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Pl. I. To front the Title.

North East view of SELBORNE from the SHORT LYTHE.

Published [...] 1788, [...] by B White & Son

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THE NATURAL HISTORY AND ANTIQUITIES OF SELBORNE, IN THE COUNTY OF SOUTHAMPTON: WITH ENGRAVINGS, AND AN APPENDIX.

— "ego Apis Matinae
"More modoque
"Grata carpentis — per laborem
"Plurimum," —
HOR.

"Omnia benè deſcribere, quae in hoc mundo, a Deo facta, aut Naturae creatae viribus elaborata fuerunt, opus eſt non unius hominis, nec unius aevi. Hinc Faunae & Florae utiliſſimae; hinc Monographi praeſtantiſſimi."

SCOPOLI ANN. HIST. NAT.

LONDON: PRINTED BY T. BENSLEY; FOR B. WHITE AND SON, AT HORACE'S HEAD, FLEET STREET. M,DCC,LXXXIX.

ADVERTISEMENT.

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THE Author of the following Letters takes the liberty, with all proper deference, of laying before the public his idea of parochial hiſtory, which, he thinks, ought to conſiſt of natural productions and occurrences as well as antiquities. He is alſo of opinion that if ſtationary men would pay ſome attention to the diſtricts on which they reſide, and would publiſh their thoughts reſpecting the objects that ſurround them, from ſuch materials might be drawn the moſt complete county-hiſtories, which are ſtill wanting in ſeveral parts of this kingdom, and in particular in the county of Southampton.

And here he ſeizes the firſt opportunity, though a late one, of returning his moſt grateful acknowledgments to the reverend the Preſident and the reverend and worthy the Fellows of Magdalen College in the univerſity of Oxford, for their liberal behaviour in permitting their archives to be ſearched by a member of their own ſociety, ſo far as the [iv] evidences therein contained might reſpect the pariſh and priory of Selborne. To that gentleman alſo, and his aſſiſtant, whoſe labours and attention could only be equalled by the very kind manner in which they were beſtowed, many and great obligations are alſo due.

Of the authenticity of the documents above-mentioned there can be no doubt, ſince they conſiſt of the identical deeds and records that were removed to the College from the Priory at the time of it's diſſolution; and, being carefully copied on the ſpot, may be depended on as genuine; and, never having been made public before, may gratify the curioſity of the antiquary, as well as eſtabliſh the credit of the hiſtory.

If the writer ſhould at all appear to have induced any of his readers to pay a more ready attention to the wonders of the Creation, too frequently overlooked as common occurrences; or if he ſhould by any means, through his reſearches, have lent an helping hand towards the enlargement of the boundaries of hiſtorical and topographical knowledge; or if he ſhould have thrown ſome ſmall light upon ancient cuſtoms and manners, and eſpecially on thoſe that were monaſtic; his purpoſe will be fully anſwered. But if he ſhould not have been ſucceſsful in any of theſe his intentions, [v] yet there remains this conſolation behind—that theſe his purſuits, by keeping the body and mind employed, have, under Providence, contributed to much health and cheerfulneſs of ſpirits, even to old age: and, what ſtill adds to his happineſs, have led him to the knowledge of a circle of gentlemen whoſe intelligent communications, as they have afforded him much pleaſing information, ſo, could he flatter himſelf with a continuation of them, would they ever be deemed a matter of ſingular ſatisfaction and improvement.

GIL. WHITE.
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THE NATURAL HISTORY OF SELBORNE.

Figure 1. — where the Hermit hangs his straw-clad cell.

S. H. Grimm del. D. Lerpiniere sculp.

[...]
[...].
Homeri Odyſſ.
Tota denique noſtra illa aſpera, & montuoſa, & fidelis, & ſimplex, & fautrix ſuorum regio. Cicero Orat. pro Cn. Plancio.

THE NATURAL HISTORY OF SELBORNE.

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LETTER I. TO THOMAS PENNANT, ESQUIRE.

THE pariſh of SELBORNE lies in the extreme eaſtern corner of the county of Hampſhire, bordering on the county of Suſſex, and not far from the county of Surrey; is about fifty miles ſouth-weſt of London, in latitude 51, and near midway between the towns of Alton and Petersfield. Being very large and extenſive it abuts on twelve pariſhes, two of which are in Suſſex, viz. Trotton and Rogate. If you begin from the ſouth and proceed weſtward the adjacent pariſhes are Emſhot, Newton Valence, Faringdon, Harteley Mauduit, Great Ward le ham, Kingſley, Hedleigh, Bramſhot, Trotton, Rogate, Lyſſe, and Greatham. The ſoils of this diſtrict are almoſt as various and diverſified as the views and aſpects. The high part to the ſouth-weſt conſiſts of a vaſt hill of chalk, riſing three [2] hundred feet above the village; and is divided into a ſheep down, the high wood, and a long hanging wood called The Hanger. The covert of this eminence is altogether beech, the moſt lovely of all foreſt trees, whether we conſider it's ſmooth rind or bark, it's gloſſy foliage, or graceful pendulous boughs. The down, or ſheep-walk, is a pleaſing park-like ſpot, of about one mile by half that ſpace, jutting out on the verge of the hill-country, where it begins to break down into the plains, and commanding a very engaging view, being an aſſemblage of hill, dale, wood-lands, heath, and water. The proſpect is bounded to the ſouth-eaſt and eaſt by the vaſt range of mountains called The Suſſex Downs, by Guild-down near Guildford, and by the Downs round Dorking, and Ryegate in Surrey, to the north-eaſt, which altogether, with the country beyond Alton and Farnham, form a noble and extenſive outline.

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

The cart-way of the village divides, in a remarkable manner, two very incongruous ſoils. To the ſouth-weſt is a rank clay, that requires the labour of years to render it mellow; while the gardens to the north-eaſt, and ſmall encloſures behind, conſiſt of a [3] warm, forward, crumbling mould, called black malm, which ſeems highly ſaturated with vegetable and animal manure; and theſe may perhaps have been the original ſite of the town; while the woods and coverts might extend down to the oppoſite bank.

At each end of the village, which runs from ſouth-eaſt to north-weſt, ariſes a ſmall rivulet: that at the north-weſt end frequently fails; but the other is a fine perennial ſpring, little influenced by drought or wet ſeaſons, called Well-head a. This breaks out of ſome high grounds joining to Nore Hill, a noble chalk promontory, remarkable for ſending forth two ſtreams into two different ſeas. The one to the ſouth becomes a branch of the Arun, running to Arundel, and ſo falling into the Britiſh channel: the other to the north. The Selborne ſtream makes one branch of the Wey; and, meeting the Black-down ſtream at Hedleigh, and the Alton and Farnham ſtream at Tilford-bridge, ſwells into a conſiderable river, navigable at Godalming; from whence it paſſes to Guildford, and ſo into the Thames at Weybridge; and thus at the Nore into the German ocean.

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

To the north-weſt, north and eaſt of the village, is a range of fair encloſures, conſiſting of what is called a white malm, a ſort of [4] rotten or rubble ſtone, which, when turned up to the froſt and rain, moulders to pieces, and becomes manure to itſelfb.

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

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

LETTER II. TO THE SAME.

IN the court of Norton farm houſe, a manor farm to the north-weſt of the village, on the white malms, ſtood within theſe twenty years a broad-leaved elm, or wych hazel, ulmus folio latiſſimo ſcabro of Ray, which, though it had loſt a conſiderable leading [5] bough in the great ſtorm in the year 1703, equal to a moderate tree, yet, when felled, contained eight loads of timber; and, being too bulky for a carriage, was ſawn off at ſeven feet above the butt, where it meaſured near eight feet in the diameter. This elm I mention to ſhew to what a bulk planted elms may attain; as this tree muſt certainly have been ſuch from it's ſituation.

In the centre of the village, and near the church, is a ſquare piece of ground ſurrounded by houſes, and vulgarly called The Pleſtor c. In the midſt of this ſpot ſtood, in old times, a vaſt oak, with a ſhort ſquat body, and huge horizontal arms extending almoſt to the extremity of the area. This venerable tree, ſurrounded with ſtone ſteps, and ſeats above them, was the delight of old and young, and a place of much reſort in ſummer evenings; where the former ſat in grave debate, while the latter frolicked and danced before them. Long might it have ſtood, had not the amazing tempeſt in 1703 overturned it at once, to the infinite regret of the inhabitants, and the vicar, who beſtowed ſeveral pounds in ſetting it in it's place again: but all his care could not avail; the tree ſprouted for a time, then withered and died. This oak I mention to ſhew to what a bulk planted oaks alſo may arrive: and planted this tree muſt certainly have been, as will appear from what will be ſaid farther concerning this area, when we enter on the antiquities of Selborne.

On the Blackmoor eſtate there is a ſmall wood called Loſel's, of a few acres, that was lately furniſhed with a ſet of oaks of a peculiar growth and great value; they were tall and taper like firs, but ſtanding near together had very ſmall heads, only a little bruſh without any large limbs. About twenty years ago the [6] bridge at the Toy, near Hampton Court, being much decayed, ſome trees were wanted for the repairs that were fifty feet long without bough, and would meaſure twelve inches diameter at the little end. Twenty ſuch trees did a purveyor find in this little wood, with this advantage, that many of them anſwered the deſcription at ſixty feet. Theſe trees were ſold for twenty pounds apiece.

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

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Pl. III. Pa. 7.

Figure 2. MYTILUS, Crista Galli.

Published [...] 1788, [...] by B White [...]

LETTER III. TO THE SAME.
[7]

THE foſſil-ſhells of this diſtrict, and ſorts of ſtone, ſuch as have fallen within my obſervation, muſt not be paſſed over in ſilence. And firſt I muſt mention, as a great curioſity, a ſpecimen that was plowed up in the chalky fields, near the ſide of the Down, and given to me for the ſingularity of it's appearance, which, to an incurious eye, ſeems like a petrified fiſh of about four inches long, the cardo paſſing for an head and mouth. It is in reality a bivalve of the Linnaean Genus of Mytilus, and the ſpecies of Criſta Galli; called by Liſter, Raſtellum; by Rumphius, Oſtreum plicatum minus; by D'Argenville, Auris Porci, ſ. Criſta Galli; and by thoſe who make collections cock's comb. Though I applied to ſeveral ſuch in London, I never could meet with an entire ſpecimen; nor could I ever find in books any engraving from a perfect one. In the ſuperb muſeum at Leiceſter-houſe permiſſion was given me to examine for this article; and, though I was diſappointed as to the foſſil, I was highly gratified with the ſight of ſeveral of the ſhells themſelves in high preſervation. This bivalve is only known to inhabit the Indian ocean, where it fixes itſelf to a zoophyte, known by the name Gorgonia. The curious foldings of the ſuture the one into the other, the alternate flutings or grooves, and the curved form of my ſpecimen being much eaſier expreſſed by the pencil than by words, I have cauſed it to be drawn and engraved.

Cornua Ammonis are very common about this village. As we were cutting an inclining path up The Hanger, the labourers found [8] them frequently on that ſteep, juſt under the ſoil, in the chalk, and of a conſiderable ſize. In the lane above Well-head, in the way to Emſhot, they abound in the bank in a darkiſh ſort of marl; and are uſually very ſmall and ſoft; but in Clay's Pond, a little farther on, at the end of the pit, where the ſoil is dug out for manure, I have occaſionally obſerved them of large dimenſions, perhaps fourteen or ſixteen inches in diameter. But as theſe did not conſiſt of firm ſtone, but were formed of a kind of terra lapidoſa, or hardened clay, as ſoon as they were expoſed to the rains and froſt they mouldered away. Theſe ſeemed as if they were a very recent production. In the chalk-pit, at the north-weſt end of The Hanger, large nautili are ſometimes obſerved.

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

LETTER IV. TO THE SAME.

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

This ſtone is in great requeſt for hearth-ſtones, and the beds of ovens: and in lining of lime-kilns it turns to good account; for the workmen uſe ſandy loam inſtead of mortar; the ſand of which fluxes, d and runs by the intenſe heat, and ſo caſes over the [9] whole face of the kiln with a ſtrong vitrified coat like glaſs, that it is well preſerved from injuries of weather, and endures thirty or forty years. When chiſeled ſmooth, it makes elegant fronts for houſes, equal in colour and grain to the Bath ſtone; and ſuperior in one reſpect, that, when ſeaſoned, it does not ſcale. Decent chimney-pieces are worked from it of much cloſer and finer grain than Portland; and rooms are floored with it; but it proves rather too ſoft for this purpoſe. It is a freeſtone, cutting in all directions; yet has ſomething of a grain parallel with the horizon, and therefore ſhould not be ſurbedded, but laid in the ſame poſition that it grows in the quarrye. On the ground abroad this fireſtone will not ſucceed for pavements, becauſe, probably ſome degree of ſaltneſs prevailing within it, the rain tears the ſlabs to piecesf. Though this ſtone is too hard to be acted on by vinegar; yet both the white part, and even the blue rag, ferments ſtrongly in mineral acids. Though the white ſtone will not bear wet, yet in every quarry at intervals there are thin ſtrata of blue rag, which reſiſt rain and froſt; and are excellent for pitching of ſtables, paths and courts, and for building of dry walls againſt banks; a valuable ſpecies of fencing, much in uſe in this village, and for mending of roads. This rag is rugged and ſtubborn, and will not hew to a ſmooth face; but is very durable: yet, as theſe ſtrata are ſhallow and lie deep, large quantities cannot be procured but at conſiderable expenſe. Among the blue rags turn up ſome blocks tinged [10] with a ſtain of yellow or ruſt colour, which ſeem to be nearly as laſting as the blue; and every now and then balls of a friable ſubſtance, like ruſt of iron, called ruſt balls.

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

From a notion of rendering their work the more elegant, and giving it a finiſh, maſons chip this ſtone into ſmall fragments about the ſize of the head of a large nail; and then ſtick the pieces into the wet mortar along the joints of their freeſtone walls: this embelliſhment carries an odd appearance, and has occaſioned ſtrangers ſometimes to aſk us pleaſantly, ‘"whether we faſtened our walls together with tenpenny nails."’

LETTER V. TO THE SAME.
[11]

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

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

The pariſh of Selborne, by taking in ſo much of the foreſt, is a vaſt diſtrict. Thoſe who tread the bounds are employed part of [12] three days in the buſineſs, and are of opinion that the outline, in all it's curves and indentings, does not compriſe leſs than thirty miles.

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

The quantity of rain that falls on it is very conſiderable, as may be ſuppoſed in ſo woody and mountainous a diſtrict. As my experience in meaſuring the water is but of ſhort date, I am not qualified to give the mean quantityg. I only know that

 Inch.Hund.
From May 1, 1779, to the end of the year there fell2837!
From Jan. 1, 1780, to Jan. 1, 17812732
From Jan. 1, 1781, to Jan. 1, 17823071
From Jan. 1, 1782, to Jan. 1, 17835026!
From Jan. 1, 1783, to Jan. 1, 17843371
From Jan. 1, 1784, to Jan. 1, 17853380
From Jan. 1, 1785, to Jan. 1, 17863155
From Jan. 1, 1786, to Jan. 1, 17873957

The village of Selborne, and large hamlet of Oakhanger, with the ſingle farms, and many ſcattered houſes along the verge of [13] the foreſt, contain upwards of ſix hundred and ſeventy inhabitantsh. [14] We abound with poor; many of whom are ſober and induſtrious, and live comfortably in good ſtone or brick cottages, which are glazed, and have chambers above ſtairs: mud buildings we have none. Beſides the employment from huſbandry, the men work in hop gardens, of which we have many; and fell and bark timber. In the ſpring and ſummer the women weed the corn; and enjoy a ſecond harveſt in September by hop picking. Formerly, in the dead months they availed themſelves greatly by ſpinning wool, for making of barragons, a genteel corded ſtuff, much in vogue at that time for ſummer wear; and chiefly manufactured at Alton, a neighbouring town, by ſome of the people called Quakers: but from circumſtances this trade is at an endi. The inhabitants enjoy a good ſhare of health and longevity; and the pariſh ſwarms with children.

LETTER VI. TO THE SAME.

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

[15] The royal foreſt of Wolmer is a tract of land of about ſeven miles in length, by two and a half in breadth, running nearly from North to South, and is abutted on, to begin to the South, and ſo to proceed eaſtward, by the pariſhes of Greatham, Lyſſe, Rogate, and Trotton, in the county of Suſſex; by Bramſhot, Hedleigh, and Kingſley. This royalty conſiſts entirely of ſand covered with heath and fern; but is ſomewhat diverſified with hills and dales, without having one ſtanding tree in the whole extent. In the bottoms, where the waters ſtagnate, are many bogs, which formerly abounded with ſubterraneous trees; though Dr. Plot ſays poſitivelyk, that ‘"there never were any fallen trees hidden in the moſſes of the ſouthern counties."’ But he was miſtaken: for I myſelf have ſeen cottages on the verge of this wild diſtrict, whoſe timbers conſiſted of a black hard wood, looking like oak, which the owners aſſured me they procured from the bogs by probing the ſoil with ſpits, or ſome ſuch inſtruments: but the peat is ſo much cut out, and the moors have been ſo well examined, that none has been found of latel. Beſides the oak, I have alſo been ſhewn pieces of foſſil-wood of a paler colour, and ſofter nature, which the inhabitants called [16] fir: but, upon a nice examination, and trial by fire, I could diſcover nothing reſinous in them; and therefore rather ſuppoſe that they were parts of a willow or alder, or ſome ſuch aquatic tree.

This lonely domain is a very agreeable haunt for many ſorts of wild fowls, which not only frequent it in the winter, but breed there in the ſummer; ſuch as lapwings, ſnipes, wild-ducks, and, as I have diſcovered within theſe few years, teals. Partridges in vaſt plenty are bred in good ſeaſons on the verge of this foreſt, into which they love to make excurſions: and in particular, in the dry ſummer of 1740 and 1741, and ſome years after, they ſwarmed to ſuch a degree that parties of unreaſonable ſportſmen killed twenty and ſometimes thirty brace in a day.

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

Nor does the loſs of our black game prove the only gap in the Fauna Selbornienſis; for another beautiful link in the chain of beings [17] is wanting, I mean the red deer, which toward the beginning of this century amounted to about five hundred head, and made a ſtately appearance. There is an old keeper, now alive, named Adams, whoſe great grandfather (mentioned in a perambulation taken in 1635) grandfather, father and ſelf, enjoyed the head keeperſhip of Wolmer foreſt in ſucceſſion for more than an hundred years. This perſon aſſures me, that his father has often told him, that Queen Anne, as ſhe was journeying on the Portſmouth road, did not think the foreſt of Wolmer beneath her royal regard. For ſhe came out of the great road at Lippock, which is juſt by, and, repoſing herſelf on a bank ſmoothed for that purpoſe, lying about half a mile to the eaſt of Wolmer-pond, and ſtill called Queen's-bank, ſaw with great complacency and ſatisfaction the whole herd of red deer brought by the keepers along the yale before her, conſiſting then of about five hundred head. A ſight this worthy the attention of the greateſt ſovereign! But he farther adds that, by means of the Waltham blacks, or, to uſe his own expreſſion, as ſoon as they began blacking, they were reduced to about fifty head, and ſo continued decreaſing till the time of the late Duke of Cumberland. It is now more than thirty years ago that his highneſs ſent down an huntſman, and ſix yeomen-prickers, in ſcarlet jackets laced with gold, attended by the ſtag-hounds; ordering them to take every deer in this foreſt alive, and to convey them in carts to Windſor. In the courſe of the ſummer they caught every ſtag, ſome of which ſhewed extraordinary diverſion: but, in the following winter, when the hinds were alſo carried off, ſuch fine chaſes were exhibited as ſerved the country people for matter of talk and wonder for years afterwards. I ſaw myſelf one of the yeomen-prickers ſingle out a ſtag from the herd, and muſt confeſs that it was the moſt curious feat of activity I ever beheld, ſuperior to any thing in Mr. Aſtley's [18] riding-ſchool. The exertions made by the horſe and deer much exceeded all my expectations; though the former greatly excelled the latter in ſpeed. When the devoted deer was ſeparated from his companions, they gave him, by their watches, law, as they called it, for twenty minutes; when, ſounding their horns, the ſtop-dogs were permitted to purſue, and a moſt gallant ſcene enſued.

LETTER VII. TO THE SAME.

THOUGH large herds of deer do much harm to the neighbourhood, yet the injury to the morals of the people is of more moment than the loſs of their crops. The temptation is irreſiſtible; for moſt men are ſportſmen by conſtitution: and there is ſuch an inherent ſpirit for hunting in human nature, as ſcarce any inhibitions can reſtrain. Hence, towards the beginning of this century all this country was wild about deer-ſtealing. Unleſs he was a hunter, as they affected to call themſelves, no young perſon was allowed to be poſſeſſed of manhood or gallantry. The Waltham blacks at length committed ſuch enormities, that government was forced to interfere with that ſevere and ſanguinary act called the black act m, which now comprehends more felonies than any law that ever was framed before. And, therefore, a late biſhop of Wincheſter, [19] when urged to re-ſtock Waltham-chaſe n, refuſed, from a motive worthy of a prelate, replying that ‘"it had done miſchief enough already."’

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

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

Such foreſts and waſtes, when their allurements to irregularities are removed, are of conſiderable ſervice to neighbourhoods that verge upon them, by furniſhing them with peat and turf for their firing; with fuel for the burning their lime; and with aſhes for their graſſes; and by maintaining their geeſe and their ſtock of young cattle at little or no expenſe.

The manor-farm of the pariſh of Greatham has an admitted [20] claim, I ſee, (by an old record taken from the Tower of London) of turning all live ſtock on the foreſt, at proper ſeaſons, bidentibus exceptis o. The reaſon, I preſume, why ſheepp are excluded, is, becauſe, being ſuch cloſe grazers, they would pick out all the fineſt graſſes, and hinder the deer from thriving.

Though (by ſtatute 4 and 5 W. and Mary) c. 23. ‘"to burn on any waſte, between Candlemas and Midſummer, any grig, ling, heath and furze, goſs or fern, is puniſhable with whipping and confinement in the houſe of correction;"’ yet, in this foreſt, about March or April, according to the dryneſs of the ſeaſon, ſuch vaſt heath-fires are lighted up, that they often get to a maſterleſs head, and, catching the hedges, have ſometimes been communicated to the underwoods, woods, and coppices, where great damage has enſued. The plea for theſe burnings is, that, when the old coat of heath, &c. is conſumed, young will ſprout up, and afford much tender brouze for cattle; but, where there is large old furze, the fire, following the roots, conſumes the very ground; ſo that for hundreds of acres nothing is to be ſeen but ſmother and deſolation, the whole circuit round looking like the cinders of a volcano; and, the ſoil being quite exhauſted, no traces of vegetation are to be found for years. Theſe conflagrations, as they take place uſually with a north-eaſt or eaſt wind, much annoy this village with their ſmoke, and often alarm the country; and, once in particular, I remember that a gentleman, who lives beyond Andover, coming to my houſe, when he got on the downs between that town and Wincheſter, at twenty-five miles [21] diſtance, was ſurpriſed much with ſmoke and a hot ſmell of fire; and concluded that Alresford was in flames; but, when he came to that town, he then had apprehenſions for the next village, and ſo on to the end of his journey.

On two of the moſt conſpicuous eminences of this foreſt ſtand two arbours or bowers, made of the boughs of oaks; the one called Waldon-lodge, the other Brimſtone-lodge: theſe the keepers renew annually on the feaſt of St. Barnabas, taking the old materials for a perquiſite. The farm called Blackmoor, in this pariſh, is obliged to find the poſts and bruſh-wood for the former; while the farms at Greatham, in rotation, furniſh for the latter; and are all enjoined to cut and deliver the materials at the ſpot. This cuſtom I mention, becauſe I look upon it to be of very remote antiquity.

LETTER VIII. TO THE SAME.

ON the verge of the foreſt, as it is now circumſcribed, are three conſiderable lakes, two in Oakhanger, of which I have nothing particular to ſay; and one called Bin's, or Bean's pond, which is worthy the attention of a naturaliſt or a ſportſman. For, being crowded at the upper end with willows, and with the carex ceſpitoſa q, it affords ſuch a ſafe and pleaſing ſhelter to wild ducks, [22] teals, ſnipes, &c. that they breed there. In the winter this covert is alſo frequented by foxes, and ſometimes by pheaſants; and the bogs produce many curious plants. [For which conſult letter XLII. to Mr. Barrington.]

By a perambulation of Wolmer foreſt and The Holt, made in 1635, and in the eleventh year of Charles the Firſt (which now lies before me), it appears that the limits of the former are much circumſcribed. For, to ſay nothing of the farther ſide, with which I am not ſo well acquainted, the bounds on this ſide, in old times, came into Binſwood; and extended to the ditch of Ward le ham-park, in which ſtands the curious mount called King John's Hill, and Lodge Hill; and to the verge of Hartley Mauduit, called Mauduit-hatch; comprehending alſo Short-heath, Oakhanger, and Oakwoods; a large diſtrict, now private property, though once belonging to the royal domain.

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

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

A circumſtance reſpecting theſe ponds, though by no means peculiar to them, I cannot paſs over in ſilence; and that is, that inſtinct by which in ſummer all the kine, whether oxen, cows, [23] calves, or heifers, retire conſtantly to the water during the hotter hours; where, being more exempt from flies, and inhaling the coolneſs of that element, ſome belly deep, and ſome only to mid-leg, they ruminate and ſolace themſelves from about ten in the morning till four in the afternoon, and then return to their feeding. During this great proportion of the day they drop much dung, in which inſects neſtle; and ſo ſupply food for the fiſh, which would be poorly ſubſiſted but from this contingency. Thus Nature, who is a great economiſt, converts the recreation of one animal to the ſupport of another! Thomſon, who was a nice obſerver of natural occurrences, did not let this pleaſing circumſtance eſcape him. He ſays, in his Summer,

"A various group the herds and flocks compoſe:
" — on the graſſy bank
"Some ruminating lie; while others ſtand
"Half in the flood, and, often bending, ſip
"The circling ſurface."

Wolmer-pond, ſo called, I ſuppoſe, for eminence ſake, is a vaſt lake for this part of the world, containing, in it's whole circumference, 2646 yards, or very near a mile and an half. The length of the north-weſt and oppoſite ſide is about 704 yards, and the breadth of the ſouth-weſt end about 456 yards. This meaſurement, which I cauſed to be made with good exactneſs, gives an area of about ſixty-ſix acres, excluſive of a large irregular arm at the north-eaſt corner, which we did not take into the reckoning.

On the face of this expanſe of waters, and perfectly ſecure from fowlers, lie all day long, in the winter ſeaſon, vaſt flocks of ducks, teals, and wigeons, of various denominations; where they preen and ſolace, and reſt themſelves, till towards ſun-ſet, when they iſſue forth in little parties (for in their natural ſtate they are all [24] birds of the night) to feed in the brooks and meadows; returning again with the dawn of the morning. Had this lake an arm or two more, and were it planted round with thick covert (for now it is perfectly naked), it might make a valuable decoy.

Yet neither it's extent, nor the clearneſs of it's water, nor the reſort of various and curious fowls, nor it's pictureſque groups of cattle, can render this meer ſo remarkable as the great quantity of coins that were found in it's bed about forty years ago. But, as ſuch diſcoveries more properly belong to the antiquities of this place, I ſhall ſuppreſs all particulars for the preſent, till I enter profeſſedly on my ſeries of letters reſpecting the more remote hiſtory of this village and diſtrict.

LETTER IX. TO THE SAME.

BY way of ſupplement, I ſhall trouble you once more on this ſubject, to inform you that Wolmer, with her ſiſter foreſt Ayles Holt, alias Alice Holt q, as it is called in old records, is held by grant from the crown for a term of years.

The grantees that the author remembers are Brigadier-General Emanuel Scroope Howe, and his lady, Ruperta, who was a natural daughter of Prince Rupert by Margaret Hughs; a Mr. Mordaunt, of [25] the Peterborough family, who married a dowager Lady Pembroke; Henry Bilſon Legge and lady; and now Lord Stawel, their ſon.

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

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

The former, being all in the pariſh of Binſted, is about two miles in extent from north to ſouth, and near as much from eaſt to weſt; and contains within it many woodlands and lawns, and the great lodge where the grantees reſide; and a ſmaller lodge called Gooſe-green; and is abutted on by the pariſhes of Kingſley, Frinſham, Farnham, and Bentley; all of which have right of common.

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

At preſent the deer of The Holt are much thinned and reduced by the night-hunters, who perpetually haraſs them in ſpite of the [26] efforts of numerous keepers, and the ſevere penalties that have been put in force againſt them as often as they have been detected, and rendered liable to the laſh of the law. Neither fines nor impriſonments can deter them: ſo impoſſible is it to extinguiſh the ſpirit of ſporting, which ſeems to be inherent in human nature.

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

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

LETTER X. TO THE SAME.
[27]

IT has been my misfortune never to have had any neighbours whoſe ſtudies have led them towards the purſuit of natural knowledge: ſo that, for want of a companion to quicken my induſtry and ſharpen my attention, I have made but ſlender progreſs in a kind of information to which I have been attached from my childhood.

As to ſwallows (hirundines ruſticae) being found in a torpid ſtate during the winter in the iſle of Wight, or any part of this country, I never heard any ſuch account worth attending to. But a clergyman, of an inquiſitive turn, aſſures me, that, when he was a great boy, ſome workmen, in pulling down the battlements of a church tower early in the ſpring, found two or three ſwifts (hirundines apodes) among the rubbiſh, which were, at firſt appearance, dead; but, on being carried toward the fire, revived. He told me that, out of his great care to preſerve them, he put them in a paper-bag, and hung them by the kitchen fire, where they were ſuffocated.

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

[28] Young broods of ſwallows began to appear this year on July the eleventh, and young martins (hirundines urbicae) were then fledged in their neſts. Both ſpecies will breed again once. For I ſee by my fauna of laſt year, that young broods came forth ſo late as September the eighteenth. Are not theſe late hatchings more in favour of hiding than migration? Nay, ſome young martins remained in their neſts laſt year ſo late as September the twenty-ninth; and yet they totally diſappeared with us by the fifth of October.

How ſtrange is it that the ſwift, which ſeems to live exactly the ſame life with the ſwallow and houſe-martin, ſhould leave us before the middle of Auguſt invariably! while the latter ſtay often till the middle of October; and once I ſaw numbers of houſe-martins on the ſeventh of November. The martins and red-wing fieldfares were flying in ſight together; an uncommon aſſemblage of ſummer and winter-birds!

A little yellow bird (it is either a ſpecies of the alauda trivialis, or rather perhaps of the motacilla trochilus) ſtill continues to make a ſibilous ſhivering noiſe in the tops of tall woods. The ſtoparola of Ray (for which we have as yet no name in theſe parts) is called; in your Zoology, the fly-catcher. There is one circumſtance characteriſtic of this bird, which ſeems to have eſcaped obſervation, and that is, it takes it's ſtand on the top of ſome ſtake or poſt, from whence it ſprings forth on it's prey, catching a fly in the air, and hardly ever touching the ground, but returning ſtill to the ſame ſtand for many times together.

I perceive there are more than one ſpecies of the motacilla trochilus: Mr. Derham ſuppoſes, in Ray's Philoſ. Letters, that he has diſcovered three. In theſe there is again an inſtance of ſome very common birds that have as yet no Engliſh name.

[29] Mr. Stillingfleet makes a queſtion whether the black-cap (motacilla atricapilla) be a bird of paſſage or not: I think there is no doubt of it: for, in April, in the firſt fine weather, they come trooping, all at once, into theſe parts, but are never ſeen in the winter. They are delicate ſongſters.

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

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

I ſuſpect much there may be two ſpecies of water-rats. Ray ſays, and Linnaeus after him, that the water-rat is web-footed behind. Now I have diſcovered a rat on the banks of our little ſtream that is not web-footed, and yet is an exellent ſwimmer and diver: it anſwers exactly to the mus amphibius of Linnaeus (See Syſt. Nat.) which he ſays ‘"natat in foſſis & urinatur."’ I ſhould be glad to procure one ‘"plantis palmatis."’ Linnaeus ſeems to be in a puzzle about his mus amphibius, and to doubt whether it differs from his mus terreſtris; which if it be, as he allows, the ‘"mus agreſtis capite grandi brachyuros"’ of Ray, is widely different from the water-rat, both in ſize, make, and manner of life.

As to the falco, which I mentioned in town, I ſhall take the liberty to ſend it down to you into Wales; preſuming on your candour, that you will excuſe me if it ſhould appear as familiar to you as it is ſtrange to me. Though mutilated ‘"qualem dices . . . antehac fuiſſe, tales cum ſint reliquiae!"’

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

The pariſh I live in is a very abrupt, uneven country, full of hills and woods, and therefore full of birds.

LETTER XI. TO THE SAME.

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

The moſt unuſual birds I ever obſerved in theſe parts were a pair of hoopoes (upupa), which came ſeveral years ago in the ſummer, and frequented an ornamented piece of ground, which joins to my garden, for ſome weeks. They uſed to march about in a ſtately manner, feeding in the walks, many times in the day; and ſeemed [31] diſpoſed to breed in my outlet; but were frighted and perſecuted by idle boys, who would never let them be at reſt.

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

A croſs-bill (loxia curviroſtra) was killed laſt year in this neighbourhood.

Our ſtreams, which are ſmall, and riſe only at the end of the village, yield nothing but the bull's-head or miller's-thumb (gobius fluviatilis capitatus), the trout (trutta fluviatilis), the eel (anguilla), the lampern (lampaetra parva et fluviatilis), and the ſtickle-back (piſciculus aculeatus).

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

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

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

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

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

[32] I forgot to mention that I once ſaw, in Chriſt Church college quadrangle in Oxford, on a very ſunny warm morning, a houſe martin flying about, and ſettling on the parapets, ſo late as the twentieth of November.

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

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

Bats drink on the wing, like ſwallows, by ſipping the ſurface, as they play over pools and ſtreams. They love to frequent waters, not only for the ſake of drinking, but on account of inſects, which are found over them in the greateſt plenty. As I was going, ſome years ago, pretty late, in a boat from Richmond to Sunbury, on a warm ſummer's evening, I think I ſaw myriads of bats between the two places; the air ſwarmed with them all along the Thames, ſo that hundreds were in ſight at a time.

I am, &c.
LETTER XII. TO THE SAME.
[33]
SIR,

IT gave me no ſmall ſatisfaction to hear that the falco s turned out an uncommon one. I muſt confeſs I ſhould have been better pleaſed to have heard that I had ſent you a bird that you had never ſeen before; but that, I find, would be a difficult taſk.

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

One of theſe neſts I procured this autumn, moſt artificially platted, and compoſed of the blades of wheat; perfectly round, and about the ſize of a cricket-ball; with the aperture ſo ingeniouſly cloſed, that there was no diſcovering to what part it [34] belonged. It was ſo compact and well filled, that it would roll acroſs the table without being diſcompoſed, though it contained eight little mice that were naked and blind. As this neſt was perfectly full, how could the dam come at her litter reſpectively ſo as to adminiſter a teat to each? perhaps ſhe opens different places for that purpoſe, adjuſting them again when the buſineſs is over: but ſhe could not poſſibly be contained herſelf in the ball with her young, which moreover would be daily increaſing in bulk. This wonderful procreant cradle, an elegant inſtance of the efforts of inſtinct, was found in a wheat-field ſuſpended in the head of a thiſtle.

A gentleman, curious in birds, wrote me word that his ſervant had ſhot one laſt January, in that ſevere weather, which he believed would puzzle me. I called to ſee it this ſummer, not knowing what to expect: but, the moment I took it in hand, I pronounced it the male garrulus bohemicus or German ſilk-tail, from the five peculiar crimſon tags or points which it carries at the ends of five of the ſhort remiges. It cannot, I ſuppoſe, with any propriety, be called an Engliſh bird: and yet I ſee, by Ray's Philoſoph. Letters, that great flocks of them, feeding on haws, appeared in this kingdom in the winter of 1685.

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

Some birds, haunting with the miſſel-thruſhes, and feeding on the berries of the yew-tree, which anſwered to the deſcription of the merula torquata or ring-ouzel, were lately ſeen in this neighbourhood. [35] I employed ſome people to procure me a ſpecimen, but without ſucceſs. See Letter VIII.

Query—Might not Canary birds be naturalized to this climate, provided their eggs were put, in the ſpring, into the neſts of ſome of their congeners, as goldfinches, greenfinches, &c.? Before winter perhaps they might be hardened, and able to ſhift for themſelves.

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

An obſerving gentleman in London writes me word that he ſaw an houſe-martin, on the twenty-third of laſt October, flying in and out of it's neſt in the Borough. And I myſelf, on the twentyninth of laſt October (as I was travelling through Oxford), ſaw four or five ſwallows hovering round and ſettling on the roof of the county-hoſpital.

Now is it likely that theſe poor little birds (which perhaps had not been hatched but a few weeks) ſhould, at that late ſeaſon of the [36] year, and from ſo midland a county, attempt a voyage to Goree or Senegal, almoſt as far as the equator t?

I acquieſce entirely in your opinion—that, though moſt of the ſwallow kind may migrate, yet that ſome do ſtay behind and hide with us during the winter.

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

LETTER XIII. TO THE SAME.
SIR,

As in one of your former letters you expreſſed the more ſatisfaction from my correſpondence on account of my living in the moſt ſoutherly county; ſo now I may return the compliment, and expect to have my curioſity gratified by your living much more to the North.

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

We have, in the winter, vaſt flocks of the common linnets; more, I think, than can be bred in any one diſtrict. Theſe, I obſerve, when the ſpring advances, aſſemble on ſome tree in the ſunſhine, and join all in a gentle ſort of chirping, as if they were about to break up their winter quarters and betake themſelves to their proper ſummer homes. It is well known, at leaſt, that the ſwallows and the fieldfares do congregate with a gentle twittering before they make their reſpective departure.

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

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

Mr. Stillingfleet, in his Tracts, ſays that ‘"if the wheatear (aenanthe) does not quit England, it certainly ſhifts places; for about harveſt they are not to be found, where there was before great plenty of them."’ This well accounts for the vaſt quantities that are caught about that time on the ſouth downs near Lewes, where they are eſteemed a delicacy. There have been ſhepherds, I have been credibly informed, that have made many pounds in a ſeaſon by catching them in traps. And though ſuch multitudes are taken, I never ſaw (and I am well acquainted with thoſe parts) above two or three at a time: for they are never gregarious. They may perhaps migrate in general; and, for that purpoſe, draw towards the coaſt of Suſſex in autumn: but that they do not all withdraw I am ſure; becauſe I ſee a few ſtragglers in many counties, at all times of the year, eſpecially about warrens and ſtone quarries.

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

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

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

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

As to the ſmall mice, I have farther to remark, that though they hang their neſts for breeding up amidſt the ſtraws of the ſtanding corn, above the ground; yet I find that, in the winter, they burrow deep in the earth, and make warm beds of graſs: but their grand rendezvous ſeems to be in corn-ricks, into which they are carried at harveſt. A neighbour houſed an oat-rick lately, under the thatch of which were aſſembled near an hundred, moſt of which were taken; and ſome I ſaw. I meaſured them; and found that, from noſe to tail, they were juſt two inches and a quarter, and their tails juſt two inches long. Two of them, in a ſcale, weighed down juſt one copper halfpenny, which is about the third of an ounce avoirdupois: ſo that I ſuppoſe they are the ſmalleſt quadrupeds in this iſland. A full-grown mus medius domeſticus weighs, I find, one ounce lumping weight, which is more than ſix times as much as the mouſe above; and meaſures from noſe to rump four inches and a quarter, and the ſame in it's tail. We have had a very ſevere froſt and deep ſnow this month. My thermometer was one day fourteen degrees and [40] an half below the freezing point, within doors. The tender evergreens were injured pretty much. It was very providential that the air was ſtill, and the ground well covered with ſnow, elſe vegetation in general muſt have ſuffered prodigiouſly. There is reaſon to believe that ſome days were more ſevere than any ſince the year 1739-40.

