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THE NATURAL HISTORY OF SELBORNE

VOL. II

1

Spring in a Selbome garden.

Natural History

OF

Selborne

AND

OBSERVATIONS ON NATURE

BY

GILBERT WHITE

WITH THE TEXT AND NEW LETTERS
OF THE BUCKLAND EDITION

INTRODUCTION BY

JOHN BURROUGHS

ILLUSTRATIONS BY

CLIFTON JOHNSON

TORONTO

MUSSON BOOK CO.. Limited

1904

SEEW BY

PRESERVATiO?4

SEaVICL:3

MAY 7 1965 '*

9 8 oil 3

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

VOL. II. °^

Spring in a Selborne garden

A Selborne stile

House-swallows

Selborne cottages

Sand martins

A nightingale

A weasel .

Redbreasts

Swifts

A look across the Plestor

Magpies and their nest

Gypsies in front of " The Wakes "

A rush-light

Catching bees .

A pond on Selborne hill

A walk in the vicar's gard

An old hop-kiln

Old beehives .

A village lane .

A jackdaw

Skylarks .

Sparrow hawks

Plowing under the Hanger

A successor to White's tortoise in the garden at " The W

Burning an old hedge under the Hanger

A jay

A modern observer of nature .

Frontispiece

vi

2

9

14

21

22

.

24

.

31

Facing

37

43

.

54

.

56

61

Facing

68

Facing

80

92

Facing

95

.

102

.

107

.

108

114

.

127

''akes "

137

Facing

141

142

Facing

154

fAGfi

A peregrine falcon . ......... 165

Selborne down . , Facing 171

The tower of Selborne church 174

The weather 183

The vicarage at Newton Valence 188

Selborne church seen from the fields 214

A Selborne stile.

THE

NATURAL HISTORY OF SELBORNE,

LETTER LVII.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

The house-swallow,^ or chimney-swallow, is un-
doubtedly the first comer of all the British hirim-
dines ; and appears in general on or about the 13th of
April, as I have remarked from many years' observa-
tion. Not but now and then a straggler is seen much
earlier : and, in particular, when I was a boy I ob-
served a swallow for a whole day together on a
sunny warm Shrove Tuesday ; which day could not
fall out later than the middle of March, and often
happened early in February.

It is worth remarking that these birds are seen
first about lakes and mill-ponds ; and it is also very
particular, that if these early visitors happen to find
frost and snow, as was the case in the two dreadful
springs of 1770 and 1771, they immediately with-
draw for a time. A circumstance this much more in
favour of hiding than migration ; since it is much

* Chimney-Swallow, Hirundo rustica, Linnaeus.

I

r-

more probable that a bird should retire to its hyber-
naculum just at hand, than return for a week or two
only to warmer latitudes.

The swallow, though called the chimney-swallow%
by no means builds altogether in chimneys, but often

House-swallows.

within barns and out-houses, against the rafters ; and
so she did in Virgil's time :—'' Garrula quam tignis
nidos suspendat hirundo." '* The twittering swallow
hanpfs its nest from the beams."

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 a shaft of an old well, through which chalk
had been formerly drawn up for the purpose of
manure : but in general with us this hirundo breeds
in chimneys ; and loves to haunt those stacks where
there is a constant fire, no doubt for the sake of
warmth. Not that it can subsist in the immediate
shaft where there is a fire ; but prefers one adjoining
to that of the kitchen, and disregards the perpetual
smoke of that funnel, as I have often observed with
some degree of wonder.

Five or six or more feet down the chimney does
this little bird begin to form her nest, about the mid-
dle of May, which consists, like that of the house-
martin, of a crust or shell composed of dirt or mud,
mixed with short pieces of straw to render it tough
and permanent : with this difference, that whereas
the shell of the martin is nearly hemispheric, that of
the swallow is open at the top, and like half a deep
dish : this nest is lined with fine grasses, and feathers
which are often collected as they fioat in the air.

Wonderful is the address which this adroit bird

3

shows all day long- in ascending and descending
with security through so narrow a pass. When hov-
ering over the mouth of the funnel, the vibration of
her wings acting on the confined air occasions a rum-
bling like thunder. It is not improbable that the
dam submits to this inconvenient situation so low in
the shaft, in order to secure her broods from rapa-
cious birds, and particularly from owls, which fre-
quently fall down chimneys, perhaps in attempting
to get at these nestlings.

The swallow lays from four to six white eggs,
dotted with red specks ; and brings out her first
brood about the last week in June, or the first week
in July. The progressive method by which the
young are introduced into life is very amusing : first,
they emerge from the shaft with difficulty enough,
and often fall down into the rooms below ; for a day
or so they are fed on the chimney-top, and then are
conducted to the dead leafless bough of some tree,
where sitting in a row they are attended with great
assiduity, and may then be called perchers. In a
day or two more they become flyers, but are still
unable to take their own food ; therefore they play-
about near the place where the dams are hawking
for flies ; and when a mouthful is collected, at a cer-
tain signal given the dam and the nestling advance,
rising towards each other, and meeting at an angle ;
the young one all the while uttering such a little
quick note of gratitude and complacency, that a per-

son must have paid very little regard to the wonders
of nature that has not often remarked this feat.

The dam betakes herself immediately to the busi-
ness of a second brood as soon as she is disengaged
from her first ; which at once associates with the
first broods of house-martins ; and with them con-
gregates, clustering on sunny roofs, towers, and
trees. This hirundo brings out her second brood
towards the middle and end of August.

All the summer long the swallow is a most in-
structive pattern of unwearied industry and affec-
tion ; for from morning to night, while there is a
family to be supported, she spends the whole day in
skimming close to the ground, and exerting the most
sudden turns and quick evolutions. Avenues, and
long walks under hedges, and pasture-fields, and
mown meadows where cattle graze, are her delight,
especially if there are trees interspersed ; because
in such spots insects most abound. When a fly is
taken, a smart snap from her bill is heard, resem-
bling the noise at the shutting of a watch-case ; but
the motion of the mandibles is too quick for the eye.

The swallow, probably the male bird, is the
excubitor to house-martins, and other little birds,
announcing the approach of birds of prey. For as
soon as a hawk appears, with a shrill alarming note
he calls all the swallows and martins about him ;
who pursue in a body, and buffet and strike their
enemy till they have driven him from the village,

5

r-

darting- down from above on his back, and rising in
a perpendicular line in perfect security. This bird
will also sound the alarm and strike at cats when
they climb on the roofs of houses, or otherwise
approach the nest. Each species of 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 also dip and wash a little.

The swallow is a delicate songster, and in soft
sunny weather sings both perching and flying ; on
trees in a kind of concert, and on chimney-tops : it is
also a bold flyer, ranging to distant downs and com-
mons even in windy weather, which the other spe-
cies seem much to dislike ; nay, even frequenting
exposed sea-port towns and making little excursions
over the salt water. Horsemen on wide downs are
often closely attended by a little party of swallows
for miles together, which plays before and behind
them, sweeping around and collecting all the skulk-
ing insects that are roused by the trampling of the
horses' feet : when the wind blows hard, without this
expedient, they are often forced to settle to pick up
their lurking prey.

* " Now suddenly he skims the glassy pool,

Now quaintly dips, and with an arrow's speed
Whisks by. I love to lie awake, and hear
His morning song twittered to dawning day."
6

This species feeds much on little coleopiera, as
well as on gnats and flies ; and often settles on dug
ground, or paths, for gravels to grind and digest its
food. Before they depart, for some weeks they for-
sake houses and chimneys to a bird, and roost in
trees ; and usually withdraw about the beginning of
October ; though some few stragglers may appear
at times till the first week in November.

[September 13, 1791. The congregating flocks of
hirundines on the church and tower are very beau-
tiful and amusing ! When they fly off together from
the roof, on any alarm, they quite swarm in the air.
But they soon settle in heaps, and preening their
feathers, and lifting up their wings to admit the sun,
seem highly to enjoy the warm situation. Thus
they spend the heat of the day, preparing for their
emigration, and, as it were, consulting when and
where they are to go. The flight about the church
seems to consist chiefly of house-martins, about 400
in number ; but there are other places of rendezvous
about the village frequented at the same time.*

It is remarkable, that though most of them sit on

* Of their migration the proofs are such as will scarcely admit of a
doubt. Sir Charles Wager and Captain Wright saw vast flocks of them
at sea, when on their passage from one country to another. Our author,
Mr. White, saw M'hat he deemed the actual migration of these birds
which he has described at p. 6g, and again in the above extract ; and I
once observed a large flock of house-martins myself on the roof of the
church here at Catsfield, which acted exactly in the manner here described
by Mr. White, sometimes preening their feathers and spreading their

7

the battlements and roof, yet many hang or cling
for some time by their claws against the surface of
the walls, in a manner not practised by them at any
other time of their remaining with us.

The swallows seem to delight more in holding
their assemblies on trees.

November 3, 1789. Two swallows were seen
this morning at Newton vicarage-house hovering
and settling on the roofs and out-buildings. None
have been observed at Selborne since October 11.
It is very remarkable, that after the hirundines have
disappeared for some weeks, a few are occasionally
seen again : sometimes in the first week in Novem-
ber, and that only for one day. Do they not with-
draw and slumber in some hiding place during the
interval ? for we cannot suppose they had migrated
to warmer climes, and so returned again for one day.
Is it not more probable that they are awakened from
sleep, and like the bats are come forth to collect a
little food? Bats appear at all seasons through the
autumn and spring months, when the thermometer is
at 50°, because then phalcence and moths are stirring.

These swallows looked like young ones.] — Ob-
servations ON Nature.

Some few pairs haunt the new and open streets
of London, next the fields, but do not enter, like the

wings to the sun, and then flying off" all together, but soon returning to
their former situation. The greatest part of these birds seemed to be
young ones. — Markwick.

8

house-martin, the close and crowded parts of the
city.

Both male and female are distinguished from
their congeners by the length and forkedness of
their tails. They are undoubtedly the most nimble
of all the species ; and when the male pursues the
female in amorous chase, they then go beyond their
usual speed, and exert a rapidity almost too quick
for the eye to follow.

p--

Selhorne cottages.

After this circumstantial detail of the life and
discerning aTop<yri of the swallow, 1 shall add, for
your further amusement, an anecdote or two not

much in favour of their sagacity.

i8 9

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 spoiled whenever that
implement was wanted: and, what is stranger still,
another bird of the same species built its nest on
the wings and body of an owl that happened by
accident to hang dead and dry from the rafter of a
barn. This owl, with the nest on its wings, and with
eggs in the nest, was brought as a curiosity worthy
the most elegant private museum in Great Britain.
The owner, struck with the oddity of the sight,
furnished the bringer with a large shell, or conch,
desiring him to fix it just where the owl hung: the
person did as he was ordered, and the following year
a pair, probably the same pair, built their nest in the
conch, and laid their eggs.

The owl and the conch make a strange grotesque
appearance, and are not the least curious specimens
in that wonderful collection of art and nature.

Thus is instinct in animals, taken the least out of
its way, an undistinguishing, limited faculty; and
blind to every circumstance that does not immedi-
ately respect self-preservation, or lead at once to the
propagation or support of their species.

Selborne, Sept. g, 1767.

10

LETTER LVIII.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

I RECEIVED your favour of the 8th, and am
pleased to find that you read my little history of
the swallow with your usual candour : nor was I
the less pleased to find that you made objections
where you saw reason.

As to the quotations, it is difficult to say pre-
cisely which species of hirundo Virgil might in-
tend in the lines in question, since the ancients did
not attend to specific differences like modern natu-
ralists ; yet somewhat may be gathered, enough to
incline me to suppose that in the two passages
quoted the poet had his eye on the swallow.

In the first place the epithet garrida suits the
swallow well, which is a great songster ; and not the
martin, which is rather a mute bird ; and when it
sings is so inward as scarce to be heard. Besides,
if tignuin in that place signifies a rafter rather than a
beam, as it seems to me to do, then it must be the
swallow that is alluded to, and not the martin ; since
the former does frequently build within the roof
against the rafters ; while the latter always, as far as
I have been able to observe, builds without the roof
against eaves and cornices.

As to the simile, too much stress must not be
laid on it ; yet the epithet 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 (com-
paratively clumsy) of the martin well represent the
sudden and artful evolutions and quick turns which
Juturna gave to her brother's chariot, so as to elude
the eager pursuit of the enraged ^neas. The verb
sonat also seems to imply a bird that is somewhat
loquacious.*

We have had a very wet autumn and winter, so
as to raise the springs to a pitch beyond anything
since 1764; which was a remarkable year for floods
and high waters. The land-springs, which we call
levants, break out much on the downs of Sussex,
Hampshire, and Wiltshire. The country people say
when the levants rise corn will always be dear;
meaning that when the earth is so glutted with
water as to send forth springs on the downs and
uplands, the corn-vales must be drowned ; and so it
has proved for these ten or eleven years past. For

* " As when the black swallow flies through the great palace of some
wealthy lord, sweeping with its wings through the lofty halls, picking up
tiny scraps of food for its chirping nestlings, at one time twittering in
the empty porches, and at another round the watery ponds."

" Nigra velut magnas domini cum divitis aedes
Pervolat, et pennis alta atria lustrat hirundo,
Pabula parva legens, nidisque loquacibus escas :
Et nunc porticibus vacuis, nunc humida circum
Stagnat sonat." — (Virg. ^n. xii. 473-477.)
12

land-springs have never obtained more in the mem-
ory of man than during that period ; nor has there
been known a greater scarcity of all sorts of grain,
considering the great improvements of modern hus-
bandry. Such a run of wet seasons a century or two
ago would, I am persuaded, have occasioned a fam-
ine, therefore pamphlets and newspaper letters, that
talk of combinations, tend to inflame and mislead ;
since we must not expect plenty till Providence
sends us more favourable seasons.

The wheat of last year, all round this district, and
in the county of Rutland and elsewhere, yields re-
markably bad : and our wheat on the ground, by the
continual late sudden vicissitudes from fierce frost to
pouring rains, looks poorly ; and the turnips rot very
fast.

Selborne, Feb. 14, 1774.

LETTER LIX.

To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

The sand-martin, or bank-martin [Hiriindo riparia,
Linnasus), is by much the least of any of the British
hirundines ; and, as far as we have ever seen, the
smallest known hiriindo : though Brisson asserts that
there is one much smaller, and that is the Hirimdo
esculenta.

13

But it is much to be regretted that it is scarce
possible for any observer to be so full and exact as
he could wish in reciting the circumstances attend-
ing the life and conversation of this little bird, since
it is fera naturd, at least in this part of the kingdom,
disclaiming all domestic attachments, and haunting

Sand-martins.

wild heaths and commons where there are large
lakes ; while the other species, especially the swallow

14

and house-martin, are remarkably gentle and domes-
ticated, and never seem to think themselves safe but
under the protection of man.

Here are in this parish, in the sand-pits and banks
of the lakes of Wolmer Forest, several colonies of
these birds ; and yet they are never seen in the vil-
lage ; nor do they at all frequent the cottages that
are scattered about in that wild district. The only
instance I ever remember where this species haunts
any building is at the town of Bishop's Waltham, in
this county, where many sand-martins nestle and
breed in the scaffold holes of the back-wall of William
of Wykeham's stables : but then this wall stands in
a very sequestered and retired inclosure, and faces
upon a large and beautiful lake. Indeed this species
seems so to delight in large waters, that no instance
occurs of their abounding but near vast pools or
rivers: and in particular it has been remarked that
they swarm in the banks of the Thames in some
places below London bridge.

It is curious to observe with what different de-
grees of architectonic skill Providence has endowed
birds of the same genus, and so nearly correspondent
in their general mode of life ! * For while the swal-

* " Each creature hath a wisdom of its own ;

The pigeons feed their tender offspring, crying,
When they are callow, but withdraw their food
When they are fledged, that they may teach them flying."

Herbert.

15

low and the house-martin discover the greatest ad-
dress in raising and securel}^ 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 one would be disinclined to believe that this
weak bird, with her soft and tender bill and claws,
should ever be able to bore the stubborn sand-bank
without entirely disabling herself ; yet with these
feeble instruments have I seen a pair of them make
great despatch : and could remark how much they
had scooped that day by the fresh sand which ran
down the bank, and was of a different colour from
that which lay loose and bleached in the sun.

In what space of time these little artists are able
to mine and finish these cavities I have never been
able to discover, for reasons given above ; but it
would be a matter worthy of observation, where it
falls in the way of any naturalist to 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 for-
wardness for next spring is allowing perhaps too

i6

much foresight and rerum prudentia to a simple
bird. May not the cause of these latebrce being left
unfinished arise from their meeting in those places
with strata too harsh, hard, and solid for their pur-
pose, which they relinquish, and go to a fresh spot
that works more freely ? Or may they not in other
places fall in with a soil as much too loose and
mouldering, liable to founder, and threatening to
overwhelm them and their labours?

One thing is remarkable — that, after some years,
the old holes are forsaken and new ones bored ; per-
haps because the old habitations grow foul and fetid
from long use, or because they may so abound with
fleas as to become untenantable. This species of
swallow moreover is strangely annoyed with fleas:
and we have seen fleas, bed-fleas {Pulex irritans),
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 crypto-
game, carrying on the business of nidification, incu-
bation, and the support of its young in the dark, it

17

would not be so easy to ascertain the time of breed-
ing, were it not for the coming forth of the broods,
which appear much about the time, or rather some-
what earlier than those of the swallow. The nest-
lings are supported in common like those of their
congeners, with gnats and other small insects; and
sometimes they are fed with libellulce (dragon-flies)
almost as long as themselves. In the last week in
June we have seen a row of these sitting on a rail
near a great pool as perchers ; and so young and
helpless, as easily to be taken by hand : but whether
the dams ever feed them on the wing, as swallows
and house-martins do, we have never yet been able
to determine : nor do we know whether they pursue
and attack birds of prey.

When they happen to breed near hedges and in-
closures, they are frequently dispossessed of their
breeding holes by the house-sparrow, which is on
the same account a fell adversary to house-martins.

These hirundines are no songsters, but rather
mute, making only a little harsh noise when a person
approaches their nests. They seem not to be of a
sociable turn, never with us congregating with their
congeners in the autumn. Undoubtedly they breed
a second time, like the house-martin and swallow, and
withdraw about Michaelmas.

Though in some particular districts they may

happen to abound, yet in the whole, in the south of

England at least, is this much the rarest species.

i8

For there are few towns or large villages but what
abound with house-martins ; few churches, towers,
or steeples, but what are haunted by some swifts :
scarce a hamlet or a single cottage-chimney that has
not its swallow ; while the bank-martins, scattered
here and there, live a sequestered life among some
abrupt sand-hills, and in the precipitous banks of
some few rivers.

These birds have a peculiar manner of flying :
flitting about with odd jerks, and vacillations, not
unlike the motions of a butterfly. Doubtless the
flight of all hirimdines is influenced by, and adapted
to, the peculiar sort of insects which furnish their
food. Hence it would be worth inquiry to examine
what particular genus of insects affords the principal
food of each respective species of swallow.

Notwithstanding what has been advanced above,
some few sand-martins, I see, haunt the skirts of Lon-
don, frequenting the dirty pools in Saint George's
Fields, and about Whitechapel. The question is
where these build, since there are no banks or bold
shores in that neighbourhood : perhaps they nestle
in the scaffold holes of some old or new deserted
building. They dip and wash as they fly sometimes,
like the house-martin and swallow.

Sand-martins differ from their congeners in the

diminutiveness of their size, and in their colour,

which is what is usually called a mouse-colour.

Near Valencia in Spain, they are taken, says Wil-

19

lughby, and sold in the markets for the table ; and
are called by the country people, probably from
their desultory jerking manner of flight, Papilion de
Moittagna.

Selborne, Feb. 26, 1774.

LETTER LX.
To Thomas Pennant, Esq.

Before your letter arrived, and of my own ac-
cord, 1 have been remarking and comparing the tails
of the male and female swallow, and this ere any
young birds appeared ; so that there is no danger
of confounding the dams with their pulli : and be-
sides, as they were then always in pairs, and busied
in the employ of nidification, there could be no room
for mistaking the sexes, nor the individuals of differ-
ent chimneys the one for the other. From all my
observations, it constantly appeared that each sex
has the long feathers in its tail that give it that
forked shape ; with this difference, that they are
longer in the tail of the male than in that of the
female.

Nightingales, when their young first come
abroad, and are helpless, make a plaintive and a
jarring noise ; and also a snapping or cracking,
pursuing people along the hedges as they walk:

these last sounds seem intended for menace and
defiance.

The grass-
hopper - lark
chirps all night
in the height
of summer.

Swans turn
white the sec-
ond year, and
breed the third.
Weasels prey
on moles, as ap-
pears by their
being some-
times caught in
mole-traps.

Sparrow hawks sometimes breed in old crows'
nests, and the kestril in churches and ruins.

There are supposed to be two sorts of eels in the
island of Ely. The threads sometimes discovered in
eels are perhaps their young : the generation of eels
is very dark and mysterious.

Hen-harriers breed on the ground, and seem
never to settle on trees.

[Of this bold bird White afterwards writes in his
" Observations : " — ''A gentleman flushed a pheasant
in a wheat stubble, and shot at it; when, notwith-
standing the report of the gun, it was immediately

A nightingale.

r-

pursued by the blue hawk known by the name of the
hen-harrier, but escaped into some covert. He then
sprung a second and a third in the
same field, that got away in the
same manner ; the hawk hover-
ing round him all the while that
he was beating the field, con-
scious no doubt of the game that
lurked in the stubble. Hence
^^v*/^^ ^^ ^^y conclude that this bird

^J^^^ V of prey was rendered very dar-

ing and bold by hunger, and that
hawks cannot always seize their
game when they please. We may
farther observe, that they cannot
pounce on their quarry on the
ground, where it might be able to make a stout
resistance, since so large a fowl as a pheasant could
not but be visible to the piercing eye of a hawk,
when hovering over the field. Hence that propen-
sity of cowering and squatting till they are almost
trod on, which no doubt was intended as a mode of
security ; though long rendered destructive to the
whole race of GallincB by the invention of nets and
guns.]

When redstarts shake their tails they move them
horizontally, as dogs do when they fawn : the tail of
a wagtail, when in motion, bobs up and down like
that of a jaded horse.

%-..

^'<\^'^

A weasel.

Hedge-sparrows have a remarkable flirt with
their wings in breeding-time ; as soon as frosty
mornings come they make a very piping plaintive
noise.

Many birds which become silent about Midsum-
mer reassume their notes again in September ; as the
thrush, blackbird, woodlark, willow-wren, &c. ; hence
August 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?

Linnaeus ranges plants geographically : palms in-
habit the tropics, grasses the temperate zones, and
mosses and lichens the polar circles ; no doubt ani-
mals may be classed in the same manner with pro-
priety.

House-sparrows build under eaves in the spring ;
as the weather becomes hotter they get out for
coolness, and nest in plum-trees and apple-trees.
These birds have been known sometimes to build
in rooks' nests, and sometimes in the forks of boughs
under rooks' nests.

As my neighbour was housing a rick he observed
that his dogs devoured all the little red mice that
they could catch, but rejected the common mice;
and that his cats ate the common mice, refusing
the red.

Redbreasts sing all through the spring, summer,
and autumn. The reason that they are called au-

23

tumn songsters is, because in the first two seasons
their voices are drowned and lost in the general

chorus ; in the
latter their song
becomes distin-
guishable. Many
songsters of the
autumn seem to
be the young
cock redbreasts
of that year :
notwithstanding
the prejudices
in their favour,
they do much
mischief in gar-
dens to the sum-
mer-fruits. They
eat also the ber-
ries of the ivy, the honeysuckle, and the Euonymus
Europceus, or spindle-tree.

The titmouse, which early in February begins to
make two quaint notes like the whetting of a saw, is
the marsh titmouse ; the great titmouse sings with
three cheerful joyous notes, and begins about the
same time.

Wrens sing all the winter through, frost ex-
cepted.

House-martins came remarkably late this year
24

/,•.

' 1 V

ii \

Redbreasts.

both in Hampshire and Devonshire. Is this cir-
cumstance for or against either hiding or migration ?

Most birds drink sipping at intervals, but pigeons
take a long continued draught, like quadrupeds.

Notwithstanding what 1 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 Scarabceus solsti-
tialis, 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 Reading is a stream or canal running under the
stables and out into the fields on the other side of
the road : in this water are many carps, which lie
rolling about in sight, being fed by travellers, who
amuse themselves by tossing them bread ; but as
soon as the weather grows at all severe these fishes
are no longer seen, because they retire under the
stables, where they remain till the return of spring.
Do they lie in a torpid state? If they do not, how
are they supported ?

The note of the whitethroat, which is continually

repeated, and often attended with odd gesticulations

on the wing, is harsh and displeasing. These birds

seem of a pugnacious disposition ; for they sing with

19 25

an erected crest and attitudes of rivalry and defi-
ance ; are shy and wild in breeding-time, avoiding
neighbourhoods, and haunting lonely lanes and com-
mons ; nay, even the very tops of the Sussex downs,
where there are bushes and covert ; but in July
and August they bring their broods into gardens
and orchards, and make great havoc among the
summer fruits.

The blackcap has in common a full, sweet, deep,
loud, and wild pipe ; yet that strain is of short con-
tinuance, and his motions are desultory ; but when
that bird sits calmly and engages in song in earnest,
he pours forth very sweet, but inward melody, and
expresses great variety of soft and gentle modula-
tions, superior perhaps to those of any of our war-
blers, the nightingale excepted. Blackcaps mostly
haunt orchards and gardens ; while they warble,
their throats are wonderfully distended.

The song of the redstart is superior, though
somewhat like that of the whitethroat: some birds
have a few more notes than others. Sitting very
placidly on the top of a tall tree in a village, the
cock sings from morning till night : he affects neigh-
bourhoods, and avoids solitude, and loves to build
in orchards and about houses ; with us he perches
on the vane of a tall maypole.

The flycatcher is of all our summer birds the

most mute and the most familiar ; it also appears

the last of any. It builds in a vine, or a sweetbriar,

26

against the wall of a house, or in the hole of a wall,
or on the end of a beam or plate, and often close to
the post of a door where people are going in and out
all day long. This bird does not make the least
pretension to song, but uses a little inward wailing
note when it thinks its young in danger from cats
or other annoyances : it breeds but once, and retires
early.

Selborne parish alone can and has exhibited at
times more than half the birds that are ever seen
in all Sweden ; the former has produced more than
one hundred and twenty species, the latter only two
hundred and twenty-one. Let me add also, that it
has shown near half the species that were ever known
in Great Britain ; Sweden having two hundred and
twenty-one, Great Britain two hundred and fifty-two
species.

On a retrospect, I observe that my long letter
carries with it a quaint and magisterial air, and is
very sententious ; but when I recollect that you re-
quested stricture and anecdote, I hope you will par-
don the didactic manner for the sake of the informa-
tion it may happen to contain.
Selborne, Sept. 2, 1774.

27

LETTER LXI.

To Thomas Pennant, Esq.

It is matter of curious inquiry to trace out how
those species of soft-billed birds, that continue with
us the winter through, subsist during the dead
months. The imbecility of birds seems not to be the
only reason why they shun the rigour of our win-
ters; for the robust wryneck* (so much resembling
the hardy race of woodpeckers) migrates, while the
feeble little golden-crowned wren, that shadow of
a bird, braves our severest frosts without availing
himself of houses or villages, to which most of our
winter-birds crowd in distressful seasons, while this
keeps aloof in fields and woods ; but perhaps this
may be the reason why they may often perish,
and why they are almost as rare as any bird we
know.

I have no reason to doubt but that the soft-billed
birds, which winter with us, subsist chiefly on in-
sects in their aurelia state. All the species of wag-
tails in severe weather haunt shallow streams near
their spring heads, where they never freeze ; and, by

* " Wrynecks appear on the grass-plots and walks ; they walk a
little as well as hop, and thrust their bills into the turf, in quest, I
conclude, of ants, which are their food. While they hold their bills in
the grass, they draw out their prey with their tongues, which are so
long as to be coiled round their heads," says White in his " Obser-
vations."

28

wading, pick out the aurelias of the genus of PJiry-
ganece, &c.*

Hedge-sparrows frequent sinks and gutters in
hard weather, where they pick up crumbs and other
sweepings : and in mild weather they procure worms,
which are stirring every month in the year, as any
one may see that will only be at the trouble of taking
a candle to a grass-plot on any mild winter's night.
Redbreasts and wrens in the winter haunt out-houses,
stables, and barns, where they find spiders and flies
that have laid themselves up during the cold season.
But the grand support of the soft-billed birds in win-
ter is that infinite profusion of aurelice of the Lepidop-
tera 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 Linnsean genera
of Fringilla and Motacilla. One species alone spends
its whole time in the woods and fields, never retreat-
ing for succour, in the severest seasons, to houses
and neighbourhoods ; and that is the delicate long-
tailed titmouse, which is almost as minute as the
golden-crowned wren : but the blue titmouse, or nun
{Parus ccEruleus), the cole-mouse {Pariis ater), the great

* Derham's " Physico Theology."
29

black-headed titmouse {Parus friiigillago, now major),
and the marsh titmouse {Parus palustris), all resort,
at times, to buildings ; and in hard weather par-
ticularly. The great titmouse, driven by stress of
weather, much frequents houses, and, in deep snows,
I have seen this bird, while it hung with its back
downwards (to my no small delight and admira-
tion), draw straws lengthwise from out the eaves of
thatched houses, in order to pull out the flies that
were concealed between them, and that in such num-
bers that they quite defaced the thatch, and gave it
a ragged appearance.

The blue titmouse, or nun, is a great frequenter
of houses, and a general devourer. Besides insects,
it is very fond of flesh ; for it frequently picks bones
on dunghills : it is a vast admirer of suet, and haunts
butchers' shops. 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 will be well entertained with
the seeds on the head of a sunflower. The blue,
marsh, and great titmice will, in very severe weather,
carry away barley and oat straws from the sides of
ricks.

How the wheatear and whinchat support them-
selves in winter cannot be so easily ascertained, since
they spend their time on wild heaths and warrens ;
the former especially, where there are stone quar-
ries : most probably it is that their maintenance

30

arises from the aurelia; of the Lepidoptera ordo, which
furnish them with a plentiful table in the wilderness.

LETTER LXII.

To THE HONOURABLK DaINES BaRRINGTON.

As the swift or black martin is the largest of the
British hirundines, so is it undoubtedly the latest
comer. For 1 remember but one instance of its ap-

W^f'

Swifts.

pearing before the last week in April ; and in some
of our late frosty, harsh springs, it has not been seen
till the beginning of May. This species usually ar-
rives in pairs.

31

The swift, like the sand-martin, is very defective
in architecture, making no crust, or shell, for its
nest; but forming it of dry grasses and feathers,
very rudely and inartificially put together. With
all my attention to these birds, I have never been
able once to discover one in the act of collecting or
carrying in materials : so that I have suspected (since
their nests are exactly the same) that they sometimes
usurp upon the house-sparrows, and expel them, as
sparrows do the house and sand-martin ; well re-
membering that I have seen them squabbling to-
gether at the entrance of their holes ; and the spar-
rows up in arms, and much disconcerted at these
intruders. And yet I am assured by a nice observer
in such matters, that they do collect feathers for
their nests in Andalusia ; and that he has shot them
with such materials in their mouths.

Swifts, like sand-martins, carry on the business of
nidification quite in the dark, in crannies of castles,
and towers, and steeples, and upon the tops of the
walls of churches under the roof ; and therefore can-
not be so narrowly watched as those species that
build more openly ; but, from what I could ever
observe, they begin nesting about the middle of
May ; and I have remarked, from eggs taken, that
they have sat hard by the 9th of June. In general
they haunt tall buildings, churches, and steeples, and
breed only in such : yet in this village some pairs

frequent the lowest and meanest cottages, and edu-

32

cate their young under those thatched roofs. I re-
member but one instance where they bred out of
buildings ; and that was in the sides of a deep chalk-
pit near the town of Odiham, in this county, where
I have seen many pairs entering the crevices, and
skimming and squeaking round the precipices.

As I have regarded these amusive birds with no
small attention, if I should advance something new
and peculiar with respect to them, and different from
all other birds, I might perhaps be credited ; espe-
cially as my assertion is the result of many years'
exact observation. The fact that I would advance
is, that swifts propagate on the wing : and I would
wish any nice observer, that is startled at this sup-
position, to use his own eyes, and I think he will
soon be convinced. In another class of animals, viz.
the insect, nothing is so common as to see the differ-
ent species of many genera in conjunction as they
fly. The swift is almost continually on the wing ;
and as it never settles on the ground, on trees, or
roofs, would seldom find opportunity for amorous
rites, was it not enabled to indulge them in the air.
If any person would watch these birds of a fine
morning in May, as they are sailing round, at a great
height from the ground, he would see, every now
and then, one drop on the back of another, and both
of them sink down together for many fathoms with a
loud piercing shriek. This I take to be the juncture

when the business of generation is carrying on.

33

As the swift eats, drinks, collects materials for its
nest, and, as it seems, propagates on the wing, it ap-
pears to live more in the air than any other bird, and
to perform all functions there save those of sleeping
and incubation.

This hirimdo differs widely from its congeners in
laying invariably but two eggs at a time, which are
milk-white, long, and peaked at the small end ;
whereas the other species lay at each brood from
four to six. It is a most alert bird, rising very early
and retiring to roost very late ; and is on the wing
in the height of summer at least sixteen hours. In
the longest days it does not withdraw to rest till a
quarter before nine in the evening, being the latest
of all day birds. Just before they retire whole
groups of them assemble high in the air, and squeak,
and shoot about with wonderful rapidity. But this
bird is never so much alive as in sultry thundery
weather, when it expresses great alacrity, and calls
forth all its powers. In hot mornings, several, get-
ting together in little parties, dash round the steeples
and churches, squeaking as they go in a very clam-
orous manner : these, by nice observers, are sup-
posed to be males serenading their sitting hens ; and
not without reason, since they seldom squeak till
they come close to the walls or eaves, and since
those within utter at the same time a little inward
note of complacency.

