NATURAL HISTORY OF SELBORNE

 

 

 

 

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NAT U RA L H ISTO RY
. ' gOE SELBORNE &
OBSERVATIONS ON

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INTRODUCTION BY
JOHN BURROUOIIS
ILLUSTRATIONS
BY CLIFTON
JOHNSON

 

COPYRIGHT, 1895,
BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY.

PART I

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

PART I.

PAGE
White’s house,“ The Wakes, ” from the garden . Frontz‘spz'cce
Interior of Selborne church . . . . . . x
Unde1 the great yew in Selborne churchyard. . . . . xiii
Faringdon church . . . . . . . . xv
Selborne church from the short lythe . . . . Facing xvi
A Faringdon byway . . . . . . . . . xviii
White’s grave . . . . . . . . . . . xxii
A stile in the long lythe . . . . . . . . . xxiii
Selborne from the Hanger . . . . . . Facing I
A bit of Selborne village . . . . . . . . . 2'
The Plestor . . . . . . . . . . . 6
An old chalk-pit . . . . . . . , . . IO
Wolmer forest. . . . . . . . . Facing I8
Wolmer pond. . . . . . . . . 27'
One of the old Selborne houses . . . . . . . 33
A snipe . . . . . . . . . 39-
The great yew in the churchyard . . . . . . . 48
A corn- rick 1n Norton farmyard . . . . . . . 54
A white rook . .- . . . . . . . . . 58
A bird’s nest found. . . . . . . . . . 63.
The butcher’ 3 shop. . . . . . . . . 71
A friendly chat on Selborne street . . . . . . . 77
Stonehenge . . . . . . Facing 81
Cottages next to “ The Wakes" . . . . . . . 93
Beeches 1n the long lythe . . . . . . Facing 96
A cottage in the lythe . . . . . . . Facing 98
A family of landrails . . . . . . . . 99

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Among the hedgerows . . .
Golden-crested wrens

The cuckoo

A hedgehog

Song th1ushes . .
The backdoor walk to a cottage garden .
Ring- ousels

A “ rookstarver "

A fieldfare

Entrance to an old Selborne lane

A redwing

A rook

A starling

In a Selborne beechwood . . .
A crow . . . . . .
A bullfinch . . . . . .
Lapwings

House martins.

White’ 5 sundial at the bottom of his garden
A rookery

Facing

Facing

Facing
Facing

PAGE
108
113
121
124
129
132
140
I43
I53
162
167
I73
I74
183
190
192
I93
I95
202
207

 

 

INTRODUCTION.

ONE of the few books which I can return to and
re-read every six or seven years is this book of Gil-
bert White’s. It has a perennial charm. It is much
like country things themselves. One does not read
it with excitement or eager avidity; it is in a low
key; it touches only upon minor matters; it is not
eloquent, or witty, or profound ; it has only now and
then a twinkle of humour or a glint of fancy, and yet
it has lived an hundred years and promises to live
‘many hundreds of years more. So many learned
and elaborate treatises have sunk beneath the waves
upon which this cockle-shell of a book rides so
safely and buoyantly! What is the secret of its
longevity? One can do little more than name its
qualities without tracing them to their sources. It
is simple and wholesome, like bread, or meat, or
milk. Perhaps it is just this same unstrained qual-
ity that keeps the book- alive. Books that are pi-
quant and exciting like condiments, or cloying like
confectionery or pastry, it seems, have a much less

Vll

chance of survival. The secret of longevity of a
man—what is it? Sanity, ’moderation, regularity,
and that plus vitality, which is a gift. The book
that lives has these things, and it has that same plus
vitality, the secret of which cannot be explored.
The sensational, intemperate books set the world
on fire for a day, and then end in ashes and forget-
fulness.

VVhite’s book diffuses a sort of rural England at-
mosphere through the mind. It is not the work of a
city man who went down into the country to write
it up, but of a born countryman—one who had in
the very texture of his mind the flavour of rural
things. Then it is the growth of a particular local-
ity. Let a man stick his staff into the ground any-
where and say “This is home,” and describe things
from that point of view, or as they stand related
to that spot—the weather, the fauna, the flora—-
and his account shall have an interest to us it could
not have if not thus located and defined. This is
one secret of VVhite’s charm. His work has a home
air, a certain privacy and particularity. The great
world is afar off; Selborne is as snug and secluded
as a chimney corner; we get an authentic glimpse
into the real life of one man there; we see him go-
ing about intent, lovingly intent, upon every phase
of nature about him. We get glimpses into humble
cottages and into the ways and doings of the people;
we see the bacon drying in the chimneys; we see

viii

the poor gathering in Wolmer Forest the sticks and
twigs dropped by the rooks in building their nests;
we see them claiming the “lop and top" when the
big trees are cut. Indeed, the human touches, the
human figures here and there in White’s pages add
much to the interest. The glimpses we get of his
own goings and comings—we wish there were more
of them. We should like to know what took him to
London during that great snow-storm of January,
1776, or how he got there, inasmuch as the roads
were so blocked by the snow that the carriages from
Bath with their fine ladies on their way to attend
the Queen’s birthday were unable to get through.
“The ladies fretted, and offered large rewards to
labourers if they would shovel them a track to Lon-
don, but the relentless heaps of snow were too bulky
to be removed.” The parson found the city bedded
deep in snow, and so noiseless by reason of it that
i “ it seemed to convey an uncomfortable idea of deso-
lation.”

When one reads the writers of our own day upon
rural England and the wild life there, he finds that
they have not the charm of the Selborne naturalist;
' mainly, I think, because they go out with deliberate
intent to write up nature. They choose their
theme; the theme does not choose them. They love
the birds and flowers for the literary effects they can
produce out of them. It requires no great talent to
go out in the fields or woods and describe in grace-

1X

ful sentences what one sees there—birds, trees, How-
ers. clouds. streams, etc. ; but to give the atmosphere
of these things, to seize the significant and interesting

 

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features and to put the reader into sympathetic com-
munication with them, that is another matter.

Hence back of all, the one thing that has told
most in keeping White’s book alive is undoubtedly
its sound style—sentences actually filled with the
living breath of a man. We. are everywhere face to
face. with something genuine and real; objects, ideas,
stand out on the page ; the articulation is easy. and
distinct. The style of the born writer is like an open
fire: we are in direct communication with his mind;
we see the play of the forces at work; we get that
precious sense of reality. All this is true of White’s
pages. Yet he had no literary ambitions. His style
is that of a scholar, but of a scholar devoted to
natural knowledge. There was evidently something
Winsome and charming about the man personally,
and these qualities reappear in his pages.

White was a type of 'the true observer—the man
with the detective eye. He did not seek toread his
own thoughts 'and' theories into Nature, but sub-
mitted his mind to her with absolute frankness and
ingenuousness. He had infinite curiosity, and de-
lighted in nothing so much as a new fact about the
birds and the wild life around him. To see the‘thinig.
as .it..was.in itself and in its relations, that was his am-
bitiorn. He could resist the tendency of hisovvn mind
to believe-without sufficient evidence. Apparently
he wanted to fall in with the notion current during

the last century, that swallows hybernated in' the
xi

mud in the bottoms of streams and ponds, but he
could not gather convincing proof. It was not
enough that a few belated specimens were seen in
the fall lingering about such localities, or again hov-
ering over them early in spring; or that some old
grandfather had seen a man who had taken live
swallows out of the mud. Produce the man and let
us cross-question him—that was White’s attitude.
Dr. Johnson said confidently that swallows did thus
pass the winter in the mud “ conglobulated into a
ball," but Johnson had that literary cast of mind that
prefers a picturesque statement to the exact fact.
White was led astray by no literary ambition. His
interest in the life of nature was truly a scientific
one; he must know the fact first, and then give
it to the humanities. How true it is in science, in
literature, in life, that any secondary motives vitiate
the result! Seek ye the kingdom of truth first and
all things shall be added.

But White seems finally to have persuaded him-
self that at least a few swallows passed the winter in
England in a torpid state—if not in the bottom of
streams or ponds, then in holes in their banks. He
reasoned from analogy, though he had expressed his
distrust of the mode of reasoning. If bats, insects,
toads, turtles, and other creatures can thus pass
the winter, why not swallows? On many different
occasions of a mild day late in the fall, and early
in the spring, he saw house-martins flying about; on

X11

the weather suddenly changing to colder, they quick-
ly disappeared. Bats and turtles came forth and
then vanished in the same way. \Vhite finally con-

 

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Cluded that the mystery was the same in both
cases—that the creatures were brought from their
winter retreats by the warmth, only to retire to
them again when it changed to cold. If he had

2 xiii

adhered to his usual caution he would have waited
for actual proof of this fact—the finding of a torpid
swallow. He made frequent search for such, but
never found any.

This notion so long current about the swallows
probably had its origin in two things: first, their
partiality for mud as nesting material; and secondly,
the habit of these birds, after they have begun to
collect into flocks in midsummer, preparatory to
their migrations, of passing the night in vast numbers
along the margins of streams and ponds. White
knew of their habits in this respect, and wanted to
see in the fact presumptive evidence of the truth of
the notion that, though they may not retire into
the water itself, yet that they “may conceal them-
selves in the banks of pools and rivers during the un- .
comfortable months of the year.” One midsummer
twilight in northern Vermont 1 came upon hundreds
of swallows—barn and cliff—settled for the night
upon some low alders that grew upon the margin
of a deep still pool in the river. The bushes bent
down with them as with an over-load of fruit. This
attraction for the water on the part of the swallow
family is certainly a curious one, and is not easily ex-
plained.

Our sharp—eyed parson had observed that the
nesting habits of birds afford a clue to their roosting
habits; that they usually pass the night in such
places as they build their nests. Thus, the tree-build-

XlV

ers roost in trees; the ground—builders upon the
ground. I have seen our Chickadee and woodpeck—
er enter, late in the day, the cavities in decaying
limbs of trees. I have seen the oriole dispose of her—
self for the night on the end of a maple branch where
her “pendent bed and procreant cradle ” was begun
a few days later. In walking through the summer
fields in the twilight, the vesper sparrow or the song
sparrow will oft—
en start up from
almost beneath
one’s feet. It is
said that the
snow - bunting
will plunge be-
neath the snow
and pass the
nightthere. The
ruffed grouse
often does this,
but the swallows
seem to be an
exception to
this rule. I

 

have seen a vast

ClOud Of SWlitS Fau'nga’wz C/zmrh.

take up their

lodging for the night in a tall, unused chimney: but

the barn swallows and the Cliff and white—bellied
XV

swallows, at least after the young have flown, ap-
pear to pass the night in the vicinity of streams.
\Vhite noticed also—and here the true observer
again crops out—that the fieldfare, a kind of thrush,
though a tree-builder, yet always appears to pass
the night on the ground. “The larkers, in drag-
ging their nets by night, frequently catch them in
the wheat stubbles.” He learned, as every observer
sooner or later learns, to be careful of sweeping
statements—that the truth of nature is not always
caught by the biggest generalisations. After speak-
ing of the birds that dust themselves, earth their
plumage—1721!:'cmz‘rz'a's, as he calls them—he says:
“As far as I can observe, many birds that dust
themselves never wash, and I once thought that
those birds that wash themselves would never dust;

9

but here I find myself mistaken,’ and instances the
house sparrow as doing both. \Vhite seems to have
been about the first writer upon natural history who ~
observed things minutely; he saw through all those
sort of sleight-o’-hand movements and ways of the
birds and beasts. He held his eye firmly to the
point. He saw the swallows feed their young on the
wing; he saw the fern-owl while hawking about a
large oak “put out its short leg while on the wing,
and by a bend of the head deliver something into
its mouth.” This explained to him the use of its
middle toe, “ which is curiously furnished with a ser-
rated claw.” He times the white owls feeding their

xvi

 

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young under the eaves of his church, with watch in
hand. He saw them transfer the mouse they
brought from the foot to the beak, that they might
have the free use of the former in ascending to the
nest.

, In his walks and drives about the country he was
all attention to the life about him, simply from his
delight in any fresh bit of natural knowledge. His
curiosity never flagged. He had naturally an alert
mind. His style reflects this alertness and sensitive-
ness. .In his earlier days he was an enthusiastic
sportsman, and he carried the Sportsman’s trained
sense and love of the chase into his natural-history
studies. He complained that faunists were too apt
to content themselves with general terms and bare
descriptions: the reason, he says, is plain—“be-
cause all that may be done at home in a man’s
study; but the investigation of the life and conversa-
‘tion of animals is a concern of much more trouble
and difficulty, and is not to be attained but by the
active and inquisitive,,and by those that reside-much

H

in the country. He himself had the’true inquisi-
tiveness and activity, and the loving, discriminating
eye. He saw the specific marks and differences at a
glance. Then, his love of these things was so well
known in the neighbourhood, that this kind of knowl-
edge flowed to him from all sides. He was a magnet
that attracted all the fresh, natural lore about him.

People brought him birds and eggs and nests, and

xvii

 

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animals or any natural curiosity. and reported to him
any unusual occurrence. They loaned him the use

of t‘ieir eyes and ears. One day a countryman told

xviii

him he had found a young fern-owl in the nest of
a small bird on the ground, and. that it was fed by
the little bird. “I went to see this extraordinary
phenomenon, and found that it was a. young cuckoo
hatched in the nest of a titlark; it was become
vastly too big for its nest, appearing to have its large
wings extended beyond the nest,”

‘ . . . in tenui re
Majores pennaes nido, extendisse,’

and was very fierce and pugnacious, pursuing my
finger, as I teased it, for many feet from the nest,
and sparring and buffetting with its wings like a
gamecock. The dupe of a dam appeared at a dis-
tance, hovering about with meat in its mouth, and
expressing the greatest solicitude.”

He observed that the train of the peacock was
really not its tail, but an entirely separate appendage.
‘ He remarked how extremely fond 'cats are of fish,
and yet of all quadrupeds “are the least disposed
towards the water.” This is a curious fact to him. A
neighbour of his, in ploughing late in the fall, turned
a water-rat out of his hybernaculum in a field far re-
moved from any water. The rat had laid up above
a gallon of potatoes for its winter food. This was
another curious fact that set the writer speculating
His correspondent tells him of a heronry near some
manor-house that excites his curiosity much. “ Four-

score nests of such a bird on one tree is a rarity
xix

which I would ride half as many miles to get a sight
of.” Such a lively curiosity had the parson. His
thirst for exact knowledge was so great, that on
one occasion he took measurements of the carcass
of a moose when he was probably compelled to
hold his nose to finish the task. At one place he
heard of a woman who professed to cure cancers
by the use of toads ; some of his brother clergymen
believed the story, but when he came to sift the evi-
dence he made up his mind that the woman was a
fraud.

He said truly, “ There is such a propensity in man-
kind towards deceiving and being deceived, that
one cannot safely relate anything from common
report, especially in print, without expressing some
degree of doubt and suspicion.”

The observations of hardly one man in five hun-
dred are of any value for scientific purposes.

White had the true scientific caution, and was, as
a rule, very careful to verify his statements.

Of course the science of VVhite’s time was far be-
hind our own. The phenomenon Of the weather, for
instance, was not understood then as it is now. The
great atmospheric waves that sweep across the con-
tinents and the regular alternations of heat and cold
were unsuspected. White observes that cold de-
scended from above, but he thought that thaws often
originated under ground, “from warm vapours which
arise.” He was greatly puzzled, too, when, during

XX

the severe cold of December, 1784, the thermometer
fell many degrees lower in the valley bottoms than
on the hills. He had not observed that the very
cold air on such occasions settles down into the val-
leys and fills them like water, marking the height to
which it rises by a level line upon the trees or foliage.
It is a wonder that his sharp eye did not detect the
true source of honey dew, but it did not. He
thought it proceeded from the effluvia of flowers,
which, being drawn up into the sky by the warmth
of the sun by day, descended again as dew by night.

When a French anatomist announced that he had
discovered why the cuckoo did not hatch its own
eggs—namely, because the crop or craw of the bird
was placed back of the sternum, so as to make a pro-
tuberance on the belly—White dissected a cuckoo
for himself, and, finding the fact as stated, proceeded
to dissect other birds that he knew did incubate, as
the fern-owl and a hawk; and finding the craw situ-
ated the same as in the cuckoo, justly charged the
Frenchman with having reached an unscientific con-
clusion.

In his seventy-seventh letter White clearly antici-
pates Darwin as to the beneficial functions of earth-
worms in the soil, and tells farmers and gardeners
that the little creatures which they look upon as their
enemy is really their best friend.

Changes are slow in England: All the essential
features 'of Selborne remain about as they were in

xxi

White’s time. It is still a humble rural village. His
church, his house, the Hanger, VVolmer Forest, the
old yew, all remain. I spent two days there in June,
1882. The pictures of Mr. Johnson that illustrate
this edition, taken as they were from the actual
scenes, bring back the memory of my visit very viv-
idly. The stone that
marks VVhite’s grave
has only his initials
upon it. I could not
see any signs of its
being visited any of-
tener than the un-
known graves. At
the inn a c0py of his
book was not to be
had. In a meadow
near the church the
haymakers, mostly
women, were at work.
A mother set her
baby down amid the
hay, where it cried
long and lustily while

 

she continued uncon-
cerned with her rake.
I walked amid the noble but dripping beeches of the
Hanger and alongtgreen lanes and across fields in
other directions. I saw and heard the black-cap

xxii

W lzz'te’s grave.

warbler, but took little note of other birds. I was
more especially in quest of the nightingale, but failed
to find her.

Rural England has charms of which we get but
faint glimpses in this country, and I found Selborne
deeply interesting in itself, as well as for its associa-
tions with the famous nature-loving parson.

JOHN BURROUGHS.
A [577'], 1895.

       
 

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xxiii

 

SJ/Wrm’ from f/Ic’ [Alwyn

THE
NATURAL HISTORY OF SELBORNE.

LETTER I.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

THE parish of SELBORNE lies in the extreme east-
ern corner of the county of Hampshire, bordering
on the county of Sussex, and not far from the county
of Surrey; it is about fifty miles south-west of Lon-
don, in latitude 51°, and near midway between the
towns of Alton and Petersfield. Being very large
and extensive, it abuts on twelve parishes, two'of
‘which are in Sussex, viz., Trotton and Rogate. If
you begin from the south and proceed westward the
adjacent parishes are Emshot, Newton Valence, Far-
ingdon, Harteley-Mauduit, Great Wardleham, Kings-
ley, Hedleigh, Bramshot, Trotton, Rogate, Lysse,
and Greatham. The soils of this district are almost
as various and diversified as the views and aspects.
The high part to the South-west consists of a Vast
hill of chalk, rising three hundred feet above the
village, and is divided into a sheep down, the high

wood, and a long hanging wood called the Hanger.
3 I

The covert of this eminence is altogether beech, the
most lovely of all forest trees, whether we consider
its smooth rind or bark, its glossy foliage, or grace-
ful pendulous boughs. The down, or sheep-walk, is
a pleasant park-like spot. of about one mile by half
that space, jutting out on the verge of the hill-coun-
try, where it begins to break down into the plains,
and commanding a very engaging View. being an
assemblage of hill, dale, woodlands, heath, and water.

 

A 171/ nf Sal/mam ail/11.313

The prospect is bounded to the south-east and east
by the vast range of mountains called the Sussex
downs, b_\' Guilddown near Guildford. and by the

downs round Dorking, and Ryegate in Surrey, to
2

the north-east, which altogether, with the country
beyond Alton and Farnham, form a noble and exten-
sive outline.

At the foot of this hill, one stage or step from the
uplands, lies the village, which consists of one single
straggling street, three-quarters of a mile in length,
in a sheltered vale, and running parallel with the
Hanger. The houses are divided from the hill by a
vein of stiff clay (good wheat land), yet stand on a
rock of white stone, little in appearance removed
from chalk; but seems so far from being calcareous,
that it endures extreme heat. Yet that the freestone
still preserves somewhat that is analogous to chalk,
is plain from the beeches which descend as low as
those rocks extend, and no farther, and thrive as
well on them, where the ground is steep, as one the
chalks.

The cart-way of the village divides, in a remark-
able manner, two very incongruous soils. To the
south-west is a rank clay, that requires the labour of
years to render it mellow; while the gardens to the
north-east, and small inclosures behind, consist of a
warm, forward, crumbling mould, called black malm,
which seems highly saturated with vegetable and
animal manure; and these may perhaps have been
the original site of the town; while the woods and
coverts might extend down to the opposite bank.

At each end of the village, which runs from

south-east to north-west, arises a small rivulet: that
3

at the north-west end frequently fails; but the other
is a fine perennial spring, called Well-head, little in-
fluenced by drought or wet seasons, inasmuch as it
produced on the 14th September, 1781, after a se-
vere hot summer and a preceding dry spring and
winter, nine gallons of water in a minute, at a time
when many of the wells failed, and all the ponds in
the vales were dry.

This spring breaks out of some high grounds
joining to Nore Hill, a noble chalk promontory, re-
markable for sending forth two streams into two
different seas. The one to the south becomes a
branch of the Arun, running to Arundel, and so fall-
ing into the British Channel: the other to the north.
The Selborne stream makes one branch of the
VVey; and, meeting the Blackdown stream at Hed-
leigh, and the Alton and Farnham stream at Tilford
Bridge, swells into a considerable river, navigable at
Godalming; from whence it passes to Guildford,
and so into the Thames at VVeybridge; and thus at
the Nore into the German Ocean.

Our wells, at an average, run to about sixty-three
feet, and when sunk to that depth seldom fail; but
produce a fine limpid water, soft to the taste, and
much commended by those who drink the pure ele-
ment, but which does not lather well with soap.

To the north-west, north, and east of the Village
is a range of fair inclosures, consisting of what is

called a white malm, a sort of rotten or rubble stone,
4

which, when turned up to, the frost and rain, moul-
ders to pieces and becomes manure to itself.

Still on to the north-east, and a step lower, is a
kind of white land, neither chalk nor clay, neither fit
for pasture nor for the plough, yet kindly for hops,
which root deep into the freestone, and have their
poles and wood for charcoal growing just at hand.
This white soil produces the brightest hops.

As the parish still inclines down towards VVol-
mer Forest, at the juncture of the clays and sand,
the soil becomes a wet, sandy loam, remarkable for
its timber and infamous for roads. The oaks of
Temple and Blackmoor stand high in the, estimation
of purveyors, and have furnished much naval tim-
ber; while the trees on the freestone grow large,
but are what workmen call shaky, and so brittle as
often to fall to pieces in sawing. Beyond the sandy
loam the soil becomes a hungry lean sand, till it min-
gles with the forest; and will produce little Without
the assistance of lime and turnips.

LETTER II.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

IN the court of Norton farmhouse, a manor-farm
to the north-west of the Village, on the white malm,

stood within these twenty years a broad-leaved elm,
5

or wych hazel, (7mm full}; Arlimimn sm/Iro, of Ray.
which, though it had lost a considerable leading
bough, equal to a moderate tree, in the great storm
in the y‘ar 1703. yet, when felled, contained eight
loads of timber; and being too bulky for carriage, was
sawn off at seven feet above the butt, where it meas-
ured near eight feet in the diameter. This elm I
mention to show to what a bulk planted elms may
attain; as this tree must certainly have been such
from its situation.

In the centre of the village, and near the church,

is a square piece of ground surrounded by houses,

 

771v l’lt'I/ur.

and vulgarly called the l’lestor. In the midst of this

spot stood. in old times, a vast oak, with a short
0

squat body and huge horizontal arms, extending
almost to the extremity of the area. This venerable
tree, surrounded with stone steps, and seats above
them, was the delight of old and young, and a place
of much resort in summer evenings; where the for-
mer sat in grave debate, while the latter frolicked
and danced before them. Long might it have stood,
had not the amazing tempest in 1703 overturned it
at once, to the infinite regret of the inhabitants and
the vicar, who bestowed several pounds in setting it
in its place again: but all his care could not avail;
the tree sprouted for a time, then withered and died.
This oak I mention to show to what a bulk planted
oaks also may arrive: and planted this tree must cer-
tainly have been, as appears from what is known
concerning the antiquities of the village.

On the Blackmoor estate there is a small wood
called Losel’s, of a few acres, that was lately fur-
nished with a set of oaks of a peculiar growth and
great value; they were tall and taper like firs, but
standing-near together had very small heads, only a
little brush without any large limbs. About twenty
years ago, the bridge at the Toy, near Hampton
Court, being much decayed, some trees were wanted
.for the repairs that were fifty feet long without
bough, and would measure twelve inches diameter
at the little end. Twenty such trees did a pur-
veyor find in this little wood, with this advan-

tage, that many of them answered the description
7

at sixty feet. These trees were sold at twenty
pounds apiece.

In the centre of this grove there stood an oak,
which, though shapely and tall on the whole, bulged
out into a large excrescence about the middle of the
stem. On this a pair of ravens had fixed their resi-
dence for such a series of years, that the oak was dis-
tinguished by the title of the Raven Tree. Many
were the attempts of the neighbouring youths to get
at this eyry : the difficulty whetted their inclinations,
and each was ambitious of surmounting the arduous
task. But when they arrived at the swelling, it
jutted out so in their way, and was so far beyond
their grasp, that the most daring lads were awed,
and acknowledged the undertaking to be too hazard-
ous. So the ravens built on, nest upon nest, in per-
fect security, till the fatal day arrived in which the
wood was to be levelled. It was in the month of
February, when those birds usually sit. The saw
was applied to the butt, the wedges were inserted
into the opening, the woods echoed to the heavy
blows of the beetle or mallet, the tree nodded to its
fall; but still the dam sat on. At last, when it gave
way, the bird was flung from her nest; and, though
her parental affection deserved a better fate, was
whipped down by the twigs, which brought her
dead to the ground.

LETTER III.

To THOMAS PENNANT. ESQ.

THE fossil-shells of this district, and sorts of stone,
such as have fallen within my observation, must not
be passed over in silence. And first I must mention,
as a great curiosity, a specimen that was ploughed
up in the chalky fields, near the side of the down,
and given to me for the singularity of its appear-
ance; which, to an incurious eye, seems like a petri—
fied fish of about four inches long, the cam’o (hinge)
passing for a head and mouth. It is in reality a
bivalve of the Linnaean genus of 1 yzi/us, and the
species of Crista Galli; called by Lister, Kristel/um,-
by Rumphius, Ostreum plicatum minus; by D’Argen-
.ville, Auris porci, s. Crista Gal/i; and by those who
make collections, cock’s comb. Though I applied to
several such in London, I never could meet with an
entire specimen; nor could I ever find in books any
engraving from a perfect one. In the superb mu-
seum at Leicester House, permission was given me
to examine for this article; and though I was disap—
pointed as to the fossil, I was highly gratified with
the sight of several of the shells themselves in high
preservation. This bivalve is only known to inhabit
the Indian Ocean, where it fixes itself to a zoophyte
known by the name Gorgonia. The curious foldings

of the suture, the one into the other, the alternate
9 .

flutings or grooves, and the curved form of my speci-
men are much easier expressed by the pencil than by
words.

Cary/m xlmmmzis are very common about this vil-
lage. As we were cutting an inclining path up the
Hanger. the labourers found them frequently on that
steep, just under the soil, in the chalk, and of a con-

 

A}! 0/1 r/m/K’ [5”.

siderable size. In the lane above \Vell-head, in the
way to Emshot, they abmind in the bank, in a dark-
ish sort of marl, and are usually very small and soft:
but in Clay's Pond, a little farther on, at the end of
the pit. where the soil is dug out for manure. l have
occasionally observed them of large dimensions, per-
haps fourteen or sixteen inches in diameter. But as

these did not consist of firm stone, but were formed
IO

of a kind of term [apz’dosa, or hardened clay, as soon
as they were exposed to the rains and frost they
mouldered away. These seemed as if they were of
very recent production. In the chalk-pit, at the
north-west end of the Hanger, large nautz'lz' are some-
times observed.

In the) very thickest strata of our freestone, and
at considerable depths, well-diggers often find large
scallops or pectin“, having both shells deeply stri-
ated, and ridged and furrowed alternately. They
are highly impregnated with, if not wholly com-
posed of, the stone of the quarry.

LETTER IV.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

AS in a former letter the freestone of this place
has been only mentioned incidentally, I shall here
become more particular. This stone is in great re-
quest for hearthstones and the beds of ovens; and in
lining of lime-kilns it turns to good account; for the
workmen use sandy loam instead of mortar; the sand
of which fluxes, and runs by the intense heat, and so
cases over the whole face of the kiln with a strong
vitrified ’coat like glass, that it is well preserved from
injuries of weather, and endures thirty or forty years:

When chiselled smooth, it makes elegant fronts for
II

houses, equal in colour and grain to the Bath stone;
and superior in one respect, that, when seasoned, it
does not scale. Decent chimney-pieces are worked
from it of much closer and finer grain than Portland ;
and rooms are floored with it; but it proves rather
too soft for this purpose. It is a freestone, cutting in
all directions; yet has something of a grain parallel
with the horizon, and therefore should not be sur-
ée’da’c’d—that is, set edgewise, contrary to its position
in the quarry—but laid in the same position that it
occupies there. On the ground abroad this‘fire-stone
will not succeed for pavements, because, probably,
some degree of saltness prevailing within it, the rain
tears the slabs to pieces.* Though this stone is too
hard to be acted on by vinegar, yet both the white
part and even the blue rag ferment strongly in min—
eral acids. Though the white stone will not bear
wet, yet in every quarry at intervals there are thin
strata of blue rag, which resist rain and frost, and are
excellent for pitching of stables, paths, and courts,
and for building of dry walls against banks; a valu-
able species of fencing, much in use in this village;
and for mending of roads. This rag is rugged and
stubborn, and will not hew to a smooth face; but is
very durable: yet, as these strata are shallow and lie
deep, large quantities cannot be procured but at con-

 

* “ Fire-stone is full of salts, and has no sulphur: it must be close-
grained, and have no interstices. Nothing supports fire like salts; salt-
stone perishes when exposed to wet and frost.”-—PLOT’S Slay. p. 152.

12

siderable expense. Among the blue rags turn up
some blocks tinged with a stain of yellow or
rust colour, which seem to be nearly as lasting
as the blue; and every now and then balls of a
friable substance, like rust of iron, called rust
balls.

In W'olmer Forest, I see but one sort of stone,
called by the workmen sand or forest-stone. This is
generally of the colour of rusty iron, and might
probably be worked as iron ore; is very hard and
heavy, and of a firm, compact texture, and composed
of a small roundish crystalline grit, cemented to-
gether by a brown, terrene, ferruginous matter; will
not cut without difficulty, nor easily strike fire with
:steel. Being often found in broad flat pieces, it makes
good pavement for paths about houses, never be-
-,-coming slippery in frost or rain ; is excellent for dry
walls, and is sometimes used in buildings. In many
parts of that waste it lies scattered on the surface of
the ground, but is dug on Weaver’s Down, a vast
hill on the eastern verge of that forest, where the
pits are shallow and the stratum thin. This stone is
'imperishable.

From a notion of rendering their work the more
elegant, and giving it a finish, masons chip this stone
into small fragments about the size of the head of a
large nail, and then stick the pieces into the wet
mortar along the joints of their freestone walls : this

embellishment carries an odd appearance, and has
13

occasioned strangers sometimes to ask us pleasantly
“whether we fastened our walls together with ten-
penny nails.”

LETTER V.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

AMONG the singularities of this place the two
rocky hollow lanes, the one to Alton, and the other
to the forest, deserve our attention. These roads,
running through the malm lands, are, by the traffic
of ages, and the fretting of water, worn down
through the first stratum of our freestone, and partly
through the second; so that they look more like
water-courses than roads; and are bedded with
naked rag for furlongs together. In many places
they are reduced sixteen or eighteen feet beneath
the level of the fields; and after floods, and in frosts,
exhibit very grotesque and wild appearances, from
the tangled roots that are twisted among the strata,
and from the torrents rushing down their broken
sides; and especially when those cascades are frozen
into icicles, hanging in all the fanciful shapes of
frost-work. These rugged, gloomy scenes affright
the ladies when they peep down into them from
the paths above, and make timid horsemen shud-
der while they ride along them; but delight the

naturalist with their various botany, and particu-
I4

larly with the curious filz'ces with which they
abound.

The manor of Selborne, were it strictly looked
after, with all its kindly aspects, and all its sloping
coverts, would swarm with game; even now hares,
partridges, and pheasants abound; and in old days
woodcocks were as plentiful. There are few quails,
because they more. affect open fields than inclosures ;
after harvest some few landrails are seen.

The parish of Selborne, by taking in so much of
the forest, is a vast district. Those who tread the
bounds are employed part of three days inthe busi-
ness, and are of opinion that the outline, in all its
curves and indentings, does not comprise less than
thirty miles.

The village stands in a sheltered spot, secured by
the Hanger from the strong westerly winds. The
air is soft, but rather moist' from the effluvia of so
many trees; yet perfectly healthy and free from
agues

The quantity of rain that falls on it is very con-
siderable, as may be supposed in so woody and
mountainous a district. As my experience in meas-
uring the water is but of short date, I am not quali-
fled to give the mean quantity, but a very intelligent
gentleman assures me (and he Speaks from upwards
of forty years’ experience) that the mean rain of any
place cannot be ascertained till a person has meas-

ured it for a very long period. I only know that
IS

Inch. Hand.
From May I, 1779, to the end of the year there fell . 28 37!

From Jan. I, 1780, to Jan. I, 1781 . . . . . .. . 27 32
From jan. I, 1781, to Jan. 1,1782 . . . . . . . 3o 71
From Jan. I, 1782, to Jan. I, 1783 . . . . . . . 50 26!
From Jan. 1,1783, to Jan. 1,1784 . . . . . . . 33 71
From jan. 1, 1784, to Jan. I, 1785 . . . . . . . 38 80
From Jan. I, 1785, to Jan. 1. I786 . . . . . . . 31 55
From Jan. I, 1786, to Jan. I, 1787 . . . . . . . 39 57

The village of Selborne, and the large hamlet of
Oakhanger, with the single farms, and many scat-
tered houses along the verge of the forest, contain
upwards of six hundred and seventy inhabitants.

\Ve abound with poor; many of whom are sober
and industrious, and live comfortably in good stone
or brick cottages, which are glazed, and have cham-
bers above stairs: mud buildings we have none.
Besides the employment from husbandry, the men
work in hop-gardens, of which we have many; and
fell and bark timber. In the spring and summer
the women weed the corn; and enjoy a second har-
vest in September by hop-picking. Formerly, in the
dead months they availed themselves greatly by
spinning wool, for making of barragons, a genteel
corded stuff, much in vogue at that time for summer
wear; and chiefly manufactured at Alton, a neigh-
bouring town, by some of the people called Quakers.
The inhabitants enjoy a good share of health and
longevity, and the parish swarms with children.

16

LETTER VI.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

SHOULD I omit to describe with some exactness
the Forest of Wolmer, of which three-fifths perhaps
lie in this parish, my account of Selborne would be
very imperfect, as it is a district abounding with
many curious productions, both animal and vege-
table, and has often afforded me much entertainment
both as a sportsman and as a naturalist.

The royal Forest of VVolmer is a tract of land of
about seven miles in length by two-and-a-half in
breadth, running nearly from north to south, and is
abutted on—to begin to the south, and so to pro-
ceed eastward—by the parishes of Greatham, Lysse,
Rogate, and Trotton, in the county of Sussex; by
Bramshot, Hedleigh, and Kingsley. This royalty
consists entirely of sand, covered with heath and
fern; but is somewhat diversified with hills and
dales, without having one standing tree in the whole
extent. In the bottoms, where the waters stagnate,
are many bogs, which formerly abounded with sub-
terraneous trees; though Dr. Plot says positively*
that “there never were any fallen trees hidden in the
mosses of the southern cOunties.” But he was mis-
taken: for I myself have seen cottages on the verge

 

* See his History of Staffordshire.
4 I7

of this wild district whose timbers consisted of a
black hard wood, looking like oak, which the owners
assured me they procured from the bogs by probing
the soil with spits, or some such instruments: but
the peat is so much cut out, and the moors have
been so well examined, that none has been found of
late. Old people, however, have assured me that on
a winter’s morning they have discovered these trees
in the bogs by the hoar frost, which lay longer
over the space where they were concealed than on
the surrounding morass. Nor does this seem to be
a fanciful notion, but consistent with true philosophy.
Besides the oak, I have also been shown pieces of
fossil wood, of a paler colour and softer nature, which
the inhabitants called fir: but, upon a nice exami-
nation, and trial by fire, I could discover nothing res-
inous in them; and therefore rather suppose that
they were parts of a willow or alder, or some such
aquatic tree.

This lonely domain is a very agreeable haunt for
many sorts of wild fowls, which not only frequent
it in the winter, but breed there in the summer ; such
as lapwings, snipes, wild ducks, and, as I have dis-
covered within these few years, teals. Partridges in
vast plenty are bred in good seasons on the verge
of this forest, into which they love to make excur-
sions: and in particular in the dry summer of I740
and 1741, and some years after, they swarmed to

such a degree that parties of unreasonable sports-
18

<2 2R. szNG :

 

 

b/CBi\ill\l:
OF THE

UNIVERSITY
OF

     
    

  

men killed twenty and sometimes thirty brace in a
day.

But there was a nobler species of game in this
forest, now extinct, which I have heard old people
say abounded much before shooting flying became
so common, and that was the heath-cock, or black
game. When I was a little boy I recollect one com-
ing now and then to my father’s table. The last pack
remembered was killed about thirty-five years ago;
and within these ten years one solitary grey hen was
sprung by some beagles in beating for a hare. The
sportsman cried out, “A hen pheasant!” but a gen-
tleman present, who had often seen black game in
the north of England, assured me that it was a grey
hen.

_ Nor does the loss of our black game prove the
only gap in the Fauna Selborm‘msz's; for another
beautiful link in the chain of beings is wanting: I
mean the red-deer, which towards the beginning of
this century amounted to about five hundred head,
and made a stately appearance. There is an old
keeper, now alive, named Adams, whose great-grand-
father (mentioned in apperambulation taken in,1635),
grandfather, father and self, enjoyed the head keeper-
ship of Wolmer FOrest in succession for more than a
hundred years. This person assures me, that his
father has often told him, that Queen Anne, as she
was journeying on the Portsmouth road, did not

think the forest of Wolmer beneath her royal regard.
, Ig

For she came out of the great road at Lippock,
which is just by, and, reposing herself on a bank
smoothed for that purpose, lying about half a mile
to the east of \Volmer Pond, and still called Queen’s
Bank, saw with great complacency and satisfaction
the whole herd of red-deer brought by the keepers
along the vale before her, consisting then of about
five hundred head. A sight this worthy the atten-
tion of the greatest sovereign ! But he farther adds
that, by means of the VValtham blacks, or, to use his
own expression, as soon as they began blacking, they
were reduced to about fifty head, and so continued
decreasing till the time of the late Duke of Cumber-
land. About the year 1737, his highness sent down
a huntsman, and six yeomen-prickers, in scarlet jack-
ets laced with gold, attended by the stag-hounds;
ordering them to take every deer in this forest alive,
and to convey them in carts to Windsor. In the
course of the summer they caught every stag, some
of which showed extraordinary diversion: but, in
the following winter, when the hinds were also car-
ried off, such fine chases were exhibited as served the
country people for matter of talk and wonder for
years afterwards. I saw myself one of the yeomen-
prickers single out a stag from, the herd, and must
confess it was the most curious feat of activity I ever
beheld. The exertions made by the horse and deer
much exceeded all my expectations; though the

former greatly excelled the latter in speed. When
20

the devoted deer was separated from his companions,
they gave him, by their watches, law, as they called
it, for twenty minutes; when, sounding their horns, .
the stop-dogs were permitted to pursue, and a most

gallant scene ensued.

LETTER VII.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

THOUGH large herds of deer do, much harm to
the neighbourhood, yet the injury to the morals of
the people is of more moment than the loss of their
crops. The temptation is irresistible; for most men
are sportsmen by constitution: and there is such an
inherent spirit for hunting in human nature, as scarce
any inhibitions can restrain. Hence, towards the
beginning of this century, all this country was wild
about deer-stealing. Unless he was a hunter, as they
affected to call themselves, no young person was
allowed to be possessed of manhood or gallantry.
The Waltham blacks at length committed such enor-
mities, that Government was forced to interfere with
that severe and sanguinary Act called the Black Act
(9 Geo. I. c. 22), which comprehends more felonies
than any law that ever was framed before. And
therefore, Dr. Hoadley, the Bishop of Winchester,

when urged to re-stock Waltham-chase, refused, from
21 V

a motive worthy of a prelate, replying that “it had
done mischief enough already.”

Our old race of deer-stealers are hardly extinct
yet: it was but a little while ago that they used to
recount, over their ale, the exploits of their youth;
such as watching the pregnant hind to her lair, and,
when the calf was dropped, paring its feet with a
penknife to the quick to prevent its escape, till it was
large and fat enough to be killed; the shooting at
one of their neighbours with a bullet in a turnip-
field by moonshine, mistaking him for a deer; and
the losing a dog in the following extraordinary man-
ner z—Some fellows, suspecting that a calf new-fallen
was deposited in a certain spot of thick fern, went,
with a lurcher. to surprise it; when the parent hind
rushed out of the brake, and, taking a vast spring
with all her feet close together, pitched upon the
neck of the dog, and broke it short in two.

Another temptation to idleness and sporting was
a number of rabbits, which possessed all the hillocks
and dry places; but these being inconvenient to the
huntsmen, on account of their burrows, when they
came to take away the deer they permitted the coun-
try people to destroy them all.

Such forests and wastes, when their allurements
to irregularities are removed, are of considerable
service to neighbourhoods that verge upon them, by
furnishing them with peat and turf for their firing;

with fuel for the burning their lime; and with ashes
22

for their grasses ;'. and by maintaining their geese and
their stock of young cattle at little or no expense.

The manor-farm of the parish of Greatham has
an admitted claim, I see (by an old record taken
from the Tower of London), of turning all live stock
on the forest, at proper seasons, bz'dmz‘z'lzzas excepz‘z’s.
For this privilege the owner of that estate used to
pay to the king annually seven bushels of oats. In
the Holt Forest, where a full stock of fallow-deer
has been kept up till lately, no sheep are admitted.
The reason, I presume, being that sheep are such
close grazers, they would pick out all the finest
grasses, and hinderthe deer from thriving.

Though (by statute 4 and 5 Wm. and Mary, c. 23)
“to burn on any waste, between Candlemas and
Midsummer, any grig, ling, heath, and furze gorse
'or fern, is punishable with whipping and confine-

9

ment in the House of Correction; ’ yet, in this for-
est, about March or April, according to the dryness
of the season, such vast heath-fires are lighted up,
that they often get to a masterless head, and, catch-
ing the hedges, have sometimes been communicated
to the underwoods, woods, and coppiCes, where
great damage has ensued. The plea for these burn-
ings is, that when the old coat of heath, &c., is con-
sumed, young will sprout up and afford much tender
browse for cattle; but, where there is large old
furze, the fire, following the roots, consumes the

very ground ; so that for hundreds of acres nothing
23

is to be seen but smother and desolation, the whole
circuit round looking like the Cinders of a volcano;
and the soil being quite exhausted, no traces of vege-
tation are to be found for years. These conflagra-
tions, as they take place usually with a north-east or
east wind, much annoy this village with their smoke,
and often alarm the country; and, once in particular,
I remember that a gentleman, who lives beyond
Andover, coming to my house, when he got on the
downs between that town and Winchester, at twen-
ty-five miles distance was surprised much with
smoke and a hot smell of fire; and concluded that
Alresford was in flames; but when he» came to that
town, he then had apprehensions for the next Vil-
lage, and so on to the end of his journey.*

On two of the most conspicuous eminences of
this forest stand two arbours or bowers made of the
boughs of oaks; the one called Waldon Lodge, the
other Brimstone Lodge: these the keepers renew

 

* This description reminds the scholar of the stubble-burning described
in Virgil’s “ Georgics," i. 84, Mitford. There is no better fertilizer for
the soil than the ashes of weeds and other vegetable growths, and this
the poet knew. ‘

“ S'aepe etiam steriles incendere profuit agros,
Atque levem stipulam crepitantibus urere flammis :
Sive inde occultas vires et pabula terrae
Pinguia concipiunt."

“ Long practice has a sure improvement found,
\Vith kindled fires to burn the barren ground ;
When the light stubble. to the flames resigned.
Is driven along, and crackles to the wind."—DRYDEN.

24

annually on the feast of St.'Barnabas, taking the old
materials for RPEEQQEIEQ; The farm called Black-
moor, in this parish, is obliged to find the posts and
brushwood for the former; while the farms at Great-
ham, in rotation, furnish for the latter; and are all
enjoined to cut and deliver the materials at the spot.
This custom I mention, because I look upon it to be

of very remote antiquity.

LETTER VIII.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

ON the verge of the forest, as it is now circum-
scribed, are three considerable lakes, two in Oak-
~hanger, of which I have nothing particular to say;
and one called Bin’s, or Bean’s Pond, which is
worthy the attention of a naturalist or a sports-
man. For, being crowded at the upper end with
willows, and with the Carat espz'tosa ,- the sort
which, rising into tall .hassocks, is called by the for-
esters, torrets; a corruption, I suppose, of turrets;
it affords such a safe and pleasing shelter to wild
ducks, teals, and snipes, that they breed there. In
the winter this covert is also frequented by foxes,
and sometimes by pheasants; and the bogs produce
many curious plants.

By a perambulation of- Wolmer Forest and the
25

Holt, made in 1635, and in the eleventh year of
Charles the First (which now lies before me), it
appears that the limits of the former are much cir-
cumscribed. For, to say nothing of the farther side,
with which I am not so well acquainted, the bounds
on this side, in old times, came into Binswood ; and
extended to the ditch of VVardleham Park, in which
stands the curious mount called King John’s Hill,
and Lodge Hill; and to the verge of Hartley Mau-
duit, called Mauduit Hatch; comprehending also
Shortheath, Oakhanger, and Oakwoods; a large dis-
trict, now private property, though once belonging
to the royal domain.

It is remarkable that the term purlieu is never
once mentioned in this long roll of parchment. It
contains, besides the perambulation, a rough estimate
of the value of the timbers, which were consider-
able, growing at that time in the district of the Holt;
and enumerates the officers, superior and inferior,
of those joint forests, for the time being, and their
ostensible fees and perquisites. In those days, as at
present, there were hardly any trees in VVolmer
Forest.

Within the present limits of the forest are three
considerable lakes, Hogmer, Cranmer, and \Volmer;
all of which are stocked with carp, tench, eels, and
perch: but the fish do not thrive well, because the
water is hungry, and the bottoms are a naked sand.

A circumstance respecting these ponds, though
26

by no means peculiar to them, I cannot pass over in

silence; and that is, that instinct by which in sum-

 

If’ulmr'r [’mm’.

mer all the kine, whether oxen, cows. calves, or
heifers, retire constantly to the water during the
hotter hours; where, being more exempt from flies,
and inhaling the coolness of that element, some belly
deep, and some only to mid—leg, they ruminate and
solace themselves from about ten in the morning till
four in the afternoon, and then return to their feed—
ing. During this great proportion of the day they
drop much dung, in which insects nestle; and so
supply food for the fish, which would be poorly sub-
sisted but from this contingency. Thus nature, who

is a great economist, converts the recreation of one
27

animal to the support of another! Thomson, who
was a nice observer of natural occurrences, did not
let this pleasing circumstance escape him. He says,

in his “ Summer,”

“ A various group the herds and flocks c0mpose:
on the grassy bank

Some ruminating lay ; while others stand

Half in the flood, and, often bending, sip

The circling surface.”

 

 

 

Wolmer Pond, so called, I suppose, for eminence
sake, is a vast lake for this part of the world, con-
taining, in its whole circumference, 2,646 yards, or
very near a mile and a half. The length of the
north-west and opposite side is about 704 yards, and
the breadth of the south-west end about 456 yards.
This measurement, which I caused to be made with
good exactness, gives an area of about sixty-six
acres, exclusive of a large irregular arm at the north-
east corner, which we did not take into the reck-
oning.

On the face of this expanse of waters, and per-
fectly secure from fowlers, lie all day long, in the
winter season, vast flocks of ducks, teals, and wid-
geons, of various denominations; where they preen
and solace and rest themselves, till towards sunset,
when they issue forth in little parties (for in their
. natural state they are all birds of the night) to feed
in the brooks and meadows; returning again with the

dawn of the morning. Had this lake an arm or two
28

more, and were it planted round with thick covert
(for now it is perfectly naked), it might make a valu-
able decoy.

Yet neither its extent, nor the clearness of its
water, nor the resort of various and curious fowls,
nor its picturesque groups of cattle, can render this
meer so remarkable as the great quantity of coins
that were found in its bed about forty years ago.* ‘

LETTER IX.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

BY way of supplement, I shall trouble you once
more on this subject, to inform you that Wolmer,
_with her sister forest Ayles Holt, alias Alice l-IoltqL

 

* The circumstances under which these coins were discovered are
thus related in the author’s “Antiquities of Selborne:’—“ In the very
dry summers of 1740 and 41, the bed of this lake became as dry and
dusty as the surrounding heath ; and some of the forest cottagers, remem-
bering stories of coins found by their fathers and grandfathers, began to
search also, and with great success; they found great heaps of coin, one
lying on the other, as shot there out of a bag, many of them in good
preservation. They consisted solely of Roman copper coin in hundreds.
and some medals of the Lower Empire. The neighbouring gentry and
clergy chose what they liked, and some dozens fell to the author, chiefly
of Marcus Aurelius and the Empress Faustina. Those of Faustina were
in high relief, exhibiting agreeable features, and the medals of a paler
colour than the coins.”

+ “ In Rot. Inquisit. de statu forest. in Scaccar. 36 Ed. 3, it is called
Aisholt.” In “Tit. Wolmer and Aisholt Hantisc,” we are told “the
Lord King had one Chapel in his park at Kingesle.” “Dbmz’nus Rex

29

as it is called in old records, is held by grant from
the Crown for a term of years.

The grantees that the author remembers are
Brigadier-General Emanuel Scroope Howe, and his
lady, Ruperta, who was a natural daughter of Prince
Rupert by Margaret Hughs ; a Mr. Mordaunt, of the
Peterborough family, who married a dowager Lady
Pembroke; Henry Bilson Legge and lady; and now
Lord Stawel, their son.

The lady of General Howe lived to an advanced
age, long surviving her husband; and, at her death,
left behind her many curious pieces of mechanism of
her father’s constructing, who was a distinguished
mechanic and artist, as well as warrior; and, among
the rest, a very complicated clock, lately in posses-
sion of Mr. Elmer, the celebrated game-painter at
Farnham, in the county of Surrey.

Though these two forests are only parted by a
narrow range of inclosures, yet no two soils can be
more different: for the Holt consists of a strong
loam, of a miry nature, carrying a good turf, and
abounding with oaks that grow to be large timber;
while \Volmer is nothing but a hungry, sandy, barren
waste.

The former, being all in the parish of Binsted, is
about two miles in extent from north to south, and

 

meet mmm awe/lam in 110122 sud a’e A'z'ngesle.." “Haia, 58pm, sepimerztum,
parcus; a Gall. /zaz'a and lzvzye.”—-—SI’I«:L.VIAN’S 6105500. p. 272.
30

nearly as much from east to west; and contains
within it many woodlands and lawns, and the great
lodge where the grantees reside; and a smaller
lodge called Goose-green; and is abutted on by the
parishes of Kingsley, Frinsham, Farnham, and Bent-
ley; all of which have right of common.

One thing is remarkable, that though the Holt
has been of old well stocked with fallow-deer, unre-
strained by any pales or fences more than a common
hedge, yet they were never seen within the limits of
Wolmer; nor“ were the red-deer of VVolmer ever
known to haunt the thickets or glades of the Holt.

At present the deer of the Holt are much thinned
and reduced by the night-hunters, who perpetually
harass them in spite of the efforts of numerous keep-
ers, and the severe penalties that have been put in
force against them as often as they have been de-
tected and rendered liable to the lash of the law.
Neither fines nor imprisonments can deter them; so
impossible is it to extinguish the spirit of sporting,
which seems to be inherent in human nature.

General Howe turned out some German wild
boars and sows in his forests, to the great terror of
the neighbourbood; and, at one time, a wild bull or
buffalo: but the country rose upon them and de-
stroyed them.*

 

* German boars and sows were also turned out in the New Forest by
Charles the First, which bred and increased: and their stock is supposed
to exist still.—M1TF0RD.

5 3I

A very large fall of timber, consisting of about
one thousand oaks, has been cut this spring (viz.,
1784) in the Holt forest; one-fifth of which, it is said,
belongs to the grantee, Lord Stawel. He lays claim
also to the lop and tOp; but the poor of the parishes
of Binsted and Frinsham, Bentley and Kingsley,
assert that it belongs to them; and assembling in a
riotous manner, have actually taken it all away;
One man, who keeps a team, has carried home, for
his share, forty stacks of wood. Forty-five of these
people his lordship has served with actions. These
trees, which were very sound and in high perfection,
were winter-cut, viz., in February and March, before
the bark would run. In old times, the Holt was esti-
mated to be eighteen miles, computed measure, from
water carriage, viz., from the town of Chertsey, on
the Thames; but now it is not half that distance,
since the \Vey is made navigable up to the town of
Godalming, in the county of Surrey.

LETTER X.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

IT has been my misfortune never to have had any
neighbour whose studies have led him towards the
pursuit of natural knowledge; so that, for want of a

companion to quicken my industry and sharpen my
32

attention, I have made but slender progress in a kind
of information to which I have been attached from
my childhood.

As to swallows (Hz'rmm’z'lu‘s mslz'm’) being found
ina torpid state during the winter in the Isle of

 

()m' aft/1x zi/d .S'r/lmrm’ lznlm‘r.

W'ight, or any part of this country, 1 never heard
any such account worth attending to. But a clergy-
man, of an inquisitive turn, assures me that, when he
was a great boy, some workmen, in pulling down
the battlements of a church tower early in the
spring, found two or three swifts (Hz'rmm’z'lm (modes)
among the rubbish, which seemed, at their first ap-

pearance, dead; but, on being carried towards the
33

fire, revived. He told me that, out of his great care
to preserve them, he put them in a paper bag, and
hung them by the kitchen fire, where they were
suffocated.

Another intelligent person has informed me that,
while he was a schoolboy at Brighthelmstone, in
Sussex, a great fragment of the chalk cliff fell down
one stormy winter on the beach, and that many peo-
ple found swallows among'the rubbish; but, on my
questioning him whether he saw any of those birds
himself, to my no small disappointment he answered
me in the negative, but that others assured him they
did.

Young broods of swallows began to appear this
year on July the eleventh, and young martins (Hi-
rzma’z'nes urbz'cae) were then fledged in their nests.
Both species will breed again once; for I see by my
fauna of last year, that young broods came forth so
late as September the eighteenth. Are not these
late hatchings more in favour of hiding than migra-
tion? Nay, some young martins remained in their
nests last year so late as September the twenty-
ninth; and yet they totally disappeared with us by
the fifth of October. How strange it is that the
swift, which seems to live exactly the same life with
the swallow and house-martin, should leave us before
the middle of August invariably! while the latter
stay often till the middle of October; once I. even

saw numbers of house-martins on the seventh of No-
34

vember. The martins, redwings, and fieldfares were
flying in sight together; an uncommon assemblage
of summer and winter birds!

[It is not easy to discover whether White really
believes in the hybernation of swallows or not; he
clings to the idea, and returns to it, although his
own arguments seem to refute the notion almost as
completely as those of any recent author. Writing
twenty years later than the date of this letter, he
tells us, in his Observations on Nature, March 23,
1788, that a gentleman who was this week on a visit
at Waverly, took the opportunity of examining some
of the holes in the sand-bank with which that district
abounds. As these are undoubtedly bored by bank
martins, and there they avowedly breed, he was-in
\ hopes that" they might have slept there also, and
that he might have surprised them just as they were
waking from their winter slumbers. “ When we had
dug for some time,” he says, “we found the holes
were horizontal and serpentine, as I had observed
before; and that the nests were deposited at the
inner end, and had been occupied by broods in for-
(mer summers, but no torpid birds were to be found.
The same search was made many years ago with as
little success.” March 2, 1793, Mr. White adds, “A
single sand-martin was seen hovering and playing
round the sandpit at Short-heath, where they abound
in summer. April 9, 1793, a sober herd assures me.

that this day he saw several on West Hanger com-
35

mon, between Hadleigh and Frensham, several sand-
martins playing in and out and hanging before some
nest-holes where the birds nestle.

“This incident confirms my suspicions, that this
species of lzz'rzmdo is to be seen the first of any, and
gives reason to suppose that they do not leave their
wild haunts at all, but are secreted amidst the clefts
and caverns of these abrupt cliffs. The late severe
weather considered, it is not very probable that
these birds should have migrated so early from a
tropical region, through all these cutting winds and
pinching frosts; but it is easy to suppose that they
may, like bats and flies, have been awakened by the
influence of the sun, amidst their secret [alebrae
where they have spent the uncomfortable foodless
months in a torpid state, and in the profoundest
slumbers.

“There is a large pond at West Hanger which
induces these sand-martins to frequent the district;
for I have ever remarked that they haunt near great
waters, either rivers or lakes.”

A year later, he says, “During the severe winds
that often prevail late in the spring, it is not easy to
say how the lzz'rmzdz'm’s subsist: for they withdraw
themselves, and are hardly ever seen, ncr do any in-
sects appear for their support. That they can retire
to rest and sleep away these uncomfortable periods
as bats do, is a matter rather suspected than proved ;

or do they not rather spend their time in deep and
36 ‘

sheltered vales near waters where insects are to be
found? Certain it is that hardly any individuals
have, at such times, been seen for days together.

“September 13, 1791, the congregating flocks of
kz'rundz'nes on the church and tower are both beauti-
ful and amusing. When they fly off together from
‘the roof on any alarm, they quite swarm in the air.
But they soon settle again in heaps, and pulling their
feathers and lifting up their wings to admit the sun,
they seem to enjoy the warm situation. Thus they
spend the heat of the day, preparing for their mi-
gration, and, as it were, consulting when and where
they are to go. The flight about the church seems
to consist chiefly of house-martins, about 400 in num-
ber; but there are other places of rendezvous about
the village frequented at the same time. It is re-
markable that, though most of them sit on the battle-
ments and roof, yet many of them hang or cling for
some time by their claws against the surface of the
walls in a manner not practised by them at other
times of their remaining with us. The swallows
seem to delight more in holding their assemblies on
trees.

“November 3, 1789, the swallows were seen this
morning, at Newton Vicarage house, hovering and
settling on the roofs and outbuildings. None have
been observed at Selborne since October 11. It is
very remarkable that after the Izz'rundz'nes have disap-

peared for some weeks, a few are occasionally seen
37

again; sometimes in the first week of November,
-and that only for one day. Do they not withdraw
and slumber in some hiding-place during the inter-
val? for we cannot suppose they had migrated to
warmer climes, and returned again for one day. Is
it not more probable that they are awakened from
sleep, and like the bats are come-forth to collect
a little food? These swallows looked like young
Ones."]

A little yellow bird (the [11027152714 trot/127215) still
continues to make a sibilous shivering noise in the
tops of tall woods. The stoparo/a of Ray is called,
in your Zoology, the fly-catcher. There is one cir-
cumstance characteristic of this bird, which seems to
have escaped observation, and that is, it takes its
stand on the top of some stake or post, from whence
it springs forth on its prey, catching a fly in the air,
and hardly ever touching the ground, but returning
still to the same stand for many times together.

I perceive there are more than one species of the
lilotacz'l/a which visits us. Mr. Derham supposes, in
Ray's “ Philos. Letters,” that he has discovered
three. In these there is again an instance of some
very common birds that have as yet no English.
name. '

Mr. Stillingfieet makes a question whether the
blackcap (ll/m‘aczY/zz atrz'm/u'l/a) be a bird Of passage
or not: I think there is no doubt of it: for, in April,

in the first fine weather, they come trooping, all at
38

 

once, into these parts, but are never seen in the win-
ter. They are delicate songsters.

Numbers of snipes breed every summer in some
moory ground r 777 7 L777 7,, _
on the verge of
this parish. It
is very amusing
to see the cock
bird On wing at
that time. and
to hear his pip—

ing and hum-

 

ming notes.

A xiii/it.

I have had
no opportunity yet of procuring any of those mice
which I mentioned to you in town. The person
that brought me the last says they are plentiful in
harvest, at which time I will take care to get more;
and will endeavour to put it out of doubt whether
it be a nondescript species or not.

I suspect much there may be two species of
water—rats. Ray says. and Linnzeus after him. that
the water-rat is web—footed behind. Now I have dis-
covered a rat on the banks of our little stream that
is not web-footed, and yet is an excellent swimmer
and diver: it answers exactly to the film (Izziyv/zz'bz'z/x
of Linnzeus, which, he says, swims and dives in
ditches, “natat in fossis et urinatur." I should be

glad to procure “one with the feet feathering out
39

like a palm,” “19/472221: palmatz's.” Linnaeus seems to
be in a puzzle about his Mus amp/zz'bz'us, and to‘doubt
whether it differs from his Mus terrestrz's, which if it
be, as he allows, the “mus agrestis capite grandi
brachyurus,” a field-mouse, with “a large head and
a short tail,” is widely different from the water-rat,
both in size, make, and manner of life.

As to the falco, which I mentioned in town,l
shall take the liberty to send it down to you into
Wales; presuming on your candour, that you will
excuse me if it should appear as familiar to you as it
is strange to me. “Though mutilated, such as you
would say it had formerly been, seeing that the re-

9’

mains are what they are, “qua/rm dices . . . ante/lac
fuz'sse‘, tales cum sz'm‘ relz'qzzz'ae ./ "

It haunted a marshy piece of ground in quest of
wild ducks and snipes; but when it was shot, had
just knocked down a rook, which it was tearing in
pieces. I cannot make it answer to any of our Eng-
lish hawks; neither could I find any like it at the
~ curious exhibition of stuffed birds in Spring Gar-
dens. I found it nailed up at the end of a barn,
which is the countryman’s museum.

The parish I live in is a very abrupt, uneven coun-

try, full of hills and woods, and therefore full of birds.

August 4, I767.

[In severe weather, fieldfares, redwings, skylarks,

and titlarks resort to watered meadows for food ; the
40

latter wades up to its belly in pursuit of the pupae of
insects, and runs along upon the floating grass and
weeds. Many gnats are on the snow near the water;
these support the birds in part.

Birds are much influenced in their choice of food
by colour, for though white currants are a much
sweeter fruit than red, yet they seldom touch the
former till they have devoured every bunch of the
latter.

Redstarts, fiy-catchers, and blackcaps arrive early
in April. If these little delicate beings are birds of
passage, how could they, feeble as they seem, bear
up against such storms of snow and rain, and make
their way through such meteorous turbulences as
one should suppose would embarrass and retard the
most hardy and resolute of the winged nation?
Yet they keep their appointed times and seasons;
and in spite of frosts and winds return to their
stations periodically, as if they had met with
nothing to obstruct them. The withdrawing and
reappearing of the short-winged summer birds
is a very puzzling circumstance in natural his-
tory! '

When the boys bring me wasps’ nests, my ban-
tam fowls fare deliciously, and when the combs are
pulled to pieces, devour the young wasps in their '
maggot state with the highest glee and delight. Any
insect-eating bird would do the same. Birds of

prey occasionally feed on insects: thus have I seen
41

a tame kite picking up the female ants full of
eggs with much satisfaction.]—'OBSERVATIONS ON
NATURE.

LETTER XI.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

IT will not be without impatience that I shall
wait for your thoughts with regard to the falco; as
to its weight, breadth, &c. I wish I had set them
down at the time; but, to the best of my remem-
brance, it weighed two pounds and eight ounces, and
‘ measured, from wing to wing, thirty-eight inches.-
Its cere and feet were yellow, and the circle of its
eyelids a bright yellow. As it had been killed some
days, and the eyes were sunk, I could make no good
observation on the colour of the pupils and the
irides.*

The most unusual birds I ever observed in these
parts were a pair of Hoopoes (upupa), which came
several years ago in the summer, and frequented an
ornamented piece of ground, which joins to my gar-
den, for some weeks. They used to march about in
a stately manner, feeding in the walks many times in
the day, and seemed disposed to breed in my outlet;
but were frighted and persecuted by idle boys, who
would never let them be at rest.

 

* The irides are brown in all the British falcons.
42

Three grosbeaks (Loxz'a coccol/zrausles) appeared
some years ago in my fields, in the winter; one of
which I shot; since that, now and then, one is occa-
sionally seen in the same dead season.

[Mr. B. shot a cock grosbeak which he had ob-
served to haunt his garden for more than a fortnight.
I began to accuse this bird of making sad havoc among
the buds of the cherries, gooseberries, and wall-fruit
of all the neighbouring orchards. Upon opening its
crop or craw, however, no buds were to be seen, but
a mass of kernels of the stones of fruits. Mr. B. ob-
served that this bird frequented the spot where plum-
trees grow; and that he had seen it with somewhat
hard in its mouth, which it broke with difficulty;
these were the stones of damsons. The Latin orni-
thologists call this bird coccot/zmzzsz‘es, i. e., berry-
breaker, because with its large horny beak it cracks
‘and breaks the shells of stone-fruits for the sake of
the seed or kernel. Birds of this sort are rarely seen
in England, and only in winter.]—OBSERVATIONS ON
NATURE.

A cross-bill (Loxz'a curw'rosz‘m) was killed last year
in this neighbourhood.

Our streams, which are small, and rise only at the
end of the village, yield nothing but the bull’s head,*
or miller’s thumb (Goéz'us fluvz’alz'lz's capz'z‘az‘us), the
trout (Trm‘m flzwz'az‘z'lz's), the eel (nguz'l/a), the lam-

*Sa/mo farz'o. Linn.

43

3

pern (Lampz’tra parva ez‘ fluvz'ati/z's), and the stickle-
back (Pz'scz'culus aculmtus).

We are twenty miles from the sea, and almost
as many from a great river, and therefore see but
little of sea-birds. As to wild fowls, we have a few
teams of ducks bred in the moors where the snipes
breed; and multitudes of widgeons and teals fre—
quent our lakes in the forest in hard weather.

Having some acquaintance with a tame brown
owl, I find that it casts up the fur of mice and the
feathers of birds in pellets, after the manner of
hawks: when full, like a dog, it hides what it can-
not eat.

The young of the barn owl are not easily raised,
as they want a constant supply of fresh mice : where-
as the young of the brown owl will eat indiscrim-
inately all that is brought; snails, rats, kittens, pup-
pies, magpies, and any kind of carrion or offal.

The house-martins have eggs still, and squab-
young. The last swift 'I observed was about the
twenty-first of August; it was a straggler.

Redstarts, fly-catchers, white-throats, and gold-
crested wrens, raga/2' 71072 crz'staz‘z', still appear; butI
have seen no blackcaps lately.

I forgot to mention that I once saw, in Christ
Church college quadrangle in Oxford, on a very
sunny, warm morning, a house-martin flying about,
and settling on the parapet, so late as the twentieth

of November.
44

At present I know only two species of bats, the
common Vespertz'lz'o marinas and the Vespertz'lio au-
rz'tus. .

I was much entertained last summer with a tame
bat, which would take flies out of a person’s hand.
If you gave it anything to eat, it brought its wings
round before the mouth, hovering and hiding its
head in the manner of birds of prey when they feed.
The adroitness it showed in shearing off the wings of
flies, which were always rejected, was worthy of ob-
servation, and pleased me much. Insects seemed to
be most acceptable, though it did not refuse raw
flesh when offered: so that the notion that bats go
down chimneys and gnaw men’s bacon seems no im-
probable story. While I amused myself with this
wonderful quadruped, I saw it several times confute
the vulgar opinion, that bats when down on a flat sur-
face cannot get on the wing again, by rising with
great ease from the floor. It ran, I observed, with
more despatch than I was aware of; but in a most
ridiculous and grotesque manner.

Bats drink on the wing, like swallows, by sipping
the surface, as they play over pools and Streams.
They love to frequent waters, not only for the sake
of drinking, but on account of the insects which are
found over them in the greatest plenty. As I was
going, some years ago, pretty late, in a boat from
Richmond to Sunbury, on a warm summer’s evening,

I think I saw myriads of bats between the two
45

places : the air swarmed with them all along the
Thames, so that hundreds were in sight at a time.

SELBORNE, Sept. 9, 1767.

LETTER. XII.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

lT gave me no small satisfaction to hear that the
fa/co turned out an uncommon one. I must confess
I should have been better pleased to have heard that
' Iliad sent you a bird that you had never seen be-
fore; but that I find would be a difficult task.