I am, &c. &c.
LETTER XIV. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

IF ſome curious gentleman would procure the head of a fallowdeer, and have it diſſected, he would find it furniſhed with two ſpiracula, or breathing-places, beſides the noſtrils; probably analogous to the puncta lachrymalia in the human head. When deer are thirſty they plunge their noſes, like ſome horſes, very deep under water, while in the act of drinking, and continue them in that ſituation for a conſiderable time: but, to obviate any inconveniency, they can open two vents, one at the inner corner of each eye, having a communication with the noſe. Here ſeems to be an extraordinary proviſion of nature worthy our attention; and which has not, that I know of, been noticed by any naturaliſt. For it looks as if theſe creatures would not be ſuffocated, though both their mouths and noſtrils were ſtopped. This curious formation of the head may be of ſingular ſervice to beaſts of chaſe, by [41] affording them free reſpiration: and no doubt theſe additional noſtrils are thrown open when they are hard runx. Mr. Ray obſerved that, at Malta, the owners ſlit up the noſtrils of ſuch aſſes as were hard worked: for they, being naturally ſtrait or ſmall, did not admit air ſufficient to ſerve them when they travelled, or laboured, in that hot climate. And we know that grooms, and gentlemen of the turf, think large noſtrils neceſſary, and a perfection, in hunters and running horſes.

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

[...]
"Quadrifidae nares, quadruplices ad reſpirationem canales."
Opp. Cyn. Lib. ii. l. 181.

Writers, copying from one another, make Ariſtotle ſay that goats breathe at their ears; whereas he aſſerts juſt the contrary:—‘" [...]."’ ‘"Alcmaeon does not advance0 what is true, when he avers that goats breathe through their ears."’ —Hiſtory of Animals. Book I. chap. xi.

LETTER XV. TO THE SAME.
[42]
DEAR SIR,

SOME intelligent country people have a notion that we have, in theſe parts, a ſpecies of the genus muſtelinum, beſides the weaſel, ſtoat, ferret, and polecat; a little reddiſh beaſt, not much bigger than a field mouſe, but much longer, which they call a cane. This piece of intelligence can be little depended on; but farther inquiry may be made.

A gentleman in this neighbourhood had two milkwhite rooks in one neſt. A booby of a carter, finding them before they were able to fly, threw them down and deſtroyed them, to the regret of the owner, who would have been glad to have preſerved ſuch a curiofity in his rookery. I ſaw the birds myſelf nailed againſt the end of a barn, and was ſurpriſed to find that their bills, legs, feet, and claws were milkwhite.

A ſhepherd ſaw, as he thought, ſome white larks on a down above my houſe this winter: were not theſe the emberiza nivalis, the ſnow-flake of the Brit. Zool.? No doubt they were.

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

[43] I had remarked, for years, that the root of the cuckoo-pint (arum) was frequently ſcratched out of the dry banks of hedges, and eaten in ſevere ſnowy weather. After obſerving, with ſome exactneſs, myſelf, and getting others to do the ſame, we found it was the thruſh kind that ſearched it out. The root of the arum is remarkably warm and pungent.

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

In the middle of February I diſcovered, in my tall hedges, a little bird that raiſed my curioſity: it was of that yellow-green colour that belongs to the ſalicaria kind, and, I think, was ſoft-billed. It was no parus; and was too long and too big for the goldencrowned wren, appearing moſt like the largeſt willow-wren. It hung ſometimes with it's back downwards, but never continuing one moment in the ſame place. I ſhot at it, but it was ſo deſultory that I miſſed my aim.

I wonder that the ſtone curlew, charadrius oedicnemus, ſhould be mentioned by the writers as a rare bird: it abounds in all the campaign parts of Hampſhire and Suſſex, and breeds, I think, all the ſummer, having young ones, I know, very late in the autumn. Already they begin clamouring in the evening. They cannot, I think, with any propriety, be called, as they are by Mr. Ray, ‘"circa aquas verſantes;"’ for with us, by day at leaſt, they haunt only the moſt dry, open, upland fields and ſheep walks, far removed from water: what they may do in the night I cannot ſay. Worms are their uſual food, but they alſo eat toads and frogs.

I can ſhew you ſome good ſpecimens of my new mice. Linnaeus perhaps would call the ſpecies mus minimus.

LETTER XVI. TO THE SAME.
[44]
DEAR SIR,

THE hiſtory of the ſtone curlew, charadrius oedicnemus, is as follows. It lays it's eggs, uſually two, never more than three, on the bare ground, without any neſt, in the field; ſo that the countryman, in ſtirring his fallows, often deſtroys them. The young run immediately from the egg like partridges, &c. and are withdrawn to ſome flinty field by the dam, where they ſculk among the ſtones, which are their beſt ſecurity; for their feathers are ſo exactly of the colour of our grey ſpotted flints, that the moſt exact obſerver, unleſs he catches the eye of the young bird, may be eluded. The eggs are ſhort and round; of a dirty white, ſpotted with dark bloody blotches. Though I might not be able, juſt when I pleaſed, to procure you a bird, yet I could ſhew you them almoſt any day; and any evening you may hear them round the village, for they make a clamour which may be heard a mile. Oedicnemus is a moſt apt and expreſſive name for them, ſince their legs ſeem ſwoln like thoſe of a gouty man. After harveſt I have ſhot them before the pointers in turnip-fields.

I make no doubt but there are three ſpecies of the willow-wrens: two I know perfectly; but have not been able yet to procure the third. No two birds can differ more in their notes, and that conſtantly, than thoſe two that I am acquainted with; for the one has a joyous, eaſy, laughing note; the other a harſh loud chirp. [45] The former is every way larger, and three quarters of an inch longer, and weighs two drams and an half; while the latter weighs but two: ſo the ſongſter is one fifth heavier than the chirper. The chirper (being the firſt ſummer-bird of paſſage that is heard, the wryneck ſometimes excepted) begins his two notes in the middle of March, and continues them through the ſpring and ſummer till the end of Auguſt, as appears by my journals. The legs of the larger of theſe two are fleſh-coloured; of the leſs, black.

The graſshopper-lark began his ſibilous note in my fields laſt Saturday. Nothing can be more amuſing than the whiſper of this little bird, which ſeems to be cloſe by though at an hundred yards diſtance; and, when cloſe at your ear, is ſcarce any louder than when a great way off. Had I not been a little acquainted with inſects, and known that the graſshopper kind is not yet hatched, I ſhould have hardly believed but that it had been a locuſta whiſpering in the buſhes. The country people laugh when you tell them that it is the note of a bird. It is a moſt artful creature, ſculking in the thickeſt part of a buſh; and will ſing at a yard diſtance, provided it be concealed. I was obliged to get a perſon to go on the other ſide of the hedge where it haunted; and then it would run, creeping like a mouſe, before us for an hundred yards together, through the bottom of the thorns; yet it would not come into fair ſight: but in a morning early, and when undiſturbed, it ſings on the top of a twig, gaping and ſhivering with it's wings. Mr. Ray himſelf had no knowledge of this bird, but received his account from Mr. Johnſon, who apparently confounds it with the reguli non criſtati, from which it is very diſtinct. See Ray's Philoſ. Letters, p. 108.

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

A LIST of the SUMMER BIRDS of PASSAGE diſcovered in this neighbourhood, ranged ſomewhat in the Order in which they appear:
 Linnaei Nomina.
Smalleſt willow-wren,Motacilla trochilus:
Wryneck,Jynx torquilla:
Houſe-ſwallow,Hirundo ruſtica:
Martin,Hirundo urbica:
Sand-martin,Hirundo riparia:
Cuckoo,Cuculus canorus:
Nightingale,Motacilla luſcinia:
Blackcap,Motacilla atricapilla:
Whitethroat,Motacilla ſylvia:
Middle willow-wren,Motacilla trochilus:
Swift,Hirundo apus:
Stone curlew,?Charadrius oedicnemus?
Turtle-dove,?Turtur aldrovandi?
Graſshopper-lark,Alauda trivialis:
Landrail,Rallus crex:
Largeſt willow-wren,Motacilla trochilus:
Redſtart,Motacilla phaenicurus:
Goatſucker, or fern-owl,Caprimulgus europaeus:
Fly-catcher,Muſcicapa griſola.

[47] My countrymen talk much of a bird that makes a clatter with it's bill againſt a dead bough, or ſome old pales, calling it a jarbird. I procured one to be ſhot in the very fact; it proved to be the ſitta europaea (the nuthatch.) Mr. Ray ſays that the leſs ſpotted woodpecker does the ſame. This noiſe may be heard a furlong or more.

Now is the only time to aſcertain the ſhort-winged ſummer birds; for, when the leaf is out, there is no making any remarks on ſuch a reſtleſs tribe; and, when once the young begin to appear, it is all confuſion: there is no diſtinction of genus, ſpecies, or ſex.

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

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

Yours, &c. &c.
LETTER XVII. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

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

[48] The reptiles, few as they are, I am not acquainted with, ſo well as I could wiſh, with regard to their natural hiſtory. There is a degree of dubiouſneſs and obſcurity attending the propagation of this claſs of animals, ſomething analagous to that of the cryptogamia in the ſexual ſyſtem of plants: and the caſe is the ſame with regard to ſome of the fiſhes; as the eel, &c.

The method in which toads procreate and bring forth ſeems to be very much in the dark. Some authors ſay that they are viviparous: and yet Ray claſſes them among his oviparous animals; and is ſilent with regard to the manner of their bringing forth. Perhaps they may be [...], as is known to be the caſe with the viper.

The copulation of frogs (or at leaſt the appearance of it; for Swammerdam proves that the male has no penis intrans) is notorious to every body: becauſe we ſee them ſticking upon each others backs for a month together in the ſpring: and yet I never ſaw, or read, of toads being obſerved in the ſame ſituation. It is ſtrange that the matter with regard to the venom of toads has not been yet ſettled. That they are not noxious to ſome animals is plain: for ducks, buzzards, owls, ſtone curlews, and ſnakes, eat them, to my knowledge, with impunity. And I well remember the time, but was not eye-witneſs to the fact (though numbers of perſons were) when a quack, at this village, ate a toad to make the country-people ſtare; afterwards he drank oil.

I have been informed alſo, from undoubted authority, that ſome ladies (ladies you will ſay of peculiar taſte) took a fancy to a toad, which they nouriſhed ſummer after ſummer, for many years, till he grew to a monſtrous ſize, with the maggots which turn to fleſh flies. The reptile uſed to come forth every evening from an hole under the garden-ſteps; and was taken up, after ſupper, on the [49] table to be fed. But at laſt a tame raven, kenning him as he put forth his head, gave him ſuch a ſevere ſtroke with his horny beak as put out one eye. After this accident the creature languiſhed for ſome time and died.

I need not remind a gentleman of your extenſive reading of the excellent account there is from Mr. Derham, in Ray's Wiſdom of God in the Creation (p. 365), concerning the migration of frogs from their breeding ponds. In this account he at once ſubverts that fooliſh opinion of their dropping from the clouds in rain; ſhewing that it is from the grateful coolneſs and moiſture of thoſe ſhowers that they are tempted to ſet out on their travels, which they defer till thoſe fall. Frogs are as yet in their tadpole ſtate; but, in a few weeks, our lanes, paths, fields, will ſwarm for a few days with myriads of thoſe emigrants, no larger than my little finger nail. Swammerdam gives a moſt accurate account of the method and ſituation in which the male impregnates the ſpawn of the female. How wonderful is the oeconomy of Providence with regard to the limbs of ſo vile a reptile! While it is an aquatic it has a fiſh-like tail, and no legs: as ſoon as the legs ſprout, the tail drops off as uſeleſs, and the animal betakes itſelf to the land!

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

It is to be remembered that the ſalamandra aquatica of Ray (the water-newt or eft) will frequently bite at the angler's bait, and is often caught on his hook. I uſed to take it for granted that the ſalamandra aquatica was hatched, lived, and died, in the water. But John Ellis, Eſq. F.R.S. (the coralline Ellis) aſſerts, in a letter to the Royal Society, dated June the 5th, 1766, in his account [50] of the mud inguana, an amphibious bipes from South Carolina, that the water-eft, or newt, is only the larva of the land-eft, as tadpoles are of frogs. Leſt I ſhould be ſuſpected to miſunderſtand his meaning, I ſhall give it in his own words. Speaking of the opercula or coverings to the gills of the mud inguana, he proceeds to ſay that ‘"The form of theſe pennated coverings approach very near to what I have ſome time ago obſerved in the larva or aquatic ſtate of our Engliſh lacerta, known by the name of eft, or newt; which ſerve them for coverings to their gills, and for fins to ſwim with while in this ſtate; and which they loſe, as well as the fins of their tails, when they change their ſtate and become land animals, as I have obſerved, by keeping them alive for ſome time myſelf."’

Linnaeus, in his Syſtema Naturae, hints at what Mr. Ellis advances more than once.

Providence has been ſo indulgent to us as to allow of but one venomous reptile of the ſerpent kind in theſe kingdoms, and that is the viper. As you propoſe the good of mankind to be an object of your publications, you will not omit to mention common ſalladoil as a ſovereign remedy againſt the bite of the viper. As to the blind worm (anguis fragilis, ſo called becauſe it ſnaps in ſunder with a ſmall blow), I have found, on examination, that it is perfectly innocuous. A neighbouring yeoman (to whom I am indebted for ſome good hints) killed and opened a female viper about the twenty-ſeventh of May: he found her filled with a chain of eleven eggs, about the ſize of thoſe of a blackbird; but none of them were advanced ſo far towards a ſtate of maturity as to contain any rudiments of young. Though they are oviparous, yet they are viviparous alſo, hatching their young within their bellies, and then bringing them forth. Whereas ſnakes lay [51] chains of eggs every ſummer in my melon beds, in ſpite of all that my people can do to prevent them; which eggs do not hatch till the ſpring following, as I have often experienced. Several intelligent folks aſſure me that they have ſeen the viper open her mouth and admit her helpleſs young down her throat on ſudden ſurpriſes, juſt as the female opoſſum does her brood into the pouch under her belly, upon the like emergencies; and yet the London viper-catchers inſiſt on it, to Mr. Barrington, that no ſuch thing ever happens. The ſerpent kind eat, I believe, but once in a year; or, rather, but only juſt at one ſeaſon of the year. Country people talk much of a water-ſnake, but, I am pretty ſure, without any reaſon; for the common ſnake (coluber natrix) delights much to ſport in the water, perhaps with a view to procure frogs and other food.

I cannot well gueſs how you are to make out your twelve ſpecies of reptiles, unleſs it be by the various ſpecies, or rather varieties, of our lacerti, of which Ray enumerates five. I have not had opportunity of aſcertaining theſe; but remember well to have ſeen, formerly, ſeveral beautiful green lacerti on the ſunny ſandbanks near Farnham, in Surrey; and Ray admits there are ſuch in Ireland.

LETTER XVIII. TO THE SAME.
[52]
DEAR SIR,

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

A perſon, by my order, has ſearched our brooks, but could find no ſuch fiſh as the gaſteroſteus pungitius: he found the gaſteroſteus aculeatus in plenty. This morning, in a baſket, I packed a little earthen pot full of wet moſs, and in it ſome ſticklebacks, male and female; the females big with ſpawn: ſome lamperns; ſome bulls heads; but I could procure no minnows. This baſket will be in Fleet-ſtreet by eight this evening; ſo I hope Mazel will have them freſh and fair to-morrow morning. I gave ſome directions, in a letter, to what particulars the engraver ſhould be attentive.

Finding, while I was on a viſit, that I was within a reaſonable diſtance of Ambreſbury, I ſent a ſervant over to that town, and procured ſeveral living ſpecimens of loaches, which he brought, ſafe and briſk, in a glaſs decanter. They were taken in the gullies that were cut for watering the meadows. From theſe fiſhes (which meaſured from two to four inches in length) I took the following deſcription: ‘"The loach, in it's general aſpect, has a pellucid appearance: it's back is mottled with irregular collections of ſmall black dots, not reaching much below the [53] linea lateralis, as are the back and tail fins: a black line runs from each eye down to the noſe; it's belly is of a ſilvery white; the upper jaw projects beyond the lower, and is ſurrounded with ſix feelers, three on each ſide: it's pectoral fins are large, it's ventral much ſmaller; the fin behind it's anus ſmall; it's dorſal-fin large, containing eight ſpines; it's tail, where it joins to the tail-fin, remarkably broad, without any taperneſs, ſo as to be characteriſtic of this genus: the tail-fin is broad, and ſquare at the end. From the breadth and muſcular ſtrength of the tail it appears to be an active nimble fiſh."’

In my viſit I was not very far from Hungerford, and did not forget to make ſome inquiries concerning the wonderful method of curing cancers by means of toads. Several intelligent perſons, both gentry and clergy, do, I find, give a great deal of credit to what was aſſerted in the papers: and I myſelf dined with a clergyman who ſeemed to be perſuaded that what is related is matter of fact; but, when I came to attend to his account, I thought I diſcerned circumſtances which did not a little invalidate the woman's ſtory of the manner in which ſhe came by her ſkill. She ſays of herſelf ‘"that, labouring under a virulent cancer, ſhe went to ſome church where there was a vaſt crowd: on going into a pew, ſhew was accoſted by a ſtrange clergyman; who, after expreſſing compaſſion for her ſituation, told her that if ſhe would make ſuch an application of living toads as is mentioned ſhe would be well."’ Now is it likely that this unknown gentleman ſhould expreſs ſo much tenderneſs for this ſingle ſufferer, and not feel any for the many thouſands that daily languiſh under this terrible diſorder? Would he not have made uſe of this invaluable noſtrum for his own emolument; or, at leaſt, by [54] ſome means of publication or other, have found a method of making it public for the good of mankind? In ſhort, this woman (as it appears to me) having ſet up for a cancer-doctreſs, finds it expedient to amuſe the country with this dark and myſterious relation.

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

LETTER XIX. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

I HAVE now, paſt diſpute, made out three diſtinct ſpecies of the willow-wrens (motacillae trochili) which conſtantly and invariably uſe diſtinct notes. But, at the ſame time, I am obliged to confeſs that I know nothing of your willow-larky. In my letter [55] of April the 18th, I had told you peremptorily that I knew your willow-lark, but had not ſeen it then: but, when I came to procure it, it proved, in all reſpects, a very motacilla trochilus; only that it is a ſize larger than the two other, and the yellow-green of the whole upper part of the body is more vivid, and the belly of a clearer white. I have ſpecimens of the three ſorts now lying before me; and can diſcern that there are three gradations of ſizes, and that the leaſt has black legs, and the other two fleſh-coloured ones. The yelloweſt bird is conſiderably the largeſt, and has it's quill-feathers and ſecondary feathers tipped with white, which the others have not. This laſt haunts only the tops of trees in high beechen woods, and makes a ſibilous graſshopper-like noiſe, now and then, at ſhort intervals, ſhivering a little with it's wings when it ſings; and is, I make no doubt now, the regulus non criſtatus of Ray; which he ſays ‘"cantat voce ſtridulâ locuſtae."’ Yet this great ornithologiſt never ſuſpected that there were three ſpecies.

LETTER XX. TO THE SAME.

IT is, I find, in zoology as it is in botany: all nature is ſo full, that that diſtrict produces the greateſt variety which is the moſt examined. Several birds, which are ſaid to belong to the north only, are, it ſeems, often in the ſouth. I have diſcovered this [56] ſummer three ſpecies of birds with us, which writers mention as only to be ſeen in the northern counties. The firſt that was brought me (on the 14th of May), was the ſandpiper, tringa hypoleucus: it was a cock bird, and haunted the banks of ſome ponds near the village; and, as it had a companion, doubtleſs intended to have bred near that water. Beſides, the owner has told me ſince, that, on recollection, he has ſeen ſome of the ſame birds round his ponds in former ſummers.

The next bird that I procured (on the 21ſt of May) was a male red-backed butcher bird, lanius collurio. My neighbour, who ſhot it, ſays that it might eaſily have eſcaped his notice, had not the outcries and chattering of the white-throats and other ſmall birds drawn his attention to the buſh where it was: it's craw was filled with the legs and wings of beetles.

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

This week twelve months a gentleman from London, being with us, was amuſing himſelf with a gun, and found, he told us, on an old yew hedge where there were berries, ſome birds like blackbirds, with rings of white round their necks: a neighbouring farmer alſo at the ſame time obſerved the ſame; but, as no ſpecimens were procured, little notice was taken. I mentioned this circumſtance to you in my letter of November the 4th, 1767: (you however paid but ſmall regard to what I ſaid, as I had not ſeen theſe birds myſelf): but laſt week the aforeſaid farmer, ſeeing a large flock, twenty or thirty of theſe birds, ſhot two cocks and two hens: and ſays, on recollection, that he remembers to have obſerved theſe birds again laſt ſpring, about Lady-day, as it were, on their return to the north. Now perhaps theſe ouſels are not the ouſels of the north of England, but belong to the more northern parts of [57] Europe; and may retire before the exceſſive rigor of the froſts in thoſe parts; and return to breed in the ſpring, when the cold abates. If this be the caſe, here is diſcovered a new bird of winter paſſage, concerning whoſe migrations the writers are ſilent: but if theſe birds ſhould prove the ouſels of the north of England, then here is a migration diſcloſed within our own kingdom never before remarked. It does not yet appear whether they retire beyond the bounds of our iſland to the ſouth; but it is moſt probable that they uſually do, or elſe one cannot ſuppoſe that they would have continued ſo long unnoticed in the ſouthern counties. The ouſel is larger than a blackbird, and feeds on haws; but laſt autumn (when there were no haws) it fed on yew-berries: in the ſpring it feeds on ivy-berries, which ripen only at that ſeaſon, in March and April.

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

My thanks are due to you for your trouble and care in the examination of a buck's head. As far as your diſcoveries reach at preſent, they ſeem much to corroborate my ſuſpicions; and I hope Mr. — may find reaſon to give his deciſion in my favour; and then, I think, we may advance this extraordinary proviſion of nature as a new inſtance of the wiſdom of God in the creation.

As yet I have not quite done with my hiſtory of the oedicnemus, or ſtone-curlew; for I ſhall deſire a gentleman in Suſſex (near whoſe houſe theſe birds congregate in vaſt flocks in the autumn) [58] to obſerve nicely when they leave him, (if they do leave him) and when they return again in the ſpring: I was with this gentleman lately, and ſaw ſeveral ſingle birds.

LETTER XXI. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

WITH regard to the oedicnemus, or ſtone-curlew, I intend to write very ſoon to my friend near Chicheſter, in whoſe neighbourhood theſe birds ſeem moſt to abound; and ſhall urge him to take particular notice when they begin to congregate, and afterwards to watch them moſt narrowly whether they do not withdraw themſelves during the dead of the winter. When I have obtained information with reſpect to this circumſtance, I ſhall have finiſhed my hiſtory of the ſtone-curlew; which I hope will prove to your ſatiſfaction, as it will be, I truſt, very near the truth. This gentleman, as he occupies a large farm of his own, and is abroad early and late, will be a very proper ſpy upon the motions of theſe birds: and beſides, as I have prevailed on him to buy the Naturaliſt's Journal (with which he is much delighted), I ſhall expect that he will be very exact in his dates. It is very extraordinary, as you obſerve, that a bird ſo common with us ſhould never ſtraggle to you.

And here will be the propereſt place to mention, while I think of it, an anecdote which the above-mentioned gentleman told me [59] when I was laſt at his houſe; which was that, in a warren joining to his outlet, many daws (corvi monedulae) build every year in the rabbit-burrows under ground. The way he and his brothers uſed to take their neſts, while they were boys, was by liſtening at the mouths of the holes; and, if they heard the young ones cry, they twiſted the neſt out with a forked ſtick. Some water-fowls (viz. the puffins) breed, I know, in that manner; but I ſhould never have ſuſpected the daws of building in holes on the flat ground.

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

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

You judge very right, I think, in ſpeaking with reſerve and caution concerning the cures done by toads: for, let people advance what they will on ſuch ſubjects, yet there is ſuch a propenſity in mankind towards deceiving and being deceived, that one cannot ſafely relate any thing from common report, eſpecially in print, without expreſſing ſome degree of doubt and ſuſpicion.

Your approbation, with regard to my new diſcovery of the migration of the ring-ouſel, gives me ſatisfaction; and I find you concur with me in ſuſpecting that they are foreign birds which viſit us. You will be ſure, I hope, not to omit to make inquiry whether your ring-ouſels leave your rocks in the autumn. What [60] puzzles me moſt, is the very ſhort ſtay they make with us; for in about three weeks they are all gone. I ſhall be very curious to remark whether they will call on us at their return in the ſpring, as they did laſt year.

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

I am, &c.
LETTER XXII. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

AS to the peculiarity of jackdaws building with us under the ground in rabbit-burrows, you have, in part, hit upon the reaſon; for, in reality, there are hardly any towers or ſteeples in all this country. And perhaps, Norfolk excepted, Hampſhire and Suſſex are as meanly furniſhed with churches as almoſt any counties in the kingdom. We have many livings of two or three hundred pounds a year, whoſe houſes of worſhip make little better appearance than dovecots. When I firſt ſaw Northamptonſhire, Cambridgeſhire [61] and Huntingdonſhire, and the fens of Lincolnſhire, I was amazed at the number of ſpires which preſented themſelves in every point of view. As an admirer of proſpects, I have reaſon to lament this want in my own country; for ſuch objects are very neceſſary ingredients in an elegant landſcape.

What you mention with reſpect to reclaimed toads raiſes my curioſity. An ancient author, though no naturaliſt, has well remarked that ‘"Every kind of beaſts, and of birds, and of ſerpents, and things in the ſea, is tamed, and hath been tamed, of mankind z."’

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

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

In your account of your error with regard to the two ſpecies of herons, you incidentally gave me great entertainment in your deſcription of the heronry at Creſſi-hall; which is a curioſity I never could manage to ſee. Fourſcore neſts of ſuch a bird on one tree is a rarity which I would ride half as many miles to have a [62] ſight of. Pray be ſure to tell me in your next whoſe ſeat Creſſi-hall is, and near what town it liesa. I have often thought that thoſe vaſt extents of fens have never been ſufficiently explored. If half a dozen gentlemen, furniſhed with a good ſtrength of water-ſpaniels, were to beat them over for a week, they would certainly find more ſpecies.

There is no bird, I believe, whoſe manners I have ſtudied more than that of the caprimulgus (the goat-ſucker), as it is a wonderful and curious creature: but I have always found that though ſometimes it may chatter as it flies, as I know it does, yet in general it utters it's jarring note ſitting on a bough; and I have for many an half hour watched it as it ſat with it's under mandible quivering, and particularly this ſummer. It perches uſually on a bare twig, with it's head lower than it's tail, in an attitude well expreſſed by your draughtſman in the folio Britiſh Zoology. This bird is moſt punctual in beginning it's ſong exactly at the cloſe of day; ſo exactly that I have known it ſtrike up more than once or twice juſt at the report of the Portſmouth evening gun, which we can hear when the weather is ſtill. It appears to me paſt all doubt that it's notes are formed by organic impulſe, by the powers of the parts of it's windpipe, formed for ſound, juſt as cats put. You will credit me, I hope, when I aſſure you that, as my neighbours were aſſembled in an b hermitage on the ſide of a ſteep hill where we drink tea, one of theſe churn-owls came and ſettled on the croſs of that little ſtraw edifice and began to chatter, and continued his note for many minutes: and we were all ſtruck with wonder to find that the organs of that little animal, when put in motion, gave a ſenſible vibration to the whole building! This [63] bird alſo ſometimes makes a ſmall ſqueak, repeated four or five times; and I have obſerved that to happen when the cock has been purſuing the hen in a toying way through the boughs of a tree.

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

Your account of the Indian-graſs was entertaining. I am no angler myſelf; but inquiring of thoſe that are, what they ſuppoſed that part of their tackle to be made of? they replied ‘"of the inteſtines of a ſilkworm."’

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

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

LETTER XXIII. TO THE SAME.
[64]
DEAR SIR,

IT is not improbable that the Guernſey lizard and our green lizards may be ſpecifically the ſame; all that I know is, that, when ſome years ago many Guernſey lizards were turned looſe in Pembroke college garden, in the univerſity of Oxford, they lived a great while, and ſeemed to enjoy themſelves very well, but never bred. Whether this circumſtance will prove any thing either way I ſhall not pretend to ſay.

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

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

If ever I ſaw any thing like actual migration, it was laſt Michaelmas-day. I was travelling, and out early in the morning: at firſt there was a vaſt fog; but, by the time that I was got ſeven or eight miles from home towards the coaſt, the ſun broke out into a [65] delicate warm day. We were then on a large heath or common, and I could diſcern, as the miſt began to break away, great numbers of ſwallows (hirundines ruſticae) cluſtering on the ſtunted ſhrubs and buſhes, as if they had rooſted there all night. As ſoon as the air became clear and pleaſant they all were on the wing at once; and, by a placid and eaſy flight, proceeded on ſouthward towards the ſea: after this I did not ſee any more flocks, only now and then a ſtraggler.

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

When I uſed to riſe in a morning laſt autumn, and ſee the ſwallows and martins cluſtering on the chimnies and thatch of the neighbouring cottages, I could not help being touched with a ſecret delight, mixed with ſome degree of mortification: with delight, to obſerve with how much ardour and punctuality thoſe poor little birds obeyed the ſtrong impulſe towards migration, or hiding, imprinted on their minds by their great Creator; and with ſome degree of mortification, when I reflected that, after all our [66] pains and inquiries, we are yet not quite certain to what regions they do migrate; and are ſtill farther embaraſſed to find that ſome do not actually migrate at all.

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

LETTER XXIV. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

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

On the thirteenth of April I went to the ſheep-down, where the ring-ouſels have been obſerved to make their appearance at ſpring and fall, in their way perhaps to the north or ſouth; and was much pleaſed to ſee three birds about the uſual ſpot. We ſhot a cock and a hen; they were plump and in high condition. The hen had but very ſmall rudiments of eggs within her, which proves they are late breeders; whereas thoſe ſpecies of the thruſh kind that remain with us the whole year have fledged young before that time. In their crops was nothing very diſtinguiſhable, but ſomewhat that ſeemed like blades of vegetables nearly digeſted. In [67] autumn they feed on haws and yew-berries, and in the ſpring on ivy-berries. I dreſſed one of theſe birds, and found it juicy and well flavoured. It is remarkable that they make but a few days ſtay in their ſpring viſit, but reſt near a fortnight at Michaelmas. Theſe birds, from the obſervations of three ſprings and two autumns, are moſt punctual in their return; and exhibit a new migration unnoticed by the writers, who ſuppoſed they never were to be ſeen in any of the ſouthern counties.

One of my neighbours lately brought me a new ſalicaria, which at firſt I ſuſpected might have proved your willow-larkc, but, on a nicer examination, it anſwered much better to the deſcription of that ſpecies which you ſhot at Reveſby, in Lincolnſhire. My bird I deſcribe thus: ‘"It is a ſize leſs than the graſshopper-lark; the head, back, and coverts of the wings, of a duſky brown, without thoſe dark ſpots of the graſshopper-lark; over each eye is a milkwhite ſtroke; the chin and throat are white, and the under parts of a yellowiſh white; the rump is tawny, and the feathers of the tail ſharp-pointed; the bill is duſky and ſharp, and the legs are duſky; the hinder claw long and crooked."’ The perſon that ſhot it ſays that it ſung ſo like a reed-ſparrow that he took it for one; and that it ſings all night: but this account merits farther inquiry. For my part, I ſuſpect it is a ſecond ſort of locuſtella, hinted at by Dr. Derham in Ray's Letters: ſee p. 108. He alſo procured me a graſshopper-lark.

The queſtion that you put with regard to thoſe genera of animals that are peculiar to America, viz. how they came there, and whence? is too puzzling for me to anſwer; and yet ſo obvious as often to have ſtruck me with wonder. If one looks into the writers [68] on that ſubject little ſatisfaction is to be found. Ingenious men will readily advance plauſible arguments to ſupport whatever theory they ſhall chuſe to maintain; but then the misfortune is, every one's hypotheſis is each as good as another's, ſince they are all founded on conjecture. The late writers of this ſort, in whom may be ſeen all the arguments of thoſe that have gone before, as I remember, ſtock America from the weſtern coaſt of Africa and the ſouth of Europe; and then break down the Iſthmus that bridged over the Atlantic. But this is making uſe of a violent piece of machinery: it is a difficulty worthy of the interpoſition of a god! ‘"Incredulus odi."’

TO THOMAS PENNANT, ESQUIRE.
THE NATURALIST's SUMMER-EVENING WALK.
— equidem credo, quia ſit divinitus illis
Ingenium.
VIRG. GEORG.
WHEN day declining ſheds a milder gleam,
What time the may-flyd haunts the pool or ſtream;
When the ſtill owl ſkims round the graſſy mead,
What time the timorous hare limps forth to feed;
[69] Then be the time to ſteal adown the vale,
And liſten to the vagrant e cuckoo's tale;
To hear the clamorous f curlew call his mate,
Or the ſoft quail his tender pain relate;
To ſee the ſwallow ſweep the dark'ning plain
Belated, to ſupport her infant train;
To mark the ſwift in rapid giddy ring
Daſh round the ſteeple, unſubdu'd of wing:
Amuſive birds!—ſay where your hid retreat
When the froſt rages and the tempeſts beat;
Whence your return, by ſuch nice inſtinct led,
When ſpring, ſoft ſeaſon, lifts her bloomy head?
Such baffled ſearches mock man's prying pride,
The GOD of NATURE is your ſecret guide!
While deep'ning ſhades obſcure the face of day
To yonder bench leaf-ſhelter'd let us ſtray,
'Till blended objects fail the ſwimming ſight,
And all the fading landſcape ſinks in night;
To hear the drowſy dor come bruſhing by
With buzzing wing, or the ſhrill g cricket cry;
To ſee the feeding bat glance through the wood;
To catch the diſtant falling of the flood;
While o'er the cliff th' awaken'd churn-owl hung
Through the ſtill gloom protracts his chattering ſong;
While high in air, and pois'd upon his wings,
Unſeen, the ſoft enamour'd h woodlark ſings:
[70] Theſe, NATURE's works, the curious mind employ,
Inſpire a ſoothing melancholy joy:
As fancy warms, a pleaſing kind of pain
Steals o'er the cheek, and thrills the creeping vein!
Each rural ſight, each ſound, each ſmell, combine;
The tinkling ſheep-bell, or the breath of kine;
The new-mown hay that ſcents the ſwelling breeze,
Or cottage-chimney ſmoking through the trees.
The chilling night-dews fall:—away, retire;
For ſee, the glow-worm lights her amorous firei!
Thus, e'er night's veil had half obſcur'd the ſky,
Th' impatient damſel hung her lamp on high:
True to the ſignal, by love's meteor led,
Leander haſten'd to his Hero's bedk.
I am, &c.
LETTER XXV. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

IT gives me ſatisfaction to find that my account of the ouſel migration pleaſes you. You put a very ſhrewd queſtion when you aſk me how I know that their autumnal migration is ſouthward? [71] Was not candour and openneſs the very life of natural hiſtory, I ſhould paſs over this query juſt as a ſly commentator does over a crabbed paſſage in a claſſic; but common ingenuouſneſs obliges me to confeſs, not without ſome degree of ſhame, that I only reaſoned in that caſe from analogy. For as all other autumnal birds migrate from the northward to us, to partake of our milder winters, and return to the northward again when the rigorous cold abates, ſo I concluded that the ring-ouſels did the ſame, as well as their congeners the fieldfares; and eſpecially as ring-ouſels are known to haunt cold mountainous countries: but I have good reaſon to ſuſpect ſince that they may come to us from the weſtward; becauſe I hear, from very good authority, that they breed on Dartmore; and that they forſake that wild diſtrict about the time that our viſitors appear, and do not return till late in the ſpring.

I have taken a great deal of pains about your ſalicaria and mine, with a white ſtroke over it's eye and a tawny rump. I have ſurveyed it alive and dead, and have procured ſeveral ſpecimens; and am perfectly perſuaded myſelf (and truſt you will ſoon be convinced of the ſame) that it is no more nor leſs than the paſſer arundinaceus minor of Ray. This bird, by ſome means or other, ſeems to be entirely omitted in the Britiſh Zoology; and one reaſon probably was becauſe it is ſo ſtrangely claſſed in Ray, who ranges it among his picis affines. It ought no doubt to have gone among his aviculae caudâ unicolore, and among your ſlender-billed ſmall birds of the ſame diviſion. Linnaeus might with great propriety have put it into his genus of motacilla; and the motacilla ſalicaria of his fauna ſuecica ſeems to come the neareſt to it. It is no uncommon bird, haunting the ſides of ponds and rivers where there is covert, and the reeds and ſedges of moors. The country people in ſome places call it the ſedge-bird. It ſings inceſſantly night and [72] day during the breeding-time, imitating the note of a ſparrow, a ſwallow, a ſky-lark; and has a ſtrange hurrying manner in it's ſong. My ſpecimens correſpond moſt minutely to the deſcription of your fen ſalicaria ſhot near Reveſby. Mr. Ray has given an excellent characteriſtic of it when he ſays, ‘"Roſtrum & pedes in hâc aviculâ multò majores ſunt quâm pro corporis ratione."’ See letter May 29, 1769.

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

When I wrote to you laſt year on reptiles, I wiſh I had not forgot to mention the faculty that ſnakes have of ſtinking ſe defendendo. I knew a gentleman who kept a tame ſnake, which was in it's perſon as ſweet as any animal while in good humour and unalarmed; but as ſoon as a ſtranger, or a dog or cat, came in, it fell to hiſſing, and filled the room with ſuch nauſeous effluvia as rendered it hardly ſupportable. Thus the ſqunck, or ſtonck, of Ray's Synop. Quadr. is an innocuous and ſweet animal; but, when preſſed hard by dogs and men, it can eject ſuch a moſt peſtilent and fetid ſmell and excrement, that nothing can be more horrible.

A gentleman ſent me lately a fine ſpecimen of the lanius minor cineraſcens cum maculâ in ſcapulis albâ, Raii; which is a bird that, at the time of your publiſhing your two firſt volumes of Britiſh Zoology, I find you had not ſeen. You have deſcribed it well from Edwards's drawing.

LETTER XXVI. TO THE SAME.
[73]
DEAR SIR,

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

It has always been matter of wonder to me that fieldfares, which are ſo congenerous to thruſhes and blackbirds, ſhould never chuſe to breed in England: but that they ſhould not think even the highlands cold and northerly, and ſequeſtered enough, is a circumſtance ſtill more ſtrange and wonderful. The ringouſel, you find, ſtays in Scotland the whole year round; ſo that we have reaſon to conclude that thoſe migrators that viſit us for a ſhort ſpace every autumn do not come from thence.

