Back to book page: Moby-Dick

Chapter 104. The Fossil Whale

Reading settings

Text size

20
Line spacing
Column width
Typeface
Theme

Contents

  1. Etymology
  2. Extracts
  3. Chapter 1. Loomings
  4. Chapter 2. The Carpet-Bag
  5. Chapter 3. The Spouter-Inn
  6. Chapter 4. The Counterpane
  7. Chapter 5. Breakfast
  8. Chapter 6. The Street
  9. Chapter 7. The Chapel
  10. Chapter 8. The Pulpit
  11. Chapter 9. The Sermon
  12. Chapter 10. A Bosom Friend
  13. Chapter 11. Nightgown
  14. Chapter 12. Biographical
  15. Chapter 13. Wheelbarrow
  16. Chapter 14. Nantucket
  17. Chapter 15. Chowder
  18. Chapter 16. The Ship
  19. Chapter 17. The Ramadan
  20. Chapter 18. His Mark
  21. Chapter 19. The Prophet
  22. Chapter 20. All Astir
  23. Chapter 21. Going Aboard
  24. Chapter 22. Merry Christmas
  25. Chapter 23. The Lee Shore
  26. Chapter 24. The Advocate
  27. Chapter 25. Postscript
  28. Chapter 26. Knights and Squires
  29. Chapter 27. Knights and Squires
  30. Chapter 28. Ahab
  31. Chapter 29. Enter Ahab; to Him, Stubb
  32. Chapter 30. The Pipe
  33. Chapter 31. Queen Mab
  34. Chapter 32. Cetology
  35. Chapter 33. The Specksnyder
  36. Chapter 34. The Cabin-Table
  37. Chapter 35. The Mast-Head
  38. Chapter 36. The Quarter-Deck
  39. Chapter 37. Sunset
  40. Chapter 38. Dusk
  41. Chapter 39. First Night-Watch
  42. Chapter 40. Midnight, Forecastle
  43. Chapter 41. Moby Dick
  44. Chapter 42. The Whiteness of the Whale
  45. Chapter 43. Hark!
  46. Chapter 44. The Chart
  47. Chapter 45. The Affidavit
  48. Chapter 46. Surmises
  49. Chapter 47. The Mat-Maker
  50. Chapter 48. The First Lowering
  51. Chapter 49. The Hyena
  52. Chapter 50. Ahab’s Boat and Crew. Fedallah
  53. Chapter 51. The Spirit-Spout
  54. Chapter 52. The Albatross
  55. Chapter 53. The Gam
  56. Chapter 54. The Town-Ho’s Story
  57. Chapter 55. Of the Monstrous Pictures of Whales
  58. Chapter 56. Of the Less Erroneous Pictures of Whales, and the True Pictures of Whaling Scenes
  59. Chapter 57. Of Whales in Paint; in Teeth; in Wood; in Sheet-Iron; in Stone; in Mountains; in Stars
  60. Chapter 58. Brit
  61. Chapter 59. Squid
  62. Chapter 60. The Line
  63. Chapter 61. Stubb Kills a Whale
  64. Chapter 62. The Dart
  65. Chapter 63. The Crotch
  66. Chapter 64. Stubb’s Supper
  67. Chapter 65. The Whale as a Dish
  68. Chapter 66. The Shark Massacre
  69. Chapter 67. Cutting In
  70. Chapter 68. The Blanket
  71. Chapter 69. The Funeral
  72. Chapter 70. The Sphynx
  73. Chapter 71. The Jeroboam’s Story
  74. Chapter 72. The Monkey-Rope
  75. Chapter 73. Stubb and Flask kill a Right Whale; and Then Have a Talk over Him
  76. Chapter 74. The Sperm Whale’s Head—Contrasted View
  77. Chapter 75. The Right Whale’s Head—Contrasted View
  78. Chapter 76. The Battering-Ram
  79. Chapter 77. The Great Heidelburgh Tun
  80. Chapter 78. Cistern and Buckets
  81. Chapter 79. The Prairie
  82. Chapter 80. The Nut
  83. Chapter 81. The Pequod Meets The Virgin
  84. Chapter 82. The Honor and Glory of Whaling
  85. Chapter 83. Jonah Historically Regarded
  86. Chapter 84. Pitchpoling
  87. Chapter 85. The Fountain
  88. Chapter 86. The Tail
  89. Chapter 87. The Grand Armada
  90. Chapter 88. Schools and Schoolmasters
  91. Chapter 89. Fast-Fish and Loose-Fish
  92. Chapter 90. Heads or Tails
  93. Chapter 91. The Pequod Meets The Rose-Bud
  94. Chapter 92. Ambergris
  95. Chapter 93. The Castaway
  96. Chapter 94. A Squeeze of the Hand
  97. Chapter 95. The Cassock
  98. Chapter 96. The Try-Works
  99. Chapter 97. The Lamp
  100. Chapter 98. Stowing Down and Clearing Up
  101. Chapter 99. The Doubloon
  102. Chapter 100. Leg and Arm
  103. Chapter 101. The Decanter
  104. Chapter 102. A Bower in the Arsacides
  105. Chapter 103. Measurement of The Whale’s Skeleton
  106. Chapter 104. The Fossil Whale
  107. Chapter 105. Does the Whale’s Magnitude Diminish?—Will He Perish?
  108. Chapter 106. Ahab’s Leg
  109. Chapter 107. The Carpenter
  110. Chapter 108. Ahab and the Carpenter
  111. Chapter 109. Ahab and Starbuck in the Cabin
  112. Chapter 110. Queequeg in His Coffin
  113. Chapter 111. The Pacific
  114. Chapter 112. The Blacksmith
  115. Chapter 113. The Forge
  116. Chapter 114. The Gilder
  117. Chapter 115. The Pequod Meets The Bachelor
  118. Chapter 116. The Dying Whale
  119. Chapter 117. The Whale Watch
  120. Chapter 118. The Quadrant
  121. Chapter 119. The Candles
  122. Chapter 120. The Deck Towards the End of the First Night Watch
  123. Chapter 121. Midnight.—The Forecastle Bulwarks
  124. Chapter 122. Midnight Aloft.—Thunder and Lightning
  125. Chapter 123. The Musket
  126. Chapter 124. The Needle
  127. Chapter 125. The Log and Line
  128. Chapter 126. The Life-Buoy
  129. Chapter 127. The Deck
  130. Chapter 128. The Pequod Meets The Rachel
  131. Chapter 129. The Cabin
  132. Chapter 130. The Hat
  133. Chapter 131. The Pequod Meets The Delight
  134. Chapter 132. The Symphony
  135. Chapter 133. The Chase—First Day
  136. Chapter 134. The Chase—Second Day
  137. Chapter 135. The Chase.—Third Day
  138. Epilogue

