IV.
THE SELF-IMMURED.
Turning from reputed beings of which the very existence is the subject of doubt, let us consider one or two well-known and homely creatures, about which a certain degree of romantic interest hovers, because conditions of life are attributed to them by popular faith, which the general verdict of science denies.
One of the most remarkable examples in this category of dubitanda, is the oft-repeated case of Toads and similar animals found inclosed within the solid wood of living trees, or even within blocks of stone, with no discernible communication with the external air, or at least no aperture by which they could have entered their prison, yet, in every instance, alive. That insuperable difficulties stand a priori in the way of our believing in such conditions, no one familiar with animal physiology can deny; for, as Mr Bell observes, to believe that a Toad inclosed within a mass of clay, or other similar substance, shall exist wholly without air or food, for hundreds of years, and at length be liberated alive and capable of crawling, on the breaking up of the matrix,—now become a solid rock,—is certainly a demand upon our credulity which few will be ready to answer.
Yet, after all, it is a question that must not be decided a priori: it must rest upon evidence. It may be that here, too, fact is stranger than fiction; and we must not shut our eyes and ears to concurrent credible testimony, if it happen to bear witness to facts which we cannot account for. Truth will certainly be upon us, even though, ostrich-like, we thrust our head into a bush, and maintain that we cannot see it.
The learned historian of British Reptiles speaks with his characteristic candour upon the point. He admits that the many concurrent assertions of credible persons, who declare themselves to have been witnesses of the emancipation of imprisoned Toads, forbid us hastily to refuse our assent, or at least to deny the possibility of such a circumstance; while he demands better and more cautious evidence to authorise our implicit faith in these asserted facts.[97]
The ordinary mode of accounting for the phenomena, supposing them to be narrated in good faith, is that the animal "fell into the hollow where the men were at work, and was taken up by them in ignorance of the mode in which it had come there," or that "it may have hidden in the hollow of a tree during the autumn and winter, and on the return of spring found itself so far inclosed within its hiding-place as to be unable to escape." This latter suggestion would be more worthy of attention were the winter season the period in which, in our climate, periodical additions are made to the living wood, so as to narrow the entrance, or in which augmentations of bulk occurred to Toads, so as to prevent them from getting out where they got in;—but unfortunately the reverse of both suppositions is true. As to the former suggestion, while it may possibly serve to dismiss a few of the published statements, there are others which it would be absurd to explain thereby.
True to its principles of never shutting the door to the investigation of any natural history subject, the Zoologist has, during the eighteen years of its existence, been a medium for collecting and preserving facts bearing on this question. The pages of this periodical form an invaluable storehouse to the philosophic naturalist, who wishes to pursue his science undeterred by the ridicule of sciolism or the frown of authority. Let us search its treasures, then, expecting to find stories of diverse grades of credibility, of which the editor wisely leaves his readers to judge for themselves.
In May 1844, the Rev. J. Pemberton Bartlett of Kingston, in Kent, an experienced naturalist, mentions the following fact as having just come under his own notice:—"Only a few weeks since, in cutting down a fir-tree here, the workman discovered, completely imbedded in the centre, a Toad, which had doubtless been there some years, as the tree had completely grown over it; it must have been kept alive by absorbing the moisture of the tree. It was not in a completely torpid state, and after being exposed to the air a few hours, it crawled in true toad-like style. The age of the tree in which it was found was, as far as I could judge from the number of circles, about twenty-five years."[98]