[74] And here, I think, will be the proper place to mention that thoſe birds were moſt punctual again in their migration this autumn, appearing, as before, about the 30th of September: but their flocks were larger than common, and their ſtay protracted ſomewhat beyond the uſual time. If they came to ſpend the whole winter with us, as ſome of their congeners do, and then left us, as they do, in ſpring, I ſhould not be ſo much ſtruck with the occurrence, ſince it would be ſimilar to that of the other winter birds of paſſage; but when I ſee them for a fortnight at Michaelmas, and again for about a week in the middle of April, I am ſeized with wonder, and long to be informed whence theſe travellers come, and whither they go, ſince they ſeem to uſe our hills merely as an inn or baiting place.

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

It pleaſes me to find that white hares are ſo frequent on the Scottiſh mountains, and eſpecially as you inform me that it is a diſtinct ſpecies; for the quadrupeds of Britain are ſo few, that every new ſpecies is a great acquiſition.

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

You admit, I find, that I have proved your fen-ſalicaria to be the leſſer reed-ſparrow of Ray: and I think you may be ſecure [75] that I am right; for I took very particular pains to clear up that matter, and had ſome fair ſpecimens; but, as they were not well preſerved, they are decayed already. You will, no doubt, inſert it in it's proper place in your next edition. Your additional plates will much improve your work.

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

As a neighbour was lately plowing in a dry chalky field, far removed from any water, he turned out a water-rat, that was curiouſly laid up in an hybernaculum artificially formed of graſs and leaves. At one end of the burrow lay above a gallon of potatoes regularly ſtowed, on which it was to have ſupported itſelf for the winter. But the difficulty with me is how this amphibius mus came to fix it's winter ſtation at ſuch a diſtance from the water. Was it determined in it's choice of that place by the mere accident of finding the potatoes which were planted there; or is it the conſtant practice of the aquatic-rat to forſake the neighbourhood of the water in the colder months?

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

The great large batl (which by the by is at preſent a nondeſcript [76] in England, and what I have never been able yet to procure) retires or migrates very early in the ſummer: it alſo ranges very high for it's food, feeding in a different region of the air; and that is the reaſon I never could procure one. Now this is exactly the caſe with the ſwifts; for they take their food in a more exalted region than the other ſpecies, and are very ſeldom ſeen hawking for flies near the ground, or over the ſurface of the water. From hence I would conclude that theſe hirundines, and the larger bats, are ſupported by ſome ſorts of high-flying gnats, ſcarabs, or phalaenae, that are of ſhort continuance; and that the ſhort ſtay of theſe ſtrangers is regulated by the defect of their food.

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

LETTER XXVII. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

HEDGE-HOGS abound in my gardens and fields. The manner in which they eat their roots of the plantain in my graſs-walks is very curious: with their upper mandible, which is much longer than their lower, they bore under the plant, and ſo eat the root off upwards, leaving the tuft of leaves untouched. In this reſpect they [77] are ſerviceable, as they deſtroy a very troubleſome weed; but they deface the walks in ſome meaſure by digging little round holes. It appears, by the dung that they drop upon the turf, that beetles are no inconſiderable part of their food. In June laſt I procured a litter of four or five young hedge-hogs, which appeared to be about five or ſix days old: they, I find, like puppies, are born blind, and could not ſee when they came to my hands. No doubt their ſpines are ſoft and flexible at the time of their birth, or elſe the poor dam would have but a bad time of it in the critical moment of parturition: but it is plain that they ſoon harden; for theſe little pigs had ſuch ſtiff prickles on their backs and ſides as would eaſily have fetched blood, had they not been handled with caution. Their ſpines are quite white at this age; and they have little hanging ears, which I do not remember to be diſcernible in the old ones. They can, in part, at this age draw their ſkin down over their faces; but are not able to contract themſelves into a ball, as they do, for the ſake of defence, when full grown. The reaſon, I ſuppoſe, is, becauſe the curious muſcle that enables the creature to roll itſelf up in a ball was not then arrived at it's full tone and firmneſs. Hedge-hogs make a deep and warm hybernaculum with leaves and moſs, in which they conceal themſelves for the winter: but I never could find that they ſtored in any winter proviſion, as ſome quadrupeds certainly do.

I have diſcovered an anecdote with reſpect to the fieldfare (turdus pilaris), which I think is particular enough: this bird, though it ſits on trees in the day-time, and procures the greateſt part of it's food from white-thorn hedges; yea, moreover, builds on very high trees; as may be ſeen by the fauna ſuecica; yet always appears with us to rooſt on the ground. They are ſeen to come in flocks juſt before it is dark, and to ſettle and neſtle [78] among the heath on our foreſt. And beſides, the larkers, in dragging their nets by night, frequently catch them in the wheatſtubbles; while the bat-fowlers, who take many red-wings in the hedges, never entangle any of this ſpecies. Why theſe birds, in the matter of rooſting, ſhould differ from all their congeners, and from themſelves alſo with reſpect to their proceedings by day, is a fact for which I am by no means able to account.

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

LETTER XXVIII. TO THE SAME.

ON Michaelmas-day 1768 I managed to get a ſight of the female mooſe belonging to the duke of Richmond, at Goodwood; but was greatly diſappointed, when I arrived at the ſpot, to find that it died, after having appeared in a languiſhing way for ſome time, on the morning before. However, underſtanding that it was not ſtripped, I proceeded to examine this rare quadruped: I found it in an old green-houſe, ſlung under the belly and chin by ropes, and in a ſtanding poſture; but, though it had been dead for ſo ſhort a time, it was in ſo putrid a ſtate that the ſtench was hardly [79] ſupportable. The grand diſtinction between this deer, and any other ſpecies that I have ever met with, conſiſted in the ſtrange length of it's legs; on which it was tilted up much in the manner of the birds of the grallae order. I meaſured it, as they do an horſe, and found that, from the ground to the wither, it was juſt five feet four inches; which height anſwers exactly to ſixteen hands, a growth that few horſes arrive at: but then, with this length of legs, it's neck was remarkably ſhort, no more than twelve inches; ſo that, by ſtraddling with one foot forward and the other backward, it grazed on the plain ground, with the greateſt difficulty, between it's legs: the ears were vaſt and lopping, and as long as the neck; the head was about twenty inches long, and aſs-like; and had ſuch a redundancy of upper lip as I never ſaw before, with huge noſtrils. This lip, travellers ſay, is eſteemed a dainty diſh in North America. It is very reaſonable to ſuppoſe that this creature ſupports itſelf chiefly by browſing of trees, and by wading after water plants; towards which way of livelihood the length of legs and great lip muſt contribute much. I have read ſomewhere that it delights in eating the nymphaea, or water-lily. From the fore-feet to the belly behind the ſhoulder it meaſured three feet and eight inches: the length of the legs before and behind conſiſted a great deal in the tibia, which was ſtrangely long; but, in my haſte to get out of the ſtench, I forgot to meaſure that joint exactly. It's ſcut ſeemed to be about an inch long; the colour was a grizzly black; the mane about four inches long; the fore-hoofs were upright and ſhapely, the hind flat and ſplayed. The ſpring before it was only two years old, ſo that moſt probably it was not then come to it's growth. What a vaſt tall beaſt muſt a full grown ſtag be! I have been told ſome arrive at ten feet and an half! This poor creature had at firſt a female companion of the [80] ſame ſpecies, which died the ſpring before. In the ſame garden was a young ſtag, or red deer, between whom and this mooſe it was hoped that there might have been a breed; but their inequality of height muſt have always been a bar to any commerce of the amorous kind. I ſhould have been glad to have examined the teeth, tongue, lips, hoofs, &c. minutely; but the putrefaction precluded all farther curioſity. This animal, the keeper told me, ſeemed to enjoy itſelf beſt in the extreme froſt of the former winter. In the houſe they ſhewed me the horn of a male mooſe, which had no front-antlers, but only a broad palm with ſome ſnags on the edge. The noble owner of the dead mooſe propoſed to make a ſkeleton of her bones.

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

I am, With the greateſt eſteem, &c.
LETTER XXIX. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

LAST month we had ſuch a ſeries of cold turbulent weather, ſuch a conſtant ſucceſſion of froſt, and ſnow, and hail, and tempeſt, that the regular migration or appearance of the ſummer birds was much interrupted. Some did not ſhew themſelves (at [81] leaſt were not heard) till weeks after their uſual time; as the black-cap and white-throat; and ſome have not been heard yet, as the graſshopper-lark and largeſt willow-wren. As to the fly-catcher, I have not ſeen it; it is indeed one of the lateſt, but ſhould appear about this time: and yet, amidſt all this meteorous ſtrife and war of the elements, two ſwallows diſcovered themſelves as long ago as the eleventh of April, in froſt and ſnow; but they withdrew quickly, and were not viſible again for many days. Houſemartins, which are always more backward than ſwallows, were not obſerved till May came in.

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

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

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

Again; I knew a lover of ſetting, an old ſportſman, who has [80] [...] [81] [...] [82] often told me that ſoon after harveſt he has frequently taken ſmall coveys of partridges, conſiſting of cock-birds alone; theſe he pleaſantly uſed to call old bachelors.

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

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

LETTER XXX. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

THE French, I think, in general are ſtrangely prolix in their natural hiſtory. What Linnaeus ſays with reſpect to inſects holds good in every other branch: ‘"Verboſitas praeſentis ſaeculi, calamitas artis."’

[83] Pray how do you approve of Scopoli's new work? as I admire his Entomologia, I long to ſee it.

I forgot to mention in my laſt letter (and had not room to inſert in the former) that the male mooſe, in rutting time, ſwims from iſland to iſland, in the lakes and rivers of North-America, in purſuit of the females. My friend, the chaplain, ſaw one killed in the water as it was on that errand in the river St. Lawrence: it was a monſtrous beaſt, he told me; but he did not take the dimenſions.

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

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

I am, &c.
LETTER XXXI. TO THE SAME.
[84]
DEAR SIR,

YOU ſaw, I find, the ring-ouſels again among their native crags; and are farther aſſured that they continue reſident in thoſe cold regions the whole year. From whence then do our ringouſels migrate ſo regularly every September, and make their appearance again, as if in their return, every April? They are more early this year than common, for ſome were ſeen at the uſual hill on the fourth of this month.

An obſerving Devonſhire gentleman tells me that they frequent ſome parts of Dartmoor, and breed there; but leave thoſe haunts about the end of September or beginning of October, and return again about the end of March.

Another intelligent perſon aſſures me that they breed in great abundance all over the Peak of Derby, and are called there Torouſels; withdraw in October and November, and return in ſpring. This information ſeems to throw ſome light on my new migration.

Scopoli'sm new work (which I have juſt procured) has it's merit in aſcertaining many of the birds of the Tirol and Carniola. Monographers, come from whence they may, have, I think, fair pretence to challenge ſome regard and approbation from the [85] lovers of natural hiſtory; for, as no man can alone inveſtigate all the works of nature, theſe partial writers may, each in their department, be more accurate in their diſcoveries, and freer from errors, than more general writers; and ſo by degrees may pave the way to an univerſal correct natural hiſtory. Not that Scopoli is ſo circumſtantial and attentive to the life and converſation of his birds as I could wiſh: he advances ſome falſe facts; as when he ſays of the hirundo urbica that ‘"pullos extra nidum non nutrit."’ This aſſertion I know to be wrong from repeated obſervation this ſummer; for houſe-martins do feed their young flying, though it muſt be acknowledged not ſo commonly as the houſe-ſwallow; and the feat is done in ſo quick a manner as not to be perceptible to indifferent obſervers. He alſo advances ſome (I was going to ſay) improbable facts; as when he ſays of the woodcock that ‘"pullos roſtro portat fugiens ab hoſte."’ But candour forbids me to ſay abſolutely that any fact is falſe, becauſe I have never been witneſs to ſuch a fact. I have only to remark that the long unweildy bill of the woodcock is perhaps the worſt adapted of any among the winged creation for ſuch a feat of natural affection.

I am, &c.
LETTER XXXII. TO THE SAME.
[86]
DEAR SIR,

AFTER an ineffectual ſearch in Linnaeus, Briſſon, &c. I begin to ſuſpect that I diſcern my brother's hirundo hyberna in Scopoli's new diſcovered hirundo rupeſtris, p. 167. His deſcription of ‘"Supra murina, ſubtus albida; rectrices maculâ ovali albâ in latere interno; pedes nudi, nigri; roſtrum nigrum; remiges obſcuriores quam plumae dorſales; rectrices remigibus concolores; caudâ emarginatâ, nec forcipatâ;"’ agrees very well with the bird in queſtion: but when he comes to advance that it is ‘"ſtatura hirundinis urbicae,"’ and that ‘"definitio hirundinis ripariae Linnaei huic quoque convenit,"’ he in ſome meaſure invalidates all he has ſaid; at leaſt he ſhews at once that he compares them to theſe ſpecies merely from memory: for I have compared the birds themſelves, and find they differ widely in every circumſtance of ſhape, ſize, and colour. However, as you will have a ſpecimen, I ſhall be glad to hear what your judgment is in the matter.

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

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

[87] The bane of our ſcience is the comparing one animal to the other by memory: for want of caution in this particular Scopoli falls into errors: he is not ſo full with regard to the manners of his indigenous birds as might be wiſhed, as you juſtly obſerve: his Latin is eaſy, elegant, and expreſſive, and very ſuperior to Kramer'sn.

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

I am, &c.
LETTER XXXIII. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

I WAS much pleaſed to ſee, among the collection of birds from Gibraltar, ſome of thoſe ſhort-winged Engliſh ſummer-birds of paſſage, concerning whoſe departure we have made ſo much inquiry. Now if theſe birds are found in Andaluſia to migrate to and from Barbary, it may eaſily be ſuppoſed that thoſe that come to us may migrate back to the continent, and ſpend their winters in ſome of the warmer parts of Europe. This is certain, that many ſoft-billed birds that come to Gibraltar appear there only in ſpring and autumn, ſeeming to advance in pairs towards the northward, for the ſake of breeding during the ſummer months; [88] and retiring in parties and broods towards the ſouth at the decline of the year: ſo that the rock of Gibraltar is the great rendezvous, and place of obſervation, from whence they take their departure each way towards Europe or Africa. It is therefore no mean diſcovery, I think, to find that our ſmall ſhort-winged ſummer birds of paſſage are to be ſeen ſpring and autumn on the very ſkirts of Europe; it is a preſumptive proof of their emigrations.

Scopoli ſeems to me to have found the hirundo melba, the great Gibraltar ſwift, in Tirol, without knowing it. For what is his hirundo alpina but the afore-mentioned bird in other words? Says he ‘"Omnia prioris"’ (meaning the ſwift); ‘"ſed pectus album; paulo major priore."’ I do not ſuppoſe this to be a new ſpecies. It is true alſo of the melba, that ‘"nidificat in excelſis Alpium rupibus."’ Vid. Annum Primum.

My Suſſex friend, a man of obſervation and good ſenſe, but no naturaliſt, to whom I applied on account of the ſtone-curlew, oedicnemus, ſends me the following account: ‘"In looking over my Naturaliſt's Journal for the month of April, I find the ſtonecurlews are firſt mentioned on the ſeventeenth and eighteenth, which date ſeems to me rather late. They live with us all the ſpring and ſummer, and at the beginning of autumn prepare to take leave by getting together in flocks. They ſeem to me a bird of paſſage that may travel into ſome dry hilly country ſouth of us, probably Spain, becauſe of the abundance of ſheep-walks in that country; for they ſpend their ſummers with us in ſuch diſtricts. This conjecture I hazard, as I have never met with any one that has ſeen them in England in the winter. I believe they are not fond of going near the water, but feed on earth-worms, that are common on ſheep-walks and downs. They breed on fallows and lay-fields abounding with [89] grey moſſy flints, which much reſemble their young in colour; among which they ſkulk and conceal themſelves. They make no neſt, but lay their eggs on the bare ground, producing in common but two at a time. There is reaſon to think their young run ſoon after they are hatched; and that the old ones do not feed them, but only lead them about at the time of feeding, which, for the moſt part, is in the night."’ Thus far my friend.

In the manners of this bird you ſee there is ſomething very analogous to the buſtard, whom it alſo ſomewhat reſembles in aſpect and make, and in the ſtructure of it's feet.

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

When the oedicnemus flies it ſtretches out it's legs ſtraight behind, like an heron.

I am &c.
LETTER XXXIV. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

THERE is an inſect with us, eſpecially on chalky diſtricts, which is very troubleſome and teaſing all the latter end of the ſummer, getting into people's ſkins, eſpecially thoſe of women and children, [90] and raiſing tumours which itch intolerably. This animal (which we call an harveſt bug) is very minute, ſcarce diſcernible to the naked eye; of a bright ſcarlet colour, and of the genus of Acarus. They are to be met with in gardens on kidneybeans, or any legumens; but prevail only in the hot months of ſummer. Warreners, as ſome have aſſured me, are much infeſted by them on chalky downs; where theſe inſects ſwarm ſometimes to ſo infinite a degree as to diſcolour their nets, and to give them a reddiſh caſt, while the men are ſo bitten as to be thrown into fevers.

There is a ſmall long ſhining fly in theſe parts very troubleſome to the houſewife, by getting into the chimnies, and laying it's eggs in the bacon while it is drying: theſe eggs produce maggots called jumpers, which, harbouring in the gammons and beſt parts of the hogs, eat down to the bone, and make great waſte. This fly I ſuſpect to be a variety of the muſca putris of Linnaeus: it is to be ſeen in the ſummer in farm-kitchens on the bacon-racks and about the mantle-pieces, and on the ceilings.

The inſect that infeſts turnips and many crops in the garden (deſtroying often whole fields while in their ſeedling leaves) is an animal that wants to be better known. The country people here call it the turnip-fly and black-dolphin; but I know it to be one of the coleoptera; the ‘"chryſomela oleracea, ſaltatoria, femoribus poſticis craſſiſſimis."’ In very hot ſummers they abound to an amazing degree, and, as you walk in a field or in a garden, make a pattering like rain, by jumping on the leaves of the turnips or cabbages.

There is an Oeſtrus, known in theſe parts to every ploughboy; which, becauſe it is omitted by Linnaeus, is alſo paſſed over by late writers; and that is the curvicauda of old Moufet, mentioned [91] by Derham in his Phyſico-theology, p. 250: an inſect worthy of remark for depoſiting it's eggs as it flies in ſo dextrous a manner on the ſingle hairs of the legs and flanks of graſs-horſes. But then Derham is miſtaken when he advances that this Oeſtrus is the parent of that wonderful ſtar-tailed maggot which he mentions afterwards; for more modern entomologiſts have diſcovered that ſingular production to be derived from the egg, or the muſca chamaeleon: ſee Geoffroy, t. 17, f. 4.

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

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

LETTER XXXV. TO THE SAME.
[92]
DEAR SIR,

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

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

LETTER XXXVI. TO THE SAME.
[93]
DEAR SIR,

THE ſummer through I have ſeen but two of that large ſpecies of bat which I call veſpertilio altivolans, from it's manner of feeding high in the air: I procured one of them, and found it to be a male; and made no doubt, as they accompanied together, that the other was a female: but, happening in an evening or two to procure the other likewiſe, I was ſomewhat diſappointed, when it appeared to be alſo of the ſame ſex. This circumſtance, and the great ſcarcity of this ſort, at leaſt in theſe parts, occaſions ſome ſuſpicions in my mind whether it is really a ſpecies, or whether it may not be the male part of the more known ſpecies, one of which may ſupply many females; as is known to be the caſe in ſheep, and ſome other quadrupeds. But this doubt can only be cleared by a farther examination, and ſome attention to the ſex, of more ſpecimens: all that I know at preſent is, that my two were amply furniſhed with the parts of generation much reſembling thoſe of a boar.

In the extent of their wings they meaſured fourteen inches and an half; and four inches and an half from the noſe to the tip of the tail: their heads were large, their noſtrils bilobated, their ſhoulders broad and muſcular; and their whole bodies fleſhy and plump. Nothing could be more ſleek and ſoft than their fur, which was of a bright cheſnut colour; their maws were full of [94] food, but ſo macerated that the quality could not be diſtinguiſhed; their livers, kidnies, and hearts, were large, and their bowels covered with fat. They weighed each, when entire, full one ounce and one drachm. Within the ear there was ſomewhat of a peculiar ſtructure that I did not underſtand perfectly; but refer it to the obſervation of the curious anatomiſt. Theſe creatures ſent forth a very rancid and offenſive ſmell.

LETTER XXXVII. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

ON the twelfth of July I had a fair opportunity of contemplating the motions of the caprimulgus, or fern-owl, as it was playing round a large oak that ſwarmed with ſcarabaei ſolſtitiales, or fern-chafers. The powers of it's wing were wonderful, exceeding, if poſſible, the various evolutions and quick turns of the ſwallow genus. But the circumſtance that pleaſed me moſt was, that I ſaw it diſtinctly, more than once, put out it's ſhort leg while on the wing, and, by a bend of the head, deliver ſomewhat into it's mouth. If it takes any part of it's prey with it's foot, as I have now the greateſt reaſon to ſuppoſe it does theſe chafers, I no longer wonder at the uſe of it's middle toe, which is curiouſly furniſhed with a ſerrated claw.

[95] Swallows and martins, the bulk of them I mean, have forſaken us ſooner this year than uſual; for, on September the twenty-ſecond, they rendezvouſed in a neighbour's walnut-tree, where it ſeemed probable they had taken up their lodging for the night. At the dawn of the day, which was foggy, they aroſe all together in infinite numbers, occaſioning ſuch a ruſhing from the ſtrokes of their wings againſt the hazy air, as might be heard to a conſiderable diſtance: ſince that no flock has appeared, only a few ſtragglers.

Some ſwifts ſtaid late, till the twenty-ſecond of Auguſt—a rare inſtance! for they uſually withdraw within the firſt weeko.

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

LETTER XXXVIII. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

BY my journal for laſt autumn it appears that the houſe-martins bred very late, and ſtaid very late in theſe parts; for, on the firſt of October, I ſaw young martins in their neſt nearly fledged; and again, on the twenty-firſt of October, we had at the next houſe a neſt full of young martins juſt ready to fly; and the old ones were hawking for inſects with great alertneſs. The next [96] morning the brood forſook their neſt, and were flying round the village. From this day I never ſaw one of the ſwallow kind till November the third; when twenty, or perhaps thirty, houſe-martins were playing all day long by the ſide of the hanging wood, and over my fields. Did theſe ſmall weak birds, ſome of which were neſtlings twelve days ago, ſhift their quarters at this late ſeaſon of the year to the other ſide of the northern tropic? Or rather, is it not more probable that the next church, ruin, chalk-cliff, ſteep covert, or perhaps ſandbank, lake or pool (as a more northern naturaliſt would ſay), may become their hybernaculum, and afford them a ready and obvious retreat?

We now begin to expect our vernal migration of ring-ouſels every week. Perſons worthy of credit aſſure me that ring-ouſels were ſeen at Chriſtmas 1770 in the foreſt of Bere, on the ſouthern verge of this county. Hence we may conclude that their migrations are only internal, and not extended to the continent ſouthward, if they do at firſt come at all from the northern parts of this iſland only, and not from the north of Europe. Come from whence they will, it is plain, from the fearleſs diſregard that they ſhew for men or guns, that they have been little accuſtomed to places of much reſort. Navigators mention that in the Iſle of Aſcenſion, and other ſuch deſolate diſtricts, birds are ſo little acquainted with the human form that they ſettle on men's ſhoulders; and have no more dread of a ſailor than they would have of a goat that was grazing. A young man at Lewes, in Suſſex, aſſured me that about ſeven years ago ring-ouſels abounded ſo about that town in the autumn that he killed ſixteen himſelf in one afternoon: he added further, that ſome had appeared ſince in every autumn; but he could not find that any had been obſerved before the ſeaſon in which he ſhot ſo many. I myſelf have found theſe birds in [97] little parties in the autumn cantoned all along the Suſſex downs, wherever there were ſhrubs and buſhes, from Chicheſter to Lewes; particularly in the autumn of 1770.

I am, &c.
LETTER XXXIX. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

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

The oſpreyp was ſhot about a year ago at Frinſham-pond, a great lake, at about ſix miles from hence, while it was ſitting on the handle of a plough and devouring a fiſh: it uſed to precipitate itſelf into the water, and ſo take it's prey by ſurpriſe.

A great aſh-coloured q butcher-bird was ſhot laſt winter in Tiſted-park, and a red backed butcher-bird at Selborne: they are rarae aves in this county.

Crowsr go in pairs the whole year round.

Corniſh choughss abound, and breed on Beachy-head and on all the cliffs of the Suſſex coaſt.

[98] The common wild-pigeon,t or ſtock-dove, is a bird of paſſage in the ſouth of England, ſeldom appearing till towards the end of November; is uſually the lateſt winter-bird of paſſage. Before our beechen woods were ſo much deſtroyed we had myriads of them, reaching in ſtrings for a mile together as they went out in a morning to feed. They leave us early in ſpring; where do they breed?

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

A gentleman aſſures me he has taken the neſts of ring-ouſelsx on Dartmoor: they build in banks on the ſides of ſtreams.

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

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

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

In 1772 there were young houſe-martinsa in their neſt till October the twenty-third.

[99] The ſwift b appears about ten or twelve days later than the houſeſwallow: viz. about the twenty-fourth or twenty-ſixth of April.

Whin-chats and ſtone-chatters c ſtay with us the whole year.

Some wheat-earsd continue with us the winter through.

Wagtails, all ſorts, remain with us all the winter.

Bulfinches,e when fed on hempſeed, often become wholly black.

We have vaſt flocks of female chaffinchesf all the winter, with hardly any males among them.

When you ſay that in breeding-time the cock-ſnipesg make a bleating noiſe, and I a drumming (perhaps I ſhould have rather ſaid an humming), I ſuſpect we mean the ſame thing. However, while they are playing about on the wing they certainly make a loud piping with their mouths: but whether that bleating or humming is ventriloquous, or proceeds from the motion of their wings, I cannot ſay; but this I know, that when this noiſe happens the bird is always deſcending, and his wings are violently agitated.

Soon after the lapwingsh have done breeding they congregate, and, leaving the moors and marſhes, betake themſelves to downs and ſheep-walks.

Two years agoi laſt ſpring the little auk was found alive and unhurt, but fluttering and unable to riſe, in a lane a few miles from Alresford, where there is a great lake: it was kept awhile, but died.

I ſaw young tealsk taken alive in the ponds of Wolmer-foreſt in the beginning of July laſt, along with ſlappers, or young wildducks.

[100] Speaking of the ſwift, l that page ſays ‘"it's drink the dew;"’ whereas it ſhould be ‘"it drinks on the wing;"’ for all the ſwallow kind ſip their water as they ſweep over the face of pools or rivers: like Virgil's bees, they drink flying; ‘"flumina ſumma libant."’ In this method of drinking perhaps this genus may be peculiar.

Of the ſedge-birdm be pleaſed to ſay it ſings moſt part of the night; it's notes are hurrying, but not unpleaſing, and imitative of ſeveral birds; as the ſparrow, ſwallow, ſky-lark. When it happens to be ſilent in the night, by throwing a ſtone or clod into the buſhes where it ſits you immediately ſet it a ſinging; or in other words, though it ſlumbers ſometimes, yet as ſoon as it is awakened it reaſſumes it's ſong.

LETTER XL. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

BEFORE your letter arrived, and of my own accord, I had been remarking and comparing the tails of the male and female ſwallow, and this ere any young broods appeared; ſo that there was no danger of confounding the dams with their pulli: and beſides, as they were then always in pairs, and buſied in the employ of nidification, there could be no room for miſtaking the ſexes, nor the individuals of different chimnies the one for the other. From all my obſervations, it conſtantly appeared that each ſex [101] has the long feathers in it's tail that give it that forked ſhape; with this difference, that they are longer in the tail of the male than in that of the female.

Nightingales, when their young firſt come abroad, and are helpleſs, make a plaintive and a jarring noiſe; and alſo a ſnapping or cracking, purſuing people along the hedges as they walk: theſe laſt ſounds ſeem intended for menace and defiance.

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

Swans turn white the ſecond year, and breed the third.

Weaſels prey on moles, as appears by their being ſometimes 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.

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.

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

Many birds which become ſilent about Midſummer 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?

[102] Linnaeus ranges plants geographically; palms inhabit the tropics, graſſes the temperate zones, and moſſes and lichens the polar circles; no doubt animals may be claſſed in the ſame manner with propriety.

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

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.

Red-breaſts ſing all through the ſpring, ſummer, and autumn. The reaſon that they are called autumn ſongſters is, becauſe in the two firſt ſeaſons their voices are drowned and loſt in the general chorus; in the latter their ſong becomes diſtinguiſhable. Many ſongſters of the autumn ſeem to be the young cock red-breaſts of that year: notwithſtanding the prejudices in their favour, they do much miſchief in gardens to the ſummer-fruitsn.

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 excepted.

Houſe-martins came remarkably late this year both in Hampſhire and Devonſhire: is this circumſtance for or againſt either hiding or migration?

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

Notwithſtanding what I have ſaid in a former letter, no grey crows were ever known to breed on Dartmoor; it was my miſtake.

The appearance and flying of the ſcarabaeus ſolſtitialis, or fernchafer, 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 white-throat, 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 an erected creſt and attitudes of rivalry and defiance; are ſhy and wild in breeding-time, avoiding neighbourhoods, and haunting lonely lanes and commons; nay even the very tops of the Suſſex-downs, where there are buſhes and covert; but in July and Auguſt they bring their broods into gardens and orchards, and make great havock among the ſummer-fruits.

The black-cap has in common a full, ſweet, deep, loud, and wild pipe; yet that ſtrain is of ſhort continuance, and his motions are deſultory; but when that bird ſits calmly and engages in ſong [104] in earneſt, he pours forth very ſweet, but inward melody, and expreſſes great variety of ſoft and gentle modulations, ſuperior perhaps to thoſe of any of our warblers, the nightingale excepted.

Black-caps moſtly haunt orchards and gardens; while they warble their throats are wonderfully diſtended.

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

The fly-catcher is of all our ſummer birds the moſt mute and the moſt familiar; it alſo appears the laſt of any. It builds in a vine, or a ſweetbriar, againſt the wall of an 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 it's 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 ſhewn near half the ſpecies that were ever known in Great-Britian p.

On a retroſpect, I obſerve that my long letter carries with it a quaint and magiſterial air, and is very ſententious; but, when I recollect that you requeſted ſtricture and anecdote, I hope you will pardon the didactic manner for the ſake of the information it may happen to contain.

LETTER XLI. TO THE SAME.
[105]

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 winters; for the robuſt wry-neck (ſo much reſembling the hardy race of wood-peckers) 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 inſects in their aurelia ſtate. All the ſpecies of wagtails in ſevere weather haunt ſhallow ſtreams near their ſpring-heads, where they never freeze; and, by wading, pick out the aurelias of the genus of q Phryganeae, &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, [106] where they find ſpiders and flies that have laid themſelves up during the cold ſeaſon. But the grand ſupport of the ſoft-billed birds in winter is that infinite profuſion of aureliae of the lepidoptera ordo, which is faſtened to the twigs of trees and their trunks; to the pales and walls of gardens and buildings; and is found in every cranny and cleft of rock or rubbiſh, and even in the ground itſelf.

Every ſpecies of titmouſe winters with us; they have what I call a kind of intermediate bill between the hard and the ſoft, between the Linnaean genera of fringilla and motacilla. One ſpecies alone ſpends it's whole time in the woods and fields, never retreating 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 caeruleus), the cole-mouſe (parus ater), the great black-headed titmouſe (fringillago), and the marſh titmouſe (parus paluſtris), all reſort, at times, to buildings; and in hard weather particularly. The great titmouſe, driven by ſtreſs of weather, much frequents houſes; and, in deep ſnows, I have ſeen this bird, while it hung with it's back downwards (to my no ſmall delight and admiration), draw ſtraws lengthwiſe from out the eaves of thatched houſes, in order to pull out the flies that were concealed between them, and that in ſuch numbers that they quite defaced the thatch, and gave it a ragged appearance.

The blue titmouſe, or nun, is a great frequenter of houſes, and a general devourer. Beſides inſects, it is very fond of fleſh; for it frequently picks bones on dunghills: it is a vaſt admirer of ſuet, and haunts butchers' ſhops. When a boy, I have known twenty in a morning caught with ſnap mouſe-traps, baited with tallow or ſuet. It will alſo pick holes in apples left on the ground, and [107] be well entertained with the ſeeds on the head of a ſun-flower. The blue, marſh, and great titmice will, in very ſevere weather, carry away barley and oat ſtraws from the ſides of ricks.

How the wheat-ear and whin-chat ſupport themſelves in winter cannot be ſo eaſily aſcertained, ſince they ſpend their time on wild heaths and warrens; the former eſpecially, where there are ſtone quarries: moſt probably it is that their maintenance ariſes from the aureliae of the lepidoptera ordo, which furniſh them with a plentiful table in the wilderneſs.

I am, &c.
LETTER XLII. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

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 naturaliſt. He will not, it is to be wiſhed, undertake that tour unaccompanied by a botaniſt, becauſe the mountains have ſcarcely been ſufficiently examined; and the ſoutherly counties of ſo mild an iſland may poſſibly afford ſome plants little to be expected within the Britiſh dominions. A perſon of a thinking turn of mind will draw many juſt remarks from the modern improvements of that country, both in arts and agriculture, where premiums obtained long before they were heard of with us. The manners of the wild natives, their ſuperſtitions, their prejudices, [108] 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 ſtupendous mountains, ſo little known, and ſo engaging to the imagination when deſcribed and exhibited in a lively manner: ſuch a work would be well received.

As I have ſeen no modern map of Scotland, I cannot pretend to ſay how accurate or particular any ſuch may be; but this I know, that the beſt old maps of 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, a want of a coloured line, or ſtroke, that ſhall exactly define the juſt limits of that diſtrict called The Highlands. Moreover, all the great avenues to that mountainous and romantic country want to be well diſtinguiſhed. The military roads formed by general Wade are ſo great and Roman-like an undertaking that they well merit attention. My old map, Moll's Map, takes notice of Fort William; but could not mention the other forts that have been erected long ſince: therefore a good repreſentation of the chain of forts ſhould not be omitted.

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

I am, &c.
LETTER XLIII. TO THE SAME.
[109]

A PAIR of honey-buzzards, buteo apivorus, five veſpivorus Raii, built them a large ſhallow neſt, compoſed of twigs and lined with dead beechen leaves, upon a tall ſlender beech near the middle of Selborne-hanger, in the ſummer of 1780. In the middle of the month of June a bold boy climbed this tree, though ſtanding on ſo ſteep and dizzy a ſituation, and brought down an egg, the only one in the neſt, which had been ſat on for ſome time, and contained the embrio of a young bird. The egg was ſmaller, and not ſo round as thoſe of the common buzzard; was dotted at each end with ſmall red ſpots, and ſurrounded in the middle with a broad bloody zone.

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

About the tenth of July in the ſame ſummer a pair of ſparrow-hawks bred in an old crow's neſt on a low beech in the ſame hanger; and as their brood, which was numerous, began to grow [110] 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 birds had been obſerved to make ſad havock for ſome days among the new-flown ſwallows and martins, which, being but lately out of their neſts, had not acquired thoſe powers and command of wing that enable them, when more mature, to ſet ſuch enemies at defiance.

LETTER XLIV. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

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

As to the wild wood-pigeon, the oenas, 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 oenas, which is that of ſtock-dove,

[111] 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 an houſe-dove. We very rarely ſee the latter ſettle on trees at all, nor does it ever haunt the woods; but the former, as long as it ſtays with us, from November perhaps to February, lives the ſame wild life with the ring-dove, palumbus torquatus; frequents coppices and groves, ſupports itſelf chiefly by maſt, and delights to rooſt in the talleſt beeches. Could it be known in what manner ſtock-doves build, the doubt would be ſettled with me at once, provided they conſtruct their neſts on trees, like the ring-dove, as I much ſuſpect they do.

You received, you ſay, laſt ſpring a ſtock-dove from Suſſex; and are informed that they ſometimes breed in that country. But why did not your correſpondent determine the place of it's nidification, whether on rocks, cliffs, or trees? If he was not an adroit ornithologiſt I ſhould doubt the fact, becauſe people with us perpetually confound the ſtock-dove with the ring-dove.

For my own part, I readily concur with you in ſuppoſing that houſe-doves are derived from the ſmall blue rock-pigeon, for many reaſons. In the firſt place the wild ſtock-dove is manifeſtly larger than the common houſe-dove, againſt the uſual rule of domeſtication, which generally enlarges the breed. Again, thoſe two remarkable black ſpots on the remiges of each wing of the ſtock-dove, which are ſo characteriſtic of the ſpecies, would not, one ſhould think, be totally loſt by it's being reclaimed; but would often break out among its deſcendants. But what is worth an hundred arguments is, the inſtance you give in Sir Roger Moſlyn's houſe-doves in Caernarvonſhire; which, though tempted by plenty of food and gentle treatment, can never be prevailed on to [112] 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 precipices of that ſtupendous promontory.

"Naturam expellas furcâ ... tamen uſque recurret."

I have conſulted a ſportſman, now in his ſeventy-eighth year, who tells me that fifty or ſixty years back, when the beechen woods were much more extenſive than at 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 emigrants was beech-maſt and ſome acorns; and particularly 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 ſupport in hard weather; and the holes they pick in theſe roots greatly damage the crop. From this food their fleſh has contracted a rancidneſs which occaſions them to be rejected by nicer judges of eating, who thought them before a delicate diſh. They were ſhot not only as they were feeding in the fields, and eſpecially in ſnowy weather, but alſo at the cloſe of the evening, by men who lay in ambuſh among the woods and groves to kill them as they came in to rooſt.r. Theſe are the principal circumſtances relating to this [113] 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 an hundred of theſe doves; 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 happened to be ſuddenly rouſed from their rooſt-trees on an evening,

"Their riſing all at once was like the ſound
"Of thunder heard remote."—

It will by no means be foreign to the preſent purpoſe to add, that I had a relation in this neighbourhood who made it a practice, for a time, whenever he could procure the eggs of a ring-dove, to place them under a pair of doves that were ſitting in his own pigeon-houſe; hoping thereby, if he could bring about a coalition, to enlarge his breed, and teach his own doves to beat out into the woods and to ſupport themſelves by maſt: the plan was plauſible, but ſomething always interrupted the ſucceſs; for though the birds were uſually hatched, and ſometimes grew to half their ſize, yet none ever arrived at maturity. I myſelf have ſeen theſe foundlings in their neſt diſplaying a ſtrange ferocity of nature, ſo as ſcarcely to bear to be looked at, and ſnapping with their bills by way of menace. In ſhort, they always died, perhaps for want of proper ſuſtenance: but the owner thought that by their fierce and wild demeanour they frighted their foſter-mothers, and ſo were ſtarved.

Virgil, as a familiar occurrence, by way of ſimile, deſcribes a dove haunting the cavern of a rock in ſuch engaging numbers, that I cannot refrain from quoting the paſſage: and John Dryden [114] has rendered it ſo happily in our language, that without farther excuſe I ſhall add his tranſlation alſo.