When the hen has sat hard all day, she rushes

34

forth for a few minutes, just as it is almost dark, to
stretch and relieve her weary limbs, and snatch a
scanty meal, and then returns to her duty of incuba-
tion. Swifts, when wantonly and cruelly shot while
they have young, discover a lump of insects in their
mouths, which they pouch and hold under their
tongue. In general they feed in a much higher dis-
trict than the other species ; a proof that gnats and
other insects do also abound to a considerable height
in the air : they also range to vast distances ; since
locomotion is no labour to them, who are endowed
with such wonderful powers of wing. Their powers
seem to be in proportion to their levers ; and their
wings are longer in proportion than those of al-
most any other bird. When they mute, or ease
themselves in flight, they raise their wings, and
make them meet over their backs.

At some certain times in the summer I had re-
marked that swifts were hawking very low for hours
together over pools and streams ; and could not help
inquiring into the object of the pursuit that induced
them to descend so much below their usual range.
After some trouble I found that they were taking
phryganece, ephemercE and libellulce (caddis-flies, may-
flies, and dragon-flies) that were just emerged from
their aurelia state. I then no longer wondered that
they should be so willing to stoop for a prey that
afforded them such plentiful and succulent nourish-
ment.

35

They bring out their young about the middle
or latter end of July : but as these never become
perchers, nor, that ever I could discern, are fed on
the wing by their dams, the coming forth of the
young is not so notorious as in the other species.

On the 30th of last June I untiled the eaves of a
house where many pairs build, and found in each
nest only two squabs, naked pidli : 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 naked and helpless. From whence we
may conclude that birds whose way of life keeps
them perpetually on the wing would not be able to
quit their nest till the end of the month. Swallows
and martins, that have numerous families, are con-
tinually feeding them every two or three minutes ;
while swifts, that have but two young to maintain,
are much at their leisure, and do not attend on their
nests for hours together.

Sometimes they pursue and strike at hawks that
come in their way ; but not with that vehemence
and fury that swallows express on the same occa-
sion. They are out all day long in wet days, feed-
ing about, and disregarding still rain : from whence
two things may be gathered : first, that many insects
abide high in the air, even in rain : and next, that
the feathers of these birds must be well preened
to resist so much wet. Windy, and particularly
windy weather with heavy showers, they dislike ;

36

and on such days withdraw, and are scarce ever
seen.

Ttiere is a circumstance respecting the colour of
swifts which seems not to be unworthy of our atten-
tion. When they arrive in the spring they are all
over of a glossy, dark, soot-colour, except their
chins, which are white; but, by being all day long in
the sun and air, they become quite weather-beaten
and bleached before they depart, and yet they re-
turn glossy again in the spring. Now, if they pur-
sue the sun into lower latitudes, as some suppose, in
order to enjoy a perpetual summer, why do they
not return bleached ? Do they not rather perhaps
retire to rest for a season, and at that juncture moult
and change their feathers, since all other birds are
known to moult soon after the season of breeding ?

Swifts are very anomalous in many particulars,
dissenting from all their congeners not only in the
number of their young, but in breeding but once in
a summer; whereas all the other British hirundincs
breed invariably twice. It is past all doubt that
swifts can breed but once, since they withdraw in a
short time after the flight of their young, and some
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 hirundines twice, the latter, who lay from
four to six eggs, increase at an average five times
as fast as the former.

37

But in nothing are swifts more singular than in
their early retreat. They retire, as to the main body
of them, by the loth of August, and sometimes a
few days sooner : and every straggler invariably
withdraws by the 20th, while their congeners, all of
them, stay till the beginning of October ; many of
them all through that month, and some occasionally
to the beginning of November. This early retreat
is mysterious and wonderful, since that time is often
the sweetest season in the year. But, what is more
extraordinary, they begin to retire still earlier in the
most southerly parts of Andalusia, where they can
be no ways influenced by any defect of heat; or, as
one might suppose, defect of food. Are they regu-
lated in their motions with us by a failure of food,
or by a propensity to moulting, or by a disposition
to rest after so rapid a life, or by what ? This is one
of those incidents in natural history that not only
baffles our searches, but almost eludes our guesses !

These hiriindines never perch on trees or roofs,
and so never congregate with their congeners.
They are fearless while haunting their nesting-places,
and are not to be scared by a gun ; and are often
beaten down with poles and cudgels as they stoop to
go under the eaves. Swifts are much infested with
those pests to the genus called hippoboscce {Anaperce
hirundmis, Leach), and often wriggle and scratch
themselves, in their flight, to get rid of that cling-
ing annoyance.

38

Swifts are no songsters, and have only one harsh
screaming note ; yet there are ears to which it is
not displeasing, from an agreeable association of
ideas, since that note never occurs but in the most
lovely summer weather.

They never settle on the ground but through
accident ; and when down can hardly rise, on ac-
count of the shortness of their legs and the length
of their wings : neither can they walk, but only
crawl ; but they have a strong grasp with their
feet, by which they cling to walls. Their bodies
being flat, they can enter a very narrow crevice ;
and when they cannot pass on their bellies they will
turn up edgewise.

The particular formation of the foot discrimi-
nates the swift from all the British hirundines ; and
indeed from all other known birds, the Hiriindo
melba, or great white-bellied swift of Gibraltar, ex-
cepted ; for it is so disposed as to carry "omncs
quatuor digitos anticos " — ** all its four toes for-
ward ; " besides, the least toe, which should be the
back one, consists of one bone only, and the other
three of only two apiece: a construction most rare
and peculiar, but nicely adapted to the purposes in
which their feet are employed. This, and some
peculiarities attending the nostrils and under mandi-
ble, have induced a discerning naturalist to suppose
that this species might constitute a genus by itself.

In London a party of swifts frequent the Tower,
20 39

playing and feeding over the river just below the
bridge : others haunt some of the churches of the
Borough next the fields ; but do not venture, like
the house-martin, into the close, crowded part of
the town.

The Swedes have bestowed a very pertinent
name on this swallow, calling it " ring swala," from
the perpetual rings or circles that it takes round the
scene of its nidification.

Swifts feed on coleoptera, or small beetles with
hard cases over their wings, as well as on the softer
insects ; but it does not appear how they can pro-
cure gravel to grind their food, as swallows do,
since they never settle on the ground. Young ones,
overrun with hippoboscce, are sometimes found under
their nests, fallen to the ground ; the number of
vermin rendering their abode insupportable any
longer. They frequent in this village several abject
cottages ; yet a succession still haunts the same un-
likely roofs : a good proof this that the same birds
return to the same spots. As they must stoop very
low to get up under these humble eaves, cats lie in
wait, and sometimes catch them on the wing.

On the 5th of July, 1775, I again untiled a part

of a roof over the nest of a swift. The dam sat in

the nest ; but so strongly was she affected by her

natural (7x0/07/; for her brood, which she supposed to

be in danger, that, regardless of her own safety, she

would not stir, but lay sullenly by them, permitting

40

herself to be taken in hand. The squab young we
brought down and placed on the grass-plot, where
they tumbled about, and were as helpless as a new-
born child. While we contemplated their naked
bodies, their unwieldy disproportioned abdomina,
and their heads too heavy for their necks to support,
we could not but wonder when we reflected that
these shiftless beings in little more than a fortnight
would be able to dash through the air almost with
the inconceivable swiftness of a meteor ; and per-
haps, in their emigration, must traverse vast conti-
nents and oceans as distant as the equator. So
soon does Nature advance small birds to their
rfkiKia, or state of perfection ; while the progressive
growth of men and large quadrupeds is slow and
tedious !

Selborne, Sept. 28, 1774.

LETTER LXIII.

To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

By means of the straight cottage-chimney I had
an opportunity this summer of remarking at my
leisure how swallows ascend and descend through
the shaft; but my pleasure in contemplating the
address with which this feat is performed to a con-
siderable depth in the chimney was somewhat inter-

41

rupted by apprehensions lest my eyes might undergo
the same fate with those of Tobit.

Perhaps it may be some amusement to you to
hear at what times the different species of hirundines
arrived this spring in three very distant counties of
this kingdom. With us the swallow was seen first
on April the 4th, the swift on April the 24th, the
bank-martin on April the 12th, and the house-martin
not till April the 30th. At South Zele, Devonshire,
swallows did not arrive till April the 25th ; swifts,
in plenty, on May the ist, and house-martins not till
the middle of May. At Blackburn, in Lancashire,
swifts were seen on April the 28th, swallows April
the 29th, house-martins May the ist. Do these dif-
ferent dates in such distant districts prove anything
for or against migration?

A farmer near Weyhill fallows his land with two
teams of asses ; one of which works till noon, and
the other in the afternoon. When these animals
have done their work, they are penned all night, like
sheep, on the fallow. In the winter they are confined
and foddered in a yard, and make plenty of dung.

Linnasus says that hawks "■ make a truce with

other birds as long as the cuckoo is heard : " " pacis-

cuntur inducias cum avibus, quamdiu cuculus cucu-

lat : " but it appears to me that, during that period,

many little birds are taken and destroyed by birds

of prey, as may be seen by the feathers left in lanes

and under hedges.

42

The missel-thrush is, while breeding, fierce and
pugnacious, driving such birds as approach its nest
with great fury to a distance. The Welsh call it
*' pen y llwynn," the head or master of the coppice.
He suffers no magpie, jay, or blackbird to enter the

Magpies and their nest.

garden where he haunts ; and is, for the time, a good
guard to the new-sown legumens. In general he is
very successful in the defence of his family ; but once

43

I observed in my garden, that several magpies came
determined to storm the nest of a missel-thrush :
the dams defended their mansion with great vigour,
and fought resolutely for " their faith and for their
homes: " pro arts et focis; but numbers at last pre-
vailed, they tore the nest to pieces, and swallowed
the young alive.

[Thrushes during long droughts are of great serv-
ice in hunting out shell-snails,* which they pull in
pieces for their young, and are thereby very service-
able in gardens. Missel-thrushes do not destroy the
fruit in gardens like the other species of turdi, but
feed on the berries and mistletoe, and in the spring
on ivy-berries, which then begin to ripen. f In the
summer, when their young become fledged, they
leave neighbourhoods, and retire to sheep-walks and
wild commons. This species of thrush, though wild
at other times, delights to build near houses, and in
frequented walks and gardens.]

* Of the truth of this I have been an eye-witness, having seen the
common thrush feeding on the shell-snail. — Markwick.

f In the very early part of this spring (1797) a bird of this species
used to sit every morning on the top of some very high elms close by
my windows, and delight me with its charming song, attracted thither,
probably, by some ripe ivy-berries that grew near the place.

I have remarked something like the latter fact, for I remember
many years ago, seeing a pair of these birds fly up repeatedly and
attack some larger bird, which I supposed disturbed their nest in my
orchard, uttering at the same time violent shrieks. Since writing the
above, I have seen more than once a pair of these birds attack some
magpies that had disturbed their nest, with great violence and loud
shrieks. — Markwick.

44

In the season of nidification the wildest birds are
comparatively tame. Thus the ring-dove breeds in
my fields, though they are continually frequented ;
and the missel-thrush, though most shy and wild in
the autumn and winter, builds in my garden close
to a walk where people are passing all day long.

Wall-fruit abounds with me this year ; but my
grapes, that used to be forward and good, are at
present backward beyond all precedent: and this
is not the worst of the story ; for the same ungenial
weather, the same black cold solstice, has injured
the more necessary fruits of the earth, and dis-
coloured and blighted our wheat. The crop of hops
promises to be very large.

Frequent returns of deafness incommode me sad-
ly, and half disqualify me as a naturalist ; for, when
those fits are upon me, I lose all the pleasing notices
and little intimations arising from rural sounds ; and
May is to me as silent and mute with respect to the
notes of birds, etc., as August. My eyesight is,
thank God, quick and good ; but with respect to
the other sense, 1 am, at times, disabled:

"And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out."
Selborne, Sept. 13, 1774.

45

LETTER LXIV.
To Thomas Pennant, Esq.

Some future faunist, a man of fortune, will, I
hope, extend his visits to the kingdom of Ireland ; a
new field, and a country little known to the natural-
ist. He will not, it is to be wished, undertake that
tour unaccompanied by a botanist, because the
mountains have scarcely been sufficiently examined ;
and the southerly counties of so mild an island may
possibly afford some plants little to be expected
within the British dominions. A person of a think-
ing turn of mind will draw many just remarks from
the modern improvements of that country, both in
arts and agriculture, where premiums obtained, long
before they were heard of with us. The manners of
the wild natives, their superstitions, their prejudices,
their sordid way of life, will extort from him many
useful reflections. He should also take with him an
able draughtsman ; for he must by no means pass
over the noble castles and seats, the extensive and
picturesque lakes and waterfalls, and the lofty stu-
pendous mountains, so little known, and so engaging
to the imagination when described and exhibited in
a lively manner : such a work would be well re-
ceived.

As I have seen no modern map of Scotland, I

cannot pretend to say how accurate or particular

46

any such may be ; but this I know, that the best old
maps of that kingdom are very defective. The great
obvious defect that I have remarked in all maps of
Scotland that have fallen in my way is the want of
a coloured line or stroke that shall exactly define
the just limits of that district called the Highlands.
Moreover, all the great avenues to that mountain-
ous and romantic country want to be well distin-
guished. The military roads formed by General
Wade are so great and Roman-like an undertaking
that they will merit attention. My old map, Moll's
map, takes notice of Fort William ; but could not
mention the other forts that have been erected long
since : therefore a good representation of the chain
of forts should not be omitted.

The celebrated zigzag up the Coryarich must
not be passed over. Moll takes notice of Hamilton
and Drumlanrig, and such capital houses ; but the
new survey, no doubt, should represent every seat
and castle remarkable for any great event, or cele-
brated for its paintings, &c. Lord Breadalbane's
seat and beautiful policy are too curious and ex-
traordinary to be omitted.

The seat of the Earl of Eglintoun, near Glasgow,
is worthy of notice. The pine-plantations of that
nobleman are very grand and extensive indeed.

Selborne, March 9, 1775.

47

LETTER LXV.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

On September the 21st, 1741, being then on a
visit, and intent on field-diversions, I rose before day-
break : when I came into the inclosures, I found the
stubbles and clover-grounds matted all over with a
thick coat of cobweb, in the meshes of which a copi-
ous and heavy dew hung so plentifully that the whole
face of the country seemed, as it were, covered with
two or three setting-nets drawn one over another.
When the dogs attempted to hunt, their eyes were
so blinded and hoodwinked that they could not pro-
ceed, but were obliged to lie down and scrape the
incumbrances from their faces with their fore-feet,
so that, finding my sport interrupted, I returned
home, musing in my mind on the oddness of the
occurrence.

As the morning advanced the sun became bright
and warm, and the day turned out one of those most
lovely ones w^hich no season but the autumn pro-
duces, cloudless, calm, serene, and worthy of the
South of France itself.

About nine an appearance very unusual began to
demand our attention, a shower of cobwebs falling
from very elevated regions, and continuing, without
any interruption, till the close of the day. These
webs were not single filmy threads, floating in the

48

air in all directions, but perfect flakes or rags ; some
near an inch broad, and five or six long, which fell
with a degree of velocity that showed they were
considerably heavier than the atmosphere.

On every side, as the observer turned his eyes,
might he behold a continual succession of fresh
flakes falling into his sight, and twinkling like stars
as they turned their sides towards the sun.

How far this wonderful shower extended it
would be difficult to say ; but we know that it
reached Bradley, Selborne, and Alresford, three
places which lie in a sort of triangle, the shortest of
whose sides is about eight miles in extent.

At the second of those places there was a gen-
tleman (for whose veracity and intelligent turn we
have the greatest veneration) who observed it the
moment he got abroad ; but concluded that, as soon
as he came upon the hill above his house, where he
took his morning rides, he should be higher than
this meteor, which he imagined might have been
blown, like thistledown, from the common above ;
but, to his great astonishment, when he rode to the
most elevated part of the down, 300 feet above his
fields, he found the webs in appearance still as much
above him as before ; still descending into sight in a
constant succession, and twinkling in the sun, so as
to draw the attention of the most incurious.

Neither before nor after was any such fall ob-
served ; but on this day the flakes hung in the trees

49

and hedges so thick, that a diligent person sent out
might have gathered baskets full.

The remark that I shall make on these cobweb-
like appearances, called gossamer, is, that, strange
and superstitious as the notions about them were for-
merly, nobody in these days doubts but that they
are the real production of small spiders, which
swarm in the fields in fine weather in autumn, and
have a power of shooting out webs from their tails
so as to render themselves buoyant, and lighter than
air. But why these apterous insects should that day
take such a wonderful aerial excursion, and why
their webs should at once become so gross and ma-
terial as to be considerably more weighty than air,
and to descend with precipitation, is a matter be-
yond my skill. If I might be allowed to hazard
a supposition, I should imagine that those filmy
threads, when first shot, might be entangled in the
rising dew, and so drawn up, spiders and all, by a
brisk evaporation, into the regions where clouds are
formed : and if the spiders have a power of coiling
and thickening their webs in the air, as Dr. Lister
says they have, then, when they were become heavier
than the air, they must fall.*

* One day when the air was full of such gossamers, Dr. Listers relates
that he mounted to the highest part of York Cathedral and found the
gossamer webs still far above him.

" Its sone some wonder at the cuuse of thunder.
On ebbe and flode, on gossamer and mist,
And on all things till that the cause is wist." — Chaucer.
5Q

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 par-
lour ; and, running to the top of the page, and shoot-
ing out a web, took its departure from thence. But
what I most wondered at was, that it went off with
considerable velocity in a place where no air was
stirring ; and I am sure that I did not assist it with
my breath. So that these little crawlers seem to
have, while mounting, some locomotive power with-
out the use of wings, and so move in the air faster
than the air itself.

Selborne, y^m^ 8, 1775.

LETTER LXVI.

To THE FIONOURABLE DaINES BaRRINGTON.

There is a wonderful spirit of sociality in the
brute creation, independent of sexual attachment.
Of this the congregation of gregarious birds in the
winter is a remarkable instance.

Many horses, though quiet with company, will
not stay one minute in a field by themselves : the
strongest fences cannot restrain them. My neigh-
bour's horse will not only not stay by himself abroad,

51

but he will not bear to be left alone in a strange
stable without discovering the utmost impatience,
and endeavouring to break the rack and manger with
his fore-feet. He has been known to leap out at
a stable-window, through which dung was thrown,
after company ; and yet in other respects is remark-
ably quiet. Oxen and cows will not fatten by them-
selves : but will neglect the finest pasture that is not
recommended by society. It would be needless to
add instances in sheep, which constantly flock to-
gether.

But this propensity seems not to be confined to
animals of the same species ; for we know a doe, still
alive, that was brought up from a little fawn with a
dairy of cows ; with them it goes a-field, and with
them it returns to the yard. The dogs of the house
take no notice of this deer, being used to her ; but,
if strange dogs come by, a chase ensues ; while the
master smiles to see his favourite securely leading
her pursuers over hedge, or gate, or stile, till she
returns to the cows, who, with fierce lowings and
menacing horns, drive the assailants quite out of the
pasture.

Even great disparity of kind and size does not
always prevent social advances and mutual fellow-
ship. For a very intelligent and observant person
has assured me that, in the former part of his life,
keeping but one horse, he happened also on a time
to have but one solitary hen. These two incongru-

52

ous animals spent much of their time together in a
lonely orchard, where they saw no creature but each
other. By degrees an apparent regard began to
take place between these two sequestered individu-
als. The fowl would approach the quadruped with
notes of complacency, rubbing herself gently against
his legs: while the horse would look down with
satisfaction, and move with the greatest caution and
circumspection, lest he should trample on his diminu-
tive companion. Thus by mutual good offices, each
seemed to console the vacant hours of the other :
so that Milton, when he puts the following senti-
ment in the mouth of Adam, seems to be somewhat
mistaken : —

" Much less can bird with beast, or fish with fowl,
So well converse, nor with the ox the ape."

Selborne, Aug. 15, 1775.

LETTER LXVII.

To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

We have two gangs or hordes of gypsies which
infest the south and west of England, and come
round in their circuit two or three times in the year.
One of these tribes calls itself by the noble name of
Stanley, of which 1 have nothing particular to say ;
but the other is distinguished by an appellative

53

somewhat remarkable — as far as their harsh gibber-
ish can be understood, they seem to say that the

Gypsies in front of " The IVakesT

name of their clan is Curleople. Now the termina-
tion of this wQrd is apparently Grecian : and as Me-
zeray and the gravest historians all agree that these
vagrants did certainly migrate from Egypt and the
East, two or three centuries ago, and so spread by
degrees over Europe, may not this family name, a
little corrupted, be the very name they brought
with them from the Levant? It would be matter
of some curiosity, could one meet with an intelligent

54

person among them, to inquire whether, in their
jargon, they still retain any Greek words : the
Greek radicals will appear in hand, foot, head,
water, earth, &c. It is possible that amidst their
cant and corrupted dialect many mutilated re-
mains of their native language might still be dis-
covered.

With regard to those peculiar people, the gyp-
sies, one thing is very remarkable, and especially as
they came from warmer climates ; and that is, that
while other beggars lodge in barns, stables, and cow-
houses, these sturdy savages seem to pride them-
selves in braving the severities of winter, and in
living in the open air the whole year round. Last
September was as wet a month as ever was known ;
and yet during those deluges did a young gypsy-
girl lie-in in the midst of one of our hop-gardens, on
the cold ground, with nothing over her but a piece
of blanket extended on a few hazel-rods bent hoop-
fashion, and stuck into the earth at each end, in cir-
cumstances too trying for a cow in the same con-
dition : yet within this garden there was a large
hop-kiln, into the chambers of which she might have
retired had she thought shelter an object worthy
her attention.

Europe, itself, it seems, cannot set bounds to the
rovings of these vagabonds ; for Mr. Bell, in his re-
turn from Pekin, met a gang of these people on

the confines of Tartary, who were endeavouring to
21 55

penetrate those deserts and try their fortune in
China*

Gypsies are called in French, Bohemians; in
Italian and modern Greek, Zingari.
Selborne, Oct. 2, 1775.

LETTER LXVIII.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

•* Hie - - - - tiiedae pingues, hie plurimus ignis

Semper, et assidua postes fuligine nigri."

(ViRG. Eel. vii. 49, 50.)
" Here are fat torches, here abundant fire,

Here constant smoke has black'd each side the door."

I SHALL make no apology for troubling you with
the detail of a very simple piece of domestic econ-
omy, being satisfied that you think noth-
ing beneath your attention that tends
to utility : the matter alluded to is the
use of rushes instead of candles,
which I am well aware prevails
in many districts besides this ;
but as I know there are countries
also where it does not obtain, and as
I have considered the subject with
A rush-light. some degree of exactness, I shall pro-

* See Bell's " Travels in China."
56

ceed with my humble story, and leave you to judge
of the expediency.

The proper species of rush for this purpose seems
to be Xht /uncus conglomeratus, or common soft rush,
which is to be found in most moist pastures, by the
sides of streams, and under hedges. These rushes
are in best condition in the height of summer ; but
may be gathered, so as to serve the purpose well,
quite on to autumn. It would be needless to add
that the largest and longest are best. Decayed la-
bourers, women, and children, make it their business
to procure and prepare them. As soon as they are
cut they must be flung into the water, and kept
there ; for otherwise they will dry and shrink, and
the peel will not run. At first a person would find
it no easy matter to divest a rush of its peel or
rind, so as to leave one regular, narrow, even rib
from top to bottom that may support the pith : but
this, like other feats, soon becomes familiar even to
children ; and we have seen an old woman, stone-
blind, performing this business with great despatch,
and seldom failing to strip them with the nicest reg-
ularity. When these 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

57

industrious Hampshire labourer obtains all her fat
for nothing; for she saves the scummings of her
bacon-pot for this use ; and, if the grease abounds
with salt, she causes the salt to precipitate to the
bottom, by setting the scummings in a warm oven.
Where hogs are not much in use, and especially by
the sea-side, the coarser animal oils will come very
cheap. A pound of common grease may be pro-
cured for fourpence ; and about six pounds of grease
will dip a pound of rushes ; and one pound of rushes
may be bought for one shilling ; so that a pound of
rushes, medicated and ready for use, will cost three
shillings. If men that keep bees will mix a little wax
with the grease, it will give it a consistency, and
render it more cleanly, and make the rushes burn
longer; mutton-suet will have the same effect.

A good rush, which measured in length two feet
four inches and a half, being minuted, burnt only
three minutes short of an hour : and a rush still of
greater length has been known to burn one hour and
a quarter.

These rushes give a good clear light. Watch-
lights (coated with tallow), it is true, shed a dismal
one, '' darkness visible ; " but then the wicks of those
have two ribs of the rind, or peel, to support the
pith, while the wick of the dipped rush has but one.
The two ribs are intended to impede the progress
of the flame and make the candle last.

In a pound of dry rushes, avoirdupois, which I
58

caused to be weighed and numbered, we found up-
wards of one thousand six hundred individuals.
Now suppose each of these burns, one with another,
only half an hour, then a poor man will purchase
eight hundred hours of light, a time exceeding
thirty-three entire days, for three shillings. Accord-
ing to this account each rush, before dipping, costs
■g^ of a farthing, and -^ afterwards. Thus a poor
family will enjoy five and a half hours of comfort-
able light for a farthing. An experienced old house-
keeper assures me that one pound and a halt of
rushes completely supplies his family the year
round, since working people burn no candle in the
long days, because they rise and go to bed by day-
light.

Little farmers use rushes much, in the short days,
both morning and evening, in the dairy and kitchen ;
but the very poor, who are always the worst econo-
mists, and therefore must continue very poor, buy
a halfpenny candle ever^^ evening, which, in their
blowing open rooms, does not burn much more than
two hours. Thus have they only two hours' light
for their money instead of eleven.

While on the subject of rural economy, it may
not be improper to mention a pretty implement of
housewifery that I have seen nowhere else ; that is,
little neat besoms which our foresters make from
the stalk of the Polytricum commune, or great golden
maiden-hair, which they call silk-wood, and find

59

plenty in the bogs. When this moss is well combed
and dressed, and divested of its outer skin, it be-
comes of a beautiful bright chestnut colour ; and,
being soft and pliant, is very proper for the dusting
of beds, curtains, carpets, hangings, &c. if these
besoms were known to the brushmakers in town, it
is probable they might come much more into use
for the purpose above mentioned.*

Selborne, Nov. i, 1776.

LETTER LXIX.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

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 facul-
ties on this one pursuit. In the winter he dozed
away his time, within his father's house, by the fire-
side, in a kind of torpid state, seldom departing from
the chimney-corner; but in the summer he was all
alert, and in quest of his game in the fields, and on
sunny banks. Honey-bees, humble-bees, and wasps,

* A besom of this sort is to be seen in Sir Ashton Lever's Museum.

60

were his prey wherever he found them : he had
no apprehensions from their stings, but he would

Catching bees.

seize them nudis manibus, and at once disarm them
of their weapons, and suck their bodies for the sake
of their honey-bag's. 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

6i

has been known to overturn hives for the sake of
honey, of which he was passionately fond. Where
metheglin was making he would linger round the
tubs and vessels, begging a draught of what he
called bee-wine. As he ran about he used to make a
humming noise with his lips, resembling the buzzing
of bees. This lad was lean and sallow, and of a
cadaverous complexion ; and, except in his favourite
pursuit, in which he was wonderfully adroit, dis-
covered no manner of understanding. Had his ca-
pacity been better, and directed to the same object,
he had perhaps abated much of our wonder at the
feats of a more modern exhibiter of bees ; and we
may justly say of him now, —

" — — — — — — — — Thou,

Had thy presiding star propitious shone,
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.

Selborne, Dec. 12, 1775.

LETTER LXX.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

It is the hardest thing in the world to shake off

superstitious prejudices ; they are sucked in, as it

62

were, with our mother's milk ; and, growing- up with
us at a time when they take the fastest hold and
make the most lasting impressions, become so inter-
woven into our very constitutions, that the strongest
good sense is required to disengage ourselves from
them. No wonder, therefore, that the lower people
retain them their whole lives through, since their
minds are not invigorated by a liberal education, and
therefore not enabled to make any efforts adequate
to the occasion.

Such a preamble seems to be necessary before
we enter on the superstitions of this district, lest
we should be suspected of exaggeration in a recital
of practices too gross for this enlightened age.

But the people of Tring, in Hertfordshire, would
do well to remember, that no longer ago than the
year 175 1, and within twenty miles of the capital,
they seized on two superannuated wretches, crazed
with age, and overwhelmed with infirmities, on a
suspicion of witchcraft ; and, by trying experiments,
drowned them in a horse-pond.

In a farm-yard near the middle of this village
stands, at this day, a row of pollard-ashes, which, by
the seams and long cicatrices down their sides,
manifestly show that, in former times, they have
been cleft asunder. These trees, when young and
flexible, were severed and held open by wedges,
while ruptured children, stripped naked, were
pushed through the apertures, under a persuasion

63

that, by such a process, the poor babes would be
cured of their infirmity. As soon as the operation
was over, the tree, in the suffering part, was plas-
tered with loam, and carefully swathed up. If the
parts coalesced and soldered together, as usually
fell out where the feat was performed with any
adroitness at all, the party was cured ; but where
the pleft continued to gape, the operation, it was
supposed, would prove ineffectual. Having occa-
sion to enlarge my garden not long since, 1 cut
down two or three such trees, one of which did not
grow^ together.

We have several persons now living in the vil-
lage, who, in their childhood, were supposed to be
healed by this superstitious ceremony, derived down
perhaps from our Saxon ancestors, who practised it
before their conversion to Christianity.

At the south corner of the Plestor, or area, near
the church, there stood, about twenty years ago, a
very old grotesque hollow pollard-ash, which for
asfes had been looked on with no small veneration
as a shrew-ash. Now a shrew-ash is an ash whose
twigs or branches, when gently applied to the limbs
of cattle, will immediately relieve the pains which a
beast suffers from the running of a shrew-mouse over
the part affected ; for it is supposed that a shrew-
mouse is of so baneful and deleterious a nature, that
wherever it creeps over a beast, be it horse, cow, or

sheep, the suffering animal is afflicted with cruel

64

anguish, and threatened with the loss of the use of
the limb. Against this accident, to which they are
continually liable, our provident forefathers always
kept a shrew-ash at hand, which, when once medi-
cated, would maintain its virtue forever. A shrew-
ash was made thus : * — Into the body of the tree a
deep hole was bored with an auger, and a poor de-
voted shrew-mouse was thrust in alive, and plugged
in, no doubt, with several quaint incantations long
since forgotten. As the ceremonies necessary for
such a consecration are no longer understood, all
succession is at an end, and no such tree is known
to subsist in the manor, or hundred.
As to that on the Plestor, for

" The late vicar stubb'd and burnt it,"

when he was way-warden, regardless of the remon-
strances of the bystanders, who interceded in vain
for its preservation, urging its power and efficacy,
and alleging that it had been ''guarded through
many years by the piety of our ancestors ; "

" Religione patrum multos servata per annes."
Selborne, y^w. 8, 1776.

* For a similar practice, White refers us to Plot's " Staffordshire."

65

LETTER LXXI.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

In heavy fogs, on elevated situations especially,
trees are perfect alembics : and no one that has not
attended to such matters can imagine how much
water one tree will distil in a night's time, by con-
densing the vapour which trickles down the twigs
and boughs, so as to make the ground below quite
in a float. In Newton-lane, in October, 1775, on a
misty day, a particular oak in leaf dropped so fast
that the cartway stood in puddles and the ruts ran
with water, though the ground in general was dusty.

In some of our smaller islands in the West Indies,
if I mistake not, there are no springs or rivers ; but
the people are supplied with that necessary element,
water, merely by the dripping of some large tall
trees, which, standing in the bosom of a mountain,
keep their heads constantly enveloped with fogs and
clouds, from which they dispense their kindly, never-
ceasing moisture ; and so render those districts hab-
itable by condensation alone.

Trees in leaf have such a vast proportion more of
surface than those that are naked, that, in theory,
their condensations should greatly exceed those that
are stripped of their leaves ; but, as the former im-
bibe also a great quantity of moisture, it is difficult

to say which drip most: but this I know, that de-

66

ciduous trees that are entwined with much ivy
seem to distil the greatest quantity. Ivy leaves are
smooth, and thick, and cold, and therefore condense
very fast ; and besides, evergreens imbibe very little.
These facts may furnish the intelligent with hints
concerning what sorts of trees they should plant
round small ponds that they would wish to be per-
ennial ; and show them how advantageous some
trees are in preference to others.

Trees perspire profusely, condense largely, and
check evaporation so much, that woods are always
moist: no wonder therefore that they contribute
much to pools and streams.

That trees are great promoters of lakes and
rivers appears from a well known fact in North
America ; for, since the woods and forests have
been grubbed and cleared, all bodies of water are
much diminished ; so that some streams, that were
very considerable a century ago, will not now drive
a common mill."^ Besides, most woodlands, forests,
and chases, with us abound with pools and mo-
rasses ; no doubt for the reason given above.

To a thinking mind few phenomena are more
strange than the state of little ponds on the sum-
mits of chalk-hills, many of which are never dry in
the most trying droughts of summer. On chalk-
hills, I say, because in many rocky and gravelly soils

* Vide Kalm's " Travels in North America."
67

springs usually break out pretty high on the sides
of elevated grounds and mountains ; but no person
acquainted with chalky districts will allow that they
ever saw springs in such a soil, but only in valleys
and bottoms, since the waters of so pervious a
stratum as chalk all lie on one dead level, as well-
diggers have assured me again and again.

