermaid.
I haven’t included any actual photos of real Jenny Hanivers in this newsletter, as they are uniformly hideous and rather distressing, preferring to show period renderings of them. How they pleased even the most lenient and easy-going crowds is beyond me. Typing Jenny Haniver into a search engine will easily bring up as many as you wish. (Nor have I included any modern hoaxes, as they are uniformly unimaginative and equally hideous.) Also worthwhile mentioning is sirenomelia, a congenital deformity (happily very rare) which results in fused legs at birth. The newborns resemble mermaids; they usually do not survive.

In mid-July, 1842, New York, a certain Doctor J. Griffin, honorable member of the British Lyceum of Natural History prepared to meet the press. Said press had been primed for the occasion – letters from South Pacific correspondants had announced a remarkable discovery made by the good doctor: a mermaid, no less. Griffin received them in his hotel room, and soon enthusiastic articles about the creature appeared in the local newspapers.

Shortly after, P. T. Barnum begged the newspapers’ help in convincing Dr. Griffin to allow him to display the creature in his museum, but the good doctor was reluctant. Barnum thoughtfully provided a woodcut of an alluring mermaid, claiming that since the Doctor could not be swayed, it wasn’t of any use to him any more and they might as well have his copies. All the papers ran it in their Sunday edition of July 17th. Simultaneously, Barnum distributed ten thousand pamphlets about the history (and probable existence) of mermaids.
By popular demand, Griffin relented, and the creature was put on show in a concert hall on Broadway “for positively one week only!”. “Mermaid fever ” prompted huge crowds to see it, at 25 cents entry fee. One wonders what they thought.

In Barnum’s own words, it was an “ugly, dried-up, black-looking specimen about three feet long . . . that looked like it had died in great agony.” According to the New York Sun of August 5th, 1842: “We’ve seen it! What? Why that Mermaid! The mischief you have! Where? What is it? It’s twin sister to the deucedest looking thing imaginable—half fish, half flesh; and ‘taken by and large,‘ the most odd of all oddities earth or sea has ever produced.“

Newspaper ads, on the other hand, promised a rather more alluring creature. (They remind me very much of the ads for “Sea Monkeys” when I was a kid – the happy Sea Monkey family advertised bears a rather faint resemblance indeed to the actual creatures. There must be a parable in there somewhere – something about what you see never quite being what you get…)

 

I never actually ordered Sea Monkeys, but comic books were the last bastion of con artists in the ‘60’s and ‘70’s. I think most kids secretly wanted to order the X-ray specs, itching powder or a woopie cushion, but I never did. The closest I came was drawing Winky.

After a week at the concert hall, Griffin agreed to let Barnum exhibit the creature at Barnum’s American Museum for a month, thereby tripling the receipts. Afterwards, the mermaid toured America for the next two decades, drawing substantial queues of gawkers wherever it went and triggering at least one bitter dispute between believers and detractors. While some swallowed the bait whole, so to speak, others were rather more lucid. As the Charleston Courier put it: “Of one allusion… the sight of the wonder has forever robbed us — we shall never again discourse, even in poesy, of mermaid beauty, nor woo a mermaid even in our dreams — for the Feejee lady is the very incarnation of ugliness.“

As it turns out, Doctor Griffin was actually a certain Levi Lyman, an associate of Barnum’s. The British Lyceum of Natural History did not exist, and of course, the mermaid was a Jenny Haniver. Barnum had leased it from another colleague, Boston showman Moses Kimball, had apparently acquired it from a seaman. (On June 18, Barnum and Kimball entered into a written agreement to exploit this “curiosity supposed to be a mermaid.” Kimball would remain the creature’s sole owner and Barnum would lease it for $12.50 a week.) The story told by Kimball indicates that it is very likely Eades’ mermaid.

The mermaid eventually returned to London, to a museum owned by Kimball. It is there that it probably perished when the museum burnt down in the early 1880’s.

What the connection with Gessner? Well, besides he fact that it makes a catchy title, the age in which he lived marks the genesis of the reduction of myth through science, in the same way that the lithe and marvellous mermaid of legend becomes a hideous freak show exhibit, the inexhorable decline of mermaids as the encyclopaedists attempt to reconcile their existence with the “evidence”. In the same manner that the early European explorers deplored the relative homeliness and coarse silhouettes of unicorns when they sighted rhinos in Asia, without questioning the actual existence of unicorns. The first scientific minds did their best to reconcile legend with biology, in the same way that the discoverers of the first dinosaur fossils tried to make these hitherto unheard-of creatures fit with Noah’s Flood.