"Qualis ſpeluncâ ſubitò commota Columba,
"Cui domus, et dulces latebroſo in pumice nidi,
"Fertur in arva volans, plauſumque exterrita pennis
"Dat tecto ingentem—mox aere lapſa quieto,
"Radit iter liquidum, celeres neque commovet alas."
"As when a dove her rocky hold forſakes,
"Rous'd, 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."
I am, &c.
LETTER I. TO THE HONOURABLE DAINES BARRINGTON.
[115]
DEAR SIR,

WHEN I was in town laſt month I partly engaged that I would ſometime do myſelf the honour to write to you on the ſubject of natural hiſtory: and I am the more ready to fulfil my promiſe, becauſe I ſee you are a gentleman of great candour, and one that will make allowances; eſpecially where the writer profeſſes to be an out-door naturaliſt, one that takes his obſervations from the ſubject itſelf, and not from the writings of others.

The following is a LIST of the SUMMER BIRDS of PASSAGE which I have diſcovered in this neighbourhood, ranged ſomewhat in the order which they appear:
 RAII NOMINA.USUALLY APPEARS ABOUT
1. Wryneck,Jynx, five torquilla:The middle of March: harſh note.
2. Smalleſt willow-wren,Regulus non criſtatus:March 23: chirps till September.
3. Swallow,Hirundo domeſtica:April 13.
4. Martin,Hirundo ruſtica:Ditto.
5. Sand-martin,Hirundo riparia:Ditto.
6. Black-cap,Atricapilla:Ditto: a ſweet wild note.
7. Nightingale,Luſcinia:Beginning of April.
8. Cuckoo,Cuculus:Middle of April.
9. Middle willow-wren,Regulus non criſtatus:Ditto: a ſweet plantive note.
10. White-throat,Ficedulae aſſinis:Ditto: mean note; ſings on till September.
[116]11. Red-ſtart,Ruticilla:Ditto: more agreeable ſong.
12. Stone-curlew,Oedicnemus:End of March: loud nocturnal whiſtle.
13. Turtle-dove,Turtur. 
14. Graſshopper-lark,Alauda minima locuſtae voce:Middle April: a ſmall ſibilous note, till the end of July.
15. Swift,Hirundo apus:About April 27.
16. Leſs reed-ſparrow,Paſſer arundinaceus minor:A ſweet polyglot, but hurrying: it has the notes of many birds.
17. Land-rail,Ortyigometra:A loud harſh note, crex, crex.
18. Largeſt willow-wren,Regulus non criſtatus:Cantat voce ſtridulâ locuſtae; end of April, on the tops of high beeches.
19. Coatſucker, or fern-owl,Caprimulgus:Beginning of May; chatters by night with a ſingular noiſe.
20. Fly-catcher,Stoparola:May 12. A very mute bird: This is the lateſt ſummer bird of paſſage.

This aſſemblage of curious and amuſing birds belongs to ten ſeveral genera of the Linnaean ſyſtem; and are all of the ordo of paſſeres ſave the jynx and cuculus, which are picae, and the charadrius (oedicnemus) and rallus (ortygometra), which are grallae.

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

  • 1. Jynx:
  • 2, 6, 7, 9, 10, 11, 16, 18. Motacilla:
  • 3, 4, 5, 15. Hixundo:
  • 8. Cuculus:
  • 12. Charadrius:
  • 13. Columba:
  • 17. Rallus:
  • 19. Caprimulgus:
  • 14. Alauda:
  • 20. Muſcicapa.

[117] Moſt ſoft-billed birds live on inſects, and not on grain and feeds; and therefore at the end of ſummer they retire: but the following ſoft-billed birds, though inſect-eaters, ſtay with us the year round:

 RAII NOMINA. 
Redbreaſt,Rubecula:Theſe frequent houſes; and haunt out-buildings in the winter: eat ſpiders.
Wren,Paſſer troglodytes:
Hedge-ſparrow,Curruca:Haunt ſinks for crumbs and other ſweepings.
White-wagtail,Motacilla alba:Theſe frequent ſhallow rivulets near the ſpring heads, where they never freeze: eat the aureliae of Phryganea. The ſmalleſt birds that walk.
Yellow wagtail,Motacilla flava:
Grey wagtail,Motacilla cinerea:
Wheat-ear,Oenanthe:Some of theſe are to be ſeen with us the winter through.
Whin-chat,Oenanthe ſecunda. 
Stone-chatter,Oenanthe tertia. 
Golden-crowned wren,Regulus criſtatus.This is the ſmalleſt Britiſh bird: haunts the tops of tall trees; ſtays the winter through.

A LIST of the WINTER BIRDS of PASSAGE round this neighbourhood, ranged ſomewhat in the order in which they appear:
 RAII NOMINA. 
1. Ring-ouſel,Merula torquata:This is a new migration, which I have lately diſcovered about Michaelmas week, and again about the fourteenth of March.
2. Redwing,Turdus iliacus:About old Michaelmas.
3. Fieldfare,Turdus pilaris:Though a percher by day, rooſts on the ground.
4. Royſton-crow,Cornix cinerea:Moſt frequent on downs,
5. Woodcock,Scolopax:Appears about old Michaelmas.
6. Snipe,Gallinago minor:Some ſnipes conſtantly breed with us.
7. Jack-ſnipe,Gallinago minima. 
8. Wood-pigeonOenas:Seldom appears till late: not in ſuch plenty as formerly.
[118] 9. Wild-ſwan,Cygnus ferus:On ſome large waters.
10. Wild-gooſe,Anſer ferus: 
11. Wild-duck,Anas torquata minor:On our lakes and ſtreams.
12. Pochard,Anas fera fuſca:
13. Wigeon,Penelope:
14. Teal, breeds with us in Wolmer-foreſtQuerquedula:
15. Croſs-beak,Caccothrauſtes:Theſe are only wanderers that appear occaſionally, and are not obſervant of any regular migration.
16. Groſs-bill,Loxia:
17. Silk-tail,Garrulus bohemicus.

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

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

Birds that ſing in the night are but few.

  • Nightingale, Luſcinia: ‘"In ſhadieſt covert hid." MILTON.
  • Woodlark, Alauda arborea: Suſpended in mid air.
  • Leſs reed-ſparrow, Paſſer arundinaceus minor: Among reeds and willows.

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

I am, &c.
LETTER II. TO THE SAME.
[119]
DEAR SIR,

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

According to my propoſal, I ſhall now proceed to ſuch birds (ſinging birds ſtrictly ſo called) as continue in full ſong till after Midſummer; and ſhall range them ſomewhat in the order in which they firſt begin to open as the ſpring advances.

 RAII NOMINA. 
1. Wood-lark,Alauda arborea:In January, and continues to ſing through all the ſummer and autumn.
2. Song-thruſh,Turdus ſimpliciter dictus:In February and on to Auguſt, reaſſume their ſong in autumn.
3. Wren,Paſſer troglodytes:All the year, hard froſt excepted.
4. Redbreaſt,Rubecula:Ditto.
5. Hedge-ſparrew,Curruca:Early in February to July the 10th.
6. Yellowhammer,Emberiza flava:Early in February, and on through July to Auguſt the 21ſt.
7. Skylark,Alauda vulgaris:In February, and on to October.
8. Swallow,Hirundo domeſtica:From April to September.
9. Black-cap,Atricapilla:Beginning of April to July 13th.
[120]10. Titlark,Alauda pratorum:From middle of April to July the 16th.
11. Blackbird,Merula vulgaris:Sometimes in February and March, and ſo on to July the twenty-third; reaſſumes in autumn.
12. White-throat,Ficedulae affinis:In April, and on to July 23.
13. Goldfinch,Carduelis:April, and through to September 16.
14. Greenfinch,Chloris:On to July and Auguſt 2.
15. Leſs reedſparrow.Paſſer arundinaceus minor:May, on to beginning of July.
16. Common linnet,Linaria vulgaris:Breeds and whiſtles on till Auguſt; reaſſumes it's note when they begin to congregate in October, and again early before the flocks ſeparate.

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

17. Middle willowwren,Regulus non criſtatus:Middle of June: begins in April.
18. Redſtart,Ruticilla:Ditto: begins in May.
19. Chaffinch,Fringilla:Beginning of June: ſings firſt in February.
20. Nightingale,Luſcinia:Middle of June: ſings firſt in April.

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

21. Miſſel-bird,Turdus viſcivorus:January the 2d, 1770, in February. Is called in Hampſhire and Suſſex the ſtorm-cock, becauſe it's ſong is ſuppoſed to forebode windy wet weather: is the largeſt ſinging bird we have.
22. Great titmouſe, or ox-eye,Fringillago:In February, March, April: reaſſumes for a ſhort time in September.

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

 RAII NOMINA. 
23. Golden-crowned wren,Regulus criſtatus:It's note as minute as it's perſon; frequents the tops of high oaks and firs: the ſmalleſt Britiſh bird.
24. Marſh-titmouſe,Parus paluſtris:Haunts great woods: two harſh ſharp notes.
25. Small willowwren,Regulus non criſtatus:Sings in March, and on to September.
26. Largeſt ditto,Ditto:Cantat voce ſtridulâ locuſtae; from end of April to Auguſt.
27. Graſshopperlark,Alauda minima voce locuſtae:Chirps all night, from the middle of April to the end of July.
28. Martin,Hirundo agreſtis:All the breeding time; from May to September.
29. Bullfinch,Pyrrhula. 
30. Bunting,Emberiza alba:From the end of January to July.

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

The above-mentioned birds, as they ſtand numerically, belong to the following Linnaean genera.

  • 1, 7, 10, 27. Alauda:
  • 2, 11, 21. Turdus:
  • 3, 4, 5, 9, 12, 15, 17, 18, 20, 23, 25, 26. Motacilla:
  • 6, 30. Emberiza:
  • 8, 28. Hirundo.
  • 13, 16, 19. Fringilla.
  • 22, 24. Parus.
  • 14, 29. Loxia.

[122]Birds that ſing as they fly are but few.

 RAII NOMINA. 
Skylark,Alauda vulgaris:Riſing, ſuſpended, and falling.
Titlark,Alauda pratorum:In it's deſcent; alſo ſitting on trees, and walking on the ground.
Woodlark,Alauda arborea:Suſpended; in hot ſummer nights all night long.
Blackbird,Merula:Sometimes from buſh to buſh.
White-throat,Ficedulae affinis:Uſes when ſinging on the wing odd jerks and geſticulations.
Swallow,Hirundo domeſtica:In ſoft ſunny weather.
Wren,Paſſer troglodytes:Sometimes from buſh to buſh.

Birds that breed moſt early in theſe parts:

Raven,Corvus:Hatches in February and March.
Song-thruſh,Turdus:In March.
Blackbird,Merula:In March.
Rook,Cornix frugilega:Builds the beginning of March.
Woodlark,Alauda arborea:Hatches in April.
Ring-dove,Palumbus torquatus:Lays the beginning of April.

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

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

I am, &c.
LETTER III. TO THE SAME.
[123]
DEAR SIR,

IT was no ſmall matter of ſatisfaction to me to find that you were not diſpleaſed with my little methodus of birds. If there was any merit in the ſketch, it muſt be owing to it's punctuality. For many months I carried a liſt in my pocket of the birds that were to be remarked, and, as I rode or walked about my buſineſs, I noted each day the continuance or omiſſion of each bird's ſong; ſo that I am as ſure of the certainty of my facts as a man can be of any tranſaction whatſoever.

I ſhall now proceed to anſwer the ſeveral queries which you put in your two obliging letters, in the beſt manner that I am able. Perhaps Eaſtwick, and it's environs, where you heard ſo very few birds, is not a woodland country, and therefore not ſtocked with ſuch ſongſters. If you will caſt your eye on my laſt letter, you will find that many ſpecies continued to warble after the beginning of July.

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

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

"And tune his merry note
"Unto the wild bird's throat."
SHAKESPEARE.

The latter has a ſurpriſing variety of notes reſembling the ſong of ſeveral other birds; but then it has alſo an hurrying manner, not at all to it's advantage: it is notwithſtanding a delicate polyglot.

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

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

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

I am, &c.
LETTER IV. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

YOUR obſervation that ‘"the cuckoo does not depoſit it's egg indiſcriminately in the neſt of the firſt bird that comes in it's way, but probably looks out a nurſe in ſome degree congenerous, with whom to intruſt it's young,"’ is perfectly new to me; and ſtruck me ſo forcibly, that I naturally fell into a train of thought that led me to conſider whether the fact was ſo, and what reaſon there was for it. When I came to recollect and inquire, I could not find that any cuckoo had ever been ſeen in theſe parts, except in the neſt of the wagtail, the hedge-ſparrow, the titlark, the white-throat, and the redbreaſt, all ſoft-billed inſectivorous birds. The excellent Mr. Willughby mentions the neſt of the palumbus (ring-dove), and of the fringilla (chaffinch), birds that ſubſiſt on acorns and grains, and ſuch hard food: but then he does not mention them as of his own knowledge; but ſays afterwards [126] that he ſaw himſelf a wagtail feeding a cuckoo. It appears hardly poſſible that a ſoft-billed bird ſhould ſubſiſt on the ſame food with the hard-billed: for the former have thin membranaceous ſtomachs ſuited to their ſoft food; while the latter, the granivorous tribe, have ſtrong muſcular gizzards, which, like mills, grind, by the help of ſmall gravels and pebbles, what is ſwallowed. This proceeding of the cuckoo, of dropping it's eggs as it were by chance, is ſuch a monſtrous outrage on maternal affection, one of the firſt great dictates of nature; and ſuch a violence on inſtinct; that, had it only been related of a bird in the Braſils, or Peru, it would never have merited our belief. But yet, ſhould it farther appear that this ſimple bird, when diveſted of that natural [...] that ſeems to raiſe the kind in general above themſelves, and inſpire them with extraordinary degrees of cunning and addreſs, may be ſtill endued with a more enlarged faculty of diſcerning what ſpecies are ſuitable and congenerous nurſing-mothers for it's diſregarded eggs and young, and may depoſit them only under their care, this would be adding wonder to wonder, and inſtancing, in a freſh manner, that the methods of Providence are not ſubjected to any mode or rule, but aſtoniſh us in new lights, and in various and changeable appearances.

What was ſaid by a very ancient and ſublime writer concerning the defect of natural affection in the oſtrich, may be well applied to the bird we are talking of:

"She is hardened againſt her young ones, as though they were not her's:"
"Becauſe God hath deprived her of wiſdom, neither hath he imparted to her underſtanding s."

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

I am, &c.
LETTER V. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

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

If this ſevere ſeaſon does not interrupt the regularity of the ſummer migrations, the blackcap will be here in two or three days. I wiſh it was in my power to procure you one of thoſe ſongſters; but I am no birdcatcher; and ſo little uſed to birds in a cage, that I fear if I had one it would ſoon die for want of ſkill in feeding.

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

As to the matter of long-billed birds growing fatter in moderate froſts, I have no doubt within myſelf what ſhould be the reaſon. The thriving at thoſe times appears to me to ariſe altogether from the gentle check which the cold throws upon inſenſible perſpiration. The caſe is juſt the ſame with blackbirds, &c.; and farmers and warreners obſerve, the firſt, that their hogs fat more kindly at ſuch times, and the latter that their rabbits are never in ſuch good caſe as in a gentle froſt. But when froſts are ſevere, and of long continuance, the caſe is ſoon altered; for then a want of food ſoon overbalances the repletion occaſioned by a checked perſpiration. I have obſerved, moreover, that ſome human conſtitutions are more inclined to plumpneſs in winter than in ſummer.

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

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

I think the matter might eaſily be determined whether a cuckoo lays one or two eggs, or more, in a ſeaſon, by opening a female [129] during the laying-time. If more than one was come down out of the ovary, and advanced to a good ſize, doubtleſs then ſhe would that ſpring lay more than one.

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

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

I was glad you were pleaſed with my ſpecimen of the caprimulgus, or fern-owl; you were, I find, acquainted with the bird before.

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

Some extracts from your ingenious ‘"Inveſtigations of the difference between the preſent temperature of the air in Italy,"’ &c. have fallen in my way; and gave me great ſatisfaction: they have removed the objections that always aroſe in my mind whenever I came to the paſſages which you quote. Surely the judicious Virgil, when writing a didactic poem for the region of Italy, could never think of deſcribing freezing rivers, unleſs ſuch ſeverity of weather pretty frequently occurred!

P.S. Swallows appear amidſt ſnows and froſt.

LETTER VI. TO THE SAME.
[130]
DEAR SIR,

THE ſeverity and turbulence of laſt month ſo interrupted the regular proceſs of ſummer migration, that ſome of the birds do but juſt begin to ſhew themſelves, and others are apparently thinner than uſual; as the white-throat, the black-cap, the redſtart, the fly-catcher. I well remember that after the very ſevere ſpring in the year 1739-40 ſummer birds of paſſage were very ſcarce. They come probably hither with a ſouth-eaſt wind, or when it blows between thoſe points; but in that unfavourable year the winds blowed the whole ſpring and ſummer through from the oppoſite quarters. And yet amidſt all theſe diſadvantages two ſwallows, as I mentioned in my laſt, appeared this year as early as the eleventh of April amidſt froſt and ſnow; but they withdrew again for a time.

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

When you talked of keeping a reed-ſparrow, and giving it ſeeds, I could not help wondering; becauſe the reed-ſparrow which I mentioned to you (paſſer arundinaceus minor Raii) is a ſoftbilled bird; and moſt probably migrates hence before winter; [131] whereas the bird you kept (paſſer torquatus Raii) abides all the year, and is a thick-billed bird. I queſtion whether the latter be much of a ſongſter; but in this matter I want to be better informed. The former has a variety of hurrying notes, and ſings all night. Some part of the ſong of the former, I ſuſpect, is attributed to the latter. We have plenty of the ſoft-billed ſort; which Mr. Pennant had entirely left out of his Britiſh Zoology, till I reminded him of his omiſſion. See Britiſh Zoology laſt publiſhed, p. 16x.

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

No doubt the reaſon why the ſex of birds in their firſt plumage is ſo difficult to be diſtinguiſhed is, as you ſay, ‘"becauſe they are not to pair and diſcharge their parental functions till the enſuing ſpring."’ As colours ſeem to be the chief external ſexual diſtinction in many birds, theſe colours do not take place till ſexual attachments begin to obtain. And the caſe is the ſame in quadrupeds; among whom, in their younger days, the ſexes differ but little: but, as they advance to maturity, horns and ſhaggy manes, beards and brawny necks, &c. &c. ſtrongly diſcriminate the male from the female. We may inſtance ſtill farther in our own ſpecies, where a beard and ſtronger features are uſually characteriſtic of the male ſex: but this ſexual diverſity does not take place in earlier life; for a beautiful youth ſhall be ſo like a beautiful girl that the difference ſhall not be diſcernible;

"Quem ſi puellarum inſereres choro,
"Mirè ſagaces falleret hoſpites
"Diſcrimen obſcurum, ſolutis
"Crinibus, ambiguoque vultu."
HOR.
LETTER VII. TO THE SAME.
[132]
DEAR SIR,

I AM glad to hear that Kuckalm is to furniſh you with the birds of Jamaica; a ſight of the hirundines of that hot and diſtant iſland would be a great entertainment to me.

The Anni of Scopoli are now in my poſſeſſion; and I have read the Annus Primus with ſatisfaction: for though ſome parts of this work are exceptionable, and he may advance ſome miſtaken obſervations; yet the ornithology of ſo diſtant a country as Carniola is very curious. Men that undertake only one diſtrict are much more likely to advance natural knowledge than thoſe that graſp at more than they can poſſibly be acquainted with: every kingdom, every province, ſhould have it's own monographer.

The reaſon perhaps why he mentions nothing of Ray's Ornithology may be the extreme poverty and diſtance of his country, into which the works of our great naturaliſt may have never yet found their way. You have doubts, I know, whether this Ornithology is genuine, and really the work of Scopoli: as to myſelf, I think I diſcover ſtrong tokens of authenticity; the ſtyle correſponds with that of his Entomology; and his characters of his Ordines and Genera are many of them new, expreſſive, and maſterly. He has ventured to alter ſome of the Linnaean genera with ſufficient ſhew of reaſon.

It might perhaps be mere accident that you ſaw ſo many ſwifts and no ſwallows at Staines; becauſe, in my long obſervation of [133] thoſe birds, I never could diſcover the leaſt degree of rivalry or hoſtility between the ſpecies.

Ray remarks that birds of the gallinae order, as cocks and hens, partridges, and pheaſants, &c. are pulveratrices, ſuch as duſt themſelves, uſing that method of cleanſing their feathers, and ridding themſelves of their vermin. As far as I can obſerve, many birds that duſt themſelves never waſh: and I once thought that thoſe birds that waſh themſelves would never duſt; but here I find myſelf miſtaken; for common houſe-ſparrows are great pulveratrices, being frequently ſeen grovelling and wallowing in duſty roads; and yet they are great waſhers. Does not the ſkylark duſt?

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

A countryman told me he had found a young fern-owl in the neſt of a ſmall bird on the ground; and that it was fed by the little bird. I went to ſee this extraordinary phenomenon, and found that it was a young cuckoo hatched in the neſt of a titlark: it was become vaſtly too big for it's neſt, appearing

— in tenui re
Majores pennas nido extendiſſe —

and was very fierce and pugnacious, purſuing my finger, as I teazed it, for many feet from the neſt, and ſparring and buffetting with it's wings like a game-cock. The dupe of a dam appeared at a diſtance, hovering about with meat in it's mouth, and expreſſing the greateſt ſolicitude.

[134] In July I ſaw ſeveral cuckoos ſkimming over a large pond; and found, after ſome obſervation, that they were feeding on the libellulae, or dragon-flies; ſome of which they caught as they ſettled on the weeds, and ſome as they were on the wing. Notwithſtanding what Linnaeus ſays, I cannot be induced to believe that they are birds of prey.

This diſtrict affords ſome birds that are hardly ever heard of at Selborne. In the firſt place conſiderable flocks of croſs-beaks (loxiae curviroſtrae) have appeared this ſummer in the pine-groves belonging to this houſe; the water-ouſel is ſaid to haunt the mouth of the Lewes river, near Newhaven; and the Corniſh chough builds, I know, all along the chalky cliffs of the Suſſex ſhore.

I was greatly pleaſed to ſee little parties of ring-ouſels (my newly diſcovered migraters) ſcattered, at intervals, all along the Suſſex downs from Chicheſter to Lewes. Let them come from whence they will, it looks very ſuſpicious that they are cantoned along the coaſt in order to paſs the channel when ſevere weather advances. They viſit us again in April, as it ſhould ſeem, in their return; and are not to be found in the dead of winter. It is remarkable that they are very tame, and ſeem to have no manner of apprehenſions of danger from a perſon with a gun. There are buſtards on the wide downs near Brighthelmſtone. No doubt you are acquainted with the Suſſex downs: the proſpects and rides round Lewes are moſt lovely!

As I rode along near the coaſt I kept a very ſharp look out in the lanes and woods, hoping I might, at this time of the year, have diſcovered ſome of the ſummer ſhort-winged birds of paſſage crowding towards the coaſt in order for their departure: but it was very extraordinary that I never ſaw a redſtart, white-throat, black-cap, uncreſted wren, ſly-catcher, &c. And I remember to have made the ſame remark in former years, as I uſually come to [135] this place annually about this time. The birds moſt common along the coaſt at preſent are the ſtone-chatters, whinchats, buntings, linnets, ſome few wheat-ears, titlarks, &c. Swallows and houſemartins abound yet, induced to prolong their ſtay by this ſoft, ſtill, dry ſeaſon.

A land tortoiſe, which has been kept for thirty years in a little walled court belonging to the houſe where I now am viſiting, retires under ground about the middle of November, and comes forth again about the middle of April. When it firſt appears in the ſpring it diſcovers very little inclination towards food; but in the height of ſummer grows voracious: and then as the ſummer declines it's appetite declines; ſo that for the laſt ſix weeks in autumn it hardly eats at all. Milky plants, ſuch as lettuces, dandelions, ſowthiſtles, are it's favourite diſh. In a neighbouring village one was kept till by tradition it was ſuppoſed to be an hundred years old. An inſtance of vaſt longevity in ſuch a poor reptile!

LETTER VIII. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

THE birds that I took for aberdavines were reed-ſparrows (paſſeres torquati.)

There are doubtleſs many home internal migrations within this kingdom that want to be better underſtood: witneſs thoſe vaſt ſlocks of hen chaffinches that appear with us in the winter without hardly any cocks among them. Now was there a due proportion [136] of each ſex, it ſhould ſeem very improbable that any one diſtrict ſhould produce ſuch numbers of theſe little birds; and much more when only one half of the ſpecies appears: therefore we may conclude that the fringillae caelebes, for ſome good purpoſes, have a peculiar migration of their own in which the ſexes part. Nor ſhould it ſeem ſo wonderful that the intercourſe of ſexes in this ſpecies of birds ſhould be interrupted in winter; ſince in many animals, and particularly in bucks and does, the ſexes herd ſeparately, except at the ſeaſon when commerce is neceſſary for the continuance of the breed. For this matter of the chaffinches ſee Fauna Suecica, p. 85, and Syſtema Naturae, p. 318. I ſee every winter vaſt flights of hen chaffinches, but none of cocks.

Your method of accounting for the periodical motions of the Britiſh ſinging birds, or birds of flight, is a very probable one; ſince the matter of food is a great regulator of the actions and proceedings of the brute creation: there is but one that can be ſet in competition with it, and that is love. But I cannot quite acquieſce with you in one circumſtance when you advance that, ‘"when they have thus feaſted, they again ſeparate into ſmall parties of five or ſix, and get the beſt fare they can within a certain diſtrict, having no inducement to go in queſt of freſh-turned earth."’ Now if you mean that the buſineſs of congregating is quite at an end from the concluſion of wheat-ſowing to the ſeaſon of barley and oats, it is not the caſe with us; for larks and chaffinches, and particularly linnets, flock and congregate as much in the very dead of winter as when the huſbandman is buſy with his ploughs and harrows.

Sure there can be no doubt but that woodcocks and fieldfares leave us in the ſpring, in order to croſs the ſeas, and to retire to ſome diſtricts more ſuitable to the purpoſe of breeding. That the [137] former pair before they retire, and that the hens are forward with egg, I myſelf, when I was a ſportſman, have often experienced. It cannot indeed be denied but that now and then we hear of a woodcock's neſt, or young birds, diſcovered in ſome part or other of this iſland: but then they are always mentioned as rarities, and ſomewhat out of the common courſe of things: but as to redwings and fieldfares, no ſportſman or naturaliſt has ever yet, that I could hear, pretended to have found the neſt or young of thoſe ſpecies in any part of theſe kingdoms. And I the more admire at this inſtance as extraordinary, ſince, to all appearance, the ſame food in ſummer as well as in winter might ſupport them here which maintains their congeners, the blackbirds and thruſhes, did they chuſe to ſtay the ſummer through. From hence it appears that it is not food alone which determines ſome ſpecies of birds with regard to their ſtay or departure. Fieldfares and redwings diſappear ſooner or later according as the warm weather comes on earlier or later. For I well remember, after that dreadful winter 1739-40, that cold north-eaſt winds continued to blow on through April and May, and that theſe kinds of birds (what few remained of them) did not depart as uſual, but were ſeen lingering about till the beginning of June.

The beſt authority that we can have for the nidiſication of the birds above mentioned in any diſtrict, is the teſtimony of fauniſts that have written profeſſedly the natural hiſtory of particular countries. Now, as to the fieldfare, Linnaeus, in his Fauna Suecica, ſays of it that ‘"maximis in arboribus nidificat:"’ and of the redwing he ſays, in the ſame place, that ‘"nidificat in mediis arbuſculis, ſive ſepibus: ova ſex caeruleo-viridia maculis nigris variis."’ Hence we may be aſſured that fieldfares and redwings breed in Sweden. Scopoli ſays, in his Annus Primus, of the woodcock, that ‘"nupta ad nos venit circa aequinoctium vernale:"’ meaning in Tirol, of which he is a native. And [138] afterwards he adds ‘"nidificat in paludibus alpinis: ova ponit 3—5."’ It does not appear from Kramer that woodcocks breed at all in Auſtria: but he ſays ‘"Avis haec ſeptentrionalium provinciarum aſtivo tempore incola eſt; ubi plerumque nidificat. Appropinquante hyeme auſtraliores provincias petit: hinc circa plenilunium menſis Octobris plerumque Auſtriam tranſmigrat. Tunc rurſus circa plenilunium potiſſimum menſis Martii per Auſtriam matrimonio juncta ad ſeptentrionales provincias redit."’ For the whole paſſage (which I have abridged) ſee Elenchus, &c. p. 351. This ſeems to be a full proof of the migration of woodcocks; though little is proved concerning the place of breeding.

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

LETTER IX. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

YOU are, I know, no great friend to migration; and the well atteſted accounts from various parts of the kingdom ſeem to juſtify you in your ſuſpicions, that at leaſt many of the ſwallow kind do [139] not leave us in the winter, but lay themſelves up like inſects and bats, in a torpid ſtate, and ſlumber away the more uncomfortable months till the return of the ſun and fine weather awakens them.

But then we muſt not, I think, deny migration in general; becauſe migration certainly does ſubſiſt in ſome places, as my brother in Andaluſia has fully informed me. Of the motions of theſe birds he has ocular demonſtration, for many weeks together, both ſpring and fall: during which periods myriads of the ſwallow kind traverſe the Straits from north to ſouth, and from ſouth to north, according to the ſeaſon. And theſe vaſt migrations conſiſt not only of hirundines but of bee-birds, hoopoes, oro pendolos, or golden thruſhes, &c. &c. and alſo of many of our ſoft-billed ſummer birds of paſſage; and moreover of birds which never leave us, ſuch as all the various ſorts of hawks and kites. Old Belon, two hundred years ago, gives a curious account of the incredible armies of hawks and kites which he ſaw in the ſpring-time traverſing the Thracian Boſphorus from Aſia to Europe. Beſides the above mentioned, he remarks that the proceſſion is ſwelled by whole troops of eagles and vultures.

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

It does not appear to me that much ſtreſs may be laid on the difficulty and hazard that birds muſt run in their migrations, by reaſon of vaſt oceans, croſs winds, &c.; becauſe, if we reflect, a bird may travel from England to the equator without launching out and [140] expoſing itſelf to boundleſs ſeas, and that by croſſing the water at Dover, and again at Gibraltar. And I with the more confidence advance this obvious remark, becauſe my brother has always found that ſome of his birds, and particularly the ſwallow kind, are very ſparing of their pains in croſſing the Mediterranean: for when arrived at Gibraltar they do not

— "Rang'd in figure wedge their way,
— "And ſet forth
"Their airy caravan high over ſeas
"Flying, and over lands with mutual wing
"Eaſing their flight:" —
MILTON.

but ſcout and hurry along in little detached parties of ſix or ſeven in a company; and ſweeping low, juſt over the ſurface of the land and water, direct their courſe to the oppoſite continent at the narroweſt paſſage they can find. They uſually ſlope acroſs the bay to the ſouth-weſt, and ſo paſs over oppoſite to Tangier, which, it ſeems, is the narroweſt ſpace.

In former letters we have conſidered whether it was probable that woodcocks in moon-ſhiny nights croſs the German ocean from Scandinavia. As a proof that birds of leſs ſpeed may paſs that ſea, conſiderable as it is, I ſhall relate the following incident, which, though mentioned to have happened ſo many years ago, was ſtrictly matter of fact:—As ſome people were ſhooting in the pariſh of Trotton, in the county of Suſſex, they killed a duck in that dreadful winter 1708-9, with a ſilver collar about it's neckz, on which were engraven the arms of the king of Denmark. This anecdote the rector of Trotton at that time has often told to a near relation of mine; and, to the beſt of my remembrance, the collar was in the poſſeſſion of the rector.

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

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

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

The alauda pratenſis of Ray was the poor dupe that was educating the booby of a cuckoo mentioned in my letter of October laſt.

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

[142] The ſtock-dove, or wood-pigeon, oenas Raii, is the laſt winter bird of paſſage which appears with us; and is not ſeen till towards the end of November: about twenty years ago they abounded in the diſtrict of Selborne; and ſtrings of them were ſeen morning and evening that reached a mile or more: but ſince the beechen woods have been greatly thinned they are much decreaſed in number. The ring-dove, palumbus Raii, ſtays with us the whole year, and breeds ſeveral times through the ſummer.

Before I received your letter of October laſt I had juſt remarked in my journal that the trees were unuſually green. This uncommon verdure laſted on late into November; and may be accounted for from a late ſpring, a cool and moiſt ſummer; but more particularly from vaſt armies of chafers, or tree-beetles, which, in many places, reduced whole woods to a leafleſs naked ſtate. Theſe trees ſhot again at Midſummer, and then retained their foliage till very late in the year.

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

I am, &c. &c.
LETTER X. TO THE SAME.
[143]
DEAR SIR,

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

A neighbour of mine, who is ſaid to have a nice ear, remarks that the owls about this village hoot in three different keys, in G flat, or F ſharp, in B flat and A flat. He heard two hooting to each other, the one in A flat, and the other in B flat. Query: Do theſe different notes proceed from different ſpecies, or only from various individuals? The ſame perſon finds upon trial that the note of the cuckoo (of which we have but one ſpecies) varies in different individuals; for, about Selborne wood, he found they were moſtly in D: he heard two ſing together, the one in D, the other in D ſharp, who made a diſagreeable concert: he afterwards heard one in D ſharp, and about Woolmer-foreſt ſome in C. As to nightingales, he ſays that their notes are ſo ſhort, and their tranſitions ſo rapid, that he cannot well aſcertain their key. Perhaps in a cage, and in a room, their notes may be more diſtinguiſhable. This perſon has tried to ſettle the notes of a ſwift, and of ſeveral other ſmall birds, but cannot bring them to any criterion.

[144] As I have often remarked that redwings are ſome of the firſt birds that ſuffer with us in ſevere weather, it is no wonder at all that they retreat from Scandinavian winters: and much more the ordo of grallae, who, all to a bird, forſake the northern parts of Europe at the approach of winter. ‘"Grallae tanquam conjuratae unanimiter in fugam ſe conjiciunt; ne earum unicam quidem inter nos habitantem invenire poſſimus; ut enim aeſtate in auſtralibus degere nequeunt ob defectum lumbricorum, terramque ſiccam; ita nec in frigidis ob eandem cauſam",’ ſays Ekmarck the Swede, in his ingenious little treatiſe called Migrationes Avium, which by all means you ought to read while your thoughts run on the ſubject of migration. See Amaenitates Academicae, vol. 4, p. 565.

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

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

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

Foreign ſyſtematics are, I obſerve, much too vague in their ſpecific differences; which are almoſt univerſally conſtituted by one or two particular marks, the reſt of the deſcription running in general terms. But our countryman, the excellent Mr. Ray, is [145] the only deſcriber that conveys ſome preciſe idea in every term or word, maintaining his ſuperiority over his followers and imitators in ſpite of the advantage of freſh diſcoveries and modern information.

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

I am, &c. &c.
LETTER XI. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

WHEN I ride about in the winter, and ſee ſuch prodigious flocks of various kinds of birds, I cannot help admiring at theſe congregations, and wiſhing that it was in my power to account for thoſe appearances almoſt peculiar to the ſeaſon. The two great motives which regulate the proceedings of the brute creation are love and hunger; the former incites animals to perpetuate their kind, the [146] latter induces them to preſerve individuals: whether either of theſe ſhould ſeem to be the ruling paſſion in the matter of congregating is to be conſidered. As to love, that is out of the queſtion at a time of the year when that ſoft paſſion is not indulged: beſides, during the amorous ſeaſon, ſuch a jealouſy prevails between the male birds that they can hardly bear to be together in the ſame hedge or field. Moſt of the ſinging and elation of ſpirits of that time ſeem to me to be the effect of rivalry and emulation: and it is to this ſpirit of jealouſy that I chiefly attribute the equal diſperſion of birds in the ſpring over the face of the country.

Now as to the buſineſs of food: as theſe animals are actuated by inſtinct to hunt for neceſſary food, they ſhould not, one would ſuppoſe, crowd together in purſuit of ſuſtenance at a time when it is moſt likely to fail; yet ſuch aſſociations do take place in hard weather chiefly, and thicken as the ſeverity increaſes. As ſome kind of ſelf-intereſt and ſelf-defence is no doubt the motive for the proceeding, may it not ariſe from the helpleſſneſs of their ſtate in ſuch rigorous ſeaſons; as men crowd together, when under great calamities, though they know not why? Perhaps approximation may diſpel ſome degree of cold; and a crowd may make each individual appear ſafer from the ravages of birds of prey and other dangers.

If I admire when I ſee how much congenerous birds love to congregate, I am the more ſtruck when I ſee incongruous ones in ſuch ſtrict amity. If we do not much wonder to ſee a flock of rooks uſually attended by a train of daws, yet it is ſtrange that the former ſhould ſo frequently have a flight of ſtarlings for their ſatellites. Is it becauſe rooks have a more diſcerning ſcent than their attenddants, and can lead them to ſpots more productive of food? Anatomiſts ſay that rooks, by reaſon of two large nerves which run down between the eyes into the upper mandible, have a more delicate feeling in their beaks than other round-billed birds, and can grope [147] for their meat when out of ſight. Perhaps then their aſſociates attend them on the motive of intereſt, as greyhounds wait on the motions of their finders; and as lions are ſaid to do on the yelpings of jackalls. Lapwings and ſtarlings ſometimes aſſociate.

LETTER XII. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

AS a gentleman and myſelf were walking on the fourth of laſt November round the ſea-banks at Newhaven, near the mouth of the Lewes river, in purſuit of natural knowledge, we were ſurpriſed to ſee three houſe-ſwallows gliding very ſwiftly by us. That morning was rather chilly, with the wind at north-weſt; but the tenor of the weather for ſome time before had been delicate, and the noons remarkably warm. From this incident, and from repeated accounts which I meet with, I am more and more induced to believe that many of the ſwallow kind do not depart from this iſland; but lay themſelves up in holes and caverns; and do, inſect-like and bat-like, come forth at mild times, and then retire again to their latebrae. Nor make I the leaſt doubt but that, if I lived at Newhaven, Seaford, Brighthelmſtone, or any of thoſe towns near the chalk-cliffs of the Suſſex coaſt, by proper obſervations, I ſhould ſee ſwallows ſtirring at periods of the winter, when the noons were ſoft and inviting, and the ſun warm and invigorating. And I am the more of this [148] opinion from what I have remarked during ſome of our late ſprings, that though ſome ſwallows did make their appearance about the uſual time, viz. the thirteenth or fourteenth of April, yet meeting with an harſh reception, and bluſtering cold north-eaſt winds, they immediately withdrew, abſconding for ſeveral days, till the weather gave them better encouragement.