Now we have many such little round ponds in
this district ; and one in particular on our sheep-
down, three hundred feet above my house; which,
though never above three feet deep in the middle,
and not more than thirty feet in diameter, and con-
taining perhaps not more than two or three hundred
hogsheads of water, yet never is it known to fail,
though it affords drink for three hundred or four
hundred sheep, and for at least twenty head of large
cattle beside. This pond, it is true, is overhung
with two moderate-sized beeches, that doubtless at
times afford it much suppl}^ ; but then we have
others as small, that, without the aid of trees, and in
spite of evaporation from sun and wind, and per-
petual consumption by cattle, yet constantly main-
tain a moderate share of water, without overflowing
in the wettest seasons, as they would do if supplied
by springs. By my journal of May, 1775, it appears
that " the small and even considerable ponds in the
vales are now dried up, while the small ponds on the
very tops of hills are but little affected." Can this
difference be accounted for from evaporation alone,

68

which certainly is more prevalent in bottoms? or
rather, have not those elevated pools some unnoticed
recruits, which in the night time counterbalance the
waste of the day, without which the cattle alone
must soon exhaust them ? And here it will be neces-
sary to enter more minutely into the cause. Dr.
Hales, in his Vegetable Statics, advances, from ex-
periment, that " the moister the earth is the more
dew falls on it in a night : and more than a double
quantity of dew falls on a surface of water than there
does on an equal surface of moist earth." Hence we
see that water, by its coolness, is enabled to assimi-
late to itself a large quantity of moisture nightly by
condensation ; and that the air, when loaded with
fogs and vapours, and even with copious dews, can
alone advance a considerable and never-failing re-
source. Persons that are much abroad, and travel
early and late, such as shepherds, fishermen, &c., can
tell what prodigious fogs prevail in the night on
elevated downs, even in the hottest parts of summer;
and how much the surfaces of things are drenched
by those swimming vapours, though, to the senses,
all the while, little moisture seems to fall.

Selborne, Feb. 7, 1776.

22

69

LETTER LXXII.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

Monsieur Herissant, a French anatomist, seems
persuaded that he has discovered the reason why
cuckoos do not hatch their own eggs; the impedi-
ment, he supposes, arises from the internal structure
of their parts, which incapacitates them for incuba-
tion. According to this gentleman, the crop or craw
of a cuckoo does not lie before the sternum at the
bottom of the neck, as in the poultry, gallince, and
pigeons, columbce, &c., but immediately behind it, on
and over the bowels, so as to make a large protuber-
ance in the belly.*

Induced by this assertion, we procured a cuckoo;
and, cutting open the breast bone, and exposing the
intestines to sight, found the crop lying as men-
tioned above. This stomach was large and round,
and stuffed hard like a pincushion with food, which,
upon nice examination, we found to consist of various
insects ; such as small scarabs, spiders, and dragon-
flies ; the last of which we have seen cuckoos catch-
ing on the wing as they were just emerging out of
the aurelia state. Among this farrago also were to
be seen maggots, and many seeds, which belonged
either to gooseberries, currants, cranberries, or some

* Histoire de rAcad^mie Royale, 1752.
70

such fruit ; so that these birds apparently subsist on
insects and fruits : nor was there the least appear-
ance of bones, feathers, or fur to support the idle
notion of their being birds of prey.

The sternum in this bird seemed to us to be re-
markably short, between which and the anus lay the
crop, or craw, and immediately behind that the bow-
els against the back-bone.

It must be allowed, as this anatomist observes,
that the crop placed just upon the bowels must,
especially when full, be in a very uneasy situation
during the business of incubation ; yet the test will
be to examine whether birds that are actually known
to sit for certain are not formed in a similar man-
ner. This inquiry I proposed to myself to make with
a fern-owl, or goat-sucker, as soon as opportunity
offered : because, if their formation proves the same,
the reason for incapacity in the cuckoo will be
allowed to have been taken up somewhat hastily.

Not long after a fern-owl was procured, which,
from its habit and shape, we suspected might resem-
ble the cuckoo in its internal construction. Nor
were our suspicions ill-grounded ; for upon dissec-
tion, the crop, or craw, also lay behind the sternum,
immediately on the viscera, between them and the
skin of the belly. It was bulky, and stuffed hard
with large phalcence, moths of several sorts, and their
eggs, which no doubt had been forced out of those
insects by the action of swallowing.

71

Now as it appears that this bird, which is so well
known to practise incubation, is formed in a similar
manner with cuckoos, Monsieur Herissant's conjec-
ture, that cuckoos are incapable of incubation from
the disposition of their intestines, seems to fall to
the ground : and we are still at a loss for the cause
of that strange and singular peculiarity in the in-
stance of the Cuciilus 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 graniv-
orous.

Selborne, April i, 1776.

LETTER LXXIII.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

On August the 4th, 1775, we surprised a large
viper, which Seemed very heavy and bloated, as it
lay in the grass basking in the sun. When we came
to cut it up, we found that the abdomen was crowded
with young, fifteen in number ; the shortest of which
measured full seven inches, and were about the size
of full-grown earthworms. This little fry issued into
the world with the true viper spirit about them,

showing great alertness as soon as disengaged from

72

the belly of the dam : they twisted and wriggled
about, and set themselves up, and gaped very wide
when touched with a stick, showing manifest tokens
of menace and defiance, though as yet they had no
manner of fangs that we could find, even with the
help of our glasses.

To a thinking mind nothing is more wonderful
than that early instinct which impresses young ani-
mals with the notion of the situation of their natural
weapons, and of using them properly in their own
defence, even before those weapons subsist or are
formed. Thus a young cock will spar at his adver-
sary before his spurs are grown ; and a calf or a
lamb will push with their heads before their horns
are sprouted. In the same manner did these young
adders attempt to bite before their fangs were in
being. The dam, however, was furnished with very
formidable ones, which we lifted up (for they fold
down when not used), and cut them off with the
point of our scissors.

There was little room to suppose that this brood
had ever been in the open air before ; and that they
were taken in for refuge, at the mouth of the dam,
when she perceived that danger was approaching ;
because then probably we should have found them
somewhere in the neck, and not in the abdomen.
Selborne, Apiil 29, 1776.

73

LETTER LXXIV.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

Castration has a strange effect ; it emasculates
both man, beast, and bird, and brings them to a near
resemblance of the other sex. Thus eunuchs have
smooth, unmuscular arms, thighs, and legs ; and
broad lips, and beardless chins, and squeaking voices.
Gelt stags and bucks have hornless heads, like hinds
and does. Thus wethers have small horns, like ewes ;
and oxen large bent horns, and hoarse voices when
they low, like cows : for bulls have short straight
horns ; and though they mutter and grumble in a
deep tremendous tone, yet they low in a shrill high
key. Capons have small combs and gills, and look
pallid about the head, like pullets ; they also walk
without any parade, and hover over chickens like
hens.* Barrow-hogs have also small tusks like sows.

Thus far it is plain that the deprivation of mascu-
line vigour puts a stop to the growth of those parts
or appendages that are looked upon as its insignia.
But the ingenious Mr. Lisle, in his book on hus-
bandry, carries it much farther ; for he says that the
loss of those insignia alone has sometimes a strange
effect on the ability itself; he had a boar so fierce

* Reaumur, Mr. Rennie tells us, trained capons to nurse the chickens
he hatched by artificial heat. They clucked like hens and proved good
nurses.

74

and venereous, that to prevent mischief, orders were
given for his tusks to be broken off. No sooner had
the beast suffered this injury than his powers forsook
him, and he neglected those females to whom before
he was passionately attached, and from whom no
fences could restrain him.

LETTER LXXV.

To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

The natural term of a hog's life is little known,
and the reason is plain — because it is neither profit-
able nor convenient to keep that turbulent animal
to the full extent of its time : however, my neigh-
bour, a man of substance, who had no occasion to
study every little advantage to a nicety, kept a half-
bred Bantam sow, who was as thick as she was long,
and whose belly swept on the ground, till she was
advanced to her seventeenth year, at which period
she showed some tokens of age by the decay of her
teeth and the decline of her fertility.

For about ten years this prolific mother produced
two litters in the year of about ten at a time, and
once above twenty at a litter ; but as there were
near double the number of pigs to that of teats,
many died. From long experience in the world this
female was grown very sagacious and artful ; — when

75

she found occasion to converse with a boar she used
to open all the intervening gates, and march, by her-
self, up to a distant farm where one was kept ; and
when her purpose was served would return by the
same means. At the age of about fifteen her litters
began to be reduced to four or five ; and such a litter
she exhibited when in her fatting-pen. She proved,
when fat, good bacon, juicy, and tender ; the rind, or
sward, was remarkably thin. At a moderate com-
putation she was allowed to have been the fruitful
parent of three hundred pigs ; a prodigious instance
of fecundity in so large a quadruped ! She was
killed in spring 1775.

LETTER LXXVI.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

" — — — — — — admorunt ubera tigres."

" By tigers suckled."

We have remarked in a former letter how much
incongruous animals, in a lonely state, may be at-
tached to each other from a spirit of sociality ; in
this it may not be amiss to recount a different mo-
tive which has been known to create as strange a
fondness.

My friend had a little helpless leveret brought to
him, which the servants fed with milk in a spoon,

76

and about the same time his cat kittened and the
young were despatched and buried. The hare was
soon lost, and supposed to be gone the way of most
fondlings, to be killed by some dog or cat. How-
ever, in about a fortnight, as the master was sitting
in his garden in the dusk of the evening, he observed
his cat, with tail erect, trotting towards him, and
calling with little short inward notes of complacency,
such as they use towards their kittens, and some-
thing gamboling after, which proved to be the lev-
eret that the cat had supported with her milk, and
continued to support with great affection.

Thus was a graminivorous animal nurtured by a
carnivorous and predaceous one !

Why so cruel and sanguinary a beast as a cat, of
the ferocious genus of Feles, the Murium ieo, as Lin-
naeus calls it, should be affected with any tenderness
towards an animal which is its natural prey, is not so
easy to determine.

This strange affection probably was occasioned
by that desiderium, those tender maternal feelings,
which the loss of her kittens had awakened in her
breast; and by the complacency and ease she de-
rived to herself from the procuring her teats to be
drawn, which were too much distended with milk,
till, from habit, she became as much delighted with
this fondling as if it had been her real offspring.

This incident is no bad solution of that strange
circumstance which grave historians as well as the

77

poets assert, of exposed children being sometimes
nurtured by female wild beasts that probably had
lost their young. For it is not one whit more mar-
vellous that Romulus and Remus, in their infant
state, should be nursed by a she-wolf, than that a
poor little suckling leveret should be fostered and
cherished by a bloody grimalkin.

" — — — — viridi foetam Mavortis in antro
Procubuisse lupam : geminos huic ubera circum
Ludere pendentes pueros, et lambere matrem
Impavidos ; illam tereti cervice reflexam
Mulcere alternos, et corpora fingere lingu^,"

(ViRG. u^En. viii. 630-634.)

Or, as Christopher Pitt renders the Roman poet : —

"Here in a verdant cave's embowering shade,
The fostering wolf and martial twins were laid ;
The indulgent mother, half reclined along,
Look'd fondly back, and formed them with her tongue."

[Again a bo}^ has taken three little squirrels in
their nest, or drey, as it is called in these parts.
These small creatures he put under the care of a cat
who had lately lost her kittens, and finds that she
nurses and suckles them with the same assiduity and
affection as if they were her own offspring.

So many people went to see the little squirrels
suckled by a cat, that the foster-mother became jeal-
ous of her charge, and in pain for their safety ; and
therefore hid them over the ceiling, where one died.
This circumstance shows her affection for these fond-

78

lings, and that she supposes the squirrels to be her
own young. Thus hens, when they have hatched
ducklings, are equally attached to them, as if they
were their own chickens.] — Observations on Na-
ture.

Selborne. May 9, 1776.

LETTER LXXVII.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

Lands that are subject to frequent inundations
are always poor ; and probably the reason may be
because the worms are drowned. The most insig-
nificant insects and reptiles are of much more conse-
quence, and have much more influence in the econ-
omy of Nature, than the incurious are aware of; and
are mighty in their effect, from their minuteness,
which renders them less an object of attention ; and
from their numbers and fecundity. 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 sa}^ nothing of half the
birds, and some quadrupeds which are almost en-
tirely supported by them, worms seem to be great
promoters of vegetation, which would proceed but
lamely without them ; by boring, perforating, and
loosening the soil, and rendering it pervious to rains

79

and the fibres of plants ; by drawing straws and
stalks of leaves and twigs into it ; and, most of all, by
throwing up such infinite numbers of lumps of earth
called worm-casts, which, being their excrement, is a
fine manure for grain and grass. Worms probably
provide new soil for hills, and slopes, where the rain
washes the earth away ; and they affect slopes, prob-
ably to avoid being flooded. Gardeners and farmers
express their detestation of worms ; the former be-
cause they render their walks unsightly, and make
them much work: and the latter, because, as they
think, worms eat their green corn. But these men
would find that the earth without worms would soon
become cold, hard-bound, and void of fermentation ;
and consequently sterile : and besides, in favour of
worms, it should be hinted that green corn, plants,
and flowers are not so much injured by them as by
many species of coleoptera (scarabs) and tipulce (long-
legs) in their larva, or grub-state ; and by unnoticed
myriads of small shell-less snails, called slugs, which
silently and imperceptibly make amazing havoc in
the field and garden.

Farmer Young, of Norton farm, says that this
spring (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 it sprang.

These hints we think proper to throw out in

order to set the inquisitive and discerning to work.

A good monography of worms would afford
80

A walk in the vicar's garden.

much entertainment and information at the same
time, and would open a large and new field in
natural history. Worms work most in the spring ;
but by no means lie torpid in the dead months ;
they are out every mild night in the winter, as any
person may satisfy himself. They are hermaphro-
dites, and are, consequently, very prolific.
Selborne, May 20, 1777.

LETTER LXXVIII.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

You cannot but remember that the 26th and 27th
of last March were very hot days ; so sultry that
everybody complained, and were restless under
those sensations to w^hich they had not been recon-
ciled by gradual approaches.

This sudden summer-like heat was attended by

many summer coincidences; for on those two days

the thermometer rose to sixty-six in the shade ;

many species of insects revived and came forth ;

some bees swarmed in this neighbourhood ; the old

tortoise, near Lewes in Sussex, awakened and came

forth out of its dormitory ; and, what is most to

my present purpose, many house-swallows appeared,

and were very alert in many places, and particularly

at Cobham, in Surrey.

81

But as that short warm period was succeeded as
well as preceded by harsh severe weather, with
frequent frosts and ice, and cutting winds, the in-
sects withdrew, the tortoise returned again into the
ground, and the swallows were seen no more until
the loth of April, when the rigour of the spring
abating, a softer season began to prevail.

Again, it appears by my journals for many years
past, that house-martins retire, to a bird, about the
beginning of October ; so that a person very observ-
ant of such matters would conclude that they had
taken their last farewell : but then, it may be seen in
my diaries also that considerable flocks have dis-
covered themselves again in the first week of No-
vember, and often on the fourth day of that month
only for one day ; and that not as if they were in
actual migration, but playing about at their leisure
and feeding calmly, as if no enterprise of moment at
all agitated their spirits. And this was the case in
the beginning of this very month ; for, on the 4th of
November, more than twenty house-martins, which,
in appearance, had all departed about the 7th of
October, were seen again, for that one morning only,
sporting between my fields and the Hanger, and
feasting on insects which swarmed in that sheltered
district. The preceding day was wet and bluster-
ing, but the 4th was dark and mild, and soft, the
wind at south-west, and the thermometer at 58^°; a
pitch not common at that season of the year. More-

82

over, it may not be amiss to add in this place, that
whenever the thermometer is above 50° the bat
comes flitting out in every autumnal and winter
month.

From all these circumstances laid together, it is
obvious that torpid insects, reptiles, and quadru-
peds, are awakened from their profoundest slum-
bers by a little untimely warmth ; and therefore
that nothing so much promotes this death-like stu-
por as a defect of heat. And farther, it is reason-
able to suppose that two whole species, or at least
many individuals of those two species, of British
hirundmes, do never leave this island at all, but par-
take of the same benumbed state : for we cannot
suppose that, after a month's absence, house-martins
can return from southern regions to appear for
one morning in November, or that house-swallows
should leave the districts of Africa to enjoy in
March the transient summer of a couple of days.

Selborne, Nov. 22, 1777.

LETTER LXXIX.

To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

There was in this village several years ago a

miserable pauper, who, from his birth, was afflicted

with a leprosy, as far as we are aware, of a singular
23 83

kind; since it affected only the palms of his hands
and the soles of his feet. This scaly eruption usually
broke out twice in the year, at the spring and fall ;
and, by peeling away, left the skin so thin and ten-
der that neither his hands nor feet were able to per-
form their functions ; so that the poor object was
half his time on crutches, incapable of employ, and
languishing in a tiresome state of indolence and in-
activity. His habit was lean, lank, and cadaverous.
In this sad plight he dragged on a miserable exist-
ence, a burden to himself and his parish, which was
obliged to support him till he was relieved by death
at more than thirty years of age.

The good women, who love to account for every
defect in children by the doctrine of longing, said
that his mother felt a violent propensity for oysters,
which she was unable to gratify ; and that the black
rough scurf on his hands and feet were the shells of
that fish. I knew his parents, neither of whom were
lepers ; his father in particular lived to be far ad-
vanced in years.

In all ages, the leprosy has made dreadful havoc
among mankind. The Israelites seem to have been
greatly afflicted with it from the most remote times;
as appears from the peculiar and repeated injunc-
tions given them in the Levitical law.* Nor was the
rancour of this foul disorder much abated in the last

* See Leviticus xiii. and xiv.
84

period of their commonwealth, as may be seen in
many passages of the New Testament.

Some centuries ago this horrible distemper pre-
vailed all Europe over ; and our forefathers were by
no means exempt, as appears by the large provisions
made for objects labouring under this calamity.
There was a hospital for female lepers in the dio-
cese of Lincoln, a noble one near Durham, three in
London and Southwark, and perhaps many more in
or near our great towns and cities. Moreover, some
crowned heads, and other wealthy and charitable
personages, bequeathed large legacies to such poor
people as languished under this hopeless infirmity.

It must therefore, in these days, be, to a humane
and thinking person, a matter of equal wonder arid
satisfaction, when he contemplates how nearly this
pest is eradicated, and observes that a leper now is
a rare sight. He will, moreover, when engaged in
such a train of thought, naturally inquire for the
reason. This happy change perhaps may have origi-
nated and been continued from the much smaller
quantity of salted meat and fish now eaten in these
kingdoms ; from the use of linen next the skin ; from
the plenty of better bread ; and from the profusion
of fruits, roots, legumes, and greens, so common now
in every family. Three or four centuries ago, before
there were any inclosures, sown-grasses, field-turnips,
or field-carrots, or hay, all the cattle which had
grown fat in summer, and were not killed for winter

85

use, were turned out soon after Michaelmas to shift
as they could through the dead months ; so that no
fresh meat could be had in winter or spring. Hence
the marvellous account of the vast stores of salted
flesh found in the larder of the eldest Spencer, viz.
six hundred bacons, eighty carcases of beef, and six
hundred muttons, in the days of Edward the Second,
even so late in the spring as the 3rd of May. It was
from magazines like these that the turbulent barons
supported in idleness their riotous swarms of retain-
ers ready for any disorder or mischief. But 'agri-
culture is now arrived at such a pitch of perfection,
that our best and fattest meats are killed in the win-
ter ; and no man need eat salted flesh, unless he pre-
fers it.

One cause of this distemper might be, no doubt,
the quantity of wretched fresh and salt fish con-
sumed by the commonalty at all seasons as well as in
Lent ; which our poor now would hardly be per-
suaded to touch.

The use of linen changes, shirts or shifts, in the
room of sordid and filthy woollen, long worn next
the skin, is a matter of neatness comparatively mod-
ern ; but must prove a great means of preventing
cutaneous ails. At this very time woollen instead of
linen prevails among the poorer Welsh, who are sub-
ject to foul eruptions.

The plenty of good wheaten bread that now is

found among all ranks of people in the south, instead

86

of that miserable sort which used in old days to be
made of barley or beans, may contribute not a little
to the sweetening their blood and correcting- their
juices ; for the inhabitants of mountainous districts,
to this day, are still liable to the itch and other cuta-
neous disorders, from poverty of diet.

As to the produce of a garden, every middle-aged
person of observation may perceive, within his own
memory, both in town and country, how vastly the
consumption of vegetables is increased. Green-stalls
in cities now support multitudes in a comfortable
state, whilst gardeners get fortunes. Every decent
labourer has his garden, which is half his support, as
well as his delight ; and common farmers provide
plenty of beans, peas, and greens, for their 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 depend-
ants. Potatoes have prevailed in this little district,
by means of premiums, within these twenty years
only ; and are much esteemed here now by the poor,
who would scarce have ventured to taste them in
the last reign.

Our Saxon ancestors certainly had some sort of
cabbage, because they call the month of February
sprout-cale ; * but, long after their days, the cultiva-

* March was the stormy month with our Saxon ancestors ; May,
Thromilchi, the cows being then milked three times a-day ; June, dig
and weed month ; September, barley month. — Mitford.

87

tion of gardens was little attended to. The religious,
being men of leisure, and keeping up a constant cor-
respondence with Italy, were the first people among
us that had gardens and fruit-trees in any perfection,
within the walls of their abbeys, priories, and monas-
teries, where the lamp of knowledge continued to
burn, however diml3\ In them men of business were
formed for the state ; the art of writing was culti-
vated by the monks ; they were the only proficients in
mechanics, gardening, and architecture. * The bar-
ons neglected every pursuit that did not lead to war
or tend to the pleasure of the chase.

It was not till gentlemen took up the study of
horticulture themselves that the knowledge of gar-
dening made such hasty advances. Lord Cobham,
Lord Ila, and Mr. Waller of Beaconstield, were some
of the first people of rank that promoted the elegant
science of ornamenting without despising the super-
intendence of the kitchen quarters and fruit walls.

A remark made by the excellent Mr. Ray in his
Tour of Europe at once surprises us, and corrobo-
rates what has been advanced above ; for we find
him observing, so late as his days, that '' the Italians
use several herbs for sallets, which are not yet or
have not been but lately used in England, viz. selleri
(celery), \vhich is nothing else but the sweet small-
age ; the young shoots whereof, with a little of the

* Dalrymple's " Annals of Scotland."

head of the root cut off, they eat raw with oil and
pepper." And farther he adds, " curled endive
blanched is much used beyond seas ; and, for a raw
sallet, seemed to excel lettuce itself." Now this
journey was undertaken no longer ago than in the
year 1663.

Selborne, yaw. 8, 1778.

LETTER LXXX.

To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

" Forte puer, comiium seductus ab agmine fido,
Dixerat, Ecquis adest ? et, Adest, responderat Echo.
Hie stupet ; utque aciem partes divisit in omnes ;
Voce, Veni, elamat magna. Vocat ilia vocantem."

(Ovid, Met. iii. 379,)

" The youth being separated by chance from his faithful attendants,
calls aloud, ' Is there any one here?' and echo answers, ' Here.' He is
amazed, he casts his eyes on every side and calls with a loud voice,
* Come ! ' whereupon echo calls the youth who calls."

~ " She can't begin, but waits for the rebound,
To catch his voice and then return the sound."

(Dryden.)

In a district so diversified as this, so full of hol-
low vales and hanging woods, it is no wonder that
echoes should abound. Many we have discovered
that return the cry of a pack of dogs, the notes of a

hunting-horn, a tunable ring of bells, or the melody

89

of birds, very agreeably : but we were still at a loss
for a polysyllabical, articulate echo, till a young- gen-
tleman, who had parted from his company in a sum-
mer evening walk, and was calling after them, stum-
bled upon a very curious one in a spot where it
might least be expected. At first he was much sur-
prised, and could not be persuaded but that he was
mocked by some boy ; but, repeating his trials in
several languages, and finding his respondent to be
a very adroit polyglot, he then discerned the de-
ception.

This echo in an evening, before rural noises
cease, would repeat ten syllables most articulately
and distinctly, especially if quick dactyls were chosen.
The last syllables of

" Tityre, tu patulse recubans — — — — " *

were as audibly and intelligibly returned as the first ;
and there is no doubt, could trial have been made,
but that at midnight, when the air is very elastic,
and a dead stillness prevails, one or two syllables
more might have been obtained ; but the distance
rendered so late an experiment very inconven-
ient.

Quick dactyls, we observed, succeeded best ; for
when we came to try its powers in slow, heavy,

* " Beneath the shade which beechen boughs diffuse
You, Tityrus, entertain your sylvan muse."

(Dryden's Virg. Eel. i. i.)
90

embarrassed spondees of the same number of sylla-
bles,

" Monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens — — " *

we could perceive a return but of four or five.

All echoes have some one place to which they are
returned stronger and more distinct than to any
other ; and that is always the place that lies at right
angles with the object of repercussion, and is not too
near, nor too far off. Buildings, or naked rocks, re-
echo much more articulately than hanging wood or
vales ; because in the latter the voice is as it were
entangled, and embarrassed in the covert, and weak-
ened in the rebound.

The true source of this echo, as we found by
various experiments, is the stone-built, tiled hop-kiln
in Gally-lane, which measures in front 40 feet, and
from the ground to the eaves 12 feet. The true
centrum phonicum, or just distance, is one particular
spot in the King's-field, in the path to Nore-hill, on
the very brink of the steep balk above the hollow
cart-way. In this case there is no choice of distance ;
but the path, by mere contingency, happens to be
the lucky, the identical spot, because the ground
rises or falls so immediately, if the speaker either
retires or advances, that his mouth would at once
be above or below the object.

* "A monster grim, tremendous, vast and liigh."

(Dryden's Virg. ^n. iii. 658.)

91

We measured this polysyllabical echo with great
exactness, and found the distance to fall very short

An old hop- kiln.

of Dr. Plot's rule for distinct articulation : for the
Doctor, in his history of Oxfordshire, allows 120 feet
for the return of each syllable distinctly : hence this
echo, which gives ten distinct syllables, ought to
measure 400 yards, or 120 feet to each syllable ; where-
as our distance is only 258 3^ards, or near 75 feet to
each syllable. Thus our measure falls short of the

Doctor's, as five to eight : but then it must be acknowl-

92

edged that this candid philosopher was convinced
afterwards, that some latitude must be admitted of
in the distance of echoes according to time and place.

When experiments of this sort are making, it
should always be remembered that weather and the
time of day have a vast influence on an echo ; for a
dull, heavy, moist air deadens and clogs the sound ;
and hot sunshine renders the air thin and weak, and
deprives it of all its springiness ; and a ruffling wind
quite defeats the whole. In a still, clear, dewy even-
ing the air is most elastic; and perhaps the later the
hour the more so. Echo has always been so amusing
to the imagination, that the poets have personified
her ; and in their hands she has been the occasion of
many a beautiful fiction. Nor need the gravest man
be ashamed to appear taken with such a phenome-
non, since it may become the subject of philosophical
or mathematical inquiries.

One should have imagined that echoes, if not
entertaining, must at least have been harmless and
inoffensive; yet Virgil advances a strange notion, that
they are injurious to bees. After enumerating some
probable and reasonable annoyances, such as pru-
dent owners would wish far removed from their bee-
gardens, he adds

" — — — — — — aut ubi concava pulsu

Saxa sonant, vocisque ofifensa resultat imago." *

* " Nor place them where too deep a water flows,

Or where the yew, their poisonous neighbour, grows ;
93

There is a natural occurrence to be met with
upon the highest part of our downs in hot summer
days, which always amuses me much, without giving
me any satisfaction with respect to the cause of it ;
and that is a loud audible humming as of bees in
the air, though not one insect is to be seen. This
sound is to be heard distinctly the whole common
through, from the Moneydells, to my avenue gate.

Any person would suppose that a large swarm
of bees was in motion, and playing about over his
head. This noise was heard last week, on June 28th.

" Resounds the living surface of the ground,

Nor undelightful is the ceaseless hum

To him who muses ... at noon."
" Thick in yon stream of light a thousand ways,

Upward and downward, thwarting and convolved,

The quivering nations sport."

This wild and fanciful assertion will hardly be
admitted by the philosophers of these days ; espe-
cially as they all now seem agreed that insects are
not furnished with any organs of hearing at all. But
if it should be urged, that though they cannot hear,
yet perhaps they may feel the repercussion of sounds,
I grant it is possible they may. Yet that these im-
pressions are distasteful or hurtful, I deny, because

Nor near the steaming stench of muddy ground,
Nor hollow rocks that render hack the sound,
And double images of voice rebound."

(Dryden's Virg. Georg. iv. 47-50.)
94

WW.-

."■ '■.-fit'' . -f

^V^?«a^-.-: -^ ; v--' A >**-i^^'-

■\

fec':^?^:^ "■!^^'■'

■ ■ <

**^

bees, in good summers, thrive well in my outlet,
where the echoes are very strong : for this village is
another Anathoth, a place of responses or echoes.
Besides, it does not appear from experiment that
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 be-
come totally silent, though 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
disappointment is the same ; because a tall quick-set
hedge, nurtured up for the purpose of shelter to the
hop-ground, interrupts the repercussion of the voice :
so that till those obstructions are removed no more
of its garrulity can be expected.

Should any gentleman of fortune think an echo
in his park or outlet a pleasing incident, he might
build one at little or no expense. For whenever he
had occasion for a new barn, stable, dog kennel, or
the like structure, it would be only needful to erect
this building on the gentle declivity of a hill, with a

95

like rising opposite to it, at a few hundred yards
distance ; and perhaps success might be the easier
insured could some canal, lake, or stream, intervene.
From a seat at the centrum phonicuin he and his
friends might amuse themselves sometimes of an
evening with the prattle of this loquacious nymph ;
of whose complacency and decent reserve more may
be said than can with truth of every individual of
her sex ; since she is " always ready with her vocal
response, but never intrusive : " —

" — — — — — — quae nee reticere loquenti,

Nee prior ipsa loqui didieit resonabilis echo."

The classic reader will, I trust, pardon the follow-
ing lovely quotation, so finely describing echoes, and
so poetically accounting for their causes : —

" Quae ben^ quom videas, rationem reddere possis
Tute tibi atque aliis, quo paeto per loea sola
Saxa pareis formas verborum ex ordine reddant,
Palanteis comites quom monteis inter opaeos
Qugerimus, et magna disperos voee ciemus.
Sex etiam, aut septem loca vidi reddere voces
Unam quom jaeeres : ita coUes collibus ipsis
Verba repulsantes iterabant dicta referre.
Haec loea capripedes Satyros Nymphasque tenere
Finitimi fingunt, et Faunos esse loquuntur ;
Quorum noctivago strepitu, ludoque joeanti
Adfirmant volgo taciturna silentia rumpi,
Chordarumque sonos fieri, duleeisque querelas,
Tibia quas fundit digitis pulsata canentum :
Et genus agricolum XzXh sentiscere, quom Pan
Pinea semiferi capitis velamina quassans,
Unco ssepe labro calamos percurrit hianteis,
Fistula silvestrem ne cesset fundere musam."

(Lucretius, lib. iv. 1. 576.)
96

" This shows thee why, whilst men, through caves and groves
Call their lost friends, or mourn unhappy loves,
The pitying rocks, the groaning caves return
Their sad complaints again, and seem to mourn :
This all observe, and I myself have known
Both rocks and hills return six words for one :
The dancing words from hill to hill rebound,
They all receive, and all restore the sound :
The vulgar and the neighbours think, and tell,
That there the Nymphs, and Fauns, and Satyrs dwell :
And that their wanton sport, their loud delight.
Breaks through the quiet silence of the night :
Their music's softest airs fill all the plains,
And mighty Pan delights the list'ning swains :
The goat-faced Pan, whose flocks securely feed ;
With long-hung lip he blows his oaten reed :
The horned,- the half-beast god, when brisk and gay.
With pine-leaves crowned, provokes the swains to play."

(Creech's Translation.)
Selborne, Feb. 12, 1778.

LETTER LXXXI.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

Among the many singularities attending those
amusing birds the swifts, I am now confirmed in the
opinion that we have every year the same number
of pairs invariably ; at least the result of my inquiry
has been exactly the same for a long time past. The
swallows and martins are so numerous, and so wide-
ly distributed over the village, that it is hardly pos-
sible to re-count them ; while the swifts, though they

do not all build in the church, yet so frequently haunt
24 97

it, and play and rendezvous round it, that they are
easily enumerated. The number that I constantly
find are eight pairs; about half of which reside in
the church, and the rest build in some of the lowest
and meanest thatched cottages. Now as these eight
pairs, allowance being made for accidents, breed
yearly eight pairs more, what becomes of this annual
increase ; and what determines every spring which
pairs shall visit us, and reoccupy their ancient haunts?
Ever since 1 have attended to that subject of
ornithology, I have always supposed that the sud-
den reverse of affection, that strange avroaropyrj, or
antipathy, which immediately succeeds in the feath-
ered kind to the most passionate fondness, is the
occasion of an equal dispersion of birds over the
face of the earth. Without this provision one fa-
vourite district would be crowded with inhabitants,
while others would be destitute and forsaken. But
the parent birds seem to maintain a jealous supe-
riority, and to oblige the young to seek for new
abodes : and the rivalry of the males, in many kinds,
prevents their crowding the one on the other.
Whether the swallows and house-martins return in
the same exact number annually is not easy to say,
for reasons given above : but it is apparent, as I
have remarked before in my Monographies, that the
numbers returning bear no manner of proportion to
the numbers retiring.

Selborne, May 13, 1778.

98

LETTER LXXXII.

To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

The standing objection to botany has always
been, that it is a pursuit that amuses the fancy and
exercises the memory, without improving the mind
or advancing any real knowledge: and, where the
science is carried no farther than a mere system-
atic classification, the charge is but too true. But
the botanist that is desirous of wiping off this asper-
sion should be by no means content with a list
of names; he should study plants philosophically,
should investigate the laws of vegetation, should
examine the powers and virtues of efficacious herbs,
should promote their cultivation ; and graft the gar-
dener, the planter, and the husbandman, on the phy-
tologist. Not that system is by any means to be
thrown aside ; without system the field of Nature
would be a pathless wilderness : but system should
be subservient to, not the main object of, pursuit.

Vegetation is highly worthy of our attention ;
and in itself is of the utmost consequence to man-
kind, and productive of many of the greatest com-
forts and elegancies of life. To plants we owe tim-
ber, bread, beer, honey, wine, oil, linen, cotton, &c.,
what not only strengthens our hearts, and exhila-
rates our spirits, but what secures us from inclemen-
cies of weather and adorns our persons. Man, in

99

his true state of nature, seems to be subsisted by
spontaneous vegetation : in middle climes, where
grasses prevail, he mixes some animal food with the
produce of the field and garden : and it is towards
the polar extremes only that, like his kindred bears
and wolves, he gorges himself with flesh alone, and
is driven to what hunger has never been known to
compel the very beasts, to prey on his own species.

