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ANDREW DICKSON WHITE Gay

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THE

NATURAL HISTORY

OF

SELBORNE;

WITH

OBSERVATIONS ON VARIOUS PARTS OF NATURE;
AND

THE NATURALIST'S CALENDAR.

BY THE LATE

REV. GILBERT WHITE, A.M.

Fellow of Oriel College, Oxford.

WITH ADDITIONS AND SUPPLEMENTARY NOTES BY

SIR WILLIAM JARDINE, BART. F.R.S.E., F.L.S., M.W.S.

EDITED, WITH FURTHER ILLUSTRATIONS, A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF THE AUTHOR,
AND A COMPLETE INDEX, BY

EDWARD JESSE, ESQ.

Author of “ Gleanings in Natural History,” &c. &e.

WITH FORTY ENGRAVINGS.

es

LONDON :
HENRY G. BOHN, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN.
1854.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

BAVEN 5 & « «&
BLACK GROUSE .
FALLOW DEER. .
WATER RAT. .
HOOPOE. .. .
BAT SO Cer te Oe

WHEAT-EAR AND WHIN-CHAT

MOUSE . Caan
WEASEL . . . .
FROG . . . .
VIPER OR ADDER .
RING-OUSEL oo.
JACKDAW eg) gs

GOATSUCKER . . -:

SWALLOW . . .
RAT 4. « w& %
cuckoo... .
CROSSBILL . . .
CHAFFINCH . . .
PEACOCK noe
SNOWY OWL . .

OSPREY OR FISHING HAWK

HOUSE MARTIN . .
ROBIN OR REDBREAST

iv LIST OF JLLUSTRATIONS.
1

MISSEL THRUSH . > 2 2
TITMOUSE. . . .
THE HOG - 8

WORMS. «© » «© | ©

SWIET «6 & @ =s «© %
KITE 2 4 @ a wx
SPARROW-HAWK Sh ce
HONEY BUZZARD. . .
NUTHATCH . . . .
MAGPIE Be oo san) fod Ae of
WILD DUCK OR MALLARD .
PARTRIDGES . . . .

CORNCRAKES OR LANDRAILS
HEN HARRIERS . .
GREY WAGTAIL .

GARDEN SNAID . . .

ERRATUM.

Page 18, bottom line, for bark read whole.

A SHORT BIOGRAPHY

OF

THE REY. GILBERT WHITE.

Iv is impossible for any one to read that charming book,
“The Natural History of Selbourne,” or Selborne, as it is
now generally spelt, without wishing to know something of its
author, the Rev. GinzErt WuitTr. We regret, however,
that from his secluded habits in his favourite village, and the
monotony of his life, little is known of him. That little we
will now lay before our readers, which we are the better
enabled to do from having had in our possession for some
years the Diaries of Mr. White, which he kept with great
care and neatness. From these Diaries, a pretty correct
idea may be formed of Mr. White’s habits of life. It
is evident that he was strongly attached to the charms of
rural life, and the tranquillity afforded by his favourite
village, where “he spent the greater part of his time
in literary occupations, and especially in the study of
nature.”

Gilbert White was born at Selborne, at the house where
he afterwards lived and died, on the 18th of July, 1720.
This house was then the residence of his grandmother, his

vi A SHORT BIOGRAPHY OF

‘father residing at Compton, in Surrey. Gilbert White’s
father was the grandson of Sir Sampson White (knighted
by Charles the Second, on his coronation), to whose
memory a handsome monument is placed in St. Mary’s
Church, Oxford.

In the year 1731, his father came to Selborne to reside,
when Gilbert White was eleven years of age. His father,
John White, was the only son of Gilbert White, vicar of
Selborne, and married Anne, only child of the Rev. Thomas
Holt, rector of Streatham, in Surrey. Mr. John White
was a barrister of the Middle Temple, but did not practise
after his marriage. Gilbert, and three of his brothers,
Thomas, John, and Henry, all much interested in the study of
Natural History, were probably indebted to their father for
their early lessons in their favourite pursuits. The brick-
path at the back of the house, in the paddock, at Selborne,
was laid down by him upwards of a century since, ‘that in
his old age he might be able to walk into his field in the:
early morning without wetting his feet. It remains to this
day; the bricks having been double-burned especially for
this purpose. He desired in his will that no monument
should be erected to him, “not desiring:to have his name
recorded, save in the book of life.” He

Every thing relating to the family of Gilbert White must
be interesting. His father was born in 1688, and died in
1759. And of his brothers, one of them, Thomas, was a
Fellow of the Royal Society. To him, Gilbert was indebted
for very many suggestions for his work; and to his influ-
ence the public owe whatever pleasure they may have
derived from its perusal, as it was only with much per-
suasion that the philosopher of Selborne could be induced
to pass through the ordeal of criticism, having a great dread
of reviewers.

This dread was in some degree removed by his brother

THE REV. GILBERT WHITE. vii

Thomas undertaking to give a review of his work in the
“Gentleman’s Magazine,” in which periodical it appeared
in the year 1789. The following extract from it may
interest our readers :—

“Contemplative persons see with regret the country more
and more deserted every day, as they know that every well-
regulated family of property, which quits a village to reside
in a town, injures the place that is forsaken in many material
circumstances. It is with pleasure, therefore, we observe,
that so rational an employment of leisure time as the study
of nature, promises to become popular; since whatever °
adds to the number of rural amusements, and consequently
counteracts the allurements of the metropolis, is, on this
consideration, of national importance.

“ Most of the local histories which have fallen into our
hands have been taken up with descriptions of the vestiges
of ancient art and industry, while natural observations have
been too much neglected. But we agree with Mr. White in
his idea of parochial history, which, he thinks, ought to con-
sist of natural productions and occurrences, as well as anti-
quities: for antiquities, when once surveyed, seldom recal
further attention, and are confined to one spot; whereas
the pleasures of the naturalist continue through the year,
return with unabated attractions every spring, and may be
extended over the kingdom.

“Mr. White is the gentleman who, some years ago favoured.
the world with a monography of the British Hirundines,
published in the Philosophical Transactions, which we
reviewed in a former volume. It is now reprinted, and
the same sagacity of observation runs through the work
before us.

* * * *

“The sliding down of a hill into a valley, in the neighbour-

vill A SHORT BIOGRAPHY OF

hood of Selborne, gives the writer an opportunity of applying
the succeeding apt passage from ‘The Cyder’ of John
Philips :—

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 ?

“ Whether the poet alludes to any actual suit commenced
in consequence of such an event, we are ignorant; but this
quotation reminds us of a real litigation in Syria, between
the owner of a hill and the possessor of some land in the
adjoining dale, which was overwhelmed by its lapse. The
Emir Yousef, before whom the cause was brought, finding
the travelling of mountains, we suppose, to be a casus omissus
in the Koran (the civil as well as religious code of the
Mahometans), decided in a manner satisfactory to all
parties, by generously making good the losses of both
plaintiff and defendant.—Volney’s Travels, chap. 20.

“Letter 53 contains a curious account of the Coccus
vitis vinifera, an insect very pernicious to vines in southern
climates. The vine, having no plants indigenous to England
of the same genus, remains here free from the ravages of
insects, except in this instance; though our other kinds of
wall-fruit, which have been introduced from warmer climates
are annoyed with the insects of the congenerous native
plants. This writer is, we believe, the first who has described
it scientifically as found in this country. But we apprehend
that enthusiastic gardener, Sir William Temple, a century
ago, complains of this nuisance as infesting his exotics.
— Works, vol. 8, p. 209, 8vo, 1757.

“Tf this author should be thought by any to have been
too minute in his researches, be it remembered that his
studies have been in the great book of nature. It must be

THE REV. GILBERT WHITE. ix

confessed, that the economy of the several kinds of crickets,
and the distinction between the stock-dove and the ring-
dove, are humble pursuits, and will be esteemed trivial by
many; perhaps by some to be objects of ridicule. However,
before we condemn any pursuits which contribute so much
to health by calling us abroad, let us consider how the
studious have employed themselves in their closets. In a
former century, the minds of the learned were engaged in
determining whether the name of the Roman poet should
be spelt Vergilius or Virgilius; and the number of letters
in the name of Shakespear still remains a matter of much
solicitude and criticism. Nor can we but think that the
conjectures about the migration of Hirundines are fully as
interesting as the Chattertonian controversy.

“We could have wished that this gentleman had uniformly,
as he has frequently, used the Linnzan names. No naturalist
can now converse intelligibly in any other language than
that of the celebrated Swede. And impartiality compels us
to say, that we are disappointed in not finding a particular
account of the tillage of the district where Selborne is situate.
A person with this writer’s patient observation would have
made many remarks highly valuable. Men of intelligence,
like him, are wanted to promote an intimacy between the
library and the plough. The man of books sees many errors
which he supposes he could correct; while the practical
cultivator laughs at the essays of the theorist. Much the
greater part of renting farmers are prevented, by their
anxiety to wind the bottom round the year, from engaging
in experiments; and many think it nearly criminal to deviate
from the practice of their forefathers; so that, at this day, it
remains for gentlemen of property and enlarged minds to
determine whether it is best to sow three bushels of wheat, .
or one, on an acre of land. In other words, whether there
be not as much corn yearly wasted by superfluous, perhaps

x A SHORT BIOGRAPHY OF

injurious, seeding, as would furnish an annual and ample
supply for the largest city. Though agriculture has of late
been attended to, still he would be one of the greatest bene-
factors to his countrymen in general, who would convince
them that the richest mine of national wealth lies within six
inches of the surface, and who would teach them the most
advantageous method of working it.

“On the whole, we will pronounce that the inquirers into
natural knowledge will find Mr. White to be no unequal
successor of Ray and Derham; and that the History of the
Priory is a curious tract of local antiquity. We should not
hesitate to speak so favourably of this work even though it
had much less rural anecdote and literary allusion to recom-
mend it.”

Having given this short account of a part of Gilbert
White’s family, we will proceed to an account of the
Naturalist himself.

He received his education at Basingstoke, under the Rev.
Thomas Warton, vicar of that town, and the father of
those two distinguished literary characters, Dr. Joseph
Warton, Master of Winchester School, and Mr. Thomas
Warton, Professor of Poetry at Oxford. He was ad-
mitted at Oriel College in December, 1739, and took his
degree of Bachelor of Arts in 1743. In March, 1744, he
was elected Fellow of his College. He became Master of
Arts in October, 1746, and served the office of Proctor, which
he did to the great surprise of his family, as they thought it
would not suit his habits ; but he is said to have performed
his duties ably. It is probable, however, that he was
more observant of the swallows in the Christchurch meadows,
than of the under-graduates in High-street. He had frequent
opportunities of accepting College livings, but his fondness
for his native village—his love of the country and its pursuits,
and especially that of Natural History—made him decline all

THE REV. GILBERT WHITE. xi

preferment. There can be no doubt that the “shades of old
Selborne, so lovely and sweet,” were peculiarly well adapted
for the observations of a lover of nature; and here Mr. White
passed his days either in correspondence with, or in the
society of, amiable friends, and closed them in the 73rd year
of his age, on the 26th of June, 1793.

Mr. White in his earlier days was much attached to Miss
Mulso (afterwards Mrs. Chapone), whose brother was his
most intimate friend, and between them a most interesting
and amusing series of letters took place. These letters
would have been well worth publishing, and it was intended
that this should be done; but when Mr. Mulso’s son was
applied to for Mr. White’s correspondence, the mortifying
answer was returned that they had all been destroyed.
Mr. Mulso’s letters, we understand, are still remaining.

It should be mentioned, on the authority of one of his
nephews, and it may well beimagined, that Gilbert White’s
habits were very temperate, and his temper cheerful and
social. He was often surrounded by his nephews and nieces,
and visited by the respectable gentry of his neighbourhood.
His pleasing manners were duly appreciated by them all.
As long as his health allowed him, he always attended the
annual election of Fellows at Oriel College, where the gen-
tlemen commoners were allowed the use of the common-room
after dinner. This liberty they seldom availed themselves
of, except on the occasion of Mr. White’s visits; for such
was his happy, and, indeed, inimitable manner of relating an
anecdote and telling a story, that the room was always
filled when he was there. Not very long after the publi-
cation of his “Selborne,” Dr. Scrope Beardmore, the then
Warden of Merton College, made the following striking
observation to a nephew of Mr. White’s, from whom the
Editor received the anecdote, and which has proved singularly
prophetic :—

xd A SHORT BIOGRAPHY OF

“Your uncle,” the Warden said, “has sent into the world
a publication with nothing to call attention to it but an
advertisement or two in the newspapers; but depend upon it
the time will come when very few who buy books will be
without it.”

It was to Miss Mulso that Mr. White addressed the
following Suppositious letter from Timothy, his old tortoise,
which may amuse some of his admirers :—

Most respecrep Lapy,

Your letter gave me great satisfaction, being the first that
I was ever honoured with. It is my wish to answer you in your
own way ; but I could never make a verse in my life, so you must
be content with plain prose.

Having seen but little of this great world, conversed but little,
read less, I feel myself much at a loss how to entertain so intelli-
gent a correspondent. Unless you will let me write about myself,
my answer will be very short. Know, then, that I am an
American, and was born in the year 1734, in the province of
Virginia, in the midst of a savannah that lay between a large
tobacco plantation and a creek of the sea. Here I spent my
youthful days among my relations, with much satisfaction, and
saw around me many venerable kinsmen, who attained to great
ages without any interruption from distempers. Longevity is so
general among our species, that a funeral is quite a rare occur-
rence. I can just remember the death of my great great
grandfather, who departed this life in the 160th year of his age.
Happy should I have been in the enjoyment of my native climate,
and the society of my friends, had not a sea-boy, who was
wandering about to see what he could pick up, surprised me as
I was sunning myself under a bank, and whipping me into
his wallet, carried me aboard his ship. The circumstances of
our voyage were not worthy of recital. I onlyremember the
rippling of the water against the sides of the vessel as we sailed
along, was a very lulling and composing sound, which served to
sooth my slumbers as I lay in the hold. We had a short

THE REY. GILBERT WHITE. xiii

voyage, and came to anchor on the coast of England, in the
harbour of Chichester. In that city my kidnapper sold me for
half-a-crown to a country gentleman, who came up to attend an
election. I was immediately packed in a basket, and carried,
slung by the servant’s side, to their place of abode. As we
rode very hard for forty miles, and as I had never been on
horseback before, I found myself somewhat giddy with my airy
jaunt.

My purchaser, who was a good-humoured man, after showing
me to some of his neighbours, and giving me the name of
Timothy, took little further notice of me, so I fell under the
care of his lady, a benevolent woman, whose humane attention
extended to the meanest of her retainers. With this gentle-
woman I remained almost forty years, living in a little walled-in
court, in the front of her house, and enjoying much quiet, and as
much satisfaction as I could expect without society, which I
often languished after. At last the good old lady died, at a very
advanced age, such as even a tortoise would call a great age, and
I then became the property of her nephew.

This man, my present master, dug me out of my winter
retreat, and packing me in a deal box, jumbled me eighty miles
to my present abode. I was sorely shaken by this expedition,
which was the worst journey I ever experienced. In my present
situation I enjoy many advantages, such as the range of an
extensive garden, affording a variety of sun and shade, and
abounding in lettuces, poppies, kidney-beans, and many other
salubrious and delectable herbs and plants, and especially with
a good choice of delicate gooseberries ! But still at times I miss
my good old mistress, whose grave and regular deportment suited
best with my disposition ; for you must know that my present
master is what men call a naturalist, and much visited by people
of that turn, who often put him on whimsical experiments, such
as feeling my pulse, putting me into a tub of water to try if I
can swim, &.; and twice a year I am carried to the grocer’s to
be weighed, that it may be seen how much I am wasted during
the months of my abstinence, and how much I gain by feeding
during the summer. Upon these occasions, I am placed on my back
in the scale, where I sprawl about, to the great diversion of the

xiv A SHORT BIOGRAPHY OF

shopkeeper’s children. These matters displease me ; but there is
another that hurts my pride,—I mean the contempt shown for
my understanding, which these “lords of the creation ” are very
apt to discover, thinking that nobody knows anything but them-
selves. I heard my master say that he expected I should some
day tumble down the ha-ha; whereas I would have him to know
that I can discover a precipice from the plain ground as well
as himself. Sometimes my master repeats with much seeming
triumph the following lines, which occasion a loud laugh :—

“ Timotheus, placed on high
Amid the tuneful quire,
With flying fingers touch’d the lyre.”

For my part, I see no wit in the application, nor know whence
the verses are quoted ; perhaps from some prophet of his own,
who if he penned them for the sake of ridiculing tortoises,
bestowed his pains, I think, to poor purposes. These are some
of my grievances ; but they sit very light on me, in comparison
of what remains behind.

Know then, tender-hearted lady, that my great misfortune,
and what I have never divulged to any one before, is the want of
society with my own kind. This reflection is always uppermost
in my mind, but comes upon me with irresistible force every
spring. It was in the month of May last that I resolved to
elope from my place of confinement ; for my fancy had repre-
sented to me that probably many agreeable tortoises, of both
sexes, might inhabit the heights of Baker’s Hill, or the exten-
sive plains of the neighbouring meadow, both of which I could
discern from the terrace. One sunny morning I watched my
opportunity, found the wicket open, eluded the vigilance of the
gardener, and escaped into the sainfoin, which begun to be in
bloom, and thence into the beans. I was missing eight days,
wandering in this wilderness of sweets, and exploring the
meadow at times. But my pains were all to no purpose ; I could
find no society such as I sought for. I began to grow hungry,
and to wish myself at home. I therefore came forth in sight,
and surrendered myself up to Thomas, who had been incon-
solable in my absence.

THE REV. GILBERT WHITE. XV

Thus, Madam, have I given you a faithful account of my
satisfactions and sorrows, the latter of which are mostly upper-
most. You are a lady, I understand, of much sensibility ; let me
therefore make my case your own in the following manner, and
then you will judge of my feelings: suppose you were to be
kidnapped away to-morrow in the bloom of your life to a land of
tortoises, and were never to see again a human face for fifty
years!!! Think on this, dear lady, and pity,

Your sorrowful Reptile,

Timoruy.

This much is known of Mr. White. Further particulars
of him must be sought in his Diaries, his History of
Selborne, and in his Correspondence. He was, strictly
speaking, an out-door naturalist, following the pursuit with
unwearied diligence, and enjoying the charms of rural scenery
with unbounded admiration.

“ Me far above the rest, Selbornian scenes,
The pendant forests, and the mountain greens,
Strike with delight: there spreads the distant view,
That gradual fades till sunk in misty blue ;
Here nature hangs her slopy woods to sight ;
Rills hurl between and dart a quivering light.”
Mr. WHITE. °
His Diaries were kept with unremitting diligence; and
in his annual migrations to Oriel College, and other
places, his man Thomas, who seems to have been well
qualified for the office, recorded the weather journal. The
state of the thermometer, barometer, and the variations
of the wind are noted, as well as the quantity of rain
which fell. We have daily accounts of the weather,
whether hot or cold, sunny or cloudy: we have, also
information of the first tree in leaf, and even of the
appearance of the first fungi, and of the plants first in
blossom. We are told when mosses vegetate, and when

XVI A SHORT BIOGRAPHY OF

insects first appear and disappear. There are also remarks
with regard to fish and other animals; with miscellaneous
observations and memoranda on various subjects. For
instance, we are told that on the 21st of June, house-martins,
which had laid their eggs in an old nest, had hatched them,
and that when this is the case they get the start of those
that build new ones by ten days or a fortnight. He speaks
with some degree of triumph to having ricked his meadow
hay in delicate order, and that Thomas had seen a pole-cat
run across his garden. He records the circumstance of boys
playing at ¢aw on the Plestor; and that he had set Gunnery,
one of his bantam hens, on nine of her own eggs. He com-
plains that dogs come into his garden at night and eat his
gooseberries, and gives a useful hint to farmers and others,
when he says that rooks and crows destroy an immense
number of chaffers, and that were it not for these birds the
chaffers would destroy everything.

In addition to his remarks on Natural History, Mr. White
recorded in his diaries the visits which were occasionally paid
lum, and carefully notes down the births of his numerous ne-
phews and nieces, (amounting to about sixty-three at the time
his diary closed,) as they respectively came into the world.
He “chronicled”? his ale and beer, as they were brewed by
his man Thomas, who appears to have been his valet, gar-
dener, and assistant naturalist. He takes notice of the
quantity of port wine which came to his share when he
divided a pipe of it with some of his neighbours; and he
makes frequent mention of his crops, his fine and early cu-
cumbers, and the flavour of his Cardilliac peas,—he evidently
passing much of his time in his garden. The appearance
of his neighbours’ hops, the beginning and ending of their
harvests, their bees, pigs, and poultry, are also noticed in
succession, and appear to have added to the interest he took
in rural life.

THE REV. GILBERT WHITE. xvii

Insignificant as these little details may appear, they were
not thought to be so by a man whose mind was evidently
stored with considerable learning, who possessed a cultivated
and elegant taste for what is beautiful in nature, and who
has left behind him one of the most delightful works in the
English language,—a work which will be read as long as that
language lasts, and which is equally remarkable for its
extreme accuracy, its pleasing style, and the agreeable and
varied. information it contains.

In order to enable our readers to enter more fully into
the merits of the “Natural History of Selborne,” some
account of that village, its neighbourhood, and of Mr. White’s
residence, is now given.

Selborne is situated in the extreme eastern corner of
Hampshire, bordering on Sussex. It is about fifty miles
from London, and between the towns of Alton and Peters-
field. It is evident (whatever may be the case at present)
that in Mr. White’s time the village was not readily ap-
proached by carriages. The charming deep sandy lanes in
that part of Hampshire and Sussex, overgrown as they are
with stunted oaks, hazels, hawthorns, and dog-roses, and the
banks covered with wild strawberries, primroses, and pretty
ferns, would in winter be filled with mud, to say nothing
of the cart-ruts. I find amongst Mr. White’s papers the
following pleasing lines, addressed to one of his nieces,
Mrs. J. White, by her father, and signed G. T., and which
will give some idea of the roads of Selborne :—

“From henceforth, my dear M——, I'll no longer complain
Of your ruts and your rocks, of your roads and your rain ;

Here’s a proverb that suits with your cottage most pat,
‘When a thing’s of most worth, ’tis most hard to get at.’

And besides, where to find such another retreat

As the shades of old Selborne, so lonely and sweet,

Where the lovor so freely may languish and sigh,

Where the student may read, and the Christian may die?
b

xvi A SHORT BIOGRAPHY OF

But as now neither lover nor student am I,

(I’m a Christian, I hope, but I wish not to die,)

So nor books, nor a mistress, nor zeal have inspired
My muse to commend what she ne’er has admired.

Yet as mind gives a comfort to deserts and dens,
Makes a turnpike of bogs, and a garden of glens ;
So affection, kind chemist ! I feel, can convert

To the sweetest of sweets what I thought to be dirt.

Be then welcome, dear Selborne, as welcome can be,
As the primrose of May, or the hawthorn to me ;
For ’tis there (may they ever be blest from above !)
Dwell a daughter and son, and the children I love.” *

As Selborne is approached from Alton, the beauty of its
valley is seen as it bursts suddenly into view, and affords a
prospect of great rural beauty. A foot-bridge is thrown
across a deep ravine of rocky bank, at the bottom of
which a little streamlet runs over a road, which is at once
its channel and the carriage-way to the village. From
this spot the precipitous beechen hangers may be seen, so
often referred to by Mr. White; the white tower of the
village church; the snug parsonage, and the pretty cottages,
sprinkled over the landscape.

Farm-houses, with their barns and straw-yards, hop-lands,
and corn-fields, and what is seldom seen in these degenerate
days, a may-pole, add to the beauty of the scenery. :

And here I may be allowed to quote a passage or two
from an article which appeared some years ago in the New
Monthly Magazine, on the village of Selborne, written by
one who appears to have visited it out of pure love for the
memory of Mr. White, and from the pleasure he had derived
from his writings.

“The traveller who would ‘view fair Selborne aright,’
should humour the caprices of our fickle climate, and visit

* [These lines were written by Mr. Gabriel Tahourdin.]

THE REV. GILBERT WHITE. xix

it only when its fields and foliage are clothed in their summer
verdure, or autumnal russet, and lighted up in genial sun-
shine; for its beauty is of the joyous seasons, fitted neither
to be observed by the sullen influence of a rainy day, nor
tcrn by the rude hand of winter. Descending into ‘the
single straggling street’ of which the village consists, my
steps were instinctively directed towards the hanger, and I
soon found myself climbing the winding path which was cut
through the beech-wood in the time of Gilbert White. A
sweeter spot than the interior of this thick covert, with
its craggy slopes, and ‘graceful pendulous foliage,’ it is
impossible to conceive. The effect on entering its cool
shades, and deep twilight gloom, after the full blaze of the
glowing sunshine, was most refreshing, and stole over the
senses with a peculiar delight. The stillness which reigned
around was here only broken by the hum of insects, and the
tinkling of the bells from a herd of cattle, which, the wood-
land being part of the village common ground, were turned
in to graze.. The charm of the scene was much increased
by this rural music, borne through the glades in the hanger.

“ Mr. White’s own house, the successive abode of several
generations of his family, is, of course, the first object of
the traveller’s inquiry. It stands not very far from the
church, and is an irregular, unpretending edifice, which
has evidently been enlarged at different periods, with more
care of interior comfort than of architectural symmetry.
Aided by the old-fashioned neatness of its lawns and gravel
walks, the house preserves the staid aspect of bygone days,
and has apparently undergone no alteration since the death
of the naturalist. It was impossible to gaze on the spot
without recalling to memory those hundred little passages in
his book which, with so pleasing and beautiful an association,
have identified the intellectual pursuits of the man, with the
tasteful purity of his mind, with the every beauty of his

xx A SHORT BIOGRAPHY OF

beloved retreat. The swallows, his favourite object of notice
among the ‘ winged people,’ were at the moment careering
in circles round the house, and twittering among its eaves.
In looking over the garden-fence, I thought of its quondam
tenant, and his old familiar friends, his tortoise, whose habits
he has so quaintly described; and at last the form of the
venerable naturalist himself almost rose up in fancy before
me. In the churchyard is an ancient yew, which I do not
remember that White has noticed, and measuring full sixteen
feet in girth.”

And here we may set this tasteful traveller right.
Although no mention is made of this tree in the Natural
History, it occurs in the fifth letter of the “ Antiquities
of Selborne,” where White says that in the churchyard
of the village is a yew-tree whose aspect bespeaks it to be
of a great age. It seems to have seen several centuries, and
is probably coeval with the church, and therefore may be
deemed an antiquity. The body is short, squat, and thick,
and measures twenty-three feet in the girth, supporting a head
of suitable extent to its bulk. This isa male tree, which in the
spring sheds clouds of dust, and fills the atmosphere around
with farina. We may mention, while speaking of the Sel-
borne churchyard, that on the fifth grave from the north wall
of the chancel, the following inscription may be seen on a
head-stone :—

G. W.

26 JUNE,
1793.
There is “a slight heave of the turf,” and this marks the

humble grave of the naturalist and philosopher, In the church
there is the following inscription on a monument :—

THE REV. GILBERT WHITE. xxl

IN THE FIFTH GRAVE FROM THIS WALL ARE BURIED THE REMAINS OF

Tue Rev. GILBERT WHITE, u.a,,

FIFTY YEARS FELLOW OF ORIEL COLLEGE, IN OXFORD,
AND HISTORIAN OF THIS IIIS NATIVE PARISH.
HE WAS ELDEST SON OF JOHN WHITE, ESQUIRE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW,
AND ANNE, HIS WIFE, ONLY CHILD OF
THOMAS HOLT, RECTOR OF STREATHAM, 1N SURREY,
WHICH SAID JOHN WHITE WAS THE ONLY SON OF GILBERT WHITE,
FORMERLY VICAR OF THIS PARISH.
HE WAS KIND AND BENEFICENT TO HIS RELATIONS,
BENEVOLENT TO THE POOR,
AND DESERVEDLY RESPECTED BY ALL HIS FRIENDS AND NEIGHBOURS.
HE Was BORN JULY 181TH, 1720, 0.8.
AND DIED JUNE 26TH, 1793.
NEC BONO QUICQUAM MALI EVENIRE POTEST,

NEC VIVO, NEC MORTUO..

Few personal reminiscences of Gilbert White are now to
be collected at Selborne. The writer we have quoted states,
that “all an old dame, who had nursed several of the family,
could tell him of a philosophical old bachelor, was that he
was astill, quiet body,” and that “there wasn’t a bit of harm
in him, I’ll assure you, sir,—there wasn’t, indeed.” Alas! for
all the dignity of science, and all the honour that befalleth
“a, prophet in his own country.”

Mr. White died, as we have already said, at the advanced
age of seventy-three, having passed his life with scarcely
any other vicissitudes than those of the seasons. The fol-
lowing letter, with which the editor has been favoured by one
of Mr. White’s family, will show his style of correspond-
ence,—it was addressed to his brother Thomas.

xxii A SHORT BIOGRAPHY OF

Dear Brotuer,

As I have often heard Sir S. Stuart say, that if he had
his timber to sell over again he could sell it for 5002. or 6004.
more than he made of it: and as men seldom have much
timber to sell a second time, you should, I think, retain Mr.
Hounsom as your counsel, and make use of his superior judgment
before you bargain. I hope you will find 4,000/. worth of trees
that are ripe on your estate, and that sum will help much
towards your younger children’s fortunes.

As the blotted will is in the testator’s own handwriting, I fear
that circumstance will go much against us. Our uncle, Francis
White, of Baliol Coll, left three imperfect wills in his own hand-
writing, much interlined with a pencil, and in strange confusion
and obscurity ; but as the parties chiefly concerned were Alder-
man White and our Grandfather of the Vicarage, they were so
wise and moderate as to let law alone, and to settle matters by
reference: so the lawyers were bit.

By all means, when you are more settled, begin laying in a
fund of materials for the Nat. Hist. and Antiquities of this
county. You are now at a time of life when judgment is mature,
and when you have not lost that activity of body necessary for
such pursuits. You must afford us good engravings to your
work, and carry about an artist to the remarkable places. In
many respects you will easily beat Plot: he is too credulous
sometimes trifling, and sometimes superstitious ; and at all times
ready to make a needless display and ostentation of erudition.
Your knowledge of physic, chemistry, anatomy, and botany, will
greatly avail you. The sameness of soil in this county will prove
to your disadvantage ; while the variety of stuff is prodigious ;
coal, lead, copper, salt, marble, alabaster, fuller’s earth, potters’
clay, pipe-clay, iron, marl, &. while we in general have nought
but chalk, But then you must get Benj. to write abroad for
the treatise De creta, and make the most of it, as it is so little
known. Bp. Tanner will be of vast use for the religious houses.
It is to be lamented that Plot was prevented by death from going
on, for he improves vastly in his second Hist., which greatly
exceeds his “Oxfordshire.” We have, you know, an actual Survey

THE REV. GILBERT WHITE. Tai

of Hants, which you must get reduced so as to fold into a folio.
You should study heraldry, and give the coats of arms of our
nobility and gentry : till lately I was not aware how necessary
that study is to an antiquarian : it is soon learnt, I think. There
are in this county 253 parishes, most of which you should see,
The Isle of Wight must also come into your plan.

Time has not yet permitted me to go through half Priestley’s
Electrical Hist. ; but in vol. i. p. 86, I remark that Dr. Desa-
guliers proposed the following conjecture concerning the rise of
vapours :—“The air at the surface of water being electrical,
particles of water, he thought, jumped to it; then becoming
themselves electrical, they repelled both the air and one another,
and consequently ascended into the higher regions of the
atmosphere.” If this be always the case, what becomes of our
supposition, which is, that by contact and condensation, the water
in vapour is drawn from the air to the water, and that abe
upland ponds are mostly supplied ?

Yours, affect.,
Git. WHITE.
I never saw an electrometer. Our neighbourhood is all bad

with colds ; and among the rest myself also: some have eruptive
fevers.

It is hoped that this short sketch of an observant out-
door naturalist, and true lover of nature, will not be found
uninteresting. There is something so pleasing in tracing
Mr. White’s pursuits, in contemplating his kind and ami-
able disposition, and in viewing his benevolent and christian
character, that we cannot but turn to the perusal of his
charming work with increased pleasure and delight when
the writer of it is more clearly placed before us. The
editing of it has been a labour of love and pleasure to the
present writer. Although a very humble follower and dis-
ciple of Gilbert White, he attributes his own pursuits, as
an out-door naturalist, entirely to his example; and with
him can truly declare, that they have, under Providence, by

Xxiv BIOGRAPHY OF TUE REV. GILBERT WHITE.

keeping the body and mind employed, contributed to much
health and cheerfulness of spirits; and, what still adds to his
happiness, have led him to the knowledge of a circle of
friends, whose intelligent communications will ever be consi-
dered a matter of singular satisfaction and improvement.

I am indebted to one of my daughters for the following
short poetical summary of the Rev. Gilbert White’s amiable
character :—

He lived in solitude—midst trees and flowers,

Life’s sunshine mingling with its passing showers ;

No storms to startle, and few clouds to shade,

The even path his christian virtues made.

Yet not alone he lived! Soft voices near,

With whisper’d sweetness, soothed the good man’s ear ;
He heard them murmuring through the distant trees,
While, softly wafted on the summer breeze,

The hum of insects and the song of birds

Spoke to his heart in tones more sweet than words.

Him in those quiet shades the poor might bless,
Though few intruded on his loneliness ;

He fed the hungry, pitied the distress’d,

And smooth’d their path to everlasting rest.
Thus hearing Nature speak in every sound,
Goodness and love in all her works he found,
Sermons in stones and in the running brooks ;
Wisdom far wiser than in printed books,

And in the silence of his calm abode

In nature’s works he worshipp’d nature’s God !

Matitpa Hovustoun.

POEMS,

EELECTED FROM THE MANUSCRIPTS OF THE

REV. GILBERT WHITE.

INVITATION TO SELBORNE.

—e—

Szz, Selborne spreads her boldest beauties round
The varied valley, and the mountain ground,
Wildly majestic! What is all the pride
Of flats, with loads of ornaments supplied ?—
Unpleasing, tasteless, impotent expense,
Compared with Nature’s rude magnificence.
Arise, my stranger, to these wild scenes haste ;
The unfinish’d farm awaits your forming taste:
Plan the pavilion, airy, light, and true ;
Through the high arch call in the length’ning view ;
Expand the forest sloping up the hill ;
Swell to a lake the scant, penurious rill ;
Extend the vista; raise the castle mound
In antique taste, with turrets ivy-crown’d :
O’er the gay lawn the flow’ry shrub dispread,
Or with the blending garden mix the mead ;
Bid China’s pale, fantastic fence delight ;
Or with the mimic statue trap the sight.
Oft on some evening, sunny, soft, and still,
The Muse shall lead thee to the beech-grown hiil,
To spend in tea the cool, refreshing hour,
Where nods in air the pensile, nest-like bower ; *
Or where the hermit hangs the straw-clad cell,t
Emerging gently from the leafy dell,

* A kind of arbour on the side of a hill.
+ A grotesque building, contrived by a young gentleman, who ured on
occasion te appear in the character of a hermit.
B2

4 POEMS.

By fancy plann’d ; as once th’ inventive maid
Met the hoar sage amid the secret shade:
Romantic spot ! from whence in prospect lies
Whate’er of landscape charms our feasting eyes,—
The pointed spire, the hall, the pasture plain,

The russet fallow, or the golden grain,

The breezy lake that sheds a gleaming light,

Till all the fading picture fail the sight.

Each to his task ; all different ways retire:
Cull the dry stick ; call forth the seeds of fire ;
Deep fix the kettle’s props, a forky row,

Or give with fanning hat the 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 convent lies: here wont to dwell
The lazy canon midst 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,t
The mountain-brow commands the woods below :
In Jewry first this order found a name,

When madding Croisades set the world in flame ;
When western climes, urged on by pope and priest
Pour’d forth their millions o’er the deluged East :

* The ruins of a Priory, founded by Peter de Rupibus, Bishop of
Winchester.

+ The remains of a Preceptory of the Knights Templars; at least it was a
farm dependent upon some preceptory of that order. I find it wasa preceptory,
called the Preceptory of Suddington ; now called Southington. :

POEMS.

Luxurious knights, ill suited to defy
To mortal fight Turcéstan chivalry.

Nor be the parsonage by the Muse forgot—
The partial bard admires his native spot ;
Smit with its beauties, loved, as yet a child,
Unconscious why, its capes, grotesque and wild.
High on a mound th’ exalted gardens stand,
Beneath, deep valleys, scoop’d by Nature’s hand.
A Cobham here, exulting in his art,
Might blend the general’s with the gardener’s part ;
Might fortify with all the martial trade
Of rampart, bastion, fosse, and palisade ;
Might plant the mortar with wide threat’ning bore,
Or bid the mimic cannon seem to roar.

Now climb the steep, drop now your eye below
Where round the blooming village orchards grow ;
There, like a picture, lies my lowly seat,

A rural, shelter’d, unobserved retreat,

Me far above the rest Selbornian scenes,

The pendent forests, and the mountain greens,
Strike with delight ; there spreads the distant view,
That gradual fades till sunk in misty blue:

Here Nature hangs her slopy woods to sight,

Rills purl between and dart a quivering light.

SELBORNE HANGER.

A WINTER PIECE, TO THE MISS B**+***5,

Tue bard, who sang so late in blithest strain

Selbornian prospects, and the rural reign,

Now suits his plaintive pipe to sadden’d tone,

While the blank swains the changeful year bemoan.
How fallen the glories of these fading scenes!

The dusky beech resigns his vernal greens ;

The yellow maple mourns in sickly hue,

And russet woodlands crowd the dark’ning view.

‘

an

POEMS.

Dim, clust’ring fogs involve the country round,
The valley and the blended mountain ground
Sink in confusion ; but with tempest-wing
Should Boreas from his northern barrier spring,
The rushing woods with deaf’ning clamour roar,
Like the sea tumbling on the pebbly shore.
When spouting rains descend in torrent tides,
See the torn zigzag weep its channel’d sides :
Winter exerts its rage ; heavy and slow,

From the keen east rolls on the treasured snow ;
Sunk with its weight the bending boughs are seen,
And one bright deluge whelms the works of men.
Amidst this savage landscape, bleak and bare,
Hangs the chill hermitage in middle air ;

Its haunts forsaken, and its feasts forgot,

A leaf-strown, lonely, desolated cot !

Is this the scene that late with rapture rang,
Where Delphy danced, and gentle Anna sang ?
With fairy step where Harriet tripp’d so late,
And, on her stump reclined, the musing Kitty sate ?

Return, dear nymphs ; prevent the purple spring,
Ere the soft nightingale essays to sing ;

Ere the first swallow sweeps the fresh’ning plain,
Ere love-sick turtles breathe their amorous pain ;
Let festive glee th’ enliven’d village raise,

Pan’s blameless reign, and patriarchal days ;
With pastoral dance the smitten swain surprise,
And bring all Arcady before our eyes.

Return, blithe maidens ; with you bring along
Free, native humour ; all the charms of song ;
The feeling heart, and unaffected ease ;

Each nameless grace and ev’ry power to please.

Nov. 1, 1763,

POEMS. q

ON THE RAINBOW.*

“Look upon the Rainbow, and praise him that made it: very beautiful is it
in the brightness thereof.”—Zecles., xliii. 11.

On morning or on evening cloud impress’d,

Bent in vast curve, the watery meteor shines

Delightfully, to th’ levell’d sun opposed :

Lovely refraction ! while the vivid brede

In listed colours glows, th’ unconscious swain,

With vacant eye, gazes on the divine

Phenomenon, gleaming o’er the illumined fields,

Or runs to catch the treasures which it sheds.
Not so the sage: inspired with pious awe,

He hails the federal arch ;+ and looking up,

Adores that God, whose fingers form’d this bow

Magnificent, compassing heaven about

With a resplendent verge, “ Thou mad’st the cloud,

“Maker omnipotent, and thou the bow ;

“ And by that covenant graciously hast sworn

“ Never to drown the world again : { henceforth,

“ Till time shall be no more, in ceaseless round,

“Season shall follow season: day to night,

“Summer to winter, harvest to seed time,

“Heat shall to cold in regular array

“Succeed.”—Heav’n taught, so sang the Hebrew bard §

A HARVEST SCENE.

Waxszp by the gentle gleamings of the morn,
Soon clad, the reaper, provident of want,
Hies cheerful-hearted to the ripen’d field :
Nor hastes alone : attendant by his side

* This and the following poem were published in the Gentleman’s Magazine
for 1783, page 955, as imitations of an old poet.—Ep.
+ Gen., ix. 12—17. t Gen., viii 22. § Moses.

POEMS.

His faithful wife, sole partner of his cares,
Bears on her breast the sleeping babe ; behind,
With steps unequal, trips her infant train ;
Thrice happy pair, in love and labour join’d!

All day they ply their task ; with mutual chat,
Beguiling each the sultry, tedious hours.

Around them falls in rows the sever’d corn,
Or the shocks rise in regular array.

But when high noon invites to short repast,
Beneath the shade of sheltering thorn they sit,
Divide the simple meal, and drain the cask :

The swinging cradle lulls the whimpering babe
Meantime ; while growling round, if at the tread
Of hasty passenger alarm’d, as of their store
Protective, stalks the cur with bristling back,

To guard the scanty scrip and russet frock.

ON THE DARK, STILL, DRY, WARM WEATHER,

OCCASIONALLY HAPPENING IN TUE WINTER MONTHS.

Tw’ imprison’d winds slumber within their caves,
Fast bound : the fickle vane, emblem of change,
Wavers no more, long settling to a point.

All Nature nodding seems composed: thick steams,
From land, from flood up-drawn, dimming the day,
“Like a dark ceiling stand :” slow through the air
Gossamer floats, or, stretch’d from blade to blade,
The wavy net-work whitens all the field.

Push’d by the weightier atmosphere, up springs
The ponderous mercury, from scale to scale
Mounting, amidst the Torricellian tube.*

While high in air, and poised upon his wings,
Unseen, the soft, enamour’d woodlark runs

* The barometer,

POEMS.

Through all his maze of melody ; the brake,
Loud with the blackbird’s bolder note, resounds.

Sooth’d by the genial warmth, the cawing rook
Anticipates the spring, selects her mate,

Haunts her tall nest-trees, and with sedulous care
Repairs her wicker eyrie, tempest-torn.

The ploughman inly smiles to see upturn
His mellow glebe, best pledge of future crop :
With glee the gardener eyes his smoking beds ;
Fen pining sickness feels a short relief.

The happy schoolboy brings transported forth
His long-forgotten scourge, and giddy gig :

O’er the white paths he whirls the rolling hoop,
Or triumphs in the dusty fields of taw.

Not so the museful sage :—abroad he walks
Contemplative, if haply he may find
What cause controls the tempest’s rage, or whence,
Amidst the savage season, Winter smiles.

For days, for weeks, prevails the placid calm.
At length some drops prelude a change: the sun
With ray refracted, bursts the parting gloom,
When all the chequer’d sky is one bright glare.

Mutters the wind at eve ; th’ horizon round
With angry aspect scowls: down rush the showerv,
And float the deluged paths, and miry fields.

THE

NATURAL HISTORY OF SELBORNE.

IN 4 SERIES OF LETTERS ADDRESSED TO
THOMAS PENNANT, Ese.
AND

THe Hon. DAINES BARRINGTON.

THE

NATURAL HISTORY OF SELBORNE.

LETTER I.
TO THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

Tue parish of Selborne lies in the extreme eastern corner of
the county of Hampshire, bord2ring on the county of Susses,
and not far from the county of Surrey; is about fifty miles
south-west of London, 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, Faringdon, Harteley, Mauduit,
Great Ward-le-ham, Kingsley, 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. The covert of this emi-
nence is altogether beech, the most lovely of all forest trees,
whether we consider its smooth rind or bark, its glossy
foliage, or graceful pendulous boughs.* The down, or

* The beech is certainly a beautiful tree, either when planted singly or in
lumps ; but I cannot agree with our author, in thinking it the “ most lovely
of all forest trees.” The ash and birch, and perhaps the Huntingdon willow,

14 VILLAGE OF SELBORNE.

sheep-walk, is a pleasing park-like spot, of about one mile
by half that space, jutting out on the verge of the hill-
country, 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. The prospect 1s
bounded to the south-east and east by the vast range of
mountains, called the Sussex Downs; by Guild-down, near
Guildford, and by the Downs round Dorking, and Ryegate
in Surrey, to the north-east; which altogether, with the
country beyond Alton, and Farnham, form a noble and
extensive 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
trom 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 a
serves 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 on the chalks.

The cart-way of the village divides, in a remarkable

are certainly more elegant and graceful: the former, I think, has been termed
by Gilpin, the “ Venus” of British trees. The plane and horse-chestnut will
outvie it in a dense and deep rich foliage, while the oak will far outstrip all in
an imposing and venerable aspect. The beech was formerly much more
planted than at present. It was admirably suited for the landscape gardening
of the last century ; and the wood was of more value, being much in request
for various parts of machinery, which the extensive use of iron has now super-
seded.— W.. J.

We quite agree with Mr. White in his praise of the beech tree. When
we consider the beauty of its velyct green leaves, as they first burst forth in
the spring, and its glowing russet foliage in the autumn, and then look at
its silvery bark, and bold projecting roots, both here and there covered with
verdant mosses, it is impossible not to allow it to be “the most lovely of all
forest trees.”? Those who have seen the Burnham beeches, the noble beech
trees in Windsor Great Park and its adjoining forest, and those in a forest
between Henley-on-Thames and Petsworth, will not be inclined to concur
with Sir William Jardine, in preferring the ash, birch, and Huntingdon
willow, to it. What are more graceful than the pendulous branches of the
beech, covered with hoar frost in winter }—Ep.

STREAMS. 15

manner, two very incongruous soils. To the south-west is
arank clay, that requires the labour of years to render it
mellow; while the gardens to the north-east, and small
enclosures 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 at the north-west
end frequently fails; but the other is a fine perennial spring,
little influenced by drought or wet seasons, called Well-.
head.* This breaks out of some high grounds adjoining to
Nore Hill, a noble chalk promontory, remarkable for sending
forth two streams into two different seas. The one to the
south becomes a branch of the Arun, running to Arundel,
and 60 falling into the British Channel; the other to the
north. The Selborne stream makes one branch of the Wey;
and, meeting the Blackdown stream at Hedleigh, 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 Weybridge ;
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 element, but which does not lather
well with soap.

To the north-west, north, and east, of the village, is a
range of fair enclosures, consisting of what is called a white
malm, a sort of rotten or rubble stone, which, when turned
up to the frost and rain, moulders to pieces, and becomes
manure to itself.t

Still on to the north-east, and a step lower, is a kind of

* This spring produced, September 14, 1781, after a severe hot summer,
and a preceding dry spring and winter, nine gallons of water in a minute, which
is five hundred and forty in an hour, and twelve thousand nine hundred and
sixty, or two hundred and sixteen hogsheads in twenty-four hours, or one
natural day. At this time many of the wells failed, and all the ponds in the
vales were dry.

+ This soil produces good wheat and clover.

16 VILLAGE CF SELBORNE.

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 Wolmer Forest,
at the juncture of the clays and sand, the soil becomes a wet,
sandy tm, remarkable for timber, and infamous for roads.
The oaks of Temple and Blackmoor stand high in the esti-
mation of purveyors, and have furnished much naval timber ;
while the trees on the freestone grow large, but are what
workmen call shakey, and so brittle as often to fall to pieces
in sawing.* Beyond the sandy loam the soil becomes a
hungry lean sand, till it mingles with the forest; and will
produce little without.the assistance of lime and turnips.

LETTER IT.
TO THE SAME.

In the court of Norton farm-house, a manor farm to the
north-west of the village, on the white malms, stood within
these twenty years a broad-leaved elm, or wych hazel, ulmus
folio latissimo scabrot of Ray, which, though it had lost a
considerable leading bough in the great storm in the year

* The common larch is very soon lost when planted above a substratum of
red sandstone. In the Vale of the Annan, wherever the sloping banks have a
substratum of this rock, or one composed of a sort of red sandstone, shingle, or
gravel, the outward decay of the tree is visible at from fifteen to twenty-five
years of age. The internal decay commences sooner, according to the depth
of the upper soil, in the centre of the trunk, at the root, in the wood being of
a darker colour, extending by degrees in circumference and up the stem, until
the lower part of it becomes entirely deprived of vegetation, and assumes a
tough and corky appearance. This extends to the whole plant, which gradually
decays and dies. On the same soil the oak grows and thrives well.

The “ freestone” to which Mr. White refers, is the white or grey, and may
have a diffcrent effect on these trees.— W. J.

+ The ulmus montana, Sir J. E. Smith, and the most common in Scotland.
There are four additional specics admitted into the Flora of Great Britain
which are now to be generally met with in the plantations made within the
last twelve or fifteen years—W. J.

BROAD-LEAVED ELM. ~ 17

1708, equal to a moderate tree, yet, when felled, contained
eight loads of timber ; and being too bulky for a carriage,
was sawn off at seven feet above the butt, where it measured
near eight feet in 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.t In the centre
of the village, and near the church, is a square piece of
ground, surrounded by houses, and vulgarly called the
Plestor.{ In the midst of this spot stood, in olden times, a

* The dimensions here alluded to are insignificant, when compared with
those of a wych elm recorded by Mr. Evelyn, growing in Sir Walter Bagoi’s
park, in the county of Stafford, which, after two men had been five days
felling, lay 40 yards in length, and was at the stool 17 feet diameter. It broke
in the fall, 14 loads of wood: 48 in the top: yielding 8 pair of naves, 8660
feet of boards and planks; it cost 102. 17s. the sawing. The whole esteemed
97 tons—Evetyn’s Sylva, ii. 189.

Pitte’s elm, in the Vale of Gloucester, was, in 1783, about’80 feet high, and
the smallest girth of the principal trunk was 16 feet.—W. J.

Dr. Plot mentions an elm growing on Blechington Green, which gave recep-
tion and harbour to a poor great-bellied woman, whom the inhospitable people
would net receive into their houses, who was brought to bed in it of a son, now
a lusty young fellow.—Puor's Oafordshire.—W. J.

+ One of the largest wych elms in England is now growing and flourishing
in the grounds of Mr. and Lady Charlotte Penrhyn, at Sheen, Surrey. Two
hundred persons lately sat down to a déedéner under the shade of its spreading
branches.— Ep. .

Our largest trees are quite insignificant when compared with one our present
excellent bishop of New Zealand discovered in one of the Tonga Islands, a
part of his diocese. In a letter to his father he mentions, that having measured
it, he found it 23 fathoms, or 138 feet in circumference! Humboldt, in his
very interesting work, “ Views of Nature,” has a chapter on the age and size
of trees, in which he mentions the pine tree, “ Zaxodium distichon,” as
measuring above 40 feet in diameter—See Bohn’s edition, p. 274. Other
remarkable examples will be found in Loudon’s Arboretum.—Ep.

+ Sir W. Jardine gives the following explanation of the Plestor, in the
Antiquities of Selborne. It appears to have been left asa sort of redeeming
offering by Sir Adam Gordon, in olden times an inhabitant of Selborne, well
known in English history during the reign of Henry III., particularly as a
leader of the Mountfort faction. Myr. White says :—“ As Sir Adam began to
advance in years, he found his mind influenced by the prevailing opinion of the
reasonableness and efficacy of prayers for the dead ; and, therefore, in conjunc-
tion with his wife Constantia, in the year 1271, granted to the prior and
convent of Selborne all his right and claim to a certain place, placea, called
La, Pleystow, in the village aforesaid, ‘in liberam, puram, et perpetuam
clemosinam,’ (for free charitable purposes). This pleystow, locus ludorwm,
or play-place, is in a level area near*the church, of about 44 yards by 36, and
1s known now by the name of Plestor. It continues still, as it was in old

ec

18 LARGE OAKS.

vast oak,* with a short 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 former 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 certainly have been, as
appears from what is known concerning the antiquities of

the village.t

times, to be the scene of recreation for the youths and children of the neigh-
bourbood ; and impresses an idea on the mind, that this village, even in Saxon
times, could not be the most abject of places, when the inhabitants thought
proper to assign so spacious a spot for the sports and amusements of its young
people.”—W. J.

* Two species of oak only are admitted into the British Flora, guercus
robur, and sessiliflora. Several others, however, have been introduced, and
grow well; the quercus robur is, nevertheless, superior to all of them. The
other species are said to be more susceptible of the dry rot.—W. J.

+ The celebrated Cowthorpe oak, upon an estate near Wetherby, belonging
to the Right Hon. Lady Stourton, measures, within three feet of the surface,
16 yards in circumference, and close by the ground, 26 yards. Its height is
about 80 feet, and its principal limb extends 16 yards from the boll. The
Greendale oak, at a foot from the ground, is in circumference 38 feet 10 inches.
The Shire oak covers nearly 707 square yards; the branches stretching into
three counties,—York, Nottingham, and Derby. The Fairlop oak in Essex,
at a yard from the ground, is 36 feet in circumference. Damory’s oak, in
Dorsetshire, at the ground, was in circumference 68 feet, and, when decaying,
became hollow, forming a cavity capable of containing 20 men. An oak, felled
at Withy Park, Shropshire, in 1697, was 9 feet in diameter without the bark.
The Baddington oak, in the Vale of Gloucester, was 54 feet in circumference
at the base; and Wallace’s oak, in Torwood, in the county of Stirling, must
have been at ieast 11 or 12 feet in diameter—W. J.

The Galynos oak was one of the largest trees of the kind in England on
record. It grew in the county of Monmouth. Five men were each twenty
days in stripping and cutting it down; and a pair of sawyers were constantly
employed 138 days in its conversion, The expense alone of doing this was
827. The main trunk of the tree was nine feet and a half in diameter. It
had been improving for 400 years, as found from the rings in its butt. When
standing, it overspread 452 square yards. Its produce was 2426 feet of solid
timber, as ascertained from the navy office returns. The bark produced -600
pounds.—Ep.

Tur RAVEN. (Corvus Cora.)

THE RAVEN TREE. 19

On the Blackmoor estate there is a small wood called
Losel’s, of a few acres, that was lately furnished 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 purveyor find in this
little wood, with this’ advantage, that many of them
answered the description at sixty feet. These trees were
sold for £20 a-piece. «

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 residence for such a series of years,
that the oak was distinguished by the title of the Raven
Tree. Many were the attempts of the neighbouring youths
to get at this eyrie: 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 thé most
daring lads were awed, and acknowledged the undertaking
to be too hazardous. So the ravens built on, nest upon
nest, in perfect 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.t

* The greater part of these trees still support the bridge ED.

+ A similar instance of parental affection occurred, » few years ago, in
Richmond Park. Some tall spindly trees had to be taken down. A squirrel
had built her drey on the top of one of them, and had just brought forth some
young. The axe was applied to the roots of the tree; the cord swayed it
backwards and forwards; and at last it fell ; and the affectionate mother was
killed in the fall, refusing to the last to quit her a ra offspring. —Eb.

Cc

20 CURIOUS FOSSIL SHELLS.

LETTER III.
TO THE SAME.

Tur 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 appearance, which, to an incurious eye, seems like a
petrified fish of about four inches long, the cardo passing
for a head and mouth. It is in reality a bivalve of the
Linnean genus of mytilis, and the species of crista galli:
called by Lister, rastellum ; by Rumphius, ostrewm plicatum
minus ; by D’ Argenville, awris porci, s. crista galli ; 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 engrav-
ing frém a perfect one. In the superb museum at Leicester
House, permission was given me to examine for this article ;
and though I was disappointed 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.

Cornua ammonis* are very common about this village. 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 considerable size. In the
lane above Wellhead, in the way to Emshot, they abound in

* There is a village in the west of England, remarkable for the quantity it
possesses of the “ Cornu ammonis.” The name of it is Keynsham, betwecn
Bath and Bristol. This has given rise to a fabulous legend, which says that
St. Keyna, from whom the place takes its name, resided here in a solitary
wood, full of vencmous serpents, and her prayers converted them into stones,
which still retain their shape.—See Espriella’s Letters from England, vol. iii,
p. 862.—Rev. J. Mitrorp.

FREESTONE. 21

the bank, in a darkish 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, I
have occasionally observed them of large dimensions, perhaps
fourteen or sixteen inches in diameter. But as these did
not consist of firm stone, but were formed of a kind of terra
lapidosa, or hardened clay, as soon as they were exposed to
the rains and frost, they mouldered away. These seemed as
if they were a very recent production. In the chalk-pit, at
the north-west end of the Hanger, large nautili are some-
times observed.

In the very thickest strata of our freestone, and at con-
siderable depths, well diggers often find large scallops, or
pectines, having both shells deeply striated, and ridged and
furrowed alternately. They are highly impregnated with, if
not wholly composed of, the stone of the quarry.

LETTER IV.
TO THE SAME.

As, in last letter, the freestone of this place has been only
mentioned incidentally, I shall here become more particular.

This stone is in great request for hearth-stones, 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 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

* There may, probably, be also in the chalk itself, that is burnt for lime
a proportion of sand ; for few chalks are so pure as to have none.

22 SANDSTONE.

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
surbedded, but laid in the same position that it grows in the
quarry.* 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.t 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 mineral 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 valuable species of
fencing, much in use in this village; and for mending of
roads. This rug is ragged 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 considerable 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 Wolmer 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 together 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 becoming slippery
in frost or rain ; is excellent for dry walls, and is sometimes
used in buildings. In many parts of that waste, it lies

* To surbed stone is to set it edgewise, contrary to the posture it had in the
quarry, says Dr. Plot.—Ozfordsh. p.77. But surbedding does not succeed in
our dry walls; neither do we use it so in ovens, though he says it is best for
Teynton stone,

+ “ Firestone is full of salts, and has no sulphur ; must be close grained,
and have no interstices. Nothing supports fire like salts; saltstone perishes
exposed to wet and frost.”—Plot’s Staff. p. 152, |

MANOR OF SELBORNE. 23

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 occasioned strangers sometimes to ask
us pleasantly, “Whether we fastened our walls together
with tenpenny nails ?”

LETTER VY.
TO THE SAME.

Amone 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
pee down into them, from the paths above, and make timid

orsemen shudder while they ride along them; but delight
the naturalist with their various botany, and particularly
with their curious filices, with which they abound.*

* The deep lanes in this part of Hampshire and Sussex are truly charming,
from the roots of trees twisting themselves, as they do, in fantastic shapes

24 RAIN.

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 phea-
sants, abound ; and in old days, woodcocks were as plentiful.
There are few quails, because they more afiect open fields
than enclosures; after harvest some few land-rails 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 in the business, 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 considerable,
as may be supposed in so woody and mountainous a, district.
As my experience in measuring the water is but of short
‘date, I am not qualified to give the mean quantity.* I only
know that

Inch. Hund.

From May 1, 1779, to the end of the year, there fell . 28 37!
From Jan. 1, 1780, to Jan. 1, 1781 5 - . 27 32
From Jan. 1, 1781, to Jan. 1,1782 . P % « 80 FL
From Jan. 1, 1782, to Jan. 1, 1783 x « «2 S0 26!
From Jan. 1, 1783, to Jan. 1, 1784 . ¥ % . 83 71
From Jan. 1, 1784, to Jan. 1, 1785 . A - . 33 80
From Jan. 1, 1785, to Jan. 11,1786 . ss - » BL 55
From Jan. 1, 1788, to Jan. 1, 1787 '< . . 89 57

The village of Selborne, and large hamlet of Oakhanger,
with the single farms, and many scattered houses along the

among the rocky strata;—the quantity of wild flowers,—the pretty mosses
covering the rocks and roots,—the trickling water over head,—and the shade
afforded by overhanging trees and shrubs.—Eb.

* 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 measured it for a very long period. “1f 1 had only measured
the rain,” says he, “for the four first years from 1740 to 1743, I should have
said the mean rain at Lyndon was 164 inches for the year; if from 1740 to
1750, 184 inches. The mean rain before 1763 was 20:; from 1763 and since,
253; from 1770 to 1780, 26. If only 1773, 1774, and 1775 had been
measured, Lyndon mean rain would have been called 32 inches,—increasing
from 16°6 to 32.

POOR. 25

verge of the forest, contain upwards of six hundred and
seventy inhabitants.

We abound with poor; many of whom are sober and
industrious, and live comfortably, in good stone or brick
cottages, which are glazed, and have chambers 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 harvest 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 neighbouring town, by some of the people called Quakers.
The inhabitants enjoy a good share of health and longevity ,
and the parish swarms with children.

LETTER VI.
TO THE SAME.

Suovtp 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 vegetable; and has often atforded me much
entertainment, both as a sportsman and as a naturalist.*
The royal Forest of Wolmer 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 proceed eastward—by the parishes of
Greatham, Lysse, Rogate, and Trotton, in the county of
Sussex ; by Bramshot, Hedleigh, and Kingsley. This royalty

* Wolmer Forest has partly been enclosed and planted by the Crown, and
the shooting over it, with the large pond, so often mentioned by Mr. White,
leased to Sir Charles Taylor, Bart., of Hollycombe.—Ep,

26 WOLMER FOREST.

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 subterraneous trees; though Dr. Plot says
positively,* “that there never were any fallen trees hidden in
the mosses of the southern counties.”’ But he was mistaken ;
for I myself have seen cottages on the verge 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.t 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 examination, and
trial by fire, I could discover nothing resinous in them:

* See his Hist. of Staffordshire.

+ Old people have assured me, that, on a winter's morning, they have dis-
covered 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.
Dr. Hales saith, “ That the warmth of the earth, at some depth under ground,
has an influence in promoting a thaw, as well as the change of the weather
from a freezing to a thawing state, is manifest, from this observation, viz.,
Nov. 29, 1731, a little snow having fallen in the night, it was, by eleven the
next morning, mostly melted away on the surface of the earth, except in
several places in Bushy Park, where there were drains dug and covered with
earth, on which the snow continued to lie, whether those drains were full of
water or dry ; as also where elm-pipes lay under ground: w plain proof this,
that those drains intercepted the warmth of the earth from ascending from
greater depths below them; for the snow lay where the drain had more than
four feet depth of earth over it. It continued also to lie on thatch, tiles, ana
‘the tops of walls.”—See Hales’s Hamastatics, p. 360. Quere, Might not
such observations be reduced to domestic use, by promoting the discovery of
old obliterated drains and wells about houses ; and, in Roman stations and
camps, lead to the finding of pavements, baths, and graves, and other hidden
relics of curious antiquity ?

I have now in my possession a snuff-box, formerly the property of Sir
Walter Scott, on which is the following inscription: “Oak found near Gordon
Castle, twenty feet below the surface of the ground.” From the great age
of the wood, it has the appearance of having nearly turned to a substance
resembling agate. In a bog in Staffordshire, with which Iam well acquainted.
huge oak trees, at a considerable depth, might be found, from the snow having
melted away on the surface.—Eb.

BLACK GROUSE.

WOLMER FOREST.—GAME. 27

and, therefore, rather suppose that they were parts of a
willow or alder, or some such aquatic treé.*

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 discovered 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
excursions; and in particular, in the dry summer of 1740
and 1741, and some years after, they swarmed to such a
degree, that parties of unreasonable sportsmen killed
twenty and sometimes thirty brace in a day.t

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 coming 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 gentle-
man present, who had often seen black game in the north
of England, assured me that it was a grey hen.t

* The remains of trees are found in most of the marshes in Great Britain ;
but the mosses in the north of England, and all those of Scotland, contain
trees often of immense size. These are generally oak, birch, different
willows, or alder, and the Scotch fir, pinus sylvestris. Being embedded to
considerable depths, they are sometimes in a perfect state, and completely
saturated with the soil in which they lie. In the Highlands, the Scotch fir
abounds, and retains so much resin as to be used for lights during winter, for
which purpose it is dug out, dried and split into narrow lengths—W.J.

+ Black game may now be found in the forest, and a few grouse——Ep.

+ Black game have increased greatly in the southern counties of Scotland
and north of England within the last few years. It is a pretty general
opinion, though an erroneous one, that they drive away the red grouse; the two
species require very different kinds of cover, and will never interfere. It is to
be regretted that some of our extensive and wealthy northern proprietors do
not attempt the introduction of the wood grouse ; extensive pine or birch forests
with quiet, would be all the requisites; and the birds themselves, or their young,
could be very easily obtained, and at a trifling expense. In Mr. J. Wilson’s
Zoological Illustrations, there is an excellent plate of the tetrao wrophasianus
of North America, 2 very handsome species, which, with some others lately
discovered by Mr. Douglas, might be introduced into this country, and form

28 WOLMER FOREST.—RED DEER.

Nor does the loss of our black game prove the only gap
in the Fuuna Selborniensis, or “ Natural History of Sel-
borne ;”’ for another beautiful link in the chain of beings is
wanting,—I mean the red-deer,* which, toward the begin-
ning 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-grandfather (men-
tioned in a perambulation taken in 1635), grandfather,
father, and self, enjoyed the head keepership of Wolmer
Forest in succession, for more than an 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. For she came out of the great road at Liphock,
which is just by, and reposing herself, on a bank, smoothed
for that purpose, lying about half a mile to the east of
Wolmer 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.t A sight this,
worthy the attention of the greatest sovereion! But he
farther adds, that, by means of the Waltham 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 Cumberland.
It is now more than thirty years ago that his highness sent
down a huntsman, and six yeoman prickers, in scarlet
jackets laced with gold, attended by the stag-hounds, order-

a fine addition to our feathered game. The little American partridge, the
ortyx borealis of naturalists, has been introduced, and is now plentiful, in
some counties in England.— W. J.

* Red deer are still to be found in the New Forest, and Her Majesty's
buck-hounds are sent there every year to hunt them. One stag a few years
ago found near Lyndhurst was taken not far from Salisbury.—Ep.

+ The following curious fact may be mentioned with respect to red deer,
as proving their attachment to favourite localities. The late Duke of Atholl,
wishing to increase the stock of red deer in his park, took the opportunity of
a very severe winter to draw the deer from their hills and mountains. This
was done by scattering food in a line to the park, and a great extent of the
paling of it was removed. When hunger had thus compelled the deer to
enter it, toils were put up, the fencing was replaced and the deer enclosed.

They pined away, however, and in two years not one was left alive-—Ep.

WOLMER FOREST.—RED DEER. 29

img 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 carried off, such fine chases were exhi-
bited as served the country people for matter of talk and
wonder for years afterwards. I saw myself one of the
yeoman prickers single out a stag from the herd, and must
confess that it was the most curious feat of activity I ever
beheld,—superior to anything in Mr. Astley’s riding-school.
The exertions made by the horse and deer much exceeded
all my expectations, though the former greatly excelled the
latter in speed. When 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 THE SAME.

Tuovex large herds of deer do much harm to the neigh-
bourhood, 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 were a hunter, as they
affected to call themselves, no young person was allowed to

* Nothing can be more true than these remarks. The state of demoralisa-
tion of the people in the neighbourhood of the New Forest, for instance, is
beyond what can well be imagined. Deer stealing is a temptation which few
of them can resist, and the consequence is idleness, drunkenness, and immorality.
The Act of Parliament which removes the deer from the New Forest, will
confer a blessing on the whole neighbourhood.—Epb,

30 WOLMER FOREST.—THE BLACK ACT.

be possessed of manhood or gallantry. The Waltham blacks
at length committed such enormities, that Government was
forced to interfere with that severe and sanguinary act
called the Black Act,* which now comprehends more felonies
than any law that ever was framed before; and, therefore,
a late bishop of Winchester, when urged to re-stock
Waltham chase, refused, from a motive worthy of a pre-
late, 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, over their ale, they used to
recount 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 manner :—
Some fellows, suspecting that a calf new-fallen was depo-
sited 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 num-
ber 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 country people to destroy them all.

Such forests and wastes, when their allurements to irre-
gularities are removed, are of considerable service to neigh-
bourhoods that verge upon them, by furnishing them with
peat and turf for their firing; with fuel for the burning
their lime ; and with ashes for their grasses ; and by main-
taining their geese and their stock of young cattle at little
or no expense.{

* Statute 9 Geo. I. c. 22.

+ This chase remains unstocked to this day; the bishop was Dr. Hoadley.

t This was the case when Mr. White wrote this passage; but alas, since
then Parliamentary enactments have deprived the labourers of much of their
rights of common, by enclosing them, and thus much of their means of sub-
sistence, and consequently of their prosperity, have disappeared. Whenever
labour was slack, the common was always a reserve on which the labourer
could employ himself, by cutting fuel, making brooms, &c.—Ep.

WOLMER FOREST.—BURNING HEATH. 31

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, bidentibus exceptis, “ sheep excepted.” *
The reason, I presume, why sheep are excluded is, because,
being such close grazers, they would pick out all the finest
grasses, and hinder the deer from thriving.

Though (by statute 4 and 5 William 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 confinement in the house of correction;”
yet, in this forest, 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, catching the
hedges, have sometimes been communicated to the under-
woods, woods, and coppices, where great damage has ensued.
The plea for these burnings is, that, when the old coat of
heath, &c., is consumed, 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 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 vegetation are to be found for years.
These conflagrations, 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 twenty-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 village,
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 annually on the feast of St. Barnabas,

* For this privilege the owner of that estate used to pay tp the king annually
seven bushels of oats.

32 WOLMER FOREST.

taking the old materials for a perquisite. The farm
called Blackmoor, in this parish, is obliged to find the posts
and brushwood for the former ; while the farms at Greatham,
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 THE SAME.

On the verge of the forest, as it is now circumscribed, are
three considerable lakes ; two in Oakhanger, 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
sportsman; for, being crowded at the upper end with
willows, and with the carex cespitosa, “clumpy sedge,’’* it
affords such a safe and pleasant shelter to wild ducks, teals,
snipes, &c. 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.t

y perambulation of Wolmer Forest and the Holt,
made in 1635, and the eleventh year of Charles the First,
(which now lies before me,) it appears that the limits of the
former are much circumscribed. 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 Ward-le-ham Park, in which stands
the curious mount, called King John’s Hill, and Lodge Hill,
and to the verge of Hartley Mauduit, called Manduit-hatch ;
comprehending also Shortheath, Oakhanger, and Oak-woods ;
a large district, now private property, though once belonging
to the royal domain.

* I mean that sort which, rising into tall hassocks, is called by the foresters
torrets ; a corruption I suppose of turrets.

Wild ducks and teal also breed in the thick heather in the neighbour-
hood.—Eb. x
+ For which consult Letter txxxrv. to Mr, Barrington.

WOLMER POND. 33

It is remarkable, that the term purliew is never once men-
tioned in this long roll of parchment. It contains, besides
the perambulation, a rough estimate of the value of the
timbers, which were considerable, 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 Wolmer Forest.

Within the present limits of the forest are three con-
siderable lakes, Hogmer, Cranmer, and Wolmer; 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 by no
means peculiar to them, I cannot pass over in silence: and
that is, that instinct by which in summer 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 feeding.
‘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 subsisted, but for this contingency.*
Thus Nature, who is a great economist, converts the recre-
ation of one animal to the support of another! Thomson, who
was a nice observer of natural occurrences, did not let this
pleasing circumstance escapehim. He says in his Swmmer,—

“ A various group the herds and flocks compose :
—_—————— on the grassy bank,

Sore ruminating lie; while others stand

Half in the flood, and, often bending, sip

The circling surface.”

Wolmer Pond, so called, I suppose, for eminence sake, 1s

* This passage proves what an accurate observer Mr. White was of appa-
rently trifling facts and circumstances in natural history. He might have
added to the above that so economical is Nature, that when cattle are standing
in the water, they whisk off vast quantities of flies, which are greedily devoured
by the fish which assemble about them, and these, more than the dung, supply

them with food.—Ep. .

84 AYLES IOLT.

a vast lake for this part of the world, containing in its whole
circumference, 2649 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 reckoning.

On the face of this expanse of waters, and perfectly secure
from fowlers, lie all day long, in the winter season, vast
flocks of ducks, teals, and widgeons, 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 morming! Had this lake an arm or two more, and
were it planted round with thick covert (for now it is per-
fectly naked), it might make a valuable 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 mere so remarkable, as the
great quantity of coins that were found in its bed about

forty years ago.*

LETTER IX.
TO THE SAME.

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

* Some of these coins came afterwards into the possession of the author.
They were all copper, part were of Marcus Aurelius, and the Empress
Faustina, his wife, the father and mother of Comniodus.—W. J.

+ “In, Rot, Inquisit. de statu forest. in Scaccar. 36 Ed. TII.,” it is called
Aisholt. In the same, “ Tit. Woolmer and Aisholt Hantisc. Dominus Rex
habet unam capellam in hata sud de Kingesle.” “ Haia, sepes, sepimentum,
parcus : a Gall. hate and haye.”—Spetman’s Glossary. /

Tur FALLow Drer. (Cervus dama.

AYLES HOLT. 35

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 construct-
ing, who was a distinguished mechanic and artist,t as well
as warrior: and, among the rest, a very complicated clock,
lately in possession 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 enclosures, 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 Wolmer 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 near 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
Bentley, all of which have right of common.

One thing is remarkable, that, though the Holt has been of
old well stocked with fullow-deer, unrestrained 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 Wolmer
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,

* At Lord Stawel’s death, the property reverted to Heneage Legge, Esq.
afterwards to the Hon. Henry Legge and the Hon. and Rev. Augustus Legge,
at whose death it was inherited by his eldest son—Ep.

+ Prince Rupert has long been the reputed inventor of mezzotinto, but it 18
proved on sufficient authority that he was merely the introducer of the artinto
this country. The invention was made in 1642, by 2 Dutchman named Lud-
wig von Siegen, who communicated it to Prince Rupert about the year 1654.
See full particulars in Bohn’s edition of Walpole’s Anecdotes of Painters
and Engravers, vol. iii. p. $23.—Eb. p2

36 SWALLOWS.

in spite of the efforts of numerous keepers, and the severe
penalties that have been put in force against them, as often
as they have been detected, 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 neighbourhood ;
and, at one time, a wild bull, or buffalo: but the country
rose upon them, and destroyed them.

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 estimated 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 Wey is made navigable up to the town of
Godalming, in the county of Surrey.

LETTER X.

TO THE SAME.

August 4, 1767.

In has been my misfortune never to have had any neighbours

whose studies have led them towards the pursuit of natural

knowledge ; so that, for want of a companion to quicken my

industry and sharpen my attention, I have made but slender

rogress in a kind of information to which I have been
attached from my childhood.

* There are now no deer in either Holt or Woolmer Forcst.—Ev.

