Lithograph, "Pussy's Family". DL*60.2338. Peters Prints Collection.
Anecdote of a Cat
Author Unknown
Annotations by Josh benjamin
Haskell and Allen. Pussy’s Family. Lithograph, c. 1872. National Museum of American History, Washington, D.C.
Volumes have been filled with accounts and praises of the sagacity of dogs; but cats seem to have been generally considered an ill-natured, stupid race. The following anecdote, related in “Good’s Book of Nature,” proves that there are some exceptions to this dishonourable character.
“A favourite cat, that was accustomed, from day to day, to take her station quietly at my elbow, on the writing table, sometimes for hour after hour, whilst I was engaged in study, became, at length, less constant in her attendance, as she had a kitten to take care of. One morning, she places herself in the same spot, but seemed unquiet; and instead of seating herself as usual, continued to rub her furry sides against my hand and pen, as though resolved to draw my attention, and make me leave off. As soon as she had accomplished this point, she leaped down on the carpet, and made toward the door, with a look of great uneasiness. I opened the door for her, as she seemed to desire; but, instead of going forward, she turned round, and looked earnestly at me, as though she wished me to follow her, or had something to communicate. I did not fully understand her meaning, and being much engaged at the time, shut the door upon her, that she might go where she liked. In less than an hour afterwards, she had again found an entrance into the room, and drawn close to me; but, instead of mounting the table, and rubbing herself against my hand, as before, she was now under the table, and continued to rub herself against my feet; on moving which, I struck them against something that seemed to be in the way; and, on looking down, beheld with grief and astonishment, the dead body of her little kitten, covered over with cinder-dust. I now entered into the entire train of this afflicted cat’s feelings. She had suddenly lost the nursling she doated on, and was resolved to make me acquainted with it, that I might know her grief, and inquire into the cause. She found me too dull to understand her expressive motioning,—that I would not follow her to the cinder-heap, on which the dead kitten had been thrown,—and she took the great labour of bringing it to me herself, from the area, on the basement floor, up a whole flight of stairs, to lay it at my feet. I took the kitten up in my hand, the cat still following me, and inquired into its death, for which, I found no one was very much to blame; and the yearning mother having thus gotten her master to enter into her cause, and share her sorrows, gradually took comfort, and resumed her former station at my side.”
Cornelis Visscher. The Large Cat. Etching with engraving on off-white laid paper, c. 1657. Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum, New York, N.Y.
Author unknown. “Anecdote of a Cat.” The Juvenile Miscellany 4, no. 1 (March 1828): 86-88.
Contexts
During the 19th century, cats were not commonly the domesticated companions they are now. Throughout much of history, aside from ancient Egypt, they were severely mistreated and considered evil. By the mid-1800s, cats were still subject to an undeserved reputation on par with weasels and raccoons, as noted by cat historian Paul Koudounaris in” ‘The Feline States of America’: How Cats Helped Shape the US.”
In an excerpt from her book The Pug Who Bit Napoleon: Animal Tales of the 18th and 19th Centuries, Mimi Matthews recognizes that although cats still lacked the popularity they now have, many Victorian-era cat owners cared enough to hold elaborate funerals for their pets. Several other articles on Matthews’ website offer some historical context for cats.
Marsden Hartley. Yliaster (Paracelsus). Oil on paperboard mounted on particleboard, 1932, Smithsonian American Art Museum and its Renwick Gallery, Washington, D.C.
Did you suppose, Madam Water, that I should not find out who you were? The very noise and uproar you make about yourself, is so characteristic, that it betrays you. Your fondness for display is quite inexcusable. It is seldom you take a step without making all around you hear of it. For myself, I delight to work secretly; and it is only when I am enraged by our frivolous sister, the Wind, that I openly rise in my might, and terrify the world.
You talk, as if you one had claims to majesty and beauty, but yourself. You never visited me in my deep, glowing, palaces, under Vesuvius and Ӕtna,—how then can you judge of my splendour? Travellers come from all parts of the world to look at my flaming brow, as I rise from the mountains, and make the earth quake around me; ask them if there is not beauty as well as sublimity in my upward motion? Iceland is my favourite retreat. Some say my father is buried there, and that he still heaves the island, by blowing his coals and working at his anvil. That is all a fable; but I love to stay there, just to show you how little I care for the most freezing reception you can give me. In that cold, northern region, wrapped up in your stiff dignity, it amuses me to see how quick you spit forth your indignation in boiling geysers, whenever I breathe upon you. If I were you, I would cultivate a better temper, before I boasted of my placid face, and a figure as flexile as the sister Graces. I regret being employed in such drudgery by man, as well as you; especially as we are generally obliged to do their work by fighting together.
