Identifying the Attacus cecropia

January 19. 

Went to Cambridge to court. 

Dr. Harris says that my cocoons found in Lincoln in December are of the Attacus cecropia, the largest of our emperor moths. He made this drawing of the four kinds of emperor moths which he says we have.

Attacus cecropia

The cecropia is the largest. The cocoon must be right end uppermost when they are ready to come out. The A. Promethea is the only moth whose cocoon has a fastening wound round the petiole of the leaf, and round the shoot, the leaf partly folded round it. 

That spider whose hole I found, and which I carried him, he is pretty sure is the Lycosa fatifera. 

In a large and splendid work on the insects of Georgia, by Edwards and Smith (?), near end of last century, up-stairs, I found plates of the above moths, called not Attacus but Phaloena, and other species of Phaloena. 

He thinks that small beetle, slightly metallic, which I saw with grubs, etc., on the yellow lily roots last fall was a Donax or one of the Donasia (?).

In Josselyn's account of his voyage from London to Boston in 1638, he says, " June the first day in the afternoon, very thick foggie weather, we sailed by an enchanted island," etc. This kind of remark, to be found in so many accounts of voyages, appears to be a fragment of tradition come down from the earliest ac count of Atlantis and its disappearance. 

Varro, having enumerated certain writers on agriculture, says accidentally [sic] that they wrote soluta ratione, i.e. in prose. 

This suggests the difference between the looseness of prose and the precision of poetry. A perfect expression requires a particular rhythm or measure for which no other can be substituted. The prosaic is always a loose expression. 

Varro divides fences into four kinds, — unum naturale, alterum agreste, tertium militare, quartum fabrile. (Many kinds of each.) The first is the living hedge. One kind of sepes agrestis is our rail fence, and our other dead wooden farm fences would come under this head. The military sepes consists of a ditch and rampart; is common along highways; sometimes a rampart alone. The fourth is the mason's fence of stone or brick (burnt or unburnt), or stone and earth together.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, January 19, 1854

My cocoons found in Lincoln in December are of the Attacus cecropia, the largest of our emperor moths. See December 17, 1853 ("While surveying for Daniel Weston in Lincoln to-day, see a great many — maybe a hundred — silvery-brown cocoons, wrinkled and flattish, on young alders in a meadow, three or four inches long, fastened to the main stem and branches at same time, with dry alder and fragments of fern leaves attached to and partially concealing them; of some great moth.")

In a freshet the water rises higher as you go down the river.

July 8. 

Friday. 

I see an emperor moth (Attacus Cecropia), which came out the 6th. 

P. M. — To Clamshell by river. 

The Carex Muhlenbergii is common on Clamshell slope, just beyond the ravine. 

Thimble-berries have begun. 

The islands of the river, below the Assabet especially, — as Hosmer's, and the one just below French's Rock, — are now covered with 

• canary grass, which has almost entirely done and closed up; 
• fowl-meadow (Poa serotina), now fairly begun to bloom (first noticed the middle of June its slender green panicles shaped like a green red-top);
• Glyceria fluitans, going out of bloom; also
•  the sensitive fern (the "hand leaf" of haymakers); 
• pipes; 
• (and sedges, which might be named as soon as any, as the crinita which overhangs the water). 

I judge that in a freshet the water rises higher as you go down the river, both from the height to which it rose last March, as shown me at several bridges, and from the height of the bridges themselves, which the builders have been gradually compelled to raise, for the most part just above high-water mark.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 8, 1859

I see an emperor moth (Attacus Cecropia), which came out the 6th. See May 6, 1858 ("A boy brings me to-day an Attacus Cecropia moth . . ., the male, a dark brown above, and considerably larger than mine. It must be about seven inches in alar extent."); June 2, 1855 ("It was surprising to see the creature unfold and expand before our eyes, the wings gradually elongating, . . .at dusk, when apparently it was waving its wings preparatory to its evening flight, I gave it ether and so saved it in a perfect state.");June 18, 1857 ("They brought me an Attacus Cecropia . . . Its body was large like the one I have preserved"); June 22, 1857 ("It seems that Sophia found an Attacus Cecropia out in my chamber last Monday, or the 15th. It soon went to laying eggs on the window-sill, ")

Thimble-berries have begun.  See July 13, 1856 ("Thimble-berries are now fairly ripe and abundant");  July 17, 1856 ("On Linnaea Hill many thimble-berries and some raspberries."); July 18, 1854 ("As I go along the Joe Smith road, every bush and bramble bears its fruit; the sides of the road are a fruit garden; blackberries, huckleberries, thimble-berries, fresh and abundant, no signs of drought; all fruits in abundance; the earth teems. "); July 21, 1856 ("Low blackberries thick enough to pick in some places, three or four days. Thimble-berries about the 12th, and V. Pennsylvanicum much longer.").