SWALLOWS. 37

As to swallows (hirundines rustic) being found in a torpid
state during the winter, in the Isle of Wight, or any part
of this country, I never heard any such account worth
attending to. But a clergyman, 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 (hirundines apodes)
among the rubbish, which were at first appearance dead ;
but, on being carried toward the 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 frag-
ment of the chalk cliff fell down, one stormy winter, on the
beach, and that many people 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 11th, and young martins (hirundines urbice) 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 18th.* Are not these

* It will be seen in perusing this work that Mr. White constantly enter-
tained the idea that swallows occasionally hybernated in this country, although
he has failed in bringing forward any conclusive proof of the fact. We cannot
but regret that that he was not acquainted with the following very interesting
one, communicated to the editor by a lady of the highest respectability, who
not only witnessed it herself, but it was also seen by several members of her
own family. I will relate itin her own words:

“ A pair of swallows built their nest early in the summer, close to the iron-
stay of a water-spout, running in the direction from my bed-room window.
I could observe their proceedings as I lay in bed, and also from various parts
of my room. After the first hatch had taken flight, the parent birds repaired
the nest and sat again. The young ones were brought to life in September,
and were able, early in October, to leave the nest for the spout or the roof
of the house. They took a short flight across the court, but were too weak to
depart when the rest of these birds are supposed to quit our Island. Having
taken great interest in watching these little birds, I was led to wonder how
the young ones would manage, or whether they would be left to starve. To
my great surprise I found the old birds carrying mud one morning, and most
carefully closing the aperture of the nest upon the young ones who were then

38 THE FLY-CATCHER.

late hatchings more in favour of hiding than migration ?
Nay, some young martins remained in their nests last year
so late as September the 29th; and yet they totally disap-
peared with us by the 5th 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; and
once I saw numbers of house-martins on the 7th of Novem-
ber.* The martins and red-wing fieldfares were flying in
sight together; an uncommon assemblage of summer and
winter birds!

A little yellow bird+ (it is either a species of the alauda
trivialis, or rather, perhaps, of the motacilla trochilus) still
continues to make a sibilous shivering noise in the tops of
tall woods. The stoparola of Ray (for which we have as yet
no name in these parts) is called, in your Zoology, the fly-
catcher. There is one circumstance 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 motacilla

in it. It was most effectually stopped. As the spring approached I diligently
watched the little prisoners or rather their prison. Early in April I heard a
slight twittering. This continued for some days, and I then inspected the
nest and found a small hole about the size of a pea. This day by day increased,
and at length three swallows emerged from their winter habitation. At first
they appeared weak, but in a few days they gained strength, and after a flight
always returned to the same place, and rested there during the night. The
nest is still preserved. A brood has been hatched again this year, and another
nest built on the next stay of the spout, nearer to my window.”

It is curious that Mr. White and Mr. Daines Barrington, who were so
strongly inclined in favour of the torpidity of swallows, should not have been
able to bring forward one decided fact to prove their favourite idea.—Ep.

* This may be accounted for by the swifts having only one brood and when
they can fly, both old and young migrate. The purpose for which they came
to this country has been fulfilled. Ep.

: T It is the grasshopper-lark.— Ep.

+ Nothing can be more graceful or pretty than the action of this bird in
taking flies. I have seen the young seated in a row on arail, and fed by their
parents in succession, darting at flies as mentioned by Mr. White.—Ep.

(Arvicola amphibia.

Ta Water Rat.

WATER RATS, 39

trochilus: Mr. Derham supposes, in Ray’s Philosophical
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. Stillingfleet makes a question whether the black-cap
(motacilla atracapilla) 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 once in these parts, but are never
seen in the winter. They are delicate songsters.

Numbers of snipes* breed every summer in some moory
ground on the verge of this parish. It is very amusing to
see the cock bird on wing at that time, and to hear his
piping and humming notes.

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 plenty in harvest, at
which time I will take care to get more; and will endeavour
to put the matter out of doubt, whether it be a nondescript
species or not.

I suspect much there may be two species of water-rats.f
Ray says, and Linnzeus after him, that the water-rat is web-
footed behind. Now, I have discovered a rat on the banks of
our little stream that is not web-footed, and yet is an excel-
lent swimmer and diver: it answers exactly to the mus am-
phabius of Linnzus (see Syst. Nat.), which, he says, “ natat in
fossis et urinatur,” “ swims and dives in the water.” I should
be glad to procure one “plantis palmatis,” “with webbed feet.”
Linneus seems to be in a puzzle about his mus amphibius,
“amphibious mouse,” and to doubt whether it differs from his
mus terrestris, “land mouse,” which, if it be, as he allows,
the “mus agrestis capite grandi brachyuros,” “ short-tailed,
large-headed field-mouse,’”’ of Ray, is widely different from
the water-rat, both in size, make, and manner of life.

* Both snipes and woodcocks breed freely in the neighbourhood of Woolmer
Forest. The latter have always four eggs, which are generally deposited on a
dry bank. As soon as the eggs are hatched, the young are conveyed to wet
swampy grounds. Sir Charles Taylor of Hollycombe, for many years past,
has had a couple of young woodcocks on his table on the 25th of June.—Eb.

++ Many persons in the neighbourhood of the river Thames have supposed
that there were two varieties of water-rats, This has arisen from the circum-
stance of the common Norway rat having been seen swimming to the aits on
the nver, and attacking and destroving the water-rats—Ep.

40 HOOPOES.

As to the falco, which I mentioned in town, I 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,
“qualem dices... antehac fuisse, tales cum sint reliquie !”
“what would you say it was before, when such are the
remains ?”’

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. IJ cannot make
it answer to any of our English hawks ; neither could I find
any like it at the curious exhibition of stuffed birds in Spring
Gardens. 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 country, full
of hills and woods, and therefore full of birds.

LETTER XT.

TO THE SAME.
Serzorne, September 9, 1767.

In 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 remembrance, 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 zrides.

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 ornamental piece of

* A pair of hoopoes have bred for many years in an old ash tree, on the
grounds of a lady in Sussex near Chichester. Numbers of them are sold in
the markets in Paris—Eb.

Tue Hooror. (Upupa enops.
pupa enor

GROSSBEAKS. 41

ground, which joms to my garden, 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 frightened and persecuted by idle
boys, who would never let them be at rest.*

Three grossbeaks (loxia coccothraustes) appeared some
years ago in my fields, in the winter; one of which I shot.
Since that, now and then, one is occasionally seen in the
same dead season.t

A crossbill (lovia curvirostra) was killed last year in this
neighbourhood.

Our streams, which are small, and rise only at the end of

* Specimens have been killed at different times in this country, and
instances are even recorded of their having even bred; the species, however,
can only be placed among our occasional visitants. The specimen from which
the figure in Mr. Selby’s elegant Illustrations of British Ornithology was
drawn, was taken on the coast, near Bamborough Castle, Northumberland.
Colonel Montague mentions a pair that began a nest in Hampshire, and Dr.
Latham records a2 young hoopoe shot in the month of June. The species is
abundantly met with in the south of Europe; it also occurs in Holland,
Germany, Denmark and Sweden. In the winter it retires to Asia or Africa,
where it is also a permanent resident.—W. J. ‘

One specimen was shot in the county of Dublin, and another in the
county of Tipperary, in 1828. Loudon's Magazine.—W. J.

+ This also can only be placed as an occasional visitant, appearing most
frequently in the southern counties of England, during hard and stormy
winters. Mr. White (as we learn from the Naturalist’s Calendar and
Miscellaneous Observations, published in a separate volume, since the
author’s decease, by Dr. Aikin, and to which we shall occasionally refer)
met with this species at different times, and found it feeding on the stones
of damson plums, that still remained on and about the trees in his garden.
This species forms the type of the genus coccothraustes.—“ On the 14th
May, 1828, the nest of a hawfinch was taken in an orchard belonging to Mr.
Waring, at Chelsfield, Kent. The old female was'shot on the nest, which
was of a slovenly loose form, and shallow, not being so deep as those of the
greenfinch or linnet, and was placed against the large bough of an apple-
tree, about ten feet from the ground. It was composed externally of dead
twigs and a few roots, mixed with coarse white moss, or lichen, and lined
with horse-hair and a little fine dried grass. The eggs were five in number,
about the size of a skylark’s, but shorter and rounder, and spotted with bluish
ash and olive brown, some of the spots inclining to dusky or brackish
brown. The markings were variously distributed on the different eggs.”
J.C. Loudon, Jour. of Nat. Hist—wW. J.

They are by no means uncommon birds in this country. Many
of them breed among the Horn-beam pollards in Epping and Waltham
Fores‘s.— Eb.

42 FISH.—OWLS.

the village, yield nothing but the bull’s head, or miller’s
thumb (gobius fluviatilis capitatus),* the trout (trutta fluvia-
tilis), the eel (angwilla),t the lampern (lampetra parva et
fluviatilis), and the stickle-back (pisciculus aculeatus).t

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, in hard weather, frequent our lakes in the forest.

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 manuer of hawks: when full, like a dog, it
hides what it cannot eat.

The young of the barn-owl are not easily raised, as they
want a constant supply of fresh mice; whereas the young of
the brown owl will eat indiscriminately all that is brought;
snails, rats, kittens, puppies, 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 21st of August: it was
a strageler.

Redstarts, fly-catchers, white-throats, and reguli non
cristati, still appear; but I have seen no black-caps lately.

I forgot to mention, that I once saw in Christ Church
College quadrangle, in Oxford, on a very sunny warm morn-
ing, a house-martin flying about and settling on the parapet,
so late as the 20th of November. ‘

* The miller’s thumb is found in nearly every river and brook in England.
It harbours under stones, which the flatness of its head enables it to do.— Ep.

+ Mr. Yarrel, a most accurate aud observant naturalist, in a number
of the Zoological Journal, hints at the possibility of two species of eels
being natives of this country. In this I certainly think Mr. Yarrel correct,
their similarity rendering them easily confused. The species with which the
London markets are supplied from Holland, may also be discovered, as our
researches in the ichthyology of Great Britain, so long comparatively neglected,
become more frequent. The grig of Pennant, which seems to be Mr. Yarrel’s
second species, appears in the Thames, at Oxford, at a different season from
the common eel.—W. J.

There are three species of Eels in our fresh waters—the sharp and the
broad-nosed eels and the Snig, which the editor had the pleasure of introducing
to the notice of his friend, Mr. Yarrell.—Eb. i

+ There are six distinct kinds of sticklebacks.—Ep.

BATS. 43

At present, I know only two species of bats, the common
vespertilio murinus, and the vespertilio auribus.*

I was much entertained last summer with a tame bat,t
which would take flies out of a person’s hand. If you gave

* Dr. Fleming, in his Description of British Animals, 1828, enumerates
seven species included in the genera rhinolophus, or those having membranes
upon the nose; vespertilio, including our common bat; and plecotus, those
with large ears—W. J.

There are from twenty to twenty-three varieties of bats found in this
country. It is curious that so observant a naturalist as Mr. White should
only know of two.—En.

+ We are indebted to Mr. George Daniell for the following particulars of the
habits of two species of British bats, which were kept by him in confinement.
They were originally given to me as a commentary on the statement in the
text; but were subsequently communicated, at my request, to the Zoological
Society at its meeting on November 11, 1834.

“In July, 1833,” Mr. Daniell says, “TI received five specimens of the
pipistrelle bat from Elvetham, Hants; all of which were pregnant females.
There were many more congregated with them in the ruins of the barn in
which they were taken; but the rest escaped. They were brought to me in
a tin powder canister, in which they had been kept for several days ; and on
turning them loose into a common packing-case, with a few strips of deal
nailed over its front to forma cage, they pleased me much by the great
activity which they displayed in the larger space into which they had been
introduced ; progressing rapidly along the bottom of the box, ascending by the
bars to the top, and then throwing themselves off as if endeavouring to fly.
I caught some flies and offered one of them to one of the bats, which scized
it with the greatest eagerness, and devoured it greedily, and then thrust its
nose repeatedly through the bars, with its jaws extended, closing them from
time to time, with a snap, and evincing the utmost anxiety to obtain an
additional supply of this agreeable food. The flies were then offered to the
whole of them, and the same ravenous disposition was displayed ; all the
bats crowding together at the end of the box at which they were fed, and
crawling over, snapping at, and biting each other like so many curs, uttering
at the same time a disagreeable grating squeak. I soon found that my
pets were so hungry as to require more time to be expended in fly-catching
than I was disposed to devote to them; and I then tried to feed them with
cooked meat: but this they rejected. Raw beef was, however, eaten with
avidity ; and an evident preference was given to those pieces which had been
moistened with water. The feeding with beef answered exceedingly well, two
objects being gained by it: the bats were enabled to feed without assistance ;
and my curiosity was gratified by observing them catching flies for themselves.

“ A slice of beef attached to the side of the box in which they were kept
not only spared me the trouble of feeding them, but also, by attracting the
flies, afforded good sport in observing the animals obtain their own food by
this new kind of bat-fowling. The weather being warm, many blue-bottle
flics were attracted by the meat; and on one of these approaching within
range of the bats’ wings, it was sure to, be struck down by their action, the

44: BATS.

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 shear-
ing off the wings of the flies, which were always rejected,

animal itself falling at the same instant with all its membranes expanded,
cowering over the devoted fly, with its head thrust under them in order to
secure its prey. When the head was again drawn forth, the membranes
were immediately closed and the fly was almost invariably taken by the head.
The act of deglutition was a laboured operation: the mastication consisting of
a succession of eager bites or snaps; and the sucking process, if I may so
term it, by which the insect is drawn into the mouth, being greatly assisted
by the loose lip of the animal. Several minutes were usually occupied in
swallowing a large fly. Those which I offered in the first instance were
eaten entire ; but I subsequently observed detached wings in the bottom of
the box in which the bats were kept; I never, however, observed the rejection
of the wings by the bats, and am inclined to think that they are generally
swallowed. The olfactory nerves of the pipistrelle are acutely sensible,
readily distinguishing between an insect and a bit of beef; for when one of
them has been hanging at rest, attached by its hinder extremities to one of the
bars in front of its cage, I have frequently placed a small piece of beef within
a short distance of its nose, but the beef has always been disregarded; when,
on the other hand, I have put a fly in the same situation, the bat instantly
commenced snapping after it. They would eat the beef when they were
hungry, but they never refused a fly.

“Inthe day-time they sometimes clustered together in a corner of the
cage. Towards evening they became very lively and gave rapid utterance to
their harsh, creaking notes. The longest survivor of them died after a cap-
tivity of nineteen days.

“My intimate acquaintance with the noctule bat, the species of which
Gilbert White appears to have been the first English observer, and for which
he indicated the specific name altivolans, commenced on the 16th of May,
1834, I obtained on that day from Hertfordshire five specimens, four of
which were pregnant females. The fifth individual, a male, was exccedingly
restless and savage from the first ; biting the females, and breaking his teeth
against the wires of the cage in his attempts to escape from his place of con-
finement. He rejected all food, and died on the 18th. Up to this time the
remaining four had continued sulky; but towards the evening they ate a few
small pieces of raw beef, in preference to flies, beetles, or gentles, all of which
were offered to them: only one, however, fed kindly. On the 20th, one
died ; and on the 22nd, two others. The survivor was tried with a variety of
food, for I was anxious to preserve her as long as possible ; and as she evinced
a decided preference for the hearts, livers, &c. of fowls, she was fed constantly
upon them. Occasionally I offered to her large flies, but they were always
rejected ; although one or two May chafers placed within her reach were
partially eaten. In taking the food the wings are not thrown forward in the
manner of the pipistrelle, as if to surround a victim and prevent its escape ;
the action of the noctule in seizing the meat was similar to that of a dog.
The appetite was sometimes voracious ; the quantity eaten exceeding half au

(Vespertilio noctuta.)

Bat.

THE

BATS. . 45

was worthy of observation 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 improbable story.
While I amused myself with this wonderful quadruped, I
saw it several times confute the vulgar opinion, that bats,
when down ona flat surface, cannot get on the wing again, by
rising with great ease from the floor. It ran, I observed,
with more dispatch than I was aware of; but in a most ridi-
culous and grotesque manner.*

Bats drink on the wing, like swallows, by sipping the

ounce, although the weight of the animal was no more than ten drachms.
It was in the evening that it came down to its food: throughout the day it
remained suspended by its hinder extremies at the top of the cage. It lapped
the water that drained from its food, and in this, no less than in its manner
of feeding, there was a marked distinction between the noctule and the
pipistrelle: the latter in drinking raises its head. The animal evidently
became quite reconciled to her new position. She took considerable pains in
cleaning herself, using the claws of the posterior extremities as a comb,
parting with them ‘the hair on either side from the head to the tail, and
forming « straight line down the middle of the back: the membrane of
the wings was cleaned by forcing the nose through the folds, and thcreby
expanding them.

“On the 23rd of June, a young one was born, exceeding in size a newly
born mouse ; and having, from its birth, considerable power in its hind legs
and claws, by the aid of which it clung strongly to its dam or to the deal
sides of the cage. It was nestled so closely within the folds of the membranes
as to prevent any observation of the process of suckling. The dam was
exceedingly careful of it the next day also, and was observed to shift it from
side to side to suckle it, keeping it still folded in'the membranes of the wings:
on these occasions her usual position was reversed. In the evening she was
found to be dead; but the young one was still alive. It took milk from a sponge,
and was kept carefully wrapped up in flannel ; and by these attentions was
preserved for eight days, at the end of which period it died. Its eyes were
not then opened, and it had acquired very little hair.”

With the preceding notes, Mr. Bennett states that Mr. Daniell commu-
nicated to the Zoological Society some other particulars respecting the female
noctule, which were published in the Proceedings of that body for 1834.
These are less adapted to the-general, than to the scientific, reader.

It would seem probable, from the account given in the text of its manner
of feeding, that the tame bat observed by our author was the pipistrelle: a
bat which he and British zoologists generally, until very recently, confounded
with Vespertilio murinus ; one of the most common, with one of the rarest
of the English species.—E. T. B.

* In the West Indies, bats do great mischief in gardens, where they
eat the green peas, opening the pod over each pea, and removing it very
dexterously.—Ep.

46 MICE.

surface, as they play over pools and streams. They love to
frequent waters, not only for the sake of drinking, bnt on
account of 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 places; the air swarmed with them all along the
Thames, so that hundreds were in sight at a time.

LETTER XII.

TO THE SAME.
November 4, 1767.

Srr,—It gave me no small satisfaction to hear that the
falco* turned out an uncommon one. I must confess I
should have been better pleased to have heard that I sent
you a bird you had never seen before; 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 mus domesticus medius 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 in a litter, in a little round nest composed
of the blades of grass or wheat.t

One of these nests I procured this autumn, most artifi-

* This hawk proved to be the falco peregrinus—a variety.
tT We are indebted to Pallas for much information respecting these curious
little animals, which he calls the mus minutus. He found them in the woods
in many parts of Russia, and they have since been discovered in Germany.
The nest is most elaborately constructed of the common reed, formed into a

HAWKS. 47

cially platted, and composed of 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 belonged. 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 increasing
in bulk. This wonderful procreant cradle, an elegant
instance of the efforts of instinct, was found in a wheat-field
suspended in the head of a thistle.

ball about the size of a cricket-ball, and suspended on a plant about five
inches from the ground: nine young mice have been found in one nest.

The Rev. W. Bingley also devoted much time and attention to them; he
kept one in a cage for some time, and saw it lap water freely ; it preferred
insects to every other kind of food: it was very fond of bread; its appear-
ance and movements were very elegant ; its tail was prehensile, and generally
coiled round a wire of the cage ; its toes were very long and flexible, and it
could grasp the wires with any one of them.

Mr, Bell, in his pleasing and instructive history of British Quadrupeds, says
that the Harvest Mouse is not only one of the prettiest, but, without exception,
the smallest of all the British mammalia; and that its habits are at least as
interesting as those of many more conspicuous and important species. Although
not easily rendered familiar, it may be kept in confinement for a long time in
good health, by allowing it the optional use of a sort of little tread-wheel, in
which it will often exercise itself, apparently to its amusement and satisfaction,
and it was probably from the absence of this healthful exercise that persons
have failed to keep it in confinement. This mouse, Mr. Bell adds, is found in
various parts of England ; in Hampshire, Wiltshire, Gloucestershire, Devon-
‘shire, and Cambridgeshire. It has also been found in Germany, and in Russia
and Siberia.—Beiv’s Quadrupeds.

See also the seventh volume of the Linnzan Transactions, in which Colonel
Montagu records his having seen this mouse in Wiltshire, before the discovery
of it in Hampshire, by Mr. White.

Ina review of Gilbert White’s Selborne, in the Gentleman's Magazine for
1789, is the following paragraph with reference to his discovery of the Harvest
Monse :—

“ Many would be surprised if they were told that a new quadruped had,
within these few years, been found in this Island, yet Mr. White’s researches
have been rewarded with such a discovery. It is indeed the smallest four-
footed animal we have, but its manner of life shows it to be endowed with
equal sagacity with the larger kinds.” The author's description of this mouse
Ys there given in his own words.—Ep.

48 CANARY BIRDS.

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 expect: but the moment I
took it in hand, I pronounced it the male garrulus bohemicus,
or German silk-tail, from the five peculiar crimson tags, or
points which it carries at the ends of five of the short
remiges. It cannot, I suppose, with any propriety, be
called an English bird; and yet I see by Ray’s Philosophical
Letters that great flocks of them, feeding on haws, appeared
in this kingdom in the winter of 1685.*

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 mssel-thrushes, and feed-
ing on the berries of the yew-tree, which answered to the
description of the merula torguata, or ring-ousel, were lately
seen in this neighbourhood. I employed some people to
procure me a specimen, butwithout success. (See Letter vu11.)

Query—Might not Canary birds be naturalised to this
climate, provided their eggs were put in the spring into the
nests of their congeners, as goldfinches, greenfinches, &c. ?
Before winter, perhaps, 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 assemble in those parts. But what
struck me most was, that from the time they began to con-
gregate, forsaking the chimneys and houses, they roosted
every night in the osier beds of the aits of that river.t

* The Bohemian Chatterer. In 1810, large flocks of this species wete
dispersed through various parts of the kingdom ; and from that period, few
appear to have visited the island, until February, 1822, when several occurred,
and one was killed on the Calton Hill, Edinburgh. They appeared also during
the severe storm of 1823, and several were killed in East Lothian last winter,
(1828.)—W. J.

‘+ Swallows, in countless numbers still assemble every auturan on the

MIGRATION. 49

Now, .this resorting towards that element, at that season 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 persuaded 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 28rd of last October, flying in
and out of its nest in the Borough ; and I myself, on the
29th of last October, as I was travelling through Oxford,
saw four or five swallows hovering round and settling on the
roof of the County Hospital.t

willows growing on the aits of the river Thames. JI have not only witnessed
their departure, but also their arrival in this country. On the latter occasion
they alighted on the ground and appeared much exhausted.—Eb.

* Ina mild winter I have seen solitary swallows as late as the beginning
of December.—Eb.

+ In Mr. Bennett’s edition of White’s Selborne, there is a very interesting
note of the late Dean of Manchester’s (Mr. Herbert) on the instinct of birds.
He says that young swifts, the moment they leave the nest, have often
occasion to make the great migration, and that the various species of
hirundines.remain in their nests till they are more completely feathered
than other birds. Thus when they come forth, they are matured for flight.
He thinks that the troublesome insects which infest their nests (hippobosca
hirundinis), ave a resource in the scheme of Providence to force the young
birds to venture upon the wing from the perilous height at which their nest
is placed, by making the abode insupportuble.

Each bird, Mr. Herbert says, builds its nest in the same form and of the
same materials as its parent, and for the most part in a similar situation;
but he thinks that, if the eggs were transposed into the nest of some nearly
related species, and the produce kept separate from all others of their own
kind, they would doubtless make their nests like those of the birds which had
reared them, and would also adopt their notes. I have observed, he adds,
young blackcaps raised from the nest ina large cage in which the perches
were very low, as soon as they fed themselves show a sudden anxiety at
roosting-time to find a higher perch, and flutter about so intent upon this as
to notice nothing else, and at last settle to roost clinging to the wires near
the top of the cage. This appears like a marvellous instinctive impulse; but
I apprehend that, while in their native bush, they had noticed the parents
every evening, at roosting-time, fly upwards to a loftier situation in which to
pass the night. I therefore refer this to observation.

Amongst other notices of peculiar instincts, Mr. Herbert refers to that of
young birds brought up in cages, selecting their proper food from amongst a
variety placed before them, and also that of migratory birds washing, and

E

50 OHAFFINCHES,

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 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 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 suspect 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
torpid state in the 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.t

LETTER XIII.

TO THE SAME.
SELBORNE, Jan. 22, 1768.
Srz,—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

those which remain with us, dusting themselves. He thinks that this is a
wise dispensation of the Great Creator; for if the little wren in winter
were to wash in cold water instead of dusting, it would perish from the chill.

The result of these observations is that there are certain impulses given to
birds, independent of their early imitative propensities, which seem to pro-
cced directly from the Almighty Power that governs the universe. The
more this subject is investigated, the more clearly will the direct agency of
God be discovered.

* See Adanson’s Voyage to Senegal.

+ They not only traverse vast seas and continents, but they take their
departure at night ; for they have been found dead in lighthouses, having
flown against the strong light—Ep.

LINNETS. 51.

the compliment, and expect to 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 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 Linnzus, 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 common linnets,
more, I think, than can be bred in any one district. These,
I observe, when the spring advances, 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 well
known, at least, that the swallows and the fieldfares do con-
gregate with a gentle twittering before they make their.
respective departures. :

You may depend on it that the bunting, emberiza miliaria,
does not leave this country in the winter. In January,
1767, I saw several dozens of them, in the midst of a severe
frost, among the bushes on the downs near Andover : in our
woodland enclosed districts it is a rare bird.t

* Cock chaffinches are found all the year through, although they probably
make partial migrations. One is now feeding (January 5th) before my window,
and as a boy J have constantly taken them when out batfowling.— Eb.

+ Sir W. Jardine says, that, u proportion of the common buntings do
not migrate; but we certainly receive a considerable number at the great:
general migration, at the commencement of winter, most probably from
Sweden and Norway. They generally breed and-frequent unenclosed countries,’
and assemble in flocks during winter.—Ep, ,

£2

52 WILEATEAR.

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

Mr. Stillingfleet, in his Zracts, says, that “ if the wheatear
(enanthe) 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 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, desirmg him to look into his
minutes, with respect to birds that settled on their rigging
during their voyage up or down the Channel.t What
Hasselquist says on that subject is remarkable; there were
little short-winged birds frequently coming on board the
ship all the way from our Channel quite up to the Levant,
especially before squally weather.

What you suggest with regard to Spain is highly

* Wagtails certainly perform partial migrations. I lose sight of them in
“my neighbourhood for weeks together. A curious fact may here be related
of them. A pair of pied wagtails built their nest last summer in a vacuum
under a sleeper of the Brighton railway, near the terminus at that place.
Trains at all times of the day were passing close to the nest, but in this
situation the young were hatched and reared. A gentleman in the neigh-
bourhood who watched the progress of the birds in their nidification, can
vouch for the truth of this anecdote.—Eb.

+ The Lewes shepherds here informed me that the wheatear has nearly
forsaken their downs, I find it in Bushy-park all the, year round, where
they breed in the rabbit-burrows.—Eb.

=~ Many naval men have assured me of the fact of migratory birds settling
on the rigging of their ships. Indeed the circumstance may now be considered
as indisputable.—Eb.

Wuear-Ear anv Wuiy-CHar,

HARVEST-MOUSE. 53

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 man, possessed of fortune, health, and lei-
sure, should make an autumnal voyage into that kingdom,
and should spend a year there, investigating 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.

T have no friend left now at Sunbury to apply to about
the swallows roosting on the aits of the Thames; nor can I
hear any more about those birds which I suspected were
merule torquate.

As to the small mice,t I have farther to remark, that

* See Ray's Travels, p. 466.

+ The mus messorius of Shaw is the least of British quadrupeds. Mr.
White has the merit of discovering it, and has added some interesting informa-
tion regarding it in his different letters. The Rev. W. Bingley, in his
Memoirs of British Quadrupeds, has the following very interesting remarks,
illustrating the habits of an individual for some time kept alive in his posses-
sion :— About the middle of September, 1804, I had a female harvest-mouse.
given to me. It was put into a dormouse cage immediately when caught, and
a few days afterwards produced eight young ones. I entertained some hope
that the little animal would have nursed these and brought them up; but,
having been disturbed in her removal about four miles from the country, she
began to destroy them, and I took them from her. The young ones, at the
time I received them (not more than two or three days old), must have been
at least equal in weight to the mother. After they were removed, she became
reconciled to her situation ; and when there was no noise, would venture to
come out of her hiding-place at the extremity of the cage, and climb about
among the wires of the open part, before me. In doing this, I remarked that
her tail was*prehensile, and that, to render her hold the more secure, she
generally coiled the extremity of it round one of the wires. The toes of all
the feet were particularly long and flexile, and she could grasp the wires very
firmly with any of them. She frequently rested on her hind feet, some-
what in the manner of the jerboa, for the purpose of looking about her; and,
in this attitude, could extend her body at such an angle as at first greatly sur-
prised me. She was a beautiful little animal, and her various attitudes in
cleaning her face, head, and body, with her paws, were particularly graceful
and elegant. For a few days after I received this mouse, I neglected to give
it any water; but when I afterwards put some into the cage, she lapped it with:
great eagerness. After lapping, she always raised herself on her hind feet, andy
cleaned her head with her paws. She continued, even till the time of her
death, exceedingly shy and timid; but whenever I put into the cage any

54: HARVEST-MOUSE.

though they hang their nests for breeding up amidst the
straws of the standing corn, above the 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 oat-rick lately, under the thatch of
which were assembled near a hundred, most of which were
‘taken; and some I saw. I measured them, and found that,
from nose to tail, they were just two inches and a quarter,

favourite food, such as grains of wheat or maize, she would cat them before
me. On the least noise or motion, however, sbe immediately rau off, with
the grains in her mouth, to ber hiding-place. One evening, as I was sitting at
my writing-desk, and the animal was playing about in the open part of its cage,
a large blue fly happened to buzz against the wires ; the little creature,
although at twice or thrice the distance of her own length from it, sprang
along the wires with the greatest agility, and would certainly have seized it,
had the space betwixt the wires been sufficiently wide to have admitted her
teeth or paws to reach it. I was surprised at this occurrence, as I had been led
to believe that the harvest mouse was mercly a granivorous animal. I caught
‘the fly, and made it buzz in my fingers against the wires. The mouse, though
usually shy and timid, immediately came out of her hiding-place, and running
to the spot, seized and devoured it. From this time I fed her with insects
whenever I could get them; and she always preferred them to every other kind
of food that I offered her. When this mouse was first put into her cage, a piece
of fine flannel was fulded up into the dark part of it as a bed, and I put some
grass and bran into the large open part. In the course of a few days, all the
grass was removed; and, on examining the cage, I found it very neatly
arranged between the folds of the Nannel, and rendered more soft by being
mixed with the nap of the flannel, which the animal had torn off in consider-
able quantity for the purpose. The chief part of this operation must have
taken place in the night ; for although the mouse was gencrally awake ana
active during the daytime, yet I never once observed it employed in removing
the grass. On opening its nest about the latter end of October, 1804, I
remarked that there were, among the grass and wool at the bottom, about forty
grains of maize. These appeared to have been arranged with some care and
regularity, and every grain had the corcule, or growing part, caten out, the
lobes only being left. This seemed so much like an operation induced by the
instinctive propensity that some quadrupeds are endowed with, for storing up
food for support during the winter months, that I soon afterwards put into the
cage about a hundred additional grains of maize. These were all in a short
time carried away, and, on a second examination, I found them stored up in
the manner of the former. But though the animal was well supplied with
other food, and particularly with bread, which it seemed very foud of; and
-although it continued perfectly active through the whole winter, on examining

‘, its nest a third time, about the end of November, I observed that the food in
its repository was all consumed, except about half-a-dozen grains.”—W, J.

Tur Mousé.

DEER. 55

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 avoirdupois; so that I sup-
Hay they are the smallest quadrupeds in this island. A

-grown mus medius domesticus 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
in general must have suffered prodigiously. There is reason
to believe that some days were more severe than any since
the year 1739-40.*

LETTER XIV.

TO THE SAME.

SELBORNE, March 12, 1768.
Dear Sir,—lIf some curious gentleman would procure the
head of a fallow deer and have it dissected, he would
find it furnished with two spiracula, or breathing-places,*
besides the nostrils; probably analogous to the puncta
lachrymalia, “ lachrymal ducts,” + 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 imner corner of each eye, having a communication
with the nose. Here seems to be an extraordinary provi-
sion of nature worthy our attention, and which has not,

* See Letter LXI.

+ The slits beneath the eyes of deer are certainly to facilitate breathing, as
all keepers know. The separation of the nerves and ‘blood vessels on the
‘cheeks of deer does not affect the horns in any great degree, or even the
cutting of the spermatic cord. Any injury, however, to the testicles in all
cases either retards or alters the growth of the horns.— Ep.

56 SPIRACULA OF ANIMALS.

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 forma-
tion of the head may be of singular 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

* In answer to this account, Mr. Pennant sent me the following curious
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 much use of those orifices as
of his nostrils, applying them to the fruit, and seeming to smell it through them.”

[The structure of the glandular cavities, of which the orifices are here alluded
to, precludes the possibility of their.ever being used as accessory respiratory
passages, or organs of scent.

The common integument is continued over the margins of the orifice, and
is reflected over the whole of the interior of the cavity, which is altogether
imperforate, except by the ducts of a large flattened mucous gland, which
occupies its base ; a few short hairs spring up in the interspaces of the terminal
orifices of the ducts. Mr. Hunter, whose attention was probably called by his
friend Pennant to this peculiarity of the decr and antelopes, has left several
preparations of the glands and sinus, taken from the Indian and another species
of antelope, and also from the deer; in which their condition as tegumentary
sacs, having no communication with the nose, is clearly shown.

Conceiving that the secretion of these glands, when rubbed upon projecting
bodies, might serve to direct individuals of the same species to each other, I
prepared a tabular view of the relations between the habits and habitats of the
several species of antelopes, and their suborbital, maxillary, post-auditory, and
‘inguinal glands, in order to be able to compare the presence and degrees of develop-
ment of the glands, with the gregarious and other habits of the antelope tribe.

From this table it was, however, evident, that there is no relation between
the gregarious habits of the antelopes which frequent the plains and the presence
of the suborbital and maxillary sinuses; since these, besides being altogether
wanting in some of the gregarious species, are present in many of the solitary
frequenters of rocky mountainous districts. The supposition, therefore, that
the secretion might serve, when left on shrubs or stones, to guide a straggler to
the general herd, falls to the ground.

The secretion of those cutaneous glands which are designed to attract the
‘sexes, is generally observed to acquire towards the reproductive period a strong
musky odour, as in the elephant and alligator; but the secretion of the subor-
bital sinuses, even when these are most fully developed, is devoid of any
approach to a musky, or any other well defined odour.

Nevertheless, the subjoined observations of Mr. Bennett tend to give some
probability to the theory which ascribes to the suborbital sinuses a sexual
relation.—R. O.]

[It scems probable that these organs, on the use of which it is by no means

SPIRACULA OF ANIMALS. 57

slit up the nostrils of such asses as were hard worked ; for
they, being naturally strait or small, did not admit air suffi-
cient to serve them when they travelled or laboured in that
hot climate. And we know that grooms and gentlemen of

creditable to naturalists to have now to speculate, may be designed for the
promotion of that intimate acquaintance between animals of the same species
which a primary law of nhture requires; but it would be difficult to explain
in what manner they may avail to such an end. That they have some con-
nection with the full development of the animal powers will appear, I think,
from the consideration of a series of individuals now living at the Zoological
Society’s Gardens.

Among the whole of the deer and antelopes that are provided with suborbital
sinuses, none have them more strongly marked than the Indian antelope; and
in none of those animals are they more frequently brought into use, A fully
grown male, the moment you approach him, throws back his “head, and thrusts
himself rapidly forwards, as though about to make an attack; but the back-
ward direction of his long spirally twisted horns, and the freedom with which
he offers to you his exposed neck and chest, are scarcely indicative of a hostile
movement, THe has at this time fully expanded the large bag beneath his eye ;
its thick lips, which pout considerably in the quiet state of ‘the animal, are
widely separated and thrown back; and the intervening space is actually
everted, the base of the sac forming a projection instead of a hollow. We
see the bare skin, covered only by a coating of a dark ceruminous secre-
tion. This, if the hand be within his reach, the animal attempts to rub against
the knuckles; and we then feel that, though the lining skin of the sac has no
general covering of hair, it is not destitute of a few bristles, which grate
against the finger subjected to the friction. The friction is evidently agreeable
to the animal, for it is often repeated; at times, it is even continued for a
minute or two, After the finger has been subjected for some time to this
rubbing, it will_be found to have acquired a heavy odour of a sait and peculiar
character.

The Zoological Society has at present, in its gardens in the Regent’s Park,
four individuals of the Indian antelope: an adult and aged male, brought by
Col. Sykes from Bombay, and presented to the Society nearly five years ago; a
younger, yet adult, male that was presented in an immature condition, about two
years since; an immature male lately arrived, and in about the same state of
development as that in which the last-mentioned individual was when he was
originally presented; and an emasculated specimen of full growth. The series
is singularly complete as regards one sex; the other sex has not yet been
possessed by the society, and is, indeed, rarely seen in Europe. Destitute of
horns, and never acquiring the rich deep colour of the males, the female is
probably considered as less worthy of exportation from the native country of
the species.

During the time that the old male has remained in the Gardens, he has
constantly behaved in the manner described above; the conduct of his several
predecessors has been precisely similar. He widely expands the suborbital
sinus, and brings it near to any substance offered to him; he might even be
suspected of a disposition to test, by some special sense lodged in it, the nature
of the substance offered: but he usually drives the naked and everted skin

58 SPIRACULA OF ANIMALS.

the turf, think large nostrils necessary, and a perfection, in
hunters and running horses.

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

Terpdduuor pies, micupes mvolnot Stavdot
“ Quadupartite nostrils, four respiratory passages.”
Opp. Cyn. Lib. ii. 1. 181.

Writers, copying from one another, make Aristotle say,

against the hand, either thrusting it repeatedly, or rubbing it. The peculiar
odour is freely imparted to the substance rubbed, but seems to offer no special
attraction to his senses: he neither smells to it remarkably, nor licks it. The
second male, whose horns have about three-fourths of their full growth, and
whose rich colours are only less deep than those of his more aged neighbour,
acts in a similar manner. His suborbital sinus, though strongly developed, is
not so extensive as that of the older animal: in its quiet state it is scarcely
completely closed, so thick are its lips; in its condition of excitement it is
widely expanded. The animal then thrusts it at the offered hand; but does
not exhibit an equal readiness to rub it. The youngest male is evidently
immature ; its horns have only commenced making their first spiral turn, and
its colour is the fawn of the female, with her pale stripe along the side: for in
the Indian antelope, as in most animals in which the adult: males differ in
colour from the females, the young of both sexes are similarly coloured and
resemble the dam, In this individual the suborbital sinus is small; its lips
are closely applied to each other; and they are but slightly moved when the
‘animal is interested; if he uses his nose, the sac is called into moderate action.
He cares little for the odour of his older relatives. The remaining specimen
was probably of nearly the same age with this younger male when that occurred
which, while it allowed of the animal's increasing in bulk, checked the deve-
lopment of the external characters that belong to the mature male. Its advance
‘towards perfection was arrested while the female livery of the young animal
was yet retained, and its colour is the fawn of the female with the side marked
‘lengthways by her paler line. Its horn too, normal in its character, as far as a
-point corresponding with the early part of the first spiral turn, and about this
point regularly ringed, afterwards loses the form characteristic of the species,
and instead of being completed by a continuous series of spiral turns, surrounded
by strongly marked rings, becomes smooth, continues slender, and is directed
backwards in one single large sweep, forming a horn altogether monstrous, and
one which is sheep-like, though infinitely weak, rather than antelopine: only
one such horn remains. In this animal the suborbital sinus is not more
‘developed than in the youngest and immature male, and it is quite unused :
the sinus is little more than a mark existing in the ordinary situation, and no
‘motion whatever is observed in its lips; it is not applied to any substance
brought near to it, the nose being usually employed. A finger loaded with
‘the secretion from the sac of the mature male is smelt to by this individual,
and is then freely licked ; perhaps on account of its saltness alone, but probably:

oe. free

: Vin ERS

' Typ WEASEL. (Mustela vulgaris.)

THE CANE. 59

that goats breathe at their ears, whereas he asserts just the
contrary :—'Adkpaioy yap otk ddnOy déyet, pdpevos dvamveiy tas
aiyas Kata ta ord. “ Alemeon does not advance what is true,
when he avers that goats breathe through their ears.”—
History of Animals, Book i. chap. xi.

LETTER XV.

TO THE SAME. .
. SELBoRNE, March 30, 1768,
Dear Stz,—Some intelligent country people have a no-
tion that we have, in these parts, a species of the genus
mustelinwm, besides the weasel, stoat, ferret, and polecat; a
little reddish beast, not much bigger than a field mouse, but
much longer, which they call a cane. This piece of intel-
ligence can be little depended on; but farther inquiry may
be made.* 5 F
also on account of some other and peculiar attraction. The same cause which
induced the retention by this individual of the immature colours, and which
arrested the perfect growth of the horns, has also, I do not hesitate in believ-
ing, checked the development of the suborbital sinuses and rendered them
useless.

I am not disposed, on this ion, to enter farther into the speculations
which might be founded on the facts just recorded with respect to the subor-
bital sinus in the Indian antelope ; and I quit the subject, for the present, with
the remark that they seem to me to justify the observation with which I
‘commenced. More numerous facts, and more full consideration.of them, will
determine before long the degree of value that should be attached to this view
of the subject.

By a letter which I have just received from Mr. Hodgson, I find that he has
-has had his attention excited by the observation of the antelopes which he has
kept alive in Nepaul; and that he also has been led to the conclusion that
there exists a relation between these sinuses and their secretions and the other
functions referred to. His continued observation, favourably as he is circum-
stanced for the acquisition of information on all subjects of Nepaulese zoology,
will doubtless tend to elucidate this yet unsettled point, on which Dr. Jacob,
at the meeting of the British Association in Dublin, in 1835, laid before the
members assembled some valuable observations.—E. T. B.]

* The cane is the common weasel. It is the provincial name for it— Ep,

60 WHITE ROOKS.—BULLFINCH.

A gentleman in this neighbourhood had two milk-white
rooks in one nest. A booby of a carter, finding them
before they were able 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.*

A shepherd saw, as he thought, some white larks on a
down above my house this winter: were not these the
emberiza nivalis, the snow-flake of the Brit. Zool.? 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 black-
ening every succeeding year, it became coal-black at the end
of four. Its chief food was hempseed. Such influence has
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.t

I had remarked for years, that the root of the cuckoo-pint
(avum) was frequently scratched out of the dry banks of
hedges, and in severe snowy weather. After observing,
with some exactness, myself, and getting others to do the
same, we found it was the thrush kind that scratched it out.
The root of the arwm 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 January.

* Mr, Yarrell informs us that white, pied, and cream-coloured varieties of
the rook occasionally occur. Ihave seen three white blackbirds from one nest,
at Blackheath. Also, 2 white sparrow and a cream-coloured woodcock killed
in Sussex.—Ep.

++ Mr. White has justly remarked, that food has great influence on the
colour of animals. The dark colour in wild birds is a great safeguard to them
against their enemies; and this is the reason that, among birds of bright
plumage, the young do not assume their gay colours till the second or third
‘year, as the cygnet, the gold and silver pheasants, &c. The remarkable change
-of plumage among the gull tribe, is 2 curious and intricate subject. Is the
circumstance mentioned by Mr. Pegge true, “ that butterflies partake of the
colour of the flowers they feed on?” I think not. See Anonymiana,
p. 469.—Mitrorp.

STONE CURLEW. 61

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 salicaria kind, and, | think,
was soft-billed. It was no parus, and was too long and too
big for the golden-crowned wren, appearing most like the
largest willow-wren. It hung sometimes with its back
downwards, but never continuig 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, charadrius oedicnemus,
should be mentioned by the writers as a rare bird; it
abounds in all the champaign parts of Hampshire and
Sussex, and breeds, I think, all the summer, having young
ones, I know, very late in the antumn. Already they begin
clamouring in the evening. They cannot, I think, with any
propriety be called, as they are by Mr. Ray, “circa aquas
versantes ;”? for with us (by day at least) they haunt only
the most dry, open, upland fields and sheepwalks, far re-
moved 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.
Linneus, perhaps, would call the species mus minimus.

LETTER XVI.

TO THE SAME.
SetBorng, April 18, 1768.
Draz Siz,—The history of the stone curlew, charadrius
oedicnemus, is as follows: It lays its eggs, usually two, never
* more than three, on the bare ground, without any nest, in
the field, so the countryman in stiring 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 ob-

62 WILLOW-WREN.

server, 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 almost any day; and any evening you may
hear them round the village; for they make a clamour which
may be heard a mile. Cidicnemus is a most apt and ex-
pressive name for them, since their legs seem swollen like
those of a gouty man. After harvest, 1 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.* Notwo birds can differ more in their
notes, and that constantly, 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 drachms and a half, while the latter weighs but two;
so that the songster is one-fifth heavier than the chirper.
The chirper (beimg the first summer bird of passage that- is
heard, the wryneck sometimes excepted) begins his notes
in the middle of March, and continues them through the
spring and summer, till the end of August, as appears by

* Mr. White clearly distinguishes three species of these little birds; and
he seems to have had some idea of a fourth: but on this point there is a con-
fusion in the entries in the Naturalist’s Calendar, which has perhaps arisen
from his having used different names for the same bird in noting down
his observations in different years. The small uncrested wren of the
calendar, appearing on the 9th of March, is called in the Natural History,
p- 84, the chirper, and is said to have black legs: it must be cither sylvia
rufa or sylv. loquax ; I believe the former, for I doubt the fact of sylv.
loquax, the chiffchaff, which seems not to reach the north of England,
arriving so early. The third entry in the Calendar, second willow or laughing
wren, is certainly sylv. trochilus ; because he says in the Natural History,
p- 82, that the songster has a laughing note. The fourth entry, large shivering
wren, is unquestionably sylv. sylvicola. It appears to me that the second
and fifth entries, middle yellow wren, and middle willow wren, mean the same
thing as second willow wren, and refer alike to sylv. trochilus; but
it is possible that at a later period than the date of Letter xix. written in
1768, he may have suspected the existence of a fourth species. —W. H.

There has hitherto existed very great confusion in the works of British and
foreign naturalists concerning the four nearly allied species of wrens, which
Mr. W. Herbert has satisfactorily cleared up in his very elaborate note on the
subject, printed in Bennett’s edition En,

GRASSHOPPER LARK.—FLY-CATCHER. 63

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
rast Saturday.* Nothing can be more amusing than the
whisper of this little bird, which seems:to be close by, though
at an hundred yards’ distance ; 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 hardly
believed but that it had been a locusta whispering in the
bushes. The country people laugh when you tell them that
it is the note of a bird. It is a most artful creature,
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 the hedge where it
haunted; and then it would run, creeping like a mouse
before us for an 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, gapimg and shivering with its wings. Mr. Ray
himself had no knowledge of this bird, but received his
account from Mr. Johnson, who apparently confounds it
with the reguli non cristati, from which it is very distinct.
See Ray’s Philos. Letters, p. 108.

The fly-catcher (stoparola) has not yet appeared: it
usually breeds in my vine. The redstart begins to sing:
its note is short and imperfect, but is continued till about
the middle of June. The willow-wrens (the smaller sort)
are horrid pests in a garden, destroying the pease, cherries,
currants, &c., and are so tame that a gun will not scare
them.t

* Sylvia locustella. Lath. Grasshopper-warbler.—Selby’s Ornith—W. J.

+ This sentence has probably been the cause of the murder of numbers of
these most innocent little birds, which are in truth peculiarly the gardener’s
friends. My garden men were in the habit of catching the hens on their nests
in the strawberry beds, and killing them, under the impression that they made
great ravage among the cherries ; yet I can assert that they never taste the
fruit, nor can those which are reared from the nest in confinement be induced
to touch it, They peck the aphides which are injurious to the fruit trees ;
and being very pugnacious little birds, 1 have sometimes seen them take post
in a cherry-tree, and drive away every bird that attempted to enter it, though
of greater size and strength.

The birds which are mistaken for them are the young of the garden-warbler,

64 THE NUTHATCH.

A List of the Summer Birds of Passage di ed in this neighbourhood,
ranged somewhat in the order in which they appear.
LINNEL NOMINAs

Smallest willow-wren, Motacilla trochilus.
Wryneck, Jynz torquilla.
House-swallow, Hirundo rustica.
Martin, Hirundo urbica.
Sand-martin, Hirundo riparia.
Cuckoo, Cuculus canorus.
Nightingale, Motacilla luscinia.
Blackcap, Motacilla atricapilla.
White-throat, Motacilla sylvia.
Middle willow-wren, Motacilla trochilus.
Swift, Airundo apus.

Stone curlew ? Charadrius edicnemus ?
Turtle-dove ? Turtur aldrovandi ?
Grasshopper lark, Alauda trivialis,
Landrail, Rallus crex.

Largest willow-wren, Motacilla trochilus.
Redstart, Motacilla phenicurus.
Goatsucker, or fern-owl, Caprimulgus ewropeus.
Fly-catcher, Muscicapa grisola.

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 sitta europea (the nuthatch). Mr. Ray

curruca hortensts, Becust., with which Mr. White was not acquainted, as it is
not mentioned by him, and does not appear in his list of summer birds; yet I
am confident that they will be found plentifully at Selborne, when the Kentish
cherries are ripe. They attacked my cherries in great numbers when I lived
in the south of Berkshire, not much more than twenty miles from Selborne.
These young birds have a strong tinge of yellow on the sides, which disappears
after they moult, and gives them very much the appearance of the yellow wren
when seen upon the tree, though they are larger and stouter, and in habits very
much resemble the blackcaps, with whom they are associated in the plunder of
cherry-trees. I have never seen the pettychaps in Yorkshire until the cherries
are ripe, when they immediately make their appearance and attack the Kentish
cherry particularly, being so greedy that I have often taken them with a
fishing-rod tipped with birdlime, while they were pulling at the fruit. The
moment they have finished the last Kentish cherry, they disappear for the
season. If they finish the cherries in the morning, they are gone before noon.
I am persuaded that they appear and disappear in the same manner at Selborne,
and are probably to be found there only while the cherries are ripe, which
accounts for Mr. White’s having mistaken them for yellow wrens when he
saw them in the fruit trees. They brecd in the market gardens about London,

THE NUTUATCH, 65

says, that the less spotted woodpecker does the same. This
noise may be heard a furlong or more.*

Now is the only time to ascertain the short-winged
summer birds: for, when the leaf is out, there is no making

and J imagine that as the cherries ripen they migrate from garden to garden in
pursuit of them. I am told that near London they remain late enough to
attack the elder-berries, of which the fruit-eating warblers are very fond, but
in Yorkshire they do not even wait for the later cherries. The number of
these visitants depends upon the crop of early cherries. This year the crop
having nearly failed, I saw but two of them, which appeared on the 15th of
July, and were not seen after the 17th. The blackcap remains eating the
currants and honeysuckle berries; they are both very fond in confinement of
ripe pears, and I believe, in the south of England, they peck some of them
before their departure—W. H.

* The nuthatch, sitta europea, Linn. is the only species of the genus
inhabiting Europe; in this country it appears confined to England, never
having been traced further north than Northumberland. : The following
animated sketch, a good deal in the style of our author, I have extracted
from Loudon’s Journal of Natural History, as giving.a correct idea of the
manners of this curious species :—“I had never seen the little bird called
the nuthatch, when one day, whilst I was expecting the transit of some
wood-pigeons under a birch-tree, with my gun in my hand, I observed a little
ash-coloured bird squat himself on one of the large lateral trunks over my
head, and after some observation, begin to tap loudly, or rather solidly, upon
the wood, and then proceed round and round the branch, it being clearly the
same thing to him whcther his nadir or zenith were uppermost. I shot, and
the bird fell ; there was a lofty hedge between us, and when I got over, he had
removed himself. It was some time before 1 secured him; and I mention
this, because the manner in which he eluded me was characteristic of his
cunning. He concealed himself in holes at the bottom of a ditch, so long as
he heard the noise of motion; and when all was still, he would scud out and
attempt to escape. A wing was broken, and I at length got hold of him. He
proved small, but very fierce, and his bite would have made a child cry out.
The elbow joint of his wing being thoroughly shattered, and finding that .he
‘had no other wound, I cut off the dangling limb, and put him into a large cage
with a common lark. The wound did not in the least diminish his activity,
nor yet his pugnacity, for he instantly began to investigate all means of escape;
he tried the bores, then tapped the woodwork of the cage, and produced a
knocking sound which made the room re-echo; but after finding his efforts
vain, he then turned upon the lark, ran under him with his gaping beak to
bite, and effectually alarmed his far more gentle and clegant. antagonist.
Compelled to separate them, the nuthatch—for this bird I discovered him to
be, by turning over the leaves of an Ornithologia—was put into a smaller cage
of plain oak wood and wire. Here he remained all night, and the next morn-
ing his knocking, or tapping with his beak, was the first sound I heard, though
sleeping in an apartment divided from the other by a landing-place. He had
food given to him, minced chicken and bread crumbs, and water. He ate and
drank with a most perfect impudence, and the t he had satisfied himself,

,y

66 SNIPES.

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. 2

In breeding time, 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 that it is made by their wings.

turned again to his work of battering the frame of his cage, the sound from
which, both in loudness and prolongation of noise, is only to be compared to
the efforts of a fashionable footman, upon a fashionable door, in a fashionable
square. He had a particular fancy for the extremities of the corner pillars of
the cage; on these he spent his most elaborate taps, and, at this moment,
though he onlv occupied the cage a day, the wood is pierced and worn like a
piece of old worm-caten timber. He probably had an idea, that if those main-
beams could once be penetrated, the rest of the superstructure would fall, and
free him, Against the doorway he had also a particular spite, and once suc-
ceeded in opening it; and when, to interpose a further obstacle, it was tied in
a double knot with a string, the perpetual application of his beak quickly
unloosed it. In ordinary cages, a circular hole is left in the wire for the bird
to insert his head to drink from a glass; to this hole the nuthatch constantly
repaired, not for the purpose of drinking, but to try to push out more than his
head ; but in vain, for he is a thick bird and rather heavily built; but the
instant he found the hole too small, he would withdraw his head, and begin to
dig and hammer at the circle, where it is rooted in the wood, with his pick-axe
of a beak, evidently with a design to enlarge the orifice. His labour was
incessant, and he ate as largely as he worked; and, I fear, it was the united
efforts of both that killed him, His hammering was peculiarly laborious ; for
he did not peck as other birds do, but, grasping his hold with his immense feet,
he turned upon them as upon a pivot, and struck with the whole weight of his
body ; thus assuming the appearance, with his entire form, of the head of a
hammer; or, as I have sometimes seen birds in mechanical clocks, made to
strike the hour by swinging on a wheel. We were in hopes that when the sun
went down, he would cease from his labours and rest; but no. At the interval
of every ten minutes, up to nine or ten in the night, he resumed his knocking,
and strongly reminded us of the coffin-maker’s nightly and dreary occupation.
It was said by one of us, ‘he is nailing his own coffin ;’ and so it proved. An
awful fluttering in the cage, now covered with a handkerchief, announced that
something was wrong: and we found him at the bottom of his prison, with his
feathers ruffled and nearly all turned back. He was taken out, and for some
time he lingered away in convulsions, and occasional brightenings up. At
length he drew his last gasp: and will it be believed, that tears were shed on
lis demise ? The fact is, that the apparent intelligence of his character, the
speculation in his eye, the assiduity of his labour, and his most extraordinary
fearlessness and familiarity, though coupled with fierceness, gave us a considera-
tion for him that may appear ridiculous to those whe have never so nearly
observed the ways of an animal as to feel interested in its fate. With us it
was diffcrent.”"—W. J.

REPTILES.—TOADS. 67

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

%

LETTER XVII.

TO THE SAME.
SELBORNE, Jume 18, 1768.
Daz Srr,—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 acquainted with
so well as I could wish, with regard to their natural history.
There is a degree of dubiousness and obscurity attending
the propagation of this class of animals something analagous
to that of the eryptogamia 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 gow pév dord-
kot, EEw dé Cwordkot, a8 is known to be the case with the viper.t

The copulation of frogs (or at least the appearance of it—
for Swammerdam proves that the male has no penis intrans)

* Jt is surprising that this feeble diminutive bird should brave our severest
winters.— Ep.

+ Toads are oviparous. Mr. Bell of London, a zealous ophiologist, has
lately confirmed the fact recorded by Schneider, that toads devour the skin
which they shed. In one instance, he witnessed the whole process of tho
shedding of the cuticle: it became divided longitudinally along the back and the
abdomen ; by the action of the hinder leg on one side, the skin was detached
as far as the fore-leg; the same operation was next effected on the other side.
The loosened exuvie were then drawn forward, by the combined action of the
mouth and of the anterior legs, and were immediately swallowed.—Zool.
Jour. Mr. Bell adds, that in others of the batrachian reptiles, the rane and
salamandre, no swallowing of the exwyic took place.—W. J.
: r2

68 FROGS.—TOADS,

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 im the
same situation.* It is strange that the matter with regarc
to the venom of toads has not been yet settled.t 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
an 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.t

* The copulation of frogs and toads is performed in the same manner. The
spermatic fluid is passed upon the ova at the time they are expelled from the
female. The ova of the frog are laid in conglutinated masses; those o!
the toad, in long chain-like strings. The ova of the latter are also much
smaller.—W. J.

+ Blumenbach, whose authority may generally be depended on, asserts thal
there is no truth in the supposition that the urine of toads is poisonous.
I recollect, however, the case of a gardener who, while cutting gooseberry
bushes, scratched his hand. Afterwards, in taking up a toad which he found
under the bush, the animal discharged some of its urine on his hand, whicl
became much inflamed and prevented his working for some time after-
wards.—Eb.

+ Ihave had a toad so tame that, when it was held in one hand, it would
take its food from the other held near it. The manner in which this animal
takes its prey is very interesting. The tongue, when at rest, is doubled back
upon itself in the mouth, and the apex, which is broad, is imbued with a most
tenacious mucus. On seeing an insect, the animal fixes its beautiful eyes
upon it, leans or creeps forward, and when within reach, the tongue is projected
upon the insect, and again returned into the mouth with the captive prey, by a
motion so rapid, that without the most careful observation the action cannot be
followed. An insect is never taken unless when in motion; and I have often
seen a toad remain motionless for some minutes, with its eyes fixed upon an
insect, and the instant it moved it disappeared with the quickness of lightning.
The insect is swallowed whole, and alive; and I have often seen the reptile
much incommoded by the struggles of its imprisoned prey, particularly if it
consist of large and hard insects, as full grown cockroaches, for instance, when
the twitching of its sides, from the irritation produced by the movements of the
insects in the stomach, is sufficiently ludicrous.—T. B.

My ingenious friend, the late George Newenham, Esq. of Summer Hill,
Cork, carried a live toad with him from Edinburgh, which he kept at his
country seat of Summer Hill for several years, where it became quite tame, in
the same way as that mentioned by White. The most amusing feat which it
performed was the swallowing of a worm, which it seemed to relish highly, and
was eager to master in proportion to the difficulty presented by the writhings
of the creature. The spring before I was at Summer Hill, this singular pet

FROGS.— TOADS. 69

I have been informed also, from undoubted authority, 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, till he grew to a monstrous size, with the

had not made its appearance from its unknown winter retreat, and consequently
was supposed to have died, as it was not likely to wander from a spot with
which it had become so familiar.

Mr. Husenbeth has given a very interesting account of a tame toad which
he placed “ in a large glass jar, with moss at the bottom, and somctimes water
enough to saturate the moss, but oftener with only a piece of green sod, which
I changed,” he says, “ when the grass began to wither. Sometimes I contrived
to let him have a little well of water in the sod ; but I never saw him go into
water freely ; only when he was frightened, he would plunge in and bury his
head at the bottom uader the sod. Whether he ever knew me I much doubt;
but certainly he was always perfectly tame, and would sit on my hand, let me
stroke him, and walk about my table or carpet with apparent familiarity and
contentment. I usually let him out on the table every day; and he would
jump down upon the carpet, and hop and crawl about, always making for the
skirting board, which he climbed very ludicrously, and seemed fond of sitting
in a corner on the top of it. He ate freely, from the first day I had him; but
would never take any thing unless he saw it move. In the whole time, I gave
him all the following varieties: flies of all kinds; wasps and bees, first remov-
ing their stings; gnats, which he would snap up at the window, while I held
him on my hand up to the pane of gluss, with an eagerness that appeared
insatiable, and was very amusing ; clap-baits, lady-birds, caddices, ants: of
these last I used occasionally to give him a treat, by bringing home part of a
hillock, and putting him down in the midst of it. He would raise himself on
all fours, and with his eyes glistening with something like civic ecstasy, would
dart out his tongue right and left, as rapidly as lightning, and lap up the ants
in quick succession, with the most laudable gulosity. 1 also gave him earwigs,
glow-worms, woodlice, grasshoppers, spiders, dragon-flies, ticks, horse-leeches,
grubs, moths, and any insect I could meet with. All seemed equally welcome,
either by night or by day ; but it was most diverting to see him contend with
a worm. He would dart upon it, secure one end, and swallow with all his
might ; but the worm would annoy him by creeping out of his mouth before
he could swallow it entirely; and I have known him persevere for nearly
half an hour, attempting to secure his prize, while the worm kept constantly
escaping. He would take a snail, when he once saw it extended and in
motion, though he always dashed at the shell, and took all down together in a
moment, but could not manage one of large size. It was to me a great source
of amusement to feed him and watch his singular movements. He was often
frightened, but seldom provoked. I once or twice, however, provoked him, I
think, to as much wrath as his cold nature was susceptible of; but I feel quite
assured that the toad is at all times perfectly harmless and inoffensive : the
idea of its spitting, or otherwise discharging venom is, I am convinced, wholly
unfounded. In the winter months my toad always refused food, though he did
not become torpid, but grew thin and moved much Jess than at other times,

70 FROGS.—TOADS.

maggots, which turn to flesh-flies. The reptile used to come
forth every evening from a hole under the garden-steps ; and
was taken up, after supper, on the table to be fed. 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 accident, the creature languished for some
time and died.

I need not remind a gentieman of your extensive reading,
of the excellent account there is from Mr. Derham, in Ray’s
Wisdom of God in the Creation, p. 365, concerning the migra-
tion of frogs from their breeding-ponds. -In this account he
at once subverts 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 defer 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, 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!

Merret, I trust, is widely mistaken when he advances that
the rana arborea is an Enghish reptile: it abounds in Germany
and Switzerland. 3

It is to be remembered that the salamandra aquatica of

He did not eat from the end of November till March, gradually losing his
appetite and gradually recovering it: he never seemed affected by cold, except
in the way of losing his inclination for food.””— Rennie.

* I was once witness to a swarm of very small frogs, which suddenly made
their appearance, after a very heavy rain, in a gardeg, I occupied at Fulham.
The garden was completely surrounded bya high wall. The entrance to it
was through the house. It was a dry gravel; and there was no moist place
in it in which the spawn of frogs could have been deposited. The garden
also had been well trenched and no frogs found in it, There also were no
drains communicating with it. I merely mention the fact, without pretending
to account tor the circumstance of so many thousands of young frogs, just out
of the tadpole state, being found in the garden. “Mr. Loudon saw the same
occurrence at Rouen.—Ep.

Tne Froe. (Rana temporaria.)

THE WATER-NEWT. 71

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 salamandra aquatica 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 the 5th, 1766, in his account of the mud iguana,
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 to misunderstand his
meaning, I shall give it in his own words. Speaking of the
opercula, or coverings to the gills of the mud iguana, he
proceeds to say, that “The form of these pennated coverings
approaches very near to what I have some time ago observed
in the larva, or aquatic state of our English lacerta, 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.”

Linneus, in his Systema Nature, hints at what Mr. Ellis
advances, more than once.

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.t As to the blind worm (anguis fra-
gilis, so called because it snaps in sunder with a small blow)

* A friend of mine put a newt into a bottle of brandy, and it lived ten
minutes in it. This will prove how capable they are of undergoing the
extremes of heat and cold, as they have been known to recover after having
been frozen perfectly hard. There are also undoubted proofs of newts having
lived in the intestines of human beings. A leech, also, after it has been
frozen and then thawed, will live and suck eagerly. Both newts, lizards,
and some other amphibia, are provided with lungs, and might be supposed
capable of uttering sounds, but they are altogether mute.—Eb.

+ A blind worm, that I kept alive for nine weeks, would, when touched,
turn and bite, although not very sharply: its bite was not sufficient to draw
blood, but it always retained its hold until released. It drank sparingly of
milk, raising the head when drinking. It fed upon the little white slug
(limax agrestis, Linn.) so common in fields and gardens, eating six or seven
of them one after the other; but it did not eat them every day. It invariably
took them in one position. Elevating its head slowly above its victim, it

72 VIPERS,

I have found, on examination, that it 1s 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 maturity as to con-
tain 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 expe-
rienced. 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
ever happens.* The serpent kind eat, I believe, but once in

would suddenly scize the slug by the middle, in the same manner that a
ferret or dog will generally take a rat by the loins; it would then hold it thus
sometimes for more than a minute, when it would pass its prey through its
jaws and swallow the slug head foremost. It refused the larger slugs, and
would not touch either young ‘frogs or mice. Snakes kept in the same cage
took both frogs and mice. The blind worm avoided the water: the snakes,
on the contrary, coiled themselves in the pan containing water, which was put
into the cage, and appeared to delight in it. The blind worm was a remarkably
fine one, measuring fifteen inches in length. It cast its slough while in my
keeping. The skin came off in separate pieces, the largest of which was two
inches in length, splitting first on the belly, and the peeling on the head being
completed the last. After the skin was cast the colour of the reptile was
much lighter than it had before been.

I had for the first time, while this blind worm was in my custody, an oppor-
tunity of witnessing the power which slugs have of suspending themselves by a
thread. They availed themselves of it in escaping from the cage of the reptile.
The cage was on a shelf four feet six inches from the floor, and, with the aid
of the glutinous filament which they exuded, the slugs lowered themselves
from it to the ground.—G. D.

* Having taken much pains to ascertain the fact of young vipers entering
the mouth of the mother, I can now have little doubt but that such is the
case, after the evidence of persons who assured me they had scen it. I also
found young vipers in the stomach of the mother, of a much larger size than
they would be when first ready to be excluded. Amongst others, a viper-
caacher on the Brighton downs told me that he had often witnessed the
fact—Ep.

Tun Virkr, on Apnrr. (Vipera berus.)

FISH. 73

a year; or, rather, but only just at one season of the year.
Country people talk much of a water-snake, but, I am pretty
sure, without any reason; for the common snake (coluber
natriz) delights 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 1t be by the various species, or
rather varieties, of our dacerti, of which Ray enumerates five.
I have not had opportunity of ascertaining these, but
remember well to have seen, formerly, several beautiful
green lacertz on the sunny sand-banks near Farnham, in
Surrey ; and Ray admits there are such in Ireland.

LETTER XVIII.

TO THE SAME.

Seporne, July 27, 1768.
Dear Srr,—lI received your obliging and communicative
letter of June the 28th, while I was on a visit at a gentle-
man’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, but
could find no such fish as the gasterosteus rungitius; he
found gasterosteus aculeatus in plenty. This morning, in a
basket, I packed a little earthern pot full of wet moss, and
in it some sticklebacks, male and female, the females big

* The common snake often takes to the water and swims well and
boldly. Not only do they swim across the wide parts of the river Ouse, but
they have been seen to swim to the Isle of Wight from the Hampshire coast,
and have occasionally been seen swimming in Portsmouth Harbour.

As a proof of the accuracy of Mr. White's observation, that snakes pro-
bably go into the water to procure food, [ may mention, that a gentleman
lately saw one of these reptiles in a stream and under some weeds, conse-
quently under water, watching for prey. Having observed it for some minutes,
he took it out of the water, when it not only emitted a most unpleasant stench,
but struck at him several times like a viper—Ep.

74 LOACHES.

with spawn ; some lamperns; some bull-heads; but I could
procure no minnows. ‘This basket will be in Fleet-street by
eight this evening; so I hope Mazel* will have them fresh
and fair to-morrow morning. I gave some directions in
a letter, to what particulars the engraver should be atten-
tive.f

Finding, while I was on a visit, that I was within a rea-
sonable distance of Ambresbury, I sent a servant 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 gulleys 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 collections of small black
dots, not reaching much below the linea literalis, 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
feelers, 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 characteristic 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, and did
not forget to make some inquiries concerning the wonderful

* Mr. Peter Mazel was the engraver of the plates of the British Zoology.
He also engraved some of the plates for the original edition of this work.— Eb.

++ The manner in which the common lamprey, petromyzon marinus, and
the lesser species, commonly known as lamperns, form their spawning-beds,
is curious. They ascend our rivers to breed, about the end of June, and
remain until the beginning of August. They are not furnished with any
elongation of jaw, afforded to most of our fresh-water fish, to form the receiving
furrows in this important season; but the want is supplied by their sucker-
like mouth, by which they individually remove each stone. Their power is
immense. Stones of a very large-size are transported, and a large furrow-is
soon formed. The p. marinus remain in pairs, two on each spawning-place,
and while there employed, retain themselves affixed by the mouths to a large
stone. The p. fluviatilis, and another small species which I have not deter-
mined, are gregarious, acting in concert, and forming, in the same manner, a
general spawning-bed.— W. J.

TOADS SAID TO BE A CURE FOR CANCER. 75

method of curing cancers by means of toads. Several intel-
ligent persons, both gentry and clergy, do, I find, give a
great deal of credit to what was asserted in the papers; and
1 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 invalidate the woman’s story of the
manner in which 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 clergyman, who, after express-
ing 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 gen-
tleman 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?
In short, this woman (as 1t appears to me) having set up for
a cancer doctress, finds it expedient to amuse the country
with this dark and mysterious relation.

The water-eft has not, that I can discern, the least appear-
ance 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 larve ; for the larve of insects are full of eggs, which they
exclude the instant they enter their last state. The water-
eft is continually climbing over the brims of the vessel,
within which we keep it in water, and wandering away ; and
peuple every summer see numbers crawling out of the pools
where they are hatched, up the dry banks. There are
varieties ot them differing in colour ; and some have fins up
their tail and back, and some have not.*

* The fins, or membrane on the tail and back, increase greatly at the season
of generation ; at other times they are hardly perceptible—W. J.

76 WILLOW-LARK.

LETTER XIX.

TO THE SAME.

SetporneE, Aug. 17, 1768.
Dear Srr,—I have now, past dispute, made out three dis-
tinct species of the willow-wrens (motacillae trochili), 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 April the 18th, I 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 motacilla trochilus ; only that it is a
size larger than the two other, 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 the three sorts now
lying before me; and can discern that there are three grada-
tions of sizes, and that the least has black legs, and the
other two, flesh-coloured ones. The yellowest bird is con-
siderably 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 non cris-
tatus of Ray; which he says, “ cantat voce striduld locustae.” t
Yet this great ornithologist never suspected that there were
three species.

* These birds are accurately described and beautifully figured in Mr.
Selby’s and Mr. Yarrell’s works on British birds, to which the reader is
referred.—Eb.

+ Pennant’s Brit. Zool., edit. 1776, octavo, p. 381.
+ Without doubt, sylvia sibilatrix, or wood-wren.—W. J.

SANDPIPER. 77

LETTER XX.

TO THE SAME.
SELBORNE, Oct. 8, 1768.
Ir 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. Several birds, which are said to
belong to the north only, are, it seems, often in the south.
I have discovered 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 ot
May) was the sandpiper (¢ringa hypoleucus): 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 21st of May) was
a male red-backed butcher-bird (lanius collurio). My neigh-
bour, 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 the legs and
wings of béetles.

* This species, the cot hypol of modern ornithologists, is most
abundant on all the rocky brooks in the north of England and Scotland, arriv-
ing to breed early in spring, and in autumn again retiring to our coasts, in
small flocks, with its young. About October they are again dispersed,
migrating to warmer shores. I have received specimens from Africa, the
Delft Islands, and various parts of India and China.— W. J.

There is nothing very remarkable in the occurrence of these birds in
southern counties. The sandpiper is disposed to breed in any part of England,
where it can be free from disturbance. The red-backed butcher-bird belongs
rather to the south, and is scarcely ever met in the north. The ring-ousel is
in Hampshire a bird of passage, crossing that county in the spring and autumn,
in its way to and from its breeding-places, in the rocky districts of the north
and west.—E. T. B,

78 BUTCHER-BIRD.—RING-OUSELS.

The next rare birds (which were procured for me last
week) were some ring-ousels (turdi torquati).*

This week twelvemonths a gentleman from London being
with us, was amusing himself with a gun, and found, he told
us, on an old yew hedge where 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 letter
of November the 4th, 1767 (you, however, paid but small
regard to what I said, as I had not seen these birds myself) :
but 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 again last spring, about Lady-
day, as it were on their return to the north. Now, perhaps
these ousels are not the ousels of the north of England,
but belong to the more northern parts of Europe; and
may retire before the excessive rigour of the frosts in
those parts; and return to breed in spring when the cold
abates. If this be the case, here is discovered a new
bird of winter passage, concerning whose migrations the
writers are silent; but if these birds should prove the
ousels of the north of England, then here is a migration dis-
closed within our own kingdom, 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
usually 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.

I must not omit to tell you (as you have been so lately on

* Before migrating to their winter quarters, and often ere the duties of
meubation are over, they leave their mountainous haunts, and descend to the
nearest gardens, where they commit severe depredations among the cherries,
gooseberries, &c. They also frequent holly hedges and the mountain ash,
whenever the fruit of these trees is so early as to be of service during their
passage. They are known to the country people under the title of “ Mountain
Blackbirds.”—W. J.

Tue Rinaouse..

STONE CURLEW. 79

the study of reptiles) that my people, every now and then
of late, draw tp, with a bucket of water from my well, which
is sixty-three 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 qut thence with-
out 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 to corroborate my sus-
picions ; and I hope Mr. 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 wdi-
cnemus, or stone curlew; for I shall desire a 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.

LETTER XXT.

TO THE SAME.