The productions of vegetation have had a vast
influence on the commerce of nations, and have been
the great promoters of navigation, as may be seen
in the articles of sugar, tea, tobacco, opium, ginseng,
betel, paper, &c. As ever}'^ climate has its peculiar
produce, our natural wants bring on a mutual inter-
course ; so that by means of trade each distant part
is supplied with the growth of every latitude. But
without the knowledge of plants and their culture
we must have been content with our hips and haws,
without enjoying the delicate fruits of India and the
salutiferous drugs of Peru.

Instead of examining the minute distinctions of
every various species of each obscure genus, the
botanist should endeavour to make himself ac-
quainted with those that are useful. You shall see
a man readily ascertain every herb of the field, yet
hardly know wheat from barley, or at least one sort
of wheat or barley from another.

But of all sorts of vegetation the grasses seem
to be most neglected ; neither the farmer nor the

lOO

grazier seems to distinguish the annual from the
perennial, the hardy from the tender, nor the suc-
culent and nutritive from the dry and juiceless.

The study of grasses would be of great conse-
quence to a northerly and grazing kingdom. The
botanist that could improve the sward of the district
where he lived would be a useful member of society:
to raise a thick turf on a naked soil would be worth
volumes of systematic knowledge ; and he would be
the best commonwealth's man that could occasion
the growth of ** two blades of grass where only one
was seen before."

Selborne, June 2, 1778.

LETTER LXXXIII.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

In a district so diversified with such a variety of
hill and dale, aspects, and soils, it is no wonder that
great choice of plants should be found. Chalks,
clays, sands, sheep-walks and downs, bogs, heaths,
woodlands, and champaign fields, cannot but furnish
an ample Flora. The deep rocky lanes abound with
filices, and the pastures and moist woods with fungi.
If in any branch of botany we may seem to be want-
ing, it must be in the large aquatic plants, which are
not to be expected on a spot far removed from

rivers, and lying up amidst the hill country at the
spring-heads. To enumerate all the plants that have

A village lane.

been discovered within our limits would be a need-
less work ; but a short list of the more rare, and the
spots where they are to be found, may be neither
unacceptable nor unentertaining : —

Stinking Hellebore {Hellehorus fcetidus), Bear's foot or Setterwort,
all over the High-wood and Coney-croft-hanger ; this continues a great

I02

branching plant the winter through, blossoming about January, and is
very ornamental in shady walks and shrubberies. The good women
give the leaves powdered to children troubled with worms ; but it is a
violent remedy, and ought to be administered with caution.

Green Hellebore {Helleborus viridis), in the deep stony lane on the
left hand just before the turning to Norton farm, and at the top of Mid-
dle Dorton under the hedge ; this plant dies down to the ground early in
autumn, and springs again about February, flowering almost as soon as
it appears above ground.

Creeping Bilberry, or Cranberries ( Vaccinium oxycoccos), in the bogs
of Bin's-pond.

Whortle, or Bilberries ( Vaccinium viyrtillus), on the dry hillocks of
Wolmer Forest.

Round-leaved Sundew {Drosera rotundi fiord), and long-leaved Sun-
dew {^Drosera longifolid), in the bogs of Bin's-pond.

Purple Comarum {Comarum palustre), or Marsh Cinquefoil, in the
bogs of Bin's-pond,

Tustan, or St. John's Wort {Hypericum androscemum), in the stony,
hollow lanes.

Lesser Periwinkle ( Vinca minor), in Selborne-hanger and Shrub-
wood.

Yellow Monolropa {Monotropa kypopitkys), or Bird's nest, in Selborne-
hanger under the shady beeches, to whose roots it seems to be parasit-
ical, at the north-west end of the Hanger.

Perfoliated Yellow- wort {Chlora perfoliaia, Blackstonia perfoliata,
Hudsonii), on the banks in the King's-field.

Herb Paris {Paris quadrifolia). True-love, or One-berry, in the
Church-litten-coppice.

Opposite Golden Saxifrage {Chrysosplenium oppositifolium), in the
dark and, rocky hollow lanes.

Autumnal Gentian {Gentiana amarella), or Fellwort, on (he Zig-zag
and Hanger.

Tooth-wort {LathrcBa squammarid)^ in the Church-litten-coppice
under some hazels near the foot-bridge, in Trimming's garden hedge,
and on the dry wall opposite Grange-yard.

Small Teasel {Dipsacus pilosus), in the Short and Long Lithe.

Narrow-leaved, or Wild Lathyrus {Lathyrus sylvestiis), in the bushes
at the foot of the Short Lithe, near the path.

Ladies' Traces {Ophtys spiralis), in the Long Lithe, and towards the
south corner of the common.

Birds' Nest Ophrys {Ophrys nidus avis), in the Long Lithe, under

T03

the shady beeches among the dead leaves ; in Great Dorton among the
bushes, and on the Hanger plentifully,

Helleborine {Serapias latifolia), in the High-wood under the shady
beeches.

Spurge Laurel {Daphne laureold), in Selborne-hanger and the High-
wood.

The Mezereon {Daphne Mezereum), in Selborne-hanger, among the
shrubs at the south-east end above the cottages.

Truffles {Lycoperdon tuber), in the Hanger and the High-wood.

Dwarf Elder, Walwort or Banewort {Sambucus ebuhis), 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 fcetidus
and Helleborus niger blowing at Christmas, the Helle-
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 vegetables differ so widely
in their time of flowering, that we cannot but admire.
I shall only instance at present in the Crocus 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 dif-
ference in the corolla, or in the internal structure.
Yet the vernal crocus expands its flowers by the

beginning of March at farthest, and often even in

104

very rigorous weather ; they cannot be retarded but
by some violence offered : — while the autumnal
(the Saffron) defies the influence of the spring and
summer, and will not blow till most plants begin to
fade and run to seed. This circumstance is one of
the wonders of the creation, little noticed because a
common occurrence : yet it ought not to be over-
looked because it is familiar, since it would be as
difficult to be explained as the most stupendous phe-
nomenon in nature.

" Say, what impels, amidst surrounding snow
Congealed, the crocus* flamy bud to glow ?
Say, what retards, amidst the summer's blaze,
Th* autumnal bulb, till pale, declining days ?
The God of Seasons ; whose pervading power
Controls the sun, or sheds the fleecy shower :
He bids each flower His quick'ning word obey ;
Or to each lingering bloom enjoins delay."

Selborne, July 3, 1778.

LETTER LXXXIV.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

" Omnibus animalibus reliquis certus et uniusmodi, et in suo cuique
genere incessus est : aves solae vario meatu feruntur, et in terra, et in
aere." — Plin. Hist. Nat. lib, x. cap. 38.

" All animals have a certain definite and peculiar gait ; birds alone
move in a varied manner both on the ground and in the air."

A GOOD ornithologist should be able to distin-
guish birds by their air as well as by their colours

105

and shape ; on the ground as well as on the wing, and
in the bush as well as in the hand. For, though it
must not be said that every species of birds has a
manner peculiar to itself, yet there is somewhat in
most genera at least that at first sight discriminates
them, and enables a judicious observer to pronounce
upon them with some certainty. Put a bird in mo-
lion " and it is truly betrayed by its gait."

" — — Et vera incessu patuit — — — — "

Thus kites and buzzards sail round in circles with
wings expanded and motionless ; and it is from their
gliding manner that the former are still called in the
north of England and Scotland " gleds," from the
Saxon verb glidan, to glide. The kestrel, or wind-
hover, has a peculiar mode of hanging in the air in
one place, his wings all the while being briskly agi-
tated. Hen-harriers fly low over heaths or fields of
corn, and beat the ground regularly like a pointer or
setting-dog. Owls move in a buoyant manner, as
if lighter than the air ; they seem to want ballast.
There is a peculiarity belonging to ravens that must
draw the attention even of the most incurious — they
spend all their leisure time in striking and cuffing
each other on the wing in a kind of playful skirmish ;
and, when they move from one place to another, fre-
quently turn on their backs with a loud croak, and
seem to be falling to the ground. When this odd
gesture betides them, they are scratching themselves

io6

with one foot, and thus lose the centre of gravity.
Rooks sometimes dive and tumble in a frolicsome
manner ; crows and daws swag-
ger in their walk ; wood-
peckers fly volatu tmdoso,
opening and closing their
wings at every stroke,
and so are always rising
or falling in curves. All
of this genus use their
tails, which incline down-
ward, as a support while
they run up trees. Parrots,
like all other hooked-clawed
birds, walk awkwardl}^ and
make use of their bill as a third
foot, climbing and descending with
ridiculous caution. All the gallince
parade and walk gracefully, and run nimbly ; but
fly with difficulty, with an impetuous whirring, and
in a straight line. Magpies and jays flutter with
powerless wings, and make no despatch ; herons
seem encumbered with too much sail for their light
bodies ; but these vast hollow wings are necessary
in carrying burdens, such as large fishes, and the
like ; pigeons, and particularly the sort called smit-
ers, have a way of clashing their wings, the one
against the other, over their backs with a loud

snap ; another variety called tumblers, turn them-

107

A jackdaw.

selves over in the air. Some birds have move-
ments peculiar to the season of love : thus ring-
doves, though strong and rapid at other times, yet,
in the spring, hang about on the wing in a toying
and playful manner ; thus the cock-snipe, while
breeding, forgetting his former flight, fans the air
like the wind-hover ; and the greenfinch in particular
exhibits such languishing and faltering gestures, as
to appear like a wounded and dying bird ; the king-
fisher darts along like an arrow ; fern-owls, or goat-
suckers, glance
in the dusk over
the tops of trees
like a meteor ;
starlings as it
were swim along,
while missel-

^ thrushes use a
wild and desul-
tory flight ; swal-
lows sweep over
the surface of
the ground and
water, and dis-
tinguish them-
selves by rapid
turns and quick
swifts dash round in circles ; and the

moves with frequent vacillations like
io8

Skylarks.

evolutions ;
bank-martin

a butterfly. Most of the small birds fly by jerks,
rising and falling as they advance ; many of them
hop ; but wagtails and larks walk, moving their legs
alternately. Skylarks rise and fall perpendicularly
as they sing ; woodlarks hang poised in the air ; and
titlarks rise and fall in large curves, singing in their
descent. The white-throat uses odd jerks and ges-
ticulations over the tops of hedges and bushes. All
the duck-kind waddle ; divers, and auks, walk as if
fettered, and stand erect on their tail : these are the
compedes of Linnasus. Geese and cranes, and most
wild-fowl, move in figured flights, often changing
their position. The secondary remiges of Tringce,
wild-ducks, and some others, are very long, and give
their wings, when in motion, a hooked appearance.
Dab-chicks, moor-hens, and coots, fly erect, with
their legs hanging down, and hardly make any de-
spatch ; the reason is plain, their wings are placed
too forward out of the true centre of gravity for
rapid progression; as the legs of auks and divers
are situated too backward.

Selborne. Aug. 7, 1778.

109

LETTER LXXXV.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

From the motion of birds, the transition is natu-
ral enough to their notes and language, of which I
shall say something. Not that I would pretend to
understand their language, like the vizier of the
Spectator, who, by the recital of a conversation which
passed between two owls, reclaimed a sultan, before
delighting in conquest and devastation ; but I would
be thought only to mean that many of the winged
tribes have various sounds and voices adapted to
express their various passions, wants, and feelings ;
such as anger, fear, love, hatred, hunger, and the
like. All species are not equally eloquent ; some are
copious and fluent as it were in their utterance, while
others are confined to a few important sounds : no
bird, like the fish kind, is quite mute, though some
are rather silent. The language of birds is very an-
cient, and, like other ancient modes of speech, very
elliptical ; little is said, but much is meant and un-
derstood.

The notes of the eagle-kind are shrill and pier-
cing ; and about the season of nidification much
diversified, as I have been often assured by a curious
observer of Nature who long resided at Gibraltar,
where eagles abound. The notes of our hawks much
resemble those of the king of birds. Owls have very

expressive notes ; they hoot in a fine vocal sound,
much resembling the vox humana, and reducible by
a pitch-pipe to a musical key. This note seems to
express complacency and rivalry among the males :
they use also a quick call and a horrible scream ;
and can snore and hiss when they mean to menace.
Ravens, besides their loud croak, can exert a deep
and solemn note that makes the woods echo ; the
amorous sound of a crow is strange and ridiculous ;
rooks, in the breeding season, attempt sometimes in
the gaiety of their hearts to sing, but with no great
success ; the parrot-kind may have many modula-
tions of voice, as appears by their aptitude to learn
human sounds ; doves coo in an amorous and mourn-
ful manner, and are emblems of despairing lovers ;
the woodpecker sets up a sort of loud and hearty
laugh ; the fern-owl, or goat-sucker, from the dusk
till daybreak, serenades his mate with the clattering
of castanets. All the tuneful passeres express their
complacency by sweet modulations, and a variety of
melody. The swallow, as has been observed in a
former letter, by a shrill alarm bespeaks the atten-
tion of the other hiruiidines, and bids them be aware
that the hawk is at hand. Aquatic and gregarious
birds, especially the nocturnal, that shift their quar-
ters in the dark, are very noisy and loquacious ; as
cranes, wild-geese, wild-ducks, and the like : their
perpetual clamour prevents them from dispersing
and losing their companions.

Ill

In so extensive a subject, sketches and outlines
are as much as can be expected ; for it would be end-
less to instance in all their infinite variety the notes
of the feathered nation. I shall therefore confine the
remainder of this letter to the few domestic fowls ot
our yards which are most khown, and therefore best
understood. And first the peacock, with his gor-
geous train, demands our attention ; but, like most of
the gaudy birds, his notes are grating and shocking
to the ear : the yelling of cats, and the braying of an
ass, are not more disgustful. The voice of the goose
is trumpet-like, and clanking ; and once saved the
Capitol at Rome, as grave historians assert ; the hiss
also of the gander is formidable and full of menace,
and " protective of his young." Among ducks the
sexual distinction of voice is remarkable ; for, while
the quack of the female is loud and sonorous, the
voice of the drake is inward and harsh, and feeble,
and scarce discernible. The cock turkey struts and
gobbles to his mistress in a most uncouth manner ;
he hath also a pert and petulant note when he attacks
his adversary. When a hen turkey leads forth her
young brood she keeps a watchful eye ; and if a bird
of prey appear, though ever so high in the air, the
careful mother announces the enemy with a little
inward moan, and watches him with a steady and
attentive look; but, if he approach, her note becomes
earnest and alarming, and her outcries are redoubled.

No inhabitants of the yard seem possessed of

112

such a variety of expression and so copious a lan-
guage as common poultry. Take a chicken of four
or five days old, and hold it up to a window where
there are flies, and it will immediately seize its prey,
with little twitterings of complacency ; but if you
tender it a wasp or a bee, at once its note becomes
harsh, and expressive of disapprobation and a sense
of danger. When a pullet is ready to lay she inti-
mates the event by a joyous soft and easy note. Of
all the occurrences of their life that of laying seems
to be the most important ; for no sooner has a hen
disburdened herself, than she rushes forth with a
clamorous kind of joy, which the cock and the rest
of his mistresses immediately adopt. The tumult is
not confined to the family concerned, but catches
from yard to yard, and spreads to every homestead
within hearing, till at last the whole village is in an
uproar. As soon as a hen becomes a mother her
new relation demands a new language ; she then
runs clucking and screaming about, and seems agi-
tated, as if possessed. The father of the flock has
also a considerable vocabulary ; if he finds food, he
calls a favourite concubine to partake ; and if a bird
of prey passes over, with a warning voice he bids his
family beware. The gallant chanticleer has, at com-
mand, his amorous phrases and his terms of defiance.
But the sound by which he is best known is his
crowing ; by this he has been distinguished in all
ages as the countryman's clock or larum, as the
25 113

watchman that proclaims the divisions of the night.
Thus the poet elegantly styles him :

— — the crested
The silent hours."

^hose clarion sounds

A neighbouring gentleman one summer had lost
most of his chickens by a sparrow-hawk, that came
gliding down between a faggot pile and the end of

sparrow hawks.

his house, to the place where the coops stood. The
owner, inwardly vexed to see his flock thus diminish-

114

ing, hung a setting net adroitly between the pile and
the house, into which the caitiff dashed, and was en-
tangled. Resentment suggested the law of retalia-
tion ; he therefore clipped the hawk's wings, cut off
his talons, and, fixing a cork on his bill, threw him
down among the brood-hens. Imagination cannot
paint the scene that ensued ; the expressions that
fear, rage, and revenge inspired were new, or at least
such as had been unnoticed before: the exasperated
matrons upbraided, they execrated, they insulted,
they triumphed. In a word, they never desisted
from buffeting their adversary till they had torn him
in a hundred pieces.

Selborne, Sept. 9, 1778,

LETTER LXXXVI.
To THE Honourable Daines Harrington.

" — — — — — — — monstrent

Quid tantum oceano properent se tingere soles
Hyberni : vel quse tardis mora noctibus obstet."

(ViRG. Georg. ii. 477-482.) .

" How winter suns in ocean plunge so soon,
And what belates the tardy nights of June."

Gentlemen who have outlets might contrive to
make ornament subservient to utility ; a pleasing

115

eye-trap might also contribute to promote science :
an obelisk in a garden or park might be both an em-
bellishment and a heliotrope.

Any person that is curious, and enjoys the advan,
tage of a good horizon, might, with little trouble-
make two heliotropes ; the one for the winter, the
other for the summer solstice : and these two erec-
tions might be constructed with very little expense ;
for two pieces of timber framework, about ten or
twelve feet high, and four feet broad at the base,
close lined with plank, would answer the purpose.

The erection for the former should, if possible, be
placed within sight of some window in the common
sitting parlour ; because men, at that dead season of
the year, are usually within doors at the close of the
day ; while that for the latter might be fixed for any
given spot in the garden or outlet : whence the
owner might contemplate, in a fine summer's even-
ing, the utmost extent that the sun makes to the
northward at the season of the longest days. Now
nothing would be necessary but to place these two
objects with so much exactness, that the westerly
limb of the sun, at setting, might but just clear the
winter heliotrope to the west of it on the shortest ;
the whole disc of the sun clearing the summer helio-
trope to the north of it at the longest day.

By this simple expedient it w^ould soon appear
that there is no such thing, strictly speaking, as a sol-
stice ; for, from the shortest day, the owner would,

ii6

every clear evening, see the disc advancing, at its
setting, to the westward of the object ; and, from the
longest day, observe the sun retiring backwards
every evening at its setting, towards the object west-
ward, till, in a few nights, it would set quite behind
it, and so by degrees to the west of it : lor when the
sun comes near the summer solstice, the whole disc
of it would at first set behind the object; after a time
the northern limb would first appear, and so every
night gradually more, till at length the whole diame-
ter would set northward of it for about three nights ;
but on the middle night of the three, sensibly more
remote than the former or following. When reced-
ing from the summer tropic, it would continue more
and more to be hidden every night,, till at length
it would descend behind the object again ; and so
nightly more and more to the westward.
Selborne.

117

LETTER LXXXVII.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

" — — — Mugire videbis
Sub pedibus terram, et descendere montibus ornos."

(ViRG. j^n. iv, 490, 491.)

'* Earth bellows,
Trees leave their mountains at her potent call ;
Beneath her footsteps groans the trem])ling ball."

(Pitt.)

When I was a boy I used to read, with as-
tonishment and implicit assent, accounts in Baker's
" Chronicle " of walking hills and travelling moun-
tains. John Philips, in his " Cyder," alludes to the
credit given to.such stories with a delicate but quaint
vein of humour peculiar to the author of the *' Splen-
did Shilling : "

*' I nor advise, nor reprehend the choice
Of 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
Forsaken, to thy neighbour's bounds transfer
Thy goodly plants, affording matter strange
For law debates I"

But, when I came to consider better, I began to
suspect that though our hills may never have jour-
neyed far, yet that the ends of many of them have
slipped and fallen away at distant periods, leaving

the cliffs bare and abrupt. This seems to have been

118

the case with Nore and Whetham Hills ; and espe-
cially with the ridge between Harteley Park and
Wardleharn, where the ground has slid into vast
swellings and furrows ; and lies still in such romantic
confusion as cannot be accounted for from any other
cause. A strange event, that happened not long
since, justifies our suspicions ; which, though it befell
not within the limits of this parish, yet, as it was
within the hundred of Selborne, and as the circum-
stances were singular, may fairly claim a place in
this work.

The months of January and February, in the year
1774, were remarkable for great melting snows and
vast gluts of rain ; so that by the end of the latter
month the land-springs, or lavants, began to prevail,
and to be near as high as in the memorable winter of
1764. The beginning of March also went on in the
same tenor; when, in the night between the 8th and
9th of that month, a considerable part of the great
woody hanger at Hawkley was torn from its place,
and fell down, leaving a high free-stone cliff naked
and bare, and resembling the steep side of a chalk-
pit. It appears that this huge fragment, being per-
haps sapped and undermined by waters, foundered,
and was ingulfed, going down in a perpendicular
direction ; for a gate which stood in the field, on the
top of the hill, after sinking with its posts for thirty or
forty feet, remained in so true and upright a position
as to open and shut with great exactness, just as in

119

its first situation. Several oaks are still standing,
and in a state of vegetation, after taking the same
desperate leap. That great part of this prodigious
mass was absorbed in some gulf below is plain also
from the inclining ground at the bottom of the hill,
which is free and unincumbered ; but would have
been buried in heaps of rubbish had the fragment
parted and fallen forward. About a hundred yards
from the foot of this hanging coppice stood a cottage
by the side of a lane ; and two hundred yards lower,
on the other side of the lane, was a farm-house, in
which lived a labourer and his family ; and, just by,
a stout new barn. The cottage was inhabited by
an old woman and her son, and his wife. These peo-
ple in the evening, which was very dark and tem-
pestuous, observed that the brick floors of their
kitchens began to heave and part ; and that the
walls seemed to open, and the roofs to crack : but
they all agree that no tremor of the ground, indicat-
ing an earthquake, was ever felt ; only that the wind
continued to make a most tremendous roaring in the
woods and hangers. The miserable inhabitants, not
daring to go to bed, remained in the utmost solici-
tude and confusion, expecting every moment to be
buried under the ruins of their shattered edifices.
When daylight came they were at leisure to contem-
plate the devastations of the night : they then found
that a deep rift, or chasm, had opened under their
houses, and torn them, as it were, in two ; and that

one end of the barn had suffered in a similar manner;
that a pond near the cottage had undergone a strange
reverse, becoming deep at the shallow end, and so
vice 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 a new track to be made to
it. From the foot of the cliff the general course
of the ground, which is pasture, inclines in a
moderate descent for half a mile, and is interspersed
with some hillocks, which were rifted, in every direc-
tion, as well towards the great woody hanger as from
it. In the first pasture the deep clefts began : and
running across the lane, and under the buildings,
made such vast shelves that the road was impassable
for some time ; and so over to an arable field on the
other side, which was strangely torn and disordered.
The second pasture field, being more soft and
springy, was protruded forward without many fis-
sures in the turf, which was raised in long ridges re-
sembling graves, lying at right angles to the motion.
At the bottom of this inclosure the soil and turf rose
many feet against some oaks that obstructed their
farther course, and terminated this awful commotion.
The perpendicular height of the precipice, in gen-
eral, is twenty-three yards ; the length of the lapse,
or slip, as seen from the fields below, one hundred
and eighty-one ; and a partial fall, concealed in the

coppice, extends seventy yards more : so that the
total length of this fragment that fell was two hun-
dred and fifty-one yards. About fifty acres of land
suffered from this violent convulsion ; two houses
were entirely destroyed ; one end of a new barn was
left in ruins, the walls being cracked through the
very stones that composed them ; a hanging coppice
was changed to a naked rock : and some grass
grounds and an arable field so broken and rifted by
the chasms as to be rendered, for a time, neither fit
for the plough nor safe for pasturage, till consider-
able labour and expense had been bestowed in level-
ling the surface and filling in the gaping fissures.

Selborne.

LETTER LXXXVIII.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

" resonant arbusta ."

(ViRG. Ed. ii. 13.)

" The groves resound."

There is a steep abrupt pasture field interspersed
with furze close to the back of this village, well
known by the name of the Short Lithe, consisting of
a rocky dry soil, and inclining to the afternoon sun.
This spot abounds with Grylhis carnpcstris, or field-
cricket, which, though frequent in these parts, is

by no means a common insect in many other coun-
tise.

As their cheerful summer cry cannot but draw
the attention of a naturalist, I have often gone down
to examine the economy of these^rj///, and study their
mode of life : but they are so shy and cautious, that
it is no easy matter to get a sight of them ; for, feel-
ing a person's footsteps as he advances, they stop
short in the midst of their song, and retire backward
nimbly into their burrows, where they lurk till all
suspicion of danger is over.

At first we attempted to dig them out M^ith a
spade, but without any great success; for either we
could not get to the bottom of the hole, which often
terminated under a great stone; or else, in breaking
up the ground, we inadvertently squeezed the poor
insect to death. Out of one so bruised we took a
multitude of eggs, which were long and narrow, of a
yellow colour, and covered with a very tough skin.
By this accident we learned to distinguish the male
from the female; the former of which is shining
black, with a golden stripe across his shoulders ; the
latter is more dusky, more capacious about the abdo-
men, and carries a long sword-shaped weapon at her
tail, which probably is the instrument with which she
deposits her eggs in their receptacles.

Where violent methods will not avail, more gentle

means will often succeed ; and so it proved in the

present case ; for though a spade be too boisterous

123

and rough an implement, a pliant stock of grass,
gently insinuated into the caverns, will probe their
windings to the bottom, and quickly bring out the
inhabitant ; and thus the humane inquirer may grat-
ify his curiosity without injuring the object of it.
It is remarkable that, though these insects are fur-
nished with long legs behind, and brawny thighs
for leaping, like grasshoppers ; yet, when driven
from their holes they show no activity, but crawl
along in a shiftless manner, so as easily to be taken :
and again, though provided with a curious apparatus
of wings, yet they never exert them when there seems
to be the greatest occasion. The males only make
that thrilling noise perhaps out of rivalry and emu-
lation, as is the case with many animals which exert
some sprightly note during their breeding time : it
is raised by a brisk friction of one wing against the
other. They are solitary beings, living singly male
or female, each as it may happen; but there must be
a time when the sexes have some intercourse, and
then the wings may be useful perhaps during the
hours of night. When the males meet they will fight
fiercely, as I found by some which I put into the
crevices of a dry stone wall, where I should have
been glad to have made them settle. For though
they seemed distressed by being taken out of their
knowledge, yet the first that got possession of the
chinks would seize on any that were obtruded upon

them with a vast row of serrated fangs. With

124

their strong jaws, toothed like the shears of a lob-
ster's claws, they perforate and round their curious
regular cells, having no fore claws to dig, like the
mole-cricket. When taken in hand I could not but
wonder that they never offered to defend themselves,
though armed with such formidable weapons. Of
such herbs as grow before the mouths of their bur-
rows they eat indiscriminately ; and on a little plat-
form, which they make just by, they drop their
dung ; and never, in the day time, seem to stir more
than two or three inches from home. Sitting in the
entrance of their caverns they chirp all night as well
as day, from the middle of the month of May to the
middle of July ; and in hot weather, when they are
most vigorous, they make the hills echo ; and, in the
stiller hours of darkness, may be heard to a consider-
able distance. In the beginning of the season their
notes are more faint and inward ; but become louder
as the summer advances, and so die away again by
degrees.

Sounds do not always give us pleasure according
to their sweetness and melody ; nor do harsh sounds
always displease. We are more apt to be captivated
or disgusted with the associations which they pro-
mote, than with the notes themselves. Thus the
shrilling of the field-cricket, though sharp and stridu-
lous, yet marvellously delights some hearers, filling
their minds with a train of summer ideas of every-
thing that is rural, verdurous and joyous.

125

About the loth of March the crickets appear at
the mouths of their cells, which they then open and
bore, and shape very elegantly. They cast their
skins in April, which are then seen lying at the
mouths of their holes. All that ever I have seen at
that season were in their pupa state, and had only
the rudiments of wings, lying under a skin or coat,
which must be cast before the insect can arrive at its
perfect state ; from whence I should suppose that
the old ones of last year do not always survive the
winter. In August their holes begin to be obliter-
ated, and the insects are seen no more till spring.

Not many summers ago I endeavoured to trans-
plant a colony to the terrace in my garden, by bor-
ing deep holes in the sloping turf. The new inhab-
itants stayed some time, and fed and sung ; but
wandered away by degrees, and were heard at a
farther distance every morning; so that it appears
that in this emergency they made use of their wings
to return to the spot from which they were taken.

One of these crickets, when confined in a paper
cage and set in the sun, and supplied with plants
moistened with water, will feed and thrive, and be-
come so merry and loud as to be irksome in the same
room where a person is sitting : if the plants are not
wetted it will die.
Selborne.

L26

LETTER LXXXIX.

To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

" Far from all resort of mirth
Save the cricket on the hearth,"

Milton's // Penseroso.

While many other insects must be sought after
In fields, and woods, and waters, the Grylhis domes-

rioiuing under the Hanger.

ticus, or house-cricket, resides altogether within our

dwellings, intruding itself upon our notice whether

127

we will or no. This species delights in new-built
houses, being, like the spider, pleased with the mois-
ture of the walls ; and besides, the softness of the
mortar enables them to burrow and mine between
the joints of the bricks of stones, and to open com-
munications from one room to another. They are
particularly fond of kitchens and bakers' ovens, on
account of their perpetual warmth.

Tender insects that live abroad either enjoy only
the short period of one summer, or else doze away
the cold uncomfortable months in profound slum-
bers; but these, residing as it were in a torrid zone,
are always alert and merry : a good Christmas fire is
to them like the heats of the dog-days. Though
they are frequently heard by day, yet is their nat-
ural time of motion only in the night. As soon as it
grows dusk, the chirping increases, and they come
running forth, ranging from the size of a flea to that
of their full stature. As one should suppose from
the burning atmosphere which they inhabit, they
are a thirsty race, and show a great propensity for
liquids, being found frequently drowned in pans of
water, milk, broth, or the like. Whatever is moist
they affect ; and therefore often gnaw holes in wet
woollen stockings and aprons that are hung to the
fire: they are the housewife's barometer, foretelling
her when it will rain ; and they prognosticate some-
times, she thinks, good or ill luck ; the death of near

relations, or the approach of an absent lover. By

128

being the constant companions of her solitary hours,
they naturally become the objects of her supersti-
tion. These crickets are not only very thirsty, but
very voracious ; for they will eat the scummings of
pots, and yeast, salt, and crumbs of bread ; and any
kitchen offal or sweepings. In the summer we have
observed them to fi}^ out of the windows when it
became dusk, and over the neighbouring roofs.
This feat of activity accounts for the sudden manner
in which they often leave their haunts, as it does for
the method by which they come to houses where
they were not known before. It is remarkable, that
many sorts of insects seem never to use their wings
but when they have a mind to shift their quarters
and settle new colonies. When in the air they move
volatu undoso, in "■ waves or curves," like woodpeck-
ers, opening and shutting their wings at every stroke,
and so are always rising or sinking.

When they increase to a great degree, as they
did once in the house where I am now writing, they
become noisome pests, flying into the candles, and
dashing into people's faces; but may be blasted and
destroyed by gunpowder discharged into their crev-
ices and crannies.

[In November, after the servants are gone to bed,
the kitchen hearth swarms with minute crickets not
so large as fleas, which must have been lately hatched,
so that these domestic insects, cherished by the influ-
ence of a constant and large fire, regard not the sea-
26 129,

son of the year, but produce their young at a time
when their congeners are either dead or laid up for
the winter, passing away the uncomfortable months
in a state of torpidity.

When house-crickets are out and running about
a room in the night, if surprised by a candle, they
utter two or three shrill notes, as if it were a signal
to their fellows, that they may escape to their cran-
nies and lurking-places to avoid danger.]

In families, at such times, they are, like Pharaoh's
plague of frogs, — in their bedchambers, and upon
their beds, and in their ovens, and in their kneading-
troughs."^ Their shrilling noise is occasioned by a
brisk attrition of their wings. Cats catch hearth-
crickets, and play with them as they do with mice,
and then devour them. Crickets may be destroyed,
like wasps, by phials half filled with beer, or any
other liquid, and set in their haunts; for, being
always eager to drink, they will crowd in till the
bottles are full.
Selborne.

* Exod. viii. 3.

130

LETTER XC.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

How diversified are the modes of life not only of
incongruous but even of congenerous animals ; and
yet their specific distinctions are not more various
than their propensities. Thus, while the field-cricket
delights in sunny dry banks, and the house-cricket
rejoices amidst the glowing heat of the kitchen
hearth or oven, the Gryllus gryllo talpa (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-teet curiously adapted to the purpose, it bur-
rows and works under ground like the mole, rais-
ing a ridge as it proceeds, but seldom throwing up
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 destrojdng whole beds of
cabbages, young legumes, and flowers. When dug
out they seem very slow and helpless, and make no
use of their wings by day ; but at night they come
abroad, and make long excursions, as I have been
convinced by finding stragglers, in a morning, in im-

131

probable places. In fine weather, about the middle
of April, and just at the close of day, they begin to
solace themselves with a low, dull, jarring note, con-
tinued for a long time without interruption, and not
unlike the chattering of the fern-owl, or goat-sucker,
but more inward.

About the beginning of May they lay their eggs,
as I was once an eye-witness : for a gardener at
a house where I was on a visit, happening to be
mowing, on the 6th of that month, by the side of a
canal, his scythe struck too deep, pared off a large
piece of turf, and laid open to view a curious scene
of domestic economy :

" — — — — ingentem lato dedit ore fenestram :
Apparet domus intus, et atria longa patescunt :
Apparent — — — penetralia."

(ViRG. ^n. ii. 481-483.)

"A yawning breach of monstrous size he made :
The inmost house is now to light displayed :
The admitted light with sudden lustre falls
On the long galleries and the splendid halls."

(Dryden.)

There were many caverns and winding passages
leading to a kind of chamber, neatly smoothed and
rounded, and about the size of a moderate snuff-box.
Within this secret nursery were deposited near a
hundred eggs of a dirty yellow colour, and en-
veloped in a tough skin, but too lately excluded to
contain any rudiments of young, being full of a

viscous substance. The eggs lay but shallow, and

132

within the influence of the sun, just under a little
heap of fresh-moved mould, like that which is 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 this king-
dom people call them fen-crickets, churr-worms, and
eve-churrs, all very apposite names.