LETTER XIII. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

WHILE I was in Suſſex laſt autumn my reſidence was at the village near Lewes, from whence I had formerly the pleaſure of writing to you. On the firſt of November I remarked that the old tortoiſe, formerly mentioned, began firſt to dig the ground in order to the forming it's hybernaculum, which it had fixed on juſt beſide a great tuft of hepaticas. It ſcrapes out the ground with it's fore-feet, and throws it up over it's back with it's hind; but the motion of it's legs is ridiculouſly ſlow, little exceeding the hour-hand of a clock; and ſuitable to the compoſure of an animal ſaid to be a whole month in performing one feat of copulation. Nothing can be more aſſiduous than this creature night and day in ſcooping the earth, and forcing it's great body into the cavity; but, as the noons of that ſeaſon proved unuſually warm and ſunny, it was continually interrupted, and called forth by the heat in the middle of the day; [149] and though I continued there till the thirteenth of November, yet the work remained unfiniſhed. Harſher weather, and froſty mornings, would have quickened it's operations. No part of it's behaviour ever ſtruck me more than the extreme timidity it always expreſſes with regard to rain; for though it has a ſhell that would ſecure it againſt the wheel of a loaded cart, yet does it diſcover as much ſolicitude about rain as a lady dreſſed in all her beſt attire, ſhuffling away on the firſt ſprinklings, and running it's head up in a corner. If attended to, it becomes an excellent weather-glaſs; for as ſure as it walks elate, and as it were on tiptoe, feeding with great earneſtneſs in a morning, ſo ſure will it rain before night. It is totally a diurnal animal, and never pretends to ſtir after it becomes dark. The tortoiſe, like other reptiles, has an arbitrary ſtomach as well as lungs; and can refrain from eating as well as breathing for a great part of the year. When firſt awakened it eats nothing; nor again in the autumn before it retires: through the height of the ſummer it feeds voraciouſly, devouring all the food that comes in it's way. I was much taken with it's ſagacity in diſcerning thoſe that do it kind offices: for, as ſoon as the good old lady comes in ſight who has waited on it for more than thirty years, it hobbles towards it's benefactreſs with aukward alacrity; but remains inattentive to ſtrangers. Thus not only ‘"the ox knoweth his owner, and the aſs his maſter's crib b,"’ but the moſt abject reptile and torpid of beings diſtinguiſhes the hand that feeds it, and is touched with the feelings of gratitude!

I am, &c. &c.

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

LETTER XIV. TO THE SAME.
[150]
DEAR SIR,

THE more I reflect on the [...] of animals, the more I am aſtoniſhed at it's effects. Nor is the violence of this affection more wonderful than the ſhortneſs of it's duration. Thus every hen is in her turn the virago of the yard, in proportion to the helpleſſneſs of her brood; and will fly in the face of a dog or a ſow in defence of thoſe chickens, which in a few weeks ſhe will drive before her with relentleſs cruelty.

This affection ſublimes the paſſions, quickens the invention, and ſharpens the ſagacity of the brute creation. Thus an hen, juſt become a mother, is no longer that placid bird ſhe uſed to be, but with feathers ſtanding an end, wings hovering, and clocking note, ſhe runs about like one poſſeſſed. Dams will throw themſelves in the way of the greateſt danger in order to avert it from their progeny. Thus a partridge will tumble along before a ſportſman in order to draw away the dogs from her helpleſs covey. In the time of nidification the moſt feeble birds will aſſault the moſt rapacious. All the hirundines of a village are up in arms at the ſight of an hawk, whom they will perſecute till he leaves that diſtrict. A very exact obſerver has often remarked that a pair of ravens neſting in the rock of Gibraltar would ſuffer no vulture or eagle to reſt near their ſtation, but would drive them from the hill with an amazing fury: even the [151] blue thruſh at the ſeaſon of breeding would dart out from the clefts of the rocks to chaſe away the keſtril, or the ſparrow-hawk. If you ſtand near the neſt of a bird that has young, ſhe will not be induced to betray them by an inadvertent fondneſs, but will wait about at a diſtance with meat in her mouth for an hour together.

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

The flycatcher of the Zoology (the ſtoparola of Ray), builds every year in the vines that grow on the walls of my houſe. A pair of theſe little birds had one year inadvertently placed their neſt on a naked bough, perhaps in a ſhady time, not being aware of the inconvenience that followed. But an hot ſunny ſeaſon coming on before the brood was half fledged, the reflection of the wall became inſupportable, and muſt inevitably have deſtroyed the tender young, had not affection ſuggeſted an expedient, and prompted the parent-birds to hover over the neſt all the hotter hours, while with wings expanded, and mouths gaping for breath, they ſcreened off the heat from their ſuffering offspring.

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

[152] A ſtill more remarkable mixture of ſagacity and inſtinct occurred to me one day as my people were pulling off the lining of an hotbed, in order to add ſome freſh dung. From out of the ſide of this bed leaped an animal with great agility that made a moſt groteſque figure; nor was it without great difficulty that it could be taken; when it proved to be a large white-bellied field-mouſe with three or four young clinging to her teats by their mouths and feet. It was amazing that the deſultory and rapid motions of this dam ſhould not oblige her litter to quit their hold, eſpecially when it appeared that they were ſo young as to be both naked and blind!

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

I am, &c.
LETTER XV. TO THE SAME.
[153]
DEAR SIR,

SOME young men went down lately to a pond on the verge of Wolmer-foreſt to hunt flappers, or young wild-ducks, many of which they caught, and, among the reſt, ſome very minute yet well-fledged wild-fowls alive, which upon examination I found to be teals. I did not know till then that teals ever bred in the ſouth of England, and was much pleaſed with the diſcovery: this I look upon as a great ſtroke in natural hiſtory.

We have had, ever ſince I can remember, a pair of white owls that conſtantly breed under the eaves of this church. As I have paid good attention to the manner of life of theſe birds during their ſeaſon of breeding, which laſts the ſummer through, the following remarks may not perhaps be unacceptable:—About an hour before ſunſet (for then the mice begin to run) they ſally forth in queſt of prey, and hunt all round the hedges of meadows and ſmall encloſures for them, which ſeem to be their only food. In this irregular country we can ſtand on an eminence and ſee them beat the fields over like a ſetting-dog, and often drop down in the graſs or corn. I have minuted theſe birds with my watch for an hour together, and have found that they return to their neſt, the one or the other of them, about once in five minutes; reflecting at the ſame time on the adroitneſs that every animal is poſſeſſed of as far as regards the well being of itſelf and offſpring. [154] But a piece of addreſs, which they ſhew when they return loaded, ſhould not, I think, be paſſed over in ſilence.—As they take their prey with their claws, ſo they carry it in their claws to their neſt: but, as the feet are neceſſary in their aſcent under the tiles, they conſtantly perch firſt on the roof of the chancel, and ſhift the mouſe from their claws to their bill, that the feet may be at liberty to take hold of the plate on the wall as they are riſing under the eaves.

White owls ſeem not (but in this I am not poſitive) to hoot at all: all that clamorous hooting appears to me to come from the wood kinds. The white owl does indeed ſnore and hiſs in a tremendous manner; and theſe menaces well anſwer the intention of intimidating: for I have known a whole village up in arms on ſuch an occaſion, imagining the church-yard to be full of goblins and ſpectres. White owls alſo often ſcream horribly as they fly along; from this ſcreaming probably aroſe the common people's imaginary ſpecies of ſcreech-owl, which they ſuperſtitiouſly think attends the windows of dying perſons. The plumage of the remiges of the wings of every ſpecies of owl that I have yet examined is remarkably ſoft and pliant. Perhaps it may be neceſſary that the wings of theſe birds ſhould not make much reſiſtance or ruſhing, that they may be enabled to ſteal through the air unheard upon a nimble and watchful quarry.

While I am talking of owls, it may not be improper to mention what I was told by a gentleman of the county of Wilts. As they were grubbing a vaſt hollow pollard-aſh that had been the manſion of owls for centuries, he diſcovered at the bottom a maſs of matter that at firſt he could not account for. After ſome examination, he found that it was a congeries of the bones of mice (and perhaps of birds and bats) that had been heaping together [155] for ages, being caſt up in pellets out of the crops of many generations of inhabitants. For owls caſt up the bones, fur, and feathers, of what they devour, after the manner of hawks. He believes, he told me, that there were buſhels of this kind of ſubſtance.

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

I am, &c.

It will be proper to premiſe here that the ſixteenth, eighteenth, twentieth, and twenty-firſt letters have been publiſhed already in the Philoſophical Tranſactions: but as nicer obſervation has furniſhed ſeveral corrections and additions, it is hoped that the republication of them will not give offence; eſpecially as theſe ſheets would be very imperfect without them, and as they will be new to many readers who had no opportunity of ſeeing them when they made their firſt appearance.

The hirundines are a moſt inoffenſive, harmleſs, entertaining, ſocial, and uſeful tribe of birds: they touch no fruit in our gardens; delight, all except one ſpecies, in attaching themſelves to our houſes; amuſe us with their migrations, ſongs, and marvellous agility; and clear our outlets from the annoyances of gnats and other troubleſome inſects. Some diſtricts in the ſouth ſeas, near [156] Guiaquil c, are deſolated, it ſeems, by the infinite ſwarms of venomous moſquitoes, which fill the air, and render thoſe coaſts inſupportable. It would be worth inquiring whether any ſpecies of hirundines is found in thoſe regions. Whoever contemplates the myriads of inſects that ſport in the ſun-beams of a ſummer evening in this country, will ſoon be convinced to what a degree our atmoſphere would be choaked with them was it not for the friendly interpoſition of the ſwallow tribe.

Many ſpecies of birds have their peculiar lice; but the hirundines alone ſeem to be annoyed with dipterous inſects, which infeſt every ſpecies, and are ſo large, in proportion to themſelves, that they muſt be extremely irkſome and injurious to them. Theſe are the hippoboſcae hirundinis, with narrow ſubulated wings, abounding in every neſt; and are hatched by the warmth of the bird's own body during incubation, and crawl about under it's feathers.

A ſpecies of them is familiar to horſemen in the ſouth of England under the name of foreſt-fly; and to ſome of ſide-fly, from it's runing ſideways like a crab. It creeps under the tails, and about the groins, of horſes, which, at their firſt coming out of the north, are rendered half frantic by the tickling ſenſation; while our own breed little regards them.

The curious Reaumur diſcovered the large eggs, or rather pupae, of theſe flies as big as the flies themſelves, which he hatched in his own boſom. Any perſon that will take the trouble to examine the old neſts of either ſpecies of ſwallows may find in them the black ſhining caſes or ſkins of the pupae of theſe inſects: but for other particulars, too long for this place, we refer the reader to l' Hiſtoire d' Inſectes of that admirable entomologiſt. Tom. iv, pl. 11.

LETTER XVI. TO THE SAME.
[157]
DEAR SIR,

IN obedience to your injunctions I ſit down to give you ſome account of the houſe-martin, or martlet; and, if my monography of this little domeſtic and familiar bird ſhould happen to meet with your approbation, I may probably ſoon extend my inquiries to the reſt of the Britiſh hirundines—the ſwallow, the ſwift, and the bankmartin.

A few houſe-martins begin to appear about the ſixteenth of April; uſually ſome few days later than the ſwallow. For ſome time after they appear the hirundines in general pay no attention to the buſineſs of nidification, but play and ſport about, either to recruit from the fatigue of their journey, if they do migrate at all, or elſe that their blood may recover it's true tone and texture after it has been ſo long benumbed by the ſeverities of winter. About the middle of May, if the weather be fine, the martin begins to think in earneſt of providing a manſion for it's family. The cruſt or ſhell of this neſt ſeems to be formed of ſuch dirt or loam as comes moſt readily to hand, and is tempered and wrought together with little bits of broken ſtraws to render it tough and tenacious. As this bird often builds againſt a perpendicular wall without any projecting ledge under, it requires it's utmoſt efforts to get the firſt foundation firmly fixed, ſo that it may ſafely carry the ſuperſtructure. On this occaſion the bird not only clings with it's claws, [158] but partly ſupports itſelf by ſtrongly inclining it's tail againſt the wall, making that a fulcrum; and thus ſteadied it works and plaſters the materials into the face of the brick or ſtone. But then, that this work may not, while it is ſoft and green, pull itſelf down by it's own weight, the provident architect has prudence and forbearance enough not to advance her work too faſt; but by building only in the morning, and by dedicating the reſt of the day to food and amuſement, gives it ſufficient time to dry and harden. About half an inch ſeems to be a ſufficient layer for a day. Thus careful workmen when they build mud-walls (informed at firſt perhaps by this little bird) raiſe but a moderate layer at a time, and then deſiſt; leſt the work ſhould become top-heavy, and ſo be ruined by it's own weight. By this method in about ten or twelve days is formed an hemiſpheric neſt with a ſmall aperture towards the top, ſtrong, compact, and warm; and perfectly fitted for all the purpoſes for which it was intended. But then nothing is more common than for the houſe-ſparrow, as ſoon as the ſhell is finiſhed, to ſeize on it as it's own, to eject the owner, and to line it after it's own manner.

After ſo much labour is beſtowed in erecting a manſion, as Nature ſeldom works in vain, martins will breed on for ſeveral years together in the ſame neſt, where it happens to be well ſheltered and ſecure from the injuries of weather. The ſhell or cruſt of the neſt is a ſort of ruſtic-work full of knobs and protuberances on the outſide: nor is the inſide of thoſe that I have examined ſmoothed with any exactneſs at all; but is rendered ſoft and warm, and fit for incubation, by a lining of ſmall ſtraws, graſſes, and feathers; and ſometimes by a bed of moſs interwoven with wool. In this neſt they tread, or engender, frequently during the time of building; and the hen lays from three to five white eggs.

[159] At firſt when the young are hatched, and are in a naked and helpleſs condition, the parent birds, with tender aſſiduity, carry out what comes away from their young. Was it not for this affectionate cleanlineſs the neſtlings would ſoon be burnt up, and deſtroyed in ſo deep and hollow a neſt, by their own cauſtic excrement. In the quadruped creation the ſame neat precaution is made uſe of; particularly among dogs and cats, where the dams lick away what proceeds from their young. But in birds there ſeems to be a particular proviſion, that the dung of neſtlings is enveloped in a tough kind of jelly, and therefore is the eaſier conveyed off without ſoiling or daubing. Yet, as nature is cleanly in all her ways, the young perform this office for themſelves in a little time by thruſting their tails out at the aperture of their neſt. As the young of ſmall birds preſently arrive at their [...], or full growth, they ſoon become impatient of confinement, and ſit all day with their heads out at the orifice, where the dams, by clinging to the neſt, ſupply them with food from morning to night. For a time the young are fed on the wing by their parents; but the feat is done by ſo quick and almoſt imperceptible a ſlight, that a perſon muſt have attended very exactly to their motions before he would be able to perceive it. As ſoon as the young are able to ſhift for themſelves, the dams immediately turn their thoughts to the buſineſs of a ſecond brood: while the firſt flight, ſhaken off and rejected by their nurſes, congregate in great flocks, and are the birds that are ſeen cluſtering and hovering on ſunny mornings and evenings round towers and ſteeples, and on the roofs of churches and houſes. Theſe congregatings uſually begin to take place about the firſt week in Auguſt; and therefore we may conclude that by that time the firſt flight is pretty well over. The young of this ſpecies do not quit their abodes all together; but the more forward birds get abroad ſome days [160] before the reſt. Theſe approaching the eaves of buildings, and playing about before them, make people think that ſeveral old ones attend one neſt. They are often capricious in fixing on a neſtingplace, beginning many edifices, and leaving them unfiniſhed; but when once a neſt is completed in a ſheltered place, it ſerves for ſeveral ſeaſons. Thoſe which breed in a ready finiſhed houſe get the ſtart in hatching of thoſe that build new by ten days or a fortnight. Theſe induſtrious artificers are at their labours in the long days before four in the morning: when they fix their materials they plaſter them on with their chins, moving their heads with a quick vibratory motion. They dip and waſh as they fly ſometimes in very hot weather, but not ſo frequently as ſwallows. It has been obſerved that martins uſually build to a north-eaſt or north-weſt aſpect, that the heat of the ſun may not crack and deſtroy their neſts: but inſtances are alſo remembered where they bred for many years in vaſt abundance in an hot ſtifled inn-yard, againſt a wall facing to the ſouth.

Birds in general are wiſe in their choice of ſituation: but in this neighbourhood every ſummer is ſeen a ſtrong proof to the contrary at an houſe without eaves in an expoſed diſtrict, where ſome martins build year by year in the corners of the windows. But, as the corners of theſe windows (which face to the ſouth-eaſt and ſouth-weſt) are too ſhallow, the neſts are waſhed down every hard rain; and yet theſe birds drudge on to no purpoſe from ſummer to ſummer, without changing their aſpect or houſe. It is a piteous ſight to ſee them labouring when half their neſt is waſhed away and bringing dirt—‘"generis lapſi ſarcire ruinas."’ Thus is inſtinct a moſt wonderful unequal faculty; in ſome inſtances ſo much above reaſon, in other reſpects ſo far below it! Martins love to frequent towns, eſpecially if there are great lakes and rivers at hand; nay [161] they even affect the cloſe air of London. And I have not only ſeen them neſting in the Borough, but even in the Strand and Fleet-ſtreet; but then it was obvious from the dingineſs of their aſpect that their feathers partook of the filth of that ſooty atmoſphere. Martins are by far the leaſt agile of the four ſpecies; their wings and tails are ſhort, and therefore they are not capable of ſuch ſurpriſing turns and quick and glancing evolutions as the ſwallow. Accordingly they make uſe of a placid eaſy motion in a middle region of the air, ſeldom mounting to any great height, and never ſweeping long together over the ſurface of the ground or water. They do not wander far for food, but affect ſheltered diſtricts, over ſome lake, or under ſome hanging wood, or in ſome hollow vale, eſpecially in windy weather. They breed the lateſt of all the ſwallow kind: in 1772 they had neſtlings on to October the twenty-firſt, and are never without unfledged young as late as Michaelmas.

As the ſummer declines the congregating flocks increaſe in numbers daily by the conſtant acceſſion of the ſecond broods; till at laſt they ſwarm in myriads upon myriads round the villages on the Thames, darkening the face of the ſky as they frequent the aits of that river, where they rooſt. They retire, the bulk of them I mean, in vaſt flocks together about the beginning of October: but have appeared of late years in a conſiderable flight in this neighbourhood, for one day or two, as late as November the third and ſixth, after they were ſuppoſed to have been gone for more than a fortnight. They therefore withdraw with us the lateſt of any ſpecies. Unleſs theſe birds are very ſhort-lived indeed, or unleſs they do not return to the diſtrict where they are bred, they muſt undergo vaſt devaſtations ſome how, and ſome where; for the birds that return yearly bear no manner of proportion to the birds that retire.

[162] Houſe-martins are diſtinguiſhed from their congeners by having their legs covered with ſoft downy feathers down to their toes. They are no ſongſters; but twitter in a pretty inward ſoft manner in their neſts. During the time of breeding they are often greatly moleſted with fleas.

I am, &c.
LETTER XVII. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

I RECEIVED your laſt favour juſt as I was ſetting out for this place; and am pleaſed to find that my monography met with your approbation. My remarks are the reſult of many years obſervation; and are, I truſt, true in the whole: though I do not pretend to ſay that they are perfectly void of miſtake, or that a more nice obſerver might not make many additions, ſince ſubjects of this kind are inexhauſtible.

If you think my letter worthy the notice of your reſpectable ſociety, you are at liberty to lay it before them; and they will conſider it, I hope, as it was intended, as an humble attempt to promote a more minute inquiry into natural hiſtory; into the life and converſation of animals. Perhaps hereafter I may be induced to take the houſe-ſwallow under conſideration; and from that proceed to the reſt of the Britiſh hirundines.

[163] Though I have now travelled the Suſſex-downs upwards of thirty years, yet I ſtill inveſtigate that chain of majeſtic mountains with freſh admiration year by year; and think I ſee new beauties every time I traverſe it. This range, which runs from Chicheſter eaſtward as far as Eaſt-Bourn, is about ſixty miles in length, and is called The South Downs, properly ſpeaking, only round Lewes. As you paſs along you command a noble view of the wild, or weald, on one hand, and the broad downs and ſea on the other. Mr. Ray uſed to viſit a familyd juſt at the foot of theſe hills, and was ſo raviſhed with the proſpect from Plumpton-plain, near Lewes, that he mentions thoſe ſcapes in his "Wiſdom of God in the Works of the Creation" with the utmoſt ſatisfaction, and thinks them equal to any thing he had ſeen in the fineſt parts of Europe.

For my own part, I think there is ſomewhat peculiarly ſweet and amuſing in the ſhapely figured aſpect of chalk-hills in preference to thoſe of ſtone, which are rugged, broken, abrupt, and ſhapeleſs.

Perhaps I may be ſingular in my opinion, and not ſo happy as to convey to you the ſame idea; but I never contemplate theſe mountains without thinking I perceive ſomewhat analogous to growth in their gentle ſwellings and ſmooth fungus-like protuberances, their fluted ſides, and regular hollows and ſlopes, that carry at once the air of vegetative dilation and expanſion—

—Or was there ever a time when theſe immenſe maſſes of calcarious matter were thrown into fermentation by ſome adventitious moiſture; were raiſed and leavened into ſuch ſhapes by ſome plaſtic power; and ſo made to ſwell and heave their broad backs into the ſky ſo much above the leſs animated clay of the wild below?

[164] By what I can gueſs from the admeaſurements of the hills that have been taken round my houſe, I ſhould ſuppoſe that theſe hills ſurmount the wild at an average at about the rate of five hundred feet.

One thing is very remarkable as to the ſheep: from the weſtward till you get to the river Adur all the flocks have horns, and ſmooth white faces, and white legs; and a hornleſs ſheep is rarely to be ſeen: but as ſoon as you paſs that river eaſtward, and mount Beeding-hill, all the flocks at once become hornleſs, or, as they call them, poll-ſheep; and have moreover black faces with a white tuft of wool on their foreheads, and ſpeckled and ſpotted legs: ſo that you would think that the flocks of Laban were paſturing on one ſide of the ſtream, and the variegated breed of his ſon-in-law Jacob were cantoned along on the other. And this diverſity holds good reſpectively on each ſide from the valley of Bramber and Beeding to the eaſtward, and weſtward all the whole length of the downs. If you talk with the ſhepherds on this ſubject, they tell you that the caſe has been ſo from time immemorial; and ſmile at your ſimplicity if you aſk them whether the ſituation of theſe two different breeds might not be reverſed? However, an intelligent friend of mine near Chicheſter is determined to try the experiment; and has this autumn, at the hazard of being laughed at, introduced a parcel of black-faced hornleſs rams among his horned weſtern ewes. The black-faced poll-ſheep have the ſhorteſt legs and the fineſt wool.

As I had hardly ever before travelled theſe downs at ſo late a ſeaſon of the year, I was determined to keep as ſharp a look-out as poſſible ſo near the ſouthern coaſt, with reſpect to the ſummer ſhortwinged birds of paſſage. We make great inquiries concerning the withdrawing of the ſwallow kind, without examining enough into [165] the cauſes why this tribe is never to be ſeen in winter: for, entre nous, the diſappearing of the latter is more marvellous than that of the former, and much more unaccountable. The hirundines, if they pleaſe, are certainly capable of migration; and yet no doubt are often found in a torpid ſtate: but redſtarts, nightingales, white-throats, black-caps, &c. &c. are very ill provided for long flights; have never been once found, as I ever heard of, in a torpid ſtate, and yet can never be ſuppoſed, in ſuch troops, from year to year to dodge and elude the eyes of the curious and inquiſitive, which from day to day diſcern the other ſmall birds that are known to abide our winters. But, notwithſtanding all my care, I ſaw nothing like a ſummer bird of paſſage: and, what is more ſtrange, not one wheat-ear, though they abound ſo in the autumn as to be a conſiderable perquiſite to the ſhepherds that take them; and though many are to be ſeen to my knowledge all the winter through in many parts of the ſouth of England. The moſt intelligent ſhepherds tell me that ſome few of theſe birds appear on the downs in March, and then withdraw to breed probably in warrens and ſtonequarries: now and then a neſt is plowed up in a fallow on the downs under a furrow, but it is thought a rarity. At the time of wheat-harveſt they begin to be taken in great numbers; are ſent for ſale in vaſt quantities to Brighthelmſtone and Tunbridge; and appear at the tables of all the gentry that entertain with any degree of elegance. About Michaelmas they retire and are ſeen no more till March. Though theſe birds are, when in ſeaſon, in great plenty on the ſouth downs round Lewes, yet at Eaſt-Bourn, which is the eaſtern extremity of thoſe downs, they abound much more. One thing is very remarkable—that though in the height of the ſeaſon ſo many hundreds of dozens are taken, yet they never are ſeen to ſlock; and it is a rare thing to ſee more than three or four at a time: ſo that there [166] muſt be a perpetual flitting and conſtant progreſſive ſucceſſion. It does not appear that any wheat-ears are taken to the weſtward of Houghton-bridge, which ſtands on the river Arun.

I did not fail to look particularly after my new migration of ring-ouſels; and to take notice whether they continued on the downs to this ſeaſon of the year; as I had formerly remarked them in the month of October all the way from Chicheſter to Lewes whereever there were any ſhrubs and covert: but not one bird of this ſort came within my obſervation. I only ſaw a few larks and whinchats, ſome rooks, and ſeveral kites and buzzards.

About Midſummer a flight of croſs-bills comes to the pine-groves about this houſe, but never makes any long ſtay.

The old tortoiſe, that I have mentioned in a former letter, ſtill continues in this garden; and retired under ground about the twentieth of November, and came out again for one day on the thirtieth: it lies now buried in a wet ſwampy border under a wall facing to the ſouth, and is enveloped at preſent in mud and mire!

Here is a large rookery round this houſe, the inhabitants of which ſeem to get their livelihood very eaſily; for they ſpend the greateſt part of the day on their neſt-trees when the weather is mild. Theſe rooks retire every evening all the winter from this rookery, where they only call by the way, as they are going to rooſt in deep woods: at the dawn of day they always reviſit their neſt-trees, and are preceded a few minutes by a flight of daws, that act, as it were, as their harbingers.

I am, &c.
LETTER XVIII. TO THE SAME.
[167]
DEAR SIR,

THE houſe-ſwallow, or chimney-ſwallow, is undoubtedly the firſt comer of all the Britiſh hirundines; and appears in general on or about the thirteenth of April, as I have remarked from many years obſervation. Not but now and then a ſtraggler is ſeen much earlier: and, in particular, when I was a boy I obſerved a ſwallow for a whole day 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 viſiters happen to find froſt and ſnow, as was the caſe of the two dreadful ſprings of 1770 and 1771, they immediately withdraw for a time. A circumſtance this much more in favour of hiding than migration; ſince it is much more probable that a bird ſhould retire to it's hybernaculum juſt at hand, than return for a week or two only to warmer latitudes.

The ſwallow, though called the chimney-ſwallow, by no means builds altogether in chimnies, but often within barns and outhouſes againſt the rafters; and ſo ſhe did in Virgil's time:

— "Antè
"Garrula quàm tignis nidos ſuſpendat hirundo."

[168] In Sweden ſhe builds in barns, and is called ladu ſwala, the barnſwallow. Beſides, in the warmer parts of Europe there are no chimnies to houſes, except they are Engliſh-built: in theſe countries ſhe conſtructs her neſt in porches, and gate-ways, and galleries, and open halls.

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

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

Wonderful is the addreſs which this adroit bird ſhews all day long in aſcending and deſcending with ſecurity through ſo narrow a paſs. When hovering over the mouth of the funnel, the vibrations of her wings acting on the confined air occaſion a rumbling like thunder. It is not improbable that the dam ſubmits to this inconvenient ſituation ſo low in the ſhaft, in order to ſecure her broods from rapacious birds, and particularly from owls, which [169] frequently fall down chimnies, 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 certain ſignal given, the dam and the neſtling advance, riſing towards each other, and meeting at an angle; the young one all the while uttering ſuch a little quick note of gratitude and complacency, that a perſon muſt have paid very little regard to the wonders of Nature that has not often remarked this feat.

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

All the ſummer long is the ſwallow a moſt inſtructive pattern of unwearied induſtry and affection; 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 [170] 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, reſembling the noiſe at the ſhutting of a watch-caſe; but the motion of the mandibles are too quick for the eye.

The ſwallow, probably the male bird, is the excubitor to houſemartins, and other little birds, announcing the approach of birds of prey. For as ſoon as an hawk appears, with a ſhrill alarming note he calls all the ſwallows and martins about him; who purſue in a body, and buffet and ſtrike their enemy till they have driven him from the village, darting down from above on his back, and riſing in a perpendicular line in perfect ſecurity. This bird alſo will ſound the alarm, and ſtrike at cats when they climb on the roofs of houſes, or otherwiſe approach the neſts. Each ſpecies of hirundo drinks as it flies along, ſipping the ſurface of the water; but the ſwallow alone, in general, waſhes on the wing, by dropping into a pool for many times together: in very hot weather houſemartins and bank-martins dip and waſh a little.

The ſwallow is a delicate ſongſter, and in ſoft ſunny weather ſings both perching and flying; on trees in a kind of concert, and on chimney tops: is alſo a bold flyer, ranging to diſtant downs and commons even in windy weather, which the other ſpecies 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 ſculking 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.

[171] This ſpecies feeds much on little coleoptera, as well as on gnats and flies; and often ſettles on dug ground, or paths, for gravels to grind and digeſt it's food. Before they depart, for ſome weeks, to a bird, they forſake houſes and chimnies, and rooſt in trees; and uſually withdraw about the beginning of October; though ſome few ſtragglers may appear on at times till the firſt week in November.

Some few pairs haunt the new and open ſtreets of London next the fields, but do not enter, like the houſe-martin, the cloſe and crowded parts of the city.

Both male and female are diſtinguiſhed from their 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.

After this circumſtantial detail of the life and diſcerning [...] of the ſwallow, I ſhall add, for your farther amuſement, an anecdote or two not much in favour of her ſagacity:—

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 it's 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 it's 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 [172] 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 naturef.

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

I am, With all reſpect, &c. &c.
LETTER XIX. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

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

[173] As to the quotations, it is difficult to ſay preciſely which ſpecies of hirundo Virgil might intend in the lines in queſtion, ſince the ancients did not attend to ſpecific differences like modern naturaliſts: yet ſomewhat may be gathered, enough to incline me to ſuppoſe that in the two paſſages quoted the poet had his eye on the ſwallow.

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

As to the ſimile, too much ſtreſs muſt not be laid on it: yet the epithet nigra ſpeaks plainly in favour of the ſwallow, whoſe back and wings are very black; while the rump of the martin is milkwhite, it's back and wings blue, and all it's under part white as ſnow. Nor can the clumſy motions (comparatively clumſy) of the martin well repreſent the ſudden and artful evolutions and quick turns which Juturna gave to her brother's chariot, ſo as to elude the eager purſuit of the enraged Aeneas. The verb ſonat alſo ſeems to imply a bird that is ſomewhat loquaciousg.

[174] We have had a very wet autumn and winter, ſo as to raiſe the ſprings to a pitch beyond any thing ſince 1764; which was a remarkable year for floods and high waters. The land-ſprings, which we call lavants, break out much on the downs of Suſſex, Hampſhire, and Wiltſhire. The country people ſay when the lavants riſe corn will always be dear; meaning that when the earth is ſo glutted with water as to ſend forth ſprings on the downs and uplands, that the corn-vales muſt be drowned: and ſo it has proved for theſe ten or eleven years paſt. For land-ſprings have never obtained more ſince the memory of man than during that period; nor has there been known a greater ſcarcity of all ſorts of grain, conſidering the great improvements of modern huſbandry. Such a run of wet ſeaſons a century or two ago would, I am perſuaded, have occaſioned a famine. Therefore 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 remarkably bad: and our wheat on the ground, by the continual late ſudden viciſſitudes from fierce froſt to pouring rains, looks poorly; and the turnips rot very faſt.

I am, &c.
LETTER XX. TO THE SAME.
[175]
DEAR SIR,

THE ſand-martin, or bank-martin, is by much the leaſt of any of the Britiſh hirundines; and, as far as we have ever ſeen, the ſmalleſt known hirundo: though Briſſon aſſerts that there is one much ſmaller, and that is the hirundo eſculenta.

But it is much to be regretted that it is ſcarce poſſible for any obſerver to be ſo full and exact as he could wiſh in reciting the circumſtances attending the life and converſation of this little bird, ſince it is fera naturâ, at leaſt in this part of the kingdom, diſclaiming all domeſtic attachments, and haunting wild heaths and commons where there are large lakes: while the other ſpecies, eſpecially the ſwallow and houſe-martin, are remarkably gentle and domeſticated, and never ſeem to think themſelves ſafe but under the protection of man.

Here are in this pariſh, in the ſand-pits and banks of the lakes of Woolmer-foreſt, ſeveral colonies of theſe birds; and yet they are never ſeen in the village; nor do they at all frequent the cottages that are ſcattered about in that wild diſtrict. The only inſtance I ever remember where this ſpecies haunts any building is at the town of Biſhop's Waltham, in this county, where many ſand-martins neſtle and breed in the ſcaffold-holes of the back-wall of William of Wykeham's ſtables: but then this wall ſtands in a very ſequeſtered and [176] retired encloſure, and faces upon a large and beautiful lake. And indeed this ſpecies ſeems ſo to delight in large waters, that no inſtance occurs of their abounding, but near vaſt pools or rivers: and in particular it has been remarked that they ſwarm in the banks of the Thames in ſome places below London-bridge.

It is curious to obſerve with what different degrees of architectonic ſkill Providence has endowed birds of the ſame genus, and ſo nearly correſpondent in their general mode of life! for while the ſwallow and the houſe-martin diſcover the greateſt addreſs in raiſing and ſecurely fixing cruſts or ſhells of loam as cunabula for their young, the bank-martin terebrates a round and regular hole in the ſand or earth, which is ſerpentine, horizontal, and about two feet deep. At the inner end of this burrow does this bird depoſit, in a good degree of ſafety, her rude neſt, conſiſting of fine graſſes and feathers, uſually gooſe-feathers, very inartificially laid together.

Perſeverance will accompliſh any thing: 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 diſpatch: and could remark how much they had ſcooped that day by the freſh ſand which ran down the bank, and was of a different colour from that which lay looſe and bleached in the ſun.

In what ſpace of time theſe little artiſts are able to mine and finiſh theſe cavities I have never been able to diſcover, for reaſons given above; but it would be a matter worthy of obſervation, where it falls in the way of any naturaliſt to make his remarks. This I have often taken notice of, that ſeveral holes of different depths are left unfiniſhed at the end of ſummer. To imagine that [177] theſe beginnings were intentionally made in order to be in the greater forwardneſs for next ſpring, is allowing perhaps too much foreſight and rerum prudentia to a ſimple bird. May not the cauſe of theſe latebrae being left unfiniſhed ariſe from their meeting in thoſe places with ſtrata too harſh, hard, and ſolid, for their purpoſe, which they relinquiſh, and go to 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 flounder, and threatening to overwhelm them and their labours?

One thing is remarkable—that, after ſome years, the old holes are forſaken and new ones bored; perhaps becauſe the old habitations grow foul and fetid from long uſe, or becauſe they may ſo abound with fleas as to become untenantable. This ſpecies of ſwallow moreover is ſtrangely annoyed with fleas: and we have ſeen fleas, bed-fleas (pulex 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 cryptogame, carrying on the buſineſs of nidification, incubation, and the ſupport of it's young in the dark, it would not be ſo eaſy to aſcertain the time of breeding, were it not for the coming forth of the broods, which appear much about the time, or rather ſomewhat earlier than thoſe of the ſwallow. The neſtlings are ſupported in common like thoſe of their congeners, with gnats and other ſmall inſects; and ſometimes they are fed with libellulae [178] (dragon-flies) almoſt as long as themſelves. In the laſt week in June we have ſeen a row of theſe ſitting on a rail near a great pool as perchers; and ſo young and helpleſs, as eaſily to be taken by hand: but whether the dams ever feed them on the wing, as ſwallows and houſe-martins do, we have never yet been able to determine; nor do we know whether they purſue and attack birds of prey.

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

Theſe hirundines are no ſongſters, but rather mute, making only a little harſh noiſe when a perſon approaches their neſts. They ſeem not to be 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. 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 ſingle cottagechimney that has not it's ſwallow; while the bank-martins, ſcattered here and there, live a ſequeſtered life among ſome abrupt ſand-hills, and in the banks of ſome few rivers.

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

[179] Notwithſtanding what has been advanced above, ſome few ſandmartins, I ſee, haunt the ſkirts of London, frequenting the dirty pools in Saint George's-Fields, and about White-Chapel. 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 Willughby, 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 Montagna.

LETTER XXI. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

AS the ſwift or black-martin is the largeſt of the Britiſh hirundines, ſo is it undoubtedly the lateſt comer. For I remember but one inſtance of it's appearing before the laſt week in April: and in ſome of our late froſty, harſh ſprings, it has not been ſeen till the begining of May. This ſpecies uſually arrives in pairs.

[180] The ſwift, like the ſand-martin, is very defective in architecture, making no cruſt, or ſhell, for it's 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 remembering that I have ſeen them ſquabbling together at the entrance of their holes; and the ſparrows up in arms, and much-diſconcerted at theſe intruders. And yet I am aſſured, by a nice obſerver in ſuch matters, that they do collect feathers for their neſts in Andaluſia; and that he has ſhot them with ſuch materials in their mouths.

Swifts, like ſand-martins, carry on the buſineſs of 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 cannot 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 ninth of June. In general they haunt tall buildings, churches, and ſteeples, and breed only in ſuch: yet in this village ſome pairs frequent the loweſt and meaneſt cottages, and educate their young under thoſe thatched roofs. We remember but one inſtance where they breed out of buildings; and that is in the ſides of a deep chalkpit near the town of Odiham, in this county, where we have ſeen many pairs entering the crevices, and ſkimming and ſqueaking round the precipices.

As I have regarded theſe amuſive birds with no ſmall attention, if I ſhould advance ſomething new and peculiar with reſpect to them, and different from all other birds, I might perhaps be credited; [181] eſpecially as my aſſertion is the reſult of many years exact obſervation. The fact that I would advance is, that ſwifts tread, or copulate, on the wing: and I would wiſh any nice obſerver, that is ſtartled at this ſuppoſition, to uſe his own eyes, and I think he will ſoon be convinced. In another claſs of animals, viz. the inſect, nothing is ſo common as to ſee the different ſpecies of many genera in conjunction as they fly. The ſwift is almoſt 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.

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

This hirundo differs widely from it's 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 thundry weather, when it expreſſes great alacrity, and calls [180] [...] [181] [...] [182] forth all it's powers. In hot mornings ſeveral, getting together in little parties, daſh round the ſteeples and churches, ſqueaking as they go in a very clamorous manner: theſe, by nice obſervers, are ſuppoſed to be males ſerenading their ſitting hens; and not without reaſon, ſince they ſeldom ſqueak till they come cloſe to the walls or eaves, and ſince thoſe within utter at the ſame time a little inward note of complacency.

When the hen has ſat hard all day, ſhe ruſhes forth juſt as it is almoſt dark, and ſtretches and relieves her weary limbs, and ſnatches a ſcanty meal for a few minutes, and then returns to her duty of incubation. Swifts, when wantonly and cruelly ſhot while they have young, diſcover a little lump of inſects in their mouths, which they pouch and hold under their tongue. In general they feed in a much higher diſtrict than the other ſpecies; a proof that gnats and other inſects do alſo abound to a conſiderable height in the air: they alſo range to vaſt diſtances; ſince loco-motion is no labour to them, who are endowed with ſuch wonderful powers of wing. Their powers ſeem to be in proportion to their leavers; and their wings are longer in proportion than thoſe of almoſt any other bird. When they mute, or caſe themſelves in flight, they raiſe their wings, and make them meet over their backs.

At ſome certain times in the ſummer I had remarked that ſwifts were hawking very low for hours together over pools and ſtreams; and could not help inquiring into the object of their purſuit that induced them to deſcend ſo much below their uſual range. After ſome trouble, I ſound that they were taking phryganeae, ephemerae, and libellulae (cadew-flies, may-flies, and dragon-flies) that were juſt emerged out of 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 nouriſhment.