Seporne, Nov. 28, 1768.
Dear Srtr,—With regard to the edicnemus, or stone cur-
lew, I intend to write very soon to my friend near Chichester,
in whose neighbourhood these birds seem most to abound ;
and shall urge him to take particular notice when they begin
to congregate, and afterwards 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 my history
of the stone curlew, which, I hope, will prove to your satis-
faction, as it will be, I trust, very near the truth. This
gentleman, as he occupies a large farm of his own, and is
abroad early and late, will be a very proper spy upon the

80 JACK-DAWS.

motions of these birds; and besides, as I have prevailed on
him to buy the Naturalist’s Journal (with which he is much
delighted), I shall expect that he will be very exact in his
dates. It is very extraordinary, as you obseve, that a bird
so common with, us should never straggle to you.*

And here will be the properest place to mention, while
I think of it, an anecdote which the above mentioned gen-
tleman told me when I was last at his house; which was,
that in a warren joining to his outlet, many daws (corvé
monedule) build every year in the rabbit-burrows under
ground.t 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 this manner; but I
should never have suspected 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){

* This species is extremely local, being scarcely found out of Hampshire,
Norfolk, and one or two of the eastern counties of England.—W. J.

Mr. Herbert says that “he has only found it on chalk. It never strayed
on the sand or gravel, and consequently was not on the heaths, but in the
chalky turnip fields.” This species is, no doubt, extremely local and only
finds the food it requires, chiefly small green bectles, on chalk soils.—Ep.

+ Daws build in a great variety of odd places, and use curious materials
for their nests. Clothes-pegs and lucifer match-boxes have been found in
them. They have been known to carry away the wooden labels from a
botanic garden. In one instance, no less than eighteen dozen of these labels
are said to be found in one chimney where the daws built. In my “Scenes
and Tales of Country Life,” I have given an engraving of a daw’s nest built
in the bell tower of Eton chapel, perhaps one of the most curious structures
on record.—Fop.

+ Mr. Yarrell informs me that a series of interesting experiments might be
made with the view to ascertain by artificial means how low a degree of tem-
perature swallows could sustain for a time without destroying life—Eb.

JACKDAW.

Tur

JACK-DAWS. 81

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 mankind towards deceiving and being
deceived, that one cannot safely relate anything from com-
mon report, especially im print, without expressing some
degree of doubt and suspicion.

Your approbation with regard to my new discovery of the
migration of the ring-ousel, gives me satisfaction; and I find
you concur with me in suspecting that they are foreign
birds which visit us. You will be sure, I hope, not to omit
to make inquiry 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

ear.
‘i I want to be better informed with regard to ichthyology.
If fortune had settled me near the sea-side, or near some
great river, my natural propensity 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 farther than
to those common sorts which our brooks and lakes produce.

LETTER XXII.

TO THE SAME.
SELBorne, Jan. 2, 1769.
Deaz Srr,—aAs to the peculiarity of jack-daws building
with us under 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, Nor-
: G

82 TOADS—-GREEN LIZARD.

folk excepted, Hampshire and Sussex are as meanly fur-
nished 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 appear-
ance than dovecots. When I first saw Northamptonshire,
Cambridgeshire, and Huntingdonshire, and the Fens of
Lincolnshire, I was amazed at the number of spires which
presented themselves in 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.” +

It is a satisfaction to me to find that a green lizard has
actually been procured for you in Devonshire, because it
corroborates my discovery, which I made many years ago,
of the same sort, on a sunny sand-bank near Farnham, in
Surrey. JD am well acquainted with the south hams of
Devonshire, and can suppose that district, from its southerly
situation, to be a proper habitation for such animals in their
best colours.

Since the ring-ousels of your vast mountains do certain!
not forsake them against winter, our suspicions that those
which visit this neighbourhood about Michaelmas are not
English birds, but 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 your account of your error with regard to the two

* Necessity often obliges birds to build in odd places. A pair of magpies
in a district where there were no trees, made their nest in a gooseberry-bush
in a cotter’s garden, and surrounded it with brambles, furze, &c. in so ingenious
a manner that no one would get at the eggs without pulling the materials to
pieces. I have seen a colony of rooks build on the top of some young ash
trees growing close to a farmhouse door, the trees being very spindly, and not
mere than teu or twelve feet high. There were no large trees in the neigh-
bourhood. And I may mention that I saw at Pipe Hall, in Warwickshire, a
swallow’s nest built on the knocker of a door.—Eb.

+ St. James, chap, ili. 7.

HERONS—GOAT-SUCKER. 83

species of herons, you incidentally gave me great entertain-
ment in your description of the heronry at Cressy-hall, which
1s 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 have a sight of.* Pray be sure to tell
me in your next whose seat Cressy-hall is, and near what
town it lies.t I have often thought that those vast extents
of fens have never been sufficiently explored. If half-a-
dozen gentlemen, furnished with a good strength of water
spaniels, were to beat them over for a week, they would
certainly find more species.

There is no bird, I believe, whose manners I have studied
more than that of the caprimulgus (the goat-sucker), as 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 organic
impulse, by the powers of the parts of its windpipe formed
for sound, just as cats pur. You will credit me, I hope,
when I assure you, that, as my neighbours were assembled
mm an hermitage on the side of a steep hill where we drink
tea, one of these churn-owls came and settled on the cross
of that little straw edifice, and began to chatter, and con-

* One of the finest heronries we now have is perhaps the one in Windsor
Great Park, taking into account the number of nests, and the noble and great
heighth of the beech-trees on which they are built. I once witnessed an
interesting fight at this heronry between a pair of ravens and some of the
herons. It was early in the spring, and the former birds evidently wanted
to take possession of one of the nests of the latter, who, however, did not
appear to wieh for so dangerous a neighbour. The fight was continued in the
air for a length of time, but in the end the herons had the advantage and
beat off the ravens.—Ep.

++ Cressy-hall is near Spalding, in Lincolnshire.
62

84 THE GOAT-SUCKER.

tinued his note for many minutes; and we were all struck
with wonder to find that the organs of that little animal,
when put in motion, gave 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
manner through the boughs of a tree.*

* Mr. White's excellent description of this curious species, in the present and
subsequent letters, is only equalled by those of a most accurate American
ornithologist, whose delineations of the manners of the different species that
occurred to him, ought to be examined as models by every describing naturalist.
Mr. Wilson thus beautifully describes the calling of the Whip-poor-will of the
Americans :—‘ On or about the 25th of April, if the season be not uncom-
monly cold, the Whip-poor-will is heard in Pennsylvania, in the evening, as
the dusk of twilight commences, or in the morning, as soon as dawn has
broke. The notes of this solitary bird, from the ideas which are naturally
associated with them, seem like the voice of an old friend, and are listened to
by almost all with great interest. At first they issue from some retired part of the
woods, the glen, or mountain; in a few evenings, perhaps, we hear them from
the adjoining coppice, the garden fence, the road before the door, and even the
roof of the dwelling-housc, hours after the family have retired to rest. Some
of the more ignorant and superstitious consider this near approach as foreboding
no good to the family, nothing Icss than the sickness, misfortune, or death of
‘some of its members, Every morning and evening his shrill and rapid repeti-
tions are heard from the adjoining woods ; and when two or more are calling
at the same time, as is often the case in the pairing season, and at no great
distance from each other, the noise, mingling with the echoes from the moun-
tains, is really surprising. Strangers, in parts of the country where these birds
are numerous, find it almost impossible for some time to sleep; while to those
long acquainted with them, the sound often servés as a lullaby, to assist their
repose. The notes sccm pretty plainly to articulate the words which have
been generally applied to them, Whip-poor-will, the first and last syllables
being uttered with great emphasis, and the whole in about a second to each
repetition; but when two or more males meet, their whtp-poor-will. altercations
become much more rapid and incessant, as if each were straining to overpower
or silence the other. When near, you often hear an introductory cluck
between the notes. At these times, as wall as almost at all others, they fly
low, not more than a few feet from the surface, skimming about the house
and before the door, alighting om the wood-pile, or settling on the roof. To-
wards midnight they generally become silent, unless in clear moonlight, when
they are heard, with little’intermission, till morning.”—W. J.

The night-jar appears to have been a very favourite bird with Mr.
White, who has described Its habits with great accuracy. It is by no means
as common a bird as when Mr. White wrote, owing to the numerous enclosures
which have since taken place, of the favourite haunts of this bird, and of the
anxiety of collectors to possess specimens of it. Keepers also, either mis-
taking it fora bird of prey, or from mere wantonness, kill it when they can

Tur Goat-SuckeEr.

BATS—RAIN—DIZARDS. 85

It would not be at all strange if your bat, which you have
Laas should prove a new one, since five species have
een found im a neighbouring kingdom. 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 entertaining. Iam
no angler myself; but inquiring of those 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 entomology,
yet I cannot say that [am ignorant of that kind of know-
ledge: I may now and then perhaps be able to furnish you
with a little information.

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

t

LETTER XXTIT.

TO THE SAME.

SeLpornE, Feb. 28, 1769.
Dear S1r,—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 circumstance will prove anything either way,

I shall not pretend to say.
I return you thanks for your account of Cressy-hall; but

do so. This is much to be regretted ; for it is one of our most interesting
birds of passage, and its arrival is hailed with pleasure by those who watch
jts curious habits and instincts—Ep.

86 MIGRATION.

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 send me
word 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 caprimulgus; all I contended for was to prove that it
often chatters sitting as well as flying, 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

* The subject of migration appears to have been a very favourite one with
our author, occupying the greater part of many of his subsequent letters, and
evidently often the subject of his private thoughts. He sometimes seems
puzzled with regard to the possibility of many of the migrating species being
able to undergo the fatigue of long or continued journeys; and often wishes
almost to believe, though contrary to his better judgment, that some of these
enter into a regular torpidity. We find torpidity occurring among animals,
fishes, the amphibie, and reptiles, and among insects; but we have never
found any authenticated instance of this provision taking place among birds.
Their frames are adapted to w more extensive locomotive power; and the
change to climates more congenial to their constitutions, preventing the
necessity of any actual change in the system, is supplied to those animals
deprived of the power for extensive migration, by a temporary suspension of
the most of the faculties which, in other circumstances, would be entirely
destroyed. Birds, it is true, are occasionally found in holes, particularly our
summer birds of passage, in what has been called a torpid state, and have
revived upon being placed in a warmer temperature ; but this, I consider, has
always been a suspended animation, where all the functions were entirely
bound up as in death, and which, by the continuance of a short period, would
have caused death itself—not torpidity, where various functions and secretions,
capable for a time of sustaining the frame, are still going on.

The possibility of performing long journeys, as we must believe some
species are obliged to do before arriving at their destination, at first appears
nearly incredible; but, when brought to a matter of plain calculation, the
difficulty is much diminished. The flight of birds may be estimated at from
50 to 150 miles an hour; and if we take a medium of this as a rate for the
migrating species, we shall have little difficulty in reconciling the possibility of
their flights. This, however, can only be applied to such species as, in their
migrations, have to cross some vast extent of ocean, without a resting-place.
Many that visit this country, particularly those from Africa, merely skirt the
coast, crossing at the narrowest parts, and again progressively advancing, until

Tur Common SWALLOW.

MIGRATION. 87

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 I could discern, as the
mist began to break away, great numbers of swallows
(hirundines rustice) 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 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 some and some,. gradually, as they
come ; for the bulk of them seem to withdraw at once; only
some stragglers stay behind a long while, and do never,
there is- the greatest reason to believe, leave this island.
Swallows seem to lay themselves up, and to come forth ina
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 it owing to the vast massy build-
ings of that place, to the many waters round it, or to what
else ?

they reach their final quarters; and during this time having their supply of
suitable food daily augmented. :

The causes influencing the migration of birds, appear more difficult to solve
than the possibility of the execution of it. They seem to be influenced by
an innate law, which we do not, and cannot, comprehend, though in some
measure dependent on the want of food or climate congenial to the system of
each, and which acta almost without the will of the individual. Neither this,
however, nor the duties incumbent on incubation, can be the only exciting
causes, as we may judge by, the partial migrations of some to different parts
of the same country, where food and the conveniences for breeding are alike ;
by the partial migration only, of a species from one country to another,
differing decidedly in temperature, and where the visiting species thrives
equally with the resident one; and by the males of some species migrating,
while the females remain.—W. J.

88 RING-OUSELS.

When I 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 delight, to observe with how much
ardour and punctuality those poor little birds obeyed the
strong impulse towards migration, or hiding, imprinted on
their minds by their great Creator; and with some degree
of mortification, when I reflected that, after all our pains
and inquiries, we are not yet quite certain to what regions
they do migrate; and are still farther embarrassed to find
that some actually do not 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.

LETTER XXIV.

TO THE SAME.
SELBorvE, May 29, 1769.
Dear Srr,—The scarabeus 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 18th of April, J went to the sheep-down, where
the ring-ousels have been observed to make their appearance
at spring and fall, in their way, perhaps, 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 condition. The hen had but very small rudi-
ments of eggs within her, which proves they are late
breeders; whereas those species of the thrush kind that

* It is properly the melolontha fullo. Mr. Bennett says that all the
specimens of this noble chafer that have yet been captured in England, have
occurred on the coast of* Kent, Dover appearing the middle point of their
range-—Eb.

THE SALICARIA. 89

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 remark-
able that they make but a few days’ stay in their spring
visit, but rest near a fortnight at Michaelmas. These birds,
from the observations of three springs and two autumns, are
most punctual in their return; and 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 salicaria,
which, at first, I suspected might have proved your willow-
lark ;* but on a nicer examination, it answered much better
to the description of that species which you shot at Revesby,
in Lincolnshire. My bird I describe thus :—“TIt¢ is a size
less than the grasshopper-lark ; the head, back, and coverts
of the wings of a dusky brown, without the dark spots of
the grasshopper-lark: over each eye is a milk-white stroke ;
the chin and throat are white, and the under parts of a yel-
lowish 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 hinder 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

* For this salicaria, see Letter xxvi. p. 98.

+ Sylvia phragmites. Bechst. Sedge warbler.—Selby’s Ornith.—W. J.

t This is an error which runs through most of our books of ornithology.
The reed bunting, commonly called the reed sparrow, has no song. Like its
songeners, in this country, it has only a monotonous cry. The bird above men-
joned, salicaria phragmitis, or sedge-warbler, is perpetually singing by night
f disturbed, as well as by day, and the reed-bunting has often got the credit
of its song. The sedge-warbler is very abundant at Spofforth, but I have
never discovered the reed-warbler, its near congener, here. Bewick has con-~
founded these two species, and has given a plate and description of the sedge-
warbler, under the name of the reed-warbler, which last has not been
observed north of the Trent. The reed-warbler is of a uniform reddish brown
with a little olive cast on the upper parts, and whitish on the belly; the sedge-
warbler has a light stripe over the eye, and the middle of each feather, on the
upper parts, dashed with very dark brown. I have found its nest on the
ground in a tuft of rushes, in long grasses and herbs, being made fast to the
stalks in a dead hedge, but most frequently in thorn fences, and low bushes,

90 THE SALICARIA.

account merits farther inquiry. For my part, I suspect it
isa second sort of locustella, hinted at by Dr. Derham in
Ray’s Letters: see p. 74. He also procured me a grass-
hopper-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 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 plausi-
ble 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 betore, 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 diffi-
culty worthy of the interposition of a god! “ Incredulus
odi,” “ Disbelieving I detest.”

and willows, often in the currant bushes in gardens near a wet ditch or stream.
The reed-wren builds in general higher, sometimes in a poplar tree, often in
the tall lilacs in the Regent’s Park: our books mostly state willows, and that it
builds in the reeds, but it often prefers a tall bush or a small tree if there be
one in the neighbourhood. Its bill is stronger than that of the sedge-
warbler, and it seems to be less patient of cold. Its nest is deeper. The
song of individuals of the two species is very similar, and cannot easily be
distinguished. Mr. White calls the sedge-warbler a delicate polyglott; and
speaks of its song as very superior to that of the whitethroat, in which I can
by no means agree with im. Its notes are very hurried, some parts of its
song are good, but others singularly harsh and disagreeable. They are greedy
birds, and in confinement are apt to die from excessive fat; becoming s0
unwieldy as to hurt and bruise themselves by tumbling down —W. H.

SUMMER EVENING WALK. 91

TO THOMAS PENNANT, ESQUIRE.

THE NATURALIST’S SUMMER EVENING WALK.

— equidem credo, quia sit divinitus illis
Ingenium. Vine. Georg.
The instructive arts that in their labours shine,
I deem inspired by energy divine.
Wuewn day declining sheds a milder gleam,
What time the May-fly* haunts the pool or stream ;
When the still owl skims round the grassy mead,
‘What time the timorous hare limps forth to feed;
Then be the time to steal adown the vale,
And listen to the vagrant cuckoo’sf tale ;
To hear the clamorous curlewf call his mate,
Or the soft quail his tender pain relate ;
To see the swallow sweep the darkening plain,
Belated, to support her infant train ;
To mark the swift, in rapid giddy ring,
Dash round the steeple, unsubdued of wing:
Amusive birds! say where your hid retreat,
When the frost rages and the tempests beat ?P
Whence your return, by such nice instinct led,
When Spring, soft season, lifts her bloomy head ?
Such baffled searches mock man’s prying pride,
The God of Nature is your secret guide!
While deepening shades obscure the face of day,
To yonder bench, leaf shelter’d, let us stray,

* The angler’s May-fly, the ephemera vulgata, Linn., comes forth from its
aurelia state, and emerges out of the water about six in the evening, and dies
about eleven at night, determining the date of its fly state in about five or
six hours. They usually begin to appear about the 4th of June, and con-
tinue in succession for near a fortnight—See Swammerdam, Derham,
Scopoli, &c. :

+ Vagrant cuckoo ; so called, because, being tied down by no incubation
or attendance about the nutrition of its young, it wanders without control.

t Charadrius edicnemus.

Lies
ho

SUMMER BIRDS OF PASSAGE.

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 flcod ;

While o’er the cliff th’ awaken’d churn-owl hung,

Through the still gloom protracts his chattering song ;

While, high in air, and poised upon his wings,

Unseen, the soft enamour’d woodlarkt 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 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 glow-worm 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.§

LETTER XXV.

TO THE HON. DAINES BARRINGTON.
SrLBorne, June 30, 1769.
Dear Srr—When I 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 I am the

* Gryllus campestris.
+ In hot summer nights, woodlarks soar to a prodigious height, and hang
singing in the air.
} The light of the female glow-worm (as she often crawls ‘up the stalk of
a grass to make herself more conspicuous) is a signal to the male, which isa
slender dusky scarabeus.
§ See the story of Hero and Leander.

SUMMER BIRDS OF PASSAGE. 93

more ready to fulfil my promise, because I see you are a
gentleman of great candour, and one that will make allow-
ances, especially where the writer professes to be an out-
door 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 dis-
covered in this neighbourhood, ranged somewhat in the order in which
they appear.*

RAIL NOMINA. USUALLY APPEARS ABOUT
1. Wryneck, Jynx, sive torquilla. Pee of March: harsh
2. Smallest willow- {Regulus non cris- f March 23: chirps till Sep-

wren, tatus. tember.
3. Swallow, Hirwndo domestica. April 13.
4, Martin, Hirundo rustica. Ditto.
5. Sand-martin, Hirundo riparia. Ditto.
6. Blackcap. Atricapilla. Ditto: a sweet wild note.
7. Nightingale, Luscinia. Beginning of April.
8. Cuckoo, Cuculus. Middle of April.
9. Middle —willow- f[ Regulus non crista- [ Ditto: a sweet plaintive
wren, »° tus. note.
‘ 1" . Do. : mean note; sings on

10. White-throat, Ficedule afinis. ill Seprecaber,

11. Redstart, Ruticilla. Ditto: more agreeable song.

12. Stone curlew, Gdicnemus. ee Be Beh: Bone 0

turnal ‘whistle.

13. Turtle-dove, Turtur.

Alauda minima,

14, Grasshopper-lark, daon eden

sibilous note, till the end
of July.
15. Swift. Hirundo apus. About April 27.

\" sweet polyglot, but hur-

yak of April: a small

Passer arwndina-

16. Les d-sparrow :
By Beene 2 ceus minor.

rying: it has the notes
of many birds.
1

* It is very pleasing to see the accuracy of Mr. White’s list of summer
and winter birds of passage as he discovered them in his own neighbourhood.
The following may comprehend all those which have hitherto been discovered

in his county, and in the list are included the permanent residents and
occasional visitors :—

Summer visitors. fi a é » Be
Winter do. ‘ ‘ « » « 30
Permanent residents 3 . . . 63
Occasional do. ‘ - a eo 82

Total . ‘ 208 —Eb.

94 SUMMER BIRDS OF PASSAGE.

RAIL NOMINA. USUALLY APPEARS ABOUT
: A loud harsh note, crex,
17. Landrail, Ortygometra, ? 2
crex.

Cantat voce stridwld (o-
custe ; end of April, on
the tops of high beeches.

{hv of May: chatters

18. Largest willow- [ Regulus non cris-
wren, tatus.

19. Goat-sucker,

PE | caprimutgus. by night with a singular

fern-owl,
nose.
May 12. A very mute bird:
20. Fly-catcher, Stoparola. | this is the latest summer
bird of passage.

x

This assemblage of curious and amusing birds belongs to
ten several genera of the Linnean system; and are all of
the ordo of passeres, save the jyna and cuculus, which are
pice, and the charadrius (adicnemus) and rallus (ortygo-
metra), which are gralle.

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

1, Tynx. 13, Columba.

2, 6, 7,9, 10, 11, 16,18, Motacilla. 17, Rallus.

3, 4, 5, 15, Hirundo. 19, Caprimulgus.
8, Cuculus, 14, Alauda.

12; Charadrius. 20, Muscicapa.

Most soft-billed birds live on insects, and not on gram
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 :—

RAIL NOMINA.

These frequent houses; and
Red-breast, Rubecula, haunt aut buildings deat
Wren, Passer troglodytes. : . :
winter: cat spiders,
Haunt sinks, for crumbs
Hedge-sparrow, Curruca. and other sweepings.
(-Ehese frequent shallow ri-
White-wagtail, Motacilla alba. | ice i oe spring
Yellow-wagtail, Motacilla flava. ; freere* Se abe sae
rey-wagtai ill cinerea. ¥
Grey-wagtail, Motacilla cinerea. | of Phryganea Thesmall-
L est birds that walk.
Some of these are to be
Wheatear, Gnanthe. seen with us the winter
through.

WINTER BIRDS OF PASSAGE. 95

RAIL NOMINA,

Whin-chat, @nanthe secunda,

Stone-chatter, Gnanthe tertia.

This is the smallest British
bird: haunts the tops of
tall trees; stays the
winter through.

Golden-crowned wren, Regulus cristatus.

A List of the Winter Birds of Passage round this neighbourhood, ranged
somewhat in the order in which they appear.

RAIL NOMINA.
This is a new migration,
which I have lately dis-
1, Ring-ousel, Merula torquata. covered about Michaelmas
week, and again about
' the fourteenth of March.

2. Redwing, Turdus ilvacus. About old Michaelmas.
f . ns at J Though a percher by. day,
3. Fieldfare, Turdus pilaris. |. roosts on the ground.
4. Royston-crow, Cornix cinerea. Most frequently on downs,
5. Woodcock, Scolopac. ae about old Michael-
. . Some snipes constantly
6. Snipe, Gallunago minor. brood with us:
7. Jack-snipe, Gallinago minima.
Seldom appears till late;
8. Wood-pigeon, Gnas. not in such plenty as
formerly.
9. Wild-swan, Cygnus ferus. On ‘some large waters.
10. Wild-goose, Anser ferus.
11. Wild-duck, a aac
12. Pochard Anas fera fusca.
13. Wi dacon, Penelope. On our lakes and streams.
14. Teal, breeds with us
in Wolmer Forest. } steniguclaiias
15. Crossbeak, Coccothraustes. These are only wanderers
16. Crossbill, Loxia, that appear occasionally,

17. Silk-tail, Garrulus Bohemi- il and are not observant of

cus. any regular migration.

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

1, 2, 3, Turdus. 9,10, 11, 12, 13,14, Anas.
4, Corvus. : 15, 16, Loxia.
5, 6,7, Scolopax. 17, Ampelis.

8, Columba.

96 RING-OUSELS.

Birds that sing in the night are but few :—

“ ri ey :
Nightingale, Paseiute. In shadiest covert hid.

Mitton.
Woodlak, Alauda arborea. Suspended in mid air,
{ Passer arundina- }- i
L -sparr’ 2 Among reeds and willows.
ess reed-sparrow, 1 ccus wiinor. f ig s

I should now proceed to such birds as continue to sing
after midsummer; but as they are rather numerous, they
would exceed the bounds of this paper; besides, 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.

LETTER XXVI.

TO THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

Serporne, dug. 30, 1769.
Dear Sir,—It gives me satisfaction to find that my account
of the ousel migration pleases you. You put a very shrewd
question when you ask me how I know that their autumnal
migration is southward. Were not candour and openness
the very life of natural history, I should pass over this query
just as a sly commentator does over a crabbed passage in a
classic ; but common ingenuousness obliges me to confess,
not without some degree of shame, that I only reasoned 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 mountain-
ous countries: but I have good reason to suspect since, that
they may come to us from the westward; because 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.

THE SALICARIA,-—REPTILES. 97

I have taken a great deal of pains about your salicaria 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 no more
nor less than the passer arundinaceus minor of Ray.* This
bird, by some means or other, seems to be entirely omitted
in the British Zoology; and one reason probably was,
because it is so strangely classed by Ray, who ranges it
among his pict affines. It ought, no doubt, to have gone
among his avicule caudé unicolore, and among your slender-
billed small birds of the same division. Linneus might,
with great propriety, have put it into his genus of motacilla;
and the motacilla salicaria of his fauna suecica 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 it the sedge-bird. It smgs incessantly, night and
day, during the breeding time, imitating the note of a
sparrow, a swallow, a skylark; and has a strange hurrying
manner in its song. My specimens correspond most
minutely to the description of your fen salicaria shot near
Revesby. Mr. Ray has given an excellent characteristic of
it when he says, Rostrum et pedes in hde aviculd muito
majores sunt quam pro corporis ratione. The beak and feet
of this bird are too large for the proportions of the rest of
the body.

Ihave got you the egg of an edienemus, or stone curlew,
which was picked up in a fallow on the naked ground: there
were two; but the finder inadvertently crushed one with
his foot before he saw them.

When I wrote to you last year on reptiles, I wish I had
not forgot to mention the faculty that snakes have of stink-
ing in self-defence. I knew a gentleman who kept a tame
snake, which was in its person as sweet as any animal, while
in good humour and unalarmed; but, as soon as a stranger,
ora dog or cat, came in, it fell to hissing, and filled the
room with such nauseous effluvia, as rendered it hardly sup-
portable. Thus the squnck, or stonck, of Ray’s Synop.

* See Letter xxrv. p. 82.

98 SINGING BIRDS

‘Quadr. isan innocuous and sweet animal; but, when pressed:
hard by dogs and men, it can eject such a most pestilent
and fetid smell and excrement, that nothing can be more
horrible.*

A gentleman sent me lately a fine specimen of the lanius
minor cinerascens cum maculd in scapulis albd, Ratt; Ray’s
lesser butcher-bird, ash-coloured, with a white spot at the
insertion of the wings; which is a bird that, at the time of
your publishing your two first volumes of British Zoology,
J find you had not seen. You have described it well from
Edwards’s drawing.

LETTER XXVII.

TO THE HON. DAINES BARRINGTON.

Sexporne, Nov. 2, 1769.
Dzar Str,—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 passage
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 England, 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 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.
RAIL NOMINA.
In January, and continues
1. Woodlark, Alauda arborea. to sing through all the
summer and autumn,

* It was formerly very much the custom with the young gentlemen of
Eton College (and may be so still) to keep snakes which they trained and
often carried about with them. They would eat bread and milk, and were
perfectly swect, except when irritated, and then they stunk, as Mr. White
remarks, Sedefendendo—Ep. _ :

SINGING BIRDS. 99

RAIL NOMINA,

: Te In February, and on to
2. Song-thrush, se eanipleecr } August; re-assume their
actus. .
song In autumn.
3. Wren, Passer troglodytes. ae 2 ity biased. Tronk ox:
4, Red-breast, Rubecula. Ditto.
5. Hedge-sparrow, Curruca. we a 0 eu oy Daly

. Yellow-hammer,

Early in February, and

Emberiza flava. ; on through July to
August the 21st.

In February, and on to

7. Skylark, Alauda vulgaris. Osher
8. Swallow, Hirundo domestica, From April to September.
, ies dai Beginning of April to
9. Black-cap, Atricapilla. July the 13th.
. Fr iddle of April to
10. Titlark, Alauda pratorum. { ia is 16th. En
Sometimes in February
oo . and March, and so on to
11. Blackbird, Merula vulgaris. July the 23d; re-assumes
in autumn.
12, White-throat, Ficedulee afimis, | ™ “Apps and on to July
; April, and through to Sep-
13. Goldfinch, Carduelis. temaber the 16th.
14. Greenfinch, Chloris. pe ed fad supa
Passer arundina- { May, on to beginning of
15. Less reed-sparrow, { ceus minor, July.

( Breeds and whistles on till
| August; re-assumes its
; note when they begin to
congregate in October,
and again early before the

16. Common linnet, Linaria vulgaris. |

flocks separate.

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

17. Middle willow- { Regulus non crista- [ Middle of June; begins in
wren, tus. April.
18. Redstart, Ruticilla. Ditto; begins in May.
oa Beginning of June; sings
19. Chaffinch, Fringilla. duit in: Hannay.
se Ge i Middle of June; sings: first
20. Nightingale, Luscinia. { itr pail 8

H2

100 SINGING BIRDS. ‘

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

January the 2nd, 1770, in
February. Is called in
Hampshire and Sussex the
storm-cock, because its
song is supposed to fore-
bode windy wet weather;
is the largest singing bird
we have.

ie February, March, April ;

21. Missel-bird, Turdus viscivorus.

re-assumes for a_ short

2. Gr i :
22. Great titmouse, or la ingillago.
time in September.

ox-eye,

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

Its note as minute as its

23. Golden - crowned person; frequents the

\ Regulus cristatus. |

wren, tops of high oaks and firs ;
the smallest British bird.
" los
24, Marsh titmouse, Parus pavustris. Hatath Greet Hess, tHe

harsh sharp notes.

Regulus non crista- § Sings in March and on to
tus. { September.

| "ci voce stridula lo-

25. Small willow-wreny

26. Largest ditto, Ditto. custe ; from end of April
to August.

Chirps all night, from the
middle of April to the

end of July.

Alauda minima

27. Grasshopper-lark, one locates

“ % cass All the breeding time ; from
28. Martin, Hirundo agrestis. | May 10 Septerabiets,
29. Bullfinch, Pyrrhula.
20. Bunting, ‘Emberiza alba. From the end of January

to July.

All singing birds, and those that have any pretensions to
song, not only in Britain, but perhaps the world through,
come under the Linnzan ordo of passeres.

The above-mentioned birds, as they stand numerically,
belong to the following Linnezan genera :—

1, 7, 10, 27, Alauda. 8, 28, Hirundo.
2, 11, 21, Turdus. 13, 16, 19, Fringilla.
3, 4, 5, 9, 12, 15, ;
17, 18, 20, 23, } Motacilla. 22, 24, Parus.
25, 26, .

6, 30, Emberiza. 14, 29, Loxia.

SINGING BIRDS. 101

Birds that sing as they fly are but few :—

Rising, suspended, and

Skylark, Alauda vulgaris. fale
In its descent; also sitting
Titlark, Alauda pratorum. on trees, and walking on
the ground.
os er Suspended; in hot summer
Woodlark, Alauda arborea. { Bisbioal nies long.
Blackbird, Merula. Sane Fae es SU Ue
Uses, when singing on the
Whitethroat, Ficedule afinis. wing, odd jerks and ges-
ticulations.
Swallow, Hivundo domestica. In soft sunny weather.
Wren, Passer troglodytes. ae as toma Shieh. te

Birds that breed most early in these parts :—

Raven, Corvus. Hatches in February and:

March.
Song-thrush, Turdus. In March.
Blackbird, Merula. In March.
ian Gicted Builds the beginning of
Rook, Corniz frugilega. . March.
Woodlark, Alauda arborea. Hatches in April.
Ringdove, ee a { Lays the beginning of April.

All birds that continue in full song till after midsummer,
appear to me to breed more than once.

Most kinds of birds seem to me to be wild and shy, some-
what in proportion to their bulk: I mean in this island,
where they are much pursued and annoyed; but in Ascen-
sion 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. Asan example of what is advanced, I remark that the
golden-crested wren, (the smallest British bird,) will stand
unconcerned till you come within three or four yards of it,
while the bustard (otis,) the largest British land fowl, does
not care to admit a person within so many furlongs.

102 SCOTLAND.

LETTER XXVIII.

/ 20 THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

SeLporne, Dec. 8, 1769.
Dear Srr,—I was much gratified by your communicative
letter 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 themselves 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 dispatch,
than as philosophers investigating the works of nature.
You must have made, no doubt, many discoveries, 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 seques-
tered enough, is a circumstance 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 migrators that visit us for a short space every autumn,
do not come from thence.

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 30th of Sep-
tember; 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 congeners do, and then left us, as they do, in spring, I
should not be so much struck with the occurrence, since it

FIELDFARES. 103

would be similar to that of the other winter birds of passage;
but when I see them for a fortnight at Michaelmas, and
again for about a week in the middle of April, I am seized
with wonder, and long to be informed whence these travel-
lers 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-fleck, 1s
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 begin to 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 frequent 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,t 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.t

You admit, I find, that I have proved your fen salicaria
to be the lesser reed-sparrow of Ray ; and I think you may
be secure that Iam 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.

* In the snow-fleck, which is now separated from the buntings, and, with
the Lapland finch, forms the genus plectrophanes of Meyer and modern
ornithologists, the wings are of considerable length, fitting them for more
extensive journeys than the true emberize.—W. J.

+ This is now admitted into the British Fauna, having been killed at different
times in various parts of Great Britain—W.J. Mr. Bennett says it has been
shot in Yorkshire and Suffolk as well as in Scotland.

{+ Under the term “wild geese,” four or five species are generally included.
They used to breed in the fens of Lincolnshire, but improvements in agricul-
ture have driven them from that locality. They now probably breed much in
Sweden, but uot far inland.—Eb.

104 BATS.

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

As a neighbour was lately ploughing im a dry chalky field,
far removed from any water, he turned out a water-rat, that
was curiously laid up in an hybernaculum, artificially formed
of grass and leaves. At one end of the burrow lay about a
gallon of potatoes, regularly stowed, on which it was to have
supported itself for the winter. But the difficulty with me
is how this amphibius mus came to fix its winter 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 constant
practice of the aquatic rat to forsake the neighbourhood of
the water in the colder months ?

Though I delight very little in analogous reasoning, know-
ing how fallacious it is with respect to natural 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 hirwndo apus, or swift, so many weeks
before its congeners; and that not only with us, but also in
Andalusia, where they begin to retire about the beginning
of August.

The great large batt (which, by the by, 1s 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

* Lepus variabilis—W. J.

+ The little bat appears almost every month in the year; but I have never
seen the large ones till the end of April, nor after July. They are most
common in June, but never in any plenty: are a rare species with us.

The great bat, vespertilio noctula or altivolans, certainly winters in
England, as they have been found in winter in old buildings near Kingston-on-
Thames, and at Wimbledon. They congregate, in summer at least, for a flock
of from twelve to fifteen of them were seen to take possession of an old tree
in Hampton Court gardens in which was a nest of young starlings, nearly
fledged. These the bats soon destroyed and probably fed on, I turned them
out of the tree several times in the day-time, but they invariably returned to
it for three weeks, when they finally abandoned it, They fled high in the
day-time although the sun was shining.—Ep,

SINGING BIRDS. 105

region of the air; and that is the reason I never could pro-
cure one.* Now, this is exactly the case with the switfts;
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 water. From
hence I would conclude, that these hirwndines, and the
larger bats, are supported by some sorts of high-flying gnats,
scarabs, or phalene, that are of short continuance, and that
the short stay of these strangers is regulated by the defect
of their food.

By my journal it appears that curlews clamoured on to
October the thirty-first, since which I have not seen or
heard any. Swallows were observed on to November the

third.

LETTER XXIX.

TO THE HON. DAINES BARRINGTON.

SELBoRNE, Jan. 15, 1770.
Dear S1r,—It was no small matter of satisfaction to me
to find that you were not displeased with my little methodus,
or systematic table of birds. If there was any merit in the
sketch, it must be owing to its punctuality. For many
months I carried a list in my pocket of the birds that were
to be remarked, and as I rode or walked about my business,
I noted each day the continuance or omission of each bird’s
song, so that I am as sure of the certainty 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 Iam able. Perhaps Eastwick, and 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

* Mr. Whitc has the merit of first noticing this species in England: it is
the vespertilio noctula of Dr. Fleming, and said by that naturalist to winter
in Italy.—W. J.

106 BIRDS IN CAGES.

your eye on my last letter, you will find that many species
continued to warble after the beginning of July.

The titlark and yellow-hammer breed late, the latter 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
incurious 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
less 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
former has such a wild sweetness that it always brings to my
mind those lines in a song in “ As You Like It :”’—

And tune his merry note

Unto the wild bird’s throat.
The latter 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 advantage. It is, notwithstanding,
a delicate polyglot.

It is new to me that titlarks in cages sing in the night;
perhaps only caged birds do so. I once knew a tame red-
breast 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 tribe, which increases prodigiously as the summer
advances; and I saw at the time mentioned, many hundreds
of young wagtails on the banks of the Cherwell, which
almost covered the meadows. Ifthe 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 ?

Tur Cockoo

THE CUCKOO. 107

Many times have I had the curiosity to open the stomachs
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.

LETTER XXX.

TO THE SAME.

: Srizorne, Feb. 19, 1770.
Drar S1z,—Your observation, that “the cuckoo does not
deposit 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 entrust its young,” *
is perfectly new to me; and struck me so forcibly, that I
naturally fell into a train of thought that led me to consider
whether the fact were so, and what reason there was for it.
‘When I came to recollect and inquire, I could not find that
any cuckoo had ever been seen in these parts, except in the
nest of the wagtail, the hedge-sparrow, the titlark, the white-
throat and the red-breast, all soft-billed insectivorous birds.
The excellent Mr. Willughby mentions the nest of the
palumbus, (ring-dove,) and of the fringilla, (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, that he saw himself a wagtail feeding a
cuckoo. It appears hardly possible that a soft-billed bird

* Providence, or rather the great Creator, who does everything for the best,
has so ordained it that the cuckoo only deposits its eggs in those nests in
which the young will be fed with the food most congenial with their nature,
in fact in those of birds strictly insectivorous. It is a curious fact, and one I ~
believe not hitherto noticed by naturalists, that the cuckoo deposits its egg in
the nest of the titlark, robin, wagtail, &c., by means of its foot. If the bird
sat on the nest while the egg was laid, the weight of its body would crush the
nest, and cause it to be forsaken, and thus one of the ends of Providence
would be defeated. I have found the eggs of a cuckoo in the nest of a
white-throat, built in so small a hole in a garden wall that it was absolutely
impossible for the cuckoo to have got into it—Ep,

108 THE CUCKOO.

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 granivorous tribe, have strong
muscular gizzards, which, like mills, grind, by the help of
small gravels and pebbles, what is swallowed. This proceed-
ing 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 cropy) that seems to raise the kind in general above
themselves, and inspire them with extraordinary degrees of
cunning and address, may be still endued with a more en-
larged 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 sub-
jected 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 con-
cerning the defect of natural affection in the ostrich, may
be well applied to the bird we are talking of :—

“She is hardened against her young ones, as though they
were not hers: ;

“Because God hath deprived her of wisdom, neither hath
he imparted to her understanding.” +

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

* If the cuckoo made a nest as other birds do, and fed and brought up its
young in the usual way, would not the harsh note of the male bird lead to the
easy discovery of the nest, and thus the breed might be extinguished >—Ep.

+ Job xxxix. 16,17.

{ It is now known from the examination of the ovariwm, that the cuckoo
lays several eggs.—En.

HEDGEHOGS. 109

LETTER XXXT.

TO THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

Seiporne, Feb. 22, 1770.
Duar Srr,—Hedge-hogs* abound in my gardens and
fields. The manner in which they eat the roots of the plan-
tain in my grass walks 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 service-
able, 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 th
turf, that beetles are no inconsiderable part of their food.
In June last, I procured a litter of four or five young hedge-
hogs, 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
flexible at the time of their birth, or else the poor dam would
have but a bad time of it in the critical moment of parturi-
tion: but it is plain that they soon harden ; for these little
pigs had 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

* The hedge-hog feeds indiscriminately on flesh and vegetables, is very fond
of eggs, doing considerable mischief by destroying game during the breeding
season. It will even enter a hen-house, and, when within its reach, will turn off
the hens, and devour the eggs. They are frequently caught in traps, bailed
with eggs, for the carrion crows. They are casily tamed, and become very
familiar in a state of confinement; will eat bread, potatoes, fruit, flesh—raw
or cooked—without any apparent choice.—W.J. They will soon learn to
distinguish the person by whom they are fed, and will uncoil themselves at
the sound of his voice.—W. C. T.

+ The young are frequently detected and killed by keepers. The incessant
cry they make for their mother when hungry, Jeads to their discovery. I am
assured that the old hedge-hogs hunt eagerly for cockchafers which have
dropped from the oaks in Richmond park.—Ep.

110 FIELDFARES—MOOSE-DEER.

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 muscle, that enables the creature to roll itself up
in a ball, was not then arrived at its full tone and firmness.
Hedge-hogs make a deep and warm hybernaculum with
leaves and moss, in which they conceal themselves for the
winter; but I never could find that they stored in any
winter provision, as some quadrupeds certainly do.

I have discovered an anecdote with respect to the fieldfare
(turdus pilaris), which, 1 think, is particular enough: this
bird, though it sits on trees in the day-time, and procures
the greatest part of its food from white-thorn hedges; yea,
moreover, builds on very high trees, as may be seen by the
Sauna 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 in our forest.
And besides, the larkers, in dragging their nets by night,
frequently catch them in the wheat-stubbles; while the bat
fowlers, who take many red-wings 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 seldom in my
way; my little intelligence is confined to the narrow sphere
of my own observations at home.

LETTER XXXTI.

TO THE SAME.

; SELBORNE, March, 1770.
Ow Michaelmas-day, 1768, I managed to get a sight of the
female moose belonging to the Duke of Richmond, at Good-
wood; but was greatly disappointed, when I arrived at the
spot, to find that it had died, after having appeared in a
languishing way for some time, on the morning before.

’

MOOSE-DEER. 111

However, understanding that it was not stripped, I pro-
ceeded to examine this rare quadruped: I found it in an old
greenhouse, slung under the belly and chin by ropes, and in
a standing posture; but, thongh 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, con-
sisted in the strange length of its legs; on which it was
tilted up much in the manner of the birds of the gralle
order. I measured it as they do a 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 straddling with one foot forward and the
other backward, it grazed on the plain ground, with the
greatest difficulty, between its legs: the ears were vast and
lopping, and as long as the neck ; the head was about twenty
inches long, and ass-like; and had such a redundancy 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 crea-
ture supports itself chiefly by browsing off trees, and by
wading after water plants ; towards which way of livelihood
the length of legs and great lips must contribute much. I
have read somewhere, that it delights in eating the nymphea,
or water-lly. From the fore-feet to the belly, behind the
shoulder, it measured three feet and eight inches ; the length _
of the legs, before and behind, consisted a great deal in the
tibia, which was strangely long; but, in my haste to get out
of the stench, I forgot to measure that joint exactly. lts scut
seemed to be about an inch long: the colour was a grizzly
black; the mane about four inches long; the fore-hoots 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

* The legs of the moose are so long, and the neck so short, that they are
unable to graze on level ground, like other animals, but are obliged to browse
on the tops of large plants, and the leaves of trees in the summer; and in

winter they feed on the tops of willows, and the small branches of the birch-
tree.—Eb. :

112 SINGING BIRDS.

moust a full-grown stag be! I have been told 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 betore.
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 have
always been a bar to any commerce of the amorous kind. I
should have been glad to have examined the teeth, tongue,
lips, hoofs, &c., minutely ; but the putrefaction precluded all
farther 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 sbags on the edge. The noble owner of the dead
moose proposed to make a skeleton of her bones.

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

LETTER XXXIJII.

TO THE HON. DAINES BARRINGTON.
SELBoRNE, April 12, 1770.
Dzaz Sir,—I heard many birds of several species sing
last year after midsummer; enough to prove that the sum-
mer 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 wood-lark, the
wren, the red-breast, the swallow, the white-throat, the
goldfinch, the common linnet, are all undoubted instances of
the truth of what I advanced.
If this severe season does not interrupt the regularity of
the summer migrations, the black-cap will be here in two or
three days.* I wish it was in my power to procure you one

* Through the attention of W. Carruthers, Esq., of Dormont, I have
lately received the black-cap, with some others of our summer birds, from
Madeira, where it is probable they partly retire, on leaving their breeding
places.—W. J.

EFFECTS OF FROST ON ANIMAIS. 113

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. 3

Was your reed-sparrow, which you kept in a cage, the
thick billed reed-sparrow of the Zoology, p, 320; or was it
the less reed-sparrow of Ray, the sedge-bird of Mr. Pennant’s
last publication, p. 16 ? :

As to the matter of long-billed birds growing fatter in
moderate frosts, I have no doubt within myself what should
bethe 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 blackbirds, &c.; and farmers and warreners observe,
the first, that their hogs fat 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 altered; for then.a want of
food soon overbalances the repletion occasioned by a checked
perspiration. I have observed, moreover, that some human
constitutions 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 red-wing fieldfares, 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 scandalised at the vast 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, 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 moreover, a hen turkey,
in the same circumstances, would sit on in the empty nest
till she perished with hunger.

I think the matter might easily be determined whether a
cuckco lays one or two eggs, or more, in a season, by open-

* By a wise provision of nature, and to prevent the very circumstazce
which Mr. White here notices, we find the egg of the cuckoo scarcely larger
that that of the common chaffinch—W. J.

But the young cuckoo is, beyond all doubt, larger than the birds that are
usually found in the same nest2—W. C. T.

I

114 SILENCE OF SINGING BIRDS.

ing a female during the laying time. If more than one were
come down out of the ovary, and advanced to a good size,
doubtless, then, she would that spring lay more than one.*

' I will endeavour to get a hen, and examine.

Your supposition that there may be some natural obstruc-
tion in singing birds while they are mute, and that when
this is removed the song recommences, 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
caprimulgus, or fern-owl: you were, I find, acquainted with
the bird before.

‘When we meet, I shall be glad to have some conversation
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, I fear,
that I am 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 endea-
vours to be sure of his facts) can make but slow progress;
and all that one could collect in many years would go into a
very narrow compass.

Some extracts from your ingenious “ Investigations of the
difference between the present temperature of the air in
Ttaly,” &c., have fullen in my way, and given me great satis-
faction. They have removed the objection that always arose
in my mind whenever 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 fre-
quently occurred !

P.S. Swallows appear amidst snows and frost.

* It may be mentioned in confirmation of the idea of their laying more
than one egg, that the American cuckoos deposit several—Ep.

MIGRATION, 115

s

LETTER XXXIV.

TO THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

Setzorne, May 12, 1770.
Dear Srr,—Last month we had such a series of cold tur-
bulent weather, such a constant succession of frost, and snow,
and hail, and tempest, that the regular migration, or appear-
ance of the summer birds, was much interrupted. Some did
not show themselves (at least were not heard) till weeks
after their usual time, as the black-cap and white-throat;
and some have not been heard yet, as the grasshopper-lark
and largest willow-wren. As to the fly-catcher, I have not
seen it; it is, indeed, one of the latest, but should appear
about this time; and yet, amidst all this meteorous strife
and war of the elements, two swallows discovered themselves
as long ago as the eleventh of April, in frost and snow: but
they withdrew quickly, and were not visible again for many
days.* House-martins, which are always more backward
than swallows, were not observed till May came in.

Among the monogamous birds, several are to be found,
after pairing time, single 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.t

I have known a dove-house infested by a pair of white
owls, which made great havoc among the young pigeons:

#* It is certain that swallows re-migrate; that is, if on some of them
arriving in this country the weather is ungenial, they leave it again for a short
time. So in the autumnal migrations, swallows, after their flight, will return
again to this country if they meet in their passage with adverse winds or
storms. An observant naturalist residing near Liverpool has assured me of
this fact.—Eb,

+ The celerity with which birds find mates after a male or female has been
shot, is very extraordinary. I have observed this among pigeons more par-
ticularly. —Ep.

12

116 PAIRING OF BIRDS—CATS.

one of the owls was shot as soon as possible ; but the sur-
vivor 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 pairing 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 she was still provided with a fresh paramour,
that did not take her away from her usual haunt.

Again: I knew a lover of setting, an old sportsman, who
has often told me that, soon after harvest, he has frequently
taken small coveys of partridges 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, unassisted, 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.*

* In the Library of Entertaining Knowledge, on the authority of Dr.
Darwin, cats fish: he says, “ Mr. Leonard, a very intelligent friend of mine,
saw a cat catch a trout, by darting upon it in a deep clear water, at the mill at
Weaford, near Lichfield. The cat belonged to Mr. Stanley, who had often
scen her catch fish in the same manner in summer, when the mill-pool was
drawn so low that the fish could be seen. I have heard cf other cats taking
fish in shallow water, as they stood on the bank. This seems to be a natural
method of taking their prey, usually lost by domestication, though they all
retain a strong relish for fish.” The Rev. W. Bingley mentions another
instance of a cat freely taking the water, related by his friend Mr. Bill, of
Christchurch. When he lived at Wallington, near Carshalton, in Surrey,
he had a cat that was often known to plunge, without hesitation, into the
river Wandle, and swim over to an island at a little distance from the bank.
To this there could be no other inducement than the fish she might catch
on her passage, or the vermin that the island afforded._W. J.

“ These are curious instances,” says the editor of the London Literary
Gazette, in reviewing a former edition of this volume, “but the following,
which may be depended upon as a fact, is still more remarkable. At Caverton
Mill, in Roxburghshire, a beautiful spot upon Kale Water, there was a
favourite cat, domesticated in the dwelling-house, which stood at two or three

RETURN OF SUMMER BIRDS. 117

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 inhabitants of the waters.
Not supposing that we had any of those beasts in our shallow
brooks, | 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 Harteleywood.

LETTER XXXYV.

TO THE HON. DAINES BARRINGTON.

SELBorNE, May 21, 1770.
Dear Srx,—The severity and turbulence of last month so
interrupted the regular process of summer migration, that
some of the birds do but just begin: to show themselves, and
others are apparently thinner than usual; as the white-
throat, the black-cap, the red-start, the fly-catcher. I well
remember that, after the very severe spring in the year
1789-40, summer birds of passage were very scarce. They
come probably hither with a south-east wind, or when it
. blows between those points; but, in that unfavourable year,
the winds blew the whole spring and summer through from
the opposite quarters. And yet, amidst all these disadvan-
tages, two swallows, as I mentioned in my last, appeared
this year as early as the 11th of April, amidst frost and
snow; but they withdrew again for a time.

hundred yards from the mill. When the mill-work ceased, the water was, as
usual, stopped at the dam-head, and the dam below consequently ran gradually
more shallow, often leaving trout, which had ascended when it was full, to
struggle back with difficulty to the parent stream; and so well acquainted had
puss become with this circumstance, and so fond was puss of fish, the moment
the noise of the mill-clapper ceased, she used to scamper off to the dam, and,
up to her belly in water, continue to catch fish like an otter. It would not
be very easy to cite a more curious case of animal instinct approaching ~to
reason, and overcoming the usual habits of the species.”

118 REED-SPARROW—PLUMAGE.

I am not pleased to find that some people seem so little
satisfied with Scopoli’s new publication.* There is room to
expect great things from the hands of that man, who is a
good naturalist; and one would think that a history of the
birds of so distant and southern a region as Carniola would
be new and interesting. I could wish to see that work, and
hope to get it sent down. Dr. Scopoli is physician to the
wretches that work in the quicksilver mines of that district.

When you talked of keeping a reed-sparrow, and giving it
seeds, I could not help wondering ; because the reed-sparrowt
which I mentioned to you (passer arundinaceus minor, Rati)
is a soft-billed bird, and most probably migrates hence before
winter ; whereas the bird you kept ( passer torquatus, Raii)t
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 former has a variety of
hurrying notes, and sings all night. Some part of the song
of the former, I suspect, 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. See British Zoology last published, p. 16.§

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 considered, and is of such a nature
as not to be contained in a small space, I shall say nothing
farther about it at present.||

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

* This work he calls his “ Annus Primus Historico-Naturalis,’—* First
Annual of Natural History,” is probably the most intelligible translation of
the title.

+ The Sedge-warbler (Salicaria phragmitis).

t The Reed-bunting (BZmberiza scheniclus).

§ See Letter xxv1. To Thomas Pennant, Esq.

{| See Letter rxxiv. To the Hon, Daines Barrington.

|| If the young had their full plumage the first year, or when they quitted
their nest, they would in their then feeble state be more exposed to be killed
by birds of prey, and other casualties. It seems therefore a benevolent design
of Providence that the more humble plumage should remain on them till they
are more able to protect themselves.— Ep.

MOOSE-DEER, 119

the chief external sexual distinction in many birds, these
colours do not take place till sexual attachments begin to
obtain. And the case is the same in 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., &c., strongly discriminate the male
from the female. We may instance still farther 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 life; for a beautiful youth shall be
so like a beautiful girl, that the difference shall not be
discernible :—

Quem si puellarum insereres choro,
Miré sagaces falleret hospites
Discrimen obscurum, solutis
Crinibus, ambigudéque vultu.”—Hor.

If he were by girls surrounded,
Strangers soon would be confounded :
Manhood’s form could no one trace
In his beardless female face.

LETTER XXXVI.

TO THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

Setpornez, Aug. 1, 1770.
Dear Srr,—The French, I think, in general, are strangely
prolix in their natural history. What Linneus says with
respect to insects holds good in every other branch: “ Ver-
bosttas presentis seculi, calamitas artis.”

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

I forgot to mention in my last letter (and had not room
to insert 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. Lawrence: it was a monstrous beast,
he told me; but he did not take the dimensions.

120 RING-OUSELS.

When I was last in town, our friend Mr. Barrington 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 wonderful specimens. There is, I remem-
ber, at Lord Pembroke’s, at Wilton, a horn-room furnished
with more than thirty different pairs; but I have not seen
that house lately. ‘

Mr. Barrington showed me many astonishing collections
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 lowia and fringilla genera; and no mota-
cille or muscicapide,* 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 the soft-billed birds, which are supported by
worms and insects, or, what is a succedaneum 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.

LETTER XXXVI.

TO THE SAME.

SELBornNE, Sept. 14, 1770.
Dear Srr,—You saw, I find, the ring-ousels again among
their native crags; and are farther assured that they con-
tinue resident in those cold regions the whole year. From
whence then do our ring-ousels migrate so regularly every
September, and make their appearance again, as if in their
return, every April? They are more early this year than

* This collection must have been very limited, and, of course, the conclusions
erroneously drawn from a few species. The muscicapide and sylviade
abound in all South America.—W. J.

RING-OUSELS, 121

common, for some were seen at the usual hill on the fourth
of this month.

An observing Devonshire gentleman tells me, that they
frequent some parts of Dartmoor, and breed there, but leave
those haunts about the end of September, 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 October and November, and
return in spring. This information seems to throw some
light on my new migration.

Scopoli’s new work * (which I have just procured), has its
merits, 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 approba-
tion from the lovers of natural history ; for, as no man can
alone investigate all the works of nature, these partial
writers may, each in his 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 history. Not that Scopoliis so circumstantial
and attentive to the life and conversation of his birds as I
could wish: he advances some false facts; as when he says
of the hirundo urbica, that, “ pullos extra nidum non nutrit.”
This assertion I know to be wrong, from repeated observa-
tion 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 1s 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 “pullos rostro
portat fugiens ab hoste,’—flying from the enemy it carries
its young in its beak.t But candour forbids me to say
absolutely that any fact is false because I have never been

* Annus Primus Historico-Naturalis.

+ It isan undoubted fact, of which I have had ample proof, that when
woodcocks breed in this country, they deposit their eggs on some dry bank,
and as soon as the young are hatched they are conveyed to the nearest swamp,
or wet place, where food can be procured. JI am assured that this is done by
means of the beak of the old birds. I have the authority of the keeper of
a friend of mine, who saw this mode of conveyance practiced.—Ep,

122 SCOPOLI’S ANNUS PRIMUS.

witness to such a fact. Ihave only to remark, that the long
unwieldy bill of the woodcock is, perhaps, the worst adapted
of any among the winged creation for such a feat of natural
affection.

LETTER XXXVIII.

TO THE HON. DAINES BARRINGTON.
Riemer, near Lewes, October 8, 1770.
Dear Srr,—I am glad to hear that Kuekalm is to furnish
you with the birds of Jamaica. <A sight of the herundines
of that hot and distant island would be a great entertain-
ment to me.

The Anni of Scopoli are now in my possession; and I
have read the Annus Primus with satisfaction; for, though
some parts of this work are exceptionable, and he may
advance some mistaken observations, yet the ornithology of
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 monographer.

The reason perhaps, why he mentions nothing of Ray’s
Ornithology, may be the extreme poverty and distance of his
country, into which the works of our great naturalists may
have never yet found their way. You have doubts, I know,
whether this Ornithology is genuine, and really the work of
Scopoli: as to myself, | think I discover strong tokens of
anthenticity ; the style corresponds with that of his Ento-
mology ; and his characters of his Ordines and Genera are
many of them new, expressive, and masterly, He has
ventured to alter some of the Linnean 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 between the species.*

* There are few birds which appear to possess less of angry passions than

CUCKOOS. 123

Ray remarks, that birds of the galling order, as cocks and
hens, partridges and pheasants, &c., are pulveratrices, such
as dust themselves, using that method of cleansing their
feathers, and ridding themselves 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 pulveratrices, 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 pulveratrices? 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 scrupu-
lously 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 this extraordinary pheno-
menon, 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

—— in tenui re

Majores pennas nido extendisse.”

a

Though by poverty depress’d,
Spreading its wings beyond the nest ;

and was very fierce and pugnacious, pursuing my finger, as I
teased it, for many feet from the nest, and sparring and
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 expressing the greatest solicitude.

the swallow. Although it “twitters sweetly,” there is in its song no appear-
ance of emulation. On the contrary it seems to proceed from feelings of
happiness and complacency, which cannot be mistaken. I like to watch it
darting now and then to its nest, and uttering that little note of love which
is responded to by the female while she is performing her task of incubation.
And then to see its airy evolutions!
“T delight to see

How suddenly he skims the glassy pool,

How quaintly dips, and with an arrow’s speed

Whisks by. I love to be awake, and hear

His morning song twitter’d to dawning day.”"—Hurdis. Ep,

124 CROSSBEAKS.

In July, I saw several cuckoos skimming over a large

ue ; and found, after some observation, that they were
eeding on the libellule, or dragon-flies, some of which they

caught as they settled on the weeds, and some as they were
on the wing. Notwithstanding what Linnzus says, I cannot
be induced 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, considerable flocks of
cross-beaks (lowie curvirostre,) have appeared this summer
in the pine groves belonging to this house ;* the water-ousel

* The species of cross-bills are only three in number. One loxia curvi-
rostra, pays frequent visits, in flocks of from ten to eighty or a hundred in
number, during the winter. The loxia pittyopsittacus has only been once
recorded as a native of this country, from a specimen killed in Ross-shire, and
now in my possession; it can, therefore, only be ranked as an occasional
visitant: it isa native of Germany and North America. The third species,
loxia falcirostra, also a native of North America, has once been shot within
two miles of Belfast, Ireland,—the only authenticated instance of its visiting
our coasts, Ina late number of the Zoological Journal, Mr. Yarrel (whom
we have already had occasion to mention as a most persevering naturalist), has
supplied some very interesting facts regarding the formation and direction of
the beak of the common cross-bill, und which, we think, are here worthy of
notice :—“ The beak of the cross-bill is altogether unique in its form ; the
mandibles do not lie upon each other, with their lateral edges in opposition, as
in other birds, but curve to the right and left, and always in opposite direc-
tions to each other. In some specimens, the upper mandibles curve down-
wards and to the left; the under portion turned upwards, and to the right.
When holding the head of this bird in my fingers, I found I could bring the
under mandible in a line underneath, and touching the point of the upper, but
not beyond it, towards the left side; while, on its own side, the point passed
with ease to the distance of 3-8th of an inch. The upper mandible has a
limited degree of motion on the cranium, the superior maxillary and nasal
bones being united to the frontal by flexible bony lamina.

“ The form as well as the magnitude of the processes of some of the bones
of the head are also peculiar to this bird. The pterygoid processes of the pala-
tine bones are considerably elongated downwards, to afford space for the
insertion of the large pterygoid muscles. The os omotdewm on each side is
strongly articulated to the os quadratum, affording firm support to the
upper mandible. The jugal bone is united to the superior maxillary bone in
front—is firmly attached by its posterior extremity to the outer side of the
os quadratum : when, therefore, the os quadratum is pulled upwards and
forwards by its own peculiar muscles, the jugal bone on each side, by its
pressure forwards, elevates the upper mandible.

“ The inferior projecting process of the os guadratum, to which the lower
jaw is articulated, in most other birds is somewhat linear from before back-
wards, and compressed at the sides, admitting vertical motion only upwards and

HE CROSSRBILL,

,

RING-OUSELS. 125

is said to haunt the mouth of the Lewes river, near New-
haven; 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-ousels

downwards ; the same process in the cross-bill is spherical. The cavity in the
lower jaw, destined to receive this process, is a hollow circular cup. The
union of these two portions, therefore, forms an articulation possessing the
universal motion and flexibility of the mechanical ball-and-socket joint. The
lower jaw is of great strength, the sides or plates elevated, with prominent
coronoid processes, to which, as well as to the whole outer sides of the plates,
the temporal muscle is attached ; and in a head of this bird, which had been
divested of all the soft parts, I found, on sliding the lower laterally upon the
upper, as performed by the bird, that, before the coronoid process is brought
into contact with the pterygoid, on its own side, the extreme points of the
mandibles were separated laterally to the extent I have already mentioned of
8-8ths of an inch. The temporal and pyramidal muscles on the right side of
the head (that being the side to which the lower jaw inclined,) were consider-
ably larger than those of the left, and indicated by their bulk the great lateral
power this bird is capable of exerting, to be hereafter noticed. The unusually
large size of the pterygoid muscles, on each side, was very conspicuous, the
space for them being obtained by the great distance to which the articulated
extremities of the lower jaw were removed ; and the food of the bird being
small seeds, rendered a narrow pharynx sufficient for the purpose of swallow-
ing. The muscles depressing the lower mandible are three in number, only
one of which, the greater pyramidal, is visible. This strong muscle covers
two other small ones, the triangular and square muscles, so called from their
particular shape. These three muscles, all of which have their origin in the
occipital portion of the cranium, are inserted by strong tendons on the under
and back of each extremity of the lower jaw, behind the centre of motion, and,
consequently, by their simultaneous contraction, raise the point to which they
are attached, and depress the anterior part of the mandible. The lower
portions of the ossa guadrata are pushed somewhat forwards by this compression,
assisted by two small muscles; one of these, a small flat muscle, arises from
the septum of the orbits, behind the small aperture observed in the septum,
and passes downwards to be inserted upon the projecting styloid process of the
os quadratum. The second is a small pyramidal-shaped muscle, arising also
from the septum, anterior to the other muscle, and, passing downwards and
backwards, is inserted upon the omozdeum, both by their contraction pulling
the os quadratum forwards, and thus elevating the other mandible. The
depressors of the lower jaw, and the elevators of the upper, therefore, act
together to separate the mandibles. To close the mandibles, the temporal and
pterygoid muscles elevate the lower jaw, assisted by slender slips, which,
extending forwards to the superior maxillary bones, act in concert, by bringing
them down. When the lateral motion is required, the great pyramidal muscle
on the right side pulls the extremity of the lower jaw, to which it is attached,
backwards, the pterygoid muscles on the left side at the same time powerfully
assisting, by carrying that side of the lower jaw inwards.”

Mr. Yarrel next goes on to explain the use of the tongue. Their food is

126 LAND TORTOISE.

(my newly-discovered migrators), scattered, at intervals, all
along the Sussex downs from Chichester to Lewes. Let
them come frum whence they will, it looks very suspicious
that they are cantoned all 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 appre-
hensions 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 short-winged
birds of passage crowding towards the coast, in order for

the sceds of the different fir-cones ; and their mode of operation, when pro-
ceeding to extract them, is this:—They first fix themselves across the cone ;
then, bringing the points of the maxilla from their crossed or lateral position
to lie immediately over each other, in this reduced compass they insinuate their
beaks between the scales, and then opening them, not in the usual manner,
but by drawing the inferior maxilla sideways, force open the scales, Mr. Yarrel
then proceeds :— At this stage of the proceeding, the aid of the tongue
becomes necessary, and this organ is no less admirably adapted for the service
required. The os hyoides, or bone of the tongue, has articulated to its ante-
rior extremity an additional portion, formed partly of bone, with a horny
covering. In shape it is narrow, about 3-8ths of an inch in length, and
extends downwards and forwards, the sides curved upwards, the distal
extremity shaped like a scoop, somewhat pointed and thin on both edges, the
proximal extremity ending iu two small processes, elongated upwards and
backwards above the articulation with the bone of the tongue, each process
having inserted upon it a slender muscle extending backwards to the glottis,
and attached to the os hyoides, which muscles, by their contraction, extend and
raise the scoop-like point; underneath the articulation of this horny and
grooved appendage is another small muscle, which is attached at one extremity
to the os hyotdes, at the other to the moveable piece, and, by its action, as an
antagonist to the upper muscles, bends the point downwards and backwards ;
while, therefore, the point of the beak presses the shell from the body of the
cone, the tongue, brought forward by its own muscle (genio-hyoideus), is
enabled, by the additional muscles described, to direct and insert its cutting
scoop underneath the seed, and the food thus dislodged is transferred to the
mouth; and, when the mandibles are separated laterally in this operation, the
bird has an uninterrupted view of the seed in the cavity, with the eye on that
side to which the under mandible is curved.”

For farther information consult Zoological Jowrnal, vol. iv. p. 459.—W. J.

SCOPOLI’S ANNUS PRIMUS. 127

‘their departure; but it was very extraordinary that I never

saw a red-start, white-throat, black-cap, 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-chatters, whin-chats, buntings, linnets,
some few wheat-ears, titlarks, &c. Swallows and house-
martins abound yet, induced to prolong their stay by this
soft, still, dry season.

A land-tortoise, which has been kept for thirty years in a
little walled court belonging to the house where [ am now
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 ; so
that for the last six weeks in autumn it hardly eats at all.
Milky plants, such as lettuces, dandelions, sow-thistles, are
its favourite dish. In a neighbouring village one was kept
till, by tradition, it was supposed to be an hundred years old,
—an instance of vast longevity in such a poor reptile !

LETTER XXXIX.

TO THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.
SELBORNE, Oct. 29, 1770.
Dear Srz,—Afier an ineffectual search in Linneus, Bris-
son, &c., I begin to suspect that I discern my brother’s
hirundo hyberna in Scopoli’s new-discovered hirundo rupes-
tris, p. 167. His description of “Supra murina, subtus albida ;
tectrices maculd ovali albé in latere interno ; pedes nudi, nigri ;
rostrum nigrum ; remiges obscuriores quam plume dorsales ;
rectrices remigibus concolores ; caudd emarginaté nee forci-
paté,” agrees very well with the bird in question; but when
he comes to advance that it is “ statura hirundinis urbice,”
and that “ definito hirundinis riparie Linnei huic quoque
convenit,” he, in some measure, invalidates all he has said;

128 SUMMER BIRDS OF PASSAGE.

at least, he shows at once that he compares them to these
species merely from memory; for I have compared the birds
themselves, and find they differ widely in every circumstance
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 nondescript or
not, he will have the credit of first discovering 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 Linneus.
These few remarks are the result of my first perusal of
Scopoli’s Annus Primus.

The bane of our science is the comparing one animal to
the other by memory. For want of caution in this parti-
cular, Scopoli falls into errors. He is not so full with regard
to the manners of his indigenous birds as might be wished,
as you justly observe: his Isatin is easy, elegant, and
expressive, and very superior to Kramer’s.*

LETTER XL.

TO THE SAME.
SELBORNE, Nov. 26, 1770.

Dear S1r,—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

* See his Hlenchus Vegetabiliwm et Animalium per Austriam Inferiorem,
&c..—* Summary of Vegetables and Animals in Lower Austria.”

STONE CURLEW. 129

autumn, seeming to advance in pairs towards 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 the
take their departure each way towards Europe or Africa. Tt
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 Europe ;—it is a
presumptive proof of their emigrations.

Scopoli seems to me to have found the hirundo melba (the
great Gibraltar swift) in Tyrol, without knowing it. For
what is the hirundo alpina, but the aforementioned bird in
other words? Says he, “ Omnia prioris (meaning the swift)
sed pectus album; paulo major priore.” “ All the marks of
the former but the white breast; a little larger than the
former.” I do not suppose this to be a new species. It is
true also of the melba, that “nidificat in excelsis Alpium
rupibus,’—It builds its nest in the lofty cliffs of the Alps.
Vid. Annum ‘Primum.

My Sussex friend, a man of observation and good sense,
but no naturalist, to whom I applied on account of the stone
curlew (oedicnemus), sends me the following account :—*“ In
looking over my Naturalist’s Journal for the month of April,
I find the stone curlews are first mentioned on the 17th and
18th, which date seems 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 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
resemble their young in colour, among which they skulk and
conceal themselves. 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

K

130 CHAFFINCHES.

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 something
very analogous to the bustard, whom it also somewhat
resembles in aspect and make, and in the structure of its feet.

For a long 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 8rd
of September.

‘When the oedienemus flies, it stretches out its legs straight
behind, like a heron.

LETTER XLI.

TO THE HON. DAINES BARRINGTON.
Sevsorne, Dec. 20, 1770.

Dear Srr,—The birds that I tcok for aberdavines were
reed-sparrows (passeres torquatt).

There are, doubtless, many home internal migrations within
this kingdom that want to be better understood; witness
those vast flocks of hen chaffinches that appear with us in
the winter without hardly any cocks among them. Now,
were there a due proportion of each sex, it would seem very
improbable that any one district should produce such num-
bers of these little birds, and much more when only one half
of the species appears ; therefore we may conclude that the
Sringille celebes, for some good purposes, have a peculiar
migration of their own, in which the sexes part. Nor should
it seem so wonderful that the imtercourse 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 separately, except at the season when commerce is
necessary for the continuance of the breed. For this matter
of the chaffinches, see Fauna Suecica, p. 85, and Systema

bs.)

(Fringilla ceele

NCH.

THE CHAFFI

CHAFFINCHES. | 131

Nature, p. 318. I see every winter vast flights of hen
chaffinches, but none of cocks.*

Your method of accounting for the periodical motions of

* Amongst our vernal birds of passage, the cock birds generally arrive
about a fortnight before the hens, a circumstance well known to the bird-
catchers, who are certain that all which are caught out of the first flight will
prove males. The cock nightingales generally appear in the neighbourhood of
London on the 12th of April. They are sometimes taken a few days earlier,
but that is the day upon which those who make a trade of catching them
depend upon their arrival.

It is very difficult to understand the reason of this precession of the males.
It has been supposed by some writers, that the females were delayed by the
care of a young brood; but it seems to me nearly certain that our summer
birds do not breed again when they visit Africa during our winter months.
Those who have been accustomed to keep nightingales in confinement know,
that one which has been taken from the nest before it could fly, and reared in
a cage, will never sing the true song of its species, unless it have the advantage
of hearing an old nightingale sing throughout the autump and winter; that a
young nightingale caught in the summer after the old birds have begun to
moult and ceased singing, will sing rather more correctly than that which was
taken from the nest, because it has had the advantage of hearing the notes of
its parent longer; but that, without further education under an old male in
autumn and winter, it will only be able to execute parts of the nightingale’s
beautiful melody, and will repeat too often some of the loud notes, and harp
upon them in a manner that is quite disagreeable. These two classes of young
birds seldom become good songsters in confinement ; because, unless a consider-
able number of old nightingales are kept in’ the same room with them, they
have not the same opportunity of hearing and learning that they would have
had in the woods ; and if any other birds are kept within hearing, they will
imitate their notes, and retain the habit of singing them. The old nightingales
cease to sing in England for the most part towards the end of June, and after
that time the young ones can have no farther opportunity of learning their
song while they remain in Europe; they merely record, or practise in the
throat, what they can recollect.

I may take this opportunity of making some further remarks on the acquisi-
tion of song or peculiar notes by young birds. The nightingale, which far
surpasses all other birds in the natural modulation and variety of its notes, and
cannot be equalled by any in execution, even if they have learned its song, is
peculiarly apt in its first year, when confined, to learn the song of any other
bird that it hears. Its beautiful song is the result of long attention to the
melody of the older birds of its species. The young whinchat, wheatear, and
others of the genus Sawicola, which have little natural variety of song, are no
less ready in confinement to learn from other species, and become as much
better songsters as the nightingale degenerates, by borrowing from others.
The bullfinch, whose natural notes are weak, harsh, and insignificant, has a
greater facility than any other bird of learning human music. It is pretty
evidént that the Germans, who bring vast numbers of them to London which

K2

132 CHAFFINCHES.

the British singing birds, or birds of flight, 1s a very probable
one, since the matter of food is a great regulator of the
actions and proceedings of the brute creation: there is but
one that can be set in competition with it, and that is love.
But I cannot quite acquiesce with you in one circumstance,

they have taught to pipe, must have instructed them more by whistling to
them, than by an organ ; and that their instructions have been accompanied by
a motion of the head and body in accordance with the time: which habit the
Dirds also acquire, and is no doubt of great use to them in regulating their
song. The canary-bird, whose song, in its artificial state in Europe, is a
compound of notes acquired from other birds, is able to learn the song
of the nightingale, but not to execute it with the same power as the nightingale
itself. I have never heard one that sang it quite correctly, but I have
heard it approach quite enough to prove that with more careful education
it might learn it right. Those who have taken the most pains about it
have been contented with placing, under nightingales, young canaries, as
soon as they could feed themselves; but such will necessarily have learned
part at least of their parents’ song. The linnet and linnet mule is said
to be able to come nearer the execution of the nightingale, when properly
instructed. The best way would be to use au experienced hen canary-bird
who will rear her young without the cock, and to take the cock away before
the young are hatched: or to set the canary-eggs under a hen paired with 2
goldfinch, which, kept in a darkish situation, will probably not sing; to remove
the cock, at all events, if it sings, as soon as possible ; to place the young birds
very close to the singing nightingale, and as soon as practicable to remove the
hen canary also. The rearing of a canary-bird by hand, even from the egg, has
been accomplished by artificial heat and unremitting care. Birds learn the
song of others most readily when they are not in song themselves, and when
they are darkened and covered, so that their attention is not distracted; for
birds are amused by what they sce as much as we are, when not alarmed by it.
I had once a tame whitethroat which, when let out of its cage, appeared to take
the greatest pleasure in minutely examining the.figured patterns of the chair-
covers, perhaps expecting to find something eatable amongst the leaves and
branches of the pattern. I reared a blackcap and some whitcthroats, taken
when «a fortnight old, under u singing nightingale, and removed all other
singing birds: they did not, however, learn a single note from the nightingale,
but sang their wild note pretty truly; on the other hand, a blackcap two years
old, from hearing a nightingale sing a great deal, acquired two passages from
its song and executed them correctly, though not very powerfully. I under-
stand that the robin reared in a cage is not observed to learn from other birds,
but sings the wild note pretty accurately. I can at present suggest no key to
these diversities; nor do I understand why the young nightingale, taken when
the old birds cease to sing, will in confinement learn the note of other birds
and retain them, although it may hear its own species sing again as soon as they
recommence in the autumn; and yet, at liberty, with the same cessation of the
parental song, it would have learned nothing else; unless it be that from want
of other amusement it listens more when it is confined W. H.