I have procured some of the mice mentioned in
my former letters, a young one and a female with
young, both of which I have preserved in brandy.
From the colour, shape, size, and manner of nesting,
I make no doubt but that the species is nondescript.
They are much smaller, and more slender, than the
.Mzzs a’mzzcsz‘z'ms vzzydz'us of Ray; and have more of the
squirrel or dormouse colour: their belly is white; a
straight line along their sides divides the shades of
their back and belly. They never enter into houses;
are carried into ricks and barns with the sheaves;
abound in harvest; and build their nests amidst the
straws of the corn above the ground, and sometimes
in thistles. They breed as many as eight at a litter,
in a little round nest, composed of the blades of grass

or wheat.
46

One of these nests I procured this autumn, most -
artificially platted, and composed of the blades of
wheat; perfectly round, and about the size of a
cricket-ball ; with "the aperture so ingeniously closed,
that there was no "discovering to what part it be-
longed. It was so cOmpact and well filled, that it
would roll across the table without being discom-
posed, though it contained eight little mice that were -
naked and blind. As this nest was perfectly full,
how could the dam come at her litter respectively,
so as to administer a teat to each? Perhaps she
opens different places for that purpose, adjusting
them again when the business is over; but she Could
not possibly be contained herself in the ball with
her young, which, moreover, would be daily in-
creasing in bulk. This wonderful procreant cra-
dle, and elegant instance of the efforts of instinct,
was found in a wheatfield, suspended in the head of
a thistle.

A gentleman curious in birds wrote me word that
his servant had shot one last January, in that severe
weather, which he believed would puzzle me. I
called to see it this summer, not knowing what to ex-
pect: but the moment I took it in hand, I pronounced
it the male Garry/us Bo/zemz'czzs, or German silk-tail,
from the five peculiar crimson tags or points which
it carries at the ends of five of the" short rmzzges. It
cannot, I suppose, with any propriety be called an

English bird: and yet I see, by Ray’s “Philosophi-
6 47

cal Letters." that great flocks of them appeared
in this kingdom in the winter of 1685, feeding on
haws.

The mention of haws puts me in mind that there
is a total failure of that wild fruit‘ so conducive to
the support of many of the winged nation. For the
same severe weather, late in the spring. which Cut off
all the produce of
the more tender
and curious trees,
destroyed also that
of the more hardy
and common.

Some birds,
haunting with the
missel—thrushes. and
feeding on the her-
ries of the yew-tree.
which answered to
the description of
the 41/(7'11/11 fun/1mm.

 

or ring—ouzel. were

7711'grva/u‘rv in My r/zm‘r/Iiulm’.

lately seen in this

neighlit)urhood. I employed some people to procure
me a specimen. but without success.

valr.~t\light not Canary—birds be naturalized to

this climate, provided their eggs were put. in the

Spring. into the nests of some of their congeners. as

goldfinehes. greenfinches. &c.? Before winter per-

4:

haps they might be hardened, and able to shift for
themselves. ‘

About ten years ago I used to spend some weeks
yearly at Sunbury, which is one of those pleasant
villages lying on the Thames, near Hampton Court.
In the autumn, I could not help being much amused
with those myriads of the swallow kind which as.
semble in those parts. But what struck me most
was, that, from the time they began to congregate,
forsaking the chimneys and houses, they roosted
every night in the osier-beds of the aits of that river.
Now this resorting towards that element, at that sea-
son of the year, seems to give some countenance to
the northern opinion (strange as it is) of their retiring
under water. A Swedish naturalist is so much per-
suaded of that fact, that he talks, in his “Calendar of
Flora,” as familiarly of the swallow’s going under
Water in the beginning of September, as he would of
his poultry going to roost a little before sunset.

An observing gentleman "in London writes me
word that he saw a house-martin, on the twenty-
third of last October, flying in and out of its nest in
the Borough: and I myself, on the twenty-ninth of
last October (as I was travelling through Oxford),
saw four or five swallOws hovering round and set-
tling on the roof of the county hospital.

Now, is it likely that these poor little birds
(which perhaps had not been hatched but a few

' weeks) should, at that late season of the year, and
' 49

from so midland a county, attempt a voyage to
Goree or Senegal, almost as far as the equator? I
acquiesce entirely in your opinion—that, though
most of the swallow kind may migrate, yet that some
do stay behind, and hide with us during the winter.

As to the short-winged soft-billed birds which
come trooping in such numbers in the spring, I am
at a loss even what to think about them. I watched
them narrowly this year, and saw them abound till
about Michaelmas, when they appeared no longer.
Subsist they cannot openly among us and yet elude
the eyes of the inquisitive: and, as to their hiding,
no man pretends to have found any of them in a tor-
pid state in winter. But with regard to their migra:
tion, what difficulties attend that supposition: that
such feeble bad fliers (who the summer long never
flit but from hedge to hedge) should be able to
traverse vast seas and continents, in order to enjoy
milder seasons amidst the regions of Africa!

A’oz'c'm/u'r 4. I 767.

LETTER XIII.

To THOMAs PENNANT, ESQ.

As in one of your former letters you expressed
the more satisfaction from my correspondence on
account of my living in the most southerly county;

so now I may return the compliment, and expect to
so

have my curiosity gratified by your living much
more to the north.

For many years past I have observed that
towards Christmas vast flocks of chaffinches have
appeared in the fields; many more, I used to think,
than could be hatched in any one neighbourhood.
But, when I came to observe them more narrowly, I
was amazed to find that they seemed to me to be i
almost all hens. I communicated my suspicions to
some intelligent neighbours, who, after taking pains
about the matter, declared that they also thought
them mostly all females; at least fifty to one. This
extraordinary occurrence brought to my mind the
remark of Linnaeus, that “ before winter all their hen
chaffinches migrate through Holland into Italy.”
Now I want to know, from some curious person in
the north, whether there are any large flocks of these
finches with them in the winter, and of which sex
they mostly consist? For, from such intelligence,
one might be able to judge whether our female
flocks migrate from the other end of the island, or
whether they come over to us from the Continent.

We have, in the winter, vast flocks of the com-
mon linnets; more, I think, than can be bred in any
one district. TheSe, I observe, when the spring ad-
vances, assemble on some tree, in the sunshine, and
join all in a gentle sort of chirping, as if they were
about to break up.their winter quarters and betake'

themselves to their proper summer homes. It is
SI

well known, at least, that this is the signal of depar-
ture with the swallows and the fieldfares, which con-
gregate with a gentle twittering before they take
their respective departure.

You may depend on it that the bunting (Emberz'za
712272227222) does not leave this country in the winter.
In January, 1767, I saw several dozen of them, in the
midst of a severe frost, among the bushes on the
downs near Andover: in our woodland inclosed dis-
trict it is a rare bird. .

Wagtails, both white and yellow, are with us all
the winter. Quails crowd to our southern coast, and
are often killed in numbers by people that go on
purpose.

Mr. Stillingfleet, in his Tracts, says that “if the
wheatear (candid/w) does not quit England, it certainly
shifts places; for about harvest. they are not to be
found, where there was before great plenty of them.”
This well accounts for the vast quantities that are
caught about that time on the south downs near
Lewes, where they are esteemed a delicacy. There
have been shepherds, I have been credibly informed,
that have made many pounds in a season by catching
them in traps. And though such multitudes are
taken, I never saw (and I am well acquainted with
those parts) above two or three at a time: for they
are never gregarious. They may perhaps migrate
in general; and, for that purpose, draw towards the

coast of Sussex in autumn: but that they do not all
52

withdraw I am sure: because I see a few stragglers
in many counties, at all times of the year, especially
about warrens and stone-quarries.

I have no acquaintance, at present, among the
gentlemen of the navy: but have written to a friend,
who was a sea-chaplain in the late war, desiring him
to look into his minutes, with respect to birds that
settled on their rigging during their voyage up or
down the Channel. What Hasselquist says on that
subject is remarkable: there were little short-winged
birds frequently coming on board his ship all the
way from our Channel quite up to the Levant, espe-
cially before squally weather.

What you suggest with regard to Spain is highly
probable. The winters of Andalusia are so mild, that,
in all likelihood, the soft-billed birds that leave us at
that season, may find insects sufficient to support
them there.

Some young men, possessed of fortune, health,
and leisure, should make an autumnal voyage into
that kingdom; and should spend a year there, in-
vestigating the natural history of that vast country.
Mr. Willughby passed through that kingdom on such
an errand; but he seems to have skirted .along in a
superficial manner and an ill-humour, being much
disgusted at the rude dissolute manners of the
people.

I have no friend left now at Sunbury to apply

to about the swallows roosting on the aits of the
53

Thames: nor can I hear any more about those birds
which I suspected were ‘l/rrn/(c forqszw.

As to the small mice, I have further to remark,
that though they hang their nests for breeding up
amidst the straws of the standing corn, above the

 

x1 rr‘ru-rir/c in . Qv'lmz fhrnrt'nru’.

ground: yet I find that. in the winter, they burrow
deep in the earth, and make warm beds of grass: but
their grand rendezvous seems to be in corn-ricks,
into which they are carried at harvest. A neighbour
housed an oatmick lately. under the thatch of which
were assembled near an hundred, most of which were

taken; and some I saw. I measured them, and found
54

that from nose to tail, they were just two inches and
a quarter, and their tails just two inches long. Two
of them, in a scale, weighed down just one copper
halfpenny, which is about the third of an ounce avoir- '
dupois: so that I suppose they are the smallest quad-
rupeds in this island. A full grown Mus maz'z'zw do-
mestz'cus weighs, I find, one ounce lumping weight,
which is more than six times as much as the mouse
above; and measures from nose to rump four inches
and a quarter, and the same in its tail. We have had
a very severe frost and deep snow this month. My
thermometer was one day fourteen degrees and a half
below the freezing point, within doors. The tender
evergreens were injured pretty much. It was very
providential that the air was still, and the ground
well covered with snow, else vegetation ingeneral
musthave suffered prodigiously. There is reason to
believe that some days were more severe than any
since the year 1739—40,

SELBORNE, fan. 22. I768.

- LETTER XIV.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

IF some curious gentleman would procure the
head of a fallow deer, and have it dissected, he

would find it furnished with two spiracula, or
55

breathing-places, besides the nostrils; probably anal-
ogous to the pzmcta [ac/zryma/z'a in the human head.
When deer are thirsty they plunge their noses, like
some horses, very deep under water while in the act
of drinking, and continue them in that situation for a
considerable time: but to obviate any inconveniency,
they can open two vents, one at the inner corner of
each eye, having a communication with the nose.
Here seems to be an extraordinary provision of
nature worthy our attention; and which has not,
that I know of, been noticed by any naturalist. For
it looks as if these creatures would not be suffocated
though both their mouths and nostrils were stopped.
This curious formation of the head may be of singu-
lar service to beasts of chase, by affording them free
respiration: and no doubt these additional nostrils
are thrown Open when they are hard run.* Mr. Ray
observed that at Malta the owners slit up the nostrils
of such asses as were hard worked: for they being
naturally strait or small, did not admit air sufficient
to serve them when they travelled, or laboured, in
that hot climate. And we know that grooms, and
gentlemen of the turf, think large nostrils necessary,
and a perfection in hunters and running horses.

 

* In answer to this account. Mr. Pennant sent me the following curi-
ous and pertinent reply :——“I was much surprised to find in the antelope
something analogous to what you mention as so remarkable in deer. This
animal also has a long slit beneath each eye, which can be opened and
shut at pleasure. On holding an orange to one, the creature made as.

56

Oppian, the Greek poet, by the following line,
seems to have had some notion that stags have four
spiraculaz—

A I
“ Te'rpafit'moi 'pwes, wio‘upes «var/1m Stat/A04."

“ Quadrifidae nares, quadruplices ad respirationem canales.”
Opp. Cyn. Lib. ii. 1. I81.
(“Nostrils split in four divisions, fourfold passages
for breathing”)

Writers, copying from one another, make Aris-
totle say that goats breathe at their ears; whereas
he asserts just the contrary: “’AXx/Lat'wv ryc‘lp oz’m
30mg?) Ké'yeo, (pd/Levos civa’m'vew 7&9 aZvyc‘Ls‘ 1‘6de 7'21, (in-a."
“Alcmaeon does not advance what is true, when he
avers that goats breathe through their ears.”—HIS-
TORY OF ANIMALS, Book i, ch. xi.

SELBORNE, Marc/z 12. I768.

LETTER XV.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

SOME intelligent country-people have a nOtion
that we have in these parts a species of the genus
mustelz'num, besides the weasel, stoat, ferret, and'pole-
cat; a little reddish beast, not much bigger than a

 

much use of those orifices as ofmhis nostrils, applying them to the fruit,
and seeming to smell it' thrOugh them.”—-WHITE.

57

field mouse, but much longer, which they call a cane.
This piece of intelligence can be little depended on;
but further inquiry may be made.

A gentleman in this neighbourhood had two
milk-white rooks in one nest. A booby of a carter,
finding them before they were unable to fly, threw
them down and destroyed them, to the regret of the
owner, who would have been glad to have preserved

such a curiosity in

 

his rookery. I saw
the birds myself
nailed against the
end of a barn, and
was surprised to
find that their bills,

legs, feet, and claws

 

were milk-white.

 

[Rooks are con-

A 70/1 z'fa r001:

tinually fighting
and pulling each other's nests to pieces: these
proceedings are inconsistent with living in such
close community. And yet if a pair offer to build
on a single tree, the nest is plundered and demol-
ished at once. Some rooks roost on their nest
trees. The twigs which the rooks drop in build-
ing supply the poor with brushwood to light their
'fires. Some unhappy pairs are not permitted to
finish any nest till the rest have completed their

building. As soon as they get a few sticks together,
58

a party comes and demolishes the whole. As soon
as rooks have finished their nests, and before they
lay, the cocks begin to feed the hens, who receive
their bounty with a fondling tremulous voice and
fluttering wings, and all the little blandishments that
are expressed by the young while in a helpless
state. This gallant deportment of the males is con-
tinued through the whole season of incubation.
These birds do not copulate on trees, nor in their
nests, but on the ground in the open fields] *

A shepherd saw, as he thought, some white larks
on a down above my house this winter: were not
these the Eméarz'zcz mild/2's, the snow-flake 0f the Brit.
2001.? No doubt they were.

A few years ago I saw a cock bullfinch in a cage,
which had been caught in the fields after it was
come to its full colours. In about a year it began to
look dingy; and blackening every succeeding year,
it became coal-black at the end of four. Its chief
food was hempseed. Such influencehas food on the
colour of animals! The pied and mottled colours of
domesticated animals are supposed to be owing to
high, various, and unusual food.

I had remarked for years that the root of the

 

* After the first brood of rooks are sufficiently fledged, they all resort
to some ”distant place in search of food, but return regularly every even-
ing, in vast flights, to their nest trees, where, after flying round with
much noise and clamour, till they are. all assembled together, they take
up their abode for the night.—MARKWICK. \

59 \

cuckoo-pint (arum) was frequently scratched out of
the dry banks of hedges, and eaten in severe snowy
weather. After observing, with some exactness, my-
self, and getting others to do the same, we found it
was the thrush kind that searched it out. The root
of the mum is remarkably warm and pungent.

Our flocks of female chaffinches have not yet
forsaken us. The blackbirds and thrushes are very
much thinned down by that fierce weather in Jan-
uary. ‘

In the middle of February I discovered, in my
tall hedges, a little bird that raised my curiosity; it
was of that yellow-green colour that belongs to the
sa/z'carz'a kind, and I think was soft-billed. It was no
paras; and was too long and too big for the golden-
crowned wren, appearing most like the largest wil-
low-wren. It hung sometimes with its back down-
wards, but never continuing one moment in the same
place. I shot at it, but it was so desultory that I
missed my aim.

I wonder that the stone-curlew, C/zaraa’rim oedz'c-
mums, should be mentioned by writers as a rare bird:
it abounds in all the campaign parts of Hampshire
and Sussex, and breeds, I think, all the summer, hav-
ing young ones, I know, very late in the autumn.
Already they begin clamouring in the evening.
They cannot, I think, with any propriety be called,
as they are by Mr. Ray, dwellers about streams or

ponds, circa aquas z'z’rsantes; for with us, by day at
60

least, they haunt only the most dry, open, upland
fields and sheep-walks, far removed from water;
what they may do in the night I cannot say. Worms
are their usual food, but they also eat toads and frogs.

I can show you some good specimens of my new
mice. Linnaeus, perhaps, would call the species Mus

minimus.

LETTER XVI.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

THE history of the stone-Curlew, C/zama’rz'us oedz'c-
nemus, is as follows. It lays its eggs, usually two,
never more than three, on the bare ground, without
any nest, in the field; so that the countryman, in-
stirring his fallows, often destroys them. The young
run immediately from the egg like partridges, &c.,
and are withdrawn to some flinty field by the dam,
where they skulk among the stones, which are their
best security; for their feathers are so exactly of the
colour of our grey-spotted flints, that the most exact
observer, unless he catches the eye of the young bird,
may be eluded. The eggs are short and round; of
a dirty white, spotted with dark bloody blotches.
Though I might not be able, just when I pleased, to
procure you a bird, yet I. could show you them al-
most any day; and any evening you may hear them

round the village, for they make a clamour which
61

may be heard a mile. Oedz'memus is a most apt
and expressive name for them, since their legs seem
swollen like those of agouty man. After harvest I
have shot them before the pointers in turnip-fields.

I make no doubt but there are three species of
the willow-wrens; two I know perfectly: but have
not been able yet to procure the third. No two
birds can differ more in their notes, and that conf
stantly, than those two that I am acquainted with ; for
the one has a joyous, easy, laughing note; the other
a harsh loud chirp. The former is every way larger,
and three-quarters of an inch longer, and weighs two
drams and a half, while the latter weighs but two;
so the songster is one-fifth heavier than the chirper.
The chirper (being the first summer bird of passage
that is heard, the wryneck sometimes excepted)
begins his two notes in the middle of March, and con-
tinues them through the spring and summer till the
end of August, as appears by my journals. The legs
of the larger of these two are flesh-coloured; of the
less, black.

The grasshopper-lark began his sibilous note in
my fields last Saturday. Nothing can be more
amusing than the whisper of this little bird, which
seems to be close by though at a hundred yards dis-
tance; and when close at your ear is scarce any
louder than when a great way off. Had I not been
a little acquainted with insects, and known that the

grasshopper kind is not yet hatched, I should have
62

hardly believed but that it had been a Air/15m whis—
pering in the bushes. The country people laugh
when you tell them
that it is the note
of a bird. It is a
most artful crea-
ture, skulking in
the thickest part
of a bush : and
will sing at a yard
distance, provided
it be concealed. I
was obliged to get

a person to go on

 

the other side of I,1mm”And/bun“.
the hedge where
it haunted: and then it would run, creeping like a
mouse, before us for a hundred yards together,
through the bottom of the thorns; yet it would not
come into fair sight: but in a morning early. and
when undisturbed, it sings on the top of a twig. gap—
ing and shivering with its wings. Mr. Ray himself
had no knowledge of this bird, but received his ac-
count from Mr. Johnson, who apparently confounds
it with the Rrgn/z' mm rrz‘s/alz', from which it is very
distinct.

The fly-catcher (Sio/mro/a, Ray) has not yet ap—
peared: it usually breeds in my vine. The redstart

begins to sing: its note is short and imperfect, but is
-v 63
I

continued till about the middle of June. The willow-
wrens (the smaller sort) are horrid pests in a garden,
destroying the peas, cherries, and Currants, and are
so tame that a gun will not scare them.*

My countrymen talk much of a bird that makes a
clatter with its bill against a dead bough, or some
old pales, calling it a jar-bird. I procured one to be.
shot in the very fact; it proved to be the nuthatch,
(Sz'tta Europwa). Mr. Ray says that the less spotted
Woodpecker does the same. This noise may be
heard a furlong or more off.

Now is the only time to ascertain the short-
winged summer birds; for when the leaf is out there

 

* A list of the Summer Birds of Passage discovered in this neighbour-
hood ranged somewhat in the order in which they appear :—
LINN/EI NOMINA.

Smallest willow-wren, fl/otzza'Z/a tz'oclzz'lus.
\Vryneck, jmzx torqztz'Z/(z.
House-swallow, Hz'runa’o rztytz'az.
Martin, C/zc/z'don ur/n'ca.
Sand-martin, Cotz'le riparia.

Cuckoo, Cunt/us amorus.
Nightingale, Lusz'm'a p/u'lomrlcz.
Blackeap. Alofacz'lla alrirapz'l/a.
\Vhitethroat, zllotaci/[a .n'lr'z'a.
Middle willow-wren, fl/otaaY/(z [frat/117115.
Swift, Hz'rzma’o apus.

Stone curlew.? , C/zamdrz'us oc’dz'azemus. .9
Turtle-dove, ? Turtur aldmvandi. .9
Grasshopper-lark, A [auda trivia/2's.

Land rail, Rallm crex.

Largest willow-wren, [Votaa'lla tron’zz'lus.
Redstart, Rutia'l/a p/Ia’m'rum.
Goatsueker, or fern-owl, Capn'mu/gus Eztropwa.
Fly-catcher, Illuscz'capa grim/a.

64

is no making any remarks on such a restless tribe:
and when once the young begin to appear it is all
confusion: there is no distinction of genus, species
or sex.

In breeding-times snipes play over the moors,
piping and humming: they always hum as they are
descending. Is not their hum ventriloquous, like
that of the turkey? Some suspect it is made by
their wings.

This morning I saw the golden-crowned wren,
whose crown glitters like burnished gold. It often
hangs like a titmouse, with its back downwards.

SELBORNE, April 18, I768.

LETTER XVII.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

ON Wednesday last arrived your agreeable letter
of June the 10th. It gives me great satisfaction to
find that you pursue these studies still with such
vigour, and are in such forwardness with regard to
reptiles and fishes.

The reptiles, few as they are, I am not ac-
quainted with so well as I could wish, with regard
to their natural history. There is a degree of du-
biousness and obscurity attending the pr0pagation

of this class of animals, something analogous to that
65

of the cryptogamia in the sexual system of plants:
and the case is the same with regard to some of the
fishes; as the eel, &c.

The method in which toads procreate and bring
forth seems to be very much in the dark. Some
authors say that they are viviparous: and yet Ray
classes them among his oviparous animals; and is
silent with regard to the manner of their bringing
forth. Perhaps they may be é’a'w ,uéu cbo—ré/coo, é’fw 8%
{wow/coo, as is known to be the case with the viper.
That of frogs is notorious to everybody: because
we see them sticking upon each other’s backs for a
month together in the spring: and yet I never saw
or read of toads being observed in the same situa-
tion. It is strange that the matter with regard to
the venom of toads has not yet been settled. That
they are not noxious to some animals is plain: for
ducks, buzzards, owls, stone-curlews, and snakes eat
them, to my knowledge, with impunity. And I
well remember the time, but was not eye-witness to
the fact (though numbers of persons were) when a
quack at this village ate a toad to make the country-
people stare ; afterwards he drank oil.

I have been informed also, from undoubted au-
thority, that some ladies (ladies you will say of
peculiar taste) took a fancy to a toad, which they
nourished summer after summer, for many years,
with the maggots which turn to flesh flies, till he

grew to a monstrous size. The reptile Used to come
66'

forth every evening from a hole under the garden
steps ; and was taken up on the table to be fed after
supper. But at last a tame raven, kenning him as he
put forth his head, gave him such a severe stroke
with his horny beak as put out one eye. After this ac-
cident the creature languished for some time and died.

I need not remind a gentleman of your extensive
reading of the excellent account there is from Mr.
Derham, in Ray’s “Wisdom of God in the Crea-
tion,” concerning the migration of frogs from their
breeding ponds. In this account he at once sub-
verts that foolish opinion of their dropping from the
clouds in rain; showing that it is from the grateful
coolness and moisture of those showers that they are
tempted to set out on their travels, which they de-
fer till'those fall. Frogs are as yet in their tadpole
state; but in a few weeks our lanes, paths, fields,
_ will swarm for a few days with myriads of those,
emigrants, no larger than my little finger nail.
Swammerdam gives a most accurate account of the
method and situation in which the male impregnates
the spawn of the female. How wonderful is the
economy of Providence with regard to the limbs of
so vile a reptile! While it is an aquatic, or in a
tadpole state, it has a fish-like tail, and no legs: as
soon as the legs sprout, the tail drops off as useless,
and the animal betakes itself to the land.*

 

* The tail of the tadpole does not drop off; it is absorbed.
67

Merrit, I trust, is widely mistaken when he ad-
vances that the Ram: arlzorea is an English reptile; it
abounds in Germany and Switzerland.

It is to be remembered that the Salammzdm aqua-
tz'm of Ray (the water-newt, or eft) will frequently
bite at the angler’s bait, and is often caught on his
hook. I used to take it for granted that the Sala-
7Izamz’m aquatz'ca was hatched, lived, and died, in the
water. But John Ellis, Esq., F. R. S. (the coralline
Ellis), asserts, in a letter to the Royal Society, dated
June 5th, 1766, in his account of the Mud z'nguana, an
amphibious bipes from South Carolina, that the
water-eft, or newt, is only the larva of the land-eft,
as tadpoles are of frogs. Lest I should be suspected
of misunderstanding his meaning, Ishall give it in,
his own words. Speaking of the opercula or cover-
ings to the gills of the Mud z’zzgztmm, he proceeds to
say that “the form of these pennated coverings ap—
proaches very near to what I have some time ago
observed in the larva or aquatic state of our English
Lacrrz‘a, known by the name of eft or newt: which
serve them for coverings to their gills, and for fins
to swim with while in this state; and which they
lose, as well as the fins of their tails, when they
change their state and become land animals, as I
have observed, by keeping them alive for some time
myself.”

Linnaeus, in his “ Systema Naturae,” hints more

than once at what Mr. Ellis advances.
()8

Providence has been so indulgent to us as to
allow of but one venomous reptile of the serpent
kind in these kingdoms, and that is the viper. As
you propose the good of mankind to be an object
of your publications, you will not omit to mention
common salad-oil as a sovereign remedy against the
bite of the viper. As to the blind worm (Angm's
fragz'lz's, so called because it snaps in sunder with a
small blow),I have found on examination that it is
perfectly innocuous. A neighbouring yeoman (to
whom I am indebted for some good hints) killed
and opened a female viper about the 27th of May;
he found her filled with a chain of eleven eggs,
about the size of those of a blackbird; but none of
them were advanced so far towards a state of matu-
rity as to contain any rudiments of young. Though
they are oviparous, yet they are viviparous also,
‘ hatching their young within their bellies, and then
bringing them forth. Whereas snakes lay chains of
eggs every summer in my melon-beds, in spite of all
that my people can do to prevent them ; which eggs
do not hatch till the spring following, as I have
often experienced. Several intelligent folks assure
me that they have seen the viper open her mouth
and admit her helpless young down her throat on
sudden surprises, just as the female opossum does
her brood into the pouch under her belly, upon the
like emergencies; and yet the London viper-catchers

insist on it, to Mr. Barrington, that no such thing
69

ever happens. The serpent kind eat, I believe, but
once in a year; or, rather, but only just at one sea-
son of the year. Country people talk much of a
water-snake, but, I am pretty sure, without any
reason; for the common snake (Co/21hr natrz’x) de-
lights much to sport in the water, perhaps with a
view to procure frogs and other food.

I cannot well guess how you are to make out
your twelve species of reptiles, unless it be the va-
rious species, or rather varieties, of our Lace’rtz', of
which Ray enumerates five. I have not had oppor-
tunity of ascertaining these; but remember well to
have seen, formerly, several beautiful green Lawrti
on the sunny sandbanks near Farnham, in Surrey;
and Ray admits there are such in Ireland.

SELBHRXIC, jmw 18, I708.

LETTER XVIII.

'I‘o THOMAS PENNANT, EsQ.

I RINZICIVEI) your obliging and communicative
letter of June the 28th, while I was on a visit at a
gentleman’s house, where I had neither books to
turn to nor leisure to sit down to return you an
answer to many queries, which I wanted to resolve
in the best manner that I am able.

A person, by my order, has searched our brooks,
7O

but could find no such fish as the Gastrmstcm‘ [Izm-
gz'tz'zts: he found the Gzzslrruslvm‘ aim/yams in plen-
ty. This morning, in a basket, I packed a little

X “W .,
1; ,AX ‘1 if:

 

771? (tuft/m": rho/t.

earthen pot full of wet moss, and in it some stick-
lebacks, male and female: the females big with
spawn: some lamperns; some bullhends: but I
could procure no minnows. This basket will be

in Fleet Street by eight this evening; so I hope
7]

Mazel * will have them fresh and fair to-morrow
morning. I gave some directions in a letter to what
particulars the engraver should be attentive.

Finding, while I was on a visit, that I was within
a reasonable distance of Ambresbury, I sent a serv-
ant over to that town, and procured several living
specimens of loaches, which he brought, safe and
brisk, in a glass decanter. They were taken in the
gullies that were cut for watering the meadows.
From these fishes (which measured from two to four
inches in length) I took the following description :—
“The loach, in its general aspect, has a pellucid
appearance; its back is mottled with irregular col-
lections of small black dots, not reaching much be-
low the [z'nm [Mam/2'5, as are the back and tail fins:
a black line runs from each eye down to the nose;
its belly is of a silvery white; the upper jaw projects
beyond the lower, and is surrounded with six feel-
ers, three on each side; its pectoral fins are large,
its ventral much smaller; the fin behind its anus
small; its dorsal fin large, containing eight spines;
its tail, where it joins to the tail-fin, remarkably
broad, without any taperness, so as to be characteris-
tic of this genus : the tail-fin is broad, and square at
the end. From the breadth and muscular strength
of the tail it appears to be an active nimble fish.”

In my visit I was not very far from Hungerford,

 

* Mr. Peter Mazel was the engraver of Pennant’s plates.

72

and did not forget to make some inquiries concern-
ing the wonderful method of curing cancers by
means of toads. Several intelligent persons, both
gentry and clergy, do, I find, give a great deal of
credit to what was asserted in the papers; and I
myself dined with a clergyman who seemed to be
persuaded that what is related is matter of fact ; but
when I came to attend to his account, I thought I
discerned circumstances which did not a little in-

validate the woman’s story of the manner in which
I she came by her skill. She says of herself: “that
labouring under a virulent cancer, she went to some
church where there was a vast crowd: on going
into a pew, she was accosted by a strange clergy—
man; who, after expressing compassion for her
situation, told her that if she would make such an
application of living toads as is mentioned she
would be well.” Now is it likely that this unknown
gentleman should express so much tenderness for
this single sufferer, and not feel 'any for the many
thousands that daily languish under this terrible
disorder? Would he not have made use of this '
invaluable nostrum for his own emolument; or, at
least, by some means of publication or other, have
found a method of making it public for the good
of mankind P In short, this woman (as it appears to
to me) having set up for a cancer-doctress, finds it
expedient to amuse the country with this dark and

mysterious relation.
73

The water-eft has not, that I can discern, the
least appearance of any gills; for want of which it is
continually rising to the surface of the water to take
in fresh air. I opened a big-bellied one indeed, and
found it full of spawn. Not that this circumstance
at all invalidates the assertion that they are larvae;
for the larvae of insects are full of eggs, which they
exclude the instant they enter their last state. The
watcr-eft is continually climbing over the brims of
the vessel within which we keep it in water, and
wandering away; and pCOple every summer see
numbers crawling out of the pools where they are
hatched, up the dry banks. There are varieties of
them, differing in colour; and some have fins up
their tail and back, and some have not.

SI:1.HOR.\'E,]zz/y 27, I708.

LETTER XIX.
To THOMAS PENNAN’I‘, ESQ.

I HAVE now, past dispute, made out three dis-
tinct species of the willow-wrens (flintarz'l/(e troc/zz'lz')
which constantly and invariably use distinct notes;
but, at the same time, I am obliged to confess that I
know nothing of your willow-lark.* In my letter of

 

* Brit. 2001., edit. 1776, octavo, p. 381.
74

April the 18th,l had told you peremptorily that I
knew your willow-lark, but had not seen it then: but
when I came to procure it, it proved, in all respects,
a very flioz‘acz'lla Woe/alas,” only that it is a size
larger than the other two, and the yellow-green of
the whole upper part of the body is more vivid, and
the belly of a clearer white. I have specimens of
three sorts now lying before me, and can discern
that there are three gradations of sizes, and that
the least has black legs, and the other two flesh-col-
oured ones. The yellowest bird is considerably the
largest, and has its quill feathers and secondary
feathers tipped with white, which the others have
_not. This last haunts only the tops of trees in high
.beechen woods, and makes a sibilous grasshopper-
like noise, now and then, at short intervals, shivering
a little with its wings when it sings; and is, I make
»no doubt now, the Regulus 72072 crz'staz‘us of Ray;
which he says “cantat voce stridula locustae.” Yet
this great ornithologist never suspected that there
were three species.

SELBORNE, Aug. I7, 1768.

 

* Hedge-warbler (see _ Letter XXVI.): Sylvia loyaax, black legs ;
Sylvia troc/zz'lm, yellowish belly ; Sylvia sibilatrix, white belly.

75

LETTER XX.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

IT is, I find, in zoology as it is in botany: all
nature is so full, that that district produces the
greatest variety which is the most examined. Sev-
eral birds, which are said to belong to the north
only, are, it seems, often in the south. I have dis-
covered this summer three species of birds with
us, which writers mention as only to be seen in the
northern counties. The first that was brought me
(on the 14th of May) was the sandpiper (Trz'nga
lzypoleucus): it was a cock bird, and haunted the
banks of some ponds near the village; and as it had
a companion, doubtless intended to have bred near
that water. Besides, the owner has told me since,
that, on recollection, he has seen some of the same
birds round his ponds in former summers.

The next bird that I procured (on the 2181‘, of
May) was a male red-back butcher bird (Lam'us col-
[urz'0). My neighbour who shot it says that it might
easily have escaped his notice, had not the outcries
and chattering of the white-throats and other small
birds drawn his attention to the bush where it was:
its craw was filled with legs and wings of beetles.

The next rare birds (which were procured for me
last week) were some ring-ousels (Tardy: torquatus}.

This week twelve months a gentleman from Lon-
76

don being with us, was amusing himself with a gun,
and found, he told us, on an old yew hedge where

 

A flz'z'nd/y (/10! (m SKI/write Jtreet.

there were berries, some birds like blackbirds, with
rings of white round their necks: a neighbouring
farmer also at the same time observed the same; but,
as no specimens were procured, little notice was

taken. I mentioned this Circumstance to you in my
77

letter of November the 4th, 1767. Last week the
aforesaid farmer, seeing a large flock, twenty or
thirty, of these birds, shot two cocks and two hens:
and says, on recollection, that he remembers to have
observed these birds last spring, about Lady-day, as
it were, on their return to the north. If these birds
should prove the ousels of the north of England,then
here is a migration disclosed within our own king-
dom never before remarked. It does not yet appear
whether they retire beyond the bounds of our island
to the south; but it is most probable that they usu-
ally do, or else one cannot suppose that they would
have continued so long unnoticed in the southern
counties. The ousel is larger than a blackbird, and
feeds on haws; but last autumn (when there were no
haws) it fed on yew-berries; in the spring it feeds on
ivy-berries, which ripen only at that season, in March
and April.

1 must not omit to tell you (as you have been
lately on the study of reptiles) that my people, every
now and then of late,draw up with a bucket of water
from my well, which is 63 feet deep, a large black
warty lizard, with a fin-tail and yellow belly. How
they first came down at that depth, and how they
were ever to have got out thence without help, is
more than I am able to say.

My thanks are due to you for your trouble and
care in the examination of a buck’s head. As far as

your discoveries reach at present, they seem much
78

to corroborate my suspicions; and I hope Mr. Hunt
may find reason to give his decision in my favour;
and then,I think, we may advance this extraordinary
provision of nature as a new instance of the wisdom
of God in the creation.

As yet I have not quite done with my history of
the oedz’cnemzzs, or stone-curlew; for I shall desirea
gentleman in Sussex (near whose house these birds
congregate in vast flocks in the autumn) to observe
nicely when they leave him (if they do leave him),
and when they return again in the spring: I was
with this gentleman lately, and saw several single
birds.

SELBORNE,(I¢.8.I768.

LETTER XXI.

To THOMAS PENNANT, EsQ.

WITH regard to the ogdicnemus, or stone-curlew, I
intend to write very soon to my friend near Chiches-
ter, in whose neighbourhood these birds seem most
to abound; and shall urge him to take particular
notice when they begin to congregate, and after-
wards to watch them most narrowly, whether they
do not withdraw themselves during the dead of the
winter. When I have obtained information with

respect to this circumstance, I shall have finished
8 79

my history of the stone-Curlew; which I hope will
prove to your satisfaction, as it will be, I trust, very
near the truth.

It is very extraordinary, as you observe, that a
bird so common with us should never straggle to
you.

After a lapse of twenty years, Mr. White adds:
[On the 27th of February, 1788, stone-curlews were
heard to pipe; and on March 1st, after it was dark,
some were passing over the village, as might be per-
ceived from their quick short note, which they use
in their nocturnal excursions by way of watchword,
that they may not stray and lose their companions.

Thus, we see, that retire whithersoever they may
in the winter, they return again early in the spring,
and are, as it now appears, the first summer birds
that come back. Perhaps the mildness of the sea-
son may have quickened the emigration of the cur-
lews this year.

They spend the day in high elevated fields and
sheep-walks; but seem to descend in the night to
streams and meadows, perhaps for water, which
their upland haunts do not afford them.]—OBSER-
VA'I‘IONS ON NATURE.

And here will be the properest place to mention,
while I think of it, an anecdote which the above-
mentioned gentleman told me when I was last at his
house; which was that, in a warren joining to his

outlet, many daws (Corm' monea’zflw) build every year
80

.bmiflxfizfim.

 

l‘yi. ‘ , L

in the rabbit-burrows under ground. The way he
and his brothers used to take their nests, while
they were boys, was by listening at the mouths of
the holes; and if they heard the young ones cry,
they twisted the nest out with a forked stick.
Some water-fowls (viz. the puffins) breed, I know,
in that manner; but I should never have sus-
' pected the daws of building in holes on the flat
ground.

Another very unlikely spot is made use of by
daws as a place to breed in, and that is Stonehenge.
These birds deposit their nests in the interstices
between the upright and the impost stones of that
amazing work of antiquity: which circumstance
alone speaks' the prodigious height of the upright
stones, that they should be tall enough to secure
those nests from the annoyance of shepherd boys,
who are always idling round that place.

One of my neighbours last Saturday, November
the 26th, saw a martin in a sheltered bottom: the
sun shone warm, and the bird was hawking briskly
after flies. I am now perfectly satisfied that they do
not all leave this island in the winter;

You judge very right, I think, in speaking with
reserve and caution concerning the cures done by
toads; for, let people advance what they will on
such subjects, yet there is such a propensity in man-
kind towards deceiving and being deceived, that

one cannot safely relate anything from common
81

report, especially in print, without expressing some
degree of doubt and suspicion.

Your approbation, with regard to my new dis-
covery of the migration of the ring-ousel, gives me
satisfaction; and I find you concur with me in sus-
pecting that they are foreign birds which visit us.
You will be sure, I hope, not to omit to make in-
quiry whether your ring-ousels leave your rocks in
the autumn. What puzzles me most is the very
short stay they make with us; for in about three
weeks they are all gone. I shall be very curious to
remark whether they will call on us at their return
in the spring, as they did last year.

I want to be better informed with regard to
icthyology. If fortune had settled me near the
sea-side, or near some great river, my natural pro-
pensity would soon have urged me to have made
myself acquainted with their productions: but as I
have lived mostly in inland parts, and in an upland
district, my knowledge of fishes extends little far-
ther than to those common sorts which our brooks
and lakes produce.

SELBORNE, Nov 28, I768.

82

LETTER XXII.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

AS to the peculiarity of jackdaws building with
us under the grOund in rabbit-burrows, you have,
in part, hit upon the reason; for, in reality, there
are hardly any towers or steeples in all this country.
And perhaps, Norfolk excepted, Hampshire and
Sussex are as meanly furnished with churches as
almost any‘ counties in the kingdom. We have
many livings of two or three hundred pounds a
year whose houses of worship make little better ap-
pearance than dove-cots. When I first saw North-
amptonshire, Cambridgeshire, and Huntingdonshire,
and the fens of Lincolnshire, I was amazed at the
number of spires which presented themselves from
every point of View. As an admirer of prospects, I
have reason to lament this want in my own country ;
for such objects are very necessary ingredients in an
elegant landscape.

What you mention with respect to reclaimed
toads raises my curiosity. An ancient author,
though no naturalist, has well remarked that,
“ Every kind of beasts, and of birds, and of serpents,
and things in the sea, is tamed, and hath been
tamed, of mankind ” (James iii. 7).

It is a satisfaction to me to find that a green

lizard has actually been procured for you in Devon-
83 -

shire; because it corroborates my discovery, which
I made many years ago, of the same sort, on a sunny
sandbank near Farnham in Surrey. I am well ac-
quainted with the south hams of Devonshire; and
can suppose that district, from its southerly situa-
tion, to be a proper habitation for such animals in
their best colours.

Since the ring-ousels of your vast mountains do
certainly not forsake them against winter, our sus-
picions that those which visit this neighbourhood
about Michaelmas are not English birds, but are
driven from the more northern parts of Europe by
the frosts, are still more reasonable; and it will be
worth your pains to endeavour to trace from
whence they come, and to inquire why they make so
very short a stay.

In the account you gave me of your error with
regard to the two species of herons, you incidentally
gave me great entertainment in your description of
the heronry at Cressi Hall; which is a curiosity I
never could manage to see. Fourscore nests of such
a bird on one tree is a rarity which I would ride
half as many miles to get a sight of. Pray tell me in
your next whOse seat Cressi Hall is, and near what
town it lies.* I have often thought that those vast
fens have not been sufficiently explored. If half a
dozen gentlemen, furnished with a good strength of

 

* Cressi Hall is near Spalding, in Lincolnshire.
84

water-spaniels, were to beat them over for a week,
they would certainly find more species. ,

There is no bird whose manners I have studied
more than that of the caprimuégus (the goat-sucker):
it is a wonderful and curious creature, but I have
always found that though sometimes it may chatter
as it flies, as I know it does, yet in general it utters
its jarring note sitting on a bough; and I have for
many a half-hour watched it as it sat with its under
mandible quivering, and particularly this summer.
It perches usually on a bare twig, with its head
lower than its tail, in an attitude well expressed by
your draughtsman in the folio “British Zoology.”
This bird is most punctual in beginning its song
exactly at the close of day; so exactly that I have
known it strike up more than once or twice juSt at
the report of the Portsmouth evening gun, which
we can hear when the weather is still. It appears to
me past all doubt that its notes are formed by or-
ganic impulse, by the powers of the parts of its
windpipe formed for sound, just as cats purr. You
will credit me, I hope, when I assure you that as my
neighbours were assembled in a hermitage on the
side of a steep hill, where we drink tea sometimes,
one of these churn-owls came and settled on the
cross of that little straw edifice and began to chat-
ter, and continued his note for many minutes; and
we were all struck with wonder to find that the

organs of the little animal. when put in motion, gave
85

a sensible vibration to the whole building! This
bird also sometimes makes a small squeak, repeated
four or five times; and I have observed that to
happen when the cock has been pursuing the hen
in a toying way through the boughs of a tree.

After a lapse of twenty years the author adds the
following to his “ History of the Fern-owl or Goat-

3

sucker:’-
[The country people have a notion that the fern-

owl, or churn-owl, or eve-jarr, which they also call a
puckeridge, is very injurious to weanling calves, by
inflicting, as it strikes at them, the fatal distemper
known to cow—leeches by the name of puckeridge.
Thus does this harmless ill-fated bird fall under a]
double imputation which it by no means deserves—
in Italy, of sucking the teats of goats, whence it is
called caprz'zzzzt/gus; and with us Of communicating
a deadly disorder to cattle. But the truth of the
matter is, the malady above mentioned is occasioned
by the $5172.55 bomb", a dipterous insect, which lays
its eggs along the chines of kine, where the mag-
gots, when hatched, eat their way through the hide
of the beast into the flesh, and grow to a very large
size. 1 have just talked with a man, who says he
has more than once stripped calves who have died
of the puckeridge; that the ail or complaint lay
along the chine, where the flesh was much swelled,
and filled with purulent matter. I myself once saw

a large rough maggot of this sort squeezed out of
86

the back of a cow. In Essex these maggots are
called wornills.

The least observation and attention would con-
Vince men that these birds neither injure the goat-
herd nor the grazier, but are perfectly harmless, and
subsist alone, being night birds, on night insects,
such as Scaméaez' and plaza/mm,- and through the
month of July mostly on the Scarabwus solstz'tz'alz's,
which in many districts abounds at that season.
Those that we have opened have always had their
craws stuffed with large night moths and their eggs,
and pieces of chafers: nor does it anywise appear
how they can, weak and unarmed as they seem,
inflict any harm upon kine', unless they possess the
powers of animal magnetism, and can affect them by
fluttering over them. \

A fern-owl this evening (August 27) showed off
in a very unusual and entertaining manner, by
hawking round and round the circumference of my
great spreading oak for twenty times following,
keeping mostly close to the grass, but occasionally
glancing up amidst the boughs of the tree. This
amusing bird was then in pursuit of a brood of some
particular p/za/mm belonging to the oak, of which
there are several sorts; and exhibited on the occa-
sion a command of wing superior, I think, to that of
the swallow itself.

When a person approaches the haunt of fern-owls

in an evening, they continue flying. round the head
87

of the obtruder; and by striking their wings to-
gether above their backs, in the manner that the
pigeons called smiters are known to do, make a
smart snap: perhaps at that time they are jealous for
their young; and their noise and gesture are intend-
ed by way of menace.

Fern-owls seem to have an attachment to oaks,
no doubt on account of food; for the next evening
we saw one again several times among the boughs
of the same tree; but it did not skim round its stem
over the grass, as on the evening before. In May
these birds find the Scarabwus mz’lolmzt/za on the oak;
and the Scarabceus solstz'z‘z'a/z's at midsummer; but they
can only be watched and observed for two hours in
the twenty-four; and then in a dubious twilight an
hour after sunset and an hour before sunrise.

On this day (July I4, 1789) a woman brought me
two eggs of a fern-owl or eve-jarr, which she found
on the verge of the Hanger, to the left of the her-
mitage, under a beechen shrub. This person, who
lives just at the foot of the Hanger, seems well
acquainted with these nocturnal swallows, and says
she has often found. their eggs near that place, and
that they lay only two at a time on the bare ground.
The eggs were oblong, dusky, and streaked some-
what in the manner of the plumage of the parent
bird, and were equal in size at each end. The dam
was sitting on the eggs when found, which contained

the rudiments of young. and would have been
88

hatched perhaps in a week. From hence we may see
the time of their breeding, which corresponds pretty
well with that of the swift, as does also the period of
their arrival. Each species is usually seen about the
beginning of May. Each breeds but once in a sum-
mer; and each lays only two eggs.

July 4, I790. The woman who brought me two
fern-owls’ eggs last year on July 14, on this day pro-
duced me two more, one of which had been laid this
morning, as appears plainly, because there was only
one in the nest the evening before. They were
found, as last July, on the verge of the down above
the hermitage under a beechen shrub, on the naked
ground. Last year those eggs were full of young,
and just ready to be hatched.

These circumstances point out the exact time‘
when these curious nocturnal migratory birds lay
their eggs, and hatch their young. Fern-owls, like
' snipes, stone-curlews, and some other birds, make no
nest. Birds that build on the ground do not make
much of their nests.]—OBSERVATIONS ON NATURE.

It would not be at all strange if the bat, which
you have procured, should prove a new one, since
five species have been found in a neighbouring king-
dom. The great sort that I mentioned is certainly a
‘nondescript: I saw but one this summer, and that I
had no opportunity of taking.

Your account of the Indian grass was entertain-

ing. I am no angler myself; but inquiring of those
89

that are what they supposed that part of their tackle
to be made of, they replied “of the intestines of a
silkworm.”

Though I must not pretend to great skill in en-
tomology, yet I cannot say that I am ignorant of that
kind of knowledge: I may now and then perhaps be
able to furnish you with a little information.

The vast rains ceased with us much about the
same time as with you, and since then we have had
delicate weather. Mr. Barker, who has measured
the rain for more than thirty years, says, in a late let-
ter, that more has fallen this year than in any he
ever attended to; though from July, 1763, to Janu-
ary, 1764, more fell than in any seven months of this

year.
SELBORNEh/bn.2,1769.

LETTER.XXHL

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

IT is not improbable that the Guernsey lizard and
our green lizards may be specifically the same; all
that I know is, that, when some years ago many
Guernsey lizards were turned loose in Pembroke .
College garden, in the university of Oxford, they
lived a great while. and seemed to enjoy themselves

very well, but never bred. Whether this circum-
90

stance will prove anything either way I shall not
pretend to say.

I'return you thanks for your account of Cressi
Hall; but recollect, not without regret, that in June,
1746, I was visiting for a week together at Spalding,
without ever being told that such a curiosity was
just at hand. Pray tell me in your next what sort
of tree it is that contains such a quantity of herons’
nests; and whether the heronry consists of a whole
grove or wood, or only of a few trees.

It gave me satisfaction to find we accorded so
well about the caprz'mulgus: all I contended for was
to prove that it often chatters sitting as well as fly-
ing; and therefore the noise was voluntary, and from
organic impulse, and not from the resistance of the
air against the hollow of its mouth and throat.

If ever I saw anything like actual migration, it
was last Michaelmas Day. I was travelling, and out

. early in the morning: at first there was a vast fog;

but by the time that I was got seven or eight miles
from home towards the coast, the sun broke out into
a delicate warm day. We were then on a large
heath or common, and Icould discern, as the mist
began to break away, great numbers of swallows
(Hz'runa’z'nes rustz'cce) clustering on the stunted shrubs
and bushes, as if they had roosted there all night.
As soon as the air became clear and pleasant they
all were on the wing at once; and, by a placid and

easy flight, proceeded on southward towards the
. 91

sea: after this I did not see any more flocks, only
now and then a straggler.

I cannot agree with those persons who assert that
the swallow kind disappear gradually, as they come,
for the bulk of them seem to withdraw at once:
only some few stragglers stay behind a long while,
and never, there is reason to believe, leave this island.
Swallows seem to lay themselves up, and to come
forth in a warm day, as bats do continually of a
warm evening after they have disappeared for weeks.
For a very respectable gentleman assured me that,
as he was walking with some friends under Merton
wall on a remarkably hot noon, either in the last
week in December or the first week in January, he
espied three or four swallows huddled together on
the moulding of one of the windows of that college.
I have frequently remarked that swallows are seen
later at Oxford than elsewhere: is this owing to the
vast massy buildings of that place, to the many
waters round it, or to what else?

\Vhen l used to rise in a morning last autumn,
and see the swallows and martins clustering on the
chimneys and thatch of the neighbouring cottages,
I could not help being touched with a secret delight,
mixed with some degree of mortification: with de-
light, to observe with how much ardour and punctu-
ality those poor little birds obeyed the strong im-
pulse towards migration, or hiding, imprinted on

their minds by their great Creator; and with some
()2

degree of mortification, when I reflected that, after

all our pains and inquiries, we are yet not quite cer-

 

Cn/lagn marl {a “ 771w ”211w."

tain to what regions they do migrate: and are still
farther embarrassed to find that some do not actu-
ally migrate at all.

These reflections made so strong an impression
on my imagination. that they became productive of
a composition that may perhaps amuse you for a
quarter of an hour when next I have the honour
of writing to you.

SELBHRNIZ. Frl/rmzrjx' 23. 1769.

0 93

LETTER XXIV.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

THE Sazrabwus fullo I know very well, having
seen it in collections; but have never been able to
discover one wild in its natural state. Mr. Banks
told me he thought it might be found on the sea
coast.

On the 13th of April I went to the sheep-down,
where the ring-ousels have been observed to make
their appearance at spring and fall, in their way per-
haps to the north or south; and was much pleased
to see three birds about the usual spot. We shot a
cock and a hen; they were plump and in high con-
dition. The hen had but very small rudiments of
eggs within her, which proves they are late breed-
ers; whereas those species of the thrush kind that
remain with us the whole year have fledged young
before that time. In their crops was nothing very
distinguishable, but somewhat that seemed like
blades of vegetables nearly digested. In autumn
they feed on haws and yew-berries, and in the spring
on ivy—berries. I dressed one of these birds, and
found it juicy and well-flavoured. It is remarkable
that they only stay a few days in their spring visit,
but rest nearly a fortnight at Michaelmas. These
birds, from the observations of three springs and

two autumns, are most punctual in their return; and
’ 94

exhibit a new migration unnoticed by the writers,
who supposed they never were to be seen in any of
the southern counties.

One of my neighbours lately brought me a new
Salz'carz'a, which at first I suspected might have
proved your willow-lark;* but, on a nicer examina-
tion, it answered much better to the description of
that species which you shot at Revesby, in Lincoln-
shire. My bird I describe thus :-—“It is a size less
than the grasshopper-lark; the head, back, and cov-
erts of the wings of a dusky brown, without those
dark spots of the grasshopper-lark; over each eye is
a milkwhite stroke; the chin and. throat are white,
and the under parts of a yellowish white: the rump
is tawny, and the feathers of the tail sharp-pointed;
the bill is dusky and sharp, and the legs are dusky ;\
the binder claw long and crooked.” The person
that shot it says that it sung so like a reed-sparrow
that he took it for one; and that it sings all night:
but this account merits farther inquiry. For my
part, I suspect it as a second sort of locustel/a, hinted
at by Dr. Derham in “ Ray’s Letters.” He also pro-
cured me a grasshopper-lark.

The question that you put with regard to those
genera of animals that are peculiar to America, viz.
how they came there, and whence? is too puzzling
for me to answer; and yet so obvious as often to

 

* For this Salz'can'a, or sedge-warbler, see Letter XXVI. August 30,

I769.
95

have struck me with wonder. If one looks into the
writers on that subject little satisfaction is to be
found. Ingenious men will readily advance plausible
arguments to support whatever theory they shall
choose to maintain; but then the misfortune is, every
one’s hypothesis is each as good as another’s, since
they are all founded on conjecture. The late writers
of this sort, in whom may be seen all the arguments
of those that have gone before, as I remember, stock
America from the western coast of Africa and the
south of Europe; and then break down the Isthmus
that bridged over the Atlantic. But this is making
use of a violent piece of machinery: it is a difficulty
worthy of the interposition of a god! “ Incredulus
odi.” “I feel disgusted and disbelieving.”

THE NA'l‘URALIS'l‘S SUMMER—EVENING \VALK.

 

“ z’r/ztia’mz (rain, quid 51'! divinitus {[[z's
[/z‘grr’m'zmz." *—VIRG. Geo/g. i. 415, 416.

\VIIEN day declining sheds a milder gleam,

\Vhat time the May-fly haunts the pool or stream ;
\Vhen the still owl skims round the grassy mead,
\Vhat time the timorous hare limps forth to feed:
Then be the time to steal adown the vale,

And listen to the vagrant cuckoo’s tale;

To hear the clamorous curlewf call his mate,

Or the soft quail his tender pain relate ;

To see the swallow sweep the dark’ning plain
Belated, to support her infant train;

To mark the swift in rapid giddy ring

Dash round the steeple, unsubdued of wing:

 

* “ I think their instinct is divinely bestowed.”
+ C/mmu’n’us (Milan/11115.

()6

 

BUNK/111V in My Aw; (VI/n.

S

v
C

11

of “'11

L\'uritc walk

(

The lvthc was :1. f

 

Amusive birds! say where your hid retreat
When the frost rages and the tempests beat ;
Whence your return, by such nice instinct led,
W'hen spring, soft season, lifts her bloomy head?
Such baffled searches mock man’s prying pride,
The GOD of NATURE is your secret guide !
While deep’ning shades obscure the face of day
To yonder bench leaf-shelter'd let us stray,
Till blended objects fail the swimming sight,
And all the fading landscape sinks in night;
To hear the drowsy dorr come brushing by
With buzzing wing, or the shrill cricket * cry ;
To see the feeding bat glance through the wood ;
To catch the distant falling of the flood ;
While o’er the cliff th’ awaken’d churn-owl hung
Through the still gloom protracts his chattering song;
While high in air, and pois’d upon his wings,
Unseen, the soft enamour’d woodlark sings:
These, NATURE’S works, the curious mind employ,
Inspire a soothing melancholy joy:
As fancy warms, a pleasing kind of pain
Steals o’er the cheek, and thrills the creeping. vein l
Each rural sight, each sound, each smell combine ;
The tinkling sheep-bell, or the breath of kine ;
The new-mown hay that scents the swelling breeze,
Or cottage-chimney smoking through the trees.
The chilling night-dews fall :—away, retire ;
For see, the glowworm lights her amorous fire!
Thus, ere night’s veil had half obscured the sky,
Th’ impatient damsel hung her lamp on high:
True to the signal, by love’s meteor led,
Leander hasten’d to his Hero’s bed.

SELBORNE, .May 29, I769.

 

* Gzyllus rampart) is.

97

LETTER XXV.

To THE HONOL'RABLE DAINES HARRINGTON.

\VHEX l was in town last month I partly engaged
that I would some time do myself the honour to
write to you on the subject of natural history: and l
anithe nmne-readytrifuufl.rny pronfise,because I
see you are a gentleman of great candour, and one
that will make allowances; especially where the
writer professes to be an outdoor naturalist, one
that takes his observations from the subject itself,
and not from the writings of others.

The following is a list of the summer birds of
passage which I have discovered in this neighbour-
hood. ranged somewhat in the order in which they

appear:
RAH NOMINA. APPEARS ABOUT
_ j’jmzx, 51:5 tor-i. The middle of March: harsh
I. \\ rvneck, ‘- . r
- (I'm/Ia. ‘ note.
2. Smallest wil- 'A’qgu/m mm 07's! March 23: chirps till Septem-
low-wren, 4: (aim. ber.
3. Swallow, [/z’rmm’n domestim. April 13.
4. Martin. f/I'rzmdo 711511112. Ditto.
5. Sand-martin. l/irzma’o rz'fm‘z'a. Ditto.
(i. Blackcap, Atrz'msz/(z. April 13: a sweet wild note.
7. Nightingale. Lmrz'm'a. Beginning of April.
8. Cuckoo. Cu 11/115. Middle of April.

(. Middle wil- "/i’wu/us 22m (215- 7 . - -
) ,v "5 ‘ I. Ditto: a sweet plalntive note.

lo w-w ren. I. fail“. /
- . .. . .i' ' : ean note; sin 5 on
IO. “lute-throat, flaw/Ida aflims. 4 Dn_t0 m g
l till September.
I I. Red-start, A’utz’nY/a. Ditto: more agreeable song.
. . " d Mar h: loud n0‘turnal
12. Stone-curlew, Oedzazemus. .; En (ff C h
3 whistle.

98

 

.1 //Ir"

In My

“Way

.‘I

 

RAII NOMINA. APPEARS ABOUT.
I3. Turtle-dove, Turtur.

I4. Grasshopper- A/aua’a - mz'm'ma ‘ Middle of April : a small sibi-
lark, { [ocustaz voce. l lous note, till the end of July.

15. Swift, Hz'rundo apus. April 27.

16. Less reed- Passer armza’ina-l A sweet polyglot, but hurrying:
sparrow, l cam minor. i it has the notes of many birds.

I7. Land-rail, Ortygometm. A loud harsh note, “ crex, crex.”

“ Cantat voce stridula locustae ;”
end of April ; on the tops of
high beeches.

18. Largest wil- {Regulus non cris-n
low-wren, tatus.

L
It). Goat-sucker,or . Beginning of May: chatters by
Fern-owl, } Caprmzu/gus. { night with a singular noise.
jMay 12. A very mute bird.
20. Fly-catcher, Stoparo/a. [ This is the latest summer

bird of passage.

‘ This assemblage of curious and amusing birds be-
longs to ten several genera of the Linnaean system;
and are all of the ordo of passeres, save the jynx and

 

A family of [and-rails.
99

(mu/us, which are pica, and the c/zama’rz'us (oedz'memzzs) .
and rallus (ortygm/ze'tra), which are gra/[m

These birds, as they stand numerically, belong to
the following Linnaean genera :—

I. fyizx. I3. Co/zmzlra.

2, 6, 7, g, 10, 11, 16, IS. fl/otaa'lla. I7. A’aflm.

3, 4, 5, 15. // {rum/0. Ig. Caprimu/gm.
S. Cara/115. I4. A/amz’a.

12. C/zarad/‘z'zw. 20. 11/11561-(apd.

Most soft-billed birds live on insects, and not on
grain and seeds ; and therefore at the end of summer
they retire: but the following soft-billed birds, though

insect-eaters, stay with us the year round :—-

RAII NOMINA.
[These frequent houses, and

R (lbreast ~ lx’ztbeczt/a. . . .
e ' ’ J, haunt outbuildings 1n the
\\ ren, Primer troglodytes. l - V .
s , Winter: eat spiders.
{Haunts sinks for crumbs and
I'Iedge-sparrow, Cmv'ztm. Jl _
l other sweeplngs.
{These frequent shallow rivu-
\Vhite-wagtail. fl/ofacz'l/a (II/2a. I lets near the spring heads,
v . . l
\ ellow-wagtall, zllotarz/la flat/a. { where thev never freeze ; eat
. I .
Grey-wagtail, fl/o/arz/la (warm. I the aura/Ia“ of Phryqanea.
| . k
l The smallest birds that walk.
, [Some of these are to he s
“heat-ear, Oemz/zt/zc. _ . _ een
L With us the Winter through.
\\'hin-chat, Oc’mmt/ze scrum/(7.
Stone-chatter, ammt/ze far/I'd.

This is the smallest British bird:
haunts the tops of tall trees:

Golden-crowned l ,
i Regulus (rum/us.

A
/——-' ‘_ _\

wren, .
stays the Winter through.

A List of the \Vinter Birds of Passage round this
neighbourhood. ranged somewhat in the order in

which they appear :—
IOO

I. Ring-ousel, Manda torquata.

2. Redwing, Turdus z'lz'arus.

3. Fieldfare, Tura’us fi/arz's.

Corm'x cinema.

4. Royston-crow,

5. Woodcock, 560/0 ax.

6. Snipe, Gal/z'nago minor.
7. Jack-snipe, Gal/z'nago mz'm'ma.

081105.

8. VVood-pigeon,

9. \Vild-swan, C iglz'zzs ferns.

IO. Wild-goose, Anserferzzs.
II. \Vild-duck, {Anus forquata
72121101.
12. Pochard, L"A;zasfimfmca.
I3. VVidgeon, Penelope.
I4. Teal, breeds]
with us inl
VVolmer F01 ? sziquca’zt/a.
est, j‘
15. Cross-beak, Cocrot/uaustes.
I6. Cross-bill, Loxz'a.
I7. Silk-tail, {Carma/us bo/zemi-

cus.

I have lately discovered about
1 Michaelmas week, and again
L about the 14th of March.
About old Michaelmas.
{Though a by day,
roosts on the ground.

JThis is a new migration, which

percher

Most frequent on downs.

Appears about old Michaelmas.

Some snipes constantly breed
L with us.

{Seldom appears till late: not

111 such plenty as for.merly
LOn some laige waters.

, On our lakes and streams.

 

J
1 These are only wanderers that ~.
l appear occasionally, and are
i not observant of any regular
J migration.

These birds, as they stand numerically, belong to

the following Linnaean genera :—

I, 2, 3, Tum’us. g, 10, II, 12, 13, I4.

4, Corvus. A new.

5, 6, 7, Scolopax. 15, I6, Loxz'a.
8, Colzmzba. I7, ' Ampelz's.

Birds that sing in the night are but few :—

Luscim'a.

Nightingale,

IOI

f“ In shadiest covert hid.”—

L MILTON.

Woodlark, Alma/a. ar/mrea. Suspended in mid air.
Passer aruna'z'na-

f
Less reed-sparrow, _
rem mmor.

} Among reeds and willows.

I should now proceed to such birds as continue to
sing after Midsummer, but, as they are rather numer-
ous, they would exceed the bounds of this paper; be-
sides, as this is now the season for remarking on that
subject, I am willing to repeat my observations on
some birds concerning the continuation of whose
song I seem at present to have some doubt.

SELBORNE, June 30, 1769.

[As one of my neighbours was traversing Wolmer
Forest from Bramshot, across the moors, he found a
large uncommon bird fluttering in the heath, but not
wounded, which he brought home alive. On exam_
ination it proved to be Co/ymbus glacial/2's, Linn., the
great speckled diver or loon, which is most excel-
lently described in “ Willughby’s Ornithology.”

Every part and proportion of this bird is so in-
comparably adapted to its mode of life, that in no in-
stance do we see the wisdom of God in the creation
to more advantage. The head is sharp, and smaller
than the part of the neck adjoining, in order that it
may pierce the water; the wings are placed forward
and out of the centre of gravity, for a purpose which
shall be noticed hereafter; the thighs quite at the
podex, in order to facilitate diving: and the legs are

flat, and as sharp backwards almost as the edge of a
102

knife, that in striking they may easily cut the water:
while the feet are palmated, and broad for swim-
ming, yet so folded up when advanced forward to
take a fresh stroke, as to be full as narrow as the
shank. The two exterior toes of the feet are long-
e‘st; the nails flat and broad, resembling the human,
which give strength and increase the power of swim-
ming. The foot, when expanded, is not at right
angles to the leg or body of the bird ; but the exte-
rior part inclining towards the head forms an acute
angle with the body; the intention being not to give
motion in the line of the legs themselves, but by the
combined impulse of both in an intermediate line—
the line of the body.

Most people know, that have observed at all, that
the swimming of birds is nothing more than a walk-
ing in the water, where one foot succeeds the other
as on the land ; yet no one, as far as I am aware, has
remarked that diving fowls, while under water, im-
pel and row themselves forward by a motion of their
‘ wings, as well as by the impulse of their feet: but
such is really the case, as any person may easily be
convinced, who will observe ducks when hunted by
dogs in a clear pond. Nor do I know that any one
has given a reason why the wings of diving fowls are
placed so forward : doubtless, not for the purpose of
promoting their speed in flying, since that position
certainly impedes it ;-but probably for .the increase

of their motion under water, by the use of four oars
Io3

instead of two; yet, were the wings and feet nearer
together, as in land-birds, they would, when in ac-
tion, rather hinder than assist one another.

This co/ym/ms was of considerable bulk, weighing
only three drachms short of three pounds avoirdu-
pois. It measured in length from the bill to the tail
(which was very short) two feet, and to the extremi-
ties of the toes four inches more ; and the breadth of
the wings expanded was forty-two inches. A person
attempted to eat the body, but found it very strong
and rancid, as is the flesh of all birds living on fish.
Divers or loons, though bred in the most northerly
parts of Europe, yet are seen with us in very severe
winters; and on the Thames are called sprat loons,
because they prey much on that sort of fish.

The legs of the cob/ml)? and mrrgz' are placed so
very backward and so out of all centre of gravity,
that these birds cannot walk at all. They are called
by Linnaeus campaign, because they move on the
ground as if shackled or fettered.

A man brought me a, landrail or daker-hen, a bird
so rare in this district that we seldom see more than
one or two in a season, and those only in autumn.
This is deemed a bird of passage by all the writers:
yet from its formation seems to be poorly qualified
for migration; for its wings are short, and placed so
forward and out of the centre of gravity, that it flies
in a very heavy and embarrassed manner, with its

legs hanging down ; and can hardly be sprung a sec-
104

‘

ond time, as it runs very fast, and seems to depend
more on the swiftness of its feet than on its flying.

When we came to draw it, we found the entrails
so soft and tender, that in appearance they might
have been dressed like the ropes of a woodcock.
The craw or crop was small and lank, containing a
mucus ; the gizzard thick and strong, and filled with
small shell-snails, some whole, and many ground to
pieces through the attrition which is occasioned by
the muscular force and motion of that intestine. We
saw no gravels among the food; perhaps the shell-
snails might perform the functions of gravels or peb-
bles, and might grind one another. Landrails used
to abound formerly, I remember, in the low wet
bean-fields of Christian Malford in North Wilts, and
in the meadows near Paradise Gardens at Oxford,
where I have often heard them cry “crex, crex.”
The bird mentioned above weighed 7% 02., was fat\
and tender, and in flavour like the flesh of a wood-
cock. The liver was very large and delicate.]——OB-
.SERVATIONS ON NATURE.