Anatomists, who have examined the intestines of
these insects, astonish me with their accounts ; for
they say that, from the structure, position, and num-
ber of their stomachs, or maws, there seems to be
good reason to suppose that this and the two former
species ruminate or chew the cud like many quad-
rupeds!
Selborne.

LETTER XCI.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

It is now more than forty years that I have paid
some attention to the ornithology of this district,
without being able to exhaust the subject: new
occurrences still arise as long as any inquiries are
kept alive.

In the last week of last month five of those most
rare birds, too uncommon to have obtained an Eng-
lish name, but known to naturalists by the terms

133

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 suf-
fered the sixth to remain unmolested. One of
these specimens I procured, and found the length
of the legs to be so extraordinary, that, at first
sight, one might have supposed the shanks had
been fastened on to impose on the credulity of the
beholder: they were legs in caricatura ; and had we
seen such proportions on a Chinese or Japan screen
we should have made large allowances for the fancy
of the draughtsman. These birds are of the plover
family, and might with propriety be called the stilt
plovers. Brisson, under that idea, gives them the
apposite name of V^chasse. My specimen, when
drawn and stuffed with pepper, weighed only four
ounces and a quarter, though the naked part of the
thigh measured three inches and a half, and the legs
four inches and a half. Hence we may safely assert
that these birds exhibit, weight for inches, incom-
parably the greatest length of legs of any known
bird. The flamingo, for instance, is one of the most
long-legged birds, and yet it bears no manner of
proportion to the himantoptis ; for a cock flamingo
weighs, at an average, about four pounds avoirdu-

134

pois ; and his legs and thighs measure usually about
twenty inches. But four pounds are fifteen times
and a fraction more than four ounces and one quar-
ter; and if four ounces and a quarter have eight
inches of legs, four pounds must have one hundred
and twenty inches and a fraction of legs ; viz., some-
what more than ten feet ; such a monstrous propor-
tion as the world never saw ! If you should try the
experiment in still larger birds the disparity would
still increase. It must be matter of great curiosity
to see the stilt plover move ; to observe how it can
wield such a length of lever with such feeble mus-
cles as the thighs seem to be furnished with. At
best one should expect it to be but a bad walker:
but what adds to the wonder is, that it has no back
toe. Now without that steady prop to support its
steps it must be liable, in speculation, to perpetual
vacillations, and seldom able to preserve the true
centre of gravity.

The old name of 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 cabi-
nets of the curious at Paris. Hasselquist says
that it migrates to Egypt in the autumn : and a
most accurate observer of nature has assured me

135

that he has found it on the banks of the streams in
Andalusia.

Our writers record it to have been found only
twice in Great Britain. From all these relations it
plainly appears that these long-legged plovers are
birds of South Europe, and rarely visit our island ;
and when they do are wanderers and stragglers, and
impelled to make so distant and northern an excur-
sion from motives or accidents for which we are not
able to account. One thing may fairly be deduced,
that these birds come over to us from the Continent,
since nobody can suppose that a species not noticed
once in an age, and of such a remarkable make, can
constantly breed unobserved in this kingdom.

Selborne, May 7, 1779.

LETTER XCII.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

The old Sussex tortoise, that I have mentioned to
you so often, is become my property. I dug it out
of its winter dormitory in March last, when it was
enough awakened to express its resentments by hiss-
ing ; and packing it in a box with earth, carried it
eighty miles in post-chaises. The rattle and hurry

of the journey so perfectly roused it that, when I

136

turned it out on a border, it walked twice down to
the bottom of my garden ; however, in the evening,
the weather being cold, it
buried itself in the loose
mould, and con-
tinues still con-
cealed.

A successor to Whitens tortoise in the garden at " The Wakes^"*

As it will be under my eye, I shall now have an
opportunity of enlarging my observations on its
mode of life, and propensities ; and perceive already
that towards the time of coming forth, it opens a
breathing-place in the ground near its head, requir-
ing, I conclude, a freer respiration as it becomes
more alive. This creature not only goes under the
earth from the middle of November to the middle of
April, but sleeps great part of the summer; for it

137

goes to bed in the longest days at four in the after-
noon, and often does not stir in the morning till late.
Besides, it retires to rest for every shower ; and
does not move at all on wet days.

When one reflects on the state of this strange
being, it is a matter of wonder to find that Provi-
dence should bestow such a profusion of days, such
a seeming waste of longevity, on a reptile that
appears to relish it so little as to squander more
than two-thirds of its existence in a joyless stupor,
and be lost to all sensation for months together in
the profoundest of slumbers.

While I was writing this letter, a moist and warm
afternoon, with the thermometer at fifty, brought
forth troops of shell-snails, and, at the same junc-
ture, the tortoise heaved up the mould and put
out his head ; and the next morning came forth,
as it were raised from the dead ; and walked about
till four in the afternoon. This was a curious coin-
cidence ! a very amusing occurrence ! to see such
a similarity of feelings between the two (fyepeoiKotl
for so the Greeks call both the shell-snail and the
tortoise.

Because we call '' the old family tortoise " an
abject reptile, we are too apt to undervalue his abili-
ties, and depreciate his powers of instinct. Yet he
is, as Mr. Pope says of his lord,

'• — — — Much too wise to walk into a well : "
138

and has so much discernment as not to fall down a
ha-ha: but to stop and withdraw from the brink
with the readiest precaution.

Though he loves warm weather, he avoids the
hot sun ; because his thick shell when once heated,
would, as the poet says of solid armour — " scald
with safety." He therefore spends the more sultry
hours under the umbrella of a large cabbage-leaf, or
amidst the waving forests of an asparagus-bed.

But as he avoids heat in the summer, so, in the
decline of the year, he improves the faint autumnal
beams by getting within the reflection of a fruit-
wall; and, though he never has read that planes
inclining to the horizon receive a greater share of
warmth, he inclines his shell, by tilting it against
the wall, to collect and admit every feeble ray.

Pitiable seems the condition of this poor embar-
rassed reptile : to be cased in a suit of ponderous
armour which he cannot lay aside ; to be imprisoned,
as it were, within his own shell, must preclude, we
should suppose, all activity and disposition for enter-
prise. Yet there is a season of the year (usually the
beginning of June) when his exertions are remark-
able. He then walks on tiptoe, and is stirring by
five in the morning; and, traversing the garden,
examines every wicket and interstice in the fences,
through w^hich he will escape if possible ; and often
has eluded the care of the gardener, and wandered
to some distant field. The motives that impel him

139

to undertake these rambles seem to be of the amor-
ous kind : his fancy then becomes intent on sexual
attachments, which transport him beyond his usual
gravity, and induce him to forget for a time his
ordinary solemn deportment.*

Summer birds are, this cold and backward spring,
unusually late : I have seen but one swallow yet.
This conformity with the weather convinces me more
and more that they sleep in the winter.

Selborne, April ix, 1780,

* " We think we see the worthy pastor," writes the late Mr. Brod-
erip, " looking down with the air of the melancholy Jaques on his
favourite, as those thoughts occur to him. It is very possible that
Cupid may have been bestriding the reptile. White's description looks
like the restlessness of passion : but the love of liberty, and not im-
probably an annual migratory impulse to search for fresh pasture, may
have been the prevailing motive. The tenacity of life with which the
testudinata are gifted is hardly credible. Rede's operations would have
been instant death to any more warm-blooded animal. He opened the
skull of a land tortoise, and removing every particle of brain, cleaned
the cavity out. It still groped its way about freely, for with the brain
its sight departed ; but it lived from November till May. After many
other equally cruel experiments, one November he cut off the head of a
large tortoise, and it lived for twenty-three days. But, retiring within
its shell, it has its privileges.

" The tortoise securely from danger does well
When he tucks up his head and his tail in his shell."

140

Burning an old hedge undet the Hanger,

LETTER XCIII.
To Thomas Pennant, Esq.

A PAIR of honey-buzzards — Buteo apivorus, Linn.,
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 situa-
tion, and brought down an Q^g, the only one in the
nest, which had been sat on for some time, and con-
tained the embryo of a young bird. The ^gg was
smaller, and not so round as those of the common
buzzard ; was dotted at each end with small red
spots, and surrounded in the middle with a broad
bloody zone.

The hen-bird was shot, and answered exactly to
Mr. Ray's description of that species ; had a black
cere, short thick legs, and a long tail. When on the
wing this species may be easily distinguished from
the common buzzard by its hawk-like appearance,
small head, wings not so blunt, and longer tail. This
specimen contained in its craw some limbs of frogs
and many grey snails without shells. The irides of
the eyes of this bird were of a beautiful bright yel-
low colour.

About the loth of July in the same summer a pair
141

of sparrow-hawks bred in an old crow's nest on a low

beech in the same hanger ; and as their brood, which

was numerous, began to grow

up, became so daring and

ravenous, that they were

a terror to all the dames

in the village that had

chickens or ducklings

under their care. A boy

climbed the tree, and found

the young so fledged that

they all escaped from him ;

but discovered that a good

house had been kept : the larder was well stored

with provisions ; for he brought down a young

blackbird, jay, and house-martin, all clean-picked,

and some half devoured. The old bird had been

observed to make sad havoc for some days among

the new-flown swallows and martins, which, being

but lately out of their nests, had not acquired those

powers and command of wing that enable them

when more mature to set such enemies at defiance.

A Jay.

142

LETTER XCIV.
To Thomas Pennant, Esq.

Every incident that occasions a renewal of our
correspondence will ever be pleasing and agreeable
to me.

As to the wild wood-pigeon, the cenas, or vinago,
of Ray, I am much of your mind ; and see no reason
for making it the origin of the common house-dove:
but suppose those that have advanced that opinion
may have been misled by another appellation, often
given to the cenas, which is that of stock-dove.

Unless the stock-dove in the winter varies greatly
in manners from itself in summer, no species seems
more unlikely to be domesticated, and to make a
house-dove. We very rarely see the latter settle on
trees at all, nor does it ever haunt the woods ; but
the former, as long as it stays with us — from Novem-
ber perhaps to February — lives the same wild life
with the ring-dove, Palumbiis 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
27 143

breed in that county. But why did not your cor-
respondent determine the place of its nidification,
whether on rocks, cliffs, or trees? If he was not an
adroit ornithologist I should doubt the fact, because
people with us perpetually confound the stock-dove
with the ring-dove.

For my own part I readily concur with you in
supposing that house-doves are derived from the
small blue-rock pigeon, Columba livia, for many rea-
sons. In the first place the wild stock-dove is mani-
festly larger than the common house-dove, against
the usual rule of domestication, which generally
enlarges the breed. Again, those two remarkable
black spots on the remiges of each wing of the stock-
dove, which are so characteristic of the species, would
not, one should think, be totally lost by its being re-
claimed ; but would often break out among its de-
scendants. But what is worth a hundred arguments
is, the instance you give in Sir Roger Mostyn's house-
doves in Caernarvonshire ; which, though tempted
by plenty of food and gentle treatment, can never be
prevailed on to inhabit their cote for any time ; but
as soon as they begin to breed, betake themselves to
the fastnesses of Ormshead, and deposit their young
in safety amidst the inaccessible caverns and preci-
pices of that stupendous promontory. "You may
drive nature out with a pitchfork, but she will always
return : "

" Naturam expellas furca . . . tamen usque recurret."
144

I have consulted a sportsman, now in his seventy-
eighth year, who tells me that fifty or sixty years
back, when the beechen woods were much more ex-
tensive than at present, the number of wood-pigeons
was astonishing ; that he has often killed near twenty
in a day ; and that with a long wild-fowl piece he has
shot seven or eight at a time on the wing as they
came wheeling over his head ; he moreover adds,
which I was not aware of, that often there were
among them little parties of small blue doves, which
he calls rockiers. The food of these numberless emi-
grants was beech-mast and some acorns ; and partic-
ularly barley, which they collected in the stubbles.
But of late years, since the vast increase of turnips,
that vegetable has furnished a great part of their sup-
port in hard weather ; and the holes they pick in
these roots greatly damage the crop. From this food
their flesh has contracted a rancidness which occa-
sions them to be rejected by nicer judges of eating,
who thought them before a delicate dish. They were
shot not only as they were feeding in the fields, and
especially in snowy weather, but also at the close of
the evening, by men who lay in ambush among the
woods and groves, to kill them as they came in to
roost. These are the principal circumstances relat-
ing to this wonderful internal migration, which with
us takes place towards the end of November, and
ceases early in the spring. Last winter we had in
Selborne high-wood about a hundred of these doves;

^45

but in former times the flocks were so vast, not only
with us but all the district round, that on mornings
and evenings they traversed the air, like rooks, in
strings, reaching for a mile together. When they
thus rendezvoused here by thousands, if they hap-
pened to 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 pur-
pose to add, that I had a relation in this neighbour-
hood who made it a practice, for a time, whenever
he could procure the eggs of a ring-dove, to place
them under a pair of doves that were sitting in his
own pigeon-house ; hoping thereby, if he could bring
about a coalition, to enlarge his breed, and teach his
own doves to beat out into the woods and to sup-
port themselves by mast ; the plan was plausible,
but something always interrupted the success ; for
though the birds were usually hatched, and some-
times grew to half their size, yet none ever arrived at
maturity. I myself have seen these foundlings in
their nest displaying a strange ferocity of nature, so
as scarcely to bear to be looked at, and snapping with
their bills by way of menace. In short, they always
died, perhaps from want of proper sustenance ; but
the owner thought that by their fierce and wild de-
meanour they frighted their foster-mothers, and so

were starved.

146

Virgil, as a familiar occurrence, by way of simile,
describes a dove haunting the cavern of a rock in
such engaging numbers, that I cannot refrain from
quoting the passage : —

" Qualis spelunca subito commota Columba,
Cui domus, et dulces latebroso in pumice nidi,
Fertul in arva volans, plausumque exterrita pennis
Dat tecto ingentem — mox aere lapsa quieto,
Radit iter liquidum, celeres neque commovet alas."
(ViRG. JEn. V. 213-217.)

" As when a dove her rocky hold forsakes,
Roused, in a fright her sounding wings she shakes ;
The cavern rings with clattering : — out she flies,
And leaves her callow care, and cleaves the skies ;
At first she flutters : — but at length she springs
To smoother flight, and shoots upon her wings."

(Dryden's Translation.)
Selborne, Nov. 30, 1780.

LETTER XCV.

To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

I HAVE now read your miscellanies through with
much care and satisfaction ; and am to return you
my best thanks for the honourable mention made in
them of me as a naturalist, which I wish I may
deserve.

In some former letters I expressed my suspicions

that many of the house-martins do not depart in the

winter far from this village. I therefore determined

147

to make some search about the south-east end of the
hill, where I imagined they might slumber out the
uncomfortable months of winter. But supposing
that the examination would be made to the best ad-
vantage in the spring, and observing that no martins
had appeared by the nth of April last, on that day I
employed some men to explore the shrubs and cavi-
ties of the suspected spot. The persons took pains,
but without any success ; however, a remarkable in-
cident occurred in the midst of our pursuit — while
the labourers were at work a house-martin, the first
that had been seen this year, came down the village
in the sight of several people, and went at once into
a nest, where it stayed a short time, and then flew
over the houses ; for some days after no martins
were observed, not till the i6th of April, and then
only a pair. Martins in general were remarkably
late this year.

"— — — —daffodils
That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty."

Selborne, Sept. 3, 1781.

148

LETTER XCVI.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

I HAVE just met with a circumstance respecting
swifts which furnishes an exception to the whole
tenor of my observations ever since I have bestowed
any attention on that species of hirundines. Our
swifts, in general, withdrew this year about the first,
day of August, all save one pair, which in two or
three days was reduced to a single bird. The per-
severance of this individual made me suspect that
the strongest of motives, that of an attachment to
her young, could alone occasion so late a stay. I
watched therefore till the 24th of August, and then
discovered that under the eaves of the church she
attended upon two young, which were fledged, and
now put out their white chins from a crevice. These
remained till the 27th, looking more alert every day,
and seeming to long to be on the wing. After this
day they were missing at once ; nor could I ever
observe them with their dam coursing round the
church in the act of learning to fly, as the first broods
evidently do. On the 31st I caused the eaves to be
searched ; but we found in the nest only two callow,
dead, stinking swifts, on which a second nest had
been formed. This double nest was full of the black
shining cases of the Hippoboscce hiriindinis.

The following remarks on this unusual incident
149

are obvious. The first is, that though it may be dis-.
agreeable to swifts to remain beyond the beginning
of August, yet that they can subsist longer is unde-
niable. The second is, that this uncommon event, as
it was owing to the loss of the first brood, so it cor-
roborates my former remark, that swifts breed regu-
larly but once ; since, was the contrary the case, the
occurrence above could neither be new nor rare.

P. S. — One swift was seen at Lyndon, in the
county of Rutland, in 1780, so late as the 3rd of
September.

Selborne, Sept. 9, 1 78 1.

LETTER XCVIL
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

As I have sometimes known you make inquiries
about several kinds of insects, I shall here send you
an account of one sort which I little expected to
have found in this kingdom. I have often observed
that one particular part of a vine growing on the
walls of my house was covered in the autumn with
a black dust-like appearance, on which the flies fed
eagerly ; and that the shoots and leaves thus affected
did not thrive ; nor did the fruit ripen. To this sub-
stance I applied my glasses; but could not discover
that it had anything to do with animal life, as I at

150

first expected : but, upon a closer examination be-
hind the larger boughs, we were surprised to find
that they were coated over with husky shells, from
whose sides proceeded a cotton-like substance, sur-
rounding a multitude of eggs. This curious and un-
common production put me upon recollecting what
I have heard and read concerning the Coccus vitis
viniferce of Linnaeus, which, in the south of Europe,
infests many vines, and is a horrid and loathsome
pest. As soon as I had turned to the accounts given
of this insect, I saw at once that it swarmed on my
vine ; and did not appear to have been at all checked
by the preceding winter, which had been uncommon-
ly severe.

Not being then at all aware that it had anything
to do with England, 1 was much inclined to think
that it came from Gibraltar among the many boxes
and packages of plants and birds which I had former-
ly received from thence ; and especially as the vine
infested grew immediately under my study window,
where I usually kept my specimens. True it is that
I had received nothing from thence for some years ;
but as insects are, we know, conveyed from one
country to another in a very unexpected manner,
and have a wonderful power of maintaining their
existence till they fall into a nidus proper for their
support and increase, I cannot but suspect still that
these cocci came to me originally from Andalusia.
Yet, all the while, candour obliges me to confess

151

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
observed, is a sea-port town, to which the coccus
might be conveyed by shipping.

As many of my readers may possibly never have
heard of this strange and unusual insect, I shall here
transcribe a passage from a natural history of Gi-
braltar, written by the Reverend John White, late
vicar of Blackburn in Lancashire, but not yet pub-
lished : —

'* In the year 1770 a vine which grew on the east
side of my house, and which had produced the finest
crops of grapes for years past, was suddenly over-
spread on all the woody branches with large lumps
of a white fibrous substance resembling spiders'
webs, or rather raw cotton. It was of a very clam-
my quality, sticking fast to everything that touched
it, and capable of being %pun 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 incumbrance. It remained all the summer,
still increasing, and loaded the woody and bearing

branches to a vast degree. I often pulled off great

152

quantities by handfuls: but it was so slimy and tena-
cious that it could by no means be cleared. The
grapes never filled to their natural perfection, but
turned watery and vapid. Upon perusing the works
afterwards of M. de Reaumur, I found this matter
perfectly described and accounted for. Those husky
shells, which I had observed, were no other than the
female coccus, from whose sides this cotton-like sub-
stance exudes, and serves as a covering and security
for their eggs."

To this account I think proper to add, that,
though the female cocci are stationary, and seldom
remove from the place to which they stick, yet the
male is a winged insect; and that the black dust
which I saw was undoubtedly the excrement of the
females, which is eaten by ants as well as flies.
Though the utmost severity of our winter did not
destroy these insects, yet the attention of the gar-
dener in a summer or two has entirely relieved my
vine from this filthy annoyance.

As we have remarked above that insects are often
conveyed from one country to another in a very un-
accountable manner, I shall here mention an emigra-
tion of small 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-

153

flies, which fell in these parts. Those that were
walking in the streets at that juncture found them-
selves covered with these insects, which settled also
on the hedges and gardens, blackening all the vege-
tables where they alighted. My annuals were dis-
coloured with them, and the stalks of a bed of onions
were quite coated over for six days after. These
armies were then, no doubt, in a state of emigration,
and shifting their quarters ; and might have come, as
far as we know, from the great hop-plantations of
Kent or Sussex, the wind being all that day in the
easterly quarter. They were observed at the same
time in great clouds about Farnham, and all along
the vale from Farnham to Alton.*

Selborne, March 9, 1775.

LETTER XCVIILf
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

When I happen to visit a family where gold and
silver fishes are kept in a glass bowl I am always
pleased with the occurrence, because it offers me an
opportunity of observing the actions and propensities

* For various methods by which several insects shift their quarters,
see Derham's " Physico-Theology."

f First published in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1786, under the
signature V.

154

A modern observer of nature.

of those beings with whom I can be little acquainted
in their natural state. Not long since I spent a fort-
night at the house of a friend where there was such a
vivarium, to which I paid no small attention, taking
every occasion to remark what passed within its
narrow limits. It was here that 1 first observed the
manner in which fishes die. i\s soon as the creature
sickens, the head sinks lower and lower, and it stands
as it were on its head ; till, getting weaker, and los-
ing all poise, the tail turns over, and at last it floats
on the surface of the water with its belly uppermost.
The reason why fishes, when dead, swim in that
manner is very obvious ; because, when the body is
no longer balanced by the fins of the belly, the broad
muscular back preponderates -by its own gravity,
and turns the belly uppermost, as lighter from its
being a cavity, and because it contains the swimming-
bladders, which contribute to render it buoyant.
Some that delight in gold and silver fishes have
adopted a notion that they need no aliment. True it
is that they will subsist for a long time without any
apparent food but what they can collect from pure
water frequently changed ; yet they must draw some
support from animalcula, and other nourishments
supplied by the water ; because, though they seem to
eat nothing, yet the consequences of eating often
drop from them. That they are best pleased with
such jejune diet may easily be confuted, since if you
toss them crumbs they will seize them with great

155

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 \\\m pmiice pcctorales ; but
it is with their strong muscular tails only that they
and all fishes shoot along with such inconceivable
rapidity. It has been said that the eyes of fishes are
immovable; but these apparently turn them forward
or backward in their sockets as their occasions re-
quire. They take little notice of a lighted candle,
though applied close to their heads, but 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 they are sleeping or not, be-
cause their eyes are always open. Nothing can be
more amusing than a glass bowl containing such
fishes : the double refractions of the glass and w^ater
represent them, when moving, in a shifting and
changeable variety of dimensions, shades, and col-
ours ; while the two mediums, assisted by the con-
cavo-convex shape of the vessel, magnify and distort
them vastly : not to mention that the introduction
of another element and its inhabitants into our par-
lours engages the fancy in a very agreeable manner.

156

Gold and silver fishes, though originally natives
of China and Japan, yet are become so well reconciled
to our climate as to thrive and multiply very fast in
our ponds and stews. Linnasus 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 pleas-
ant ; but in so complicated a way they become
whimsical and unnatural, and liable to the objection
due to him ** who loves to vary every single thing
prodigiously " —

" Qui variare cupit rem prodigialiter unam."

(HoR. Ars. Poet. 29.)

LETTER XCIX.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

I THINK I have observed before, that much the
most considerable part of the house-martins with-
draw from hence about the first week in October ; but
28 157

that some, the latter broods I am now convinced,
linger on till towards the middle of that month : and
that at times, once perhaps in two or three years, a
flight, for one day only, has shown itself in the first
week in November.

Having taken notice, in October 1780, that the
last flight was numerous, amounting perhaps to one
hundred and fifty, and that the season was soft and
still, I was resolved to pay uncommon attention to
those late birds : to find, if possible, where they
roosted, and to determine the precise time of their
retreat. The mode of life of these latter hirundines 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 even-
ings together, just at a quarter-past five in the after-
noon, they all scudded away in great haste towards
the south-east, and darted down among the low
shrubs above the cottages at the end of the hill.
This spot in many respects seems to be well calcu-
lated for their winter residence : for in many parts
it is as steep as the roof of any house, and therefore
secure from the annoyances of water ; and it is more-
over clothed with beechen shrubs, which, being

158

stunted and bitten by sheep, make the thickest
covert imaginable ; they are so entangled as to be
impervious to the smallest spaniel: besides, it is the
nature of underwood beech never to cast its leaf all
the winter; so that, with the leaves on the ground
and those on the twigs, no shelter can be more com-
plete. I watched them on to the 13th and 14th of
October, and found their evening retreat was exact
and uniform ; but after this they made no regular
appearance. Now and then a straggler was seen ;
and on the 22nd of October, in the morning, I ob-
served two over the village, and with them my
remarks for the season ended.

From all these circumstances put together, it is
more than probable that this lingering flight, at so
late a season of the year, never departed from the
island. Had they indulged me that autumn with a
November visit, as I much desired, I presume that,
with proper assistants, I should have settled the
matter past all doubt ; but though the 3rd of No-
vember was a sweet day, and in appearance exactly
suited to my wishes, yet not a martin was to be
seen ; and so I was forced reluctantly to give up the
pursuit.

I have only to add, that, were the bushes, which
cover some acres, and are not my own property, to
be grubbed and carefully examined, probably those
late broods, and perhaps the whole aggregate body
of the house-martins of this district, might be found

159

there, in different secret dormitories ; and that, so far
from withdrawing into warmer climes, it would ap-
pear that they never depart three hundred yards
from the village.

October lo, 1781.

LETTER C.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

They who write on natural history cannot too
frequently advert to instinct, that wonderful, but
limited faculty, which, in some instances,- raises the
brute creation as it were above reason, and in others
leaves them so far below it. Philosophers have de-
fined instinct to be that secret influence by which
every species is impelled naturally to pursue, at all
times, the same way or track, without any teaching
or example ; whereas reason, without instruction,
would lead them to do that by many methods which
instinct effects by one alone. Now this maxim must
be taken in a qualified sense ; for there are instances
in which instinct does vary and conform to the cir-
cumstances of place and convenience.

It has been remarked that every species of bird

has a mode of nidification peculiar to itself; so that a

schoolboy would at once pronounce on the sort of

nest before him. This is the case among fields and

woods, and wilds ; but in the villages round London,

160

where mosses and gossamer, and cotton from vege-
tables, are hardly to be found, the nest of the chaf-
finch has not that elegant finished appearance, nor is
it so beautifully studded with lichens, as in a more
rural district : and the wren is obliged to construct
its house with straws and dry grasses, which do not
give it that rotundity and compactness so remark-
able in the edifices of that little architect. Again,
the regular nest of the house-martin is hemispheric ;
but where a rafter, or a joist, or a cornice, may hap-
pen to stand in the way, the nest is so contrived as
to conform to the obstruction, and becomes fiat or-
oval, or compressed.

In the following instances instinct is perfectly
uniform and consistent. There are three creatures,
the squirrel, the field-mouse, and the bird called the
nut-hatch {Sitta Europcsa), which live much on hazel-
nuts ; and yet they open them each in a different
way. The first, after rasping off the small end, splits
the shell in two with his long fore-teeth, as a man
does with his knife ; the second nibbles a hole with
his teeth, as regular as if drilled with a wimble, and
yet so small that one would wonder how the kernel
can be extracted through it ; while the last picks an
irregular ragged hole with its bill : but as this artist
has no paws to hold the nut firm while he pierces it,
like an adroit workman, he fixes it, as it were in a
vice, in some cleft of a tree, or in some crevice :
when, standing over it, he perforates the stubborn

i6i

shell. We have often placed nuts in the chink of a
gate-post where nut-hatches have been known to
haunt, and have always found that those birds have
readily penetrated them. While at work they make
a rapping noise, that may be heard at a considerable
distance.

You that understand both the theory and prac-
tical part of music may best inform us why harmony
or melody should so strangely affect some men, as it
were by recollection, for days after a concert is over.
What I mean the following passage will explain : —

" Prashabebat porro vocibus humanis, instrumen-
tisque harmonicis musicam illam avium : non quod
alia quoque non delectaretur ; sed quod ex musica
humana relinqueretur in animo continens quasdam,
attentionemque et somnum conturbans agitatio ; dum
ascensus, exscensus, tenores, ac mutationes illas sono-
rum, et consonantiarum euntque, redeuntque per
phantasiam : — cum nihil tale relinqui possit ex modu-
lationibus avium, quse, quod non sunt perinde a nobis
imitabiles, non possunt perinde internam facultatem
commovere." — Gassendus.^

* " He preferred the music of birds to vocal and instrumental har-
mony, not that he did not take pleasure in any other, but because the
latter left in the mind some constant agitation, disturbing the sleep and
the attention ; whilst the several variations of sound and concord go and
return through the imagination ; whereas no such effect can be produced
by the modulation of birds, because, as they are not equally imi table by
us, they cannot equally excite the internal faculty." — Gassendus in the
Life of Peiresc.

162

This curious quotation strikes me much by so
well representing my own case, and by describing
what I have so often felt, but never could so well
express. When 1 hear fine music I am haunted with
passages therefrom night and day ; and especially at
first waking, which, by their importunity, give me
more uneasiness than pleasure : elegant lessons still
tease my imagination, and recur irresistibly to my
recollection at seasons, and even when I am desirous
of thinking of more serious matters.

LETTER CI.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

A RARE, and I think a new, little bird frequents
my garden, which I have great reason to think is the
pettichaps:* it is common in some parts of the king-
dom ; and I have received formerly several dead
specimens from Gibraltar. This bird much resem-
bles the white-throat, but has a more white or silvery
breast and belly ; is restless and active, like the willow-
wrens, and hops from bough to bough, examining
every part for food ; it also runs up the stems of the

* Lesser white-throat {Sylvia curruca, Temm.), and not the petti-
chaps ; the song is very sweet, and more perfect in its notes than that of
the white-throat: it is shy, wary, and even petulant in avoiding intruders.

163

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% hopping about on
the grass-plots and mown walks.

One of my neighbours, an intelligent and observ-
ing man, informs me, that, in the beginning of May,
and about ten minutes before eight o'clock in the
evening, he discovered a great cluster of house-
swallows, thirty at least, he supposes, perching on a
willow that hung over James Knight's upper-pond.
His attention was first drawn by the twittering of
these birds, which sat motionless in a row on the
bough, with their heads all one way, and, by their
weight, pressing down the twig so that it nearly
touched the water. In this situation he watched
them till he could see no longer. Repeated accounts
of this sort, in spring and fall, induce me greatly to
suspect that house-swallows have some strong attach-
ment to water, independent of the matter of food ;
and, though they may not retire into that element,
yet they may conceal themselves in the banks of
pools and rivers during the uncomfortable months of
winter.

One of the keepers of Wolmer Forest sent me a

peregrine-falcon, which he shot on the verge of that

district, as it was devouring a wood-pigeon. The

Falco peregrinus, or haggard falcon, is a noble species

of hawk seldom seen in the southern counties. In

164

the winter of 1767 one was killed in the neighbouring
parish of Farringdon, and sent by me to Mr. Pennant

A peregrine- falcon.

into North Wales.* Since that time I have met with
none till now. The specimen mentioned above was
in fine preservation, and not injured by the shot : it
measured forty-two inches from wing to wing, and
twenty-one from beak to tail, and weighed two
pounds and a half standard weight. This species is
very robust, and wonderfully formed for rapine : its
breast was plump and muscular ; its thighs long,
thick, and brawny ; and its legs remarkably short

* See my Tenth and Eleventh Letters, vol. i., pages 40 and 42.
165

and well set : the feet were armed with most for-
midable sharp, long talons : the eyelids and cere of
the bill were yellow ; but the irides of the eyes
dusky ; the beak was thick and hooked, and of a
dark colour, and had a jagged process near the end
of the upper mandible on each side : its tail, or train,
was short in proportion to the bulk of its body : yet
the wings, when closed, did not extend to the end oi
the train. From its large and fair proportions it
might be supposed to have been a female ; but I was
not permitted to cut open the specimen. For one of
the birds of prey, which are usually lean, this was
in high case : in its craw were many barley-corns,
which probably came from the crop of the wood-
pigeon, on which it was feeding when shot : for
voracious birds do not eat grain ; but, when devour-
ing their quarry, with undistinguishing vehemence
they swallow bones and feathers, and all matters,
indiscriminately. This falcon was probably driven
from the mountains of North Wales or Scotland,
where they are known to breed, by rigorous weather
and the deep snows that had lately fallen.

i66

LETTER CII.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

My near neighbour, a young gentleman in the
service of the East India Company, has brought
home a dog and a bitch of the Chinese breed from
Canton ; such as are fattened in that country for the
purpose of being eaten : they are about the size of
a moderate spaniel ; of a pale yellow colour, with
coarse bristling hairs on their backs ; sharp upright
ears, and peaked heads, which give them a very
fox-like appearance. Their hind legs are unusually
straight, without any bend at the hock or ham, to
such a degree as to give them an awkward gait
when they trot. When they are in motion, their
tails are curved high over their backs like those of
some hounds ; they have a bare place each on the
outside from the tip midway, that does not seem to
be matter ol accident, but is 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 the field, the bitch showed some disposition
for hunting, and dwelt on the scent of a covey of
partridges, till she sprung them, giving tongue all
the time. The dogs in South America are dumb;
but these bark much in a short thick manner, like

167

foxes ; and have a surly, savage demeanour like
their ancestors, which are not domesticated, but
bred up in sties, where they are fed for the table,
with rice-meal, and other farinaceous food. These
dogs having been taken on board as soon as weaned,
could not learn much from their dam ; yet they did
not relish flesh when they came to England. In the
islands of the Pacific Ocean the dogs are bred up on
vegetables, and would not eat flesh when offered
them by our circumnavigators.

We believe that all dogs, in a state of nature,
have sharp, upright, fox-like ears ; and that hanging
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 Obey are engraved with prick-ears,
like those from Canton. The Kamschatdales also
train the same sort of sharp-eared peak-nosed dogs
to draw their sledges ; as may be seen in an elegant
print engraved for Captain Cook's last voyage round
the world.