WOODCOCKS—FIELDFARES. 133

when 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 induce-
ment to go in quest of fresh-turned earth.” Now, if you
mean that the business of congregating is quite at an end
irom the conclusion of wheat-sowing, to the season of barley
and oats, it is not the case with us; for larks and chafiinches,
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.

Sure there can be no doubt but that woodcocks and field-
fares leave us in the spring, in order to cross the seas, and
to retire to some districts more suitable to the purpose of
breeding. That the former pair before they retire, and that
the hens are forward with egg, IT myself, when I was a
sportsman, have often experienced. It cannot be denied
but that now and then we hear of a woodcock’s nest,* or
young birds, discovered in some part or other of this island;
but then they are always mentioned as rarities, and some-
what out of the common course of things ; but as to redwings
and fieldfares, no sportsman or naturalist has ever yet, that
I could hear, pretended to have 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 maintains their congeners,
the blackbirds and thrushes, did they choose to stay the
summer through. From hence it appears, that it is not
food alone which determines some species of birds with
regard to their stay or departure. 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 con-
tinued 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 lingering about till the beginning
ot June.

* Woodcocks breed much more frequently in this country than is generally
supposed. Several nests are annually found in Sir Charles Taylor’s woods, at
Hollycombe, in Sussex, and in various parts in England aad Scotland.—Eb.

134 MIGRATION.

The best authority that we can have for the nidification of
the birds above mentioned, in any district, is the testimony
of faunists that have written professedly the natural history
of particular countries. Now, as to the fieldfare, Linneus,
in his Fauna Suecica, says of it, that “ maximis in arboribus
nidificat ;” “it builds m the largest trees.” And of the
redwing, he says in the same place, that “nidificat in mediis
arbusculis, sive sepibus : ova sex ceruleo-viridia maculis nigris
variis.” “It builds in the midst of shrubs or hedges; it
produces six eggs, of a sea-green colour, with varied black
spots.” Hence we may be assured that fieldfares and red-
wings breed in Sweden. Scopoli says, in his Annus Primus,
of the woodcock, that “nuwpta ad nos venit circa equinoctium
vernale :’? “when mated, it comes to us about the vernal
equinox ;”” meaning in Tyrol, of which he is a native. And
afterwards he adds, “nidificat in paludibus alpinis: ova
ponit 3—5.” “Tt builds its nest mm the Alpine marshes,
and lays from three to five eggs.’’ It does not appear from
Kramer that woodcocks breed at all in Austria; but he says,
“ Avis hee septentrionalium provinciarwm estivo tempore
incola est ; ub plerwmque nidificat. Appropinquante hyeme
australiores provincias petit: hine circa plenilunium potissi-
mum mensis Octobris plerumque Austriam transmigrat. Tunc
rursus circa plenilunium potissimum mensis Marti per Aus-
triam matrimonio juncta ad septentrionales provincias redit.”
“This bird, in summer, inhabits the northern provinces,
where it generally nests. On the approach of winter it
seeks more southern provinces; it usually leaves this at
the October full-moon, generally in the direction of
Austria. Then it returns back, after mating, generally
about the March full-moon.’’ For the whole passage
(which I have abridged), see Hlenchus, &ec., p. 851. This
seems to be a full proof of the emigration of woodcocks ;
though little is proved concerning the place of their
breeding.*

P.S.—tThere 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

* Woodcocks arrive in Silesia about the latter end of April, or beginning of
May, and leave it again in October.—W. J.

MIGRATION. 185

these thirty years past, in that part of the world. A mean
quantity in that county for one year is twenty inches and a

LETTER XLII.

TO THE SAME.

FyFIELp, near ANDOVER, Feb. 12, 1771.
Dezar Srr,—You are, I know, no great friend to migra-
tion; 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 season.
And these vast migrations consist not only of hirundines,
but of bee-birds, hoopoes, oro pendolos, or golden thrushes,
&c., &e., and also of many of our soft-billed summer birds of
passage; and moreover, of birds which never leave ns, such
as all the various sorts of hawks and kites. Old Belon,
two hundred years ago, gives a curious account of the incre-
dible armies of hawks and kites which he saw in the spring
time traversing the Thracian Bosphorus, from Asia to
Europe. Besides the above mentioned, he remarks that
the procession is swelled by whole troops of eagles and
vultures.

* Sce preceding note on this subject, page 39 of this edition.— Ep.

186 MIGRATION.

Now, it is no wonder that birds residing in Africa should
retreat before the sun as it advances, and retire to milder
regions, and especially birds of prey, whose blood being
heated with hot animal food, are more impatient of a sultry
climate; bnt then I cannot 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 may be laid on
the difficulty and hazard that birds must run in their migra-
tions, by reason of vast oceans, cross winds, &c.; because, if
we reflect, a bird may travel from England to the Equator
without launching out and exposing itself to boundless seas,
and that by crossing the water at Dover, and again at
Gibraltar. And I with the more confidence advance this
obvious remark, 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 Mediterranean ;
for when arrived at Gibraltar, they do not,

“ 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 ;” Mitton.

but scout and hurry along in little detached parties of six or
seven in a company; and, sweeping low, just over the sur-
face of the land and water, direct their course to the opposite
continent at the narrowest 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, considerable 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 people were shooting in the parish of

MIGRATION. 137

Trotten, in the county of Sussex, they killed a duck in that
dreadful winter, 1708-9, with a silver collar about its neck,**
on which were engraven the arms of the King of Denmark.
This anecdote the rector of Trotten 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 any body near the sea-side
that will take the trouble to remark at what time of the
moon woodecocks 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 woodcocks 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 presume to say.

Nightingales not only never reach Northumberland and
Scotland, but also, as I have been always told, Devonshire
and Cornwall.+ In those two last counties, we cannot attri-
bute 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

* J have read a like anecdote of a swan.

+ In a western direction the nightingale visits Dorsetshire and the eastern
part only of Devonshire; is never heard in Cornwall; visits Somersetshire,
and goes northward on the western side of England as high as Carlisle. On
the eastern side it is never heard beyond the city of York, yet visits much
higher latitudes on the European continent. Linnaeus includes it in his
Fauna Succica. Great pains were taken by (I think) Sir John Sinclair to
establish the nightingale in Scotland, but without success. An old notion
referred to by Montagu, that.the nightingale possibly might not be found in
any part but where cowslips grow plentifully, seems incorrect: cowslips grow
iu great luxuriance in Glamorganshire, and also north of Carlisle. A gentle-
swan of Gower, which is the peninsula beyond Swansea, procured from Norfolk
and Surrey, a few years back, some scores of young nightingales, hoping that
an acquaintance with his beautiful woods and their mild climate would induce
asecond visit; but the law of Nature was too strong for him, and nota
single bird returned.. Dyer, in his Grongar Hill, makes the nightingale the
companion of his muse in the vale of Towey or Carmarthen, but this is a
poetical licence, as this bird is not heard there.—W. Y.

138 MIGRATION.

do not dust. I think they do; and if they do, whether they
wash also.*

The alauda pratensis of Ray was the poor dupe that was
educating the booby of a cuckoo mentioned in my letter of
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. I am 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 migra-
tion; for, as they fare in the winter like their congeners, so
might they, in all appearance, in the summer.t 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 wood-pigeon, enas Raii, 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 them were seen morning and evening that reached
a rile or more; but since the beechen woods have been
greatly thinned, they have much decreased in number. The
ring-dove, palwmbus Raii, 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 unusually green.
This uncommon verdure lasted on late into November, and
may be accounted for from a late spring, a cool and moist

* Larks certainly dust, and, in a cage, wash themselves, but I am not
aware that they do the latter when in a wild state—Ep.

+ Letter xxxvm. to the Hon. Daines Barrington.

t The Royston crow breeds, and is stationary, on all the west coast of
Scotland ; and it is probable that most of those which visit England during
winter, arrive from Sweden and Norway, or the countries adjacent,—few, if
any, of the Scotch individuals leaving their regular abodes.—W. J.

§ Here, as in a previous passage, Mr. White has spoken of the wood-pigeon
as synonimous with the stock-dove. It is more usual to apply that name to
the ring-dove. Perhaps, with the view of avoiding confusion, it would be
better that the use of the name wood-pigeon should be altogether abandoned.
—Ma. Bennett.

HARVEST BUG—TURNIP FLY. 1389

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 mid-
summer, and then retained their foliage till very late in
the year.

My musical friend, at whose house J am now visiting, has
tried all the owls that are his near neighbours, with a pitch-
pipe set at concert pitch, and finds they all hoot in B flat.
He will examine the nightingales next spring.

LETTER XLII.

TO THOMAS: PENNANT, ESQ.

Seizorne, March 30, 1771.
Dear Srr,—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 an
harvest bug) is very minute, scarce discernible to the naked
eye, of a bright scarlet colour, and of the genus of acarus.*
They are to be met with in gardens, on kidney beans, or any
legumens, but prevail only in the hot months of summer.
‘Warreners, as some have assured me, are much infested by
them on chalky downs, where these insects swarm sometimes
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, 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

* Most probably acarus autumnalis. It buries itself at the roots of the
hairs on the extremities, producing intolerable itching, attended by
inflammation and considerable tumours, and sometimes even occasioning
fevers —W. J. .

140 NOXIOUS INSECTS.

the gammons and best part of the hogs, eat down to the
bone, and make great waste. This fly I suspect to be a
variety of the musca putris of Linneus. It is to be seen in
the summer in farm kitchens, on the bacon-racks, and about
the mantel-pieces and on the ceilings.

The insect that infests turnips, and many crops in the
garden, (destroying often whole fields, while in their seed-
ling leaves,) ig 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 coleoptera, the
“chrysomela oleracea, saltatoria, femoribus posticis erassissi-
nis,’ *—*The cabbage chrysomela, moving by a leap, with
very thick hind-legs.”” In very hot summers they abound to
an amazing degree, and, as you walk in a field, or ina garden,
make a pattering like rain, by jumping on the leaves of the
turnips or cabbages.

There is an oestrus, known in these parts to every plough-
boy, which, because it is omitted by Linneus, is also passed
over by late writers; and that is the curvicauda of old
Mouffet, mentioned by Derham in his Physico-Lheology,
p. 250: an insect worthy of remark, for depositing its eggs,
as it flies, in so dexterous a manner on the single hairs of
the legs and flanks of grass-horses. But then, Derham is
mistaken when he advances that this oestrus 1s the parent of

* This is most probably the haltica nemorum, called by the farmers the Fly
and Black Jack, so well described by Messrs. Kirby and Spence, in their
admirable chapters on indirect injurics. It attacks and devours the first
cotyledon leaves, as soon as they are unfulded; so that, on account of their
ravages, the laud is often obliged to be resown, and with no better success.
By these entomologists it is stated, on the authority of an eminent agriculturist,
that, from this cause alone, the loss sustained in the turnip crops in Devon-
shire, in 1786, was not less than 100,0002. Great damage is also sometimes
done by the little curculio contractus, which, in the same manner, pierces a
hole in the cuticle. When the plant is more advanced, and out of danger
from these pigmy focs, the black larva of a saw-fly takes their place, and
occasionally does no little mischief, whole districts being sometimes stripped
by them, and, in 1783, many thousand acres were on this account ploughed
up. The caterpillar of papilio brassica is sometimes found in great numbers,
and the wire-worm also does occasionally great damage, both to turnips and
other vegetable and flower-roots. Mr. Kirby mentions a field in which one-
fourth was destroyed, and which the owner calculated at 1002. One year,
the same person sowed a field three times with turnips, which were twice
wholly, and the third time a great part, cut off by this insect.—W. J.

Tur Peacock. (Lavo cristatus.)

PEACOCKS. 141

that wonderful star-tailed maggot which he mentions after-
wards; for more modern entomologists have discovered that
singular production to be derived from the egg of the museca
chameleon. See Geoffroy, t. 17, f. 4.

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 allowed by the public
to be a most useful and important work. What knowledge
there is of this sort lies scattered, and wants to be collected :
great improvements would soon follow of course. A lnow-
ledge 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 preventing their
depredations. ,

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

LETTER XLIV.

TO THE SAME.

SELBorRNE, 1770.
Dzar Srr,—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 uropygium, but
all up their backs. A range of short, brown, stiff feathers,
about six inches long, fixed in the wropygium, is the real tail,
and serves as the fulerwm to prop the train, which is long
and top-heavy, when set on end. When the train is up,
nothing appears of the bird before but its head and neck;
but this would not be the case, were these long feathers
fixed only in the rump, as may be seen by the turkey cock,
when in a strutting attitude. By a strong muscular vibra-

142 NOTES OF OWLS AND OUCKOOS.

tion, 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 caleulus
@gogropila, 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.

LETTER XLV.

TO THE HON. DAINES BARRINGTON.

Sexporne, Aug. 1, 1771.
Dear Srz,—From what follows, it will appear that neither
owls nor cuckoos keep to one note. A 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 tuning of harpsichords; it was the common London

itch.

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 hooting to each other, the one in A flat, and
the other in B flat. Query: Do these different notes pro-
ceed 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, and
the other in D sharp, which made a disagreeable concert ;
he afterwards heard one in D sharp, and about Wolmer
Forest, some in C. As to nightingales, he says, that their
notes are so short, and their transitions so rapid, that he
cannot well ascertain their key. Perhaps 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

MIGRATION, 143

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
wonder at all that they retreat from Scandinavian winters ;
and much more the ordo of gralle, who all, to a bird, forsake
the northern parts of Europe at the approach of winter.
“Gralle tanquam conjurate unanimiter m fugam se conjt-
ciunt ; ne earum unicam quidem inter nos habitantem tinvenire
possimus ; ut enim estate in australibus degere nequeunt ob
defectum lumbricorum, terramque siccam; tta nec in frigidis
ob eandem causam,” “The gralle, as if by agreement, take
flight, nor can we find one residing here; for as, during
summer, the deficiency of earth-worms and the hardness of
the ground prevents them from abiding in hot countries; so
neither can they dwell in cold climes, for the same reason,”
says Ekmarck, the Swede, in his ingenious little treatise
called Migrationes Avium, which, by all means, you ought to
read, while your thoughts run on the subject of migration.—
See Amenitates Academica, vol. iv. p. 565.

Birds may be so cireumstanced as to be obliged to migrate
in one country, and not in another; but the gralle (which
procure their food from marshes and bogey ground,) must,
im winter, forsake the more northerly parts of Europe, or
perish for want of food.

Tam glad you are making inquiries from Linneus con-
cerning 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 synonymes: 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 systematists are, I observe, much too vague in
their specific differences; which are almost universally con-
stituted by one or two particular marks, the rest of the
description running in general terms. But our countryman,
the excellent Mr. Ray, is the only describer that conveys

144 WOODCOCKS.—BATS.

some precise idea in every term or word, maintaining his
superiority over his followers and imitators, in spite of the
advantage of fresh discoveries and modern information.

At this distance of years, it is not in my power to recol-
lect at what periods woodcocks used to be sluggish 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.

LETTER XLVI.

TO THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.
September, 1771.
Dear Str,—The summer through, I have seen but two of
that large species of bat which I call vespertilio altivolans,
from its manner of feeding high in the air. I procured
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 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 species, one of which may supply many females, as is
known to be the case in sheep, and some other quadru-
peds. But this doubt can only be cleared by a farther
examination, and some attention to the sex, of more speci-
mens. All that I know at present is, that my two were
amply furnished with the parts of generation, much resem-
bling those of a boar.
In the extent of their wings, they measured fourteen
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

FERN OWL. 145

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 covered 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
send forth a very rancid and offensive smell.

LETTER XLVII.

TO THE SAME.
Srvporne, 1771.

Dear Sir,—On the twelfth of July, I had a fair opportu-
nity of contemplating the motions of the caprimulgus, or
fern-owl, as it was playing round a large oak that swarmed
with scarabei solstitiales, 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 dis-
tinctly more than once put out its short leg when on the
wing, and, by a bend of the head, deliver somewhat into its
mouth.t+ If it takes any part of its prey with its foot, as I

* Several species of phalena live upon the oak; but one, the phalena
viridana of Donovan’s British Insects, and which also appears to have been
known to Mr. White, does considerable damage among the young oak copses
in Scotland, while in the larva state. In the summer of 1828, and again in
that of 1829, I met with this species in immense profusion about Inverary,
and near Loch Katrine, where many hundred acres of oak copse appeared us
in early spring, with the leaves much destroyed by this insect. This must
undoubtedly check the growth, and, of course, when so extensively dispersed,
be of some consequence to the proprietor. Though White describes it as
phalena quercus, it is undoubtedly this species which he means.— W. J.

t Titmice do the same. I have frequently observed them to catch bees
with their feet.—Ep.

L

146 MIGRATION,

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 serrated claw.

Swallows and martins, the bulk of them, I mean, have for-
saken us sooner this year than usual; for, on September the
22nd, they rendezvoused in a neighbour’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 rose
all together in infinite numbers, occasioning such a rushing
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.

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

On September the 24th, 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!

LETTER XLVIII.

TO THE HON. DAINES BARRINGTON.

Setporne, February 8, 1772.
Dear Srir,—When I ride about in winter, and see such
prodigious flocks of various kinds of birds,t I cannot help
admiring at these congregations, and wishing that it was in
my power to account for those appearances, almost peculiar

* See Letter xcv11. to the Hon. Daines Barrington.

++ Mr. Bennett seems to think that the flocking of birds in winter is
occasioned by hunger. Starlings, finches, linnets, and other birds, however,
flock early in the autumn when food is plentiful. I have always thought,
however, that birds flock by a benevolent arrangement of Providence, for self-
preservation. Whenever they are gregarious, they are much more easily
alarmed than when there are only a few together. Thus it is well known to
sportsmen that when partridges and grouse assemble in large packs, it is very
difficult to get within shot of them. Besides many gregarious birds, such as
rooks, wood-pigeons, &c., plant sentinels on w tree who give an alarm when
danger is apprehended. Large flocks of wild geese and ducks are generally
very wild.—Ep.

CONGREGATING OF BIRDS. 147

to the season. The two great motives 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, during the amorous season, such a
jealousy prevails between 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 at that time seem to me to be
the effect of rivalry and emulation; and it is to this spirit of
jealousy that I chiefly attribute the equal dispersion of birds.
in the spring over the face of the country.

Now as to the business of food. As these animals are
actuated by instinct to hunt for necessary food, they should
not, one would suppose, crowd together in pursuit of sus-
tenance, 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 ; as men crowd together, when under great
calamities, though they know not why? Perhaps approxi-
mation may dispel some degree of cold: and a crowd may
make each individual appear safer from the ravages of birds
of prey, and other dangers.

If I admire when I see how much congenerous birds love
to congregate, I am the more struck when I see incongruous
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 discerning scent than their attendants, and can lead
them to spots more productive of food? Anatomists say
that rooks, by reason of two large nerves which run down

* Mr. White says it is strange that rooks and starlings accompany each
pther, but this is the case with other birds. The short-eared owl often
accompanies flights of woodcocks in this country. In Greece, the cuckoo
migrates with the turtle-flocks; thence they are called trigonokracti, or
turtle-leader.—Rev. J. Mirror. ;

L

148 SWALLOWS.

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 associates attend them on the motive of interest,
as greyhounds wait on the motions of their finders, and as
lions are said to do on the yelpings of jackals. Lapwings
and starlings sometimes associate.

LETTER XLIX.

TO THE SAME.
March 9, 1772.
Dear Sir,—As a gentleman and myself were walking, on
the 4th of last November, round the sea-banks at Newhaven,
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
accounts which I meet with, I am more and more induced 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 to their latebre, or lurking-places. Nor
make I the least doubt but that, if I lived at Newhaven,
Seaford, Brighthelmstone,* or any of those towns near the
chalk cliffs of the Sussex coast, by proper observations, I
should 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 opinion, from what
I have remarked during some of our late springs, and though
some swallows did make their appearance about the usual

* Much as I have resided in Brighton, and many as my inquiries have been,
I have never heard of or scen swallows at any unusual periods in that neigh-
bourhood.—-Ep,

TORTOISE, 149

time, viz., the 13th or 14th of April, yet, meeting with an
harsh reception, and blustermg cold north-east winds, they
immediately withdrew, absconding for several days till the
weather gave them better encouragement.

LETTER L.

TO THE SAME.
April 12, 1772.
Dear Srr,—While I was in Sussex last autumn, my resi-
dence was at the village near Lewes, from whence I had
formerly the pleasure of writing to you. On the Ist of
November, I remarked that the old tortoise, formerly men-
tioned, began first to dig the ground, in order to the forming
of its hybernaculum, which it had fixed on just beside a great
turf 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 crea-
ture, 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 inter-
rupted, and called forth by the heat, in the middle of the
day ; and though I continued there till the 13th of November,
yet the work remained unfinished. Harsher weather and
frosty mornings would have quickened its operations. 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

* The motion of the tortoisc’s legs being, as Mr. White remarks, “ridiculously
slow,” is taken notice of in Homer’s Hymn to Hermes—
“ Feeding far from man, the flowery herb,
Slow moving with his feet.”—-Rev. J. Mirrorp.

‘150 TORTOISE.

rain asa 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 animal, 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 eating as well as breathing for a great part ofthe 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 discernin
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 awk-
ward alacrity, but remains inattentive to strangers. Thus
not only “the ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master’s
crib,”’* 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.

* Jsaiah i. 3.

+ Tortoises are often kept in gardens as a curiosity, where they continue
perfectly healthy, and arrive at an almost incredible age. When kept in the
stove or green-house, their torpidity does not take place, although at the annual
period for its occurrence, they are generally noticed for a short time to be more
restless and irritable. The following are some remarkable instances of
longevity recorded by Mr. Murray, in his Experimental Researches :—In
the library of Lambeth Palace is the shell of a land tortoise, brought there
about the year 1623 ; it lived to 1730, a period of 107 years. Another was
placed in the garden of the episcopal palace of Fulham, by Bishop Laud, in
1625, and died in 1753—128 years: the age at which these were placed in
the gardens was, of course, unknown. Another is mentioned 220 years, and
ene in Exeter ’Change, 800: the latter, however does not seem well authen-
ticated, though there can be no doubt of the period of their existence being
very extensive. Mr. Murray has added some very interesting information
regarding the habits of a tortoise kept at Peterborough :—

“ Fron) a document belonging to the archives of the cathedral, called the
Bishop's Barn, it is well ascertained that the tortoise at Peterborough must
have been about 220 years old. Bishop Marsh’s predecessor in the see of
Peterborough had remembered it above sixty years, and could recognise no
visible change. He was the seventh bishop who had worn the mitre during

TORTOISE. 151

LETTER LI.

TO THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.
Serzorne, March 15, 1773.

Dear S1z,—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 1st of October 1 saw young martins in

its sojourn there. If I mistake not, its sustenance and abode were provided
for in this document. Its shell was perforated, in order to attach it to a tree,
&c., to limit its ravages among the strawberry borders, :

“The animal had its antipathies and predilections. It would eat endive,
green peas, and even the leek ; while it positively rejected asparagus, parsley,
and spinage. In the early part of the season, its favourite pabulum was the
flowers of the dandelion (Jeontodon taraxacwm), of which it would devour
twenty at a meal; and lettuce (Jactuca sativa) ; of the latter a good sized
one at a time; but, if placed between lettuce and the flowers of the dandelion,
it would forsake the former for the latter. It was also partial to the pulp of
an orange, which it sucked greedily.

“ About the latter end of June (discerning the times and the seasons), it
looked out for fruit, when its former choice was forsaken. It ate currants,
raspberries, pears, apples, peaches, nectarines, &c., the riper the better ; but
would not taste cherries. Of fruits, however, the strawberry and gooseberry
were the most esteemed; it made great havoc among the strawberry borders,
and would take a pint of gooseberries at intervals. The gardener told me it
knew him well, the hand that generally fed it, and would watch him atten-
tively at the gooseberry bush, where it was sure to take its station while he
plucked the fruit.

“T could not get it to take the root of the dandelion, nor indeed any root
I offered it, as that of the carrot, turnip, &c. All animal food was discarded,
nor would it take any liquid, at least, neither milk nor water ; and when a
leaf was moist, it would shake it, to expel the adhering wet.

“This animal moved with apparent ease, though pressed by a weight of
18 stones; itself weighed 134]bs. In cloudy weather, it would scoop out a
cavity, generally in a southern exposure, where it reposcd, torpid and inactive,
until the genial influence of the sun roused it from its slumber. When in
this state, the eyes were closed and the head and neck a little contracted,
though not drawn within the shell. Its sense of smelling was so acute, that
it was roused from its lethargy if any person approached even at a distance of
twelve feet.

“ About the beginning of October, or the latter‘end of September, it began
to immure itself, and had, for that purpose, for many years selected an angle

152 MARTINS.—RING-OUSELS.

their nests, 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 November the 8rd;
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 nest-
lings twelve days ago, shift their quarters at this late season
of the year to the other side of the northern tropic? Or
rather, is it not more probable that the next church, ruin,
chalk-cliff, steep covert, or perhaps sand-bank, lake, or pool,
(as a more northern naturalist would say,) 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 migrations 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 Ascen-
sion, and other desolate districts, birds are so little acquainted
with the human form, that they settle on men’s shoulders,
and have no more dread of a sailor than they 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

of the garden: it entered in an inclined plane, excavating the carth in the
manner of the mole; the depth to which it penetrated varied with the
character of the approaching season, being from one to two feet, according as
the winter was mild cr severe. It may be added, that, for nearly 2 month
prior to this entry into its dormitory, it refused all sustenance whatever. The
animal emerged about the end of April, and remained for at least a fortnight
before it ventured on taking any species of food. Its skin was not perceptibly
cold: its respiration, entirely effected through the nostrils, was languid. I
visited the animal, for the last time, on the 9th of June, 1813, during a
thunder storm: it then lay under the shelter of a cauliflower, and apparently
torpid.”’—Mourray’s Experimental Researches—W. J.

AFFECTIONS OF BIRDS. 153

so about that town in the autumn, that he killed sixteen
himself in one afternoon: he added farther, 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 the Sussex downs, wherever
there were shrubs and bushes, from Chichester to Lewes ;
particularly in the autumn of 1770.

LETTER LIT.

TO THE HON. DAINES BARRINGTON.

Setporne, March 26, 1773.
Dezar Sir,—The more I reflect on the oropy}, or natural
affection of anunals, the more I am astonished at its effects.
Nor is the violence of its affection more wonderful than the
shortness of its duration.* Thus every hen is in her turn
the virago of the yard, in proportion to the helplessness 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 inven-
tion, and sharpens the sagacity of the brute creation. Thus
an hen, just become a mother, is no longer that placid bird
she used to be; but, with feathers standing on end, wings
hovering, and clucking note, she runs about like one pos-.
sessed. Dams will throw themselves in the way of the
greatest danger in order to avert it from their progeny.
Thus a partridge will tumble along before a sportsman, in
order to draw away the dogs from her helpless covey. In
the time of nidification, the most feeble birds will assault the

® There are two well authenticated instances on record of bustards attack-
ing men on horseback at night, when their haunts have been invaded, and
probably in defence of their young. One instance is mentioned on his own
knowledge by Sir Richard Colt Hoare in his History of Wilts, and the other,
I think, by Mr. Gilpin —Eb.

154 AFFECTIONS OF BIRDS.

most rapacious. All the hirundines of a village are up in
arms at the sight of an 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 suffer 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 clefts of the rocks to chase away the
kestrel or the sparrow-hawk.* Ifyou stand near the nest of
a bird that has young, she will not be induced to betray
them by an inadvertent fondness, but will wait about at a
distance, with meat in her mouth, for an hour together.

Should I farther corroborate what I have advanced 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 fly-catcher of the Zoology (the stoparola of Ray) builds
every year in the vines that grow on the walls of my house.t
A pair of these little birds had one year inadvertently placed
their nest on a naked bough, perhaps in a shady time, not
being aware of the inconvenience that followed; but an hot
sunny season coming on before the brood was half fledged,
the reflection of 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 suffering offspring.t

* Many birds, when their nest has been discovered with their young in it,
will utter plaintive and distressed cries. I have known blackbirds fly at the
face of a person who has taken a young one out of their nest, and have seen a
cat assailed by them, and obliged to retreat from the neighbourhood of their
nest.—Ep.

+ Muscicapa grisola, Linn.—W. J.

t This is a charming instance of parental affection, but perhaps not so much
so as the following. During a wet day, a house swallow’s nest became saturated,
and fell to the ground. It contained five unfledged young ones, A lady,
who saw the accident, collected the brood, placed the lining of the nest in a
small basket, put the young ones in it, and deposited the basket inside the
window of her dressing-room. She soon had the pleasure of seeing the old
birds come and feed their offspring. One of them was so weak, that it did not
receive the same quantity of food as the others, and, consequently, when they

AFFECTIONS OF BIRDS. 155

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 hot-bed, 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 a large

were able to leave the nest, this helpless one remained, only half fledged, and
suffering from cold, when it had the whole nest to itself. There was at the
time a bitter north-east wind, which penetrated through the openings in the’
basket-work, and which, of course, added to the misery of the poor bird. All
at once the old ones were seen to come with clay in their mouths, and in a
short time they built up a wall against the basket, which effectually screened
the young one from the cold wind. It was reared, and took its flight.

I cannot resist giving another strong instance of parental affection in the
feathered tribe :—

A gentleman in my neighbourhood had directed one of his waggons to be
packed with sundry hampers and boxes, intending to send it to Worthing,
where he was going. For some time his journey was delayed, and he there-
fore directed that the waggon should be placed in a shed in his yard, packed as
it was, till it should be convenient for him to send it off. While it was in the
shed, a pair of robins built their nest among some straw in the waggon, and had
hatched their young just before it was sent away. One of the old birds, (the
female, most probably, for what will not a female do?) instead of being fright-
ened away by the motion of the waggon, only left its nest from time to time,
for the purpose of flying to the nearest hedge for food for its young ; and thus,
alternately affording food and warmth to them, it arrived at Worthing. The
affection of this bird having attracted the notice of the waggoner, he took care,
in unloading, not to disturb the robin’s nest; and my readers will, I am sure,
be glad to hear that the robin and its young ones returned in safety to Walton
Heath, being the place from whence they had set out. The distance the
waggon went, in going and returning, could not have been less than one
hundred miles.—Eb. (Gleanings).

* IT have known a fly-catcher, whose. nest I had discovered in a pear tree
against my garden wall, conceal it by drawing some of the leaves of the tree
over it.—Eb.

156 AFFECTIONS OF BIRDS.

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 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 mon-
strous perversion of the oropy7, which induces some females
of the brute creation 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 offspring, I am not so much
amazed; since reason perverted, 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.

* I have seen the same thing with our common bat. I once slept, during a
very stormy night, in 2 house of considerable age, and not in the best state of
repair. One of the windows in my bed-room had been built up, but so loosely,
that bats and swifts had free access between the wall and a large board that
was placed on the inside, to add to the warmth of the room. On the night
above mentioned, this board was blown down inwards, and the room immedi-
ately filled with bats and swifts. Many of the former had one or two young
adhering to their breasts, while flying round the room, and, even when knocked
down, were not freed from their burdens. Above sixty were caught in this
small space, and at least as many must have escaped. They appear to be on
terms of perfect amity with the swifts——W. J.

+ The pleasure which animals derive in having their milk drawn off by their
young, causes much of the tender attachment they have for them. Thus, a
tox which had lost its litter, stole a young puppy to suckle it; and many
similar instances might be brought forward. When animals, as is sometimes
but not often the case, have no milk after parturition, they frequently devour
their young.— Ep.

TEALS.—WHITE OWLS. 157

LETTER LIII.

TO THE SAME.

SeborneE, July 8, 1773.
Dzar Str,—Some young men went down lately to a pond
on the verge of Wolmer Forest to hunt flappers, or young
wild ducks, many of which they caught, and, among the rest,
some very minute yet well-fledged wild fowls alive, which,,
upon examination, I found to be teals. I did 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 unac-
ceptable. 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 inclosures for them,
which seem to be their only food. In this irregular country
we can stand on an eminence, and see them beat the fields
over like a setting-dog, and often drop 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 adroitness that every
animal is possessed of, as far as regards 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

* Colonel Montagu has observed (see Ornithological Dict., p. 35), that
the wren returns once in two minutes, or, upon an average, thirty-six times in
an hour; and this continued full sixteen hours in a day, which, if equally
divided between eight young ones, each would receive seventy-two feeds in the
day. To this may be added, that the swallow never fails to return to its nest
at the expiration of every second or third minute.—Rev. J. Mitrorp.

158 WHITE OWLS.

in silence. As they take their prey with their claws, so they
carry it in their claws to their nest; but, as the feet 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 positive) to
hoot at all;* all that clamorous hooting appears to me to
come from the wood kinds. The white owl does indeed snore
and hiss in a tremendous manner; and these menaces well
answer the intention of intimidating; for I have known a
whole village up in arms on such an occasion, imagining the
churchyard to be full of goblins and spectres. White owls
also often scream horribly as they fly along: from this
screaming, probably, arose the common people’s imaginary
species of screech-owl, which they superstitiously think
attends the windows 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. Perhaps it may be
necessary that the wings of these birds should not make
much resistance or rushing, that they may be able to steal
through the air unheard upon a nimble and watchful quarry.

While I am talking of owls, it may not be improper to
mention what I was told by a gentleman of the county of
Wilts. As they were grubbing a vast holiow pollard ash,
that had been the mansion of owls for centuries, he dis-
covered at the bottom a mass of matter that at first he could
not account for. After some examination, he found that it
was a 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 an
hen’s egg. Ihave known an owl of this species live a full
year without any water. Perhaps the case may be the same

* White owls do hoot—I have shot them in the act. They also hiss and
scream; but at night, when not alarmed, hooting is the general cry.—W. J.

Tne Syowy OWL,

INSECTS ON BIRDS. 159

with all birds of prey.* When owls fly, they stretch out
their legs behind them, as a balance to their large heavy
heads ; fcr, as most nocturnal birds have large eyes and ears,
they must have large heads to contain them. 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 hirundines are a most inoffensive, harmless, entertain-
ing, 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 agility: and clear our outlets from the
annoyances of gnats and other troublesome insects. Some
districts in the South Seas, near Guiaquil,t are desolated, it
seems, by the infinite swarms of venomous mosquitoes, which
fill the air, and render those coasts insupportable. It would
be worth inquiring, whether any species of hirundines is
found in these 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 swallow tribe.t

* All birds of prey are capable of sustaining the want of food and water for
long periods, particularly the latter, but of which.they also seem remarkably
fond, drinking frequently in u state of nature, and, during summer, washing
almost daily —W. J.

+ See Ulloa’s Travels.

{ This passage alone ought to be sufficient to prevent persons from wantonly
destroying this useful, engaging, aud elegant bird. If they were more encou-
raged than they are about hop-grounds,—suitable erections being made, against
which they would build,—the editor is convinced that much of the blight so
common on the bind of hops would be prevented. Mr. Knapp, in his Jowrnal
of a Naturalist, vemarked, that the immense quantity of flies destroyed in a
short space of time, by one individual bird, is scarcely to be credited by those
who have not actual experience of the fact. He adds, that he was once present
when a swift was shot. It was in the breeding season, when the young were
hatched, at which time the parent birds are in the habit of making little
excursions into the country, for the purpose of collecting flies, which they
bring to their infant progeny. He says, that on picking up the bird, he
observed a number of flies, some mutilated, others scarcely injured, crawling
out of the bird’s mouth. The throat and pouch seemed absolutely stuffed
with them, and an incredible number was at length disgorged. He thinks
that he is within compass in stating, that there was a mass of flies, just caught
by this single swift, larger than, when pressed close, would conveniently, be
contained in the bowl ofan ordinary table-spoon.—Eb.

160 MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.

Many species of birds have their peculiar lice: but the
hirundines 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 inju-
rious to them. These are the hippobosce hirundinis, with
narrow subulated wings, abounding in every nest; and are
hatched by the warmth of the bird’s own body during incu-
bation, 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 tickling
sensation ; while our own breed little regards them.

The curious Reaumur discovered the large eggs, or rather
pupe, of these flies, as big as the flies themselves, 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
pupe of these insects; but, for other particulars, too long for
this place, we refer the reader to L’ Histoire d’ Insectes of that
admirable entomologist —Tom. iv. pl. 11.

LETTER LIY.

TO THOMAS PENNANT, Esq.

SELBORNE, Nov. 9, 1773.

Dear Str,—As you desire me to send you such observations

as may occur, I take the liberty of making the following

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 Frinsham Pond,

a great lake, at about six miles from hence, while it was

* British Zoology, vol. i.p. 128. This beautiful bird, the Falco haliactus
of Pennant, has been frequently seen and destroyed in this country —Ep.

Tue Osprey, on Fisuing Hawk. (falco, or Pandion Talivtus.)

MISCELLANEOUS ORSERVATIONS. 161

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.

A great ash-coloured * butcher-bird was shot last winter
in Tisted Park, and a red-backed butcher-bird at Selborne.
They are scarce birds in this country.

Crows+ go in pairs the whole year round.

Cornish choughs} abound, and breed on Beechy Head,
and on all the cliffs of the Sussex coast.§

The common wild pigeon,|| or stock-dove, is a bird of pass-
age in the south of England, seldom appearing till towards
the end of November,—is usually the latest winter bird of
passage. Before our beechen woods were so much 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 blow-
ing, 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-
ouselst} on Dartmoor; they build in banks on the sides of
streams.

Titlarks tt 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.§§

Adamson’s|||| testimony seems to me to be avery poor evi-
dence that European swallows migrate{] during our winter

* British Zoology, p. 161. + Ibid. p. 167. t Ibid. p. 198.

§ Cornish choughs abound in the Isle of Man, and breed there. They are
also found on the Galloway and Kirkcudbright coasts.—W. J.

|| British Zoology, vol. i. p. 216. G Lbid. vol. i. p. 224.

** In Staffordshire it is called the thrice cock; but for what reason I know
not.—Ep.

+t British Zoology, p. 229. tf Ibid. vol. ii. p. 237.

§§ Mr. White must have mistaken this for anthusarboreus, or tree-lark.
The titlark (anthus pratensis) seldom sits on trees.— W. J.

Ill British Zoology, vol. ii. p. 242.

4] I have reason to believe that there is no portion of the world in which
swallows congregate at certain seasons, from which they do not periodically
migrate.—Ep.

M

162 MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.

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
he known European swallows, would he not have mentioned

the species P
The house-swallow washes by dropping into the water as

it flies ;* this species appears commonly about a week before

een and about ten or twelve days before the
swift.

In 1772, there were young house-martins ¢ in their nest
till October the 28rd.

The swift ¢ appears about ten or twelve days later than the
house-swallow ; viz., about the 24th or 26th of April.

Whin-chats § and stone-chatters || stay with us the whole

ear.

- Some wheatears J continue with us the winter through.**
Wactails, all sorts, remain with us all the winter.tf
Bullfinches,t} when fed on hempseed, often become wholly

black.

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 a drumming (perhaps I should
have rather said a humming), I suspect we mean the same

* “The twittering swallow skims the dimpled lake.”
“ Aut arguta lacus circumvolitavit hirundo.”—Virert,

Few things please me more than watching the evolutions of swallows, as
they fly over, and occasionally dip on the smooth surface of a pool of
water.— Ep. .

+ British Zoology, vol ii. p. 224. £ Ibid. p. 245. .

§ Whin-chat (saxicola rubetra, Bechst.) certainly does migrate. Stone-
chat (saxicola rubicola, Bechst.) is a resident, but we receive an accession of
numbers yearly.—W. J.

|| British Zoology, vol. ii. pp. 270, 271. 9 Lbid. p. 269.

** The great body of wheatears migrate regularly ; and it is just possible
that a few pairs may remain during the winter, in the southern countries; but
I strongly suspect Mr. White, though quoting, must be wrong.—W. J.

+t Mr. White seems only to have known two species of wagtail, the pied
and grey. The yellow wagtail is a regular migrater, but is very local in its
distribution. Both the others partially migrate in Scotland. Flocks of the
first appear in spring, and a few pairs ouly remain during the winter.—W. J.

tr British Zuology, vol. ii. p. 300. .
§§ Ibid. p. 306. Il 2ocd. p. 358,

MISCELLANEOUS: OBSERVATIONS. 163

thing. However, while they are playing about on the wing,
they certainly make a loud piping with their mouths; but
whether that bleating or humming is ventriloquous, or pro-
ceeds from the motion of their wings, I cannot say; but this
I know, that, when this noise happens, the bird is always
descending, and his wings are violently agitated.

Soon after the lapwings* have done breeding, they con-
gregate, and leaving the moors and marshes, betake them-
selves to downs and sheep walks.

Two years ago f last spring, the little auk was found alive
and unhurt, but fluttering and unable to rise, in a lane a few
miles from Alresford, where there is a great lake; it was
kept a while, but died.

Isaw young teals{ taken alive in the ponds of Wolmer
Forest in the beginning of July last, along with flappers, or
young wild ducks.

Speaking of the swift,§ that page says, “its drink the
dew ;” whereas it should be, “it drinks on the wing;” for
all the swallow kind sip their water as they sweep over the
face of pools or rivers: like Virgil’s bees, they drink flying—
“ flumina summa libant,’’ “they sip the surface of the stream.”
In this method of drinking, perhaps this genus may be

eculiar.

Of the sedge-bird,|| be pleased to say, it sings most part
of the night; its notes are hurrying, but not unpleasing, and
imitative of several birds, as the sparrow, swallow, skylark.
When it happens to be silent in the night, by throwing a
stone 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.

* British Zoology, vol ii. p. 360. + Ibid. p. 409.

$ bid. p. 475. They breed amongst the ling of Woolmer Forest, and
on the extensive heaths near Lephook.—Eb.

§ Ibid. p. 15. || Ibid. p. 16.

‘J 1 have always found this to be the case on passing the willow aits on the

river Thames, in a boat in the evening. The least noise at that time will set
these birds singing.—En.

uZ

164 HOUSE-MARTINS.

LETTER LY.

TO THE HON. DAINES BARRINGTON.

Sexporne, Nov. 20, 1773.
Dear Srr,—In obedience to your injunctions, I sit down to
give you some account of the house-martin, or martlet; and,
if my monography of this little domestic and familiar bird
should happen to meet with your approbation, I may probably
soon extend my inquiries to the rest of the British hirwn-
dines,—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 hirwndines in general pay
no attention to the business of nidification, but play and
sport about, either to recruit from the fatigue of their jour-
ney, if they do migrate at all, or else that their blood may
recover its true tone and texture after it has been so long
benumbed by the severities of winter. About the middle of
May, if the ‘weather be fine, the martin begins to think in
earnest of providing a mansion for its family.* The crust or

* The following fact strongly illustrates the sense and reflection of a pair of
swallows, in the construction of their nests :—

The late Earl of Albemarle informed me that a pair of swallows built their
nest under the arch of a lime-kiln belonging to him, at its extreme point, and
from which three chimneys or flues branched off. At the time the nest was
constructing, the heat of the kiln was so great, that only keeping the hand
for a short time within the arch produced a painful sensation. In this spot,
however, the nest was nearly completed, when the heat caused it to crumble,
and fall to the ground. A second nest was built in the same spot, and after-
wards a third, both of which shared tue same fate. A fourth nest was then
built, which stood perfectly well, although the heat of the kiln had by no
means abated ; and in this nest the swallows hatched and brought up their
young. The following year, another nest was begun and finished in the same
spot, and with the same heat in the kiln, which stood the influence of the fire,
and in which the swallows hatched and reared their brood; and this was done
in the same manner on the third year. The fourth year the swallows did not
appear, which the lime-burner considered as very ominous of the future success
of the kiln, The birds had probably been killed. The lime-kiln was on

HOUSE-MARTINS. 165

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 perpen-
dicular wall, without any projecting ledge under it, it requires
its utmost efforts to get the first foundation firmly fixed, so
that it may safely carry the superstructure. On this occasion
the bird not only 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 plasters 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 provident 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
sufficient layer for a day. Thus, careful workmen, when
they build mud-walls (informed at first, perhaps, by these
little birds), raise but a moderate layer at a time, and then
desist, lest the work should become top-heavy, and so be

Lord Albemarle’s estate, and he was in the constant habit of visiting it, and
took much interest in the proceedings of the swallows. In reading the above
account, which has been given in Lord Albemarle’s words, it is almost impos-
sible not to be struck with the fullowing facts :—

Ist, That the swallows must have discovered and worked up a sort of clay
or earth which would stand heat.

2nd, It is, I think, clear, that instinct alone would not have taught them to
do this. Let me then ask those who deny any faculties to the animal creation
beyond instinct, what faculty induced the birds to alter their original mode of
procedure ? g

3rd, On returning to the kiln the second and third ycars, the swallows must
have kept in their recollection, not only the fact that the earth instinct had
taught them to use in building their nests would not bear the heat of the kiln,
but they must also have remembered the sort of earth or clay which was
requisite, and also the necessity of making use of it in that peculiar place.

Mr. White has elsewhere remarked, that philosophers have defined instinct
to be that secret influence by which every species is impelled naturally to
pursue, at all times, the same way or tract, without any teaching or example ;
whereas vesi3on, without instruction, would often vary, and do that by many
methods which instinct effects by one alone. If this definition between
instinct and reason is correct, the above mentioned fact would seem to entitle
these swallows to be considered as possessed of no ordinary degree of sense and
intelligence, if not of something approaching to reason.— Ep. (Gleanings.)

166 HOUSE-MARTINS.

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-spar-
row, 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 secure from the injuries of weather.
The shell, or crust, of the nest is a sort of rustic-work, full
of knobs and protuberances on the outside; nor is the 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 linmg of small straws, grasses, and feathers; and some-
times by a bed of moss interwoven with wool. In this nest,
they tread, or engender, frequently during the time of
building; and the hen lays from three to five white eggs.t
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 cleanliness, the nestlings would soon be
burnt up and destroyed, in so deep and hollow a nest, by
their own caustic excrement. In the quadruped creation,

* Several interesting facts have been communicated to me of the revenge-
ful disposition of martins, when their nests have been invaded by sparrows.
In one instance at Hampton Court, a gentleman informed me the morning it
took place that a couple of sparrows had hatched their young in a martin’s
nest. Two or three days afterwards, a number of martins came, pecked the
nest to pieces, and I saw the unfledged young dead on the ground beneath the
window. In another instance, the foreman of the carpenters at the palace,
Hampton Court, informed me, that while working at his bench close to the
window, a pair of swallows built their nest in a corner of it and where he
frequently watched it. When completed some sparrows took possession of it,
and deposited their eggs. While the hen was sitting on them, several martins
came and closed up the hole. After » few weeks he examined the nest
and found the bird dead on her eggs. I could mention other similar
instances.—Ep.

+ This is certainly a mistake. Mr. White could not have seen the circum-
stance even had it taken place, from the construction of the nest. In fact,
both the martin and, swift copulate on the wing as I have frequently seen
them do.—Ep.

HOUSE-MARTINS. 167

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
eb that the dung of nestlings is enveloped in a tough

d of jelly, and, therefore, is the easier conveyed off, with-
out 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
wAucia, or full growth, they soon become impatient of con-
finement, and sit all day with their heads out at the orifice,
where the dams, by clinging to the nest, supply them with
food from morning to 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 sleight, that a person 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
hovering, on sunny mornings and evenings, round towers
and steeples, and on the roofs of churches and houses. These
congregations 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 altogether ; 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.t They are often capricious in fixing on a nesting-

* The dung is enclosed in a thin membrane and this enables the parent
birds to convey it away more easily in their mouths. This is done both for
cleanliness and protection, for if the exuvie of the young birds accumulated
around the nest, it would be more readily discovered. I have watched a black-
pird when in removing the excrement, the membrane has burst in his mouth,
and have seen him shake his head, and show evident symptoms of annoyance.
It is generally suffered to drop during the flight of the parent bird from the
nest.—Ep.

++ T have seen the whole roof of the tennis court at Hampton Court covered
in the autumn with young martins. After playing about for some days, they
congregate on the aits of the river Thames,—Eb.

168 HOUSE-MARTINS.

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 the morn-
ing: when they fix their materials, they plaster 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 frequently as swallows. It has been observed, that
martins 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 an hot stifled inn-yard,
against a wall facing to the south.

Birds in general are wise in their choice of situation; but,
in this neighbourhood, every summer, is seen a strong proof
to the contrary, at an house without eaves, in an exposed
district, where some martins build, year by year, in the
corners of the windows. But, as the corners of these win-
dows (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 sum-
mer, 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 “ generis lapsi sarcire ruinas.’ Thus
is instinct a most wonderfully 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 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 feathers partook of the filth of that sooty

* When the Hudson’s Bay Company formed a new settlement in North
America, they found the nests of swallows on the faces of the rocky cliffs,
near Fort Chepewyan, Soon afterwards the birds built their nests under the
eaves of the dwelling-house, which were about six fect above a balcony that
extends the whole length of the building, and is a frequent promenade. They
had thus to graze the heads of the passengers on entering their nests, and yet
they preferred the dwelling-house to more lofty places—Dux. RictiaRpson.

HOUSE-MARTINS. 169

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. Accordingly, they make
use of a placid, easy motion, in a middle region of the air,
seldom mounting to any great height, and never sweeping
along together over the surface of the ground or water. They
do not wander far for food, but affect sheltered districts, over
some lake, or under some hanging wood, or in some hollow
vale, especially i in windy weather. They breed the latest of
all the swallow kind: in 177 2, they had nestlings on to
October the twenty-first, 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 frequent the aits of that river, where they roost.
They retire, the bulk of them I mean, in vast flocks together,
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 November the third and sixth, after
they were supposed to have been gone for more than a fort-
night.* They, therefore, withdraw with us the latest of any

* The following remarks on birds of passage were sent me by an intelligent
naval officer and naturalist :—

“ Birds do not always migrate at night, nor in fine weather and fair winds
only ; on the 25th of September, 1848, beating up channel, wind north-east
fresh, weather raw, hazy and unpleasant, hundreds of small birds crossed,
making direct for the coast of France; they were not in flocks, but singly or
in small parties; the distance was about 100 miles to the nearest land. The
weather looked very threatening but did not become any worse, very few took
notice of the vessel, but continued the direct course and would probably reach land
in four or five hours; the species were several, but I could only recognise two,
a green sylvia and the stonechat ; the latter flew as on shore, with its usual
weak jerking flight, only a few feet above the water. A week before, when
about 400 miles from land, one of the latter came on board, remained a short
time, then departed and returned in the evening, was again seen next morning,
left again (there were at this time several vessels in sight, so that the poor little
fellow no doubt visited them all), in the evening returned and flew complctely
exhausted into the open porthole of one of the cabins, and lay almost dead on
the bed; a little water revived him, and the next day I fed him with about
fifty flies, spiders, &c., with plenty of meat, which he took eagerly, but my

170 HOUSE-MARTINS,

species. Unless these birds are very short-lived, indeed, or
unless they do not return to the district where they aré bred,
they must undergo vast devastation somehow 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 manner, in their nests. During the time of
breeding, they are often greatly molested with fleas.

LETTER LVI.

TO THE SAME.
Rinemer, near Lewes, Dec. 9, 1773.

Dear Str,—I received your last favour just as I was setting
out for this place; and am pleased to find that my monography
met with your approbation. My remarks are the result of
many years’ observation ; and are, I trust, true on the whole ;
though I do not pretend to say that they are perfectly void
of mistake, or that a more nice observer might not make
many additions, since subjects of this kind are inexhaustible.

poor little emigrant was dead the next morning: poor little fellow, the long
continued easterly winds had driven him completely out of his reckoning, and
from the appearance of his emaciated body when I skinned him, he had
probably been seven or eight days without food. We are apt to imagine
that because some birds fly to Africa, they must be tired before they get there,
but I do not see any occasion for any of our birds to goa greater distance than
across the channel, and then they may go southward by easy stages: the
greatest distance that I am aware of that a (land) bird of passage has to fly, is
from Australia to New Zealand, more than 1000 miles without one resting
place. yet this is accomplished by two beautiful species of cuckoo, one of those
is not larger than a wagtail, yet even this long flight may be made in little more
than one day. The natives say these birds come fiom Hawaihi; if it is a fact
that they are found there, it will prove not only the great range of flight, but
confirm the account of the natives having originally come from thence, and like-
wise tend to show how correct they are in their observations of nature, and
how well they remember all their ancient traditions."—H. C.

uy,
ni)

ha

M(

Tue House Martin.

SUSSEX DOWNS. 171

Ifyou think my letter worthy the notice of your respect-
able 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, I may be induced to take the house-swallow under
consideration; and from that proceed to the rest of the
British hirundines.

Though I have now travelled the Sussex Downs upwards
of thirty years, yet I still investigate that chain of majestic
mountains with fresh admiration year by year; and I think
I see new beauties every time I traverse it. The range,
which runs from Chichester eastward as far as East Bourn,
is about sixty miles in length, and is called the South Downs,
properly speaking, only round Lewes. As you pass along,
you command a noble view of the wold, or weald, on one
hand, and the broad downs and sea, on the other. Mr. Ray
used to visit a family* just at the foot of these hills, and was
so ravished with the prospect from Plympton-plain, near
Lewes, that he mentions those capes in his Wisdom of God
in the Works of Creation, with the utmost satisfaction, and
thinks them equal to anything he had seen in the finest
parts of Europe. 2

For my own part, I think there is somewhat peculiarly
sweet and amusing 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 con-
template these mountains without thinking I perceive some-
what 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 vege-
tative 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?

* Mr. Courthope, of Danny.

172 SHEEP OF SUSSEX DOWNS.

By what I can guess from the admeasurements of the hills
that have been taken round my house, I should suppose that
these hills surmount the wild, at an average, at about the
rate of five hundred feet. :

One thing is very remarkable as to the sheep: from the
westward, till you get to the river Adur, all the flocks have
horns, and smooth white faces, and white legs; and a horn-
less 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 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 on the other. And this diversity holds
good respectively on each side, from the valley of Bramber
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 intelligent friend of mine
near Chichester is determined to try the experiment; and
has, this autumn, at the hazard of being laughed at, intro-
duced a parcel of black-faced hornless rams among his horned
western ewes.) The black-faced poll-sheep have the shortest
legs and the finest wool.*

As I had hardly ever before travelled these downs at so
late a season of the year, I was determined 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, entre nous, the
disappearing of the latter is more marvellous than that of the
former, and much more unaccountable. The hirundines, if
they please, are certainly capable of migration; and yet, no
doubt, are often found in a torpid state; but redstarts,

* If Mr. White was now alive he would be led to think very differently,
so great has been the improvement of late years in our breed of sheep.—Eo.

BING-OUSELS.—TORTOISE. 178

nightingales, white-throats, black-caps, &c., &c., 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 sup-
posed, in such troops, from year to year, to dodge and elude
the eyes of the curious and inquisitive, which, from day to
day, discern the other small birds that are known to abide
our winters. But, notwithstanding 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 seen to my knowledge
all the winter through, in many parts of the south of Eng-
land. The most intelligent shepherd tells 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 im 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 Brighthelmstone and Tun-
bridge, and appear at the tables of all the gentry that enter-
tain with any degree 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 Hast Bourn, which is the eastern ex-
tremity 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 are never
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 appear that
any wheatears are taken to the westward 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 re-
marked them in.the month of October, all the way from
Chichester to Lewes, wherever there were any shrubs and
covert; but not one bird of this sort came within my observ-
ation. I only saw a few larks and whinchats, some rooks,
and several kites and buzzards.

About midsummer, a flight of crossbills comes to the

174 SWALLOWS.

pine-groves about this house, but never make any long
stay.*

The old tortoise, that I have mentioned in a former 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 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 of day they always revisit their nest-trees, and are pre-
ceded a few minutes by a flight of daws that act as it were
as their harbingers.

LETTER LVIZ.

TO THE SAME.
SELBoRNE, Jan. 2, 1769.
Dear Srtr,—The house-swallow, or chimney-swallow, is, un-
doubtedly, the first comer of all the British hirundines ; and
appears in general on or about the 13th of April, as I have
remarked from many years’ observation. Not but now and
then a straggler is seen much earlier; and, in particular,
when I was a boy, I observed a swallow for a whole day toge-
ther 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

* A pretty large flock of crossbills visited Ambleside, in Westmorcland, in
October, 1828, frequenting the plantations of young larches.—W. J.

SWALLOWS. 175

case of the two dreadful springs of 1770 and 1771, they
immediately withdraw for a time; a circumstance this, mach
more in favour of hiding than migration; since it is much
more probable that a bird should retire to its hybernaculum
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 within barns
and out-houses, against the rafters; and so she did in Virgil’s
time,—

« Ante ;
Garrula quim tignis nidos suspendat hirundo.”

“ Before the noisy swallow’s nest depends,
From the strong beam that through the roof extends.”

In Sweden, she builds in barns, and is called ladu swala
(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 the shaft of an old
well, through which chalk had been formerly drawn up, for
the purpose of manure; but, in general, with us this hirwndo
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 middle 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:

* T have known a swallow make its nest on the knocker of the hall-door
at Pipe Hall, in Warwickshire; and in a low archway through which the
water was conducted from a mill-wheel near Dover.—Eb.

176 SWALLOWS.

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 shows all
day long, in ascending and descending with security through
so narrow a pass. When hovering over the mouth of the
funnel, the vibrations of her wings acting on the confined
air, occasion a rumbling 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 rapacious
birds, and particularly from owls, which frequently fail 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 difticulty
enough, and often fall down into the rooms below: for a day
or so, they are fed on the chimney-top, and then are con-
ducted 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
fliers, 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 certain 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 alittle quick note of gratitude and complacency,
that a person 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 business 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 congregates, clustering on sunny
roofs, towers, and trees. This hirwndo brings out her second
brood towards the middle and end of August.*

* The number of insects taken on the wing by swallows, especially when
they have young to feed, must be enormous, and their utility is great in propor-
tion. Let me give an instance of it. In a village in Gloucestershire where
there were several hop-gardens, some young farmers amused themselves for
two or three summers in practising with their guns on the swallows, and either
killed or drove them away. The consequence was that the hop-binds were infested

SWALLOWS. 177

All the summer long is the swallow a most instructive
. pattern of unwearied industry and affection ; for, from morn-
ing 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, espe-
cially if there are trees interspersed, because in such spots
insects most abound. When a fly is taken, a smart sna
from her bill is heard, resembling 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 excubitor to
house-martins and other little birds, announcing the approach
of birds of prey ; for as soon as an 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, darting down from
above on his back, and rising in a perpendicular line in per-
fect security. This bird also will sound the alarm and strike
at cats when they climb on the roofs of houses, or otherwise
approach the nests. Each species of hirundo 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 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; is also a bold flier, ranging
to distant downs and commons even in windy weather, which
the other species seem much to dislike; nay, even frequenting

by insects and much injured. This, however, was not the case in an adjoining
village, in which a friend of mine, a benevolent’ clergyman, resided, and who
persuaded ‘his parishioners to protect the swallow. ‘

I have often thought that if the extensive hop-growers in Kent and other
countries were to erect a sort of cheap tower, with projecting eaves, in their
hop-grounds, and thatch them over, swallows would buiid under them, ani thus
colonies of these birds would be formed, which would clear the hops of numerous
noxious insects. The suggestion is, I am persuaded, worthy of attention. The
birds would then be able to fulfil the purpose for which a kind Providence had
sent them. Our brethren of the United States harbour and protect the swallows
as much as possible about their dwellings —Ep. :

N

178 SWALLOWS.

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 play before and behind them, sweeping around, and
collecting all the skulking 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.

This species feeds much on little coleoptera, 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, to a bird they forsake houses and chimneys,
and roost in trees, and usually withdraw about the beginning
of October, though some few stragglers may appear on at
times till the first week in November.

Some few pairs haunt the new and open streets of London
next the fields, but do not enter, like the house-martin, the
close and crowded parts of the city.

Both male and female are distinguished from their conge-
ners 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.

After this circumstantial detail of the life and discern-
ing cropy; of the swallow, I shall add, for your further
amusement, an anecdote or two, not much in favour of her
sagacity.*

* The accowpanying very interesting communication made to me will afford
some contradiction tu this remark :—

“June, 1848. As I know you are interested in the fate of all living beings,
I hesitate not to relate the following circumstances. A pair of swallows many
years ago built their nest in our carriage-house, and brought up two broods of
young ones; for their accommodation our man John, who is a most kind-
hearted fellow, put up a perch, for which they seemed grateful. Since that,
time they have come with unerring instinct year after year to the same spot ;
John always announcing their arrival with great glee, and 1 believe considers '
them as a sort of guardian spirits of the building. This year another pair built
their house in the hay-loft, some distance from, and not in sight of the origina
settlers; however they spied out the perch, and with true democratic insolence

took possession of it. The old family disdained to mix with the parvenues,
aud the'rvesult was frequent battles and noisy émeutes. Whether these affairs

SWALLOWS. 179

A certain swallow built, for two years together, on the
handles of a pair of garden-shears, that were stuck up against
the boards in an out-house, and therefore must have her nest

brought on the following catastrophe, I know not. John going as usual to
lock the carriage-house door a few evenings since—for, strange to say, the
birds are locked in every night—found, to his great horror, the nest on the
floor broken to atoms, and, scattered about, five young birds partially fledged.
The parent birds were fixed on the perch and, seemed incapable of motion
through grief. John immediately got a small round basket, placed in ita
nest that had been recently deserted by a family of starlings, then put in the
young birds, and next proceeded to fix the basket on the perch near the place
occupied by the destroyed nest. The old birds watched the proceedings with
great gravity, and as soon as John had removed his ladder, they went on the
edge of the basket, looked in and appeared to be well satisfied with the
arrangement, and have continued since to the delight of us all to tend and
feed their young, as if they were still dwelling in: their mud-built cottage.
The present family will soon take flight, and I am anxious to know what the
proceedings will be in regard to the second brood.

“September, 1848. The swallows have not produced a second family,
although after the flight of the first they made the nest in the basket complete,
and which they still continue to occupy. I intend to.let the basket remain,
and I will, if permitted, report proceedings to you next year. |

“July, 1849. I must give you the sequel of the history of ny mysterious
friends the swallows, whose adventures last year I related to you. The pair
arrived on the 28th of April, which my kind man John announced to me, and
further that they had examined the basket-nest, the asylum of their young ones
of last season, We now watched their proccedings with much interest, but
for some time could not arrive at their intended plans; one point, however, was
certain, there was no attempt made to erect the usual mud tenement. The ques-
tion was at length set at rest, the basket-nest was adopted, some slight repairs
made, and the lady took possession of it, her lord gravely perching by the side
of the basket. After a certain time we could not resist taking a peep into the
basket during the absence of the matron, and were gratified at seeing four eggs
in the nest; since, all bas gone on well, the young family have arrived at
days of discretion (I hope), at least they have all been introduced into the
grand air by their parents, and taught the rudiments of their future pursuits.
But their final departure from their basket-home has not yet taken place,
for this morning I saw the four perched on its edge attended by their’
mamma.

“ November, 1849. I think I told you that the swallows took possession
of the basket-house : the result was two full families of young ones, both
arrived, I presume, at days of discretion, at least they all eraulated and I
think equalled the parent birds in the pursuit of their varied prey at an’early
period of the season. Indeed they all took their departure about the middle
of September. The following is most interesting and I am not aware that it
has been before noticed. The basket-nest was fixed on the end of a piece of
wood; the other portion of which, about two feet and a half in length,

n2

180 SWALLOWS.

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 appear-
ance, and are not the least curious specimens in that wonder-
ful 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 immediately respect self-pre-
servation, or lead at once to the propagation or support of
their species.

LETTER LVIII.

TO THE SAME.
Se.BornE, Feb. 14, 1774.

Drar S1r,—I received your favour of the eighth, and am
pleased to find that you read my little history of the swallow

served the old and young birds as a perch. After the first brood of four took
strong flight, no more was seen of them in the carriage-house till the evening
preceding the above-mentioned final departure, when my man hearing a great
chattering amongst his favourites, aud fearing a cat had got among them,
hurried to the rescue, when, to his astonishment, he beheld the two old birds,
and all their annual progeny (eleven) perched in a linc, evidently receiving
instructions relative to their mysterious journey: be that as it may, on the

following morning all were gone !”
The above remarks also prove that swallows return to the same
locality. —Eb.
: * Sir Ashton Lever’s Museum

SWALLOWS. 181

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 precisely which
species of hirundo Virgil might intend, in the lines in ques-
tion, since the ancients did not attend to specific differences,
like modern naturalists; yet somewhat may be gathered,
enough to incline me to suppose, that, in the two passages
quoted, the poet had his eve on the swallow.

In the first place, the epithet garrula * suits the swallow
well, who 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 tignwm in that place signifies a
rafter, rather than a beam, as it seems to me to do, then I
think 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 nigra speaks plainly in 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
(comparatively 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 pur-
suit of the enraged Aineas. The verb sonat also seems to
imply a bird that is somewhat loquacious.t

* So Anacreon—
* Silly swallow! prating thing.”—Ep.
+ “ Nigra velut magnas domini cum divitis edes
Pervolat, et pennis alta atria lustrat hirundo,
Pabula parva legens, nidisque loquacibus escas :
Et nunc porticibus vacuis, nunc humida circum
Stagna sonat.”

“ As the dark swallow in a splendid hall,
With gloomy pinions flits along each wall,
Of scatter’d crumbs and humble food in quest
To still the clamour of the craving nest ;
Now through the porch her agile figure bounds,
Now by the lake her noisy note resounds.”

182 SAND-MARTINS.

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, that the corn
vales must be drowned: and so it has proved for these ten
or eleven years past: for land-springs have never obtained
more since the memory 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 husbandry.
Such a run of wet seasons, a century or two ago, would, I
am persuaded, have occasioned a famine. Therefore, pam-
phlets 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 remarkably 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.

LETTER LIX.

TO THE SAME.

SELBoRNE, February 26, 1774.

Dzar Str,—The sand-martin, or bank-martin, is by much

the least of any of the British hirundines, and, as far as we

have ever seen, the smallest known hirwndo ; though Brisson

asserts that: there is one much smaller, and that is the hirundo
esculenta.

But it is much to be regretted that it is searce possible for

any observer to be so full and exact as he could wish in

reciting the circumstances attending the life and conversa-

SAND-MARTINS, 183

tion of this little bird, since it is fera naturd, at least in this
part of the kingdom, disclaiming all domestic attachments,
and haunting wild heaths and commons where there are large
lakes ; while the other species, especially the swallow and
house-martin, are remarkably gentle and domesticated, 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
lake of Wolmer Forest, several colonies of these birds; and yet
they are never seen in the village, 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 enclosure, and faces upon a large and beautiful lake.
And, 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 degrees of
architectonic skill Providence has endowed birds of the same
genus, and so nearly correspondent in their general mode of
life; for, while the swallow and the house-martin discover
the greatest address in raising and securely fixing crusts or
shells of loam, as cunabula 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

* M. Eugéne Robert communicated to the Academy of Sciences at Paris a
curious observation that he had made in the case of some nests of the sand-
martin, which he had an opportunity of examining. He noticed that they
were lined or plastered over with a sort of matter, which he believed to be the
spawn of fish, and which helped to prevent the sand from falling down into
the nest.—W. Jenyns.

184 SAND-MARTINS.

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 her-
self; yet with these feeble instruments have I seen a pair of
them make great dispatch, 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
make his 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 forwardness
for next spring, is allowing, perhaps, too much foresight and
skill to a simple bird. May not the cause of these latebre
being left unfinished arise from their meeting in those places
with strata too harsh, hard, and solid for their purpose, which
they relinquish, and go to afresh 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 ; perhaps 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, (pulex writans,)
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 sand-martin 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 cryptogame, carrying on the
business of nidification, incubation, and the support of its

SAND-MARTINS. 185

young in the dark, it would not be so easy to ascertain the
time of breeding, 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 nestlings are
supported in common, like those of their congeners, with
gnats and other small insects, and sometimes they are fed
with libellule (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 enclosures,
they are dispossessed of their breeding-holes by the house-
sparrow, which is, on the same account, a fell adversary to
house-martins.

These hirundines are no songsters, but rather mute, making
only a little harsh noise when a person approaches their nests.
They seem not to be or asociable turn, never with us congre-
gating 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 on the whole, in the south of England at least,
is this much the rarest species; for there are few towns or
large villages but what abound with house-martius; few
churches, towers, or steeples but what are haunted by some
swifts; scarce a hamlet or 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 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 hirundines 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 London, frequenting

186 MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.

the dirty pools in St. 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 seaffold-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 diminu-
tiveness of their size, and in their colour, which is what is
usually called a mouse-colour. Near Valencia, in Spain,
they are taken, says Willughby, and sold in the markets for
the table, and are called by the country people, probably
from their desultory, jerking manner of flight, Papillon de
Montagna. :

LETTER LX.

TO THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

SELBORNE, Sept. 2, 1774.
Derar S1r,—Before your letter arrived, and of my own
accord, I had been remarking and comparing the tails of the
male and female swallow, and this ere any young broods
appeared ; so that there'was no danger of confounding the
dams with their pulli ; and, besides, 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
different 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: these last sounds seem intended for menace and
defiance.

The grasshopper-lark chirps all night in the height of

summer.

MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS. 187

Swans turn white the second year, and breed the third.

Weasels prey on moles, as appears by their being some-
times caught in mole-traps. ~

Sparrow-hawks sometimes breed in old crows’ nests; and
the kestrel 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 per-
haps their young: the generation of eels is very dark and
mysterious. :

Hen-harriers breed on the ground, and seem never to
settle on trees.

When redstarts shake their tails, they move them hori-
zontally, as dogs do when they fawn: the tail of the wagtail,
sai in motion, bobs up and down, like that of a jaded

orse.

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 midsummer re-
assume their notes again in September ; as the thrush, black-
bird, woodlark, willow-wren, &c.; hence August} is by 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 ?

Linneus ranges plants geographically ; palms inhabit the
tropics ; grasses the temperate zones ; and mosses and lichens
the polar circles: no doubt animals may be classed in the
same manner with propriety.

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.

* There are three species of eels. See Mr. Yarrell’s work on British
fishes. Eels are infested with intestinal worms, a circumstance which has
induced many to suppcse them to be viviparous, myself amongst the rest.
The generation of eels is now well ascertaincd.— Ep.

+ The robin is the only bird 1 hear sing in August. They perhaps moult
earlier than other song-birds, for in the moulting season birds are perfectly
mute.— Ep.

+ There two species of sparrows,—the house and the tree sparrow, See
Mr. Yarrell’s British Birds —Eb.

188 MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS.

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 eat the
common mice, refusing the red.

Red-breasts sing all through the spring, summer, and
autumn. The reason that they are called autumn songsters
is, because in the two first seasons their voices are lost and
drowned in the general chorus: in the latter, their song
becomes distinguishable. Many songsters of the autumn
seem to be the young cock red-breast of that year: notwith-
standing the prejudices in their favour, they do much mischief
in gardens to the summer fruits.*

The titmouse, which early in February begins to make two
quaint notes, like the whetting of a saw,} is the marsh tit-
mouse; the great titmouse sings with three cheerful joyous
notes, and begins about the same time.

Wrens sing all the winter through, frost excepted.

House-martins came remarkably late this year, both in
Hampshire and Devonshire: is this circumstance for or
against either hiding or mitration ?

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 scarabeus solstitialis, or
fern-chafer, commence with the month of July, and cease
about the end of it. These scarabs are the constant food of
caprimulgi, 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 Read-
ing, 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

* They cat also the berries of the ivy, the honeysuckle, and the euonymus
curopeus, or spindle-tree.

+ It is undoubtedly the great titmouse, p. major, which whets like a
saw. I hawe watched it for a quarter of an-hour together ; it has also cheerful
notes.—W. J.

MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS. 189

as soon as the weather grows at all severe, theso 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 white-throat, which is continually repeated,
and often attended with odd gesticulations on the wing, is
harsh and displeasing. These birds seem of pugnacious~dis-
position ; for they sing with an erected crest, and attitudss_
of rivalry and defiance; are shy and wild in breeding-time,
avoiding neighbourhoods, and haunting lonely lanes and
commons ;* 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 black-cap has, in common, a full, sweet, deep, loud,
and wild pipe; yet that strain is of short continuance, 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 modulations, superior, perhaps, to those of any of our
warblers, the nightingale excepted.

Black-caps 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 white-throat; 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 to night; he affects
neighbourhoods, and avoids solitude, and loves to build in

orchards and about houses; with us he perches on the vane
of a tall maypole.

The fly-catcher 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 sweet-brier, against the wall of a house,
or ia 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

* So far from this being the case, a white-throat built its nest in the iron-
work on the top of a lamp in Portland Place, and another in tbe iron-work of
ove of the beautiful gates of Hampton Court Palace. It is an amicable and
amusing bird when its habits are attended to.—Ep.

+

190 SWIFTS.

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.t Let
me add, also, that it has shown near half the species that
were ever known in Great Britain.t

On a retrospect, I observe that my long letter carries with
it a quaint and magisterial air, and is very sententious: but
when I recollect that you requested stricture and anecdote,
hope you will pardon the didactic manner for the sake of the
information it may happen to contain.

LETTER LXI.

TO THE HON. DAINES BARRINGTON.

j SexBorne, Sept. 28, 1774.
Dear Srr,—As the swift, or black-martin, is the largest of
the British hirwndines, so it is undoubtedly the latest comer:
for I remember but one instance of its appearing 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 arrives in pairs.

The swift, like the sand-martin, is very defective in archi-
tecture, 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, I have
never been able once to discover one in the act of collecting

* The muscicapa grisola, Linn.—W. J.
++ Mr. Yarrell has informed us that near scventy species of birds have been
noticed in Kensington Gardens, which considering the situation, as well as
the confined nature of the locality, is an unusually great number.—Y4rrexw’s
British Birds. ‘
t Sweden 221; Great Britain 252 species.