[183] 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 thirtieth of laſt June I untiled the eaves of an houſe where many pairs build, and found in each neſt only two ſquab, naked pulli: on the eighth 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 continually feeding them every two or three minutes; while ſwifts, that have but two young to maintain, are much at their leiſure, and do not attend on their neſts for hours together.

Sometimes they purſue and ſtrike at hawks that come in their way; but not with that vehemence and fury that ſwallows expreſs on the ſame occaſion. They are out all day long in wet days, feeding 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; and on ſuch days withdraw, and are ſcarce ever ſeen.

There is a circumſtance reſpecting the colour of ſwifts, which ſeems not to be unworthy our attention. When they arrive in the ſpring they are all over of a gloſſy, dark ſoot-colour, except their 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 return gloſſy again in the ſpring. Now, if [184] they purſue the ſun into lower latitudes, as ſome ſuppoſe, in order to enjoy a perpetual ſummer, why do they not return bleached? Do they not rather perhaps retire to reſt for a ſeaſon, and at that juncture moult and change their feathers, ſince all other birds are known to moult ſoon after the ſeaſon of breeding?

Swifts are very anomalous in many particulars, diſſenting from all their congeners not only in the number of their young, but in breeding but once in a ſummer; whereas all the other Britiſh hirundines breed 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.

But in nothing are ſwifts more ſingular than in their early retreat. They retire, as to the main body of them, by the tenth of Auguſt, and ſometimes a few days ſooner: and every ſtraggler invariably withdraws by the twentieth, 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 regulated in their motions with us by a failure of ſood, 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!

[185] Theſe hirundines never perch on trees or roofs, and ſo never congregate with their congeners. They are fearleſs while haunting their neſting places, and are not to be ſcared with a gun; and are often beaten down with poles and cudgels as they ſtoop to go under the eaves. Swifts are much infeſted with thoſe peſts to the genus called hippoboſcae hirundinis; and often wriggle and ſcratch themſelves, in their flight, to get rid of that clinging annoyance.

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

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

The particular formation of the foot diſcriminates the ſwift from all the Britiſh hirundines; and indeed from all other known birds, the hirundo melba, or great white-bellied ſwift of Gibraltar, excepted; for it is ſo diſpoſed as to carry ‘"omnes quatuor digitos anticos"’ all it's four toes forward; beſides the leaſt toe, which ſhould be the back-toe, conſiſts of one bone alone, and the other three only of two 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 mandible, have induced a diſcerning h naturaliſt to ſuppoſe that this ſpecies might conſtitute a genus per ſe.

[186] In London a party of ſwifts frequents the Tower, playing and feeding over the river juſt below the bridge: others haunt ſome of the churches of the Borough next the fields; 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 it's nidification.

Swifts feed on coleoptera, or ſmall beetles with hard caſes over their wings, as well as on the ſofter inſects; but it does not appear how they can procure gravel to grind their food, as ſwallows do, ſince they never ſettle on the ground. Young ones, over-run with hippoboſcae, 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 unlikely roofs: a good proof this that the ſame birds return to the ſame ſpots. As they muſt ſtoop very low to get up under theſe humble eaves, cats lie in wait, and ſometimes catch them on the wing.

On the fifth of July, 1775, I again untiled part of a roof over the neſt of a ſwift. The dam ſat in the neſt; but ſo ſtrongly was ſhe affected by natural [...] 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 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 a little more than a fortnight would be able to daſh through the air almoſt with the [187] inconceivable ſwiftneſs of a meteor; and perhaps, in their emigration, muſt traverſe vaſt continents and oceans as diſtant as the equator. So ſoon does Nature advance ſmall birds to their [...], or ſtate of perfection; while the progreſſive growth of men and large quadrupeds is ſlow and tedious!

I am, &c.
LETTER XXII. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

BY means of a ſtraight cottage-chimney I had an opportunity this ſummer of remarking, at my leiſure, how ſwallows aſcend and deſcend through the ſhaft: but my pleaſure, in contemplating the addreſs with which this feat was performed to a conſiderable depth in the chimney, was ſomewhat interrupted by apprehenſions leſt my eyes might undergo the ſame fate with thoſe of Tobit. i

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 [188] ſwallow was ſeen firſt on April the 4th, the ſwift on April the 24th, the bank-martin on April the 12th, and the houſe-martin not till April the 30th. At South Zele, Devonſhire, ſwallows did not arrive till April the 25th; ſwifts, in plenty, on May the 1ſt; and houſe-martins not till the middle of May. At Blackburn, in Lancaſhire, ſwifts were ſeen April the 28th, ſwallows April the 29th, houſe-martins May the 1ſt. Do theſe different dates, in ſuch diſtant diſtrics, prove any thing 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.

Linnaeus ſays that hawks ‘"paciſcuntur inducias cum avibus, quamdiu cuculus cuculat:"’ but it appears to me that, during that period, many little birds are taken and deſtroyed by birds of prey, as may be ſeen by their feathers left in lanes and under hedges.

The miſſel-thruſh is, while breeding, fierce and pugnacious, driving ſuch birds as approach its neſt, with great fury, to a diſtance. The Welch call it pen y llwyn, the head or maſter of the coppice. He ſuffers no magpie, jay, or blackbird, to enter the garden where he haunts; and is, for the time, a good guard to the new-ſown legumens. In general he is very ſucceſsful in the defence of his family: but once I obſerved in my garden, that ſeveral magpies came determined to ſtorm the neſt of a miſſelthruſh: the dams defended their manſion with great vigour, and fought reſolutely pro aris & focis; but numbers at laſt prevailed, they tore the neſt to pieces, and ſwallowed the young alive.

[189] 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 diſcoloured and blighted our wheat. The crop of hops promiſes to be very large.

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

"And Wiſdom at one entrance quite ſhut out."
LETTER XXIII. TO THE SAME.
[190]
DEAR SIR,

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

As the morning advanced the ſun became bright and warm, and the day turned out one of thoſe moſt lovely ones which no ſeaſon but the autumn produces; cloudleſs, calm, ſerene, and worthy of the South of France itſelf.

About nine an appearance very unuſual began to demand our attention, a ſhower of cobwebs falling from very elevated regions, and continuing, without any interruption, till the cloſe of the day. Theſe webs were not ſingle filmy threads, floating in the air in all directions, but perfect flakes or rags; ſome near an [191] inch broad, and five or ſix long, which fell with a degree of velocity that ſhewed 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 would be difficult to ſay; but we know that it reached Bradley, Selborne, and Alresford, three places which lie in a ſort of a triangle, the ſhorteſt of whoſe ſides is about eight miles in extent.

At the ſecond of thoſe places there was a gentleman (for whoſe veracity and intelligent turn we have the greateſt veneration) who obſerved it the moment he got abroad; but concluded that, as ſoon as he came upon the hill above his houſe, where he took his morning rides, he ſhould be higher than this meteor, which he imagined might have been blown, like Thiſtle-down, from the common above: but, to his great aſtoniſhment, when he rode to the moſt elevated part of the down, 300 feet above his fields, he found the webs in appearance ſtill as much above him as before; ſtill 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 obſerved; but on this day the flakes hung in the trees and hedges ſo thick, that a diligent perſon ſent out might have gathered baſkets full.

The remark that I ſhall make on theſe cobweb-like appearances, called goſſamer, is, that, ſtrange and ſuperſtitious as the notions about them were formerly, nobody in theſe days doubts but that they are the real production of ſmall ſpiders, which ſwarm in the fields in fine weather in autumn, and have a power of ſhooting out webs from their tails ſo as to render themſelves buoyant, and [192] lighter than air. But why theſe apterous inſects ſhould that day take ſuch a wonderful aërial excurſino, and why their webs ſhould at once become ſo groſs and material as to be conſiderably more weighty than air, and to deſcend with precipitation, is a matter beyond my ſkill. 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, [ſee his Letters to Mr. Ray] then, when they were become heavier than the air, they muſt fall.

Every day in fine weather, in autumn chiefly, do I ſee thoſe ſpiders ſhooting out their webs and mounting aloft: they will go off from your finger if you will take them into your hand. Laſt ſummer one alighted on my book as I was reading in the parlour; and, running to the top of the page, and ſhooting out a web, took it's 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 loco-motive power without the uſe of wings, and to move in the air faſter than the air itſelf.

LETTER XXIV. TO THE SAME.
[193]
DEAR SIR,

THERE is a wonderful ſpirit of ſociality in the brute creation, independent of ſexual attachment: the congregating of gregarious birds in the winter is a remarkable inſtance.

Many horſes, though quiet with company, will not ſtay one minute in a field by themſelves: the ſtrongeſt fences cannot reſtrain them. My neighbour's horſe will not only not ſtay by himſelf abroad, but he will not bear to be left alone in a ſtrange ſtable without diſcovering the utmoſt impatience, and endeavouring to break the rack and manger with his fore feet. He has been known to leap out at a ſtable-window, through which dung was thrown, after company; and yet in other reſpects is remarkably quiet. Oxen and cows will not fatten by themſelves; but will neglect the fineſt paſture that is not recommended by ſociety. It would be needleſs to inſtance in ſheep, which conſtantly flock together.

But this propenſity ſeems not to be confined to animals of the ſame ſpecies; for we know a doe, ſtill alive, that was brought up from a little ſawn 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 [194] gate, or ſtile, till ſhe returns to the cows, who, with fierce lowings and menacing horns, drive the aſſailants quite out of the paſture.

Even great diſparity of kind and ſize does not always prevent ſocial advances and mutual fellowſhip. For a very intelligent and obſervant perſon has aſſured me that, in the former part of his life, keeping but one horſe, he happened alſo on a time to have but one ſolitary hen. Theſe two incongruous animals ſpent much of their time together in a lonely orchard, where they ſaw no creature but each other. By degrees an apparent regard began to take place between theſe two ſequeſtered individuals. The fowl would approach the quadruped with notes of complacency, rubbing herſelf gently againſt his legs: while the horſe would look down with ſatisfaction, and move with the greateſt caution and circumſpection, leſt he ſhould trample on his dimunitive companion. Thus, by mutual good offices, each ſeemed to conſole the vacant hours of the other: ſo that Milton, when he puts the following ſentiment in the mouth of Adam, ſeems to be ſomewhat miſtaken:

"Much leſs can bird with beaſt, or fiſh with fowl,
"So well converſe, nor with the ox the ape."
I am, &c.
LETTER XXV. TO THE SAME.
[195]
DEAR SIR,

WE have two gangs or hordes of gypſies which infeſt the ſouth and weſt of England, and come round in their circuit two or three times in the year. One of theſe tribes calls itſelf by the noble name of Stanley, of which I have nothing particular to ſay; but the other is diſtinguiſhed by an appellative ſomewhat remarkable—As far as their harſh gibberiſh can be underſtood, they ſeem to ſay that the name of their clan is Curleople: now the termination of this word is apparently Grecian: and as Mezeray and the graveſt hiſtorians all agree that theſe vagrants did certainly migrate from Egypt and the Eaſt, two or three centuries ago, and ſo ſpread by degrees over Europe, may not this family-name, a little corrupted, be the very name they brought with them from the Levant? It would be matter of ſome curioſity, could one meet with an intelligent perſon among them, to inquire whether, in their jargon, they ſtill 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 remains of their native language might ſtill be diſcovered.

With regard to thoſe peculiar people, the gypſies, one thing is very remarkable, and eſpecially as they came from warmer climates; and that is, that while other beggars lodge in barns, [196] ſtables, and cow-houſes, theſe ſturdy ſavages ſeem to pride themſelves in braving the ſeverities of winter, and in living ſub dio the whole year round. Laſt September was as wet a month as ever was known; and yet during thoſe deluges did a young 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 a blanket extended on a few hazel-rods bent hoop faſhion, and ſtuck into the earth at each end, in circumſtances too trying for a cow in the ſame condition: yet within this garden there was a large hop-kiln, into the chambers of which ſhe might have retired, had ſhe thought ſhelter an object worthy her attention.

Europe itſelf, it ſeems, cannot ſet bounds to the rovings of theſe vagabonds; for Mr. Bell, in his return from Peking, met a gang of theſe people on the confines of Tartary, who were endeavouring to penetrate thoſe deſerts and try their fortune in China k.

Gypſies are called in French, Bohemiens; in Italian and modern Greek, Zingani.

I am, &c.
LETTER XXVI. TO THE SAME.
[197]
DEAR SIR,
"Hîc—taedae pingues, hîc plurimus ignis
"Semper, et aſſiduâ poſtes fuligine nigri."

I SHALL make no apology for troubling you with the detail of a very ſimple piece of domeſtic oeconomy, being ſatisfied that you think nothing beneath your attention that tends to utility: the matter alluded to is the uſe of ruſhes inſtead of candles, which I am well aware prevails in many diſtricts beſides this; but as I know there are countries alſo where it does not obtain, and as I have conſidered the ſubject with ſome degree of exactneſs, I ſhall proceed in my humble ſtory, and leave you to judge of the expediency.

The proper ſpecies of ruſh for this purpoſe ſeems to be the juncus effuſus, 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 labourers, women, and children, make it their buſineſs to procure and prepare them. As ſoon as they are cut they muſt be flung into water, and kept there; for otherwiſe they will dry and ſhrink, and the peel will not run. At firſt a perſon would [198] find it no eaſy matter to diveſt a ruſh of it's peel or rind, ſo as to leave one regular, narrow, even rib from top to bottom that may ſupport the pith: but this, like other feats, ſoon becomes familiar even to children; and we have ſeen an old woman, ſtone-blind, performing this buſineſs with great diſpatch, and ſeldom failing to ſtrip them with the niceſt regularity. When theſe junci are thus far prepared, they muſt lie out on the graſs to be bleached, and take the dew for ſome nights, and afterwards be dried in the ſun.

Some addreſs is required in dipping theſe ruſhes in the ſcalding fat or greaſe; but this knack alſo is to be attained by practice. The careful wife of an induſtrious Hampſhire labourer obtains all her fat for nothing; for ſhe ſaves the ſcummings of her bacon-pot for this uſe; and, if the greaſe abounds with ſalt, ſhe cauſes the ſalt to precipitate to the bottom, by ſetting the ſcummings 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 procured for four pence; and about ſix pounds of greaſe will dip a pound of ruſhes; and one pound of ruſhes may be bought for one ſhilling: ſo that a pound of ruſhes, medicated and ready for uſe, will coſt three ſhillings. If men that keep bees will mix a little wax with the greaſe, it will give it a conſiſtency, and render it more cleanly, and make the ruſhes burn longer: mutton-ſuet would have the ſame effect.

A good ruſh, which meaſured in length two feet four inches and an 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 [199] then the wick of thoſe have two ribs of the rind, or peel, to ſupport the pith, while the wick of the dipped ruſh has but one. The two ribs are intended to impede the progreſs of the flame and make the candle laſt.

In a pound of dry ruſhes, avoirdupois, which I cauſed to be weighed and numbered, we found upwards of one 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. According to this account each ruſh, before dipping, coſts 1/33 of a farthing, and 1/11 afterwards. Thus a poor family will enjoy 5½ hours of comfortable light for a farthing. An experienced old houſekeeper aſſures me that one pound and an half of ruſhes completely ſupplies his family the year round, ſince working people burn no candle in the long days, becauſe they riſe and go to bed by daylight.

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

While on the ſubject of rural oeconomy, it may not be improper to mention a pretty implement of houſewifery that we have ſeen no where elſe; that is, little neat beſoms which our foreſters make from the ſtalks of the polytricum commune, or great golden maiden-hair, which they call ſilk-wood, and find plenty in the bogs. When this moſs is well combed and dreſſed, and diveſted of it's outer ſkin, it becomes of a beautiful bright-cheſnut colour; and, being [200] 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 in uſe for the purpoſe above-mentioned1.

I am, &c.
LETTER XXVII. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

WE had in this village more than twenty years ago an idiot boy, whom I well remember, who, from a child, ſhewed a ſtrong propenſity to bees; they were his food, his amuſement, his ſole object. And as people of this caſt have ſeldom more than one point in view, ſo this lad exerted all his few faculties on this one purſuit. In the winter he doſed away his time, within his father's houſe, by the fire ſide, in a kind of torpid ſtate, ſeldom departing from the chimney-corner; but in the ſummer he was all alert, and in queſt of his game in the fields, and on ſunny banks. Honey-bees, humble-bees, and waſps, were his prey wherever he found them: he had no apprehenſions from their ſtings, but would ſeize [201] ſeize them nudis manibus, and at once diſarm them of their weapons, and ſuck their bodies for the ſake of their honey-bags. Sometimes he would fill his boſom between his ſhirt and his ſkin with a number of theſe captives; and ſometimes would confine them in bottles. He was a very merops apiaſter, or bee-bird; and very injurious to men that kept bees; for he would ſlide into their bee-gardens, and, ſitting down before the ſtools, would rap with his finger on the hives, and ſo take the bees as they came out. He has been known to overturn hives for the ſake of honey, of which he was paſſionately fond. Where metheglin was making he would linger round the tubs and veſſels, begging a draught of what he called bee-wine. As 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, diſcovered no manner of underſtanding. Had his capacity been better, and directed to the ſame object, he had perhaps abated much of our wonder at the feats of a more modern exhibiter of bees: and we may juſtly ſay of him now,

" — Thou,
"Had thy preſiding ſtar propitious ſhone,
"Should'ſt 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.

I am, &c.
[200]
[...]
[201]
[...]
LETTER XXVIII. TO THE SAME.
[202]
DEAR SIR,

IT is the hardeſt thing in the world to ſhake off ſuperſtitious prejudices: they are ſucked in as it were with our mother's milk; and, growing up with us at a time when they take the faſteſt hold and make the moſt laſting impreſſions, become ſo interwoven into our very conſtitutions, that the ſtrongeſt good ſenſe is required to diſengage ourſelves from them. No wonder therefore that the lower people retain them their whole lives through, ſince their minds are not invigorated by a liberal education, and therefore not enabled to make any efforts adequate to the occaſion.

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

But the people of Tring, in Hertfordſhire, would do well to remember, that no longer ago than the year 1751, and within twenty miles of the capital, they ſeized on two ſuperannuated wretches, crazed with age, and overwhelmed with infirmities, on a ſuſpicion of witchcraft; and, by trying experiments, drowned them in a horſepond.

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 ſhew 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 [203] naked, were puſhed through the apertures, under a perſuaſion that, by ſuch a proceſs, the poor babes would be cured of their infirmity. As ſoon as the operation was over, the tree, in the ſuffering part, was plaſtered with loam, and carefully ſwathed up. If the parts coaleſced and ſoldered together, as uſually fell out, where the feat was performed with any adroitneſs at all, the party was cured; but, where the cleft continued to gape, the operation, it was ſuppoſed, would prove ineffectual. Having occaſion to enlarge my garden not long ſince, I cut down two or three ſuch trees, one of which did not grow together.

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

At the ſouth corner of the Pleſtor, or area, near the church, there ſtood, about twenty-years ago, a very old groteſque hollow pollard-aſh, which for ages had been looked on with no ſmall veneration as a ſhrew-aſh. Now a ſhrew-aſh is an aſh whoſe twigs or branches, when gently applied to the limbs of cattle, will immediately relieve the pains which a beaſt ſuffers from the running of a ſhrew-mouſe over the part affected: for it is ſuppoſed that a ſhrew-mouſe is of ſo baneful and deleterious a nature, that wherever it creeps over a beaſt, be it horſe, cow, or ſheep, the ſuffering animal is afflicted with cruel anguiſh, and threatened with the loſs of the uſe of the limb. Againſt this accident, to which they were continually liable, our provident fore-fathers always kept a ſhrew-aſh at hand, which, when once medicated, would maintain it's virtue for ever. A ſhrew-aſh was made thusm:—Into the body of the [204] tree a deep hole was bored with an auger, and a poor devoted ſhrew-mouſe was thruſt in alive, and plugged in, no doubt, with ſeveral quaint incantations long ſince forgotten. As the ceremonies neceſſary for ſuch a conſecration are no longer underſtood, all ſucceſſion is at an end, and no ſuch tree is known to ſubſiſt in the manor, or hundred.

As to that on the Pleſtor

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

when he was way-warden, regardleſs of the remonſtrances of the by-ſtanders, who interceded in vain for it's preſervation, urging it's power and efficacy, and alledging that it had been

"Religione patrum multos ſervata per annos."
I am, &c.
LETTER XXIX. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

IN heavy fogs, on elevated ſituations eſpecially, trees are perfect alembics; and no one that has not attended to ſuch matters can imagine how much water one tree will diſtil in a night's time, by condenſing the vapour, which trickles down the twigs and boughs, ſo as to make the ground below quite in a float. In Newton-lane, [205] in October 1775, on a miſty day, a particular oak in leaf dropped ſo faſt that the cart-way ſtood in puddles and the ruts ran with water, though the ground in general was duſty.

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

Trees in leaf have ſuch a vaſt proportion more of ſurface than thoſe that are naked, that, in theory, their condenſations ſhould greatly exceeed thoſe that are ſtripped of their leaves; but, as the former imbibe alſo a great quantity of moiſture, it is difficult to ſay which drip moſt: but this I know, that deciduous trees that are entwined with much ivy ſeem to diſtil the greateſt quantity. Ivyleaves are ſmooth, and thick, and cold, and therefore condenſe very faſt; and beſides ever-greens 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 perennial; and ſhew 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 [206] century ago, will not now drive a common milln. Beſides, moſt woodlands, foreſts, and chaſes, with us abound with pools and moraſſes; no doubt for the reaſon given above.

To a thinking mind few phenomena are more ſtrange than the ſtate of little ponds on the ſummits of chalk-hills, many of which are never dry in the moſt trying droughts of ſummer. On chalk-hills I ſay, becauſe in many rocky and gravelly ſoils ſprings uſually break out pretty high on the ſides of elevated grounds and mountains; but no perſon acquainted with chalky diſtricts will allow that they ever ſaw ſprings in ſuch a ſoil but in vallies 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 containing perhaps not more than two or three hundred hogſheads of water, yet never is known to fail, though it affords drink for three hundred or four hundred ſheep, and for at leaſt twenty head of large cattle beſide. This pond, it is true, is over-hung with two moderate beeches, that, doubtleſs, at times afford it much ſupply: but then we have others as ſmall, that, without the aid of trees, and in ſpite of evaporation from ſun and wind, and perpetual conſumption by cattle, yet conſtantly maintain a moderate ſhare of water, without overflowing in the wetteſt ſeaſons, as they would do if ſupplied by ſprings. By my journal of May, 1775, it appears that ‘"the ſmall and even conſiderable ponds 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, which certainly is more prevalent in bottoms? or rather have not thoſe [207] elevated pools ſome unnoticed recruits, which in the night time counterbalance the waſte of the day; without which the cattle alone muſt ſoon exhauſt them? And here it will be neceſſary to enter more minutely into the cauſe. Dr. Hales, in his Vegetable Statics, advances, from experiment, 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 it's coolneſs, is enabled to aſſimilate to itſelf a large quantity of moiſture nightly by condenſation; and that the air, when loaded with fogs and vapours, and even with copious dews, can alone advance a conſiderable and never-failing reſource. Perſons that are much abroad, and travel early and late; ſuch as ſhepherds, fiſhermen, &c. can tell what prodigious fogs prevail in the night on elevated downs, even in the hotteſt parts of ſummer; and how much the ſurfaces of things are drenched by thoſe ſwimming vapours, though, to the ſenſes, all the while, little moiſture ſeems to fall.

I am, &c.
LETTER XXX. TO THE SAME.
[208]
DEAR SIR,

MONSIEUR HERISSANT, a French anatomiſt, ſeems perſuaded that he has diſcovered the reaſon why cuckoos do not hatch their own eggs; the impediment, he ſuppoſes, ariſes from the internal ſtructure of their parts, which incapacitates them for incubation. According to this gentleman, the crop, or craw, of a cuckoo does not lie before the ſternum at the bottom of the neck, as in the gallinae, columbae, &c. but immediately behind it, on and over the bowels, ſo as to make a large protuberance in the bellyo.

Induced by this aſſertion, we procured a cuckoo; and, cutting open the breaſt-bone, and expoſing the inteſtines to ſight, found the crop lying as mentioned above. This ſtomach was large and round, and ſtuffed hard like a 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 catching on the wing as they were juſt emerging out of the aurelia ſtate. Among this farrago alſo were to be ſeen maggots, and many ſeeds, which belonged either to gooſeberries, currants, cranberries, or ſome ſuch fruit; ſo that theſe birds apparently [209] ſubſiſt on inſects and fruits: nor was there the leaſt appearance 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 remarkably ſhort, between which and the anus lay the crop, or craw, and immediately behind that the bowels againſt the back-bone.

It muſt be allowed, as this anatomiſt obſerves, that the crop 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 manner. 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 it's habit and ſhape, we ſuſpected might reſemble the cuckoo in it's internal conſtruction. Nor were our ſuſpicions ill-grounded; for, upon the diſſection, the crop, or craw, alſo lay behind the ſternum, immediately on the viſcera, between them and the ſkin of the belly. It was bulky, and ſtuffed hard with large phalaenae, moths of ſeveral ſorts, and their eggs, which no doubt had been forced out of thoſe inſects by the action of ſwallowing.

Now as it appears that this bird, which is ſo well known to practiſe incubation, is formed in a ſimilar manner with cuckoos, Monſieur Heriſſant's conjecture, that cuckoos are incapable of incubation from the diſpoſition of their 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 inſtance of the cuculus canorus.

[210] We found the caſe to be the ſame with the ring-tail hawk, in reſpect to formation; and, as far as I can recollect, with the ſwift; and probably it is ſo with many more ſorts of birds that are not granivorous.

I am, &c.
LETTER XXXI. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

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 earth-worms. This little fry iſſued into the world with the true viper-ſpirit about them, ſhewing great alertneſs as ſoon as diſengaged from the belly of the dam: they twiſted and wriggled about, and ſet themſelves up, and gaped very wide when touched with a ſtick, ſhewing 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.

[211] To a thinking mind nothing is more wonderful than that early inſtinct which impreſſes young animals with the notion of the ſituation of their natural weapons, and of uſing them properly in their own defence, even before thoſe weapons ſubſiſt or are formed. Thus a young cock will ſpar at his adverſary before his ſpurs are grown; and a calf or 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 ſciſſars.

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.

LETTER XXXII. TO THE SAME.
[212]

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 hips, and beardleſs chins, and ſqueaking voices. Gelt-ſtags and bucks have hornleſs heads, like hinds and does. Thus wethers have ſmall horns, like ewes; and oxen large bent horns, and hoarſe voices when they low, like cows: for bulls have ſhort ſtraight horns; and though they mutter and grumble in a deep tremendous tone, yet they low 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 chickens like hens. Barrow-hogs have alſo ſmall tuſks like ſows.

Thus far it is plain that the deprivation of maſculine vigour puts a ſtop to the growth of thoſe parts or appendages that are looked upon as it's inſignia. But the ingenious Mr. Liſle, in his book on huſbandry, 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 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 XXXIII. TO THE SAME.
[213]

THE natural term of an hog's life is little known, and the reaſon is plain—becauſe it is neither profitable nor convenient to keep that turbulent animal to the full extent of it's time: however, my neighbour, a man of ſubſtance, who had no occaſion to ſtudy every little advantage to a nicety, kept an 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 ſhewed ſome tokens of age by the decay of her teeth and the decline of her fertility.

For about ten years this prolific mother produced two litters in the year of about ten at a time, and once above twenty at a litter; but, as there were near double the number of pigs to that of teats, many died. From long experience in the world this female was grown very ſagacious and artful:—when ſhe found occaſion to converſe with a boar ſhe uſed to open all the intervening gates, and march, by herſelf, up to a diſtant farm where one was kept; and when her purpoſe was ſerved would return by the ſame means. At the age of about fifteen her litters began to be reduced to four or five; and ſuch a litter ſhe exhibited when in her ſatting-pen. She proved, when fat, good bacon, juicy, and tender; the rind, or ſward, was remarkably thin. At a moderate computation ſhe [214] 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.

I am, &c.
LETTER XXXIV. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,
" — admorunt ubera tigres."

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

My friend had a little helpleſs leveret brought to him, which the ſervants fed with milk in a ſpoon, and about the ſame time his cat kittened and the young were diſpatched and buried. The hare was ſoon loſt, and ſuppoſed to be gone the way of moſt fondlings, to be killed by ſome dog or cat. However, in about a fortnight, as the maſter was ſitting in his garden in the duſk of the evening, he obſerved his cat, with tail erect, trotting towards him, and calling with little ſhort inward notes of complacency, [215] ſuch as they uſe towards their kittens, and ſomething gamboling after, which proved to be the leveret that the cat had ſupported with her milk, and continued to ſupport with great 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 leo, as Linnaeus calls it, ſhould be affected with any tenderneſs towards an animal which is it's 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 derived 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 foundling 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 poets aſſert, of expoſed children being ſometimes nurtured by female wild beaſts that probably had loſt their young. For it is not one whit more marvellous that Romulus and Remus, in their infant ſtate, ſhould be nurſed by a ſhe-wolf, than that a poor little ſucking leveret ſhould be foſtered and cheriſhed by a bloody grimalkin.

— "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 linguâ."
LETTER XXXV. TO THE SAME.
[216]
DEAR SIR,

LANDS that are ſubject to frequent inundations are always poor; and probably the reaſon may be becauſe the worms are drowned. The moſt inſignificant inſects and reptiles are of much more conſequence, and have much more influence in the oeconomy 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 ſay nothing of half the birds, and ſome quadrupeds which are almoſt entirely ſupported by them, worms ſeem to be the great promoters of vegetation, which would proceed but lamely without them, by boring, perforating, and looſening the ſoil, and rendering it pervious to rains 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, probably to avoid being flooded. Gardeners and farmers expreſs their deteſtation of worms; the former becauſe they render their walks unſightly, and make them much work: and the latter becauſe, as they think, worms eat their [217] green corn. But theſe men would find that the earth without worms would ſoon become cold, hard-bound, and void of fermentation; and conſequently ſteril: 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 tipulae (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 gardenq.

Theſe hints we think proper to throw out in order to ſet the inquiſitive and diſcerning to work.

A good monography of worms would afford much 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; are out every mild night in the winter, as any perſon may be convinced that will take the pains to examine his graſs-plots with a candle; are hermaphrodites, and much addicted to venery, and conſequently very prolific.

I am, &c.
LETTER XXXVI. TO THE SAME.
[218]
DEAR SIR,

YOU cannot but remember that the twenty-ſixth and twenty-ſeventh of laſt March were very hot days; ſo fultry that every body complained and were reſtleſs under thoſe ſenſations to which they had not been reconciled by gradual approaches.

This ſudden ſummer-like heat was attended by many 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 it's dormitory; and, what is moſt to my preſent purpoſe, many houſe-ſwallows appeared and were very alert in many places, and particularly at Cobham, in Surrey.

But as that ſhort warm period was ſucceeded as well as preceded by harſh ſevere weather, with frequent froſts and ice, and cutting winds, the inſects withdrew, the tortoiſe retired again into the ground, and the ſwallows were ſeen no more until the tenth 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 not very obſervant of ſuch matters would conclude that they [219] had taken their laſt farewell: but then it may be ſeen in my diaries alſo that conſiderable flocks have diſcovered themſelves again in the firſt week of November, and often on the fourth day of that 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 enterprize of moment at all agitated their ſpirits. And this was the caſe in the beginning of this very month; for, on the fourth of November, more than twenty houſe-martins, which, in appearance, had all departed about the ſeventh 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 bluſtering, but the fourth was dark and mild, and ſoft, the wind at ſouth-weſt, and the thermometer at 58½; a pitch not common at that ſeaſon of the year. Moreover, it may no the amiſs to add in this place, that whenever the thermometer is above 50 the bat comes flitting out in every autumnal and winter-month.

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

I am, &c.
LETTER XXXVII. TO THE SAME.
[220]
DEAR SIR,

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 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 tender that neither his hands or feet were able to perform 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 inactivity. His habit was lean, lank, and cadaverous. In this ſad plight he dragged on a miſerable exiſtence, a burden to himſelf and his pariſh, which was obliged to ſupport him till he was relieved by death at more than thirty years of age.

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

In all ages the leproſy has made dreadful havock among mankind. The Iſraelites ſeem to have been greatly afflicted with it [221] from the moſt remote times; as appears from the peculiar and repeated injunctions given them in the Levitical lawr. Nor was the rancour of this foul diſorder much abated in the laſt period of their commonwealth, as may be ſeen in many paſſages of the New Teſtament.

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

It muſt therefore, in theſe days, be, to an humane and thinking perſon, a matter of equal wonder and ſatisfaction, when he contemplates how nearly this peſt is eradicated, and obſerves that a leper now is a rare ſight. He will, moreover, when engaged in ſuch a train of thought, naturally inquire for the reaſon. This happy change perhaps may have originated and been continued from the much ſmaller quantity of ſalted meat and fiſh now eaten in theſe kingdoms; from the uſe of linen next the ſkin; from the plenty of better bread; and from the profuſion of fruits, roots, legumes, and greens, ſo common in every family. Three or four centuries ago, before there were any encloſures, ſown-graſſes, field-turnips, or field-carrots, or hay, all the cattle which had grown fat in ſummer, and were not killed for winter-uſe, were turned out ſoon after Michaelmas to ſhift as they could through the [222] 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 s in the days of Edward the Second, even ſo late in the ſpring as the third of May. It was from magazines like theſe that the turbulent barons ſupported in idleneſs their riotous ſwarms of retainers ready for any diſorder or miſchief. But agriculture is now arrived at ſuch a pitch of perfection, that our beſt and fatteſt meats are killed in the winter; and no man need eat ſalted fleſh, unleſs he prefers it, that has money to buy freſh.

One cauſe of this diſtemper might be, no doubt, the quantity of wretched freſh and ſalt fiſh conſumed by the commonalty at all ſeaſons as well as in lent; which our poor now would hardly be perſuaded to touch.

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

The plenty of good wheaten bread that now is found among all ranks of people in the ſouth, inſtead of that 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 cutaneous diſorders, from a wretchedneſs and 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 [223] and country, how vaſtly the conſumption of vegetables is increaſed. Green-ſtalls in cities now ſupport multitudes in a comfortable ſtate, while gardeners get fortunes. Every decent labourer alſo has his garden, which is half his ſupport, as well as his delight; and common farmers provide plenty of beans, peas, and greens, for their hinds to eat with their bacon; and thoſe few that do not are deſpiſed for their ſordid parſimony, and looked upon as regardleſs of the welfare of their dependants. Potatoes have prevailed in this little diſtrict, by means of premiums, within theſe twenty years only; and are much eſteemed here now by the poor, who would ſcarce have ventured to taſte them in the laſt reign.

Our Saxon anceſtors certainly had ſome ſort of cabbage, becauſe they call the month of February ſprout-cale; but, long after their days, the cultivation of gardens was little attended to. The religious, being men of leiſure, and keeping up a conſtant correſpondence with Italy, were the firſt people among us that had gardens and fruit-trees in any perfection, within the walls of their abbiest and priories. The barons neglected every purſuit that did not lead to war or tend to the pleaſure of the chaſe.

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

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

I am, &c.
LETTER XXXVIII. TO THE SAME.
"Fortè puer, comitum ſeductus ab agmine fido,
"Dixerat, ecquis adeſt? et, adeſt, reſponderat echo,
"Hic ſtupet; utque aciem partes diviſit in omnes;
"Voce, veni, clamat magnâ. Vocat illa vocantem."
DEAR SIR,

IN a diſtrict ſo diverſified as this, ſo full of hollow vales and hanging woods, it is no wonder that echoes ſhould abound. Many we 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 of birds, very agreeably: but we were ſtill at a loſs for a polyſyllabical, [225] articulate echo, till a young gentleman, who had parted from his company in a ſummer evening walk, and was calling after them, ſtumbled upon a very curious one in a ſpot where it might leaſt be expected. At firſt he was much ſurpriſed, and could not be perſuaded but that he was mocked by ſome boy; but, repeating his trials in ſeveral languages, and finding his reſpondent to be a very adroit polyglot, he then diſcerned the deception.

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

"Tityre, tu patulae recubans —"

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

Quick dactyls, we obſerved, ſucceeded beſt; for when we came to try it's powers in ſlow, heavy, embaraſſed ſpondees of the ſame number of ſyllables,

"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, reecho much more articulately than hanging wood or vales; becauſe in the latter the voice is as it were entangled, and embaraſſed in the covert, and weakened in the rebound.

[226] The true object of this echo, as we found by various experiments, is the ſtone-built, tiled hop-kiln in Gally-lane, which meaſures in front 40 feet, and from the ground to the eaves 12 feet. The true centrum phonicum, or juſt diſtance, is one particular ſpot in the King's-field, in the path to 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 meer 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.

We meaſured this polyſyllabical echo with great exactneſs, and found the diſtance to fall very ſhort 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; whereas our diſtance is only 258 yards, or near 75 feet, to each ſyllable. Thus our meaſure falls ſhort of the Doctor's, as five to eight: but then it muſt be acknowledged that this candid philoſopher was convinced afterwards, that ſome 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 it's ſpringineſs; and a ruffling wind quite defeats the whole. In a ſtill, clear, dewy evening the air is moſt elaſtic; and perhaps the later the hour the more ſo.

[227] 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 phaenomenon, 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 prudent owners would wiſh far removed from their bee-gardens, he adds

" — aut ubi concava pulſu
"Saxa ſonant, vociſque offenſa reſultat imago."

This wild and fanciful aſſertion will hardly be admitted by the philoſophers of theſe days; eſpecially as they all now ſeem agreed that inſects are not furniſhed with any organs of hearing at all. But if it ſhould be urged, that though they cannot hear yet perhaps they may feel the repercuſſions of ſounds, I grant it is poſſible they may. Yet that theſe impreſſions are diſtaſteful or hurtful, I deny, becauſe bees, in good ſummers, thrive well in my outlet, where the echoes are very ſtrong: for this village is another Anathoth, a 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 haled a ſhip at the diſtance of a mile, and ſtill theſe inſects purſued their various employments undiſturbed, and without ſhewing the leaſt ſenſibility or reſentment.