I love to caper on Vesuvius; to gallop about among the clouds; to roar and roll under the islands, sometimes throwing them out of the ocean, from the hollow of my burning hand, and sometimes dragging them down to my caverns, with a might that makes the world tremble; but I do not love to struggle with you, in the slavery of distilleries and steam-boats.
But though lordly man forces all the elements into his use, he cannot prevent their sometimes rising beyond his power. When we do o’ermaster him I think you are about as much to be dreaded as I am. If you again are to claim superiority to me in that, or any other respect, I shall be as mad as
Fire.
Felice Giani. The Four Elements: Earth, Water, Air, Fire. Pen and brown ink, brush and brown wash over traces of graphite on cream laid paper, ca. 1800, Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum, New York, NY.
Author Unknown. “Answer to guess whom.” The Juvenile Miscellany 4, no. 3 (July 1828): 367-69.
Contexts
To Americans in the 1930s, Mexico represented an ancient and deeply spiritual civilization much different than their own industrial one. Artists and writers visited and returned excited by the myths and rituals that permeated the everyday lives of Mexican people. Marsden Hartley, whose painting begins this page, made the trip in 1932 and returned interested in Aztec art’s landscapes and surviving remnants, as explained by the Smithsonian’s gallery label.
Colored pencil drawing by Child, 1827. From the Lydia Maria Child Flower Souvenir Book, courtesy of the Medford Historical Society & Museum Collection.
James.—I have been trying to read, in my room, this evening; but I could not, because the beetles, millers, and musquitoes[1] troubled me so much. You say everything does good, Aunt Maria; and I have come on purpose to ask, what such tormenting creatures as insects can be made for.
Aunt M.—It would take me a long time to tell all their uses. Silk, worn in such quantities all over the globe, is the work of a worm, you know. Nut galls, used both in medicine and colouring, are excrescences on the oak, in Asiatic Turkey;[2] which insects build as habitations for their young. Cochineal, from which our dyers procure their finest rose-colour, is an insect of South America. Spiders’ webs are recommended for the ague; and various species of flies are used as blisters.[3] An important article, called lac, used in making sealing-wax, varnish, and japan,—in cementing cracked china; and colouring, is likewise obtained from an insect.[4] The prodigious quantity of wax and honey used in the world, is furnished by these industrious little creatures.[5] Anatomists use them for surgical purposes; for they pick bones cleaner than the most delicate knife could do it.[6] The Chinese beetles are very brilliant. When seen through a microscope, they appear to be covered with gold and precious stones. For this reason, the ladies of that country embroider their wings into dresses.[7] In India, fire-flies are enclosed in gauze, and worn as ornaments in the hair.[8] Besides these particular uses, they serve to keep us in good health, by devouring a thousand poisonous and disagreeable substances, floating in the air.[9]
James.—They do more good than I thought of, to atone for the mischief they make; but the poor animals, especially horses, suffer much from them, without receiving good at their hands.
Fragment of textile embroidered with beetle wings, India, 19th century. Public domain.