SWIFTS. 191

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 remembering that I have seen’
them squabbling together at the entrance of their holes, and
the sparrows 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 nidifi-
cation 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 cannot be so narrowly watched
as those species that build more openly; but, from what
T 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 educate their young under those
thatched roofs. "We remember but one instance where they
breed out of buildings, and that is in the sides of a deep
chalk pit near the town of Odiham, in this county, where we
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, especially as my assertion is the
result of many years’ exact observation. The fact that I
would advance is, that swifts tread, or copulate on the wing ;
and I would wish any nice observer that is startled at this
supposition 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 different species of many
genera in conjunction as they fly. The swift is almost con-
tinually on the wing ; and as it never settles on the ground,
on trees, or roofs, would seldom find opportunity for amorous
rites, were it not enabled to indulge them in the air. [any
person would watch these birds of'a fine morning in May, as

192 SWIFTS.

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.

As the swift eats, drinks, collects materials for its nest,
and, as ib seems, propagates on the wing, it appears to live
more in the air than any other bird, and to perform’ all
functions there save those of sleeping and incubation.

This hirundo 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 getting
together into little parties dash round the steeples and
churches, squeaking as they go in a very clamorous manner:
these, by nice observers, are supposed 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 forth just as
it is almost dark, and stretches and relieves her weary limbs,
and snatches a scanty meal for a few minutes, and then
returns to her duty of incubation. Swifts, when wantonly
and ‘cruelly shot while they have young, discover a little
lump of insects in their mouths, which they pouch and hold
under their tongue. In general, they feed in a much higher
district 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

SWIFTS. 193

their levers; and their wings are longer in proportion than
those of almost 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 remarked
that swifts were hawking very low, for hours together, over
pools and streams; and could not help inquiring into the
object of their pursuit, that induced them to descend so much
below their usual range. After some trouble I found that
they were taking phryganec, ephemera, libellule (cadew-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 suck
plentiful and succulent nourishment.

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.

On the 30th of last June I untiled the eaves of a house
where many pairs build, and found 'in each nest only two
squab, naked pulli. On the 8th of July I repeated the
same inquiry, and found they had made very little progress
towards a fledged state, but were still naxed and helpless;
from whence we may conclude, that birds whose way of lite
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 continually 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 swal-
lows express on the same occasion. They are out all day
long on wet days, feeding about, and disregarding still rain ;
trom whence two things may be gathered,—fitst, 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, and on such days withdraw, and are
scarcely ever seen.

ry

194 SWIFTS.

There is a cireumstauce respecting the colour of swifts,
which seems not to be unworthy our attention. When they
arrive in the spring. they are all over of a glossy dark soot
colour, except their chms, 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 return
glossy again in the spring.* Now, if they pursue 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 hirundines breed mvariably 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 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 hirun-
dines twice, the latter, who lay from four to six eggs, increase,
at an average, five times as fast as the former.

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 extra-
ordinary, they begin to retire still earlier in the more
southerly parts of Andalusia, where they can be nowise
influenced by any defect of heat, or, as one might suppose,
defect of food. Are they regulated in their motions with us

* Mr. Yarrell says that the swift departs before its moult, and when its
plumage is at the worst from wear and tear, Our summer visitors generally
complete their moult before they leave us, but not the Hirundinide.

SWIFTS. 195

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
baffles our researches, but almost eludes our guesses !

These hirundines 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
with 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 hippobosce
hirundinis, and often wriggle and scratch themselves, in
their flight, to get rid of that clinging annoyance.

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 account 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 where they
cannot pass on their bellies, they will turn up edgewise.

The particular formation of the foot discrimimates the
swift from all the British hirwndines, and, indeed, from all
other known birds, the hirwndo melba, or great white-bellied
swift of Gibraltar excepted ; for it is so disposed as to carry
“omnes quatuor digitos anticos,” all its four toes forward:
besides, the least toe, which should be the back toe, consists
of one bone alone, and the other three only of two a-piece,—
a construction most rare and particular, but nicely adapted
to the purposes in which their feet are employed. This, and.
some peculiarities attending the nostrils and under mandible,
have induced a discerning naturalist * to suppose that this
species might constitute a genus per se.t

In London, a party of swifts frequents the Tower, playing
and feeding over the river just below the bridge; others
haunt some of the churches of the Borough next the fields,

* John Antony Scopoli, of Carniola, M.D.
+ The genus Cypselus of Illiger is now generally adopted for this group.
It is also the Apus of Belon—W. J. \

02

196 SWIFTS.

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 procure gravel to grind their food,
as swallows do, since they never settle on the ground.
Young ones, overrun with hippobosce, are sometimes found,
under their nests, fallen to the ground, the number of vermin
rendering their abode insupportable any longer. They fre-

uent in this village several abject cottages ; yet a succession
still haunts the same unlikely 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 part of a roof
over the nest of a swift. The dam sat in the nest; but so
strongly was she affected by natural oropy) 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, per-
mitting herself to be taken in hand. The squab young we
brought down and placed on the grass-plot, wheretheytumbled
about, and were as helpless as a new-born child. While we
contemplated their naked bodies,* their unwieldy dispropor-
tioned abdomina, and their heads too heavy for their necks to
support, we could not but wonder when we reflected that these
shiftless beings, in a little more than a fortnight, would be
able to dash through the air almost with the inconceivable
swiftness of a meteor, and, perhaps, in their emigration,
must traverse vast continents and oceans as distant as the
equator. So soon does Nature advance small birds to their
jdxia, or state of perfection ; while the progressive growth
of men and large quadrupeds is slow and tedious!

_ * We hope that Mr. White restored these helpless birds to their nest,
and we suppose he did so, but it is not easy to see his object in either
removing them, or in secing their feeble state on a grass-plot.—Eb.

RETURN OF SWALLOWS. 197

LETTER LXII.

TO THE SAME.

SELBORNE, Sept. 1774.
Deasz Stz,—By means of a 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
was performed, to a considerable depth in the chimney, was
somewhat interrupted 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 hirwndines 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 1st; and house-martins not
till the middle of May. At Blackburn, in Lancashire,
swifts were seen April the 28th; swallows, April the 29th;

~house-martins, May the 1st. Do these different dates, in
such distant districts, prove anything for or against migra-
tion ?

A farmer near Weyhill fallows his land with two teams of
asses, one of which works: till noon, and the other im 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 the yard, and make
plenty of dung.

Linnzus says, that hawks “ ¥ paciscuntur inducias cum
avibus, quamdiu cuculus cuculat ;’" 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 their feathers left in
lanes and under hedges.

* Tobit, ii. 10,

198 MISSEL-THRUSH.

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 lwyn, the head or master
of the coppice. He suffers no magpie, jay, or blackbird to
enter the 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 I ob-
served in my garden that several magpies came determined
to storm the nest of a missel-thrush. The dams defended
their mansion with great vigour, and fought resolutely ; but
numbers at last prevailed: they tore the nest to pieces, and
swallowed the young alive.*

In the season of nidification, the wildest birds are com-
paratively 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 autum and winter,
builds in my garden close to a walk where people are passing
all day long. :

Wall-fruits abound 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 disco-
loured and blighted our wheat. The crop of hops promises
to be very large.

Frequent returns of deafness incommode me sadly, and
half disqualify me for a naturalist ; for, when those fits are
upon me, I lose all the pleasing notices and little intimations

* When magpies have young, they will constantly attack the nests of other
birds, and frequently the old birds, for food. Indeed there are few things on
which these voracious birds will not feed. The following is extracted from a
communication made by Mr. Wasey:—“ As I was travelling yesterday
between Andover and the railway station I noticed on the road a magpie
struggling with some animal; on the approach of the coach it took flight,
bearing away its prize to about sixty yards across a field, when it dropped it,
and on my brother getting off to see what it was, he found it to be a full-
grown red-wing. The magpie had pecked its eyes out to prevent its escape,
and would soon have killed it, had we not so unceremoniously deprived him
of his dinner. I believe it is not generally known that magpies ever prey
upon living birds, especially a bird of such magnitude and weight as a fieldfare.
No doubt it was hardly pressed by hunger and the inclemency of the season ;
put it isa fact worthy the attention of ornithologists, and if you think fit to
take notiee of the circumstance I will vouch for its truth.”

“HRUSH.

i

MISSEL

THE

GOLDEN-CROWNED WREN. 199

arising from rural sounds; and May is to me as silent and
mute, with respect to the notes of birds, &c., 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.”

LETTER LXTII.
TO THOMAS PENNANT, Esq.

Ir 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 winters ; for the robust wry-neck (so much resemblin,
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 sea-
sons, while he 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.t

* Nature has been very provident as to the subsistence of soft-billed birds
during the winter months; vast numbers of insects hide themselves in
interstices of trees, walls, &c., where birds seek for and feed on them. I con-
stantly see birds clinging to old walls in search of food. The golden-breasted
wren harbours much in winter amongst Scotch firs, where it not only finds
shelter, but food, and often roosts in warm low sheds at night.—Ep.

+ This species extends as far as the Orkney Isles. There is a constant
migration of them, about the end of autumn, from the north of Europe, though
we also have a great many that are stationary. Mr. Selby has recorded a very
singular instance of migration, which occurred on the 24th and 25th October,
1822. After a severe gale, with thick fog, from the north-east, thousands of
these birds were seen to arrive on the sea-sbore and sand-banks of the North-
umbrian coast, many of them so fatigued by the length of their flight, as to
de unable to rise again from the ground; and great numbers were, in conse-
quence, caught or destroyed. This flight must have been immense in quantity,
as its extent was traced through the whole length of the coasts of Northumber-
Jand and Durham.—W. J.

200 SOFT-BILLED BIRDS,

I have no reason to doubt but that the soft-billed birds
which winter with us, subsist chiefly on insects in their
aurelia state.* All the species of wagtails in severe weather
haunt shallow streams, near their spring-heads, where they
never freeze; and, by wading, pick out the aurelias of the
genus of phryganee,t &e.

Hedge-sparrows frequent sinks and gutters in hard wea-
ther, 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. Red-breasts and wrens, in the winter, haunt
outhouses, 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 winter, is
that infinite profusion of aurelie of the lepidoptera 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 Linnean genera of fringilla and mota-
cilla. One species alone spends its whole time in the woods
and fields, never retreating for succour, in the severest sea-
sons, 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 (parus ceru-
leus), the cole-mouse (parus ater), the great black-headed
titmouse (fringillago), and the marsh titmouse (parus palus-
tris), all resort, at times, to buildings, and in hard weather
particularly. The great titmouse, driven by stress of wea-
ther, much frequents houses; and, in deep snows, I have
seen this bird, while it hung with its back downwards (to

* Tt is an interesting fact, as showing the care of the great Creator for his crea-
tures, that the berries of the misseltoe only ripen in the spring, when the hips,
haws, the berries of hollies and ivy have generally disappeared. Thus ina
prolonged winter many birds are kept from starving by means of the misseltoc,
which I never knew them to feed on till about the end of February or early
in March,—Ep.

++ See Dernam’s Physico-Theology, p. 235.

Tue Trrmouse,

IRELAND. 201

my no small delight and admiration), 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
numbers 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. When
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 be weil 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 wheat-ear and whin-chat support themselves in
winter, cannot be so easily ascertained, since they spend
their time on wild heaths and warrens, the former, especially,
where there are stone-quarries. Most probable it is, that
their maintenance arises from the aurelia of the lepidoptera
ordo, which furnish them with a plentiful table in the
wilderness.

LETTER LXV.

TO THE SAME,
SeBornE, Jfarch 9, 1775.

Drar Srr,—Some future faunist, a man of fortune, will, I
hope, extend his visits to the kingdom of Ireland;* a new

* Treland even still remains comparatively unexplored, except in its botanical
productions. The scolopax sabini, a new species of snipe, was, I may say,
accidentally discovered there, about three years since, of which specimens have
‘been subsequently got, confirming the identity of the species; and we have
every reason to expect some novelties, particularly in ichthyology and ento-
mology. Ledum palustre and papaver nudicale, are among the late
botanical discoverics.—W. J. Since this note was written, a “Natural His-

‘tory of Ireland”? has been undertaken by William Thompson, Esq. The
first two volumes, which are all yet published 1850), comprise the birds ;
and, as far as we can judge by this portion, the work will be a valuable
addition to our literature.

202 MAP OF SCOTLAND.

field, and a country little known to the naturalist. 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 ex-
pected within the British dominions. A person of a thinking
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 super-
stitions, their prejudices, their sordid way of life, will extort
from him many useful reflections. He should also take with
him an able draughtsman ; for he must, by no means, pass
over the noble castles and seats, the extensive and pic-
turesque lakes and water-falls, and the lofty, stupendous
mountains, so little known, and so engaging to the imagi-
nation, when described and exhibited in a lively manner.
Such a work would be well received.

As I have seen no modern map of Scotland, I cannot
pretend to say how accurate or particular any such may be;
but this I know, that the best old maps of oe kingdom are
very defective.

The great obvious defect that I have commie in all maps
of Scotland that have fallen in my way is, a 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 mountainous and romantic country
want to be well distinguished. The military roads formed
by General Wade are so great and Roman-like an under-
taking, that they well 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 zig-zag up the Coryarich must not be
passed over. Moll takes notice of Hamilton and Drumlanrig,
and such capital houses; but a new survey, no doubt, should
represent every seat and castle remarkable for any great
event, or celebrated for its paintings, &c. Lord Breadal-
bane’s seat and beautiful policy are too curious and extraor-
dinary to be omitted.

GOSSAMER. 203

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.

LETTER LXV.

TO THE HON. DAINES BARRINGTON.
SELBORNE, Jume 8, 1775.

Dear Srr,—On September the 21st, 1741, being then on.a
visit, and intent on field diversions, I rose before daybreak :
when I came into the enclosures, I found the stubbles and
clover grounds matted all over with a thick coat of cobweb,
in the meshes of which a copious 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 proceed,
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 produces,—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 ele-
vated regions, and continuing, without any interruption, till
the close of the day.

These webs are not single filmy threads, floating in the
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, he might
behold a continual succession of fresh flakes falling into his
sight, and twinkling like stars, as they turned their sides
towards the sun.

204 GOSSAMER,

How far this wonderful shower extended, 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 gentleman (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 thistle-down, 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 descend-
ing 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 observed ;
but on this day the flakes hung in the trees 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 appear-
ances, called gossamer, is, that strange and superstitious as
the notions about them were formerly, 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 aerial excursion, and why their webs should at once
become so gross and material as to be considerably more
weighty than air, and to descend with precipitation, is a
matter beyond my skill. IfI might be allowed to hazard a

* Dr. Lister, in his letters to Mr. Ray, says that on a day when the air was
very full of Gossamer, he mounted to the top of the highest part of York
minster, and found that the webs were still exceeding high above him.—See
Ray's Letters, p. 87.

Chaucer, speaking of gossamer as a strange phenomenon, says :—

“ As sore some wonder at the cause of thunder,
On ebb and flode, on gosomer, and mist ;
And on all thing, *till that the cause is wist.”

Dryden calls it, “ The filmy gossamer.”—Ep.

SOCIALITY OF BRUTES. — 205

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 region.
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 [see his Letters to Mr. Ray], then, when
they were become heavier than the air, they must fall.
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 alighted on my book as I was
‘reading in the parlour; and, running up to the top of the
age, and shooting out a web, took his 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 without the use of wings, and to move in
the air faster than the air itself.

LETTER LXVI.

TO THE SAME.
SeLporne, Aug. 15, 1775.
Dear Srr,—There is a wonderful spirit of sociality in the
brute creation, independent of sexual attachment: the con-
gregation 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 neighbour’s horse will not only
not stay by himself abroad, 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 ;
aud yet, in other respects, is remarkably quiet. Oxen and

206 ; SOCIALITY OF BRUYES.

cows will not fatten by themselves; but will neglect the
finest pasture that is not recommended by society. It would
be needless to instance in sheep, which constantly flock
together.

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 alittle 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 pur-
suers 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 fellowship. 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
incongruous 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 between these
two sequestered individuals. 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 circum-
spection, lest he should trample on his diminutive com-
panion. Thus, by mutual good offices, each seemed to con-
sole the vacant hours of the other: so that Milton, when he
puts the following sentiment in the mouth of Adam, seems
to be somewhat mistaken :—

“ Much less can bird with beast, or fish with fowl,
So well converse, nor with the ox the ape.”

* A gentleman in Scotland had a cock golden pheasant sent him, which he
confined in a pen with a solitary chicken which he happened to have. The
birds formed a great affection for each other, which they showed in a variety of
ways. The pheasant, however, died, and was immediately stuffed, and the
chicken turned loose. It appeared to be miserable after the death of its com-
panion, and happening to see it after the pheasant had been stuffed, it drooped
its wings after vainly attempting to get at it, and soon afterwards died.—Ep.

GIPSIES. 207

LETTER LXVITI.

TO THE SAME.

SELBORNE, Oct. 2, 1775.
Dear Srr,—We have two gangs, or hordes of gipsies, 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 somewhat remarkable. As far as their
harsh gibberish can be understood, they seem to say that the
name of their clan is Curleople. Now the termination of
this word is apparently Grecian; and, as Mezeray and the
gravest historians all agree that these vagrants did certainly
migrate from Egypt and the East, two or three centuries
ago,r 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 person
among them, to inquire whether, in their jargon, they still
retained 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 remains of
their native language might still be discovered.

With regard to these peculiar people, the gipsies, one
thing is very remarkable, and especially as they came from a
warmer climate, and that is, that while other beggars lodge
in barns, stables, and cow-houses, these sturdy savages seem
to pride themselves in braving the severities of winter, and
in living sub dio the whole year round. Last September was
as wet a month as ever was known; and yet, during those
deluges, did a young gipsy girl lie in the midst of one of our

* I remember asking a gipsy of the name of Stanley whether she was of
the Derby family. The woman was very indignant at the question, and stood
up for the antiquity of her family, as infinitely more ancient than that of
Derby.—Ep. ‘fF See Bonnow’s Gipsies

208 RUSH CANDLES.

hop-gardens, on the cold ground,* with nothing over her but
a piece of a blanket, extended on a tew hazel-rods bent hoop
fashion, and stuck into the earth at each end, in circumstances
too trying for a cow in the same condition; yet within this
garden there was a large hop-kiln, into the chambers of which
she might have retired, had she thought sheltcr an object
worthy her attention.

Europe itself, it seems, cannot set bounds to the rovings
of these vagabonds ; for Mr. Bell, in his return from Peking,
met a gang of these people on the confines of Tartary, who
were endeavouring to penetrate those deserts, and try their
fortune in China.t

Gipsies are called in French, Bohemians; in Italian and
modern Greek, Zingani.

LETTER LXVIII.

TO THE SAME.

© We ted pingues, hic plurimus ignis
Semper, et assidud postes fuligine nigri.”

’ Seiporne, Nov. 1, 1775.
I swat make no apology for troubling you with the detail
of avery simple piece of domestic economy, being satisfied
that you think nothing 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 sub-

* My kind old friend the late Dr. Fergusson, while residing at Windsor
was sent for to see a young gipsy girl who was very ill with the small-pox.
She was lying on the ground in the sort of tent Mr. White has described.
Dr. Fergusson wanted to have her removed to a house, but nothing could pre-
vail on the woman to leave her quarters. She eventually recovered, and for
years afterwards he received grateful visits from this woman and some of her
tribe to thank him for his kindness.—Eb.

+ See Bert's Zravels in China.

RUSH CANDLES. 209

ject with some degree of exactness, I shall proceed in my
humble story, and leave you to judge of the expediency.

The proper species of rush for this purpose seems to be
the juncus 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 the best condition in the
height of summer; but may be gathered, so,as to serve the
purpose well, quite on to autumn. It would be needless to
add, that the largest and longest are best. Decayed labour-
ers, women, and children, make it their business to procure
and prepare them. As soon as they are cut, they must be
flung into 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 dispatch, and seldom failing to strip them with the
nicest regularity. When these junci 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 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 over 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 com-
mon grease may be procured 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 would have the
same effect.

A good rush, which measured in length two feet four
inches and a half, being minuted, burnt only three minutes

P

210 RUSH CANDLES.

short of an hour; and a rush of still 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 caused to
be weighed and numbered, we found upwards of one thou-
sand 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. According to
this account, each rush, before dipping, cost one thirty-third
of a farthing, and one eleventh afterwards. Thus a poor
family will enjoy five and a half hours of comfortable light
for a farthing. An experienced old housekeeper 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
daylight.

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 economists, and there-
fore 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
we have seen no where else; that is, little neat besoms which
our foresters make from the stalks of the polytricum commune,
or great golden maiden-hair, which they call silk-wood, and
find plenty in the bogs.* When this moss is well combed
and dressed, and divested of its outer skin, it becomes of a
beautiful bright chestnut colour; and being soft and pliant,

* Very commonly used in Scotland for the same purposes, and also for
mats, or rugs, which are plaited together, leaving the tops sticking out for
two or three inches, and thus making both a warm and useful household
appendage.—W.. J.

PROPENSITY OF AN IDIOT BOY 21)

is very proper for the dusting of beds, curtains, carpets,
hangings, &c. If these besoms were known to the brush-
makers in town, it is probable they might come much in use
for the purpose above mentioned.*

LETTER LXTX.

TO THE SAME.

Sevporne, Dec. 12, 1775.-
Dear Srr,—We had in this village, more than twenty years
ago, an idiot boy, 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 faculties 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, were his prey wherever he
found them: he had no apprehensions from their stings, but
would seize them with naked hands, 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 apiaster, 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 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

* A besom of this sort is to be seen in Sir Ashton Lever’s museum.
P2

212 SUPERSTITIONS OF SELBORNE.

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 capacity
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,
Had thy presiding star propitious shonc,
Shouldst Wildman be.” *

When a tall youth, he was removed from hence to a
distant village, where he died, as I understand, before he
arrived at manhood.

LETTER LXX.

TO THE SAME.
Serzorne, Jan. 8, 1776.

Dear Sr1e,—lIt is the hardest thing in the world to shake
off superstitious prejudices: they are sucked in as it 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 interwoven into our very consti-
tutions, that the strongest good sense is required to disen-
gage 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 sus-

* Tt may not be generally known that Wildman’s celebrated work on becs
was written by Dr. Templeman, Secretary to the Society of Arts——Ep.

SUPERSTITIONS OF SELLORNE. 213

pected 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 super-
annuated 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 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 plastered 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 contmued to gape, the
operation, it was supposed, would prove ineffectual. Having
occasion to enlarge my garden not long since, I cut down
two or three such trees, one of which did not grow together.

We have several persons now living in the village, 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

* The popular superstitions extend even to inscets. A woman in my
neighbourhood told me that she had lost all her hives of bees, because she
had not tapped at each of the hives when her poor dcar husband died, to
announce his death to the bees, It is also a common custom to attach a small
picce of black cloth or crape in a.split stick and to fasten it on a hive
when the owner has died. The author of a Tour in Brittany says, that, “if
bees are kept at a house where a marriage feast is celebrated, care is always
taken to dress up their hives in red, which is done by placing upon them pieces
of scarlet cloth; the Bretons imagining that the bees would forsake their
dwellings if they were not made to participate in the rejoicings of their owners.
In the like manner they are all put into mourning when a death occurs in

the family.”—Eb.

214 SUPERSTITIONS OF SELBORNE.

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 suffermg animal is afflicted with cruel anguish, and
threatened with the loss of the use of the limb. Against
this accident, to which they were continually liable, our pro-
vident forefathers always kept a shrew-ash at hand, which,
when once medicated, would maintain its virtue for ever. A
shrew-ash was made thus:t—Into the body of the tree a
deep hole was bored with an auger, and a poor devoted
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 exist in the manor or hundred.
As to that on the Plestor,

“ The late vicar stubb’d and burnt it,”

when he was way-warden, regardless of the remonstrances of
the by-standers, who interceded in vain for its preservation,
urging its power and efficacy, and alleging that it had been

“ Religione patrum multos servata per annos.”

With reverential awe preserved for years.

* They were supposed, also, to be particularly injurious to horses. “When
a horse in the fields happened to be suddenly seized with anything like a
numbness in his legs, he was immediately judged by the old persons to be
either planet-struck, or shrew-struck. The mode of cure which they pre-
scribed, and which they considered in all cases as infallible, was to drag the
animal through a piece of bramble that grew at both ends.””—Binecey’s
Memoirs of British Quadrupeds.—Cats will kill shrews, but will not eat
them.— W. J.

+ For a similar practice, see Pror’s Staffordshire.

DRIPPING OF TREES. 215

LETTER LXXI.

TO THE SAME.

Sevporne, Jeb. 7, 1776.
Dear S1r,—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 condensing 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, on a misty day, a particular oak in leaf dropped so fast
that the cart-way 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
habitable by condensation alone.

Trees in leaf have such a vast proportion more of surface
than those that are naked, that, in theory, their condensa-
tions should greatly exceed those that are stripped of their
leaves ; but, as the former imbibe also a great quantity of
moisture, it is difficult to say which drip most: but this I
know, that deciduous trees, that are entwined with much
ivy, seem to distil the greatest quantity. Ivy leaves are
smooth, and thick, and cold, and therefore condense ver
fast; and besides, evergreens imbibe very little.* These

* It has been supposed that trees, by condensing in moisture of the air
in foggy weather, materially affect the climate, and that thickly wooded
couutries must necessarily be colder and more humid than waked savannahs.
There can be little doubt that such is the case. When some North American
Indians made the discovery that the wild cattle of the prairies got amidst the
smoke of a burning forest to drive away the flies, they set fire to large tracts

216 PONDS ON MILLS.

facts may furnish the intelligent with hints concerning what
sorts of trees they should plant round small ponds that they
would wish to be perennial; and show them how advan-
tageous some trees are in preference to others.

Trees perspire profusely, condense largely, and check eva-
poration 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 morasses, no doubt for the
reason given above. :

To a thinking mind, few phenomena are more strange
than the state of little ponds on the summits 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 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 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 im this dis-
trict; 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 containing perhaps not more than two or
three hundred hogsheads of water, yet never is known to
fail, though it affords drink for three hundred or four hundred
sheep, and for at least twenty head of large cattle besides.
This pond, it is true, is overhung with two moderate beeches,
that, doubtless, at times afford it much supply; but then we
have others as small, that, without the aid of trees, and in

in order the more readily to destroy the buffaloes. The consequence was that
light and air penetrated the forests, the snow melted rapidly, and it has
materially altered the climate of the vast regions of North America. Sec
Sir Francis Heav’s Emigrant.—Ep.

* Vide Katm’s Travels to North America.

THE CUCKOO. 217

spite of evaporation from sun and wind, and perpetual con-
sumption by cattle, yet constantly maintain 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 on 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, 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 necessary to enter more minutely into the cause.
Dr. Hales, in his Vegetable Statics, advances, from experi-
ment, 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 an equal surface of moist earth.” Hence we see that
water, by its coolness, is enabled to assimilate 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 resource. 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.

LETTER LXXII.

TO THE SAME.
SELBoRNE, April 8, 1776.

Dear Srr,—Monsieur Herissant, a French anatomist, seems
ersuaded that he has discovered the reason why cuckoos *
do not hatch their own eggs; the impediment, he supposes,

* The cuckoo is the largest of insectivorous birds, and must require a great

218 THE CUCKOO,

arises from the internal structure of their parts, which inca-
pacitates them for incubation. 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 galline,
columbe, &c., but immediately behind it, on and over the
bowels, so as to make a large protuberance 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 mentioned above. This
stomach was large and round, and stuffed hard, like a pin-
cushion, with food, which, upon nice examination, we found
to consist of various insects, such as small scarabs, spiders,
and dragon-flies—the last of which we have seen cuckoos
catching 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 goose-
berries, currants, cranberries, or some such fruit; so that
these birds apparently subsist on insects and fruits ; nor was
there the least appearance of bones, feathers, or fur, to sup-
port the idle notion of their being birds of prey.t

The sternum in this bird seemed to us to be remarkably
short, between which and the anus lay the crop, or craw,
and immediately behind that the bowels, against the back-
bone.

It must be allowed, as this anatomist observes, that the
crop,t placed just below the bowels, must, especially when

, be in a very uneasy situation during the business of

quantity of food; to obtain which they must, like the swallow, be in constant
search of it. If they sat on their eggs, therefore, how is this necessary supply
to be obtained? The eggs would be chilled while they were on the
wing.—Eb.

* Histoire de VAcademie Royale, 1752.

+ When these birds have fed much on some of the large hairy caterpillars
so common on the northern muirs, the stomach becomes filled and coated with
the short hairs, which may have assisted in raising the opinion that they feed
on small animals.—W. J.

t+ “The cuckoo,’ Mr. Owen says, “has no true crop, and the situation of
its proventiculus does not differ from that of other scansorial birds; the
cesophagus descends along the posterior or dorsal part of the thorax, inclining
to the side, and, when opposite to the lower margin of the left lung, it
begins to expand into the glandular cavity or proventiculus. The gizzard,
which is neither large or strong, is in immediate contact with the abdominal
parietes, not separated from them by an intervening stratum of intestines;

THE VIPER. 219

incubation ; yet the test will be, to examine whether birds
that are actually known to sit for certain, are not formed in
a similar manner. This inquiry I proposed to myself ‘to
make with a fern-owl, or goat-sucker, as soon as opportunity
offered; because, if their information 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
habits and shape, we suspected might resemble the cuckoo
in its internal construction. Nor were our suspicions ill
grounded ; for, upon the dissection, 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 phalene, moths of several sorts, and their
eggs, which, no doubt, had been forced out of these insects
by the action of swallowing. ;

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 conjecture that cuckoos are
incapable of incubation from the disposition of their intes-
tines, seems to fall to the ground; and we are still at a loss
for the cause of that strange and singular peculiarity in the
instance of the cuculus canorus.

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 granivorous.

LETTER LXXTITI.

TO THE SAME.
SeLBorneE, April 29, 1776.
Derar Srr,—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

but this position cannot be supposed to interfere with the power of incuba-
tion, since it occurs also in other birds that do incubate, as the owl and
Caryocatacles.” ,

220 THE VIPER.

number; the shortest of which measured full seven inches,
and were about the size of full-grown earth-worms. This
little fry issued into the world with the true viper spirit
about them, showing great alertness as soon as disengaged
from 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 defi-
ance, 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 animals 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
adversary before his spurs are grown, and a calf or 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.

* The very circumstance which Mr. White mentions, of the young vipers
being fully seven inches in length, proves that they had been in the open air
before, as they have been known to leave the stomach of the dam when they
have been from one to two inches in length. From various facts commu-
nicated to me by viper-catchers and others, I can have no doubt but that the
young vipers, when alarmed, take refuge in the inside of the parent, who
extends her mouth for the purpose,—Eb.

CASTRATION.

tr
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be

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LETTER LXXIV.
TO THE SAME.

Casrration 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 hips, 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 ina 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
chickens like hens. Barrow-hogs have also small tusks,
like sows.

Thus far it is plain, that the deprivation of masculine
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 husbandry, carries it much further ;
for he says that the loss of those insignia alone has some-
times a strange effect on the ability itself. He had a boar
so fierce and veuereous 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 hun, and
he neglected those females to whom before he was passicn-
ately attached, and from whom no fences could restrain
him.+ :

* This is not the case if the spermatic cord has been separated. It equally
emasculates the animal, but the horns remain as before the operation.—Ep.

+ I apprehend this remark to be erroneous, as I have known the tusks of
many dangerous boars sawn off, for safety, without any such consequence
following. I have seen them, however, no longer able to command the
monopoly of the sows, as the young boars were no longer afraid of them,
—Mr. Setts.

222 THE HOG,

LETTER LXXYV.
TO THE SAME.

Tue natural term of a hog’s life is little known, and the
reason is plain—because it is neither profitable nor conve-
nient to keep that turbulent animal to the full extent of its
time; however, my neighbour, a man of substance, who had
no occasion to study every little advantage to a nicety, kept
a half-bed 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 she found occasion to converse with a
boar, she used to open all the intervening gates, and march,
by herself, 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 computation, 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.

Tue Common or Domestic Hoc. (Sus sevo/a.)

AFFECTION IN A CAT. 228

LETTER LXXVI.

TO THE SAME.
SetporneE, May 9, 1776.

Admérunt ubera tigres.””

Dear Srr,—We have remarked in a former letter how much
incongruous animals, in a lonely state, may be attached to
each other from a spirit of sociality ; in this, it may not be
amiss to recount a different motive, 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, and about the
same time, his cat kittened, and the young were dispatched
and buried. The hare was soon lost, and supposed to be
gone the way of most foundlings, to be killed by some dog
or cat. However, 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 inward notes of complacency, such as they use
towards their kittens, and something gamboling after, which
proved to be the leveret that the cat had supported with her
milk, and continued to support with great afiection.*

* About two years since, at a cottar’s house in Annandale, Dumfries-shire,
a litter of pigs by some accident lost their mother; at the same time a pointer
bitch happened to pup, and the puppies suffering the lot common to most such,
their place was supplied by the pigs, which were well and affectionately nursed
by their foster-parent— W. J., 1829.

It has been most beautifully and providentially ordered that the process of
suckling their young is as pleasurable to the parent animal, as it is essential to
the support of the infant progeny, The mamme of animals become painful
when over distended with milk. Drawing off that fluid removes positive
une; iness, and affords positive pleasure. The nipple, previously soft and
flacc. ., becomes, on the young beginning to suck, enlarged, firm, and erect, and
the flowing of the milk is accompanied by an exquisitely pleasing sensation.
The nipple is highly organised, and becomes enlarged on application of slight
friction, and by a kind of spasmodic action will sometimes throw out the

224 WORMS.

Thus was a graminivorous animal nurtured by a carnivorous
and predaceous one!

Why so cruel and sanguinary a beast as a cat, of the fero-
cious genus of felis, the murium leo, “the lion of mice,” as
Linneus 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 com-
placency and ease she derived to herself from procuring her
teats to be drawn, which were too much distended with
milk; till, from habit, she became as much delighted with
this foundling, as if it had been her real offspring.

This incident is no bad solution of that strange cireum-
stance which grave historians, as well as the 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 marvellous that Romulus and Remus, in
their infant state, should be nursed by a she-wolf, than that
a poor little sucking leveret should be fostered and cherished
by a bloody grimalkin.

LETTER LXXVII.

TO THE SAME.

Serzorne, May 20, 1777.
Dear Srr,—Lands that are subject to frequent inundations
are always poor; and, probably, the reason may be, because
the worms are drowned. The most insignificant insects and
reptiles are of much more consequence, and have much more
influence in the economy of Nature, than the incurious are
aware of ; and are mighty in their effect, from their minute-
ness, which renders them less an object of attention; and

milk in jets. I once saw a young panther suckled by a bitch, and last yeax
I had w kitten who was often to be seen sucking a spaniel bitch. Many
other instances might be brought forward.—Ep.

WORMS, 225

from their numbers and fecundity. Earth-worms, 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 entirely supported by them, worms seem
to be the great promoters of vegetation, which would proceed
but lamely without them, by boring, perforating, and loosen-
ing the soil, and rendering it pervious to rains and the fibres
of plants, by drawing straws and stalks of leaves into it;
and, most of all, by throwing up such infinite numbers of
lumps of earth, called worm-casts, which being their excre-
ment, is a fine manure for grain and grass.t Worms pro-

* The following interesting account of the earth-worm was communicated
to me by an intelligent correspondent :—* On Tuesday night, February 3rd,
1836, we had the deepest snow which has fallen for the winter; though not
to be compared with what fell in the west, and in other parts of England.
As on other occasions we observed the blackbirds and thrushes drawing up to
the house, and cowering as if to give notice of a coming storm. On the
following morning, on looking out of window we noticed an unusual appear-
ance. At first sight it seemed as if the unsullied snow had many little twigs
or sticks scattered all over its surface. On closer inspection it proved that
numbers of large earth-worms were writhing on the face of the snow, and
they furnished a rich repast for the birds to breakfast on, so that some of our
usual visitors forsook their crumbs under the verandah. What circumstances
can have induced these earth-worms to leave their holes and to be found in
such an uncongenial station, we cannot imagine. Perhaps, as the evening was
mild and moist they may have sallied forth, and the snow, coming suddenly,
may have prevented their finding their way to their homes. But why mount
to the surface and expose themselves to certain death! The recollection of
this phenomenon is still fresh in our memories, and when I recalled it to a
sister who was with us, she spoke of it with disgust, as like a Jayer of flesh
upon the snow. But I have never had the causes clearly explained, nor am
I sufficiently acquainted with the habits of earth-worms to do so. As far as
I have observed they never leave their holes, unless something is the matter.
You have probably observed on a mild moist evening, when they bask on
the turf, and dart into their holes with infinite vivacity, that they always
retain possession at one extremity. J have found that if I have snatched
one from his hold, I could not restore it again. The poor creature was quite
Jost, and could neither find his way home himself or be replaced in it by me.
Am I right in supposing that they never voluntarily leave their holes? Or
do they wander forth in the depth of the night, and in the case described
above, were they excluded by the sudden fall of snow and change of tem-
perature ? ”—Ep.

+ The runs, also, made by worms in the earth, enables the water to per-
colate to the roots of wheat and other grain. Worm-casts, when collected
are an excellent soil for many flowers, such as carnations, pinks, &«.—Epb.

226 WORMS.

bably provide new soils for hills and slopes where the rain
washes the earth way; and they affect slopes, probably, to
avoid being flooded. Gardeners and farmers express their
detestation of worms ;* the former, because they render their
walks unsightly, and make them much work: and the latter,
because, as they think, worms eat their green corn. Bus
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 coleoptera
(scarabs), and ¢ipule (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.

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 much enter-

* We are indebted to Charles Darwin, Esq., for a remarkable and interest-
jing memoir on the utility of the earth-worm, read before the Geological
Society. The worm-casts, which so much annoy the gardener by deforming
his smooth-shaven lawns, are of no small importance to the agriculturist; and
this despised creature is not only of great service in loosening the earth, and
rendering it permeable by air and water, but is also a most active and power-
ful agent in adding to the depth of the sol, and in covering comparatively
barren tracts with a superficial layer of wholesome mould. The author's
attention was directed by Mr. Wedgwood, of Maer Hall, Staffordshire, to
several fields, some of which had a few years before been covered with lime,
and others with burnt marl and cinders, which substances in every case are
now buried to the depth of some inches below the turf, just as if, as the
farmers believe, the particles had worked themselves down. After showing
the impossibility of this supposed operation, the author affirms that the whole
is due to the digestive process by which the common earth-worm is sup-
ported; since, on carefully examining between the blades of grass in the fields
above-mentioned, he found that there was scarcely a space of two inches
square without a little heap of cylindrical castings of worms; it being well
known that worms swallow the earthy matter, and that having separated the
serviceable portion, they eject at the mouth of their burrows the remainder in
little intestine-shaped heaps. Still more recently Mr. Darwin has noticed a
more remarkable instance of this kind, in which, in the course of eighty years,
the earth-worm had covered a field then manured with marl, with a bed of
earth, averaging thirteen inches in thickness.

+ Farmer Young, of Norton-farm, says, that this spring (1777) 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 fast as it sprang.

Worms. (Vermes.)

TORPIDITY, OF SWALLOWS. 227

tainment, 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 ; are out every mild night in tlie winter, as any per-
son may be convinced that will take the pains to examine
his grass plots with a candle; are hermaphrodites, and much
addicted to venery, and consequently very prolific.

LETTER LXXVIII.

TO THE SAME.
Srrzorne, Nov. 22, 1777.
Dear Srr,—You cannot but remember that the 26th and
27th of last March were very hot days; so sultry, that every
body complained, and were restless under those sensations to
which they had not been reconciled by gradual approaches.

This sudden summer-like heat was attended by many sum-
mer 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, 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.

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 insects withdrew, the tortoise
retired 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 Octo-
ber; so that a person not very observant 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 discovered themselves again in the first week of
November, and often on the fourth day of that sar only

Q

228 LEPROSY.

for one day; and that not as if they were in actual migra-
tion, 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 pre-
ceding day was wet and blustering, but the fourth was dark,
and mild, and soft, the wind at south-west, and the thermo-
meter at 584, a pitch not common at that season of the year.
Moreover, 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 quadrupeds, are awakened
from their profoundest slumbers by a little untimely warmth,
and, therefore, that nothing so much promotes this death-
like stupor as a defect of heat. And, farther, it is reasonable
to suppose, that two whole species, or at least many indivi-
duals of these two species of British hirundines, do never
leave this island at all, but partake 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.

LETTER LXXIxX.

TO THE SAME.
SELBorne, Jan. 8, 1778.
Dear Srr,—There was in this little 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 kind, since it
affected only the palms of his hands and the soles of his feet.

LEPROSY. 229

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 tender that neither his hands nor his feet were able
to perform their functions ; so that the poor object was half
his time on crutches, incapable of employ, and languish-
ing in a tiresome state of indolence and inactivity. His
habit was lean, lank, and cadaverous. In this sad plight he
dragged on a miserable existence, 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. We knew his parents,
neither of whom were lepers; his father, in particular, lived
to be far advanced 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 injunctions given them in the Levitical
law.* Nor was the rancour of this foul disorder much abated
in the last period of their commonwealth, as may be seen in
many passages of the New Testament. —

Some centuries ago, this horrible distemper prevailed all
over Europe; and our forefathers were by no means exempt,
as appears by the large provision made for objects labouring
under this calamity. There was an hospital for female
lepers in the diocese 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, be-
queathed 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 is now a rare sight. He will, more-
over, when engaged in such a train of thought, naturally

* Sce Leviticus, chap. xiii. and xiv.

230 LEPROSY.

inquire for the reason. This happy change, perhaps, may
have originated 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 in every family. Three or
four centuries ago, before there were any enclosures, sown
grasses, field turnips, or field carrots, or hay, all the cattle
that had grown fat in summer, and were not killed for
winter 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 marvel-
lous account of the vast stores of salted flesh found in the
larder of the eldest Spencer,* in the days of Edward the
Second, even so late in the spring as the 8d of May. It was
from magazines like these that the turbulent barons supported
in idleness their riotous swarms of retainers, ready for any
disorder or mischief. But agriculture has now arrived at
such a pitch of perfection, that our best and fattest meats are
killed in the winter; and no man needs eat salted flesh,
unless he prefer it, that has money to buy fresh.

One cause of this distemper might be, no doubt, the
quantity of wretched fresh and salt fish consumed by the
commonalty at all seasons, as well as in Lent, which our
poor now would hardly be persuaded to touch.

The use of linen changes, shifts or shirts, in the room of
sordid or filthy woollen, long worn next the skin, is a matter
of neatness comparatively modern, 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 subject to foul eruptions.

The plenty of good wheaten bread that now is found
among all ranks of people in the south, instead of that miser-
able 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 cutaneous disorders, from a wretchedness and
poverty of diet.

* ‘Viz, six hundred bacons, eighty carcasses of beef, and six hundred
muttons.

GARDENS. 231

As to the produce of a garden, every middled-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, while gardeners get for-
tunes. Every decent labourer also 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 hinds 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 dependents. 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 cultivation of gardens was little
attended to. The religious, being men of leisure, and keep-
ing up a constant correspondence with Italy, were the first
people among us who had gardens and fruit-trees in any
perfection, within the walls of their abbeys* and priories.
The barons 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 gardening made such hasty
advances. Lord Cobham, Lord Ila, and Mr. Waller, of
Beaconsfield, were some of the first people of rank that pro-
moted the elegant science of ornamenting, without despis-
ing the superintendence of the kitchen quarters and fruit
walls.

A remark made by the excellent Mr. Ray in his Zour of
Europe, at once surprises us, and corroborates 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.

* “Tn, monasteries, the lamp of knowledge continued to burn, however
dimly. In them, men of business were formed for the state. The art of
writing was cultivated by the monks; they were the only proficients in
mechanics, gardening, and architecture.”—See Darrympze’s Annals of
Scotland.

232 ECHOES.

seller (celery), which is nothing else but the sweet small-
age, the young shoots whereof, with a little of the head of
the root cut off, they eat.raw with oil and pepper.” And
further, 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.

LETTER LXXxX.

TO THE SAME.
Se.porne, Feb. 12, 1778,
“ Forté puer, comitum seductus ab agmine fido,
Dixerat, ecquis adest? et, adest, responderat echo.
Hic stupet ; utque aciem partes divisit in omnes;
Voce, veni, clamat magna. Vocat illa vocantem.”

Dzar Srr,—In a district so diversified as this, so full of
hollow vales and hanging woods, it is no wonder that echoes
should abound. Many we haye discovered, that return the
ery of a pack of dogs, the notes of a hunting horn, a tunable
ring of bells, or the melody of birds, very agreeably ; but we
were still at a loss for a polysyllabical articulate echo, till
a young gentleman, who had parted from his company in a
summer evening walk, and was calling after them, stumbled
upon a very curious one in a spot where it might least be
expected. At first he was much surprised, and could not be
persuaded but that he was mocked by some boys; but,
repeating his trials in several languages, and finding his
respondent to be a very adroit polyglot, he then discerned
the deception.

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 patule recubans ——”

were as audibly and intelligibly returned as the first; and

ECHOES. 233

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
inconvenient.

Quick dactyls, we observed, succeeded best; for when we
came to try its powers in slow, heavy, embarrassed spondees
of the same number of syllables,

“ Monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens ——”

we could perceive a return of but 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
woods or vales; because, in the latter, the voice is as it were
entangled, and embarrassed in the covert, and weakened in
the rebound.

The true object 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 centrum phonicum, or just distance,
is one particular spot in the King’s Field, in the path to
Norehill, 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 imme-
diately, if the speaker either retires or advances, that his
mouth would at once be above or below the object.

We measured this polysyllabical echo with great exact-
ness, and found the distance to fall very short of Dr. Plot’s
rule for distant 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;
whereas 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 acknowledged, that this
candid philosopher was convinced afterwards, that some

234 ECHOES.

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 evening, |
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 she has
been the occasion of many a beautiful fiction. Nor need the
gravest man be ashamed to appear taken with such a pheno-
menon, 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 annoy-
ances, such as prudent owners would wish far removed from
their bee-gardens, he adds,

“ Aut ubi concava pulsu
Saxa sonant, vocisque offensa resultat imago.”

Or where the hollow rocks emit a sound,
And echoed voices from the cliffs rebound.

This wild and fanciful assertion will hardly be admitted
by the philosophers of these days, especially 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 1s possible they may. Yet that these
impressions are distasteful or hurtful I deny, because bees,
in good summers, thrive well in my outlet, where the echoes
are very strong; for this village is another Anathoth, a

* Bees certainly utter a murmuring sound when their hives have been
tapped in the still of the evening as I have frequently ascertained. The chirp-
ing of the house-cricket is probably to induce the female to come to it.—Ep.

ECHOES. 235

place of responses, or echoes. Besides, it does not appear
from experiment that bees are 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 become totally
silent, the object or hop-kiln remains: nor is there any
mystery in this 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 disappoint-
ment is the same; because a tall quick-set hedge, nurtured
up for the purpose of shelter to the hop-ground, entirely
interrupts the impulse and 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 pleasant 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 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 seat at
the phonic centre, 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

_ * Que nec reticere loquenti.
Nec prior ipsa loqui, didicit resonabilis echo.”

The vocal echo ne’er withholds reply,
But ne'er intrudes.

P.S. The classic reader will, I trust, pardon the following
lovely quotation, so finely describing echoes, and so poetically
accounting for their causes from popular superstition.

236 ECHOES.

“ Que bené quom videas, rationem reddere possis
Tute tibi atque aliis, quo pacto per loca sola
Saxa pareis formas verborum ex ordine reddant,
Palanteis comites quom monteis inter opacos
Querimus, et magn4 dispersos voce ciemus.
Sex etiam, aut septem loca vidi reddere voces
Unam quom jaceres: ita colles collibus ipsis
Verba repulsantes iterabant dicta referre.
Hee loca capripedes Satyros, Nymphasque tenere
Finitimi fingunt, et Faunos esse loquuntur ; -
Quorum noctivago strepitu, ludoque jocanti
Adfirmant volgo taciturna silentia rumpi,
Chordarumque sonos fieri, dulceisque querelas,
Tibia quas fundit digitis pulsata canentum ;
Et genus agricolim laté sentiscere, quaom Pan
Pinea semiferi capitis velamina quassans,
Unco sepe labro calamos percurrit hianteis,
Fistula silvestrem ne cesset fundere musam.”

Lucretius, lib. iv. 1. 576.

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-bung lip he blows his oaken reed:

The horned, the half-beast god, when brisk and gay,
With pine-leaves crowned, provokes the swains to play.

Tar Swirr

SWILFTS. 237

LETTER LXXXI.

TO THE SAME.

SerpornE, May 13, 1778,
Dear Srr,—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 widely distributed over the village, that it
is hardly possible to recount them; while the swifts, though
they do not all build in the church, yet so frequently haunt
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
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 annually of this
increase ? and what determines, every spring, which pairs

shall visit us, and re-occupy their ancient haunts ? *
Ever since I have attended to the subject of ornithology,
I have always supposed that the sudden reverse of affection,
that strange dyricrépyn, which immediately succeeds in the
feathered kind to the most passionate fondness, is the occa-
sion of an equal dispersion of birds over the face of the earth.
Without this provision, one favourite district would be
crowded with inhabitants, while others would be destitute
and forsaken. But the parent birds seem to. maintain
a jealous superiority, 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. Whe-
ther the swallows and house-martins return in the same
exact number annually is not easy to say, for reasons given

* Swifts, swallows, and martins are perhaps, from their rapid flight, less
preyed upon than any other small birds. Numbers of them undoubtedly
perish during the progress of their two annual migrations.—Ep.

238 BOTANY.

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.

LETTER LXXXII.

TO THE SAME.

SELBORNE, June 2, 1778,
Dear Sir,—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 systematic classification, the charge is but tvo
true. But the botanist that is desirous of wiping off this
aspersion, should be by no means content with a list of
names; he should study plants philosophically, should inves-
tigate the laws of vegetation, should examine the powers and
virtues of efficacious herbs, should promote their cultivation,
and graft the gardener, the planter, and the husbandman on
the phytologist. 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 mankind, and productive of
many of the greatest comforts and elegancies of life. To
plants we owe timber, bread, beer, honey, wine, oil, linen,
cotton, &c.—what not only strengthens our hearts, and
exhilarates our spirits, but what secures us from inclemencies
of weather, and adorns our persons. Man, in 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 upon his own species.*

* See the late voyages to the South Seas,

BOTANY OF SELBORNE. 239

The productions of vegetation have had a vast’ influence
on the commerce of nations, and have been the great pro-
moters of navigation, as may be seen in the articles of sugar,
tea, tobacco, opium, ginseng, betel, pepper, &c. As every
climate has its peculiar produce, our natural wants bring a
mutual intercourse: 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 Pera.

Instead of examining the minute distinctions of every
various species of each obscure genus, the botanist shoula
endeavour to make himself acquainted 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 grazier seem to distin-
guish the annual from the perennial,the hardy from the tender,
nor the succulent and nutritive from the dry and juiceless.

The study of grasses would be of great consequence to a
northerly and grazing kingdom. The botanist that could
improve the sward of the district where he lived, would be
an useful member of society : to raise a thick turf on anaked
soil, would be worth volumes of systematic knowledge ; and
he would be the best commonwealth’s man that could occa-
sion the growth of “two blades of grass where one alone
was seen before.”

LETTER LXXXTII.

TO THE SAME.
Sexporne, July 3, 1778.
Dear Srr,—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 cham-

240 BOTANY OF SELBORNE.

paign fields, cannot but furnish an ample flora. The deep
rocky lanes abound with jilices, and the pastures and moist
woods with fungi. If in any branch of botany we may seem
to be wanting, it must be in the large aquatic plants, which
are not to be expected on a spot far removed from rivers, and
lying up amidst the hill-country at the spring-heads. To
enumerate all the plants that have been discovered within
our limits, would be a needless work; but a short list of
the more rare, and the spots where they are to be found, may
neither be unacceptable nor unentertaiming.

Helleborus fotidus, stinking hellebore, bear’s-foot, or
setterwort—all over the Highwood and Coneycroft-hanger ;
this ‘continues a great 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.

Helleborus viridis, green hellebore—in the deep stony lane,
on the left hand just before the turning to Norton farm, and
at the top of Middle Dorton under the edge; this plant dies
down to the ground early in autumn, and springs again about
February, flowering almost as soon as it appears above ground.

Vaccinium oxycoccus, creeping bilberries, or cranberries—
in the bogs of Bin’s pond;

Vaccinium myrtillus, whortle, or bilberries—on the dry
hillocks of Wolmer Forest ;

Drosera rotundifolia, round-leaved sundew—in the bogs
of Bin’s-pond ;

Drosera longifolia,* long-leaved sundew—in the bogs of
Bin’s-pond. ‘;

Comarum palustre, purple comarum, or marsh cinque-foil
—in the bogs of Bin’s-pond.

Hypericum androsemum, Tutsan, St. John’s wort—in the
stony, hollow lanes ;

Vinca minor, less periwinkle—in Selborne-hanger and
Shrub-wood ;

Monatropa hypopithys, yellow monotropa, or bird’s-nest—
in Selborne-hanger under the shady beeches, to whose roots
it seems to be parasitical—at the north-west end of: the
Hanger ;

* Should this not have been Drosera Anglica?-—W.J,

VERNAL AND AUTUMNAL CROCUS. 241

Chlora perfoliata, Blackstonia perfoliata, Hudsoni, perfo-
liated yellow-wort—on the banks in the King’s Field;

Paris quadrifolia, herb Paris, true love, or one-berry—
in the Church-litten coppice ;

Chrysosplenium oppositifolium, opposite golden saxifrage
—in the dark and rocky hollow lanes ;

Gentiana amarella, aitumnal gentian, or fellwort—on the
Zig-zag and Hanger ;

Lathrea squammaria,tooth-wort—in the Church-litten cop-
pice, under some hazels near the foot-bridge, in Trimming’s
garden hedge, and on the dry wall opposite Grange-yard ;

Dipsacus pilosus, small teasel—in the Short and Long Lith;

Lathyrus sylvestris, narrow-leayed, or wild lathyrus—in
the bushes at the foot of the Short Lith, nedr the path ;

Ophrys spiralis, ladies’ traces—in the Long Lith, and
towards the south corner of the common ;

Ophrys nidus avis, bird’s nest ophrys—in the Long Lith,
under the shady beeches among the dead leaves, in Great
Dorton among the bushes, and on the Hanger plentifully ;

Serapias latifolia, helleborme—in the Highwood under
the shady beeches ;

Daphne laureola, spurge-laurel—in Selborne-hanger and
the High-wood ;

Daphne mezereum, the mezereon—in Selborne-hanger,
among the shrubs at the south-east end, above the cottages; |

Lycoperdon tuber, trufles—in the Hanger and High-wood ;

Sambucus ebulus, dwarf-elder, wal-wort, or dane-wort—
among the rubbish and ruined foundations of the Priory.

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 helleborus
fetidus and helleborus niger blowing at Christmas, the heille-
borus hyemalis in January, and the helleborus viridis 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 vege-
tables differ so widely in their time of flowering, that we
cannot but admire. I shall only instance at present in the

R

242 FLIGHT OF BIRDS.

srocus sativus, 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 difference in the
corolla, or in the internal structure. Yet the vernal crocus
expands its flowers by the beginning of March at farthest,
and often in very rigorous weather ; and 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 ought not
to be overlooked on account of its being familiar, since it
would be as difficult to be explained as the most stupen-
dous phenomenon in nature.

“ Say, what impels, amidst surrounding snow
Congeal’d, the crocus’ flamy bud to glow?
Say, what retards, amidst the summer’s blaze,
Th’ autumnal bulb, till pale, declining days?
The Gop of Srasons; whose pervading power
Controls the sun, or sheds the fleecy shower :
He bids each flower his quickening word obey,
Or to each lingering bloom enjoins delay.”

LETTER LXXXIV.

TO THE SAME.
Sriporne, Aug. 7, 1778.

“ Omnibus animalibus reliquis certus et uniusmodi, et in suo cuique genere
incessus est; aves sole vario meatu feruntur, et in terra, et in dere.”——-Piin.

Hist. Nat. lib. x. cap. 38. ‘

All other animals have a certain, definite, and peculiar gait; birds alone
move in a varied manner both on the, ground and in the air.

Deaz Srr,—A good ornithologist should be able to distin-
guish birds by their air, as well as by their colours 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

Tur Kite. (Falco Milvus.)

FLIGHT OF BIRDS. 243

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 motion,

“ Et vera incessw patuit.’
And it is truly declared by its gait.

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, gleads, from.the Saxon verb glidan, to glide. The
kestrel, or windhover, has a peculiar mode of hanging in the
air in one place, his wings all the while beimg briskly
agitated.t 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, frequently turn on their backs with a loud croak,
and seem to be falling on the ground. When this odd.
gesture betides them, they are scratching themselves with
one foot, and thus lose the centre of gravity. Rooks some-
times dive and tumble in a frolicsome manner ;+ crows and
daws swagger in their walk ; woodpeckers fly volatu wndoso,
opening and closing their wings at every stroke, and so

* This sailing round in circles, with wings expanded, and apparently quite
motionless, is very curious and difficult to understand. A friend tells me
that he has frequently watched the flight of the carrion crow (Vultur Aura),
both in Africa and the West Indies, where, as in all tropical countries, they
abound, and are invaluable. This bird soars at very great heights—at one
moment it seems stationary, and at another it sweeps round in large circles
without the smallest visible motion of the wings, the wind blowing steadily
from one point. How are these circles completed against the wind without
perceptible muscular exertion ?—Ep.

t+ “The hawk proineth,” says the new glossary to Chaucer; that is, pricketh
or dresseth her feathers. From hence the word preen, a term in ornithology,
when birds adjust and oil their feathers.—Ep.

+ In some parts of Scotland, that is said and believed to be the forerunner
of stormy weather.—W. J.
: ‘ n2

244 FLIGHT OF BIRDS.

are always rising and falling in curves. All of this genus
use their tails, which incline downwards, 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 ridiculous caution.
All the galling 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 dispatch ; 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 smiters,
have a way of clashing their wings, the one against the other,
over their backs, with a loud snap; another variety, called
tumblers, turn themselves over in the air. Some birds have’
movements 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 a windhover; 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-suckers, glance
in the dusk over the tops of trees like a meteor; starlings,
-as 1b were, swim along, while missel-thrushes use a wild and
desultory flight; swallows sweep over the surface of the
ground and water, and distinguish themselves by rapid turns
and quick evolutions ; swifts dash round in circles; and the
bank-martin moves with frequent vacillations like a butterfly.
Most of the small birds fly by jerks, rising and falling as they
advance. Most small birds hop; but wagtails and larks
walk, moving their legs alternately. Sky-larks rise and fall
perpendicularly as they sing ; woodlarks hang poised in the
air; and tit-larks rise and fall in large curves, singing in
their descent. The white-throat uses odd jerks and gesticu-
lations over the tops of hedges and bushes. All the duck
kind waddle; divers and auks walk as if fettered, and stand

* When herons saz over their nests, when disturbed from them, they use
their long legs as rudders in making their gyrations. They sometimes only
use one leg, at others both. In a straight flight the head rests between the
ehoulders and the legs are extended together.—Ep,

LANGUAGE OF BIRDS. 24.5

erect on their tails; these are the compedes of Linneus.
Geese and cranes, and most wild fowls, move in figured
flights, often changing their position. The secondary remiges
of Tring, wild ducks, and some others, are very long, and
give their wings, when in motion, an hooked appearance.
Dabchicks, moor-hens, and coots,* fly erect, with their legs
hanging down, and hardly make any dispatch ; the reason is
plain, their wings are placed too forward out of the true
centre of gravity ; as the legs of auks and divers are situated
too backward.

LETTER LXXXYV.

TO THE SAME.

SeLBornE, Sept. 9, 1778.
Dear Sizr,—From the motion of birds, the transition is
natural enough to their notes and language, of which I shall
say something. Not that I would pretend to understand
their language like a vizier, who, by the recital of a conver-
sation which passed between two owls, reclaimed a sultan,t
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 impor-
tant sounds; no bird, like the fisht¢ kind, is quite mute,
though some are rather silent. The language of birds is

* Coots have a very powerful flight when once on the wing and fly with
their legs stretched out behind, acting the part of a tail, in the manner of the
heron. In Scotland and the north of England, they arrive in the marshes
and lakes to breed, and retire at the commencement of winter to the more
southern coasts—W. J.

+ See Spectator, vol. vii. No. 512.

t Fish are not always mute. I have not unfrequently heard tench utter
sounds, and Mr. Thompson of Hull, says that some tench which he caught
made a croaking like a frog for a full half hour, whilst in the basket on his
shoulder.—En,

246 LANGUAGE OF BIRDS.

very ancient, and like other ancient modes of speech, very
elliptical : little is said, but much is meant and understood.*

The notes of the eagle kind are shrill and piercing; 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 expressive notes; they hoot in a fine vocal
sound, much resembling the vox hwmana, 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 to echo; the amorous sound of a crow is strange and
ridiculous; rooks, in the breeding season, attempt some-
times, in the gaiety of their hearts, to sing, but with no great
success ; the parrot kind have many modulations of voice, as
appears by their aptitude to learn human sounds; doves coo
in an amorous and mournful 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 day-break, serenades his mate with the clattering of
castanets. All the tuneful passeres express their compla-
cency by sweet modulations, and a variety of melody. ‘The
swallow, as has been observed in a former letter, by a shrill
alarm, bespeaks the attention of the other hirwndines, and
bids them be aware that the hawk is at hand. Aquatic and
gregarious birds, especially the nocturnal, that shift their
quarters 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.

In so extensive a subject, sketches and outlines are as
much as can be expected: forit would be endless to instance
in all the infinite variety of the feathered nation. We shall,
therefore, confine the remainder of this letter to the few
domestic fowls of our yards, which are most known, and,

® The call of birds that fly in families, as the tit-mice-jays, &c., when they
have been separated and want to find each other, is very interesting —Ev,

LANGUAGE OF FOWLS. 247

therefore, best understood. At first,—the peacock, with his
gorgeous 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 a yard seem possessed of such a variety
of expression, and so copious a language, 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 intimates the event by a
joyous and easy soft note. Of all the occurrences of their
life, that of layimg 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
agitated 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

248 HELIOTROPES.

a warning voice he bids his family beware. The gallant
chanticleer has, at command, 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 watchman that
proclaims the divisions of the night. Thus the poet elegantly
styles him

“The crested cock, whose clarion sounds
The silent hours.”

A neighbouring gentleman, one summer, had lost most of
his. chickens by a sparrow-hawk, that came gliding down
between a fagot pile and the end of his house to the place
where the coops stood. The owner, inwardly vexed to see his
flock thus diminishing, hung a setting net adroitly between
the pile and the house, into which the caitiff dashed, and
was entangled. Resentment suggested the law of retali-
ation; 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.

LETTER LXXXVI.

TO THE SAME.
SELBORNE.
s Monstrent
= * * * * *
Quid tantiim Oceano properent se tingere soles

Hyberni ; vel qua tardis mora noctibus obstet.””

They show
* *

* * * *
Why winter-suns so rapidly descend,
And what delays the tardy nights extend.

GENTLEMEN who have outlets might contrive to make orna-
ment subservient to utility ; a pleasing eye-trap might also

Tur SpaARRow-Hawk.

HELIOTROPES. 249

contribute to promote science; an obelisk in a garden or
park might be oth an embellishment and an heliotrope.

Any person that is curious, and enjoys the advantage of a
good horizon, might, with little trouble, make two helio-
tropes, the one for the winter, the other for the summer
solstice ; and these two erections might be constructed with
very little expense; for two pieces of timber frame-work,
about ten or twelve feet high, and four feet broad at the
base, and 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 of the latter
might be fixed for any given spot in the garden or outlet,
whence the owner might contemplate, in a fine summer’s
evening, the utmost extent that the sun makes to the north-
ward 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 day, and that the whole disc of the sun, at
the longest day, might exactly, at setting, also clear the
summer heliotrope to the north of it.

By this simple expedient, it would soon appear that there
is no such thing, strictly speaking, as a solstice; for, from
the shortest day, the owner would, 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
westward, till, im 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 diameter 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 beginning
its recess from the summer tropic, it would continue more
and more to be hidden every night, till at length it would
descend quite behind the object again; and so nightly more
and more to the westward.

250 HILLS.

LETTER LXXXVILI.

TO THE SAME.

SELBORNE.
oc

Mugire videbis
Sub pedibus terram, et descendere montibus ornos.”

Wuen I was boy, I used to read, with astonishment and
implicit assent, accounts in Baker’s Chronicle of walking
hills and travelling mountains. John Philips, in his Cyder,
alludes to the credit that was given to such stories, with a
delicate but quaint vein of humour, peculiar to the author of
the Splendid Shilling :

“T nor advise, nor reprehend, the choice
Of Marcley 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
Forsaking, to thy neighbour’s bounds transfer
Thy goodly plants, affording matter strange
For law debates !”

But, when I came to consider better, I began to suspect
that, though our hills may never have journeyed 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 the case with Nore and Whetham
Hills, and especially with the ridge between Harteley Park
and Ward-le-ham, where the ground has slid into vast
swellings and furrows, and lies still in such romantic con-
fusion as cannot be accounted for from any other cause. A
strange event, that happened not long since, justifies our
suspicions ; which, though it befel not within the limits of
this parish, yet as it was within the hundred of Selborne,
and as the circumstances were singular, may fairly claim a
place in a work of this nature. _

The months of January and February, in the year 1774,
were remarkable for great melting snows and vast gluts of

FALL OF A CLIFF. 251

rain; so that, by the end of the latter month, the land-
springs, or levants, 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, perhaps, sapped and
undermined by waters, foundered, and was ingulphed, 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
its first situation. Several oaks also 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 unencumbered,
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 people, in the evening, which was very
dark and tempestuous, 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, indicating an earthquake, was ever
felt, only that the wind continued to make a most tre-
mendous roaring in the woods and hangers. The miserable
inhabitants, not daring to go to bed, remained in the utmost
solicitude and confusion, expecting every moment to be
buried under the ruins of their shattered edifices. When
daylight came, they were at leisure to contemplate the devas-
tations 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 one end of the barn had suffered in a
similar manner: that a pond near the cottage had under-

252 FALL OF A CLIFF.

gone a strange reverse, becoming deep at the shallow end,
and so vice versa: 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
anew 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 some hillocks, which were rifted in every direction, 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 fissures in the
turf, which was raised in long ridges resembling graves,
lying at right angles to the motion. At the bottom of this
enclosure, the soil and turf rose many feet against the bodies
of some oaks that obstructed their further course, and
terminated this awful commotion.

The perpendicular height of the precipice, in general, 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 coppice, extends seventy yards
more ; so that the total length of this fragment that fell was
two hundred 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 com-
posed 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 con-
siderable labour and expense had been bestowed in levelling
the surface, and filling in the gaping fissures.

FIELD-CRICKETS. 253

LETTER LXXXVIII.

TO THE SAME.

SELBORNE.
« Resonant arbusta,”’

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 the
gryllus campestris, or field-cricket ;* which, though frequent
in these parts, is by no means a common insect in many
other counties.

As their cheerful summer cry cannot but draw the atten-
tion of a naturalist, I have gone down to examine the
economy of these gryli, 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, feeling 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 abdomen, and carries a long
sword-shaped weapon at her tail, which probably is the

* Acheta campestris.—Fasricivs.
“ The vaulting grasshopper of glossy green.”

254 FIELD-CRICKETS.

instrument with which she deposits her eggs in crannies and
safe 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 and rough an implement, a
pliant stalk 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 gratify
his curiosity without injurmg the object of it. It is
remarkable, that though these insects are furnished with
long legs behind, and brawny thighs for leaping, like grass-
hoppers; 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 shrilling noise, perhaps out of rivalry and emulation, 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 inter-
course, 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 imto 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 their strong jaws, toothed like the shears of a lobster’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 sach herbs as grow before the
mouths of their burrows, they eat indiscriminately ; and on
a little platform, 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

FIELD-CRICKETS. 255

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 still hours of darkness, may be heard to a
considerable 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 promote, than with the notes them-
selves. Thus the shrilling of the field-cricket, though sharp
and stridulous, yet marvellously delights some hearers, filling
their minds with a train of summer ideas of every thing that
is rural, verdurous, and joyous.

About the 10th of March, the crickets appear at the
mouths of their cells, which they then open and bore, and
shape very elegantly. 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 obliterated, and the insects are seen no more till
spring. ;

Not many summers ago, I endeavoured to transplant a
colony to the terrace in my garden, by boring deep holes in
the sloping turf. The new inhabitants 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 on this emergeney, they made use of their
wings in attempting 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 become so merry and loud
as to be irksome in the same room where a4 person is sitting :
if the plants are not wetted, it will die.

* We have observed that they cast these skins in April, which are then seen
lying at the mouths of their holes.

256 HOUSE-CRICKETS,

LETTER LXXXIX.

TO THE SAME.
SELBORNE.
“ Far from all resort of mirth,
Save the cricket on the hearth.”
Mixton’s I1 Penseroso.

Duar Str,—While many other insects must be sought after
in fields, and woods, and waters, the gryllus domesticus, or
house-cricket, resides altogether within our dwellings, intru-
ding itself upon our notice whether we will or no. This
species delights in new-built houses, being, like the spider,
pleased with the moisture 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 uncomfort-
able months in profound slumbers ; 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 natural
time of motion only in the night. As soon as it grows dusk,
the chirping increases, and they come running forth, and are
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 house-
wife’s barometer, foretelling her when it will rain; and are:
prognostics. sometimes, she thinks, of ill or good luck ; of the
death of a near relation, or the approach of an absent lover.
By being the constant companions of her solitary hours, they

HOUSE-CRICKETS, 257

naturally become the objects of her superstition.** These
crickets are not only very thirsty, but very voracious; for
they will eat the seummings of pots, and yeast, salt, and
cruinbs of bread, and any kitchen offal or sweepings. In the
summer we have observed them to fly, when it became dusk,
out of the windows, 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
wwhich 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 volatw wndoso, in waves, or curves, like wood-
peckers, 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 dis-
charged into their crevices and crannies. In families, at
such times, they are, like Pharaoh’s plague of frogs, “in
their bed-chambers, 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
hearth-crickets, and, playing with them as they do with mice,
devour them. Crickets may be destroyed, like wasps, by
phials half filled with beer, or any liquid, and set in their
haunts ; for, being always eager to drink, they will crowd in
till the bottles are full.

* It is a common superstition in Dumfries-shire, that, if the crickets forsake
a house which they have long inhabited, some evil will befall the family—
generally the death of some member is portended. In like manner, the
presence or return of this cheerful little insect is lucky, and porteunds some
good to the family.—W. J.
+ Exod. viii. 3.

258 MOLE-CRICKETE,

LETTER XC.

TO THE SAME.
SELBORNE,

How diversified are the modes of life, not only of incen-
gruous, but even of congenerous animals! and yet their
specific distinctions are not more various than their propen-
sities. 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 gryllus gryllotalpa
(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 burrows and works
under ground like the mole, raising a ridge as it proceeds,
but seldom throwing up hillocks.

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 con-
vinced by finding stragglers in a morning in improbable
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, continued 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

* Gryllotalpa vulgaris, in some places where abundant, does great damage
to newly sown seed, particularly peas, beans, &c.—W. J.

HIMANTOPUS. 259

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,’
A yawning breach of monstrous size he made-
The inmost house is now to sight display’d ;
The admitted light with sudden lustre falls
On the long galleries and the splendid halls.

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 the secret nursery
were deposited near an hundred eggs, of a dirty yellow
colour, and enveloped 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 within the influence
of the sun, just under a little heap of fresh moved mould, like
that which 1s raised by ants.

When mole-crickets fly, they move cursu undoso, rising
and falling in curves, like the other species mentioned
before. In different parts of the kingdom people call them
fen-crickets, churr-worms, and eve-churrs, all very apposite
names.

Anatomists, who have examined the intestines of these
inseets, astonish me with their accounts; for they say that,
from the structure, position, and number 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 quadrupeds !

LETTER XCI.

TO THE SAME.
SeLsorne, May 7, 1779.
Iv is now more than forty years that I have paid some atten-
tion 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. ,
s

260 HIMANTOPUS.

In the last week of last month, five of those most rare
birds, too uncommon _to have obtained an English name, but
known to naturalists by the terms of himantopus, or loripes,
and charadrius himantopus 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 suffered the sixth to remain unmo-
lested. 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 caricatura ; and had we seen such proportions on a Chi-
nese 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 that idea, gives them the apposite
name of [’échasse. 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, incompar-
ably 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 himantopus;
for a cock flamingo weighs, at an average, about four pounds
avoirdupois ; and his legs and thighs measure usually about
twenty inches. But four pounds are fifteen times and a
fraction more than four ounces and a quarter; 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. somewhat more than ten feet,—such a monstrous
proportion 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 muscles as the thighs seem to be

* The stilted plover is a very rare bird in this country, and its appearance
is now allowed to be quite accidental.—Ep.

TORTOISE. 261

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 vacil-
lations, and seldom able to preserve the true centre of gravity.

The old name of himantopus 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
cabinets 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, 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 excursion, 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.

LETTER XCII,

TO THE SAME.

SELBORNE, April 21, 1780.
Dear Sir,—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 hissing; 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

262 TORTOISE.

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 continues still
concealed.

As it will be under my eye, I shall now have an_oppor-
tunity 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, requiring, 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 summer; for it goes to bed, in the
longest days, at four in the afternoon, and often does not
stir in the morning till late. Besides, it retires to rest for
every shower, and does not move at all in wet days.*

When one reflects on the state of this strange being, it is
a matter of wonder to find that Providence 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 after-
noon, with the thermometer at 50, brought forth troops of

* In Mr. White’s unpublished MS.,I find the following notices of Timothy,
the tortoise, for so Mr. White called it.

“ March 17th.—Brought away Mrs. Snooke’s old tortoise, Timothy, which
she valued very much, and had treated kindly for forty years. When dug out
of its hybernaculum, it resented the insult by hissing,

“ May 14th.—Timothy travelled about the garden.

“ May 2nd.—Timothy eats,

“ March 15th.—Timothy comes forth, and weighs 6 1b. 53 oz.

“June 4th.—Timothy took his usual ramble, and could not be confined
within the limits of the garden. His pursuits, which.seem of the amorous
kind, transport him beyond the bounds of his usual gravity,

“Sept. 17th. When we call loudly through the speuking-trumpet to Timothy,
he does not seem to regard the noise.” .