LETTER XXVI.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

IT gives me satisfaction to find that my account

of the ousel migration pleases you. You put a very
IO 105

shrewd question when you ask me how I know that
their autumnal migration is southward? Was not
candour and openness the very life of natural his-
tory, I should pass over this query just as a sly com-
mentator does over a crabbed passage in a classic;
but common ingenuousness obliges me to confess,
not without some degree of shame, that I only rea-
soned in that case from analogy. For as all other
autumnal birds migrate from the northward to us, to
partake of our milder winters, and return to the
. northward again when the rigorous cold abates, so I
concluded that the ring-ousels did the same, as well
as their congeners the fieldfares; and especially as
ring-ousels are known to haunt cold mountainous
countries: but I have good reason to suspect since
that they may come to us from the westward; be-
cause I hear, from very good authority, that they
breed on Dartmoor, and that they forsake that wild
district about the time that our visitors appear, and
do not return till late in the spring.

I have taken a great deal of pains about your
salz’carz'a and mine, with a white stroke over its eye
and a tawny rump. I have surveyed it alive and
dead, and have procured several specimens ; and am
perfectly persuaded myself (and trust you will soon
be convinced of the same) that it is neither more
nor less than the Passer arzmx/z'uaceus minor of Ray.
This bird, by some means or other, seems to be en:

)

tirely omitted in the “British Zoology ;’ and one

I06

reason probably was, because it is so strangely
classed in Ray, who ranges it among his Pz'cz' afines.
It ought no doubt to have gone among his small
birds with the tail of one colour (Amalia caudci 2mi-
colore), and among your slender-billed birds of the
same division. Linnaeus might, with great propriety,
have put it into his genus of motaéz'lla, and the 1110-
tacz'lla sa/z'carz'a of his “ Fauna Succica ” seems to come
the nearest to it. It is no uncommon bird, haunting
the sides of ponds and rivers where there is covert,
and the reeds and Sedges of moors. The country ~
people in some places call itthe sedge-bird. It sings
incessantly night and day during the breeding time,
imitating the note of a sparrow, a swallow, a sky-
lark, and has a strange hurrying manner in its song.
My specimens correspond most minutely to the de-
scription of your fen-salz'carz'a shot near Revesby.
Mr. Ray has given an excellent characteristic of it\
when he says,—“Rostrzmz at pedes in kdc (mica/cf multd
mag/ores sémz‘ quam pro corporz's ratzbne." “ The beak
. and feet of this little bird are much too large for its
bodyX’

I have got you the egg of an oedz'cnemus, or. stone-
curlew, which was picked up in 'a fallow on the
naked ground: there were two; but the finder in-
advertently crushed one with his foot before he saw
them.

When I wrote to you last year on reptiles, I wish

Ihad not forgot to mention the faculty that snakes
_ 107 .

have of stinking to defend themselves, 53 ([(fl'lllll’lllllfl.

I knew :1 gentleman who kept a tzune snake, which

 

All/(Ur;r t/n' fil'i[;r,')‘117:1.r.

was in its person as sweet as (my animal while in
good humour and unalarmed: but as soon as a
stranger. or :1 (logr or cut, came in. it fell to hissing,
:uul filled the room with such nauseous Cllluvin as
rendered it hardly supportable. Thus the skunck, or

stonek, ol Ray's Synop. Qu:uir., is an innOCuous and

108

sweet animal; but, when pressed hard by dogs and
men, it can eject such a most pestilent and fetid
smell and excrement, than which nothing can be
more horrible.

A gentleman sent me lately a finespecimen of
the Larzz'us minor cz’nemsceizs cum mam/(i 2'72 scapu/z's alZm
Raz'z'; which is a bird that, at the time of your pub-
lishing your first two volumes of British Zoology, I
find you had not seen. You have described it well
from Edwards’s drawing.

SELBORNE,z4ug.30,I769.

LETTER XXVII.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

\

WHEN I did myself the honour to write to you
about the end of last June on the subject of natural
history, I sent you a list of the summer birds of pas-
sage which I have observed'in this neighbourhood;
and also a list of the winter birds of passage: I
mentioned besides those soft-billed birds that stay
with us the winter through in the south of Eng-
land, and those that are remarkable for singing in
the night.

According to my proposal, I shall now proceed

to such birds (singing birds strictly so called) as
' 109

continue in full song till after Midsummer; and shall

range them somewhat in the order in which they

first begin to open as the spring advances.

IO.

II.

12.

13.

I4.
15.

16.

. VVoodlark,

. Song-thrush,

. Wren,

. Redbreast,
. Hedge-spar-

row,

. Yellow-ham-

mer,

. Skylark,
. Swallow,

. Blackcap,

Titlark,

Blackbird,

VVhite-throat,

Goldfinch,

Gr eenfinch,

RAII NOMINA.

In January, and continues to
sing through all the summer

Alauda arborea. {
and autumn.

J Tura’us sz'mplz'cz'ter I' In February and on to August,

'1 diam. L reassumetheirsonginautumn.
Passertz’og/oa’j'tes {All the year, haid frost ex-
cepted.

Ruba'u/a. LDitto.
l va‘um. Early in February to July the
J 10th.
1 Early in February, and on
i Emécn'saflava. J through July to August the

L 21st.

In February, and on to October.

From April to September.

Beginning of April to July the
13th.

From middle of April to July
the 16th.

Sometimes in February and
March, and so on to July the
23rd; reassumes in autumn.

JIn April and on to July the

L 231d.

(April, and through to Septem-

ber the 16th.
011 to July and August the 2nd.

A [amid tilt/gawk.
Hz'nma’o domestz‘c'a.

A l; z'azpz'lla.

fl/ern/a vulgaris.

A/aua’a pratorzmz. {

Fz'a’a’zt/(z (film's.

Carduelz's.
C/z/orz's.

L653 1eed Spar- HD0556” anma’ma l May on to beginning of July.
’

I'O W,

Common
net,

lin- . . .
Lmana vulgarzs. 1

L rem mmor.
till

reassumes its note

J{Breeds and whistles on

August ;

when they begin to congre-

gate in October, and again

early before the flocks sepa-
L rate.

IIO

Birds that cease to be in full song, and are usually
silent. at or before midsummer:—

RAII NOMINA.
I7. Middlewillow- Regulus mm cris- {Middle of June: begins in
wren, tatus. April.
18. Redstart, thtz'rz'lla. Ditto: begins in May.
19. Chaffinch, Frz'ngz'lla. {Be'glnning of June: Sings hrst
L In February.
20. Nightingale, Luscz'm'a. Middle of June: s1ngs first in
L April.

Birds that sing for a short time, and very early in
the spring :—

rJanuary the 2nd, 1770, in Feb-
ruary. Is called in Hampshire
and Sussex the storm-cock,
21. Missel-bird, ' Tum’us m'scz'vorusw because its song is supposed
to forbode windy, wet weath-
er: is the largest singing bird

 

\ we have.
22. Great Tit- ] {In February, March, April: re-
mouse, or fFrz'ugi/[aga assumes for a short time in
Ox-eye, J September.

Birds that have somewhat of a note or song, and
yet are hardly to be called singing birds :—

Its note as minute as its per-
23. Golden-crown-L son: frequents the tops of

[Regulus crz'status.
ed wren, J

l

I

i high oaks and firs : the small-

L est British bird.

24. Marsh-tit- [Haunts great woods : two
L

Parus palustris.
mouse,

harsh, sharp notes.
25. Small willow-l Regulus non cris- Sings in March, and on to Sep-
wren. Jr talus. tember.
26. Largest ditto, Ditto. “ Cantat voce stridula locustm ;”
L from end of Aprll to August.
27. Grasshopper- Alauda minima {Chirps all night,from the middle
lark, } voce locustaz. L of April to the end of July.

III

28.
29.

30.

[All the breeding time; from

Martin, llirzma’o agrestz's. ‘
' [ May to beptember.
Bu] 1 ii n ch, Pyrr/z u/a.
Bunting, Embcriza (1M0. [From the end Of January to

july.

All singing birds, and those that have any pre-

tensions to song, not only in Britain, but perhaps

the world through, come under the Linnaaan ordo of

fmssvn’s.

The above-mentioned birds, as they stand numer-

ically, belong to the following Linnaean genera :—

I, 7, IO, 27. Akin/a. 8, 28. l/z'rzma’o.
2, II, 21. Tun/us. I3. 16, 19. Fringi/la.
3. 4. 5. q. 12. 15. ‘1. . .

I7, 18, 20‘ 23, 25’ 26.] fl/(I/(ICIZ/(Z. 22, 24. Palm.

6, 3o. Embw‘iza. I4, 29. Loxia.

Birds that sing as they fly are but few :—

RAII NOMINA.

Skylark, A/um/a wit/garb. Rising, suspended, and falling.
r In its descent; also sitting on
I .

Titlark, A/(ma’a fun/arm”. l trees, and walking on the
l ground.

Woodlark, Alum/a (Ir/20mm Jr Suspended ; _m hOt summer
l nights all night long.

Blackbird, Alrru/a. Sometimes from bush to bush.

\Nhite-throat Firm/111a 01%)”: l Uses when singing on the wing

L ’ . 3 .'

I odd jerks and gesticulations.

Swallow, l/z'rmm’o domestim. In soft sunny weather.
Wren, Pasxrr trog/oufr/m. Sometimes from bushto bush.

Birds that breed most early in these parts :—

Raven, (70mm. H atches in February and March.
Song-th ru sh, Tun/us. In March.
Blackbird, [Vern/a. Ditto.

I I2

Rook, Corm'x frugi/eg‘a. Builds the beginning of March.

Woodlark, A/aua’a (17507??de Hatches in April.
. » -l
Ring-dove, {Pajaméus [(27qu l Lays the beginning of April.
us. 2

All birds that continue in full song till after Mid-
summer appear to me to breed more than once.

Most. kinds of birds seem to me to be wild and
shy somewhat in proportion to their bulk; I mean in
this island, where they are much pursued and an-
noyed: but in Ascension Island, and many other
desolate places, mariners
have found fowls so
unacquainted with a
human figure, that
they would stand still
to be taken; as is the
case with boobies, &c.
As an example of
what is advanced, 1
remark that the golden-
crested wren (the smallest
British bird) will stand un-
concerned until you come
within three or four yards of it, while the bustard
(012's), the largest British land fowl, does not care to
admit a person within so many furlongs.

 

‘Goldm-crestea' wrem.

SELBORNE, Nov. 2, I769.

LETTER XXVIII.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

I WAS much gratified by your communicative let-
ter on your return from Scotland, where you spent,
I find, some considerable time, and gave yourself
good room to examine the natural curiosities of that
extensive kingdom, both those of the islands, as well
as those of the highlands. The usual bane of such
expeditions is hurry; because men seldom allot them-
selves half the time they should do: but, fixing on a
day for their return, post from place to place, rather
as if they were on a journey that required despatch,
than as philosophers investigating the works of na-
ture. You must have made, no doubt, many dis-
coveries, and laid up a good fund of materials for a.
future edition of the British Zoology; and will have
no reason to repent that you have bestowed so much
pains on a part of Great Britain that perhaps was
never so well examined before.

It has always been matter of wonder to me that
fieldfares, which are so congenerous to thrushes and
blackbirds, should never choose to breed in England:
but that they should not think even the highlands
cold and northerly, and sequestered enough, is a cir-
cumstance still more strange and wonderful. The
ring-ousel, you find, stays in Scotland the whole year

round : so that we have reason to conclude that those
114

migrators that visit us for a short space every au-
tumn do not come from thence. i

And here, I think, will be the proper place to
mention that those birds were most punctual again
in their migration this autumn, appearing, as before,
about the thirtieth of September: but their flocks
were larger than common, and their stay protracted
somewhat beyond the usual time. If they came to
spend the whole winter with us, as some of their con-
geners do, and then left us, as they do, in/spring, I
should not beso much struck with the occurrence,
since it would be similar to that of the other winter
birds of passage; but when I see them for a fort-
night at Michaelmas, and again for about a week in
the beginning of April, Iam seized with wonder, and
long to be informed whence these travellers come,
and whither they go, since they seem to use our
hills merely as an inn or baiting-place.

Your account of the greater brambling, or snow
flock, is very amusing; and strange it is that such a
short-winged bird should delight in such perilous
, voyages over the northern ocean! Some country
people in the winter time have every now and then
told me that they have seen two or three white larks
on our downs; but, on considering the matter, I be-
ginto suspect that these are some stragglers of the
birds we are talking of, which sometimes perhaps
may rove so far to the southward.

It pleases me to find that white hares are so fre-
115

quent on the Scottish mountains, and especially as
you inform me that it is a distinct species, for the
quadrupeds of Britain are so few, that every new
species is a great acquisition.

The eagle-owl, could it be proved to belong to us,
is so majestic a bird that it would grace our fauna
much. I never was informed before where wild
geese are known to breed.

You admit, I find, that I have proved your fen-
salz'carz'a to be the lesser reed-sparrow of Ray : and I
think you may be secure that I am right; for I took
very particular pains to clear up that matter, and
had some fair specimens ; but, as they were not well
preserved, they are decayed already. You will, no
doubt, insert it in its proper place in your next
edition. Your additional plates will much improve
your work.

De Buffon, I know, has described the water
shrew-mouse; but still I am pleased to find you
have discovered it in Lincolnshire, for the reason 1
have given in the article of the white hare.

As a neighbour was lately ploughing in a dry
chalky field, far removed from any water, he turned
out a water-rat, that was curiously laid up in an by-
bernaculum artificially formed of grass and leaves.
At one end of the burrow lay about a gallon of po-
tatoes regularly stowed, on which it was to have sup-
ported itself for the winter. But the difficulty with

me is how this amp/zz'éz'z/s mus came to fix its win-
116

ter station at such a distance from the water. Was
it determined in its choice of that place by the mere
accident of finding the potatoes which were planted
there? or is it the practice of the aquatic rat to for-
sake the neighbourhood of the water in the colder
months?

Though I delight very little in analogous reason-
ing, knowing how fallacious it is with respect to nat-
ural history; yet, in the following instance, I cannot
help being inclined to think it may conduce towards
the explanation of a difficulty that I have mentioned
before, with respect to the invariable early retreat of
the Hz'rmzdo apus, or swift, so many weeks before its
congeners; and that not only with us, but also in
Andalusia, where they also begin to retire about the
beginning of August.

The great large bat* (which by the way is at
present a nondescript in England, and what I have
never been able yet to procure) retires or migrates
very early in the summer: it also ranges very high
for its food, feeding in a different region of the air:
and that is the reason I never could procure one.
‘ Now this is exactly the case with the swifts, for they
take their food in a more exalted region than the
other Species, and are very seldom seen hawking for
flies near the ground, or over the surface of the

 

* The little Bat appears almost every month in the year ; but I have
never seen the large one till the end of April, nor after July. They are
most common in June, but never very plentiful.

117

water. From hence I would conclude that these
hirinm’z'nes, and the larger bats, are supported by
some sorts of highflying gnats, scarabs, or {Ma/mm
that are short of continuance; and that the short
stayof these strangers is regulated by the defect of
their food.

By my journal it appears that curlews clamoured
on to October the 3Ist; since which I have not seen
or heard any. Swallows were observed on to No-
vember the third.

SELBORNE, Dec. 8, I769.

LETTER XXIX.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

IT was no small matter of satisfaction to me to
find that you were not displeased with my little
met/zodus of birds. If there is any merit in the sketch,
it must be in its exactness. For many months I car—
ried a list in my pocket of the birds that were to
be remarked on; and, as I rode or walked about, I
noted each day the continuance or omission of each
bird’s song; so that I am as sure of my facts as a
man can be of any transaction whatsoever.

I shall now proceed to answer the several queries
which you put in your two obliging letters, in the

best manner that I am able. Perhaps Eastwick, and
118

its environs, where you heard so very few birds, is
not a woodland country, and therefore not stocked
with such songsters. If you will cast your eye on
my last letter, you will find that many species con-
tinued to warble after the beginning of July.

The titlark and yellowhammer breed late, the lat-
ter very late; and therefore it is no wonder that
they protract their song: for I lay it down as a
maxim in ornithology, that as long as there is any
incubation going on there is music. As to the red-
breast and wren, it is well known to the most in-
curious observer that they whistle the year round,
hard frost excepted ; especially the latter.

It was not in my power to procure you a black-
cap, or a lesser reed-sparrow, or sedge-bird, alive.
As the first is undoubtedly, and the last, as far as I
can yet see, a summer bird of passage, they would
require more nice and curious management in a cage
than I should be able to give them: they are both
distinguished songsters. The note' of the blackcap
has such a wild sweetness that it always brings to
' my mind those lines in a song in As You Like Ii,—

“ And tune his merry note

Unto the wild bird’s throat.”
‘ SHAKESPEARE.

The sedge-bird has a surprising variety of notes
resembling the song of several other birds ; but then

it has also a hurrying manner, not at all to its advan-

tage : it is notwithstanding a delicate polyglot.
119

It is new to me that titlarks in cages sing in the
night ; perhaps only caged birds do so. I once knew
a tame redbreast in a cage that always sang as long
as candles were in the room ; .but in their wild state
no one supposes they sing in the night.

I should be almost ready to doubt the fact, that
there are to be seen much fewer birds in July than
in any former month, notwithstanding so many
young are hatched daily. Sure I am that it is far
otherwise with respect to the swallow tribes, which
increase prodigiously as the summer advances. I
saw, at the time mentioned, many hundreds of young
wagtails on the banks of the Cherwell, which almost
covered the meadows. If the matter appears as you
say in the other species, may it not be owing to the
dams being engaged in incubation, while the young
are concealed by the leaves?

Many times have I had the curiosity to open the
stomach of woodcocks and snipes; but nothing ever
occurred that helped to explain to me what their
subsistence might be: all that I could ever find was
a soft mucus, among which lay many pellucid small _
gravels.

SELBORNE, fan. 15, I770.

120

LETTER XXX.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

YOUR observation that “ the cuckoo does not de—
posit its egg indiscriminately in the nest of the first
bird that comes in its way, but probably looks out
a nurse in some degree congenerous, with whom
to intrust its young,” is perfectly new to me; and
struck me so forcibly, that l naturally fell into a train
of thought that led me to consider whether the fact
was so, and what reason there
was for it. When I came
to recollect and inquire, , .
I could not find that l ' I
any cuckoo had ever
been seen in these
parts, except in the
nest. of the wagtail, the
hedge-sparrow, the tit-
lark, the Whitethroat,
and the redbreast, all
soft-billed insectivorous
birds. The excellent Mr.
Willughby mentions the
nest of the palm/21m: (ring-dove) and of the frz'zzgz'lla
(chaffinch), birds that subsist on acorns and grains,
and such hard food: but then he does not mention

them as of his own knowledge, but says afterwards
II _ Ir2I

 

77w rut/{’00.

that he saw himself a wagtail feeding a cuckoo. It
appears hardly possible that a soft-billed bird should
subsist on the same food with the hard-billed; for
the former have thin membranaceous stomachs suited
to their soft food, while the latter, the granivor—
ous tribe, have strong muscular gizzards, which,
like mills, grind, by the help of small gravels and
pebbles, what is swallowed. This proceeding of
the cuckoo, of dropping its eggs as it were by
chance, is such a monstrous outrage on maternal
affection, one of the first great dictates of nature,
and such a violence on instinct, that, had it only
been related of a bird in the Brazils, or Peru,
it would never have merited our belief. But yet,
should it farther appear that this simple bird, when
divested of that natural a'ropvyfi that seems to raise
the kind in general above themselves, and inspire
them with extraordinary degrees of cunning and ad-
dress, may be still endued with a more enlarged
faculty of discerning what species are suitable and
congenerous nursing mothers for its disregarded
eggs and young, and may deposit them only under
their care, this would be adding wonder to wonder,
and instancing, in a fresh manner, that the methods
of Providence are not subjected to any mode or rule,
but astonish us in new lights, and in various and
changeable appearances.

What was said by a very ancient and sublime

writer concerning the defect of natural affection in
122

the ostrich may be well applied to the bird we are
talking of :—

“ Ske is hardened against lzer young ones, as thong/z
t/zey were not ners .-

“Beoause God liar/z deprived lier of wisdom, neit/zer
nat/z He imparted to her understanding.” (Job xxxix.
16, 17.)

Does each female cuckoo lay but one egg in a
season, or does she drop several in different nests,
according as opportunity offers?

SELBORNE.1%&.19,I770.

LETTER XXXI.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

HEDGE-HOGS abound in my gardens and fields.
\The manner in which they eat the roots of the plan-
tain in the grass-walk is very curious: with their
upper mandible, which is much longer than their
. lower, they bore under the plant, and so eat the root
off upwards, leaving the tuft of leaves untouched. In
this respect they are serviceable, as they destroy a
very troublesome weed; but they deface’the walks
in some measure by digging little round holes.
It appears,» by the dung that they drop upon the
turf, that beetles are no inconsiderable part of their

food. In June last I procured a litter of five or
1%

six young hedgehogs, which appeared to be about
five or six days old; they, I find, like puppies, are
born blind, and could not see when they came to my
hands. No doubt their

spines are soft and. flexi-
ble at the time of their
birth, or else the poor
dam would have but

a bad time of it in the

 

critical moment of par—
turition: but it is plain

A [ledge/10g.

that they soon harden;
for these little pigs have such stiff prickles on their
backs and sides as would easily have fetched blood,
had they not been handled with caution. Their
spines are quite white at this age; and they have
little hanging ears, which I do not remember to be
discernible in the old ones. They can, in part, at
this age draw their skin down over their faces; but
are not able to contract themselves into a ball, as
they do, for the sake of defence, when full grown.
The reason, I suppose, is because the curious mus-
cle that enables the creature to roll itself up in a
ball was not then arrived at its full tone and firm—
ness. Hedge-hogs make a deep and warm hyber-
naculum with leaves and moss, in which they con-
ceal themselves for the winter: but I never could
find that they stored in any winter provision, as some

quadrupeds certainly do.
124

I have discovered an anecdote with respect to the
fieldfare (Tum’us pz'larz's), which I think is particular
enough: this bird, though it sits on trees in the day-
time, and procures the greatest part of its food from
whitethorn hedges; yea, moreover, builds on 'very
high trees, as may be seen by the “Fauna Suecica,"
yet always appears with us to roost on the ground.
They are seen to come in flocks just before it is dark,
and to settle and nestle among the heath on our for-
est. And besides, the larkers, in dragging their nets
by night, frequently catch them in the wheat stub-
bles; while the bat-fowlers, who take many redwings
in the hedges, never entangle any of this species.
Why these birds, in the matter of roosting, should
differ from all their congeners, and from themselves
also with respect to their proceedings by day, is a
fact for which I am by no means able to account.

I have somewhat to inform you of concerning the
moose-deer; but in general foreign animals fall sel-
dom in my way; my little intelligence is confined to‘
the narrow sphere of my own observations at home.

SELBORNE, Fri}. 22, I770.

125

LETTER XXXII.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

ON Michaelmas-day, 1768, I managed to get a
sight of the female moose belonging to the Duke 'of
Richmond, at Goodwood; but was greatly disap-
pointed, when I arrived at the Spot, to find that it
died, after having appeared in a languishing way for
some time, on the morning before. However, under-
standing that it was not stripped, I proceeded to ex-
amine this rare quadruped: I found it in an old
green-house, slung under the belly and chin by
ropes, and in a standing posture ; but, though it had
been dead for so short a time, it was in so putrid a
state that the stench was hardly supportable. The
grand distinction between this deer, and any other
species that I have ever met with, consisted in the
strange length of its legs; on which it was tilted up
much in the manner of the birds of the ngZaz order.
I measured it, as they do an horse, and found that,
from the ground to the wither, it was just five feet
four inches, which height answers exactly to sixteen
hands, a growth that few horses arrive at: but then,
with this length of legs, its neck was remarkably
short, no more than twelve inches; so that, by strad-
dling with one foot forward and the other backward,
it grazed on the plain ground, with the greatest diffi-

culty, between its legs: the ears were vast and lop-
126

ping, and as long-as the neck; the head was about
twenty inches long, and ass-like; and had such a re-
dundancy of upper lip as I never saw before, with
huge nostrils. This lip, travellers say, is esteemed a
dainty dish in North America. It is very reasonable
to suppose that this creature supports itself chiefly
by browsing of trees, and by wading after water
plants; towards which way of livelihood the length
of legs and great lip must contribute much. I have
read somewhere that it delights in eating the nym-
p/zwa, or water-lily. From the fore-feet to the belly
behind the shoulder it measured three feet and eight

' the length of the legs before and behind con-
sisted a great deal in the tibia, which was strangely
long; but, in my haste to get out of the stench, I for-
got to measure that joint exactly. Its scut seemed
to be about an inch long; the colour was a grizzly
black; the mane about four inches long; the fore-
hoofs were upright and shapely, the hind flat and
splayed. The spring before, it was only two years
old, so that most probably it was not then come to
its growth. What a vast tall beast must a full-grown
stag be! I have been told that some arrive at ten
feet and a half! This poor creature had at first a
female companion of the same species, which died
the spring before. In the same garden was a young
stag, or red deer, between whom and this moose it was
hoped that there might have been a breed ; but their

inequality of height must always be a bar. I should
127

have been glad to have examined the teeth, tongue,
lips, hoofs, &c., minutely; but the putrefaction pre-
cluded all further curiosity. This animal, the keeper
told me, seemed to enjoy itself best in the extreme
frost-of the former winter. In the house they showed
me the horn of a male moose, which had no front-
antlers, but only a broad palm with some snags on
the edge. The noble owner of the dead moose pro-
posed to make a skeleton of her bones.

Please to let me hear if my female moose corre-
sponds with that you saw; and whether you think
still that the American moose and European elk are
the same creature.

SELBORNE, Alan/z, I770.

LETTER XXXIII.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

I HEARD many birds of several species sing last
year after Midsummer; enough to prove that the
summer solstice is not the period that puts a stop to
the music of the woods. The yellow-hammer, no
doubt, persists with more steadiness than any other;
but the woodlark, the wren, the redbreast, the swal-
low, the white-throat, the goldfinch, the common lin-
net, are all undoubted instances of the truth of what

I advance.
128

If this severe season does

not interrupt the regu-

larity of the summer migrations, the blackcap will be

here in -two or three days.

 
 
 
 
 

 

/\

....._'- -.-,,-

Song t/zruslzes.

I wish it was in my
power to procure you
one of those songsters;
but I am no bird-
catcher; and so little
used to birds in a cage,
that I fear if I had one
it would soon die for
want of skill in feeding.
Was your reed-spar-

row, which you
kept in a cage, the
thick - billed reed-
sparrow of the
“Zoology,” p. 30;
or was it the less
reed - sparrow of
Ray, the sedge-bird\
of Mr. Pennant’s
“Zoology,” p. 16?

As to the matter of long-billed birds growing

fatter in moderate frost, I have doubt within myself

what should be the reason.

The thriving at those

times appears to me to arise altogether from the

gentle check which the cold

throws upon insensible

perspiration. The case is just the same with black-

birds, &c.; and farmers and
129

warreners observe, the

first, that their hogs fatten more kindly at such times,
and the latter, that their rabbits are never in such
good case as in a gentle frost. But when frosts are
severe, and of long continuance, the case is soon al-
tered; for then a want of food soon overbalances the
repletion occasioned by a checked perspiration. I
have observed, moreover, that some human constitu-
tions are more inclined to plumpness in winter than
in summer.

When birds come to suffer by severe frost, I find
that the first that fail and die are the redwing, field-
fares, and then the song-thrushes.

You wonder, with good reason, that the hedge-
sparrows, &c. can be induced at all to sit on the egg
of the cuckoo without being scandalized at the vastly
disproportioned size of the supposititious egg; but
the brute creation, I suppose, have very little idea of
size, colour, or number. For the common hen, as I
know, when the fury of incubation is on her, will
sit on a single shapeless stone instead of a nest
full of eggs that have been withdrawn: and, more-
over, a hen-turkey, in the same circumstances,
[would sit on in the empty nest till she perished with
hungen ,

I think the matter might easily be determined
whether a cuckoo lays one or two eggs, or more, in
a season, by opening a female during the laying-time.
If more than one was come down out of the ovary,

and advanced to a good size, doubtless then she
130

would that spring lay more than one. I will endeav-
our to get a hen, and examine her.

Your supposition that there may be some natural
obstruction in singing birds while they are mute,
and that when this is removed the song recom-
mences, is new and bold: I wish you could discover
some good grounds for this suspicion.

I was glad you were pleased with my specimen
of the caprz'mu/gm, or fern-owl; you were, I find, ac-
quainted with the bird before.

When we meet, 1 shall be glad to have some con-
versation with you concerning the proposal you
make of my drawing up an account of the animals in
this neighbourhood. Your partiality towards my
small abilities persuades you,l fear, that Iam able
to do more than is in my power: for it is no small
undertaking for a man unsupported and alone to
begin a natural history from his own autopsia!
Though there is endless room for observation in the
field of nature, which is boundless, yet investigation
(where a man endeavours to be sure of his facts) can
make but slow progress; and all that one could col-
lect in many years would go into a very narrow
compass.

Some extracts from your ingenious “Investiga-
tions of the difference between the present tempera-
ture of the air in Italy,” &c. have fallen in my way;
and gave me great satisfaction; they have removed

the objections that always arose in my mind when-
131

ever I came to the passages which you quote.
Surely the judicious Virgil, when writing a didactic
poem for the region of Italy, could never think of
describing freezing rivers, unless such severity of
weather pretty frequently occurred!

Two swallows have appeared amidst snows and

frost.

SELBORNE, April 12, I770.

LETTER XXXIV.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

LAST month we had such a‘ series of cold turbu-
lent weather, such a constant succession of frost, and
snow, and hail, and tempest, that the regular migra-
tion or appearance of the summer birds was much
interrupted. Some, as the blackcap and white-
throat, did not show themselves (at least‘were not
heard) till weeks after their usual time; and some, as
the grasshopper-lark and largest willow-wren, have
not been heard yet. As to the fly-catcher, I have not
seen it; it is indeed one of the latest, but should ap-
pear about this time: and yet, amidst all this mete-
orous strife and war of the elements, two swallows
discovered themselves as long ago as the 11th of
April, in frost and snow; but they withdrew quickly

and were not visible again for many days. House—
132

 

)1.

) gun/1

(II/(11f:

‘Vzl/K' {u (I (

u

K'r/zmz'

’ fizzr

772:

 

martins, which are always more backward than
swallows, were not observed till May came in.

Among the monogamous birds several are to be
found single after pairing-time, and of each sex : but
whether this state of celibacy is matter of choice or
necessity, is not so easily discoverable. When the
house-sparrows deprive my martins of their nests, as
soon as I cause one to be shot, the other, be it cock
or hen, presently procures a mate, and so for several
times following.

I have known a dove-house infested by a pair
of white owls, which made great havoc among the
young pigeons: one of the owls was shot as soon as
possible; but the survivor readily found a mate, and
the mischief went on. After some time the new pair
were both destroyed, and the annoyance ceased.

Another instance I remember of a sportsman,
whose zeal for the increase of his game being greater
than his humanity, after paring-time he always shot
the cock—bird of every couple of partridges upon his
grounds; supposing that the rivalry of many males
interrupted the breed: he used to say, that, though
he had widowed the same hen several times, yet he
‘ found that she was still provided with a fresh para—
mour, that did not take her away from her usual
haunt

Again: I knew a lover of setting, an old sports-
man, who has often told me that soon after harvest

he has frequently taken small coveys of partridges,
I33

consisting of cock-birds alone; these he pleasantly
used to call old bachelors.

There is a propensity belonging to common
house—cats that is very remarkable; I mean their
violent fondness for fish, which appears to be their
most favourite food: and yet nature in this instance
seems to have planted in them an appetite that, un-
assisted, they know not how to gratify: for of all
quadrupeds cats are the least disposed towards
water; and will not, when they can avoid it, deign to
wet a foot, much less to plunge into that element.

Quadrupeds that prey on fish are amphibious:
such is the otter, which by nature is so well formed
for diving, that it makes great havoc among the in-
habitants of the waters. Not supposing that we had
any of those beasts in our shallow brooks, I was
much pleased to see a male otter brought to me,
weighing twenty-one pounds, that had been shot on
the bank of our stream below the Priory, where the
rivulet divides the parish of Selborne from Harteley-
wood.

[One of my neighbours shot a ring-dove on an
evening as it was returning from feed and going to
roost. When his wife had picked and drawn it, she
found its craw stuffed with the most nice and tender
tops of turnips. These she washed and boiled, and
so sat down to a choice and delicate plate of greens,
culled and provided in this extraordinary manner.

Hence we may see that graminivorous birds,
I34

when grain fails, can subsist on the leaves of vege-
tables. There is reason to suppose that they would
not long be healthy without, for turkeys, though
corn-fed,‘delight in a variety of plants, such as cab-
bage, lettuce, endive, &c., and poultry pick much
grass; while geese live for months together on com-
mons by grazing alone.

“ Nought is useless made ; —- —- —
— —- — — On the barren heath
The shepherd tends his flock that daily crop
Their verdant dinner from the mossy turf
Sufficient : after‘them the cackling goose,
Close-grazer, finds wherewith to ease her want."
PHILIPPS’S Cyder.]

——OBSERVATIONS ON NATURE.

SELBORNE, Alay 12, I770.

LETTER XXXV.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

/

THE severity and turbulence of last month so in-
terrupted the regular process of summer migration,
that some of the birds do but just begin to show
themselves, and others, as the whitethroat, the black-
cap, the redstart, the fly-catcher, are apparently thin-
ner than usual. I well remember that after the very
severe spring in the year 1739—40, summer birds of

passage were very scarce. They come hither proba-
12 I35

bly with a south-east wind, or when it blows between
those points; but in that unfavourable year the winds
blowed the whole spring and summer through from
the opposite quarters. And yet amidst all these dis-
advantages, two swallows, as I mentioned in my last,
appeared this year as early as the eleventh of April,
amidst frost and snow; but they withdrew again for
a time.

I am not pleased to find that some people seem so
little satisfied with Scopoli’s new publication, "‘ Annus
Primus Historico-Naturalis.” There is room to ex-
pect great things from the hands of that man, who is
a good naturalist: and one would think that an his-
tory of the birds of so distant and southern a region
as Carniola would be new and interesting. I could
wish to see the work, and hope to get it sent down.
Dr. Scopoli is physician to the wretches that work
in the quicksilver mines of that district. I

When you talked of keeping a reed-sparrow, and
giving it seeds, I could not help wondering; because
the reed-sparrow which I mentioned to you (Passer
aruna’z'rmceus minor Raii)* is a soft-billed bird, and
most probably migrates hence before winter;
Whereas the bird you kept (Passer torquaz‘us Raii)1'
abides all the year, and is a thick-billed bird. I
question whether the latter be much of a songster;
but in this matter I want to be better informed. The

 

* Sedge-warbler, Salz'can'aplzragmitis, Selby.
f Reed-bunting, Emberz'za sc/zwm'c/us, Linn.
136

former has a variety of hurrying notes, and sings all
night. .Some part of the song of the former, I sus-
pect, is attributed to the latter. We have plenty of
the soft-billed sort, which Mr. Pennant had entirely
left out of his “British Zoology,” till I reminded him
of his omission.*

I have somewhat to advance on the different
manners in which different birds fly and walk; but
as this is a subject that I have not enough consid-
ered, and is of such a nature as not to be contained
in a small space, I shall say nothing further about it
at presentil

No doubt the reason why the sex of birds in their
first plumage is so difficult to be distinguished is, as
you say, “because they are not to pair and discharge
their parental functions till the ensuing spring.” As
colours seem to be the chief external sexual distinc-
tion in many birds, these colours do not take place
till sexual attachments commence. The case is the
same with quadrupeds, among whom, in their
younger days, the sexes differ but little; but, as they
advance to maturity, horns and shaggy manes, beards
and brawny necks, &c., strongly discriminate the
~ male from the female. We may instance still further
in our own species, where a beard and stronger
features are usually characteristic of the male sex;
but this sexual diversity does not take place in earlier

 

* See Letter XXVI.. to Mr. Pennant, August 30, 1769.
f See Letter LXXXIV., to Mr. Barrington, August 7, I778.
I37

life, for a beautiful youth shall be so like a beautiful
girl that the difference shall not be discernible :—

“ Quem si puellarum insereres choro,
Mire sagaces falleret hospites
Discrimen obscurum, solutis

Crinibus, ambiguoque vultu.”
HOR. (11. v. 21-24.)

“ A fellow who, if you put him among a parcel of girls, the difficulty
of distinguishing him from them would puzzle a very quick-sighted host,
thanks to his long hairs and smooth ambiguous face.”

SELBORNE, May 21, I770.

LETTER XXXVI.

To THOMAS PENNAN’I‘, ESQ.

THE French, I think, in general are strangely
prolix in their natural history. What Linnaeus says
with respect to insects holds good in every other
branch: “ Verbositas praesentis saeculi, calamitas
artis.” “The verbosity of the present generation is
the calamity of art.’

Pray how do you approve of Scopoli’s new work?
as I admire his “ Entomologia,” I long to see it.

I forgot to mention in my last letter (and had not
room to insert it in the former) that the male moose,
in rutting time, swims from island to island, in the
lakes and rivers of North America, in pursuit of the
females. My friend, the chaplain, saw one killed in

the water as it was on that errand in the river St.
138

Lawrence; it was a monstrous beast, he told me;
but he did not take the dimensions.

When I was last in town our friend Mr. Barring—
ton most obligingly carried me to see many curious
sights. As you were then writing to him about
horns, he carried me to see many strange and won-
derful specimens. There is, I remember, at Lord
Pembroke’s, at Wilton, an horn-room furnished with
more than thirty different pairs; but I have not seen
that house lately.

Mr. Barrington showed me many astonishing col-
lections of stuffed and living birds from all quarters
of the world. After I had studied over the latter for
a time,I remarked that every species almost that
came from distant regions, such as South America,
the coast of Guinea, &c., were thick-billed birds of
the [02122; and frz’ngz'lla genera: and no molded/w or
muscz’cape were to be met with. When I came to
consider, the reason was obvious enough; for the
hard-billed birds subsist on seeds which are easily
carried on board, while soft-billed birds, which are
supported by worms and insects, or, what is a succe-
daneum for them, fresh raw meat, can meet with
- neither in long and tedious voyages. It is from this
. defect of food that our collections (curious as they
are) are defective, and we are deprived of some of
the most delicate and lively genera. ‘

SELBORNE, Aug. I, I770.
139

LETTER XXXVII.
To 'l‘HOMAS PENNAN'I‘, ESQ.

YOU saw, I find, the ring-ousels again among their
native crags; and are further assured that they con-

 

[\iflllgr-Ulla't'lf.

tinue resident in those cold regions the whole year.
From whence then do our ring-ousels migrate so reg-
ularly every September, and make their appearance
again, as if in their return, every April? They are
more early this year than common, for some were
seen at the usual hill on the fourth of this month.

An observing Devonshire gentleman tells me that
140

they frequent some parts of Dartmoor, and breed
there; but leave those haunts about the end of Sep-
tember or beginning of October, and return again
about the end of March. ,

Another intelligent person assures me that they
breed in great abundance all over the Peak of Derby,
and are called there tor—ousels; withdraw in Octo-
ber and November, and return in spring. This in-
formation seems to throw some light on my new
migration.

Scopoli’s* new work (which I have just procured)
has its merit in ascertaining many of the birds of
the Tyrol and Carniola. Monographers, come from
whence they may, have, I think, fair pretence to
challenge some regard and approbation from the
lovers of natural history; for, as no man can alone
investigate all the works of nature, these partial
writers may, each in their department, be more
accurate in their discoveries, and freer from errors,
than more general writers; and so by degrees may
pave the way to an universal correct natural his-
tory. Not that Sc0poli is so circumstantial and at-
tentive to the life and conversation of his birds as I
could wish: he advances some false facts; as when
he says of the Hz'runa’o urbz’m that “it does not feed
its young after it leaves the nest:” “pullos extra
nidum non nutrit.” This assertion I know to be

 

* “Annus Primus Historico-Naturalis."
I41

wrong from repeated observation this summer; for
house-martins do feed their young flying, though it
must be acknowledged not so commonly as the
house-swallow; and the feat is done in so quick a
manner as not to be perceptible to indifferent
observers. He also advances some (I was going
to say) improbable facts; as when he says of the
woodcock that, “as it flies from its enemies, it car-
ries its young in its beakz” “pullos rostro portat
fugiens ab hoste.” But candour forbids me to say
absolutely that any fact is false because I have never
been witness to such a fact. I have only to remark,
that the long unwieldy bill of the woodcock is per-
haps the worst adapted of any among the winged
creation for such a feat of natural affection.

SELBORNE, Sept. 14, I770.

LETTER XXXVIII.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

I AM glad to hear that Kuckahn is to furnish you
with the birds of Jamaica; a sight of the Izz'rzmdz'nes
of that hot and distant island would be a great en-
tertainment to me.

The “Anni” of Scopoli are now in my posses-
sion; and I have read the “Annus Primus” with

satisfaction; for though some parts of this work are
I42

exceptionable, and he may advance some mistaken

observations, yet the ornithology ol so distant a

country as Carniola is
very curious. Men
that undertake only
one district are much
more likely to advance
natural knowledge than
those that grasp at
more than they can
possibly be acquainted
with: every kingdom,
every province should
have its own monog-
rapher.

The reason perhaps
why he mentions noth-
ing of Ray’s “ Or-
nithology" is the ex-
treme poverty and dis-
tance of his country,
into which the works

 

A “ malnr/nrmv-f’

of our great naturalist may never yet have found

their way. You have doubts, I know, whether this

“Ornithology" is genuine, and really the work of

Scopoli: as to myself, I think I discover strong

tokens of authenticity; the style corresponds with
that of his “ Entomologia ; " and his characters of the

ordines and genera are many of them new, express-

ive, and masterly. He has ventured to alter some
of the Linnaean genera with sufficient show of reason.

It might perhaps be mere accident that you saw
so many swifts and no swallows at Staines; because,
in my long observation of those birds, I never could
discover the least degree of rivalry or hostility be-
tween the species. ' '

Ray remarks that birds of the Gal/mm order, as
cocks and hens, partridges and pheasants, &c., are
pzz/wmtrz'ws, such as dust themselves, using that
method of cleansing their feathers and ridding them—
selves of their vermin. As far as I can observe,
many birds that dust themselves never wash: and I
once thought that those birds that wash themselves
would never dust; but here I find myself mistaken;
for common house-sparrows are great pulvemz‘rz’ws,
being frequently seen grovelling and wallowing in
dusty roads; and yet they are great washers. Does
not the Skylark dust?

Query—Might not Mahomet and his followers
take one method of purification from these pulve-
mtrz'ccs? because I find, from travellers of credit,
that if a strict Mussulman is journeying in a sandy
desert where no water is to be found, at stated
hours he strips off his clothes, and most scrupulously
rubs his body over with sand or dust.

A countryman told me he had found a young
fern-owl in the nest of a small bird on the ground;

and that it was fed by the little bird. I went to see
I44

this extraordinary phenomenon, and found that it
was a young cuckoo hatched in the nest of a titlark:
it was become vastly too big for its nest, appear-
ing “to have its large wings extended beyond the

nest,”—
u _____ in tenui re

Majores pennas indo extendisse — —”

and was very fierce and pugnacious, pursuing my
finger, as'I teased it, for many feet from the nest, and
sparringiand buffeting with its wings like a game-
cock. The dupe of a dam appeared at a distance,
hovering about with meat in its mouth, and express-
ing the greatest solicitude.

In JulyI saw several cuckoos skimming over a
large pond; and found, after some observation, that
they were feeding on the [lug/law, or dragon-flies;
some of which they caught as they settled on the
weeds, and some as they were on the wing. Not-
withstanding what Linnaeus says, I cannot be in-
duced to believe that they are birds of prey.

This district affords some birds that are hardly
(ever heard of at Selborne. In the first place con-
Siderable flocks of cross-beaks (Loxz'ae curm'rosz‘re)‘
have appeared this summer in the pine-groves be-
longing to this house: the water-ousel is said to
haunt the mouth of the Lewes river, near Newhaven:
:and the Cornish chough builds, I know, all along the
chalky cliffs of the Sussex shore.

I was greatly pleased to see little parties of ring-
I45

ousels (my newly discovered migrators) scattered, at
intervals, all along the Sussex downs from Chichester
to Lewes. Let them come from whence they will,
it looks very suspicious that they are cantoned along
the coast, in order to pass the Channel when severe
weather advances. They visit us again in April, as
it should seem, in their return; and are not to be
found in the dead of winter. It is remarkable that
they are very tame, and seem to have no manner of
apprehensions of danger from a person with a gun.

There are bustards on the wide downs near
Brighthelmstone. No doubt you are acquainted
with the Sussex downs: the prospects and rides
round Lewes are most lovely!

As I rode along near the coast I kept a very
sharp look-out in the lanes and woods, hoping I
might, at this time of the year, have discovered some
of the summer shortwinged birds of passage crowd-
ing towards the coast in order for their departure;
but it was very extraordinary that I never saw a
redstart, whitethroat, blackcap, uncrested wren, fly-
catcher, &c. And I remember to have made the
same remark in former years, as I usually come to
this place annually about this time. The birds most
common along the coast at present are the stone-
chattcrs, whinchats, buntings, linnets. some few
wheatears, titlarks, 81c. Swallows and house-martins
abound yet, induced to prolong their stay by this

soft, still, dry season.
146

A land tortoise, which has been kept for thirty
years in a little walled court belonging to the house
1 where I now am visiting, retires under ground about
the middle of November, and comes forth again
about the middle of April. When it first appears in
the spring it discovers very little inclination towards
food: but in the height of summer grows voracious:
and then as the summer declines its appetite declines
also; so that for the last six weeks in autumn it hard-
ly eats atall. Milky plants, such as ,lettuces, dande-
lions, sowthistles, are its favourite dish. In a neigh-
bouring village one was kept till by tradition it was
supposed to be a hundred years old. An instance of

vast longevity in such a poor reptile.

RINGMER, mar LEWES, Oct. 8, I770.

LETTER XXXIX.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

AFTER an ineffectual search in Linnaeus and Bris-
son, I begin to suspect thatI discern my brother’s
Harm-2dr) layéerna in SCOpOli’s new discovered Hirmm’o
rupesz‘rz's. His description of “ Supra murina, subtus
albida; rectrices macula ovali alba in latere interno ;
pcdes nudi, nigri; rostrum nigrum; remiges obscu-

riores quam plumae dorsales; rectrices remigibus
I47

concolores, cauda emarginata, nec forcipata; ” *
agrees very well with the bird in question; but when
he comes to advance that it is “statu’ra hirundinis
urbicae,” and that “the definition given of the bank-
martin suits this bird also,”—“definitio hirundinis
ripariae Linnaei huic quoque convenit,” he in some
measure invalidates all he has said; at least he shows
at once that he compares them to these species mere-
ly from memory: for I have compared the birds
themselves, and find they differ widely in every cir-
cumstance of shape, size, and colour. However, as
you will have a specimen, I shall be glad to hear
what your judgment is in the matter.

Whether my brother is forestalled in his nonde-
script or not, he will have the credit of first discov-
ering that they spend their winters under the warm
and sheltery shores of Gibraltar and Barbary.

Scopoli’s characters of his ordines and genera are
clear, just, and expressive, and much in the spirit of
Linnaeus. These few remarks are the result of my
first perusal of Scopoli’s “Annus Primus.”

The bane of our science is the comparing one ani-
mal to the other by memory: for want of caution in
this particular Scopoli falls into errors : he is not so
full with regard to the manners of his indigenous

 

* “ Above it is mouse-colour, below whitish, the guiding feathers with
an oval white spot on the inner side, the feet bare and black, the beak
black, the wing feathers darker than the dorsal ones, the guiders of the
same colour as the wings, the tail well defined, not forked."

I48

birds as might be wished, as you justly observe: his
Latin is easy, elegant, and expressive, and very supe-
rior to Kramer’s “ Elenchus Vegetabilium et Anima-
lium per Austriam Inferiorem.”

I am pleased to see that my description of the
moose corresponds so well with yours.

SELBORNE, Oct. 29, 1870.

LETTER XL.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

I WAS much pleased to see, among the collection
'of birds from Gibraltar, some of those short-winged
English summer birds of passage concerning whose
departure we have made so much inquiry. Now, if
these birds are found in Andalusia to migrate to and
from Barbary, it may easily be supposed that those
that come to us may migrate back to the Continent,
and spend their winters in some of the warmer parts
of Europe. This is certain, that many soft-billed
birds that come to Gibraltar appear there only in
spring and autumn, seeming to advance in pairs to-
wards the northward, for the sake of breeding during
the summer months, and retiring in parties and broods
towards the south, at the decline of the year: so that
the rock of Gibraltar is the great rendezvous and

place of observation from whence they take their
I49

' departure each way towards Europe or Africa. It is
therefore no mean discovery, I think, to find that our
small short-winged summer birds of passage are to
be seen spring and autumn on the very skirts of Eu-
rope; it is a presumptive proof of their emigrations.

Scopoli seems to me to have found the Hz'runa’o
mr/éa, the great Gibraltar swift, in Tyrol, without
knowing it. For what is his Hz‘rzma’o a/pz'na but the
afore-mentioned bird in other words? Says he, “It
has all the qualities of the preceding, save that the
breast is white; it is a little larger than the former; ”
“Omnia prioris” (meaning the swift); “sed pectus
album; paulo major priore.” I do not suppose this
to be a new species. It is true also of the mellm, that
“it builds on the lofty Alpine Cliffs;" “ nidificat in
excelsis Alpium rupibus.” I’z'de “Annum Primum.”

My Sussex friend, a man of observation and good
sense, but no naturalist, to whom I applied on ac-
count of the stone-curlew (oedz'mmms), sends me the
following account:—“ In looking over my ‘Natural-
ist's Journal' for the month of April, I find the stone-
curlews are first mentioned on the 17th and 18th,
which dates seem to me rather late. They live with
us all the spring and summer, and at the beginning
of autumn prepare to take leave by getting together
in flocks. They seem to me a bird of passage that
may travel into some dry hilly country south of us,
probably Spain. because of the abundance of sheep-

walks in that country ; for they spend their summers
150

with us in such districts. This conjecture I hazard,
as I have never met with any one that has seen them
in England in the winter. I believe they are not
fond of going near the water, but feed on earth-
worms, that are common on sheep-walks and downs.
They breed on fallows and lay fields abounding with
grey mossy flints, which much resem’ble their young
in colour; among which they skulk and conceal them-
selves. They make no nest, but lay their eggs on the
bare ground, producing in common but two at a
time. There is reason to think their young run soon
after they are hatched; and that the old ones do not
feed them, but only lead them about at the time of
feeding, which for the most part is in the night.”
Thus far my friend.

In the manners of this bird you see there is some-
thing very analogous to the bustard, whom it also
somewhat resembles in aspect and make, and in the
structure of its feet.-

For along time I have desired-my relation to look
out for these birds in Andalusia; and now he writes
me word that, for the first time, he saw one dead
in the market on the 3rd of September.

When the stone-curlew (oedz'memus) flies, it stretch-
- es out its legs straight behind, like a heron.

SELBORNE,/va.26,177o.

I3 151

LETTER XLI.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

THE birds that I took for abera’avmes were reed-
sparrows (Passeres z‘orquali).

. There are doubtless many home internal migra-
tions within this kingdom that want to be better un-
derstood ; witness those vast flocks of hen chafflnches
that appear with us in the winter with hardly any
cocks among them. Now, was there a due propor-
tion of each sex, it would seem very improbable that
any one district should produce such numbers of
these little birds; and much more when only one half
of the species appears; there-fore we may conclude
that the Frz'nng/cz’ car/Me's, for some good purposes,
have a peculiar migration of their own in which the
sexes part. Nor should it seem so wonderful that
the intercourse of sexes in this species of birds should
be interrupted in winter; since in many animals, and
particularly in bucks and does, the sexes herd sepa-
rately, except at the season when commerce is neces-
sary for the continuance of the breed. For this mat-
ter of the chaffinches, see “Fauna Suecica,” p. 85, and
“ Systema Naturae,” p. 318. I see every winter vast
flights of hen chafflnches, but none of cocks.

Your method of accounting for the periodical
motions of the British singing birds, or birds of

flight, is a very probable one; since the matter of
152

food is a great regulator of the actions and proceed-
ings of the brute creation: there is but one that 'can
be set in competition with it, and that is love. But
Icannot quite acquiesce with you in one circum-
stance which you advance—that “when they have
thus feasted, they again separate into small parties of
five or six, and get the best fare they can within a
certain district, having no inducement to go in quest
of fresh-turned earth.” Now if you mean that the
business of congregating is quite at an end from the
conclusion of wheat-sowing to the season of barley
and oats, it is not the case with us; for larks and
chaffinches, and particularly linnets, flock and
congregate as much in the very dead of winter
as when the husbandman is busy

with his ploughs and harrows.

Surely there can be no
doubt but that woodcocks
and fieldfares leave us in
the spring, in order to
cross the seas, and retire

 

to some districts more suit-
able to the purpose of breed-

A fieldfare.

ing. That the former pair,

. and that the hens are forward with egg before they
retire, I myself, when l was a sportsman, have often
experienced. It cannot indeed be denied that now
and then we hear of a woodcock’s nest, or even

young birds, discovered in some part or Other of this
153

island : but then they are always mentioned as rari-
ties, and somewhat out of the common course of
things; but as to redwings and fieldfares, no sports-
man or naturalist has ever yet, that I could hear,
pretended tohave found the nest or young of those
species in any part of these kingdoms. And I the
more admire at this instance as extraordinary, since,
to all appearance, the same food in summer as well
as in winter might support them here which main-
tains their congeners, the blackbirds and thrushes,
did they choose to stay the summer through. Hence
it appears that it is not food alone which determines
some species of birds with regard to their stay or de-
parture. Fieldfares and redwings disappear sooner
or later, according as the warm weather comes on
Earlier or later, for I well remember, after that
dreadful winter, 1739-40, that cold north-east winds
continued to blow on through April and May, and
that these kinds of birds (what few remained of
them) did not depart as usual, but were seen linger-
ing about till the beginning Of June.

The best authority that we can have for the nidi-
fication of the birds above-mentioned in any district,
is the testimony of faunists that have written pro-
fessedly the natural history of particular countries.
Now, as to the fieldfare, Linnaeus, in his “Fauna
Suecica,” says of it, that “it builds in the largest
trees,"———“ maximis in arboribus nidificat; ” and of the

redwing he says, in the same place, that “it builds in
I54

the middle of shrubs or hedges, and lays six bluish-
green eggs with black spots,”—“nidificat in mediis
arbusculis, sive sepibus: ova sex caeruleoviridiama-
culis nigris variis.” Hence we may be assured that
fieldfares and redwings breed in Sweden. Scopoli
says, in his “Annus Primus,” of the woodcock, that
“it comes to us about the vernal equinox, and, after
pairing, it builds its nest in marshy places, and lays
its eggs,”—“nupta ad nos venit circa aequinoctium
vernale; ” meaning in Tyrol, of which he is a native.
And afterwards he adds,——“nidificat in paludibus
alpinis: ova ponit 3—5.” It does not appear from
Kramer that woodcocks breed at all in Austria; but
he says 2—“ This bird dwells in the northern regions
in summer, where, too, it generally builds its nest.
As winter comes on it goes farther south, leaving
this about the October full-moon. After pairing, it
usually comes back to the north about the full March
moon,”—“Avis haec septentrionalium provinciarum
aestivo tempore incola est; ubi plerumque nidificat.
Appropinquante hyeme australiores provincias petit:
hinc circa plenilunium mensis Octobris plerumque
Austriam transmigrat. Tunc rursus circa pleniluni-
um potissimum mensis Martii per Austriam matri-
monio juncta ad septentrionales provincias redit.”
For the whole passage (which I have abridged) see
“Elenchus,” &c., p. 351. This seems to be a full
prOof of the migration of woodcocks; though little
is proved concerning the place of breeding.

I55

There fell in the county of Rutland, in three
weeks of this present very wet weather, seven
inches and a-half of rain, which is more than has
fallen in any three weeks for these thirty years past
in that part of the world. A mean quantity in that
county for one year is twenty inches and a-half.

SELBORNE, Dec. 20, I770.

LETTER XLII.

To 'l‘HF. HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

YOU are, I know, no great friend to migration;
and the well-attested accounts from various parts of
the kingdom seem to justify you in your suspicions,
that at least many of the swallow kind do not leave
us in the winter, but lay themselves up like insects
and bats, in a torpid state, and slumber away the
more uncomfortable months till the return of the sun
and fine weather awakens them.

But then we must not, I think, deny migration in
general; because migration certainly does subsist in
some places, as my brother in Andalusia has fully
informed me. Of the motions of these birds he has
ocular demonstration, for many weeks together, both
spring and fall: during which periods myriads of the
swallow kind traverse the Straits from north to

south, and from south to north, according to the sea-
156

son; and these vast migrations consist not only of
lzz'mna’z'ms, but of bee-birds, hoopoes, 070 pendolos, or
golden thrushes, &c. &c., and also of many of our
soft-billed summer birds of passage; and moreover
of birds which never leave us, such as all the various .
sorts of hawks and kites. Old Belon, two hundred
years ago, gives a curious account of the incredible
armies of hawks and kites which he saw in the
spring-time traversing the Thracian Bosporus from
Asia to Europe. Besides the above-mentioned, he
remarks that the procession is swelled by whole
troops of eagles and vultures.

Now it is no wonder that birds residing in Africa,
and especially birds of prey whose blood being
heated with hot animal food are more impatient of a
sultry climate, should retreat before the sun as it ad-
vances, and retire to milder regions; but then I can-
not help wondering why kites and hawks, and such
hardy birds as are known to defy all the severity of
England, and even of Sweden and all north Europe,
should want to migrate from the south of Europe,
and be dissatisfied with the winters of Andalusia.

It does not appear to me that much stress can be
laid on the difficulty and hazard that birds must run
in their migrations, by reason of vast oceans, cross
winds, 810.; because, if we reflect, a bird, by crossing
the water at Dover, and again at Gibraltar, may
travel from England to the equator without launch-

ing out and exposing itself to boundless seas. And
IS7

I advance this obvious remark with the more confi-
dence, because my brother has always found that
some of his birds, and particularly the swallow kind,
are very sparing of their pains in crossing the Medi.
terranean; when arrived at Gibraltar, they do not

6‘

— — — Ranged in figure wedge their way,
————— and set forth

Their airy caravan high over seas

‘ Flying, and over lands with mutual wing
Easing their flight ;” — — — — MILTON—

but scout and hurry along in little detached parties
of six or seven in a company; and, sweeping low,
just over the surface of the land and water, direct '
their course to the Opposite continent at the narrow-
est passage they can find. They usually slope across
the bay to'the south-west, and so pass over opposite
to Tangier, which, it seems, is the narrowest space.
In former letters we have considered whether it
was probable that woodcocks in moonshiny nights
cross the German ocean from Scandinavia. As a
proof that birds of less speed may pass that sea, con-
siderable as it is, I shall relate the following incident,_
which, though mentioned to have happened so many
years ago, was strictly matter of fact :—As some peo-
ple were shooting in the parish of Trotton, in the
county of Sussex, they killed a duck in that dreadful
winter of 1708—9, with a silver collar about its neck,*

* White adds in a note, “I have read a like anecdote of a swan.”
158

on which were engraven the arms of the King of
Denmark. This anecdote the rector of Trotton at
that time has often told to a near relation of mine;
and, to the best of my remembrance, the collar was
in the possession of the rector.

At present I do not know anybody near the sea-
side that will take the trouble to remark at what
time of the moon woodcocks first come: if I lived
near the sea myself I would soon tell you more of
the matter. One thing I used to observe when I was
a sportsman, that there were times in which wood-
cocks were so «sluggish and sleepy, that they would
drop again when flushed, just before the spaniels;
nay, just at the muzzle of a gun that had been fired
at them. Whether this strange laziness was the
effect of a recent fatiguing journey I shall not pre-
sume to say.

Nightingales not only never reach Northumber-
land and Scotland, but also, as I have been always
told, Devonshire and Cornwall. In those two last
‘ counties we cannot attribute the failure of them to
the want of warmth: the defect in the west is rather
a presumptive argument that these birds come over
to us from the Continent at the narrowest passage,
and do not stroll so far westward.

Let me hear from your own observation whether
skylarks do not dust. Ithink they do: and if they
do, whether they wash also.

The Alaua’a pmtensz's of Ray was the poor dupe
159

that was educating the booby of a cuckoo mentioned
in Letter XXXVIII. in October last. .

Your letter came too late for me to procure a
ring-ousel for Mr. Tunstal during their autumnal
visit; but I will endeavour to get him one when they
call on us again in April. lam glad that you and
that gentleman saw my Andalusian birds; I hope
they answered your expectation. Royston, or grey
crows, are winter birds that come much about the
same time with the woodcock: they, like the fieldfare
and redwing, have no apparent reason for migration;
for as they fare in the winter like their congeners, so
might they in all appearance in the summer. Was
not Tenant, when a boy, mistaken? Did he not find
a missel-thrush’s nest, and take it for the nest of a
fieldfare?

The stock-dove or woodpigeon, [£7245 Raz'z', is the
last winter bird of passage which appears with us;
and is not seen till towards the end of November;
about twenty years ago they abounded in the district
of Selborne; and strings of the-m were seen, morning
and evening, that reached a mile or more; but since
the beechen woods have been greatly thinned they
are much decreased in number. The ring-dove, Pa-
[umbus Raz'z', stays with us the whole year, and breeds
several times through the summer.

Before I received your letter of October last I had
just remarked in my journal that the trees were un-

usually green. This uncommon verdure lasted on
160

late into November; and may be accounted for from
a late spring, a cool and moist summer; but more
particularly from vast armies of chafers, or tree-
beetles, which, in many places, reduced whole woods
to a leafless naked state. These trees shot again at
Midsummer, and then retained their foliage till very
late in the year.

My musical friend, at whose house I am now vis-
iting, has tried all the owls that are his near neigh-
bours with a pitch-pipe set at concert-pitch, and finds
they all hoot in B flat. He will examine the nightin-
gales next spring.

FYFIELD, near ANDOVER, Feé. 12, 1771.

LETTER XLIII.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

THERE is an insect with us, especially on chalky
districts, which is very troublesome and teasing all
the latter end of the summer, getting into people’s
skins, especially those of women and children, and
raising tumours which itch intolerably. This animal
(which we call a harvest bug) is very minute, scarce
discernible to the naked eye; of a bright scarlet col—
our, and of the genus of acams.* They are to be met

 

* Leptus autzmmalz's of Latreille.
161

with in gardens on kidneybeans, or any legumens,
but prevail only in the hot months of summer. \Var-

 

Enlnmrr In an n/z/ S'r/finrnt lane.

reners, as some have assured me, are much infested
by them on chalky—downs. where these insects some-
times swarm to so infinite a degree as to discolour
their nets. and to give them a reddish cast. while the
men are so bitten as to be thrown into fevers.

There is a small long shining fly in these parts
162

very troublesome to the housewife, by getting into
the chimneys, and laying its eggs in the bacon while
it is drying: these eggs produce maggots called
jumpers, which, harbouring in the gammons and best
parts of the hogs, eat down to the bone, and make
great waste. This fly I suspect to be a variety of the
Musca putrz’s of Linnaeus: it is to be seen in the sum—
mer in farm—kitchens, on the bacon-racks and'about
the mantelpieces, and on the ceilings.

The insect that infests turnips and many crops in
the garden (destroying often whole fields' while in
their seedling leaves) is an animal that wants to be
better known. The country people here call it the
turnip-fly and black dolphin; but I know it to be one
Of the coleopz‘e’ra; the “ C/zrysome/a oleracm saltato-

‘

ria, femoribus posticis crassissimis’—-“ the vaulting
c/zrysomela, with the back part of the thighs very
thick.” In very hot summers they abound to an
amazing degree, and, as you walk in a field or in a
garden, make a pattering like rain, by jumping on
the leaves of the turnips or cabbages.

There is an oesz‘ms, known in these parts to every
ploughboy, which, because it is omitted by Linnaeus,*
is also passed over by late writers, and that is the
curm'caua’a of old Moufet, mentioned by Derham in

his “ Physico-Theology,” p. 250: an insect worthy of

 

* This is a mistake on White’s part: the Horse Bot-fly, Gasterop/zilus
equi, Leach, is described by Linnaeus under the name of (Estrus (law's.
163

remark for depositing its eggs as it flies in so dexter-
ous a manner on the single hairs of the legs and flanks
of grass-horses. But then Derham is mistaken when
he advances that this ocsz‘rus is the parent of that won-
derful star-tailed maggot which he mentions after-
wards; for more modern entomologists have discov-
ered that singular production to be derived from the
egg of the Musca c/zmzzw/emz.*

A full history of noxious insects hurtful in the
field, garden, and house, suggesting all the known
and likely means of destroying them, would be al-
lowed by the public to be a most useful and impor-
tant work. What knowledge there is of this sort lies
scattered, and wants to be collected; great improve-
ments would soon follow of course. A knowledge
of the properties, economy, propagation, and, in
short, of the life and conversation of these animals,
is a necessary step to lead us to some method of pre-
venting their depredations.

As far as I am a judge, nothing would recommend
entomology more than some neat plates that should
well express the generic distinctions of insects ac-
cording to Linnaeus; for I am well assured that
many people would study insects, could they set out
with a more adequate notion of those distinctions
than can be conveyed at first by words alone.

SELBORNE, Marc/z 30, 1771.

 

* Stratiomys c/umnr/c’wz, De Geer.
104

LETTER XLIV

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

HAPPENING to make a visit to my neighbour’s
peacocks, I could not help observing that the trains
of those magnificent birds appear by no means to be
their tails; those long feathers growing not from
their uropygz’um, but all up their backs. A range of
short, brown, stiff feathers, about six inches long, fixed
in the uropygz'um, is the real tail, and serves as the ful-
crum to prop the train, which is long and top-heavy
when set on end. When the train is up, nothing ap-
pears of the bird before but its head and neck; but
this would not be the case were those long feathers
fixed only in the rump, as may be seen by the turkey-
cock when in a strutting attitude. By a strong mus-
cular vibration these birds can make the shafts of
their long feathers clatter like the swords of a sword-
dancer: they then trample very quick with their feet
_ and run backwards towards the females.

I should tell you that I have got an uncommon
Calculus aegogropz'la, taken out of the stomach of a fat
ox ; it is perfectly round, and about the size of a large
Seville orange; such are, I think, usually flat.

SELBORNE, I77I.

165

LETTER XLV.

To 'I‘HE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

FROM what follows, it will appear that neither
owls nor cuckoos keep to one note. My musical
friend remarks that many (most) of his owls hoot in
B flat; but that one went almost half a note below A.
The pipe he tried their notes by was a common half-
crown pitch-pipe, such as masters use for the tuning
of harpsichords; it was the common London pitch.

A neighbour of mine, who is said to have a nice
ear, remarks that the owls about this village hoot in
three different keys—in G flat, or F sharp, in B flat
and A flat. He heard two booting to each other, the
one in A flat, and the other in B flat. Do these dif-
ferent notes proceed from different species, or only
from various individuals? The same person finds
upon trial that the note of the cuckoo (of which we
have but one species) varies in different individuals;
for, about Selborne wood, he found they were mostly
in D: he heard two sing together, the one in D, the
other in D sharp, which made a disagreeable concert;
he afterwards heard one in D sharp, and about Wol-
mer Forest some in C.* As to nightingales, he says
that their notes are so short and their transitions so

 

* The editor of the edition of 1822 remarks that the cuckoo begins
early in the season with a tray or third. next to a fourth, then a fifth,
after which his voice breaks without attaining a sixth ; a very old obser-

166

rapid, that he cannot well ascertain their key. Per—
haps in a cage, and in a room, their notes may be
more distinguishable. This person has tried to settle
the notes of a swift, and of several other

 
  
    

small birds, but cannot bring them to
any criterion.

As I have often remarked
that redwings are some of the
first birds that suffer with us in
'severe weather, it is no won-
der at all that they retreat
from Scandinavian winters: and
much more the ordo of gm/[ae
which, all to a bird, forsake the
northern parts of Europe at the A redwing-
approach of winter. “ Grallae tan-
quam conjuratae unanimiter in fugam se conjiciunt;
ne earum unicam quidem inter nos habitantem inve-
nire possimus; ut enim aestate in australibus degere
nequeunt ob defectum lumbricorum, terramque sic-
cam; ita nec in frigidis ob eandem causam,” says
Ekmarck the Swede, in his ingenious little treatise

 

‘vation, however, seeing it is the subject of an epigram in the scarce black
letter, “ Epigrams of John Heywood," dated 1587 :—

“ Use maketh maistry, this hath been said alway;
But all is not alway as all men do say.
In April, the koocoo can sing her song by rote,
In June of tune she cannot sing a note:
At first koocoo, koocoo, sing still can she do ;
At last kooke, kooke, kooke, six kookes to one coo.”
I4 167

called “ Migrationes Avium,” which by all means you
ought to read while your thoughts run on the subject
of migration.—“ The gralla), as though they had con-
spired, take themselves to flight in an unmannerly
fashion; nor can we find even one dwelling amongst
us; for as they cannot live in the south during sum-
mer because of the dryness of the ground, so neither
can they live in the cold countries of the north in
winter for the contrary reason.”

