This article about centipedes was published in a magazine in 1856. It addresses the topic of centipedes in general, but largely focuses on gigantic centipedes that injure and kill humans. Interestingly, the writer seems to have been quite concerned with theological implications. Such concerns were very much characteristic of the era. A problem comes up with the digital presentation of the illustration. The text of the article indicates that the illustration, which is a drawing of a particular specimen, "is scarcely as large as the original." The drawing is about seven inches tall on the page of the magazine. However, the digitized image might be displayed at different sizes on different computers. At higher video resolutions the illustration will be smaller than at lower resolutions. One more thing - it should be obvious that first aid techniques (and especially ones that involve doses of ammonia mixed with brandy) mentioned in articles over a hundred years old should be taken as entertainment and not as sound medical advice, unless they can be vouched for by an actual physician. In any event, enjoy the article. —fadedpages.com

Gigantic Centipede.

NO one can for the first time look upon a centipede without shrinking back with terror, and exclaiming, involuntarily, that it is one of the most repulsive of insects. In its general form it resembles the serpent, but the possession of "innumerable legs" gives it the additional horror of a monstrous creation. Overcoming our first impressions, and examining it attentively, we find that its body is divided into numerous segments of the same length and thickness, each being furnished with a pair of legs, which end in a sharp-pointed claw, backed by three smaller ones, each capable of inflicting a painful inflammatory wound. Its head is ornamented with two short antennæ, composed of seven joints, illuminated by two granulated eyes, formed by the junction of numerous smaller ones; its mouth is overlapped by a pair of strong forceps, or hooks, which have openings beneath their points, through which, when it bites, a poisonous fluid is injected after the manner of the fang of the death-dealing rattlesnake. The centipede is carniverous in its appetites, and steals about in search of victims and food only in the night. There are two varieties of the largest kind, those nearly white inhabiting the ground, those of a light chocolate brown frequenting the decayed bark of diseased trees, or that attached to fallen timber. The inhabitants of temperate climates are practically free from these dreaded insects, and are thus compensated, in a degree at least, for the loss of the balmy airs and tropical splendors of more Southern climes. A variety of the centipede, however, exists in "the North," called "Thousand-legs," which fortunately remains always insignificant in size. They are to be more frequently found in regions famous for the accumulation of lumber, particularly about saw-mills, and are occasionally met with every where in the rich loam of decaying trees. The Southern representative, however, is not altogether unknown in the Northern States, for, independent of the specimens preserved in the cabinets of the curious, they are sometimes imported in cargoes of hides, or find a hiding-place among the thousand articles known to commerce. But a few years since, a person employed in unloading a vessel at Boston was unexpectedly bitten by one of these dreaded insects, and from the ignorance of himself and those about him of proper remedies, death soon ensued.

The centipede is the greatest pest encountered in the West India islands, in the countries bordering on the "Spanish Main," and the hottest parts of the American continent. In the vicinity of the Arkansas and Red Rivers in Texas, they are somewhat abundant, reaching about four inches in length, and proving an immense annoyance to the settlers. The utmost vigilance is required where they abound, even in the most cleanly houses, to prevent them from finding their way into beds or clothing, to which they seem to be attracted for comfortable lodgment and surrounding warmth. Upon the the appearance of a light, if in an exposed situation, they attempt to make their escape, and run off with great rapidity, but if interrupted, they instantly stand on the defensive, biting severely upon the slightest provocation. This hostile disposition renders them very dangerous when once they have taken possession of a bed, for the slightest movement of its occupant, over which they may be crawling, and who can scarcely fail to be disturbed by their pointed claws, insures a venomous bite, which will be rapidly repeated if the enraged insect is not quickly destroyed. The bite is exceedingly painful, and is made additionally so by the attending inflammation caused by the punctures of the claws. An irritable fever follows, accompanied by delirium, and if the patient is of an excitable habit, amputation or excision of the bitten part becomes necessary, or death ensues. Persons accustomed to the centipede lessen the danger by an immediate application of the cupping-glass, or by pressing the barrel of a large key forcibly over the wounds, which seems to press out the poison, and suspend the activity of the surrounding circulation; the application of ammonia, and frequent doses of it mixed with brandy, also act as powerful antidotes.

The centipede is hatched from an egg, and comes forth a perfect insect; and what is most remarkable, the young is the subject of great care on the part of the maternal parent, being fostered by her long after they are able to take care of themselves. When first ushered into being they have but six legs, their additional feet, as well as the rings to which they are attached, becoming developed as they advance in age, one ring and one pair of feet marking the passage of a year. The centipede lives longer, and continues to increase in strength more than any other insect; it survives through many generations. This fact, and its peculiar organization, makes the centipede remarkable among all the varied races of insect life.