There are many other notices of Timothy, too long for insertion. He
appears to have been weighed at certain times; to have been immersed in
water to see if he was amphibious, and was evidently much alarmed at finding
himself out of his element, and there is a humorous and entertaining letter,
which Mr. White composed for him, to Miss Becky Mulso, dated from
his border under the fruit wall in 1784, and signed, “ Your sorrowful reptile,
Timothy.”’—Ep,

TORTOISE. 263

shell-snails; and, at the same juncture, the tortoise heaved
up the mould and put out its 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 coinci-
dence—a very amusing occurrenee—to see such a similarity
of feelings between two ¢epeotxo,—tfor so the Greeks call
both the shell-snail and the tortoise.

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.

MORE PARTICULARS RESPECTING THE OLD FAMILY
TORTOISE.

Becausr we call this creature an abject reptile, we are too
apt to undervalue his abilities, and to depreciate his powers
of instinct. Yet he is, as Mr. Pope says of his lord,

“ Much too wise to walk into a well ;”

-and has so much discernment as not to fall down an haha,
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 there-
fore 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 the heat in 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 embarrassed

* Several years ago a book was written entitled, “ Fruit Walls improved

264 ITONEY-BUZZARDS.

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 enterprise. Yet there is a season of the year
(usually the beginning of June) when his exertions are re-
markable. 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 gar-
dener, and wandered to some distant field. The motives that
impel him to undertake these rambles seem to be of the
amorous 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 solem::
deportment.

LETTER XCIII.
TO THOMAS PENNANT, ESQ.

A parr of honey-buzzards, buteo apivorus, sive vespivorus,
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 situation, and
bronght down an egg, the only one in the nest, which had
been set on for some time, and contained 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

by inclining them to the horizon ;” in which the author has shown, by cal-
culation, that a much greater number of the rays of the sun will fall on such
walls than on those which are perpendicular.

THE Horry Buzzarp.

SPARROW-HAWES. 265

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 yellow
colour.

About the 10th of July, in the same summer, a pair 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 chick-
ens or ducklings. under their care. A boy climbed the tree,
and found the young so fledged that 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 birds had been observed
to make sad havoc for some days among the new-flown swal-
lows 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 THE SAME.
SetporneE, Nov. 30, 1780.
Dzar Srz,—Every incident that occasions a renewal of cur
correspondence will ever be pleasing and agreeable to me.
’ As to the wild wood-pigeon,t the oenas or vinago, of Ray, I

* They constantly feed their young with the larve of wasps and bees, and
probably themselves when they are able to procure them. This has probably
led to the idea of their eating honey. Besides frogs and snails, they will
occasionally prey on birds, rabbits, &c.—Ep.

+ Both White and some other naturalists have written confused accounts
of these pigeons. The cushat or ring-dove (columba palwmbus) inhabits
woods and makes its nest on the branches of trees.

The stock-pigeon (C. oenas) has a grey slaty colour, and breeds’ freely in
holes in the old pollards in Richmond Park. ‘

The rock-pigeon (C, livia) of a slaty grey, with two black bars on the wings,

266 DOVES.

am much of your mind, and see no reason for making it the

origm of the common: house-dove; but suppose those that

have advanced that opinion may have been misled by another

| ial often given to the oenas, which is that of stock-
ove.

Unless the stock-dove in the winter varies greatly in man-
ners 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 November perhaps to February, lives the same wild life
with the ring-dove (palumbus torquatus) ; frequents coppices
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 breed in that
county. But why did not your correspondent 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,
for many reasons. In the first place, the wild stock-dove is
manifestly 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
remiges of each wing of the stock-dove, which are so charac-
teristic of the species, would not, one should think, be totally
lost by its being reclaimed ; but would often break out among
its descendants. But what is worth a hundred arguments,
is the instance you give in Sir Roger Mostyn’s house-doves
in Carnarvonshire; 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,

brecds amongst rocks on the sea-coast, I have seen them in Taswell Bay
near Swansea.—En.

RING-DOVES. 267

betake themselves to the fastnesses of Ormshead, and deposit
their young in safety amidst the inaccessible caverns and
precipices of that stupendous promontory.

“ Naturam expellas furca . . tamen usque recurret.”

Nature, expelled by force, will still return.

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 extensive than at preseht,
the number of wood-pigeons was astonishing; that he has
often killed near twenty in a day; and that, with along wild-
fowl piece, he has shot seven or eight at a time on the wing,
as they came wheeling over 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 emigrants was beech-mast and some
acorns; and particularly barley, which they collected in the
stubbles. But of late years, smce the vast increase of tur-
nips, 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 occasions 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 relating 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; but in former times the flocks were so vast, not
only with us, but all the district around, that on mornings
and evenings they traversed the air, like rooks, in strings,

* Some old sportsmen say, that the main part of these flocks used to with-
draw as soon as the heavy Christmas frosts were over. —

In the woods and coppices in some of the remote parts of Breconshire,
T have seen vast flocks of the wood-pigeon. They are excellent eating before
they feed on turnips —Ep.

268 DOVES.

reaching for a mile together. When they thus rendezvoused
here by thousands, if they happened to be 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 purpose to
add, that I had a relation in this neighbourhood 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 support them-
selves by mast. The plan was plausible, but something
always interrupted the success; for though the birds were
usually hatched, and sometimes 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 for want of proper sustenance; but the owner
thought that by their fierce and wild demeanour they frighted
their foster-mothers, and so were starved.

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 a passage; and
John Dryden has rendered it so happily in our language,
that, without further excuse, I shall add his translation
also :—

“ Qualis speluncé subits commota columba,
Cui domus, et dulces latebroso in pumice nidi,
Fertur in arva volans, plausimque exterrita pennis
Dat tecto ingentem: mox aére lapsa quieto
Radit iter liquidum, celeres neque commovet alas.”

“As when the 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.”

HOUSE-MARTINS. 269

LETTER XCV.

TO THE HON. DAINES BARRINGTON.
SELBORNE, Sept. 12, 1771.
I wave 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 to make some
_ search about the south-east end of the hill, where Limagined
they might slumber out the uncomfortable months of winter.
But supposing that the ¢«xamination would be made to the
best advantage in the spring, and observing that no martins
had appeared by the llth of April last, on that day I em-
ployed some men to explore the shrubs and cavities of the
suspected spot. The persons took pains, but without any
success; however, a remarkable incident 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 a 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.

LETTER XCVI.

TO THE SAME.
SELBORNE, Sept. 9, 1781.
Iuave 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
hirundines. Our swifts, in general, withdrew this year about

270 SWIFTS.

the first day of August, all save one pair, which in two or
three days was reduced to a single bird. The perseverance
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
with their dam coursing round the church in the act of learn-
ing 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 hippobosce: hirundinis.

The following remarks on this unusual incident are obvious.
The first is, that though it may be disagreeable to swifts to
remain beyond the beginning of August, yet that they can
subsist longer is undeniable. The second is, that this uncom-
mon event, as it was owing to the loss of the first brood, so it
corroborates my former remark, that swifts breed regularly
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 1782, so late as the 3rd of September.

LETTER XCVIL.
TO THE SAME.

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 had often observed that one particular part of a vine, grow-
ing on the walls of my house, was covered in the autumn
with a black, dust-lke appearance, on which the flies fed

coccus. 271

eagerly ; and the shoots and leaves thus affected did not
thrive, nor did the fruit ripen. To this substance I applied
my glasses; but could not discover that it had anything to
do with animal life, as I at first expected: but upon a closer
examination behind the larger boughs, we were surprised to
find that they were coated over with husky shells, from whose
sides proceeded a cotton-like substance, surrounding a mul-
titude of eggs. This curious and uncommon production put
me upon recollecting what I have heard and read concerning
the coccus vitis vinifere of Linnzus; which, in the south of
Europe, mfests many vines, and is a horrid and loathsome

est.* 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 uncommonly severe.

Not being then at all aware that it had anything to do
with England, I was much inclined to think that 16 came
from Gibraltar, among the many boxes and packages of
plants and birds which I had formerly 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, we know, are 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 nidus proper for their support and in-
crease, I cannot but suspect still that these cocci came to
me originally from Andalusia. Yet, all the while, candour
obliges me to confess, that Mr. Lightfoot 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 ob-
served, is a seaport town to which the coccus might be con-
veyed 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 Gibraltar, written by the
Reverend John White, late Vicar of Blackburn, in Lancashire,
but not, yet published.

“Tn the year 1770, a vine, which grew on the east side of

* This insect probably injures trees by puncturing them, and thus causing
a great overflowing of the sap. See Cuvier—Ep,

272 cOcous.

my house, and which had produced the finest crops of grapes
for years past, was suddenly overspread on all the woody
branches with large lumps of a white fibrous substance,
resembling spiders’ webs, or rather raw cotton. It was of a
very clammy 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 bits 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 encumbrance. It remained all the
summer, still increasing, and loaded the woody and bearing
branches to a vast degree. I often pulled off great quan-
tities by handfuls; but it was so slimy and tenacious 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 coccus, from whose sides this cotton-like
substance exudes, and serves as a covering and security for
their eggs.”

To this account I think proper to add, that, though the
female cocct. 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 de-
stroy these insects, yet the attention of the gardener, in a
summer or two, has entirely relieved my vine from this
filthy annoyance.

As we have remarked above, that insects are often con-
veyed from one country to another in a very unaccountable
manner, I shall here mention an emigration of small aphides
which was observed in the village of Selborne, no longer ago
than August the 1st, 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 aphides, or smother-flies, which fell in these parts.

GOLD AND SILVER FISHES. 273

Those that were walking in the street at that juncture found
themselves covered with these insects, which settled also on
the hedges and gardens, blackening all the vegetables where
they alighted. My annuals were discoloured 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 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.*

<

LETTER XCVIII.

TO THE SAME.

Dear S1r,—When I happen to visit a family where gold
and silver fishés are kept in a glass bowl, I am always
pleased with the occurrence, because it offers me an oppor-
tunity of observing the actions and propensities of those
beings, with whom we can be little acquainted in their
natural state. Not long since, I spent a fortnight at the
house of a friend, where there was such a vivary, 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.t As soon as
the creature sickens, the head sinks lower and lower, and it

* For various methods by which several insects shift their quarters, sec
Dernam’s Physico-Theology.

The large excrescences we often see on the trunks and branches of oaks,
elms, &c., are caused by insects. I had one of these excrescences sawn off,
and placed in my sitting-room. I was surprised one morning at finding the room
filled with a vast number of very small flies, and seeing some crawling out of
the piece of wood. On cutting it through I found an infinite number of
cells, some with maggots in them, and others with perfectly formed flies ready
to emerge.—Ep. ;

+ When fish have been hurt or bruised, a white matter forms over the
wound, which spreads, and they die as Mr. White has described—I‘n.

T

274 GOLD AND SILVER FISHES.

stands, as it were, on its head; till, getting weaker, and
losing all poise, the tailturns 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 bemg a cavity, and because it contains the swim-
ming bladders, which contribute to render it buoyant. Some
that delight in gold and silver fishes, have adopted a notion
that they needno 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 nourishment
supplied by the water; because, though they seem to eat
nothing, yet the consequences of eating often dropfrom 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 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
lemna (duck’s meat), and also on small fry. ,

When they want to move a little, they gently protrude
themselves with their pinne pectorales; 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 immoveable ; but these apparently
turn them forward or backward, in their sockets, as their
occasions require. They take little notice of a lighted
candle, though applied close to their heads, but flounce, 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

* The gold fish ‘in the fountain in Hampton Court Gardens eat a large
quantity of food, especially of potatoes well boiled and broken very small.
They are also much fed by the public with biscuit, bread, &c. They are very
healthy, and grow to a large size. They feed on each other’s spawn, and also
make darts at the mud, and thus disturb aquatic insects on which they feed.
Tam convinced that they hear, from many experiments I have tried in order
to ascertain the fact.—Ep.

HOUSE-MARTINS. 275

they are sleeping or not, because 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 colours; while the two
mediums, assisted by the convaco-convex shape of the
vessel, magnify and distort them vastly; not to mention
that the introduction of another element and its inhabitants
into our parlours engages the fancy in a very agreeable
manner.

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.
Linneus ranks this species of fish under the genus of cyprinus,
or carp, and calls it cyprinus 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
pleasant; but in so complicated a way becomes whim-
sical and unnatural, and liable to the objection due to
him,

“ Qui variare cupit rem prodigialitér unam.”

Who loves to vary every single thing
Prodigiously.

LETTER XCIX.

TO THE SAME.
October 10, 1781.
Dean Str,—I think I have observed before, that much the
most considerable part of the house-martins withdraw from
hence about the first week in October; but that some, the
latter broods, I am now convinced, linger on till the middle
12

276 HOUSE-MARTINS.

of that month; and that, at times, once perhaps in two or
three years, a fight, 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 resolved to pay un-
common attention to these late birds, to find, if possible,
where they roosted, and to determme the precise time of their
retreat. The mode of life of the latter hirwndines is very
favourable to such a design, for they spend the whole day in
the sheltered district between me and the Hanger, sailing
about in a placid, easy manner, and feasting on those insects
which love to haunt a spot so secure from ruffling 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 evenings
together, just at a quarter past five in the afternoon, 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 calculated 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, moreover, clothed
with beechen shrubs, which, being stunted and bitten by
sheep, make the thickest covert imaginable, and are so en-
tangled 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 complete. I watched
them on to the thirteenth and fourteenth 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 twenty-second of October, I
observed two, in the morning, 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, as I much desired,

* There may be solitary instances of martins, &c., hybernating in this country

INSTINCT. 277

I presume that, with proper assistants, I should have
settled the matter past all doubt; but though the third
of November 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 there, in different secret dormitories; and
that, so far from withdrawing into warmer climes, it would

appear that they never depart three hundred yards from the
village.

LETTER C.

TO THE SAME.

Tuy who write on natural history, cannot too frequently
advert to instinct, that wonderful limited faculty, which, in
some instances, raises the brute creation, as it were, above
reason, and in others, leaves them so far below it. Phi-
losophers have defined 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 often
vary, and do that by any methods which instinct effects
by one alone. Now, this maxim must be taken in a qua-
lified sense, for there are instances in which instinct does
vary and conform to the circumstances of place and con-
venience.

It has been remarked, that every species of bird has a
mode of nidification peculiar to itself,* so that a schoolboy

from peculiar causes, but no proof has yet been brought forward that they do
so generally.—Ep. :

* Birds certainly alter their mode of nidification for peculiar purposes,
especially for concealing the nest more effectually.’ I have observed instances
of this with respect to the wren and fly-catcher.—Eb.

278 MUSIO.

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, where mosses, and gossamer and
cotton from vegetables, are hardly to be found, the nest of
the chaffinch has not that elegant finished appearance, nor is
it so beautifully studded with lichens as in a more rural dis-
trict; and the wren is obliged to construct its house with
straws and dry grasses, which do not give it that rotundity
and compactness so remarkable 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
happen 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 nut-hatch (sitta ewropea), which live
much on hazel-nuts, and yet they open them each in a diffe-
rent way. The first, after rasping off the small end, splits
the shell into two with his long fore-teeth,as a man does
with his knife; the second nibbles a hole with his teeth, so
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, ina
vice, in some cleft of a tree, or in some crevice, when,
standing over it, he perforates the stubborn 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 practical part of
music, may best inform us why harmony or melody should so
strangely affect some men, as it were, by recollection, for

* © Each creature has a wisdom for its good:
The pigeons feed their tender offspring, crying,
When they are callow, but withdraw their food
When they are fledge, that need may teach them flying.’—Hengert.

hs =
P

Z SS
ANG

ee

Tue Nurnarcu.

MUSIC. 279

days after a concert is over. What I mean, the following
passage will most readily explain :—

“Prehabebat porrd vocibus humanis, instrumentisque
harmonicis, musicam illam avium« non quod alié quoque
non delectaretur; sed quod ex musicé humané relinqueretur
in animo continens quedam, attentionemque et somnum con-
turbaus agitatio: dum ascensus, exscensus, tenores, ac mu-
tationes ile sonorum et consonantiarum, euntque, redeuntque
per phantasiam :—cum nihil tale relinqui possit ex modula-
tionibus avium, que, quod non sunt perinde a nobis imitabiles,
non possunt perinde internam facultatem commovere.”’—
Gassenpus, in Vitd Peireskii— He preferred, also, the
music of birds to vocal and instrumental harmony ; not that
he did not take pleasure in any other, but because there was
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, when
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.”

This curious quotation strikes me much by so well repre-
senting 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 more uneasiness than pleasure: elegant lessons still
teaze my imagination, and recur irresistibly to my recollec-
tion at seasons, and even when I am desirous of thinking of
more serious matters.

280 PETTICHAPS.

.

LETTER CI.

TO THE SAME.

A Rags, and I think a new, little bird* frequents my
garden, which, I have great reason to think, is the petti-
chaps: it is common in some parts of the kingdom; and I
have received formerly several dead specimens from Gibraltar.
This bird much resembles the white-throat, but has a
more white, or rather 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 crown imperials, and putting its head into the
bells of those flowers, sips the liquor which stands in the
nectarium of each petal. Sometimes it feeds on the ground
like the hedge-sparrow, by hopping about on the grass-plots
and mown walks.

One of my neighbours, an intelligent and observing 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 the verge of James
Knight’s upper Bd His attention was first drawn by
the twittering of these birds, which sat motionless in a row
on the bough, with their heads all one way, and, by their
weight pressing down the twig, so that it nearly touched the

* Mr. Herbert says that this kind of bird certainly was not the pettichaps,
which has not the manners Mr. White describes. The detail exactly answers
to the blue-grey, or lesser white-throat (sylvia silviella).

+ Spallanzani says, very decidedly, that swallows retire under water at the
time of their disappearance from this country; but acknowledges that he had
never himself observed it, though his belief of the fact seemed certain. He
had performed a variety of experiments to resolve the question, if cold would
have the effect of producing torpidity, and confined swallows in different ways
under spow and ice, and in an ice-house. The result, however, was always
death, when the temperature and period of immersion were prolonged beyond
a certain period; and the conclusion he draws is, that, at least, our species of
hirundinide do not become torpid.— W. J,

PEREGRINE FALCON. 281

water. In this situation he watched-them till he could see
no longer. Repeated accounts of this sort, spring and fall,
induce us greatly to suspect, that house-swallows have some
strong attachment 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 peregrinus, or haggard
falcon, is a noble species of hawk, seldom seen in the
southern counties. In winter 1767, one was killed in the
neighbouring parish of Faringdon, and sent by me to Mr.
Pennant into North Wales.* Since that time, I have met
with none till now. The specimen mentioned above was in
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 standing 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 and well-
set: the feet were armed with most formidable, 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 1 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 devouring their quarry, with
undistinguishing vehemence, swallow bones and feathers, and
all matters, indiscriminately.t This falcon was probably

* See Letters x. and xr. to Thomas Pennant, Esq.
+ The bones and feathers are swallowed naturaliy, and assist to promote
the digestion. The Abbe Spallanzani, in his experiments on various birds and

282 CHINESE DOGS.

driven from the mountains of North Wales or Scotland,
where they are known to breed, by rigorous weather and
deep snows that had lately fallen.

LETTER CII.
TO THE SAME.

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 hair 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 awk-
ward gait when they trot. When they are in motion, their
tails are curved high over their backs like those of some
hounds, and have a bare place each on the outside from the
tip midway, that does not seem to be matter of accident,
but somewhat singular. Their eyes are jet-black, small, and
piercing ; the insides of their 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
a field, the bitch showed some disposition for hunting, and
dwelt on the scent of a covey of partridges till she sprung
them, giving her tongue all the time. The dogs in South
America are dumb; but these bark much in a short thick
manner, like 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 farinaceous food. These dogs, having been taken on

animals, by changing gradually their food, at last brought some of the falcons
to live on a vegetable diet; and, as a reverse, fed a pigeon upon animal sub-
stances—proving that, by degrees, the natural food of an animal may be
changed, for a time at least, without harm.—W. J.

Dogs. 283

board as soon as weaned, could not learn much from their
dam; yet they did not relish flesh when they came to Eng-
land. 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 ears, 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 Oby, 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 imper-
tinent 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
game. But when we came to offer the bones of partridges
to the two Chinese dogs, they devoured them with much
greediness, and licked the platter clean.

No sporting dogs 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-fowls; nor will they touch the fetid 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.,

* Hasselquist, in his Ziravels to the Levant, observes, that the dogs and

284 poas.

were intended to be messmates with dogs over their car-
rion; and seem to be appointed by Nature as fellow-scaven-

gers, to remove all cadaverous substances from the face of the
earth.*

vultures at Grand Cairo maintain such a friendly intercourse, as to bring up
their young together in the same place.

* See some very interesting observations on the natural history and origin
of our domestic race of dogs, in the fifth number of the Journal of Agriculture,
by Mr. J. Wilson. The origin of all our domestic breeds is there traced to
the wolf and jackal; allowing, of course, the native dogs of Africa and
America, with the New Holland Dingo, to be distinct species.—W. J.

The Chinese word for a dog, to a European ear, sounds like quihloh.

While on the subject of dogs I may mention, notwithstanding Sir W.
Jardine’s note at the end-of this letter, that the dog is of a breed distinct from
either the fox, the wolf, or the jackal, and has also propensities distinct from
the wild-dog, which is just as much a native of the wilderness as the lion or
tiger. Sir John Sebright’s offspring of a wild-dog caught in Australia, and which
was born on board a ship, never could be tamed, and never showed the least
affection for any particular person, although Sir John kept it constantly in his
room for nearly a year, While the dog, on the contrary, shows the utmost
affection for his master ; he guards property with the strictest vigilance, his
courage is unbounded—a courage which neither the wolf, the fox, or the wild-
dog possesses—he never forgets a kindness, but soon loses recollection of an
injury ; his habits are social, and his fidelity not to be shaken—hunger cannot
weaken, or old age impair it—if he commits a fault, he is sensible of it, and
shows pleasure when commended. These qualities are distinct from those of
the animals mentioned. In fact the dog appears to have been a precious gift
to man by a benevolent Creator, to become his friend, companion, and pro-
tector. While all other animals have the fear and dread of man implanted in
them (see Genesis, ix. 2.) the poor dog alone looks at his master with affection,
and the tie once formed is never broken. Again,—the wolf has oblique eyes,
while the eyes of dogs have never been observed to be in that position. If the
dog descended from the wolf, a constant tendency would have been observed in
the former to revert to the original type or species. This is a law in all other
cross breeds; but amidst the variety of dogs, this tendency has not existed.
We have besides no proof that the breed between the dog, the wolf, the fox,
and jackall, is continuous. The domestic dog, besides, has its peculiar bark,
perfectly distinct from the three latter animals. In the most ancient Egyptian
hieroglyphics, also, we find representations of dogs with all the characteristic
appearance and gallant bearing of our English fox-hounds. Other facts might
be brought forward, but perhaps enough has been said to show that the domestic
dog may be considered as a distinct breed, although some may suppose that
its origin is lost in antiquity.—Ep.

FOSSIL WOOD. 285

LETTER CIil.

TO THE SAME.

Tue 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,
arid 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 pur-
pose 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 inlaying it along with whiter woods.

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 it out till lately. I am assured now that it is the
stone-curlew (charadrius oedicnemus.) Some of them pass
over or near my house almost every evening after it is dark,
from the uplands of the hill and Northfield, 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, 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 manceuvres of the rooks are
curious and amusing in the autumn.t Just before dusk; they

* T have a snuff-box in my possession which once belonged to Sir Walter
Scott, with the following inscription on it:—‘“ Made from oak found near
Gordon Castle, twenty feet below the surface of the ground.” It is approach-
ing the appearance of agate.—Ep.

+ It is always pleasing to read Mr. White’s notices of the habits of animals,
which are at the same time equally accurate and instructive, and those of the

286 RAIN,

return in long strings from the foraging of the day, and ren-
dezvous by thousands over Selborne-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, being blended and softened by the distance that we
at the village are below them, become a confused noise or
chiding, or rather a pleasing murmur, very engaging to the
imagination, and not unlike 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.”

LETTER CIV.
TO THE SAME.

In reading Dr. Huxham’s Observationes de Aére, written at
Plymouth, I find, by those curious and accurate remarks,
which contain an account of the weather from the year 1727
to the year 1748, inclusive, that though there is frequent rain
in that district of Devonshire, yet the quantity falling is not
great; and that some years it has been very small; for in
1781, the rain measured only 17:266 inches, and in 1741,

rooks, more especially, have not escaped the notice of poets both ancient and
modern :—
“The sable tenants of five hundred years,
That on the high tops of yon ancient elms,
Pour their hoarse music on the lonely ear.”—J. H. Jesse.
Virgil also, like Mr. White, noticed the noise rooks make on returning in

the evening from feeding :—

“ Et & pastu decedens agmine magno

Corvorum increpuit densis exercitus alis.”

ECHOES.—BAROMETER. 287

20°354; and again, in 1748, 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 mari-
time situations appear wet, when the rain is not considerable.
In the wettest years at Plymouth, the doctor measured only
once 86; and again once, viz. in 1734, 37:114; a quantity of
rain that has twice been exceeded at Selborne in the short
period of my observations. Dr. Huxham remarks, that fre-
quent small rains keep the air moist ; while heavy ones render
it more dry, by beating down the vapours. He is also of
opinion, that the dingy smoky appearance in the sky, in
very dry seasons, arises from the want of moisture suff-
cient to let the light through, and render the atmosphere
transparent ; because he had observed several bodies more
diaphanous when wet than dry; and did never recollect that
the air had that look in rainy seasons.

My friend, who lives just beyond the top of the down,
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 expectation. He then removed them to the alcove
on the Hanger, when the sound, rushing along the Lythe and
Comb-wood, was very grand; but it was at the Hermitage
that the echoes and repercussions 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 per-
vaded the vale above Comb-wood ponds; and, after a pause,
seemed to take up the crash again, and to extend round
Harteley Hangers, and to die away at last among the cop-
pices and coverts of Ward-le-ham. It has been remarked
before, that this district is an Anathoth, a place of responses,
or echoes, and, therefore, proper for such experiments. We
may further 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 with my own; but being filled again twice
at Newton, the mercury stood, on account of the great eleva-
tion of that house, three-tenths of an inch lower than the

288 WEATIIER.

barometers at this village, and so continues 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
below 28. We have 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 Sel-
borne, proves that Newton House must be three hundred
feet higher than that in which I am writing, instead of two
hundred.

It may not be impertinent to add, that the barometers at
Selborne stand three-tenths of an inch lower than the baro-
meters 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 London.
Of course, therefore, there must be lower ground all the
way from Selborne to South Lambeth; the distance between
which, all the windings and indentings of the streams consi-
dered, cannot be less than a hundred miles.

LETTER CY.

TO THE SAME.

Stncz the weather of a district is undoubtedly part of its
natural history, I shall make no farther apology for the four
following letters, which will contain many particulars con-
cerning 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 ofits rigour, and reason ofits ravages, may be useful,

SHRUBS. 289

and not unacceptable to persons that delight m 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 a 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 laurustines, bays, laurels, and arbutuses,
looked, in three or four days, as if they had been burnt in
the fire; while a neighbour’s plantation of the same kind, in
a high, cold situation, where the snow was 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 plantations
are small, to avail himself of mats, cloths, peas-haum, 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 where the snow is partly.melted and
frozen again. ;

It may perhaps appear, at first, like a paradox; but doubt-
less 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.

* This was the case a few years ago, when laurels, laurustines, &¢., were
killed to the ground in the more sheltered situations, while those in bleak,
exposed situations escaped. Tender plants have more chance of surviving
frost when in cold spots, than when in those more sheltered. ‘The sap is
kept back, and of course the plants are not so likely to be affected by the
frosts.—Ep.

Ww

290 FROSTS.—BEES.

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 ; because, 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, perhaps, 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-masters now find that
their hives should not, in the winter, be exposed to the
hot sun, because such unseasonable 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 winds of many, and killed some: that
colds and coughs were general among the human species ;
that it froze under people’s beds for several nights; that
meat was so hard frozen 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

ose that has been explained already.*

On the third of January, Benjamin Martin’s thermometer,
within doors, in a close parlour where there was no fire, fell
in the night to 20, and on the fourth to 18, and on the seven-
teenth to 174, a degree of cold which the owner never since
saw 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 eighth, roost-cocks, which had been silent, began’
to.sound their clarions, and crows to clamour, as prognostic

* Sce Letter rx. to Thomas Pennant, Esq.

THAWS. : 291.

of milder weather; and, moreover, moles began to heave and
work, and a manifest thaw took place. From the latter cir-
cumstance, we may conclude, that thaws often originate
under ground from warm vapours which arise, else how
should subterraneous animals receive such early intimations
of their approach? Moreover, we have often observed
that cold seems to descend from above: for when a thermo-
meter 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
gauge.

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 gradation, yet thaws do
not usually come on by as regular a declension of cold;
but often take place immediately from intense freezing;
as men in sickness often mend at once from paroxysm.

To the great credit of Portugal laurels and American
junipers, be it remembered, that they remained’ untouched
amidst the general havoc: hence men should learn to orna-
ment chiefly with such trees as are able to withstand acci-
dental severities, and not subject themselves to the vexation
of a loss which may befal them once, perhaps, in ten years,
yet may hardly be recovered through the whole course of
their lives.

As it appeared afterwards, the ilexes were much injured,
the cypresses were half destroyed, the arbutuses 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 fourteenth of January, the snow was entirely gone;
the turnips emerged, not damaged at all, save in sunny places:
the wheat looked delicately ; 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 tke face of the country is
covered with flowers.

v2

292 WINTER OF 1776

LETTER CVI.
TO THE SAME.

THERE were some circumstances attending the remarkable
frost of January, 1776, so singular and striking, that a short
detail of them may not be unacceptable.

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 may be inferred, as there is great reason to believe
is the case, that intense frosts seldom take place till the
earth is completely glutted and chilled with water*; and
hence dry autumns are seldom followed by rigorous winters.

January 7th.—Snow driving all thé day, which was fol-
lowed by frost, sleet, and some snow, till the twelfth, when a
prodigious mass overwhelmed all the works of men, drifting
over the tops of the gates, and filling the hollow lanes.

On the fourteenth, the writer was obliged to be much
abroad: and thinks he never before, or since, has encoun-
tered such rugged Siberian weather. Many of the narrow
roads are now filled above the tops of the hedges; through
which the snow was driven in most romantic and grotesque
shapes, so striking to the imagination, as not to be seen
without wonder and pleasure. The poultry dared not to
stir out of their roosting-places; for cocks and hens are so
dazzled and confounded by the glare of the snow, that they
would soon perish without assistance. The hares also lay
sullenly in their seats, and would not move till compelled by
hunger ; being conscious, poor animals, that the drifts and

* The autumn preceding January, 1768, 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.

WINTER OF 1776. 293

heaps treacherously betray their footsteps, and prove fatal to
numbers of them.

Fram the fourteenth, the snow continued to increase, and
began to stop the road-waggons and coaches, which could no
longer keep on their regular stages; and especially on the
western roads, where the fall appears to have been greater
than in the south. The company at Bath, that wanted to
attend the Queen’s birth-day, were strangely incommoded ;
many carriages of persons who got, in their way to town
from Bath, as far as Marlborough, after strange embarrass-
ments, here met with a.ne 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 removed ; and so the eighteenth passed
over, leaving the company in very uncomfortable circum-
stances at the Castle and other inns.

On the twentieth, the sun shone out for the first time
since the frost began ; a circumstance that has been remarked.
before, 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 twenty-first it descended to
20. The birds now began to be ina very pitiable and starv-
ing condition. Tamed by the season, sky-larks settied in
the streets of towns, because they saw the ground was bare;
‘ vooks frequented dunghills close to houses; and crows

watched horses as they passed, and greedily devoured what
dropped from them; hares now came into men’s gardens,
and scraping away the snow, devoured such plants as they
could find.

On the twenty-second, 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 pavement 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 con-
vey an uncomfortable idea of desolation :—

“ Tpsa silentia terrent.”

On the twenty-seventh, much snow fell all day, and in the

294: WINTER OF 1776.

evening the frost became very intense. At South Lambeth,
for the four following nights, the thermometer fell to 11, 7,
6,6; and at Selborne to 7, 6,10; and on the 31st of Ja-
nuary, just before sunrise, with rime on the trees, and on
the tube of the glass, the quicksilver sunk exactly to zero,
being 32 degrees below the freezing point; but by eleven in
the morning, though in the shade, it sprung up to 163*—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 chambers, and under beds; and in
the day the wind was so keen, that persons of robust consti-
tutions could scarcely endure to face it. The Thames was
at once so frozen over, both above and below the bridge,
that crowds ran about on the ice. The streets were now
strangely encumbered with snow, which crumbled and trode
dusty ; and, turning gray, resembled bay-salt; what had
fallen on the roofs was so 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 house-
keepers living. According to all appearances, we might now
have expected the continuance of this rigorous weather for
weeks to come, since every night increased in severity ; but
behold, without any apparent cause, on the first 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, without any gradual déclension of cold.
On the second of February, the thaw persisted ; and on the
third, swarms of little insects were frisking and sporting in
a court-yard at South Lambcth, 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.t

® At Selborne, the cold was greater than at any other place that the author
could hear of with certainty; though some reported at the time, that, at a
village at Kent, the thermometer fell two degrees below zero, viz. thirty-four
degrees below the freezing point.

The thermometer used at Selborne was graduated by Benjamin Martin.

++ We have the best evidence to prove that both fish and molluscous animals
may be frozen without destroying their vitality. A gentleman at Camberwell
had an inflamed eye during the winter of 1829, and kept a leech which was
applied to the temple several times. It was put into water in a vial placed
near the fireplaceof the parlour. The cold at that time was very severe, and

WINTER OF 1784. 295

Severe frosts seem to be partial, or to run in currents ; 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 Manchester at 21, 20, and 18. Thus does some
unknown circumstance strangely overbalance latitude, and
render the cold sometimes much greater in the southern than
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 laurus-
tines 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 sides, 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 neighbour’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 were mostly
destroyed: and the partridges, by the weather and poachers,
were so thinned, that few remained to breed the following
year.

LETTER CVII.
TO THE SAME.

As the frost in December, 1784, was very extraordinary,
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.

' every night the leech was frozen, and thawed the following day. It was
observed by Capt. Franklin that during the severe winter he experienced
near the Coppermine River, the fish froze as they were taken out of the nets.
In a short time they became a solid mass of ice, and by a blow or two of the
hatchet, they were easily split open. If, however, in the completely frozen
state, they were thawed before the fire, they recovered their animation.—Eb.

296 WINTER OF 1784.

The first week in December was very wet, with the baro-
meter very low. On the 7th, with the barometer at 28°5
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 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 thermo-
meter; we therefore 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 the morning,
the quicksilver of Dollond’s glass was down to half a degree
below zero, and that of Martin’s, which was absurdly gradu-
ated only to four degrees below zero, sunk quite into the
brass guard of the ball, so that, when the weather became
most interesting, this was useless. On 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 desirous to know what degree
of cold there might be in such an exalted and near situation
‘as Newton. We had, therefore, on the morning of the 10th,
written to Mr. , and entreated him to hang out his ther-
mometer, made by Adams, and to pay some attention to it
morning and evening, expecting wonderful phenomena in so
elevated a region, at 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 comparative local cold, that we sent one of my glasses up,
thinking that of Mr. must, somehow, be wrongly con-
structed. But when the instruments came to be confronted,
they went exactly together, so that, for one night at least, the
cold at Newton was eighteen degrees less than at Selborne,
and, through the whole frost, ten or twelve degrees; and,
indeed, when we came to observe consequences, we could
readily credit this, for all my laurustines, bays, ilexes, arbu-
tuses, cypresses, and even my Portugal laurels,* and, which

* Mr. Miller, in his Gardener's Dictionary, says positively, that tho

WINTER OF 1784. 297

occasions more regret, my fine sloping laurel-hedge, were
ser up, while, at Newton, the same trees have not lost
a leaf!

‘We had steady frost on the 25th, when the thermometer,
in the morning, was down to 10 with us, and at Newton
only to 21. Strong frost continued till the 31st, when some
tendency to thaw was observed, and by January 3rd, 1785,
the thaw was confirmed, and some rain fell.*

A circumstance that I must not omit, because it was new
to us, is, that on Friday, December the 10th, being bright
sunshine, the air was full of icy spicule, floating in all direc-
tions, like atoms in a sunbeam, let into a dark room. We
thought them, at first, 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. Were they watery particles of the air frozen as
they floated, or were they evaporations from the snow frozen
as they mounted ?

We were much obliged to the thermometers for the carly
information they gave us, and hurried our apples, pears,
onions, potatoes, &c., into the cellar and warm closets ; while
those who had not, or neglected such warnings, 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 insulated, the shock might have been
given to a whole circle of people.

Portugal laurels remained untouched in the remarkable frost of 1739-40.
So that either that accurate observer was much mistaken, or else the frost of
December, 1784, was much more severe and destructive than that in the year
above-mentioned.

* If a frost happens, even when the ground is tolerably dry, it has been
observed that when a thaw comes, the paths and fields are all in a batter.
Country people say that the frost draws moisture, but the reason is that the
vapours continually ascending from the earth, are bound in by the frost and
not suffered to escape till released by the thaw. No wonder, then, that the
surface is all in a float, since the quantity of moisture by evaporation that
arises daily from every acre of ground, is astonishing. Dr. Watson, by expe-
riment, found it to be 1600 to 1900 gallons in 12 hours, according to’ the
degree of heat in the earth, and the quantity of rain newly fallen—
Ma. Waite, from his unpublished MSS. :

298 SUMMERS OF 1781 AND 1783.

I forgot to mention before, that during the two severe
days, two men, who were tracing hares in the snow, had their
feet frozen; and two men, who were much better employed,
had their fingers so affected by the frost, while they were
thrashing in a barn, that mortification followed, from which
they did not recover for many weeks.

The 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 vear, before old November ended,
and may yet be allowed, from its effects, to have exceeded
any since 1739-40.

LETTER CVIII.
TO THE SAME.

As the effects of heat are'seldom very remarkable in the
northerly climate of England, where the summers 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 severity of a summer sea-
son, 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 was 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 conti-
nuance. 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 would 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

SUMMERS OF 1781 AND 1783. 299

apricot in the south of Europe, where the heats were 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 we
not set the boys to take the nests, and caught thousands
with hazel-twigs tipped with bird-lime; we have since
employed the boys to take and destroy the large breeding
wasps in spring. Sueh 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
in every hot summer, 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 eye could behold, became the next the
most loathsome, being enveloped in a viscous substance, and
loaded with black aphides, or smother-flies. The occasion of
this clammy appearance seems to be this, that in hot weather
the effluvia of flowers in fields, and meadows, 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 senses will inform us; and that this clammy sweet sub-
stance is of the vegetable kind we may learn from bees, to
whom it is very grateful; and we may be assured that it
falls in the night, because it is always first seen in warm,
still mornings.

On chalky and sandy soils, and in the hot villages about
London, the thermomcter has been often observed 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 stil, 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 effluvia from our woodlands temper and moderate our
heats.

300 SUMMER OF 1783,

LETTER. CIX.
TO THE SAME,

TE summer of the year 1783 was an amazing and porten-
tous one, and full of horrible puenomena; for, besides the
alarming meteors and tremendous thunder storms that
affrighted and distressed. the different counties of this king-
dom, the peculiar haze, or smoky fog, that prevailed for
many weeks in this island, aud in every part of Europe, and
even beyond its limits, was a most extraordinary appearance,
unlike anything known within the memory of man. By my
journal, 1 find that I had noticed this strange occurrence
from June 23 to July 20, inclusive, during which period, the
wind varied to every quarter, without making any alteration
in the air. The sun, at noon, looked as black as a clouded
moon, and shed a rust-coloured ferruginous light on the
ground and floors of rooms, but was particularly lurid and
blood-coloured at rising and settimg. All the time, the heat
was so intense that butchers’ meat could hardly be eaten 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 people began to look with a
superstitious awe at the red lowering 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 sprang 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 apphi-
cable, because, towards the end, it alludes to a superstitious
kind of dread, with which the minds of men are always
impressed by such strange and unusual phenomena :—

——< 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
Perplexes monarchs.” ——

THUNDER STORMS. 301

LETTER CX.
TO THE SAME.

WE are very seldom annoyed with thunder-storms; and 1t
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 for
this fact—for such it is—is, that on that quarter, between us
and the sea, there are continual mountains, hill behind hill,
such as Nore-hill, the Barnet, Burter-hill, and Portsdown,
which somehow divert the storms, and give them a different
direction. High promontories, and elevated grounds, have
always been observed to attract clouds, and disarm them of
their mischievous contents, which are discharged into the
trees and summits, as soon as they come in contact with
these turbulent meteors; while the humble vales escape,
because they are so far beneath 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
thunder storms at all; for on June 5th, 1784, the ther-
mometer in the morning being at 64, and at noon at
70, the barometer at 29°64, and the wind north, I observed
a blue mist, smelling strongly of sulphur, hang along our
sloping woods, and seeming to indicate that thunder was
at hand. I was called in about two in the afternoon, and
so missed seeing the gathering 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 soon succeeded
by round hail, and then by convex pieces of ice, which

302 CONCLUSION.

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
Norton, which lay in the centre of the storm, was greatly
injured ; as was Grange, which lay next to it. It did but
just réach 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 occa-
sioned a flood as violent as it was sudden; doing great
damage to the meadows and fallows, by deluging the one,
and washing away the soil of the other. The hollow lane
towards Alton was 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
the ponds and pools, say that the dashing of the water made
an extraordinary appearance, 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.

Though the clouds at South Lambeth, near London, 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. '

When I first took the present work in hand, I proposed
to have added an Annus-Historico-Naturalis, or the Natural
History of the Twelve Months of the Year; which would
have comprised many incidents and occurrences that have
not fallen into my way to be mentioned in my series of
letters ;—but as Mr. Aiken of Warrington has lately pub-
lished 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, with all due deference and regard,

Your most obliged, and most humble servant,

Gri. WHITE.

Srrporne, June 25, 1787.

OBSERVATIONS
ON
VARIOUS PARTS OF NATURE,

FROM MR. WHITE’S MSS.

WITH REMARKS BY MR. MARKWICK.

OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS.

—_+—_

BIRDS IN GENERAL.

ty severe weather, fieldfares, redwings, sky-larks, and tit-
‘arks, resort to watered meadows for food; the latter wades
ap to its belly in pursuit of the pupez of insects, and runs
tlong 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 much sweeter fruit
than red, yet they seldom touch the former till they have
devoured every branch of the latter.

-Redstarts, fly-catchers, and black-caps, arrive early in
April, If these little delicate beings are birds of passage
(as we have reason to suppose they are, because they are
never seen in winter), how could they, feeble as they seem,
bear up against such storms of snow and rain, and make
their way, through such meteorous turbulence, as one should
suppose would embarrass and retard the most hardy and
resolute of the winged nation? Yet they keep their ap-
pointed times and seasons ; and, in spite of frosts and winds,
ceturn to their stations periodically, as if they had met with
nothing to obstruct them. The withdrawing and appearance

* Mr. White has remarked, page 51, “ that food has great influence on the
colour of animals.” The dark colour in wild birds is a great safeguard
to them against their enemies; and this is the reason, that, among birds of
bright plumage, the young do not assume their gay colours till the second or
‘hird year, as the cygnet, the gold and silver pheasants, &c. The remarkable
-hange of plumage among the gull tribe, is a curious and intricate subject.
'y the circumstance mentioned by Mr. Pegge true, “that butterflies partake
‘he colour of the flowers they feed on?” I think not. See Anonymiani,
y» 469,—Mitrorp.

x

306 OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS.

of the short-winged summer birds is a very puzzling cireum-
stance in natural history!

When the boys bring me wasps’ nests, my bantam 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; and therefore I have often wondered that the
accurate Mr. Ray should call one species of buzzard buteo
apivorus sive vespivorus, or the honey-buzzard, because some
combs of wasps happened to be found in one of their nests.
The combs were conveyed thither doubtless for the sake of
the maggots or nymphs, and not for their honey, since none
is to be found in the combs of wasps.* Birds of prey occa-
sionally feed on insects; thus have I seen a tame kite
ee up the female ants full of eggs, with much satis-
action. WHITE.

That redstarts, fly-catchers, black-caps, and other slender-
billed insectivorous small birds, particularly the swallow
tribe, make their first appearance very early in the spring,
is a well-known fact; though the fly-catcher is the latest of
them all in its visit (as this accurate naturalist observes in
another place), for it is never seen before the month of May.
If these delicate creatures come to us from a distant country,
they will probably be exposed in their passages, as Mr.
White justly remarks, to much greater difficulties from
storms and tempests than their feeble powers appear to be
able to surmount: + on the other hand, if we suppose them

* Those who have read that pleasing and instructive work, “ The Ornitho-
logical Rambles in Sussex,” will find an interesting mention of the kestrel
flying along the surface of fields and fecding on grasshoppers, and probably
other insects. —Epb.

+ There certainly does exist a difficulty in conceiving how some of the
birds of passage, such feeble and bad fliers, should be able to migrate to such
a vast distance ; but some of our wonder will perhaps diminish when we read
the account of the manner in which the quail crosses the Mediterranean, for
the coast of Africa. ‘“ Towards the end of September the quails avail them-
selves of a northerly wind to take their departure from Europe, and flapping
one wing, while they present the other to the gale, half sail, half oar, they
graze the billows of the Mediterranean with their fattened ramps, and bury
themselves in the sands of Africa, that they may serve as food to the famished
inhabitants of Zara.’—Sr. Pyeras’s Studics of Nature, vol. i. p. 91.—
Mitrorp.

OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS. 807

to pass the winter in a dormant state, in this country, con-
cealed in caverns, or other hiding-places, sufficiently guarded
from the extreme cold of our winter to preserve their life,
and that, at the approach of spring, they revive from their
torpid state, and re-assume their usual powers of action, it
will entirely remove the first difficulty, arising from the
storms and tempests they are liable to meet with in their
passage: but how are we to get over the still greater diffi-
culty of their revivification from their torpid state? * What
degree of warmth in the temperature of the air is necessary
to produce that effect, and how it operates on the functions
of animal life, are questions not easily answered.

How could Mr. White suppose that Ray named this
species the honey-buzzard because it fed on honey, when he
not only named it in Latin buteo apivorus sive vespivorus, but
expressly says, that “it feeds on insects, and brings up its
young with the maggots, or nymphs, of wasps ?P”

That birds of prey, when in want of their proper food,
flesh, sometimes feed on insects, I have little doubt, and
think I have observed the common buzzard (falco buteo) to
settle on the ground and pick up insects of some kind or
-other.t Marxwicx.

Rooxs.—Rooks are continually fighting, and pulling each
other’s nests to pieces: { these proceedings are inconsistent

* Mr. Brown in his edition of the Natural History of Selborne says, that
he has received from a friend the following authentic accounts of the migra-
tion of birds, which cannot fail to be highly interesting, as proving the long
excursions periodically taken by them. A chaffinch and a goldfinch were
caught on board a ship in the Bay of Biscay, and, at the same time, several
snipes were seen: a small white owl flew round the vessel; a hawk, several
swallows, and martins in great numbers, were seen for several days, many of
them resting on the rigging. A hen redstart followed the ship for some days,
and was so tame that she used to enter the ports of the gun-room, where she
was regularly fed by the sailors. The spotted gallinule and a fine kestrel
hawk were caught in the rigging, about 424 miles from land.

+ There is reason to believe, that insects form also part of the food even of
the larger beasts of prey. “ Beetles, flies, worms, form part of the lion and
tiger’s food, as they do that of the fox.” See Jarrotn’s Disert. on Man.
MitrForp. F

+ Rooks generally begin to build their nests about the end of February,
-but in Mr. White’s unpublished MSS. I find mention made of a rook’s nest
with young in it as late, or, perhaps I should say, as early as the 26th of

x2

3808 OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS.

with lying in such close community. And yet, if a pair
offer to build in a single tree, the nest is plundered and
demolished at once. Some rooks roost on their nest trees.
The twigs which the rooks drop in building, supply the poor
with brushwood to light their fires. Some unhappy pairs
are not permitted to finish any nest till the rest have com-
pleted their building. As soon as they get a few sticks
together, 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 deport-
ment of the male is continued 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.+
WHITE.

After the first. brood of rooks are sufficiently fledged, they
all leave their nest-trees in the day-time, and resort to some
distant place in search of food, but return regularly every
evening, in vast flights to their nest-trees, where, after flying
round several times, with much noise and clamour, till the
are all assembled together, they take up their abode for the
night. Marxwics.

TurvusnEs.—Thrushes during long droughts, are of great
service in hunting out shell-snails,t which they pullin pieces
for their young, and are thereby very serviceable in gardens.

November. On the 6th of December, one of them was found dead about
half grown.—En. ;

* J have observed this to be the case with canaries when confined in breed-
ing cages, and also with hedge-sparrows.—Ep.

+ The very beautiful, one may almost say poetical, way in which the male
bird procures a mate by the power of his song, may be seen in the preface to
Mr. Montagu’s Ornithological Dictionary, p.xxx ; from which this corollary
may be inferred, that if a confined bird had learned the song of another, wifh-
out retaining any part of its natural notes, and was set at liberty, it is probable
jt would never find a mate of its own.—Mirrorp.

+ [have frequently observed thrushes place a shell-snail between two stones,
or a hollow in a gravel-walk, to prevent their rolling, and then picking them
till they broke them.—Eb,

THE MaGpisr.

OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS. 309

Missel thrushes do not destroy the fruit in gardens like the
other species of turdi, but feed on the berries of mis-
seltoe, 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
wild commons. '

The magpies, when they have young, destroy the broods
of missel thrushes, though the dams are fierce birds, and fight
bold in defence of their nests. It is probably to avoid such
insults, that this species of thrush, though wild at other
times, delights to build near houses, and in frequented walks
and gardens. WHITE.

Of the truth of this I have been an eye-wituess, having
seen the common thrush feeding on the shell-snail.

In the very early part of this spring (1797), a bird of this
species used to sit every morning on the top of some high
elms close to 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 suppose dis-
turbed 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. Marxwicx.

Povtrry.—Many creatures are endowed with a ready
discernment to see what will turn to their own advantage
and emolument; and often discover more sagacity than
could be expected. Thus, my neighbour’s poultry watch for
waggons loaded with wheat, and, running after them, pick
up a number of grains which are shaken from the sheaves by
the agitation of the carriages. Thus, when my brother used
to take down his gun to shoot sparrows, his cats would run
out before him, to be ready to catch up the birds as they fell.

*«@ |). , dew drops thick as early blossoms hung,
And trembled as the minstrel swectly sung.”—Bioomrienp.

310 OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS.

The earnest and early propensity of the galline to roost
on high is very observable;* and discovers a strong dread
impressed on their spirits respecting vermin that may annoy
them on the ground during the hours of darkness. Hence
poultry, if left to themselves and not housed, will perch the
winter through on yew trees and fir trees ; and turkeys and
guinea fowls, heavy as they are, get up into apple trees;
pheasants also, in woods, sleep on trees to avoid foxes ;
while pea-fowls climb to the tops of the highest trees round
their owner’s house for security, let the weather be ever so
cold or blowing. Partridges, it is true, roost on the ground,
not having the faculty of perching; but then the same fear
prevails in their minds; for, through apprehensions from
polecats and stoats, they never trust themselves to coverts,.
but nestle together in the midst of large fields, far removed
from hedges and coppices, which they love to haunt in the
day, and where, at that season, they can skulk more secure
from the ravages of rapacious birds.

_As to ducks and geese, their awkward, splay, web-feet
forbid them to settle on trees ;+ they therefore, in the hours
of darkness and danger, betake themselves to their own
element, the water, where, amidst large lakes and pools, like
ships riding at anchor, they float the whole night long in
peace and security. WHITE.

Guinea fowls not only roost on high, but in hard
weather resort, even in the day-time, to the very tops of
highest trees.t

* Fowls that roost in trees are much later in laying their eggs than those
which have been housed and kept warm. Fowls belonging to London bakers,
and which roost over their ovens, are very early layers. Warmth, there-
fore, seems to be necessary to the early production of eggs, and it might be
worth inquiry whether those birds which are most exposed to cold do not
begin the process of incubation at a later period than those birds which affect
warmth. Pigeons are carly breeders, and they are warmly housed.—Ep.

+ The Cape geese in Richmond Park not only settle on trees, but make
their nests in the old oak pollards, and convey their young in safety to the
ground by placing one at a time under one of their wings. When these geese
made their nests on the ground of the island in the large pond in the park,
the water-rats destroyed the eggs, which induced the birds to take to the trees
near the side of the pond.—En.

t This, probably, is the reason why they lay their eggs so much later in

IpD Duck.

EW

TH

OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS. 3ll

Last winter, when the ground was covered with snow, I dis-
covered all my guinea fowls, in the middle of the day, sitting
on the highest boughs of some very tall elms, chattering and
making a great clamour: I ordered them to be driven down,
lest they should be frozen to death in so elevated a situation;
but this was not effected without much difficulty, they being
very unwilling to quit their lofty abode, notwithstanding
one of them had its feet so much frozen, that we were obliged
to killit. I know not how to account for this, unless it
was occasioned by their aversion to the snow on the
ground, they being birds that came originally from a hot
climate.*

Notwithstanding the awkward, splay, web-feet, as Mr.
White calls them, of the duck genus, some of the foreign
species have the power of settling on the boughs of trees,
apparently with great ease; an instance of which I have seen
in the Earl of Ashburnham’s menagerie, where the summer
duck (anas sponsa) flew up and settled on the branch of an
oak tree in my presence; but whether any of them roost on
trees in the night, we are not informed by any author that
I am acquainted with. I suppose not; but that, like the
rest of the genus, they sleep on the water, where the birds
of this genus are not always perfectly secure, as will appear
from the following circumstances, which happened in this
neighbourhood a few years since, as I was credibly informed.
A female fox was found inthe morning drowned in the same
pond in which were several geese, and it was supposed, that
in the night, the fox swam into the pond to devour the geese,
but was attacked by the gander, which being the most
powerful in its own element, buffeted the fox with its wings
about the head till it was drowned. Marxwicxk.

Hen Parrriper.—a hen partridge came out of a ditch,

the year than the common fowl or even the pheasant, which latter, however,
roosts in trees, but generally either in warm fir-trees, or in sheltered situations
in woods.—Eb.

* It is a beautiful arrangement of Providence that guinea-fowls, which are
African birds, and deposit their eggs on the ground, should have the shells so
hard that the common snakes of the country cannot break them. They may,
indeed, remove some of them from the nest, but in order to make up for this
deficiency, the guinea-fowl lays more eggs thau any other bird.—Eb.

312 OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS.

and ran along shivering with her wings, and crying out as if
wounded and unable to get from us. While the dam acted
this distress, the boy who attended me saw her brood, that
was small and unable to fly, run for shelter into an old fox-
earth under the bank. So wonderful a power is instinct.*
WHITE.

It is not uncommon to sce an old partridge feign itself
wounded, and run along on the ground fluttering and crying,
before either dog or man, to draw them away from its help-
less unfledged young ones. I have seen it often; and once
in particular, I saw a remarkable instance of the old bird’s
solicitude to save its brood. As I was hunting with a young
pointer, the dog ran on a brood of very small partridges ; the
old bird cried, fluttered, and ran tumbling along, just before
the dog’s nose, till she had drawn him to a considerable dis-
tance, when she took wing and flew still farther off, but not
out of the field: on this the dog returned to me, near which
place the young ones lay concealed in the grass, which the
old bird no sooner perceived, than she flew back again to us,
settled just before the dog’s nose again, and, by rolling and
tumbling about, drew off his attention from her young, and
thus preserved her brood a second time. I have also seen,
when a kite has been hovering over a covey of young par-
tridges, the old birds fly up at the bird of prey, screaming
and fighting with all their might, to preserve their brood.

MarxEWwIck.

A Hypsrip Purasant.—Lord Stawell sent me, from the
great lodge in the Holt, a curious bird for my inspection. It
was found by the spanicls of one of his keepers in a coppice,
and shot on the wing. The shape, hair, and habit of the
bird, and the scarlet ring round the eyes, agreed well with
the appearance of a cock pheasant ; but then the head and
neck, and breast and belly, were of a glossy black; and

* It is, no doubt, a wonderful instinct, and at the same time a proof how
strongly Providence has implanted in animals the love of their young, which
neither fear nor the natural love of self-prescrvation seems to lessen. Mr.
Markwick’s remarks on the fact mentioned by Mr. White are highly interesting
to every lover of nature.—Ep.

Tur ReED-LEGGED PARTRINGE. (Perdix rufus.)

OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS. 313

though it weighed three pounds three ounces and a half*
the weight of a large full-grown cock pheasant, yet there was
no sign of any spurs on the legs, as is usual with all grown
cock pheasants, who have long ones. The legs and feet were
naked of feathers, and therefore it could be nothing of the
grouse kind. In the tail were no long, bending feathers,
such as cock pheasants usually have, and are characteristic
of the sex. The tail was much shorter than the tail of a hen
pleasant, and blunt and square at the end. The back, wing-
feathers, and tail, were all of a pale russet, curiously streaked,
somewhat like the upper parts ofa hen partridge. I returned
it with my verdict, that it was probably a spurious, or hybrid
hen-bird, bred between a cock pheasant and some domestic
fowl. When I came to talk with the keeper who brought
it, he told me that some pea-hens had been known last
summer to haunt the coppices and coverts where this mule
was found.

Mr. Elmer, of Farnham, the famous game-painter, was em-
ployed to take an exact copy of this curious bird.

N.B. It ought to be mentioned, that some good judges
have imagined this bird to have been a stray grouse or
black-cock; it is, however, to be observed, that Mr. W.
remarks, that its legs and feet were naked, whereas those
of the grouse are feathered to the toes. WHITE.

Mr. Latham observes, that “pea-hens, after they have
done laying, sometimes assume the plumage of the male
bird,” and has given a figure of the male-feathered pea-hen
now to be seen in the Leverian Museum; and M. Salerne
remarks, that “the hen pheasant, when she has done laying
and sitting, will get the plumage of the male.” May not
this hybrid pheasant, as Mr. White calls it, be a bird of this
kind? that is, an old hen pheasant which has just begun to
assume the plumage of the cock.t ManRrxwicx.

* Hen pheasants usually weigh only two pounds ten ounces.

+ See the account by John Hunter, in the Philosophical Transact. Art.
xxx. 1760. “The subject of the account is a hen pheasant with the feathers
of the cock. The author concludes, that it is most probable that all those
hen pheasants which are found wild, and have the feathers of the cock, were
formerly perfect hens, but that now they are changed with age, and perhaps by
certain constitutional circumstances.” It appears also, that the hen, taking

314 OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS.

Lanp-Rart.—A man brought me a land-rail, or daker-hen,
a bird so rare in this district that we seldom see more than
one or two in a season, and these 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 second 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 pebbles, and might
grind one another. lLand-rails 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 oz., was fat and tender,
and in flavour like the flesh of a woodcock. The liver was
very large and delicate. WHITE.

Land-rails are more plentiful with us than in the neigh-
bourhood of Selborne. J have found four brace in an after-
noon, and a friend of mine lately shot nine in two adjoining
fields; but I never saw them in any other season than the
autumn.

That it is a bird of passage* there can be little doubt,

the plumage of the cock, is not confined to the pheasant alone ; it takes place
also with the pea-hen, as may be seen in the specimen belonging to Lady
Tynte, which was in the Leverian Museum. After many broods, this hen
took much of the plumage of the cock, and also the fine train belonging to
that bird. See also Montacu’s Ornithological Dictionary, Art. Pheasant.
Rey. J. Mitrorp.

* The Jand-rail or corn-crake is a bird of passage, and a summer visitor to
this country. When in the neighbourhood of Swansea some years ago, I was
assured by a gentleman residing near that place, that he discovered in a field

ISS
>

eS

—

sa
SSS

crass SS

Tur Corn-CRAkE, on LAND-Ralt, (Ortygometra crea)

OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS. . 315

though Mr. White thinks it poorly qualified for migration,
on account of the wings being short, and not placed in the
exact centre of gravity: how that may be I cannot say, but
I know that its heavy sluggish flight is not owing to its
inability of flying faster, for I have seen it fly very swiftly ;
although in general its actions are sluggish. Its unwilling-
ness to rise proceeds, imagine, from its sluggish disposition,
and its great timidity; for it will sometimes squat so close
to the ground as to suffer itself to be taken up by the hand,
rather than rise; and yet it will at times run very fast.
What Mr. White remarks respecting the small shell-snails
found in its gizzard, confirms my opinion, that it frequents
corn fields, seed clover, and brakes or fern, more for the
sake of snails, slugs, and other insects which abound in such
places, than for the grain or seeds; and that it is entirely an
insectivorous bird.* Marxwick.

Foop For THE Riye-povz.—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, when grain
fails, can subsist on the leaves of vegetables. There is
reason to suppose that they would not long be healthy with-
out; for turkeys, though corn-fed, delight in a variety of
plants, such as cabbage, lettuce, endive, &c.; and poultry
pick much grass; while geese live for months together on
commons 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.”
Puruips’ Cyder.
WHITE.

near the sea a large congregation of these birds. The next day not one was
to be found.—Eb. ;
* There is no doubt of its feeding much on grass seeds, which the length

316 OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS.

That many graminivorous birds feed also on the herbage,
or leaves of plants, there can be no doubt; partridges and
larks frequently feed on the green leaves of turnips, which
give a peculiar flavour to their flesh, that is to me, very
palatable; the flavour also of wild ducks and geese greatly
depends on the nature of their food; and their flesh fre-
quently contracts a rank unpleasant taste, from their having
lately fed on strong marshy aquatic plants, as I suppose.

That the leaves of vegetables are wholesome, and con-
ducive.to the health of birds, seems probable, for many
people fat their ducks and turkeys with the leaves of lettuce
chopped small. Marxwics.

Hey-Harrizr.—A neighbouring gentleman sprung a
pheasant in a wheat stubble, and shot at it; when, notwith-
standing the report of the gun, it was immediately 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 hovering round him all the while that he
was beating the field, conscious, no doubt, of the game that
lurked in the stubble. Hence we may conclude that this
bird of prey was rendered very daring and bold by hunger,
and that hawks cannot always seize their game when they
please. We may farther observe, that they cannot pounce
their quarry on the ground, where it might be able to make
a stout resistance, smce so large a fowl as a pheasant could
not but be visible to the piercing eye of a hawk, when hover-
ing over the field. Hence that propensity 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 galling by the invention of
nets and guns. WHITE.

Of the great boldness and rapacity of birds of prey, when
urged on by hunger, I have seen several instances; par-

of its legs and neck enable it to reach from the tops of the stalks. When
confined, the seeds should therefore be placed above them, and not strewed on
the ground. Mr. Herbert says that he does not believe the land-rail will
touch a slug, and it may be doubted whether or not they ever take their food
from the ground.— Ep.

Hen HARRIERS.

OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS. 317

ticularly, when shooting in the winter, in company with two
friends, a woodcock flew across us, closely pursued by a small
hawk ; we all three fired at the woodcock instead of the
hawk, which, notwithstanding the report of three guns close
by it, continued its pursuit of the woodcock, struck it down,
and carried it off, as we afterwards discovered.*

At another time, when partridge-shooting with a friend,
we saw a ring-tail hawk rise out of a pit with some large
bird in its claws; though at a great distance, we both fired,
and obliged it to drop its prey, which proved to be one of
the partridges which we were im pursuit of: and lastly, in
an evening, I shot at and plainly saw that I had wounded a
partridge; but, it being late, was obliged to go home with-
out finding it again. The next morning, I walked round
my land without any gun; but a favourite old spaniel fol-
lowed my heels. When‘I came near the field where I
wounded the bird the evening before, I heard the partridges
call, and they seemed to be much disturbed. On my
approaching the bar-way, they all rose, some on my right
and some on my left hand; and just before and over my
head, I perceived (though indistinctly, from the extreme
velocity of their motion) two birds fly directly against each
other, when instantly to my great astonishment, down
dropped a partridge at my feet; the dog immediately seized
it, and, on examination, I found the blood flow verv ‘fast
from a fresh wound in the head, but there was some dry
clotted blood on its wings and side; whence I concluded,
that a hawk had singled out my wounded bird as the object
of his prey, and had struck it down the instant that my
approach had obliged the birds to rise on the wing; but the
space between the hedges was so small, and the motion of
the birds so instantaneous and quick, that I could not dis-
tinetly observé the operation. Marxwicx.

Great Speckirep Diver, on Loon.—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.

* T have known two instances of hawks dashing through a pane of glass to
seize canary birds which were hanging near the window.—Ep.

318 OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS.

On examination it proved to be colymbus glacialis, Linn., the
eat speckled diver, or loon, which is most excellently
Gexeribied in Willughby’s Ornithology.

Every part and proportion of this bird is so incomparably
adapted to its mode of life, that in no instance 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 adjoin-
ing, in order that it may pierce the water; the wings are
placed forward, and out of the centre of gravity, for a pur-
pose 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 knife,
that, in striking, they may easily cut the water; while the
feet are palmated and broad for swimming, yet so folded up,
when advanced to take a fresh stroke, as to be full as
narrow as the shank. The two éXterior toes of the feet are
longest; the nails flat and broad, resembling the human,
which give strength, and increase the power of swimming.
The foot, when expanded, is not at right angles with the leg
or body of the bird; but the exterior 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.

“fost people know, that, have observed at all, that the
swimming of birds is nothing more than a walking 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, impel 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
inaclear 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 1b; but probably
for the increase of their motion under water, by the use of
four oars instead of two; yet were the wings and feet nearer
together, as in land birds, they would, when in action, rather
hinder than assist one another.

This colymbus was of considerable bulk, weighing only

OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS. 319

three drachms short of three pounds avoirdupois. It mea-
sured in length, from the bill to the tail (which was very
short) two feet, and to the extremities of the toes four inches
more: and the breadth of the wings expanded was 42 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 colymbi and mergi are placed so very back-
ward, and so out of all centre of gravity, that these birds
cannot walk at all. They are called by Linneus compedes,
because they move on the ground as if shackled or fettered.

WHITE.

These accurate and ingenious observations, tending to set
forth in a proper light the wonderful works of God in the
creation, and to point out his wisdom in adapting the singular
form and position of the limbs of this bird to the particular
mode in which it is destined to pass the greatest part of its
iife, in an element much denser than the air, do Mr. White
credit, not only as a naturalist, but as a man and as a philo-
sopher, in the truest sense of the word, in my opinion; for,
were we enabled to trace the works of Nature minutely and
accurately, we should find, not only that every bird, but
every creature, is equally well adapted to the purpose for
which it was intended; though this fitness and propriety of
form is more striking in such animals as are destined to any
uncommon mode of life. ;

I have had in my possession two birds, which, though of
a different genus, bear a great resemblance to Mr. White’s
colymbus in their manner of life, which is spent chiefly in the
water, where they swim and dive with astonishing rapidity ;
for which purpose their fin-toed feet, placed far behind, and
very short wings, are particularly well adapted, and show the
wisdom of God in the creation as conspicuously as the bird
before mentioned. These birds were the greater and lesser
crested grebe (podiceps cristatus et awritus). What surprised
me most was, that the first of these birds was found alive on
dry ground, about seven miles from the sea, to which place

320 OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS.

there was no communication by water. How did it get so
far from the sea, its wings and legs being so ill adapted
either to flying or walking? ‘The lesser crested grebe was
also found in a fresh-water pond, which had no communica-
tion with other water, at some miles distance from the sea.
Manrxwicx.

Stone-CuRLEW.*—On the 27th of February ,1788, stone-
curlews were heard to pipe; and on March Ist, after it was
dark, some were passing over the village, as might be per-
ceived by their quick short note, which they use in their
nocturnal excursions by way of watch-word, 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. Per-
haps the mildness of the season may have quickened the
emigration of the curlews 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. WHITE.

On the 81st of January, 1792, I received a bird of this
species, which had been recently killed by a neighbouring
farmer, who said that he had frequently seen it in his fields
during the former part of the winter: this perhaps was an
occasional strageler, which, by some accident, was prevented
from accompanying its companions in their migration.

MarxwIck.

Tar SMALLEST UNCRESTED WILLOW- WREN.—The smallest

* These birds breed on the fallows, and often startle the midnight traveller
hy their shrill and ominous whistle. This is supposed to be the note so
beautifully alluded to by Sir Walter Scott in his poem of the Lady of the
Lake :-—

* And in the plover’s shrilly strain,
The signal whistle ’s heard again ;”

for it certainly sounds more like a human note than that of a bird.—

WitiraMson.
The eye of the stone-curlew is singularly beautiful—Ep,

OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS. 821

uncrested willow-wren, or chiff-chaf, is the next early summer
bird which we have remarked; it utters two sharp piercing
notes, so loud in hollow woods as to occasion an echo, and is
usually first heard about the 20th of March. WHITE.

This bird, which Mr. White calls the smallest willow-wren,
or chiff-chaf, makes its appearance very early in the spring,
and is very common with us; but I cannot make out the
three different species of willow-wrens, which he assures us
he has discovered. ver since the publication of his History
of Selborne, I have used my utmost endeavours to discover
his three’ birds, but hitherto without success. I have fre-
quently shot the bird which “ haunts only the tops of trees,
aud makes a sibilous noise,” even in the very act of uttering
that sibilous note; but it always proved to be the common
willow-wren, or his chiff-chaf. In short, I never could dis-
cover more than one species, unless my greater pettichaps
(sylvia hortensis of Latham) is his greatest willow-wren.

Marxwicx.

Frrn-Ow1, on Goat-Sucxer.—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 impu-
tation, which it by no means deserves,—in Italy, of sucking
the teats of goats, whence it is called caprimulgus ; and with
us, of communicating a deadly disorder to cattle. But the
truth of the matter is, the malady above mentioned is occa-
sioned by the estrus bovis, a dipterous insect, which lays its
eges along the chines of kine, where the maggots, when
hatched, eat their way through the hide of the beast into the
flesh, and grow to a very large size. I 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. Once I myself saw a large rough
maggot of this sort squeezed out of the back of acow. These
maggots in Essex are called wornils.

The least observation and attention would convince men

T

322 OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS.

that these birds neither injure the goatherd nor the grazier,
but are perfectly harmless, and subsist alone, being night-
birds, on night-insects, such as scarabei and phalene ; and
through the month of July, mostly on the scarabecus solsti-
tialis, 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 chaifers ;
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 ,pak for
twenty times following, keeping mostly close to the grass,
but sna ag glancing up amidst the boughs of the tree.
This amusing bird was then in pursuit of a brood of some
particular phalene belonging to the oak, of which there are
several sorts; and exhibited on the occasion 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 of the obtruder ;
and, by striking their wings together 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 intended
by way of menace.

Fern-owls have 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 scarabeus melolontha on the
oak; and the scarabeus solstitialis at midsummer. These
peculiar birds can only be watched and observed for two
hours in the twenty-four: and then in a dubious twilight,
an hour after sun-set, and an hour before sun-rise.’

On this day (July 14, 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 Hermitage, under a beechen
shrub. This person, who lives just at the foot of the Hanger,

naama wall ananneaintad unith thaan nantuwneal aerallacran and

OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS. 323

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 somewhat im 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 hatched, perhaps, in a week. From hence we
may see the time of their breeding, which corresponds pretty
well with 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 summer ; each lays only two eggs.

July 4, 1790.—The woman who brought me two fern-
owl’s eggs last year, on July 14, on this day produced 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 nests. Birds that build on the
ground do not make much of nests. Waits.

No author that I am acquainted with has given so accu-
rate and pleasing an account of the manners and habits of
the goat-sucker as Mr. White, taken entirely from his own
observations. Its being a nocturnal bird, has prevented my
having many opportunities of observing it. I suspect that
it passes the day in concealment amidst the dark and shady
gloom of deep-wooded dells, or, as they are called here, gills ;
having more than once seen it roused from such solitary
places by my dogs, when shooting in the day-time. I have

* The fern-owl arrives one of the last of our migratory birds, and it has been °

known to remain in this country till late in November. I disturbed a pair of
these birds on a bright sunny day as they were sitting on a stunted oak tree
at the edge of some boggy ground in Wales. They made a short flight, and
appeared stupified and unconscious of any danger. It is to be regretted that
they should be wantonly destroyed, for they are very useful in devouring
numbers of chaffers.— Ep. 2

Y

B24 OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS.

also sometimes seen it in an evening, but not long enough
to take notice of its habits and manners. I have never seen
it but in the summer, between the months of May and
September. Marxwicx.

Sanp-Marrins.—March 23, 1788.—A gentleman, who
was this week on a visit at Waverley, took the opportunity
of examining some of the holes in the sand-banks with
which that district abounds. As these are undoubtedly
bored by bank-martins, and are the places where they
avowedly breed, he was in hopes they might have slept there
also, and that he might have surprised them just as they
were awaking from their winter slumbers. When he had
dug for some time, he 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 former summers; but no torpid birds were to be
found. He opened and examined about a dozen holes.
Another gentleman made the same search many years ago,
with as little success. These holes were in depth about
two feet.*

March 21, 1790.—A single bank or sand-martin was seen
hovering and playing round the sand-pit at Short Heath,
where in the summer they abound.

April 9, 1793.—A sober hind assures us, that this day, on
Wish-Hanger Common, between Hedleigh and Frinsham,
he saw several bank-martins playing in and out, and hangi
before some nest holes in a sand hill, where these birds
usually nestle.

This incident confirms my suspicions that this species of
hirundo is to be seen first of any; and gives great reason to
suppose that they do not leave their wild haunts at all, but
are secreted amidst the clefts and caverns of those abrupt’
cliffs where they usually spend their summers.

The late severe weather considered, it is not very probable

* TI am not sure that the habits of the little sand-martin (Hirundo
riparia) do not interest me more than those of the swallow. They excavate
their holes in sunny sand-banks with wonderful rapidity, and dart in and
out of them ina way peculiarly pleasing, and which I am never tired of watch-
ing. ‘When the malc and female are resting for a few moments, in the recesses
of their sandy retreat, their gentle notes of love and affection may be heard, and
then they resume their rapid and “ joyous” flight.—Ep,

‘OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS. 325

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 latebre, where they have spent the uncomfortable
foodless months in a torpid state, and the profoundest of
slumbers.

There is a large pond at Wish-Hanger, which induces
these sand-martins to frequent that district. For I have
ever remarked that they haunt near great waters, either
rivers or lakes. WHITE.

Here, and in many other passages of his writings, this
very ingenious naturalist favours the opinion that: part, at
least, of the swallow tribe pass their winter in a torpid state,
in the same manner as bats and flies, and revive again on the
approach of spring.