Keyboard shortcuts

  • ← / →previous or next chapter
  • j / kscroll down or up
  • bbookmark this place
  • fturn focus mode on or off
  • ?show this list

Quote card

Preparing the card…

Moby-Dick

Chapter 104. The Fossil Whale

Chapter 106 of 1387 min

From his mighty bulk the whale affords a most congenial theme whereon to enlarge, amplify, and generally expatiate. Would you, you could not compress him. By good rights he should only be treated of in imperial folio. Not to tell over again his furlongs from spiracle to tail, and the yards he measures about the waist; only think of the gigantic involutions of his intestines, where they lie in him like great cables and hawsers coiled away in the subterranean orlop-deck of a line-of-battle-ship.

Since I have undertaken to manhandle this Leviathan, it behooves me to approve myself omnisciently exhaustive in the enterprise; not overlooking the minutest seminal germs of his blood, and spinning him out to the uttermost coil of his bowels. Having already described him in most of his present habitatory and anatomical peculiarities, it now remains to magnify him in an archæological, fossiliferous, and antediluvian point of view. Applied to any other creature than the Leviathan—to an ant or a flea—such portly terms might justly be deemed unwarrantably grandiloquent. But when Leviathan is the text, the case is altered. Fain am I to stagger to this emprise under the weightiest words of the dictionary. And here be it said, that whenever it has been convenient to consult one in the course of these dissertations, I have invariably used a huge quarto edition of Johnson, expressly purchased for that purpose; because that famous lexicographer’s uncommon personal bulk more fitted him to compile a lexicon to be used by a whale author like me.

One often hears of writers that rise and swell with their subject, though it may seem but an ordinary one. How, then, with me, writing of this Leviathan? Unconsciously my chirography expands into placard capitals. Give me a condor’s quill! Give me Vesuvius’ crater for an inkstand! Friends, hold my arms! For in the mere act of penning my thoughts of this Leviathan, they weary me, and make me faint with their outreaching comprehensiveness of sweep, as if to include the whole circle of the sciences, and all the generations of whales, and men, and mastodons, past, present, and to come, with all the revolving panoramas of empire on earth, and throughout the whole universe, not excluding its suburbs. Such, and so magnifying, is the virtue of a large and liberal theme! We expand to its bulk. To produce a mighty book, you must choose a mighty theme. No great and enduring volume can ever be written on the flea, though many there be who have tried it.