Now we are upon the subject of dogs, it may not

be impertinent to add, that spaniels, as all sportsmen

know, though they hunt partridges and pheasants

as it were by instinct, and with much delight and

alacrity, yet will hardly touch their bones when

offered as food ; nor will a mongrel dog of my own,

though he is remarkable for finding that sort of

i68

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 dog will flush woodcocks till inured
to the scent and trained to the sport, which they
then pursue with vehemence and transport ; but
then they will not touch their bones, but turn from
them with abhorrence, even when they are hungry.

Now, that dogs should not be fond of the bones
of such birds as they are not disposed to hunt is no
wonder; but why they reject, and do not care to
eat their natural game, is not so easily accounted
for, since the end of hunting seems to be, that the
chase pursued should be eaten. Dogs again will
not devour the more rancid water-fowls, nor indeed
the bones of any wild fowl ; nor will they touch the
fcetid bodies of birds that feed on offal and garbage :
and indeed there may be somewhat of providential
instinct in this circumstance of dislike ; for vultures,*
and kites, and ravens, and crows, &c. were intended
to be messmates with dogs over their carrion ; and
seem to be appointed by Nature as fellow-scaven-
gers to remove all cadaverous nuisances from the
face of the earth.
Selborne.

* Hasselquist, in his " Travels to the Levant," observes that the dogs
and vultures at Grand Cairo maintain such a friendly intercourse as to
bring up their young together in the same place.

169

LETTER cm.

To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

The fossil wood buried in the bogs of Wolmer
Forest is not yet all exhausted, for the peat-cutters
now and then stumble upon a log. I have just seen
a piece which was sent by a labourer of Oakhanger
to a carpenter of this village; this was the butt-end
of a small oak, about five feet long, and about five
inches in diameter. It had apparently been severed
from the ground by an axe, was very ponderous, and
as black as ebony. Upon asking the carpenter for
what purpose he had procured it, he told me that it
was to be sent to his brother, a joiner, at Farnham,
who was to make use of it in cabinet-work, by inlay-
ing it along with 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 out till lately. I am

assured now that it is the stone-curlew {Charadrius

cedicnemus). Some of them pass over or near my

house almost every evening after it is dark: from

the uplands of the hill and North field, away down

towards Dorton, where, among the streams and

meadows, they find a greater plenty of food. Birds

that fly by night are obliged to be noisy ; their notes

170

^

often repeated become signals or watch-words to
keep them together, that they may not stray or lose
each other in the dark.

The evening proceedings and manoeuvres of rooks
are curious and amusing in the autumn. Just before
dusk they return in long strings from the foraging
of the day, and rendezvous by thousands over Sel-
borne-down, where they wheel round in the air, and
sport, and dive, in a playful manner, all the while
exerting their voices, and making a loud cawing,
which, being blended and softened by the distance
that we at the village are below them, becomes a
confused noise or chiding; or rather a pleasing mur-
mur, very engaging to the imagination, and not un-
like the cry of a pack of hounds in hollow, echoing
woods ; or the rushing of the wind in tall trees, or
the tumbling of the tide upon a pebbly shore. When
this ceremony is over, with the last gleam of day,
they retire for the night to the deep beechen woods
of Tisted and Ropley. We remember a little girl
who, as she was going to bed, used to remark on
such an occurrence, in the true spirit of physico-
theology, that the rooks were saying their prayers ;
and yet this child was much too young to be aware
that the Scriptures have said of the Deity — that " He
feedeth the ravens who call upon Him."

29 171

LETTER CIV.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

In reading Dr. Huxham's Observationes de Aere,
&c., written at Plymouth, 1 find by those curious
and accurate remarks which contain an account of
the weather from the year 1727 to the year 1748, in-
clusive, that though there is frequent rain in that dis-
trict of Devonshire, yet the quantity falling is not
great ; and that some years it has been very small :
for in 1 73 1 the rain measured only 17^"^^. — 266'^°".
and in 1741, 20—354; and again in 1743 only 20 — 908.
Places near the sea have frequent scuds that keep
the atmosphere moist, yet do not reach far up into
the country ; making thus the maritime situations
appear wet, when the rain is not considerable. In
the wettest years at Plymouth, the Doctor measured
only once 36; and again once, viz. 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 frequent small rains keep
the air moist ; while heavy ones render it more dry,
by beating down the vapours. He is also of opin-
ion that the dingy, smoky appearance in the sky, in
very dry seasons, arises from the want of moisture
sufficient to let the light through, and render the
atmosphere transparent ; because he had observed

several bodies more diaphanous when wet than dry ;

172

and never recollected that the air had that look in
rainy seasons.

My friend, who lives just beyond the top of the
town, brought his three swivel guns to try them in
my outlet, with their muzzles towards the Hanger,
supposing that the report would have had a great
effect ; but the experiment did not answer his expec-
tation. He then removed them to the Alcove on the
Hanger ; when the sound, rushing along the Lythe
and Combwood, was very grand : but it was at the
Hermitage that the echoes and the repercussions
most delighted the hearers ; not only filling the
Lythe with the roar, as if all the beeches were
tearing up by the roots ; but, turning to the left,
they pervaded the vale above Combwood-ponds ;
and after a pause seemed to take up the crash again,
and to extend round Harteley-hangers, dying away
at last among the coppices and coverts of Wardle-
ham. It has been remarked before that this district
is an anaihoth, a place of responses or echoes, and
therefore proper for such experiments : we may far-
ther add that the pauses in echoes, when they cease
and yet are taken up again, like the pauses in music,
surprise the hearers, and have a fine effect on the
imagination.

The gentleman above mentioned has just fixed a
barometer in his parlour at Newton Valence. The
tube was first filled here (at Selborne) twice with
care, when the mercury agreed and stood exactly

173

with my own ; but, being filled again twice at New-
ton, the mercury stood, on account of the great ele-
vation of that house, three-tenths of an inch lower
than the barometers at this village, and so it con-
tinues to do, be the weight of the atmosphere what
it may. The plate of the barometer at Newton is
figured as low as 27 ; because in stormy weather the

mercury there will
sometimes descend
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 Selborne,
proves that Newton-
house must be three
hundred feet higher than that in which I am writ-
ing, instead of two hundred.

174

The tower of Selborne church.

It may not be impertinent to add, that the ba-
rometers at Selborne stand three-tenths of an inch
below the barometers at South Lambeth ; whence
we may conclude that the former place is about
three hundred feet higher than the latter ; and with
good reason, because the streams that rise with us
run into the Thames at Weybridge, and so to Lon-
don. Of course therefore there must be lower
ground all the way from Selborne to South Lam-
beth ; the distance between which, all the windings
and indentings of the streams considered, cannot be
less than a hundred miles.

LETTER CV.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

Since the weather of a district is undoubtedly
part of its natural history, I shall make no further
apology for the four following letters, which will
contain many particulars concerning some of the
great frosts, and a few respecting some very hot
summers, that have distinguished themselves from
the rest during the course of my observations.

As the frost in January 1768 was, for the small
time it lasted, the most severe that we had then
known for many years, and was remarkably injurious
to evergreens, some account of its rigour, and reason

175

of its ravages, may be useful, and not unacceptable
to persons that delight in planting and ornamenting ;
and may particularly become a work that professes
never to lose sight of utility.

For the last two or three days of the former year
there were considerable falls of snow, which lay deep
and uniform on the ground, without any drifting;
wrapping up the more humble vegetation in perfect
security. From the first day to the fifth of the new
year, more snow succeeded ; but from that day the
air became entirely clear ; and the heat of the sun
about noon had considerable influence in sheltered
situations.

It was in such an aspect that the snow on the
author's evergreens was melted every day, and
frozen intensely every night ; so that the laurus-
tines, bays, laurels, and arbutuses looked, in three or
four days, as if they had been burnt in the fire ;
while a neigbour's plantation of the same kind, in a
high cold situation, where the snow never melted
at all, remained uninjured.

From hence I would infer that it is the repeated
melting and freezing of the snow that is so fatal to
vegetation, rather than the severity of the cold.
Therefore it highly behoves every planter who
wishes to escape the cruel mortification of losing
in a few days the labour and hopes of years, to
bestir himself on such emergencies ; and, if his plan-
tations are small, to avail himself of mats, cloths,

176

peasehaum, straw, reeds, or any such covering-, for a
short time ; or, if his shrubberies are extensive, to
see that his people go about with prongs and forks,
and carefully dislodge the snow from the boughs:
since the naked foliage will shift much better for
itself than when the snow is partly melted and frozen
again.

It may perhaps appear at first like a paradox ;
but doubtless the more tender trees and shrubs
should never be planted in hot aspects ; not only for
the reason assigned above, but also because, thus
circumstanced, they are disposed to shoot earlier in
the spring, and to grow on later in the autumn, than
they would otherwise do, and so are sufferers by
lagging or early frosts. For this reason also, plants
from Siberia will hardly endure our climate : be-
cause, on the very first advances of spring, they
shoot away, and so are cut off by the severe nights
of March or April.

Dr. Fothergill and others have experienced the
same inconvenience with respect to the more tender
shrubs from North America ; which they therefore
plant under north walls. There should also, per-
haps, be a wall to the east, to defend them from the
piercing blasts from that quarter.

This observation might without any impropriety
be carried into animal life ; for discerning bee-mas-
ters now find that their hives should not in the win-
ter be exposed to the hot sun, because such unsea-

177

sonable warmth awakens the inhabitants too early
from their slumbers ; and, by putting their juices
into motion too soon, subjects them afterwards to
inconveniences when rigorous weather returns.

The coincidents attending this short but intense
frost, were, that the horses fell sick with an epidemic
distemper, which injured the wind of many, and
killed some ; that colds and coughs were general
among the human species ; that it froze under peo-
ple's beds for several nights ; that meat was frozen
so hard that it could not be spitted, and could not
be secured but in cellars ; that several redwings and
thrushes were killed by the frost; and that the
large titmouse continued to pull straws lengthwise
from the eaves of thatched houses and barns in a
most adroit manner, for a purpose that has been ex-
plained already.*

On the 3rd of January, Benjamin Martin's ther-
mometer within doors, in a close parlour where there
was no fire, fell in the night to 20, and on the 4th to
18, and on the 7th to 17!^, a degree of cold which
the owner never observed in the same situation ;
and he regrets much that he was not able at that
juncture to attend his instrument abroad. All this
time the wind continued north and north-east ; and
yet on the 8th roost-cocks, which had been silent,
began to sound their clarions, and crow with clam-

* See Letter LXI. to Mr. Pennant, vol. ii., p. 30.
178

our, as prognostic of milder weather ; moles also
began to heave and work, and a manifest thaw took
place. From the latter circumstance we may con-
clude that thaws often originate under ground from
warm vapours which arise ; else how should subter-
raneous animals receive such early intimations of
their approach ? Moreover, we have often observed
that cold seems to descend from above ; for, when
a thermometer hangs abroad in a frosty night, the
intervention of a cloud * shall immediately raise the
mercury ten degrees : and a clear sky shall again
compel it to descend to its former gage.

And here it may be proper to observe, on what
has been said above, that though frosts advance to
their utmost severity by somewhat of a regular gra-

* The cloud of vapour indicates increased radiation of heat and con-
sequent evaporation where it occurs ; as the clear sky is indicative of
their absence. The following figures represent the temperature in the
open air, at one foot and at two feet under ground, the top figures repre-
senting the months, those below, the mean average of each during the
ten years.

I

2

3

40.90

41-59
40.49

4

5

6

7

8

9

57-54
57-89
56.14

10

II

12

I ft.

2 ft.

Air.

40.07
41.03
38.2

39-4
40.1
38.1

46.47
46.25
46.57

53-"
52.01

53-34

60.02

58.47
60.45

62.85
61.71
63.40

61.80
61.26
61.28

51-13
52-79
49-35

46.05
47.28
42.89

41-13
42.83
38.14

It thus appears that the temperature at two feet below the surface
is 2° 33' higher than in the air in January ; i° 7' in February ; 0° 77' in
March ; 0° 25' in August ; i° 57' in September ; 2° 80' in October ; 3°
75' in November ; and 3° 84' in December. On the other hand, the
temperature is higher by 0° 21' in the open air in April ; 0° 98' in
May ; 1° 21' in June ; and 1° 12' in July.

179

dation, yet thaws do not usually come on by so
regular a declension of cold ; but often take place
immediately after intense freezing; as men in sick-
ness often mend at once from a paroxysm.

To the great credit of Portugal laurels and Amer-
ican junipers, be it remembered that they remained
untouched amidst the general havoc : hence men
should learn to ornament chiefly with such trees as
are able to withstand accidental severities, and not
subject themselves to the vexation of a loss which
may befall them, once, perhaps, in ten years, yet may
hardly be recovered through the whole course of
their lives.

As it afterwards appeared, the ilexes were much
injured, the cypresses were half destroyed, the ar-
butuses lingered on, but never recovered ; and the
bays, laurustines, and laurels were killed to the
ground, and the very wild hollies, in hot aspects,
were so much affected that they cast all their leaves.

By the 14th of January the snow was entirely

gone ; the turnips emerged not damaged at all, save

in sunny places ; the wheat looked delicate, and the

garden-plants were well preserved ; for snow is the

most kindly mantle that infant vegetation can be

wrapped in ; were it not for that friendly meteor, no

vegetable life could exist at all in northerly regions.

Yet in Sweden, the earth in April is not divested of

snow for more than a fortnight before the face of the

country is covered with flowers.

180

LETTER CVI.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

There were some circumstances attending the
remarkable frost in January 1776, so singular and
striking, that a short detail of them may not be un-
acceptable.

The most certain way to be exact will be to copy
the passages from my journal, which were taken from
time to time, as things occurred. But it may be
proper previously to remark, that the first week in
January was uncommonly wet, and drowned with
vast rains from every quarter : from whence it may
be inferred, as there is great reason to believe is the
case, that intense frosts seldom take place till the
earth is perfectly glutted and chilled with water ;^
and hence dry autumns are seldom followed by rig-
orous winters.

January yth. — Snow driving all the day, which
was followed by frost, sleet, and some snow, till the
1 2th, when a prodigious mass overwhelmed all the
works of men, drifting over the tops of the gates, and
filling the hollow lanes.

* The autumn preceding January 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.

181

On the 14th the writer was obliged to be much
abroad ; and thinks he never, before or since, has
encountered such rugged Siberian weather. Many
of the narrow roads were now filled above the tops
of the hedges ; through which the snow was driven
into most romantic and grotesque shapes, so striking
to the imagination as not to be seen without wonder
and pleasure. The poultry dared not stir out of their
roosting-places ; for cocks and hens are so dazzled
and confounded by the glare of snow that they would
soon perish without assistance. The hares also lay
sullenly in their seats, and would not move till com-
pelled by hunger ; being conscious, poor animals, that
the drifts and heaps treacherously betray their foot-
steps, and prove fatal to numbers of them.

From the 14th the snow continued to increase, and
began to stop the road-waggons and coaches, which
could no longer keep on their regular stages : more
especially on the western roads, where the fall ap-
pears to have been deeper than in the south. The
company at Bath, that wanted to attend the Queen's
birthday, were strangely incommoded : the carriages
of many persons, who got on their way to town from
Bath as far as Marlborough, after strange embarrass-
ments, here met with a ne phis ultra. The ladies
fretted, and offered large rewards to labourers if
they would shovel them a track to London : but the
relentless heaps of snow were too bulky to be re-
moved ; and so the i8th passed over, leaving the

182

company in very uncomfortable circumstances at the
Castle and other inns.

On the 20th the sun shone out for the first time
since the frost began ; a circumstance that has been

The tveather.

remarked on before as much in favour of vegetation.
All this time the cold was not very intense, for the
thermometer stood at 29, 28, 25, and thereabout: but
on the 2 1st it descended to 20. The birds now be-

183

gan to be in a very pitiable and starving condition.
Tamed by the season, skylarks settled in the streets
of towns, because they saw the ground was bare ;
rooks frequented dunghills close to houses; and
crows watched horses as they passed, and greedily
devoured what dropped from them ; hares now came
into the gardens, and, scraping away the snow, de-
voured such plants as they could find.

On the 22nd the author had occasion to go to
London through a sort of Laplandian scene, very
wild and grotesque indeed. But the metropolis itself
exhibited a still more singular appearance than the
country ; for, being bedded deep in snow, the pave-
ment of the streets could not be touched by the
wheels or the horses' feet, so that the carriages ran
about without the least noise. Such an exemption
from din and clatter was strange, but not pleasant ;
it seemed to convey an uncomfortable idea of deso-
lation :

" ipsa silentia terrent."

*' By silence terrified."

On the 27th much snow fell all day, and in the
evening the frost became very intense. At South
Lambeth, for the four following nights, the thermom-
eter fell to II, 7, 6, 6; and at Sel borne to 7, 6, 10;
and on the 31st of January, just before sunrise, with
rime on the trees and on the tube of the glass, the
quicksilver sank exactly to zero, being 32 degrees

below the freezing-point : but by eleven in the morn-

184

ing, though in the shade, it sprang up to i6|^* — a
most unusual degree of cold this for the south of
England ! During these four nights the cold was so
penetrating, that it occasioned ice in warm cham-
bers, and under beds ; and in the day, the wind was
so keen, that persons of robust constitutions could
scarcely endure to face it. The Thames was at once
frozen over both above and below bridge, so that
crowds ran about on the ice. The streets were now
strangely incumbered with snow, which crumbled
and trod dusty; and soon turning grey, resembled
bay-salt : what had fallen on the roofs was perfectly
dry, that, from first to last, it lay twenty-six days on
the houses in the city ; a longer time than had been
remembered by the oldest housekeepers living. Ac-
cording to all appearances, we might now have ex-
pected the continuance of this rigorous weather for
weeks to come, since every night increased in sever-
ity ; but behold, without any apparent cause, on the
1st of February, a thaw took place, and some rain
followed before night, making good the observation
above, that frosts often go off as it were at once, with-
out any gradual declension of cold. On the 2d of
February the thaw persisted ; and on the 3d swarms

* At Selborne the cold was greater than at any other place that the
author could hear of with certainty : though it was reported at the time,
that at a village in Kent, the thermometer fell two degrees below zero,
viz. 34 degrees below the freezing-point.

The thermometer used at Selborne was graduated by Benjamin
Martin.

185

of little insects were frisking and sporting in a court-
yard at South Lambeth, as if they had felt no frost.
Why the juices in the small bodies, and smaller limbs,
of such minute beings are not frozen, is a matter of
curious inquiry.

Severe frosts seem to be partial, or to run in cur-
rents ; for, at the same juncture, as the author was
informed by accurate correspondents, at Lyndon, in
the county of Rutland, the thermometer stood at 19 ;
at Blackburn, in Lancashire, at 19; and at Manches-
ter at 21, 20 and 18. Thus does some unknown cir-
cumstance strangely overbalance latitude, and render
the cold sometimes much greater in the southern
than in the northern parts of this kingdom.

The consequences of this severity were, that in
Hampshire, at the melting of the snow, the wheat
looked well, and the turnips came forth little injured.
The laurels and laurustines were somewhat damaged,
but only in hot aspects. No evergreens were quite
destroyed ; and not half the damage sustained that
befell in January 1768. Those laurels that were a
little scorched on the south side were perfectly un-
touched on their north sides. The care taken to
shake the snow day by day from the branches seemed
greatly to avail the author's evergreens. A neigh-
bour's laurel-hedge, in a high situation, and facing
to the north, was perfectly green and vigorous ; and
the Portugal laurels remained unhurt.

As to the birds; the thrushes and blackbirds
186

were mostly destroyed ; and the partridges were so
thinned by the weather and poachers, that few re-
mained to breed the following year.

LETTER CVII.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

As the frost in December 1784 was very extraor-
dinar}^ you, I trust, will not be displeased to hear
the particulars ; and especially when I promise to
say no more about the severities of winter after I
have finished this letter.

The first week in December was very wet, with
the barometer very low. On the 7th, with the ba-
rometer at 28 five-tenths, came on a vast snow, which
continued all that day and the next, and most part of
the following night ; so that by the morning of the
9th the works of men were quite overwhelmed, the
lanes filled so as to be impassable, and the ground
covered twelve or fifteen inches without any drift-
ing. In the evening of the 9th, the air began to be
so very sharp, that we thought it would be curious
to attend to the motions of a thermometer : we there-
fore hung out two, one made by Martin and one by
DoUond, 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 loth, in
30 187

the morning, the quicksilver of Dollond's glass was
down to half a degree below zero ; and that of Mar-
tin's, which was absurdly graduated only to four de-

The vicarage at Newton Valence.

grees above zero, sank quite into the brass guard of
the ball ; so that when the weather became most in-
teresting, this was useless. On the loth, at eleven at
night, though the air was perfectly still, Dollond's
glass went down to one degree below zero ! This
strange severity of the weather made me very desir-
ous to know what degree of cold there might be in
such an exalted and near situation as Newton. We
had therefore, on the morning of the loth, 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

i88

phenomena, in so elevated a region as two hundred
feet or more above my house. But, behold ! on the
loth, at eleven at night, it was down only to 17°, and
the next morning at 22°, when mine was at 10° ! We
were so disturbed at this unexpected reverse of com-
parative local cold, that we sent one of my glasses

up, thinking that of Mr. must, somehow, be

wrongly constructed. But, when the- instruments
came to be confronted, they went exactly together :
so that, for one night at least, the cold at Newton
was 18° less than at Selborne ; and, through the
whole frost, 10° or 12° ; indeed, when we came to
observe the consequences, we could readily credit
this; for all my laurustines, bays, ilexes, arbutuses,
cypresses, and even my Portugal laurels, and (which
occasions more regret) my fine sloping laurel-hedge,
were scorched up ; while, at Newton, the same trees
had not lost a leaf !

We had steady frost on to the 25th, when the ther-
mometer in the morning was down to 10° with us,
and at Newton only to 21°. Strong frost continued
till the 31st, when some tendency to thaw was ob-
served; and by the 3rd of January, 1785, the thaw
was confirmed, and some rain fell.

A circumstance that I must not omit, because it

was new to us, is, that on Friday, December the loth,

being bright sunshine, the air was full of icy spicules,

floating in all directions, like atoms in a sunbeam let

into a dark room. We thought them, at first, par-

189

tides 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 early information they gave us ; and hurried our
apples, pears, onions, &c., into the cellar, and warm
closets; while those who had not such warnings, or
neglected them, lost all their stores of roots and
fruits, and had their very bread and cheese frozen.

I must not omit to tell you, that, during those
two Siberian days, my parlour-cat was so electric,
that had a person stroked her, and been properly in-
sulated, the shock might have been given to a whole
circle of people.

I forgot to mention before, that, during the two
severe days, two men, who were tracking hares in
the snow, had their feet frozen ; and two others, who
were much better employed, had their fingers so
affected by the frost, while they were thrashing in a
barn, that a mortification followed, from which they
did not recover for many weeks.

This frost killed all the furze and most of the ivy,
and in many places stripped the hollies of all their
leaves. It came at a very early time of the year, be-
fore old November ended ; and yet may be allowed

from its effects to have exceeded any since 1739-40.

190

LETTER CVIII.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

As the effects of heat are seldom very remarkable
ill the northerly climate of England, where the sum-
mers are often so defective in warmth and sunshine
as not to ripen the fruits oi the earth so well as might
be wished, I shall be more concise in my account of
the intensity of a summer season, and so make a little
amends for the prolix account of the degrees of cold,
and the inconveniences that we suffered from some
late rigorous winters.

The summers of 1781 and 1783 were unusually

hot and dry ; to them therefore I shall turn back in

my journals, without recurring to any more distant

period. In the former of these years my peach and

nectarine trees suffered so much from the heat, that

the rind on the bodies were scalded and came off ;

since which the trees have been in a decaying state.

This may prove a hint to assiduous gardeners to

fence and shelter their wall-trees with mats or boards,

as they may easily do, because such annoyance is

seldom of long continuance. During that summer,

also, I observed that my apples were coddled, as it

were, on the trees ; so that they had no quickness

of flavour, and they did not keep in the winter. This

circumstance put me in mind of what I have heard

travellers assert, that they never ate a good apple, or

191

apricot, in the south of Europe, where the heats
are so great as to render the juices vapid and insipid.

The great pests of a garden are wasps, which
destroy all the finer fruits, just as they are coming
into perfection. In 178 1 we had none; in 1783 there
were myriads ; which would have devoured all the
produce of my garden, had not we set the boys to
take the nests ; we caught thousands with hazel-twigs
tipped with bird-lime : and have since employed the
boys to take and destroy the large breeding wasps in
the spring. Such expedients have a great effect on
these marauders, and will keep them under. Though
wasps do not abound but in hot summers, yet they
do not prevail then, as I have instanced in the two
years above mentioned.

In the sultry season of 1783, honey-dews were so
frequent as to deface and destroy the beauties of my
garden. My honeysuckles, which were one week the
most sweet and lovely objects that the eye could be-
hold, became, the next, the most loathsome ; being
enveloped in a viscous substance, and loaded with
black 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 mead-
ows, and gardens are drawn up in the day by a brisk
evaporation, and then in the night fall down again
with the dews, in which they are entangled ; that
the air is strongly scented, and therefore impregnated

with the particles of flowers in summer weather, our

192

senses will inform us ; and that this sweet clammy
substance is of the vegetable kind we may learn from
bees, to whom it is very grateful : we may also be
assured that it falls in the night, because it is always
first seen in still warm mornings.

On chalky and sandy soils, and in the hot villages
about London, the thermometer has been often ob-
served to mount as high as 83 or 84 ; but with us, in
this hilly and woody district, I have hardly ev^er seen
it exceed 80 ; nor does it often arrive at that pitch.
The reason, I conclude, is, that our dense clayey soil,
so much shaded by trees, is not so easily heated
through as those above mentioned : and besides, our
mountains cause currents of air and breezes ; and the
vast evaporation from our woodlands tempers and
moderates our heats.

LETTER CIX.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

The summer of the year 1783 was an amazing
and a portentous one, and full of horrible phenom-
ena ; for, besides the alarming meteors and tremen-
dous thunderstorms that affrighted and distressed
the different counties of this kingdom, the peculiar
haze, or smoky fog, that prevailed for many weeks
in this island, and in every part of Europe, and even

193

beyond its limits, was a most extraordinary appear-
ance, unlike anything known within the memory of
man. By my journal I find that I had noticed this
strange occurrence from June 23 to July 20 inclu-
sive, during which period the wind varied to every
quarter without making any alteration in the air.
The sun, at noon, looked as blank as a clouded
moon, and shed a rust-coloured, ferruginous light
on the ground, and floors of rooms ; but was par-
ticularly lurid and blood-coloured at rising and set-
ting. All the time the heat was so intense, that
butchers' meat could hardly be eaten on the day
after it was killed ; and the flies swarmed so in the
lanes and hedges that they rendered the horses
half frantic, and riding irksome. The country peo-
ple began to look with a superstitious awe at the
red louring aspect of the sun ; and indeed there
was reason for the most enlightened person to be
apprehensive ; for, all the while Calabria and part
of the isle of Sicily, were torn and convulsed with
earthquakes ; and about that juncture a volcano
sprung out of the sea on the coast of Norway. On
this occasion Milton's noble simile of the sun, in his
first book of " Paradise Lost," frequently occurred
to my mind ; and it is indeed particularly applica-
ble, because, towards the end, it alludes to a super-
stitious kind of dread, with which the minds of
men are always impressed by such strange and un-
usual phenomena.

194

As when the sun, new risen,

Looks through the horizontal, misty air,
Shorn of his beams ; or fi-om behind the moon,
In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds
On half the nations, and with fear of change
Perplexes monarchs "

LETTER ex.
To THE Honourable Daines Barrington.

We are very seldom annoyed with thunder-
storms ; and it is no less remarkable than true, that
those which arise in the south have hardly been
known to reach this village ; for, before they get
over us, they take a direction to the east, or to the
west, or sometimes divide into two, and go in part to
one of those quarters, and in part to the other ; as
was truly the case in the summer of 1783, when,
though the country round was continually harassed
with tempests, and often from the south ; yet we
escaped them all, as appears by my journal of that
summer.* The only way that I can at all account

* Storms. — To this awful summer of 1783, Cowper also alludes in his
" Task," book ii. p. 41 : —

" A world that seems . •

To toll the death-bell of its own decease ;
And by the voice of all the elements
To preach the general doom."

195

for this fact — for such it is — is that on that quarter
between us and the sea there are continual moun-
tains, hill behind hill, such as Nore-hill, the Barnet,
Butser-hill, and Ports-down, which somehow divert
the storms, and give them a different direction.
High promontories and elevated grounds have al-
ways been observed to attract clouds, and disarm
them of their mischievous contents, which are dis-
charged into the trees and summits as soon as they
come in contact with those turbulent meteors ; while
the humble vales escape, because they are so far be-
neath them.

But when I say I do not remember a thunder-
storm from the south, I do not mean that we never
have suffered from thunderstorms at all ; for on June
5th, 1784, the thermometer in the morning being at
64°, and at noon at 70°, the barometer at 29° — six-
tenths one-half, and the wind north, I observed a
blue mist, smelling strongly of sulphur, hanging
along our 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 gath-
ering of the clouds in the north ; which they who
were abroad assured me had something uncommon
in its appearance. At about a quarter after two, the
storm began in the parish of Hartley, moving slowly
from north to south ; and from thence it came over
Norton-farm, and so to Grange-farm, both in this

parish. It began with vast drops of rain, which were

196

soon succeeded by round hail, and then by convex
pieces of ice, which measured three inches in girth.
Had it been as extensive as it was violent, and of
any continuance (for it was very short), it must have
ravaged all the neighbourhood. In the parish of
Hartley it did some damage to one farm ; but Nor-
ton, which lay in the centre of the storm, was greatly
injured ; as was Grange, which lay next to it. It did
but just reach to the middle of the village, where the
hail broke my north windows, and all my garden-
lights and hand-glasses, and many of my neighbours'
windows. The extent of the storm was about two
miles in length and one in breadth. We were just
sitting down to dinner ; but were soon diverted from
our repast by the clattering of tiles and the jingling
of glass. There fell at the same time prodigious
torrents of rain on the farms above mentioned,
which occasioned a flood as violent as it was sud-
den ; doing great damage to the meadows and fal-
lows, by deluging the one and washing away the
soil of the other. The hollow lane towards Alton
was so torn and disordered as not to be passable
till mended, rocks being removed that weighed two
hundred-weight. Those that saw the effect which
the great hail had on ponds and pools, say that the
dashing of the water made an extraordinary appear-
ance, the froth and spray standing up in the air three
feet above the surface. The rushing and roaring of

the hail as it approached was truly tremendous.

197

Though the clouds at South Lambeth, near Lon-
don, were at that juncture thin and light, and no
storm was in sight, nor within hearing, yet the air
was strongly electric; for the bells of an electric
machine at that place rang repeatedly, and fierce
sparks were discharged.

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 in my way to
be mentioned in my series of letters ; but as Mr.
Aikin of Warrington has published somewhat of this
sort, and as the length of my correspondence has
sufficiently put your patience to the test, I shall here
take a respectful leave of you and natural history
together ; and am.

With all due deference and regard,
Your most obliged.

And most humble Servant,

Gil. White.

Selborne, June 25, 1787.

198

NEW LETTERS.

THE INVITATION: TO SAMUEL BARKER.

Ne percuncteris, fundus meus, optime Quincti,
Arvo pascat herum, an baccis opulentet olivas,
Pomisne et pratis, an amicta vitibus ulmo :
Scribetur tibi forma loquaciter, et situs agri.

See, Selborne spreads her boldest beauties round,
The vary'd valley, and the mountain-ground
Wildly majestic : what is all the pride
Of fiats, with loads of ornament supply 'd ?
Unpleasing, tasteless, impotent expence,
Compar'd with Nature's rude magnificence.

Oft on some evening, sunny, soft, and still,

The Muse shall hand thee to the beech-grown hill,

To spend in tea the cool, refreshful hour.

Where nods in air the pensile, nest-like bower :

Or where the Hermit hangs his straw-clad cell,

Emerging gently from the leafy dell :

Romantic spot ! from whence in prospect lies

Whate'er of landscape charms our feasting eyes ;

199

The pointed spire, the hall, the pasture-plain,
The russet fallow, and the golden grain ;
The breezy lake that sheds a gleaming light,
'Til all the fading picture fails the sight.

Each to his task : all different ways retire ;
Cull the dry stick ; call forth the seeds of fire ;
Deep fix the nettle's props, a fork}^ row ;
Or give with fanning hat one breeze to blow.

Whence is this taste, the furnish'd hall forgot.
To feast in gardens, or th' unhandy grot?
Or novelty with some new charms surprises;
Or from our very shifts some joy arises.

Hark, while below the village bells ring round.
Echo, sweet Nymph, returns the soften'd sound :
But if gusts rise, the rushing forests roar,
Like the tide tumbling on the pebbly shore.
Adown the vale, in lone sequester'd nook.
Where skirting woods imbrown the dimpling brook.
The ruin'd Abbey lies: here wont to dwell *
The lazy monk within his cloister'd cell ;
While papal darkness brooded o'er the land ;
Ere Reformation made her glorious stand :
Still oft at eve belated shepherd-swains
See the cowl'd spectre skim the folded plains.

To the high Temple would my stranger go, f
Whose mountain-brow commands the groves below?

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

f The remains of a supposed lodge belonging to the Knights
Templars.

In Jewry first this order found a name,

When madding Croisades set the world in flame ;

When western climes, urg'd on by Pope and priest,

Pour'd forth their millions o'er the delug'd east:

Luxurious Knights, ill suited to defy

To mortal fight Turcestan chivalry.

Nor be the Parsonage by the Muse forgot :
The partial bard admires his native spot ;
Smit with its beauties lov'd, as yet a child.
Unconscious why, its 'scapes grotesque and wild:
High on a mound th' exalted gardens stand ;
Beneath, deep valleys scoop'd by Nature's hand !

Now climb the steep, drop now your eye below.
Where round the verdurous village orchards blow ;
There, like a picture, lies my lowly seat,
A rural, shelter'd, unobserv'd retreat.

Me, far above the rest, Selbornian scenes.
The pendent forest, and the mountain-greens.
Strike with delight : . . . there spreads the distant

view
That gradual fades, 'til sunk in misty blue :
Here Nature hangs her slopy woods to sight.
Rills purl between, and dart a wavy light.