Birds may be so circumstanced as to be obliged
to migrate in one country and not in another: but
the (gm/[w (which procure their food from marshes
and boggy grounds) must in winter forsake the more
northerly parts of Europe, or perish for want of food.

I am glad you are making inquiries from Linnaeus
concerning the woodcock: it is expected of him that
he should be able to account for the motions and
manner of life of the animals of his own “Fauna.”

Faunists, as you observe, are too apt to acquiesce ‘.
in bare descriptions and a few synonyms: the reason
is plain; because all that may be done at home in a
man’s study, but the investigation of. the life and
conversation of animals is a concern of much more
trouble and difficulty, and is not to be attained but
by the active and inquisitive, and by those that reside
much in the country.

Foreign systematics are, I observe, much too
vague in their specific differences; which are almost

universally constituted by one or two particular
168

marks, the rest of the description running in general
terms. But our countryman, the excellent Mr. Ray,
is the only describer that conveys some precise idea
in every term or word, maintaining his superiority
over his followers and imitators in spite of the ad-
vantage of fresh discoveries and modern information.

At this distance of years it is not in my power to
recollect at what periods woodcocks used to be slug-
gish or alert when I was a sportsman: but upon my
mentioning this circumstance to a friend, he thinks
he has observed them to be remarkably listless
against snowy foul weather: if this should be the
case, then the inaptitude for flying arises only from
an eagerness for food; as sheep are observed to be
very intent on grazing against stormy wet evenings.

SELBORNE,z4ug.I,I77L

LETTER XLVI.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

THE summer through I have seen but two of that
large species of bat which I call Vespen‘z'lz'o altz'zlolmzs,
from its manner of feeding high in the air: I pro-
cured one of them, and found it to be a male; and
made no doubt, as they accompanied together, that
the other was a female; but happening in an evening

or two to procure the other likewise, I was somewhat
169

disappointed when it appeared to be also of the same
sex. This circumstance and the great scarcity of this
sort, at least in these parts, occasions some suspicions
in my mind whether it is really a species, or whether
it may not be the male part of the more known spe-
cies, one of which may supply many females; as is
known to be the case in sheep, and some other quad-
rupeds. But this doubt can only be cleared by a
farther examination, and some attention to the sex,
of more specimens: all that I know at present is, that
my two were amply furnished With the parts of gen-
eration much resembling those of a boar.

In the extent of their wings they measured four-
teen inches and a half: and four inches and a half
from the nose to the tip of the tail: their heads were
large, their nostrils bilobated, their shoulders broad
and muscular, and their whole bodies fleshy and
plump. Nothing could be more sleek and soft than
their fur, which was of a bright chestnut colour;
their maws were full of food, but so macerated that
the quality could not be distinguished; their livers,
kidneys, and hearts were large, and their bowels cov-
ered with fat. They weighed each, when entire, full
one ounce and one drachm. Within the ear there
was somewhat of a peculiar structure that I did not
understand perfectly : but refer it to the observation
of the curious anatomist. These creatures sent forth
a very rancid and offensive smell. '

Sept. 1771.
I70

LETTER XLVII.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

ON the 12th of July I had a fair opportunity of

contemplating the motions of the caprz'mu/gus, or
‘ fern-ow1, as it was playing round a large oak that
swarmed with Scamém’ so/siz'lz'ales, or fern-chafers.
The powers of its wing were wonderful, exceeding,
if possible, the various evolutions and quick turns
of the swallow genus. But the circumstance that
pleased me most was, that I saw it distinctly, more
. than once, put out its short leg while on the wing,
and, by a bend of the head. deliver somewhat into its
mouth. If it takes any part of its prey with its foot,
as I have now the greatest reason to suppose it does
these chafers, I no longer wonder at the use of its
middle toe, which is curiously furnished with a ser-
rated claw.

Swallows and martins, the bulk of them I mean,
have forsaken us sooner this year than usual: for, on
the 22nd of September, they rendezvoused in a neigh-
bour’s walnut-tree, where it seemed probable they
had taken up their lodgings for the night. At the
« dawn of the day, which was foggy, they arose all to-
gether in infinite numbers, occasioning such a rush-
ing from the strokes of their wings against the hazy,
air, as might be heard to a considerable distanCe:

since that no flock has appeared, only a few stragglers.
171

Some swifts staid late, till the 22nd of August—a
rare instance! for they usually withdraw within the
first week.*

On the 24th of September three or four ring-
ousels appeared in my fields for the first time this
season! how punctual are these visitors in their
autumnal and spring migrations!

SELBORNE, I 771.

LETTER XLVIII.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

'WHEN I ride about in the winter, and see such
prodigious flocks of various kinds of birds, I cannot
help admiring these congregations, and wishing that
it was in my power to account for those appearances
almost peculiar to the season. The two great mo-
tives which regulate the proceedings of the brute
creation are love and hunger; the former incites
animals to perpetuate their kind, the latter induces
them to preserve individuals; whether either of
these should seem to be the ruling passion in the
matter of congregating is to be considered. As to
love, that is. out of the question at a time of the year
when that soft passion is not indulged ; besides, dur-
ing the amorous season, such a jealousy prevails be-

 

* See Letter XCVI. to Mr. Barrington.
I72

tween the male birds that they can hardly bear
to be together in the same hedge or field.
Most of the singing and
elation of spirits of that
time seem to me to
be the effect of ri-
valry and emulation;
and it is to this spir-
it of jealousy that
I chiefly attribute the
equal dispersion of
birds in the spring over
the face of the country.
Now as to the busi-
ness of food : as these ani-

 

mals are actuated by instinct to
hunt for necessary food, they

should not, one would suppose,

crowd together in pursuit of A rook.
sustenance at a time when it is

most likely to fail; yet such associations do take
place in hard weather chiefly, and thicken as the
severity increases. As some kind of self-interest
and self—defence is no doubt the motive for the
proceeding, may it not arise from the helplessness
of their state in such rigorous seasons? just as
men crowd together when under great calam-
ities, though they know not why. Perhaps ap-

proximation may dispel some degree of cold; and
I73

a crowd may make each individual appear safer
from the ravages of birds of prey and other dan-
gers.

If I admire when I see how much congenerous
birds love to congregate, I am the more struck when
I see incongenerous ones in such strict amity. If we
do not much wonder to see a flock of rooks usually
attended by a train of daws, yet it is strange that the

former should so frequently

have a flight of starlings for

their satellites. Is it because

rooks have a more discern-
ing scent than their attend-
ants, and can lead them to
spots more productive of
food? Anatomists say
that rooks, by reason of
two large nerves which
run down between the.
eyes into the upper
mandible, have a more
delicate feeling in their
beaks than other round-

 

billed birds, and can grope
for their meat when out of
sight. Perhaps then their as-
A star/ing. _ sociates attend them on the mo-
tive of interest, as greyhounds

wait on the motions of their finders; and as lions
I74

are said to do on the yelpings of jackals. Lapwings
and starlings sometimes associate.

SELBORNE, Fe&. 8, I772.

LETTER XLIX.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

As a gentleman and myself were walking on the
4th of last November round the sea-banks, at New-
haven, near the mouth of the Lewes river, in pursuit
of natural knowledge, we were surprised to see three
house-swallows gliding very swiftly by us. That
morning was rather chilly, with ,the wind at north-
west; but the tenor of the weather for some time
before had been delicate, and the noons remarkably
warm. From this incident, and from repeated ac-
counts which I meet with, I am more and more in—
duced to believe that many of the swallow kind do
not depart from this island; but lay themselves up
in holes and caverns; and do, insect-like and bat-
like,* come forth at mild times, and then retire again

 

* Concerning swallows, the reader will .see that Mr. White appears
to incline more and more in favour of their torpidity, and against their
migration. Mr. D. Barrington is still more positive on the same side of
the question; yet‘the ancients generally mention this bird as wintering
in Africa. See Anacreon A7. ed. Brunck. p. 38. The Rhodians had a
festival called xeMfidma, when the boys brought about young swallows ;

I75

to their [atebra Nor make I the least. doubt but
that, if I lived at Newhaven, Seaford, Brighthelm-
stone, or any of those towns near the chalk-cliffs of
the Sussex coast, I should by proper observations,
see swallows stirring at periods of the winter when
the noons were soft and inviting and the sun warm
and invigorating. And I am the more of this opin-

 

the song which they sang may be seen in the works of Meursius, v. 3, p.
974, fol.

”HAOG, ”HAOG, xeAtfidw IcaNizs,

".Qpas Ii'yova'a, Kal KaAoiIs ’Emawobs

y I a
Em 7aa’1'epa Aevm‘z, K‘ é’m uw'ra pe’Aau/a.

“ He comes! He comes! who loves to bear
Soft sunny hours and seasons fair ;—
The swallow hither comes to rest
His sable wing and snowy breast."

And alluding to this custom, Avienus (who may be considered only as a
very bad translator of an excellent poem, the “ Periegesis " of Dionysius)
thus says, v. 705,—

“ Nam cum vere novo, tellus se dura relaxat,
Culminibusque cavis, blandum strepit ales hirundo
Gens devota choros agitat !”

“ \Vhen in early spring the iron soil relaxes, comes the swallow chirp-
ing pleasantly from the hollow eaves, and the pious people begin to
dance.”

From a passage in the “ Birds” of Aristophanes, we learn that among
the Greeks the rmm’ pointed out the time of sowing; the arrival of the
kite, the time of slurp-shearing; and the swallow, the time to put on
szmz/mrr-r/nl/mv. According to the Greek calendar of Flora, kept by
TheOphrastus at Athens, the Ornithian winds blow, and the swallow
comes between the 28th of February and the 12th of March; the kite
and nightingale appear between the 11th and 26th of March; the cuckoo
appears at the same time the young figs come out, thence his name.—
S'l‘ll.l.IN(}I<‘l.EE’I"S Tracts on Natural [list/my.

I76

ion from what I have remarked during some of our
late springs, that though some swallows did make
their appearance about the usual time, namely, the
13th or 14th of April, yet. meeting with a harsh re-
ception, and blustering cold north-east winds, they
immediately withdrew, absconding for several days,
till the weather gave them better encouragement.

Marc]; 9, I772.

LETTER L.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

BY my journal for last autumn it appears that the
house-martins bred very late, and staid very late in
these parts; for on the Ist of October I saw young
martins in their nest nearly fledged; and, again, on
the 21st of October, we had at the next house a nest
full of young martins just ready to fly; and the old
ones were hawking for insects with great alertness.
The next morning the brood forsook their nest, and
were flying round the village. From this day I never
saw one of the swallow kind till the 3rd of Novem-
her; when twenty, or perhaps thirty, house-martins
were playing all day long by the side of the hanging
wood, and over my fields. Did these small weak
birds, some of which were nestlings twelve days ago,
shift their quarters at this late season of theyear to

the other side of the northern tropic? Or rather, is
I77

it not more probable that the next church, ruin,
chalk—cliff, steep covert, or perhaps sand-bank, lake,
or pool, may become their hybernaculum, and afford
them a ready and obvious retreat?

We now begin to expect our vernal migration of
ring-ousels every week. Persons worthy of credit
assure me that ring-ousels were seen at Christmas
1770 in the forest of Bere, on the southern verge of
this county. Hence we may conclude that their mi-
grations are only internal, and not extended to the
continent southward, if they do at first come at all
from the northern parts of this island only, and not
from the north of Europe. Come from whence they
will, it is plain, from the fearless disregard that they
show for men or guns, that they have been little
accustomed to places of much resort. Navigators
mention that in the Isle of Ascension, and other
such desolate districts, birds are so little acquainted
with the human form that they settle on men’s shoul-’
ders; and have no more dread of a sailor thanthey
would have of a goat that was grazing. A young
man at Lewes, in Sussex, assured me that about seven
years ago ring-ousels abounded so about that town
in the autumn that he killed sixteen himself in one
afternoon: he added further, that some had appeared
since in every autumn; but he could not find that
any had been observed before the season in which
he shot. so many. I myself have found these birds

in little parties in the autumn cantoned all along
178

the Sussex downs, wherever there were shrubs and
bushes, from Chichester to Lewes; particularly in
the autumn of 1770.

SELBORNE, Marc/z 15, I773.

LETTER LL

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

WHILE I was in Sussex last autumn my residence
was at the village near Lewes, from whence I had
formerly the pleasure of writing to you. On the Ist
of NovemberI remarked that the old tortoise, for-
merly mentioned, began first to dig the ground, in
order to the forming its hybernaculum, which it had
fixed on just beside a great tuft of hepaticas. It
scrapes out the ground with its fore-feet, and throws
it up over its back with its hind; but the motion of
its legs is ridiculously slow, little exceeding the hour-
hand of a clock; and suitable to the composure of an
animal said to be a whole month in performing one
feat of copulation. Nothing can be more assiduous
than this creature night and day in SCOOping the
earth, and forcing its great body into the cavity; but
as the noons of that season proved unusually warm
and sunny, it was continually interrupted, and called
forth by the heat in the middle of the day: and

though I continued there till the 13th of November,
I79 -

yet the work remained unfinished. Harsher weather,
and frosty mornings, would have quickened its opera-
tions. No part of its behaviour ever struck me more
than the extreme timidity it always expresses with
regard to rain; for though it has a shell that would
secure it against the wheel of a loaded cart, yet does
it; discover as much solicitude about rain as a lady
dressed in all her best attire, shuffling away on the
first sprinklings, and running its head up in a corner.
If attended to it becomes an excellent weather-glass;
for as sure as it walks elate, and as it were on tiptoe,
feeding with great earnestness in a morning, so sure
will it rain before night. It is totally a diurnal ani-
mal, and never pretends to stir after it becomes dark.
The tortoise, like other reptiles, has an arbitrary
stomach as well as lungs; and can refrain from eat-
ing as well as breathing for a great part of the year.
When first awakened it eats nothing; nor again in
the autumn before it retires: through the height of
the summer it feeds voraciously, devouring all the
food that comes in its way. I was much taken with
its sagacity in discerning those that do it kind offices;
for as soon as the good old lady comes in sight who
has waited on it for more than thirty years, it hobbles
towards its benefactress with awkward alacrity; but
remains inattentive to strangers. Thus not only “the
ox knoweth its owner, and the ass his master’s crib,” *

 

* Isaiah i. 3.
180

but the most abject reptile and torpid of beings dis-
tinguishes the hand that feeds it, and is touched with
the feelings of gratitude!

P. S.—In about three days after I left Sussex the
tortoise retired into the ground under the hepatica.

April 12, I 772.

LETTER LII.

To 'THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

THE more I reflect on the a'ropvyfi of animals, the
more I am astonished at its effects. Nor is the vio-
lence of this affection more wonderful than the short-
ness of its duration. Thus every hen is in her turn
the Virago of the yard, in proportion to the helpless-
ness of her brood; and will fly in the face of a dog
or a sow in defence of those chickens, which in a
few weeks she will drive before her with relentless
cruelty.

This affection sublimes the passions, quickens the
invention, and sharpens the sagacity of the brute
creation. Thus a hen, just become a mother, is no
longer that placid bird she used to be, but with feath-
ers standing on end, wings hovering, and clucking
note, she runs about like one possessed. Dams will
throw themselves in the way of the greatest danger
in order to avert it from their progeny. Thus a par-

tridge will tumble along before a sportsman in order
18:

to draw away the dogs from her helpless covey. In
the time of nidificatiOn the most feeble birds will
assault the most rapacious. All‘ the fiz’runa’z'nes of a
village are up in arms at the sight of a hawk, whom
they will persecute till he leaves that district. A
very exact observer has often remarked that a pair
of ravens nesting in the rock of Gibraltar would suf-
fer no vulture or eagle to rest near their station, but
would drive them from the hill with an amazing
fury: even the blue thrush at the season of breeding
would dart out from the cliffs of the rocks to chase
away the kestrel or the sparrow-hawk. If you stand
near the nest of a bird that has young, she will not
be induced to betray them by an inadvertent fond-
ness, but will wait about at a distance with meat in
her mouth for an hour together. .

Should I further corroborate what I have ad-
vanced above by some anecdotes which I probably
may have mentioned before in conversation, yet you
will, I trust, pardon the repetition for the sake of the
illustration.

'The flycatcher of the Zoology (the Sioparola of
Ray) builds every year in the vines that grow on the
walls of my house. i

A pair of these little birds had one year inadver-
tently placed their nest on a naked bough, perhaps in
a shady time, not being aware of the inconvenience
that followed. But a hot sunny season coming on

before the brood was half-fledged, the reflection of
I82

IS

 

\~:.:.:\~.~:\ .~\\.::\\x.f. 2 =\

 

the wall became insupportable, and must inevitably
have destroyed the tender young, had not affection
suggested an expedient, and prompted the parent
birds to hover over the nest all the hotter hours,
while with wings expanded, and mouths gaping for
breath, they screened off the heat from their suffer-
ing offspring.

A farther instance I once saw of notable sagacity
in a willow-wren, which had built in a bank in my
fields. This bird, a friend and myself had observed
as she sat in her nest; but were particularly careful
not to disturb her, though we saw she eyed us with
some degree of jealousy. Some days after, as we
passed that way, we were desirous of remarking how
this brood went on; but no nest could be found, till
I happened to take up a large bundle of long green
moss, as it were carelessly thrown over the nest, in
order to dodge the eye of any impertinent intruder.

A still more remarkable mixture of sagacity and
instinct occurred to me one day as my people were
pulling off the lining of a hotbed in order to add
some fresh dung. From out of the side of this bed
leaped an animal with great agility that made a most
grotesque figure; nor was it without great difficulty
that it Could be taken; when it proved to be allarge
white-bellied field-mouse with three or four young
clinging to her teats by their mouths and feet. It
was amazing that the 'desultory and rapid motions of

thiS'dam should not oblige her litter to quit their
183

hold, especially when it appeared that they were so
young as to be both naked and blind!

To these instances of tender attachment, many
more of which might be daily discovered by those
that are studious of nature, may be opposed that
rage of affection, that monstrous perversion of the
aropryrf,"which induces some females of the brute cre-
ation to devour their young because their owners
have handled them too freely, or removed them from
place to place! Swine, and sometimes the more
gentle race of dogs and cats, are guilty of this horrid
and preposterous murder. When I hear now and
then of an abandoned mother that destroys her off—
spring, I am not so much amazed; since reason per-
verted, and the bad passions let loose, are capable of
any enormity: but why the parental feelings of
brutes, that usually flow in one most uniform tenor,
should sometimes be so extravagantly diverted, I
leave to abler philosophers than myself to determine.

SELBORNE, March 26. I773.

LETTER LIII.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

SOME young men went down lately to a pond
on the verge of VVolmer Forest to hunt flappers, or

young wild-ducks, many of which they caught, and,
184

among the rest, some very minute yet well-fledged
wild-fowls alive, which upon examination I found to
be teals. Idid not know till then that teals ever
bred in the south of England, and was much pleased
with the discovery: this I look upon as a great
stroke in natural history.

We have had, ever since I can remember, a pair
of white owls that constantly breed under the eaves
of this church. As I have paid good attention to
the manner of life of these birds during their season
of breeding, which lasts the summer through, the
following remarks may not perhaps be unaccepta-
ble :—About an hour before sunset (for then the mice
begin to run) they sally forth in quest of prey, and
hunt all round the hedges of meadows and small in-
closures for them, which seem to be their only food.
In this irregular country we can stand on an emi-
nence and see them beat the fields over like a setting-
dog, often drOpping down in the grass or corn. I
have minuted these birds with my watch for an hour
together, and have found that they return to their
nest, the one or the other of them, about once in five
minutes; reflecting at the same time on the adroit-
ness that every animal is possessed of as far as re-
gards the well-being of itself and offspring. But a
piece of address which they show when they return
loaded should not, I think, be passed over in silence.
‘ As they take their prey with their claws, so they

carry it in their claws to their nest: but as the feet
185

are necessary in their ascent under the tiles, they
constantly perch first on the roof of the chancel, and
shift the mouse from their claws to their bill, that
the feet may be at liberty to take hold of the plate
on the wall as they are rising under the eaves.
White owls seem not (but in this I am not posi-
tive) to hoot at all: all that clamorous hooting ap-
pears to me to come from the wood kinds. The
white owl does indeed snore and hiss in a tremen—
dous manner; and these menaces will answer the
intention of intimidating: for I have known a whole
village up in arms on such an occasion, imagining
the church—yard to be full of goblins and spectres.
White owls also often scream horribly as they fly
along; from this screaming probably arose the com-
mon people’s imaginary species of screech-owl,
which they superstitiously think attends the win-
dows of dying persons. The plumage of the remiges
of the wings .of every species of owl that I have
yet examined is remarkably soft and pliant. Per-
haps it may be necessary that the wings of these
birds should not make much resistance or rush-
ing, that they may be enabled to steal through the
air unheard upon a nimble and watchful quarry.
While I am talking of owls, it may not be im-
proper to mention what I was told by a gentleman
of the county of \Vilts. As they were grubbing a
vast hollow pollard-ash that had been the mansion of

owls for centuries, he discovered at the bottom, a
186

mass of matter that at first he could not account for.
After some examination, he found that it was the
congeries of the bones of mice, and perhaps of birds
and bats, that had been heaping together for ages,
being cast up in pellets out of the crops of many
generations of inhabitants. For owls cast up the
bones, fur, and feathers of what they devour, after
the manner of hawks. He‘ believes, he told me, that
there were bushels of this kind of substance.

When brown oWls hoot their throats swell as big
as a hen’s egg. I have known an owl of this species
live a full year without any water. Perhaps the case
may be the same with all birds of prey. When owls
fly they stretch out their legs behind them as a bal-
ance to their large heavy heads: for, as most noc-
turnal birds have large eyes and ears they must have
large heads to contain th‘em. Large eyes I presume
are necessary to collect every ray of light, and large
concave ears to command the smallest degree of
sound or noise.*

The Izz'rzmdz'nes are a most inoffensive, harmless,
. entertaining, social, and useful tribe of birds; they
touch no fruit in our gardens; delight, all except
one species, in attaching themselves to our houses;

amuse us with their migrations, songs, and marvellous

 

* It will be proper to premise here that the Letters LIII., LV., LVII.,
and LX., have been published already in the “Philosophical Trans-
actions.” but nicer observation has furnished several corrections and
additions.

I87

agility ; and clear our outlets from the annoyances of
gnats and other troublesome insects. Some distriCIs
in the South Seas, near Guiaquil,* are desolated, it
seems, by the infinite swarms of venomous mosqui-
toes, which fill the air, and render those coasts in-
supportable. It would be worth inquiring whether
any species of lzz'rmza’z'nes is found in those regions.
Whoever contemplates the myriads of insects that
sport in the sunbeams of a summer evening in this
country, will soon be convinced to what a degree our
atmosphere would be choked with them were it not
for the friendly interposition of the swallows.

Many species of birds have their peculiar lice;
but the /zz'rmm’z'zws alone seem to be annoyed with
dipterous insects, which infest every species, and are
so large, in proportion to themselves, that they must
be extremely irksome and injurious to them. These
are the Hippobasae /zz'rmz(z’z)zcs, with narrow subulated
wings, abounding in every nest; and are hatched by
the warmth of the bird’s own body during incuba-
tion, and crawl about under its feathers.

A species of them is familiar to horsemen in the
south of England under the name of forest-fly; and
to some of side-fly, from its running sideways like
a crab. It creeps under the tails, and about the
groins, of horses, which at their first coming out
of the north, are rendered half frantic by the tick-

 

* See Ulloa's “ Travels."

188

ling sensation; while our own breed little regards
them.

The curious Réaumur discovered the large eggs,
or rather pupa, of these flies as big as the flies them-
selves, which he hatched in his own bosom. Any
person that will take the trouble to examine the old
nests of either species of swallows may find in them
the black shining cases or skins of the pupa of these
insects: but for other particulars, too long for this
place, we refer the reader to “ L’Histoire d’Insects”
of that admirable entomologist—tom. iv. pl. 11.

SELBORNE, fuly 8, I773.

LETTER LIV.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

AS you desire me to send you. such observations
as may occur, I take the liberty of making the fol-
lowing remarks, that you may, according as you
think me right or wrong, admit or reject what I
here advance, in your intended new edition of the
“British Zoology.”

The osprey was shot about a year ago at Frin-
sham pond, a great lake, about six miles from hence,
while it was sitting on the handle of a plough and
devouring a fish: it used to precipitate itself into

the water, and so take its prey by surprise.
' 189

A great ash-coloured butcher-bird was shot last
winter in Tisted Park, and a red-backed butcher-bird
at Selborne: they are mne (was in this county.

Crows go in pairs the whole year round.

Cornish choughs
abound, and breed on

Beachy Head and on

all the cliffs of the Sus-
sex coast.

The common wild

pigeon, or stoclcdove, is

a bird of passage in the

south of England, seldom

  
  

appearing till towards the

end of November; and is usu-

ally the latest winter-bird of passage.

Before our beechen woods were so much

,4 0-07.... destroyed, we had myriads of them,

reaching in strings for a mile together

as they went out in a morning to feed. They
leave us early in spring; where do they breed?

The people of Hampshire and Sussex call the
missel-bird the storm-cock, because it sings early in
the spring in blowing showery weather; its song
often commences with the year: with us it builds
much in orchards.

A gentleman assures me he has taken the nests of
ring-ousels on Dartmoor; they build in banks on the

sides of streams.
Igo

Titlarks not only sing sweetly as they sit on
trees, but also as they play and toy about on the
wing; and particularly while they are descending,
and sometimes as they stand on the ground.

Adanson’s testimony seems to me to be a very
poor evidence that European swallows migrate dur-
ing our-winter to Senegal: he does not talk at all
like an ornithologist; and probably saw only the
swallows of that country, which I know build within
Governor O'Hara's hall against the roof. Had be
known European swallows, would he not have men-
tioned the species?

The house-swallow washes by dropping into the
water as it flies: this species appears commonly about
a week before the house-martin, and about ten or
twelve days before the swift.

In 1772 there were young house—martins in their
nest till the 23rd of October.

The swift appears about ten or twelve days later
than the house-swallow: viz. about the 24th or the
26th of April.

Whin-chats and stone-chatters stay with us the
whole year.

Some wheat-ears continue with us the winter
through.

VVagtails of all sorts remain with us all the
winter. .

Bullfinches when fed on hempseed often become

wholly black.
191

We have vast flocks of female chaffinches all the
winter, with hardly any males among them.

When you say that in breeding time the cock-
snipes make a bleating noise, and I a drumming
sound (perhaps I should have rather said a burn—

ming), I suspect we mean the

_ same thing. However while

kw they are playing about on

J the wing they certainly

make a loud piping with

their mouths : but

whether that bleating

or humming is ventril-

oquous, or proceeds

from the motion of

their wings, I cannot

say; but this I know,

that when this noise

happens, the bird is al-

‘ ways descending, and his

wings are violently agi-
tated.

Soon after the lapwings

 

have done breeding they con-
A bullfinc/z. gregate, and leaving the moors
' and marshes, betake them-
selves to downs and sheep-walks.
Two years ago last spring the little auk was found

alive and unhurt, but fluttering and unable to rise, in
192

a lane a few miles from Alresford, where there
is a great lake: it was kept a while, but died.

1 saw young teals taken alive in
the ponds of VVohner Forest in
the beginning of July last,
along with flappers, or
young wild ducks.

All the swallow kind »\
sip their water as they §
sweep over the face of g
pools or rivers: like
Virgil’s bees they drink
flying — “ fiumina sum-
ma libant." In this meth—
od of drinking perhaps
this genus may be pe-

 

culiar.

 

[a], wings.

The sedge-bird sings most part of the night; its

notes are hurrying, but not unpleasing, and imitative
193

of several birds; as the sparrow, swallow, Skylark.
When it happens to be silent in the night, by throw-
ing astone or clod into the bushes where it sits
you immediately set it a singing; or in other words,
though it slumbers sometimes, yet as soon as it is
awakened it reassumes its song.

Samoan, Nov. 9, 1773.

1.,E'l"l‘l£l{ LV.
'l‘o '1‘ch Hoxouumuac “AINES BARRING'J‘ON.

lN obedience to your injunctions I sit down to
give you some account of the house-martin or mart-
let;"’" and, if my monography of this little domestic
and familiar bird should happen to meet with your
approbation, [ may probably soon extend my inqui-
ries to the rest of the British /zz'rmm’z'/zcs—the swallow,
the swift, and the bank-martin.

A few house-martins begin to appear about the
16th of April; usually some few days later than the
swallow. For some time after they appear, the lzz'rmz-
a’z'm's in general pay no attention to the business of
nidilication, but play and sport about, either to recruit
from the fatigue of their journey, if they do migrate
at all, or else that. their blood may recover its true
tone and textur * after it has been so long benumbed
by the severities of winter. About the middle of

* llz'rmn/u (tr/liar, Linnaeus.

I 94

May, if the weather be fine, the martin begins to

think in earnest of providing a mansion for its lam-

 

l/uznrv-marlnu.

ily. The crust or shell of this nest seems to be
formed of such dirt or loam as comes most readily
to hand. and is tempered and wrought together with
little bits of broken straws to render it tough and
tenacious. As this bird often builds against a per—
pendicular wall without any projecting ledge under,
it requires its utmost efforts to get the first founda-
tion firmly fixed. so that it may safely carry the su-

perstructure. On this occasion the bird not only
105

clings with its claws, but partly supports itself by
strongly inclining its tail against the wall, making
that a fulcrum ; and thus steadied, it works and plas-
ters the materials into the face of the brick or stone.
But then, that this work may not, while it is soft and
green, pull itself down by its own weight, the provi-
dent architect has prudence and forbearance enough
not to advance her work too fast; but by building
only in the morning, and by dedicating the rest .of
the day to food and amusement, gives it sufficient
time to dry and harden. About half an inch seems
to be a sufficient layer for a day. Thus careful work—v
men when they build mud-walls (informed at first per-
haps by this little bird) raise but a moderate layer at
a time, and then desist ; lest the work should become
top-heavy, and so be ruined by its own weight. By
this method in about ten or twelve days is formed an
hemispheric nest with a small aperture towards the
top, strong, compact, and warm; and perfectly fitted
for all the purposes for which it was intended. But
then nothing is more common than for the house-
sparrow, as soon as the shell is finished, to seize on it
as its own, to eject the owner, and to line it after its
own manner.

After so much labour is bestowed in erecting a
mansion, as Nature seldom works in vain, martins
will breed on for several years together in the same
nest, where it happens to be well sheltered and se-

cured from the injuries of weather. The shell or
196

crust of the nest is a sort of rustic-work full of knobs
and'protuberances on the outside: nor isthe inside
of those that I have examined smoothed with any
exactness at all; but is rendered soft and warm, and
fit for incubation, by a lining of small straws, grasses,
and feathers: and sometimes by a bed of moss inter—
woven with wool. In this nest they tread, or engen-
der, frequently during the time of building ; and the
hen lays from three to five white eggs.

At first when the young are hatched, and are in a
naked and helpless condition, the parent birds, with
tender assiduity, carry out what comes away from
their young. Were it not for this affectionate clean-
liness the nestlings would soon be burnt up. and de-
stroyed in so deep. and hollow a nest, by their own
_ caustic excrement. In the quadruped creation the
same neat precaution is made use of; particularly
among dogs and cats, Where the dams lick away what
proceeds from their young. But in birds there seems
to be a particular provision, that the dung of nest-
lings is enveloped in a tough kind of jelly, and there-
fore is the easier conveyed ofl without soiling or
.daubing. Yet, as Nature is cleanly in all her ways,
the young perform this office for themselves in a
little time by thrusting their tails out at the aperture
of their nest. As the young of small birds presently
arrive at their fiMm’a, or full growth, they soon be-
come impatient of confinement, and sit all day with

their heads out of the orifice, where the dams, by
16 I97

clinging to the nest, supply them with food from
morning till night. For a time the young are fed on
the wing by their parents; but the feat is done by so
quick and almost imperceptible a slight, that a per-
son must have attended .very exactly to their motions
before he would be able to perceive it. As soon as
the young are able to shift for themselves, the dams
immediately turn their thoughts to the business of a
second brood, while the first flight, shaken off and
rejected by their nurses, congregate in great flocks,
and are the birds that are seen clustering and hover-
ing on sunny mornings and evenings round towers
and steeples, and on the roofs of churches and
houses. These congregatings usually begin to take
place about the first week in August; and therefore
we may conclude that by that time the first flight is
pretty well over. The young of this species do not
quit their abodes all together; but the more forward
birds get abroad some days before the rest. These
approaching the eaves of buildings, and playing
about before them, make people think that several
old ones attend one nest. They are often capricious
in fixing on a nesting-place, beginning many edifices,
and leaving them unfinished; but when once a nest
is completed in a sheltered place, it serves for several
seasons. Those which breed in a ready-finished house
get the start in hatching Of those that build new by
ten days or a fortnight. These industrious artificers

are at their labours in the long days before four in
198

the morning: when they fix their materials they plas-
ter them on with their chins, moving their heads with
a quick vibratory motion. They dip and wash as they
fly sometimes in very hot weather, but not so fre-
quently as swallows. It has been observed that mar—
tins usually build to a north-east or north-west aspect,
that the heat of the sun may not crack and destroy
their nests; but instances are also remembered where
they bred for many years in vast abundance in a hot
stifled inn-yard, against a wall facing to the south.
Birds in general are wise in their choice of situ-
ation; but in this neighbourhood every summer is
seen a strong proof to the contrary at a house with-
out eaves in an exposed district, where some martins
build year by year in the corners of the windows.
But as the corners of these windows (which face to
the south-east and south-west) are too shallow, the
nests are washed down every hard rain; and yet
these birds drudge on to no purpose from summer
to summer, without changing their aspect or house.
It is a piteous sight to see them labouring when
half their nest is washed away, and bringing dirt “to
-patch the ruins of a fallen race”-—“generis lapsi
sarcire ruinas.” Thus is instinct a most wonderful
but unequal faculty; in some instances so much
above reason, in other respects so far below it!
Martins love to freqUent towns, especially if there
are great lakes and rivers at hand; nay, they even

affect the close air of London. And I have not only
199

seen them nesting in the Borough, but even in the
Strand and Fleet Street; but then it was obvious
from the dinginess of their aspect that their feath-
ers partook of the filth of that sooty atmosphere.
Martins are by far the least agile of the four species;
their wings and tails are short, and therefore they
are not capable of such surprising turns and quick
and glancing evolutions as the swallow. Accord-
ingly, they make use of a placid easy motion in a
middle region of the air, seldom mounting to any
great height, and never sweeping long together over
i the surface of the ground or water. They do not
wander far for food, but aflect sheltered districts,
over some lake, or under some hanging wood, or in
some hollow vale, especially in windy weather.
They breed the latest of all the swallow kind: in
1772 they had nestlings on to October the zlst,
and are never without unfledged young as late as
Michaelmas.

As the summer declines the congregating flocks
increase in numbers daily by the constant accession
of the second broods, till at last they swarm in
myriads upon myriads round the villages on the
Thames, darkening the face of the sky as they fre-
quent the aits of that river, where they roost. They
retire, the bulk of them I mean, in vast flocks to-
gether about the beginning of October; but have
appeared of late years in a considerable flight in this

neighbourhood, for one day or two, as late as No-
200

vember the 3rd and 6th, after they were supposed
to have been gone for more than a fortnight. They
therefore withdraw with us the latest of any species.
Unless these birds are very short-lived indeed, or
unless they do not return to the district where they
are bred, they must undergo vast devastations some-
how, and somewhere; for the birds that return
yearly bear no manner of proportion to the birds
that retire. ,

House-martins are distinguished from their
congeners by having their legs covered with soft,
downy feathers down to their toes. They are no
songsters; but twitter in a pretty inward soft man-
ner in their nests. During the time of breeding
they are often greatly molested with fleas.

SELBORNE, Nov. 20, I773.

LETTER LVI. .

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

I RECEIVED your last favour just as I was setting
out for this place; and am pleased- to, find that my
monograph met with your approbation. My re-
marks are the result of many‘years’ observations;
and are, I trust, true in the whole: though I do not
pretend to say that they are perfectly void of

mistake, or that a more nice observer might not
' 201 '

make many additions, since subjects of this kind are
inexhaustible.

If you think my letter worthy the notice of your
respectable society, you are at liberty to lay it
before them; and they will consider it, I hope, as
it was intended, as a humble attempt to promote a
more minute inquiry into natural history; into the
life and conversation of animals. Perhaps hereafter
Imay be induced to take the house-swallow under
consideration; and from that proceed to the rest of
the British fiz'rmza’z'm‘s.

Though I have now travelled the Sussex Downs
upwards of thirty years, I still investigate that chain
of majestic mountains with fresh admiration year by
year; and think I see new beauties every time I
traverse it. This range, which runs from Chichester
eastward as far as Eastbourne, is about sixty miles
in length, and is called the South Downs, properly
speaking, only round Lewes. As you pass along, it
commands a noble View of the Wild, or weald, on one
hand, and the broad downs and sea on the other.
Mr. Ray used to visit a family at Danny, just at the
foot of these hills; he was so ravished with the
prospect from Plumpton-plain near Lewes, that he
mentions those landscapes in his “Wisdom of God
in the Works of the Creation” with the utmost
satisfaction, and thinks them equal to anything
he had seen in the finest parts of Europe.

For my own part, I think there is something
202

 

lV/zl'lx‘x Mindful, at 1‘11: lm/lnm pf My garden.

 

peculiarly sweet and pleasing in the shapely figured
aspect of chalk-hills in preference to those of stone,
which are rugged, broken, abrupt, and shapeless.

Perhaps I may be singular in my opinion, and
not so happy as to convey to you the same idea;
but I never contemplate these mountains without
thinking I perceive somewhat analogous to growth
in their gentle swellings and smooth fungus-like
protuberances, their fluted sides, and regular hollows
and slopes, that carry at once the air of vegetative
dilatation and expansion. Or was there ever a time
when these immense masses of calcareous matter
were thrown into fermentation by some adventitious
moisture; were raised and leavened into such shapes
by some plastic power; and so made to swell and
heave their broad backs into the sky so much above
the less animated clay of the wild below P

By what I can guess of the admeasurements of
the hills that have been taken round my house, I
should suppose that these bills surmount the wild at
an average of about the rate of five hundred feet.

One thing is very remarkable as to the sheep:
. from the westward until you get to the river Adur ‘
all the flocks have horns, and smooth white faces,
and white legs; and a ,hornless sheep is rarely to be
seen: but as soon as you pass that river eastward,
and mount Beeding Hill, all the flocks at once
become hornless, or, as they call them, poll-sheep;

and have moreover black faces with a white tuft of
203

wool on their foreheads, and speckled and spotted
legs: so that you would think that the flocks of
Laban were pasturing on one side of the stream, and
the variegated breed of his son-in-law Jacob were
cantoned along on the other. And this diversity
holds good respectively on each side from the val-
ley of Brambler and Beeding to the eastward, and
westward all the whole length of the downs. If
you talk with the shepherds on this subject, they
tell you that the case has been so from time im-
memorial; and smile at your simplicity if you ask
them whether the situation of these two different
breeds might. not be reversed? However, an in-
telligent friend of mine near Chichester is de-
termined to try the experiment, and has this au-
tumn, at the hazard of being laughed at, introduced
a parcel of blackJaced hornless rams among his
horned western ewes. The black-faced poll-sheep
have the shortest legs and the finest wool.

[The sheep on the downs in the winter of 1769
were very ragged, and their coats much torn; the
shepherds say they tear their fleeces with their own
mouths and horns, and they are always in that way
in mild wet winters, being teased and tickled with a
kind of lice.

Alter ewes and lambs are shorn, there is great
confusion and bleating, neither the dams nor the
young being able to distinguish one another as

before. This embarrassment seems not so much to
2o4

arise from the loss of the fleece, which may occasion
an alteration in their appearance, as from the defect
of that notus odor, discriminating each individual
personally; which also is confounded by the strong
scent of the pitch and tar wherewith they are newly
. marked; for the brute creation recognize each other
more from the smell than the sight; and in mat-
ters of identity and diversity appeal much more to
their noses than their eyes. After sheep have been
washed there is the same confusion, from the reason
given above.]—OBSERVATIONS ON NATURE.

As I had hardly ever before travelled these
downs at so late a season of the year, I was deter-
mined to keep as sharp a look-out as possible so near
the southern coast, with respect to the summer short-
Winged birds of passage. We make great inquiries
concerning the withdrawing of the swallow kind,
without examining enough into the causes why this
tribe is never to be seen in winter; for, mtre nous,
the disappearing of the latter is more marvellous
than that of the former, and much more unaccount-
able. The liz'runa’z'm’s, if they please, are certainly
capable of migration; and yet no doubt are often
~found in a torpid state: but redstarts, nightingales,
whitethroats, blackcaps, which are very ill provided
for long flights, have never been once found, as I
ever heard of, in a torpid state, and yet can never be
supposed in such troops from year to year to dodge

and elude the eyes of the curious and inquisitive,
205

which from day to day discern the other small birds
that are known to abide our winters. But, notwith-
standing all my care, I saw nothing like a summer
bird of passage: and, what is more strange, not one
wheatear, though they abound so in the autumn as
to be a considerable perquisite to the shepherds that
take them; and though many are to be seen to my
knowledge all the winter through in many parts of
the south of England. The most intelligent shep-
herds tell me that some few of these birds appear on
the downs in March, and then withdraw to breed
probably in warrens and stone quarries: now and
then a nest is ploughed up in a fallow on the downs
under a furrow, but it is thought a rarity. At the
time of wheat-harvest they begin to be taken in
great numbers; are sent for sale in vast quantities
to Brighton and Tunbridge; and appear at the
tables of all the gentry that entertain with any de-
gree of elegance. About Michaelmas they retire,
and are seen no more till March. Though these
birds are, when in season, in great plenty on the
south downs round Lewes, yet at Eastbourne, which
is the eastern extremity of those downs, they abound
much more. One thing is very remarkable—that
though in the height of the season so many hundreds
of dozens are taken, yet they never are seen to flock;
and it is a rare thing to see more than three or four
at a time : so that there must be a perpetual flitting

and constant progressive succession. It does not
206

  
     
     

  

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appear that any wheatears are taken to the west-
ward of Houghton bridge, which stands on the river
Arun. '

I did not fail to look particularly after my new
migration of ring-ousels ; and to take notice whether
they continued on the, downs to this season of the
year; as I had formerly remarked them in the
month of October all the way from Chichester to
Lewes wherever there were any shrubs and coverts ;
but not one bird of this sort came within my ob-
servation. I only saw a few larks and whinchats,
isome rooks, and several kites and buzzards.

About summer a flight of crossbills comes to the
pine-groves about this house, but never makes any
long stay.

The old tortoise, that I have mentioned in a for-
_ mer letter, still continues in this garden ; and retired
under ground about the 20th of November, and
came out again for one day on the 30th : it lies now
buried in a wet swampy border under a wall facing
to the South, and is enveloped at present in mud and
mire ! .

Here is a large rookery round this house, the
inhabitants of which seem to get their livelihood
i very easily; for they spend the greatest part of the
day on their nest-trees when the weather is mild.
These rooks retire every evening all the winter from
this rookery, where they only call by the way, as

they are going to roost in deep woods: at the dawn
207

of day they always revisit their nest-trees, and are
preceded a few minutes by a flight of daws, that act,
as it were, as their harbingers.

KINGMER, mar LEWES, Dec. 9, I773.

208

I7

PART II

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

PART II.

A Selborne stile

Spring in a Selborne garden
House-swallows

Selborne cottages

Sand martins

A nightingale

A weasel .

Redbreasts

Swifts .
A look across the Plestor.
Magpies and their nest
Gypsies in front of“ The Wakes”
A rush-light .
Catching bees .

A pond on Selborne hill.

A walk 1n the vicar’ 5 garden
An old hop-kiln

Old beehives

A village lane .

A‘jackdaw

I Skylarks .

Sparrow hawks

Plowing under the Hanger

A successor to White’s tortoise in the garden at “ The Wakes

Burning an old hedge under the Hanger.
A Jay . .
A modern observer of nature .

iii

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102
107
108
114
127
I37
141
142
I54

A peregrine falcon . . . . . . . .
Selhorne down. . . . . . . . . .
The tower of Selhorne church . . . . .
'I he weather. . . . . . .
'lhe Vicarage at Newton Valence . . . . .
Selborne church seen from the fields . . . .

       
  
        

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.SI/w'ng' in a .R'z'X/mmr gun/m.

THE
NATURAL HISTORY OF SELBORNE.

LETTER LVII.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

THE house-swallow,* or chimney-swallow, is un-
doubtedly the first comer of all the British lzz'rzm-
dines; and appears in general on or about the 13th of
April, as I have remarked from many years’ observa-
tion. Not but now and then a straggler is seen much
earlier: and, in particular, when I was a boy I ob-
served a swallow for a whole day together on a
sunny warm Shrove Tuesday ; which day could not
fall out later than the middle of March, and often
happened early in February.

It is worth remarking that these birds are seen
first about lakes and mill-ponds; and it is also very
_ particular, that if these early visitors happen to find
frost and snow, as was the case in the two dreadful
springs of 1770 and 1771, they immediately with-
draw for a time. A circumstance this much more in
favour of hiding than migration; since it is much

 

* Chimney-Swallow, Hiruna’o rustz'az, Linnaeus.
I

more probable that a bird should retire to its hyber-
naculum just at hand, than return for a week or two
only to warmer latitudes.

The swallow, though called the chimney-swallow,
by no means builds altogether in chimneys, but often

 

llauxe-swa/lo 70:.

within barns and out-houses, against the rafters; and
so she did in Virgil’s time :——“Garrula quam tignis
nidos suspendat hirundo.” “ The twittering swallow
hangs its nest from the beams.”

0
a

In Sweden she builds in barns, and is called Ladu
swa/a, the barn-swallow. 'Besides, in the warmer
parts of-Europe there are no chimneys to houses,
except they are English built : in these countries she
constructs her nest in porches, and gateways, and
galleries, and open halls.

Here and there a bird may affect some odd,
peculiar place; as we have known a swallow build
down a shaft of an old well, through which chalk
had been formerly drawn up for the purpose of
manure: but in general with us this lzzz'rzma’o breeds
in chimneys; and loves to haunt those stacks where
there is a constant fire, no doubt for the sake of
warmth. Not that it can subsist in the immediate
shaft where there is a fire ; but prefers one adjoining
to that of the kitchen, and disregards the perpetual
smoke of that funnel, as I have often observed with
some degree of wonder; .

Five or six or more feet down the chimney does
this little bird begin to form her nest, about the mid-
dle of May, which consists, like that of the house-
martin, of a crust or shell composed of dirt or mud,
mixed with short pieces of straw to render it tough
and permanent: with this difference, that whereas
the shell of the martin is nearly hemispheric, that of
the swallow is open at the top, and like half a deep
dish : this nest is lined with fine grasses, and feathers
which are often collected as they float in the air.

Wonderful is the address which this adroit bird
3

shows all day long in ascending and descending
with security through so narrow a pass. When hov-
ering over the mouth of the funnel, the vibration of
her wings acting on the confined air occasions a rum-
bling like thunder. It is not improbable that the
dam submits to this inconvenient situation so low in
the shaft, in order to secure her broods from rapa-
cious birds, and particularly from owls, which fre-
quently fall down chimneys, perhaps in attempting
to get at these nestlings.

The swallow lays from four to six white eggs,
dotted with red specks; and brings out her first
brood about the last week in June, or the first week
in July. The progressive method by which the
young are introduced into life is very amusing: first,
they emerge from the shaft with difficulty enough,
and often fall down into the rooms below ; for a day
or so they are fed on the chimney-top, and then are
conducted to the dead leafless bough of some tree,
where sitting in a row they are attended with great
assiduity, and may then be called perchers. In a
day or two more they become fiyers, but are still
unable to take their own food; therefore they play
about near the place where the dams are hawking
for flies; and when a mouthful is collected, at a cer—
tain signal given the dam and the nestling advance,
rising towards each other, and meeting at an angle;
the young one all the while uttering such a little

quick note of gratitude and complacency. that a per-
4

son must have paid very little regard to the wonders
of nature that has not often remarked this feat.

The dam betakes herself immediately to the busi-
ness of a second brood as soon as she is disengaged
from her first; which at once associates with the
first broods of house-martins; and with them con-
gregates, clustering on sunny roofs, towers, and
trees. This kz'rzma’o brings out her second brood
towards the middle and end of August.

All the summer long the swallow is a most in-
str‘uctive pattern of unwearied industry and affec-
tion; for from morning to night, while there is a
family to be supported, she spends the whole day in
. skimming close to the ground, and exerting the most
sudden turns and quick evolutions. Avenues, and
long walks under hedges, and pasture-fields, and
mown meadows where cattle graze, are her delight,
especially if there are trees interspersed; because
in such spots insects most abound. When a fly is
taken, a smart snap from her bill is heard, resem-
bling the noise at the shutting of a watch-case; but
the motion of the mandibles is too quick for the eye.

The swallow, probably the male bird, is the
' excuéz'tor to house-martins, and other little birds,
announcing the approach of birds of prey. For as
soon as a hawk appears, with a shrill alarming note
he calls all the swallows and martins about him;
who pursue in a body, and buffet and strike their
enemy till they have driven him from the village,

5

darting down from above on his back, and rising in
a perpendicular line in perfect security. This bird
will also sound the alarm and strike at cats when
they climb on the roofs of houses, or otherwise
approach the nest. Each species of fiz'runa’o drinks
as it flies along, sipping the surface of the water;
but the swallow alone, in general, washes on the
wing, by dropping into a pool for many times
together:* in very hot weather house-martins and
bank-martins also dip and wash a little.

The swallow is a delicate songster, and in soft
sunny weather sings both perching and flying; on
trees in a kind of concert, and on chimney-tops: it is

also a bold flyer, ranging to distant downs and com- .

mons even in windy weather, which the other spe-
cies seem much to dislike; nay, even frequenting
exposed sea-port towns and making little excursions
over the salt water. Horsemen on wide downs are
often closely attended by a little party of swallows
for miles together, which plays before and behind
them. sweeping around and collecting all the skulk-
ing insects that are roused by the trampling of the
horses’ feet: when the wind blows hard, without this
expedient, they are often forced to settle to pick up
their lurking prey.

 

* “ Now suddenly he skims the glassy pool.
Now quaintly dips. and with an arrow’s speed
Whisks by. I love to lie awake, and hear
His morning song twittered to dawning day.”
6

This species feeds much on little coleoptem, as
well as on gnats and flies; and often settles on dug
ground, or paths, for gravels to grind and digest its
food. Before they depart, for some weeks they for-
sake houses and chimneys to a bird, and roost in
trees; and usually withdraw about the beginning of
October; though some few stragglers may appear
at times till the first week in November. '

[September 13, I791. The congregating flocks of
Izz’rundz’ms on the church and tower are very beau-
tiful and amusing! When they fly off together from
the roof, on any alarm, they quite swarm in the air.
But they soon settle in heaps, and preening their
feathers, and lifting up their wings to admit the sun,
seem highly to enjoy the warm situation. Thus
they spend the heat of the day, preparing for their
emigration, and, as it were, consulting when and
where they are to go. The flight about the church
seems to consist chiefly of house-martins, about 400
in number; but there are other places of rendezvous
about the village frequented at the same time.*

It is remarkable, that though most of them sit on

 

* Of their migration the proofs are such as will scarcely 'admit of a
doubt. Sir Charles Wager and Captain Wright saw vast flocks of them
.at sea, when on their passage from one country to another. Our author,
Mr. White, saw what he deemed the actual migration of these birds
which he has described at p. 69, and again in the above extract; and I
once observed a large flock of house-martins myself on the roof of the
church here at Catsfield, which acted exactly in the manner here described
by Mr. White, sometimes preening their feathers and spreading their

7

the battlements and roof, yet many hang or cling
for some time by their claws against the surface of
the walls, in a manner not practised by them at any
other time of their remaining with us.

The swallows seem to delight more in holding
their assemblies on trees.

November 3, 1789. Two swallows were seen
this morning at Newton Vicarage-house hovering
and settling on the roofs and out-buildings. None
have been observed at Selborne since October II.
It is very remarkable, that after the Izz'rmza’z'nes have
disappeared for some weeks, a few are occasionally
seen again: sometimes in the first week in Novem-
ber, and that only for one day. Do they not with-
draw and slumber in some hiding place during the
interval? for we cannot suppose they had migrated
to warmer climes, and so returned again for one day.
Is it not more probable that they are awakened from
sleep, and like the bats are come forth to collect a
little food? Bats appear at all seasons through the
autumn and spring months, when the thermometer is
at 50°, because then plan/mm and moths are stirring.

These swallows looked like young ones.]—OB-
SERVATIONS ON NATURE.

Some few pairs haunt the new and open streets
of London, next the fields, but do not enter, like the

 

wings to the sun, and then flying off all together, but soon returning to
their former situation. The greatest part of these birds seemed to be
young oneS.—lVIARKWICK.

8

house-martin, the close and crowded parts of the
City.

Both male and female are distinguished from
their congeners by the length and forkedness of
their tails. They are undoubtedly the most nimble
of all the species; and when the male pursues the
female in amorous chase, they then go beyond their
usual speed, and exert a rapidity almost too quick
for the eye to follow.

 

 

Sx/Zwvm rn/I‘rtgm.

After this circumstantial detail of the life and
discerning o-Topryrj of the swallow, I shall add, for
your further amusement, an anecdote or two not
much in favour of their sagacity.

9

A certain swallow built for two years together
on the handles of a pairof garden shears that were
stuck up against the boards in an out-house, and
therefore must have her nest spoiled whenever that
implement was wanted: and, what is stranger still,
another bird of the same species built its nest on
the wings and body of an owl that happened by
accident to hang dead and dry from the rafter of a
barn. This owl, with the nest on its wings, and with
eggs in the nest, was brought as a curiosity worthy
the most elegant private museum in Great Britain.
The owner, struck with the oddity of the sight,
furnished the bringer with a large shell, or conch, _
desiring him to fix it just where the owl hung: the
person did as he was ordered, and the following year
a pair, probably the same pair, built their nest in the
conch, and laid their eggs.

The owl and the conch make a strange grotesque
appearance, and are not the least curious specimens
in that wonderful collection of art and nature.

Thus is instinct in animals, taken the least out of
its way, an undistinguishing, limited faculty; and
blind to every circumstance that does not immedi-
ately respect self-preservation, or lead at once to the
propagation or support of their species.

SELBORNE, Sept. 9, I767.

IO

LETTER LVIII.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTO‘N.

I RECEIVED your favour of the 8th, and am
pleased to find that you read my little history of
the swallow with your usual candour: nor was I
the less pleased to find that you made objections
where you saw reason.

As to the quotations, it is difficult to say pre-
cisely which species of /zz'rzmd0 Virgil might in-
tend in the lines in question, since the ancients did
not attend to specific differences like modern natu-
ralists; yet somewhat may be gathered, enough to
incline me to suppose that in the two passages
quoted the poet had his eye on the swallow.

In the first place the epithet garm/a suits the
swallow well, which is a great songster; and not the
martin, which is rather a mute bird; and when it
sings is so inward as scarce to be heard. Besides,
if z‘zgizum in that place signifies a rafter rather than a
beam, as it seems to me to do, then it must be the
swallow that is alluded to, and not the martin; since
the former does frequently build within the roof
against the rafters; while the latter always, as far as
I have been able to observe, builds without the roof
against eaves and cornices.

As to the simile, too much stress must not be
laid on it; yet the epithet mgm speaks plainly in

18 II

favour of the swallow, whose back and wings are
very black; while the rump of the martin is milk-
white, its back and wings blue, and all its under part
white as snow. Nor can the clumsy motions (com-
paratively clumsy) of the martin well represent the
sudden and artful evolutions and quick turns which
Juturna gave to her brother’s chariot, so as to elude
the eager pursuit of the enraged fEneas. The verb
sonat also seems to imply a bird that is somewhat
loquacious.*

We have had a very wet autumn and winter, so
as to raise the springs to a pitch beyond anything
since 1764; which was a remarkable year for floods
and high waters. The land-springs, which we call
levants, break out much on the downs of Sussex,
Hampshire, and Wiltshire. The country people say
when the levants rise corn will always be dear;
meaning that when the earth is so glutted with
water as to send forth springs on the downs and
uplands, the corn-vales must be drowned; and so it
has proved for these ten or eleven years past. For

 

* “ As when the black swallow flies through the great palace of some
wealthy lord, sweeping with its wings through the lofty halls, picking up
tiny scraps of food for its chirping nestlings. at one time twittering in
the empty porches. and at another round the watery ponds."

“ Nigra velut magnas (lomini cum (livitis :edes
l‘ervolat, ct pennis alta atria lustrat hirumlo,
l’abula parva legens, nitlisque loquacibus escas:
lCt nunc porticihus vacuis, nunc llllmltltl circum
Stagnat sonat."—(VIR<:. flit). xii. 473-477.)

12

land-springs have never obtained more in the mem-
ory of man than during that period; nor has there
been known a greater scarcity of all sorts of grain,
considering the great improvements of modern hus-
bandry. Such a run of wet seasons a century or two
ago would, I am persuaded, have occasioned a fam-
ine, therefore pamphlets and newspaper letters, that
talk of combinations, tend to inflame and mislead;
sinCe we must not expect plenty till Providence
sends us more favourable seasons.

The wheat of last year, all round this district, and
in the county of Rutland and elsewhere, yields re-
markably bad: and our wheat on the ground, by the
continual late sudden vicissitudes from fierce frost to
pouring rains, looks poorly ; and the turnips rot very
fast.

SELBORNE, Feb. 14. I774.

LETTER LIX.

TO THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

THE sand-martin, or bank-martin (Hz'rzma’o riparz'a,
Linnaeus), is by much the least of any of the British
kin/”dings,- and, as far as we have ever seen, the
smallest known Izz'rzma’o .- though Brisson asserts that
there is one much smaller, and that is the Hirmm’o

esculmta.

l3

But it is much to be regretted that it is scarce
possible for any observer to be so full and exact as
he could wish in reciting the circumstances attend-
ing the life and conversation of this little bird, since
it is fem natura‘z, at least in this part of the kingdom,
disclaiming all domestic attachments, and haunting

 

 

 

 

 

Sand-martz'ns.

wild heaths and commons where there are large

lakes; while the‘ other species, especially the swallow
I4

and house-martin, are remarkably gentle and domes-
ticated, and never seem to think themselves safe but
under the protection of man.

Here are in this parish, in the sand-pits and banks
of the lakes of Wolmer Forest, several colonies of
these birds; and yet they are never seen in the vil—
lage; nor do they at all frequent the cottages that
are scattered about in that wild district. The only
instance I ever remember where this species haunts
any building is at the town of Bishop’s Waltham, in
this county, where many sand-martins nestle and
breed in the scaffold holes of the back-wall of William
of Wykeham’s stables: but then this wall stands in
a very sequestered and retired inclosure, and faces
upon a large and beautiful lake. Indeed this species
seems so to delight in large waters, that no instance
occurs of their abounding but near vast pools or
rivers: and in particular it has been remarked that
they swarm in the banks of the Thames in some
places below London bridge.

It is curious to observe with what different de-
grees of architectonic skill Providence has endowed
birds of the same genus, and so nearly correspondent
'in their general mode of life ! * For while the swal—

 

* “ Each creature hath a wisdom of its own ;
The pigeo‘ns feed their tender offspring, crying,
When they are callow, but withdraw their food
When they are fledged, that they may teach them flying.”
I HERBERT.

IS

low and the house-martin discover the greatest ad-
dress in raising and securely fixing crusts or shells
of loam as tuna/2251a for their young, the bank-martin
terebrates a round and regular hole in the sand or
earth, which is serpentine, horizontal, and about two
feet deep. At the inner end of this burrow does this
bird deposit, in a good degree of safety, her rude
nest, consisting of fine grasses and feathers, usually
goose-feathers, very inartificially laid together.

Perseverance will accomplish anything: though
at first one would be disinclined to believe that this
weak bird, with her soft and tender bill and claws,
should ever be able to bore the stubborn sand-bank
without entirely disabling herself; yet with these
feeble instruments have I seen a pair of them make
great despatch: and could remark how much they
had scooped that day by the fresh sand which ran
down the bank, and was of a different colour from
that which lay loose and bleached in the sun.

In what space of time these little artists are able
to mine and finish these cavities I have never been
able to discover, for reasons given above; but it
would be a matter worthy of observation, where it
falls in the way of any naturalist to makehis remarks.
This I have often taken notice of, that several holes
of different depths are left unfinished at the end of
summer. To imagine that these beginnings were
intentionally made in order to be in the greater for-

wardness for next spring is allowing perhaps too
16

much foresight and rerum prudential to a simple
bird. May not the cause of these [ateizrae being left
unfinished arise from their meeting in those places
with strata too harsh, hard, and solid for their pur-
pose, which they relinquish, and go to a fresh spot
that works more freely? Or may they not in other
places fall in with a soil as much too loose and
mouldering, liable to founder, and threatening to
overwhelm them and their labours?

One thing is remarkable—that, after some years,
the old holes are forsaken and new ones bored ; per-
haps because the old habitations grow foul and fetid
from long use, or because they may so abound with
fleas as to become untenantable. This species of
swallow moreover is strangely annoyed with fleas:
and we have seen fleas, bed-fleas (Pu/ex z'rrz'z‘am),
swarming at the mouths of these holes, like bees on
the stools of their hives.

The following circumstance should by no means
be omitted—that these birds do not make use of
their caverns by way of hybernacula, as might be
expected; since banks so perforated have been dug
out with care in the Winter, when nothing was found
but empty nests.

The sandmartin arrives much about the same
time with the swallow, and lays, as she does, from
four to six white eggs. But as this species is crypto-
game, carrying on the business of nidification, incu-

bation, and the support of its young in the dark, it
I7

would not be so easy to ascertain the time of breed-
ing, were it not for the coming forth of the broods,
which appear much about the time, or rather some-
what earlier than those of the swallow. The nest-
lings are supported in common like those of their
congeners, with gnats and other small insects; and
sometimes they are fed with [Malia/w (dragon-flies)
almost as long as themselves. In the last week in
June we have seen a row of these sitting on a rail
near a great pool as perchers; and so young and
helpless, as easily to be taken by hand : but whether
the dams ever feed them on the wing, as swallows
and house-martins do, we have never yet been able
to determine: nor do we know whether they pursue
and attack birds of prey.

When they happen to breed near hedges and in-
closures, they are frequently dispossessed of their
breeding holes by the house-sparrow, which is on
the same account a fell adversary to house-martins.

These Izz'runa’z'nes are no songsters, but rather
mute, making only a little harsh noise when a person
approaches their nests. They seem not to be ofla
sociable turn, never with us congregating with their
congeners in the autumn. Undoubtedly they breed
a second time, like the house-martin and swallow, and
withdraw about Michaelmas.

Though in some particular districts they may
happen to abound, yet in the whole, in the south of

England at least, is this much the rarest species.
18

For there are few towns or large villages but what
abound with house-martins; few churches, towers,
or steeples, but what are haunted by some swifts:
scarce a hamlet or a single cottage-chimney that has
not its swallow; while the bank-martins, scattered
here and there, live a sequestered life among some
abrupt sand-hills, and in the precipitous banks of
some few rivers.

These birds have a peculiar manner of flying:
flitting about with odd jerks, and vacillations, not
unlike the motions of a butterfly. Doubtless the
flight of all m‘rundms is influenced by, and adapted
to, the peculiar sort of insects which furnish their
food. Hence it would be worth inquiry to examine
what particular genus of insects affords the principal
food of each respective species of swallow.

Notwithstanding what has been advanced above,
some few sand-martins, I see, haunt the skirts of Lon-
don, frequenting the dirty pools in Saint George’s
Fields, and about Whitechapel. The question is
where these build, since there are no banks or bold
shores in that neighbourhood: perhaps they nestle
in the scaffold holes of some old or new deserted
building. They dip and wash as they 'fly sometimes,
‘ like the house-martin and swallow.

Sand-martins differ from their congeners in the
diminutiveness of their size, and in their colour,
which is what is usually called a mouse-colour.

Near Valencia in Spain, they are taken, says Wil-
. 19

lughby, and sold in the markets for the table; and
are called by the country people, probably from
their desultory jerking manner of flight, Papz'lz'on dz

[1/ aizlagna.

SELBORNE, Fez}. 26, I774.

LETTER LX.

' 5
To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

BEFORE your letter arrived, and of my own ac-
cord, 1 have been remarking and comparing the tails
of the male and female swallow, and this ere any
young birds appeared; so that there is no danger
of confounding the dams with their pullz': and be-
sides, as they were then always in pairs, and busied
in the employ of nidification, there could be no room
for mistaking the sexes. nor the individuals of differ-
ent chimneys the one for the other. From all my
observations, it constantly appeared that each sex
has the long feathers in its tail that give it that
forked shape; with this difference, that they are
longer in the tail of the male than in that of the
female.

Nightingales, when their young first come
abroad, and are helpless, make a plaintive and a
jarring noise; and also a snapping or cracking,
pursuing people along the hedges as they walk:

20

these last sounds seem intended for menace and
defiance,
The grass- ~._.
hopper - lark - -
chirps all night
in the height
Of summer.
Swans turn
White the Sec-
0nd Year, and
breed the third.
Wease15prey
on moles, as ap-

 

pears by their . _ .
being some- “in- raw-.4. _.. l4..-~;,;.;;.i....; i.-‘._~.;.i_..-i,..‘..;,~.q
times caught in A mgr/itingale.
mole-traps.

Sparrow-hawks sometimes breed in old crows’
nests, and the kestril in churches and ruins.

There are supposed to be two sorts of eels in the
island of Ely. The threads sometimes discovered in
eels are perhaps their young: the generation of eels
is very dark and mysterious.

Hen—barriers breed on the ground, and seem
never to settle on trees.

[Of this bold bird White afterwards writes in his
“ Observations: ”—-“A gentleman flushed a pheasant
in a wheat stubble, and shot at it; when, notwith-

standing the report of the gun, it was immediately
2I

pursued by the blue hawk known by the name of the
hen-harrier, but escaped into some covert. He then
sprung a second and a third in the

same field, that got away in the
same manner; the hawk hover-
ing round him all the while that
he was beating the field, con-
scious no doubt of the game that
lurked in the stubble. Hence
we may conclude that, this bird
of prey was rendered very dar-
ing and bold by hunger, and that

 

hawks cannot always seize their
game when they please. We may
A weasel. farther observe, that they cannot
pounce on their quarry on the
ground, where it might be able to make a stout
resistance, since so large a fowl as a pheasant could
not but be visible to the piercing eye of a hawk,
when hovering over the field. Hence that propen-
sity of cowering and squatting till they are almost
trod on, which no doubt. was intended as a mode of
security; though long rendered destructive to the
whole race of Gal/ind; by the invention of nets and
guns]
When redstarts shake their tails they move them
horizontally, as dogs do when they fawn: the tail of
a wagtail, when in motion, bobs up and down like

that of a jaded horse.

22

Hedge-sparrows have a remarkable flirt with
their wings in breeding-time; as soon as frosty
mornings come they make a very piping plaintive
noise.

Many birds which become silent about Midsum-
mer reassume their notes again in September; as the
thrush, blackbird, woodlark, willow-wren, &c.; hence
August isby much the most mute month, the spring,
summer, and autumn through. Are birds induced
to sing again because the temperament of autumn
resembles that of spring?

Linnaeus ranges plants geographically: palms in-
habit the tropics, grasses the temperate zones, and
mosses and lichens the polar circles; no doubt ani-
mals may be classed in the same manner with pro-
priety.

House-sparrows build under eaves in the spring;
as the weather becomes hotter they get out for
coolness, and nest in plum-trees and apple-trees.
These birds have been known sometimes to build
in rooks’ nests, and sometimes in the forks of boughs
under rooks’ nests. ‘

As my neighbour was housing a rick he observed
that his dogs devoured all the little red mice that
they could catch, but rejected the common mice;
and that his cats ate the common mice, refusing
the red.