Aunt.—I am not certain of that. Physicians say it does animals good, to be bled by these little surgeons; and the constant motion in which they are kept by restlessness, is probably conducive to health.[10] However, I am not at all disposed to deny their great power to annoy and injure us. Many animals and plants have insects peculiar to them. Some bite and torture almost to madness,—others deposit their eggs under the skin, from whence they are taken into the mouth, and produce diseases. Horses, cows, and sheep, are each troubled with the latter species, called gad-flies,—which place their eggs on the lip, or in the nose. When hatched, the insects sometimes force their way to the very brains of sheep.[11] They seem to carry on quite as much of warfare between their various tribes, as the inhabitants of the deep. Spiders spread nets for flies. Wasps and hornets often tear bees to pieces, in order to get at their honey; and sometimes they take possession of a hive, after driving away the rightful owners. There are idlers of the same species, called Corsair bees, which plunder the hives of the industrious.[12] Another enemy to bees, is known by the singular title, of death’s-head hawk moth, on account of a mark like a scull upon its back.[13] He mimics so well the noise which the queen bee makes, that all the bees remain motionless, and let him plunder as much as he will. Moths deposit their eggs in honey-comb, frequently; and the young caterpillars, covering themselves with wax, and silk woven by themselves,—live there and steal what they please, in spite of the stings of a whole republic. Sometimes they do so much mischief, that the bees quit their hive in despair. Some insects creep into the shells of fish, and devour the inhabitants.[14] The pretty, little lady-bug is a great enemy to the small, green leaf-lice, which are so apt to devour rose-bushes; and the best way to clear plants of these vermin is, to establish a colony of lady-bugs among them.[15]
James.—I remember hearing these things, in one of Doctor Bradford’s lectures, last winter. He said it was very fortunate that children, all over the world, loved lady-bugs too well to kill them. He said too, that it was wise and kind in Providence, to make one species of insect live by destroying another,—else the world would be overrun by them. Can you tell me what he said about the ant-lion, which digs a pit to catch ants?[16]
Aunt.—It is a native of the South of Europe; and it is so slow in its motions that it would die for want of food, if it did not make up in cunning, what it needs in swiftness. He digs a circular pit fall, with his head and legs. He uses the leg toward the inside of the circle, and tosses the earth out with his head. When one leg gets tired, he crosses over to the opposite side, so as to make use of the other. If he meets with little stones, he places them, one by one, on his head, and jerks them outside the margin of the pit. If the stones are large, he balances them carefully on his back, and walks off with them. When the trap is nicely finished, he places himself in the middle, and hides himself with sand. If a poor ant happens to touch the shelving edge of the pit, down he tumbles into the jaws of his devourer; and if he attempt to scramble out again, the ant-lion shovels sand upon him at such a rate that he cannot see his way.
James.—Oh, how I hate cunning. I should be ashamed to get my living in such a vile, deceitful way, if I were an insect. Do they, like birds, have instinct in taking care of their young?
Aunt.—Yes, they evince quite as much care, in this respect, as other animals. The butterflies, which we see roving from flower to flower, are not seeking their own pleasure only,—they are trying to find a good place to deposit their eggs, so that their young may have proper food, the moment they are hatched. The flesh-fly places her eggs in meat with no bad intention; she puts them there, because her offspring must have the juices of meat for support.[17] The ichneumon-fly bores a hole in the body of the common caterpillar, in spite of all his struggles, and leaves an egg there. When the grub comes to life, he eats the inside of the caterpillar,—but carefully avoids the vital organs; so that the poor worm lives and eats only to furnish food for his enemy.[18] Some insects burrow a hole in the ground, and bury three or four living caterpillars with their eggs. The warmth of these bodies serve[s] to hatch the little ones, and then they live upon the worms till they are old enough to make their way out of the ground. The burying-beetle digs graves with great skill and hard labour,—and by dint of pulling, pressing, and treading, he buries birds, frogs, fishes, and grasshoppers, for his young.[19] Most insects die soon after they have placed their eggs; therefore all the care they take, must be in providing a good place for them. Many insects which live after their offspring are hatched, continue to have an eye on them,—such as honey-bees, ants, and some wasps. The mason-wasp buries a caterpillar with her egg, and when she thinks it is eaten up, she opens the hole and pushes in another; and so on, till the maggot is able to take care of itself.[20] The field-bug marches about with a family of thirty or forty, of which she takes as much care as a hen does of her chickens. If you disturb a nest of ants, you will see them all eager to carry certain, little, white bodies to places of security. These are their young; and no power can divert them from their tender office. A cruel observer once cut an ant in two, while engaged in this operation; but the affectionate animal would not relax her efforts. With that part of her body to which the head was affixed, she managed to carry ten of these precious burdens into the interior of the nest, before she expired.[21]
James.—I wonder how any one could have the heart to do such a deed. Wasps do not live on caterpillars,—why do they bury them for their young?