When deep'ning shades obscure the face of day.
To yonder bench leaf-shelter'd let us stray.
To hear the drowzy dor come brushing by
With buzzing wing ; or the field-cricket cry ;
To see the feeding bat glance thro' the wood ;
Or catch the distant falling of the fiood :

While high in air, and poised upon his wings

Unseen, the soft enamour'd wood-lark sings : "^

These, Nature's works, the curious mind employ,

Inspire a soothing, melancholy joy :

As fancy warms a pleasing kind of pain

Steals o'er the cheek, and thrills the creeping vein !

Each rural sight, each sound, each smell com-
bine ;
The tinkling sheep-bell, or the breath of kine ;
The new-mown hay that scents the swelling breeze,
Or cottage-chimney smoking thro' the trees.

The chilling night-dews fall : . . . . away, retire.
What time the glow-worm lights her amorous fire, f

Selborne : Nov: 3 : 1774.

Dear Sam,

When I sat down to write to you in verse, my
whole design was to shew you at once how easy a
thing it might be with a little care for a Nephew to
excell his Uncle in the business of versification : but
as you have fully answered that intent by your late
excellent lines; you must for the future excuse my
replying in the same way, and make some allowance
for the difference of our ages.

* In hot summer nights woodlarks soar to a prodigious height, and
hang singing in the air.

f The light of the glow-worm is a signal to her paramour, a slender
dusky scarab.

202

However, when at any time you find y muse
propitious, I shall always rejoice to see a copy of
y"^ performance; and shall be ready to commend;
and what is more rare, yet more sincere, even to
object and criticize where there is occasion.

A little turn for English poetry is no doubt a
pretty accomplishment for a young Gent: and will
not only enable him the better to read and relish our
best poets ; but will, like dancing to the body, have
an happy influence even on his prose compositions.
Our best poets have been our best prose-writers : of
this assertion Dryden and Pope are notorious in-
stances. It would be in vain to think of saying
much here on the art of versification : instead of the
narrow limits of a letter such a subject would re-
quire a large volume. However, I may say in few
words, that the way to excell is to copy only from
our best writers. The great grace of poetry con-
sists in a perpetual variation of y cadences: if pos-
sible no two lines following ought to have their
pause at the same foot. Another beauty should not
be passed over, and that is the use of throwing the
sense and pause into the third Hue, which add a
dignity and freedom to y"" expressions. Dryden in-
troduced this practice, and carryed it to great per-
fection : but his successor Pope, by his over exact-
ness, corrected away that noble liberty, and almost
reduced every sentence within the narrow bounds

of a couplet. Alliteration, or the art of introducing
31 203

words beginning with the same letter in the same or
following line, has also a fine effect when managed
with discretion. Dryden and Pope practised this
art with wonderful success. As, for example, where
you say ''The polish'd beetle," . . the epithet "bur-
nish'd " would be better for the reason above. But
then you must avoid affectation in this case, and let
the alliteration slide-in as it were without design :
and this secret will make your lines appear bold and
nervous.

There are also in poetry allusions, similes, and a
thousand nameless graces, the efficacy of which noth-
ing can make you sensible of but the careful reading
of our best poets, and a nice and judicious applica-
tion of their beauties. I need not add that you
should be careful to seem not to take any pains
about y*" rhimes ; they should fall-in as it were of
themselves. Our old poets laboured as much for-
merly to lug-in two chiming words, as a butcher does
to drag an ox to be slaughtered : but Mr. Pope has
set such a pattern of ease in that way, that few com-
posers now are faulty in the business of rhiming.
When I have the pleasure of meeting you we will
talk over these and many other matters too copious
for an Epistle. I had like to have forgotten to add
that Jack copied your verses and sent them to y*"
Uncle John who commended them much : you will
be pleased to be commended by one that is the best

performer and the best critic in that way that I

204

know. With respects to your father and mother
and all the family,

I remain Y^" affect : Uncle, GiL : White.
Nanny White mends apace : she is still at New-
ton.

To Mrs. Barker.

Selborne : Dec : 25 : 78.

Dear Sister,

My Nep : Edm^ who is now at Newton, brings
a most sad account of his mother, whose state of
health is very deplorable, and her infirmities and
sufferings very great. As to our poor brother in
Lancashire, I have not heard from him for some
time : the last account was but bad.

Next week we expect at this place a great navi-
gator^ or rather navigatress, who within these 20
months has sailed 20,000 miles. The person alluded
to is Miss Shutter, Mrs. Etty's niece, who set out for
Madras in March, 1777 ; and returning to Europe
this autumn in the Carnatic India-man, was taken by
her own countrymen near the coast of France and
carried to the downs, and landed at Deal. This
Lady appears in great splendor ; and is, it is sup-
posed, to be married to a Gent : now on the seas in
his way from India. Bad fevers and sore throats
obtain much in these parts, and many children die.

A person at Harkley buryed three, his whole stock,

205

in one grave last Tuesday. When I was down at
Ringmer I found that district was sickly. Mrs. Sn :
wrote herself some time since, and did not complain
of any particular infirmities. My great parlor turns
out a fine warm winter-room, and affords a pleasant
equal warmth. In blustering weather the chimney
smokes a little 'til the shaft becomes hot. The chief
fault that I find is the strong echo, which, when
many people are talking, makes confusion to my
poor dull ears. Your money is disposed of among
poor neighbours. I have no doubt but that y"" son
will turn out a valuable young man ; and will be far
from being injured by a public education. " Omnes
omnia bona dicere, et laudare fortunas tuas, qui
filium haberes tali ingenio praeditum." With re-
spects and the good wishes of the season I remain
Your affect : brother,

Gil: White.

Dear Niece Anne,

After I had experienced the advantage of two

agreeable young house-keepers, I was much at a

loss when they left me ; and have nobody to make

whipp'd syllabubs, and grace the upper end of my

table. Molly and her father came again, and stayed

near a month, during which we made much use of

my great room : but they also have left me some

time. Whether they carryed-off any Ladies Traces I

206

cannot recollect : but it is easy to distinguish them
at this season ; for soon after they are out of bloom
they throw-out radical leaves, which abide all the
winter. The plant is rare ; but happens to abound
in the Long Lithe, and will be enumerated in the list
of more rare plants about Selborne. I wish we could
say we had y« Parnasia : I have sowed seeds in our
bogs several times, but to no purpose. Please to let
me know how many inches of rain fell in the late wet
fit, which lasted about 5 weeks. The springs from
being very low mounted-up to a vast rate ; and our
lavants at Faringdon began to appear last week. My
Bar'' is this evening at 30- 3 - 1O34, the air thick, and
warm, and still. Hepaticas and winter-aconites blos-
som ; and Helleborus foetidus in the High-wood, another
rare plant. The clouds are all gone ; and we may
expect frost.

We have here this winter a weekly concert con-
sisting of a first and second fiddle, two repianos, a
bassoon, an haut-boy, a violincello, and a German-
flute ; to the great annoyance of the neighbouring
pigs, which complain that their slumbers are inter-
rupted, and their teeth set on edge.

207

To Miss Anne Barker.

Selborne : Feb : t^th : 1785.

Dear Niece,

I was just thinking to write
to somebody in your family, when
your agreeable letter came in.

As the late frost was attended
with some unusual circumstances,
your father, I trust, will not be
displeased to hear the particulars.
The first week in Dec was very
wet, with the Barom'' very low.
On the 7th with the Bar: at 28 -
5 - 10 : there 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 rendered impassable, and the ground cov-
ered 12 or 14 inches where there was no drifting.
In the evening of the 9th the air began to be so
very sharp that we thought it would be curious to
attend to the motions of a Therms We therefore
hung out two, one made by Martin and one by
Dolland, w^hich soon began to shew us what we
were to expect. For by 10 o'clock they fell to 21 :

— and at 11^: to 4, when we went to bed. On the

208

RAIN AT

SELBORNE

IN

1784.

inc : h

Jan :

- 3: 18

Feb:

— 0 : 77

Mar:

-3:82

Apr :

— 3 : 92

May

— I :52

June

-3:65

July

— 2 : 40

Aug:

-3:88

Sepf

— 2 : 51

Ocf

— 0 : 39

Nov

— 4 : 70

Dec^

-3:6

Tota:

I 33 : 80

loth in the morning Dolland's glass was down to
half a degree below zero; and Martin's, which ab-
surdly was graduated only to 4 above zero, was
quite into the ball : so that when the weather be-
came most interesting, it was quite useless. On the
loth at eleven at night, tho' the air was perfectly
still, Dolland's glass went down to i degree below
zero ! This strange severity had made my Bro : and
me very desirous to know what degree of cold there
might be in such an exalted situation as Newton:
We had therefore on the morning of the loth written
to Mrs. Yalden, and entreated her to hang-out her
Therm"" made by Adams ; and to pay some attention
to it morning, and evening, expecting wonderful
doings in so elevated a region. But behold on the
loth, at II at Night it was down only to 19 ! and the
next morning at 22, when mine was at 10! We were
so disturbed at this unexpected reverse of comparative
local cold, that we sent one of my glasses up, think-
ing Mr. Y:'s must, some how be constructed wrong.
But when the instruments came to be confronted,
they went exactly together. So that for one night
at least, the cold at N : was 20 degrees less than at
S: and the whole frost thro' ten or twelve. And
indeed, when we came to observe consequences, we
could readily suppose it. For all my laurustines,
bays, Ilexis, and what is much worse my fine sloping
laurel-hedge, are all scorched up, and dead ! while at

Newton the same trees have not lost a leaf ! We

209

had steady frost on to the 25th when the therm"^ 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 Jan :
3rd : 1785 the thaw was confirmed, and some rain
fell. There was a circumstance that I must not omit,
because it was new to my brother and me ; which
was that on Friday, Dec loth, being bright sun-
shine, the air was full of icy spiculse, floating in all
directions, like atoms in a sun-beam let into a dark
room. We thought at first that they might have
been particles of the rime falling from my tall
hedges : but were soon convinced to the contrary
by making our observations in open places, where
no rime could reach us. Were they the watry
particles of the air frozen as they floated ; or were
they the evaporations from the snow frozen as they
mounted ? We were much obliged to the Therm"" for
y« early intimations that they gave us ; and hurryed
our apples, pears, onions, potatoes, &c., into the cel-
lar, and warm closets : while those, that had not
these warnings, lost all their stores, and had their
very bread and cheese frozen. For my own part,
having a house full of relations, I enjoyed the rigor-
ous season much ; and found full employ in shovel-
ing a path round my outlet, and up to Newton ; and
in observing the Therm^'S &c : and was only sorry
for the poor and aged, who suffered much. I must
not omit to tell you, that during those two Siberian

days my parlor-cat was so electric, when stroked,
that had the Stroker been properly insulated^ he
might have given the shock to a whole circle of
people. Bro : Tho : and family left us Jan : 5th.
The morning before he went away his house at S :
Lambeth was assaulted by three villains, one of
whom his Gardener shot thro' the body with slugs
from the parapet just as they were entering the
drawing-room. Mrs. and Miss Etty are well ; and
Charles just gone to attend his ship in the river,
which sails in March. Mr. Rich<^ Chase is released
from his 3 years and \ captivity in India, and is re-
turned to Madras. Magd : Coll : has just purchased
the little life-hold estate on the Plestor, in reversion
after two lives, intending hereafter to make it glebe
to the vicarage. Tell y Mother I thank her for her
gift, which will be very acceptable to the poor : and
y"" Father, that I should be glad to see his account of
rain, frost, &c. 1 advise y'" Father and Bro"" to read
S'^ John Cullun's History of Hawsted, the parish
where he is Rector. Mrs. J. White joins in respects.
Y"- loving Uncle, Gil : White.

Mr. Yalden, poor man, is in a bad state of health,
and is gone to town for advice. Ch : Etty's new ship
is named the Duke of Montrose, Cap : Elphinstone : all
the officers are Scotch except Ch : I have met with
Will: Bercariiis, which name signifies shepherd: hence
the modern name of Barker. Men are cutting the

beeches at the top of the hill ; but not those on the
hanger this year. We shall lose the beautiful fringe
that graces the outline of our prospect that way : but
shall gain 60 feet of Horizon. Jupiter wests so fast
that at sun-set he is not much above these trees.
Snow covers the ground.

To Thomas Barker, Esq.

Selborne, Jan: ist: 1791.

Dear Sir,

As the year 1790 is just at an end, I send you
the rain of that period, which, I trust, has been regu-
larly measured. Nov. and Dec. as
you see, were very wet, with many
storms, that in various places had oc-
casioned much damage. The fall of
rain from Nov. 19 to the 22, inclusive,
was prodigious ! The thunder storm
on Dec. 23 in the morning before day
was very aweful : but, I thank God, it
did not do us any the least harm.
Two millers, in a wind-mill on the
Sussex downs near Good-wood, were

struck dead by lio^htningf that morn-

3227
ing ; and part of the gibbet on Hind-
head, on which two murderers were suspended, was
beaten down. 1 am not sure that I was awaked

RAIN IN

1790.

Jan :

199

Feb:

40

Mar

45

Ap:

364

May

438

June

13

July

324

Aug.

230

Sept.

66

Oct.

210

Nov.

695

Dec.

594

soon enough to hear the whole storm : between the
flashes that I saw and the thunder, I counted from
ID to 14 seconds.

In consequence of my Nat. Hist. I continue to
receive various letters from various parts ; and in
particular from a Mr. Marsham of Stratton near Nor-
wich, an aged Gent : who has published in the R. S.
respecting the growth of trees. Do you know any
thing about this person ? He is an agreeable corre-
spondent. He is such an admirer of oaks, that
he has been twice to see the great oak in the
Holt.

D"*. Chander, and family, who came at first only
with an intent to stay with us a few months ; have
now taken the vicarage house for some time. The
Dr. is much busied in writing the life of his founder,
William Wainflete : he lives a very studious and do-
mestic life, keeps no horse, and visits few people.
We have just received the agreeable news that Mrs.
Clement was safely delivered, last Wednesday, of a
boy, her 8th child, which are all living. Mr. Chur-
ton, who is keeping his Xmas with us as usual, de-
sires his best respects, and many thanks for the
hospitable reception and intelligent information
which he met with last summer at Lyndon. He is a
good antiquary, and much employed in writing the
life of Doctor Will. Smith, the founder of Brazenose
Coll. of w^hich he is now the senior fellow.

Y^ leg, we hope, is recovered from its accident.
213

Mrs. J. White joins in affectionate compliments, and
the good wishes of the season. I conclude

Y"" most humble servant,

G. White.

. -Lv-i'

7' \. M.^,'..Jy-> iL

Selborne church seen from the fields.

214

A COMPARATIVE VIEW

OF THE

NATURALIST'S CALENDAR,

AS KEPT

AT SELBORNE, IN HAMPSHIRE,

BY THE LATE REV. GILBERT WHITE, M. A.,
AND

AT CATSFIELD, NEAR BATTLE, IN SUSSEX,
BY WILLIAM MARKWICK, ESQ., F. L. S.,

FROM THE YEAR 1 768 TO THE YEAR 1 793.

N. B. — The dates in the following Calendars,
when more than one, express the earliest and the
latest times in which the circumstance noted was
observed.

A COMPARATIVE VIEW OF

WHITE'S AND MARKVVICK'S CALENDAR.

Of the abbreviations used.y?. ^igni^e^ Jlowering ; I.
and ap. the first appearance.

leafing,

Redbreast {Sylvia rubeculd) sings

Larks {A lauda arvensis) congregate
Nuthatch (Sitta Europcea) heard
Winter aconite {Helleborus hieinalis) fl.
Shelless snail or slug {Lt'max) ap.
Gray wagtail {Motacilla boaruld) ap.
White wagtail (^Motacilla alba) ap.
Missel thrush {Turdus viscivorus) sings Jan. 2-14
Bearsfoot {Helleborus foetidtis) fl. Jan.

Polyanthus {Primula Polyantka) fl. Jan.

Double daisy {Bellis perennis plena) fl. Jan.

Mezereon (^Daphne mezereum) fl. Jan. 3.

Pansie {Viola tricolor) fl. Jan. 3

Red dead-nettle {Lamiutn purpureum) fl. Jan. 3-21
Groundsel (Senecio vulgaris) fl, Jan. 3-15

Hazel (Corylus aveland) fl. Jan. 3.

Hepatica {A netnone hepaticd) fl. Jan. 4.

Hedge sparrow (Sylvia modularis) sings Jan. 5-12
Common flies (Musca domesticd) seen in Jan. 5.

numbers
Greater titmouse {Parus major) sings
Thrush {Turdus mtisicus) sings
Insects swarm under sunny hedges
Piimrose {Primula vulgaris) fl.
Bees {Apis mellijica) ap.

Gnats play about

Chafiinches, male and female {Fringilla
ccelebs)^ seen in equal numbers I

Furze or gorse {Ulex Europceus) fl. j Jan

217

WHITE.

Jan. 1-12

Jan. i-i
Jan. i-i
Jan. I.
Jan. 2

Jan. 2-1

Feb. 18

"I

Feb. 14
Apr. 12
Feb. I
Feb. 16

Feb. 28
Feb. 18

Feb. 3

Jan. 6.

Feb.

6

Jan. 6-23

Jan. 6

Jan. 6.

Apr.

7

Jan. 6.

Mar.

19

Jan. 6.

Feb.

3

Jan. 6-11

Feb.

MARKWICK.

Jan. 3-31, and again

Oct. 6
Oct. 16.
Mar. 3.
Feb. 28.
Jan. 16.
Jan. 24.
Dec. 12.
Feb. 19.
Mar. I.
Jan. I.
Mar. 17.
Jan. 2,
Jan. I.
Jan. I.
Jan. I.
Jan. 21.
Jan. 17.
Jan. 16.
May 15

Feb. 17. Mar. 17
Jan. 15. Apr. 4

Jan. 3. Mar. 22
Jan. 31. Apr. u
last seen Dec. 30

Dec. 2. Feb. 3

Jan. I. Mar. 27

Feb. 9
Apr. ID
Apr. 17
May 31
Mar. 26
Feb. 23
Apr. 14
May 5

Apr. 9
Apr. 29

Apr. 4

May 10

Apr. 5

Apr. 9
Mar. II
Apr. 9
Mar. 13

Wallflower {Cheiranthus cheiri ; seu /ru-

ticulosus of Smith) fl.
Stock {Cheiranthus incanus) fl.
Entberiza alba (bunting) in great flocks
Linnets {Fringilla linota) congregate
Lambs begin to fall
Rooks {Corvus frugilegus) resort to their

nest trees
Black hellebore {Helleborus niger) fl.
Snowdrop {Galanthus nivalis) fl.
White dead nettle {Lamium album) fl.
Trumpet honeysuckle fl.
Common creeping crow-foot {Ranunculus

repens) fl.
House sparrow {Fringilla domestical chirps
Dandelion {Leontodon taraxacutn) fl.
Bat (Vesper tilio) ap.

Spiders shoot their webs
Butterfly ap.

Brambling {Fringilla monti/ringilla) ap.
Blackbird {Turdus merula) whistles
Wren {Sylvia troglodytes) sings
Earthworms lie out
Crocus {Crocus ziernus) fl.
Skylark {Alauda arvensis) sings

Ivy casts its leaves

Helleborus hiemalis fl.

Common dor or clock {Scarabceus sterco-

rarius)
Peziza acetabulum, ap.
Helleborus viridis fl.
Hazel {Corylus avellana) fl.
Woodlark {Alauda arboreal) sings
Chaffinch {Fringilla coelebs) sings
Jackdaws begin to come to churches
Yellow wagtail {Motacilla Jlavd) ap.

Honeysuckle {Lonicera periclymenum) 1.
Field or procumbent speedwell {Veronica

agrestis) fl.
Nettle butterfly {Papilio Urticce) ap.

White wagtail {Motacilla alba) chirps
Shell snail {Helix netnoralis) ap.
Earthworms engender

Barren strawberry {Fragaria sterilis) fl. j
Blue titmouse {Parus coeruleus) chirps |

2lJ

[ WHITE.

1 MARKWICK.

Jan. 8.

Apr

. I

Feb. 21. May 9

j Jan. 8-12

Feb. I. June 3

Jan. 9

Jan. 9

Jan. II

Jan. 9-1

Jan. 6. Feb. 21

Jan. ID.

Feb

. II

Jan. 23

Jan. ID

Apr. 27

Jan. ID.

Feb

5

Jan. 18. Mar. i

Jan. 13

Mar. 23. May 10

Jan. 13

Jan. 13

Apr. 10. May 12

Jan. 14

Feb. 17. May 9

Jan. 16.

Mar

II

Feb. I. Apr. 17

Jan. 16.

Mar

24

Feb. 6. June i, last
seen Nov. 20

Jan. 16

Jan. 16

Feb. 21. May 8, last
seen Dec. 22

Jan. 16

Jan. 10-31

Jan. 17

Feb. 15. May 13

Jan. 17

Feb. 7. June 12

Jan. 18.

Feb.

8

Jan. 13.

Mar.

18

Jan. 20. Mar. 19

Jan. 21

Jan. 12. Feb. 27,
sings till Nov. 13

Jan. 22

Jan. 22-24

Feb. 28. Apr. 17

Jan. 23

Feb. 12. Apr. 19,
last seen Nov. 24

Jan. 23

Jan. 23.

Mar.

5

Jan. 23.

Feb.

I

Jan. 27. Mar. 11

Jan. 24.

Feb.

21

Jan. 28. June 5

Jan. 24.

Feb.

15

Jan. 21. Feb. 26

Jan. 25.

Mar.

4

Jan. 25.

Apr.

14

Apr. 13. July 3, last
seen Sept. 8

Jan. 25

Jan. I. Apr. 9

Jan. 27.

Mar.

15

Feb. 12. Mar. 29

Jan. 27.

Apr.

2

Mar. 5. Apr. 24, last
seen June 6

Jan. 28

Mar. 16

Jan. 28.

Feb.

24

Apr, 2. June 11

Jan. 30

Feb. I.

Mar.

26

Jan. 13. Mar. 26

Feb. I

Apr. 27

Brown wood owls hoot

Hen {Phasianus gallus) sits

Marsh titmouse begins his two harsh sharp

notes
Gossamer floats
Muse a ten ax ap.
Larustine (Viburnum tinus) fl.
Butcher's broom {Rusctis aculeatus) fl.
Fox {Cants vulpes) smells rank

Turkey-cocks strut and gobble
Yellowhammer {Emberiza eitrinelld) sings
Brimstone butterfly (Papilio Rhamnt) ap.

Green woodpecker {Picus viridis) makes a

loud cry
Raven {Corvus Corax) builds

Yew tree {Taxus baccatd) fl.

Colesfoot (Tussilago far/ard) fl.

Rooks {Corvus /rugilegus) build

Partridges (Perdix cinered) pair

Peas {Pisunt sativum) sown

House pigeon {Columba domestica) has

young ones
Field crickets open their holes
Common flea {Pulex irritans) ap.
Pilewort (Ficaria vernd) fl.
Goldfinch {Fringilla carduelis) sings
Viper {Coluber berus) ap.

Woodlouse (Oniscus asellus) ap.

Missel thrushes pair

Daffodil {Narcissus pseudonarcissus) fl.

Willow {Salix alba) fl.

Frogs {Rana temporarid) croak

Sweet violet {Viola odorata) fl.

Phalcena Tinea vestianella ap.

Stone curlew {Otis oedicnemus) clamours

Filbert {Corylus sativus) fl.

Ring-dove coos

Apricot tree {Prunus armeniaca) fl.

Toad {Rana bufo) ap.

Frogs {Rana temporarid) spawn

WHITE.

MARKWICK.

Feb. 2

Feb. 3

Mar. 8 hatches

Feb. 3

Feb. 4.

Apr. I

Feb. 4.

Apr. 8

Feb.s

Jan. I. Apr. 5

Feb. 5

Jan. I. May 10

Feb. 7

May 19, young
brought forth.

Feb. lo

Feb. 12

Feb. 18. Apr. 28

Feb. 13.

Apr. 2

Feb. 13. Mar. 8
last seen Dec. 24

Feb. 13.

Mar. 23

Jan. I. Apr. 17

Feb. 14-

17

Apr. I, has young
ones June i

Feb. 14.

Mar. 27

Feb. 2. Apr, 11

Feb. 15.

Mar. 23

Feb. t8. Apr. 13

Feb. 16.

Mar. 6

Feb. 28. Mar. 5

Feb. 17

Feb. 16. Mar. 20

Feb. 17.

Mar. 8

Feb. 8. Mar. 31

Feb. 18

Feb. 8

Feb. 20. Mar. 30
Feb. 21-26
Feb. 21. Apr. 13
Feb. 21. Apr. 5
Feb. 22. Mar. 26

Feb. 23.
Feb. 24
Feb. 24.
Feb. 24.
Feb. 25
Feb. 26.
Feb. 26
Feb. 27.
Feb. 27
Feb. 27.
Feb.
Feb. 28.
Feb. 28.

Ivy-leaved speedwell {Veronica hederifo- Mar. i.

lia) fl.

Peach {A mygdalus Persica) fl. Mar. 2.

Frog {Rana tetnporaria) ap. Mar. 2.

Shepherd's purse ( Thlaspi bursa pastor is) fl. Mar. 3

Apr. I

Apr. 7
Apr. 2

Mar. 31

Apr. 24

Apr. 5

Mar. 24
Mar. 22

Apr. 2

Apr. 17
Apr. 6

Jan. 25. Mar. 26
Feb. 28. May 5
Feb. 23. May 6, last

seen Oct. 28
Apr. 27. June 17

Feb. 26. Apr. 18
Feb. 27. Apr. 11
Mar. 9. Apr. 20
Feb. 7. Apr. 5

June 17

Jan. 25. Mar. 26
Mar. 2. Aug. 10
Feb. 28. Apr. 5
Mar. 15. July i
Feb. 9. Apr. 10, tad-
poles Mar. 19
Feb. 16. Apr. 10

Mar. 4. Apr. 29
Mar. 9

Apr. i6

Jan. 2.

32

219

Pheasant {Phasianus Colchicus) crows
Land tortoise comes forth
Lungwort {Ptiltnonoria officinalis) fl.
Podura Jimetaria ap.
Aranea scenica saliens ap.
Scolopendra forficata ap.
Wryneck {Jynx torquilld) ap.

Goose {Anas anser) sits on its eggs
Duck {A nas boschas') lays
Dog's violet {Viola canina) fl.
Peacock butterfly {Papilio Id) ap.

Trouts begin to rise
Field beans {Vicia faba) planted
Bloodworms appear in the water
Crow {Corvus Corone) builds

Oats {A vena sativd) sown

Golden crowned wren {Sylvia regulus)

sings
Asp {Populus tremuld) fl.
Common elder {Sambucus nigra) 1.
Laurel {Prunus laurocerasus) fl.
Chrysomela Gotting. ap.
Black ants {Formica nigra) ap.
Ephemerce bisetce ap.
Gooseberry {Ribes grossularia) 1.
Common stitch wort {Stellar ia holostea) fl.
Wood anemone {A nemone netnorosa) fl.
Blackbird {Turdus Merula) lays

Raven {Corvus Corax) sits
Wheatear {Sylvia QLnanthe) ap.

Mush-wood crowfoot {Adoxa moschattel-

lina) fl.
Willow wren* {Sylvia trochilus) ap.

WHITE.

MARKWICK.

Mar. 3-29

Mar. I. May 22

Mar. 4.

Mays

Mar. 4.

Apr. 16

Mar. 2. May 19

Mar. 4

Mar. 4

Mar. 5-16

Mar. 5.

Apr. 25

Mar. 26. Apr. 23,
last seen Sept. 14

Mar. 5

Mar. 21

Mar. 5

Mar. 28

Mar. 6.

Apr. 18

Feb. 28. Apr. 22

Mar. 6

Feb. 13. Apr. 20,
last seen Dec. 25

Mar. 7-14

Mar. 8

Apr. 29 emerge

Mar. 8

Mar. ID

July I has young
ones

Mar. lo-i

8

Mar. 16. Apr. 13

Mar. 12.

Apr. 30

Apr. 15. May 22, seen
Dec. 23. Jan. 26

Mar. 12

Feb. 26. Mar. 28

Mar. 13-20

Jan. 24. Apr. 22

Mar. 15.

May 21

Apr. 2. May 27

Mar. 15

Mar. 15.

Apr. 22

Mar. 2. May 18

Mar. 16

Mar, 17.

Apr. II

Feb. 26. Apr. 9

Mar. 17.

May 19

Mar. 8. May 7

Mar. 17.

Apr. 22

Feb. 27. Apr. 10

Mar. 17

Apr. 14, young ones
May 19

Mar. 17

Apr. I builds

Mar. 18-30

Mar. 13. Maj' 23,

last seen Oct. 26

Mar. i8.

Apr. 13

Feb. 23. Apr. 28

Mar. 19.

Apr. 13

Mar. 30. May 16, sits
May 27, last seen
Oct. 23

* Willow Wren. — Mr. White has made strange confusion in the entries respecting
the wrens in his calendar. Three sorts were known to him, as he distinctly says m a
former passage: the Sylvia trochilus^ a yellow wren ; the Sylvia sibilatrix, or wood
wren ; the Sylvia hippolais.^ or chiff-chaff ; but he enters the separate appearance of
four such wrens in the Calendar, although there were not four species known in this
country, nor did he ever fancy that there were four. By reference to what he has said
in other places, it should seem that the chiff-chaff appears the first. Therefore, in the
entry, March 19th, we must read, instead of willow wren, Sylvia trochilus^ chiff-chaff,

220

Fumaria bulbosa fl.

Elm {Uimus campestris) fl.

Turkey {Meleagris gallopavo) lays

House pigeons {Columba domesticd) sit

Marsh marigold {Caltha palustris) fl.
Buzz-fly {Bombyh'us medius) ap.
Sand martin {Hirundo riparid) ap.

Snake {Coluber natrix) ap.

Horse ant {Formica herctdeand) ap.

Greenfinch {Lojcia chloris) sings
Ivy {Hedera helix) berries ripe
Periwinkle {Vinca minor) fl.
Spurge laurel {Daphne laureold) fl.
Swallow {Hirundo rustica) ap.

Blackcap {Sylvia atricapilla) heard

Young ducks hatched

Golden saxifrage (Chrysosplenium opposi-

ti/olium) fl.
Martin {Hirundo urbicd) ap.

Double hyacinth {Hyacinthus orientalis) fl
Young geese {Anas anser)
Wood sorrel {Oxalis acetoselld) fl.
Ring ouzel {Turdus torquatus) seen
Barley {Hordeum sativuiri) sown
Nightingale {Sylvia luscinia) sings

Ash {Fraxinus excelsior) fl.

Spiders' webs on the surface of the ground

Checquered daffodil {Fritillaria melea-

gris) fl.
Julus terrestris ap.
Cowslip {Primula veris) fl.
Ground ivy {Glecoma hederacea) fl.
Snipe pipes
Box tree {Buxus sempervirens) fl.

WHITE. 1

MARKWICK.

Mar. 19

Mar. 19.

Apr. 4

Feb. 17. Apr. 25

Mar. 19.

Apr. 7

Mar. 18-25, sits Apr.
4, young ones Apr.
30

Mar. 20

Mar. 20, young
hatched

Mar. 20.

Apr. 14

Mar. 22. May 8

Mar. 21.

Apr. 28

Mar. 15. Apr. 30

Mar. 21.

Apr. 12

Apr. 8. May 16,
last seen Sept. 8

Mar. 22-30

Mar. 3. Apr. 29,

last seen Oct. 2

Mar. 22.

Apr. 18

Feb. 4. Mar. 26, last
seen Nov. 1

Mar. 22.

Apr. 22

Mar. 6. Apr. 26

Mar. 23.

Apr. 14

Feb. 16. May 19

Mar. 25

Feb. 6. May 7

Mar. 25.

Apr. I

Apr. 12-22

Mar. 26.

Apr. 20

Apr. 7-27, last seen
Nov. 16

Mar. 26.

May 4

Apr. 14. May 18,
seen Apr. 14. May
20, last seen Sept.

Mar. 27

19
Apr. 6. May 16

Mar. 27.

Apr. 9

Feb. 7. Mar. 27

Mar. 28.

May I

Apr. 14. May 8, last
seen Dec. 8

Mar. 29.

Apr. 22

Mar. 13. Apr. 24

Mar. 29

Mar. 29. Apr. 19

Mar. 30.

Apr. 22

Feb. 25. Apr. 26

Mar. 30.

Apr. 17

Oct. II

Mar. 31.

Apr. 30

Apr. 12. May 20

Apr. I.

May I

Apr. 5. July 4, last
seen Aug. 29

Apr. I.

May 4

Apr. I

Mar. 16. May 8

Apr. 2-2^

Apr. 15. May i

Apr. 2

Apr. 3-24

Mar. 3. May 17

Apr. 3-15

Mar. 2. Apr. 16

Apr. 3

Apr. 3

Mar. 27. May 8

Sylvia hippolais. In page 208, Mr. White states this bird to be the chiff-chaff, and to
be usually heard on the 25th of March. — W. H.

221

Elm {Ulmus campestris) 1.
Gooseberry {Ribes grossularia) fl.
Currant {Ribes hortensis) fl.
Pear tree {Pyrus communis) fl.
Lacerta vulgaris (newt or eft) ap.

Dogs' mercury {Mercurialis perennis) fl.
Wych elm {Ulmus glabra seu montana of

Smith) fl.
Ladysmock (Cardamine pratensis) fl.
Cuckoo {Cuculus canorus) heard

Blackthorn {Prunus spinosa) fl.
Deathwatch {Termes pulsaiorius) beats
Gudgeon spawns
Redstart {Sylvia Pkeenicurus) ap.

Crown imperial {Fritallaria imperialist fl.
Titlark {Alauda pratensis) sings

Beech {Fagus sylvatica) 1.

Shellsnail {Helix nemoralis) comes out in

troops
Middle yellow wren * ap.
Swift {Hirundo apus) ap.
Stinging fly {Conops calcitrans) ap.
Whitlow grass {Draba verna) fl.
Larch tree {Pinus-larix rubra) 1.
Whitethroat {Sylvia cinerea) ap.