Redbreasts sing all through the spring, summer,

and autumn. The reason that they are called au-
23

tumn songsters is, because in the first two seasons
their voices are drowned and lost in the general
chorus; in the

 

latter their song
becomes distin-

w...”
.-

guishable. Many
songsters of the
autumn seem to
be the young
cock redbreasts
of that year:
notwithstanding
the prejudices
in their favour,
they do much

 

 

mischief in gar-

 

dens to the sum-
mer-fruits. They

Red/Ireasts.

eat also the ber—
ries of the ivy, the honeysuckle, and the Ezwnymus
Europwus, or spindle-tree. ,

The titmouse, which .early in February begins to
make two quaint notes like the whetting of a saw, is
the marsh titmouse; the great titmouse sings with
three cheerful joyous notes, and begins about the
same time.

Wrens sing all the winter through, frost ex-
cepted.

House-martins came remarkably late this year
24

both in Hampshire and Devonshire. Is this cir-
cumistance for or against either hiding or migration ?

MOst birds drink sipping at intervals, but pigeons
take a long continued draught, like quadrupeds.

Notwithstanding What I have said in a former
letter, no grey crows were ever known to breed on
Dartmoor: it was my mistake.

The appearance and flying of the Scarabwus solsti-
z‘z'a/z's, or fern chafer, commence with the month of
July, and cease about the end of it. These scarabs
are the cOnstant food of caprz'mu/gz’, or fern-owls,
through that period. They abound on the chalky
downs, and in some sandy districts, but not in the
clays.

In the garden of the Black-Bear Inn in the town
of Reading is a stream or canal running under the
“stables and out into the fields on the other side of
the road: in this water are many carps, which lie
rolling about in sight, being fed by travellers, who
amuse themselves by tossing them bread; but as
soon as the weather grows at all severe these fishes
are no longer seen, because they retire under the
‘ stables, where they remain till the return of spring.
Do they lie in a torpid state? If they do not, how
are they supported ?

The note of the whitethroat, which is continually
repeated, and often attended with odd gesticulations
on the wing, is harsh and displeasing. These birds
seem of a pugnacious disposition; for they sing with

_ 25 _

an erected crest and attitudes of rivalry and defi-
ance; are shy and wild in breeding-time, avoiding
neighbourhoods, and haunting lonely lanes and com-
mons; nay, even the very tops of the Sussex downs,
where there are bushes and covert; but in July
and August they bring their broods into gardens
and orchards, and make great havoc among the
summer fruits. ‘

The blackcap has'in common a full, sweet, deep,
loud, and. wild pipe; yet that strain is of short con-
tinuance, and his motions are desultory; but when
that bird sits calmly and engages in song in earnest,
he pours forth very sweet, but inward melody, and
expresses great variety of soft and gentle modula-
tions, superior perhaps to those of any of Our war-
blers, the nightingale excepted. Blackcaps mostly
haunt orchards and gardens; while they warble,
their throats are wonderfully distended.

The song of, the redstart is superior, though
somewhat like that of the whitethroat: some birds
have a few more notes than others. Sitting very
placidly on the top of a tall tree in a village, the
cock sings from morning till night: he affects neigh-
bourhoods, and avoids solitude, and loves to build
in orchards and about houses; with us he perches
on the vane of a tall maypole.

The flycatcher is of all our summer birds the
most mute and the most familiar; it also appears

the last of any. It builds in a vine, or a sweetbriar,
26

against the wall of a house, or in the hole of a wall,
or on the end of a beam or plate, and often close to
the post of a door where people are going in and out
all day long. This bird does not make the least
pretension to song, but uses a little inward wailing
note when it thinks its young in danger from cats
or other annoyances: it breeds but once, and retires
early.

Selborne parish alone can and has exhibited at
times more than half the birds that are ever seen
in all Sweden; the former has produced more than
one hundred and twenty species, the latter only two
hundred and twenty-one. Let me add also, that it
has shown near half the species that were ever known
in Great Britain; Sweden having two hundred and
twenty-one, Great Britain two hundred and fifty-two
species.

On a retrospect, I observe that my long letter
carries with it a quaint and magisterial air, and is
very sententious; but whenI recollect that you re-
quested stricture and anecdote, I hope you will par-
don the didactic manner for the sake of the informa-

‘ tion it may happen'to contain.

SELBORNE, Sept. 2, I774.

I9 ‘ 27

LETTER LXI.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

IT is matter of curious inquiry to trace out how
those species of soft-billed birds, that continue with
us the winter through, subsist during the dead
months. The imbecility of birds seems not to be the
only reason why they shun the rigour of our win-
ters; for the robust wryneck* (so much resembling
the hardy race of woodpeckers) migrates, while the
feeble little golden-crowned wren, that shadow of
a bird, braves our severest frosts without availing
himself of houses or villages, to which most of our
winter-birds crowd in distressful seasons, while this
keeps aloof in fields and woods; but perhaps this
may be the reason why they may often perish,
and why they are almost as rare as any bird we
know.

I have no reason to doubt but that the soft-billed
birds, which winter with us, subsist chiefly on in-
sects in. their aurelia state. All the species of wag—
tails in severe weather haunt shallow streams near
their spring heads, where they never freeze; and, by

 

* “Wrynecks appear on the grass-plots and walks; they walk a
little as well as hop, and thrust their bills into the turf, in quest, I
conclude, of ants, which are their food. While they hold their bills in
the grass, they draw out their prey with their tongues, which are so
long as to be coiled round their heads,” says White in his “Obser-

vations."
28

wading, pick out the aurelias of the genus of P/zry-
game, &c.*

Hedge-sparrows frequent sinks and gutters in
hard weather, where they pick up crumbs and other
sweepings: and in mild weather they procure worms,
which are stirring every month in the year, as any
one may see that will only be at the trouble of taking
a candle to a grass-plot on any mild winter’s night.
Redbreasts and wrens in the winter haunt out-houses,
stables, and barns, where they find spiders and flies
that have laid themselves up during the cold season.
But the grand support of the soft-billed birds in win—
teris that infinite-profusion of (lure/2w of the Lepz'dop-
tam ordo, which is fastened to the twigs of trees and
their trunks, to the pales and walls of gardens and
buildings, and is found in every cranny and cleft of
rock or rubbish, and .even in the ground itself.

Every species of titmouse winters with us; they
have what I call a kind of intermediate bill between
the hard and the soft, between the Linnaean genera
of Frz’ngz'lla and Motacz'l/a. One species alone spends
its whole time in the woods and fields, never retreat-
ing for succour, in the severest seasons, to houses
and neighbourhoods; and that is the delicate long-
tailed titmouse, which is almOst as minute as the

golden-crowned wren: but the blue titmouse, or nun
(Pam: cwruleus), the cole-mouse (Pam: at”), the great

 

* Derham’s “ Physico Theology.”
29

black-headed titmouse (Pants frz'Izng/ago, now major),
and the marsh titmouse (Paruspalustrz's), all resort,
at times, to buildings; and in hard weather par-
ticularly. The great titmouse, driven by stress of
weather, much frequents houses, and, in deep snows,
I have seen this bird, while it hung with its back
downwards (to my no small delight and admira-
tion), draw straws lengthwise from out the eaves of
thatched houses, in order to pull out the flies that
were concealed between them, and that in such num-
bers that they quite defaced the thatch, and gave it
a ragged appearance.

The blue titmouse, or nun, is a great frequenter
of houses, and a general devourer. Besides insects,
it is very fond of flesh ; for it frequently picks bones
on dunghills: it is a vast admirer of suet, and haunts
butchers’ shops. \Vhen a boy, I have known twenty
in a morning caught with snap mouse-traps, baited
with tallow or suet. It will also pick holes in apples
left on the ground, and will be well entertained with
the seeds on the head of a sunflower. The blue,
marsh, and great titmice will, in very severe weather,
carry away barley and oat straws from the sides of
ricks.

How the wheatear and whinchat support them-
selves in winter cannot be so easily ascertained, since
they spend their time on wild heaths and warrens;
the former especially, where there are stone quar—

ries: most probably it is that their maintenance
30

arises from the azure/ix of the Lepz'a’opz‘era ordo, which
furnish them with a plentiful table in the wilderness.

LETTER LXII.

To THE HONOURABLF, DAINES BARRINGTON.

As the swift or black martin is the largest of the
British /zz'rmza’z'7z€5, so is it undoubtedly the latest
comer. For I remember but one instance of its ap-

 

 

 

 

Sawfly.

pearing before the last week in April; and in some
of our late frosty, harsh springs, it has not been seen
till the beginning of May.. This species usually ar—
rives in pairs.

3.1

The swift, like the sand-martin, is very defective
in architecture, making no crust, or shell, for its
nest; but forming it of dry grasses and feathers,
very rudely and inartificially put together. With
all my attention to these birds, 1 have never been
able once to discover one in the act of collecting or
carrying in materials: so that I have suspected (since
their nests are exactly the same) that they sometimes
usurp upon the house-sparrows, and expel them, as
sparrows do the house and sand—martin; well re-
membering that I have seen them squabbling to-
gether at the entrance of their holes; and the spar-
rows up in arms, and much disconcerted at these
intruders. And yet I am assured by a nice observer
in such matters, that they do collect feathers for
their nests in Andalusia; and that he has shot them
with such materials in their mouths.

Swifts, like sand-martins, carry on the business of
nidification, quite in the dark, in crannies of castles,
and towers, and steeples, and upon the tops of the
walls of churches under the roof; and therefore can-
not be so narrowly watched as those species that
build more openly; but, from what I could ever
observe, they begin nesting about the middle of
May; and I have remarked, from eggs taken, that
they have sat hard by the 9th of June. In general
they haunt tall buildings, churches, and steeples, and
breed only in such: yet in this village some pairs

frequent the lowest and meanest cottages, and edu-
32

cate their young under those thatched roofs. I re-
member but one instance where they bred out of
buildings ; and that was in the sides of a deep chalk-
pit near the town of Odiham, in this county, where
I have Seen many pairs entering the crevices, and
skimming and squeaking round the precipices.

As I have regarded these amusive birds with no
small attention, if I should advance something new
and peculiar with respect to‘them, and different from
all other birds,I might perhaps be credited; espe-
cially as my assertion is the result of many years’
exact observation. The fact that I would advance
is, that swifts propagate on the wing: and I would
wish any nice observer, that is startled at this sup-
position, to use his own eyes, and I think he will
soon be convinced. In another class of animals, viz.
the insect, nothing is so common as to see the differ-
ent species of many genera in conjunction as they
fly. The swift is almost continually on the wing;
and as it never settles on the ground, on trees, or
roofs, would seldom find opportunity for amorous
rites, was it not enabled to indulge them in the air.
If any person would watch these birds of a fine
morning in May, as they are sailing round, at a great
height from the ground, he would see, every now
and then, one drop on the back of another, and both
of them sink down together for many fathoms with a
loud piercing shriek. This I take to be the juncture

when the business of generation is carrying on.
33

As the swift eats, drinks, collects materials for its
nest, and, as it seems, propagates on the wing, it ap-
pears to live more in the air than any other bird, and
to perform all functions there save those of sleeping
and incubation. '

This /zz'rmzdo differs widely from its congeners in
laying invariably but two eggs at a time, which are
milk-white, long, and peaked at the small end;
whereas the other species lay at each brood from
four to six. It is a most alert bird, rising very early
and retiring to roost very late; and is on the wing
in the height of summer at least sixteen hours. In
the longest days it dOes not withdraw to rest till a
quarter before nine in the evening, being the latest
of all day birds. Just before they retire whole
groups of them assemble high in the air, and squeak,
and shoot about with wonderful rapidity. But this
bird is never so much alive as in sultry thundery
weather, when it expresses great alacrity, and calls
forth all its powers. In hot mornings, several, get-
ting together in little parties, dash round the steeples
and churches, squeaking as they go in a very clam-
orous manner: these, by nice observers, are sup-
posed to be males serenading their sitting hens ; and
not without reason, since they seldom squeak till
they come close to the walls or eaves, and since
those within utter at the same time a little inward
note of complacency.

When the hen has sat hard all day, she rushes
34

forth for a few minutes, just as it is almost dark, to
stretch and relieve her weary limbs, and snatch a
scanty meal, and then returns to her duty of incuba-
tion. . Swifts, when wantonly and cruelly shot while
they have young, discover a lump of insects in their
mouths, which they pouch and hold under their
tongue. In general they feed in a much higher dis-
trict than the other species; a proof that gnats and
other insects do also abound to a considerable height
in the air: they also range to vast distances; since
locomotion is no labour to them, who are endowed
with such wonderful powers of wing. Their powers
seem to be in proportion to their levers; and their
wings are longer in proportion than those of al-
most any other bird. When they mute, or ease
themselves in flight, they raise their wings, and
make them meet over their backs.

At some certain times in the summer I had re-
marked that swifts were hawking very low for hours
together over pools and streams ; and could not help
inquiring into the object of the pursuit that induced
them to descend so much below their usual range.
_ After some trouble I found that they were taking
pita/game, epkemerw and libel/ale (caddis-flies, may-
flies, and dragon-flies) that were just emerged from
their aurelia state. I then no longer wondered that
they should be so willing to stoop for a prey that
afforded them such plentiful and succulent nourish-

ment.
35

They bring out their young about the middle
or latter end of July: but as these never become
perchers, nor, that ever I could discern, are fed on
the wing by their dams, the coming forth of the
young is not so notorious as in the other species.

()n the 30th of last june I untiled the eaves of a
house where many pairs build, and found in each
nest only two squabs, naked fizz/[2's on the 8th of July
1 repeated the same inquiry, and found they had
made very little progress towards a fledged state,
but were still naked and helpless. From whence we
may conclude that birds whose way of life keeps
them perpetually on the wing would not be able to
quit their nest till the end of the month. Swallows
and martins, that have numerous families, are con-
tinually feeding them every two or three minutes;
while swifts, that have but two young to maintain,
are much at their leisure, and do not attend on their
nests for hours together.

Sometimes they pursue and strike at hawks that
come in their way; but not with that vehemence
and fury that swallows express on the same occa-
sion. They are out all day long in wet days, feed-
ing about, and disregarding still rain: from whence
two things may be gathered: first, that many insects
abide high in the air, even in rain: and next, that
the feathers of these birds must be well preened
to resist so much wet. Windy, and particularly

windy weather with heavy showers, they dislike;
36

itixk :3 3:5 ..\.i\ E.

 

and on such days withdraw, and are scarce ever
seen. I

There is a circumstance respecting the colour of
swifts which seems not to be unworthy of our atten-
tion. .VVhen they arrive in the spring they are all
over of a glossy, dark, soot-colour, except their
chins, which are white; but, by being all day long in
the sun and air, they become quite weather-beaten
and bleached before they depart, and yet they re-
turn glossy again in the spring. Now, if they pur-
sue the sun into lower latitudes, as some suppose, in
order to enjoy a perpetual summer, why do they
not return bleached? Do they not rather perhaps
retire to rest for a season, and at that juncture moult
and change their feathers, since all other birds are
known to moult soon after the season of breeding?

Swifts are very anomalous in many particulars,
dissenting from all their congeners not only in the
number of their young, but in breeding but once in
a summer; whereas all the other British Izz'rmza’z'nes
breed invariably twice. It is past all doubt that
swifts can breed but once, since they withdraw in a
short time after the flight of their young, and some
i time before their congeners bring out. their second
broods. - We may here remark, that, as swifts breed
but once in a summer, and only two at a time, and
‘ the other lzz’rundz'nes twice, the latter, who lay from
four to six eggs, increase at an average five times

as fast as the former.
37

But in nothing are swifts more singular than in
their early retreat. They retire, as to the main body
_of them, by the 10th of August, and sometimes a
few days sooner: and every straggler invariably
withdraws by the 20th, while their congeners, all of
them, stay till the beginning of October; many of
them all through that month, and some occasionally
to the beginning of November. This early retreat
is mysterious and wonderful, since that time is often
the sweetest season in the year. But, what is more
extraordinary, they begin to retire still earlier in the.
most southerly parts of Andalusia, where they can
be no ways influenced by any defect of heat; or, as
one might suppose, defect of food. Are they regu-
lated in their motions with us by a failure of food,
or by a propensity to moulting, or by a disposition
to rest after so rapid a life, or by what? This is one
of those incidents in natural history that not only
baflies our searches, but almost eludes our guesses!

These lzz'rzma’z'nes never perch on trees or roofs,
and so never congregate with their congeners.
They are fearless while haunting their nesting-places,
and are not to be scared by a gun; and are often
beaten down with poles and cudgels as they stoop to
go under the eaves. Swifts are much infested with
those pests to the genus called lzz'ppolzoscaz (Ana/pare
fiz’rztncz’z'm's, Leach), and often wriggle and scratch
themselves, in their flight, to get rid of that cling-
ing annoyance.

38

Swifts are no songsters, and have only one harsh
screaming note; yet there are ears to which it is
not displeasing, from an agreeable association of
ideas, since that note never occurs but in the most
lovely summer weather.

They never settle on the- ground but through
accident; and when down can hardly rise, on ac- ,
count of the shortness of their legs and the length
of their wings: neither can they walk, but only
crawl; but they have a strong grasp with their
feet, by which they cling to walls. Their bodies
being flat, they can enter a very narrow crevice;
and when they cannot pass on their bellies they will
turn up edgewise. _

The particular formation of the foot discrimi-
nates the swift from all the British /22'rzz7zdz'nes; and
indeed from all other known birds, the Hz'runa’o
meléa, or great white-bellied swift of Gibraltar, ex-
cepted; for it is so disposed as to carry “omnes
quatuor digitos anticos”—“all its four toes for-
ward;” besides, the least toe, which should be the
back one, consists of one bone only, and the other
three of only two apiece: a construction most rare
- and peculiar, but nicely adapted to the purposes in
which their feet are employed. This, and some
peculiarities attending the nostrils and under mandi-
ble, have induced a discerning naturalist to suppose
that this species might constitute a genus by itself.

In London a party of swifts frequent the Tower,
39

playing and feeding over the river just below the
bridge: others haunt some of the churches of the
Borough next the fields; but do not venture, like
the house-martin, into the close, crowded part of
the town.

The Swedes have bestowed a very pertinent
name on this swallow, calling it “ring swala,” from
the perpetual rings or circles that it takes round the
scene of its nidification.

Swifts feed on coleoptera, or small beetles with
hard cases over their wings, as well as on the softer
insects; but it does not appear how they can pro-
cure gravel to grind their food, as swallows do,
since they never settle on the ground. Young ones,
overrun with lzz‘ppoboscce, are sometimes found under
their nests, fallen to the ground; the number of
vermin rendering their abode insupportable any
longer. They frequent in this village several abject
cottages; yet a succession still haunts the same un-
likely roofs: a good proof this that the same birds
return to the same spots. As they must stoop very
low to get up under these humble eaves, cats lie in
wait, and sometimes catch them on the wing.

On the 5th of July, 1775, I again untiled a part
of a roof over the nest of a swift. The dam sat in
the nest; but so strongly was she affected by her
natural aropryfi for her brood, which she supposed to
be in danger, that, regardless of her own safety, she

would not stir, but lay sullenly by them, permitting
4o

herself to be taken in hand. The squab young we
brought down and placed on the grass-plot, where
they tumbled about, and were as helpless as a new-
born child. While we contemplated their naked
bodies, their unwieldy disproportioned abdomz'zza,
and their heads too heavy for their necks to support,
we could not but wonder when we reflected that
these shiftless beings in little more than a fortnight
would be able to dash through the air almost with
the inconceivable swiftness of a meteor; and per-
haps, in their emigration, must traverse vast conti-
nents and oceans as distant as the equator. So
soon does Nature advance small birds to their
fiMm’a, or state of perfection; while the progressive
growth of men and large quadrupeds is slow and
tedious!

SELBORNE, Sept. 28, I774.

LETTER LXIII.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINEs BARRINGTON.

BY means of the straight cottage-chimney I had
an opportunity this summer of remarking at my
leisure how swallows ascend and descend through
the shaft; but my pleasure in contemplating the
address with which this feat is performed to a con-

siderable depth in the chimney was somewhat inter-
20 41

rupted by apprehensions lest my eyes might undergo
the same fate with those of Tobit.

Perhaps it may be some amusement to you to
hear at what times the different species of kz'rzma’z'izes
arrived this spring in three very distant counties of
this kingdom. With us the swallow was seen first
on April the 4th, the swift on April the 24th, the
bank-martin on April the 12th, and the house-martin
not till April the 30th. At South Zele, Devonshire,
swallows did not arrive till April the 25th; swifts,
in plenty, on May the Ist, and house-martins not till
the middle of May. At Blackburn, in Lancashire,
swifts were seen on April the 28th, swallows April
the 29th, house-martins May the 1st. Do these dif-
ferent dates in such distant districts prove anything
for or against migration?

A farmer near VVeyhill fallows his land with two
teams of asses; one of which works till noon, and
the other in the afternoon. When these animals
have done their work, they are penned all night, like
sheep, on the fallow. In the winter they are confined
and foddered in a yard, and make plenty of dung.

Linnaeus says that hawks “make a truce with
other birds as long as the cuckoo is heard : ” “ pacis-
cuntur inducias cum avibus, quamdiu cuculus cucu-
lat: ” but it appears to me that, during that period,
many little birds are taken and destroyed by birds
of prey, as may be seen by the feathers left in lanes

and under hedges.
42

The missel-thrush is, while breeding, fierce and
pugnacious, driving such birds as approach its nest
with great fury to a distance. The Welsh call it
“‘pen y llwynn,” the head or master of the copoice.
He suffers no magpie, jay, or blackbird to enter the

 

 

 

 

M agpz'es and t/zez'r nest.

garden Where he haunts; and is, for the time,.a good
guard to the new-sown legumens. In general he is

very successful in the defence of his family; but once
43

I observed in my garden, that several magpies came
determined to storm the nest of a misseLthrush:
the dams defended their mansion with great vigour,
and fought resolutely for “their faith and for their
homes:” pro art's et focz's; but numbers at last pre-
vailed, they tore the nest to pieces, and swallowed
the young alive.

[Thrushes during long droughts are of great serv-
ice in hunting out shell-snails,* which they pull in
pieces for their young, and are thereby very service-
able in gardens. Missel-thrushes do not destroy the
fruit in gardens like the other species of turdz', but
feed on the berries and mistletoe, and in the spring
on ivy-berries, which then begin to ripen.+ In the
summer, when their young become fledged, they
leave neighbourhoods, and retire to sheep-walks and i
wild commons. This species of thrush, though wild
at other times, delights to build near houses, and in
frequented walks and gardens]

 

* Of the truth of this I have been an eye-witness, having seen the
common thrush feeding on the shell-snail.—MARKWICK.

+111 the very early part of this spring (I797) a bird of this species
used to sit every morning on the top of some very high elms close by
my windows, and delight me with its charming song, attracted thither,
probably, by some ripe ivy-berries that grew near the place.

I have remarked something like the latter fact, for I remember
many years ago, seeing a pair of these birds fly up repeatedly and
attack some larger bird, which I supposed disturbed their nest in my
orchard, uttering at the same time violent shrieks. Since writing the
above, I have seen more than once a pair of these birds attack some
magpies that had disturbed their nest, with great violence and loud
shrieks.—MARKWICK.

44

In the season of nidification the wildest birds are
comparatively tame. Thus the ring—dove breeds in
my fields, though they are continually frequented;
and the 'missel-thrush, though most shy and wild in
the autumn and winter, builds in my garden close
to a walk where people are passing all day long.

Wall-fruit abounds with me this year; but my
grapes, that used to be forward and good, are at
present backward beyond all precedent: and this
is not the worst of the story; for the same ungenial
weather, the same black cold solstice, has injured
the more necessary fruits of the earth, and dis-
coloured and blighted our wheat. The crop of hops
promises to be very large.

Frequent returns of deafness incommode me sad-
ly, and half disqualify me as a naturalist; for, when
those fits are upon me, I lose all the pleasing notices
and little intimations arising from rural sounds; and
May isto me as silent and mute with respect to the
notes of birds, etc., as August. .My eyesight is,
thank God, quick and good; but with respect to
the other sense, I am, at times, disabled:

“ And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.”

SELBORNE, Sept. I3, I774.

45

l,E'l"l‘lCR LXIV.
'l‘o 'l‘HoMAs l’icNNAN'I', ESQ.

80ch future faunist, a man of fortune, will, I
hope, extend his visits to the kingdom of Ireland; a
new field, and a country little known to the natural-
ist. He will not, it is to be wished, undertake that
tour unaccompanied by a botanist, because the
mountains have scarcely been sufficiently examined;
and the southerly counties of so mild an island may
possibly afford some plants little to be expected
within the British dominions. A person of a think-
ing turn of mind will draw many just remarks from
the modern improvements of that country, both in
arts and agriculture, where premiums obtained, long
before they were heard of with us. The manners of
the wild natives, their superstitions, their prejudices,
their sordid way of life, will extort from him many
useful reflections. He should also take with him an
able draughtsmzm; for he must by no means pass
over the noble castles and seats, the extensive and
picturesque lakes and waterfalls, and the lofty stu-
pendous mountains, so little known, and so engaging
to the imagination when described and exhibited in
a lively manner: such a. work would be well re-
ceived.

As l have seen no modern map Of Scotland,l

cannot pretend to say how accurate or particular
46

any such may be; but this I know, that the best old
maps of that kingdom are very defective. The great
obvious defect that I have remarked in all maps of
Scotland that have fallen in my way is the want of
a coloured line or stroke that shall exactly define
the just limits of that district called the Highlands.
Moreover, all the great avenues to that mountain-
ous and romantic country want to be well distin-
guished. The military roads formed by General
Wade are so great and Roman-like an undertaking
that they will merit attention. My old map, Moll's
map, takes notice of Fort William; but could not
mention the other forts that have been erected long
since: therefore a good representation of the chain
of forts should not be omitted.

The celebrated zigzag up the Coryarich must
not‘be passed over. Moll takes notice of Hamilton
and Drumlanrig, and such capital houses; but the
new survey, no doubt, should represent every seat
and castle remarkable for any great event, or cele—
brated for its paintings, &c. Lord Breadalbane’s
seat and beautiful policy are too curious and ex-
traordinary to be omitted.

_ The seat of the Earl of Eglintoun, near Glasgow,
is worthy of notice. The pine-plantations of that
nobleman are very grand and extensive indeed.

SELBORNE, Marc]; 9, i775.

47

LETTER LXV.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

ON September the 21st, 1741, being then on a
visit, and intent on field-diversions, I rose before day-
break: when I came into the inclosures, I found the
stubbles and clover-grounds matted all over with a
thick coat of cobweb, in the meshes of which a copi-
ous and heavy dew hung so plentifully that the whole
face of the country seemed, as it were, covered with
two or three setting-nets drawn one over another.
When the dogs attempted to hunt, their eyes were
so blinded and hoodwinked that they could not pro-
ceed, but were obliged to lie down and scrape the
incumbrances from their faces with their fore-feet,
so that, finding my sport interrupted, I returned
home, musing in my mind on the oddness of the
occurrence.

As the morning advanced the Sun became bright
and warm, and the day turned out one of those most
lovely ones which no season but the autumn pro-
duces, cloudless, calm, serene, and worthy of the
South of France itself.

About nine an appearance very unusual began to
demand our attention, a shower of cobwebs falling
from very elevated regions, and continuing, without
any interruption, till the close of the day. These
webs were not single filmy threads, floating in the

48

air in all directions, but perfect flakes or rags; some
near an inch broad, and five or six long, which fell
with a degree of velocity that showed they were
considerably heavier than the atmosphere.

On every side, as the observer turned his eyes,
might he behold a continual succession of fresh
flakes falling into his sight, and twinkling like stars
as they turned their sides towards the sun.

How far this wonderful shower extended it
would be difficult to say; but we know that it
reached Bradley, Selborne, and Alresford, three
places which lie in a sort of triangle, the shortest of
whose sides is about eight miles in extent.

At the second of those places there was a gen-
tleman (for whose veracity and intelligent turn we
have the greatest veneration) who observed it the
moment he got abroad ; but concluded that, as soon
as he came upon the hill above his house, where he
took his morning rides, he should be higher than
this meteor, which he imagined might have been
blown, like thistledown, from the common above;
but, to his great astonishment, when he rode to the
most elevated part of the down, 300 feet above his
fields, he found the webs in appearance still as much
above him as before ; still descending into sight in a
constant succession. and twinkling in the sun, so as
to draw the attention of the most incurious.

Neither before nor after was any such fall ob-

served ; but on this day the flakes hung in the trees
49

and hedges so thick, that a diligent person sent out
might have gathered baskets full.

The remark that I shall make on these cobweb-
like appearances, called gossamer, is, that, strange
and superstitious as the notions about them were for-
merly, nobody in these days doubts but that they
are the real production of small spiders, which
swarm in the fields in fine weather in autumn, and
have a power of shooting out webs from their tails
so as to render themselves buoyant, and lighter than
air. But why these apterous insects should that day
take such a wonderful aeJrial excursion, and why
their webs should at once become so gross and ma-
terial as to be considerably more weighty than air,
and to descend with precipitation, is a matter be-
yond my skill. If I might be allowed to haZard
a supposition, I should imagine that those filmy
threads, when first shot, might be entangled in the
rising dew, and so drawn up, spiders and all, by a
brisk evaporation, into the regions where clouds are
formed: and if the spiders have a power of coiling
and thickening their webs in the air, as Dr. Lister
says they have, then, when they were become heavier
than the air, they must fall.*

 

* One day when the air was full of such gossamers. Dr. Listers relates
that he mounted to the highest \part of York Cathedral and found the
gossamer webs still far above him.

“ Its sone some wonder at the cuuse of thunder,
On ebbe and flode, on gossamer and mist,
And on all things till that the cause is wist."—CHAUCER.

so

Every day in fine weather, in autumn chiefly, do
I see those spiders shooting out their webs and
mounting aloft: they will go off from your finger if
you will take them into your hand. Last summer
one alig'hted on my book as I was reading in the par-
lour; and, running to the top of the page, and shoot-
ing out a web, took its departure from thence. But
what I ;most wondered at was, that it went off with
considerable velocity in a place where no air was
stirring; and I am sure that I did not assist it with
my breath. So that these little crawlers seem to
have, while mounting, some locomotive power with-
Out the use of wings, and so move in the air faster
than the air itself.

SELBORNE,JQuu28,I775

LETTER LXVI.

To THE I—IONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

THERE is a wonderful spirit of sociality in the
brute creation, independent of sexual attachment.
Of this the congregation of gregarious birds in the
- winter is a remarkable instance.

Many horses, though quiet with company, will
not stay one minute in a field by themselves: the
strongest fences cannot restrain them. My neigh-

bour’s horse will not only not stay by himself abroad,
51

but he will not bear to be left alone in a strange
stable without discovering the utmost impatience,
and endeavouring to break the rack and manger with
his fore-feet. He has been known to leap out at
a stable-window, through which dung was thrown,
after company; and yet in other respects is remark-
ably quiet. Oxen and cows will not fatten by them-
selves: but will neglect the finest pasture that is not
recommended by society. It would be needless to
add instances in sheep, which constantly flock to-
gether.

But this propensity seems not to be confined to
animals of the same species; for we know a doe, still
alive, that was brought up from a little fawn with a
dairy of cows; with them it goes a-field, and with
them it returns to the yard. The dogs of the house
take no notice of this deer, being used to her; but,
if strange dogs come by, a chase ensues; while the
master smiles to see his favourite securely leading
her pursuers over hedge, or gate, or stile, till she
returns to the cows, who, with fierce lowings and
menacing horns, drive the assailants quite out of the
pasture.

Even great disparity of kind and size does not
always prevent social advances and mutual fellow-
ship. For a very intelligent and observant person
has assured me that, in the former part of his life,
keeping but one horse, he happened also on a time

to have but one solitary hen. These two incongru-
52

ous animals spent much of their time together in a
lonely orchard, where they saw no creature but each
other. By degrees an apparent regard began to
take place between these two sequestered individu-
als. The fowl would approach the quadruped with
notes of complacency, rubbing herself gently against
his legs: while the horse would look down with
satisfaction, and move with the greatest caution and
circumspection, lest he should trample on his diminu-
tive companion. Thus by mutual good offices, each
seemed to console the vacant hours of the other:
so that Milton, when he puts the following senti-
‘ment in the mouth of Adam, seems to be somewhat
mistaken 2——

“Much less can bird with beast, or fish with fowl,
So well converse, nor with the ox the ape."

SELBORNE,z4ag.15,I775

LETTER LXVII.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

WE have two gangs or hordes of gypsies which
infest the south and west of England, and come
round in their circuit two or three times in the year.
One of these tribes calls itself by the noble name of
Stanley, of which I have nothing particular to say;

but the other is distinguished by an appellative
53

somewhat remarkable—as far as their harsh gibber-
ish can be understood, they seem to say that the

 

 

(iv/”rim 1'71 fnml of “ 7711' [I'd/cm."

name of their clan is Curleople. Now the termina-
tion of this word is apparently Grecian: and as Me-
zeray and the gravest historians all agree that these
vagrants (lid certainly migrate from Egypt and the
East, two or three centuries ago, and so spread by
degrees over Europe. may not this family name, a
little corrupted, be the very name they brought
with them from the Levant? It would be matter

of some Curiosity. could one meet with an intelligent
54

person among them, to inquire whether, in their
jargon, they still retain any Greek words: the.
Greek radicals will appear in hand, foot, head,
water, earth, &c. It is possible that amidst their
cant and corrupted dialect many mutilated re-
mains of their native language might still be dis-
covered.

With regard to those peculiar people, the gyp-
sies, one thing is very remarkable, and especially as
they came from warmer climates; and that is, that
while other beggars lodge in barns, stables, and cow-
houses, these sturdy savages seem to pride them-
selves in braving the severities of winter, and in
living in the open air the whole year round. Last
September was as wet a month as ever was known;
and yet during those deluges' did a young gypsy-
girl lie-in in the midst of one of our hop-gardens, on
the cold ground, with nothing over her but a piece
of blanket extended on a few hazel-rods bent hoop-
fashion, and stuck into the earth at each end, in cir-
cumstances too trying for a cow in the same con-
dition: yet within this garden there was a large
hop-kiln, into the chambers of which she might have
retired had she thought shelter an object worthy
her attention.

Europe, itself, it seems, cannot set bounds to the
rovings of these vagabonds; for Mr. Bell, in his re-
turn from Pekin, met a gang of these people on

the confines of Tartary, who were endeavouring to
I 55

penetrate those deserts and try their fortune in
China.*

Gypsies are called in French, Bohemians; in
Italian and modern Greek, Zingari.

SELBORNE, Oct. 2, I775.

LETTER LXVIII.
To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

“Hic - - - - teedae pingues, hic plurimusignis
Semper, et assidua postes fuligine nigri.”
(VIRG. Ed. vii. 4g, 50.)
“ Here are fat torches, here abundant fire,
Here constant smoke has black’d each side the door.”

I SHALL make no apology for troubling you with
the detail of a very simple piece of domestic econ-
omy, being satisfied that you think noth-
ing beneath your attention that tends
to utility: the matter alluded to is the

use of rushes instead of candles,

 
 
   
    

which I am well aware prevails
in many districts besides this;
but as I know there are .countries
also where it does not obtain, and as
_ I have considered the subject with
A I‘m/I-lllg’fif- some degree of exactness, I shall pro-

* See Bell’s “ Travels in China.”
56

ceed with my humble story, and leave you to judge
of the expediency.

The proper species of rush for this purpose seems
to be the fzmcus conglomeratus, or common soft rush,
which is to be found in most moist pastures, by the
sides of streams, and under hedges. These rushes
are in best condition in the height of summer; but
may be gathered, so as to serve the purpose well,
quite on to autumn. It would beneedless to add
that the largest and longest are best. Decayed la-
bourers, women, and children, make it their business
to procure and prepare them. As soon as they are
cut they must be flung into the water, and kept
there; for otherwise they will dry and shrink, and
the peel will not run. At first a person would find
it no easy matter to divest a rush of its peel or
rind, so as to leave one regular, narrow, even rib
from top to bottom that may support the pith: but
this, like other feats, soon becomes familiar even to
children; and we have seen an old woman, stone-

blind, performing this business with great despatch,
' and seldom failing to strip them with the nicest reg-
ularity. When these fund are thus far prepared,
they must lie out on the grass to be bleached, and
take the dew for some nights, and afterwards be
‘ dried in the sun.

Some address is required in dipping these rushes
in the scalding fat or grease; but this knack also is

to be attained by practice. The careful wife of an
21 57

industrious Hampshire labourer obtains all her fat
for nothing; for she saves the scummings of her
bacon-pot for this use; and, if the grease abounds
. with salt, she causes the salt to precipitate to the
bottom, by setting the scummings in a warm oven.
Where hogs are not much in use, and especially by
the sea-side, the coarser animal oils will come very
cheap. A pound of common grease may be pro-
cured for fourpence ; and about six pounds of grease
will dip a pound of rushes; and one pound of rushes
may be bought for one shilling; so that a pound of
rushes, medicated and ready for use, will cost three
shillings. If men that keep bees will mix a little wax
with the grease, it will give it a consistency, and
render it more cleanly, and make the rushes burn
longer; mutton-suet will have the same effect.

A good rush, which measured in length two feet
four inches and a half, being minuted, burnt only
three minutes short of an hour: and a rush still of
greater length has been known to burn one hour and
a quarter.

These rushes give a good clear light. Watch-
lights (coated with tallow), it is true, shed a dismal
one, “ darkness visible ; ” but then the wicks of those
have two ribs of the rind, or peel, to support the
pith, while the wick of the dipped rush has but one.
The two ribs are intended to impede the progress
of the flame and make the candle last.

In a pound of dry rushes, avoirdupois, which I
58

caused to be weighed and numbered, we found up-
wards of one thousand six hundred individuals.
Now suppose each of these burns, one with another,
only half an hour, then a poor man will purchase
eight hundred hours of light, a time exceeding
thirty-three entire days, for three shillings. Accord-
ing to this account each rush, before dipping, costs
3.175 of a farthing, and TIT afterwards. Thus a poor
family will enjoy five and a half hours of comfort-
able light for a farthing. ~ An experienced old house-
keeper assures me that one pound and a half of
rushes completely supplies his family the year
round, since working people burn no candle in the
long days, because they rise and go to bed by day-
light.

Little farmers use rushes much, in the short days,
both morning and evening, in the dairy and kitchen;
but the very poor, who are always the worst econo-
mists, and therefore must continue very poor, buy
a halfpenny candle every evening, which, in their
blowing open rooms, does not burn much more than
two hours. Thus have they only two hours’ light
for their money instead of eleven.

While on the subject of rural economy, it may
not be improper to mention a pretty implement of
. housewifery that I have seen nowhere else; that is,
little neat besoms which our foresters make from
the stalk of the Poly/trz'cmiz commune, or great golden

maiden-hair, which they call silk-wood, and find
59

plenty in the bogs. When this moss is well combed
and dressed, and divested of its outer skin, it be-
comes of a beautiful bright chestnut colour; and,
being soft and pliant, is very proper for the dusting
of beds, curtains, carpets, hangings, &c. If these
besoms were known to the bru'shmakers in town, it
is probable they might come much more into use

for the purpose above mentioned.*

SELBORNE, Nov. 1, I776.

LETTER LXIX.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

WE had in this village more than twenty years
ago an idiot bo 7, whom I well remember, who, from
a child, showed a strong propensity to bees; they
were his food, his amusement, his sole object. And
as people of this cast have seldom more than one
point in view, so this'lad exerted all his few facul-
ties on this one pursuit. In the winter he dozed
away his time, within his father’s house, by the fire-
side, in a kind of torpid state, seldom departing from
the chimney-corner; but in the summer he was all
alert, and in quest of his game in the fields, and on
sunny banks. Honey-bees, humble-bees, and wasps,

 

* A besom of this sort is to be seen in Sir Ashton Lever’s Museum.
60

were his prey wherever he found them: he had
no apprehensions from their stings, but he would

 

Catt/ling éees.

seize them nua’z's mam’bus, and at once disarm them
of their weapons, and suck their bodies for the sake
of their honey-bags. Sometimes he would fill his
bosom between his shirt and his skin with a number of
these captives; and sometimes would confine them in
bottles. He was a very Merops apz'asz‘er, or bee-bird ;
and very injurious to men that kept bees: for he
would slide into their bee-gardens, and, sitting down
before the stools, would rap with his finger on the

hives, and so take the bees as they came out. He
61

has been known to overturn hives for the sake of
honey, of which he was passionately fond. Where
metheglin was. making he would linger round the
tubs and vessels, begging a draught of what he
called bee-wine. As he ran about he used to make a
humming noise with his lips, resembling the buzzing
of bees. This lad was lean and sallow, and of a
cadaverous complexion; and, except in his favourite
pursuit, in which he was wonderfully adroit, dis-
covered no manner of understanding. Had his ca-
pacity been better, and directed to the same object,
he had perhaps abated much of our wonder at the
feats of a more modern exhibiter of bees; and we
may justly say of him now,—— ’

“— — — — — —— — —Thou,

IIad thy presiding star propitious shone,

Shouldst IVi/a’man be —- —- — —.

\Vhen a tall youth he was removed from hence
to a distant village, where he died, as I understand,
before he arrived at manhood.

SELBORNE, Dec. 12, I775.

LETTER LXX.

To THE HoNoURAnm; l_).~\INES BARRING'I‘ON.

IT is the hardest thing in the world to shake off

superstitious prejudices; they are sucked in, as it
62

were, with our mother’s milk; and, growing up with
us at a time when they take the fastest hold and
make the most lasting impressions, become so inter-
woven into our very constitutions, that the strongest
good sense is required to disengage ourselves from
them. No wonder, therefore, that the lower people
retain them their whole lives through, since their
minds are not invigorated by a liberal education, and
therefore not enabled to make any efforts adequate
to the occasion.

Such a preamble seems to be necessary before
we enter on the superstitions of this district, lest
we should be suspected of exaggeration in a recital
of practices too gross for this enlightened age.

But the people of Tring, in Hertfordshire, would
do well to remember, that no longer ago than the
year 1751, and within twenty miles of the capital,
they seized on two superannuated wretches, crazed
with age, and overwhelmed with infirmities, on a
suspicion of witchcraft ; and, by trying experiments,
drowned them in a horse-pond.

In a farm-yard near the middle of this village
stands, at this day, a row of pollard-ashes, which, by
the seams and long cicatrices down their sides,
manifestly show that, in former times, they have
.been cleft asunder. These trees, when young and
‘ flexible, were severed and held open by wedges,
while ruptured children, stripped naked, were

pushed through the apertures, under a persuasion
63

that, by such a process, the poor babes would be
cured of their infirmity. As soon as the operation
was over, the tree, in the suffering part, was plas-
tered with loam, and carefully swathed up. If the
parts coalesced and soldered together, as usually
fell out where the feat was performed with any
adroitness at all, the party was cured; but where
the cleft continued to gape, the operation, it was
supposed, would prove ineffectual. Having occa-
sion' to enlarge my garden not long since, 1 cut
down two or three such trees, one of which did not
grow together.

We have several persons now living in the Vil-
lage, who, in their childhood, were supposed to be
healed by this superstitious ceremony, derived down
perhaps from our Saxon ancestors, who practised it
before their conversion to Christianity.

At the south corner of the Plestor, or area, near
the church, there stood, about twenty years ago, a
very old grotesque hollow pollard-ash, which for
ages had been looked on with no small veneration
as a shrew-ash. Now a shrew-ash is an ash whose
twigs or branches, when gently applied to the limbs
of cattle, will immediately relieve the pains which a
beast suffers from the running of a shrew-mouse over
the part affected; for it is supposed that a shrew-
mouse is of so baneful and deleterious a nature, that
wherever it creeps over a beast, be it horse, cow, or

sheep, the suffering animal is afflicted with cruel
64 ‘

anguish, and threatened with the loss of the use of
the limb. Against this accident, to which they are
continually liable, our provident forefathers always
kept a shrew-ash at hand, which, when once medi-
cated, would maintain its virtue forever. A shrew-
ash was‘made thus:*-——lnto the body of the tree a
deep hole was bored with an auger, and a poor de-
voted shrew-mouse was thrust in alive, and plugged
in, no doubt, with several quaint incantations long
since forgotten. As the ceremonies necessary for
such a consecration are no longer understood, all
succession is at an end, and no such tree is known
to subsist in the manor, or hundred.
As to that on the Plestor, for

“The late vicar stubb’d and burnt it,”

when he was way-warden, regardless of the remon-
strances of the bystanders, who interceded in vain
for its preservation, urging its power and efficacy,
and alleging that it had been “guarded through

7

many years by the piety of our ancestors ;’

“ Religione patrum multos servata per annes.”

SELBORNE, fan. 8, I776.

 

* For a similar practice, White refers us to Plot’s “ Staffordshire.”

 

LETTER LXXI.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

IN heavy fogs, on elevated situations especially,
trees are perfect alembics: and no one that has not
attended to such matters can imagine how much
water one tree will distil in a night’s time, by con-
densing the vapour which trickles down the twigs
and boughs, so as to make the ground below quite
in a float. In Newton-lane, in October, 1775,01] a
misty day, a particular oak in leaf dropped so fast
that the cartway stood in puddles and the ruts ran
with water, though the ground in general was dusty.

In some of our smaller islands in the West Indies,
if I mistake not, there are no springs or rivers ; but
the people are supplied with that necessary element,
water, merely by the dripping of some large tall
trees, which, standing in the bosom of a mountain,
keep their heads constantly enveloped with fogs and
clouds, from which they dispense their kindly, never-
ceasing moisture; and so render those districts hab-
itable by condensation alone.

Trees in leaf have such a vast proportion more of
surface than those that are naked, that, in theory,
their condensations should greatly exceed those that
are stripped of their leaves; but, as the former im-
bibe also a great quantity of moisture, it is difficult

to say which drip most: but this I know, that de-
66

ciduous trees that are entwined with much ivy
seem to distil the greatest quantity. Ivy leaves are
smooth, and thick, and cold. and therefore condense
very fast; and besides, evergreens imbibe very little.
These facts may furnish the intelligent with hints
concerning what sorts of trees they should plant
round small ponds that they would wish to be per-
ennial; and show them how advantageous some
trees are in preference to others.

Trees perspire profusely, condense largely, and
check evaporation so much, that woods are always
moist: no wonder therefore that they contribute
much to pools and streams.

That trees are great promoters of lakes and
rivers appears from a well known fact in North
America; for, since the woods and forests have
been grubbed and cleared, all bodies of water are
much diminished; so that some streams, that were
very considerable a century ago, will not now drive
a common mill.* Besides, most woodlands, forests,
and chases, with us abound with pools and mo-
rasses; no doubt for the reason given above.

To a thinking mind few phenomena are more
strange than the state of little ponds on the sum-
mits of chalk-hills, many of which are never dry in
the most trying droughts of summer. On chalk-
hills, I say, because in many rocky and gravelly soils

 

* Vz'a’e-Kalm’s “ Travels in North America."
67

pm“... -m-

springs usually break out pretty high on the sides
of elevated grounds and mountains; but no person
acquainted with chalky districts will allow that they
ever saw springs in- such a soil, but only in valleys
and bottoms, since the waters of so pervious a
‘stratum as chalk all lie on one dead level, as well-
diggers have assured me again and again.

Now we have many such little round ponds in
this district; and one in particular on our sheep-
down, three hundred feet above my house; which,
though never above three feet deep in the middle,
and not more than thirty feet in diameter, and con-
taining perhaps not more than two or three hundred
hogsheads of water, yet never is it known to fail,
though it affords drink for three hundred or four
hundred sheep, and for at least twenty head of large
cattle beside. This pond, it is true, is overhung
with two moderate-sized beeches, that doubtless at
times afford it much supply; but then we have
others as small, that, without the aid of trees, and in
spite of evaporation from sun and wind, and per-
petual consumption by cattle, yet constantly main-
tain a moderate share of water, without overflowing
in the wettest seasons, as they would do if supplied
by springs. By my journal of May, 1775, it appears
that “the small and even considerable ponds in the
vales are now dried up, while the small ponds on the
very tops of hills are but little affected.” Can this

difference be accounted for from evaporation alone,
()8

.\\,:\ .E.E.\\;.4 :z ESQ T.

 

 

which certainly is more prevalent in bottoms? or
rather, have not those elevated pools some unnoticed
recruits, which in the night time counterbalance the
waste of the day, without which the cattle alone
must soon exhaust them? And here it will be neces-
sary to enter more minutely into the cause. Dr.
Hales, in his Vegetable Statics, advances, from ex-
periment, that “the moister the earth is the more
dew falls on it in a night: and more than a double
quantity of dew falls on a surface of water than there
does on an equal surface of moist earth.” Hence we
'see that water, by its coolness, is enabled to assimi-
late to itself a large quantity of moisture nightly by
condensation; and that the air, when loaded with
fogs and vapours, and even with copious dews, can
alone advance a considerable and never-failing re-
source. Persons that are much abroad, and travel
early and late, such as shepherds, fishermen, &c., can
tell what prodigious fogs prevail in the night on
elevated downs, even in the hottest parts of summer;
and how much the surfaces of things are drenched
by those swimming vapours, though, to the senses,
all the while, little moisture seems to fall.

SELBORNE, Feb. 7, 1776.

69

LETTER LXXII.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

MONSIEUR HERISSANT, a French anatomist, seems
persuaded that he has discovered the reason why
cuckoos dolnot hatch their own eggs; the impedi-
ment, he supposes, arises from the internal structure
of their parts, which incapacitates them for incuba-
tion. According to this gentleman, the crop or craw
of a cuckoo does not lie before the sternum at the
bottom of the neck, as in the poultry, gal/lime, and
pigeons, colzmzbae, &c., but immediately behind it, on
and over the bowels, so as to make a large protuber-
ance in the belly.*

Induced by this assertion, we procured a cuckoo;
and, cutting open the breast bone, and exposing the
intestines to sight, found the crop lying as men-
tioned above. This stomach was large and round,
and stuffed hard like a pincushion with food, which,
upon nice examination, we found to consistof various
insects; such as small scarabs, spiders, and dragon-
flies; the last of which we have seen cuckoos catch-
ing on the wing as they were just emerging out of
the aurelia state. Among this farrago also were to
be seen maggots, and many seeds, which belonged
either to gooseberries, currants, cranberries, or some

 

* Histoire de l'Académie Royale, I752.
70

such fruit; so that these birds apparently subsist on
insects and fruits: nor was there the least appear-
ance of bones, feathers, or fur to support the idle
notion of their being birds of prey.

The sternum in this bird seemed to us to be re—
markably short, between which and the anus lay the
crop, or craw, and immediately behind that the bow-
els against the back-bone.

It must be allowed, as this anatomist observes,
that the crOp placed just upon the bowels must,
especially when full, be in a very uneasy situation
during the business of incubation; yet the test will
be to examine whether birds that are actually known
to sit for certain are not formed in a similar man-
ner. This inquiry I proposed to myself to make with
a fern-owl, or goat-sucker, as soon as opportunity
offered: because, if their formation proves the same,
the ‘reason for incapacity in the cuckoo will be
allowed to have been taken up somewhat hastily.

Not long after a fern-owl was procured, which,
from its habit and shape, we suspected might resem-
ble the cuckoo in its internal construction. Nor
were our suspicions ingrounded; for upon dissec-
tion, the crop, or craw, also lay behind the sternum,
immediately on the viscera, between them and the
Skin of the belly. It was bulky, and stuffed hard
with large p/zalamw, moths of several sorts, and their
eggs, which no doubt had been forced out of those

insects by the action of swallowing.
22 ' 71

Now as it appears that this bird, which is so well
known to practise incubation, is formed in a similar
manner with cuckoos, Monsieur Herissant’s conjec-
ture, that cuckoos are incapable of incubation from
the disposition of their intestines, seems to fall to
the ground: and we are still at a loss for the cause
of that strange and singular peculiarity in the in-
stance of the Cucztlus cmzoms.

We found the case to be the same with the ring-
tail hawk, in respect to formation; and, as far as I
can recollect, with the swift; and probably it is so
with many more sorts of birds that are not graniv-

OTOUS.

SELBORNE, April 1, I776.

LETTER LXXIII.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON. '

ON August the 4th, 1775, we surprised a large
viper, which seemed very heavy and bloated, as it'
lay in the grass basking in the sun. When we came
to cut it up, we found that the abdomen was crowded
with young, fifteen in number; the shortest of which
measured full seven inches, and were about the size
of full-grown earthworms. This little fry issued into
the world with the true viper spirit about them,

showing great alertness as soon as disengaged from
72

the belly of the dam: they twisted and wriggled‘
about, and set themselves up, and gaped very wide
when touched with a stick, showing manifest tokens
of menace and defiance, though as yet they had no
manner of fangs that we could find, even with the
help of our glasses.

To a thinking mind nothing is more wonderful
than that early instinct which impresses young ani-
mals with the notion of the situation of their natural
weapons, and of using them properly in their own
defence, even before those weapons subsist or are
formed. Thus a young cock will spar at his adver-
sary before his spurs are grown; and a calf or a
lamb will push with their heads before their horns
are sprouted. In the same manner did these young
adders attempt to bite before their fangs were in
being. The dam, however, was furnished with very
formidable ones, which we lifted up (for they fold
down when not used), and cut them off with the
point of our scissors.

There was little room to suppose that this brood
had ever been in the open air before; and that they
'Were taken in for refuge, at the mouth of the dam,
when she perceived that danger was approaching;
because then probably we should have found them
somewhere in the neck, and not in the abdomen.

SELBORNE, April 29, I776.

73

LETTER LXXIV.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

CASTRATION has a strange effect; it emasculates
both man, beast, and bird, and brings them to a near -
reSemblance of the other sex. Thus eunuchs have
smooth, unmuscular arms, thighs, and legs; and
broad lips, and beardless chins, and squeaking voices.
Gelt stags and bucks have hornless heads, like hinds
and does. Thus wethers have small horns, like ewes;
and oxen large bent horns, and hoarse voices when
they low, like cows: for bulls have short straight
horns; and though they mutter and grumble in a
deep tremendous tone, yet they low in a shrill high
key. Capons have small combs and gills, and look
pallid about the head, like pullets; they also walk
without any parade, and hover over chickens like
hens.* Barrow-hogs have also small tusks like sows.

Thus far it is plain that the deprivation of mascu-
line vigour puts a stop to the growth of those parts
or appendages that are looked upon as its insignia.
But the ingenious Mr. Lisle, in his book on hus-
bandry, carries it much farther; for he says that the
loss of those insignia alone has sometimes a strange
effect on the ability itself; he had a boar so fierce

 

* Réaumur, Mr. Rennie tells us, trained capons to nurse the chickens
he hatched by artificial heat. They clucked like hens and proved good

nurses.

74

and venereous, that to prevent mischief, orders were
given for his tusks to be broken off. No sooner had
the beast suffered this injury than his powers forsook
him, and he neglected those females to. whom before
he was passionately attached, and from whom no

fences could restrain him.

LETTER LXXV.

To THE HONOU‘RABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

THE natural term of a hog’s life is little known,
and the reason is plain—because it is neither profit-
able nor convenient to keep that turbulent animal
to the full extent of Its time: however, my neigh-
bour, a man of substance, who had no occasion to
study every little advantage to a nicety, kept a half—
bred Bantam sow, who was as thick as she was long,
and whose belly swept on the ground, till she was
advanced to her seventeenth year, at which period
she showed some tokens of age by the decay of her
~ teeth and the decline of her fertility.

For about ten years this prolific mother produced
two litters in the year of about ten at a time, and
once above twenty at a litter; but as there were
near double the number of pigs to that of teats,
many died. From long experience in the world this

female was grown very sagacious and artful ;——-when
75

she found occasion to converse with a boar she used
to open all the intervening gates, and march, by her-
self, up to a distant farm where one was kept; and
when her purpose was served would return by the
same means. At the age of about fifteen her litters
began to be reduced to four or five; and such a litter
she exhibited when in her fatting-pen. She proved,
when fat, good bacon, juicy, and tender; the rind, or
sward, was remarkably thin. At a moderate com-
putation she was allowed to have been the fruitful
parent of three hundred pigs ; a prodigious instance
of fecundity in so large a quadruped ! She was
killed in spring 1775.

LETTER LXXVI.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

“— ——- — — — —admorunt ubera tigres."
“ By tigers suckled."

WE have remarked in a former letter how much
incongruous animals, in a lonely state, may be at-
tached to each other from a spirit of sociality; in
this it may not be amiss to recount a different mo—
tive which has been known to create as strange a
fondness.

My friend had a little helpless leveret brought to

him, which the servants fed with milk in a spoon,
76

and about the same time his cat kittened and the
young were despatched and buried. The hare was
soon lost, and supposed to be gone the way of most
fondlings, to be killed by some dog or cat. How-
ever, in about a fortnight, as the master was sitting
in his garden in the dusk of the evening, he observed
his cat, with tail erect, trotting towards him, and
calling with little short in ward notes of complacency,
.such as they use towards their kittens, and some-
thing gamboling after, which proved to be the lev-
eret that the cat had supported with her milk, and
continued to support with great affection.

Thus was a graminivorous animal nurtured by a
carnivorous and predaceous one !

Why so cruel and sanguinary a beast as a cat, of
the ferocious genus of Fe/e's, the Maria”: [(20, as Lin-
naeus calls it, should be affected with any tenderness
towards an animal which is its natural prey, is not so
easy to determine. '

This strange affection probably was occasioned
by that desiderium, those tender maternal feelings,
which the loss of her kittens had awakened in her
breast; and by the complacency and ease she de-
rived to herself from the procuring her teats to be
drawn, which were too much distended with milk,
till, from habit, she became as much delighted with
this fondling as if it had been her real offspring.

This incident is no bad solution of that strange

circumstance which grave historians as well as the
77

poets assert, of exposed children being sometimes
nurtured by female wild beasts that probably had
lost their young. For it is not one whit more mar-
vellous that Romulus and Remus, in their infant
state, should be nursed by a she-wolf, than that a
poor little suckling leveret should be fostered'and
cherished by a bloody grimalkin.

— — — — viridi foetam Mavortis in antro
Procubuisse lupam: geminos huic ubera circum
Ludere pendentes pueros, et lambere matrem
Impavidos ; illam tereti cervice reflexam
Mulcere alternos, et corpora fingere lingua,”
(VIRG. En. viii. 630—634.)

Or, as Christopher Pitt renders the Roman poet :—

“ Here in a verdant cave’s embowering shade,
The fostering wolf and martial twins were laid ;
The indulgent mother, half reclined along,
Look'd fondly back, and formed them with her tongue."

[Again a boy has taken three little squirrels in
their nest, or drey, as it is'called in these parts.
These small creatures he put under the care of a cat
who had lately lost her kittens, and finds that she
nurses and suckles them with the same assiduity and
affection as if they were her own offspring.

So many people went to see the little squirrels
suckled by a cat, that the foster-mother became jeal-
ous of her charge, and in pain for their safety ; and
therefore hid them over the ceiling, where one died.

This circumstance shows her affection for these fond-
78

lings, and that She supposes the squirrels to be her
own young. Thus hens, when they have hatched
ducklings, are equally attached to them, as if they
were their own chickens.]—OBSERVATIONS ON NA-
TURE.

SELBORNE. May 9, I776.

LETTER LXXVII.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

LANDS that are subject to frequent inundations
are always poor; and probably the reason may be

because the worms are drowned. The most insig—

nificant insects and reptiles are of much more conse-

quence, and have much more influence in the econ-

omy of Nature, than the incurious are aware of; and
are mighty in their effect, from their minuteness,
which renders them less an object of attention ; and
from their numbers and fecundity. Earthworms,
though in appearance a small and despicable link
in~ the chain of Nature, yet, if lost, would make a
lamentable chasm. For, to say nothing of half the
birds, and some quadrupeds which are almost en-’
tirelysupported by them, worms seem to be great
promoters of vegetation, which would proceed but
lamely without them; by boring, perforating, and

loosening the soil, and rendering it pervious to rains
79

and the fibres of plants; by drawing straws and
stalks of leaves and twigs into it; and, most of all, by
throwing up such infinite numbers of lumps of earth
called worm-casts, which, being their excrement, is a
fine manure for grain and grass. Worms probably
provide new soil for hills, and slopes, where the rain
washes the earth away; and they affect slopes, prob-
ably to avoid being flooded. Gardeners and farmers
express their detestation of worms; the former be-
cause they render their walks unsightly, and make
them much work: and the latter, because, as they
think, worms eat their green corn. But these men
would find that the earth without worms would soon
become cold, hard-bound, and void of fermentation;
and consequently sterile: and besides, in favour of
worms, it should be hinted that green corn, plants,
and flowers are not so much injured by them as by
many species of cole’optcm (scarabs) and lzpulw (long-
legs) in their larva, or grub-state ; and by unnoticed
myriads of small shell-less snails, called slugs, which
silently and imperceptibly make amazing havoc in
the field and garden.

Farmer Young, of Norton farm, says that this
spring (I 777) about four acres of his wheat in one field
was entirely destroyed by slugs, which swarmed on
the blades of corn, and devoured it as it sprang.

These hints we think proper to throw out in
order to set the inquisitive and discerning to work.

A good monography of worms would afford
80

 

J‘ gafll’z’fl.

A 7011112 in [/13 :Iinzr

 

much entertainment and information at the same
time, and would open a large and new field in
natural history. Worms work most in the spring;
but by no means lie torpid in the dead months;
they are out every mild night in the winter, as any
person may satisfy himself. They are hermaphro-
dites, and are, consequently, very prolific.

SELBORNE, May 20, I777.

LETTER L‘XXVIII.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

YOU cannot but remember that the 26th and 27th
of last March were very hot days; so sultry that
everybody complained, and were restless under
those sensations to which they had not been recon-
ciled by gradual approaches.

This sudden summer—like heat was attended by
many summer coincidences; for on those two days
the thermometer rose to sixty-six in the shade;
many species of insects revived and came forth;
some bees swarmed in this neighbourhood; the old
tortoise, near Lewes in Sussex, awakened and came
forth out of its dormitory; and, what is most to
my present purpose, many house-swallows appeared,
and were very alert in many places, and particularly

at Cobham, in Surrey.
81

But as that short warm period was succeeded as
well as preceded by harsh severe weather, with
frequent frosts and ice, and cutting winds, the in-
sects withdrew, the tortoise returned again into the
ground, and the swallows were seen no more. until
the 10th of April, when the rigour of the spring
abating, a softer season began to prevail.

Again, it appears by my journals for many years
past, that house-martins retire, to a bird, about the
beginning of October ; so that a person very observ-
ant of such matters would conclude that they had
taken their last farewell: but then, it may be seen in
my diaries also that considerable flocks have dis-
covered themselves again in the first week of No:
vember, and often on the fourth day of that month
only for one day; and that not as if they were in
actual migration, but playing about at their leisure
and feeding calmly, as if no enterprise of moment at
all agitated their spirits. And this was the case in
the beginning of this very month; for, on the 4th of
November, more than twenty house-martins, which,
in appearance, had all departed about the 7th of
October, were seen again, for that one morning only,
sporting between my fields and the Hanger, and
feasting on insects which swarmed in that sheltered
district. The preceding day was wet and bluster-
ing, but the 4th was dark and mild, and soft, the
wind at south-west, and the thermometer at 58%; a

pitch not common at that season of the year. More-
82

over, it may not be amiss to add in this place, that
whenever the thermometer is above 50° the bat
comes flitting out in every autumnal and winter
month.

From all these circumstances laid together, it is
obvious that torpid insects, reptiles, and quadru-
peds, are awakened from their profoundest slum-
bers by a little untimely warmth; and therefore
that nothing so much promotes this death-like stu-
por as a defect of heat. And farther, it is reason—
able to suppose that two whole species, or at least
many individuals of those two species, of British
fiz’rundz'nes, do never leave this island at all, but par—
take of the same benumbed state: for we cannot
suppose that, after a month’s absence, house-martins
can return from southern regions to appear for
one morning in November, or that house-swallows
should leave the districts of Africa to enjoy in
March the transient summer of a couple of days.

SELBORNE, Nov. 22, I777.

LETTER LXXIX.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

THERE was in this village several years ago a
miserable pauper, who, from his birth, was afflicted

with a leprosy, as far as we are aware, of a singular
83

kind; since it affected only the palms of his hands
and the soles of his feet. This scaly eruption usually
broke out twice in the year, at the spring and fall;
and, by peeling away, left the skin so thin and ten—
der that neither his hands nor feet were able to per-
form their functions; so that the poor object was
half his time on crutches, incapable of employ, and
languishing in a tiresome state of indolence and in-
activity. His habit was lean, lank, and cadaverous.
In this sad plight he dragged on a miserable exist-
ence, a burden to himself and his parish, which was
obliged to support him till he ‘was relieved by death
at more than thirty years of age.

The good women, who love to account for every
defect in children by the doctrine of longing. said
that his mother felt a violent propensity for oysters,
which she was unable to gratify; and that the black
rough scurf on his hands and feet were the shells of
that fish. I knew his parents, neither of whom were
lepers; his father in particular lived to be far ad-
vanced in years.

In all ages, the leprosy has made dreadful havoc
among mankind. The Israelites seem to have been
greatly afflicted with it from the most remote times;
as appears from the peculiar and repeated injunc-
tions given them in the Levitical law.* Nor was the
rancour of this foul disorder much abated in the last

 

* See Leviticus xiii. and xiv.
84

period of their commonwealth, as may be seen in
many passages of the New Testament.

Some centuries ago this horrible distemper pre-
vailed all Europe over; and our forefathers were by
no means exempt, as appears by the large provisions
made for objects labouring under this calamity.
There was a hospital for female lepers in the dio-
cese of Lincoln, a noble one near Durham, three in
London and Southwark, and perhaps many more in
or near our great towns and cities. Moreover, some
crowned heads, and other wealthy and charitable
personages, bequeathed large legacies to such poor
people as languished under this hopeless infirmity.

It must therefore, in these days, be, to a humane
and thinking person, a matter of equal wonder and
satisfaction, when he contemplates how nearly this
pest is eradicated, and observes that a leper now is
a rare sight. He will, moreover, when engaged in
such a train of thought, naturally inquire for the
reason. This happy change perhaps may have origi-
nated and been continued from the much smaller
quantity of salted meat and fish now eaten in these
kingdoms; from the use of linen next the skin; from
the plenty of better bread; and from the profusion
of fruits, roots, legumes, and greens, so common now
in every family. Three or four centuries ago, before
there were any inclosures, sown-grasses, field-turnips,
or field-carrots, or hay, all the cattle which had

grown fat in summer, and were not killed for winter
23 85

use, were turned out soon after Michaelmas to shift
as they could through the dead months; so that no
fresh meat could be had in winter or spring. Hence
the marvellous account of the vast stores of salted
flesh found in the larder of the eldest Spencer, viz.
six hundred bacons, eighty carcases of beef, and six
hundred muttons, in the days of Edward the Second,
even so late in the spring as the 3rd of May. It was
from magazines like these that the turbulent barons
supported in idleness their riotous swarms of retain-
ers ready for any disorder or mischief. But agri-
culture is now arrived at such a pitch of perfection,
that our best and fattest meats are killed in the win-
ter; and no man need eat salted flesh, unless he pre-
fers it.

One cause of this distemper might be, no doubt,
the quantity of wretched fresh and salt fish con-
sumed by the commonalty at all seasons as well as in
Lent; which our poor now would hardly be per-
suaded to touch.

The use of linen changes, shirts or shifts, in the
room of sordid and filthy woollen, long worn next
the skin, is a matter of neatness comparatively mod-
em; but must prove a great means of preventing
cutaneous ails. At this very time woollen instead of
linen prevails among the poorer Welsh, who are sub-
ject to foul eruptions.

The plenty of good Wheaten bread that now is

found among all ranks of people in the south, instead
86

of that miserable sort which used in old days to be
made of barley or beans, may contribute not a little
to the sweetening their blood and correcting their
juices; for the inhabitants of mountainous districts,
to this day, are still liable to the itch and other cuta-
neous disOrders, from poverty of diet.

As to the produce of a garden, every middle-aged
person of observation may perceive, within his own
memory, both in town and country, how vastly the
consumption of vegetables is increased. Green-stalls
in cities now support multitudes in a comfortable
state, whilst gardeners get fortunes. Every decent
labourer has his garden, which is half his support, as
well as his delight; and common farmers provide
plenty of beans, peas, and greens, for their binds to
eat with their bacon; and those few that do not are
despised for their sordid parsimony, and looked
upon as regardless of the welfare of their depend-
ants. Potatoes have prevailed in this little district,
by means of premiums, within these twenty years
only ; and are much esteemed here now by the poor,
who would scarce have ventured to taste them in
the last reign.

