Siren Land

It was the Emperor Tiberius who startled his grammarians with the
question, what songs the Sirens sang? I suspect he knew more about the
matter than they did, for he was a Siren-worshipper all his life,
though fate did not allow him to indulge his genius till those last
few years which he spent among them on the rock-islet of Capri. The
grammarians, if they were prudent, doubtless referred him to Homer,
who has preserved a portion of their lay.

Whether Sirens of this true kind are in existence at the present day
is rather questionable, for the waste places of earth have been
reclaimed, and the sea's untrampled floor is examined and officially
reported upon. Not so long ago some such creatures were still found.
Jacobus Noierus relates that in 1403 a Siren was captured in the
Zuider Sea. She was brought to Haarlem and, being naked, allowed
herself to be clothed; she learned to eat like a Dutchman; she could
spin thread and take pleasure in other maidenly occupations; she was
gentle and lived to a great age. But she never spoke. The honest
burghers had no knowledge of the language of the sea-folk to enable
them to teach her their own tongue, so she remained mute to the end of
her days--a circumstance to be regretted, since, excepting in the Arab
tale of "Julnar the Sea-born," little information has been handed down
to us regarding the conversational and domestic habits of mediaeval
Sirens.

In the royal archives of Portugal are preserved the records of a
costly litigation between the Crown and the Grand Master of the Order
of Saint James, as to who should possess the Sirens cast up by the sea
on the Grand Master's shores. The suit ended in the ting's favour: BE
IT ENACTED--THAT SIRENS AND OTHER MARINE MONSTERS EJECTED BY THE WAVES
UPON LAND OWNED BY THE GRAND MASTER SHALL PASS INTO THE POSSESSION OF
THE KING. This would show that Sirens were then fairly plentiful. And
one of the best authenticated cases is that recorded by the veracious
Captain John Smith--he of Pocahontas fame. "I cannot here omit to
mention," says he, "the admirable creature of God which in the year
1610 I saw with these my own eyes. I happened to be standing, at
daybreak, on the shore not far from the harbour of St. John, when I
observed a marine monster swiftly swimming towards me. Lovely was her
shape; eyes, nose, ears, cheeks, mouth, neck, forehead, and the whole
face was as that of the fairest maiden; her hair, of azure hue, fell
over her shoulders...." Altogether, a strange fish. The rest of the
quotation will be found in Gottfried's _Historia Antipodum_.

Consult also Gessner, Rondeletius, Scaliger, and other good folks,
from whose relations it appears evident that Sirens were common enough
in their days and, doubtless for that reason, of little repute; for
whatever is common becomes debased, as the very word "vulgar" proves.
This perhaps helps to explain their fishy termination, for the oldest
Sirens were of bird kind. The change took place, I imagine, about the
time of Saint Augustine, when so many pagan shapes began to affect new
vestments and characters, not always to their advantage. It influenced
even those born in Hellenic waters, whom we might have supposed to
have remained more respectable and conservative than the others.

Thus Theodorus Gaza, whose name is a guarantee of good faith and
intelligence--did he not write the first Greek grammar?--once related
in a large and distinguished company (Pontanus was also present) how
that, after a great storm in the Peloponnesus, a sea-lady was cast up
with other jetsam on the beach. She was still alive and breathing
hard; her face and body were "absolutely human" and not uncomely.
Immediately a large concourse of people gathered round, but her sighs
and heaving breast plainly showed how embarrassed she was by their
vulgar curiosity. Presently she began to cry outright. The
compassionate scholar ordered the crowd to move away and escorted her,
as best he could, to the water's edge. There, throwing herself into
the waves with a mighty splash, she vanished from sight. This one,
again, partook rather of the nature of a fish than of a bird.