I have frequently taken notice of all these circumstances,
which induced Mr. White to suppose that some of the
hirundines lie torpid during winter. I have seen, so late as
November, on a finer day than usual at that season of the
year, two or three swallows flying backwards and forwards
under a warm hedge, or on the sunny side of some old
building ; nay, I once saw, on the 8th of December, two
martins flying about very briskly, the weather being mild.
I had not seen any considerable number, either of swallows
or martins, for a good while before: from whence, then,
could these few birds come, if not from some hole or cavern
where they had laid themselves up for the winter? Surely
it will not be asserted that these birds migrate back again,
from some distant tropical region, merely on the appearance
of a fine day or two at this late season of the year. Again,
very early in the spring, and sometimes immediately after
very cold, severe weather, on its growing a little warmer, a
few of these birds suddenly make their appearance, long
before the generality of them are seen. These appearances
certainly favour the opinion of their passing the winter in a
torpid state, but do not absolutely prove the fact; for who
ever saw them reviving of their own accord from their torpid
state, without being first brought to the fire, and, as it were,
forced into life again ; soon after which revivification, they
constantly die. MaRKwIick.

326 OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS.

SwatLtows, ConGREGATING AND DISAPPEARANCE OF.*—
During the severe winds that often prevail late in the spring,
it is not easy to say how the hirundines subsist; for they
withdraw themselves, and are hardly ever seen, nor do any
insects appear for their support. That they can retire to
rest, and sleep away these uncomfortable periods, as bats do,
is a matter rather to be suspected than proved: or do they
not rather spend their time in deep and sheltered vales near
waters, where insects are more likely to be found? Certain
it is, that hardly any individuals of this genus have, at such
times, been seen for several days together.

September 13, 1791—The congregating flocks of hirwn-
dines on the church and tower are very beautiful 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 emigra-
tion, 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 four hundred 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 the bat-
tlements 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 Sel-
borne since October 11. It is very remarkable, that after

* A correspondent informs me that he has observed that when a large
number of swallows have congregated in the neighbourhood of Liverpool, they
have suddenly disappeared, but, upon a strong gale of wind arising, they have
as suddenly reassembled till the gale was over.—Eb.

+ On the 2nd and 3rd of December, 1842, several swallows were seen
flying about some of the towers of Windsor Castle ; the thermometer then was
48, and the wind S.S,.W.—Ep.

OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS. 327

the hirundines have disappeared for some weeks, a few are
occasionally seen again ;' sometimes, in the first week in
November, 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 al!

* Concerning swallows, the reader will see, that Mr. White appears to
incline more and more in favour of their torpidity, and against their mzgration.
Mr. D. Barrington is still more positive on the same side of the question. See
his Miscellanies, p.225. The ancients generally mention this bird as winter-
ing in Africa. See Anacreon, Ay. ed. Brunk. p.38. The Rhodians had a
festival called yeAddyia, when the boys brought about young swallows:
the song which they sang may be seen in the works of Meursius, v. iii.
p- 974. fol.

FHAOe, "HAGE, XeAdY KaAGS
“Opas &youra, ka) Kadovs "Enavtobs
°Em) yaorépa Acuna k’ Gm vOTa péAaiva.

* He comes! He comes! who loves to bear
Soft sunny hours and seasons fair ;
The swallow hither comes to rest
His sable wings 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, fellus se dura relaxat,
Culminibusque cavis, blandum strepit ales hirundo,
Gens devota choros agitat!””

When the hard earth grows soft in early spring,
And on our roofs the noisy swallows sing.

From a passage in the Birds of Aristophanes, we learn, that among the Greeks,
the crane pointed out the time of sowing; the arrival of the kite, the time of
sheep-shearing ; and the swallow the time to put on summer clothes. Accord-
ing to the Greek Calendar of Flora, kept by Theophrastus at Athens, the
Ornitbian 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. See Srituinerzeer’s Tracts on Natural His-
tory, p. 324.

Mr. White says, p. 148, it is strange that rooks and starlings accompany
each other: but this is the case with other birds; the short-eared owl often
accompanies flights of woodcocks in this country. See Pennant’s Scotland, i.

. 11. In Greece, the cuckoo migrates with the turtle flocks, thence they

call him trigonokractes, or turtle-leader.— Mitrorp.
€

328 OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS.

seasons through the autumn and spring months, when the
thermometer is at 50, because then phalen@ and moths are
stirring. These swallows looked like young ones.

WHITE.

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, and which he
has described at p.78 of his History of Selborne ; and of
their congregating together on the roofs of churches and
other buildings, and on trees, previous to their departure,
many instances occur; particularly, I once observed a large
flock of house-martins 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 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.

Marrwicx.

Waaeraits.—While the cows are feeding in the moist
low pasture, broods of wagtails, white and grey, run round
them, close up to their noses, and under their very bellies,
availing themselves of the flies that settle on their legs, and
probably finding worms and lJarve that are roused by the
trampling of their feet. Nature is such an economist, that

* T have had so many facts sent me of vast flocks of swallows having
been seen at sea, and also of their settling on the rigging of ships, that the
proofs of their migration cannot be doubted. Indeed I have frequently
witnessed their departure from, and, in one instance, their arrival in this
country. In the latter case they settled on the ground in Kew Park, abou!
11 o’clock in the morning,.and were so much exhausted, that they suffered me tc
ride close to them. This was in April. The strong propensity of migratory bird:
to leave and return at the appointed season, plainly demonstrates that thi:
unvarying principle within them is an instinct given them by a beneficen
Creator at the very time best adapted for their flight, and which i:
apparently irresistible. Indeed, they seem to migrate as by a sudden impulse
and neither sooner or later than is expedient, almost at the same time yearly
so that up to the hour of their flight, and as long as it is needful to stay foi
their preservation, they appear to have no thought of departure.—Eb.

THe Grey WaGrain.

OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS. 329

the most incongruous animals can avail themselves of each
other! Interest makes strange friendships. WHITE.

Birds continually avail themselves of particular and un-
usual circumstances to procure their food; thus wagtails
keep playing about the noses and legs of cattle as they feed,
in quest of flies and other insects which abound near those
‘animals; and great numbers of them will follow close to the
plough to devour the worms, &c., that are turned up by that
instrument. The red-breast attends the gardener in digging
his borders; and will, with great familiarity and tameness,
pick out the worms almost close to his spade, as I have
frequently seen.* Starlings and magpies very often sit on
the backs of sheep and deer to pick out their ticks.

Marxwicx.

‘Wrryrcrs.—These birds 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 our their prey with their tongues, which are so long as
to be coiled round their heads. Waitt.

GrosBeax.—Mr. B. shot a cock grosbeak, which he had
observed 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 eraw,
no buds were to be seen; buta mass of kernels of the stones
of fruits. Mr. B. observed, 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 ornithologists
call this bird coccothraustes, 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.

Waite.

* Rooks may be seen following close upon a plough at work, to feed upon
any grubs or worms which may be turned up.—Eb.

330 OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS.

Ihave never seen this rare bird but during the severest
cold of the hardest winters: at which season of the year, I
have had in my possession two or three that were killed in
this neighbourhood in different years. Marxwick.

Owzs.—Mr. White has observed, p. 159, that the owl
returns to its young with food once in five minutes. Mr.
Montague has observed, that the wren returns once in two
minutes, or, upon an average, thirty-six times in an hour;
and this continued full sixteen hours in a day, which, if
equally divided between eight young ones, each would receive
seventy-two feeds in the day, the whole amounting to five
hundred and seventy-six. See Ornitholog. Dict. p. 35. To
this I will add, that the swallow never fails to return to its
nest at the expiration of every second or third minute.

Mirrorp.

Cucxoos.—Since Mr. White’s time, much has been added
to our knowledge of the cuckoo, by the patient attention of
Dr. Jenner. Concerning the singing of the cuckoo, men-
tioned by Mr. White, at p. 140, I will add the following
curious memoranda from the 7th volume of the Transactions
of the Linnean Society. “The cuckoo begins early in the
season with the interval of a minor third, the bird then
proceeds to a major third, next to a fourth, then a fifth,
after which his voice breaks without attaining a minor
sixth.” This curious circumstance was, however, observed
very.long ago; and it forms the subject of an epigram in
that scarce black-letter volume, the Epigrams of John
Heywood, 1587. MirForp.

OBSERVATIONS ON QUADRUPEDS. 331

OBSERVATIONS ON QUADRUPEDS.

—_+—

Suzrr.—tThe sheep on the downs this winter (1769) are 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. i

After 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 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 recognise each other more from the smell than
the sight; and in matters 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. WHITE.

Razsits.—Rabbits make incomparably the finest turf, for
they not only bite closer than larger quadrupeds,* but they

* It has been generally supposed that wild rabbits will not beeome domes-
ticated. The following interesting account of one, communicated to me by a
lady, will afford a proof to the contrary :—

“ One evening last spring my dog barked at ‘something behind a flower-pot
that stood in the door-porch. I thought a toad was there, but it proved to be
avery young rabbit, 2 wild one. The poor thing was in a state of great
exhaustion as if it had been chased, and had Leen a long while without food.
It was quiet in the hand and allowed a little warm milk to be put into its
mouth. Upon being wrapt in flannel and placed in a basket by the fire, it
soon went to sleep. When it awoke, more milk was offered in a small spoon,
which this time was sucked with right good will ; and the little creature con-
tinued to take the milk in this way for several days, until strong enough to
help itself out of a cup. It appeared to become tame immediately, soon
learnt its name, and I never saw a happier or merrier little pet. Its gambols
ou the carpet were full of fun. When tired with play, it would feed on the

3382 OBSERVATIONS ON QUADRUPEDS.

allow no bents to rise; hence warrens produce much the
most delicate turf for gardens. Sheep never touch the stalks
of grasses.* WHITE.

green food and nice bits placed there for it, and, when satisfied, it used to
climb up the skirt of the dress, nestle in the lap or under the arm, and go to
sleep, If this indulgence could not be permitted, then Bunny (as we called
it) would spring into my work-basket, and take a nap there. At mid-day it
liked to sit in the sun on the window-seat, then it would clean its fur and
long ears, each being separately drawn down, and held by one foot while
brushed by the other. This duty performed, it would stretch at full length,
and basking in the sun-beams fall asleep. Strange to tell, all this was going
on with the dog in the room, who had been made to understand that the rabbit
was not to be touched ; stranger still, the rabbit ceased to show any fear of
the dog ; but, on the contrary, delighted in jumping on the dog's back and
running after his tail. These liberties, however, were not pleasing to Jewel ;
they were evidently only endured in obedience to the commands of his mistress.
Not approving of one favourite being made happy at the other’s expense, I
was obliged to interfere upon these occasions, and call Bunny to order.

“Being frequently told that a wild rabbit could not be so thoroughly
domesticated, but that it would return to the woods if it regained its liberty,
I feared that if mine got Joose it would certainly run away. Yet I wished it
should be sometimes in the garden to feed upon such green food as it liked
hest: for this purpose I fastened it with a collar and small chain, and, thus
secured, led it about. One evening the chain unfortunately broke, and Bunny
was free! At first we saw it running from place to place with wild delight,
but after a little while we could not see it, and we hunted in vain under
the shrubs, calling it by name, until it became dark ; we then ceased to search
any longer, and I concluded my pretty pet was gone.

“ Before retiring for the night, 1 gave a last look out of the window, in the
hope I might chance to see it once more, The moon was then shining brightly,
and I distinctly saw my little rabbit: sitting at the door with head and ears
erect, as if listening for its friends within, anxious, perhaps, for its accustomed
nice supper and soft warm bed. I hastened down stairs to let it in, calling it
by name, when, the moment I opened the door, a strange cat darted forward,
seized it by the neck, and bore it screaming away! Of course every effort of
inine was useless to overtake the cat.

“T feel convinced that this fond little creature would not have left us, to
return to the wood. That it did not come when called, was the effect of
excessive joy for its newly found freedom, which must have been doubly
delightful while we were near, as no doubt it saw us when we could not see
it, and was only quietly feeding when we thought it was gone away.

“Four months must have been the extent of poor Bunny's short
life.”’—Eb.

* This is a wise and beautiful provision of Providence. If sheep, or indeed
any quadrupeds were to feed on the stalks of grasses, the seed vessels would
be destroyed, and, consequently, the turf would not be renovated from time to
time. In order to guard against their destruction, the stalks are very bitter.
(Sce Rabbits.) —Eb.

OBSERVATIONS ON QUADRUPEDS. 333

Car anp Squirrets.—A boy has taken three little young
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.t This circumstance corroborates m
suspicion, that the mention of exposed and deserted children
being nurtured by female beasts of prey who had lost their
young, may not be so improbable an incident as many have
supposed; and therefore may be a justification of those
authors who have gravely mentioned, what some have deemed
to be a wild and improbable story.

So many people went to see the little squirrels suckled by
a cat, that the foster mother became jealous 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 foundlings, and that she supposed 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. Waite.

Horsz.—An old hunting mare, which ran on the common,
being taken very ill, ran down into the village, as it were, to
implore the help of men, and died the night following in the
street. Wuite.

Hovnps.—The king’s stag hounds came down to Alton,
attended by a huntsman and six yeomen prickers, with horns,
to try for the stag that has haunted Harteley Wood for so
long a time. Many -hundreds of people, horse and foot,
attended the dogs to see the deer unharboured; but though
the huntsman drew Harteley Wood, and Long Coppice, and
Shrubwood, and Temple Hangers, and, in their way back,
Harteley and Ward-le-ham Hangers, yet no stag could be
found.

“ The squirrel’s nest is not only called a drey in Hampshire, but also in
other counties ; in Suffolk it is called a bay. The word “drey,” though now
provincial, I have met with in some of our old writers—Mrtrorp.

++ A fox that had lost her cubs, stole and suckled one of the puppies of a
sheep dog, in the north of England. It was dug out of the fox’s earth,
and is now the constant companion and retriever of an officer in the Life
Guards.—Eb,

384 OBSERVATIONS ON INSECTS AND VERMES.

The royal pack, accustomed to have the deer turned out
before them, never drew the coverts with any address and
spirit, as many people that were present observed; and
this remark the event has proved to be a true one: for as a
person was lately pursuing a pheasant that was wing-broken,
in Harteley Wood, he stumbled upon the stag by accident,
and ran in upon him as he lay concealed amidst a thick brake
of brambles and bushes. WHITE.

OBSERVATIONS ON INSECTS AND VERMES.

—+—
INSECTS IN GENERAL.

Tux day and night insects occupy the annuals alternately ;
the papilios, musce, and apes, are succeeded at the close of
day by phalene, earwigs, woodlice, &c. In the dusk of the
evening, when beetles begin to buzz, partridges begin to call:
these two circumstances are exactly coincident.

Ivy is the last flower that supports the hymenopterous
and dipterous insects. On sunny days, quite on to Novem-
ber, they swarm on trees covered with this plant ; and when
they disappear, probably retire under the shelter of its leaves,
concealing themselves between its fibres and the trees which
ib entwines. WHITE.

This I have often observed, having seen bees and other
winged insects swarming about the flowers of the ivy very
late in the autumn. MaRrxwicx.

Spiders, woodlice, Jepisme in cupboards and among sugar,
some empedes, gnats, flies of several species, some phalene
in hedges, earth-worms, &c., are stirring at all times, when
winters are mild; and are of great service to those soft-
billed birds that never leave us.

On every sunny day, the winter through, clouds of insects,
usually called gnats (I suppose ¢ipule and empedes), appear
sporting and dancing over the tops of the evergreen trees in

OBSERVATIONS GN INSECTS AND VERMES. 385

the shrubbery, and frisking about as if the business of gene-
ration was still going on. Hence it appears that these
diptera (which by their sizes appear to be of different species)
are not subject to a torpid state in the winter, as most
winged insects are. At night, and in frosty weather, and
when it rains and blows, they seem to retire into those trees.
They often are out in a fog. ‘Waitt.

This I have also seen, and have frequently observed swarms
of little winged insects playing up and down in the air in
the middle of the winter, even when the ground has been
covered with snow. Marxwicx.

Hoummine in ton Arr.—tThere is a natural occurrence
to be met with upon the highest part of our down 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 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 Money-dells, to Mr.
White’s 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 convolvd,
The quivering nations sport.’—THomson’s Seasons.

WHITE.

Cuarrers.—Cockchaffers* seldom abound oftener than
once in three or four years; when they swarm, they deface
the trees and hedges. Whole woods of oaks are stripped
bare by them..

Chaffers are eaten by the turkey, the rook, and the house-
sparrow.t

* Farmers have told me that when chaffers abound, they fall from trees and
hedges on the backs of the sheep, where, becoming entangled in the wool, they
die, and being blown by flies, fill the sheep with maggots.—Eb.

* + Rooks destroy an immense number of chaffers, not only in the grub

336 OBSERVATIONS ON INSECTS AND VERMES.

The scarabeus solstitialis first appears about June 26th
they are very punctual in their coming out every year. They
are a small species, about half the size of a May-chaffer, anc
are known in some parts by the name of the fern-chaffer.

Wuits.

A singular circumstance relative to the cockchaffer, or, a:
it is called here, the May-bug (searabeus melolontha), hap.
pened this year (1800) :—My gardener, in digging some
ground, found, about six inches under the surface, two o
these insects alive and perfectly formed, so early as the 24th
of March. When he brought them to me, they appeared tc
be as perfect and as much alive as in the midst of summer
crawling about as briskly as ever: yet I saw no more of thi:
insect till the 22nd of May, when it began to make its
appearance. How comes it, that though it was perfectly
formed so early as the 24th of March,* it did not show
itself above ground till nearly two months afterwards ?

Marxwicx.

Prints Prorricorxis.—Those maggots that make worm.
holes in tables, chairs, bed-posts, &c., and destroy wooder
furniture, especially where there is any sap, are the larva
of the ptinus pectinicornis. This insect, it is probable.
deposits: its eggs on the surface, and the worms eat theu
way in.

In their holes, they turn into their pupe state, and sc
come forth winged in July: eating their way through the

state, but when they have arrived at maturity, for I have frequently observec
them in search’of them on trees and hedges. Mr. White recommends that <
rook should be shot weekly the year through, and its crop examined in orde
to discover whether upon the whole they do more harm or good, from the con-
tents at various periods. | Though his experiment might show that these bird:
occasionally injure corn and turnips, yet their continual consumption of grubs
and wire-worms, and other noxious insects would greatly preponderate in thei)
favour. In fact, I believe rooks to be great friends to the farmer, and it is tc
be regretted that they are often so wantonly destroyed.— Ep.

* T have often observed this fact, and also ascertained that the perfectly
formed chaffer never comes forth till the leaves are on the trees, which they
are not so early as the 24th of March. This is an interesting fact, and shows
how kindly Providence has instilled even into insects the means of self:
preservation. —Ep,

OBSERVATIONS ON INSECTS AND VERMES. 337

valances or curtains of a bed, or any other furniture that
happens to obstruct their passage.

They seem to be most inclined to breed in beech; hence.
beech will not make lasting utensils or furniture. If their
eggs are deposited on the surface, frequent rubbing will
preserve wooden furniture. WHITE.

Buarra Orrentanis (Cockroacn).—A neighbour com-
plained to me that her house was overrun with a kind of
black beetle, or, as she expressed herself, with a kind of
black-bob, which swarmed in her kitchen when they got up
in the morning before daybreak.

Soon after this account, I observed an unusual insect in
one of my dark chimney closets, and find since, that in the
night they swarm also in my kitchen. On examination, I
soon ascertained the species to be the Jblatta orientalis of
Linneus, and the blatta molendinaria of Mouftet. The male
is winged; the female is not, but shows somewhat like the
rudiments of wings, as if in the pupa state.

These insects belonged originally to the warmer parts of
America, and were conveyed from thence by shipping to the
East Indies ; and, by means of commerce, begin to prevail in
the more northern parts of Europe, as Russia, Sweden, &c.
How long they have abounded in England I cannot say ; but
have never observed them in my house till lately.

They love warmth, and haunt chimney closets and the
backs of ovens. Poda says that these and house-crickets will
not associate together ; but he is mistaken in that assertion, as
Linneus suspected he was. They are altogether night-
insects, lucifuge, never coming forth till the rooms are dark
and still, and escaping away nimbly at the approach of a
candle. Their antenne are remarkably long, slender, and
flexile.

October, 1790.—After the servants are gone to bed, the
kitchen hearth swarms with young crickets, and young blatte
molendinarie of all sizes, from the most minute growth to
their full proportions. They seem to live in a friendly
manner together, and not to prey the one on the other.

August, 1792.—After the destruction of many thousands
of blatte molendinaria, we find that at intervals a fresh
detachment of old ones arrives, and particularly during this

Ze

338 OBSERVATIONS ON INSECTS AND VERMES.

hot season ; for, the windows being left open in the evenings,
the males come flying in at the casements from the neigh-
bouring houses, which swarm with them. How the females,
that seem to have no perfect wings that they can use, can
contrive to get from house to house, does not so readily
appear. These, like many insects, when they find their pre-
sent abodes overstocked, have powers of migrating to fresh
quarters. Since the blatte have been so much kept under,
the crickets have greatly increased in number. WHITE.

Grryiivs Domzsticus (Housz Cricxer).—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, che-
rished by the influence of a constant large fire, regard not
the season of the year, but produce their young at a time
when their congeners are either dead or laid up for the
winter, to pass away the uncomfortable months in the
profoundest slumbers, and a state of torpidity.

When house-crickets are out and running about in a room
in the night, if surprised by a candle, they give two or three
shrill notes, as it were for a signal to their fellows, that they
may escape to their crannies and lurking holes, to avoid
danger. WHITE.

Crurx Lryearts.*—August 12, 1775.—Cimices lineares
are now in high copulation on ponds and pools. The females,
who vastly exceed the males in bulk, dart and shoot along on
the surface of the water with the males on their backs. When
a female chooses to be disengaged, she rears, and jumps, and
plunges like an unruly colt; the lover, thus dismounted, soon
finds a new mate. The females, as fast as their curiosities
are satisfied, retire to another part of the lake, perhaps to
deposit their foetus in quiet; hence the sexes are found

* The egg of the long water-bug, Mr. Bennett informs us, has been suffi-
ciently known for many years. It is armed at one end with two bristles, and
is inserted into the stem of an aquatic plant, generally of a club-rush, in which
it is so deeply immersed by the aid of the lengthened ovipositor of the insect, as
to be entirely hidden from view; the bristles alone project from the place of
concealment. The object of this curious arrangement is among the most
beautiful and beneficent of the provisions of Nature,

OBSERVATIONS ON INSECTS AND VERMES. 339

separate, except where generation is going on. From the
multitude of minute young of all gradations of sizes, these
insects seem without doubt to be viviparous. WHITE.

Puatzena Quercus.—Most of our oaks are naked of
leaves, and even the Holt in general, having been ravaged by
the caterpillars of a small phalena, which is of a pale yellow
colour. These insects, though a feeble race, yet, from their
infinite numbers, are of wonderful effect, being able to
destroy the foliage of whole forests and districts. At this
season they leave their aurelia, and issue forth in their fly
state, swarming and covering the trees and hedges.

In a field near Greatham I saw a flight of swifts busied in
ratching their prey near the ground; and found they were
hawking after these phalene. The aurelia of this moth is
shining, and as black as jet; and lies wrapped up in a leaf of
the tree, which is rolled round it, and secured at the ends by
a web, to prevent the maggot from falling out. WuHuitE.

I suspect that the insect here meant is not the phalena
quercus, but the phalena viridata, concerning which I find
the following note in my Naturalist’s Calendar for the year
1785 :—

About this time, and for a few days last past, I observed
the leaves of almost all the oak trees in Denn copse to be
eaten and destroyed, and, on examining more narrowly, saw
an infinite number of small beautiful pale green moths flying
about the trees; the leaves of which, that were not quite
destroyed, were curled up, and withinside were the eruwvie,
or remains, of the chrysalis, from whence I suppose the moths

had issued, and whose caterpillar had eaten the leaves.
Marxwicr.

Epruemera Caupa Bisrra (May Fry).*—June 10, 1771.
Myriads of May flies appeared for the first time on the

* The most extraordinary appearance of May flies I ever witnessed was on
the Colne at Denham near Uxbridge, the hospitable seat of the late John Drum-
mond, Esq. The air was full of them, and the water covered by them. The
whole scene was equally beautiful and surprising, and I have no doubt but that
my old angling-friend, Richard Penn, Esq., will recollect the day aud the

occurrence.—Ep,
z2

340 OBSERVATIONS ON INSECTS AND VERMES.

Alresford stream. The air was crowded with them, and tl
surface of the water covered. Large trouts sucked them 1
as they lay struggling on the surface of the stream, unab.
to rise till their wings were dried.

This appearance reconciled me in some measure to tl
wonderful account that Scopoli gives of the quantitic
emerging from the rivers of Carniola. Their motions a
very peculiar, up and down for many yards almost in
perpendicular line. WHITE.

I once saw a swarm of these insects playing up and dow

‘over the surface of a pond in Denn park, exactly in tk

manner described by this accurate naturalist. It was late i

the evening of a warm summer day when I observed them.
Maxrxwicx.

Spuynx Ocrnnata.—A vast insect appears after it -
dusk, flying with a humming noise, and inserting its tongu
into the bloom of the honeysuckle; it scarcely settles upo
the plants, but feeds on the wing in the manner of hummin;

sbirds. WHIrTe.

T have frequently seen the large bee-moth* (sphynz ste.
fatarum) inserting its long tongue, or proboscis, mto th
centre of flowers, and feeding on their nectar without settlin
on them, but keeping constantly on the wing.

Marxwicx.

Wip Brr.t—There is a sort of wild bee frequenting th
garden-campion for the sake of its tomentum, which probabl
it turns to some purpose in the business of nidification. J]

* This sphynx may almost be thought to be a link between the hummin:
bird and an insect. It is very wild and by no means common in my ow
neighbourhood.—Eb.

+ The mention of bees reminds me of the following pleasing lines «
Pope :—

“The happy bees that with the spring renew

Their flowery toil, and sip the fragrant dew,
When the wing’d colonies first tempt the sky,
O’er dusky fields and shaded waters fly,

Or settling, seize the sweets the blossom yields
And a low murmur runs along the fields.”—-Ep.

- OBSERVATIONS ON INSECTS AND VEEMES. 3841

is very pleasant to see with what address it strips off the
pubes, running from the top to the bottom of a branch, and
shaving it bare with all the dexterity ofa hoop shaver.
‘When it has got a vast bundle, almost as large as itself, it
as away, holding it secure between its chin and its fore
egs.

There is a remarkable hill on the downs near Lewes, in
Sussex, known by the name of Mount Carburn, which over-
looks that town, and affords a most engaging prospect of
all the country round, besides several views of the sea. On
the very summit of this exalted promontory, and amidst the
trenches of its Danish camp, there haunts a species of wild
bee, making its nest in the chalky soil. When people ap-
proach the place, these insects begin to be alarmed, and,
with a sharp and hostile sound, dash and strike round the
heads and faces of intruders. I have often been interrupted
myself, while contemplating the grandeur of the scenery
around me, and have thought myself in danger of being
stung.* WHITE.

Wasrs.— Wasps abound in woody wild districts, far from
neighbourhoods. They feed on flowers, and catch flies and
caterpillars to carry to their young. Wasps make their
nests with the raspings of sound timber ; hornets with what
they gnaw from decayed. These particles of wood are
kneaded up with a mixture of saliva from their bodies, and
moulded into combs.

When there is no fruit in the gardens, wasps eat flies,
and suck the honey from flowers, from ivy-blossoms, and
umbellated plants. They carry off also flesh from the
butchers’ shambles. WHITE.

In the year 1775, wasps abounded so prodigiously in this
neighbourhood, that, in the month of August, no less than
seven or eight of their nests were ploughed up in one field;
of which there were several instances, as I was informed.

In the spring, about the beginning of April, a single wasp
is sometimes seen, which is of a larger size than usual.

* Mr. White had some cause for his apprehension, for these bees sting very
sevcrely.—Eb.

342 OBSERVATIONS ON INSECTS AND VERMES.

This, I imagine, is the queen,* or female wasp, the mother
of the future swarm. Marxwicx.

Cstrus Curvicaupsa.—This insect lays its nits, or eggs,
on horses’ legs, flanks, &e. each on a single hair. The mag-
gots, when hatched, do not enter the horses’ skins, but fall
to the ground. It seems to abound most in moist, moorish
places, though sometimes seen in the uplands. Wutre.

Nosz Fuy.—About the beginning of July, a species of
fly (musca) obtains, which proves very tormenting to horses,
trying still to enter their nostrils and ears, and actually
laying their eggs in the latter of those organs, or perhaps
in both. When these abound, horses in woodland districts
become very impatient at their work, continually tossing
their heads, and rubbing their noses on each other, regard-
less of the driver; so that accidents often ensue. In the
heat of the day, men are often obliged to desist from
ploughing. Saddle-horses are also very troublesome at such
seasons. Country people call this insect the nose fly.

WHITE.

Is not this insect the estrus nasalis of Linneus, so well
described by Mr. Clark, in the third volume of the Linnean
Transactions, under the name of estrus veterinus ?

Marxwick.

Icnyzumon Fry.—I saw lately a small ichneumon fly
attack a spider much larger than itself, on a grass walk.
When the spider made any resistance, the ichneumon ap-
plied her tail to him, and stung him with great vehemence,
so that he soon became dead and motionless. The ichneu-
mon then running backwards, drew her prey very nimbly
over the walk into the standing grass. This spider would
be deposited in some hole where the ichneumon would lay
some eggs; and as soon as the eggs were hatched, the car-
case would afford ready food for the maggots.

* In Mr. White’s MSS., he mentions that he used to give a reward to boys
who brought him these female wasps in the spring, knowing that each of them
would be the parent of a new colony.—Eb.

OBSERVATIONS ON INSECTS AND VERMES. 343

Perhaps some eggs might be injected into the body of the
spider, in the act of stinging. Some ichneumons deposit
their eggs in the aurelia of moths and butterflies.

WHITE.

In my Waturalist’s Calendar for 1795, July 21st, I find
the following note :—

It is not uncommon for some of the species of ichneumon
flies to deposit their eggs in the chrysalis of a butterfly.
Some time ago, I put two of the chrysales of a butterfly into
a box, and covered it with gauze, to discover what species of
butterfly they would produce; but instead of a butterfly, one
of them produced a number of small ichneumon flies.

There are many instances of the great service these little
insects are to mankind in reducing the number of noxious
insects, by depositing their eggs in the soft bodies of their
larve; but none more remarkable than that of the ichneumon
tipula, which pierces the tender body and deposits its eggs
in the larva of the tipula tritici, an insect which, when 1%
abounds greatly, is very prejudicial to the grains of wheat.
This operation I have frequently seen it perform with wonder
and delight. Manrrwicx.

Bompyiius Mupius.—The bombylius medius is much
about in March and the beginning of April, and soon seems
to retire. It is a hairy insect, like a humble-bee, but with
only two wings, and a long straight beak, with which it sucks
the early flowers. The female seems to lay its eggs as it
poises on its wings, by striking its tail on the ground, and
against the grass that stands in its way, in a quick manner,
for several times together. WHITE.

I have often seen this insect fly with great velocity, stop
on a sudden, hang in the air in a stationary position for
some time, and then fly off again; but do not recollect having
ever seen it strike its tail agaiust the ground, or any other
substance. Marxwicx.

Muscwu (Fuius.)*—In the decline of the year, when the

* Three species of English house-flies have now been introduced into

344 OBSERVATIONS ON INSECTS AND VERMES.

mornings and evenings become chilly, many species of flies
(musce) retire into houses, and swarm in the windows.

At first they are very brisk and alert; but, as they grow
more torpid, one cannot help observing that they move
with difficulty, and are scarce able to lift their legs, which
seem as if glued to the glass; and, by degrees, many do
actually stick on till they die in the place.

It has been observed that divers flies, besides their sharp
hooked nails, have also skinny palms or flaps to their feet
whereby they are enabled to stick on glass and other smooth
bodies, and to walk on ceilings with their backs downward,
by means of the pressure of the atmosphere on those flaps ;
the weight of which they easily overcome in warm weather,
when they are brisk and alert. But, in the decline of the
year, this resistance becomes too mighty for their diminished
strength; and we see flies labouring along, and lugging
their feet in windows, as if they stuck fast to the glass, and
it is with the utmost difficulty they can draw one foot
after another, and disengage their hollow caps from the
slippery surface. :

Upon the same principle that flies stick and support them-
selves, do boys, by way of play, carry heavy weights by only
a piece of wet leather, at the end of a string, clapped close
on the surface of a stone. WHITE.

TrpuLz, orn Emprprs.—May.—Millions of empedes, or
tipule, come forth at the close of day, and swarm to such a
degree as to fill the air. At this juncture they sport and
copulate ; as it grows more dark, they retire. All day they
hide in the hedges. As they rise in a cloud, they appear
like smoke. nae

I do not ever remember to have seen such swarms, except
in the fens of the Isle of Ely. They appear most over grass
grounds. WHITE.

ApuipEs.—On the first of August, about half an hour
after three in the afternoon, the people of Selborne were

Australia, where they promise soon to be a complete pest. Nature does not
appear to have made any provision to guard against this great increase of insects
by means of insectivorous birds.—Ep.

OBSERVATIONS ON INSECTS AND VERMES. 345

surprised by a shower of aphides, which fell in these parts.
They who were walking the streets at that time, found them-
selves covered with these insects, which settled also on the
trees and gardens, and blackened all the vegetables where
they alighted. These armies, no doubt, were then ina state of
emigration, and shifting their quarters ; and might, perhaps,
come from the great hop plantations of Kent or Sussex, the
wind being that day at north. They were observed at the
same time at Farnham, and all along the Vale at Alton.
WHITE.

Ants.*—August 23.—Every ant-hill, about this time, is
in a strange hurry and confusion; and all the winged ants, |
agitated by some violent impulse, are leaving their homes,
and, bent on emigration, swarm by myriads in the air, to
the great emolument of the hirudines, which fare luxuriously.
Those that escape the swallows, return no more to their
nests, but, looking out for fresh settlements, lay a foundation
for future colonies. All the females at this time are preg-
nant; the males that escape being eaten, wander away and die.

October 2.—F lying ants, male and female, usually swarm
and migrate on hot sunny days in August and September ;
but this day a vast emigration took place in my garden, and
myriads came forth, in appearance, from the drain which
goes under the fruit wall; filling the air and the adjoining
trees and shrubs with their numbers. The females were
full of eggs. This late swarming is probably owing to the
backward wet season. The day following, not one flying ant
was to be seen.

Horse ants travel home to their nests laden with flies,
which they have caught, and the aurelie of smaller ants,
which they seize by violence. Waite.

In my WNatwralist’s Calendar for the year 1777, on

* Mr. White in his unpublished MSS., states that “a colony of black ants
comes forth every Midsummer from under my staircase, which stands in the
middle of my house ; and as soon as the males and females (which fill all the
windows and rooms) are flown away, the workers retire under the stairs, and
are seen no more. It does not appear how this nest can have any communica-
tion with the garden and yard; and if not, how can these ants subsist in
perpetual darkness and confinement ?’”—Ep.

346 OBSERVATIONS ON INSECTS AND VERMES.

September 6th, I find the following note to the article,
Flying Ants :—

I saw a prodigious swarm of these ants flying about the
top of some tall elm trees close by my house; some were
continually dropping to the ground as if from the trees, and
others rising up from the ground: many of them were joined
together in copulation: and I imagine their life is but short
for as soon as produced from the egg by the heat of the sun,
they propagate their species, and soon after perish. They
were black, somewhat like the small black ant, and had fow
wings. I saw, also, at another place, a large sort, which
were yellowish. On the 8th of September, 1785, I again
observed the same circumstance of a vast number of these
insects flying near the tops of the elms, and dropping to the

ound.

On the 2nd of March, 1777, I saw great numbers of ants
come out of the ground. Marxwicx.

Giow-worms.— By observing two glow-worms, which
were brought from the field to the bank in the garden,
it appeared to us that these little creatures put out their
lamps between eleven and twelve, and shine no more for the
rest of the night. »

Male glow-worms, attracted by the light of the candles,
come into the parlour. WHITE.

Esrra-worms.—LHarth-worms make their casts most in
mild weather, about March and April; they do not lie torpid
in winter, but come forth when there is no frost; they
travel about in rainy nights, as appears from their sinuous
tracks on the soft muddy soil, perhaps in search of food.

When earth-worms he out a-nights on the turf, though
they extend their bodies a great way, they do not quite leave
their holes, but keep the ends of their tails fixed therein, so
that, on the least alarm, they can retire with precipitation
under the earth.* Whatever food falls within their reach

* T have observed the same fact with respect to eels in Windermere lake,
Westmoreland, On a perfectly calm day, while in a boat, I have seen eels,
with the ends of their tails remaining in their holes, slide back into them, like
earth-worms, on being disturbed.—-Ep.

THe GARDEN SNAIL. (Helix aspe7'sd.)

OBSERVATIONS ON INSECTS AND VERMES. 347

when thus extended, they seem to be content with,—such
as blades of grass, straws, fallen leaves, the ends of which
they often draw into their holes; even in copulation, their
hinder parts never quit their holes: so that no two, except
they lie within reach of each other’s bodies, can have any
commerce of that kind; but, as every individual is an her-
maphrodite, there is no difficulty in meeting with a mate ag
would be the case were they of different sexes. WHuITE.

Saris anp Stues.—The shell-less snails called slugs are
in motion all the winter, in mild weather, and commit great
depredations on garden plants, and much injure the green
wheat, the loss of which is imputed to earth-worms ; while
the shelled snail, the gepeouxos, does not come forth at all till
about April 10th, and not only lays itself up pretty early in
autumn, in places secure from frost, but also throws out
round the mouth of its shell a thick operculum formed from
its own saliva; so that it is perfectly secured, and corked up,
as it were, from all inclemencies. The cause why the slugs
are able to endure the cold so much better than shell-snails
is, that their bodies are covered with slime, as whales are
with blubber.*

Snails copulate about midsummer ; and soon after deposit
their eggs in the mould, by running their heads and bodies
under ground. Hence, the way to be rid of them is, to kill
as many as possible before they begin to breed.

Large, gray, shell-less cellar snails lay themselves up about
the same time with those that live abroad; hence, it is plain
that a defect of warmth is not the only cause that influences
their retreat. WHitt.

SNAKE’S SLOUGH.

—— There the snake throws her enamell’d skin.
SHAKSPEARE, Mids. Night’s Dream.

About the middle of this month (September) we found, in
a field near a hedge, the slough of a large snake, which

seemed to have been newly cast. From circumstances, it
appeared as if turned wrong side outward, and as drawn off

* The slug is covered with a much thicker slime than the shelled
snail_—Eb.

348 OBSERVATIONS ON INSECTS AND VERMES.

backward, like a stocking, or woman’s glove.* Not only the
whole skin, but scales from the very eyes, are peeled off, and
appear in the head. of the slough like a pair of spectacles.
The reptile, at the time of changing his coat, had entangled
himself intricately in the grass aad weeds, so that the friction
of the stalks and blades might promote this curious shifting
of his exuvie—

“ Lubrica serpens
Exuit in spinis vestem.’”—Lucret.

Smooth serpents that in thickets leave their skin.

It would be a most entertaining sight, could a person be
an eyewitness to such a feat, and see the snake in the act of
changing his garment. As the convexity of the scales of the
eyes in the slough is now inward, that circumstance alone is
a proof that the skin has been turned: not to mention that
now the present inside is much darker than the outer. If
you look through the scales of the snake’s eyes from the
concave side, viz. as the reptile used them, they lessen objects
much. Thus it appears, from what has been said, that snakes
crawl out of the mouth of their own sloughs, and quit the
tail part last, just as eels are skinned by a cook-maid. While
the scales of the eyes are growing loose, and a new skin is
forming, the creature, in appearance, must be blind, and feel
itself in an awkward, uneasy situation. WHITE.

I have seen many sloughs, or skins of snakes, entire, after
they have cast them off; and once, in particular, I remember
to have found one of these sloughs so intricately interwoven
amongst some brakes, that it was with difficulty removed
without being broken: this undoubtedly was done by the
creature to assist in getting rid of its encumbrance.

Ihave great reason to suppose that the eft, or common
lizard, also casts its skin, or slough, but not entire like the
snake; for, on the 30th of March, 1777, I saw one with
something ragged hanging to it, which appeared to be part
of its old skin. Marxkwick.

* “ The snake, renew’d in all his speckled pride
Of pompous youth, has cast his slough aside ;
And in his summer livery rolls along,
Erect, and brandishing his forked tongue.” Drypen.—Ep.

OBSERVATIONS ON VEGETABLES. 3849

OBSERVATIONS ON VEGETABLES.

ee
TREES, ORDER OF LOSING THEIR LEAVES.

Ons of the first trees that become naked is the walnut; the
mulberry, the ash, especially if it bears many keys, and the
horse-chestnut come next. All lopped trees, while their
heads are young, carry their leaves a long while. Apple-trees
and peaches remain green very late, often till the end of
November : young beeches never cast their leaves till spring,
till the new leaves sprout and push them off: in the autumn,
the beechen leaves turn of a deep chestnut colour. Tall
beeches cast their leaves about the end of October.
WHITE.

Sizzr anp GrowtH.—Mr. Marsham, of Stratton, near
Norwich, informs me by letter thus: “I became a planter
early; so that an oak, which I planted in 1720, is become.
now, at one foot from the earth, 12 feet 6 inches in circum-
ference, and at 14 feet (the half of the timber length), is
8 feet 2 inches. So, if the bark were to be measured as
timber, the tree gives 116} feet, buyer’s measure. Perhaps
you never heard of a larger oak, while the planter was living.
I flatter myself that I increased the growth by washing the
stem, and digging a circle as far as I supposed the roots to
extend, and by spreading sawdust, &c., as related in the
Phil. Trans. I wish I had begun with beeches (any favourite
trees, as well as yours); I might then have seen very large
trees of my own raising. But I did not begin with beech
till 1741, and then by seed; so that my largest is now 5 feet
from the ground, 6 feet 3 inches im girth, and, with its head,
spreads a circle of 20 yards diameter. This tree was also
dug round, washed, &c. Stratton, 24th July, 1790.”

850 OBSERVATIONS ON VEGETABLES.

The circumference of trees planted by myself, at one foot
from the ground (1790) :—

Feet. Inches,

Oak in . p P ‘ . 1730. . 4 5
Ash . . F » « 1730 « 4 64
Great fir , 5 3 4 ALOE « anes) 0
Greatest beec! A a4 OL . 4 0
Elm. ‘ : 3 L750 « a, 40 3
Lime ‘ ‘ j . . 1756 5 5

The great oak in the Holt, which is deemed by Mr. Marsham
to be the biggest in this island, at 7 feet from the ground,
measures, in circumference, 34 feet. It has, in old times,
lost several of its boughs, and is tending to decay. Mr.
Marsham computes that, at 14 feet length, this oak contains
1000 feet of timber.

It has been the received opinion that trees grow in height
only by their annual upper shoot. But my neighbour over
the way, whose occupation confines him to one spot, assures
me that trees are expanded and raised in the lower parts
also. The reason that he gives is this: the point of one of
my firs began, for the first time, to peer over an opposite
roof at the beginning of summer; but, before the growing
season was over, the whole shoot of the year, and three or
four joints of the body beside, became visible to him as he
sits on his form in his shop. According to this supposition,
a tree may advance in height considerably, though the
summer shoot should be destroyed every year. WHITE.

Friowrne oF Sap.—lf the bough of a vine is cut late in
the spring, just before the shoots push out, it will bleed con-
siderably ; but, after the leaf is out, any part may be taken
off without the least inconvenience. So oaks may be barked
while the leaf is budding ; but, as soon as they are expanded,
the bark will no longer part from the wood, because the sap
that lubricates the bark, and makes it part, is evaporated off
through the leaves. WHITE.

Rewovation oF Leaves.—When oaks are quite stripped
of their leaves by chaffers, they are clothed again soon after
midsummer with a beautiful foliage; but beeches, horse-

OBSERVATIONS ON VEGETABLES. 351

chestnuts, and mapies, once defaced by those insects, never
recover their beauty again for the whole season.*
WHITE.

Asn Trers.—Many ash trees bear loads of keys every
year ; others never seem to bear any at all. The prolific
ones are naked of leaves, and unsightly; those that are
sterile abound in foliage, and carry their verdure a long
while, and are pleasing objects. WHITE.

Brrcu.—Beeches love to grow in crowded situations, and
will insinuate themselves through the thickest covert, so as
to surmount it all: they are therefore proper to mend thin
places in tall hedges. WHITE.

Sycamorr.—May 12.—The sycamore, or great maple, is
in bloom, and at this season makes a beautiful appearance,
and affords much pabulum for bees, smelling strongly like
honey. The foliage of this tree is very fine, and very orna-
mental to outlets. All the maples have saccharine juices.

WHITE.

Gatis or Lomparpy Pornar.t—tThe stalks and ribs of
the leaves of the Lombardy poplar are embossed with large
tumours of an oblong shape, which, by incurious observers,
have been taken for the fruit of the tree. These galls are
full of small insects, some of which are winged, and some
not. The parent insect is of the genus of cynips. Some
poplars in the garden are quite loaded with these pence

HITE,

Curstyur Timprr.—John Carpenter brings home some

*,. . . See, the fading, many-coloured woods,
Shade, deepening over shade, the country round
Imbrown.” Tuomson.—Eb.

+ “ The pale, descending year, yet pleasing still,
A gentler mood inspires; for now the leaf
Incessant rustles from the mournful grove,
Oft startling such as studious walk below,
And slowly circles through the waving air.”

Tuomson’s Aurumn.—Ep,

,

352 OBSERVATIONS ON VEGETABLES.

old chestnut trees, which are very long; in several places
the woodpeckers had begun to bore them. The timber and
bark of these trees are so very like oak, as might easily
deceive an indifferent observer ; but the wood is very shakey,
and, towards the heart cup-shakey (that is to say, apt to
separate in round pieces like cups), so that the inward parts
are of no use. They are bought for the purpose of cooperage,
but must make but ordinary barrels, buckets, &. Chestnut
sells for half the price of oak ; but has sometimes been sent
into the king’s dock, and passed off instead of oak.
WUSITE.

Limrt Brossoms.—Dr. Chandler tells, that in the south
of France an infusion of the blossoms of the lime-tree (Zilia)
is in much esteem as a remedy for coughs, hoarsenesses,
fevers, &c.; and that at Nismes, he saw an avenue of limes
that was quite ravaged and torn in pieces by people greedily
gathering the bloom, which they dried and kept for these
purposes.

Upon the strength of the information, we made some tea
of lime blossoms; and found it a very soft, well-flavoured,
pleasant, saccharine julep, in taste much resembling the
Juice of liquorice. WHITE.

Buacxtuorn.—This tree usually blossoms while cold
N.E. winds blow; so that the harsh rugged weather ob-
taining at this season, is called by the country people black-
thorn winter.* WHITE.

Ivy Bzrrizs.—lIvy berries afford a noble and providential
supply for birds in winter and spring; for the first severe
frost freezes and spoils all the haws, sometimes by the
middle of November. Ivy berries do not seem to freeze.

WHITE.

* “Filed is the blasted verdure of the fields,
And, shrunk into their beds, the flowery race
Their sunny robes resign. E’en what remain'’d
Of stronger fruits, falls from the naked tree;
And woods, fields, gardens, orchards, all around
The desolated prospect thrills the soul.” THomson.——Ep.

OBSERVATIONS ON VEGETABLES. 353

Hors.—The culture of Virgil’s vines corresponded very
exactly with the modern management of hops. I might
instance in the perpetual diggings and hoeings, in the tying
to the stakes and poles, in pruning the superfluous shoots,
&e.; but lately I have observed a new circumstance, which
was, a neighbouring farmer’s harrowing between the rows
of hops with a small triangular harrow, drawn by one horse,
and guided by two handles. This occurrence brought to my
mind the following passage :—

- “ipsa
Flectere luctantes inter vineta juvencos.”
Georgic I.

The struggling steers between the vine-rows bend.

Hops are diccious plants: hence, perhaps, it might be
proper, though not practised, to leave purposely some male
plants in every garden, that their farina might impregnate
the blossoms. The female plants, without their male at-
tendants, are not in their natural state: hence we may
suppose the frequent failure of ou so incident to hop-
grounds. No other growth, cultivated by man, has such fre-
quent and general failures as hops.

Two hop-gardens much injured by a hail-storm, June 5,.
show now (September 2) a prodigious crop, and larger and
fairer hops than any in the parish. The owners seem now
to be convinced that the hail by beating off the tops of the.
binds has increased the side-shoots, and improved the crop..
Query. Therefore, should not the tops of hops be pinched
off when the binds are very gross and strong? § WHITE.

SEED LYING DORMANT.—The naked part of the Hanger
is now covered with thistles of various kinds. The seeds of
these thistles may have lain probably under the thick shade
of the beeches for many years, but could not vegetate till
the sun and air were admitted. When old beech-trees are
cleared away, the naked ground, in a year or two, becomes
covered with strawberry plants, the seeds of which must
have Jain in the ground for an age at least. One of the
slidders, or trenches, down the middle of the Hanger, close
covered over with lofty beeches near a century old, is still

called sérawberry-slidder, though no strawberries have grown
AA

854 OBSERVATIONS ON VEGETABLES.

there in the memory of man. That sort of fruit did once, no
doubt abound there, and will again, when the obstruction ia
removed.* WHITE.

Brans sown py Brrps.—-Many horse-beans sprang up
in my field-walks in the autumn, and are now grown to a
considerable height. As the Ewel was in beans last summer,
it is most likely that these seeds came from thence; but
then the distance is too considerable for them to have been
conveyed by mice. It is most probable, therefore, that they
were brought by birds, and, in particular, by jays and pies,
who seem to have hid them among the grass and moss, and
then to have forgotten where they had stowed them. Some
peas are growing also in the same situation, and probably
under the same circumstances. WHITE.

CucumBERS seET BY Brrs.—If bees, who are much the
best setters of cucumbers, do not happen to take kindl
to the frames, the best way is to tempt them by a little
honey, put on the meal and female bloom. When they are
once induced to haunt the frames, they set all the fruit, and
will hover with impatience round the lights in a morning,
till the glasses are opened. Proved by experience.

WHITE.

Wueat.—A notion has always obtained, that, in England,
hot summers are productive of fine crops of wheat ; yet in the
years 1780 and 1781, though the heat was intense, the wheat
was much mildewed, and the crop light. Does not severe
heat, while the straw is milky, occasion its juices to exude,
which being extravasated, occasion spots, discolour the
stems and blades, and injure the health of the plants ?

WHITE.

Trurries.—August.—A truffle-hunter called on us,

* In breaking up old turf in making plantations in the royal parks, and
which probably had not been disturbed for centuries, I have had several
opportunities of observing the vegetation of plants which had not previously
been observed in the neighbourhood. For instauce, in Bushy Park, heart’s-
ease, and the tree mignonette (reseda Iuteola) appeared in abundance. I also
saw the blue columbine in a plantation in Devonshire-—Epb.

OBSERVATIONS ON VEGETABLES. 355

having in his pocket several large truffles found in this
neighbourhood.* He says, these roots are not to be found in
deep woods, but in narrow hedge-rows and the skirts of
coppices. Some truffles, he informed us, lie two feet within
the earth, and some quite on the surface; the latter, he
added, have little or no smell, and are not so easily dis-
covered by the dogs as those that lie deeper. Half-a-crown
a pound was the price which he asked for this commodity.
Truffies never abound in wet winters and springs. They
are in season, in different situations, at least nine months in
the year. WHITE.

TrremeLLta Nostoc.—Though the weather may have been
ever so dry and burning, yet, after two or three wet days,
this jelly-lhke substance abounds on the walks. WHITE.

Farry Rives.t{—The cause, occasion, call it what you will,
of fairy rings, subsists in the turf, and is conveyable with it;
for the turf of my garden-walks, brought from the down
above, abounds with those appearances, which vary their
shape, and shift situation continually, discovering themselves
now in circles, now in segments, and sometimes in irregular
patches and spots. Wherever they obtain, puff-balls abound;
the seeds of which were doubtless brought in the turf.

WHITE.

* Mr. Herbert says that many years ago an immense stock of very small
truffles crowded together under a young cedar-tree upon the lawn near Lord
Carnarvon’s charming seat at Highclere. The experiment of transplanting
several of these and setting them under beech-trees, was tried successfully.

They increased in size, and became much finer than those which were
left— Ep.

+ In those years when there is a failure of mushrooms, there is generally
a failure of truffles, so that some secret cause influences alike these analogous
productions of nature.—Ep,

t The fungi tribe, from their circular shape, shed their seed in a circle
around them. This in time produces regular circles or segments. The
freshness of the grass is probably prodnced by the moisture derived from the
fungi. Aman on the Brighton downs who was employed in digging for
flints, assured me that when he worked under a fairy ring he never could per-
ceive any difference in the sub-soil—Ep.

2AA

356 METEOROLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS.

METEOROLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS.

—_e—.

Barometer.—November 22, 1768.—A remarkable fall of
the barometer all over the kingdom. At Selborne, we had
no wind, and not much rain; only vast, swagging, rock-like
clouds appeared at a distance. WHITE.

Partrat FRrost.—The country people, who are abroad in
winter mornings long before sun-rise, talk much of hard
frost in some spots, and none in others. The reason of these
partial frosts is obvious, for there are at such times partial
fogs about : where the fog obtains, little or no frost appears ;
but where the air is clear, there it freezes hard. So the
frost takes place either on hill or in dale, wherever the air
happens to be clearest and freest from vapour. WHITE.

Taaw.—Thaws are sometimes surprisingly quick, consi-
dering the small quantity of rain. Does not the warmth at
such times come from below? The cold in still, severe sea-
sons, seems to come down from above: for the coming over
of a cloud in severe nights raises the thermometer abroad at
once full ten degrees. The first notices of thaws often seem
to appear in vaults, cellars, &c.

If a frost happens, even when the ground is considerably
dry, as soon as a thaw takes place the paths and fields are all
in a batter. Country people say that the frost draws mois-
ture. But the true philosophy is, that the steam and vapours
continually ascending from the earth, are bound in by the
frost, and not suffered to escape, till released by the thaw.
No wonder, then, that the surtace is all in a float; since the
quantity of moisture by evaporation that arises daily from
every acre of ground is astonishing. WHITE.

Frozen Suerr.—January 20.—Mr. H.’s man says, that
he caught this day, in a lane near Hackwood-park, many
rooks, which, attempting to fly, fell from the trees with their

METEOROLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS. 357

wings frozen together by the sleet that froze as it fell.
There were, he affirms, many dozen so disabled. Wurrn.

Mist, catteEp Lonpon Smoxr.—This is a blue mist,
which has somewhat the smell of coal-smoke, and as it
always comes to us with a north-east wind, is supposed to
come from London. It has a strong smell, and is supposed
to occasion blights. When such mists appear, they are
usually followed by dry weather. Waite.

Reriection on Foe.*—When people walk in deep white
fog by night with a lantern, if they will turn their backs to
the light, they will see their shades impressed on the fog in
rude gigantic proportions. This phenomenon seems not to
have been attended to, but implies the great density of the
meteor at that juncture. WHITE,

Honzy Dew.j—June 4, 1783.—Vast honey dews this
week. The reason of these seems to be, that in hot days the
effluvia of flowers are drawn up by brisk evaporation, and
then in the night fall down with the dews, with which they
are entangled.t

This clammy substance is very grateful to bees, who gather
it with great assiduity ; but it is injurious to the trees on
which it happens to full, by stopping the pores of the leaves.
The greatest quantity falls in still, close weather; because
winds disperse it, and copious dews dilute it, and prevent its
ill effects. It falls mostly in hazy, warm weather. Wuuirr.

* The country people look with a kind of superstitious awe at the red
lowering aspect of the sun through a fog. “Cum caput obscura nitidum
ferrugine texit."—Mr. Wuite’s MSS.—Epb.

+ Honey-dew is the exuvie of insects. They are little green aphides and
harbour under the leaves of trees, from whence their dew is dropped on the
leaves below. This is collected by bees and ants; the latter are very careful
not to injure the insect, as I have frequently observed. It seems extra-
ordinary that so observant a naturalist as Mr. White should have been ignorant
of this circumstance. He mentions in one of his MSS. that one of his trees
was covercd with aphides and viscous honey-dews.—Eb.

x It will hardly be deemed a discredit to an observer so patient, so ©
accurate, and so faithful, as Mr. White, to mention, that his conjecture con-
cerning the origin of honey-dew is erroneous; the subject has been elucidated
by the observations of Mr. William Curtis, who has discovered it to be the
«excrement of the aphides.” See Zransact. of the Linnean Society, vol. vi.
No. 4.—MitForp.

358 METEOROLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS.

Morwnine Croups.—After a bright night and vast dews,
the sky usually becomes cloudy by eleven or twelve o'clock
in the forenoon, and clear again towards the decline of the
day. The reason seems to be, that the dew drawn up by
evaporation occasions the clouds; which, towards evening,
being no longer rendered buoyant by the warmth of the sun,
melt away, and fall down'again in dews. If clouds are
watched in a still, warm evening, they will be seen to melt
away and disappear. WHITr.

Drirring WEATHER arreR Drovant.—No one that has
not attended to such matters, and taken down remarks, can
be aware how much ten days dripping weather will influence
the growth of grass or corn after a severe dry season. This

resent summer, 1776, yielded a remarkable instance ; for,
till the 30th of May, the fields were burnt up and naked, and
the barley not half out of the ground; but now, June 10,
there is an agreeable prospect of plenty. WHITE.

Avrora Borzatrts.— November 1, 1787.—The north
aurora made a particular appearance, forming itself into a
broad, red, fiery belt, which extended from east to west
across the welkin: but the moon rising at about ten o’clock,
in unclouded majesty, in the east, put an end to this grand,
but awful, meteorous phenomenon. WHITE.

Brack Sprite, 1771.—Dr. Johnson says, that “in 1771
the season was so severe in the Island of Skye, that it is
remembered by the name of the black spring. The snow,
which seldom les at all, covered the ground for eight weeks ;
many cattle died, and those that survived were so emaciated,
that they did not require the male at the usual season.”’ The
case was just the same with us here in the south; never
were so many barren cows known as in the spring following
that dreadful period. Whole dairies missed bemg in calf
together.

At the end of March, the face of the earth was naked to a
surprising degree: wheat hardly to be seen, and no signs of
any grass; turnips all gone, and sheep in a starving way ; all
provisions rising in price. Farmers cannot sow for want of
rain. WHITE.

SUMMARY OF THE WEATHER

en ay

MEASURE OF RAIN IN INCHES AND HUNDREDS.

Year. Jan. | Feb. | Mar. | April. | May. | June. | July. | Aug. | Sept. | Oct. | Nov. | Dee. Total.
1782 4.64 | 198 | 6.54 | 4.57 | 6.34 | 1.75 | 7.09 | 8.28 | 3.72 | 1.93 | 2.51 | 0.91 50.26
1783 4.43 | 5.54 | 2.16 | 0.88 | 2.84 | 2.82 | 1.45 | 2.24 | 5.52 | 1.71 | 3.01 | 1.10 33.71
1784 3.18 | 0.77 | 3.82 | 3.92 | 1.52 | 3.65 | 240 | 3.88 | 2.51 | 0.39 | 4.70 | 3.06 33.80
1785 2.84 | 1.80 | 0.30 | 0.17 | 0.60 | 1.89 | 380 | 3.21 | 5.94 | 5.21 | 2.27 | 4.20 31.55
1786 6,91 | 142 | 162 | 1.81 | 240 | 1.20 | 1.99 | 4.34 | 4.79 | 5.40 | 4.38 _ _
1787 0.88 | 3.67 | 428 | 0.74 | 2.60 | 1.50 | 6.53 | 0.83 |°1.56 5.40 | 4.9 5.60 36.24
1788 1.60 | 3.37 | 1.81 | 0.61 | 0.76 © 1.27 | 3.58 | 322 | 5.71 | — 0.86 | 0.23 22.50
1789 448 | 4.11 | 2.47 | 1.81 | 4.50 | 4.24 | 3.69 | 0.99 | 2.82 | 5.40 | 3.67 | 4.62 42.00
1790 1.99 | 0.49 | 0.45 | 3.64 | 4.38 | 0.13 | 3.24 | 2.30 | 0.66 | 2.10 | 6.95 | 5.94 82.27
1791 6.73 | 4.64 | 1.59 | 1.13 | 1.33 | 0.91 | 5.66 | 1.73 | 1.73 | 6.49 | 8.16 | 4.93 44,93
1792 6.70 | 1.68 | 6.70 | 4.08 | 3.00 | 2.78 | 5.16 | 4.25 | 5.53 | 5.55 | 1.65 | 2.11 48.56
1793 3.71 | 232 | 3.33 | 3.19 | 1.21

360 SUMMARY OF THE WEATHER.

SUMMARY OF THE WEATHER.

sor He gree es

1768. Begins with a fortnight’s frost and snow; rainy
during February. Cold and wet spring; wet season from
the beginning of June to the end of harvest. Latter end of
September foggy, without rain. All October and the first
part of November rainy ; and thence to the end of the year
alternate rains and frosts.

1769. January and February, frosty and rainy, with
gleams of fine weather in the intervals. To the middle of
March, wind and rain. To the end of March dry and windy.
To the middle of April stormy, with rain. To the end of
June, fine weather, with rain. To the beginning of August,
warm, dry weather. To the end of September, rainy, with
short intervals of fine weather. To the latter end of October,
frosty mornings, with fine days. The next fortmght rainy ;
thence to the end of November, dry and frosty. December,
windy, with rain and intervals of frost, and the first fortnight
very foggy.

1770. Frost for the first fortnight’; during the 14th and
15th, all the snow melted. To the end of February, mild,
hazy weather. The whole of March, frosty, with bright
weather. April cloudy, with rain and snow. May began
with summer showers, and ended with dark cold rains.
June rainy, chequered with gleams of sunshine. ‘The first
fortnight m July, dark and sultry; the latter part of the
month, heavy rain. August, September, and the first fort-
night in October, in general fine weather, though with fre-
quent interruptions of rain ; from the middle of October to
the end of the year, almost incessant rains.

1771. Severe frosts till the last. week in January. To
the first week in February, rain and snow; to the end of
February, spring weather. To the end of the third week in
April, frosty weather. To the end of the first fortnight in
May, spring weather with copious showers. To the end of

SUMMARY OF THE WEATHER. 361

June, dry, warm weather. The first fortnight in July, warm,
rainy weather. To the end of September, warm weather,
but in general cloudy, with showers. October rainy. No-
vember frost, with intervals of fog and rain. December, in
general, bright, mild weather, with hoar frosts.

1772. To the end of the first week in February, frost
and snow. To the end of the first fortnight in March, frost,
sleet, rain, and snow. To the middle of April, cold rains.
To the middle of May, dry weather, with cold piercing
winds. To the end of the first week in June, cool showers.
To the middle of August, hot, dry, summer weather. To the
end of September, rain, with storms and thunder. To De-
cember 22, rain, with mild weather. December 23, the first
ice. To the end of the month, cold, foggy weather.

1773. The first week in January, frost; thence to the
end of the month, dark, rainy weather. The first fortnight
in February, hard frost. To the end of the first week in
March, misty showery weather. Bright spring days to the
close of the month. Frequent showers to the latter end of
April. To the end of June, warm showers, with intervals of
sunshine. To the end of August, dry weather, with a few
days of rain. To the end of the first fortnight in November,
rainy. The next four weeks, frost; and thence to the end of
the year, rainy.

1774. Frost and rain to the end of the first fortnight in
March ; thence to the end of the month, dry weather. To
the 15th of April, showers; thence to the end of April,
fine spring days. During May, showers and sunshine in
about an equal proportion. Dark, rainy weather to the end
of the third week in July; thence to the 24th of August,
sultry, with thunder and occasional showers. To the end of
the third week in November, rain, with frequent intervals
of sunny weather. To the end of December, dark, dripping
fogs.

A775. To the end of the first fortnight in March, rain
almost every day. To the first week in April, cold winds,
with showers of rain and snow. ‘To the end of June, warm,
bright weather, with frequent showers. The first fortnight
in July almost incessant rains. To the 26th of August,
sultry weather, with frequent showers. To the end of the
third week in September, rain, with a few intervals of fino

362 SUMMARY OF THE WEATHER.

weather. To the end of the year, rain, with intervals of hoar-
frost and sunshine.

1776. To January 24, dark, frosty weather, with much
snow. March 24, to the end of the month, foggy, with hoar-
frost. To the 30th of May, dark, dry, harsh weather, with
cold winds. To the end of the first fortnight in July, warm,
with much rain. To the end of the first week in August,
hot and dry, with intervals of thunder showers. To the end
of October, in general fine seasonable weather, with a consi-
derable proportion of rain. To the end of the year, dry,
frosty weather, with some days of hard rain.

1777. To the 10th of January, bard frost. To the 20th
of January, foggy, with frequent showers. To the 18th of
February, hard, dry frost, with snow. To the end of May,
heavy showers, with intervals of warm dry spring days. To
the Sth of July, dark, with heavy rain. To the 18th of July,
dry, warm weather. To the end of July, very heavy rains.
To the 12th of October, remarkably fine, warm weather.
To the end of the year, gray mild weather, with, but little
rain, and still less frost.

1778. To the 18th of January, frost with a little snow;
to the 24th of January, rain ; to the 30th, hard frost. To
the 23rd February, dark, harsh, fogey weather, with rain.
To the end of the month, hard frost with snow. To the end
of the first fortnight in March, dark, harsh weather. From
the Ist to the end of the first fortnight in April, spring
weather. To the end of the month, snow andice. To the
11th of June, cool, with heavy showers. To the 19th of July,
hot, sultry, parching weather. To the end of the month,
heavy showers. To the end of September, dry, warm weather.
To the end of the year, wet, with considerable intervals of
sunshine.

1779. Frost and showers to the end of January. To the
21st of April, warm, dry weather. To 8th of May, rainy.
To the 7th June, dry and warm. To the 6th July, hot
weather, with frequent rain. To the 18th July, dry, hot
weather. To August 8th, hot weather, with frequent rains.
To the end of August, fine dry harvest weather. To the
end of November, fine autumnal weather, with intervals of
rain. To the end of the year, rain with frost and snow.

1780. To the end of January, frost. To the end of

SUMMARY OF THE WEATHER. 363

February, dark, harsh weather, with frequent intervals of
frost. ‘To the end of March, warm, showery, spring weather.
To the end of April, dark, harsh weather, with rain and frost.
To the end of the first fortnight in May, mild, with rain. To
the end of August, rain and fair weather in pretty equal
proportions. To the end of October, fine autumnal weather,
with intervals of rain. To the 24th of November, frost. To
December 16, mild, dry, foggy weather. To the end of the
year, frost and snow.

1781. To January 25, frost and snow. To the end of
February, harsh and windy, with rain and snow. To April 5,
cold, drying winds. To the end of May, mild spring weather,
with a few light showers. June began with heavy rain, but
thence to the end of October, dry weather, with a few flying
showers. To the end of the year, open weather, with frequent
rains.

1782. To February 4, open, mild weather. To February
22, hard frost. To the end of March, cold, blowing weather,
with frost, and snow, and rain. To May 7, cold, dark rains.
To the end of May, mild, with incessant rains. To the end
of June, warm and dry. To the end of August, warm, with
almost perpetual rains. The first fortnight in September,
mild and dry: thence to the end of the month, rain. To the
end of October, mild, with frequent showers. November
began with hard frost, and continued throughout, with alter-
nate frost and thaw. The first part of December frosty ; the
latter part mild.

1783. To January 16, rainy, with heavy winds. To the
24th, hard frost. To the end of the first fortnight in February,
blowing, with much rain. To the end of February, stormy,
dripping weather. To the 9th of May, cold, harsh winds
(thick ice on 5th of May). To the end of August, hot
weather, with frequent showers. To the 23rd September,
mild, with heavy driving rams. To November 12th, dry,
mild weather. ‘To the 18th December, gray, soft weather,
with a few showers. ‘To the end of the year, hard frost.

1784. To February 19, hard frost, with two thaws; one
the 14th January, the other 5th February. To February 28,
mild, wet fogs. To the 3rd March, frost, with ice. To
March 10, sleet and snow. To April 2, snow and hard frost.
To April 27, mild weather, with much rain. To May 12,

364 SUMMARY OF THE WEATHER.

cold, drying winds. To May 20, hot, cloudless weather. To
June 27, warm, with frequent showers. To July 18, hot, and
dry. To the end of August, warm, with heavy rains. T'o
November 6, clear, mild, autumnal weather, except a few
days of rain at the latter end of September. To the end of
the year, fog, rain, and hard frost (on December 10, the
therm. 1 degree below 0).

1785. A thaw began on the 2nd of January, and rainy
weather, with wind, continued to January 28. To 15th
March, very hard frost. To 21st March, mild, with sprink-
ling showers. To April 7, hard frost. To May 17, mild,
windy weather, without a drop of rain. To the end of May,
cold, with a few showers. To June 9, mild weather, with
frequent soft showers. To July 18, hot, dry weather, with
a few showery intervals. To July 22, heavy rain. To the
end of September, warm, with frequent showers. To the end
of October, frequent rain. To 18th of November, dry, mild
weather. (Hay-making finished November 9, and the wheat
harvest November 14.) To December 28, rain. To the end
of the year, hard frost.

1786. To the 7th January, frost and snow. To January
13, mild, with much rain. To the 21st January, deep snow.
To February 11, mild, with frequent rains. 21st February,
dry, with high winds. To 10th March, hard frost. To 13th
April, wet, with intervals of frost. To the end of April, dry,
mild weather. On the 1st and 2nd May, thick ice. To 10th
May, heavy rain. To June 14, fine, warm, dry weather.
From the 8th to the 11th July, heavy showers. T’o October
13, warm, with frequent showers. ‘To October 19, ice. To
October 24, mild, pleasant weather. To November 3, frost.
To December 16, rain, with a few detached days of frost.
To the end of the year, frost and snow.

1787. To January 24, dark, moist, mild weather. To
January 28, frost and snow. To February 16, mild, showery
weather. To February 28, dry, cool weather. To March 10,
stormy, with driving rain. To March 24, bright, frosty
weather. To the end of April, mild, with frequent rain. To
May 22, fine, bright weather. To the end of June, mostly
warm, with frequent showers (on June 7, ice as thick as a
crown piece). To the end of July, hot and sultry, with
copious rain. To the end of September, hot, dry weather,

SUMMARY OF THE WEATHER. 365

with occasional showers. To November 23, mild, with light
frosts and rain. To the end of November, hard frost. ‘Fo
December 21, still and mild, with rain. To the end of the
year, frost.

1788. To January 13, mild and wet. To January 18,
frost. To the end of the month, dry, windy weather. To
the end of February, frosty, with frequent showers. To
March 14, hard frost. To the end of March, dark, harsh
weather, with frequent showers. To April 4, windy, with
showers. To the end of May, bright, dry, warm weather,
with a few occasional showers. From June 28 to July 17,
heavy rains. To August 12, hot dry weather. To the
end of September, alternate showers and sunshine. To
November 22, dry, cool weather. To the end of the year,
hard frost.

1789. To January 13, hard frost. To the end of the
month, mild, with showers. To the end of February, fre-
quent rain, with snow showers, and heavy gales of wind. To
18th March, hard frost, with snow. To April 18, heavy rain,
with frost, and snow, and sleet. To the end of April, dark,
cold weather, with frequent rains. To June 9, warm spring
weather, with brisk winds, and frequent showers. From
June 4, to the end of July, warm, with much rain. To
August 29, hot, dry, sultry: weather. To September 11,
mild, with frequent showers. To the end of September, fine
autumnal weather, with occasional showers. To November
17, heavy rain, with violent gales of wind. To December 18,
mild, dry weather, with a few showers. To the end of the
year, rain and wind.

1790. To January 16, mild, foggy weather, with occa-
sional rains. To January 21, frost. To January 28, dark,
with driving rains. To February 14, mild, dry weather. To
February 22, hard frost. To April 5, bright, cold weather,
with a few showers. To April 15, dark and harsh, with a
deep snow. To April 21, cold, cloudy weather, with ice. To
June 6, mild, spring weather, with much rain. From July 3
to July 14, cool, with heavy rain. To the end of July, warm,
dry weather. To August 6, cold, with wind and rain. To
August 24, fine harvest weather. To September 5, strong
gales, with driving showers. To November 26, mild autumnal
weather, with frequent showers. To December 1, hard frost

366 SUMMARY OF THE WEATHER.

and snow. To the end of the year, rain and snow, and a few
days of frost.

1791. To the end of January, mild, with heavy rains. To
the end of February, windy, with much rain and snow. From
March to the end of June, mostly dry, especially June.
March and April, rather cold and frost. May and June, hot.
July, rainy. Fine harvest weather, and pretty dry, to the
end of September. Wet October, and cold towards the
eud. Very wet and stormy in November. Much frost in
December.

1792. Some hard frost in January, but mostly wet and
mild. February, some hard frost, and a little snow. March,
wet and cold. April, great storms on the 13th, then some
very warm weather. May and June, cold and dry. July,
wet and cold; indifferent harvest, rather late and wet.
September, windy and wet. October, showery and mild.
November, dry and fine. December, mild.

A

COMPARATIVE VIEW

OF THE

NATURALISTS CALENDAR,

AS KEPT

ATI SELBORNE, IN HAMPSHIRE, BY THE LATE REV. GILBERT WHITE, M.4.,

4ND AT CATSFIELD, NEAR BATILE, IN SUSSEX, BY WILLIAi1
MARKWICK, ESQ., F.L.S.,

FROM THE YEAR 1768, ''O0 THE YEAR 1793.

N.B.—The dates in the following Calendars, when more than one,
express the earliest and latest times in which the circumstance noted
was observed.

369

NATURALIST’S CALENDAR.

“oT Ae

“ST yoreyy ‘OT ‘uee | *
‘6 pdy “2T ‘uep [°°
“TT woaeyy “1% “ure | *
‘6 tady ‘Tuee | °°

*g tady “T ‘oep | *

‘Ol Aeyn T “uee . °

"p [dy °% uep | *
"63 Wady ‘JT Wore | °°
6 Pady ‘7 uee | *

*g Avy “Torey | °°

© ‘qoq 6g ‘wep

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91 “deg ‘e “wee

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*Y (umoszezeut ouydep) uoerezeyy

* ‘y (euayd stuuased syjeq) Asrep opqnog
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‘9 ‘JQ Ulede pus ‘Tg—¢ ‘uer | ° "! B[—] ‘uee : . * — sSars (ejnoaqna vrayds) ysvarqpay
‘MOIMWUVW “SLI AL

-sounsmaddn ysay ony ‘de pus

£ buyfong "| £ bursomopyf soyrudts yg “pasn suoneraaiqqe a1) JO

‘SUVANATVO SMOIMMUVA UNV SLIHM FO MHIA HALLVAVdWOO V

NATURALIST’S CALENDAR.

370

0G ‘AON Uses ysvy f [| ounE ‘9 “qa,7
“LL dy ‘1 -qaq

“6 Avy “LT “G90

“SL Av ‘OL dy

‘or Lem ‘eg Wore
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. . is

8 . .