The centipede not only exists upon vegetable juices, but as it increases in strength it depends mainly upon crickets, roaches, and beetles for subsistence, and it is in search of these comparatively harmless creatures that brings it into the habitations of man, where they are sometimes absolutely welcomed in order to extirpate the accumulated vermin. The presence of the cen­tipede is known by the confusion it creates among the different insects in its vicinity, for, unexpectedly, they will be seen in a state of great disorder; the beetles will retreat to their holes, the crickets will stop chirruping, and the roaches, which grow very large in tropical climates, losing all control over their action, will fly madly against the walls, and then falling on the floor become an easy prey to the centipede, which dexterously rips open the body of the roach, devours its interior, and moves on in search of another victim.

The accumulation of vermin in tropical countries, in the course of every three or four years, becomes so great about the houses of the inhabitants, that a point arrives when the plague can no longer be borne. The walls of the adobe buildings seem to be absolutely alive with creeping things. Scorpions, centipedes, mice, spiders, snakes, in ten thousand nameless but annoying forms of reptile and insect life, teem up from the floors, arbors, and gardens. The raising of an article of dress, the hasty seizure of a drinking-cup, the picking up of a chip, any simple act of life, in fact, that brings humanity in contact with the things around it, will possibly rouse some hidden-away insect, whose poisonous fangs will the next instant be in the intruder's flesh. Life becomes unbearable; the plagues of Egypt are upon the land. Suddenly it is announced that a little black ant has made its appearance: a general exclamation of welcome ensues. The advanced guard of the invincible "driver" promises the approach of the grand army. The habitations are deserted by their human inmates, and the little ants in countless numbers cover the locality. Now can be witnessed the fluttering of the roaches—can be heard the squeaking of the mice and rats; the serpents come coiling in death-agony from their holes; "every creeping thing" in the vicinity is undergoing martyrdom. There is no chance of escape. The ants are every where, between the ceilings, in the walls, over the roof, beneath the floors; not a nook or crevice escapes them, not a hole or corner is overlooked. In a few hours the grateful labor of extermination is completed; commencing their work at night, before the morning dawns they have taken their departure, leaving behind nothing but the wrecks of their victims.

Our illustration represents a centipede taken some months since in Venezuela, South America, and now in the collection of Dr. I. Deck, of New York city. The drawing is scarcely as large as the original, for the formidable insect could, when living, extend itself to the enormous length of twelve inches. It is believed to be the largest authenticated one known, although the Indians and residents in "the interior" testify to having seen them much longer. The "deadly" centipede of Jamaica, St. Domingo—so named from the almost certain death that follows its bite—seldom exceeds five inches in length. If the theory be true, that the centipede obtains one ring and one pair of feet each year, the remarkable specimen before us was eighteen years old. When first discovered it was in an attitude of defiance, being worried by a dog; a child then aided in the assault and was mortally wounded; a native then came to the rescue, and succeeded in capturing it, but not until his arm was poisoned to such an extent as afterward to demand amputation.

In the examination of the poisonous machinery of insects and reptiles, it is apparent that the destructive principle is the same in all; and that the fang in all possesses a hollow through which the poison flows into the wound the moment the incision is made. The sting of the scorpion is precisely like the fang of the rattlesnake, and performs its deadly work on the same mechanical principles. From the slow progress of the science of entomology, it is yet to be discovered what are the complete uses of insects (more particularly the poisonous ones) in the economy of nature. From what little is known, however, of certain races, it is but a natural inference, that in the creation of all are to be found demonstrative proofs of Divine wisdom and beneficence. But for the myriads of insect workers which perform their part in tropical climates, feeding upon decaying vegetable and animal matter, the atmosphere would soon become so loaded with noxious vapors as to render the preservation of the human race impossible. As we become more and more acquainted with the secret workings of nature, we are gradually led to the conclusion, that even the deadly centipede is not made in vain; that it must have its useful purposes, and performs a merciful mission in its allotted part in the creation; that nothing exists, in fact, but what is admirable; there being no room for critical censure, no true emotion but spontaneous praise.

Warning - This information has been transcribed from a source that is well over 100 years old. It may be incorrect or outdated in some cases. It is also possible that errors were made during the transcription process. This information is being made available for entertainment purposes only.