Ere entering upon the subject of Fossil Whales, I present my credentials as a geologist, by stating that in my miscellaneous time I have been a stone-mason, and also a great digger of ditches, canals and wells, wine-vaults, cellars, and cisterns of all sorts. Likewise, by way of preliminary, I desire to remind the reader, that while in the earlier geological strata there are found the fossils of monsters now almost completely extinct; the subsequent relics discovered in what are called the Tertiary formations seem the connecting, or at any rate intercepted links, between the antichronical creatures, and those whose remote posterity are said to have entered the Ark; all the Fossil Whales hitherto discovered belong to the Tertiary period, which is the last preceding the superficial formations. And though none of them precisely answer to any known species of the present time, they are yet sufficiently akin to them in general respects, to justify their taking rank as Cetacean fossils.

Detached broken fossils of pre-adamite whales, fragments of their bones and skeletons, have within thirty years past, at various intervals, been found at the base of the Alps, in Lombardy, in France, in England, in Scotland, and in the States of Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama. Among the more curious of such remains is part of a skull, which in the year 1779 was disinterred in the Rue Dauphine in Paris, a short street opening almost directly upon the palace of the Tuileries; and bones disinterred in excavating the great docks of Antwerp, in Napoleon’s time. Cuvier pronounced these fragments to have belonged to some utterly unknown Leviathanic species.

But by far the most wonderful of all Cetacean relics was the almost complete vast skeleton of an extinct monster, found in the year 1842, on the plantation of Judge Creagh, in Alabama. The awe-stricken credulous slaves in the vicinity took it for the bones of one of the fallen angels. The Alabama doctors declared it a huge reptile, and bestowed upon it the name of Basilosaurus. But some specimen bones of it being taken across the sea to Owen, the English Anatomist, it turned out that this alleged reptile was a whale, though of a departed species. A significant illustration of the fact, again and again repeated in this book, that the skeleton of the whale furnishes but little clue to the shape of his fully invested body. So Owen rechristened the monster Zeuglodon; and in his paper read before the London Geological Society, pronounced it, in substance, one of the most extraordinary creatures which the mutations of the globe have blotted out of existence.

When I stand among these mighty Leviathan skeletons, skulls, tusks, jaws, ribs, and vertebræ, all characterized by partial resemblances to the existing breeds of sea-monsters; but at the same time bearing on the other hand similar affinities to the annihilated antichronical Leviathans, their incalculable seniors; I am, by a flood, borne back to that wondrous period, ere time itself can be said to have begun; for time began with man. Here Saturn’s grey chaos rolls over me, and I obtain dim, shuddering glimpses into those Polar eternities; when wedged bastions of ice pressed hard upon what are now the Tropics; and in all the 25,000 miles of this world’s circumference, not an inhabitable hand’s breadth of land was visible. Then the whole world was the whale’s; and, king of creation, he left his wake along the present lines of the Andes and the Himmalehs. Who can show a pedigree like Leviathan? Ahab’s harpoon had shed older blood than the Pharaoh’s. Methuselah seems a school-boy. I look round to shake hands with Shem. I am horror-struck at this antemosaic, unsourced existence of the unspeakable terrors of the whale, which, having been before all time, must needs exist after all humane ages are over.

But not alone has this Leviathan left his pre-adamite traces in the stereotype plates of nature, and in limestone and marl bequeathed his ancient bust; but upon Egyptian tablets, whose antiquity seems to claim for them an almost fossiliferous character, we find the unmistakable print of his fin. In an apartment of the great temple of Denderah, some fifty years ago, there was discovered upon the granite ceiling a sculptured and painted planisphere, abounding in centaurs, griffins, and dolphins, similar to the grotesque figures on the celestial globe of the moderns. Gliding among them, old Leviathan swam as of yore; was there swimming in that planisphere, centuries before Solomon was cradled.

Nor must there be omitted another strange attestation of the antiquity of the whale, in his own osseous post-diluvian reality, as set down by the venerable John Leo, the old Barbary traveller.

“Not far from the Sea-side, they have a Temple, the Rafters and Beams of which are made of Whale-Bones; for Whales of a monstrous size are oftentimes cast up dead upon that shore. The Common People imagine, that by a secret Power bestowed by God upon the Temple, no Whale can pass it without immediate death. But the truth of the Matter is, that on either side of the Temple, there are Rocks that shoot two Miles into the Sea, and wound the Whales when they light upon ’em. They keep a Whale’s Rib of an incredible length for a Miracle, which lying upon the Ground with its convex part uppermost, makes an Arch, the Head of which cannot be reached by a Man upon a Camel’s Back. This Rib (says John Leo) is said to have layn there a hundred Years before I saw it. Their Historians affirm, that a Prophet who prophesy’d of Mahomet, came from this Temple, and some do not stand to assert, that the Prophet Jonas was cast forth by the Whale at the Base of the Temple.”

In this Afric Temple of the Whale I leave you, reader, and if you be a Nantucketer, and a whaleman, you will silently worship there.

End of chapter