“WOIMWUVA

“IIH

“pg GStpeara snyjueyes) dorp-moug .
“Y (aaziu snz0gaz[ay) exoqay[ay OVTEL |

371

NATURALIST’S CALENDAR.

é “13 pady
‘9% Wore ‘ET ‘UEP

“TLeune % [ady

‘OT Yoreyy

*g oun uses ysey f 7g [lady ‘¢ your
“6S yore “ZI “497

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"98 ‘q9q ‘12 ‘wer
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‘7G AON teas ysuy fey [dy ‘ZT “qed
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*HOIMMUVN “ALIA

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

372.

“LT oune “7% Tady

"8S "220 Uses ysuy f 9 Avy ‘ez “qaqz
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. . .

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i sys (snyjvs snuviseyd) uoy
: * $00 STO Poom TMOIG

*MOIMHUVH

“ALIA AL

“873

NATURALIST’S CALENDAR.

- 8G YOU
“1S Wore
pl qdag meas ysul Seg iady ‘9g your

‘6 Ae 6% POIs

6S AoW “1 Wore
‘OL Tady “% “wee

°6 Wore,

“62 Tady “p wavy
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‘OL pnany ‘Z youryy
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"g pady “2 “qd

03 Tady ‘6 yore
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7" tg yore
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$3 Tady ‘¢ yore
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“p avy

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* 63-8 Wary
7 + g yoavyy

9 tady % yore
Li iady “% prey
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BG WPI ‘8% “9d
FG WIEN “8B “Wd
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g wad y ‘2% “qo
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‘og (snesyozumopnesd snsstored) [Ipoyeq
: * — ayed saysnay} passtyy

. . .

*HOIMMUVIL

"L1H M

NATURALIST’S CALENDAR.

374

Sunk ‘p Tady sys “¢g—gy youeyy

rog fady seuo] = ‘eg tad 441 “Pa
'eZ 490 Uaes]

asel LZ ABI sys QT Avy ‘og yorvpy

82 Iudy ‘eg ‘qaq

°9B "OO Woes ysel “eg Av ‘ey ore

spunq “[ pady

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"aL Avy ‘% yore

“26 dew % wady
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£33 Seq ‘o] pady
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: @ * Y esoqing viewing
. ‘de (snyypooay vrayAs) warm-moryt M
(eulyeyeyosou vxope) yoopmoro Ppoom-ysn Fy
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< : : * sis (xBIO9 snAqod) UeAeYT
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s : : + de axjastqaerowoydy
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: : : ‘de Sunjoy vjomoskayy
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‘de (ot oytded) Aytoy3nq yooovag
* : * "Y (eutaes vjora) yajora s3oq.

“HOIMMUVIA

“ALIN A

375

NATURALIST’S CALENDAR.

*T Avy “oT dy

*g Ae “OT Worey
"6g ‘Sny uses ysey ‘Ff Ane “Gg plady
02 Avy ‘Zt [dy
“TT aaqowo
‘93 ‘ady ‘92 ‘a9
“6T Indy ‘62 yoreyy
FZ [dy “el yore
“g ‘d0q Maas ysvy] ‘g Avy ‘pT [dy
“18 WPtem “LZ “GAT
‘oT Avy ‘9 tady

‘6T ‘ydag uaes 4sey ‘0Z
key ‘pl ‘ady wees ‘9, Avyy ‘pp ady
“9 “AON Waas ysel ‘1Z—) Indy
‘83—Z1 Iady
*L Sew “9 “G9d
‘et Aone ‘OL deg
93 [ady ‘9 yoreyy
‘ZL ‘AON taas 4svl ‘gz Yoaeyy SF “qT
SZ "JOO Ueas ysuy ‘Ez [lady ‘g yorey
*g ‘ydag uses yse] ‘gt Avy ‘g [iady
‘og Tady ‘¢] yore
°g Av ‘33 Yoreyy
“paypoyey dunod ‘Qz youeyy

ro—% [dy

T dy
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* 08 Tad y 9g yoreyy
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v2 be 9 yoaeN,
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* SL dy ‘2g yar
* + 08-23 WAR
* SL iady ‘12 yorepy
* 93 Tady ‘12 yore
* rT dy 02 yore
"5 08 yore

“g (suSvaraur witeTTatay) [TPoyep pexonbayD
punoad aty Jo doujans or} UM sqom Saopidg

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sSurs (etutsny vpapfs) apesurgt[sIny

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uaas (snzenb10} supany) Jasnosunyz

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; (aasue sve) osaad Suno x

“yg (styeynarto snyjuedy) yyuedy ofqnog

‘de (voiqan opunsiy) wya8 A

“g (cunrpoyisoddo wnrmadsosay>) adeajixes uap[oH

: payoyey syoup Suno x
pxvoy (vpideoraye vrapts) dva-yourg

+ -du (wonsna opunaty) MoTTeag

‘Gg (vjooane, oaydep) Jaanvy odindg

: “yp (xoutur wourA) epPyULMtte gq

+ edia satrreq (xtpey etapay) Lay
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‘de (euvarnoazay Boltutoj) 4UU eS1OFT
s + -de (xiqeu raqnjoo) eysug

> ‘de (ejredit opunary) wyaeu-putg
“de (snipour snyAquiog) Ay-zzng.

“g (stqsnyed evyjyeo) pposiveur ysavyy

qs (woysowlop equinjos) suoadid-esnoyy

“MOIMMUVIT

‘a LIHM

NATURALIST’S CALENDAR.

376

"61 Avy ‘93 dy

sde T] oung 71 Avy

‘9g Avy “43 [dy

“LI—9T oune sys “¢Z—FT [dy

‘0g “ydag] "er Avy ‘T pady
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"83 Avy ‘9g ‘yore

“9 Avy ‘OT yore

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‘92 Wady ‘1% “G9

“or Aeqy ‘61 dy

‘oT dy ‘oz ‘wee

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“0g Tady ‘og yoreyy

°8f Tady ‘Fg your

*y Ae 1s yorepy

‘er Avy ‘Z tdy

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‘OT [ady °% youeyy
“AL fey “e yoarypy

21 Ae ‘ot dy
L Sew “et pady

I

Lady

6 Ae ‘Tt dy
g key “OL dy

‘du (sueajrojvo sdouva) Ay-Susuyng
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: [ (eoreaphs snSey) yosog
sdurs (etsueverd ‘epneye) YIvl-Ity,
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‘du (ramaecaie wraps) 4.18}S-poyy,

: * sumeds uoaspny
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sedid odtug
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c : * ‘B (sttea vinutad) dysmog

; $ : : : * de srqysari19} snne

*MOLAMUVIL

* 61-6 Indy
*F3—8 Indy
* 8g—8 Indy
Lisdy
so pray
ot Aeny °2Z Wady
* "93-1 Iudy
02—9 Indy
"8 gyudy
6I—§ Indy
* 8 pyuady
6G Avyy ‘g judy
* g—e tady
*FI—¢ Indy
"ot gyudy
* ¢ tady
¢ ady
g1—@ Indy
‘46-8 Indy
o Lady
"ODIH AL

877

NATURALIST’S CALENDAR.

‘9g Avy ‘TT Tady

“dv $% 0 ‘T “49g

et Aen “6g Gorey

“93 Avqy ‘61 pady
‘uss “oT “Bny “pT Avy
*g Avy 622 yoavyy

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[pamne og pdy
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sy Avy LE dy
og—at Tady

91 tady

SL iady
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€3—6 [FIT Indy

FI Iady

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sde (vaqna volwdof) que pay

se . .

‘de (woxauto erapfs) yeoryyorty AA

‘[ (eaqna xitep-snutd) eaaq-yoae'T
: (eut9a vqeap) ssvad MODI AL

“MOIMWUVAL

“ALDI M

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

378

. ‘poune 6z Tady
*g ysnony

‘18 Avy “6% pady
3s Sey ‘9s [dy
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"1g oune ‘Fg pady
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“oT Avy ‘23 Yorey
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"83 “deg ‘eT oune

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.

gi— et Aer
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g oun ‘og [dy
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3 tdy

* Fe tedy
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63—€6 Tad yy.

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E (apd Sone Sicetaty) BOOAL pI ‘Aaroqavesyg

+ -du 9eq e810]

“MOIMWUVI

379

NATURALIST’S CALENDAR.

g Avy

“al oune ‘gt Av
“g oung ‘9g tady
‘SZ ‘AON 1998 4SB] ‘P oung % judy
*p oune ‘Ft dy
‘eg ounp ‘Zp ABTA
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"TT eune “AT [dy
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A ae
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€ Avy
: 9o— 22 Avy
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7 3g Avy
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* 16-18 few
ss 1g key

6 ome ‘1g Avy
*g oune ‘9g Avy
gaune ‘6, Avy

6 oune ‘gt Avy

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TL oange ‘gt Avy

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“yg (stav supra shaydo) styoa0 ysau-spaigg

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lates (voyreut side) saog

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6T AVIA ‘UE Yoavyy a + pp ew | . * de (seuturepaes onided) dy-asuei9
er dew |: ++ ‘de (eyaepeyze onided) Xytoygng pearupy
*MOIMMUVN “ALIH AM,

NATURALIST’S CALENDAR.

380

‘g ‘AON Uoas ysv] ‘9 Aine ‘og yore
*T oune “T] judy
‘p oun ‘TZ pady

‘el fey ‘eZ youeyy

‘P3—01 AUK

“0% oun ‘ZT Avy
“gt Avy ‘2 yorepy
: “gT oun “oT Avy

4

*g Aine ‘¢ oune
“gy, oune “eg Avy
‘LZ Suy ‘og pady
*g oun ‘gp Avy
"oz Ae “ZT Wady
“TT oung *¢ Av
*y ounr “eg [dy

‘61 oune “ey Avy
“TT oun “9g Avy

‘2, oume 9 Av
*g aune “oT Avy
‘g ‘Suy % Sey
*g oune “eT [dy

oune
oun
oune
ounp
Te Avy
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og Ae

Iz aune “og Arey

eT oun ‘og Avy

0g oun ‘og Avy
“gg oung ‘og Avy
6z Av
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82 Av
82 Avy
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1g ken

ey, oune 7% Avy
g aung 64g Avy
9% AvP

*¢z oune ‘9g Avy
7 + gg Avy
9g key
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oo. . .

"MOIMMUVA

“SLIHA

381

NATURALIST’S CALENDAR.

"or Aine “gt oune
‘oT Aine ‘g oune
“63 App “gT oun

“ez oune ‘oT Avy
‘9 Ajng (9% Avy

‘91 ‘Sny ‘T oune

*¥g Aine 6G ounp
‘g ounp “oy [dy
‘gL une “og uady

‘9 ‘ydag “Zz Aine
*Z aung “{[ Avy
"13 Ae

6 oun ‘g Kv
“LT ounp ‘eg Avy
“pany ‘gy pady
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‘| ‘Sny ‘g oune

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: ¥ (snoyaeysny snunad) jaanvy pesnj.10g
* : “PY (exragttA suytA) our,
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J $ * yp (eaozide sXaydo) styo.10-s0g
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: z oung

ig * go0une

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91 Ang ‘[ oune

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“GLIHM

NATURALIST’S CALENDAR.

382

ard el a It fey
‘98 Ainge [dy
“IG—FI oune

"2 Amp ‘gy oun

e Aine ‘22 Av

"oo Aing ¢ or oume
61 any” g Avy
‘1g oun “pz, Avy

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0g Pune

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6

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gt ounge

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[ oune
[ oune
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8B Aine ‘gp oune

p (snadoame snwfuone) 9aa}-arputrdg
“H (stfeurogjo osvr0q) odvarog.
‘dv (suadao snuvont) apaeq-5e1¢
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‘ZL any ‘er fe 7 G aung | - : : : —- (eqye viuo1mq) Luda,

‘er Ang “y & . SS otter anaes : "B Cuittug jo

eT AML [FAV Conne HUBUY ouETIS nes uaYyoq senna uordurvs rappel
"1g eune ‘cy Avy a 6 oune att (esuaare wnalyes umsid) vad platy
"1g oung ‘gt Avy g oung § c +g (stunuuos snarey) Au0f1q youg

‘MOIMHUVI “TLAAL

383

NATURALIST’S CALENDAR.

"92 Aine ‘6 Ae
‘eT Aqne ‘gy oune
‘0g Ainge ‘21 Ae
"et Amp 2% ACW

‘OT ‘Sny ‘91 pady
“pl ‘any ‘4 oune

*¢ 4tng ‘2 ounce
"eZ—L oune

‘eT Alne ‘og Wady
“LT Aime “Or oune

‘tes Aen

‘or Ane ‘22 Le

"te Aine ‘ez Avy
"1Z—¢ oun

IT ‘3deg uses ‘gz Aine
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*g adag ‘g Avy

“eT oung ‘eT Avy

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"1Z oun “gz Avy

"9G Aine ‘p oune

¥ Amp 22 oune
* gg ounge

R + yg oune
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0g “‘Sny ‘9g ounp
‘ ¢z oune

‘g ‘Suny ‘Fz oune
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‘ -pz oune

: * 7g oune
oF TS ounpe

"PS oun

‘g ‘Bny ‘ez oune

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od es oune
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© ae oune
p Aine ‘Zz oune
2 Ang Bz ounp
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= ? 1% oun
ba 1Z oun
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% “Y (etpoprpunjoa vayem) Morpeur jaws
ae : * og (sirsoapfs BAyeUl) MO]]BUE WOTUTUOZ
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pr + YB (SIpeUIOIyo vUBLA[VA) TePTa/BA PIM yvarH
‘g (enpuadry veords) ytomdoag
“Y (siaysnped snnpavo) ofsiqyy ysaepr
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*y (goumSuvs snur0o) pooasoq
‘g (suejnu snnpaeo) opsIt} YSN

*MOIMMUVA

MOND: Ci

NATURALIST’S CALENDAR,

384

‘ey Aine ‘gy oune

‘tg une “p Aepy
“rT Ame ‘6 oune
‘g ‘Sny ‘Gz oun

"6 Alne ‘og Avqy
‘g “Eny “zz oune

*L dag ‘p Aine
‘TS Aine ‘4g oun
"6 oun “6g Avy

"61 Aine “9 oune
‘+o Ajnp “F oune
“+3 Amp Sg] ounce
“at Aine “2g oune
"ue Aine ‘Zt oune
83—8 Ane

Ry ve t4ime
“LT Ane “og oune
" + og emme
og oun
0g oun
"6G ounpe
6g oune
‘6g oun
6 oun
‘eg Aine ‘gz oune
* y‘Sny ‘6g oune
og Aime “gz oune
* 7 Ane ‘6z oune
02 4ine ‘Gz oune
: * gz oune
8z une
8g oune
et Amp “gz oun
Te Aine ‘gz eune
18 Aine ‘gz oune
63 Alp “gg oun

°

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{ “UDATR SNNPAVO Nos SISUBATE e[Nyv.L.1as) JIOM-MBS W109

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i " ° ‘B ormeunsd s{youg
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“GT oune ‘eT Avqy e : Zgeunp |}: ° 7 * + Gos snmefosofy) onequo py
"NOTA WUYH “TLTAN

385

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

‘SI ‘ydeg “gt ounp
‘1g Aime

“9 oun ‘TT ‘uee
‘ot Sine “oz dy
“93 Ajag ‘9g Ae

‘LT “Say ‘pz oune
"1d Aine ‘6g oune
*y ‘any ‘og ounce
“FL PO “GT Av

“61 Ane

‘9 Ame ‘1g pady
‘eg ‘any ‘[z oune
‘ey Ame ‘ge ounp
‘sr Aine “g oune

"#3 Aine ‘gy oung

‘eg Aine *zg oune
"¢3 Ane ‘FT Av
‘OI ‘any ‘oz oune

‘ot Ane “TT dy

1 Ame
1 Ayoe
2 Ane

* 6—9 Aja

9 Aine
“9 Aiur
9 4[np
9 Aine

* SI—g Aue

a

¢ Aine
¢ Aine

"to—F Aine

7 Aine
¢ Aine
¢ Ainge
¢ Aine
@ Aine
& Aine
& Ane
& Aine
z Aine

T 4qne

or ‘ ‘B (eadia vyo]][eq) punoyssoy youg
“B (qterg Jo vayUIMefeo snuT{y} Nos esstfoun) yuTUNE/ED
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. : * "B (sieuroyyo enpueyeo) sppodiaepy

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“MOIM SUVA

POSAGCT NY

cc

NATURALIST’S CaLENDAR.

386

*g ‘Sny ‘6 oune
‘ez oun °g Av
‘g ‘any ‘12 oune

‘ol ‘Sny “FT oune
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03 Ame “F oune
‘to Aine “1g oune

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“OTM MUV

“OLTASM

387

NATURALIST’S CALENDAR.

‘61 Ame “g oune
"1 Suny “6 Aine

“LT ‘Sny ‘oz Ane
"6 Aine “9g Ae
PL any er Aine

g ‘any ‘Fy Aja
“16 tng ‘0g eune

"eI ‘Sny ‘eT oun

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91 ‘any ‘g Aine

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61 Aine
OL ‘Sny “et Aine
61 Aine
‘61 Aqnp
* + gt Aine
‘gt Aine
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‘Sny ‘ZT Aine
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pt Ane
12 ‘Sny “27 Aine
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PL ehy “2T Aine
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* 91 Ame
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nea

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“ALI M

cc2

NATURALIST’S CALENDAR.

388

‘oe Aque “og oune
“#3 Aqne ‘LT oune

¢ ‘Sny
"6g “Suny ‘ZT Ane
"g ‘any ‘91 Aine

‘pL “sny ‘et Aine
‘Te Aine *y Aeqy

‘Te Ainp “Z oun
"6g Aine “Tg oune

‘Sr Ane 23 Ae

oT ‘sny
‘OT ‘Sny ‘oT oune
"eg Ane ‘oT oune
"9g ‘sny ‘TT Aine

‘+ 9g Aine
+ 9g Aine
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; 63—Lz Ane
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93 Ayne

* g ‘Bny ‘og Aine
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‘+ gg Aine
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‘ * 3g Ane
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ae &% Ajne
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“LL ydag ‘or Aine . * 0g Ane * “4 (wnaoyipou unis) dousred aeyem Sutdoerg
"HOLM HUY SLT |

389

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

*g “ydog ‘g ‘Say

: ° Ey (eyareue vueyued) 410a-119,7

*p Buy ‘ZT eune : g ‘any | ° : * y $ “B (eddey tuntoae) yoopang:

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‘Sconyil: ° ‘de “eyvoruem sidy

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‘ES oun “og Avy : * 62 4ine | * ‘yg Ccansnzrmny wmorsedAy) y.t0m-s WyOL 4g SaTTLeay,
*MOTA UV *TLITAL

NATURALIST’S CALENDAR.

390

st Aine ‘1g pady
‘9% Ang ‘2g Avy
8 ‘AON ‘GZ “Sny
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€% ‘Sny ‘zz oune
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‘ydag ‘ZI ‘sny
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"OLA

391

NATUBALIST’S CALENDAR.

yore ‘OT ‘49d S8ats ‘gT ‘29q “1 390
rel pady uses ysey ‘TZ ] “OT ‘AON

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NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

392

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“HOTA MUVIC ‘TLIHA,

SUPPLEMENTARY NOTES

TO

WHITE'S NATURAL HISTORY OF SELBORNE,

BY

SIR W. JARDINE, Bart.
&e. &e, &e,

SUPPLEMENTARY NOTES,

By Srr Wm. Jarpine, Bart.
ge

Tae value of “ White's Natural History of Selborne” will be best
estimated by the number of editions it has passed through, by
the extent of the annotations written upon it (many of them by
persons of considerable eminence in science), and by the demand
which still continues for the work.

In 1829, when Mr. Constable had proceeded so far with his
“ Miscellany,” I was requested to read over and add some notes
explanatory of various passages in “Selborne,” which he then
proposed to form one of the volumes of his collection. To this I
agreed, and that edition is the only one with which I have had
any connection whatever. At the disarrangement of Mr.
Constable’s affairs, the “ Miscellany ” fell into other hands; and
editions, in 1832 and 1836, were re-published under my name,
with woodcuts and illustrations, of which I knew nothing.
Subsequently, various other editions have been published, some
of them copying my notes, others annotating upon them, while
one or two contained much original information, and were
illustrated by beautiful woodcuts. Mr. Bohn having resolved
to re-publish the work, under the charge of Mr. Jesse, in his
Standard Library, requested me to make any additions I might
think necessary to what I had written in 1829. The request
was made too late for these to be inserted in the body of the
work ; but, as many of the notes of 1829 were not in accord-
ance with our knowledge and the general state of Natural History
in 1850, I considered the opportunity for correction to be favour-
able, and have, accordingly, made a few observations and altera-
tions, which are now given in the form of an Appendix,—not
that in these I consider the subject exhausted, but that ina
work which is so likely to come extensively into the hands of
persons of almost every class and age, it is of the utmost im-
portance that all error should be avoided. ee

JARDINE Hatt,
14th Nov., 1850.

3896 SUPPLEMENTARY NOTES, BY SIR WM. JARDINE.

Tue BeEcu-tree.—Letter I., page 13, note.

The loveliness of the beech is a matter of opinion ; but, much as
we admire the tree, and liberally plant it, we would adhere, so far as that
epithet is concerned, to what we have before written. The beech is a
tree selected by all for its expanse and shade (patula fagus). We quoted
Gilpin in favour of the ash; of the beech he says—“ On the whole,
however, the massy, full-grown, luxuriant beech is rather a displeasing
tree ;” and Loudon, though aware of its graceful hanging branches,
writes of its « lumpish head.” Nevertheless, we are not insensible to
what belongs to it, and agree with Sir ‘I. D. Lauder in the opinion that
“a noble beech is a magnificent object, ” and with Mr. Selby that it
“ combines magnificence with beauty.”

GeoLocy or SELBorNE.—Letter I., page 16, note *.

The first of the various editions of “ Selborne” which took notice of
the geology of the district, was that by E. T. Bennet, Esq., in 1836, who,
we believe, examined the locality for the purpose. Mr. Jenyns after-
wards used an extract of the note in question for his edition in 1843 3
and as it is essential to the proper understanding of the text, and
the note we appended in 1829, Mr. Bennet will, we trust, not find
fault with our now extending the information he has so well given :—
“The parish of Selborne is situate on the lower part of the chalk
formation, and embraces within it the upper members of the weald.
In crossing it from east to west, each strata is visited in the order of
super-position. They are four in number; comprising the Chalk, the
Upper Green Sand, the Gualt, and the Lower Green Sand.” It is upon the
chalk, so favourable to the growth of beech woods, that the “ Hanger” is
placed; but the “ Freestone,” upon which the “ Shakey” oak wood grows, is
a part of the green sand, which is here in the form of rock, which “ usually
rises slowly in w lengthened and widely-spread flat until it terminates
suddenly by an abrupt or cliff-like fall, constituting a terrace or escarp-
ment.” This is quite different from the rock alluded to in the former
note, which usually here and in many parts of Scotland has the name of
Freestone also applied to it. It is the presence of iron which forms the
colouring matter of the Red Sandstone or Freestone, and of the Red Till,
that is obnoxious to the larch ; and the decay has been observed, also,
though not at so early an age, in trees planted on the older or Silurian
rocks, where iron, or the traces of it, was present.

Tur Exm-tree.—Letter II., pages 16, 17, notes + and *.

The elms commonly prevalent in Great Britain are now considered
as only two; the one alluded to in the text and note, U. montana
(Bauhinus), and U. campestris (Linnzeus), the one most commonly met
with in Scotland, and producing wood of considerable value ; the other,
frequent everywhere in the south of England, forming the common
hedge-row timber and brushwood, often a part of the fence itself, and
also appearing as the often magnificent and picturesque trees of our

SUPPLEMENTARY NOTLS, BY SIR WM. JARDINE. 397

avenues and public parks. The other elms, under various names, may
generally be traced as varieties to the stock of one or other of these—
VU. suberosa of authors being one of the more distinct, and, though given
& separate place by Mr. Selby, is given so with doubt. The largest
recorded Wych elm trees, are, in England, that in Sir Walter Bagot’s
Park in Staffordshire, mentioned in previous note ; in Scotland, the
“ Trysting-tree,” in Teviotdale, Roxburghshire, measured in the begin-
ning of the century, at four feet from the ground, thirty feet in cireum-
ference ; and in Ireland, a tree at Bawn, about 120 years of age, was
9 feet 8 inches in diameter. :

Fossin Suretrs.—Letter III., page 20.

By some oversight in the printing of the edition in “ Constable’s
Miscellany,” the last sentence in the first paragraph of this letter has been
omitted, and the same occurs in Mr. Jenyn’s edition, and in almost every
other, no doubt because there was no engraving contiguous. The sentence
is—“The curious foldings of the suture, the one into the other, the
alternate flutings or grooves, and the curved form of my specimen being
much easier expressed by the pencil than by words, I have caused it to
be drawn and engraved.” This is of little import, but it is as well to
have the edition complete. In the large original quarto copy of 1789,
a whole plate is devoted to this fossil. In the various late editions, it
has been annotated upon, and first, again, by Mr. Bennet, who states
that it is the Ostrea carinata (Lamark), a fossil limited and apparently
peculiar to the upper green sand (not the chalk), the stratum on whicli
the village of Selborne is built. (See note, Bennet’s Edit., page 12.)

Mereorotocy.—Letter V., page 24.

In Mr. Bennet’s edition, a continuation of the Meteorological Register is
added for six years—(the fourth edition, 1789, givesit only up to January,
1787)—the two last years of which (1792 and 1793) the amount of rain
was very large, far exceeding any of the former quantities ; in the first it
amounted to 44:93 inches, and in the second to no less than 48°56,
exceeding all the previous years, except 1782-3, when it was 50-25
inches. ‘The intelligent gentleman referred to in the note to the above
page, was Thomas Barker, of an ancient and respectable family in the
county of Rutland, and brother-in-law to our author.

Boe Timper.—Letter VI., page 27, note *.

From Mr. Bennet’s note upon the timber of the Selborne bogs, it would
appear that in 1835 the supply was not exhausted, several trees having
been at that time dug up. In the south of Scotland the oak is the most
abundant tree found in the bogs, is very general, in some places ex-
tremely abundant, and the brushwood of our present copses frequently
accompany it. In the north of Scotland, again, pine-wood is commonly
met with and used as we before mentioned, as well for making lights to
“burn the water,” or to spear salmon by torchlight, for which it answers
admirably.

398 SUPPLEMENTARY NOTES, BY SIR WM. JARDINE.

Tur Carercaiiziz.—Letter VI., page 27, note t.

Since the date of the above referred-to note, the capercailzie, or wood-
grouse, has been re-introduced into the Highlands of Scotland, by the
exertions of the Earl of Fife, and more lately by Lord Breadalbane. A
few years since, they had increased considerably in the woods around
Taymouth, and had even strayed and bred in some adjoining properties.

Several of the American partridges might be introduced, as well as the
little Virginian ortyx mentioned. They are a much more numerous
group than was supposed at the date of the note, no less than thirty-five
species being now described and figured in the beautiful monograph just
completed by Mr. Gould. Several are from northern climates, and
would in all probability succeed with us.

DEER-sTEALING.—Letter VII., page 29, note.

The following notice, bearing on this subject, appeared in a late
number of the “ Times” newspaper :—

“ OFFICIAL ANNOUNCEMENTS.—The Solicitors of the ‘ Woods and
Forests’ have received instructions to give the necessary Parliamentary
notices preparatory to the introduction of a bill to extinguish the right
of the Crown to stock the New Forest in Hampshire with deer and
other wild beasts of the forest, and to empower Her Majesty to inclose
the several portions of the said forest.”

Marsh Puants.—Letter VIII., page 32.

Mr. Bennet tells us that Bin’s-pond is now “ drained, and cattle graze
upon its bed.” The plants, therefore, alluded to, and mentioned more
particularly in Letter LX XXIV. of present edition, or XLI. part 2, of
other editions, will not now be found. Increase of population, cultiva-
tion, modern improvements, Railways, Commons’ Inclosure Acts, Drain-
age Acts, &c. &c., have made sad changes in the localities—extirpation
and introduction of both animal and vegetable life. White’s letters are,
therefore, very valuable records of what did exist; and the changes
which have taken place can now only be marked by one resident on the
spot ; but however interesting Mr. Bennet’s remarks are on these points,
they can only be partial from the limited .time he had to spare in the
locality, while preparing his edition for the press. In our own vicinity
we have seen these changes most marked, and surely progressing. The
habitat of many rare muir or marsh plants exists only in recollection or
in manuscript. Many birds frequenting unenclosed sub-alpine lands,
have gone to seek haunts less intruded on—(are White’s stone-curlews
as abundant as formerly ?)—while from the increase of plantations,
a few which did not visit us thirty years since, are now frequent.
Cultivation is an enemy to various wild birds not included in the list of
game. In Dumfriesshire, associations have been formed for the destruc-
tion of rooks, and committees appointed to take charge of districts
There is another in Forfarshire, and fourteen thousand young crows

SUPPLEMENTARY NOTES, BY SIR WM. JARDINE. 399

were destroyed within the week in the plantations of Inglismaldie. In
East Lothian, an association by the local agricultural society was formed
last year for the destruction of wood-pigeons ; funds were subscribed,
and premiums offered for the largest number killed. At Dunglass, the
first premium was obtained, for the destruction of 1154 birds and 786
eggs ; 916 and 804 birds were killed in other two localities ; and, alto-
gether, 8,000 head were computed as destroyed, counting two eggs as equal
to one pigeon.

A curious communication relating to the above subject was inserted in
the Lancet, by Dr. Henry William Fuller, of St. George’s Hospital. In
certain parts eof Hampshire, partridges were found dead in the fields,
sitting with their heads erect, and eyes open. Inquiry established that
in the district, farmers were in the habit of steeping their wheat ina
strong solution of arsenic; Dr. Fuller found it, by analysis, in the viscera
of the birds, and traced it to the seed-corn in their crops.

Twelve tons of game left Kirkcudbright in one day ; and to the value
of four hundred pounds weekly from Kirkcudbright and Wigton.

Tue Woop-wren.—Letter X., page 38.

The “little yellow-bird,” so far as we can judge from the habits
described, must be the Sylvia sibilatrix, wood-wren of modern British
ornithologists. The Stoparola of Ray is the Muscicapa grisola, or spotted
fiy-catcher. The habits of feeding are exactly described. (See, further,
its habits, Letter XL.) White is also quite right in supposing there
are more than one “ Motacilla trochilus.” The true Motacilla trochilus
of Linnzus, however, is a continental species, and has not yet been
found to visit our islands.

Tue Bracx-cap.—tLetter X., page 39.

The black-cap (Curruca atracapilla) is « regular migratory species
here, or bird of passage.

Mr. Bennet has copied a note from Mr. Rennie, in his edition, in
which he states :—“ Dr. Heineken informs us that it (the black-cap) is
stationary in Madeira, consequently Sir W. Jardine is wrong in thinking
our birds retire thither.” We have no doubt whatever that Dr. Heineken
is right in “black-caps being stationary in Madeira,” but it does not
follow from that, that some do not migrate there also. The song thrush
is stationary in Great Britain, but hundreds migrate to and from every
year, so do the gold-crests, also snipes and many other species. “ Where
it is probable they partly retire,” are the words of the original note,
page 112 of present edition.

Tur Warter-rat.—Letter X., page 39.

Mr, Jenyns, in his edition, has given the best explanation of this
passage regarding the Mus amphibius, and considered that it refers to
the common water rat Arvicola amphibia, and that Linnzeus was in error
when he wrote “Pedibus palmatis.” There is only one species of water

400 SUPPLEMENTARY NOTES, BY SIR WM. JARDINE.

rat hitherto known in Great Britain; the black-coloured individuals,
A. ater macgilliwray, found in the north, and which we once captured in
Sutherlandshire, being considered as only » variety. It is scarcely
possible to decide now what other field mouse may have been referred
to in this chapter, and it will be for Mr. Bell, the present proprietor and
preserver of Mr. White’s retreat, to discover which of the British
species are most abundant in his vicinity. For an excellent paper on
the distinctions of some of our small mammalia, see Rev. L. Jenyns in
« Annals of Natural History,” vol. vii. page 261.

Tur Fautcon.—Letter X., page 40.

Mr. Bennet states that the “Falco” proved to be the F. peregrinus,
or peregrine falcon, The authority is W. Y. The yellow iris does not,
however, agree with this, if in its long kept state White’s report could
be depended upon.

GrossHaAWK, CrossBILL, &c.—Letter XI., page 41, notes * +.

There is little to add to this note, except that specimens of the bird
continue to arrive at intervals, and from ornithology being more attended
to, they appear to be more frequently discovered ; the same localities
repeatedly afford specimens, and another was killed in 1849, on the
Northumberland coast, not far from Bamborough, in Budle Bay. Mr.
Thompson has given a table of its recorded appearance in Ireland, in
the first volume of his locally interesting “Birds of Ireland.” It has
occurred thirty-six times between 1819 and 1847.

The “ Grossbeaks” referred to (same page) continue also to occur
occasionally, and have been discovered by the late Mr. Doubleday to
breed regularly in Epping Forest, from whence he kindly communicated
to us both the nest and eggs. He considers their extreme shyness has
hitherto kept us in ignorance of their habits, and states that their
principal food was the seed of the hornbeam (Corpinus betulus). (See
iurther—* Mag. of Zool. and Bot.” vol. i. page 448.)

The Crossbill (Loxia curvirostra) is far from uncommon, but is very
uncertain in its visitations ; it is a bird which apparently breeds very
early in the season. In our own vicinity, and in Roxburghshire, for
several years previous to 1839, they were regularly seen, but not one has
appeared since. In one season they remained from November to the
July following, but no traces of nidification could be discovered. An
excellent account of the structure and anatomy of the bill, and its
aecessaries, is given by Mr. Yarrell in the “ Zoological Journal,” Vol. IV.
(See note in present Edition, page 124.)

Fisu.—Letter XL, page 42 and notes.

The “Miller’s Thumb,”. in the northern parts of our island, is not
generally distributed. We do not know its exact range, but in the
northern counties of England it is by no means general.

The broad-nosed eel (A. latirvstrzs) is the grig or glut eel of Pennant.

SUPPLEMENTARY NOTES, BY SIR WM. JARDINE. 401

Yarrell, Br. Fishes, where three British species are enumerated. Mr.
Bell could easily ascertain the species of sticklebacks which are found
around Selborne. There is a good paper by Dr. Parnell on the stickle-
backs, with etchings of the costal plates, in Trans. Roy. Soc, Edinburgh.

Bats.—Letter XI., page 43.

Mr. Bell, in his “British Animals,’ describes seventeen species of
bats as inhabitants of this country. It is only of late that the distinctions
between nearly allied species have been pointed out, and several may be
easily, and are constantly confounded. Mr. Bell has again to tell us
which prevail at Selborne.

Pallas, in his travels, mentions a curious superstition regarding bats
found in the grottos or natural caves in the neighbourhood of Pertova.
In these caves they are in immense abundance, and are found flying and
enjoying their gloomy solitudes at all hours. It is the opinion of the
surrounding natives, who are very superstitious, that one of these bats
dried, and carried suspended about the person as an amulet, will ensure
good fortune and. prosperity ; and that boiling water, in which one of
them has been dipped, when given as a drink, will prove an effectual
remedy for intermittent fevers or rachitis in children.

Migratory Birps.—Letter XIII., page 51, text and note *.

The great proportion of our migratory birds appear at the seasons of
migration to separate into flocks, composed almost entirely of one sex.
Thus we know that the males of many of the summer birds of passage
arrive before the females; and it has been thought, by some of our
ornithologists, that we receive an addition to the numbers of the chaffinch
in the end of autumn. About this period they begin to assemble in
flocks, and it has been also thought that these flocks were, in many
instances, composed of females alone. This is, perhaps, the case to a
considerable extent; but from many young males not having attained
their full plumage it has been over-rated. In the South of Scotland, at
least, the flocks are not of that exclusive sexual character ; we have
noticed that two-thirds at least were females, while not a half of the
remaining third were males in full or nearly perfect plumage. In Ireland,
Mr. Thompson states that the females assemble in very large flocks.
These, from never being but with flocks of male birds, he is disposed to
believe have migrated to this island from more northern latitudes,

Tue Buntine.—Letter XIII., page 51, note +.

The range of the common bunting extends generally, but locally,
northward to Sutherlandshire and the Hebrides.

Waertaits.—Letter XIII., page 52.

Our original note to the wagtails has been omitted; it is—* Motacilla
DD

402 SUPPLEMENTARY NOTES, BY SIR WM. JARDINE.

flava, yellow wagtail, is a summer bird of passage, arriving about the
end of May, and leaving us about the end of August or middle of
September.”—W. J. The yellow wagtails alluded to by White would
be the M. boarula, which has a black throat in summer ; many pairs
breed océasionally in suitable localities in Scotland and North of England,
but afew only remain over winter, visiting the farm-yards or streams
near a dwelling. Locality, however, is the principal breeding requisite,
and were the southern counties always suitable we should find it there.
Mr. Gould found it breeding last year in Buckinghamshire, near the
Chenies, in a beautiful valley between chalk hills, and ascertained that it
was not uncommon, while the Budytes flava, or yellow wagtail, did not
occur. Of the pied, or Yarrell’s wagtail, the habits in an alpine country
are very similar to those of the grey species, but where the country
becomes more densely peopled the manners are accommodated to cireum-
stances, and the nest, though generally placed in the vicinity of water, is
often built in the midst of a manufactory, and without apparent inter-
ruption from the noise and constant moving about of the workmen.

Tue Wueatear.—Letter XIII., page 52.

The Wheatear extends from the Land’s-Eyd to Cape Wrath and the
Hebrides, but in many districts it is gradually giving way to enclosures
and plantations. It extends far nortiward, and is sometimes driven a
long way out of its courses. One of these little birds was observed fiying
round the ship in Felix Harbour, on the 2nd of May, 1830, but was
found dead the next morning, having arrived before the ground was
sufficiently uncovered to enable it to procure its food—(Ross, Append.
to Second Voyage.) It has been once or twice killed in the island of
Bermuda, by Lieut. Wedderburn,’ of the 42d Regiment, « locality far
out of its track.

A most interesting Fauna might be written of the visitors to ships at sea,
not only in the European seas, but even in the passages between Great
Britain and Ireland, and from London or the south to the north of Scot-
land. If the observations were made in the spring and fall, with
proper attention, some interesting migratory information would. follow.
The wheatear is a very common visitant at these seasons, sometimes
remaining twenty-four hours on board.

Resprratory Oreans.—Letter XIV., page 55, text and note.

From the accounts of all, including Professor Owen, the puncta
lacrymalia do not seem at all connected with the respiratory functions ;
and in a work like the present, which is likely to obtain a wide circu-
lation, the opinion should not be allowed to go abroad as a fact.
There is no connexion between the organs of respiration and these slits,
and they are evidently the orifices of glands intended for some purpose
or economy which apparently has not yet been resolved. Both Mr.
Bennet and Professor Owen incline to the opinion that they are of
sexual use and development.

SUPPLEMENTARY NOTES, BY SIR WM. JARDINE. 4038

THE Roox.—Letter XV., page 60.

The common rook, (corvus frugilegus,) seems to be more subject to
a white variation than its other British congeners. Species entirely
white are not often seen, but individuals, with parts of the wings and
tail pure white, occur in almost every rookery. A pair of ragpies
entirely of a cream colour were hatched at a farm-steading in Eskdale,
Dumfriesshire, and being much thought of by the tenant, were strictly
preserved, and continued near the spot for many years,

Stone Curtew.—Letter XVI., page 61.

Mr. White’s remarks, passim, in his Correspondence in regard to this
species are very interesting, and it was evidently a favourite with him.
Has it been driven from its haunts, or does it still frequent the locality ?
It is by this group that we trace the alliance of the bustards. Mr.
Yarrell does not trace it beyond Yorkshire. We have no record of its
being killed in Scotland. Mr. Thompson notes it as a rare visitant to
Ireland. It ranges to the plains between the Black and Caspian Seas,
Asia Minor and Madeira.

Mr. Herbert, in one of his notes inserted in Bennet’s edition, refers
to a curious circumstance, that in his observations the bird is never
found to breed except on “the chalk ;” this will, however, require
confirmation.

Nutuarcu.—Letter XVI., page 65, note.

In this note I stated that our common species is the only one inhabiting
Europe. In the latest European ornithology, by M. Degland, Sitta
uralensis is given as an occasional visitant: another, Sitta syriaca, more
frequently orcurs, and is common also in Greece and Syria. According
to the authority quoted, it is also found in Dalmatia, the Levant, and
Syria, and I have lately received a specimen from my son, of H.M.S.
Caledonia, shot when the fleet was in the vicinity of Athens. The species
of this group from Alpine India amount to five or six, and are remark-
able in the alliance of form and colour to those of Europe.

Toaps—Letter XVIT., page 67, text and note +.

To this note we would only add, that toads deposit their spawn, or ova,
in long strings, instead of in a mass as the common frog does ; and the
beautiful spotted chains that are often seen in pools in spring, as if
looped over each other, is their ova newly deposited. The “ venom of
toads” has been discarded as a fable; still, the excretion from the
skin possesses some properties, perhaps fitted for protection. We
possessed a large Labrador dog, very fond of carrying anything, dead or
alive, which took a fancy to seek out toads from among the strawberry
beds. When taken in his mouth, the secretion of saliva was imme-
diately increased, and his jaws became covered with foam ; he evidently
felt pain and annoyance, at the same time would not discontinue his
practice of carrying them. Mr. Herbert, in a note to Bennet’s edition,
page 323, says :—*1f a hungry pike seizes one, (a toad,) he disgorges

pp2

404 SUPPLEMENTARY NOTES, BY SIR WM. JARDINE.

it again in disgust, though he eats a frog greedily.” What is the
cause of disgust ?—the same acrid secretion. We have kept several
toads in the stove upon the tan pits, to catch insects. They have become
quite tame, and will come to watch at the edge of a flower pot, until
it is lifted, darting instantaneously with the tongue upon anything
exhibiting motion that is under it.

Tue Sanpprrer.—Letter XX., page 77, text and notes.

We stated in our “ British Birds ”—“ Although this species extends
to the northernmost parts of the main Jand of Scotland, it does not
appear to visit the islands.” We, however, find it mentioned in Mr.
Heddle’s Birds of Orkneys, as visiting Hoy and Sanday ; Iceland, Green-
land and Faroe Islands are given by Mr. Yarrell, and southward, India
and its islands, Japan, Southern Africa ; in America it is represented by
T. macularius, or spotted sandpiper, so similar in its young plumage, that
the geographical distribution has on this account been confounded.

Eacte Owi.—Letier XXVIII, page 103, tect and note.

Montague stated that the eagle owl had been killed in Yorkshire,
Sussex and Kent. Mr. Selby records a specimen killed on the muirs in
the county of Durham. In Ireland, a single record is given by Mr.
Thompson, on authority of Mr. Stuart, that a pair bred on Tory Island,
on the coast of Donegal.

Parasitic Hatcaine or Ecos.—Letter XXX., page 107, text and note,
and XXXIII., page 114, text and note.

There is no economical habit more remarkable in ornithology, than
that of the parasitic hatching of eggs, which first was thought to be
confined to the common cuckoo of Europe; but more extensive -re-
searches discovered that it was common to various genera of the
euckoos, and that members of a few other groups also pursued the
same instinct. Various causes have been assigned for this anomalous
habit, but without sufficient reason ; and researches and comparisons
in the structure of the parasitic species are still wanting, and would,
without doubt, repay the inquirer. A large black species of Indian
cuckoo, Ludynamys orientalis, invariably deposits its eggs in the nests
of crows; and it is suspected that, in this instance, the cuckoo some-
times destroys the eggs of the crow, its eggs being frequently found
alone. The young crows are also expelled. It is a very remarkable
instance of design in the case of this bird, that, except in size, (the
cuckoo’s egg being slightly smaller,) the colour and markings are similar
to those of the crow. (See Contributions to Ornithology for 1850,
page 71.)

Hepcenocs.—Letter XXXI., page 109.

In our previous note we mentioned the eating of eggs by hedgehogs.
There is no doubt of the fact, and that therefore they are obnoxious to
gamekeepers. They are also so from another cause; they emit a
very strong scent, and on the grassy muirs, those most favourable for

SUPPLEMENTARY NOTES, BY SIR WM. JARDINE. 405

black game, pointers will set them, if in the way, and stand very
steadily. We have frequently witnessed disappointment from this
cause, The ordinary and general food is insectivorous or moluscous ; when
observed in the evening, they are rooting through the herbage like little
Pigs, every now and then picking out something which is not vege-
table ; and although animal food, such as dead animals, eggs, and the
young of various animals and birds, may be seized and fed upon when
met with, it is not their ordinary, or sought for food. ‘There is a curious
note in the Zoological Journal, supplied by Professor Buckland, on the
food of Hedgehogs, who, suspecting that hedgehogs eat snakes, tried the
experiment, which proved his suspicion to be correct. He had been
experimenting upon different kinds of food, and concludes, “ Here we
have evidence’ that the hedgehog feeds on roots, fruits, insects, and
snakes ; in fact, that it is an omnivorous animal.”

Sorr-BILLED Brrps.—Letter XXXVI., page 120, note.

The observation in this note is quite correct; there are many
members of the family muscicapide in America, thougli none of the Old-
World form of fly-catchers ; and the Old-World form of Sylvia, or warblers,
of White, is taken up by the Sylvicolince of the American forests, In
America, again, we have no true motacilla ; but in Guinea, and West
Africa, we have both a motacilla and numerous species of drymoica, &c.
In this latter country, nevertheless, the ploceine, or weaver forms, are
very abundant, and being mostly of somewhat gay colours, would, as”
Mr. White observes, form the bulk of the collection.

Tae Swattow.—Letter XXXIX., page 128.

The original letter concludes:—“Iam pleased to see that your
(Pennant’s) description of the moose corresponds so well with mine.”
The swallow was #. rupestris, 4 species found, according to Degland,
besides France and Switzerland, also in Sicily, Sardinia, North of Africa,
and Eastern Asia.

Tur Fry.—Letter XLIII., page 140, note.

There is no doubt that both the species might come under White’s
observation, though we have, in our former note, stated that it
“probably” was H. nemorum. These small coleopterous insects are
widely distributed, and common almost every year ; but it is chiefly
when the young plant is weak from want of proper manure, or great
drought, that it is very injurious. This insect has got the name of “ the
fly,” and is the one commonly known by that appellation. But by far
the most destructive insect is the larva of a tenthredinous, or saw-fly,
allied to the “ gooseberry caterpillar,” which appears at intervals, without
apparent cause, disappearing as unexplainably, and sweeping whole
fields, even after they have obtained considerable size, with a locust
rapidity. It has been made out to be the larva of athalia centifolice, and
is well described by Mr, Yarrell, and more lately by Mr. Curtis in the

406 SUPPLEMENTARY NOTES, BY SIR WM. JARDINE.

Journal of the Agricultural Society of England. It has only come
once under our own observation, disappearing, except in very limited
numbers, the year following.

Jarpine Hatt—Letter LII., page 157, note.

This note refers to the old mansion-house of Jardine-hall, pulled
down about 1812.

Banx-Swattow.—Letter LVII., page 175, text.

Our observation in Scotland and the North of England has always
noted the H. riparia, or bank-swallow, to be the first in arriving.

Irish Fauna.—Letter LXIV., page 201, note.

I forget the authority on which this note regarding Ledum palustre
and Papaver nudicale was inserted. Neither are given in either Mackay’s
“Flora Hibernica” or in Babington’s Manual; and, on writing to
Mr. Maclay for information, he states that Sir Charles Gies¢ké had been
mistaken in the plants—having seen only an imperfect specimen of
Andromeda polifolia-in a hut in Ennis, while the P. cambricum was
found both by Mr. Mackay and Dr. Graham in the habitat given for
the latter.

White’s hopes have been fulfilled, and we have now a host of natu-
ralists working out the natural history of Ireland, among whom William
Thompson has long taken the lead, and in his valuable zoological
papers in the annals of natural history has worked out, minutely and
successfully, many of the departments. These have again assumed the
form of a regular Irish Fauna in the work alluded to by the Editor.
The third volume, the completion of the Birds, being finished. For the
Botany, Mr. Mackay has given us a complete Flora.

Foster-Dams.—Letter LXXVI., page 223, text and notes.

In White's observation we have the account of a cat having suckled
young squirrels. In the “ Zoological Journal,’ Mr. Broderip relates
that he saw a cat give suck to seven young rats. In these cases the
animal does not seem to be able to discriminate ; and we would be
almost tempted to consider that it is the relief alone to be afforded that
allows the intrusion of almost any young animal. In the case of a cow,
or ewe, on the contrary, it is with extreme difficulty that a strange calf
or lamb can be substituted for the real offspring ; and the common
practice among shepherds, in the case of a dead lamb, is to apply the
skin around the stranger before introduction, smell being apparently the
guide to recognition or detection.

Tue Voutrure.—Letter LXXXVI., page 243, notes.

Vultur (cathartes) Aura is an American species, not found in Africa.
The superstition mentioned in the note continues, but there seems no
foundation for it.

SUPPLEMENTARY NOTES, BY THE EDITOR. 407

Hovey-puzzarp.—Letter XCIII., page 265.

An interesting account of the capture of a specimen of this rare bird is
given by Mr. Selby in the “Transactions” of the Berwickshire Naturalists?
Club : it had attacked a ground wasp’s nest, and had scratched out the
comb, with which, as a bait, it was afterwards trapped.

Docs.—Letter CII. page 284, note *.

Sce also Colonel Hamilton Smith, article, “ Dog,” in Griffith’s Cuvier,
and the same gentleman’s “ Dogs” in “ Naturalist’s Library.”

Tue PortucaL Lavret.—Letter CVII., page 296, note.

We have never known the Portugal laurel cut by severe frost, even
when accompanied with a gale. During the last thirty years, plants of
from three or four years of age to thirty have been several times
subjected to a cold at and below 0°, and to frosts of long duration.
They have invariably stood well, and with the common rhododendron,
are among our most valuable evergreens. Dryness or moisture of the
climate or situation may have an influence.

END OF SIR WM. JARDINE’S NOTES,

SUPPLEMENTARY NOTES,

By oR COMMUNICATED TO THE Eprror.
—_—+—
HIYBERNATION oF SwaLLows, page 37 et passim.

Mr. White evidently experienced great pleasure at sight of the first
swallow in spring. Indeed every lover of nature must do so. As for
myself, I love the swallow and its congeners. and would (supposing I had
the choice) give up any other bird we have rather than this. Independent
of its wonderful intelligence, its plumage, as will be found on minute
inspection, is very beautiful; its song interesting and melodious; its form
graceful; andits utility in clearing the air of insects beyond, perhaps, any
estimate we can form. And then who can witness the building of a
martin’s nest, and hear the notes of exulting satisfaction which the loving
little artists utter reciprocally as the work progresses, without entering
into Mr. White’s feelings ?

408 SUPPLEMENTARY NOTES, BY THE EDITOR.

When we consider that swallows have been seen in this country every
month in the year, with the exception perhaps of January, it is not
to be wondered at that Mr. White and some other naturalists should
have clung to the idea of their remaining in a state of torpidity during a
portion of the year, instead of migrating. They have been found in
December merrily hawking for flies round the tower of Windsor Castle,
and again on a mild day in February. These facts may well puzzle
naturalists. The grand flight of the main body of these birds, it is well
known, takes place towards the end of October, and many smaller flights
of six or seven soon afterwards, and lastly the stragglers. Except on
the supposition of some partial hybernation, it is difficult to account for
these birds being occasionally seen in the cold months of December
and February. In illustration of this, a most observant naturalist writes
me, that some years since, on the 28th of December, he went on horse-
back from Rochester to Arundel. The ground was then covered with
snow, and so severe a frost set in, that he was obliged to leave his horse
and proceeded on foot. On arriving at Arundel, several persons were in
front of the coach-office, looking at a couple of martins playing in the sun,
which then shone brightly. He left them so engaged, after watching
them for about half an hour, during which time the birds often rested
themselves by clinging to the wall immediately under the eaves of an
old building nearly opposite, probably the place of their retreat and
shelter.—Ep,

Tue Nuruatcu, pages 65 and 278.

The nuthatch hides nuts as crows do acorns. Magpies, ravens,
and other such birds, among many other things, are prone to hide food
which they cannot consume at the time. Acorns are thus hidden in
the ground, and by such means the growth of oaks would necessarily
be much extended were it not for the operations of agriculture. Those
who have lived in wooded districts, as in Kent, can hardly have failed to
observe how seedling oaks will spring up on arable land, even under
circumstances which forbid the supposition that they could have found
their way there by any other means. It has not, however, been duly
ascertained whether birds who so hide superfiuous food remember their
“ cache,” and return to it again ; or whether the hiding is an act of blind
instinct, implanted in them for an eternal purpose. The nuthatch is
a hider of food in the same way ; for, sitting on one occasion near a
window on the ground-floor, which looked into the garden bordered by
an extensive shrubbery, I saw a nuthatch fly close under the window,
with a hazel-nut in his bill, on which he proceeded to operate in the usual
manner. I saw him endeavour to fix it in several crevices upon the dry
ground where it was hard and he could obtain a purchase ; but after
inflicting upon it many and most vigorous and violent stabs, he was
evidently fain to give it up as a hopeless case. He once more took it up,
flew with it a yard or two, then alighted, and pushed it by main force
into a hole in the ground near the area wall, afier which he caught up
two or three stray pieces of moss with which he covered it completely,
and flew away. Being ill at the time, I could not examine the place until

SUPPLEMENTARY NOTES, BY THE EDITOR. 409

after some days ; and when I did examine it, the nut was gone, but I am
unable to say whether it was removed by the bird or not. I could not be
mistaken in the accuracy of my observations of the process of this hiding,
because I was sitting close to the window, watching the bird uninter-
ruptedly, within two yards of it when he buried the nut.—R. C. Norman.

Frogs, page 70.

Frogs are said not to croak unless under circumstances when it would
appear that they croaked from motives of pleasure; but experience
scems to negative this notion. I lived in a house in the country, which
was surrounded by a deep area; and every spring, when the frogs began
to wake up and move towards water (which they may then be observed
to do instinctively), the bottom of the area was constantly covercd with
frogs (and a few toads), that would seem to have encountered the area
in their passage. Their numbers were so great, and the area so deep
and difficult of ingress and egress, that the daily removal of them, on the
score of humanity, became at length too serious a task, and a man was
sent down at intervals to collect them, which he did by sweeping them
bodily into a corner, and then shovelling them, pell-mell, into a basket.
Those who are inured to physical hardships, become hardy ; a hardy
body is comparatively insensible, and an insensible body will naturally
have a congenial mind. The frogs were then thrown over the garden-
wall into some rough ground, where there was a pond, towards which
they were no doubt proceeding in such numbers when they fell into
my area. I often heard these frogs croak when imprisoned in the
area, and observed that many of them looked miserably thin, weak,
and dry. On one occasion, when I had collected a basket-full—in the
first days of this plague of frogs—and was throwing them, one by one,
over the wall, a half-starved wretch erected himself at the bottom of the
basket, and, like a ghastly phantom, croaked horribly at me, as if in
veproach. In croaking, his throat was distended in a line down the
tuiddle of it, like that of a bird when he sings. That frogs are enabled
to know when water is near, and that they are instinctively attracted
towards it, I have had abundant means of certifying in localities where
there was a pond on the other side of a paling or a wall. I have found
frogs during the spawning season in numbers close against the impeding
fence, with their heads towards it ; and when I threw them over, they
immediately proceeded in the direction of the water. On one occasion
£ watched them as they approached the edge of the pond, and was highly
amused to see the vigour of the final somerset they took from the bank,
and how they stretched their limbs on the soft watery couch, and seemed
io rejoice in the accomplishment of their arduous pilgrimage.—R. C.N.

4

Toaps—BEE-caTcHING, page 70.

I have seen an old toad come forth in the evening, and place himself
in front of a bee-stand, where he would watch until a weary bee, heavily
laden, missed his footing on the board above, and fell upon the ground;

410 SUPPLEMENTARY NOTES, BY THE EDITOR.

and if it thus fell within reach of the toad, he sat still ; if not, he hopped
spasmodically towards him until he came within reach of the bee, which
was at a distance from it about two inches. Then, after looking at it
with much gravity, he opened his great jaws, and protruded a long
tongue, with which he caught up the bee, and, drawing it in again,
instantly closed them on his victim, which he swallowed at once, but
with evident difficulty, for he could only accomplish it after several gulps,
like a dog who tries to swallowia dry substance. The toad then resumed
his position, and “looked out,” like Dampier’s booby, “ for another prize.”
I conclude that the end of the tongue of a toad is viscous, or glutinous,
and that the prey adheres to it, as in the case of other insectivorous

reptiles ; but I do not happen to have ascertained the fact by inspection.
—R. C0. N.

Tue Snake unpER Water, page 73.

I was walking by the side of a very small brook with one of my sons,
when my attention was caught by the motion of a common snake (natrix
torquata), which I saw distinctly at the bottum of the water, behaving as
Thave said. After a while I took him out with my hand, catching him
easily, indeed so easily that Iam led to doubt whether he saw me, and,
therefore, whether he could see well under water. I then carried him
to a bare place in the part of the field near the brook, and put him on
the grass ; here, being ignorant, I suppose, of local bearing, instead of
proceeding to effect his escape by gliding away, he immediately proceeded
to coil himself into a ball, continually turning and involving the folds of
his body so as to protect his head, which he hid as carefully as he could
in the midst of the folds. He also emitted freely the characteristic efflu-
via of his species when made angry or alarmed. After a while he changed
his tactics, elevated his head, looked very fierce, and hissing violently,
darted out his furked tongue ; also, when I put my foot near him, he
struck at my shoe like a viper, and that several times, not only going
through the motion of striking, but hitting my shoe so hard a blow with
his head as to be distinctly audible. I have lived among snakes of the

same species for many years, but never saw any C. natrix behave like
him.—R. C, N.

Wooncocks, page 133.

In the preserves of Lord Abercorn, on the borders of Hertfordshire,
the keepers found a woodcock’s nest, on which the old bird sat very close,
and allowed a very near approach without moving. In order to save the
young ones, they determined to take effectual precautions to hinder them
from escaping, and, therefore, before the eggs were hatched, they sur-
rounded the spot at a sufficient distance with close hurdles, the inter-
stices in which they were careful to fill with heath. The woodcock
continued to set, and was visited constantly, several times in a day, until
one morning when she was gone, and the nest was found to be quite
empty. The ground within the enclosure was then examined rigidly,
first by the men alone, and finally with dogs, but no young woodcock

SUPPLEMENTARY NOTES, BY THE EDITOR. 411

could anywhere be found, and the old birds were seen no more. It was
asserted by my informant, who had it from one of the keepers, that wood-
cocks will take up their young singly in their feet, and fly away with
them ; and that he had seen a woodcock so flying, and he attributed the
above disappearance of the yourg birds to the parents thus instinctively
removing them from apprehended danger.—R. C. N.

AFFECTION OF ANIMALS, page 223.

The ardent affection of animals for their young lasts in general only till
they are able to cater for themselves. When the purposes of nature are
fulfilled the tie is dissolved, and neither parent nor offspring appear to
recognise each other. There are, however, remarkable exceptions on
record, to which the following instance may be added :—A gentleman in
Scotland had a cock golden pheasant, which he placed in a pen with a
solitary chicken. These birds formed a strong attachment for each
other, which was shown in a variety of ways. The pheasant died, and
was stuffed. The chicken was turned loose, but appeared miserable
after the death of its companion; and, on being shown it in its stuffed
state, drooped its wings, and, after vainly striving to get at it, fixed its
eyes on it earnestly, and in this attitude died—Ep.

Mucriiacinous SEeps,— WHY Do THEY NOT READILY GERMINATE ? page 352.

The seeds of ivy are not in general found to grow well, however
carefully planted ; while that which is self-sown, or sown by birds, under
trees and walls, will grow abundantly ; from which fact it has been
supposed that such mucilaginous seeds require to be passed through
some digestive process to render them fruitful. This would not at first
seem to be a well-founded conclusion, since yew-berries and quince-seeds
are as mucilaginous as any of them, and yet grow freely ; not to speak
of the common cress, which, when it is held in the mouth, becomes more
thickly coated with mucilage than the quince itself. The fact, never-
theless, is certainly true that ivy grows “ naturally ”’ at the foot of trees,
the stems of which are its natural supports. Hollies are also commonly
found growing under trees. There is a wood near Newbury, where several
hollies grow under every forest tree ; indeed it may more properly be
called a holly forest. It appears to me that the true inference to be
drawn from the circumstance of the ready geumination of ivy and holly
under forest trees, is that the seeds require an unusual supply of air
as well as moisture, which cannot both be procured in situations that
are exposed to sun and wind. It would be well to test the value of
this surmise, by dropping the berries of ivy and holly when they are
as nearly as possible in the state in which they are eaten by the birds, at
the foot of the trees, and about their roots, where ivy and holly are seen
to abound, and shake down the seeds until they are tolerably covered by
the mossy vegetation which is commonly found in such situations, but
put no earth over them, and then await the result,—R. C. N.

INDEX.

—_+—

A.

Arrection of Animals, 223, 411.

Affection of birds, 153.

Anne, queen, visits Wolmer Forest,
28

Antelope, 56, 57.

Ants, 345.

Aphides, 272, 344.

Arum, or cuckoo-pint, 60.

Ash-tree, 351; a shrew one, 214.

Auk, 163, 244.

Aurora Borealis, 358.

Ayles Holt, or Alice Holt, 12; forest
of, 34.

Be

Bank Swattow, 175, 406.

Barometers at Selborne, Newton
Valence, and South Lambeth, com-
pared, 287, 288.

Barragons, a genteel corded stuff, 25.

Barrow-hogs, 221.

Bats, 48, 45, 85, 104, 144, 156, 327,
401.

Beans sown by birds, 354.

Beech-tree, 13, 351, 396.

Bee-catching toads, 70, 410.

Bees, wild, 340; management of, 290.

Bin’s or Bean’s Pond, for what
remarkable, 32.

Birds, observations on, 305—330;
influenced in their choice of food
by colour, 60, 305.

Black act, 30.

Blackbirds, mountain, 78.

Black-cap, 39, 49, 106, 112, 132, 189,
099.

Black game, 27.

Black Jack, 140.

Blackthorn, winter, 352.

Blatta Orientalis (cockroach), 337.
Blind-worm (anguis fragilis), 71.
Bog oak, 26, 397.

Bohemian chatterer, 48.
Bombylius medius, 343.

Botany of Selborne, 238—242.
Brutes, their sociality, 205.

Bug, harvest, 139.

Bullfinch, 60, 131.

Bunting, common, 51,401.
Bustards, 126, 130, 153.
Butcher-bird, 77, 98, 161.
Buzzard, 206, 307.

Cc.

Canary-Birps, 48, 132. *

Cancers supposed to be cured by
toads, 75, 81.

Cane, or common weasel, 59.

Capercailzie, or wood-grouse, 27,398.

Carp, 188.

Castration, its effects, 221.

Cats, 116, 223, 333.

Celibacy of birds, 115.

Chaffers, 139, 188, 335.

Chaffinches, 51, 130, 132.

Chestnut timber, 351.

Chickens, 247.

Chiff-chaf, 321.

Chinese dogs, 282.

Chirper, 62.

Choughs, Cornish, 161.

Cimex Linearis, 338.

Coccus vitis vinifere, 271:

INDEX,

Cockroach, 337.

Congregating of birds, 147, 169, 326.
Coots, 245,

Crickets, field, 253.

house, 256, 338.

mole, 258.

Crossbill, 41, 124, 173, 400.

Crows, 138, 293.

ee 91, 107, 113, 123, 142, 217,
Cuckoo-pint, 60.

Cucumbers set by bees, 354.
Curlew, stone, 61, 79, 97, 129, 320.

D.

Dascuicks, 245.

Daws, 80, 81.

Destruction of birds, 398, 399.
Deer, 29, 35, 55, 111, 119.
Deer-stealers, their exploits, 30, 398.
Divers, 244; great speckled, 317.
Dogs, 282—284, 407. .

Doves, 138, 266—268.

Drey, or nest, 333.

Ducks, 310.

Dung of nestling-birds, 167.

E.

EaGie-owlL, 103, 404.
Earth-worms, 346.
Echoes, 232—236, 287.

. Eels in the island of Ely, 187.
Eft, 71, 75.
Elm, or wych-hazel, 16, 17, 396.
Eve-jarr, 321.

F.

Farry nines, 355.

Falcon, peregrine, 40, 46, 281, 400.

Fernchafer, 145, 188, 336.

Fern-owl, 114, 123, 145, 219, 321,
323.

Fieldfares, 102, 103, 110, 133.

Fish, 345 ; gold and silver, 273.

Flies, 140, 159, 160, 342, 405.

Flight of birds, 242.

Fly-catcher, 38, 63, 115, 155, 189.

Folk lore, 213, 229, 257.

Food of birds, 307, 315, 329.

413

Food influences the colour of birds
and animals, 60, 305.

Forest-fly, or side-fly, 160.

Foster-dams, 223, 406.

Fossil shells, 20, 397.

Fossil wood, 285.

Fowls, 247, 310.

Freestone, 21.

Frogs, 67, 70, 409.

Frost, its effect on animals, 113; on
trees and shrubs, 289; on fish,
294 ; on birds, 295.

G.

GALLINE ORDER, 123, 344.

Geese, wild, 103, 310.

Geology of Selborne, 16, 396.

German silk-tail (garrulus bohemicus),
48.

Gipsies, 207.

Glow-worm, 92, 346.

Goat-sucker, 83, 86, 321—323.

Gossamer, 203.

Grasshopper-lark, 38, 63.

Greatham, the manor-farm, 31.

Grosshawk, 41, 400.

Gross-beaks, 41, 329.

Gryllus domesticus (house cricket),
256, 338.

Guinea fowls, 310, 311.

H.

Hares, white, 103.

Hanger, the, 13.
Harvest-bug, 139.

Hatching of eggs, 107, 114, 404.
Hawkley-hanger, 251.
Hawks, 219, 265.

Hazel, wych, 16.

Heath-fires, why lighted, 30.
Heath burnings, 31.
Hedge-hogs, 109, 404.
Hedge-sparrows, 113, 187.
Hellebore, stinking, 240, 241.
Heliotropes, 249.
Hen-harriers, 187, 316.
Herons, 83.

Himantopus, 260.

414

Hirundines, 159, 172, 197, 325.

Hogs, 222.

Holt, the district of, 33.

Honey-buzzards, 264, 307, 407.

Honey-dew, 357.

Hoopoes, 40.

Hops, 353.

Horse, 333.

Hounds, 333.

House-flies, 343.

House-martins, 42, 49, 115,121,151,
164—170, 188, 269, 275, 278.

House-swallows, 48, 280.

Humming-birds, 340.

Huxham, his observations on rain at
Plymouth, 286.

Hybernation of swallows, 37, 407.

1.

IcHNEUMON FLY, 342.

Idiot boy, 211.

Insect-eating birds, 306.

Insects, or vermes, observations on,
334—348.

Instinct of birds, 49, 155, 165, 277,
312.

Irish Fauna, 201, 406.

Ivy berries, 352.

J.

Jackpaws, 80, 81.
Jar bird, what, 64.
Jardine Hall, 157, 406.

K.
Kites, 243.

L.
Lampreys, 74,
Land-rail, 314.
Language of birds, 245.
Lapwings, 163.
Larks, 60, 62, 76, 138.
Leprosy, a case of, at Selborne, 258.
Leveret suckled by a cat, 223.
Lime blossoms, 352.
Linnets, 51, 132,
Lizard, 79, 85,

INDEX.

Loaches, from Ambresbury, 74.
Loon, 317.

M.

Maccors, 336 ; star-tailed, 141.

Magpies, 82, 198, 309.

Marsh plants, 32, 398.

Martins, 42, 49. 115,121, 151, 164—
170, 182—186, 269, 275, 324.

May-fly (ephemera), 91, 339.

Mazel, Mr. Peter, engraver, 74.

Meteorological observations, 24, 356
— 366, 397.

Mezzotinto, the inventor, 35.

Mice, harvest, 46, 53, 188.

water shrew, 104.

Migration of birds, 50, 51, 52, 64,
78, 81, 84, 86, 93—96, 102, 112,
115, 117, 185—138, 143, 146, 152,
169,199, 305—307, 314, 328, 401.

Miller’s-thumb, or bull’s-head, 42,
100.

Missel-thrush, 161, 198.

Misseltoe, its utility, 200.

Moose-deer, 111, 119.

Mosquitoes, 159.

Moths, 329.

Mucilaginous seeds, why they do not
readily germinate, 352, 411.

Mus amphibius, 39, 399.

Musce (flies), 343.

Museum, the countryman’s, 40.

Music of birds, 279.

N.

Narturatist’s Calendar, as kept at
Selborne, 367.

Nature, the economy of, 33, 328.

Newt, 71.

Nightingales, 131, 137, 186.

Night-jar, 84.

Nose-fly, 342,

Nuthatch, 64, 278, 403, 408.

0.

Oaxs, 18, 349, 397.
Oak-hanger ponds, 32.

INDEX,

Ocstrus curvicauda, 140, 342.

Osprey, 160.

Otter killed at Selborne, 117.

Ousels, 48, 77, 78, 81, 88, 96, 102,
120, 124, 125, 138, 152, 161, 173.

Owls, 42, 114, 115, 142, 145, 157,
219, 330.

Ps

Pairing of birds, 115, 118.

Parasite hatching of eggs, 107, 114,
404.

Parental affection of birds, 19, 154,
312.

Partridges, 310, 311.

Peacocks, 141.

Pea-hens, 313.

Peregrine falcon, 281.

Pettichaps, 280.

Phalena Quercus, 339.

Pheasant, 312.

Pigeons, 138, 161, 265.

Pine-tree (taxodiwm distichon), 17.

Plestor, its history, 17, 214.

Plover, the stilt, a curious bird, 260.

Poems, 1—9.

Ponds on hills, 216.

Poplar-tree, 351.

Portugal laurel, 296, 407.

Poultry, 309.

Ptinus Pectinicornis, 336.

Q.

QuaprRupeps, observations on, 331—
334.

Quails, 52, 306.

Queen’s bank, why so called, 28.

R.

Rassits, 321.

Rain, mean quantity of, 24, 85, 286.
Rat, water, 104.

Ravens, 19.

Red-breasts, 106, 188.

Red deer, 28.

Redstart, 63, 187, 189,

Red-wings, 143.

Reed-sparrow, 103, 106, 113, 118.
Reed-warbler, 89.

Reptiles, 97.

Respiratory organs, 402,

Ring-doves, 267, 315.

Ring-ousel, 48, 77, 78, 81, 88, 96,
102, 120, 125, 138, 152, 161, 173.

Robin, 187.

Rooks, 307.

milk-white, 60, 403.

Rush-candles, 208.

8.

Satzcaria, 89, 97.

Sand-martin, 182, 324.

Sand-piper, 77, 404.

Scarabeus, or melolontha fullo, 38.

Scallops, or pectines, found in quar-
ries, 21.

Scopoli’s AnnusPrimus, 118,122,127,

Scott (Sir Walter), his oak snuf-
box, 26.

Sedge-warbler, 89, 90, 106, 105.

Seed lying dormant, 353.

Selborne, and its environs, 1, 13;
its streams, 15; geology, 16, 396;
parish, 24, 1903 zoology, 42;
botany, 238 3 ornithology, 259 ;
superstition of, 212.

Selborne-hanger, 13.

Sex of birds, 118.

Sheep, 331; of Sussex downs, 172.

Shrew-ash, 214.

Singing-birds, 98, 106, 112, 114, 131.

Slugs, 347.

Snails, 347,

Snake under water, 73, 410.

Snakes, 72, 73, 97.

Snakes’ slough, 347.

Snipes, 39, 66, 162, 201.

Snowflecks, 103.

Soft-billed birds, 120, 405.

Sparrow-hawks, 187, 265.

Sparrows, 113, 118, 123, 187.

Sphynx Ocellata, 340.

Spiders, 203.

Spiracula of animals, 55.

Squirrels, 333.

Squnck, or stonck, 97.

Sticklebacks, 73.

Stilt-plovers, 260.

416

Stock-dove, 138, 161, 266.

Stone curlew, él, 75, 97, 129, 320,
403.

Storm-cock, 161.

Summer bird of passage, 64, 93, 128,
305.

Summer-duck, 311.

Sussex downs, 171.

Swallows, 37, 48, 87, 115, 122, 128
148,161, 164, 168, 174181, 186,
197, 227, 280, 326—328, 405.

Swans, 187.

Swifts, 38, 49, 104, 105, 122, 163,
190—196, 237, 269.

Sycamore tree, 351.

T.

Tears, 157, 163.

Thompson’s Natural History of Ire-
land, 201.

Thiush, 308; golden, 135.

Thrush, missel, 161, 198, 309.

‘Ti; ule, or empedes, 344.

‘Vidarks, 106, 161.

itn ouse, 145, 188, 200.

Toads, 67,70, 75, 81, 403, 409.

Torpidity of birds, 38, 325, 327.

Tortoise, 127, 149—151, 174, 261—
264,

Trees, dripping, 215; on planting,
289; order of losing their leaves,
349: ; size and growth, ib.

Tremella nostec, 355,

Truffles, 354.

Turkey, 247.

Turnip fly, 139.

U.
Umus montana, 16.

THE

INDEX.

Vv.

VEGETABLES, observations on, 349—
355.

Viper, 71, 219.

Vulture, 243, 406.

W.

Waeraits, 52, 162, 328, 401.

Waldon Lodge,inWolmer Forest, 31.

Wasps, 341; nests, 306.

Water-bug, 338.

Water-rats, 39, 399.

Weasel, common, 59, 187.

Weather, summary of the, 359—
366.

Wheat, 364.

Wheatear, 52, 131, 201, 402.

Whin-chat, 131, 201.

Whip-poor-will, 84.

Whitethroats, 132, 189.

Winter birds of passage, 95, 146.

Wolmer forest, 25—36 ; pond, 32.

Woodcocks, 39, 121, 133, 137, 144,
410.

Wood-grouse (capercatlzie) 27, 398.

Wood-larks, 92.

Wood-pigeons, 138, 267.

Wood-wren, 38, 309.

Worms, 71, 224—226, 346.

Wren, 38, 62, 63, 67,7 6, 157, 138,
199, 320, 399.

Wrynecks, 329.

Wych-elms, celebrated, 17.

¥.

YELLow-prrp, or grasshopper-lark,
38, 63.

Yeoman-prickers, their agility, 28.

END.

BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.