The sensitive fern (the "hand leaf" of haymakers.) See September 6, 1856 ("The sensitiveness of the sensitive fern. If you take a tender plant by the stem, the warmth of your hand will cause the leaves to curl."); August 19, 1854 ("The very light yellowish-green of the sensitive fern which the mowers have left.")

I gave it ether and so saved it in a perfect state.

Attacus cecropia

June 2 

Still windier than before, and yet no rain. It is now very dry indeed, and the grass is suffering. Some springs commonly full at this season are dried up. The wind shakes the house night and day. 

From that cocoon of the Attacus cecropia which I found — I think it was on the 24th of May — on a red maple shrub, three or four feet from the ground, on the edge of the meadow by the new Bedford road just this side of Beck Stow’s, came out this forenoon a splendid moth. I had pinned the cocoon to the sash at the upper part of my window and quite forgotten it. About the middle of the forenoon Sophia came in and exclaimed that there was a moth on my window. At first I supposed that she meant a cloth-eating moth, but it turned out that my A. cecropia had come out and dropped down to the window-sill, where it hung on the side of a slipper (which was inserted into another) to let its wings hang down and develop themselves. 

At first the wings were not only not unfolded laterally, but not longitudinally, the thinner ends of the forward ones for perhaps three quarters of an inch being very feeble and occupying very little space. It was surprising to see the creature unfold and expand before our eyes, the wings gradually elongating, as it were by their own gravity; and from time to time the insect assisted this operation by a slight shake. It was wonderful how it waxed and grew, revealing some new beauty every fifteen minutes, which I called Sophia to see, but never losing its hold on the shoe. 

It looked like a young emperor just donning the most splendid ermine robes that ever emperor wore, the wings every moment acquiring greater expansion and their at first wrinkled edge becoming more tense. At first its wings appeared double, one within the other. At last it advanced so far as to spread its wings completely but feebly when we approached. This occupied several hours. 

It continued to hang to the shoe, with its wings ordinarily closed erect behind its back, the rest of the day; and at dusk, when apparently it was waving its wings preparatory to its evening flight, I gave it ether and so saved it in a perfect state. 

As it lies, not spread to the utmost, it is five and nine tenths inches by two and a quarter. 

P. M. —To Hill. 

Equisetum limosum pollen — a few — apparently two or three days. The late crataegus on the hill is in full bloom while the other is almost entirely out of bloom. 

Three yellowbirds’ nests, which I have marked since the 25th of May, the only ones which I have actually inspected, have now all been torn to pieces, though they were in places (two of them, at least) where no boy is at all likely to have found them. 

I see in the meadow-grass a fine cob web or spider’s nest three or four inches [in] diameter and, within it, on two twigs, two collections of little yellowish spiders containing a thousand or more, about half - as big as a pin-head, like minute fruit-buds or kernels clustered on the twig. One of the clusters disperses when I stoop over it and spreads over the nest on the fine lines. 

Hemlock leafed two or three days, the earliest young plants. The black spruce beyond the hill has apparently just begun to leaf, but not yet to blossom. Pinus rigida pollen a day or two or three on the plain. Sweet flag pollen about two days. 

Mr. Hoar tells me that Deacon Farrar’s son tells him that a white robin has her nest on an apple tree near their house. Her mate is of the usual color. All the family have seen her, but at the last accounts she has not been seen on the nest. 

Silene, or wild pink, how long? 

The Azalea nudiflora now in its prime. What splendid masses of pink! with a few glaucous green leaves sprinkled here and there —just enough for contrast.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, June 2, 1855

A spider's nest...containing a thousand or more. See June 8, 1860 ("I see a small mist of cobweb, globular, on a dead twig eight inches above the ground in the wood-path...., and when I disturb it I see it swarming with a mass of a thousand minute spiders.")

Ether. See May 12, 1851("If you have an inclination to travel, take the ether; you go beyond the furthest star.")

The Azalea nudiflora now in its prime. See June 2, 1856 ("To Azalea nudiflora, which is in prime."); May 29, 1855 ("Azalea nudiflora in garden"); May 17, 1854 (Azalea nudiflora in woods begins to leaf now") and May 31, 1853 ("I am going in search of the Azalea nudiflora.")

June 2. See A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, June 2

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau

"A book, each page written in its own season,

out-of-doors, in its own locality.”