Aunt.—We can only say it is instinct. They certainly have not reason to teach them that a worm will come from the egg, and must have worms to feed on; but the God of nature has so taught them. Bees, which build cylindrical nests of rose-leaves, exhibit a very peculiar instinct. They first dig a cylindrical hole in the earth, and then go in quest of rose-bushes. After selecting leaves proper for the purpose, they cut oblong, curved, and even round pieces, so as to form exactly the different parts of the cylinder. Instinct teaches field-spiders to construct their webs with more exactness than house spiders; because they are more exposed to accidents from wind, rain, &c. And the same law of nature teaches them to roll themselves up, and pretend to be dead, when they are attacked. A large spider in South America, builds a nest strong enough to entrap small birds. In Jamaica, there is a spider, which digs a hole three inches into the ground, and lines it with a thick, tough web, like a leathern purse. For greater security, it has a door with hinges, when any of the inhabitants go abroad, or return home. Instinct, too, teaches the bee to make wax out of the farina of flowers; and with it construct thousands of six-sided cells, so exactly and economically, that mathematicians themselves are puzzled. Wasps bite off splinters from fences, door-posts, &c. and weave them into a kind of cloth, with which they make nests as curious as the comb of the bee. Sixteen thousand cells are sometimes contained in one wasp’s nest. I do not tell you about the industrious ants; or the regular government of bees and wasps; because many of your books give very particular accounts of the cell built for the queen bee; of the soldier bees, which guard her; the working bees, which bring home materials for the store-house; and of the drones, which are deservedly killed, and turned out of the way. If you wish for interesting accounts of all these things, and many others, read Miss Wakefield’s “Instinct Displayed,” and Smellie’s “Natural Philosophy.” There you will find accounts of the termites, a species of African ant, which destroys trees, undermines houses, and consumes clothes, furniture, and books; in short, every thing, except stones and metals. Such stories told of a little insect, no bigger than an ant, seem like mere “travellers’ wonders.” There is, however, no doubt of their truth. It is said that boxes full of papers have been left on the table at night, and not more than a square inch of them found in the morning. I will not, however, be answerable for the correctness of this statement. One traveller in Gambia states, that the height and regularity of their nests, made him mistake them, at a little distance, for a negro village. Another says “Some of these ant-hills are twenty feet high, and large enough to contain a dozen men.” They too, have a queen, soldiers, and domestics. If attacked, they fight furiously; biting every thing that comes within their reach; but let what will occur, the working-ants never fight, and the soldiers never work. The mischief they do is incredible. Whole villages, if left for a short time, are utterly destroyed by them.[22]
Locusts, which the Scriptures tell us have devoured every green thing in Egypt, have, in later times, ravaged European countries. We have accounts of swarms so large, as to be four hours in passing over a city, and so thick, as to shut out the light of the sun. Mr. Barrow states, that an area of 2,000 square miles, in the South of Africa, was literally covered with them; and that when driven into the sea by a north-west wind, they formed a bank three or four feet high, along the shore, for the space of fifty miles. The noise they make has been compared to the rushing of flame; and the effect of their bite, to that of fire.[23] (See the 10 first verses of the 2d chapter of Joel.)[24] Musquitoes, and those exceedingly small creatures called gnats, are great tormentors, when then come in swarms. In 1736, they rose from Salisbury Cathedral, England, in such numbers, that they resembled columns of smoke; and the church was actually supposed to be on fire. Dr. Clarke, speaking of his travels in Crim Tartary, informs us, that himself and companions were covered with one entire wound, from the bite of these insects; notwithstanding they were well guarded with clothes, handkerchiefs, and gloves.[25] Even when sleeping in his carriage, they forced themselves into his nose, ears, and mouth. In Africa and South America, these little demons are so furious, that travellers cannot sleep in peace, unless they thrust their heads into holes in the earth, and wrap their bodies in hammocks. Accounts are given of a Persian king, who was compelled to raise the siege of a Greek city, by the swarms of gnats, which attacked his elephants. Man can overcome the lion and the tiger, but these insignificant, little things, defy his strength, and elude his utmost wisdom.
James.—Doctor Bradford said, that wheat, rye, barley, indeed, almost every vegetable, had some peculiar insect, which injured or destroyed it. Though you have told me a great deal of good they do, it seems to me the mischief balances it a hundred times over.