Our Saxon ancestors certainly had some sort of
cabbage, because they call the month of February
-sprOut-cale;* but, long after their days, the cultiva-

 

* March was the stormy month with our Saxon ancestors; May,
Thromilchi, the cows being then milked three times a-day; June, dig
and weed month ; September, barley month.—MITFORD.

87

tion of gardens was little attended to. The religious,
being men of leisure, and keeping up a constant cor-
respondence with Italy, were the first people among
us that had gardens and fruit-trees in any perfection,
within the walls of their abbeys, priories, and monas-
teries, where the lamp of knowledge continued to
burn, however dimly. In them men of business were
formed for the state; the art of writing was culti-
vated by the monks; they were the only proficients in
mechanics, gardening, and architecture.* The bar-
ons neglected every pursuit that did not lead to war.
or tend to the pleasure of the chase.

It was not till gentlemen took up the study of
horticulture themselves that the knowledge of gar-
dening made such hasty advances. Lord Cobham,
Lord Ila, and Mr. \Valler of Beaconsfield, were some
of the first people of rank that promoted the elegant
science of ornamenting without despising the super-
intendence of the kitchen quarters and fruit walls.

A remark made by the excellent Mr. Ray in his
Tour of Europe at once surprises us, and corrobo-
rates what has been advanced above; for we find
him observing, so late as his days, that “the Italians
use several herbs for sallets, which are not yet or
have not been but lately used in England, viz. se/Zcrz‘
(celery), which is nothing else but the sweet small-

age; the young shoots whereof, with a little of the

* Dalrymple's “ Annals of Scotland.”
88

head of the root cut off, they eat raw with oil and
pepper.” And farther he adds, “curled endive
blanched is much used beyond seas; and, for a raw
sallet, seemed to excel lettuce itself.” Now this
journey was undertaken no longer ago than in the
year 1663.

SELBORNE, fan. 8, I778.

LETTER LXXX.
To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

“ Forte puer, comitum seductus ab agmine fido,
Dixerat, Ecquis adest? et, Adest, responderat Echo.
Hic stupet ; utque aciem partes divisit in omnes ;
Voce, Veni, clamat magma. Vocat illa vocantem.”
(OVID, M'et. iii. 379.)

“The youth being separated by chance from his faithful attendants,
calls aloud, ‘ Is there any one here?’ and echo answers, ‘ Here.’ He is
amazed, he casts his eyes on every side and calls with a loud voice,
‘ Come !’ whereupon echo calls the youth who calls.”

“She can’t begin, but waits for the rebound,
To catch his voice and then return the sound.”
(DRYDEN.)

IN a district so diversified as this, so full of hol-
low Vales and hanging woods, it is no wonder that
'echoes should abound. Many we have discovered
that return the cry of a pack of dogs, the notes of a

hunting—horn, a tunable ring of bells, or the melody
89

of birds, very agreeably : but we were still at a loss
for a polysyllabical, articulate echo, till-a young gen-
tleman, who had parted from his company in a sum-
mer evening walk, and was calling after them, stum-
bled upon a very curious one in a spot where it
might least be expected. At first he was much sur-
prised, and could not be persuaded but that he was
mocked by some boy; but, repeating his trials in
several languages, and finding his respondent to be.
a very adroit polyglot, he then discerned the de-
ception.

This echo in an evening, before rural noises
cease, would repeat ten syllables most articulately
and distinctly, especially if quick dactyls were chosen.
The last syllables of

“ Tityre, tu patulae recubans — — — — ”*

were as audibly and intelligibly returned as the first;
and there is no doubt, could trial have been made,
but that at midnight, when the air is very elastic,
and a dead stillness prevails, one or two syllables
more might have been obtained; but the distance
rendered so late an experiment very inconven-
ient.

Quick dactyls, we observed, succeeded best; for
when we came to try its powers in slow, heavy,

 

* “ Beneath the shade which beechen boughs difiuse
You, Tityrus, entertain your sylvan muse.”
(DRYDEN’S Virg. Eel. i. I.)
90

embarrassed spondees. of the same number of sylla-
bles,

“ Monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens — — ”*

we could perceive a return but of four or five.

All echoes have some one place to which they are
returned stronger and more distinct than to any
other; and that is always the place that lies at right
angles with the object of repercussion, and is not too
near, nor too far off. Buildings, or naked rocks, re-
echo much more articulately than hanging wood or
vales; because in the latter the voice is as it were
entangled, and embarrassed in the covert, and weak-
ened in the rebound.

The true source of this echo, as we found by
various experiments, is the stone-built, tiled hop-kiln
in Gally-lane, which measures in front 40 feet, and
from the ground to the eaves 12 feet. The true
cmz‘mm p/zom'cum, or just distance, is one particular
spot in the King’s-field, in the path to Nore-hill, on
the very brink of the steep balk above the hollow
cart-way. In this case there is no choice of distance; .
but the path, by mere contingency, happens to be
the lucky, the identical spot, because the ground
rises or falls so immediately, if the speaker either
retires or advances, that his mouth would at once
be above or below the object.

 

* “A monster grim, tremendous, vast and high.”
(DRYDEN’S Vz'rg. En. iii. 658.)

()1

We measured this polysyllabical echo with great
exactness. and found the distance to fall very short

 

An (’lt/ lin/Ll’i/n.

of Dr. Plot’s rule for distinct articulation: for the
Doctor. in his history of Oxfordshire. allows 120 feet
for the return of each syllable distinctly: hence this
echo, which gives ten distinct syllables. ought to
measure 400 yards. or 120 feet to each syllable: where-
as our distance is only 258 yards. or near 75 feet to
each syllable. Thus our measure falls short of the

Doctor‘s, as five to eight: but then it must be acknowl-
9’2

edged that this candid philosopher was convinced
afterwards, that some latitude must be admitted of
in the distance of echoes according to time and place.

When experiments of this sort are making, it
should always be remembered that weather and the
time of day have a vast influence on an echo; for a
dull, heavy, moist air deadens and clogs the sound:
and hot sunshine renders the air thin and weak, and
deprives it of all its springiness; and a ruffling wind
quite defeats the whole. In a still, clear, dewy even-
ing the air is most elastic; and perhaps the later the
hour the more so. Echo has always been so amusing
to the imagination, that the poets have personified
her; and in their hands shehas been the occasion of '
many a beautiful fiction. Nor need the gravest man
be ashamed to appear taken with such a phenome—
non, since it may become the subject of philosophical
or mathematical inquiries.

One should have imagined that echoes, if not
entertaining, must at least have been harmless and
inoffensive; yet Virgil advances a strange notion, that
they are injurious to bees. After enumerating some
probable and reasonable annoyances, such as pru-
dent owners would wish far removed from their bee-
gardens, he adds

“— — — — — — aut ubi concava pulsu
Saxa sonant, vocisque offensa resultat imago.” *

 

* “ Nor place them where too deep a water flows,
Or where the‘yew, their poisonous neighbour, grows ;

93

There is a natural occurrence to be met with
upon the highest part of our downs in hot summer
days, which always amuses me much, without giving
me any satisfaction with respect to the cause of it;
and that is a loud audible humming as of bees in
the air, though not one insect is to be seen. This
sound is to be heard distinctly the whole common
through, from the Moneydells, to my avenue gate.

Any person would suppose that a large swarm
of bees was in motion, and playing about over his
head. This noise was heard last week, on June 28th.

“ Resounds the living surface of the ground,
Nor undelightful is the ceaseless hum
To him who muses . . . at noon."

“ Thick in yon stream of light a thousand ways,
Upward and downward, thwarting and convolved,
The quivering nations sport.”

This wild and fanciful assertion will hardly be
admitted by the philosophers of these days; espe-
cially as they all now seem agreed that insects are
not furnished with any organs of hearing. at all. But
if it should be urged, that though they cannot hear,
yet perhaps they may feel the repercussion of sounds,
I grant it is possible they may. Yet that these im-
pressions are distasteful or hurtful, I deny, because

 

Nor near the steaming stench of muddy ground,
[Var 12011070 rocks t/zat render/2:261: the sound,
And double images of voice rebound."
(DRYDEN’s Virg. Georg. iv. 47-50.)
94

bXBRAYRTF
OF’HE
UNIVERSITY
OF

     
       

CALypmnvu“

   

 

 

Old luv/11155.

bees, in good summers, thrive well in my outlet,
where the echoes are very strong: for this village is
another Anathoth, a place of responses or echoes.
Besides, it does not appear from experiment that
beesare in any way capable of being affected by
sounds: for I have often tried my own with a large
speaking-trumpet held close to their hives, and with
such an exertion of voice as would have hailed a
ship at the distance of a mile, and still these insects
pursued their various employments undisturbed, and
without showing the least sensibility or resentment.

Some time since its discovery this echo is be-
come totally silent, though the object, or hop-kiln,
remains: nor is there any mystery inthis defect; for
the field between is planted as a hop-garden, and
the voice of the speaker is totally absorbed and lost
among the poles and entangled foliage of the hops.
And when, the poles are removed in autumn the
disappointment is the same; because a tall quick-set
hedge, nurtured up for the purpose of shelter to the
hop-ground, interrupts the repercussion of the voice:
so that till those obstructions are removed no more
of its garrulity can be expected.

Should any gentleman of fortune think an echo
in his park or outlet a pleasing incident, he might
build one at little or no expense. FOr whenever he
had occasion for a new barn, stable, dog kennel, or
the like structure, it would be only needful to erect

this building on the gentle declivity of a hill, with a
95

like rising opposite to it, at a few hundred yards
distance; and perhaps success might be the easier
insured could some canal, lake, or stream, intervene.
From a sat at the (mlrum p/zmzz'cztm he and his
friends might amuse themselves sometimes of an
evening with the prattle of this loquacious nymph;
of whose complacency and decent reserve more may
be said than can with truth of every individual of
her sex; since she is “always ready with her vocal
response, but never intrusive: ”—

6‘

— — —- — — —— quze nec reticere loquenti,
Ncc prior ipsa loqui didicit resouabilis echo.”

The classic reader will, I trust, pardon the follow-
ing lovely quotation, so finely describing echoes, and
so poetically accounting for their causes :—

“ Qua: bcué quom videas, raliouem reddere possis
'l‘ute tibi atque aliis, quo paeto per loca sola
Saxa pareis forums verlmrum ex ordiuc reddaut,
l’alauleis comites quom montcis inter opacos
Quacrimus, cl magufi dispcros vocc ciemus.

Sex etiam, :iut septcm loca vidi rcdderc voces
Unmu quom jacercs: ita collcs collibus ipsis
Vcrha rcpulsantes iterahaut dicta rcferre.
llzuc loca capripcdes Satyros Nymphasque tenere
Finitimi liuguut, cl Faunos esse loquuutur;
Quorum uoctivago strepitu, ludoque jocauti
Adlirmaut volgo taciturua sileulia rumpi,
(Thordarumque souos lieri, dulceisquc (lucrelas,
'l‘ibia (Inns fuudit digitis pulsata cauentum:
lCt genus agricolfim late seutisccre, quom l‘au
l’iuca semilcri capitis velamiua quassaus,
U uco smpc lalu‘o calaiuos percurril hiauteis,
Fistula silveslrcm uc ccsset fuudere nuisam.”
(Luciuc'ruws, lib. iv. 1. 576.)
()0

“ This shows thee why, whilst men, through caves and groves
Call their lost friends, or mourn unhappy loves,
The pitying rocks, the groaning caves return
Their sad complaints again, and seem to mourn:
This all observe, and I myself have known
Both rocks and hills return six words for one:
The dancing words from hill to hill rebound,
They all receive, and all restore the sound :
The vulgar and the neighbours think, and tell,
That there the Nymphs, and Fauns, and Satyrs dwell:
And that their wanton sport, their loud delight,
Breaks through the quiet silence of the night:
Their music’s softest airs fill all the plains,
And mighty Pan delights the list’ning swains:
The goat-faced Pan, whose flocks securely feed;
With long-hung lip he blows his oaten reed:
The horned, the half-beast god, when brisk and gay,
With pine-leaves crowned, provokes the swains to play.”
" (CREECH’S Translation.)
SELBORNE,1&&.12,I778.

LETTER LXXXI.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

AMONG the many singularities attending those
amusing birds the swifts, I am now confirmed in the
opinion that we have every year the same number
of pairs invariably ; at least the result of my inquiry
has been exactly the same for a long time past. The
swallows and martins are so numerous, and so wide-
ly distributed over the village, that it is hardly pos-
sible to re-count them; while the swifts, though they

do not all build in the church, yet so frequently haunt
97

it, and play and rendezvous round it, that they are
easily enumerated. The number that I constantly
find are eight pairs; about half of which reside in
the church, and the rest build in some of the lowest
and meanest thatched cottages. Now as these eight
pairs, allowance being made for accidents, breed
yearly eight pairs more, what becomes of this annual
increase; and what determines every spring which
pairs shall visit us, and reoccupy their ancient haunts?

Ever since I have attended to that subject of
ornithology,1 have always supposed that the sud-
den reverse of affection, that strange dvroa-Top'yfi, or
antipathy, which immediately succeeds in the feath-
ered kind to the most passionate fondness, is the
occasion of an equal dispersion of birds over the
face of the earth. Without this provision one fa-
vourite district would be crowded with inhabitants,
while others would be destitute and forsaken. But
the parent birds seem to maintain a jealous supe-
riority, and to oblige the young to seek for new
abodes : and the rivalry of the males, in many kinds,
prevents their crowding the one on the other.
Whether the swallows and house-martins return in
the same exact number annually is not easy to say,
for reasons given above: but it is apparent, as I
have remarked before in my Monographies, that the
numbers returning bear no manner of proportion to
the numbers retiring.

SELBORNE, May 13, I778.
98

LETTER LXXXII.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

THE standing objection to botany has always
been, that it is a pursuit that amuses the fancy and
exercises the memory, without improving the mind
or advancing any real knowledge: and, where the
science is carried no farther than a mere system-
atic classification, the charge is but too true. But
the botanist that is desirous of wiping off this asper-
sion should be by no means content with a list.
of names; he should study plants philosophically,
should investigate the laws of vegetation, should
examine the powers and virtues of efficacious herbs,
should promote their cultivation; and graft the gar-
dener, the planter, and the husbandman, on the phy-
tologist. Not that system is by any means to be
thrown aside; without system the field of Nature
would be a pathless wilderness: but system should
be subservient to, not the main object of, pursuit.

Vegetation is highly worthy of our attention;
and in itself is of the utmost consequence to man-
kind, and productive of many of the greatest com-
forts and elegancies of life. To plants we owe tim-
ber, bread, beer, honey, wine, oil, linen, cotton, &c.,
what not only strengthens our hearts, and exhila-
rates our spirits, but what secures us from inclemen-

cies of weather and adorns our persons. Man, in
24 99

his true state of nature, seems to be subsisted by
spontaneous vegetation: in middle climes, where
grasses prevail, he mixes some animal food with the
produce of the field and garden: and it is towards
the polar extremes only that, like his kindred bears
and wolves, he gorges himself with flesh alone, and
is driven to what hunger has never been known to
compel the very beasts, to prey on his own species. '

The productions of vegetation have had a vast
influence on the commerce of nations, and have been
the great promoters of navigation, as may be seen
in the articles of sugar, tea, tobacco, opium, ginseng,
betel, paper, &c. As every climate has its peculiar
produce, our natural wants bring on a mutual inter-
course; so that by means of trade each distant part
is supplied with the growth of every latitude. But
without the knowledge of plants and their culture
we must have been content with our hips and haws,
without enjoying the delicate fruits of India and the
salutiferous drugs of Peru.

Instead of examining the minute distinctions of
every various species of each obscure genus, the
botanist should endeavour to make himself ac-
quainted with those that are useful. You shall see
a man readily ascertain every herb of the field, yet
hardly know wheat from barley, or at least one sort
of wheat or barley from another.

But of all sorts of vegetation the grasses seem

to be most neglected; neither the farmer nor the
100

grazier seems to distinguish the annual from the
perennial, the hardy from the tender, nor the suc-
culent and nutritive from the dry and juiceless.

The study of grasses would be of great conse-
quence to a northerly and grazing kingdom. The
botanist that could improve the sward of the district
where he lived would be a useful member of society:
to raise a-thick turf on a naked soil would be worth
volumes of systematic knowledge; and he would be
the best,commonwealth’s man that could occasion
the growth of " two blades of grass where only one
was seen before.”

SELBORNEh/flnez,l77&

LETTER LXXXIII.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

IN a district so diversified with such a variety of
hill and dale, aspects, and soils, it is no wonder that
great choice of plants should be found. Chalks,
clays, sands, sheep-walks and downs, bogs, heaths,
- woodlands, and champaign fields, cannot but furnish
an ample Flora. The deep rocky lanes abound with
filz'ces, and the pastures and moist woods with fungi.
.If in any branch of botany we may seem to be want—
ing, it must be in the large aquatic plants, which are

not to be expected on a spot far removed from
IOI

rivers, and lying up amidst the hill country at the
spring-heads. To enumerate all the plants that have

 

A Til/a 3" lane.

been discovered within our limits would be a need-
less work; but a short list of the more rare, and the
spots where they are to be found. may be neither
unacceptable nor unentertaining :—

Stinking Hellebore (ID/[3170mm fwliz/m). Bear's foot or Setterwort,
all over the High-wood and Coney-croft-hanger; this continues a great
I02

branching plant the winter through, blossoming about January, and is
very ornamental in shady walks and shrubberies. The good women
give the leaves powdered to children troubled with worms; but it is a
violent remedy, and ought to be administered with caution.

Green Hellebore (Helleborus viria’z's), in the deep stony lane on the
left hand just before the turning to Norton farm, and at the top of Mid-
dle Dorton under the hedge ; this plant dies down to the ground early in
autumn. and springs again about February, flowering almost as soon as
it appears above ground.

Creeping Bilberry, or Cranberries (Vaa'z'm'um 0x31606605), in the bogs
of Bin’s-pond. -

Whortle, or Bilberries (Vaccinium myrtz'l/us), on the dry hillocks of
Wolmer Forest.

Round-leaved Sundew (Drosem rotzma’iflom), and long-leaved Sun-
dew (Dmsem [ongz'folz'a), in the bogs of Bin’s-pond.

Purple Comarum (Comarum palmtre), or Marsh Cinquefoil, in the
bogs of Bin’s-pond. '

Tustan, or St. John's Wort (Hyperzczmz aiza’rouemzwz), in the stony,
hollow lanes. .

Lesser Periwinkle (Vim‘a minor), in Selborne-hanger and Shrub-
wood.

Yellow Monotropa (Monotrofa Izypopz't/zys), or Bird’s nest, in Selborne-
hanger under the shady beeches, to whose roots it seems to be parasit-
- ical, at the north-west end of the Hanger.

Perfoliated Yellow-wort (C/z/om perfolz'ata, Blackstom'a perfo/z'ata,
Hudsom'z'), on the banks in the King’s-field.

Herb . Paris (Paris quadrzfolz'a), True-love, or One-berry, in the
Church-litten-coppice.

Opposite Golden Saxifrage (C/uysosp/em'zwz’ oppositzfolz'um), in the
dark and rocky hollow lanes.

Autumnal Gentian (Gentiana amarella), or Fellwort, on the Zig-Zag
and Hanger.

To‘oth-wort (Lat/tram squammarz'a), in the Church-litten-coppice
under some hazels near the foot-bridge, in Trimming’s garden hedge,
and on the dry wall opposite Grange-yard.

Small Teasel (Dz’pmcus 1527032”), in the Short and Long Lithe.

Narrow-leaved, or Wild Lathyrus (Lat/zyrm Jj/Zvestris), in the bushes
at the foot of the Short Lithe, near the path.

Ladies’ Traces (Op/Hy: spz'ralz's), in the Long Lithe, and towards the
south corner of the common.

Birds’ Nest Ophrys (01%77: m'a’us am’s), in the Long Lithe, under
‘ ' 103

the shady beeches among the dead leaves; in Great Dorton among the
bushes, and on the ”anger plentifully.

llelleborine (Sara/>121: [atzfo/z'a), in the High-wood under the shady
beeches.

Spurge Laurel (Dali/me [(zureo/(z), in Selborne-hanger and the High-
wood.

The Mezereon (Bap/me Mezereum), in Selborne-hanger, among the
shrubs at the south-east end above the cottages.

'l‘ruflles (Lympcrdon tuber), in the ”anger and the High-wood.

Dwarf Elder, Walwort or Danewort (Sal/Mucus ebu/us), among the
rubbish and ruined foundations of the I’riory.

Of all the propensities of plants none seem more
strange than their different periods of blossoming.
Some produce their flowers in the winter, or very
first dawnings of spring; many when the spring
is established; some at midsummer, and some not
till autumn. When we see the Hal/£12072“ fwtz'a’us
and [kl/Moms mg” blowing at Christmas, the Helle-
boms layman/2's in January, and the He/[eborus vz'rz'dz's
as soon as ever it emerges out of the ground, we do
not wonder, because they are kindred plants that
we expect should keep pace the one with the other.
But other congenerous vegetables differ so widely
in their time of flowering, that we cannot but admire.
1 shall only instance at present in the Crocus satz'zzus,
the vernal and the autumnal crocus, which have
such an affinity, that the best botanists only make
them varieties of the same genus, of which there is
only one species; not being able to discern any dif-
ference in the corolla, or in the internal structure.
Yet the vernal crocus expands its flowers by the

beginning of March at farthest, and often even in
104

very rigorous weather; they cannot be retarded but
by some violence offered :—while the autumnal
(the Saffron.) defies the influence of the spring and
summer, and will not blow till most plants begin to
"fade and run to seed. This circumstance is one of
the wonders of the creation, little noticed because a
common occurrence: yet it ought not to be over-
looked because it is familiar, since it would be as
difficult to be explained as the most stupendous phe-
nomenon in nature.
“Say, what impels, amidst surrounding snow

Congealed, the crocus’ flamy bud to glow?

Say, what retards, amidst the summer's blaze,

Th’ autumnal bulb, till pale, declining days?

The GOD of SEASONS ; whose pervading power

Controls the sun, or sheds the fleecy shower:

He bids each flower His quick’ning word obey;
Or to each lingering bloom enjoins delay.”

SELBORNE, fuly 3, I778.

LETTER LXXXIV.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

“‘ Omnibus animalibus reliquis certus et uniusmodi, et in suo cuique
genere incessus est: aves solae vario meatu feruntur, et in terra, et in
.aére."—PLIN. Hist. Nat. lib. x. cap. 38.

“All animals have a certain definite and peculiar gait; birds alone
move in a varied manner both on the ground and in the air."

A GOOD ornithologist should be able to distin-

guish birds by their air as well as by their colours
105

and shape; on the ground as well as on the wing, and
in the bush as well as in the hand. For, though it
must not be said that every species of birds has a
manner peculiar to itself, yet there is somewhat in
most genera at least that at first sight discriminates
them, and enables a judicious observer to pronounce
upon them with some certainty. Put a bird in mo-
tion “ and it is truly betrayed by its gait.”

H

“ — — Et vera incessu patuit — — — —

Thus kites and buzzards sail round in circles with
wings expanded and motionless ; and it is from their
gliding manner that the former are still called in the
north of England and Scotland “gleds,” from the
Saxon verb g/z'a’mz, to glide. The kestrel, or wind-
hover, has a peculiar mode of hanging in the air in
one place, his wings all the while being briskly agi—
tated. Hen-harriers fly low over heaths or fields of
corn, and beat the ground regularly like a pointer or
setting-dog. Owls move in a buoyant manner, as
if lighter than the air; they seem to want ballast.
There is a peculiarity belonging to ravens that must
draw the attention even of the most incurious—they
spend all their leisure time in striking and cuffing
each other on the wing in a kind of playful skirmish ;
and, when they move from one place to another, fre—
quently turn on their backs with a loud croak, and
seem to be falling to the ground. When this odd

gesture betides them, they are scratching themselves
106

with one foot, and thus lose the centre of gravity.
Rooks sometimes dive and tumble in a frolicsome
manner; crows and daws swag-

ger in their walk; wood-
peckers fly volaz‘u mza’oso,
opening and closing their
wings at every stroke,
and so are always rising

or falling in curves. All

of this genus use their
tails, which incline down-
ward, as a support while

   

they run up trees. Parrots,
like all other hooked-clawed .
birds, walk awkwardly, and
make use of their bill as a third
foot, climbing and descending with A www-
ridiculous caution. All the gallz'ne

parade and walk gracefully, and run nimbly; but
fly with difficulty, with an impetuous whirring, and
in a straight line. Magpies and jays flutter with
powerless wings, and make no despatch; herons
seem encumbered with too much sail for their light
bodies; but these vast hollow wings are necessary
in carrying burdens, such as large fishes, and the
like; pigeons, and particularly the sort called smit-
ers, have a way of clashing their wings, the one
against .the other, over their backs with a loud

snap; another variety called tumblers, turn them-
107

selves over in the air. Some birds have move-
ments peculiar to the season of love: thus ring-
doves, though strong and rapid at other times, yet,
in the spring. hang about on the wing in a toying
and playful manner; thus the cock-snipe, while
breeding forgetting his former flight, fans the air
like the wind-hover; and the greenfinch in particular
exhibits such languishing and faltering gestures, as
to appear like a wounded and dying bird ; the king-
fisher darts along like an arrow; fern-owls, or goat-
_,,fi,,, e a, suckers, glance
in the dusk over
the tops of trees
like a meteor;
starlings as it

were swim along,
while missel-
thrushes use a
wild and desul-
tory flight ; swal-
lows sweep over
the surface of
the ground and
water, and dis-

 

tinguish them-

selves by rapid

.H'Xj'flu'lar.

turns and quick
evolutions; swifts dash round in circles; and the

bankanartin moves with frequent vacillations like
108

a butterfly. Most of the small birds fly by jerks,
rising and falling as they advance; many of them
hop ; but wagtails and larks walk, moving their legs
alternately. Skylarks rise and fall perpendicularly
as they sing; woodlarks hang poised in the air; and
titlarks rise and fall in large curves, singing in their
descent. The white-throat uses odd jerks and ges-
tioulations over the tops of hedges and bushes. All
the duck-kind waddle; divers, and auks, walk as if
fettered, and stand erect on their tail : these are the
comp/2d“ of Linnaeus. Geese and cranes, and most
wild-fowl, move in figured flights, often changing
their position. The secondary renges of fringe,
wild-ducks, and some others, are very long, and give
their wings, when in motion, a hooked appearance.
Dab-chicks, moor-hens, and coots, fly erect, with
their legs hanging down, and hardly make any de-
spatch; the reason is plain, their wings are placed
too forward out of the true centre of gravity for
rapid progression; as the legs of auks and divers
are situated too backward.

SELBORNE, A ug. 7, I778.

109

LETTER LXXXV.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

FROM the motion of birds, the transition is natu-
ral enough to their notes and language, of which I
shall say something. Not that I would pretend to
understand their language, like the vizier of the
Spertator, who, by the recital of a conversation which
passed between two owls, reclaimed a sultan, before
delighting in conquest and devastation ; but I would
be thought only to mean that many of the winged
tribes have various sounds and voices adapted to
express their various passions, wants, and feelings:
such as anger, fear, love, hatred, hunger, and the
like. All species are not equally eloquent ; some are
copious and fluent as it were in their utterance, while
others are confined to a few important sounds: no
bird, like the fish kind, is quite mute, though some
are rather silent. The language of birds is very an-
cient, and, like other ancient modes of speech, very
elliptical; little is said, but much is meant and un-
derstood.

The notes of the eagle-kind are shrill and pier-
cing; and about the season of nidification much
diversified, as I have been often assured by a curious
observer of Nature who long resided at ,Gibraltar,
where eagles abound. The notes of our hawks much

resemble those of the king of birds. Owls have very
110

expressive notes; they boot in a fine vocal sound,
much resembling the 7/02: lazmzamz, and reducible by
a pitch-pipe to a musical key. This note seems to
express complacency and rivalry among the males:
they use also a quick call and a horrible scream;
and can snore and hiss when they mean to menace.
Ravens,,besides their loud croak, can exert a deep
and solemn note that makes the woods echo; the
amorous sound of a crow is strange and ridiculous;
rooks, in the breeding season, attempt sometimes in
the gaiety of their hearts to sing, but with no great
success; the parrot-kind may have many modula-
tions of voice, as appears by their aptitude to learn
human sounds ; doves coo in an amorous and mourn-
ful manner, and are emblems of despairing lovers;
the woodpecker sets up a sort of loud and hearty
laugh; the fern-owl, or goat-sucker, from the dusk
till daybreak, serenades his mate with the clattering
0f castanets. All the tuneful passeres express their
complacency by sweet modulations, and a variety of
melody. The swallow, as has been observed in a
former letter, by a shrill alarm bespeaks the atten-
tion of the other lzz'rmza’z'nes, and bids them be aware
that the hawk is at hand. Aquatic and gregarious
. birds, especially the nocturnal, that shift their quar-
ters in the dark, are very noisy and loquacious; as
cranes, wild-geese, wild-ducks, and the like: their
perpetual clamour prevents them from dispersing

and losing their companions.
III

In so extensive a subject, sketches and outlines
are as much as can be expected ; for it would be end-
less to instance in all their infinite variety the notes
of the feathered nation. I shall therefore confine the
remainder of this letter to the few domestic fowls of
our yards which are most known, and therefore best
understood. And first the peacock, with his gor-
geous train, demands our attention ; but, like most of
the gaudy birds, his notes are grating and shocking
to the ear: the yelling of cats, and the braying of an
ass, are not more disgustful. The voice of the goose
is trumpet-like, and clanking; and once saved the
Capitol at Rome, as grave historians assert; the hiss
also of the gander is formidable and full of menace,
and “protective of his young.” Among ducks the
sexual distinction of voice is remarkable; for, while
the quack of the female is loud and sonorous, the
voice of the drake is inward and harsh, and feeble,
and scarce discernible. The cock turkey struts and
gobbles to his mistress in a most uncouth manner;
he hath also a pert and petulant note when he attacks
his adversary. When a hen turkey leads forth her
young brood she keeps a watchful eye ; and if a bird
of prey appear, though ever so high in the air, the
careful mother announces the enemy with a little
inward moan, and watches him with a steady and
attentive look; but, if he approach, her note becomes
earnest and alarming, and her outcries are redoubled.

No inhabitants of the yard seem possessed of
112

such a variety of expression and so copious a lan-
guage as common poultry. Take a chicken of four
or five days old, and hold it up to a window where
there are flies, and it will immediately seize its prey,
with little twitterings of complacency; but if you
tender it a wasp or a bee, at once its note becomes
harsh, and expressive of disapprobation and a sense
of danger. When a pullet is ready to lay she inti-
mates the event by a joyous soft and easy note. Of
all the occurrences of their life that of laying seems
to be the most important; for no sooner has a hen
disburdened herself, than she rushes forth with a
clamorous kind of joy, which the cock and the rest
of his mistresses immediately adopt. The tumult is
not confined to the family concerned, but catches
from yard to yard, and spreads to every homestead
within hearing, till at last the whole village is in an
uproar. As soon as a hen becomes a mother her
new relation demands a new language; she then
runs clucking and screaming about, and seems agi.
tated, as if possessed. The father of the flock has
also a considerable vocabulary; if he finds food, he
calls a favourite concubine to partake; and if a bird
of prey passes over, with a warning voice he bids his
_ family beware. The gallant Chanticleer has, at com-
mand, his amorous phrases and his terms of defiance.
But the sound by which he is best known is his
crowing; by this he has been distinguished in all

ages as the countryman’s clock or larum, as the
113

watchman that; proclaims the divisions of the night.
Thus the poet elegantly styles him:
“ A — the crested euek, whose clarion sounds
The silent llUllr»."
A neighbouring gentleman one summer had lost
most of his chickens by a sparrow-hawk, that came

gliding down between a faggot pile and the end of

\p‘

 

.S‘fltlFV-UU' IIIITA"".Y.
his house, to the place where the coops stood. The

owner, inwardly vexed to see his flock thus diminish-
114

ing, hung a setting net adroitly between the pile and
the house, into which the caitiff dashed, and was en-
tangled. Resentment suggested the law of retalia-
tion; he therefore clipped the hawk’s wings, cut off
his talons, and, fixing a cork on his bill, threw him
down among the brood-hens. Imagination cannot
paint the scene that ensued; the expressions that
fear, rage, and revenge inspired were new, or at least
:such as had been unnoticed before: the exasperated
matrons upbraided, they execrated, they insulted,
they triumphed. In a word, they never desisted
from buffeting their adversary till they had torn him
in a hundred pieces.

SELBORNE,S@H.9,I77&

LETTER LXXXVI.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

u_ _ _ _ _ _ —monstrent

Quid tantum oceano properent se tingere soles
Hyberni: vel quae tardis mora noctibus obstet.”
(VIRG. 0mg. ii. 477—482.)

“ How winter suns in ocean plunge so soon,

And what belates the tardy nights of June.”

GENTLEMEN who have outlets might contrive to

make ornament subservient to utility; a pleasing
25 115

eye-trap might also contribute to promote science:
an obelisk in a garden or park might be both an em-
bellishment and a heliotrope.

Any person that is curious, and enjoys the advan,
tage of a good horizon, might, with little trouble-
make two heliotropes; the one for the winter, the
other for the summer solstice: and these two erec-
tions might be constructed with very little expense ;
for two pieces of timber framework, about ten or
twelve feet high, and four feet broad at the base,
close lined with plank, would answer the purpose.

The erection for the former should, if possible, be
placed within sight of some window in the common
sitting parlour; because men, at that dead season of
the year, are usually within doors at the close of the
day ; while that for the latter might be fixed for any
given spot in the garden or outlet: whence the
owner might contemplate, in a fine summer’s even-
ing, the utmost extent that the sun makes to the
northward at the season of the longest days. Now
nothing would be necessary but to place these two
objects with so much exactness, that the westerly
limb of the sun, at setting, might but just clear the
winter heliotrope to the west of it on the shortest;
the whole disc of the sun clearing the summer helio-
trope to the north of it at the longest day.

By this simple expedient it would soon appear
that there is no such thing, strictly speaking, as a sol-

stice; for, from the shortest day, the owner would,
116

every clear evening, see the disc advancing, at its
setting, to the westward of the object; and, from the
longest day, observe the sun retiring backwards
every evening at its setting, towards the object west-
ward, till, in a few nights, it would set quite behind
it, and so by degrees to the west of it: for when the
sun comes near the summer solstice, the whole disc
of it would at first set behind the object; after a time
the northern limb would first appear, and so every
night gradually more, till at length the whole diame-
ter would set northward of it for about three nights ;
but on the middle night of the three, sensibly more
remote than the former or following. When reced-
ing from the summer tropic, it would continue more
and more to be hidden every night, till at length
it would descend behind the object again; and so
nightly more and more to the westward.

SELBORNE.

117

LETTER LXXXVII.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

“ — — — Mugire videbis
Sub pedibus terram, et descendere montibus ornos.”
(VIRG. E72. iv. 490, 491.)

" Earth bellows,
Trees leave their mountains at her potent call ;

Beneath her footsteps groans the trembling ball."
(PITT.)

WHEN I was a boy I used to read, with .as-
tonishment and implicit assent, accounts in Baker's
“ Chronicle ” of walking hills and travelling moun—
tains. John Philips, in his “ Cyder,” alludes to the
credit given to such stories with a delicate but quaint
vein of humour peculiar to the author of the “ Splen-
did Shilling: "

“ I nor advise, nor reprehend the choice
Of Mai-cley Hill ; the apple no where finds
A kinder mould ; yet ’tis unsafe to trust
Deceitful ground : who knows but that once more
This mount may journey, and his present site
Forsaken, to thy neighbour’s bounds transfer

Thy goodly plants, affording matter strange
For law debates I"

But, when I came to consider better, I began to
suspect that though our hills may never have jour-
neyed far, yet that the ends of many of them have
slipped and fallen away at distant periods, leaving

the cliffs bare and abrupt. This seems to have been
118

the case with Nore and Whetham Hills; and espe-
cially with the ridge between Harteley Park and
Wardleham, where the ground has slid into vast
swellings and furrows ; and lies still in such romantic
confusion as cannot be accounted for from any other
cause. A strange event, that happened not long
since, justifies our suspicions; which, though it befell
not within the limits of this parish, yet, as it was
within the hundred of Selborne, and as the circum-
stances Were singular, may fairly claim a place in
this work.

The months of January and February, in the year
1774, were remarkable for great melting snows and
vast gluts of rain; so that by the end of the latter
month the land-springs, or lavants, began to prevail,
and to be near as high as in the memorable winter of
1764. The beginning of March also went on in the
same tenor; when, in the night between the 8th and '
9th of that month, a considerable part of the great
woody hanger at Hawkley was torn from its place,
and fell down, leaving a high free-stone cliff naked
and bare, and resembling the steep side of a chalk-
pit. It appears that this huge fragment, being per-
haps sapped and undermined by waters, foundered,
and was ingulfed, going .down in a perpendicular
. direction; for a gate which stood in the field, on the
top of the hill, after sinking with its posts for thirty or
forty feet, remained in so true and upright a position

as to open and shut with great exactness, just as in
119

its first situation. Several oaks are still standing,
and in a state of vegetation, after taking the same
desperate leap. That great part of this prodigious
mass was absorbed in some gulf below is plain also
from the inclining ground at the bottom of the hill,
which is free and unincumbered; but would have
been buried in heaps of rubbish had the fragment
parted and fallen forward. About a hundred yards
from the foot of this hanging coppice stood a cottage
by the side of a lane ; and two hundred yards lower,
on the other side of the lane, was a farm-house, in
which lived a labourer and his family; and, just by,
a stout new barn. The cottage was inhabited by
an old woman and her son, and his wife. These peo-
ple in the evening, which was very dark and tem-
pestuous, observed that the brick floors of their
kitchens began to heave and part; and that the
walls seemed to open, and the roofs to crack: but
they all agree that no tremor of the ground, indicat-
ing an earthquake, was ever felt; only that the wind
continued to make a most tremendous roaring in the
woods and hangers. The miserable inhabitants, not
daring to go to bed, remained in the utmost solici-
tude and confusion, expecting every moment to be
buried under the ruins of their shattered edifiCes.
When daylight came they were at leisure to contem-
plate the devastations of the night: they then found
that a deep rift, or chasm, had opened under their

houses, and torn them, as it were, in two; and that
120

one end of the barn had suffered in a similar manner;
that a pond near the cottage had undergone a strange
reverse, becoming deep at the shallow end, and so
vice versri ,' that many large oaks were removed out
of their perpendicular, some thrown down, and some
fallen into the heads of neighbouring trees; and
that a gate was thrust forward, with its hedge, full
six feet, so as to require a new track to be made to
it. From the foot of the cliff the general course
of the ground, which is pasture, inclines in a
moderate descent for half a mile, and is interspersed
with somehillocks, which were rifted, in every direc-
tion, as well towards the great woody hanger as from
it. In the first pasture the deep clefts began: and
running across the lane, and under the buildings,
made such vast shelves that the road was impassable
for some time; and so over to an arable field on the
other side, which was strangely torn and disordered.
The second pasture field, being more soft and
springy, was protruded forward without many fis-
sures in the turf, which was raised in long ridges re-
sembling graves, lying at right angles to the motion.
At the bottom of this inclosure the soil and turf rose
many feet against some oaks that obstructed their
farther course, and terminated this awful commotion.

The perpendicular height of the precipice, in gen-
eral, is twenty-three yards; the length of the lapse,
or slip, as seen from the fields below, one hundred

and eighty-one; and a partial fall, concealed in the
IZI

coppice, extends seventy yards more: so that the
total length of this fragment that fell was two hun-
dred and fifty-one yards. About fifty acres of land
suffered from this violent convulsion; two houses.
were entirely destroyed ; one end of a new barn was.
left in ruins, the walls being cracked through the
very stones that composed them; a hanging coppice ‘
was changed to a naked rock; and some grass
grounds and an arable field so broken and rifted by
the chasms as to be rendered, for a time, neither fit
for the plough nor safe for pasturage, till consider-
able labour and expense had been bestowed in level»
ling the surface and filling in the gaping fissures.

SELBORNE.

LETTER LXXXVIII.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

t1

— — — resonant arbusta — — —,”
(VIRG. Ed. ii. 13.)

“The groves resound.”

THERE is a steep abrupt pasture field interspersed
with furze close to the back of this village, well
known by the name of the Short Lithe, consisting of
a rocky dry soil, and inclining to the afternoon sun.
This spot abounds with Cry/[us campz’sz‘ris, or field-

cricket, which, though frequent in these parts, is
122

by no means a common insect in many other coun-
tise.

As their cheerful summer cry cannot but draw
the attention of a naturalist, I have often gone down
to examine the economy of thesegryllz', and study their
mode of life: but they are so shy and cautious, that
it is no easy matter to get a sight of them; for, feel-
ing a person’s footsteps as he advances, they stop
short in the midst of their song, and retire backward
nimbly into their burrows, where they lurk till all
suspicion of danger is over.

At first we attempted to dig them out with a
spade, but without any great success; for either we
could not get to the bottom of the hole, which often
terminated under a great stone; or else, in breaking
up the ground, we inadvertently squeezed the poor
insect to death. Out of one so bruised we took a
multitude of eggs, which were long and narrow, of a
yellow colour, and covered with a very tough skin.
By this accident we learned to distinguish the male
from the female; the former of which is shining
black, with a golden stripe across his shoulders; the
latter is more dusky, more capacious about the abdo-
men, and carries a long sword-shaped weapon at her
tail, which probably is the instrument with which she
deposits her eggs in their receptacles.

Where violent methods will not avail, more gentle
means will often succeed; and so it proved in the

present case; for though a spade be too boisterous
123

and rough an implement, a pliant stock of grass,
gently insinuated into the caverns, will probe their
windings to the bottom, and quickly bring out the
inhabitant; and thus the humane inquirer may grat—
ify his curiosity without injuring the object of it.
[t is remarkable that, though these insects are fur-
nished with long legs behind, and brawny thighs
for leaping, like grasshoppers; yet, when driven
from their holes they show no activity, but crawl
along in a shiftless manner, so as easily to be taken:
and again, though provided with a curious apparatus
of wings, yet they never exert them when there seems
to be the greatest occasion. The males only make
that thrilling noise perhaps out of rivalry and emu-
lation, as is the case with many animals which exert
some sprightly note during their breeding time: it
is raised by a brisk friction of one wing against the
other. They are solitary beings, living singly male
or female, each as it may happen; but there must be
a time when the sexes have some intercourse, and
then the wings may be useful perhaps during the
hours of night. When the males meet they will fight
fiercely, as I found by some which I put into the
crevices of a dry stone wall, where I should have
been glad to have made them settle. For though
they seemed distressed by being taken out of their
knowledge, yet the first that got possession of the
chinks would seize on any that were obtruded upon

them with a vast row of serrated fangs. With
124

their strong jaws, toothed like the shears of a lob-
ster’s claws, they perforate and round their curious
regular cells, having no fore.claws to dig, like the
mole-cricket. When taken in hand I could not but
wonder that they never offered to defend themselves,
though armed with such formidable weapons. Of
such herbs as grow before the mouths of their bur-
rows they eat indiscriminately; and on a little plat-
form, which they make just by, they drop their
dung ; and never, in the day time, seem to stir more
than two or three inches from home. Sitting in the
entrance of their caverns they chirp all night as well
as day, from the middle of the month of May to the
middle of July; and in hot weather, when they are
most vigorous, they make the hills echo; and, in the
stiller hours of darkness, may be heard to a consider—
able distance. In the beginning of the season their
notes are more faint and inward ; but become louder
as the summer advances, and so die away again by
degrees.

Sounds do not always give us pleasure according
to their sweetness and melody ; nor do harsh sounds
always displease. We are more apt to be captivated
or disgusted with the associations which they pro-
mote, than with the notes themselves. Thus the
_ shrilling of the field-cricket, though sharp and stridu-
lous, yet marvellously delights some hearers, filling
their minds with a train of summer ideas of every-

thing that is rural, verdurous and joyous.
125

About the 10th of March the crickets appear at
the mouths of their cells, which they then open and
bore, and shape very elegantly. They cast their
skins in April, which are then seen lying at the
mouths of their holes. All that ever I have seen at
that season were in their pupa state, and had only
the rudiments of wings, lying under a skin or coat,
which must be cast before the insect can arrive at its
‘perfect state; from whence I should suppose that
the old ones of last year do not always survive the
winter. In August their holes begin to be obliter-
ated, and the insects are seen no more till spring.

Not many summers ago I endeavoured to trans-
plant a colony to the terrace in my garden, by bor-
ing deep holes in the sloping turf. The new inhab-
itants stayed some time, and fed and sung; but
wandered away by degrees, and were heard at a
farther distance every morning; so that it appears
that in this emergency they made use of their wings,
to return to the spot from which they were taken.

One of these crickets, when confined in a paper
cage and set in the sun, and supplied with plants
moistened with water, will feed and thrive, and be-
come so merry and loud as to be irksome in the same
room where a person is sitting: if the plants are not
wetted it will die.

SELBORNE.

126

LETTER LXXXIX.
To THE HONOURABLF. DAINES HARRINGTON.
“ Far from all resort of mirth
Save the cricket on the hearth.”

MIL'I'ON‘S 1/ PL’IIJ‘I’I'OJO.

\VIIILE many other insects must be sought after
in fields. and woods, and waters, the Cry/[215 damm-

 

P/nwl‘trg under the lhuger.

firm, or house-cricket, resides altogether within our

dwellings, intruding itself upon our notice whether
127

we will or no. This species delights in new-built
houses, being, like the spider, pleasedwith the mois-
ture of the walls; and besides, the softness of the
mortar enables them to burrow and mine between
the joints of the bricks or stones, and to open com-
munications from one room to another. They are
particularly fond of kitchens and bakers’ ovens, on
account of their perpetual warmth.

Tender insects that live abroad either enjoy only
the short period of one summer, or else doze away
the cold uncomfortable months in profound slum-
bers; but these, residing as it were in a torrid zone,
are always alert and merry: a good Christmas fire is
to them like the heats of the dog-days. Though
they are frequently heard by day, yet is their nat-
ural time of motion only in the night. As soon as it
grows dusk, the chirping increases, and they come
running forth, ranging from the size of a flea to that
of their full stature. As one should suppose from
the burning atmosphere which they inhabit, they
are a thirsty race, and show a great propensity for
liquids, being found frequently drowned in pans of
water, milk, broth, or the like. Whatever is moist
they affect; and therefore often gnaw holes in wet
woollen stockings and aprons that are hung to the
fire: they are the housewife’s barometer, foretelling
her when it will rain; and they prognosticate some-
times, she thinks, good or ill luck: the death of near

relations, or the approach of an absent lover. By
128

being the constant companions of her solitary hours,
they naturally become the objects of her supersti-
tion. These crickets are not only very thirsty, but
very voracious; for they will eat the scummings of
pots, and yeast, salt, and crumbs of bread; and any
kitchen offal or sweepings. In the summer we have
observed them to fly out of the windows when it
became dusk, and over the neighbouring roofs.
This feat of activity accounts for the sudden manner
in which they often leave their haunts. as it does for
the method by which they come to houses where
they were not known before. It is remarkable, that
many sorts of insects seem never to use their wings
but when they have a mind to shift their quarters
and settle new colonies. When in the air they move
volatu undoso, in “waves or curves,” like woodpeck-
ers, opening and shutting their wings at every stroke,
and so are always rising or sinking.

When they increase to a great degree, as they
did once in the house where I am now writing, they
become noisome pests, flying into the candles, and
dashing into people’s faces; but may be blasted and
destroyed by gunpowder discharged into their crev-
ices and crannies.

[In November, after the servants are gone to bed,
the kitchen hearth swarms with minute crickets not
so large as fleas, which must have been lately hatched,
so that these domestic insects, cherished by the influ-

ence of a constant and large fire, regard not the sea-
129

son of the year, but produce their young at a time
when their congeners are either dead or laid up for
the winter, passing away the uncomfortable months
in a state of torpidity.

When house-crickets are out and running about
a room in the night, if surprised by a candle, they
utter two or three shrill notes, as if it were a signal
to their fellows, that they may escape to their cran-
nies and lurking-places to avoid danger.]

In families, at such times, they are, like Pharaoh’s
plague of frogs,—in their bedchambers, and upon
their beds, and in their ovens, and in their kneading.
troughs.* Their shrilling noise is occasioned by a
brisk attrition of their wings. Cats catch hearthu
crickets, and play with them as they do with mice,
and then devour them. Crickets may be destroyed,
like wasps, by phials half filled with beer, or any
other liquid, and set in their haunts; for, being
always eager to drink, they will crowd in till the
bottles are full.

SELBORNE.

 

* Exod. viii. 3.

I30

LETTER XC.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

HOW diversified are the modes of life not only of
incongruous but even of congenerous animals; and
yet their specific distinctions are not more various
than their propensities. Thus, while the field-cricket
delights in sunny dry banks, and the house-cricket
rejoices amidst the glowing heat of the kitchen
hearth or oven, the Cry/[us gryllo tat/pa (the mole-
cricket) haunts moist meadows, and frequents the
sides of ponds and banks of streams, performing all
its functions in a swampy wet soil. With a pair of
fore-feet curiously adapted to the purpose, it bur-
rows and works under ground like the mole, rais-
ing a ridge as it proceeds, but seldom throwing up
zhillocks.

As mole-crickets often infest gardens by the sides
of canals, they are unwelcome guests to the gardener,
raising up ridges in their subterraneous progress, and
rendering the walks unsightly. If they take to the
kitchen quarters, they occasion great damage among
the plants and roots, by destroying whole beds of
cabbages, young legumes, and flowers. When dug
out they seem very slow and helpless, and make no
use of their wings by day; but at night they come
abroad, and make long excursions, as I have been

convinced by finding stragglers, in a morning, in im-
26 I31

probable places. In fine weather, about the middle
of April, and just at the close of day, they begin to
solace themselves with a low, dull, jarring note, con-
tinued for a long time without interruption, and not
unlike the chattering of the fern-owl, or goat-sucker,
but more inward.

About the beginning of May they lay their eggs,
as I was once an eye-witness: for a gardener at
a house where I was on a visit, happening to be
mowing, on the 6th of that month, by the side of a
canal, his scythe struck too deep, pared off a large
piece of turf, and laid open to view a curious scene
of domestic economy:

“ — — — — ingentem lato dedit ore fenestram:
Apparet domus intus, et atria longa patescunt:
Apparent — — — penetralia.”

(ViRG.4&En.iL 481—483)

“A yawning breach of monstrous size he made:
The inmost house is now to light displayed:
The admitted light with sudden lustre falls .
On the long galleries and the splendid halls.”
(DRYDENJ

There were many caverns and winding passages
leading to a kind of chamber, neatly smoothed and
rounded, and about the size of a‘ moderate snuff-box.
Within this secret nursery were deposited near a
hundred eggs of a dirty yellow colour, and en-
veloped in a tough skin, but too lately excluded to
contain any rudiments of young, being full of a

viscous substance. The eggs lay but shallow, and
132

within the influence of the sun, just under a little
heap of. fresh-m0ved mould, like that which is raised
by ants. I

When mole-crickets fly they move .cursu undoso,
rising and falling in curves, like the other species
mentioned before. In different parts of this king-
dom peOple call them fen-crickets, churr-worms, and
eve-churrs, all very apposite names.

Anatomists, who have examined the intestines of
these insects, astonish me with their accounts; for
they say that, from the structure, position, and num-
ber of their stomachs, or maws, there seems to be
good reason to suppose that this and the two former
species ruminate or chew the cud like many quad-

rupeds!

SELBORNE.

LETTER XCI.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

IT is now more than forty years that I have paid
some attention to the ornithology of this district,
without being able to exhaust the subject: new
occurrences still arise as long as any inquiries are
kept alive.

In the last week of last month five of those most
rare birds, too uncommon to have obtained an Eng-

'lish name, but known to naturalists by the terms'
1%

of Izz'mantopus, or 1072))“, and C/zama’rz’us lzz'mmztopus,
were shot upon the verge of Frinsham pond, a large
lake belonging to the Bishop of Winchester, and
lying between Wolmer Forest and the town of
Farnham, in the county of Surrey. The pond-
keeper says there were three brace in the flock;
but that after he had satisfied his curiosity, he suf-
fered the sixth to remain unmolested. One of
these specimens I procured, and found the length
of the legs to be so extraordinary, that, at first
sight, one might have supposed the shanks had
been fastened on to impose on the credulity of the
beholder: they were legs in carz'catum; and had we
seen such proportions on a Chinese or Japan screen
we should have made large allowances for the fancy
of the draughtsman. These birds are of the plover
family, and might with propriety be called the stilt
plovers. Brisson, under thatidea, gives them the
apposite name of [’e’c/zasse. My specimen, when
drawn and stuffed with pepper, weighed only four
ounces and a quarter, though the naked part of the
thigh measured three inches and a half, and the legs
four inches and a half. Hence we may safely assert
that these birds exhibit, weight for inches, incom-
parably the greatest length of legs of any known
bird. The flamingo, for instance, is one of the most
long-legged birds, and yet it bears no manner of
proportion to the lzz'mmzz‘opus; for a cock flamingo

weighs, at an average, about four pounds avoirdu-
I34

pois; and his legsand thighs measure usually about
twenty inches. But four pounds are fifteen times
and a fraction morethan four ounces and one quar-
ter; and if four ounces and a quarter have eight
inches of legs, four pounds must have one hundred
and twenty inches and a fraction of legs; viz., some-
what more than ten feet; such a monstrous propor-
tion as the world never saw! If you should try the
experiment in still larger birds the disparity would
still increase. It must be matter of great curiosity
to see the stilt plover move; to observe how it can
wield such a length of lever with such feeble mus-
cles as the thighs seem to be furnished with. At
best one should expect it to be but a bad walker:
but what adds to the wonder is, that it has no back
toe. Now. without that steady prop to support its
steps it must be liable, in speculation, to perpetual
vacillations, and seldom able to preserve the true
centre of gravity.

The old name of Izz'mantopus is taken from Pliny;
and, by an awkward metaphor, implies that the legs
are as slender and pliant as if cut out of a thong of
leather. Neither Willughby nor Ray, in all their
curious researches, either at home or abroad, ever
saw this bird. Mr. Pennant never met with it in
all Great Britain, but observed it often in the cabi-
nets of the curious at Paris. Hasselquist says
that it migrates to Egypt in the autumn: and a
most accurate observer of nature has assured me

135

that he has found it on the banks of the streams in
Andalusia.

Our writers record it to have been found only
twice in Great Britain. From all these relations it
plainly appears that these long-legged plovers are
birds of South Europe, and rarely visit our island;
and when they do are wanderers and stragglers, and
impelled to make so distant and northern an excur-
sion from motives or accidents for which we are not
able to account. One thing may fairly be deduced,
that these birds cOme over to us from the Continent,
since nobody can suppose that a species not noticed
once in an age, and of such a remarkable make, can
constantly breed unobserved in this kingdom.

SELBORNE,jwuy % I779.

LETTER XCII.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

THE old Sussex tortoise, that I have mentioned to
you so often, is become my property. I dug it out
of its winter dormitory in March last, when it was
enough awakened to express its resentments by hiss—
ing; and packing it in a box with earth, carried it
eighty miles in post-chaises. The rattle and hurry

of the journey so perfectly roused it that, when I
136

turned it out on a border, it walked twice down to
the bottom of my garden; however, in the evening,
the weather being cold, it

buried itself in the loose

mould, and con-

  
  

tinues still con-

cealed.

A “(armor to ”711'le (affair? in [/13 ”UH/NI at “ 7718 [I'll/cm."
i»

As it will be under my eye, I shall now have an
opportunity of enlarging my observations on its
mode of life, and propensities; and perceive already
that towards the time of coming forth. it opens a
breathing-place in the ground near its head. requir-
ing, I conclude, a freer respiration as it becomes
more alive. This creature not only goes under the
earth from the middle of November to the middle of

April, but sleeps great part of the summer; for it
137

goes to bed in the longest days at four in the after-
noon, and often does not stir in the morning till late.
Besides, it retires to rest for every. shower; and
does not move at all on wet days.

When one reflects on the state of this strange
being, it is a matter of wonder to find that Provi-
dence should bestow such a profusion of days, such
a seeming waste of longevity, on a reptile that
appears to relish it so little as to squander more
than two-thirds of its existence in a joyless stupor,
and be lost to all sensation for months together in
the profoundest of slumbers.

While I was writing this letter, a moist and warm
afternoon, with the thermometer at fifty, brought
forth troops of shell-snails, and, at the same junc-
ture, the tortoise heaved up the mould and put
out his head; and the next morning came forth,
as it were raised from the dead; and walked about
till four in the afternoon. This was a curious coin-
cidence! a very amusing occurrence! to see such
a similarity of feelings between the two gbepeoc’xoo!
for so the Greeks call both the shell-snail and the .
tortoise.

Because we call ‘r‘ the old family tortoise” an
abject reptile, we are too apt to undervalue his abili-
ties, and depreciate his powers of instinct. Yet he
is, as Mr. Pope says of his lord,

“ —— — — Much too wise to walk into a well : "
I38

and has so much discernment as not to fall down a
ha-ha: but to stop' and withdraw from the brink
with the readiest precaution. -

Though he loves warm weather, he avoids the
hot sun; because his thick shell when once heated,
would, as the poet says of solid armour—“ scald
with safety.” He therefore spends the more sultry
hours under the umbrella of a large cabbage-leaf, or
amidst the waving forests of an asparagus-bed.

But as he avoids heat in the summer, so, in the
decline of the year, he improves the faint autumnal
beams by getting within the reflection of a fruit-
wall; and, though he never has read that planes
inclining to the horizon receive a greater share of
warmth, he inclines his shell, by tilting it against
the wall, to collect and admit every feeble ray.

Pitiable seems the condition of this poor embar-
rassed reptile: to be cased in a suit of ponderous
armour which he cannot lay aside; to be imprisoned,
as it were, within his own shell, must preclude, we
should suppose, all activity and disposition for enter-
prise. Yet there is a season of the year (usually the
beginning of June) when his exertions are remark-
able. He then walks on tiptoe, and is stirring by
five in the morning; and, traversing the garden,
examines every wicket and interstice in the fences,
through which he will escape if possible; and often
. has eluded the care of the gardener, and wandered
to some distant field. The motives that impel him

139

to undertake these rambles seem to be of the amor-
ous kind: his fancy then becomes intent on sexual
attachments, which transport him beyond his usual
gravity, and induce him to forget for a time his
ordinary solemn deportment.*

Summer birds are, this cold and backward spring,
unusually late: I have seen but one swallow yet.
This conformity with the weather convinces me more
and more that they sleep in the winter.

SELBHRNIC, Apr/'1 21, I780.

 

* “ \Ve think we see the worthy pastor," writes the late Mr. Brod-
erip, “looking down with the air of the melancholy Jaques on his
favourite, as those thoughts occur to him. It is very possible that
Cupid may have been bestriding the reptile. White’s description looks
like the restlessness of passion: but the love of liberty, and not im-
probably an annual migratory impulse to search for fresh pasture, may
have been the prevailing motive. 'l‘he tenacity of life with which the
fertudz'na/a are gifted is hardly credible. Rede's operations would have
been instant death to any more warm-blooded animal. He opened the
skull of a land tortoise, and removing every particle of brain, cleaned
the cavity out. It still groped its way about freely, for with the brain
its sight departed; but it lived from November till May. After many
other equally cruel experiments, one November he cut off the head of a
large tortoise, and it lived for twenty-three days. But, retiring within
its shell, it has its privileges.

” 'I‘he tortoise securely from danger does well
When he tucks up his head and his tail in his shell.”

140

 

 

 

[Cur/113w m1 (7/41 /m/_‘r mm"? I/n' ”any”.

LETTER XCIII.

To THOMAS PENNAN'I‘, ESQ.

A PAIR of honey-buzzards—Bm‘m apz’wms, Linn.,
Sive Vespz'vorus, Raii—built them a large shallow nest,
composed of twigs, and lined with dead beechen
leaves, upon a tall slender beech near the middle of
Selborne Hanger, in the summer of 1780. In the
middle of the month of June a'bold boy climbed this
tree, though standing on so steep and dizzy a situa-
tion, and brought down an egg, the only one in the
nest, which had been sat on for some time, and con-
tained the embryo of a young bird. The egg was
Smaller, and not so round as those of the common
buzzard; was dotted at each end with small red
spots, and surrounded in the middle with a broad
bloody zone.

The hen-bird was shot, and answered exactly to
Mr. Ray’s description of that species; had a black
cere, short thick legs, and a long tail. When on the
wing this species may be easily distinguished from
the common buzzard by its hawk-like appearance,
small head, wings not so blunt, and longer tail. This
specimen contained in its craw some limbs of frogs
and many grey snails without shells. The irides of
the eyes of this bird were of a beautiful bright yel-
low colour.

About the 10th of July in the same summer a pair
I4I

of sparrow-hawks bred in an old crow’s nest on a low
beech in the same hanger; and as their brood, which
was numerous, began to grow

up, became so daring and
ravenous, that they were
a terror to all the dames
in the village that had
chickens or ducklings
under their care. A boy
climbed the tree, and found
the young so fledged that

 

Ajay. they all escaped from him;
but discovered that a good
house had been kept: the larder was well stored
with provisions; for he brought down a young
blackbird, jay, and house-martin, all clean-picked,
and some half devoured. The old bird had been
observed to make sad havoc for some days among
the new-flown swallows and martins, which, being
but lately out of their nests, had not acquired those
powers and command of wing that enable them
when more mature to set such enemies at defiance.

LETTER XCIV.

To THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

EVERY incident that occasions a renewal of our
correspondence will ever be pleasing and agreeable
to me.

As to the wild wood-pigeon, the mms, or vz'nago,
of Ray, I am much of your mind; and see no reason
for making it the origin of the common house-dove:
but suppose those that have advanced that opinion
may have been misled by another appellation, often
given to the mats, which is that of stock-dove.

Unless the stock-dove in the winter varies greatly
in manners from itself in summer, no species seems
more unlikely to be domesticated, and to make a
house-dove. We very rarely see the latter settle on
trees at all, nor does it ever haunt the woods; but
the former, as long as it stays with us—from Novem-
ber perhaps to February—lives the same wild life
with the ring-dove, Paluméus torqzmz‘us; frequents
c0ppices and groves, supports itself chiefly by mast,
and delights to roost in the tallest beeches. Could it
be known in what manner stock-doves build, the
doubt would be settled with me at once, provided
they construct their nests on trees, like the ring-dove,
as I much suspect they do.

You received, you say, last spring a stock-dove

‘ from Sussex, and are informed that they sometimes
I43

breed in that county. But why did not your cor-
respondent determine the place of its nidification,
whether on rocks, cliffs, or trees? If he was not an
adroit ornithologist I should doubt the fact, because
people with us perpetually confound the stock-dove
with the ring-dove.

For my own part I readily concur with you in
supposing that house-doves are derived from the
small blue-rock pigeon, Columba limb, for many rea-
sons. In the first place the wild stock-dove is mani-
festly larger than the common house-dove, against
the usual rule of domestication, which generally
enlarges the breed. Again, those two remarkable
black spots on the 76772ng6: of each wing of the stock-
dove, which are so characteristic of the species, would
not, one should think, be totally lost by its being re-
claimed; but would often break out among its de-
scendants. But what is worth a hundred arguments
is, the instance you give in Sir Roger Mostyn’s house-
doves in Caernarvonshire; which, though tempted
by plenty of food and gentle treatment, can never be
prevailed on to inhabit their cote for any time; but
as soon as they begin to breed, betake themselves to
the fastnesses of Ormshead, and deposit their young
in safety amidst the inaccessible caverns and preci-
pices of that stupendous promontory. “You may
drive nature out with a pitchfork, but she will always
return : "

“ Naturam expellas furcfi . . . tamen usque recurret."

I44

I have consulted a sportsman, now in his seventy-
eighth year, who tells me that fifty or sixty years
back, when the beechen woods were much more ex-
tensive than at present, the number of wood-pigeons
was astonishing; that he has often killed near twenty
in a day; and that with a long wild-fowl piece he has
shot seven or eight at a time on the wing as they
came wheeling over his head; he moreover adds,
which I was not aware of, that often there were
among them little parties of small blue doves, which
he calls rockiers. The food of these numberless emi-
grants was beech-mast and some acorns; and partic-
ularly barley, which they collected in the stubbles.
But of late years, since the vast increase of turnips,
that vegetable has furnished a great part of their sup—
port in hard weather; and the holes they pick in
these roots greatly damage the crop. From this food
their flesh has contracted a rancidness which occa-
sions them to be rejected by nicer judges of eating,
who thought them before a delicate dish. They were
shot not only as they were feeding in the fields, and
especially in snowy weather, but also at the close of
the evening, by men who lay in ambush among the
woods and groves, to kill them as they came in to
roost. These are the principal circumstances relat-
ing to this wonderful internal migration, which with
us takes place towards the end of November, and
ceases early in the spring. Last winter we had in

Selborne high-wood about a hundred of these doves;
‘ 27 I45 '

but in former times the flocks were so vast, not only
with us but all the district round, that on mornings
and evenings they traversed the air, like rooks, in
strings, reaching for a mile together. When they
thus rendezvoused here by thousands, if they hap-
pened to he suddenly roused from their roost-trees
on an evening,

“ Their rising all at once was like the sound
Of thunder heard remote."

It will by no means be foreign to the present pur-
pose to add, that I had a relation in this neighbour-
hood who made it a practice, for a time, whenever
he could procure the eggs of a ring-dove, to place
them under a pair of doves that were sitting in his
own pigeon-house; hoping thereby, if he could bring
about a coalition, to enlarge his breed, and teach his
own doves to beat out into the woods and to sup-
port themselves by mast; the plan was plausible,
but something always interrupted the success; for
though the birds were usually hatched, and some-
times grew to half their size, yet none ever arrived at
maturity. I myself have seen these foundlings in
their nest displaying a strange ferocity of nature, so
as scarcely to bear to be looked at, and snapping with
their bills by way of menace. In short, they always
died, perhaps from want of proper sustenance; but
the owner thought that by their fierce and wild de-
meanour they frighted their foster-mothers, and so

were starved.
I46

Virgil, as a familiar occurrence, by way of simile,
describes a dove haunting the cavern of a rock in
such engaging numbers, that I cannot refrain from
quoting the passage :—

“ Qualis spelunca subito commota Columba,
Cui domus, et dulces latebroso in pumice nidi,
Fertul in arva volans, plausumque exterrita pennis
Dat tecto ingentem—mox aere lapsa quieto,

Radit iter liquidum, celeres neque commovet alas."
(VIRG. En. v. 213—217.) —

“ As when a dove her rocky hold forsakes,

Roused, in a fright her sounding wings she shakes ;

The cavern rings with clattering :—out she flies,

And leaves her callow care, and cleaves the skies;

At first she flutters :—but at length she springs

To smoother flight, and shoots upon her wings.”
(DRYDEN’S Translation.)

SELBORNE, Nov. 30, I780.

LETTER XCV.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

I HAVE now read your miscellanies through with
much care and satisfaction; and am to return you
my best thanks for the honourable mention made in
them of me as a naturalist, which I wish I may
deserve.

In some former letters I‘ expressed my suspicions
that many of the house-martins do not depart in the

winter far from this village. I therefore determined
‘ I47

to make some search about the south-east end of the
hill, where I imagined they might slumber out the
uncomfortable months of winter. But supposing
that the examination would be made to the best ad-
vantage in the spring, and observing that no martins
had appeared by the 11th of April last, on that day I
employed some men to explore the shrubs and cavi-
ties of the suspected spot. The persons took pains,
but without any success; however, a remarkable in-
cident occurred in the midst of our pursuit—while
the labourers were at work a house-martin, the first
that had been seen this year, came down the village
in the sight of several people, and went at once into
a nest, where it stayed at short time, and then flew
over the houses; for some days after no martins
were observed, not till the 16th of April, and then
only a pair. Martins in general were remarkably
late this year.
“— — — —daffodils

That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty."

SELBORNE, Sept. 3, 1781.

I48

LETTER XCVI.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

I HAVE just met with a circumstance respecting
swifts which furnishes an exception to the whole
tenor of my observations ever since I have bestowed
any attention on that species of Izz'runa’z'nes. Our
swifts, in general, withdrew this year about the first
day of August, all save one pair, which in two or
three days was reduced to a single bird. The per-
severance of this individual made me suspect that
the strongest of motives, that of an attachment to
her young, could alone occasion so late a stay. I
watched therefore till the 24th of August, and then
discovered that under the eaves of the church she
attended upon two young, which were fledged, and
now put out their white chins from a crevice. These
remained till the 27th, looking more alert every day,
and seeming to long to be on the wing. After this
day they were missing at once; nor could I ever
observe them with their dam coursing round the
church in the act of learning to fly, as the first broods
evidently do. On the 31st I caused the eaves to be
searched; but we found in the nest only two callow,
dead, stinking swifts, on which a second nest had
been formed. This double nest was full of the black
Shining cases of the Hz’ppoboscw lairundz'nz's.

