SIR, The passage in last month’s ‘Diary of a Dilettante,’ relative to the assertion of an eminent Swedish naturalist, that the swan, instead of being a silent bird, has a peculiar and musical note of its own, recalls to mind a discussion on which critics and commentators, as well as naturalists, have spent much time and ink without effect. The late Mr. Joddrell, in his elaborate illustrations of Euripides, dedicated thirty-four octavo pages to the collecting, classing, and balancing all the authorities pro and con, but concludes without arriving a whit nearer certainty than when he began. The modern evidence he thus sums up: ‘If we recapitulate in a summary manner the modern evidence, we shall find that Leland and Olaus Magnus believed it. Aldrovraudus has added to his own knowledge the testimony of Fred. Pendasius, George Bracus, Albertus, and Antonius Musa Brasavelus, who declared it on the evidence of their own senses. Olaus Wormius, besides the assertion of several of his scholars who were natives of Iceland, mentions the attestation of John Rostorph, upon oath. Bartholinus, to his own observation on the vernal song of the swan, has annexed the personal experience of Geo. Wilkelius and Paulus Melisius Schedius Francus: and Ernestus has cited the testimony of an Asiatic, and of Paulus Vidalinus. There are the authors and witnesses of more modern times, who acknowledge and support the ancient idea of the harmony of the swan; and it is remarkable that the expression of “swan-song” is used to this day as proverbial in Sweden, to express any great eclat of a person when taking his last farewell. On the other hand, in opposition to these authorities, Erasmus, Scaliger, Bodin, Dr. Brown, Willoughby, Morin, Pennant, and Bryant, consider this supposed song a visionary notion, without any natural foundation to support it.’ I quote the above from a letter in the Gentleman’s Magazine for Sept. 1782, written by a correspondent who advocates decidedly the negative side of the question, appeals to the ancients for further support, and finally proposes that the celebrated John Hunter should set the point at rest, by dissecting a swan, and ascertaining whether its throat contained organs competent to the formation of musical sound or no. This letter produced an answer in the following November, which will serve to shew that Sweden and Iceland are, at all events, not the only countries frequented by the swan in a state of nature, in which the inhabitants firmly believe in its musical powers. After a short introductory paragraph, the writer says,— ‘In the Hebrides, of one of which I am a native, the swan is not uncommon. There is in Argyleshire a loch, or ‘In the month of October, 1769, upon their return to the inlets of the sea (for I was told they disappear in summer), I myself heard, at different times, one simple but plaintive note, the birds being at a distance on the water. I do not recollect to have been told anything concerning the swans’ vernal song in particular, but I remember it was said, that at other times their notes were various. But that the following tune—Gath nah cala, or the Song, or Note of the Swan—has been familiar to me from my infancy, and to every one else in the country who has an ear for music, I am as certain of as of any other fact I can mention. It is the first tune, on account of its simplicity, that musical scholars begin with, in the same manner as the King’s Anthem is first taught in England.’ Here the correspondence ended without reply or rejoinder. For my own part, it would be errant presumption to venture an opinion on a point already discussed by so many learned men, particularly as I have no fact within my own knowledge to found even an argument upon; but I cannot, nevertheless, help thinking that the evidence is in favour of the affirmative. Perhaps in its wide circulation your miscellany may fall into the hands of some person competent, from his own knowledge, to confirm or contradict the statement above quoted; though it is far from improbable, that within the last fifty years the march of civilization may have driven the wild birds from their haunts I am, Sir, &c. |