Aunt.—One use I forgot to mention, which does not sound very pleasantly to us. They are used for food.[26] The luxurious Romans used to fatten beetles for their tables. The Greeks considered grass-hoppers a great delicacy. The frugal Chinese, unwilling to waste any thing, cook the silk worm, after taking away the silk. Palm-weevils and caterpillars, are held in great repute among the East Indians. The Hottentots parch white ants, to eat, as we do corn; and Mr. Smeathman says they taste like almond cakes.[27] The Arabs grind locusts, mix them with flour and water, and bake them. This kind of food is probably alluded to in scripture, where it is said of John the Baptist, “His meat was locusts and wild honey.”[28] The Hottentots preserve the same insect by salting and smoking; and the Moors prefer locusts to pigeons. The formation of insects is wonderful. Their bodies are always adapted to the soil and climate, which Providence intends they should occupy; and they are as perfect, as they are minute. “None have less than six feet; some, have many more. They are furnished with little, flexible, jointed horns, called antennae; supposed to be the organs of some sense of which we are ignorant. They have neither ears, brains, nor nostrils. Most of them have two eyes; spiders have eight. Eight hundred lenses have been discovered in a fly; and seventeen thousand, three hundred and twenty-five, in the cornea of a butterfly. They are furnished with pores on the side, through which they breathe; yet many of them possess several lungs, as well as several hearts. Silk-worms have a chain of hearts, which may be seen plainly through their transparent skins, while they are spinning.”[29] Surely, if they did not do more good than harm, Almighty Wisdom would not permit them to exist. Probably man does not yet know half their uses. One good moral lesson they certainly teach: viz. That no evil is insignificant because it is small. A few little faults may not do much harm; but unless destroyed, they will increase in swarms, and lay waste all the fair buds of virtue.
[1] Musquitos is an old-fashioned spelling of mosquitoes.
[2] Child’s science is accurate. A nut gall or nutgall is a swelling usually caused by insects. The Oxford English Dictionary states that “Oak-galls are largely used in the manufacture of ink and tannin, as well as in dyeing and medicine.” Such nutgalls are “one of a kind obtained from an oak of Asia Minor.” “Asiatic Turkey” references not the country, which was not yet established in Child’s time, but a region.
[3] “The ague” generically indicates a fever accompanied by chills and sweating. In Child’s time it often referenced malaria. Inducing blisters was a common medical treatment. See Steele in Resources for Further Study.
[4] Lac is “a resinous substance secreted by a scale insect.” Sealing wax is a type of substance that softens with heat. It was used to seal letters. Japan is a type of varnish that “yield[s] a hard brilliant finish.” Merriam-Webster.com. In Child’s time, china was too precious to discard, so families often repaired plates or cups with a natural glue.
[5] Child probably refers to bees here.
[6] Insects have long been used in medicine, a practice called Entomotherapy.
[7] Iridescent blue-green-purple beetle-wings decorated embroidery in southeast Asia during the nineteenth century, both for clothing and practical items like tea-cosies, which kept a teapot warm.
[8] For more details on hair art and other practices, see Tolini in Resources for Further Study.
[9] Child’s reference is unclear. She may be describing insects’ role as recyclers, which helps remove dead materials from the ground (and hence the smells that accompany decomposition).
[10] Bleeding, or bloodletting, was a common medical practice for thousands of years. Today it is used as a treatment only for a very few diseases.
[11] Myiasis is the infestation of a live animal by fly larvae. Both humans and animals can be affected.
[15] Ladybugs are predators of aphids (“leaf-lice”), which destroy many garden plants.
[16] The ant lion (sometimes spelled antlion) serves beneficial purposes in gardens.
[17] The flesh-fly looks like a common house-fly. It can cause illness in animals like cows and horses, as well as people.
[18] Ichneumons are actually wasps. Adults are vegetarians, but the larvae are parasitic.
[19] The burying-beetle is another name for the carrion beetle, which has been called “one of nature’s most efficient and fascinating recyclers.” They are currently an endangered species in the U.S.
[20] The mason wasp, also referred to as the black and red mason wasp, indeed preys on caterpillars; it is a small, solitary insect most common today in the southeastern U.S.
[22] The texts cited above are likely Priscilla Wakefield, Instinct Displayed, 4th ed. (1821) and William Smellie, The Philosophy of Natural History (1824). African termites are famous for their huge structures; mounds can reach over 17 feet high. However, they serve important ecological purposes, including help slow climate change. Like their African counterparts, North American termites also do substantial damage.
[23] Locusts can appear throughout the world. Child is not exaggerating the size of locust swarms.
[24] Joel 2:1-10 (KJV) prophesies the return of “the day of the Lord.”
[26] First-century Roman scholar Pliny “wrote that Roman aristocrats loved to eat beetle larvae reared on flour and wine.” See Gynup in References for Further Study.
[27] A Mr. Smeathman’s work on the white ant is referenced in an 1811 book, A Companion to Mr. Bullock’s Museum.