The following remarks on this unusual incident
I49

are obvious. The first is, that though it may be dis-
agreeable to swifts to remain beyond the beginning
of August, yet that they can subsist longer is unde-
niable. The second is, that this uncommon event, as
it was owing to the loss of the first brood, so it cor-
roborates my former remark, that swifts breed regu-
larly but once; since, was the contrary the case, the
occurrence above could neither be new nor rare.

P. S.—One swift was seen at Lyndon, in the
county of Rutland, in 1780, so late as the 3rd of
September.

SELBORNE, Sept. 9, I781.

LETTER XCVII.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

AS I have sometimes known you make inquiries
about several kinds of insects, I shall here send you
an account of one sort which I little expected to
have found in this kingdom. I have often observed
that one particular part of a vine growing on the
walls of my house was covered in the autumn with
a black dust-like appearance, on which the flies fed
eagerly; and that the shoots and leaves thus affected
did not thrive ; nor did the fruit ripen. To this sub-
stance I applied my glasses; but could not discover

that it had anything to do with animal life, as I at
150

first expected: but, upon a closer examination be-
hind the larger boughs, we were surprised to find
that they were coated over with husky shells, from
whose sides proceeded a cotton—like substance, sur-
rounding a multitude of eggs. This curious and un-
common production put me upon recollecting what
I have heard and read concerning the Cocczcs 2122‘qu
vz'm'fcrw of Linnaeus, which, in the south of Europe,
infests many vines, and is a horrid and loathsome
pest. As soon as I had turned to the accounts given
of this insect, I saw at once that it swarmed on my
vine; and did not appear to have been at all checked
by the preceding winter, which had been uncommon-
ly severe. .

Not being then at all aware that it had anything
to do with England, 1 was much inclined to think
that it came from Gibraltar among the many boxes
and packages of plants and birds which I had former-
1y received from thence; and especially as the vine
infested grew immediately under my study window,
where I usually kept my specimens. True it is that
I had received nothing from thence for some years;
but as insects are, we know, conveyed from one
country to another in a very unexpected manner,
and have a wonderful power of maintaining their
existence till they fall into a 7zz'a’us proper for their
support and increase, I cannot but suspect still that
these coccz' came to me originally from Andalusia.

Yet, all the while, candour obliges me to confess
151

that Mr. Lightioot has written me word that he
once, and but once, saw these insects on a Vine at
Weymouth in Dorsetshire; which, it is here to be
observed, is a sea-port town, to which the corms
might be conveyed by shipping.

As many of my readers may possibly never have
heard of this strange and unusual insect, I shall here
transcribe a passage from a natural history of Gi-
braltar, written by the Reverend John White, late
vicar of Blackburn in Lancashire, but not yet pub-
lished:—

“ In the year 1770 a vine which grew on the east
side of my house, and which had produced the finest
crops of grapes for years past, was suddenly over-
spread on all the woody branches with large lumps
of a white fibrous substance resembling spiders’
wehs, or rather raw cotton. It was of a very clam-
my quality, sticking fast to everything that touched
it, and capable of being spun into long threads. At
first I suspected it to be the product of spiders, but
could find none. Nothing was to be seen connected
with it but many brown oval husky shells, which by
no means looked like insects, but rather resembled
hits of the dry bark of the vine. The tree had a
plentiful crop of grapes set, when this pest appeared
upon it; but; the fruit was manifestly injured by
this foul incumbrance. It remained all the summer,
still increasing, and loaded the woody and bearing

branches to a vast degree. Ioiten pulled off great
152

quantities by handfuls: but it was so slimy and tena-
cious that it could by no means be cleared. The
grapes never filled to their natural perfection, but
turned watery and vapid. Upon perusing the works
afterwards of M. de Reaumur, I found this matter
perfectly described and accounted for. Those husky
shells, which I had observed, were no other than the
female coccm, from whose sides this cotton-like sub-
stance exudes, and serves as a covering and security
for their eggs.”

To this account I think prOper to add, that,
though the female coccz' are stationary, and seldom
remove from the place to which they stick, yet the
male is a‘ winged insect; and that the black dust
which I saw was undoubtedly the excrement of the
females, which is eaten by ants as well as flies.
Though the utmost severity of our winter did not
destroy these insects, yet the attention of the gar—
dener in a summer or two has entirely relieved my
vine from this‘filthy annoyance.

As we have remarked above that insects are often
conveyed from one country to another in a very un—
accountable manner, I shall here mention an emigra-
tion of small ap/zz'cz’cs, which was observed in the
village of Selborne no longer ago than August the
Ist, 1785.

At about three o’clock in the afternoon of that
day, which was very hot, the people of this village

were surprised by a shower of ap/zz'cz’cs, or smother-
I53

tlies, which fell in these parts. Those that were
walking in the streets at that juncture found them-
selves covered with these insects, which settled also
on the hedges and gardens, blackening all the vege-
tables where they alighted. My annuals were dis-
coloured with them, and the stalks of a bed of onions
were quite coated over for six days after. These
armies were then, no doubt, in a state of emigration,
and shifting their quarters; and might have come, as
far as we know, from the great hop-plantations of
Kent. or Sussex, the wind being all that day in the
easterly quarter. They were observed at the same
time in great clouds about Farnham, and all along
the vale from Farnham to Alton.*

Sl'll.l£()l(NI£, fl/(UT/l t), 1775.

LET'I‘ER XCVIII.1'

'l‘o 'rur, l’l()N()l’Rz\l’.l.l’. I)A1Ni«:s BARRINC'I‘ON.

VVIHCN I happen to visit a family where gold and
silver tishes are kept: in a glass bowl I am always
pleased with the occurrence, because it offers me an

opportunity of observing the actions and propensities
* For various methods by which several insects shift their quarters,
see lh-rham's “ l’hysicti-'l‘ht-ology."
1- First published in the (I'm/{mum’s fl/agazz'ne for 1786, under the
signature V.
154

 

A ”nu/yr)! u/IMI'IW af nature.

of those beings with whom I can be little acquainted
in their natural state. Not long since I spent a fort.
night at the house of a friend where there was such a
m'wrz'um, to which I paid no small attention, taking
every occasion to remark what passed within its
narrow limits. It was here that I first obserVed the
manner in which fishes die. As soon as the creature
sickens, the head sinks lower and lower, and it stands
as it were on its head ; till, getting weaker, and los-
ing all poise, the tail turns over, and at last it floats
on the surface of the water with its belly uppermost.
The reason why fishes, when dead, swim in that
manner is very obvious; because, when the body is
no longer balanced by the fins of the belly, the broad
muscular back preponderates by its own gravity,
and turns the belly uppermost, as lighter from its
being a cavity, and because it contains the swimming-
bladders, which contribute to render it buoyant.
Some that delight in gold and silver fishes have
adopted a notion that they need no aliment. True it
is that they will subsist for a long time without any
apparent food but what they can collect from pure
water frequently changed ; yet they must draw some
support from animalcula, and other nourishments
supplied by the water; because, though they seem to
eat nothing, yet the consequences of eating often
drop from them. That they are best pleased with
such jejune diet may easily be confuted, since if you

toss them crumbs they will seize them with great
I55

readiness, not to say greediness; however, bread
should be given sparingly, lest, turning sour, it
corrupt the water. They will also feed on the
water-plant called [mma (duck’s meat), and also on
small fry. .

When they want to move a little they gently
protrude themselves with theirpz'mzwpcctom/e’s; but
it is with their strong muscular tails only that they
and all fishes shoot along with such inconceivable
rapidity. It has been said that the eyes of fishes are
immovable; but these apparently turn them forward
or backward in their sockets as their occasions re-
quire. They take little notice of a lighted candle,
though applied close to their heads, but fiounce and
seem much frightened by a sudden stroke of the
hand against the support whereon the bowl is hung;
especially when they have been motionless, and are
perhaps asleep. As fishes have no eyelids, it is not
easy to discern when they are sleeping or not, be-
cause their eyes are always Open. Nothing can be
more amusing than a glass bowl containing such
fishes: the double refractions of the glass and water
represent them, when moving, in a shifting and
changeable variety of dimensions, shades, and col-
ours; while the two mediums, assisted by the con-
cavo-convex shape of the vessel, magnify and distort
them vastly: not to mention that the introduction
of another element and its inhabitants into our par-

lours engages the fancy in a very agreeable manner.
156

Gold and silver fishes, though originally natives
. of China and Japan, yet are become so well reconciled
to our climate as to thrive and multiply very fast in
our ponds and stews. Linnaeus ranks this species of
fish under the genus of cyprz'nus, or carp, and calls it
Cyprz’nus auratus.

Some people exhibit this sort of fish in a very
fanciful way; for they cause a glass bowl to be
blown with a large hollow space within, that does not
communicate with it. In this cavity they put a bird
occasionally; so that you may see a goldfinch or a
linnet hopping as it were in the midst of the water,
and the fishes swimming in a circle round it. The
simple exhibition of the fishes is agreeable and pleas-
ant; but in so complicated a way they become
Whimsical and unnatural, and liable to the objection
due to him “who loves to vary every single thing
prodigiously ”—

“ Qui variare cupit rem prodigialitér unam.”
(HOR. Am. Poet. 29.)

LETTER XCIX.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

ITHINK I have observed before, that much the
most considerable part of the house-martins with-

draw from hence about the first week in October; but
I57 ‘

that some, the latter broods I am now convinced,
linger on till towards the middle of that month: and
that at times, once perhaps in two or three years, a
flight, for one day only, has shown itself in the first
week in November.

Having taken notice, in October 1780, that the
last flight was numerous, amounting perhaps to one
hundred and fifty, and that the season was soft and
still, I was resolved to pay uncommon attention to
those late birds: to find, if possible, where they
roosted, and to determine the precise time of their
retreat. The mode of life of these latter kz'rztiza’z'zze’s is
very favourable to such a design; for they spend the
whole day in the sheltered district between me and
the I'Ianger, sailing about in a placid, easy manner,
and feasting on those insects which love to haunt a
spot so secure from rufiling winds. As my principal
object was to discover the place of their roosting, I
took care to wait on them before they retired to rest,
and was much pleased to find that, for several even-
ings together, just at a quarter-past five in the after-
noon, they all scudded away in great haste towards
the south-east, and darted down among the low
shrubs above the cottages at the end of the hill.
This spot in many respects seems to be well calcu—
lated for their winter residence: for in many parts
it is as steep as the roof of any house, and therefore
secure from the annoyances of water; and it is more-

over clothed with beechen shrubs, which, being
158

stunted and bitten by sheep, make the thickest
covert imaginable; they are so entangled as to be
impervious to the smallest spaniel: besides, it is the
nature of underwood beech never to cast'its leaf all
the winter; so that, with the leaves on the ground
and those on the twigs, no shelter can be more com-
plete. Iwatched them on to the 13th and 14th of
October, and found their evening retreat was exact
and uniform; but after this they made no regular
appearance. Now and then a straggler was seen;
and on the 22nd of October, in the morning, I ob-
served two over the village, and with them my
remarks for the season ended.

From all these circumstances put together, it is
more than probable that this lingering flight, at so
late a season of the year, never departed from the
island. Had they indulged' me that autumn with a
November Visit, asI much desired, I presume that,
with proper assistants, I should have settled the
matter past all doubt; but though the 3rd of No-
vember was a sweet day, and in appearance exactly
suited to my wishes, yet not a martin was to be
seen; and so I was forced reluctantly to give up the
pursuit.

I have only to add, that, were the bushes, which
cover some acres, and are not my own property, to
be grubbed and carefully examined, probably those
late broods, and perhaps the whole aggregate body

of the house—martins of this district, might be found
28 I59

there, in different secret dormitories; and that, so far
from withdrawing into warmer climes, it would ap-
pear that they never depart three hundred yards

from the village.

Octal/er 10, I 78 I.

LETTER C.
To THE HUNDURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

THEY who write on natural history cannot too
frequently advert to instinct, that wonderful, but
limited faculty, which, in some instances, raises the
brute creation as it were above reason, and in others
leaves them so far below it. Philosophers have de-
fined instinct to be that secret influence by which
every species is impelled naturally to pursue, at all
times, the same way or track, without any teaching
or example; whereas reason, without instruction,
would lead them to do that by many methods which
instinct effects by one alone. Now this maxim must
be taken in a qualified sense ; for there are instances
in which instinct does vary and conform to the cir-
cumstances of place and convenience.

It has been remarked that every species of bird
has a mode of nidification peculiar to itself; so that a
schoolboy would at once pronounce on the sort of
nest before him. This is the case among fields and

woods, and wilds ; but in the villages round London,
160

where mosses and gossamer, and cotton from vege-
tables, are hardly to be found, the nest of the chaf-
finch has not that elegant finished appearance, nor is
it so beautifully studded with lichens, as in a more
rural district: and the wren is obliged to construct
its house with straws and dry grasses, which do not
give it that rotundity and compactness so remark—
able in the edifices of that little architect. Again,
the regular nest of the house-martin is hemispheric;
but where a rafter, or a joist, or a cornice, may hap-
pen to stand in the way, the nest is so contrived as
to conform to the obstruction, and becomes flat or
oval, or compressed. ‘

In the following instances instinct is perfectly
uniform and consistent. There are three creatures,
the squirrel, the field-mouse, and the bird called the
nut-hatch (Sz'tz‘a Euro/flea), which live much on hazel-
nuts; and yet they open them each in a different
way. The first, after rasping off the small end, splits
the shell in two with his long fore-teeth, as a man
does with his knife; the second nibbles a hole with
his teeth, as regular as if drilled with a wimble, and
yet so small that one would wonder how the kernel
can be extracted through it ; while the last picks an
irregular ragged hole with its bill : but as this artist
has no paws to hold the nut firm while he pierces it,
like an adroit workman, he fixes it, as it were in a
vice, in some cleft of a tree, or in some crevice:

when, standing over it, he perforates the stubborn
161

shell. We have often placed nuts in the chink of a
gate-post where nut-hatches have been known to
haunt, and have always found that those birds have
readily penetrated them. While at work they make
a rapping noise, that may be heard at a considerable
distance.

You that understand both the theory and prac-
tical part of music may best inform us why harmony
or melody should so strangely affect some men, as it
were by recollection, for days after a concert is over.
What I mean the following passage will explain :—

“ l’raehabebat porro vocibus humanis, instrumen-
tisque harmonicis musicam illam avium: non quod
alift quoque non (lelectaretur; sed quod ex musica
humana rclinqueret‘ur in animo contincns quaedam,
attentionemque et somnum conturbans agitatio; dum
ascensus, cxscensus, tenorcs, ac mutationes illae sono-
rum, et'. const)nantiarum euntque, redeuntque per
phantasiam :———cum nihil tale relinqui possit ex modu-
lationibus avium, quze, quod non sunt perinde a nobis
imitabiles, non possunt perinde internam facultatem

Com movcre.’ '— (fa.s‘.s‘('/m’//.s‘. 'X‘

 

* “ lle preferred the music of birds to vocal and instrumental har-
mony, not that he did not take pleasure in any other, but because the
latter left in the mind some constant agitation, disturbing the sleep and
the attention ; whilst the several variations of sound and concord go and
return through the imagination ; whereas no such effect can be produced
by the modulation of birds, because, as they are not equally imitable by
us, they cannot equally excite the internal faculty."——Gamma/us in Me
[I]? (If l’c'h’c'xt‘.

162

This curious quotation strikes me much by so
well representing my own case, and by describing
what I have so often felt, but never could so well
express. When I hear fine music I am haunted with
passages therefrom night and day ; and especially at
first waking, which, by their importunity, give me
more uneasiness than pleasure: elegant lessons still
tease my imagination, and recur irresistibly to my
recollection at seasons, and even when I am desirous
of thinking- of more serious matters.

LETTER CI.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

A RARE, and I think a new, little bird frequents
my garden, which I have great reason to think is the
pettichaps:* it is common in Some parts of the king-
dom ; and I have received formerly several dead
specimens from Gibraltar. This bird much resem-
bles the white-throat. but has a more white or silvery
breast and belly ; is restless and active, like the willow-
wrens, and hops from bough to bough, examining
every part for food ; it also runs up the stems of the

 

* Lesser white-throat (.Sjl/m'a currztra, Temm.), and not the petti-
chaps ; the song is very sweet, and more perfect in its notes than that of
the white-throat: it is shy, wary, and even petulant in avoidingintruders.

163

crown-imperials, and putting its head into the bells
of those flowers, sips the liquor which stands in the
nectarz‘um of each petal. Sometimes it feeds on the
ground, like the hedge-sparrow, hopping about on
the grass-plots and mown walks.

One of my neighbours, an intelligent and observ-
ing man, informs me, that, in the beginning of May,
and about ten minutes before eight o’clock in the
evening, he discovered a great cluster of house-
swallows, thirty at least, he supposes, perching on a
willow that hung over James Knight’s upper-pond.
His attention was first drawn by the twittering of
these birds, which sat motionless in a row on the
bough, with theiriheads all one way, and, by their
weight, pressing down the twig so that it nearly
touched the water. In this situation he watched
them till he could see no longer. Repeated accounts
of this sort, in spring and fall, induce me greatly to
suspect that house-swallows have some strong attach-
ment to water, independent of the matter of food;
and, though they may not retire into that element,
yet they may conceal themselves in the banks of
pools and rivers during the uncomfortable months of
winter.

One of the keepers of Wolmer Forest sent me a
peregrine-falcon, which he shot on the verge of that
district, as it was devouring a wood-pigeon. The
Falco pcregrz’nus, or haggard falcon, is a noble species

of hawk seldom seen in the southern counties. In
164

the winter of 1767 one was killed in the neighbouring
parish of Farringdon, and sent by me to Mr. Pennant

 

A peregi inc-falcon.

into North Wales.* Since that time I have met with
none till now. The specimen mentioned above was
in fine preservation, and not injured by the shot: it
‘ measured forty-two inches from wing to wing, and
twenty-one from beak to tail, and weighed two
' pounds and a half standard weight. This Species is
very robust, and wonderfully formed for rapine: its
breast was plump and muscular; its thighs long,
thick, and brawny; and its legs remarkably short

 

* See my Tenth and Eleventh Letters, vol. i., pages 40 and 42.
165

and well set: the feet were armed with most for-
midable sharp, long talons: the eyelids and cere of
the bill were yellow; but the irides of the eyes
dusky; the beak was thick and hooked, and of a
dark colour, and had a jagged process near the end
of the upper mandible on each side : its tail, or train,
was short in proportion to the bulk of its body : yet
the wings, when closed, did not extend to the end of
the train. From its large and fair proportions it
might be supposed to have been a female ; but I. was
not permitted to cut open the specimen. For one of
the birds of prey, which are usually lean, this was
in high case: in its craw were many barley-corns,
which probably came from the crop of the wood-
pigeon, on which it was feeding when shot: for
voracious birds do not eat grain ; but, when devour-
ing their quarry, with undistinguishing vehemence
they swallow bones and feathers, and all matters,
indiscriminately. This falcon was probably driven
from the mountains of North Wales or Scotland,
where they are known to breed, by rigorous weather
and the deep snows that had lately fallen.

I66

LETTER CII.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

MY near. neighbour, a young gentleman in the
service of the East India Company, has brought
home a dog and a bitch of the Chinese breed from
Canton; such as are fattened in that country for the
purpose of being eaten: they are about the size of
a moderate spaniel; of a pale yellow colour, with
coarse bristling hairs on their backs; sharp upright
ears, and peaked heads, which give them a very
fox-like appearance. Their hind legs are unusually
straight,-without any bend at the hock or ham, to
such a degree as to give them an awkward gait
when they trot. When they are in motion, their
tails are curved high over their backs like those of
some hounds; they have a bare place each on the
outside from the tip midway, that does not seem to
be matter of accident, but is somewhat singular.
Their eyes are jet black, small, and piercing; the
insides oftheir lips and mouths of the same colour,
and. their tongues blue. The bitch has a dew-claw
on each hind leg; the dog has none. When taken
out into the field, the bitch showed some disposition
for hunting, and dwelt on the scent of a covey of
partridges, till she sprung them, giving tongue all
the time. The dogs in South America are dumb;

but these bark much in a short thick manner, like
167

foxes; and have a surly, savage demeanour like
their ancestors, which are not domesticated, but
bred up in sties, where they are fed for the table,
with rice-meal, and other larinaceous food. These
dogs having been taken on board as soon as weaned,
Could not learn much from their dam; yet they did
not relish flesh when they came to England. In the
islands of the Pacific Ocean the dogs are bred up on
vegetables, and would not eat flesh when offered
them by our circumnavigators.

We believe that all dogs, in a state of nature,
have sharp, upright, fox-like ears; and. that hanging
cars, which are esteemed so graceful, are the effect
of choice breeding and cultivation. Thus, in the
travels of Ysbrandt Ides from Muscovy to China,
the dogs which draw the Tartars on snow-sledges
near the river Obey are engraved with prick-ears,
like those from Canton. The Kamschatdales also
train the same sort of sharp-eared peak-nosed dogs
to draw their sledges; as may be seen in an elegant
print engraved for Captain Cook’s last voyage round
the world.

Now we are upon the subject of dogs, it may not
be impertinent to add, that spaniels, as all sportsmen
know, though they hunt partridges and pheasants
as it were by instinct, and with much delight and
alacrity, yet will hardly touch their bones when
offered as food; nor will a mongrel dog of my own,

though he is remarkable for finding that sort of
168

game. But, when we came to ofier the bones of
partridges to the .two Chinese dogs, they devoured
them with much greediness, and licked the platter
clean.

No sporting dog will flush woodcocks till inured
to the scent and trained to the sport, which they
then pursue with vehemence and transport; but
then they will not touch their bones, but turn from
them with abhorrence, even when they are hungry.

Now, that dogs should not be fond of the bones
of such birds as they are not disposed to hunt is no
wonder; but why they reject, and do not care to
eat their natural game, is not so easily accounted
for, since the end of hunting seems to be, that the
chase pursued should be eaten. Dogs again will
not devour the more rancid water-fowls, nor indeed
the bones of any wild fowl; nor will they touch the
foetid bodies of birds that feed on offal and garbage:
and indeed there may be somewhat of providential
instinct in this circumstance of dislike; for vultures,*
and kites, and ravens, and crows, &c. were intended
to be messmates with dogs over their carrion; and
seem to be appointed by Nature as fellow-scaven-
gers to remove all cadaverous nuisances from the

face of the earth.

SELBORNE.

 

* Hasselquist, in his “ Travels to the Levant,” observes that the dogs
and vultures at Grand Cairo maintain such a friendly intercourse as to
bring up their young together in the same place.

169

LETTER CIII.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

THE fossil wood buried in the bogs of Wolmer
Forest is not yet all exhausted, for the peat-cutters
now and then stumble upon a log. I have just seen
a piece which was sent by a labourer of Oakhanger
to a carpenter of this village; this was the butt-end
of a small oak, about five feet long, and about five
inches in diameter. It had apparently been severed
from the ground by an axe, was very ponderous, and
as black as ebony. Upon asking the carpenter for
what purpose he had procured it, he told me that it
was to be sent to his brother, a joiner, at Farnham,
who was‘to make use of it in cabinet-work, by inlay-
ing it along-with whitenwoods.

Those that are much abroad on evenings after it
is dark, in spring and summer, frequently hear a
nocturnal bird passing by on the wing, and repeating
often a short quick note. This bird I have remarked
myself, but never could make out till lately. Iam
assured now that it is the stone-curlew (Clearaa’rz'us
ozdz'mzemus). Some of them pass over or near my.
house almost every evening after it is dark: from
the uplands of the hill and North field, away down
towards Dorton, where, among the streams and
meadows, they find a greater plenty of food. Birds

that fly by night are obliged to be noisy; their notes
I70

 

.N‘ZHSE .:\.§:\\. 4

’y» s)

 

g‘--__.« _‘.._n.._ ,.

,.

 

 

 

often repeated become signals or watch-words to
keep them together, that they may not stray or lose
each other in the dark.

The evening proceedings and manoeuvres of rooks
are curious and amusing in the autumn. Just before
dusk they return in long strings from the foraging
of the day, and rendezvous by thousands over Sel-
borne-down, where they wheel round in the air, and
sport, and dive, in a playful manner, all the while
exerting their voices, and making a loud cawing,
which,pbeing blended and softened by the distance
that we at the village are below them, becomes a
confused noise or chiding; or rather a pleasing mur-
mur, very engaging to the imagination, and not un-
like the cry of a pack of hounds in hollow, echoing
woods; or the rushing of the wind in tall trees, or
the tumbling of the tide upon a pebbly shore. When
this ceremony is over, with the last gleam of day,
they retire for the night to the deep beechen woods
of Tisted and Ropley. We remember a little girl
who, as she was going to bed, used to remark on
such an occurrence, in the true spirit of physico-
theology, that the rooks were saying their prayers;
and yet this child was much too young to be aware
that the Scriptures have said of the Deity—that “ He
feedeth the ravens who call upon Him.”

I7I

LETTER CIV.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

IN reading Dr. Huxham’s Observafz'mzes a’e Aé're,
&c., written at Plymouth, 1 find by those curious
and accurate remarks which contain an account of
the weather from the year 1727 to the year 1748, in-
clusive, that though there is frequent rain in that dis-
trict of Devonshire, yet the quantity falling is not
great; and that some years it has been very small:
for in 1731 the rain measured only wink—266110“.
and in 1741, 20-—354; and again in 1743 only 20—908.
Places near the sea have frequent scuds that keep
the atmosphere moist, yet do not reach far up into
the country; making thus the maritime situations
appear wet, when the rain is not considerable. In
the wettest years at Plymouth, the Doctor measured
only once 36; and again once, viz. I734, 37—II4: a
quantity of rain that has twice been exceeded at
Selborne in the short period of my observations.
Dr. Huxham remarks, that frequent small rains keep
the air moist; while heavy ones render it more dry,
by beating down the vapours. He is also of opin-
ion that the dingy, smoky appearance in the sky, in
very dry seasons, arises from the want of moisture
sufficient to let the light through, and render the
atmosphere transparent; because he had observed

several bodies more diaphanous when wet than dry;
I72

and never recollected that the air had that look in
rainy seasons.

My friend, who lives just beyond the top of the
town, brought his three swivel guns to try them in
my outlet, with their muzzles towards the Hanger,
supposing that the report would have had a great
effect; .but the experiment did not answer his expec- '
tation. He then removed them to the Alcove on the
Hanger; when the sound, rushing along the Lythe
and Combwood, was very grand: but it was at the
Hermitage that the echoes and the repercussions
most delighted the hearers; not only filling the
Lythe with the roar, as if all the beeches were
tearing up by the roots; but, turning to the left,
they pervaded the vale above Combwood-ponds;
. and after a pause seemed to take up the crash again,
and to extend round Harteley-hangers, dying away
at last among the coppices and coverts of Wardle-
ham. It has been remarked before that this district
is an anal/202%, a place of responses or echoes, and
therefore proper for such experiments: we may far-
ther add that the pauses in echoes, when they cease
:and yet are taken up again, like the pauses in music,
surprise the hearers, and have a fine effect on the
imagination.

The gentleman above mentioned has just fixed a
barometer in his parlour at Newton Valence. The
tube was first filled here (at Selborne) twice with

care, when the mercury agreed and stood exactly
29 I73

with my own: but, being filled again twice at New—
ton, the mercury stood. on account of the great ele-
vation of that house, three-tenths of an inch lower
than the barometers at this village, and so it con—
tinues to do, be the weight of the atmosphere what
it may. The plate of the barometer at Newton is
figured as low as 27 ; because in stormy weather the
.._\_-......_.. mercury there will

. , _ sometimes descend
l below 28. “'6 have
i V I supposed Newton—
house to stand two
hundred feet higher
than this house: but
if the rule holds
good, which says
that mercury in a
barometer sinks one-
tenth of an inch for
every hundred feet
elevation, then the-
Newton barometer.
by standing three-
tenths lower than
that of Selborne,
proves that Newton-

 

T/It’ lna‘w’ of Sr/lmrn! t/Im't/l.

house must be three
hundred feet higher than that in which I am writ-

ing. instead of two hundred.
I74

It may not be impertinent to add, that the ba-
rometers at Selborne stand three-tenths of an inch
below the barometers at South Lambeth; whence
we may conclude that the former place is about
three hundred feet higher than the latter; and with
good reason, because the streams that rise with us
run into the Thames at Weybridge, and so to Lon-
don. Of course therefore there must be lower
ground all the way from Selborne to South Lam-
beth; the distance between which, all the windings
and indentings of the streams considered, cannot be
less than a hundred miles.

LETTER CV.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

SINCE the weather of a district is undoubtedly
part of its natural history, I shall make no further
apology for the four following letters, which will
contain many particulars. Concerning some of the
great frosts, and a. few respecting some very hot
summers, that have distinguished themselves from
the rest during the course of my observations.

As the frost in January 1768 was, for the small
_ time it lasted, the most severe that we had then
known for many years, and was remarkably injurious

to evergreens, some account of its rigour, and reason
I75

of its ravages, may be useful, and not unacceptable
to persons that delight in planting and ornamenting;
and may particularly become a work that professes
never to lose sight of utility.

For the last two or three days of the former year
there were considerable falls of snow, which lay deep
and uniform on the ground, without any drifting;
wrapping up the more humble vegetation in perfect
security. From the first day to the fifth of the new
year, more snow succeeded; but from that day the
air became entirely clear; and the heat of the sun
about noon had considerable influence in sheltered
situations.

It was in such an aspect that the snow on the
author’s evergreens was melted every day, and
frozen intensely every night; so that the laurus-
tines, bays, laurels, and arbutuses looked, in three or
four days, as if they had been burnt in the fire;
while a neigbour’s plantation of the same kind, in a
high cold situation, where the snow never melted
at all, remained uninjured.

From hence I would infer that it. is the repeated
melting and freezing of the snow that is so fatal to
vegetation, rather than the severity of the cold.
Therefore it highly behoves every planter who
wishes to escape the cruel mortification of losing
in a few days the labour and hopes of years, to
bestir himself on such emergencies; and, if his plan-

tations are small, to avail himself of mats, cloths,
I76

peasehaum, straw, reeds, or any such covering, for a
short time; or, if his shrubberies are extensive, to
see that his people go about with prongs and forks,
and carefully dislodge the snow from the boughs:
since the naked foliage will shift much better for
itself than when the snow is partly melted and frozen
again.

It may perhaps appear at first like a paradox;
but doubtless the more tender trees and shrubs
should never be planted in hot aspects; not only for
the reason assigned above, but also because, thus
circumstanced, they are disposed to shoot earlier in
the spring, and to grow on later in the autumn, than
they would otherwise do, and so are sufferers by
lagging or early frosts. For this reason also, plants
from Siberia will hardly endure our climate: be-
cause, on the very first advances of spring, they
shoot away, and so are cut off by the severe nights
of March or April.

Dr. Fothergill and others have experienced the
same inconvenience with respect to the more tender
shrubs from North America; which they therefore
plant under north walls. There should also, per-
haps, be a wall to the. east, to defend them from the
piercing blasts from that quarter.

This observation might without any impropriety
be carried into animal life; for discerning bee-mas-
ters now find that their hives should not in the win-

ter be exposed to the hot sun, because such unsea-
I77

sonable warmth awakens the inhabitants too early
from their slumbers; and, by putting their juices
into motion too soon, subjects them afterwards to
inconveniences when rigorous weather returns.

The coincidents attending this short but intense
frost, were, that the horses fell sick with an epidemic
distemper, which injured the wind of many, and
killed some; that colds and coughs were general
among the human species; that it froze under peo-
ple’s beds for several nights; that meat was frozen
so hard that it could not be spitted, and could not
be secured but in cellars ; that several redwings and
thrushes were killed by the frost; and that the
large titmouse continued to pull straws lengthwise
from the eaves of thatched houses and barns in a
most adroit manner, for a purpose that has been ex-
plained already.*

On the 3rd of January, Benjamin Martin’s ther-
mometer within doors, in a close parlour where there
was no fire, fell in the night to 20, and on the 4th to
18, and on the 7th to 17%, a degree of cold which
the owner never observed in the same situation;
and he regrets much that he was not able at that
juncture to attend his instrument abroad. All this
time the wind continued north and north-east; and
yet on the 8th roost-cocks, which had been silent,
began to sound their clarions, and crow with clam-

 

* See Letter LXI. to Mr. Pennant, vol. ii., p. 30.
I78

our, as prognostic of milder weather; moles. also
began to heave and work, and a manifest thaw took
place. From the latter circumstance we may con-
clude that thaws often originate under ground from
warm vapours which arise; else how should subter-
raneous animals receive such early intimations of
their approach? Moreover, we have often observed
that cold seems to descend from above; for, when
a thermometer hangs abroad in a frosty night, the
intervention of a cloud * shall immediately raise the
mercury ten degrees: and a clear sky shall again
compel it to descend to its former gage.

And here it may be proper to observe, on what
has been said above, that though frosts advance to
their utmost severity by somewhat of a regular gra-

 

* The cloud of vapour indicates increased radiation of heat and con-
sequent evaporation where it occurs; as the clear sky is indicative of
their absence. The following figures represent the temperature in the
open air, at one foot and at two feet under ground, the top figures repre-
senting the months, those below, the mean average of each during the
ten years.

 

1 2 3 4 5 ¥ 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
I ft. j4o.o7 39.4 40.90 46.47 53.11 60.02 62.85 61.80 57.54 51.13 46.05 41.13
2 ft. 141.03 40.1 41.59 46.25 52.01 58.47 61.71 . 61.26 57.89 52.79 47.28 42.83
Air. {38.2 38.1 40.49 46.57 53.34 60.45 63.40 {61.28 56.141.49.35 42.89 38.14

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It thus appears that the temperature at two feet below the surface
is 2° 33' higher than in the air in January; 10 7' in February; 0° 77’ in
March; 0° 25' in August; 1° 57’ in September; 2° 80' in October; 3°
75' in November; and 3° 84' in December. On the other hand, the
temperature is higher by 0° 21' in the open air in April; 0° 98’ in
May; 1° 21’ in June; and 1° 12' in July.

I79

dation, yet thaws do not usually come on by so
regular a declension of cold; but often take place
immediately after intense freezing; as men in sick-
ness often mend at once from a paroxysm.

To the great credit of Portugal laurels and Amer-
ican junipers, be it remembered that they remained
untouched amidst the general havoc: hence men
should learn to ornament chiefly with St ch trees as
are able to withstand accidental severiti s, and not
subject themselves to the vexation of a 1555 which
may befall them, once, perhaps, in ten years, yet may
hardly be recovered through the whole course of
their lives.

As it afterwards appeared, the ilexes were much
injured, the cypresses were half destroyed, the ar-
butuses lingered on, but never recovered; and the
bays, laurustines, and laurels were killed to the
ground, and the very wild hollies, in hot aspects,
were so much affected that they cast all their leaves.

By the 14th of January the snow was entirely
gone; the turnips emerged not damaged at all, save
in sunny places; the wheat looked delicate, and the
garden-plants were well preserved; for snow is the
most kindly mantle that infant vegetation can be
wrapped in; were it not for that friendly meteor, no
vegetable life could exist at all in northerly regions.
Yet in Sweden, the earth in April is not divested of
snow for more than a fortnight before the face of the

country is covered with flowers.
180

LETTER CVI.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

THERE were some circumstances attending the
remarkable frost in January 1776, so singular and
striking, that a short detail of them may not be un-
acceptable.

The most certain way to be exact will be to copy
the passages from my journal, which were taken from
time to time, as things occurred. But it may be
proper previously to remark, that the first week in
January was uncommonly wet, and drowned with
vast rains from every quarter: from whence it may *
be inferred, as there is great reason to believe is the
case, that intense frosts seldom take place till the
earth is perfectly glutted and chilled with water;*
and hence dry autumns are seldom followed by rig-
orous winters.

fanuary 72‘/z.—Snow driving all the day, which
was followed by frost, sleet, and some snow, till the
12th, when a prodigious mass overwhelmed all the
works of men, drifting over the tops of the gates, and
filling the‘hollow lanes.

 

* The autumn preceding January I768 was very wet, and particularly
the month of September, during which there fell at Lyndon, in the
county of Rutland, six inches and a half of rain. And the terrible long
frost in 1739—40 set in after a rainy season, and when the springs were
very high.

181

On the 14th the writer was obliged to be much
abroad; and thinks he never, before or since, has
encountered such rugged Siberian weather. Many
of the narrow roads were now filled above the tops
of the hedges; through which the snow was driven
into most romantic and grotesque shapes, sostriking
to the imagination as not to be seen without wonder
and pleasure. The poultry dared not stir out of their
roosting-places; for cocks and hens are so dazzled
and confounded by the glare of snow that they would
soon perish without assistance. The hares also lay
sullenly in their seats, and would not move till com-
pelled by hunger; being conscious, poor animals, that
the drifts and heaps treacherously betray their foot-
steps, and prove fatal to numbers of them.

From the 14th the snow continued to increase, and
began to stop the road-waggons and coaches, which
could no longer keep on their regular stages: more
especially on the western roads, where the fall ap-
pears to have been deeper than in the south. The
company at Bath, that wanted to attend the Queen’s
birthday, were strangely incommoded: the carriages
of many persons, who got on their way to town from
Bath as far as Marlborough, after strange embarrass-
ments, here met with a 723 plus ultra. The ladies
fretted, and offered large rewards to labourers if
they would shovel them a track to London: but the
relentless heaps of snow were too bulky to be re-

moved; and so the 18th passed over, leaving the
182

company in very uncomfortable circumstances at the
Castle and other inns.

On the 20th the sun shone out for the first time
since the frost began; a circumstance that has been

 

 

 

 

7715 Twat/231‘.

remarked on before as much in favour of vegetation.
All this time the cold was not very intense, for the
thermometer stood at 29. 28, 25, and thereabout: but

on the ZISt it descended to 20. The birds now be—
183

gan to be in a very pitiable and starving condition.
Tamed by the season, skylarks settled in the streets
of towns, because they saw the ground was bare;
rooks frequented dunghills close to houses; and
crows watched horses as they passed, and greedily
devoured what dropped from them; hares now came
into the gardens, and, scraping away the snow, de-
voured such plants as they could find.

On the 22nd the author had occasion to go to
London through a sort of Laplandian scene, very
wild and grotesque indeed. But the metropolis itself
exhibited a still more singular appearance than the
country; for, being bedded deep in snow, the pave-
ment of the streets could not be touched by the
wheels or the horses’ feet, so that the carriages ran
about without the least noise. Such an exemption
from din and clatter was strange, but not pleasant;
it seemed to convey an uncomfortable idea of deso-
lation:

— — — — — — ipsa silentia terrent.”
“ By silence terrified.”

On the 27th much snow fell all day, and in the
evening the frost became very intense. At South
Lambeth, for the four following nights, the thermom-
eter fell to II, 7, 6, 6; and at Selborne to 7, 6, Io;
and on the 31st of January, just before sunrise, with
rime on the trees and on the tube of the glass, the
quicksilver sank exactly to zero, being 32 degrees

below the freezing—point: but by eleven in the morn-
184

ing, though in the shade, it sprang up to 16%*—a
most unusual degree of cold this for the south of
England! During these four nights the cold was so
penetrating, that it occasioned ice in warm cham-
bers, and under beds; and in the day, the wind was
so keen, that persons of robust constitutions could
scarcely endure to face it. The Thames was at once
frozen over both above and below bridge, so that
crowds ran about on the ice. The streets were now
strangely incumbered with snow, which crumbled
and trod dusty; and soon turning grey, resembled
bay-salt: what had fallen on the roofs was perfectly
dry, that, from first to last, it lay twenty-six days on
the houses in the city; a longer time than had been
remembered by the oldest housekeepers living. Ac-
cording to all appearances, we might now have ex-
pected the continuance of this rigorous weather for
' weeks to come, since every night increased in sever-
ity: but behold, without any apparent cause, on the
1st of February, a thaw took place, and some rain
followed before night, making good the observation
above, that frosts often go off as it were at once, with-
out any gradual declension of cold. On the 2d of
February the thaw persisted ; and on the 3d swarms

 

* At Selborne the cold was greater than at any other place that the
author could hear of with certainty: though it was reported at the time,
that at a village in Kent, the thermometer fell two degrees below zero,
viz. 34 degrees below the freezing-point.

The thermometer used at Selborne was graduated by Benjamin
Martin.

I85

of little insects were frisking and sporting in a court-
yard at South Lambeth, as if they had felt no frost.
Why the juices in the small bodies, and smaller limbs,
of such minute beings are not frozen, is a matter of
curious inquiry.

Severe frosts seem to be partial, or to run in cur-
rents; for, at the same juncture, as the author was
informed by accurate correspondents, at Lyndon, in
the county of Rutland, the thermometer stood at 19;
at Blackburn, in Lancashire, at 19; and at Manches-
ter at 21, 20 and 18. Thus does some unknown cir—
cumstance strangely overbalance latitude, and render
the cold sometimes much greater in the southern
than in the northern parts of this kingdom.

The consequences of this severity were, that in
Hampshire, at the melting of the snow, the wheat
looked well, and the turnips came forth little injured.
The laurels and laurustines were somewhat damaged,
but only in hot aspects. No evergreens were quite
destroyed; and not half. the damage sustained that
befell in January 1768. Those laurels that were a
little scorched on the south side were perfectly un-
touched on their north sides. The care taken to
shake the snow day by day from the branches seemed
greatly to avail the author’s evergreens. A neigh-
bour’s laurel-hedge, in a high situation, and facing.
to the north, was perfectly green and vigorous; and
the Portugal laurels remained unhurt.

As to the birds; the thrushes and blackbirds
I86

were mostly destroyed; and the partridges were so
thinned by the weather and poachers, that few re-
mained to breed the following year.

1

I LETTER CVII.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

AS the frost in December 1784 was very extraor-
dinary, you, I trust, will not be displeased to hear
the particulars; and especially when I promise to
say no more about the severities of winter after I
have finished this letter.

The first week in December was very wet, with
the barometer very low. On the 7th, with the ba-
rometer at 28 five-tenths, came on a vast snow, which
continued all that day and the next, and most part of
the following night; so that by the morning of the
9th the works of men were quite overwhelmed, the
lanes filled so as to be impassable, and the ground
covered twelve or fifteen inches without any drift-
ing. In the evening of the 9th, the air began to be
so very sharp, that we thought it would be curious
to attend to the motions of a thermometer: we there-
fore hung out two, one made by Martin and one by
Dollond, which soon began to show us what we were
to expect; for, by ten o’clock, they fell to 21, and at ‘

eleven, to 4, when we went to bed. - On the 10th, in
187

the morning. the quicksilver of Dolloud's glass was
down to hall a degree below zero; and that of Mar-

tin's. which was absurdly graduated only to tour de-

 

771: Tint/7N6 (1/ [Vin-run I'll/Hunt

grees above zero. sank quite into the brass guard of
the ball : so that when the weather became most in—
teresting. this was useless. ()n the 10th. at eleven at
night. though the air was perfectly still. Dollond's
glass went down to one degree below zero! This
strange severity of the weather made me very desir-
ous to know what degree of cold there might be in
such an exalted and near situation as Newton. \Ve
had therefore. on the morning of the 10th. written to
Mr.

mometer. made by Adams : and to pay some attention

 

.and entreated him to hang out his ther-

to it. morning and evening; expecting wonderful
188

phenomena, in so elevated a region as two hundred
feet or more above my house. But, behold! on the
10th, at eleven at night, it was down only to 17°, and
the next morning at 22°, when mine was at 10°! We
were so disturbed at this unexpected reverse of com—
parative local cold, that we sent one of my glasses
up, thinking that of Mr. must, somehow, be
wrongly constructed. But, when the instruments
came to be confronted, they went exactly together:
so that, for one night at least, the cold at Newton
was 18° less than at Selborne; and, through the
whole frost, 10° or 12°; indeed, when we came to

 

observe the consequences, we could readily credit
this; for all my laurustines, bays, ilexes, arbutuses,
cypresses, and even my Portugal laurels, and (which
occasions more regret) my fine sloping laurel-hedge,
were scorched up; while, at Newton, the. same trees
had not lost a leaf!

‘ We had steady frost on to the 25th, when the ther-
mometer in the morning was down to 10° with us,
and at Newton only to 21°. Strong frost continued
till the glst, when some tendency to thaw was ob-
served; and by the 3rd of January, 1785, the thaw
was confirmed, and some rain fell.

A circumstance thatl must not omit, because it
was new to us, is, thation Friday, December the 10th,
being bright sunshine, the air was full of icy spiculae,
floating in all directions, like atoms in a sunbeam let

into a dark room. We thought them, at first, par-
30 I89

ticles of the rime falling from my tall hedges; but
were soon convinced to the contrary, by making our
observations in open places Where no rime could
reach us. Were they watery particles of the air
frozen as they floated; or were they evaporations
from the snow frozen as they mounted?

\Ve were much obliged to the thermometers for
the early information they gave us; and hurried our
apples, pears, onions, &c., into the cellar, and warm
closets; while those who had not such warnings, or
neglected them, lost all their stores of roots and
fruits, and had their very bread and cheese frozen.

I must not omit to tell you, that, during those
two Siberian days, my parlour-cat was so electric,
that had a person stroked her, and been properly in-
sulated, the shock might have been given to a whole
circle of people.

I forgot to mention before, that, during the two
severe days, two men, who were tracking hares in
the snow, had their feet frozen; and two others, who
were much better employed, had their fingers so
affected by the frost, while they were thrashing in a
barn, that a mortification followed, from which they
did not recover for many weeks.

This frost killed all the furze and most of the ivy,
and in many places stripped the hollies of all their
leaves. It came at a very early time of the year, be-
fore old November ended ; and yet may be allowed

from its effects to have exceeded any since 1739—40.
190

LETTER CVIII.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

As the effects of heat are. seldom very remarkable
in the northerly climate of England, where the sum-
mers are often so defective in warmth and sunshine
as not to ripen the fruits of the earth so well as might
be wished, I shall be more concise in my account of
the intensity of a summer season, and so make a little
amends for the prolix account of the degrees of cold,
and the inconveniences that we suffered from some
late rigorous winters. _

The summers of 1781 and 1783 were unusually
hot and dry; to them therefore I shall turn back in
my journals, without recurring to any more distant
period. In the former of these years my peach and
_ nectarine trees suffered so much from the heat, that
the rind on the bodies were scalded and came off;
since which the trees have been in a decaying state.
This may prove a hint to assiduous gardeners to
fence and shelter their wall-trees with mats or boards,
as they may easily do, because such annoyance is
seldom of long continuance. During that summer,
also, I observed that my apples were coddled, as it
were, on the trees; so that they had no quickness
of flavour, and they did not keep in the winter. This
circumstance put me in mind of what I have heard

travellers assert, that they never ate a good apple, or
191

apricot, in the south of Europe, where the heats
are so great as to render the juices vapid and insipid.

The great pests of a garden are wasps, which
destroy all the finer fruits, just as they are coming
into perfection. In 1781 we had none; in 1783 there
were myriads; which would have devoured all the
produce of my garden, had not we set the boys to
take the nests ; we caught thousands with hazel-twigs
tipped with bird-lime: and have since employed the
boys to take and destroy the large breeding wasps in
the spring. Such expedients have a great effect on
these marauders, and will keep them under. Though
wasps do not abound but in hot summers, yet they
do not prevail then, as I have instanced in the two
years above mentioned.

In the sultry season of 1783, honey-dews were so
frequent as to deface and destroy the beauties of my
garden. My honeysuckles, which were one week the
most sweet and lovely objects that the eye could be-
hold, became, the next, the most loathsome; being
enveloped in a viscous substance, and loaded with
black ap/zz‘a’es, or smother-flies. The occasion of this
clammy appearance seems to be this, that, in hot.
weather, the effluvia of flowers in fields, and mead-
ows, and gardens are drawn up in the day by a brisk
evaporation, and then in the night fall down again
with the dews, in which they are entangled; that
the air is strongly scented, and therefore impregnated

with the particles of flowers in summer weather, our
192

senses will inform us; and that this sweet clammy
substance is of the vegetable kind we may learn from
bees, to Whom it is very grateful: we may also be
assured that it falls in the night, because it is always
first seen in still warm mornings.

On chalky and sandy soils, and in the hot villages
about London, the thermometer has been often ob-
served to mount as high as 83 or 84; but with us, in
this hilly and woody district, I have hardly ever seen
it exceed 80; nor does it often arrive at that pitch.
The reason, I conclude, is, that our dense clayey soil,
so much shaded by trees, is not so easily heated
through as those above mentioned: and besides, our
mountains cause currents of air and breezes; and the
vast evaporation from our woodlands tempers and

moderates our heats.

LETTER CIX.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

THE summer of the year 1783 was an amazing
and a portentous one, and full of horrible phenom-
ena; for, besides the alarming meteors and tremen-
dous thunderstorms that affrighted and distressed
the different counties of this kingdom, the peculiar
haze, or smoky fog, that prevailed for many weeks

in this island, and in every part of Europe, and even
193

beyond its limits, was a most extraordinary appear-
ance, unlike anything known within the memory of
man. By my journal I find that I had noticed this
strange occurrence from June 23 to July 20 inclu-
sive, during which period the wind varied to every
quarter without making any alteration in the air.
The sun, at noon, looked as blank as a clouded
moon, and shed a rust-coloured, ferruginous light
on the ground, and floors of rooms; but was par-
ticularly lurid and blood-coloured at rising and set-
ting. All the time the heat was so intense, that
butchers’ meat could hardly be eaten on the day
after it was killed; and the flies swarmed so in the
lanes and hedges that they rendered the horses
half frantic, and riding irksome. The country peo-
ple began to look with a superstitious awe at the
red louring aspect of the sun; and indeed there
was reason for the most enlightened person to be
apprehensive; for, all the while Calabria and part
of the isle of Sicily, were torn and convulsed with
earthquakes; and about that juncture a volcano
sprung out of the sea on the coast of Norway. On
this occasion Milton’s noble simile of the sun, in his
first book of “Paradise Lost,” frequently occurred
to my mind; and it is indeed particularly applica-
ble, because, towards the end, it alludes to a super-
stitious kind of dread, with which the minds of
men are always impressed by such strange and un-

usual phenomena.
194

t‘

— — — As when the sun, new risen,
Looks through the horizontal, misty air,
Shorn of his beams ; or from behind the moon

In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds
On half the nations, and with fear of change

,1

Perplexes monarchs —- — — —

LETTER CX.

To THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.

WE are-very seldom annoyed with thunder-
storms; and it is no less remarkable than true, that
those which arise in the south have hardly been
known to reach this village; for, before they get
over us, they take a direction to the east, or to the
west, or sometimes divide into two, and go in part to
one of those quarters, and in part to the other; as
was truly the case in the summer of 1783, when,
though the country round was continually harassed
with tempests, and often from the south; yet we
escaped them all, as appears by my journal of that
.summer.* The only way that I can at all account

 

* Storms.—To this awful summer of I783, Cowper also alludes in his
“ Task,” book ii. p. 41 :—
“ A world that seems
To toll the death-bell of its own decease ;
And by the voice of all the elements
To preach the general doom.”

 

195

for this fact—for such it is—is that on that quarter
between us and the sea there are continual moun-g
tains, hill behind hill, such as Nore-hill, the Barnet,
Butser-hill, and Ports-down, which somehow divert
the storms, and give them a different direction.
High promontories and elevated grounds have al-
ways been observed to attract clouds, and disarm
them of their mischievous contents, which are dis-
charged into the trees and summits as soon as they
come in contact with those turbulent meteors ; while-
the humble vales escape, because they are so far be-
neath them.

But when I say I do not remember a thunder.
storm from the south, I do not mean that we never
have suffered from thunderstorms at all; for on June
5th, 1784, the thermometer in the morning being at
64°, and at noon at 70°, the barometer at 29°—six-
tenths one-half, and the wind north, I observed a
blue mist, smelling strongly of sulphur, hanging
along our SIOping woods, and seeming to indicate
that thunder was at hand. I was called in about
two in the afternoon, and so missed seeing the gath-
ering of the clouds in the north; which they who
were abroad assured me had something uncommon
in its appearance. At about a quarter after two, the
storm began in the parish of Hartley, moving slowly
from north to south; and from thence it came over
Norton-farm, and so to Grange-farm, both in this

parish. It began with vast drops of rain, which were
196

soon succeeded by round hail, and then by convex
pieces of ice, which measured three inches in girth.
Had it been as extensive as it was violent, and of
any continuance (for it was very short), it must have
ravaged all the neighbourhood. In the parish of
Hartley it did some damage to one farm; but Nor-
ton, which lay in the centre of the storm, was greatly
injured; as was Grange, which lay next to it. It did
but just reach to the middle of the village, where the
hail broke my north windows, and all my garden-
lights and hand-glasses, and many of my neighbours’
windows. The extent of the storm was about two
miles in length and one in breadth. We were just
sitting down to dinner; but were soon diverted from
our repast by the clattering of tiles and the jingling
of glass. There fell at the same time prodigious
torrents of rain on the farms above mentioned,
which occasioned a flood as violent as it was sud-
den\,\do\indg great damage to the meadows and fal-
lows, by eluging the one and washing away the
soil of the other. The hollow lane towards Alton
was so torn and disordered as not to be passable
till mended, rocks being removed that weighed two
hundred-weight. Those that saw the effect which
the great hail had on ponds and pools, say that the
dashing of the water made an extraordinary appear-
ance,the froth and spray standing up in the air three
feet above the surface. The rushing and roaring of

the hail as it approached was truly tremendous.
I97

Though the clouds at South Lambeth, near Lon—
don, were at that juncture thin and light, and no
storm was in sight, nor within hearing, yet the air
was strongly electric; for the bells of an electric
machine at that place rang repeatedly, and fierce
sparks were discharged.

\Vhen I first took the present work in hand I
proposed to have added an Amzus Hz’sz‘orz'szaZura/zk,'
or, The Natural History of the Twelve Months of the
Year; which would have comprised many incidents
and occurrences that have not fallen in my way to
be mentioned in my series of letters; but as Mr.
Aikin of VVarrington has published somewhat of this
sort, and as the length of my correspondence has
sufficiently put your patience to the test, I shall here
take a respectful leave of you and natural history
together; and am,

\Vith all due deference and regard,
Your most obliged,
And most humble Servant,

GIL. WHITE.
SELBORNE, fzmc 25, I787.

198

NEW LETTERS.

THE INVITATION: TO SAMUEL BARKER.

NE percuncteris, fundus meus, optime Quincti,
Arvo pascat herum, an baccis opulentet olivae,
Pomisne et pratis, an amicta vitibus ulmo:
Scribetur tibi forma loquaciter, et situs agri.

See, Selborne spreads her boldest beauties round,
’The vary’d valley, and the mountain-ground
‘Wildly majestic: what is all the pride
'Of flats, with loads of ornament supply’d?
Unpleasing, tasteless, impotent expence,
'Compar’d with Nature’s rude magnificence.

Oft on some evening, sunny, soft, and still,
"The Muse shall hand thee to the beech-grown hill,
'To spend in tea the cool, refreshful hour,

'Where nods in air the pensile, nest-like bower:
‘Or where the Hermit hangs his straw-clad cell,
Emerging gently from the leafy dell:
Romantic spot! from whence in prospect lies

Whate’er of landscape charms our feasting eyes;
‘ I99

The pointed spire, the hall, the pasture-plain,
The russet fallow, and the golden grain ;
The breezy lake that sheds a gleaming light,
’Til all the fading picture fails the sight.

Each to his task: all different ways retire;
Cull the dry stick; call forth the seeds of fire;
Deep fix the nettle’s props, a forky row;

Or give with fanning hat one breeze to blow.

Whence is this taste, the furnish’d hall forgot,
To feast in gardens, or th’ unhandy grot?

Or novelty with some new charms surprises;
Or from our very shifts some joy arises.

Hark, while below the village bells ring round,
Echo, sweet Nymph, returns the soften’d sound:
But if gusts rise, the rushing forests roar,

Like the tide tumbling on the pebbly shore.

Adown the vale, in lone sequester’d nook,
Where skirting woods imbrown the dimpling brook,
The ruin’d Abbey lies: here wont to dwell *
The lazy monk within his cloister’d cell;
While papal darkness brooded o’er the land;
Ere Reformation made her glorious stand:
Still oft at eve belated shepherd-swains
See the cowl’d spectre skim the folded plains.

To the high Temple would my stranger go, i

Whose mountain-brow commands the groves below?

 

* The ruins of a Priory founded by Peter de Rupibus, Bishop of
\Vinton.
+The remains of a supposed lodge belonging to the Knights

Templars.
200

"" $31.7,»ng
.1 ' "I i h h

In Jewry first this order found a name,
When madding Croisades set the world in flame;
When western climes, urg’d on by Pope and priest,
Pour’d forth their millions o’er the delug‘d east:
Luxurious Knights, ill suited to defy
To mortal fight Turcestan chivalry.
Nor be the Parsonage by the Muse forgot:
The partial bard admires his native spot;
Smit with its beauties lov’d, as yet a child,
Unconscious why, its ’scapes grotesque and wild:
High on a mound th’ exalted gardens stand ;
Beneath, deep valleys scoop’d by Nature’s hand!
Now climb the steep, drop now your eye below,
Where round the verdurous village orchards blow;
There, like a picture, lies my lowly seat,
A rural, shelter’d, unobserv’d retreat.
Me, far above the rest, Selbornian scenes,
The pendent forest, and the mountain-greens,
Strike with delight: . . . there spreads the distant
' View
That gradual fades, ’til sunk in misty blue:
Here Nature hangs her slopy woods to sight,
Rills purl between, and dart a wavy light.
When deep’ning shades obscure the face of day,
To yonder bench leaf-shelter’d let us stray,
To hear the drowzy. dor come brushing by
With buzzing wing; or the field-cricket cry;
To see the feeding bat glance thro’ the wood;
Or catch the distant falling of the Hood:

201

While high in air, and poised upon his wings
Unseen, the soft enamour’d wood-lark sings: *
These, Nature’s works, the curious mind employ,
Inspire a soothing, melancholy joy:
As fancy warms a pleasing kind of pain
Steals o’er the cheek, and thrills the creeping vein!
Each rural sight, each sound, each smell com-
bine ;
The tinkling sheep-bell, or the breath of kine;
The new-mown hay that scents the swelling breeze,
Or cottage-chimney smoking thro’ the trees.
The chilling night-dews fall: . . . . away, retire,
What time the glow-worm lights her amorous fire. l

SELBORNE: Nov: 3: I774.
DEAR SAM,

When I sat down to write to you in verse, my
whole design was to shew you at once how easy a
thing it might be with a little care for a Nephew to
excell his Uncle in the business of versification: but
as you have fully answered that intent by your late
excellent lines; you must for the future excuse my
replying in the same way, and make some allowance
for the difference of our ages.

 

* In hot summer nights woodlarks soar to a prodigious height, and
hang singing in the air.
l The light of the glow-worm is a signal to her paramour, a slender
dusky scarab.
202

However, when at any time you find yr muse
propitious, I shall always rejoice to see a copy of
yr performance; and shall be ready to commend;
and what is more rare, yet more sincere, even to
object and criticize where there is occasion.

A little turn for English poetry is no doubt a
pretty accomplishment for a young Gent: and will
not only enable him the better to read and relish our
best poets; but will, like dancing to the body, have
an happy, influence even on his prose compositions.
Our best poets have been our best prose-writers: of
this assertion Dryden and Pope are notorious in-
stances. It would be in vain to think of saying
much here on the art of versification: instead of the
narrow limits of a letter such a subject would re-
quire a large volume. However, I may say. in few
words, that the way to excell is to c0py only from
our best writers. The great grace of poetry con-
sists in a perpetual variation of y1r cadmces: if pos-
sible no two lines following ought to have their
pause at the same foot. Another beauty should not
be passed over, and that is the use of throwing the
sense and pause into the third line, which add a
dignity and freedom to yr expressions. Dryden in-
troduced this practice, and carryed it to great per-
fection: but his successor Pope, by his over exact-
ness, corrected away that noble liberty, and almost
reduced every sentence within the narrow bounds

of a couplet. Alliteration, or the art of introducing
203

words beginning with the same letter in the same or
following line, has also a fine effect when managed
with discretion. Dryden and Pope practised this
art with wonderful success. As, for example, where
you say “The polish’d beetle,” . . the epithet “bur—
nish’d ” would be better for the reason above. But
then you must avoid affectation in this case, and let
the alliteration slide-in as it were without design:
and this secret will make your lines appear bold and
nervous.

There are also in poetry allusions, similes, and a
thousand nameless graces, the efficacy of which noth-
ing can make you sensible of but the careful reading
of our best poets, and a nice and judicious applica—
tion of their beauties. I need not add that you
should be careful to seem not to take any pains
about yr rhimes; they should fall-in as it were of
themselves. Our old poets laboured as much for-
merly to lug-in two chiming words, as a butcher does
to drag an ox to be slaughtered: but Mr. Pope has
set such a pattern of ease in that way, that few com-
posers now are faulty in the business of rhiming.
When I have the pleasure of meeting you we will
talk over these and many other matters too copious
for an Epistle. I had like to have forgotten to add
that jack copied your verses and sent them to yr
Uncle John who commended them much: you will
be pleased to be commended by one that is the best

performer and the best critic in that way that I
204

know. With respects to your father and mother
and all the family,
I remain Yr affect: Uncle, GIL: WHITE. -

Nanny White mends apace: she is still at New-
ton.

To MRs. BARKER.
SELBORNE: Dec: 25: 78.
DEAR SISTER,
My Nep: Edmd who is now at Newton, brings
a most sad. account of his mother, whose state of
health is very deplorable, and her infirmities and
sufferings very great. As to our poor brother in
Lancashire, I have not heard from him for some
time : the last account was but bad.

Next week we expect at this place a great navi-
gator, or rather navzgaz‘ress, who within these 20
_ months has sailed 20,000 miles. The person alluded
to is Miss Shutter, Mrs. Etty’s niece, who set out for
Madras in March, 1777; and returning to Europe
this autumn in the Carizaz‘z'c India-man, was taken by
her own countrymen near the coast of France and
carried to the downs, and landed at Deal. This
Lady appears in great splendor; and is, it is Sup-
posed, to be married to a Gent: now on the seas in
his way from India. Bad' fevers and sore throats
obtain much in these parts, and many children die.

A person at Harkley buryed three, his whole stock,
3I _ 205

in one grave last Tuesday. When I was down at
Ringmer I found that district was sickly. Mrs. Sn:
wrote herself some time since, and did not complain
of any particular infirmities. My great parlor turns
out a fine warm winter—room, and affords a pleasant
equal warmth. In blustering .weather the chimney
smokes a little ’til the shaft becomes hot. The chief
fault. that I find is the strong echo, which, when
many people are talking, makes confusion to my
poor dull ears. Your money is disposed of among
poor neighbours. I have no doubt but that yr son
will turn out a valuable young man ; and will be far
from being injured by a public education. “ Omnes
omnia bona dicere, et laudare fortunas tuas, qui
filium haberes tali ingenio praeditum.” With re-
spects and the good wishes of the season I remain
Your affect: brother,
GIL: WHITE.

DEAR NIECE ANNE,

After I had experienced the advantage of two
agreeable young house-keepers, I was much at a
loss when they left me; and have nobody to make
whipp’d syllabubs, and grace the upper end of my
table. Molly and her father came again, and stayed
near a month, during which we made much use of
my great room: but they also have left me some

time. \Vhether they carryed-off any Ladies Tma’sl
206

cannot recollect: but it is easy to distinguish them
at this season; for soon after they are out of bloom
they throw-out radical leaves, which abide all the
winter. The plant is rare; but happens to abound
in the Long Lit/w, and will be enumerated in the list
of more rare plants about Selborne. I wish we could
say we had ye Parnasz'a: I have sowed seeds in our
bogs several times, but to no purpose. Please to let
me know how many inches of rain fell in the late wet
fit, which lasted about 5 weeks. The springs from
being very low mounted-up to a vast rate; and our
[awards at Faringdon began to appear last week. My
Barr is this evening at 30— 3 — 1034, the air thick, and
warm, and still. Hepaticas and winter-aconites blos-
som; and Helleéorus foetz'd-us in the Hzg/z-wood, another
rare plant. The clouds are all gone; and we may
expect frost.

We have here this winter a weekly concert con-
— sisting of a first and second fiddle, two repianos, a
bassoon, an haut-boy, a violincello, and a German-
flute; to the great annoyance of the neighbouring
pigs, which complain that their slumbers are inter-
rupted, and their teeth set on edge.

207

To Miss ANNE BARKER.

SELBORNE: Feé: 5M: 1785.
DEAR NIECE,
I was just thinking to write
. _ RAIN AT SELBORNF.
to somebody in your famlly, when

 

IN 1784.

your agreeable letter came in. inc : h
As the late frost was attended £2222. : (3) :3
with some unusual circumstances, Mar: _ 3 : 82
your father, I trust, will not be Apr: — 3 :92
displeased to hear the particulars. May — I 1 52
The first week in Decr was very fill; : i :5)
wet, with the Baromr very low. Aug: _ 3 :88
()n the 7th with the Bar: at 28 — Septr —— 2 : 51
5— 10: there came on a vast 00“ —— 0:39
snow, which continued all that NOV“ — 4 = 70
day and the next, and most part Decr — 3: 6
Total 33 : 80

of the following night ; so that by

 

 

the morning of the 9th the works

of men were quite overwhelmed, the lanes filled so
as to be rendered impassable, and the ground cov-
ered 12 or I4 inches where there was no drifting.
In the evening of the 9th the air began to be so
very sharp that we thought it would be curious to
attend to the motions of a Therm‘. We therefore
hung out two, one made by Martin and one by
Dolland, which soon began to shew us What we
were to expect. For by 10 o’clock they fell to 21:

—and at 11“: to 4, when we went to bed. On the
208

10th in the morning Dolland’s glass was down to
lea/f a degree ée/ow zero; and Martin’s, which ab-
surdly was graduated only to 4 above zero, was
quite into the ball: so that when the weather be-
came most interesting, it was quite useless. On the
10th at eleven at night, tho’ the air was perfectly
still, Dolland’s glass went down to I degree below
zero ./ This strange severity had made my Bro: and
me very desirous to know what degree of cold there
might be in such an exalted situation as Newton:
We had therefore on the morning of the 10th written
to Mrs. Yalden, and entreated her to hang-out her
Thermr made by Adams ; and to pay some attention
to it morning, and evening, expecting wonderful
doings in so elevated a region. But behold on the
10th, at II at Night it was down only to 19! and the
next morning at 22, when mine was at 10! We were
so disturbed at this unexpected reverse of comparative
local Cold, that we sent one of my glasses up, think-
ing Mr. Yz’s must, some how be constructed wrong.
But when the instruments came to be confronted,
they went exactly together. So that for one night
at least, the cold at N: was 20 degrees less than at
S: and the whole frost thro’ ten or twelve. And
indeed, when we came to observe consequences, we
could readily suppose it. For all my laurustines,
bays, Ilexis, and What is much worse my fine sloping
laurel-hedge, are all scorched up, and dead I while at

Newton the same trees have not lost a leaf! We
209

had steady frost on to the 25th-when the thermr in
the morning was down to 10 with us, and at Newton
only to 21 l . Strong frost continued till the 315t when
some tendency to thaw was observed: and by Jan:
3rd: 1785 the thaw was confirmed, and some rain
fell. There was a circumstance that I must not omit,
because it was new to my brother and me; which
was that on Friday, Decr Ioth, being bright sun-
shine, the air was full of icy spiculae, floating in all
directions, like atoms in a sun-beam let into a dark
room. We thought at first that they might have
been particles of the rime falling from my tall
hedges: but were soon convinced to the contrary
by making our observations in open places, where
no rime could reach us. \Vere they the watry
particles of the air frozen as they floated; or were
they the evaporations from the snow frozen as they
mounted? We were much obliged to the Thermr for
ye early intimations that they gave us ; and hurryed
our apples, pears, onions, potatoes, &c., into the cel-
lar, and warm closets: while those, that had not
these warnings, lost all their stores, and had their
very bread and cheese frozen. For my own part,
having a house full of relations, I enjoyed the rigor-
ous season much; and found full employ in shovel-
ing a path round my outlet, and up to Newton; and
in observing the Therm”), &c: and was only sorry
for the poor and aged, who suffered much. I must

not omit to tell you, that during those two Siberian
2IO

days my parlor-cat was so electric, when stroked,
that had the Stroker been properly insulated, he
might have given the shock to a whole circle of
people. Bro: Tho: and family left us Jan: 5th.
The morning before he went away his house at S:
Lambeth was assaulted by three villains, one of
whom his Gardener shot thro' the body with slugs
from the parapet just as they were entering the
drawing-room. Mrs. and Miss Etty are well; and
Charles just gone to attend his ship in the river,
which sails in March. Mr. Richd Chase is released
from his 3 years and 1% captivity in India, and is re-
turned to Madras. Magd : Coll : has just purchased
the little life-hold estate on the Plesz‘or, in reversion
after two lives, intending hereafter to make it glebe
to the Vicarage. Tell y’r Mother I thank her for her
gift, which will be very acceptable to the poor: and
yr Father, that I should be glad to see /zz's account of
rain, frost, &c. I advise yr Father and Bror to read
Sr John Cullun’s History of Hawsted, the parish
where he is Rector. Mrs. J. White joins in respects.
Yr loving Uncle, GIL: WHITE.