 

A selection of fantastical sea creatures from Aldrovandi’s “Monstrorum historia”, published in 1642.

The need to see with one’s own eyes, even if the vision is a deception (a double deception, moreover) also typefies a worldview we have inherited, where our mastery of travel and distance kindles the desire to see firsthand. Urbanization also means crowds, crowds with pocket money, thus a market once demand needs satisfying. Mermaids don’t exist? No matter. We can have one ready for you next week! People will line up in the street.

The result is twofold – a dessication of the myth, via the hideous and dried monsters in travelling freak shows, and a growing animality coupled with an abandonment of true illusion in all graphic representations. Ultimately, the Jenny Hanivers themselves rejoin the dusty shelves of museum attics. They are an inadequate response to a legitimate desire, to have “wonders” and “marvels” inhabit the imagination. Placing these wonders and marvels within arm’s reach ultimately begs the question of the validity of human judgement in the face of the intangible nature of myth.

Happily, this hybrid birth and dismal decline of the scientific “merveilleux”, the attempt to put myth and legend into glass-fronted cases, liberates the imagination once again, proving beyond all doubt that the two are not reconcilable. Barnum and Andersen are not of the same world, mermaids shy away from the big top and the dissecting table, and all the wishful cryptozoology in the world is doomed to ultimate failure. How strange that we cannot ever seem to properly separate the two. As if we could somehow re-experience childhood as adults, grasping at the magic with rationality and experience is grasping at straws. Making things “real” doesn’t mean making them real.

As for the name Jenny Haniver, no one has ever come up with a satisfying origin. The suggestion that the term was “Cockney-fied” from “jeune fille d’Anvers” because Antwerp was reputedly a place where fake creatures were produced smacks of retro-etymology by alliteration and is not very convincing. According to Willy Ley, in his book “The Lungfish, the Dodo and the Unicorn”,  Dr. E. W. Gudger of the American Museum of natural History in New York and Dr. Gilbert P. Whitley of the Australian Museum in Sydney “have tried their very best to trace the origin of the term but have failed.” (Actually, Ley’s book attempts to conjure up some convincing sources for many mythological creatures, including, for example, a hardy species of dinosaur for the dragon motifs of the Ishtar Gate. But, while he too tries his very best, it doesn’t accomplish more than to sound faintly avuncular, like the lost uncle who returns with stories of sea serpents and sirens.) Another suggestion is a combination of Genoa (Jenny in nautical slang) and Antwerp.

But then, mermaids and basilisks have always been mysterious creatures, so some poetic justice must be involved.

Lastly, since this is an illustrator’s newsletter, I can’t resist closing with a gallery of romantic mermaids…

 

A gallery of turn-of-the-century mermaids
A. “Mermaids”, Gustave Klimt, 1886.
B. “The Mermaid”, Howard Pyle, 1910.
C. “The Fisherman and the Syren”, Frederick Lord Leighton, c. 1856-1858.
D. “The Mermaid”, John William Waterhouse, 1901.
E.  “The Siren”, John William Waterhouse, 1900.
F. “Calm Sea”, Arnold Böcklin, 1887.
G. “The Bright Liquid”, from “The Little Mermaid”, Edmund Dulac, 1911.
H. “The Merman King”, from “The Little Mermaid”, Edmund Dulac, 1911.
I. The Mermaid, Warwick Gable.
J. Ulysses and the Sirens, Hubert James Draper, 1909.
K. The Land Baby, John Collier, 1899.
L. The Depth of Sea, Edward Burne-Jones, 1887.
M. The Fisherman and the Siren, Knut Ekwall (1843-1912).

1. This is most definitely a fine subject for another side-tracked newsletter. Watch this space.

2. Thanks to forum members Tobi Putzo, Becky Carter-Hitchin and especially Matthew Shelton, whose efforts at tracking down the Latin and Greek sources were little short of Herculean, for their help in cornering many pesky and elusive (and oft curiously transposed) terms. Special thanks to Mark Mistiaen for proofreading and correcting my flawed translation.

3. Thank you to Tobi for the translation from the original German.

For a full account of the Feejee Mermaid, see “The Feejee Mermaid and Other Essays in Natural and Unnantural History”, Jan Bondeson, Cornell University Press, 1999.