[228] Some time ſince it's diſcovery this echo is become totally ſilent, though the object, or hop-kiln, remains: nor is there any myſtery in this defect; for the field between is planted as an 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, nurtered up for the purpoſe of ſhelter to the hop ground, entirely interrupts the impulſe and repercuſſion of the voice: ſo that till thoſe obſtructions are removed no more of it's 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, dogkennel, or the like ſtructure, it would be only needful to erect this building on the gentle declivity of an hill, with a like riſing oppoſite to it, at a few hundred yards diſtance; and perhaps ſucceſs might be the eaſier enſured could ſome canal, lake, or ſtream, intervene. From a ſeat at the centrum phonicum 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 —

" — quae nec reticere loquenti,
"Nec prior ipſa loqui didicit reſonabilis echo."
I am, &c.
[229]

P.S. The claſſic reader will, I truſt, pardon the following lovely quotation, ſo finely deſcribing echoes, and ſo poetically accounting for their cauſes from popular ſuperſtition:

"Quae benè quom videas, rationem reddere poſſis
"Tute tibi atque aliis, quo pacto per loca ſola
"Saxa pareis formas verborum ex ordine reddant,
"Palanteis comites quom monteis inter opacos
"Quaerimus, et magnâ diſperſos voce ciemus.
"Sex etiam, aut ſeptem loca vidi reddere voces
"Unam quom jaceres: ita colles collibus ipſis
"Verba repulſantes iterabant dicta referre.
"Haec loca capripedes Satyros, Nymphaſque tenere
"Finitimi fingunt, et Faunos eſſe loquuntur;
"Quorum noctivago ſtrepitu, ludoque jocanti
"Adfirmant volgo taciturna ſilentia rumpi,
"Chordarumque ſonos fieri, dulceiſque querelas,
"Tibia quas fundit digitis pulſata canentum:
"Et genus agricolûm latè ſentiſcere, quom Pan
"Pinea ſemiferi capitis velamina quaſſans,
"Unco ſaepe labro calamos percurrit hianteis,
"Fiſtula ſilveſtrem ne ceſſet fundere muſam."
Lucretius, Lib. iv. l. 576.
LETTER XXXIX. TO THE SAME.
[230]
DEAR SIR,

AMONG the many ſingularities attending thoſe amuſing birds the ſwifts, I am now confirmed in the opinion that we have every year the ſame number of pairs invariably; at leaſt the reſult of my inquiry has been exactly the ſame for a long time paſt. The ſwallows and martins are ſo numerous, and ſo widely diſtributed over the village, that it is hardly poſſible to recount them; while the ſwifts, though they do not all build in the church, yet ſo frequently haunt it, and play and rendezvous round it, that they are eaſily enumerated. The number that I conſtantly find are eight pairs; about half of which reſide in the church, and the reſt 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 annually of this increaſe; and what determines every ſpring which pairs ſhall viſit us, and reoccupy their ancient haunts?

Ever ſince I have attended to the ſubject of ornithology, I have always ſuppoſed that that ſudden reverſe of affection, that ſtrange [...], which immediately ſucceeds in the feathered 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 favourite diſtrict would be crowded with inhabitants, while others [231] would be deſtitute and forſaken. But the parent birds ſeem to maintain a jealous ſuperiority, and to oblige the young to ſeek for new abodes: and the rivalry of the males, in many kinds, prevents their crowding the one on the other. 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.

LETTER XL. TO THE SAME.
DEAR SIR,

THE ſtanding objection to botany has always been, that it is a purſuit that amuſes the fancy and exerciſes the memory, without improving the mind or advancing any real knowledge: and, where the ſcience is carried no farther than a mere ſyſtematic claſſification, the charge is but too true. But the botaniſt that is deſirous of wiping off this aſperſion ſhould be by no means content with a liſt of names; he ſhould ſtudy plants philoſophically, ſhould inveſtigate the laws of vegetation, ſhould examine the powers and virtues of efficacious herbs, ſhould promote their [232] cultivation; and graft the gardener, the planter, and the huſbandman, on the phytologiſt. Not that ſyſtem is by any means to be thrown aſide; without ſyſtem the field of Nature would be a pathleſs wilderneſs; but ſyſtem ſhould be ſubſervient to, not the main object of, purſuit.

Vegetation is highly worthy of our attention; and in itſelf is of the utmoſt conſequence to mankind, and productive of many of the greateſt comforts and elegancies of life. To plants we owe timber, bread, beer, honey, wine, oil, linen, cotton, &c. what not only ſtrengthens our hearts, and exhilerates our ſpirits, but what ſecures us from inclemencies of weather and adorns our perſons. Man, in his true ſtate of nature, ſeems to be ſubſiſted by ſpontaneous vegetation: in middle climes, where graſſes prevail, he mixes ſome animal food with the produce of the field and garden: and it is towards the polar extremes only that, like his kindred bears and wolves, he gorges himſelf with fleſh alone, and is driven, to what hunger has never been known to compel the very beaſts, to prey on his own ſpecies.u

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

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

But of all ſorts of vegetation the graſſes ſeem to be moſt neglected; neither the farmer nor the grazier ſeem to diſtinguiſh the annual from the perennial, the hardy from the tender, nor the ſucculent and nutritive from the dry and juiceleſs.

The ſtudy of graſſes would be of great conſequence to a northerly, and grazing kingdom. The botaniſt that could improve the ſwerd of the diſtrict where he lived would be an 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 one alone was ſeen before."’

I am, &c.
LETTER XLI. TO THE SAME.
[234]
DEAR SIR,

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 wanting, it muſt be in the large aquatic plants, which are not to be expected on a ſpot far removed from rivers, and lying up amidſt the hill country at the ſpring heads. To enumerate all the plants that have been diſcovered within our limits would be a needleſs work; but a ſhort liſt of the more rare, and the ſpots where they are to be found, may be neither unacceptable nor unentertaining:—

  • Helleborus foetidus, ſtinking hellebore, bear's foot, or ſetterworth, all over the High-wood and Coney-croft-hanger: this continues a great branching plant the winter through, bloſſoming about January, and is very ornamental in ſhady walks and ſhrubberies. The good women give the leaves powdered to children troubled with worms; but it is a violent remedy, and ought to be adminiſtered with caution.
  • [235] Helleborus viridis, green hellebore,—in the deep ſtony lane on the left hand juſt before the turning to Norton-farm, and at the top of Middle Dorton under the 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.
  • Vaccinium oxycoccos, creeping bilberries, or cranberries,—in the bogs of Bin's-pond;
  • Vaccinium myrtillus, whortle, or bleaberries,—on the dry hillocks of Woolmer-foreſt;
  • Droſera rotundifolia, round-leaved ſundew. In the bogs of Bin's-pond.
  • — longifolia, long-leaved ditto. In the bogs of Bin's-pond.
  • Comarum paluſtre, purple comarum, or marſh cinque foil,—in the bogs of Bin's-pond;
  • Hypericum androſaemum, Tutſan, St. John's Wort,—in the ſtony, hollow lanes;
  • Vinca minor, leſs periwinkle,—in Selborne-hanger and Shrub-wood;
  • Monotropa hypopithys, yellow monotropa, or birds' neſt,—in Selborne-hanger under the ſhady beeches, to whoſe roots it ſeems to be paraſitical—at the north-weſt end of the Hanger;
  • Chlora perfoliata, Blackſtonia perfoliata, Hudſoni, perfoliated yellowwort,—on the banks in the King's-field;
  • Paris quadrifolia, herb Paris, true-love, or one-berry,—in the Church-litten-coppice;
  • Chryſoſplenium oppoſitifolium, oppoſite golden ſaxifrage,—in the dark and rocky hollow lanes;
  • Gentiana amarella, autumnal gentian, or fellwort,—on the Zigzag and Hanger;
  • [236] Lathraea ſquammaria, tooth-wort,—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;
  • Dipſacus piloſus, ſmall teaſel,—in the Short and Long Lith.
  • Lathyrus ſylveſtris, narrow-leaved, or wild lathyrus,—in the buſhes at the foot of the Short Lith, near the path;
  • Ophrys ſpiralis, ladies traces,—in the Long Lith, and towards the ſouth-corner of the common;
  • Ophrys nidus avis, birds' neſt ophrys,—in the Long Lith under the ſhady beeches among the dead leaves; in Great Dorton among the buſhes, and on the Hanger plentifully;
  • Serapias latifolia, helleborine,—in the High-wood under the ſhady beeches;
  • Daphne laureola, ſpurge laurel,—in Selborne-Hanger and the High-wood;
  • Daphne mezereum, the mezereon,—in Selborne-Hanger among the ſhrubs at the ſouth-eaſt end above the cottages.
  • Lycoperdon tuber, truffles,—in the Hanger and High-wood.
  • Sambucus ebulus, dwarf elder, walwort, or danewort,—among the rubbiſh and ruined foundations of the Priory.
LETTER XLII. TO THE SAME.
[237]

"Omnibus animalibus reliquis certus et uniuſmodi, et in ſuo cuique genere inceſſus: eſt aves ſolae vario meatu feruntur, et in terrâ, et in äere."

PLIN. Hiſt. Nat. lib. x. cap. 38.
DEAR SIR,

A GOOD ornithologiſt ſhould be able to diſtinguiſh birds by their air as well as by their colours and ſhape; on the ground as well as on the wing, and in the buſh as well as in the hand. For, though it muſt not be ſaid that every ſpecies of birds has a manner peculiar to itſelf, yet there is ſomewhat in moſt genera at leaſt, that at firſt ſight diſcriminates them, and enables a judicious obſerver to pronounce upon them with ſome certainty. Put a bird in motion

" — Et verâ 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 gleads, 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 agitated. Hen-harriers ſly 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 [238] their leiſure time in ſtriking and cuffing each other on the wing in a kind of playful ſkirmiſh; and, when they move from one place to another, frequently turn on their backs with a loud croak, and ſeem to be falling to the ground. When this odd geſture betides them, they are ſcratching themſelves with one foot, and thus loſe the center of gravity. Rooks ſometimes dive and tumble in a frolickſome manner; crows and daws ſwagger in their walk; wood-peckers ſly volatu undoſo, 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 downward, as a ſupport while they run up trees. Parrots, like all other hooked-clawed birds, walk aukwardly, and make uſe of their bill as a third foot, climbing and deſcending with ridiculous caution. All the gallinae parade and walk gracefully, and run nimbly; but fly with difficulty, with an impetuous whirring, and in a ſtraight line. Magpies and jays flutter with powerleſs wings, and make no diſpatch; herons ſeem incumbered with too much ſail for their light bodies; but theſe vaſt hollow wings are neceſſary in carrying burdens, ſuch as large fiſhes, and the like; pigeons, and particularly the ſort called ſmiters, have a way of claſhing their wings the one againſt the other over their backs with a loud ſnap; another variety called tumblers turn themſelves over in the air. Some birds have movements peculiar to the ſeaſon of love: thus ring-doves, though ſtrong and rapid at other times, yet in the ſpring hang about on the wing in a toying and playful manner; thus the cock-ſnipe, while breeding, forgetting his former flight, fans the air like the wind-hover; and the green-finch in particular exhibits ſuch languiſhing and faultering 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 [239] as it were ſwim along, while miſſel-thruſhes uſe a wild and deſultory flight; ſwallows ſweep over the ſurface of the ground and water, and diſtinguiſh themſelves by rapid turns and quick evolutions; ſwifts daſh round in circles; and the bank-martin moves with frequent vacillations like a butterfly. Moſt of the ſmall birds fly by jerks, riſing and falling as they advance. Moſt ſmall birds hop; but wagtails and larks walk, moving their legs alternately. 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 geſticulations over the tops of hedges and buſhes. All the duck-kind waddle; divers and auks walk as if fettered, and ſtand erect on their tails: theſe are the compedes of Linnaeus. Geeſe and cranes, and moſt wild-fowls, move in figured flights, often changing their poſition. The ſecondary remiges of Tringae, wild-ducks, and ſome others, are very long, and give their wings, when in motion, an hooked appearance. Dabchicks, moor-hens, and coots, fly erect, with their legs hanging down, and hardly make any diſpatch; the reaſon is plain, their wings are placed too forward out of the true center of gravity; as the legs of auks and divers are ſituated too backward.

LETTER XLIII. TO THE SAME.
[240]
DEAR SIR,

FROM the motion of birds, the tranſition is natural enough to their notes and language, of which I ſhall ſay ſomething. Not that I would pretend to underſtand their language like the vizier; who, by the recital of a converſation which paſſed between two owls, reclaimed a ſultan,x before delighting in conqueſt and devaſtation; but I would be thought only to mean that many of the winded 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 ancient, and, like other ancient modes of ſpeech, very elliptical; little is ſaid, but much is meant and underſtood.

The notes of the eagle-kind are ſhrill and piercing; and about the ſeaſon of nidification much diverſified, as I have been often aſſured by a curious obſerver of Nature, who long reſided at Gibraltar, where eagles abound. The notes of our hawks much reſemble thoſe of the king of birds. Owls have very expreſſive notes; they hoot in a fine vocal ſound, much reſembling the vox [241] Lumana, 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 an horrible ſcream; and can ſnore and hiſs when they mean to menace. Ravens, beſides their loud croak, can exert a deep and ſolemn note that makes the woods to echo; the amorous ſound of a crow is ſtrange and ridiculous; rooks, in the breeding ſeaſon, attempt ſometimes in the gaiety of their hearts to ſing, but with no great ſucceſs; the parrot-kind have many modulations of voice, as appears by their aptitude to learn human ſounds; doves coo in an amorous and mournful manner, and are emblems of deſpairing lovers; the woodpecker ſets up a ſort of loud and hearty laugh; the fern-owl, or goat-ſucker, from the duſk till day-break, ſerenades his mate with the clattering of caſtanets. All the tuneful paſſeres expreſs their 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 attention of the other hirundines, and bids them be aware that the hawk is at hand. Aquatic and gregarious birds, eſpecially the nocturnal, that ſhift their quarters in the dark, are very noiſy and loquacious; as cranes, wild-geeſe, wild-ducks, and the like: their perpetual clamour prevents them from diſperſing and loſing their companions.

In ſo extenſive a ſubject, ſketches and outlines are as much as can be expected; for it would be endleſs to inſtance in all the infinite variety of the feathered nation. We ſhall therefore confine the remainder of this letter to the few domeſtic fowls of our yards, which are moſt known, and therefore beſt underſtood. And firſt the peacock, with his gorgeous train, demands our attention; but, like moſt of the gaudy birds, his notes are grating and ſhocking to the car: the yelling of cats, and the braying of an aſs, are not [242] more diſguſtful. The voice of the gooſe is trumpet-like, and clanking; and once ſaved the Capitol at Rome, as grave hiſtorians aſſert: the hiſs alſo of the gander is formidable and full of menace, and ‘"protective of his young."’ Among ducks the ſexual diſtinction of voice is remarkable; for, while the quack of the female is loud and ſonorous, the voice of the drake is inward and harſh, and feeble, and ſcarce diſcernible. The cock turkey ſtruts and gobbles to his miſtreſs in a moſt uncouth manner; he hath alſo a pert and petulant note when he attacks his adverſary. When a hen turkey leads forth her young brood ſhe keeps a watchful eye; and if a bird of prey appear, though ever ſo high in the air, the careful mother announces the enemy with a little inward moan, and watches him with a ſteady and attentive look; but, if he approach, her note becomes earneſt and alarming, and her outcries are redoubled.

No inhabitants of a yard ſeem poſſeſſed of ſuch a variety of expreſſion and ſo copious a language as common poultry. Take a chicken of four or five days old, and hold it up to a window where there are flies, and it will immediately ſeize it's prey, with little twitterings of complacency; but if you tender it a waſp or a bee, at once it's note becomes harſh, and expreſſive of diſapprobation and a ſenſe of danger. When a pullet is ready to lay ſhe intimates the event by a joyous and eaſy ſoft note. Of all the occurrences of their life that of 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 [243] her new relation demands a new language; ſhe then runs clocking and ſcreaming about, and ſeems agitated as if poſſeſſed. The father of the flock has alſo a conſiderable vocabulary; if he finds food, he calls a favourite concubine to partake; and if a bird of prey paſſes over, with a warning voice he bids his family beware. The gallant chanticleer has, at command, his amorous phraſes and his terms of defiance. But the ſound by which he is beſt known is his crowing: by this he has been diſtinguiſhed in all ages as the countryman's clock or larum, as the watchman that proclaims the diviſions of the night. Thus the poet elegantly ſtyles him:

" — the creſted cock, whoſe clarion ſounds
"The ſilent hours."

A neighbouring gentleman one ſummer had loſt moſt of his chickens by a ſparrow-hawk, that came gliding down between a faggot pile and the end of his houſe to the place where the coops ſtood. The owner, inwardly vexed to ſee his flock thus diminiſhing, hung a ſetting net adroitly between the pile and the houſe, into which the caitif daſhed, and was entangled. Reſentment ſuggeſted the law of retaliation; 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 buffering their adverſary till they had torn him in an hundred pieces.

LETTER XLIV. TO THE SAME.
[244]
" — monſtrent"
" —"
"Quid tantùm Oceano properent ſe tingere ſoles"
"Hyberni; vel quae tardis mora noctibus obſtet."

GENTLEMEN who have outlets might contrive to make ornament ſubſervient to utility: a pleaſing eye-trap might alſo contribute to promote ſcience: an obeliſk in a garden or park might be both an embelliſhment and an heliotrope.

Any perſon that is curious, and enjoys the advantage 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 erections might be conſtructed with very little expenſe; for two pieces of timber frame-work, about ten or twelve feet high, and four feet broad at the baſe, and cloſe lined with plank, would anſwer the purpoſe.

The erection for the former ſhould, if poſſible, be placed within ſight of ſome window in the common ſitting parlour; becauſe men, at that dead ſeaſon of the year, are uſually within doors at the cloſe of the day; while that 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 evening, the utmoſt extent that the ſun makes to the northward at the ſeaſon of the longeſt [245] days. Now nothing would be neceſſary but to place theſe two objects with ſo much exactneſs, that the weſterly limb of the ſun, at ſetting, might but juſt clear the winter heliotrope to the weſt of it on the ſhorteſt day; and that the whole diſc of the ſun, at the longeſt day, might exactly at ſetting alſo clear the ſummer heliotrope to the north of it.

By this ſimple expedient it would ſoon appear that there is no ſuch thing, ſtrictly ſpeaking, as a ſolſtice; for, from the ſhorteſt day, the owner would, every clear evening, ſee the diſc advancing, at it's ſetting, to the weſtward of the object; and, from the longeſt day, obſerve the ſun retiring backwards every evening at it's ſeting, towards the object weſtward, till, in a few nights, it would ſet quite behind it, and ſo by degrees to the weſt of it: for when the ſun comes near the ſummer ſolſtice, the whole diſc of it would at firſt ſet behind the object; after a time the northern limb would firſt appear, and ſo every night gradually more, till at length the whole diameter would ſet northward of it for about three nights; but on the middle night of the three, ſenſibly more remote than the former or following. When beginning it's receſs from the ſummer tropic, it would continue more and more to be hidden every night, till at length it would deſcend quite behind the object again; and ſo nightly more and more to the weſtward.

LETTER XLV. TO THE SAME.
[246]
" — Mugire videbis
"Sub pedibus terram, et deſcendere montibus ornos."

WHEN I was a boy I uſed to read, with aſtoniſhment and implicit aſſent, accounts in Baker's Chronicle of walking hills and travelling mountains. John Philips, in his Cyder, alludes to the credit that was given to ſuch ſtories with a delicate but quaint vein of humour peculiar to the author of the Splendid Shilling.

"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!"

But, when I came to conſider better, I began to ſuſpect that though our hills may never have journeyed far, yet that the ends of many of them have ſlipped and fallen away at diſtant periods, leaving the cliffs bare and abrupt. This ſeems to have been the caſe with Nore and Whetham Hills; and eſpecially with the ridge between Harteley Park and Word-le-ham, where the ground has ſlid into vaſt ſwellings and furrows; and lies ſtill in ſuch romantic [247] 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 circumſtances were ſingular, may fairly claim a place in a work of this nature.

The months of January and February, in the year 1774, were remarkable for great melting ſnows and vaſt gluts of 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 it's place, and fell down, leaving a high free-ſtone cliff naked and bare, and reſembling the ſteep ſide of a chalk-pit. It appears that this huge fragment, being perhaps ſapped and undermined by waters, foundered, and was ingulfed, going down in a perpendicular direction; for a gate which ſtood in the field, on the top of the hill, after ſinking with it's 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 it's firſt ſituation. Several oaks alſo are ſtill ſtanding, and in a ſtate of vegetation, after taking the ſame deſperate leap. That great part of this prodigious maſs was abſorbed in ſome gulf below, is plain alſo from the inclining ground at the bottom of the hill, which is free and unincumbered; but would have been buried in heaps of rubbiſh, had the fragment parted and fallen forward. About an 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 [246] [...] [247] [...] [248] his family; and, juſt by, a ſtout new barn. The cottage was inhabited by an old woman and her ſon, and his wife. Theſe people in the evening, which was very dark and tempeſtuous, obſerved that the brick floors of their kitchens began to heave and part; and that the walls ſeemed to open, and the roofs to crack: but they all agree that no tremor of the ground, indicating an earthquake, was ever felt; only that the wind continued to make a moſt tremendous roaring in the woods and hangers. The miſerable inhabitants, not daring to go to bed, remained in the utmoſt ſolicitude and confuſion, expecting every moment to be buried under the ruins of their ſhattered edifices. When day-light came they were at leiſure to contemplate 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 it's 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 direction, as well towards the great woody hanger, as from it. In the firſt paſture the deep clefts began; and running acroſs the lane, and under the buildings, made ſuch vaſt ſhelves that the road was impaſſable for ſome time; and ſo over to an arable field on the other ſide, which was ſtrangely torn and diſordered. The ſecond paſture field, being more ſoft and ſpringy, was protruded forward without many fiſſures in the turf, which [249] was raiſed in long ridges reſembling graves, lying at right angles to the motion. At the bottom of this encloſure the ſoil and turf roſe many feet againſt the bodies of ſome oaks that obſtructed their farther courſe and terminated this awful commotion.

The perpendicular height of the precipice, in general, is twenty-three yards; the length of the lapſe, or ſlip, as ſeen from the fields below, one hundred and eighty-one; and a partial fall, concealed in the coppice, extends ſeventy yards more: ſo that the total length of this fragment that fell was two hundred and fifty-one yards. About fifty acres of land ſuffered from this violent convulſion; two houſes were entirely deſtroyed; one end of a new barn was left in ruins, the walls being cracked through the very ſtones that 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 or ſafe for paſturage, till conſiderable labour and expenſe had been beſtowed in levelling the ſurface and filling in the gaping fiſſures.

LETTER XLVI. TO THE SAME.
[250]
" — reſonant arbuſta —"

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 Lirhe, conſiſting of a rocky dry ſoil, and inclining to the afternoon ſun. This ſpot abounds with the gryllus campeſtris, or field-cricket; which, though frequent in theſe parts, is by no means a common inſect in many other counties.

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

At firſt we attempted to dig them out with a ſpade, but without any great ſucceſs; for either we could not get to the bottom of the hole, which often terminated under a great ſtone; or elſe, in breaking up the ground, we inadvertently ſqueezed the poor inſect to death. Out of one ſo bruiſed we took a multitude of eggs, [251] which were long and narrow, of a yellow colour, and covered with a very tough ſkin. By this accident we learned to diſtinguiſh the male from the female; the former of which is ſhining black, with a golden ſtripe acroſs his ſhoulders; the latter is more duſky, more capacious about the abdomen, and carries a long ſword-ſhaped weapon at her tail, which probably is the inſtrument with which ſhe depoſits her eggs in crannies and ſafe receptacles.

Where violent methods will not avail, more gentle means will often ſucceed; and ſo it proved in the preſent caſe; for, though a ſpade be too boiſterous and rough an implement, a pliant ſtalk of graſs, gently inſinuated into the caverns, will probe their windings to the bottom, and quickly bring out the inhabitant; and thus the humane inquirer may gratify his curioſity without injuring the object of it. It is remarkable that, though theſe inſects are furniſhed with long legs behind, and brawny thighs for leaping, like graſshoppers; yet when driven from their holes they ſhew no activity, but crawl along in a ſhiftleſs manner, ſo as eaſily to be taken: and again, though provided with a curious apparatus of wings, yet they never exert them when there ſeems to be the greateſt occaſion. The males only make that ſhrilling noiſe perhaps out of rivalry and emulation, as is the caſe with many animals which exert ſome ſprightly note during their breeding time: it is raiſed by a briſk friction of one wing againſt the other. They are ſolitary beings, living ſingly male or female, each as it may happen; but there muſt be a time when the ſexes have ſome intercourſe, and then the wings may be uſeful perhaps during the hours of night. When the males meet they will ſight ſiercely, 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, [252] yet the firſt that got poſſeſſion of the chinks would ſeize on any that were obtruded upon them with a vaſt row of ſerrated fangs. With their ſtrong jaws, toothed like the ſhears of a lobſter's claws, they perforate and round their curious regular cells, having no fore-claws to dig, like the mole-cricket. When taken in hand I could not but wonder that they never offered to defend themſelves, though armed with ſuch formidable weapons. Of ſuch herbs as grow before the mouths of their burrows they eat indiſcriminately; and on a little platform, which they make juſt by, they drop their dung; and never, in the day time, ſeem to ſtir more than two or three inches from home. Sitting in the entrance of their caverns they chirp all night as well as day from the middle 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 conſiderable diſtance. In the beginning of the ſeaſon their notes are more faint and inward; but become louder as the ſummer advances, and ſo die away again by degrees.

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

About the tenth of March the crickets appear at the mouths of their cells, which they then open and bore, and ſhape very elegantly. All that ever I have ſeen at that ſeaſon were in their pupa ſtate, and had only the rudiments of wings, lying under a ſkin or [253] coat, which muſt be caſt before the inſect can arrive at it's perfect ſtatey; from whence I ſhould ſuppoſe that the old ones of laſt year do not always ſurvive the winter. In Auguſt their holes begin to be obliterated, and the inſects are ſeen no more till ſpring.

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

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

LETTER XLVII. TO THE SAME.
[254]
DEAR SIR,
"Far from all reſort of mirth
"Save the cricket on the hearth."
MILTON's Il Penſeroſo.

WHILE many other inſects muſt be ſought after in fields and woods, and waters, the gryllus domeſticus, or houſe-cricket, reſides altogether within our dwellings, intruding itſelf upon our notice whether we will or no. This ſpecies delights in new-built houſes, being, like the ſpider, pleaſed with the moiſture of the walls; and beſides, the ſoftneſs of the mortar enables them to burrow and mine between the joints of the bricks or ſtones, and to open communications 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 ſlumbers; but theſe, reſiding as it were in a torrid zone, are always alert and merry: a good Chriſtmas fire is to them like the heats of the dog-days. Though they are frequently heard by day, yet is their natural time of motion only in the night. As ſoon as it grows duſk, the chirping increaſes, and they come running forth, and are from the ſize of a flea to that of their full ſtature. As one ſhould ſuppoſe, from the [255] burning atmoſphere which they inhabit, they are a thirſty race, and ſhew 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 are prognoſtic ſometimes, ſhe thinks, of ill or good luck; of the death of a near relation, or the approach of an abſent lover. By being the conſtant companions of her ſolitary hours they naturally become the objects of her ſuperſtition. Theſe crickets are not only very thirſty, but very voracious; for they will eat the ſcummings of pots, and yeaſt, ſalt, and crumbs of bread; and any kitchen offal or ſweepings. In the ſummer we have obſerved them to fly, when it became duſk, out of the windows, and over the neighbouring roofs. This feat of activity accounts for the ſudden manner in which they often leave their haunts, as it does for the method by 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 wood-peckers, opening and ſhutting their wings at every ſtroke, and ſo are always riſing or ſinking.

When they increaſe to a great degree, as they did once in the houſe where I am now writing, they become noiſome peſts, ſlying into the candles, and daſhing into people's faces; but may be blaſted and deſtroyed by gunpowder diſcharged into their crevices and crannies. 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 kneadingtroughsz."’ [256] Their ſhrilling noiſe is occaſioned by a briſk attrition of their wings. Cats catch hearth-crickets, and, playing with them as they do with mice, devour them. Crickets may be deſtroyed, like waſps, by phials half filled with beer, or any liquid, and ſet in their haunts; for, being always eager to drink, they will crowd in till the bottles are full.

LETTER XLVIII. TO THE SAME.

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 it's functions in a ſwampy wet ſoil. With a pair of fore-feet, curiouſly adapted to the purpoſe, it burrows and works under ground like the mole, raiſing a ridge as it proceeds, but ſeldom throwing up hillocks.

[257] As mole-crickets often infeſt gardens by the ſides of canals, they are unwelcome gueſts to the gardener, raiſing up ridges in their ſubterraneous progreſs, and rendering the walks unſightly. If they take to the kitchen quarters, they occaſion great damage among the plants and roots, by deſtroying whole beds of cabbages, young legumes, and flowers. When dug out they ſeem very ſlow and helpleſs, and make no uſe of their wings by day; but at night they come abroad, and make long excurſions, as I have been convinced by finding ſtragglers, in a morning, in improbable places. In fine weather, about the middle of April, and juſt at the cloſe of day, they begin to ſolace themſelves with a low, dull, jarring note, continued for a long time without interruption, and not unlike the chattering of the fern-owl, or goat-ſucker, but more inward.

About the beginning of May they lay their eggs, as I was once an eye-witneſs: for a gardener at an 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 oeconomy:

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

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 an hundred eggs of a dirty yellow colour, and enveloped in a tough ſkin, but too lately excluded to contain any rudiments of young, being full of a viſcous ſubſtance. The eggs [258] lay but ſhallow, and within the influence of the ſun, juſt under a little heap of freſh-mowed 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 kingdom people call them fen-crickets, churrworms, 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 number of their ſtomachs, or maws, there ſeems to be good reaſon to ſuppoſe that this and the two former ſpecies ruminate or chew the cud like many quadrupeds!

LETTER XLIX. TO THE SAME.

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 Engliſh name, but known to naturaliſts []

Pa. 259.

Figure 3. CHARADRIUS, Himantopus.

[259] by the terms of himantopus, or loripes, and charadrius himantopus, were ſhot upon the verge of Frinſham-pond, a large lake belonging to the Biſhop of Wincheſter, and lying between Woolmer-foreſt, and the town of Farnham, in the county of Surrey. The pond keeper ſays there were three brace in the ſlock; but that, after he had ſatisfied his curioſity, he ſuffered 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 l'echaſſe. 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 an half, and the legs four inches and an half. Hence we may ſafely aſſert that theſe birds exhibit, weight for inches, incomparably the greateſt length of legs of any known bird. The flamingo, for inſtance, is one of the moſt long legged birds, and yet it bears no manner of proportion to the himantopus; for a cock flamingo weighs, at an average, about four pounds avoirdupois; and his legs and thighs meaſure uſually about twenty inches. But four pounds are fifteen times and a fraction more than four ounces, and one quarter; and if four ounces and a quarter have eight inches of legs, four pounds muſt have one hundred and twenty inches and a fraction of legs; viz. ſomewhat more than ten feet; ſuch a monſtrous proportion as the world never ſaw! If you ſhould try the experiment in ſtill larger birds the diſparity would ſtill increaſe. It muſt be matter of great [260] curioſity to ſee the ſtilt plover move; to obſerve how it can wield ſuch a length of lever with ſuch feeble muſcles as the thighs ſeem to be 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 it's ſteps it muſt be liable, in ſpeculation, to perpetual vacillations, and ſeldom able to preſerve the true center of gravity.

The old name of himantopus is taken from Pliny; and, by an aukward metaphor, implies that the legs are as ſlender and pliant as if cut out of a thong of leather. Neither Willughby nor Ray, in all their curious reſearches, either at home or abroad, ever ſaw this bird. Mr. Pennant never met with it in all Great-Britain, but obſerved it often in the cabinets of the curious at Paris. Haſſelquiſt ſays that it migrates to Egypt in the autumn: and a moſt accurate obſerver of Nature has aſſured me that he has found it on the banks of the ſtreams in Andaluſia.

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

LETTER L. TO THE SAME.
[261]
DEAR SIR,

THE old Suſſex tortoiſe, that I have mentioned to you ſo often, is become my property. I dug it out of it's winter dormitory in March laſt, when it was enough awakened to expreſs it's reſentments by hiſſing; and, packing it in a box with earth, carried it eighty miles in poſt-chaiſes. The rattle and hurry of the journey ſo perfectly rouſed it that, when I turned it out on a border, it walked twice down to the bottom of my garden; however, in the evening, the weather being cold, it buried itſelf in the looſe mould, and continues ſtill concealed.

As it will be under my eye, I ſhall now have an opportunity of enlarging my obſervations on it's mode of life, and propenſities; and perceive already that, towards the time of coming forth, it opens a breathing place in the ground near it's head, requiring, I conclude, a freer reſpiration as it becomes more alive. This creature not only goes under the earth from the middle of November to the middle of April, but ſleeps great part of the ſummer; for it goes to bed in the longeſt days at four in the afternoon, and often does not ſtir in the morning till late. Beſides, it retires to reſt for every ſhower; and does not move at all in wet days.

[262] When one reflects on the ſtate of this ſtrange being, it is a matter of wonder to find that Providence ſhould beſtow ſuch a profuſion of days, ſuch a ſeeming waſte of longevity, on a reptile that appears to reliſh it ſo little as to ſquander more than two thirds of it's 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 50, brought forth troops of ſhell-ſnails; and, at the ſame juncture, the tortoiſe heaved up the mould and put out it's 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 coincidence! a very amuſing occurrence! to ſee ſuch a ſimilarity of feelings between the two [...]! for ſo the Greeks called both the ſhell-ſnail and the tortoiſe.

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

LETTER LI. TO THE SAME.
[263]

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 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 advantage in the ſpring, and obſerving that no martins had appeared by the 11th of April laſt; on that day I employed ſome men to explore the ſhrubs and cavities of the ſuſpected ſpot. The perſons took pains, but without any ſucceſs; however, a remarkable incident occurred in the midſt of our purſuit—while the labourers were at work a houſe-martin, the firſt that had been ſeen this year, came down the village in the ſight of ſeveral people, and went at once into a neſt, where it ſtayed a ſhort time, and then flew over the houſes; for ſome days after no martins were obſerved, not till the 16th of April, and then only a pair. Martins in general were remarkably late this year.

LETTER LII. TO THE SAME.
[264]

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 perſeverance of this individual made me ſuſpect that the ſtrongeſt of motives, that of an attachto her young, could alone occaſion ſo late a ſtay. I watched therefore till the twenty-fourth 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 twenty-ſeventh, 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 thirty-firſt 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 hippoboſcae hirundinis.

The following remarks on this unuſual incident are obvious. The firſt is, that though it may be diſagreeable to ſwifts to remain [265] beyond the beginning of Auguſt, yet that they can ſubſiſt longer is undeniable. The ſecond is, that this uncommon event, as it was owing to the loſs of the firſt brood, ſo it corroborates my former remark, that ſwifts breed regularly but once; ſince, was the contrary the caſe, the occurrence above could neither be new nor rare.

P.S. One ſwift was ſeen at Lyndon, in the county of Rutland, in 1782, ſo late as the third of September.

LETTER LIII. TO THE SAME.

AS I have ſometimes known you make inquiries about ſeveral kinds of inſects, I ſhall here ſend you an account of one ſort which I little expected to have found in this kingdom. I had often obſerved that one particular part of a vine growing on the walls of my houſe was covered in the autumn with a black duſtlike 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 ſubſtance I applied my glaſſes; but could not diſcover that it had any thing to do with animal life, as I at firſt expected: but, upon a cloſer examination behind the larger [266] boughs, we were ſurpriſed to find that they were coated over with huſky ſhells, from whoſe ſides proceeded a cotton-like ſubſtance, ſurrounding a multitude of eggs. This curious and uncommon production put me upon recollecting what I have heard and read concerning the coccus vitis viniferae of Linnaeus, which, in the ſouth of Europe, infeſts many vines, and is an 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 uncommonly ſevere.

Not being then at all aware that it had any thing to do with England, I was much inclined to think that it came from Gibraltar among the many boxes and packages of plants and birds which I had formerly received from thence; and eſpecially as the vine infeſted grew immediately under my ſtudy-window, where I uſually kept my ſpecimens. True it is that I had received nothing from thence for ſome years: but as inſects, we know, are conveyed from one country to another in a very unexpected manner, and have a wonderful power of maintaining their exiſtence till they fall into a nidus proper for their ſupport and increaſe, I cannot but ſuſpect ſtill that theſe cocei came to me originally from Andaluſia. Yet, all the while, candour obliges me to confeſs that Mr. Lightfoot has written me word that he once, and but once, ſaw theſe inſects on a vine at Weymouth in Dorſetſhire; which, it is here to be 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 Gibraltar, written by the Reverend John White, late vicar of Blackburn in Lancaſhire, but not yet publiſhed:—

[267] ‘"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 overſpread on all the woody branches with large lumps of a white fibrous ſubſtance reſembling ſpiders webs, or rather raw cotton. It was of a very clammy quality, ſticking faſt to every thing that touched it, and capable of being ſpun into long threads. At firſt I ſuſpected it to be the product of ſpiders, but could find none. Nothing was to be ſeen connected with it but many brown oval huſky ſhells, which by no means looked like inſects, but rather reſembled bits of the dry bark of the vine. The tree had a plentiful crop of grapes ſet, when this peſt appeared upon it; but the fruit was manifeſtly injured by this foul incumbrance. It remained all the ſummer, ſtill increaſing, and loaded the woody and bearing branches to a vaſt degree. I often pulled off great quantities by handfuls; but it was ſo ſlimy and tenacious that it could by no means be cleared. The grapes never filled to their natural perfection, but turned watery and vapid. Upon peruſing the works afterwards of M. de Reaumur, I found this matter perfectly deſcribed and accounted for. Thoſe huſky ſhells, which I had obſerved, were no other than the female coccus, from whoſe ſides this cotton-like ſubſtance exſudes, 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 gardener in a ſummer or two has entirely relieved my vine from this filthy annoyance.

[268] As we have remarked above that inſects are often conveyed from one country to another in a very unaccountable manner, I ſhall here mention an emigration of ſmall aphides, which was obſerved in the village of Selborne no longer ago than Auguſt the 1ſt, 1785.

At about three o'clock in the afternoon of that day, which was very hot, the people of this village were ſurpriſed by a ſhower of aphides, or ſmother-flies, which fell in theſe parts. Thoſe that were walking in the ſtreet at that juncture found themſelves covered with theſe inſects, which ſettled alſo on the hedges and gardens, blackening all the vegetables where they alighted. My annuals were diſcoloured with them, and the ſtalks of a bed of onions were quite coated over for ſix days after. Theſe armies were then, no doubt, in a ſtate of emigration, and ſhifting their quarters; and might have come, as 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 a.

LETTER LIV. TO THE SAME.
[269]
DEAR SIR,

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 of thoſe beings with whom we can be little acquainted in their natural ſtate. Not long ſince I ſpent a fortnight at the houſe of a friend where there was ſuch a vivary, to which I paid no ſmall attention, taking every occaſion to remark what paſſed within it's narrow limits. It was here that I firſt obſerved the manner in which fiſhes die. As ſoon as the creature ſickens, the head ſinks lower and lower, and it ſtands as it were on it's head; till, getting weaker, and loſing all poiſe, the tail turns over, and at laſt it floats on the ſurface of the water with it's 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 it's own gravity, and turns the belly uppermoſt, as lighter from it's 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 [270] nouriſhment 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 readineſs, not to ſay greedineſs: however, bread ſhould be given ſparingly, leſt, turning ſour, it corrupt the water. They will alſo feed on the water-plant called lemna (duck's meat), and alſo on ſmall fry.

When they want to move a little they gently protrude themſelves with their pinnae pectorales; but it is with their ſtrong muſcular tails only that they and all fiſhes ſhoot along with ſuch inconceivable rapidity. It has been ſaid that the eyes of fiſhes are immoveable: but theſe apparently turn them forward or backward in their ſockets as their occaſions require. They take little notice of a lighted candle, though applied cloſe to their heads, but flounce and ſeem much frightened by a ſudden ſtroke of the hand againſt the ſupport whereon the bowl is hung; eſpecially when they have been motionleſs, and are perhaps aſleep. As fiſhes have no eyelids, it is not eaſy to diſcern when they are ſleeping or not, becauſe their eyes are always open.