Mr. Yalden, poor man, is in a bad state of health,
and is gone to town for advice. Ch: Etty’s new ship
is named the Duke of Mom‘mse, Cap : Elphinstone : all
the officers are ScotCh except Ch: I have met with
Will: Bercarz'us, which name signifies Shep/167d: hence

the modern name of Barker. Men are cutting the
2II

beeches at-the top of the hill; but not those on the
hanger this year. We shall lose the beautiful fringe
that graces the outline of our prospect that way: but
shall gain 60 feet of Horizon. Jupiter wests so fast
that at sun-set he is not much above these trees.
Snow covers the ground.

To THOMAS BARKER, ESQ.

SELBORNEh/anISL'I79L
DEAR SIR, '

As the year 1790 is just at an end, I send you
the rain of that period, which, I trust, has been regu-

larly measured. Nov. and Dec. as
RAIN IN 1790.

. . Jan : 199
storms, that 1n various places had oc- Feb:

you see, were very wet, with many

casioned much damage. The fall of Mar :1:
rain from Nov. 19 to the 22, inclusive, AP: 364
was prodigious! The thunder storm May 438
on Dec. 23 in the morning before day June 13

July 324

was very aweful: but, I thank God, it Aug. 230
did not do us any the least harm. Sept. 66

 

Two millers, in a wind-mill on the 0015' 21°
‘ Nov. 695
Sussex downs near Good-wood, were D
. . 60- 594
struck dead by lightnlng that morn-
3227

ing; and part of the gibbet on Hind-
head, on which two murderers were suspended, was

beaten down. I am not sure that I was awaked
2I2

soon enough to hear the whole storm: between the
flashes that I saw and the thunder, I counted from
IO to I4 seconds.

In consequence of my Nat. Hist. I continue to
receive various letters from various parts; and in
particular from a Mr. Marsham of Stratton near Nor-
wich, an aged Gent: who has published in the R. S.
respecting the growth of trees. Do you know any
thing about this person? He is an agreeable corre-
spondent. He is such an admirer of oaks, that
he has been twice to see the great oak in the
Holt.

Dr. Chander, and family, who came at first only
with an intent to stay with us a few months; have
now taken the Vicarage house for some time. The
Dr. is much busied in writing the life of his founder,
William VVainflete: he lives a very studious and do-
mestic life, keeps no horse, and visits few people.
We have just received the agreeable news that Mrs.
Clement was safely delivered, last Wednesday, of a
boy, her 8th Child, which are all living. Mr. Chur-
ton, who is keeping his Xmas with us as usual, de-
sires his best respects, and many thanks for the
hospitable reception and intelligent information
which he met with last summer at Lyndon. He is a
good antiquary, and much employed in writing the
life of Doctor Will. Smith, the founder of Brazenose
Coll. of which he is now the senior fellow.

Yr leg, we hope, is recovered from its accident.
213

Mrs. J. White joins in affectionate compliments, and
the good wishes of the season. I conclude
Yr most humble servant,
G. WHITE.

     

 

  

2—1.1, 3 - (“—- 11“

  
 
   

  

  

1 ~ f ‘0' - x‘lf. , I l

" “.v-wW'i-r M- rva w
-‘”hummizzfivguT":. w
M. '4 l'fllm‘wl'i' 7 firm Q

 

.IIZIJIJI

I .II

‘ ‘ Risk-”Iii "’ ll ,‘1‘ fl; 3
“f JV ,Wé. ~$FIIMAMA //'

Seléorne c/zurc/z 56m from t/ze fields.

214

A COMPARATIVE VIEW

OF THE

NATURALI ST’S CALENDAR,

AS KEPT

AT SELBORNE, IN HAMPSHIRE,
BY THE LATE REV. GILBERT WHITE, M.A.,

AND

AT CATSFIELD, NEAR BATTLE, IN SUSSEX,
BY WILLIAM MARKWICK, ESQ., F. L. 5.,

FROM THE YEAR 1768 TO THE YEAR 1793.

N. B.—The dates in the following Calendars,
when more than one, express the car/2'65! and the
latest times in which the circumstance noted was
Observed.

A COMPARATIVE VIEW

OF

WHITE’S AND MARKVVICK’S CALENDAR.

Of the abbreviations used, fl signifies flowering ; l. lea/Eng;
and ap. the first appearance.

REDBREAST (Sylvia ruoecala) sings

Larks (-4 lauda ar'zreusz's) congregate

Nuthatch (Sz'tta E uropcya) heard

Winter aconite (Helleoorus lzz'emalz's) fl.

Shelless snail or slug (L z'max) ap.

Gray wagtail (.llotacz'lla ooarula) ap. %

White wagtail (.l’lotacz'lla aloa) ap.

Missel thrush (Tardus vz'scz'worus) sings

Bearsfoot (Helleoorusfa’tia’us) fl.

Polyanthus (Prz'mula Polyant/za) fl.

Double daisy (Bellz's foromzz's plaza) fl.

Mezereon (Daphne mozerezmz) fl.

Pansie (Vz'ola tricolor) fl.

Red dead-nettle (Lamz'zmz purflurem/z) fl.

Groundsel (Senecz'o zlulgarz's) fl.

Hazel (Corylus avelana) fl.

Hepatica (A nemorze lzepatz'ca) fl.

Hedge sparrow (Sylvia moa’ularz’s) sings

Common flies (/l/[usca domesz‘z'ca) seen in
numbers

Greater titmouse (Paras major) sings

Thrush (Tardus musz’cus) sings

Insects swarm under sunny hedges

Primrose (Prz'mula vulgarz's) fl.

Bees (A 151's mellz'fica) ap.

Gnats play about

Chaf’finches. male and female (Frz'rzg‘z'lla
celebs), seen in equal numbers

F urze or gorse (Ulex E uropa’us) fl.

 

Jan.

Jan.
Jan.
Jan.
Jan.

Jan.

Jan.
Jan.
Jan.
Jan.
Jan.
Jan.
jan.
Jan.
Jan.
Jan.
Jan.
Jan.

Jan.
Jan.
Jan.
Jan.
Jan.

Jan.
Jan.

. Jan.
217

WHITE.
I-I2

1—18
1—14

I. Feb.

2—II

WWNNNN

3—21
3-15

3. Feb.
4. Feb.

5—12

5.. Feb.

5"

6—22

6
6. Apr.
6 Mar.

6. Feb.

8. Feb.

Feb.
Apr.
Feb.
Feb.

Feb.

I9

 

MARKWICK.
Jan. 3—31, and again
Oct. 6

Oct. I6. Feb. 9
Mar. 3. Apr. IO
Feb. 28. Apr. I7
Jan. I6. May 31
Ian. 24 Mar. 26
Dec. 12 Feb. 23
Feb. 19 Apr. I4
Mar. I. May 5
Jan. I. Apr. 9
Mar. 17. Apr. 29
Jan. 2. Apr. 4
jan. I. May I0
Jan. I. Apr. 5
Jan. 1. Apr. 9
Jan. 21. Mar. II
Jan. I7. Apr. 9
Jan. 16. Mar. I3
May I5

Feb. I7. Mar. I7
Jan. 15. Apr. 4
Ian. 3. Mar. 22
Jan. 31. Apr. 11?

last seen Dec. 30
Dec. 2. Feb. 3

Jan. I. Mar. 27

Wallflower (C/zez'rant/zus e/zez'rz'; seu fru-
tz'culosus of Smith) fl.

Stock (C/zez'rant/zus z'rzcanus) fl.

Eméerz’za a/ba (bunting) in great flocks

Linnets (Frz'ngz'lla Zz'nota) congregate

Lambs begin to fall

Rooks (Corvus frugz'legus) resort to their
nest trees

Black hellebore (Helleoorus m'ger) fl.

Snowdrop (Ga/antlzus ”foo/2's) fl.

White dead nettle (Lamz'um aloum) fl.

Trumpet honeysuckle fl.

Common creeping crow-foot (Rammculus
repeus) fl.

House sparrow (Frz'ngz'lla domestz'ea) chirps

Dandelion (Leontodon taraxacum) fl.

Bat (Vespertz'lz'o) ap.

Spiders shoot their webs
Butterfly ap.

Brambling (Frz'ngz'lla montzfrz'ngz'lla) ap.
Blackbird (Turdus merula) whistles
Wren (Sylvia troglodytes) sings
Earthworms lie out

Crocus (Crocus 'oermts) fl.

Skylark (A [main arvensz’s) sings

Ivy casts its leaves

Helleoorus lzz'emrzlz's fl.

Common dor or clock (Scaraoeus stereo-
rarz'us)

Pezz'za acetaoulu m, ap.

Helleoorus m'rz'dz's fl.

Hazel (Corylus cruel/amt) fl.

Woodlark (A [main aroorea) sings

Chafl‘inch (Frz'rzgz'l/a ewleos) sings

Jackdaws begin to come to churches

Yellow wagtail (.Motaez'lla flaz'éi) ap.

Honeysuckle (Lonz'cera perz'elymemmz) 1.

F ield or procumbent speedwell (Veronica
agrestz's) fl.

Nettle butterfly (Pa‘oz'lz'o Urtz'ca’) ap.

White wagtail (Motoci/Za aloa) chirps
Shell snail (Helix Hemoralz's) ap.
Earthworms engender

Barren strawberry (Fragarz‘a sterz'lz's) fl.
Blue titmouse (Paras cwru/eus) chirps

 

 

218

WHITE.

Jan.

Jan. 8—12.
Jan.
Jan.
Jan.

Jan.

9—11

Jan.
Jan.

Jan.

Jan.

Jan.

Jan.
Jan.

Jan.

Jan.
Jan.

jan.
Jan.
Jan.
Jan.
Jan.
Jan.

Jan.
Jan.
Jan.

jan.
Jan.
Jan.
Jan.
Jan.
Jan.
Jan.

Jan.

Jan.

Jan.

Jan.
Jan.
Jan.
Feb. 1.
Feb. 1

Apr.

Feb.

Feb.

Mar.
Mar.

Feb.
Mar.

Mar. 5
Feb.
Feb.
Feb.
Mar.

Ap

'1

Mar.

Apr.

Feb.

Mar.

 

!
13.
21

15;

w
.14

24

 

MARKWICK.

Feb. 21. May 9
Feb. 1. June 3
Jan. 11
Jan. 6. Feb. 21
; Jan. 23
Apr. 27
Jan. 18. Mar. 1
Mar. 23. May 10
Apr. 10 May 12
Feb. 17. May 9
Feb. 1. Apr. 17

Feb. 6. June 1, last
seen Nov. 20

Feb. 21. May 8, last
seen Dec. 22

Jan. 10-31

Feb. 15.

Feb. 7.

May 13
June 12

Jan. 20. Mar. 19
Jan. Feb. 27,
sings till Nov. 13

I2.

Feb. 28. Apr. 17
Feb. Apr. 19,
last seen Nov. 24

I2.

Jan. 27. Mar. 11
Jan. 28. June 5' ~
Jan. 21. Feb. 26

Apr. 13. July 3, last
seen Sept. 8

Jan. 1. Apr. 9

Feb. 12. Mar. 29

Mar. 5. Apr. 24, last
seen June 6

Mar. 16
Apr. 2. June 11
Jan. 13. Mar. 26
Apr. 27

Brown wood owls hoot

Hen (P/zasianus gallus) sits

Marsh titmouse begins his two harsh sharp
notes

Gossamer floats

M usca tenax ap.

Larustine (Viéurmtm tinus) fl.

Butcher’s broom (Ruscus‘ aculeatus) fl.

Fox (Cam's Zia/fies) smells rank

Turkey-cocks strut and gobble
Yellowhammer (Emberiza cz'trinella) sings
Brimstone butterfly (Papilio R/zamm') ap.

Green woodpecker (Pz'cus virz'dz's) makes a
loud cry
Raven (Corr/us Corax) builds

Yew tree (Taxus éaccata) fl.
Colesfoot (Tussilago far/ara) fl.
Rooks (Corvusfrugi/egus) build
Partridges (Pera’z'x cinema) pair
Peas (Pisum sativum) sown
House pigeon (Columéa domestz'ca) has
young ones
Field crickets open their holes
Common flea (Pulex irritans) ap.
Pilewort (Fz'caria verna) fl.
Goldfinch (Fringz'lla carduelis) sings
Viper (Coluéer aerus‘) ap.

Woodlouse (Onixus asellus) ap.

Missel thrushes pair

Daflodil (Narcissus pseudonarcissus) fl.
Willow (Salix alba) fl.

Frogs (Rana temporaria) croak

Sweet violet (Viola oa’orata) fl.
Pita/527m Tinea vestianella ap.

Stone curlew (Otis wa’z'cnemus) clamours
Filbert (Corylus satimts) fl.

Ring-dove coos

Apricot tree (Prunus armem’aca) fl.
Toad (Rana bufo) ap.

Frogs (Rana temporaria) spawn

Ivy-leaved Speedwell (Veronica Izederzfo-
Zia) fl.

Peach (A mygdalus Persica) fl.

Frog (Rana temporaria) ap.

Shepherd’s purse(T/zlaspibursapastoris) fl.

 

 

 

Feb.
Feb.
Feb.

Feb.
Feb.
Feb.
Feb.
Feb.

Feb.
Feb.
Feb.

Feb.

Feb.

Feb.
Feb.
Feb.
Feb.
Feb.
Feb.

Feb.
Feb.
Feb.
Feb.
Feb.

Feb.
Feb.
Feb.
Feb.
Feb.
Feb.
Feb.
Feb.
Feb.
Feb.
Feb .
Feb.
Feb.

Mar.

Mar.
Mar.
Mar.

219

WHITE.

2

3

3

4. Apr.
4. Apr.
5
5

7

10

12

13. Apr.
13. Mar.
14-17

14. Mar.
15. Mar.
16. Mar
I7

17. Mar.
18

20. Mar.
21-26

21 Apr.
21. Apr
22. Mar.
23. Apr.
24

24. Apr.
24. Apr.
25

26. Mar.
26

27. Apr.
27
27. Apr.
28. Mar.
28. Mar
1. Apr.
2. Apr.
2. Apr.
3

I

8

2

i
'1
1
i
l

l

MARKWICK.

Mar. 8 hatches

jan. 1. Apr. 5
. Jan. I. May 10
May 19, young

brought forth.

eb. 18. Apr. 28
eb. 13. Mar. 8
last seen Dec. 24

F
F

23 f jan. 1. Apr. 17

31

24

I7
6

1

Apr. 1, has young
ones JuneI

 

 

Feb. 2. Apr. 11
Feb. 18. Apr. 13
Feb. 28. Mar. 5
Feb. 16. Mar. 20
Feb. 8. Mar. 31
Feb. 8
jan. 25. Mar. 26
Feb. 28. May 5
Feb. 23. May 6, last
seen Oct. 28
Apr. 27. June 17
Feb. 26. Apr. 18
Feb. 27. Apr. 11
Mar. 9. Apr. 20
Feb. 7. Apr. 5
June 17
Jan. 25. Mar. 26
Mar. 2. Aug. IO
Feb. 28. Apr. 5
Mar. 15. July 1

Feb. 9. Apr. 10, tad-

poles Mar. 19

Feb. 16.

Mar. 4.
Mar. 9
Jan. 2.

Apr. 10

Apr. 29

Apr. 16

 

 

! WHITE. MARKVVICK.
Pheasant (P/zasz'anus Colo/zicus) crows E Mar. 3-29 Mar. 1: May 22
Land tortoise comes forth . Mar. 4. May 8
Lungwort (l’ulmolzoria offloinalis) fl. E Mar. 4. Apr. 16 Mar. 2. May 19
l’odura jimctaria ap. , Mar. 4
A ra nea scuzica salieus ap. E Mar. 4
Scolopwza'ra for/[cam ap. E Mar. 5—16
Wryneck (jyrzx torquilla) ap. Mar. 5. Apr. 25 Mar. 26. Apr. 23,
E last seen Sept. 14
Goose (A ”as ansor) sits on its eggs E Mar. 5 Mar. 21
Duck (.4 ”as [Jose/ms) lays E Mar. 5 Mar. 28
Dog’s violet (Viola cauina) fl. l Mar. 6. Apr. I8 Feb. 28. Apr. 22
Peacock butterfly (Papilio lo) ap. E Mar. 6 Feb. I3. Apr. 20,
last seen Dec. 25
Trouts begin to rise E Mar. 7-14
Field beans (I 'z'cz'a faéa) planted Mar. 8 Apr. 29 emerge
Bloodworms appear in the water Mar. 8
Crow (Corvus Corona) builds E Mar. 10 July I has young
1 ones
Oats (A veua sativa) sown 1 Mar. Io—18 Mar. 16. Apr. 13
Golden crowned wren (Sylvia regulas) Mar. 12. Apr. 30 j Apr.15. May 22,5een
sings E E Dec. 23. jan. 26
Asp (Populus tromzzla) fl. Mar. 12 i Feb. 26. Mar. 28
Common elder (Samoncus nigra) l. , E Mar. 13—20 E Jan. 24. Apr. 22
Laurel (l’rmms laurocurasus) fl. 3 Mar. 15. May 21 Apr. 2. May 27
('lzrysomola Gotting. ap. E Mar. I5
Black ants (Formica nz'gra) ap. E Mar. 15. Apr. 22 Mar. 2. May I8
lip/tower? lvisotrz.’ ap. E Mar. 16
Gooseberry (Rioosgrossularia) 1. E Mar. I7. Apr. II Feb. 26. Apr. 9
Common stitchwort (Ste/[aria lzolostea) fl. . Mar. 17. May 19 Mar. 8. May 7
Wood anemone (A Izemone nemorosa) H. E Mar. I7. Apr. 22 Feb. 27. Apr. IO
Blackbird ( Y‘m-dus M'erula) lays Mar. I7 Apr. 14, young ones
May :9
Raven (Corvus Corax) sits Mar. I7 Apr. I builds
Wheatear (Sylvia (Euant/zo) ap. Mar. 18—30 ‘ Mar. 13. May 23,

. last seen Oct. 26
Mush-wood crowfoot (A (loxa mosclzattel- Mar. 18. Apr. I3 E Feb. 23. Apr. 28
lz'iza) fl. ‘ E

Willow wren * (Sylvia troc/zilus) ap, Mar. 19. Apr. I3 ; Mar. 30. May 16, sits
l
E May 27, last seen
| Oct. 23

 

* l/Villmu II’rozz.—Mr. \Vhite has made strange confusion in the entries respecting
the wrens in his calendar. Three sorts were known to him, as he distinctly says In a
former passage: the Sylvia troc/zilus, a yellow wren ; the Sylvia sz'oilatrix, or wood
wren; the Sylvia lzi/fifiolais, or chiff-chaff; but he enters the separate appearance of
four such wrens in the Calendar, although there were not four species known in this
country, nor did he ever fancy that there were four. By reference to what he has said
in other places, it should seem that the chill-chaff appears the first. Therefore, in the
entry, March 19th, we must read, instead of willow wren, Sylvia troclzz'lus, chiFf-chafi,

220

Fumarz‘a éulbosa fl.
Elm (Ulmus campestrz's) fl.
Turkey (flie/eagrz's gallopa'z/o) lays

House pigeons (Columéa (z’omesz‘z'ca) sit

Marsh marigold (C alt/2a palustrz's) fl.
Buzz-fly (Bomlvylz'us medias) ap.
Sand martin (Hz'rzmdo rz'pm-z'a) ap.

Snake (Coluécr natrz'x) ap.
Horse ant (Formica lwrculemm) ap.

Greenfinch (Lox-I'd c/zlorz's) sings
Ivy (Hedcra lzc/z'x) berries ripe
Periwinkle (I'z'zzca minor) fl.
Spurge laurel (Day/z 716‘ Margo/d) fl.
Swallow (Hz'rmzdo rustz'ca) ap.

Blackcap (Sylvia atrz'capz'lla) heard

‘ui

Young ducks hatched

Golden saxifrage (C/zrysosplem'zmz apposi-
tzfo/z'um) H.

Martin (Hz'rmzdo urln'ca) ap.

Double hyacinth (Hyacz’m‘lms orz'entalz's) H.
Young geese (.4 ”as anser)
Wood sorrel (Ora/2's acetosella) fl.

‘ Ring ouzel (Tzzra’zzs torqzmtzzs) seen
Barley (Harden/u satz'mmz) sown
Nightingale (Sylvia Zuscz'm’a) sings

Ash (Fraxz'zzns arc‘c/sz'ar) fl.

Spiders’ webs on the surface of the ground

Checquered daffodil (Frz'tz'llarz'a melan-
grz's) fl.

 

|
julus terrestrz’s ap. l
Cowslip (Prz'mula veris) fl. 1
Ground ivy (Glecoma lzea’eracea) fl.

Snipe pipes

Box tree (Burns semperm'rens) fl.

Mar.
Mar.
Mar.

Mar.
Mar.
Mar.

Mar.
Mar.

Mar.
Mar.
Mar.
Mar.
Mar.

Mar.

Mar.
Mar.

Mar.

Mar.
Mar.
‘ Mar.
Mar.
Mar.
Apr.

Apr.
; Apr.
Apr.

Apr.
Apr.
Apr.
Apr.
Apr.

\VHITE.

19
19.
19.

2-24

3-24
3-15

Apr.
Apr.

Apr.
Apr.
Apr.

I4

Apr.

Apr.
Apr.

Apr. 1
Apr. 20

May 4

28,

 

 

 

Feb. 4.

- Feb. 16.
1 Feb. 6.

1 Apr.

MARK‘VICK.

Feb. 17. Apr. 25
Mar. 18—25, sits Apr.
4, young ones Apr.

30

Mar. 20, young
hatched

Mar. 22. May 8

Mar. 15. Apr. 30

Apr. 8. May 16,
last seen Sept. 8

Mar. 3. Apr. 29,

last seen Oct. 2

Mar. 26, last
seen Nov. 1

Mar. 6. Apr. 26
May 19

May 7

Apr. 12—22

Apr. 7-27, last seen
Nov. 16

14. May 18,

seen Apr. I4. May

20. last seen Sept.

19

Apr. 6. May 16
Feb. 7. Mar. 27
Apr. 14. May 8, last
seen Dec. 8

: Mar. 13. Apr. 24

[ Mar". 29. Apr. 19
Feb. 20. Apr. 26

V‘ Oct. 11
Apr. 12. May 20
Apr. 5. July 4, last

S Mar.

seen Aug. 29

Mar. 16.
Apr. 15.

May 8
M ay 1

Mar.
Mar.

May 17
Apr. 16

3.
2.

27. May 8

 

S ylm'a I; zlflpola is.

In page 208, Mr. White states

be usually heard on the 25th of March.—W. H.

32 221

this bird to be the chiff-chaff, and to

WHITE. MARKWICK.’

Elm (Ulmus caizzpcstrz's) 1. Apr. 3 Apr. 2. May 19
Gooseberry (Rf/ms grossularia) fl. Apr. 3—14 Mar. 2!. May 1
Currant (li’ilu’s lzo7‘th.s‘z's) fl. Apr. 3—5 Mar. 24. Apr. 28
Pear tree (l’yrm afiflmmzis) fl. Apr. 3. May 21 Mar. 30. Apr. 30
Laccr/a vulgaris (newt or eft) ap. Apr. 4 Feb. I7. Apr. 15,
last seen Oct. 9
Dogs’ mercury (.llcrcnrialis pt’rmzizz's) fl. Apr. 5—19 ! Jan. 20. Apr. r6
W'ych elm (Ulmus glalzra seu mmztazza of Apr. 5 ‘ Apr. 19. May to, 1
Smith) E. l
Ladysmock (Canlamim'pratczzsis) fl. 1 Apr. 6—20 Feb. 21. Apr. 26
Cuckoo (Circa/us mum-us) heard Apr. 7-26 Apr. 15. May 3, last

heard June 28

 

Blackthorn (l’rmmx spinosa) fl. Apr. 7. May IO Mar. 16. May 8
Deathwatch ('l‘crmcspzrlsaz‘orius) beats Apr. 7 . Mar. 28. May 28
Gudgeon spawns . Apr. 7

Redstart (Sylvia l’lm'nivm'us) ap. Apr. 8—28 Apr. 5, sings Apr. 25,

 

last seen Sept. 30

Crown imperial (l’rz’tallaria imflcrialis) fl. ; Apr. 8—24 Apr. I. May 13

 

 

Titlark (.-llamla [firalcm‘ifl sings l Apr. 9—19 Apr. 14—29, sits June
3 16-27
Beech (Fagin .s‘ylvatica) 1. Apr. 10. May 8 Apr. 24- May 25
Shellsnail (Helix m'moralis) comes out in Apr. II. May 9 l May I7- June 11 3P~
troops - l
Middle yellow wren * ap. Apr. 11 l
Swift (/lirmm’o aim) ap. Apr. 13. May 7 1 Apr. 28. May 19
Stinging fly (Canopy calcitrans) ap. Apr. 14. May 17 l
Whitlow grass (Dralva var/1a) fl. Apr. 14 Jan 15. Mar. 24
Larch tree (l’imzs-larix ruln'a) 1. Apr. 14 1 Apr. 1. May 9
Whitethroat (Sylvia cinema) ap. Apr. 14. May 14 a Apr. I4. May 5,5ings
l May 3-10, last seen
Sept. 23
Red ant (Formica ruln'a) ap. Apr. 14 ' Apr. 0. june 26
Mole cricket (Gryllus gryllofal/Sa) churs Apr. I4 '
Secmid willow or laughing wren l ap. . Apr. 14—19-23 5 Apr. IO. June 4
Red rattle (l’alicz/larix sylvatit‘a) fl. ‘ Apr. 15—19 '
Common flesh-fly (.llzm‘va vammria) ap. Apr. 15 l
Ladycow ((‘(n‘vi/zc'lla [Ii/Sundala) a1). Apr. 16 l
Grasshopper lark (.-l lam/a lucuxta' racy) ap. Apr. 16—30 l
Willow wrennt its shivering note heard Apr. 17. May 7 l Apr. 28. May I
Middle willow wren§ (Regulus mm crista- 1 Apr. 17-27 l
ills Haw/ins) ap. ‘ ‘
Wild cherry (l’rmuw c‘crasux) fl. l Apr. 18. May 12 ‘ Mar. 30. May to

Garden cherry (l’rmms c‘crasusl fl. ‘ Apr. 18. May 11 Mar. 25. May 6

 

 

* Yellow wren (Sylvia troclzilus).—\V. H. Hay bird (Trac/zilus asilzzs, RENNIE).
—_I. R.

l \Vood wren (Sylvia silu'lalri.t').—\V. H. ('l‘roc/zilus silrillans RENNIE).—_]. R.

i \Vood wren. \V. H.

§ Yellow wren (Sylvia troclzilus).—\V. H. Hay bird (Troclzilas asilas RENNIE).
—J. R.

222

Plum (Prumts domestz‘ca) fl.

Harebell (Hyacz'nt/zus non-scrz'ptus seu
Scz'lla nutmzs of Smith) fl.

Turtle (Colzmzlza turtur) coos

Hawthorn (Crata’gus seu Mesjz'lus oxy-
ccmt/za of Smith) fl.

Male fool’s orchis (Orclzz's mascula) fl.

Blue flesh fly (M usca vomz'toria) ap.

Black snail or slug (Lz'max ater) abounds

Apple tree (Pyrus-malus satz'vus) fl.

Large bat ap.

Strawberry wild wood (Fragarz’a vesca
syl'v.) fl.

Sauce alone (Erysz'mum allz'arz'a) fl.

Wild or bird cherry (Prmms avz'um) fl.

A 152': H ypnorum ap.

fliusca merz’dz'ana ap.

Wolf fly (A sz'Zus) ap.

Cabbage butterfly (Papz'lz'o Brassz'ca’) ap.

Dragon fly (Lz'bellula) ap.

Sycamore (A cer pseudoplatanus) fl.

Bombylz'us minor ap.

Glowworm (Lampyrz's noctz’luca) shines

Fern owl or goatsucker (Caprz'mulgus Eu-
ro/Sreus) ap.

Common bugle (Ajuga reptans) fl.

Field crickets (Gryllus campestrz's) crink

Chafer or maybug (Scaraéceus melolont/za)
ap.

Honeysuckle (Lom'cera perz'clymemmz) fl.

. Toothwort (Lat/Luca squamarz'a) fl.

Shell snails copulate

Sedge warbler (Sylvia salz'carz'a) sings

Mealy tree (Vz'réurnum Zantana) fl.

Flycatcher (Stoparola or Muscz'capa gris-
ola) ap.

A [52's Zolzgz'corm's ap.

Sedge warbler (Sylvia salz'carz'a) ap.

Oak (Quercus roéur) fl.

Admiral butterfly (Papz'lz'o A z‘alanta) ap.

Orange tip (Papz'lz'o cardamz'nes) ap.

Beech (Fugus sylvatz'ca) fl.

Common maple (A cer campestre) fl.

Barberry tree (Beréerz's vulgarz's) fl.

Wood argus butterfly (Papz'lz’o Egarz’a) ap.

Orange lily (Li/{um éulbzferum) fl.

Burnet moth (Sphinx Fz'lzlzfiemz’ula’) ap.

Walnut (juglans regz'a) 1.

223

 

l

WHITE.

Apr.
Apr.

18.
I9‘25
Apr.

20—27

Apr. 20.
Apr.
Apr.
Apr.
Apr.
Apr.
Apr.

21
21.
22
22.
22.

23—29

Apr.
Apr.
Apr.
Apr.
Apr.
Apr.
Apr.

23
24
24
24.
25
28.
30.

Apr. 30.
May 1
May 1.
May 1-26

May 1
May 2—24
May 2—26

May 3-30
May 4-12
May 4.
May 4
May 5—17
May 10-30

May IO.
May 11—13
May 13—15
May 13
May 14
May 15-26
May 16
lVIay 17-26
May 17
May 18.
May 18.
May 18

' MARKWICK.
May 5 4 Mar. 24. May 6

i Mar. 27. May 8

l

May 14. Aug. 10,

’ seen
June 11 l Apr. 19. May 26

l Mar. 29. May 13
May 23

’ Feb. 1. Oct. 24, ap.
May 25 Apr. 11. May 26
June 11

Apr. 8—9

‘ Mar. 31. May 8

' Mar. 30. May 10
May 28 l
May 20 I Apr. 29. June 15
May 21 } Apr. 18. May 13,

i last seen Nov. 10
June 6 l Apr. 20. June 4

June 11 June 19. Sept. 28

; May 16. Sept. 14
l Mar. 27. May IO
l May 2. July 7
‘ Apr. 24. June 21
June 17 E
l June 2—30
1 Apr. 25. May 22
Apr. 29. May 21
June 9
Aug. 2
Apr. 29. June 4
Mar. 30. May 19
Apr. 23. May 28
Apr. 24. May 27
Apr. 28. June 4
June 11 June 14. July 22
June 13 May 24. June 26
Apr. IO. June 1

 

WHITE.

 

 

Laburnum (Cytz'sus laburmmz) H. May 18.
Forest fly (Hz'ppoéosca eqzzfna) ap. May 18.
Saintfoin (Hedysarum onoéryc/zz's) fl. 1 May 19.
Peony (l’a’om'a oflicz'nalis) fl. 3 May 20.
Horse chestnut (/Esculus lzz'jfipocasta- May 21.
2mm) fl.
Lilac (Syrz'nga vulgarz's) fl. I May 21
Columbine (Aquz'legz'a vulgarz's) fl. ‘ May 21-27
Medlar (x‘l/lcsflz'lzcs germam'ca) H. May 21.
Tormentil (Tormentz'lla erecta seu oflici-l May 21
nalz's of Smith) fl. .
Lily of the valley (Convallarz'a maja-i May 22
12's) fl. i
Bees (Apz's mellzflca) swarm ‘ May 22.
W'oodroof (A sflerm’a odorota) fl. i May 22—25
Wasp, female (I/"espa vulgarz's) ap. i May 23
Mountain Ash (Sorlms seu Pyrus aucu- 3 May 23.
faria of Smith) H. i
Bird’s-nest orchis (Of/177.9 ”I'dzts (1211's) fl. 1 May 24.
White-beam tree (Crata’gus seu Pyrzzs May 24.
arz’a of Smith) fl. ‘
Milkwort (Polygala vulgaris) fl. ‘ May 24.
Dwarf cistus (Cz'stus lzelz’ant/zemmn) fl. 1 May 25
Gelder rose (Vz'rézzrmmz 0152112”) fl. - May 26
Common elder (Sal/Mucus 7zz'gra) H. i May 26.
Cant/Earl's noctz'lz/ca ap. 1‘ May 26
111%: [ongz'corm's bores holes in walks May 27.
Mulberry tree (11707713 m'gra) 1. May 27-
Wild service tree (Crata’gus seu Pyrzrs for- May 27
mz'rzalz's of Smith) fl. .
Sanicle (Sam'cu/a Euroffia’a) fl. May 27-
Avens (Ceum ur/mnum) fl. 1 May 28
Female fool’s orchis (Ore/12's maria) fl. l May 28
Ragged Robin (Lyc/uzz's flos cucztlz') fl. l May 29-
Burnet (Poterz'um sanguisorlm) fl. } May 29
Foxglove (Digitalis flurpurea) fl. 1 May 30-
Corn flag (Gladiolus commum's) fl. May 30.
Sara/Sins Zong'zfol. fl. 1 May 30-
Raspberry (Rulms z'a’ams) fl. I May 30-
Herb Robert (Geranium Roéertz’ammz) fl. 1 May 30
Figwort (Scrap/zularz'a nodosa) fl. ‘ May 3I
Gromwell (L z't/zospermum oficz'mzle) fl. May 31
Wood spurge (Eup/zorbz'a amygda/oz'a’es) fl. June I
Ramsons (A Ilium zzrsz'zzm/z) fl. June 1

Mouse-ear scorpion grass (flfyosotz's scar-i June 1
pz'oz'a’vs) fl.

Grasshopper (Gryllus grossus) ap. ' June 1—14

I June 1—21
224

Rose (Rosa lzortensz's) fl.

June 5
June 9
June 8
June 15

June 9

June 20

July 22

June 8

June 11
June 4

June 7

June 25
June 9
June 13

June 13

June 1

June 22
June 20
June 13
June 21

 

 

MARKVVICK.

May 1. June 23
May 21. July 28
Apr. 18. May 26
Apr. 19. June 7
Apr. 15. May 30
May 6. June 13
Apr. 8. June 19
Apr. 17. June 11
Apr. 27. June 13
May 12. June 23
Apr. 14. June 4

‘ Apr. 2. June 4, last

' seen Nov. 2
Apr. 20. June 8
May 18. June 12
May 3
Apr. 13. June 2
May 4. Aug. 8
May 10. June 8
May 6. June 17
May 20. June 11
May 13. June 19
Apr. 23. June 4
May 9. June 11
Apr. 17. May 20
May 12. June 8
Apr. 30. Aug. 7
May 23. June 15
June 9. July 8
May 10. June 16
Mar. 7. May 16
May 12. June 20
May 10-24
Mar. 23. May 13
Apr. 21. June 4
Apr. 11. June 1
Mar. 25. July 6. last

seen Nov. 3

June 7.

July 1

Mouse-ear hawkweed (H z'eracz'um [Silo-
soZ/a) fl.

Buckbean (Menyant/zes trz'folz'afa) fl.

Rose chafer (Scaraoa'us auratus) ap.

Sheep (0712's arz'es) shorn

lVatorflag (Irz's pseudo-acorns) fl.

Cultivated rye (Seoale coral/e) fl.

Hounds tongue (Cg/noglossum oficz'rzalo) fl.

Helleborine (Serapz'as latzfolz'a) fl.

Green gold fly (M usca Caesar) ap.

Argus butterfly (Papilz'o moera) ap.

Spearwort (Rammculusflammula) fl.

Birdsfoot trefoil (Lotus cornz'calatus) fl.

F raxinella or white dittany (Dz'ctammzs
alous) fl.

P/zryganea m'gra ap.

Angler’s may-fly (Ephemera vulg.) ap.

Ladies’ finger (A Izt/LyZZz's mzlnerarz'a) fl.

Bee orchis (Op/zrys apz'fora) fl.

Pink (Dz'ant/z as deltoz'dos) fl.

Mock orange (Philadelphia ooronarz'us) fl.

Lz'oellula Virgo ap.

Vine (V z'tz's 'w'mfera) fl.

Portugal laurel (Przmus Lnsz’tam‘cus) fl.

Purple spotted martagon (L z'lz'um marta—
gorz) fl.

Meadow cranes-bill (Geranium pratonso) fl.

Black bryony (Tamas communist) fl.

Field pea (Pz'sum satz'vum arvonse) fl.

Bladder campion (Cucuoalns [Se/zen seu
Sz'lone z'nflata of Smith)'fl.

Bryony (Bryom’a aloa) fl.

Hedge nettle (Stac/zys sylwatz'ca) fl.

Bittersweet (Solammz a’ulc‘amara) fl.

Walnut (juglans regz'a) fl.

Phallus z'mpudicus ap.

Rosebay willow-herb (Epz'looz'um angustz'-
folz'um) fl.

Wheat ( Trz'tz'cum lzyoernum) fl.

Comfrey (Symp/zytum oficz’nale) fl.

WHITE.

L June 1.
1

l June 1
l June 2—8

June 2-23

June2
lJunez
'June2

June 2.
1June2
1June2

June3

June3

l
l

l
1 June 3

‘ June 3—14

June 4
l
l June 4.

% June 5—19

l
1 June 5

June 5-20

1 June 7.
3 June 8.

1 June 8—25

5

‘ June 8.
. June 8

1 June 9

; June 9

l

1 June 9

! June 10
1 June 11
! June 12
'1 June 12.

7 June 12

1 June 13.
l June 13

, June 3—11

July 16

Aug. 6

July 4

July 30
July 1

Aug. 1

July 23

July 22

Yellow pimpernel (L ysz'maclzz'a nemorzmz) fl.7 June 13—30

T remella nostac ap.

‘ Buckthorn (R/zamnus cathartz'cusl l.

Cuckow-spit insect (Cicada spumarz'a) ap.

Dog-rose (Rosa cam'na) fl.

Puff-ball (L ycoflera’on booz'sta) a'p.

Mullein (Verbascum t/zapsus) fl.

Viper’s bugloss (Eclzz'um anglz'czmz seu
vulgare of Smith) fl.

Meadow hay cut

‘ June 15.
I June 16
EJunexé

 

June 17.
i June 18

3 June 19

‘ June 19.

225

Aug. 24

June 17, 18

Sept. 3

July 20

 

 

 

 

MARKWICK.
Apr. 19. June 12
Apr. 20. June 8
Apr. 18. Aug. 4
May 23. June 17
May 8. June 9
May 27
May 11. June 7
July 22. Sept. 6
Apr. 25. June 13
Apr. 10. June 3
June 9. July 24
June 1. Aug. 16
May 26. July 6
May 16. June 23
June 18. July 29
June 3. July 16
June 18. July 19
May 15. June 21
May 15. June 21
May 4. July 13
May 13. Aug. 17
May 28. June 24
May 15. June 20
Apr. 18. June 1
June 4. July 28
June 4—30
May 4. June 23
Apr. 10. June 12
May 25
June 2—21
May 24. June 21
May 6. Aug. 19
June IO. July 22
May 27. July 3
June 13. July 7

Stag beetle (Lucanus cermw) ap.
llorage (/forago oflcz'na/is) fl.

Spindle tree (/L'uonymus Ezfra/fimus) fl.
Musk thistle (Carduux nutam') fl.
Dogwood (C'orzzzts .s'ngm'unz) fl.

Field scabious (.S'c'a/zz'osu arwwzsis) fl.

Marsh thistle ((‘arduus [fin/11.51773) fl.

Dropwort (.S‘flirmu flZi/fiwzdu/a) fl.

Great wild valerian (Va/crz'aua oflcz'mz-
It's) fl.

Quail (l’c'rzlz'x C‘oturm'x) calls

 

Mountain willow herb (Ii/)z'luéz'um manta-i
72am) fl. ‘

'l'histle upon thistle (C'ara’uus (wig/511s) fl.

Cow parsnip (/lrrac/cmu .syfi/zondy/ium) fl. I

Earth-nut (/imu'um {Ht/éoc‘astaumu
flexuouull of Smith) fl.

Young frogs migrate

(Extras CHM/I'm zm’a ap.

Vervain (Ir’crécna oficirm/is) fl.

SCU

Corn poppy (l’zz/bam'r 117200115) fl.

Self-heal (l’rum'lla Wit/gun's) fl.
Agrimony (.11 grimom'a cupatur/a) fl.
Great horse-fly (Ta/”2mm lmm'mzs) ap.
Greater knapweed (Cent/2117171 .s'ca/Iz'osa) fl.
Mushroom (zlga rials camfcstrix) ap.
Common mallow (.Malmz sylrrcyfrl's) fl.
Dwarf mallow (.lla/wa rattan/(fulfil) fl.

St. John’s wort (Hy/Sarita”! [far/oratum) fl.
Broom rape (Urn/nutc/u' major) fl.

 

Henhane (/lynscyamus m'ga'r) fl.
Goats-beard ( 'l‘ragopogmz firafenxu) fl.
Deadly nightshade (A train belladonna) fl.
Trufllcs begin to be found

Young partridgcs fly

Lime tree ('l‘z'lz'a liuroflwa) fl.

Spear thistle ((‘arduus [a ”cw/aha) fl.
Meadow sweet (.S‘fiirma ulmarfa) fl.
Greenweed (Cwu'sta tz'nctorz'a) fl.

Wild thyme ('l'lzymus ser/Sy/lum) fl.
Stay/gm gcrma )1 ('6. fl .

Day lily (l/rmcrocallz'sflamz) fl.
Jasmine (jasmz'num qflia'na/c) fl.
Holyoak (/1 Zara raw-a) fl.

xl/Immh'upa Izy/SU/Sz't/zys fl.

Ladies bedstraw (Ga/{um werum) fl.
Cali” m flu/(we‘re fl.

Nipplcwort (La/sand rovuuunix) fl.
Welted. thistle (Ca rduus (want/mid“) fl.

 

226

WHITE.
June 19
June 20
June 20
June 20.
June 21
June 21
June 21—27
June 22.
June 22.

July 4

July 9
July 7
June 22. July 4

June 22

. June 23-29

June 23

June 23

June 23. Aug. 2
June 24
June 24
June 24
June 24
June 24—29
June 24. Aug. 2
June 25
June 26.
June 26
June 26
June 26
June 27.
June 27
June 27
June 27
June 28.
June 28.
June 28.
June 28.
June 28
June 28
June 28
June 29.
June 29.
June 29.
June 29.
June 29.
June 29
June 29
June 29

Aug. 30

July 4

July 29
July 31
July 3I
July 12

July 20
July 4

July 30
Aug. 4
July 23

‘ June 29

 

[ MARKWICK.
‘ June 14—21 I
Apr. 22. July 26
: May 11. June 25
; June 4. July 25
4’ May 28. June 27
June 16. Aug. 14
May 15. June 19
May 8. Sept. 3
May 22. July 21
July 23, seen Sept.
1-18
June 5—21
May 22. July 22
May 27. July 12
May 4—31
June IO. July 17
' Apr. 30. July 15
1 June 7—23

l June 7. July 9

1 June 7. Aug. 14

l Apr. 16. Aug. 16

1' May 27. July 13

May 12. July 30

ll June 15. July 12

l May 9. July 25

3 May 13. June 19

: June 5—14

l May 22. Aug. 14
July 8-28
June 12. July 30
June 27. July 18
June 16. July 24
June 4. July 24
June 6. July 19
May 29. June 9
June 27. July 21
July 4. Sept. 7
June 22. Aug. 3
May 30. July 24

 

Snee'zewort (A chiller: ptarmica) fl.

Musk mallow (ll/2217722 most/mm) fl.

Pimpernel (A 72aga/Zz's a7": Ie7zsz's) fl.

Hoary beetle (56227721722223 salstz't. ) ap.

Corn saw-wort (52 rratu/a a7 Zlensz's seu
Cardzms arweuszs of Smith) ll.

Pheasant 5 eye ( ldom's 2272727221 seu autum-
722212.: of Smith) fl.

Red eyebright (Elly/27223211 seu Ba7tu'a
odoutz't‘es of Smith) fl.

'1 horough wax (82215127227727): 7 otzmdzfal.) fl.

Cockle (4 (nasty/277m Cz't/zago) fl.

Ivy-leaved wild lettuce (P7 e72a7zt/22s 77212-
ralz's) fl.

F everfew (/Waz‘rz'carz'a seu Pyretlzrum
part/2672722772 of Smith) fl.

Wall pepper (Sedum acre) fl.

Privet (Lz'gush [H]! vulgare) fl.

Common toadfiax (A ”arr/227222772 Zz'narza) fl

Perennial wild flax (1.27222771152’7’2’72726) fl.

Whortle-berries ripe (Vaccz'nz'zmz ulzlg.)

Yellow base rocket (Resea’a lutea) fl.

Blue-bottle (Centam’ea cyamts) fl.

Dwarf carline thistle (Carduus acaulz's) fl.

Bull-rush or cats-tail (Dip/2a latzfolz'a) fl.

Spiked willow herb (Lyt/zru 772 salz'carz'a) fl.

Black mullein (Veréascum 721'ge7') fl.

C lzrysmzt/zemum corondrz'zmz fl.

Llarigolds (Calendula oflcz’nalz's) fl.

Little field madder (Slzerardz’a arvensz's) fl.

Calamint (.l/elz'ssa seu Thymus 622122772272-
#222 of Smith) fl.

Black horehound (Ballota nz'gra) H.

Wood betony (Betom'ca oficz'na/z's) fl.

Round-leaved bell-flower (Campanula ro-
tu72dzfolz'a) fl.

All-good (Clzenojfiodz'um 5072 22s Henrz'cus) fl.

Wild carrot (Daucus carota) fl.

Indian cress (Epofiwolunz majus) fl.

Cat-mint (Nepeta catarz'a) fl.

Cow-wheat (.Welampyrum sylvatz'cum seu
pratense of Smith) fl.

Crosswort (Valantz'a crucz'ata seu Galz'um
crucz’atum of Smith) fl.

Cranberries ripe

Tufted vetch (V z'cz'a cracc‘a) fl.

Wood vetch (Vz'cz'a sylvaz‘.) fl. ‘

Little throat-wort (Campanula glomera-
ta) fl.

Sheep’s scabious (jasz'one montana) fl.

1

June 30
June 30
iJune 30.
July 1

l

‘ July 1

July 2

June 2
July 2
July 2

July 2

: July 3
' July 3
July 3
July 4
lJuly 4-24
1 July 5
July 5
July 5-12
‘ July 6
July 6
July 6
July 6
July 6-9
July 7
July 7

July 7
July 8-19
July 8

 

July 8
July 8
July 8-20
July 9
July 9

July 9

July 9-27
July 10
July 10
July 11

July 11

 

227

WHITE.
! June 30

July I7

1
l
I
l
I

l

 

‘ MARKWICK.

1 June 22. Aug. 3
June 9. July 14
May 4 June 22

‘ June 15. July 15

J Apr. 11. July 15
June 20. Aug. 10

May 14. July 25

5 June 2. July 25

l June 19. July 24

3 June 8. July 12

1 June 3. July 13

j June 21. Aug. 3

Apr. 21. July 6
July 19

1 May 15. Oct. 14
June 30. Aug. 4
June 29. July 21
June 24. Aug. 17
May 28. July 28
Apr. 20. July 16
Jan. 11. June 6
July 21
June 16. Sept. 12
June 10. July 15
June 12. July 29
Apr. 21. June 15
June 7. July 14
June 11. July 25
May 2. June 22
Apr. IO. May 28
May 31. July 8
July 28. Aug. 18
June 10. July 25

Pastz'naca sylv. H.

White lily (Li/{um candz'a’um) fl.
Hemlock (Conz'um macu/atum) fl.
Caucalz's ant/27111621.? fl.

Flying ants ap.

Moneywort (Lysz’mac/zz'a 7zummularz'a) fl.
Scarlet martagon (Li/[um C/zalcea’mzi-
(um) fl.

Lesser stitchwort (Std/aria granzz'nea) fl.
Fool’s parsley (fit/1213a cynapz'zmz) fl.
Dwarf elder (Sambucus Elm/us) fl.
Swallows and martins congregate
Potato (So/(mum tuéerosum) fl.

A nge/z'ca 53/17}. H.

ngz'talz'sferrugz'n. fl.

Ragwort (Senecz'ojacoéa’a) fl.

Golden rod (So/z'dago zlz'rgtzurea) fl.
Star thistle (Centaurea ca/cz'lrapa) fl.
Tree primrose (Oenot/zcra éz’enm's) fl.
Peas (Pz'sum satz'vum) cut

Ga/ega oficz’n. fl.

Apricots (Przmus armem’aca) ripe
Clown’s allheal (Stac/zys palusz‘rz's) fl.

Branching Willow-herb (Epz'loéz'zmz ra-'

mos) fl.

Rye harvest begins

Yellow centaury (C/zlora prrfolz’ata) fl.

Yellow vetchling (Lat/zyrus aplzaca) fl.

Enchanter’s nightshade (Cz'rca’a lute!!-
ruza) fl.

Water hemp agrimony (Eupatorz'um can-
7za62'7zum) fl.

Giant throat-wort (Campanula trac/ze/z'-
um) fl.

Eyebright (Eufllzrasia oflcz'nalz's) fl.

Hops (Hzmzulus [zeta/us) fl.

Poultry moult

Dodder (Cuscuta europd’a seu cpiz‘lzymzmz .

of Smith) fl.

 

!

l
l

 

 

Lesser centaury (Gentz’amz seu C/zz'rom'a‘

cmztaurzum of Smith) fl.

WHITE.

July 12
July 12
July I3
July I3
July 13.
July I3

July 14.

July I4
July 14
July 14-29
July 14.
July I4
July 15
July 15-25
July Is
July 15
July 16
July 16
July 17.
July I7
July 17.
July I7
July 1[7

July 17.
July 18.
July 18
July 18

July 18
July 19
July I9
July 19.
July I9
July 20

July 20

Creeping water parsnip (5mm mm’zflo-lt July 20

7 am) fl.
Common spurrey (Sjfiergu/a arwevzsz's) fl.
Wild clover (Trz'folz'um flratense) fl.
Buckwheat (Polygomnzz fagO/Syrum) fl.
Wheat harvest begins
Great bur-reed (Sfiargam'um erectum) H.

l

l

l

l
!

July 21
July 21
July 21
July 21.
July 22

Marsh St. John’ s wort (Hyperzczmz ['70— July 22-31

des) H.

228

Aug. 11

Aug.

 

Aug.

Aug. 14

 

Aug.

Aug.
Aug.

 

I5

Aug. IO

Aug. 23

MARKWICK.
June 21. July 22
June 4. July 20
Aug. 20. Sept. 19
June 14. Aug. 16
June 21. Aug. 6
May 8. June 23
June 9. Aug. 9

Aug. 12. Sept. 8
‘ June 3. July 12
June 22. July 13
July 7. Aug. 29
July 16. Aug. 16
June 12. July 18
July 13. Aug. 15
i July 5. Aug. 16
June 12. July 14
June 15. Aug. 13
. June 20. July 27
July 4. Aug. 6
July 13. Aug. 14
May 28. July 19
July 20. Aug. 17
July 9. Aug. 7
June 3. July 19
July 10. Sept. 11
Apr. 10. July 16
May 2. June 7
June 27. July 10
July 11. Aug. 26
June 10. July 23
June 16. Aug. 10

 

Sun-dew (Drosera rotztntz’zfolz'a) fl. ' P
March cinquefoil (Comarum palusz‘re) fl. .
Wild cherries ripe
Lancashire asphodel (A nt/zerz'cum osszfra- ‘
gum) H. i
Hooded willow-herb (Sendai/aria galerz'»
cu/ata) fl.
Water dropwort ((Enantlzefistulos) fl.
Horehound (Marrubz'zmz vulg.) fl.
Sese/z' caruzfol. fl.
Water plantain (A Zz'sma plantago) fl.
A [opecm'us 171yosuroz'des fl.
Virgin’s bower (Clematis vita/ad) fl.
Bees kill the drones
Teasel (Dz'psacus sylvestrz's) fl.
Wild marjoram (Orz'gzmum vulgare) fl.
Swifts (Hz’rzma’o apus) begin to depart
Small wild teasel (Dzlésacuspz'losus) fl.
Wood sage ( Teucrz'zmz scorodom'a) fl.
Everlasting pea (Lat/zyrus Zatzfolz'us) fl.
Trailing St. John’s wort (Hyperz'cum Im-
mzfusmn) fl.
White hellebore (Veratrum alézmz) fl.
Camomile (A nt/zemz's noéz'lz's) fl.
Lesser field Scabious (Scabz'osa columba-
rz'a) fl.
Sunflower (Helz'ant/zus multzI/Iorus) fl.
Yellow loosestrife (L ysz'mac/z z'a vulgarz's) fl.
Swift (Hz'rzmdo apus) last seen
Oats (A vena satz'va) cut
Barley (Hordeum satz'vum) cut
Lesser hooded willow-herb (Scutellarz'a
minor) fl.
‘ Middle fleabane (Inula dysenterz'ca) fl.
A pz's manicata ap.
Swallow-tailed butterfly (Pafz'lz'o mac/man)
ap.
Whame or burrel fly ((Estrus 602/229) lays
eggs on horses
Sow thistle (Sane/ms arvensz's) fl.
Plantain fritillary (Papz'lz'o cz'nxz'a) ap.
Yellow succory (Pz'crz's lzz'eracz'oz'des) fl.
M usca mystacea ap.
Canterbury bells (Campanula medium) fl.
Meizt/za lonngol. fl.
Carline thistle (Carlz'mz vulgarz's) fl.
Venetian sumach (Rims cotz'nus) fl.
Ptz'n us fed in z'corn us ap.
Burdock (A rctz’um Zappa) fl.
Fell-wort (Gentz'ana amarella) fl.

 

229

WHITE.
July 22
July 22
July 22
July 22

July 23

July 23

July 23 ..
July 24
July 24
July 25
July 25.
July 25
July 26
July 26
July 27-29
July 28, 29
July 28
July 28

J uly 29

Aug- 9

J uly 30
July 30
July 30

July 31.
July 3I
July 31.
Aug. 1—16
Aug. 1-26
Aug. 1

Aug. 2
Aug. 2
Aug. 2

Aug.

Aug. 3
Aug. 3
Aug. 4

Aug.
Aug.
Aug.

Aug.
Aug.

Aug. Sept. 3

 

MARKWICK.
Aug. 1
May 27. July 12
June 21. July 29
June 2. July 31
May 31. July 21
July 13. Aug. 14
July 16. Aug. 3
July 17. Aug. 29
Aug. 5
June 17. July 24
June 20. July 30
May 20. June 22
July 18—22
June 21. Aug. 20
July 13. Aug. 9
July 4. Aug. 22
July 2. Aug. 7
Aug. 11
July 26. Aug. 19
July 27. Sept. 4
Aug. 8. Sept. 7
July 7. Aug. 3
Apr. 20. June 7, last

seen Aug. 28

June 17. July 21
June 6—25
June 5. Aug. 11
July 21. Aug. 18
June 5. July 20
June 17. Aug. 4

l
Wormwood (/1 rim/121w}: aluint/zz'zmz) fl. I
Mugwort (xlrtvm/sz'a rlzt/garz'.s') fl.

St. Barnaby’s thistle (Went/(urea .s‘o/.s't1't.)fl. '
Meadow saffron (Cb/c/u'c'nm (luau/male) fl. '
Michaelmas daisy (Aster '1"rad¢*.s'cant1') fl.
Meadow rue (YYzzt/z'c'trumflamtm) fl.
Sea holly (/z'rylzgz'zulz marz'f.) f‘l.

China aster (Aster (/1 blank) fl.

Bold!” «Mus ap.

Less Venus looking-glass (Campanula lzy- i
[Ir/(la) fl.

('(u’t/mmzm lim‘lor. fl.

Goldfinch (Fr/Izgz'l/u

broods ap.

(a rdzw/is) young .

Lapwings ( Triuga wand/Ms) congregate

flack-eyed marble butterfly (l’apz'lz'o semele) i
ap. l

lirds reassume their spring notes 5

Devil's bit ( Stall/0.51: .ma ('51:) fl. l

'1 histle down floats

I’loughman’s spikenard (Cbnyza squar- :
ram ) fl.

Autumnal dandelion (Lmntodon autum- l
Ila/U) fl.

l’lies abound in windows

Linncts (fi'rz'zzgz'lla li/zota) congregate

Bulls make their shrill autumnal noise

A .s'tc’r a HIP/[ll v fl.

lalsam (/mfialz’mzs dalsamz'na) fl.

Milk thistle (Fan/mm nzarz'anus) fl.

Hop-picking begins

Beech (l'hgns .vy/watz'az) turns yellow

Soapwort (Sn/Irma rz'rz q/ficz'ua/z'x) fl.

Ladies' traces (U/Mzrys s/bz'ra/z's) fl.

Small golden black-spotted butterfly (Pa-
;fi/z'n fi/zt’mas) ap.

Swallow (Hiram/u rustica) sings

Alt/urn frulcr (/lf/n'scus :yrz'zzczts) fl.

Great fritillary (l’a/fi/io [Sufi/tin) ap.

Willow red under-wing moth (I’lzalzena
flac‘ta) ap.

Stone curlew (Otis- (Iv/icncmus) clamours

/ ’/z (I'lrz ”a rnxxu [a ap.

Grapes ripen

Wood owls hoot

Saffron butterfly (Puff/1'0 lzya/e) ap.

Ring ousel appears on its autumnal visit

Flycatcher (fl’lzm'c‘z'ca/fia grim/a) last seen

Beans (I 'z'riz'a fa/m) cut

Ivy (Ila/era ltd/ix) fl.

 

230

Aug.
Aug.
Aug.
Aug.

, Aug.
; Aug.

Aug.
Aug.
Aug.
Aug.

1 Aug.

Aug.

; Aug.

Aug.
Aug.
Aug.
Aug.
Aug.

Aug.

Aug.

I Aug.

Aug.
Aug.
Aug.
Aug.

Sept
Sept
Sept
Sept
Sept
Sept
Sept
Sept
Sept

“'HITE.

MARKWICK.
; July 22. Aug. 21
1 July 9. Aug. 10

 

Sept. 13 Aug. 15. Sept. 29
Sept. 27 Aug. 11. Oct. 8
Sept. 28 i Aug. 6. Oct. 2
May 10
, May 14
l June 15
Sept. 12 : Sept. 25. Feb. 4
l June 22. Aug. 23
Sept. 10 l
l
July 25
Nov. 1 l Aug. 22. Nov. 8
|
l
‘ May 22. July 26
? Apr. 21. July 18
Sept. 17 Sept. 1—15
Sept. 22 Sept. 5—29
July 19. Aug. 23
Sept. 12 Aug. 18. Sept. 18
Apr. 11. Aug. 20
Sept. 2 July 20. Sept. 28
Nov. 7 June 17
Oct. 24 Aug. 31. Nov. 4
Nov. 9 I
Aug. 5. Sept. 26
Sept. 4—30
Aug. 9. Oct. 14
Oct. 2 Sept. 18. Oct. 28

Stares congregate

Wild honeysuckles H. a second time
Woodlark sings

Woodcock (Sco/opax rustz'cola) returns

Strawberry tree (A rbutus unedo) fl.

..Wheat sown

Swallows last seen.
martin the latest)

(N. B. The house

Redwing (Turdzts z'lz'acus) comes

F ieldfare (T urdus pz'larz's) returns

. Gossamer fills the air

Chinese holyoak (A [can rosea) fl.

Hen chaffinches congregate

Wood pigeons come

.Royston crow (Corvus corm’x) returns

Snipe (Scolopax gallz'zzago) returns

Tortoise begins to bury himself

.Rooks (Corvus frugz'legus) return to their
nest trees

Bucks grunt

Primrose (Prz'mzda mdgarz's) fl.

Green whistling plover ap.

Halve/1a mz'tra ap.

'Greenfinches flock

Hepatz'ca fl.

Furze (Ulex euro/ens) fl.

'Polyanthus (Prz'mula polyant/za) H.

'Young lambs dropped

Moles work in throwing up hillocks

Helleborus faetz'a’us fl.

'Daisy (Bel/2's perwzm's) fl.

Wallflower (C/zez'rantlms c/zez'rz' seu frutzl
culosus of Smith) fl.

Mezereon fl.

Snowdrop fl.

IN SESE VERTITUR ANNUS
231

 

Sept.
Sept.
Sept.
Sept.

I Oct.

Oct.
Oct.

Oct.
Oct.

WHITE.

12. Ilov.
25
28. Oct.
29. PJov.
I
3 IJov
4 IJov
.10. Iqov
12. IJov
15—27
I9
20. I)ec
23. I)ec
23. Iqov
25. Iqox
27. Iqov
31. Dec
1
10
13, I4
16
27
.30. I)ec
.4—21
. 7-16
.11-27
.12-23
.14—30
15
I5
.15
.29

I

.23

.29

 

MARKWICK.
June 4. Mar. 21

Oct. 1. Nov. 1, young
ones Apr. 28, last
seen Apr. 11

May 21. Dec. 10
Sept. 23. Oct. 19
Nov. 16

Oct. 1. Dec. 18, sings
Feb. 10, Mar. 21,
last seen Apr. 13

Oct. 13. Nov. 18
last seen May 1
July 7. Aug. 21
Oct. 13. Nov. 17,
last seen Apr. 15
Sept. 29. Nov. 11,

last seen Apr. 14

june 29. Oct. 20
Oct. 7. Dec. 30

Feb. 19

Dec. 16—31

Dec. 31

Dec. 12. Feb. 21
Dec. 26—31

Nov. 5

 

 

 

By F. SCHUYLER MATHEWS.

 

 

Familiar Flowers of Field and Garden.

New edition. With 12 orthochromatic photographs of
characteristic flowers by L. W. Brownell, and over zoo draw-
ings by the Author. Izmo. Cloth, $51.40 net; postage,

18 cents additional.

The new photography’s revelations of nature have found perfect expres-
sion in Mr. Brownell’s remarkable pictures. The beautiful series included in
this new edition will be appreciated by every one, and prized by students and
nature-lovers.

Familiar Trees and their Leaves.

New edition. With pictures of representative trees in
colors, and over zoo drawings from nature by the Author.
With the botanical name and habitat of each tree and a
record of the precise character and color of its leafage.
8vo. Cloth, $1.75 net; postage, 18 cents additional.

Mr. Mathews has executed careful and truthful paintings of characteristic
trees, which have been admirably reproduced in colors. The great popularity
of his finely illustrated and useful book is familiar to nature-lovers. The new
edition in colors forms a beautiful and indispensable 'guide to a knowledge of
foliage and of trees.

_Familiar Features of the Roadside.
With 130 Illustrations by the Author. Izmo. Cloth,
$1.75-

“ Which one of us, whether afoot, awheel, on horseback, or in comfortable
carriage, has not whiled away the time by glancing about ? How many of us,
however, have taken in the details of what charms us ? We see the flowering
fields and budding woods, listen to the notes of birds and frogs, the hum of
some big bumblebee, but how much do we know of what we sense P These
questions, these doubts have occurred to all of us, and it is to answer them
that Mr. Mathews sets forth. It is to his credit that he succeeds so well. He
puts before us in chronological order the flowers, birds, and beasts we meet
on our highway and byway travels, tells us how to recognize them, what they
are really like, and gives us at once charming drawings in words and lines, for
Mr. Mathews is his own illustrator.”—Bost07z journal.

 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.

 

 

 

“A BUTTERFLY BOOK OF BEAUTY.”

 

 

 

How to Know the Butterflies.

By JOHN HENRY COMSTOCK, Professor of Ento-
mology in Cornell University, and ANNA BOTSFORD
COMSTOCK, Lecturer in Nature Study in Cornell
University. With 45 full-page colored plates, and
many illustrations in the text. 8vo. Cloth, $2.25
net; postage additional.

This book is designed as a general treatise on butterflies
and a manual of the species of the United States east of the
Rocky Mountains. It is intended especially for beginners
and for students of nature ; but it will also serve as an in-
troduction to a serious study of this group of insects. This
book is richly illustrated, without a confusing array of figures
of species from remote parts of our country; it contains
brief descriptions of species, but sufficiently full that the
reader can definitely determine the species studied ; and it
gives the more important facts of the lives of our butterflies.

“ This book gives the unscientific reader a direct acquaintance with a
large number of species. in such simple terms that classification is not
difficult, and with the aid of profuse colored illustrations that excite the
admiration of those who have contented themselves heretofore with view-
ing these beautiful creatures on the wing. Butterfly catching is regarded
by many as a cruel pastime, but there are ways of capturing these ephem-
erals which may rightly be regarded as humane and decent, and the
authors, filled with an abounding love of nature. recommend nothing that
is not compatible with their beliefs. Notes of the habitat of each species
and the facts of butterfly life are given abundantly, and, with the pictures,
form an unusually important book. which is certain to widen the circle of
those who know the joys of butterfly collecting."—— 77267 Washington Star,

“ Such blending of tints would seem to be a task fit for the painter
only instead of the printer. Investigation reveals the fact that the work
is a veritable treasure-house of information—perhaps the most carefully
prepared volume yet placed before the public dealing with the subject in
hand.”—St. Louis Globe-Democrat.

“ One of the most interesting, valuable, and beautiful of all the nature
books published this spring.”—Broo,ély7z Standard- Um'mz.

 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.

 

 

. __.—__.___ .__.____.___ , _—_J’

FRANK M. CHAPMAN’S BOOKS.

 

 

 

Bird Studies with a Camera.

With Introductory Chapters on the Outfit and
Methods of the Bird Photographer. By FRANK M.
CHAPMAN, Associate Curator Of Vertebrate Mam-
malogy and Ornithology in the American Museum
Of Natural History. Illustrated with over 100
Photographs from Nature by the Author. Izmo.
Cloth, $1.75.

Bird-Life. A Guide to the Study of Our Common
Birds.

With 75 full-page Lithographic Plates represent-
ing birds in their natural colors, and numerous Text-
Drawings by Ernest Thompson-Seton. Izmo. Cloth,
$2.00 net; postage, 18 cents additional.

The Warblers Of North America.

With contributions from other Ornithologists, and
24 full-page Colored Plates illustrating every species
from drawings by L. A. Fuertes and B. Hossfall,
and halLtones of Nests and Eggs. 8V0. Cloth, $3.00
special net; postage, 20 cents additional.

One Of the leading ornithologists Of the world, Mr. Chapman de-
scribes what he calls “Our most beautiful, most abundant, and least
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Handbook of Birds of Eastern North America.

With nearly 200 Illustrations. Izmo. Library
Edition. Cloth, $3.00. Pocket Edition, flexible
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D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.

 

 

 

By WILLIAM C. EDGAR.

 

 

The Story of a Grain of Wheat.

By WILLIAM C. EDGAR, Editor of “The North-
western Miller.” Illustrated. Cloth, $1.00 net; post-
age, 10 cents additional.

The story of wheat is a marvelous one, and is here
told with all the interest of a narrative. A short chapter
dealing with the character of the berry itself, and its ene-
mies, diseases, and pests, precedes its earlier history from
its probable birthplace in the valley of the Euphrates to
its cultivation in modern times. Then follows a review
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of the fields of France, Germany, and other European
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cussed.

This book will merit the attention of the general
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telling the story which appeals to all human kind—the
story of man’s long-continued struggle for plenty and his
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D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YQRK.