Child’s science is usually accurate, even by today’s standards. Her account participates in many contemporaneous discussions. As I point out in Stronger, Truer, Bolder, “John Skinner’s weekly newspaper, American Farmer, addressed the burdens that parasites caused agriculturalists” (49). Most children during this time were living on farms, and the information Child provides here would be important in caring for animals. On the other hand, a significant number of her readers would likely have been affluent children for whom this information might have seemed exotic. One important narrative feature is Child’s emphasis on a planetary perspective; by referring to many countries, she brings together knowledge both recognizable and supposedly foreign. Also notable in this natural history text is the author’s feminine emphasis, which uses anthropocentrism to make insects more familiar and which rejects the biblical emphasis on man’s dominion of nature.
Farina: “various powdery or mealy substances.” Merriam-Webster.com.
Resources for Further Study
Devitt, Annagh. “Entomotherapy: The Medical Use of Insects.” International Museum of Surgical Science.
Steele, Volney, M.D. Bleed, Blister, & Purge: A History of Medicine on the American Frontier. Missoula, MT: Mountain P, 2005.
Tolini, Michelle. “‘Beetle Abominations’ and Birds on Bonnets: Zoological Fantasy in Late-Nineteenth-Century Dress.” Nineteenth-Century Art Worldwide 1, no. 1 (Spring 2002). “Useful Products.” University of Nebraska Science Literacy and Outreach
Today we recognize many insects as beneficial to ecosystems. They have also emerged as a food that promotes human gut health and that will help prevent global food shortages. According to entomophagists (people who consume insects), many have familiar flavors.
Insects have regained credibility for numerous medical uses. Leeches, for example, can help heal surgical wounds. They are also used by museum curators and in law enforcement, as Mollie Bloudoff-Indelicato describes in her 2013 National Geographic Society article, “Flesh-Eating Beetles Explained.” Readers beware—this story is another one not for the queasy.
The flesh-fly has forensic uses, often providing evidence in legal and criminal proceedings. Again, read with caution.
Fringed Gentian, photographer unknown. Public domain.
Thou blossom, bright with autumn dew,
And coloured with the heaven’s own blue!
That openest when the quiet light
Succeeds the keen and frosty night.
Thou comest not when violets lean
O’er wandering brooks and springs unseen,
Or columbines, in purple drest,[1]
Nod o’er the ground-bird’s hidden nest.[2]
Thou waitest late, and com’st alone,
When woods are bare and birds are flown,
And frosts and shortening days portend
The aged year is near its end.
Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye
Look through its fringes to the sky,
Blue—blue—as if that sky let fall
A flower from its cerulean wall.
I would that thus, when I shall see
The hour of death draw near to me,
Hope, blossoming within my heart,
May look to heaven as I depart.
*[editor Lydia Maria Child’s note] The lines “To a Fringed Gentian” in the preceding number, were printed before Mr. Bryant honoured the Miscellany by one of his valuable communications. Had not the work been stitched for binding, before Mr. Bryant’s letter arrived, the editor would certainly have omitted any article to give place to it.
[1] Violets and columbines are spring flowers in Bryant’s native New England.
[2] The ground-bird is the killdeer, a shorebird that nests inland. Its nests and speckled eggs are often invisible to observers until they come too near, when the bird will pretend to have a broken wing to lure the intruder away.
Fringed Gentian by Tristan Loper. Wikimedia Commons CC-BY-SA-4.0
Contexts
Edited by writer and activist Lydia Maria Child, the Juvenile Miscellany was among the most notable antebellum children’s magazines. Child’s note suggests that author William Cullen Bryant was famous and that receiving his poem was an honor. As his Poetry Foundation biography asserts, “Bryant alerted the English-speaking world to an American voice in poetry.” Despite his immense fame and the popularity of his verses during much of the nineteenth century, few people know Bryant as a children’s poet. But his poem effectively addresses two audiences, including parents as well as children. Scholars cite this poem’s first appearance in Bryant’s Poems, published in 1832, but his younger readers came before this date. Teacher-editor Walter Barnes included “To the Fringed Gentian” in his 1919 text, Types of Children’s Literature: A Collection of the World’s Best Literature for Children, for Use in Colleges, Normal Schools, and Library Schools.