~edited, assembled and rewritten by zphx © 2009-2021

While surveying for Daniel Weston in Lincoln

December 17

While surveying for Daniel Weston in Lincoln to-day, see a great many — maybe a hundred — silvery-brown cocoons, wrinkled and flattish, on young alders in a meadow, three or four inches long, fastened to the main stem and branches at same time, with dry alder and fragments of fern leaves attached to and partially concealing them; of some great moth.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, December 17, 1853

Cocoons of some great moth. See December 24, 1853 ("The largest are four inches long by two and a half, bag-shaped and wrinkled and partly concealed by dry leaves, — alder, ferns, etc., — attached as if sprinkled over them. This evidence of cunning in so humble a creature is affecting, for I am not ready to refer it to an intelligence which the creature does not share, as much as we do the prerogatives of reason. This radiation of the brain. The bare silvery cocoons would otherwise be too obvious. The worm has evidently said to itself: "Man or some other creature may come by and see my casket. I will disguise it, will hang a screen before it." Brake and sweet-fern and alder leaves are not only loosely sprinkled over it and dangling from it, but often, as it were, pasted close upon and almost incorporated into it.”); January 19, 1854 ("Dr. Harris says that my cocoons found in Lincoln in December are of the Attacus cecropia, the largest of our emperor moths."); February 19, 1854 ("Each and all such disguises and other resources remind us that not some poor worm's instinct merely, as we call it, but the mind of the universe rather, which we share, has been intended upon each particular object. All the wit in the world was brought to bear on each case to secure its end.”); June 2, 1855 ("From that cocoon of the Attacus cecropia which I found — I think it was on the 24th of May . . .came out this forenoon a splendid moth . . ..It was surprising to see the creature unfold and expand before our eyes, the wings gradually elongating, . . .at dusk, when apparently it was waving its wings preparatory to its evening flight, I gave it ether and so saved it in a perfect state.");June 18, 1857 ("They brought me an Attacus Cecropia . . . Its body was large like the one I have preserved"); June 22, 1857 ("It seems that Sophia found an Attacus Cecropia out in my chamber last Monday, or the 15th. It soon went to laying eggs on the window-sill, "); May 6, 1858 ("A boy brings me to-day an Attacus Cecropia moth . . ., the male, a dark brown above, and considerably larger than mine. It must be about seven inches in alar extent."); July 8, 1858 ("I see an emperor moth (Attacus Cecropia), which came out the 6th"):

Crows foraging

December 30.

The crows now and of late frequent the large trees by the river, especially swamp white oak, and the snow beneath is strewn with bits of bark and moss and with acorns. They are foraging.

Under the first swamp white oak in Hubbard's great meadow I see a little snap-turtle on its back on the ice -- shell, legs, and tail perfect, but head pulled off, and most of the inwards with it by the same hole (where the neck was). What is left smells quite fresh, and this head must have been torn off to-day -- or within a day or two.

I see two crows on the next swamp white oak westward, and I can scarcely doubt that they did it.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, December 30, 1860

Crows foraging.  See December 27, 1853 ("The crows come nearer to the houses, alight on trees by the roadside, apparently being put to it for food"); December 28, 1859 ("Crows come near the houses. These are among the signs of cold weather");January 11, 1861(" Horace Mann brings me the contents of a crow's stomach in alcohol. It was killed in the village within a day or two.") See also A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau, the American Crow

Dec. 30. Sunday.


I saw the crows a week ago perched on the swamp white oaks over the road just beyond Wood's Bridge, and many acorns and bits of bark and moss, evidently dropped or knocked off by them, lay on the snow beneath. 

One sat within twenty feet over my head with what looked like a piece of acorn in his bill.

To-day I see that they have carried these same white oak acoms, cups and all, to the ash tree by the river side, some thirty rods southeast, and dropped them there.

Perhaps they find some grubs in the acorns, when they do not find meat.

The crows now and of late frequent thus the large trees by the river, especially swamp white oak, and the snow beneath is strewn with bits of bark and moss and with acorns (commonly worthless).

They are foraging.

Under the first swamp white oak in Hubbard's great meadow ( Cyanean ) I see a little snap-turtle ( shell some one and a quarter inches in diameter — on his second year, then ) on its back on the ice — shell, legs, and tail perfect, but head pulled off, and most of the inwards with it by the same hole ( where the neck was ).

What is left smells quite fresh, and this head must have been torn off to-day or within a day or two.

I see two crows on the next swamp white oak westward, and I can scarcely doubt that they did it.

Probably one found the young turtle at an open and springy place in the meadow, or by the river, where they are constantly preying, and flew with it to this tree.

Yet it is possible ( ? ) that it was frozen to death when they found it.

I also saw under the oak where the crows were one of those large brown cocoons of the Attacus Cecropia, which no doubt they had torn off.

Eben Conant's sons tell me that there has been a turtle dove associating with their tame doves and feeding in the yard from time to time for a fortnight past. They saw it to-day.

The traveller Burton says that the word Doab, “ which two streams, has no English equivalent. ” ( “ Lake Regions of Central Africa, ” page 72. ) 

[The Wortleberry Family]