Red ant {Formica rubra) ap.
Mole cricket {Gryllus gryllotalpd) churs
Second willow or laughing wren t ap.
Red rattle {Pedicularis sylvatica) fl.
Common flesh-fly {Musca carnaria) ap.
Ladycow {Coccinella bipunctata) ap.
Grasshopper lark {Alauda locustce race) ap.
Willow wren,t its shivering note heard
Middle willow wren § {Regulus non crista-

tus medius) ap.
Wild cherry {Prunus cerasus) fl.
Garden cherry {Prunus cerasus) fl.

WHITE.

MARKWICK.

Apr. 3

Apr. 2. May 19

Apr. 3-14

Mar. 21. May i

Apr. 3-5

Mar. 24. Apr. 28

Apr. 3.

May 21

Mar. 30. Apr. 30

Apr. 4

Feb. 17. Apr. 15,
last seen Oct. 9

Apr. 5-19

Jan. 20. Apr. 16

Apr. 5

Apr. 19. May 10, i

Apr. 6-20

Feb. 21. Apr. 26

Apr. 7-26

Apr. 15. May 3, last
heard June 28

Apr. 7.

May ID

Mar. 16. May 8

Apr. 7

Mar. 28. May 28

Apr. 7

Apr. 8-28

Apr. 5, sings Apr. 25,
last seen Sept, 30

Apr. 8-24

Apr. I. May 13

Apr. 9-19

Apr. 14-29, sits June
1^27

Apr. ID.

May 8

Apr. 24. May 25

Apr. II.

May 9

May 17. June nap.

Apr. II

Apr. 13.

May 7

Apr. 28. May 19

Apr. 14.

May 17

Apr. 14

Jan 15. Mar. 24

Apr. 14

Apr. I. May 9

Apr. 14.

May 14

Apr. 14. May 5, sings
May 3-10, last seen
Sept. 23

Apr. 14

Apr. 9. June 26

Apr. 14

Apr. 14-19-23

Apr. 10. June 4

Apr. 15-ig

Apr. 15

Apr. 16

Apr. 16-3C

Apr. 17.

May 7

Apr. 28. May i

Apr. 17-27

Apr. 18.

May 12

Mar. 30. May 10

Apr. 18.

May II

Mar. 25. May 6

* Yellow wren {Sylvia trochilus). — W. H. Hay bird {Trochilus asilus, Rennie).
-J.R.

t Wood wren {Sylvia sibilatrix). — W. H. {Trochilus sibillans Rennie). — J. R.

X Wood wren. W. H.

§ Yellow wren {Sylvia trochilus). — W. H. Hay bird {Trochilus asilus Rennie).
-J.R.

222

Plum (Pr units domesticd) fl.

Harebell {Hyacinthus non-scriptus seu

Scilla nutans of Smith) fl.
Turtle (Columba turtur) coos

Hawthorn {Cratcegus seu Mespilus oxy-

cantha of Smith) fl.
Male fool's orchis (^Orchis masculd) fl.
Blue flesh fly {Musca votnitorid) ap.
Black snail or slug {Limax ater) abounds
Apple tree {Pyrus-vtalus sativus) fl.
Large bat ap.
Strawberry wild wood {Fragaria vesca

sylv.) fl.
Sauce alone {Erysimum alliaria) fl.
Wild or bird cherry {Prunus aviurn) fl.
Apis Hypnorum ap.
Musca vteridiana ap.
Wolf fly {Asilus) ap.

Cabbage butterfly {Papilio Brassicce) ap.
Dragon fly (Libelluld) ap.

Sycamore {Acer pseudoplaianus) fl.
Bombylius minor ap.
Glowworm {Lampyris noctiluca) shines
Fern owl or goatsucker {Caprimulgus Eu-

ropieus) ap.
Common bugle {Aj'uga reptans) fl.
Field crickets {Gryllus campestris) crink
Chafer or maybug {Scarabceus melolonthd)

ap.
Honeysuckle {Lonicera periclymenum) fl.
Toothwort {Lathraa squamaria) fl.
Shell snails copulate
Sedge warbler {Sylvia salicarid) sings
Mealy tree {Virburnum lantana) fl.
Flycatcher {Stoparola or Muscicapa gris-

ola) ap.
Apis longicornis ap.
Sedge warbler {Sylvia salicarid) ap.
Oak {Quercus robur) fl.
Admiral butterfly {Papilio Atalantd) ap.
Orange tip {Papilio cardamines) ap.
Beech {Fagus sylvatica) fl.
Common maple {Acer campesire) fl.
Barberry tree {Berberis vulgaris) fl.
Wood argus butterfly {Papilio ^Egeria) ap.
Orange lily {Lilium bulbiferunt) fl.
Burnet moth {Sphinx Filipenduld) ap.
Walnut {Juglans regia) 1.

223

WHITE.

MARKWICK.

Apr. 18.

Mays

Mar. 24.

May 6

Apr. 19-25

Mar. 27.

Mays

Apr. 20-27

May 14

Aug. ID,

seen

Apr. 20.

June II

Apr. 19.

May 26

Apr. 21

Mar. 29.

May 13

Apr, 21.

May 23

Apr. 22

Feb. I.

Oct. 24, ap.

Apr. 22.

May 25

Apr. II.

May 26

Apr. 22.

June II

Apr. 23-29

Apr. 8^

Apr. 23

Mar. 31.

May 8

Apr. 24

Mar. 30.

May 10

Apr. 24

Apr. 24.

May 28

Apr. 25

Apr. 28.

May 20

Apr. 29.

June IS

Apr. 30.

May 21

Apr. 18

May 13,

last seen Nov, 10

Apr. 30.

June 6

Apr. 20.

June 4

May I

May I.

June II

June 19.

Sept. 28

May 1-26

May 16.

Sept. 14

May I

Mar. 27.

May 10

May 2-24

May 2-26

May 2.

July 7

May 3-30

Apr. 24.

June 21

May 4-12

May 4.

June 17

May 4

June 2-30

May 5-17

Apr. 25.

May 22

May 10-30

Apr. 29.

May 21

May 10.

June 9

May ii-i:

5

Aug. 2

May 13-1^

Apr. 29.

June 4

May 14

Mar. 30.

May 19

May 15-26

Apr. 23.

May 28

May 16

Apr. 24.

May 27

May 17-26

Apr. 28.

June 4

May 17

May 18.

June II

June 14.

July 22

May 18.

June 13

May 24.

June 26

May 18

Apr. ID.

June I

Laburnum (jOytisus laburnum) fl.

Forest fly i^Hippobosca equina) ap.

Saintfoin {Hedysarum onobrychis) fl.

Peony {Pceonia officinalis) fl.

Horse chestnut {^sculus hippocasta-
num) fl.

Lilac {Syringa vulgaris) fl.

Columbine {Aguilegia vulgaris) fl.

Medlar {Mespilus germanica) fl.

Tormentil {Tormentilla erect a seu offici-
nalis of Smith) fl.

Lily of the valley {Convallaria maja-
lis) fl.

Bees {Apis mellificd) swarm

Woodroof (Asperula odorotd) fl.

Wasp, female {Vespa vulgaris) ap.

Mountain Ash (Sorbus seu Pyrus aucu-

paria of Smith) fl.
Bird's-nest orchis {Ophrys nidus avis) fl.
White-beam tree (Cratcegus seu Pyrus

aria of Smith) fl.
Milkwort {Polygala vulgaris) fl.
Dwarf cistus {Cistus helianthemum) fl.
Gelder rose {Virburnum opulus) fl.
Common elder {Sa?nbucus nigra) fl.
Cantharis noctiluca ap.
Apis longicornis bores holes in walks
Mulberry tree {Morus nigra) 1.
Wild service tree (Crat<pgus seu Pyrus tor-

minalis of Smith) fl.
Sanicle {Sanicula Europced) fl.
Avens {Geum urbanuvi) fl.
Female fool's orchis {Orchis morio) fl.
Ragged Robin {Lychnis flos cuculi) fl.
Burnet {Poteriuin sanguisorba) fl.
Foxglove {Digitalis purpurea) fl.
Corn flag {Gladiolus communis) fl.
Serapias longifol. fl.
Raspberry {Rubus idceus) fl.
Herb Robert (Geranium Robertianum) fl.
Figwort {Scrophularia nodosa) fl.
Gromwell {Lithospermum officinale) fl.
Wood spurge {Euphorbia amygdaloides) fl.
Ramsons {Allium ursinu7n) fl.
Mouse-ear scorpion grass {Myosotis scor-

pioides) fl.
Grasshopper {Gryllus grossus) ap.

Rose {Rosa hortensis) fl.

WHITE.

"' MARKWICK.

May i8.

June 5

May I.

June 23

May i8.

June 9

May 19.

Junes

May 21.

July 28

May 20.

June 15

Apr. 18.

May 26

May 21.

June 9

Apr. 19.

June 7

May 21

Apr. 15.

May 30

May 21-27

May 6.

June 13

May 21.

June 20

Apr. 8.

June 19

May 21

Apr. 17.

June II

May 22

Apr. 27.

June 13

May 22.

July 22

May 12.

June 23

May 22-25

Apr. 14.

June 4

May 23

Apr. 2.

June 4, last

seen Nov. 2

May 23.

June 8

Apr. 20.

June 8

May 24.

June II

May 18.

June 12

May 24.

June 4

May 3

May 24.

June 7

Apr. 13.

June 2

May 25

May 4.

Aug. 8

May 26

May ID.

June 8

May 26.

June 25

May 6.

June 17

May 26

May 27.

June 9

May 27.

June 13

May 20.

June II

May 27

May 13.

June 19

May 27.

June 13

Apr. 23.

June 4

May 28

May 9.

June II

May 28

Apr. 17.

May 20

May 29.

June 1

May 12.

June 8

May 29

Apr. 30.

Aug. 7

May 30.

June 22

May 23.

June 15

May 30.

June 20

June 9.

Julys

May 30.

June 13

May 30.

June 21

May ID.

June 16

May 30

Mar. 7.

May 16

May 31

May 12.

June 20

May 31

May 10-24

June I

Mar. 23.

May 13

June I

Apr. 21.

June 4

June I

Apr. II.

June I

June 1-14

Mar. 25.

July 6, last

seen Nov. 3

June 1-2

June 7.

July 1

224

Mouse-ear hawkweed {Hieracium pilo-

selld) fl.
Buckbean {Menyanthes trifoliatd) fl.
Rose chafer {Scarabceus auratus) ap.
Sheep {Ovis aries) shorn
Water flag {Iris pseudo-acorus) fl.
Cultivated rye {Secale cereale) fl.
Hounds tongue {Cynoglossum officinale) fl.
Helleborine {Serapias latifolid) fl.
Green gold fly (Musca Casar) ap.
Argus butterfly {Papilio moera) ap.
Spearwort {Ranunculus flammuia) fl.
Birdsfoot trefoil {Lotus corniculatus) fl,
Fraxinella or white dittany {Dictantnus

albus) fl.
Phryganea nigra ap.
Angler's may-fly {Ephemera vulg.) ap.
Ladies' finger {A nthyllis vulneraria) fl.
Bee orchis {Ophrys api/era) fl.
Vink {Diantkus deltoides') fl.
Mock orange {Philadeiphus coronarius) fl.
Libellula Virgo ap.
Vine {Vitis vinifera) fl.
Portugal laurel {Prunus Lusitanicus) fl.
Purple spotted martagon {Lilium rnarta-

gon) fl.
Meadow cranes-bill {Geranium pratense) fl.
Black bryony {Tamus communis') fl.
Field pea {Pisum sativum arvense) fl.
Bladder campion {Cucubalus behen seu

Silene in flat a of Smith) fl.
Bryony {Bryonia alba) fl.
Hedge nettle {Stachys sylvatica) fl.
Bittersweet {Solanum dulcamara) fl.
Walnut {Juglans regia) fl.
Phallus impudicus ap.
Rosebay willow-herb {Epilobiutn angusti-

/oliuni) fl.
Wheat {Triticum hybernum) fl.
Comfrey {Symphytum officinale) fl.
Yellow pimpernel {Lysimachia nemorum) fl.
Tremella nostac ap.
Buckthorn {Rhamnus catharticus) I.
Cuckow-spit insect {Cicada spumarid) ap.
Dog-rose (^d^i'a canina) fl.
Puff-ball {Lycoperdon bovista) ap.
Mullein {Verbascum thapsus) fl.
Viper's bugloss {Echium anglicum seu

vulgar e of Smith) fl.
Meadow hay cut

225

WHITE.

MARKWICK.

June I.

July 16

Apr, 19.

June 12

June I

Apr. 20.

June 8

June 2-8

Apr. 18.

Aug. 4

June 2-23

May 23.

June 17

June 2

Mays.

June 9

June 2

May 27

June 2

May II.

June 7

June 2.

Aug. 6

July 22.

Sept. 6

June 2

June 2

Junes

Apr. 25.

June 13

Junes

Apr. 10.

Junes

June 3-1 1

June 9.

July 24

Junes

June 3-14

June 4

June I.

Aug. 16

June 4.

July 4

June 5-19

May 26.

July 6

Junes

May 16.

June 23

June 5-20

June 7.

July 30

June 18.

July 29

June 8.

July I

June 3.

July 16

June 8-25

June 18.

July 19

June 8.

Aug. I

June 8

May 15.

June 21

June 9

May 15.

June 21

June 9

May 4.

July 13

June 9

May 13.

Aug. 17

June ID

May 28.

June 24

June II

May 15.

June 20

June 12

Apr. 18.

June I

June 12.

July 23

June 12

June 4.

■July 28

June 13.

July 22

June 4-30

June 13

May 4.

June 23

June 13-30

Apr. 10.

June 12

June 15.

Aug. 24

June 16

May 25

June t6

June 2-21

June 17, 18

May 24.

June 21

June 17.

Sept. 3

May 6.

Aug. 19

June 18

June ID.

July 22

June 19

May 27.

July 3

June 19. July

June 13. July 7

Stag beetle {Lucanus cervus) ap.
Borage {Borago officinalis) fl.
Spindle tree iJEuony7nus Europceus) fl.
Musk thistle {Carduus nutans) fl.
Dogwood {Cornus sanguinea) fl.
Field scabious {Scabiosa arvensis) fl.
Marsh thistle {Carduus palustris) fl.
Dropwort (Spircea filipendula) fl.
Great wild valerian {Valeriana officina-
lis) fl.
Quail {Perdix Coturnix) calls

Mountain willow herb {Epilodium monta-

num) fl.
Thistle upon thistle {Carduus crispus) fl.
Cow parsnip {Heracleum sphondylium) fl.
Earth-nut {Bunium bulbocastanutn seu

Jlexuosuni of Smith) fl.
Young frogs migrate
CEstrus curvicauda ap.
Vervain {Verbena officinalis) fl.
Corn poppy {Papaver Rhoeas) fl.
Self-heal {Prunella vulgaris) fl.
Agrimony {Agrimonia eupatoria) fl.
Great horse-fly {Tabanus bovinus) ap.
Greater knap)weed {Centaurea scabiosa) fl.
Mushroom {Agaricus cainpestris) ap.
Common mallow {Malva syh'estris) fl.
Dwarf mallow {Malva rotundifolid) fl.
St. John's wort {Hypericum perforatum) fl.
Broom rape {Orobanche major) fl.
Henbane (Hyoscyamus niger) fl.
Goats-beard ( Tragopogon pratense) fl.
Deadly nightshade {Atropa belladonna) fl.
Trufiles begin to be found
Young partridges fly
Lime tree ( Tilia Europeed) fl.
Spear thistle {Carduus lanceolatus) fl.
Meadow sweet {Spireea ulmaria) fl.
Greenweed {Genista tinctoria) fl.
Wild thyme {Thymus serpyllum) fl.
Stachys ger manic, fl.
Day lily (Hemerocallis Jla7>ci) fl.
Jasmine {Jasminum officinale) fl.
Holyoak {Alcea rosea) fl.
Monotropa hypopithys fl.
Ladies bedstraw {Galium veruni) fl.
Galium palustre fl.
Nipplewort {Lapsana communis) fl.
Welted thistle {Carduus acanthoides) fl.

WHITE.

- MARKWICK.

June 19

June 14-21

June 20

Apr. 22.

July 26

June 20

May II.

June 25

June 20.

July 4

June 4.

July 25

June 21

May 28.

June 27

June 21

June 16.

Aug. 14

June 21-27

May 15.

June 19

June 22.

July 9

May 8.

Sept. 3

June 22.

July 7

May 22.

July 21

June 22.

July 4

July 23
1-18

seen Sept

June 22

June 5-2

I

June 23-29

May 22.

July 22

June 23

May 27.

July 12

June 23

May 4-31

June 23.

Aug. 2

June 24

June 24

June ID.

July 17

June 24

Apr. 30.

July IS

June 24

June 7-23

June 24-29

June 7.

July 9

June 24.

Aug. 2

June 25

June 7.

Aug. 14

June 26.

Aug. 30

Apr. 16.

Aug. 16

June 26

May 27.

July 13

June 26

May 12.

July 30

June 26

June 15.

July 12

June 27.

July 4

May 9.

July 25

June 27

May 13.

June 19

June 27

June 5-1

4

June 27

May 22.

Aug. 14

June 28.

July 29

June 28.

July 31

July 8-28

June 28.

July 31

June 12.

July 30

June 28.

July 12

June 27.

July 18

June 28

June 16.

July 24

June 28

June 4.

July 24

June 28

June 6.

July 19

June 29.

July 20

June 29.

July 4

May 29.

June 9

June 29.

July 30

June 27.

July 21

June 29.

Aug. 4

July 4-

Sept. 7

June 29.

July 23

June 29

June 22.

Aug. 3

June 29

June 29

May 30.

July 24

June 29

226

Sneezewort {Achillea ptarmica) fl.
Musk mallow {Malva moschata) fl.
Pimpernel {Anagallis arvensis) fl.
Hoary beetle {Scarabceus solstii.) ap.
Corn saw-wort (Serratula arvensis seu

Carduus arvensis of Smith) fl.
Pheasant's eye (Adonis annua seu autum-

nalis of Smith) fl.
Red eyebright {Euphrasia seu Bartsia

odontites of Smith) fl.
Thorough wax {Bupleurum rotundifol.) fl.
Cockle {Agrostemma Githagd) fl.
Ivy-leaved wild lettuce {Prenanthes mu-

ralis) fl.
Feverfew {Matricaria seu Pyrethrum

parthenium of Smith) fl.
Wall pepper {Sedum acre) fl.
Privet {Ligustrum vulgare) fl.
Common toadflax(/i ntirrhinum linaria)^.
Perennial wild flax {Linum perenne) fl.
Whortle-berries ripe {Vaccinium ulig.)
Yellow base rocket {Reseda lutea) fl.
Blue-bottle {Centaurea cyanus) fl.
Dwarf carline thistle {Carduus acaulis) fl.
Bull-rush or cats-tail ( Typha latifolid) fl.
Spiked willow herb {Lythrum salicaria) fl.
Black mullein {Verbascum niger) fl.
Chrysanthemum coronarium fl.
Marigolds {Calendula officinalis) fl.
Little field madder {Sherardia arvensis) fl.
Calamint {Melissa seu Thymus calamin-

tha of Smith) fl.
Black horehound {Ballota nigra) fl.
Wood betony {Betonica officinalis) fl.
Round-leaved bell-flower {Campanula ro-

tundifolia) fl.
All-good (Chenopodium bonus Henricus) fl.
Wild carrot {Daucus carota) fl.
Indian cress {Epopceolum maj'us) fl.
Cat-mint {Nepeta cataria) fl.
Cow-wheat {Melampyrum. sylvaticum seu

pratense of Smith) fl.
Crosswort {Valantia cruciata seu Galium

cruciatum of Smith) fl.
Cranberries ripe
Tufted vetch {Vicia cracca) fl.
Wood vetch {Vicia syh'at.) fl.
Little throat-wort {Catnpanula glomera-

ta) fl.
Sheep's scabious {Jasione montana) fl.

WHITE.

MARKVJriCK.

June 30

June 22.

Aug. 3

June 30

June 9.

July 14

June 30

May 4.

June 22

June 30. July 17

July I

June 15.

July 15

July I

Apr. II.

July 15

Julys

June 20.

Aug. 10

June 2

July 2

May 14.

July 25

July 2

June 2.

July 25

July 2

June 19.

July 24

July 3

June S.

July 12

July 3

June 3.

July 13

Julys

June 21.

Aug. 3

July 4

Apr. 21.

July 6

July 4-24

Julys

July 19

Julys

May 15.

Oct. 14

July S-12

June 30.

Aug. 4

July 6

June 29.

July 21

July 6

June 24.

Aug. 17

July 6

July 6

May 28.

July 28

July 6-9

Apr. 20.

July 16

July/

Jan. II.

June 6

July?

July 21

July?

June 16.

Sept. 12

July 8-19

June ID.

July IS

Julys

June 12.

July 29

Julys

Apr. 21.

June IS

Julys

June 7.

July 14

July 8-20

June II.

July 2S

July 9

July 9

May 2.

June 22

July 9

Apr. 10.

May 28

July 9-27

July ID

May 31.

Julys

July 10

July II

July 28.

Aug. 18

July II

June 10.

July 2S

227

Pastinaca sylv. fl.

White lily {Liliutn candidum) fl.

Hemlock (Conium maculatunt) fl.

Caucalis antkriscus fl.

Flying ants ap.

Moneywort {Lysimachia nummularid) fl.

Scarlet martagon {Lilium Chalcedoni-

cum) fl.
Lesser stitchwort {Stellaria gramined) fl.
Fool's parsley {yEthusa cynapiuni) fl.
Dwarf elder {Sainbucus Ebulus) fl.
Swallows and martins congregate
Potato {Solanutn tuberosutti) fl.
A ngelica sylv. fl.
Digitalis ferrugin. fl.
Ragwort {Senecio jacobced) fl.
Golden rod {Solidago virgaured) fl.
Star thistle {Centaurea calciirapd) fl.
Tree primrose {Oenothera biennis^ fl.
Peas {Pisum sativum) cut
Galega ojfficin. fl.

Apricots {Prunus armeniacd) ripe
Clown's allheal {Stachys palustris) fl.
Branching Willow-herb {Epilobium ra-

mos) fl.
Rye harvest begins

Yellow centaury {Chlora perfoliatd) fl.
Yellow vetchling {Lathyrus aphacd) fl.
Enchanter's nightshade (Circcea luteti-

and) fl.
Water hemp agrimony {Eupatorium cait-

nabinu7ii) fl.
Giant throat-wort {Campanula tracheli-

um) fl.
Eyebright {Euphrasia officinalis) fl.
Hops {Hutnulus lupulus) fl.
Poultry moult
Dodder {Cusctita europcea seu epithytnum

of Smith) fl.
Lesser centaury {Gentiana seu Chironia

centaurium of Smith) fl.
Creeping water parsnip {Siutn nodijlo-

rum) fl.
Common spurrey {Spergula ar7>ensis) fl.
Wild clover ( Trifolium pratense) fl.
Buckwheat {Polygonutn fagopyrutti) fl.
Wheat harvest begins

Great bur-reed {Sparganium erectum) fl.
Marsh St. John's wort (Hypericum Elo-

des) fl.

228

WHITE.

MARKWICK.

July 12

July 12

June 21.

July 22

July 13

June 4.

July 20

July 13

July 13.

Aug. II

Aug. 20

Sept. 19

July 13

June 14.

Aug. 16

July 14.

Aug. 4

June 21.

Aug. 6

July 14

May 8.

June 23

July 14

June 9.

Aug. 9

July 14-29

July 14.

Aug. 29

Aug. 12.

Sept. 8

July 14

June 3.

July 12

July 15

July 15-25

July 15

June 22.

July 13

July 15

July 7.

Aug. 29

July 16

July 16.

Aug. 16

July 16

June 12.

July 18

July 17.

Aug. 14

July 13.

Aug. 15

July 17

July 17.

Aug. 21

July 5-

Aug. 16

July 17

June 12.

July 14

July 17

July 17.

Aug. 7

July 18.

Aug. 15

June 15.

Aug. 13

July 18

July 18

June 20.

July 27

July 18

July 4.

Aug. 6

July 19

July 13-

Aug. 14

July 19

May 28.

July 19

July 19.

Aug. ID

July 20.

Aug. 17

July 19

July 20

July 9-

Aug. 7

July 20

June 3.

July 19

July 20

July 10.

Sept. II

July 21

Apr. 10.

July 16

July 21

May 2.

June 7

July 21

June 27.

July 10

July 21.

Aug. 23

July II.

Aug. 26

July 22

June 10.

July 23

July 22-;

51

June 16

Aug. 10

Sun-dew {Drosera rottindifolid) fl.
March cinqiiefoil {Comarum palustre) fl.
Wild cherries ripe
Lancashire asphodel {A nthericutn ossi/ra-

gum) fl.
Hooded willow-herb {Scrutellaria galeri-

culatd) fl.
Water dropwort {CEnanthe Jistulos) fl.
Horehound {Marrubiuni vulg.) fl.
Seseii caruifol. fl.

Water plantain {A lisma plantago) fl.
Alopecurus jnyosuroides fl.
Virgin's bower {Clematis vitalba) fl.
Bees kill the drones
Teasel {Dipsacus sylvestris) fl.
Wild marjoram {Origanum, vulgare) fl.
Swifts {Hirundo apus) begin to depart
Small wild teasel (Dipsacus pilosus) fl.
Wood sage {Teucrium scorodonia) fl.
Everlasting pea {Lathyrus latifolius) fl.
Trailing St. John's wort {Hypericum hu-

mifusuni) fl.
White hellebore {Veratrum album) fl.
Camomile {A nthemis nobilis) fl.
Lesser field Scabious {Scabiosa columba-
ria^ fl.
Sunflower {Helianthus tnultijlorus) fl.
Yellow loosestrife {Lysimachia vulgaris) fl.
Swift {Hirundo apus) last seen
Oats {A vena saliva) cut
Barley {Hordeum sativum) cut
Lesser hooded willow-herb {Scutellaria

minor) fl.
Middle fleabane {Inula dysenterica) fl.
Apis manicata ap.
Swallow-tailed butterfly {Papilio machaon)

ap.
Whame or burrel fly {CEstrus bovis) lays

eggs on horses
Sow thistle {Sonchus arvensis) fl.
Plantain fritillary {Papilio cinxid) ap.
Yellow succory {Pier is hieracioides) fl.
Musca mystacea ap.

Canterbury bells {Campanula mediuni) fl.
Mentha longi/ol. fl.
Carline thistle {Carlina vulgaris) fl.
Venetian sumach {Rhus cotinus) fl.
Ptinus pectinicornus ap.
Burdock {Arctium lappa) fl.
Fell-wort (Gentiana amarelld) fl.

WHITE.

MARKWICK.

July 22

Aug. I

July 22

May 27.

July 12

July 22

July 22

June 21.

July 29

July 23

June 2.

July 31

July 23

July 23

July 24

July 24

May 31.

July 21

July 25

July 25. Aug. 9

July 13-

Aug. 14

July 25

July 26

July 16.

Aug. 3

July 26

July 17.

Aug. 29

July 27-29

Aug. 5

July 28, 29

July 28

June 17.

July 24

July 28

June 20.

July 30

July 29

May 20.

June 22

July 30

July 18-22

July 30

June 21.

Aug. 20

July 30

July 13.

Aug. 9

July 31. Aug. 6

July 4.

Aug. 22

July 31

July 2.

Aug. 7

July 31. Aug. 27

Aug. II

Aug. 1-16

July 26.

Aug. 19

Aug. 1-26

July 27.

Sept. 4

Aug. I

Aug. 8.

Sept. 7

Aug. 2

July 7-

Aug. 3

Aug. 2

Aug. 2

Apr. 20.

June 7, last

seen Aug. 28

Aug. 3-19

Aug. 3

June 17.

July 21

Aug. 3

Aug. 4

June 6-25

Aug. 5

June 5.

Aug. II

Aug. 5

Aug. 7

July 21.

Aug. 18

Aug. 7
Aug. 7

June 5.

July 20

Aug. 8

June 17.

Aug. 4

Aug. 8. Sept. 3

229

Wormwood (A rtemisia absinthiutti) fl,

Mugwort {Artemisia vulgaris) fl.

St. Barnaby's thistle (jCentaurea solsiit.) fl.

Meadow saffron {Colchicum autiunnale) fl.

Michaelmas daisy {Aster Tradescanti) fl.

Meadow rue {Thalictrum Jlavum) fl.

Sea holly {Eryngium marit.) fl.

China aster {Aster chinensis) fl.

Boletus albus ap.

Less Venus looking-glass {Caittpanula hy-

brida) fl.
Carthamus tinctor. fl.
Goldfinch {Fringilla carduelis) young

broods ap.
Lapwings {Tringa vanellus) congregate
Biack-eyed marble butterfly {Fapilio semele)

ap.
Birds reassume their spring notes
Devil's bit {Scabiosa succisd) fl.
Thistle down floats
Ploughman's spikenard {Conyza squar-

rosa) fl.
Autumnal dandelion {Leontodon autuni-

nale) fl.
Flies abound in windows
Linnets {Fringilla linota) congregate
Bulls make their shrill autumnal noise
Aster ainellus fl.
Balsam {Impatiens balsamina) fl.
Milk thistle {Carduus marianus) fl.
Hop-picking begins
Beech {Fagus sylvaticd) turns yellow
Soapwort {Saponaria officinalis) fl.
Ladies' traces {Ophrys spiralis) fl.
Small golden black-spotted butterfly {Pa-
pi lio phheas) ap.
Swallow {Hirundo rustled) sings
Althtea frtitex {Hibiscus syriacus) fl.
Great fritillary {Papilio paphid) ap.
Willow red under-wing moth {Phalcena

pacta) ap.
Stone curlew {Otis cedicnentus) clamours
Phcelana russula ap.
Grapes ripen
Wood owls hoot

Saffron butterfly {Papilio hyale) ap.
Ring ousel appears on its autumnal visit
Flycatcher {Muscicapa grisola) last seen
Beans {Vicia faba) cut
Ivy {Hedera helix) fl.

WHITE.

MARKWICK.

Aug. 8

July 22.

Aug. 21

Aug. 8

July 9.

Aug. 10

Aug. ID

Aug. ID.

Sept.

13

Aug. 15.

Sept. 29

Aug. 12.

Sept.

27

Aug. II.

Oct. 8

Aug. 14

Aug. 14

Aug. 14.

Sept.

28

Aug. 6.

Oct. 2

Aug. 14

May 10

Aug. 15

May 14

Aug. 15

Aug. 15

June 15

Aug. 15.

Sept.

12

Sept. 25.

Feb. 4

Aug. 15

Aug. 16

Aug. 17

June 22.

Aug. 23

Aug. 17.

Sept.

10

Aug. 18

Aug. 18

Aug.
Aug.
Aug.
Aug.
Aug.
Aug.
Aug.
Aug.
Aug.
Aug.
Aug.

Aug.

Aug.
Aug.
Aug.

Sept.
Sept.
Sept.
Sept.
Sept.
Sept.
Sept.
Sept.
Sept.

Nov.

July 25

Aug. 22. Nov. 8

May 22. July 26
Apr. 21. July 18

Sept. 17 Sept. 1-15

Sept. 22 I Sept. 5-29

I July 19. Aug. 23

Sept. 12 i Aug. 18. Sept. 18

29

30. Sept. 2

30

31

I

4-

4-

4

4-30

6-29

TI

12.

Nov. 7

Oct. 24
Nov. 9

Oct.

Apr. II. Aug. 20
July 20. Sept. 28

June 17

Aug. 31. Nov. 4

Aug. 5. Sept. 26

Sept. 4-30
Aug. 9. Oct. 14
Sept. 18. Oct. 28

230

Stares congregate

Wild honeysuckles fl. a second time

Woodlark sings

Woodcock {Scolopax rusticola) returns

Strawberry tree {^Arbutus unedd) fl.

Wheat sown

Swallows last seen. (N. B. The house

martin the latest)
Redwing {Turdus iliacus) comes

Fieldfare {Turdus pilaris) returns

Gossamer fills the air

Chinese holyoak (A/cea rosea) fl.

Hen chaffinches congregate

Wood pigeons come

Royston crow (Corvus comix) returns

Snipe {Scolopax gallinago) returns

Tortoise begins to bury himself

Rooks {Corvus frugilegus) return to their

nest trees
Bucks grunt

Primrose {Primula vulgaris) fl.
Green whistling plover ap.
Helve II a mitra ap.
Greenfinches flock
Hepatica fl.

Furze {Ulex europceus) fl.
Polyanthus {Primula polyantha) fl.
Young lambs dropped
Moles work in throwing up hillocks
Helleborus foetidus fl.
Daisy {Bellis perennis) fl.
Wallflower {Cheiranthus cheiri seu fruti-

culosus of Smith) fl.
Mezereon fl. %

Snowdrop fl.

WHITE.

Sept. 12. Nov. I
Sept. 25

Sept. 28. Oct. 24

Sept. 29. Nov. II

Oct. I

Oct. 3. Nov. 9

Oct. 4. Nov. 5

Oct. 10. Nov. 10

Oct. 12. Nov. 23

Oct. 15-27
Oct. 19

Oct. 20. Dec. 31
Oct. 23. Dec. 27
Oct. 23. Nov. 29

Oct. 25. Nov. 20

Oct. 27. Nov. 20
Oct. 31. Dec. 25

Nov. I

Nov. 10

Nov. 13, 14

Nov. 16

Nov. 27

Nov. 30. Dec. 29

Dec. 4-21

Dec. 7-16

Dec. 11-27

Dec. 12-23

Dec. 14-30

Dec. 15

Dec. 15

Dec. 15
Dec. 29

MARKWICK.

June 4. Mar. 21

Oct. I. Nov. I, young
ones Apr. 28, last
seen Apr. n

May 21. Dec. 10

Sept. 23. Oct. 19

Nov. 16

Oct. I. Dec. 18, sings
Feb. ID, Mar. 21,
last seen Apr. 13

Oct, 13. Nov. 18
last seen May i

July 7. Aug. 21

Oct. 13. Nov. 17,
last seen Apr. 15

Sept. 29. Nov. II,
last seen Apr. 14

June 20. Oct. 20

Oct. 7. Dec. 30

Feb. 19

Dec. 16-31

Dec. 31

Dec. 12. Feb. 21

Dec. 26-31
Nov. 5

IN SESE VERTITUR ANNUS
231

D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS.

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QH

1904
V.2

White, Gilbert

Natural history of
Selborne

At Medical

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