The autumn flower Gentianopsis crinita, or greater fringed-gentian, is native to all the New England states, though rare or threatened in some. It also appears in the upper Midwest and many of the Atlantic states, including Georgia. Its preferred habitat is open areas, such as fields and roadsides. For many Northerners, it has long been a beautiful and bittersweet indication of the coming winter.
Resources for Further Study
Gentianopsis crinita (Froel.) Ma: greater fringed-gentian. Native Land Trust, Go Botany. Framingham, MA.
Chafin, Linda G. Gentianopsis crinita (Froel) Ma: Fringed Gentian. Georgia Biodiversity Portal, Georgia Department of Natural Resources, Wildlife Resources Division.
Gentianopsis crinita (Froel.) Ma: Greater Fringed Gentian. Plant Database, Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center. The University of Texas at Austin.
Kilcup, Karen L. Who Killed American Poetry?: From National Obsession to Elite Possession. Athens: University of Georgia Press, 2019. A discussion of Bryant’s life and work appears in chapter 1.
Muller, Gilbert H. William Cullen Bryant: Author of America. Albany: State University of New York Press, 2008.
“William Cullen Bryant, 1784-1878.” Poetry Foundation. Has a substantial biography and large collection of Bryant’s poems. “William Cullen Bryant, 1784-1878.” Poets.org. Has a shorter biography and several of Bryant’s most famous poems.
Pedagogy
Breathitt County Schools has an instruction volume that includes Bryant and “To the Fringed Gentian,” with two study questions. See Part 1, Individualism and Nature, “American Romanticism: The Fireside Poets,” 200-201.
The poem’s old-fashioned language may make it difficult for today’s younger children, although many nineteenth-century children would not have found it especially challenging. Possible ways to engage students of all ages might be to use the poem as part of a nature- or natural history-oriented curriculum. If outdoor experiences are feasible, teachers could introduce students first to spring flowers in their local area (“columbines” and “violets”) and then, if the flower appears in the area, to the fringed gentian itself. Indoor experiences could focus on finding images of the flower and (depending on students’ learning levels), painting pictures of it, writing poems about it, or researching its botanical details and learning about its environmental status. Literary approaches for older students could emphasize the poem’s use of apostrophe, personification, and ballad structure.
Contemporary Connections
Bryant’s “To the Fringed Gentian” appears in numerous contemporary American literature anthologies. Like many of his other famous works, including “Thanatopsis” and “To a Waterfowl,” it may never have been out of print since the author first published it.
During the nineteenth century, many schools were named after the poet, and many still carry his name, including elementary schools in Cleveland, OH, Long Beach, CA, and Seattle, WA; and a high school in Queens, NY.
Behold now with an aspect clear,
The kindly smiling June appear;
While in its train the sun displays
The force of all his powerful rays!
The blooming orchards all around,
Are with the sweetest blossoms crown’d;
The cheerful larks now soar on high,
And sing, rejoicing to the sky.
The hawthorns clad in smiling bloom,
Emit a fragrant, rich perfume,
Fond Flora, in her gaudy dress,
Keeps in the gardens her recess;
And now beholds with glowing eyes,
The sweetly smelling flowers arise;
While ev’ry field, and each gay plain,
Exulting owns her pleasant reign.
With Joy husbandmen behold
The cheerful crops their farms unfold.
The welcome cuckoos fly around,
And glad us with their simple sound.
Anonymous. “June.” The Juvenile Port – Folio and Literary Miscellany, American Periodicals, 2, no. 22 (June 4, 1814): 88.
[1] This image was included in the original print of this poem. It reflects a sprite, most likely named June.
Pedagogy
Ask students to write poems for the other months. Have them structure it like this one. Contemporary Connections
Image from Ants in an Ant Hill by Writers’ Program, Pennsylvania. 1940
In eastern countries, Ants build their nests the height of from six to twelve feet, which is curiously formed, with numerous apartments and passages, consisting of regular walls and ceilings; these are made of bits of wood, sand, earth, and gum, and are usually built near some large tree and a stream of water. The body of the black ant is divided into head, breast, and belly. In its head are observed its eyes, under which are two small horns, or feelers, each composed of twelve joints, all covered with very fine silky hair. The mouth has two crooked jaws, in each of which there appear to be teeth. From the breast project six legs, each armed with two small claws. The Ants, like the Bees, are divided into three classes of males, females, and neutrals. The females are the largest, and the working tribe, or neutrals, are the smallest. The males and females have wings, which they sometimes lose.
So soon as the winter is past, these insects make their appearance, and the Ant-hill swarms with new life. On the first day they never leave home, but appear running about in all directions over the hill, as if to examine its condition, and to observe what repairs it may require. They then go to work with surprising activity to set all right, and pass the summer either in the employment of repairing their houses, or laying in a stick of food. It is a very curious sight to notice the laborious manner in which the bring various things home. If they meet with any thing too heavy for one to carry, several will assist, some dragging, others pushing; and thus in time they convey it home.
The fond attachment that the Ants have for their young is remarkable. In cold weather they take them in their mouths down to the bottom of their habitations, where they are less subject to the severity of the season. In a few days they remove them with the same care, nearer the surface, where they may be cheered with the warm beams of the sun.
At the slightest alarm, the Ants will sally out upon whatever disturbs them, and if they have time to stop their enemy, they show him no mercy. Sheep, Hens, and Rats, are often stung to death by multitudes of these merciless insects, and the flesh devoured to the bone. No anatomist in the world can strip a skeleton so clean as they; and no animal, however strong, when they have once seized upon him in sufficient numbers has power to resist them.
Anecdote.–In Africa, Ants are exceedingly numerous. Mr. Smith says, that during his residence at Cape Coast Castle, a body of these strange visitors came to the fortification. It was about day-break when the foremost part of them entered the chapel where some negro servants were sleeping. The men were quickly alarmed at the invasion of this unexpected army, and prepared as well as they could for their defence.–While the foremost battalion of these insects had already taken possession of the place, the rear-guard was more than a quarter of a mile distant. The while ground seemed alive and crawling with unceasing destruction. After considering a few minutes what was to be done, it was resolved to lay a large train of gun-powder along the path they had taken: by this means millions were blown to pieces, and the rear-guard perceiving the destruction of their leaders, thought proper to retire back to their original habitation.
Scripture References.–The few references that are made in Scripture to the Ant are of the considerable interest, , as they convey some important instructions. This active little insect is presented to our attention as a pattern of commendable saving, and increasing industry. Agur calls them exceedingly wise, and says of them, “The Ants are a people not strong, yet they prepare their meet in summer.”–Proverbs xxx: 25. He therefore sends the sluggard to them to learn wisdom, foresight, care, and diligence. The admirable order and harmony which prevail in their society, the amazing care with which they lay up their food, the unwearied industry and activity with which they pursue their work, and the prompt manner in which they run to lend their most friendly assistance to each other, all afford so many striking examples to mankind, that the Ant, though a most feeble creature in its nature, and most humble as it respects its station is yet well worthy to be regarded as a useful instructor of the human race, especially that part of them who mispend their time in improvident speculations, or wilful idleness, “Go to the Ant, thou sluggard, consider her ways, and be wise; which having no guide, overseer, or ruler, provideth her meat in the summer, and gathereth her food in the harvest.” Proverbs vi: 6. The skill, the vigour, the amazing activity, which the little Ants display in digging under ground, in building their houses, in forming their apartments, in filling their granaries with corn for the winter, in forming channels to carry off the rain, and in brining forth their hidden stores that are in danger of being spoiled by moisture, and exposing them to dry by the sun and air, all afford many most useful lessons.–How much reason then had Solomon to point to its shining example as worthy of imitation, and how much reason also have teachers now to address their scholars and say, “Go thou and do likewise,” that ye may not only become learned in notion, but wise in practice.
Reflections.–To be wise, provident, and, and diligent in the affairs of this life if of much importance.–It is better to labour advantageously, like the Ant, than to skip abroad and take pleasure in the sunshine, like the Grasshopper[2]. The former has a store laid by to preserve its life in the winter: but the latter perishes when the sever weather comes.
It is, however, of a far greater importance that we should become wise into salvation, through faith which is in Christ Jesus, and lay up durable riches while the season of mercy continues. We are commanded to “work out our own salvation with fear and trembling,” and thus, by the blessing of God, provide for a state of never-ending duration.
Black Female Carpenter Ant. 1921
Writers’ program. Pennsylvania. Life in an Ant Hill,. Chicago, A. Whitman & co., 1940. Internet Archive, http://archive.org/details/lifeinanthill00writ.
Willis and Rand. “The Ant.” Youth’s Companion, vol. 2, no. 2, June 1828, p. 3.