Nothing can be more amuſing than a glaſs bowl containing ſuch fiſhes: the double refractions of the glaſs and water repreſent them, when moving, in a ſhifting and changeable variety of dimenſions, ſhades, and colours; while the two mediums, aſſiſted by the concavo-convex ſhape of the veſſel, magnify and diſtort them vaſtly; not to mention that the introduction of another element and it's inhabitants into our parlours engages the fancy in a very agreeable manner.

[271] Gold and ſilver fiſhes, though originally natives of China and Japan, yet are become ſo well reconciled to our climate as to thrive and multiply very faſt in our ponds and ſtews. Linnaeus ranks this ſpecies of fiſh under the genus of cyprinus, or carp, and calls it cyprinus auratus.

Some people exhibit this ſort of fiſh in a very fanciful way; for they cauſe a glaſs bowl to be blown with a large hollow ſpace within, that does not communicate with it. In this cavity they put a bird occaſionally; ſo that you may ſee a goldfinch or a linnet hopping as it were in the midſt of the water, and the fiſhes ſwimming in a circle round it. The ſimple exhibition of the fiſhes is agreeable and pleaſant; but in ſo complicated a way becomes whimſical and unnatural, and liable to the objection due to him,

"Qui variare cupit rem prodigialitèr unam."
I am, &c.
LETTER LV. TO THE SAME.
[272]
DEAR SIR,

I THINK I have obſerved before that much the moſt conſiderable part of the houſe-martins withdraw from hence about the firſt week in October; but that ſome, the latter broods I am now convinced, linger on till 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 theſe 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 evenings together, juſt at a quarter paſt five in the afternoon, they all ſcudded away in great haſte towards the ſoutheaſt, and darted down among the low ſhrubs above the cottages at the end of the hill. This ſpot in many reſpects ſeems to be well calculated for their winter reſidence: for in many parts it is as [273] ſteep as the roof of any houſe, and therefore ſecure from the annoyances of water; and it is moreover clothed with beechen ſhrubs, which, being ſtunted and bitten by ſheep, make the thickeſt covert imaginable; and are ſo entangled as to be impervious to the ſmalleſt ſpaniel: beſides, it is the nature of underwood beech never to caſt it's leaf all the winter; ſo that, with the leaves on the ground and thoſe on the twigs, no ſhelter can be more complete. I watched them on to the thirteenth and fourteenth of October, and found their evening retreat was exact and uniform; but after this they made no regular appearance. Now and then a ſtraggler was ſeen; and, on the twenty-ſecond of October, I obſerved two in the morning over the village, and with them my remarks for the ſeaſon ended.

From all theſe circumſtances put together, it is more than probable that this lingering flight, at ſo late a ſeaſon of the year, never departed from the iſland. Had they indulged me that autumn with a November viſit, as I much deſired, I preſume that, with proper aſſiſtants, I ſhould have ſettled the matter paſt all doubt; but though the third of November was a ſweet day, and in appearance exactly ſuited to my wiſhes, yet not a martin was to be ſeen; and ſo I was forced, reluctantly, to give up the purſuit.

I have only to add that were the buſhes, which cover ſome acres, and are not my own property, to be grubbed and carefully examined, probably thoſe late broods, and perhaps the whole aggregate body of the houſe-martins of this diſtrict, might be found there, in different ſecret dormitories; and that, ſo far from withdrawing into warmer climes, it would appear that they never depart three hundred yards from the village.

LETTER LVI. TO THE SAME.
[274]

THEY who write on natural hiſtory cannot too frequently advert to inſtinct, that wonderful limited faculty, which, in ſome inſtances, raiſes the brute creation as it were above reaſon, and in others leaves them ſo far below it. Philoſophers have defined inſtinct to be that ſecret influence by which every ſpecies is impelled naturally to purſue, at all times, the ſame way or track, without any teaching or example; whereas reaſon, without inſtruction, would often vary and 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 circumſtances of place and convenience.

It has been remarked that every ſpecies of bird has a mode of nidification peculiar to itſelf; ſo that a ſchool-boy would at once pronounce on the ſort of neſt before him. This is the caſe among fields and woods, and wilds; but, in the villages round London, where moſſes and goſſamer, and cotton from vegetables, are hardly to be found, the neſt of the chaffinch has not that elegant finiſhed appearance, nor is it ſo beautifully ſtudded with lichens, as in a more rural diſtrict: and the wren is obliged to conſtruct it's houſe with ſtraws and dry graſſes, which do not give it that rotundity and compactneſs ſo remarkable in the edifices of that little architect. Again, the regular neſt of the houſe-martin is [275] hemiſpheric; but where a rafter, or a joiſt, or a cornice, may happen to ſtand in the way, the neſt is ſo contrived as to conform to the obſtruction, and becomes flat or oval, or compreſſed.

In the following inſtances inſtinct is perfectly uniform and conſiſtent. There are three creatures, the ſquirrel, the field-mouſe, and the bird called the nut-batch, (ſitta Europaea), which live much on hazlenuts; 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, ſo regular as if drilled with a wimble, and yet ſo ſmall that one would wonder how the kernel can be extracted through it; while the laſt picks an irregular ragged hole with it's 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 ſhell. We have often placed nuts in the chink of a gate-poſt where nut-hatches have been known to haunt, and have always found that thoſe birds have readily penetrated them. While at work they make a rapping noiſe that may be heard at a conſiderable diſtance.

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

‘"Praehabebat porrò vocibus humanis, inſtrumentiſque harmonicis muſicam illam avium: non quod aliâ quoque non delectaretur; ſed quod ex muſicâ humanâ relinqueretur in animo continens quaedam, attentionemque et ſomnum conturbans agitatio; dum aſcenſus, exſcenſus, tenores, ac mutationes [276] illae ſonorum, et conſonantiarum euntque, redeuntque per phantaſiam:—cum nihil tale relinqui poſſit ex modulationibus avium, quae, quod non ſunt perinde a nobis imitabiles, non poſſunt perinde internam facultatem commovere."’ Gaſſendus in Vitâ Peireſkii.

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

I am, &c.
LETTER LVII. TO THE SAME.
[277]

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 kingdom; and I have received formerly ſeveral dead ſpecimens from Gibraltar. This bird much reſembles the white-throat, but has a more white or rather ſilvery breaſt and belly; is reſtleſs and active, like the willow-wrens, and hops from bough to bough, examining every part for food; it alſo runs up the ſtems of the crown-imperials, and, putting it's head into the bells of thoſe flowers, ſips the liquor which ſtands in the nectarium of each petal. Sometimes it feeds on the ground like the hedge-ſparrow, by hopping about on the graſs-plots and mown walks.

One of my neighbours, an intelligent and obſerving man, informs me that, in the beginning of May, and about ten minutes before eight o'clock in the evening, he diſcovered a great cluſter of houſe-ſwallows, thirty at leaſt he ſuppoſes, perching on a willow that hung over the verge of James Knight's upper-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, ſpring and fall, induce us greatly to ſuſpect that houſe-ſwallows have ſome ſtrong [278] attachment to water, independent of the matter of food; and, though they may not retire into that element, yet they may conceal themſelves in the banks of pools and rivers during the uncomfortable months of winter.

One of the keepers of Woolmer-foreſt ſent me a peregrine-falcon, which he ſhot on the verge of that diſtrict as it was devouring a wood-pigeon. The falco peregrinus, or haggard falcon, is a noble ſpecies of hawk ſeldom ſeen in the ſouthern counties. In winter 1767 one was killed in the neighbouring pariſh of Faringdon, and ſent by me to Mr. Pennant into North-Wales b. 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 an half ſtanding weight. This ſpecies is very robuſt, and wonderfully formed for rapine: it's breaſt was plump and muſcular; it's thighs long, thick, and brawny; and it's legs remarkably ſhort and well ſet: the feet were armed with moſt formidable, ſharp, long talons: the eyelids and cere of the bill were yellow; but the irides of the eyes duſky; the beak was thick and hooked, and of a dark colour, and had a jagged proceſs near the end of the upper mandible on each ſide: it's tail, or train, was ſhort in proportion to the bulk of it's body: yet the wings, when cloſed, did not extend to the end of the train. From it's 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 it's craw were many barleycorns, which probably came from the crop of the wood-pigeon, on [279] which it was feeding when ſhot: for voracious birds do not eat grain; but, when devouring their quarry, with undiſtinguiſhing vehemence ſwallow bones and feathers, and all matters, indiſcriminately. This falcon was probably driven from the mountains of North Wales or Scotland, where they are known to breed, by rigorous weather and deep ſnows that had lately fallen.

I am, &c.
LETTER LVIII. TO THE SAME.

MY near neighbour, a young gentleman in the ſervice of the Eaſt-India Company, has brought home a dog and a bitch of the Chineſe breed from Canton; ſuch as are fattened in that country for the purpoſe of being eaten: they are about the ſize of a moderate ſpaniel; of a pale yellow colour, with coarſe briſtling 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 aukward gait when they trot. When they are in motion their tails are curved high over their backs like thoſe of ſome hounds, and have a bare place each on the outſide from the tip midway, that does not ſeem to be matter of [280] accident, but ſomewhat ſingular. Their eyes are jet-black, ſmall, and piercing; the inſides of their lips and mouths of the ſame colour, and their tongues blue. The bitch has a dew-claw on each hind leg; the dog has none. When taken out into a field the bitch ſhowed ſome diſpoſition for hunting, and dwelt on the ſcent of a covey of partridges till ſhe ſprung them, giving her tongue all the time. The dogs in South America are dumb; but theſe bark much in a ſhort thick manner, like foxes; and have a ſurly, ſavage demeanour like their anceſtors, which are not domeſticated, but bred up in ſties, where they are fed for the table with rice-meal and other farinaceous food. Theſe dogs, having been taken on 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 Oby are engraved with prick-ears, like thoſe from Canton. The Kamſchatdales alſo train the ſame ſort of ſharp-eared peak-noſed dogs to draw their ſledges; as may be ſeen in an elegant print engraved for Captain Cook's laſt voyage round the world.

Now we are upon the ſubject of dogs, it may not be impertinent to add, that ſpaniels, as all ſporſmen 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 [281] is remarkable for finding that ſort of game. But, when we came to offer the bones of partridges to the two Chineſe dogs, they devoured them with much greedineſs, and licked the platter clean.

No ſporting dogs will fluſh woodcocks till inured to the ſcent and trained to the ſport, which they then purſue with vehemence and tranſport; but then they will not touch their bones, but turn from them with abhorrence, even when they are hungry.

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

I am, &c.
LETTER LIX. TO THE SAME.
[282]

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 but-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 inlaying it along with whiter woods.

Thoſe that are much abroad on evenings after it is dark, in ſpring and ſummer, frequently hear a nocturnal bird paſſing by on the wing, and repeating often a ſhort quick note. This bird I have remarked myſelf, but never could make out till lately. I am aſſured now that it is the Stone-curlew, (charadrius oedicnemus). Some of them paſs over or near my houſe almoſt every evening after it is dark, from the uplands of the hill and 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 often repeated become ſignals or watch-words to keep them together, that they may not ſtray or loſe each the other in the dark.

[283] The evening proceedings and manoeuvres of the 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 Selborne-down, where they wheel round in the air, and ſport and dive in a playful manner, all the while exerting their voices, and making a loud cawing, which, being blended and ſoftened by the diſtance that we at the village are below them, becomes a confuſed noiſe or chiding; or rather a pleaſing murmur, very engaging to the imagination, and not unlike the cry of a pack of hounds in hollow, echoing woods, or the ruſhing of the wind in tall trees, or the tumbling of the tide upon a pebbly ſhore. When this ceremony is over, with the laſt gleam of day, they retire for the night to the deep beechen woods of Tiſted and Ropley. We remember a little girl who, as ſhe was going to bed, uſed to remark on ſuch an occurrence, in the true ſpirit of phyſico-theology, that the rooks were ſaying their prayers; and yet this child was much too young to be aware that the ſcriptures have ſaid of the Deity—that ‘"he feedeth the ravens who call upon him."’

I am, &c.
LETTER LX. TO THE SAME.
[284]

IN reading Dr. Huxham's Obſervationes de Aēre, &c. written at Plymouth, I find by thoſe curious and accurate remarks, which contain an account of the weather from the year 1727 to the year 1748, incluſive, that though there is frequent rain in that diſtrict of Devonſhire, yet the quantity falling is not great; and that ſome years it has been very ſmall: for in 1731 the rain meaſured only 17inch.—266thou. 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 opinion 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; and did never recollect that the air had that look in rainy ſeaſons.

[285] My friend, who lives juſt beyond the top of the down, brought his three ſwivel guns to try them in my outlet, with their muzzles towards the Hanger, ſuppoſing that the report would have had a great effect; but the experiment did not anſwer his expectation. He then removed them to the Alcove on the Hanger; when the ſound, ruſhing along the Lythe and Comb-wood, was very grand: but it was at the Hermitage that the echoes and repercuſſions delighted the hearers; not only filling the Lythe with the roar, as if all the beeches were tearing up by the roots; but, turning to the left, they pervaded the vale above Combwood-ponds; and after a pauſe ſeemed to take up the craſh again, and to extend round Harteley-hangers, and to die away at laſt among the coppices and coverts of Ward-le-ham. It has been remarked before that this diſtrict is an anathoth, a place of reſponſes or echoes, and therefore proper for ſuch experiments: we may farther 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 abovementioned has juſt fixed a barometer in his parlour at Newton Valence. The tube was firſt filled here (at Selborne) twice with care, when the mercury agreed and ſtood exactly with my own; but, being filled again twice at Newton, the mercury ſtood, on account of the great elevation of that houſe, three-tenths of an inch lower than the barometers at this village, and ſo continues to do, be the weight of the atmoſphere what it may. The plate of the barometer at Newton is figured as low as 27; becauſe in ſtormy weather the mercury there will ſometimes deſcend below 28. We have ſuppoſed Newton-houſe to ſtand two hundred feet higher than this houſe: but if the rule holds good, which ſays that mercury in a barometer ſinks one-tenth [286] 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 writing, inſtead of two hundred.

It may not be impertinent to add, that the barometers at Selborne ſtand three-tenths of an inch lower than the 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 London. Of courſe therefore there muſt be lower ground all the way from Selborne to South Lambeth; the diſtance between which, all the windings and indentings of the ſtreams conſidered, cannot be leſs than an hundred miles.

I am, &c.
LETTER LXI. TO THE SAME.
[287]

SINCE the weather of a diſtrict is undoubtedly part of it's 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 ever-greens, ſome account of it's rigour, and reaſon of it's 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 a conſiderable influence in ſheltered ſituations.

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

From hence I would infer that it is the repeated melting and freezing of the ſnow that is ſo fatal to vegetation, rather than the ſeverity of the cold. Therefore it highly behoves every planter, who wiſhes to eſcape the cruel mortification of loſing in a few days the labour and hopes of years, to beſtir himſelf on ſuch emergencies; and, if his plantations are ſmall, to avail himſelf of mats, cloths, peaſe-haum, ſtraw, reeds, or any ſuch covering, for a ſhort time; or, if his ſhrubberies are extenſive, to ſee that his people go about with prongs and forks, and carefully diſlodge the ſnow from the boughs: ſince the naked foliage will ſhift much better for itſelf, than where the ſnow is partly melted and frozen again.

It may perhaps appear at firſt like a paradox; but 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; becauſe, on the very firſt advances of ſpring, they ſhoot away, and ſo are cut off by the ſevere nights of March or April.

Dr. Fothergill and others have experienced the ſame inconvenience with reſpect to the more tender ſhrubs from North-America; which they therefore plant under north-walls. There ſhould alſo perhaps [289] be a wall to the eaſt to defend them from the piercing blaſts from that quarter.

This obſervation might without any impropriety be carried into animal life; for diſcerning bee-maſters now find that their hives ſhould not in the winter be expoſed to the hot ſun, becauſe ſuch unſeaſonable warmth awakens the inhabitants too early from their ſlumbers; and, by putting their juices into motion too ſoon, ſubjects them afterwards to inconveniencies when rigorous weather returns.

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

On the 3d of January Benjamin Martin's thermometer within doors, in a cloſe parlour where there was no fire, fell in the night to 20, and on the 4th to 18, and on the 7th to 17½, a degree of cold which the owner never ſince ſaw in the ſame ſituation; and he regrets much that he was not able at that juncture to attend his inſtrument abroad. All this time the wind continued north and north-eaſt; and yet on the 8th rooſt-cocks, which had been ſilent, began to ſound their clarions, and crows to clamour, as prognoſtic of milder weather; and, moreover, moles began to [288] [...] [289] [...] [290] heave and work, and a manifeſt thaw took place. From the latter circumſtance we may conclude that thaws often originate under ground from warm vapours which ariſe; elſe how ſhould ſubterraneous animals receive ſuch early intimations of their approach. Moreover, we have often obſerved that cold ſeems to deſcend from above; for, when a 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 it's 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 gradation, yet thaws do not uſually come on by as regular a declenſion of cold; but often take place immediately from intenſe freezing; as men in ſickneſs often mend at once from a paroxyſm.

To the great credit of Portugal laurels and American junipers, be it remembered that they remained untouched amidſt the general havock: 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 appeared afterwards the ilexes were much injured, the cypreſſes were half deſtroyed, the arbutuſes lingered on, but never recovered; and the bays, lauruſtines, and laurels, were killed to the ground; and the very wild hollies, in hot aſpects, were ſo much affected that they caſt all their leaves.

By the 14th of January the ſnow was entirely gone; the turnips emerged not damaged at all, ſave in ſunny places; the wheat looked delicately, and the garden plants were well preſerved; [291] 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.

LETTER LXI. TO THE SAME.

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

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

[262] January 7th.—Snow driving all the day, which was followed by froſt, ſleet, and ſome ſnow, till the 12th, when a prodigious maſs overwhelmed all the works of men, drifting over the tops of the gates and filling the hollow lanes.

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 to 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 compelled by hunger; being conſcious, poor animals, that the drifts and heaps treacherouſly betray their footſteps, 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; and eſpecially on the weſtern roads, where the fall appears to have been deeper than in the ſouth. The company at Bath, that wanted to attend the Queen's birth-day, were ſtrangely incommoded: many carriages of perſons, who got in their way to town from Bath as far as Marlborough, after ſtrange embarraſſments, here met with a ne plus ultra. The ladies fretted, and offered large rewards to labourers if they would ſhovel them a track to London: but the relentleſs heaps of ſnow were too bulky to be removed; and ſo the 18th paſſed over, leaving the company in very uncomfortable circumſtances at the Caſtle and other inns.

[293] On the 20th the ſun ſhone out for the firſt time ſince the froſt began; a circumſtance that has been remarked before much in favour of vegetation. All this time the cold was not very intenſe, for the thermometer ſtood at 29, 28, 25, and thereabout; but on the 21ſt it deſcended to 20. The birds now began to be in a very pitiable and ſtarving condition. Tamed by the ſeaſon, ſky-larks 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 men's gardens, and, ſcraping away the ſnow, devoured ſuch plants as they could find.

On the 22d the author had occaſion to go to London through a ſort of Laplandian-ſcene, very wild and groteſque indeed. But the metropolis itſelf exhibited a ſtill more ſingular appearance than the country; for, being bedded deep in ſnow, the pavement 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 deſolation:

" — ipſa ſilentia terrent."

On the 27th much ſnow fell all day, and in the evening the froſt became very intenſe. At South Lambeth, ſor the four following nights, the thermometer fell to 11, 7, 6, 6; and at Selborne to 7, 6, 10; and on the 31ſt of January, juſt before ſun-riſe, with rime on the trees and on the tube of the glaſs, the quickſilver ſunk exactly to zero, being 32 degrees below the freezing point: but by eleven in the morning, though in the [294] ſhade, it ſprung up to 16½g.—a moſt unuſual degree of cold this for the ſouth of England! During theſe four nights the cold was ſo penetrating that it occaſioned ice in warm chambers and under beds; and in the day the wind was ſo keen that perſons of robuſt conſtitutions could ſcarcely endure to face it. The Thames was at once ſo frozen over both above and below bridge that crowds ran about on the ice. The ſtreets were now ſtrangely encumbered with ſnow, which crumbled and trod duſty; and, turning grey, reſembled bay-ſalt: what had fallen on the roofs was ſo perfectly dry that, from firſt to laſt, it lay twenty-ſix days on the houſes in the city; a longer time than had been remembered by the oldeſt houſekeepers living. According to all appearances we might now have expected the continuance of this rigorous weather for weeks to come, ſince every night increaſed in ſeverity; but behold, without any apparent cauſe, on the 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, without any gradual declenſion of cold. On the 2d of February the thaw perſiſted; and on the 3d ſwarms 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 currents; for, at the ſame juncture, as the author was informed by accurate correſpondents, [295] at Lyndon, in the county of Rutland, the thermometer ſtood at 19; at Blackburn, in Lancaſhire, at 19; and at Mancheſter at 21, 20, and 18. Thus does ſome unknown circumſtance ſtrangely overbalance latitude, and render the cold ſometimes much greater in the ſouthern than the northern parts of this kingdom.

The conſequences of this ſeverity were, that in Hampſhire, at the melting of the ſnow, the wheat looked well, and the turnips came forth little injured. The laurels and 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-ſides were perfectly untouched on their north-ſides. The care taken to ſhake the ſnow day by day from the branches ſeemed greatly to avail the author's evergreens. A neighbour's laurelhedge, in a high ſituation, and facing to the north, was perfectly green and vigorous; and the Portugal laurels remained unhurt.

As to the birds, the thruſhes and blackbirds were moſtly deſtroyed; and the partridges, by the weather and poachers, were ſo thinned that few remained to breed the following year.

LETTER LXII. TO THE SAME.
[296]

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

The firſt week in December was very wet, with the barometer very low. On the 7th, with the barometer 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 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 thermometer: we therefore hung out two; one made by Martin and one by Dollond, which ſoon began to ſhew us what we were to expect; for, by ten o'clock, they fell to 21, and at eleven to 4, when we went to bed. On the 10th, in the morning, the quickſilver of Dollond's glaſs was down to half a degree below zero; and that of Martin's, which was abſurdly graduated only to four degrees above zero, ſunk quite into the braſs guard of the ball; ſo that when the weather became moſt intereſting this was uſeleſs. On the 10th, at eleven at night, though the air was perfectly ſtill, Dollond's glaſs went down [297] to one degree below zero! This ſtrange ſeverity of the weather made me very deſirous to know what degree of cold there might be in ſuch an exalted and near ſituation as Newton. We had therefore, on the morning of the 10th, written to Mr. —, and entreated him to hang out his thermometer, made by Adams; and to pay ſome attention to it morning and evening; expecting wonderful phaenomena, in ſo elevated a region, at two hundred feet or more above my houſe. But, behold! on the 10th, at eleven at night, it was down only to 17, and the next morning at 22, when mine was at ten! We were ſo diſturbed at this unexpected reverſe of comparative local cold, that we ſent one of my glaſſes up, thinking that of Mr. — muſt, ſome how, 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 degrees leſs than at Selborne; and, through the whole froſt, 10 or 12 degrees; and indeed, when we came to obſerve conſequences, we could readily credit this; for all my lauruſtines, bays, ilexes, arbutuſes, cypreſſes, and even my Portugal laurels h, and (which occaſions more regret) my fine ſloping laurel-hedge, were ſcorched up; while, at Newton, the ſame trees have not loſt a leaf!

We had ſteady froſt on to the 25th, when the thermometer in the morning was down to 10 with us, and at Newton only to 21. Strong froſt continued till the 31ſt, when ſome tendency to thaw was obſerved; and, by January the 3d, 1785, the thaw was confirmed, and ſome rain fell.

[298] A circumſtance that I muſt not omit, becauſe it was new to us, is, that on Friday, December the 10th, being bright ſun-ſhine, the air was full of icy ſpiculae, floating in all directions, like atoms in a ſun-beam let into a dark room. We thought them at firſt particles of the rime falling from my tall hedges; but were ſoon convinced to the contrary, by making our obſervations in open places where no rime could reach us. Were they watery particles of the air frozen as they floated; or were they evaporations from the ſnow frozen as they mounted?

We were much obliged to the thermometers for the early information they gave us; and hurried our apples, pears, onions, potatoes, &c. into the cellar, and warm cloſets; while thoſe who had not, or neglected ſuch warnings, loſt all their ſtore of roots and fruits, and had their very bread and cheeſe frozen.

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

I forgot to mention before, that, during the two ſevere days, two men, who were tracing hares in the ſnow, had their feet frozen; and two men, who were much better employed, had their fingers ſo affected by the froſt, while they were thraſhing in a barn, that 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, before old November ended; and yet may be allowed from it's effects to have exceeded any ſince 1739-40.

LETTER LXIII. TO THE SAME.
[299]

As the effects of heat are ſeldom very remarkable in the northerly climate of England, where the ſummers are often ſo defective in warmth and ſun-ſhine as not to ripen the fruits of the earth ſo well as might be wiſhed, I ſhall be more conciſe in my account of the ſeverity of a ſummer 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 was ſcalded and came off; ſince which the trees have been in a decaying ſtate. This may prove a hint to aſſiduous gardeners to fence and ſhelter their wall-trees with mats or boards, as they may eaſily do, becauſe ſuch annoyance is ſeldom of long 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 would not keep in the winter. This circumſtance put me in mind of what I have heard travellers aſſert, that they never ate a good apple or apricot in the ſouth of Europe, [300] where the heats were ſo great as to render the juices vapid and inſipid.

The great peſts of a garden are waſps, which deſtroy all the finer fruits juſt as they are coming into perfection. In 1781 we had none; in 1783 there were myriads; which would have devoured all the produce of my garden, had not we ſet the boys to take the neſts, and caught thouſands with hazel-twigs tipped with bird-lime: we have ſince employed the boys to take and deſtroy the large breeding waſps in 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 in every hot ſummer, as I have inſtanced in the two years abovementioned.

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 behold, became the next the moſt loathſome; being enveloped in a viſcous ſubſtance, and loaded with black aphides, or ſmother-flies. The occaſion of this clammy appearance ſeems to be this, that in hot weather the effluvia of flowers in fields and meadows and gardens are drawn up in the day by a briſk evaporation, and then in the night fall down again with the dews, in which they are entangled; that the air is ſtrongly ſcented, and therefore impregnated with the particles of flowers in ſummer weather, our ſenſes will inform us; and that this clammy ſweet ſubſtance is of the vegetable kind we may learn from bees, to whom it is very grateful: and we may be aſſured that it falls in the night, becauſe it is always firſt ſeen in warm ſtill mornings.

[301] On chalky and ſandy ſoils, and in the hot villages about London, the thermometer has been often obſerved to mount as high as 83 or 84; but with us, in this hilly and woody diſtrict, I have hardly ever ſeen it exceed 80; nor does it often arrive at that pitch. The reaſon, I conclude, is, that our denſe clayey ſoil, ſo much ſhaded by trees, is not ſo eaſily heated through as thoſe abovementioned: and, beſides, our mountains cauſe currents of air and breezes; and the vaſt effluvia from our woodlands temper and moderate our heats.

LETTER LXIV. TO THE SAME.

THE ſummer of the year 1783 was an amazing and portentous one, and full of horrible phaenomena; for, beſides the alarming meteors and tremendous thunder-ſtorms that affrighted and diſtreſſed the different counties of this kingdom, the peculiar haze, or ſmokey fog, that prevailed for many weeks in this iſland, and in every part of Europe, and even beyond it's limits, was a moſt extraordinary appearance, unlike any thing known within the memory of man. By my journal I find that I had noticed this ſtrange occurrence from June 23 to July 20 incluſive, during which period the wind varied to every quarter without making any alteration [302] 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 particularly lurid and blood-coloured at riſing and ſetting. 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 people 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 applicable, becauſe, towards the end, it alludes to a ſuperſtitious kind of dread, with which the minds of men are always impreſſed by ſuch ſtrange and unuſual phaenomena.

" — As when the ſun, new riſen,
"Looks through the horizontal, miſty air,
"Shorn of his beams; or from behind the moon,
"In dim eclipſe, diſaſtrous twilight ſheds
"On half the nations, and with fear of change
"Perplexes monarchs —"
LETTER LXV. TO THE SAME.
[303]

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 ſummer 1783, when, though the country round was continually haraſſed with tempeſts, and often from the ſouth, yet we eſcaped them all; as appears by my journal of that ſummer. The only way that I can at all account for this fact—for ſuch it is—is that, on that quarter, between us and the ſea, there are continual mountains, hill behind hill, ſuch as Nore-hill, the Barnet, Butſer-bill, and Ports-down, which ſome how divert the ſtorms, and give them a different direction. High promontories, and elevated grounds, have always been obſerved to attract clouds and diſarm them of their miſchievous contents, which are diſcharged into the trees and ſummits as ſoon as they come in contact with thoſe turbulent meteors; while the humble vales eſcape, becauſe they are ſo far beneath them.

But, when I ſay I do not remember a thunder-ſtorm from the ſouth, I do not mean that we never have ſuffered from thunderſtorms [304] 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 gathering of the clouds in the north; which they who were abroad aſſured me had ſomething uncommon in it's appearance. At about a quarter after two the ſtorm began in the pariſh of Hartley, moving ſlowly from north to ſouth; and from thence it came over Norton-farm, and ſo to Grange-farm, both in this pariſh. It began with vaſt drops of rain, which were ſoon ſucceeded by round hail, and then by convex pieces of ice, which meaſured three inches in girth. Had it been as extenſive as it was violent, and of any continuance (for it was very ſhort), it muſt have ravaged all the neighbourhood. In the pariſh of Hartley it did ſome damage to one farm; but Norton, which lay in the center 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 ſudden; doing great damage to the meadows and fallows, by deluging the one and waſhing away the ſoil of the other. The hollow lane towards Alton was ſo torn and diſordered as not to be paſſable till mended, rocks being removed that weighed 200 weight. Thoſe that ſaw the effect which the [305] great hail had on ponds and pools ſay that the daſhing of the water made an extraordinary appearance, the froth and ſpray ſtanding up in the air three feet above the ſurface. The ruſhing and roaring of the hail, as it approached, was truly tremendous.

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

When I firſt took the preſent work in hand I propoſed to have added an Annus Hiſtorico-naturalis, or The Natural Hiſtory of the Twelve Months of the Year; which would have compriſed many incidents and occurrences that have not fallen in my way to be mentioned in my ſeries of letters;—but, as Mr. Aikin of Warrington has lately 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.
[]

THE ANTIQUITIES OF SELBORNE, IN THE COUNTY OF SOUTHAMPTON.

BEATE MARIE D'SELEBVRN SIGIL CONVENTVS ECCLE

— JUVAT IRE —
DESERTOSQUE VIDERE LOCOS —
VIRGIL

THE ANTIQUITIES OF SELBORNE.

[309]

LETTER I.

IT is reaſonable to ſuppoſe that in remote ages this woody and mountainous diſtrict was inhabited only by bears and wolves. Whether the Britons ever thought it worthy their attention, is not in our power to determine; but we may ſafely conclude, from circumſtances, that it was not unknown to the Romans. Old people remember to have heard their fathers and grandfathers ſay that, in dry ſummers and in windy weather, pieces of money were ſometimes found round the verge of Woolmer-pond; and tradition had inſpired the foreſters with a notion that the bottom of that lake contained great ſtores of treaſure. During the ſpring and ſummer [310] of 1740 there was little rain; and the following ſummer alſo, 1741, was ſo uncommonly dry, that many ſprings and ponds failed, and this lake in particular, whoſe bed became as duſty as the ſurrounding heaths and waſtes. This favourable juncture induced ſome of the foreſt-cottagers to begin a ſearch, which was attended with ſuch ſucceſs, that all the labourers in the neighbourhood flocked to the ſpot, and with ſpades and hoes turned up great part of that large area. Inſtead of pots of coins, as they expected, they found great heaps, the one lying on the other, as if ſhot out of a bag; many of which were in good preſervation. Silver and gold theſe inquirers expected to find; but their diſcoveries conſiſted ſolely of many hundreds of Roman copper-coins, and ſome medallions, all of the lower empire. There was not much virtù ſtirring at that time in this neighbourhood; however, ſome of the gentry and clergy around bought what pleaſed them beſt; and ſome dozens fell to the ſhare of the author.

The owners at firſt held their commodity at an high price; but, finding that they were not likely to meet with dealers at ſuch a rate, they ſoon lowered their terms, and ſold the faireſt as they could. The coins that were rejected became current, and paſſed for farthings at the petty ſhops. Of thoſe that we ſaw, the greater part were of Marcus Aurelius, and the Empreſs Fauſtina, his wife, the father and mother of Commodus. Some of Fauſtina were in high relief, and exhibited a very agreeable ſet of features, which probably reſembled that lady, who was more celebrated for her beauty than for her virtues. The medallions in general were of a paler colour than the coins. To pretend to account for the means of their coming to this place would be ſpending time in conjecture. The ſpot, I think, could not be a Roman camp, becauſe it is commanded by hills on two ſides; nor does it ſhew the leaſt traces [311] of entrenchments; nor can I ſuppoſe that it was a Roman town, becauſe I have too good an opinion of the taſte and judgment of thoſe poliſhed conquerors to imagine that they would ſettle on ſo barren and dreary a waſte.

LETTER II.

THAT Selborne was a place of ſome diſtinction and note in the time of the Saxons we can give moſt undoubted proofs. But, as there are few if any accounts of villages before Domeſday, it will be beſt to begin with that venerable record. ‘"Ipſe rex tenet Seleſburne. Eddid regina tenuit, et nunquam geldavit. De iſto manerio dono dedit rex Radfredo preſbytero dimidiam hidam cum eceleſia. Tempore regis Edwardi et poſt, valuit duodecim ſolidos et ſex denarios; modo octo ſolidos et quatuor denarios."’ Here we ſee that Selborne was a royal manor; and that Editha, the queen of Edward the Confeſſor, had been lady of that manor; and was ſucceeded in it by the Conqueror; and that it had a church. Beſide theſe, many circumſtances concur to prove it to have been a Saxon village; ſuch as the name of the place itſelf1, [312] the names of many fields, and ſome familiesk, with a variety of words in huſbandry and common life, ſtill ſubſiſting among the country people.

What probably firſt drew the attention of the Saxons to this ſpot was the beautiful ſpring or fountain called Well-head l, which induced them to build by the banks of that perennial current; for ancient ſettlers loved to reſide by brooks and rivulets, where they could dip for their water without the trouble and expenſe of digging wells and of drawing.

It remains ſtill unſettled among the antiquaries at what time tracts of land were firſt appropriated to the chaſe alone for the amuſement of the ſovereign. Whether our Saxon monarchs had any royal foreſts does not, I believe, appear on record; but the Conſtitutiones de Foreſta of Canute, the Dane, are come down to us. We ſhall not therefore pretend to ſay whether Woolmer-foreſt exiſted as a royal domain before the conqueſt. If it did not, we may ſuppoſe it [313] was laid out by ſome of our earlieſt Norman kings, who were exceedingly attached to the pleaſures of the chaſe, and reſided much at Wincheſter, which lies at a moderate diſtance from this deſtrict. The Plantagenet princes ſeem to have been pleaſed with Woolmer; for tradition ſays that king John reſided juſt upon the verge, at Ward-le-ham, on a regular and remarkable mount, ſtill called King John's Hill and Lodge Hill; and Edward III. had a chapel in his park, or encloſure, at Kingſley l. Humphrey, duke of Glouceſter, and Richard, duke of York, ſay my evidences, were both, in their turns, wardens of Woolmer-foreſt; which ſeems to have ſerved for an appointment for the younger princes of the royal family, as it may again.

I have intentionally mentioned Edward III. and the dukes Humphrey and Richard, before king Edward II. becauſe I have reſerved, for the entertainment of my readers, a pleaſant anecdote reſpecting that prince, with which I ſhall cloſe this letter.

As Edward II. was hunting on Woolmer-foreſt, Morris Ken, of the kitchen, fell from his horſe ſeveral times; at which accidents the king laughed immoderately: and, when the chaſe was over, ordered him twenty ſhillingsm; an enormous ſum for thoſe days! Proper allowances ought to be made for the youth of this monarch, whoſe ſpirits alſo, we may ſuppoſe, were much exhilarated by the ſport of the day: but, at the ſame time, it is reaſonable to remark [314] that, whatever might be the occaſion of Ken's firſt fall, the ſubſequent ones ſeem to have been deſigned. The ſcullion appears to have been an artful fellow, and to have ſeen the king's foible; which furniſhes an early ſpecimen of that his eaſy ſoftneſs and facility of temper, of which the infamous Gaveſton took ſuch advantages, as brought innumerable calamities on the nation, and involved the prince at laſt in misfortunes and ſufferings too deplorable to be mentioned without horror and amazement.

LETTER III.

FROM the ſilence of Domeſday reſpecting churches, it has been ſuppoſed that few villages had any at the time when that record was taken; but Selborne, we ſee, enjoyed the benefit of one: hence we may conclude, that this place was in no abject ſtate even at that very diſtant period. How many fabrics have ſucceeded each other ſince the days of Radfredrus the preſbyter, we cannot pretend to ſay; our buſineſs leads us to a deſcription of the preſent edifice, in which we ſhall be circumſtantial.

Our church, which was dedicated to the Virgin Mary, conſiſts of three ailes, and meaſures fifty-four feet in length by fortyſeven in breadth, being almoſt as broad as it is long. The preſent building has no pretenſions to antiquity; and is, as I ſuppoſe, of no earlier date than the beginning of the reign of Henry VII.

[]

Pl. VI. Pa. 315.

Figure 4. South View of SELBORNE CHURCH.

P Mazell sculp S H Grimm del

Published [...] 1788, [...] by B. White & Son

[315] It is perfectly plain and unadorned, without painted glaſs, carved work, ſculpture, or tracery. But when I ſay it has no claim to antiquity, I would mean to be underſtood of the fabric in general; for the pillars which ſupport the roof are undoubtedly old, being of that low, ſquat, thick order, uſually called Saxon. Theſe, I ſhould imagine, upheld the roof of a former church, which, falling into decay, was rebuilt on thoſe maſſy props, becauſe their ſtrength had preſerved them from the injuries of timen. Upon theſe reſt blunt gothic arches, ſuch as prevailed in the reign abovementioned, and by which, as a criterion, we would prove the date of the building.

At the bottom of the ſouth aile, between the weſt and ſouth doors, ſtands the font, which is deep and capacious, and conſiſts of three maſſy round ſtones, piled one on another, without the leaſt ornament or ſculpture: the cavity at the top is lined with lead, and has a pipe at bottom to convey off the water after the ſacred ceremony is performed.

The eaſt end of the ſouth aile is called the South Chancel, and, till within theſe thirty years, was divided off by old carved gothic framework of timber, having been a private chantry. In this opinion we are more confirmed by obſerving two gothic niches within the ſpace, the one in the eaſt wall and the other in the ſouth, near which there probably ſtood images and altars.

In the middle aile there is nothing remarkable; but I remember when it's beams were hung with garlands in honour of [316] young women of the pariſh, reputed to have died virgins; and recollect to have ſeen the clerk's wife cutting, in white paper, the reſemblances of gloves, and ribbons to be twiſted into knots and roſes, to decorate theſe memorials of chaſtity. In the church of Faringdon, which is the next pariſh, many garlands of this ſort ſtill remain.

The north aile is narrow and low, with a ſloping ceiling, reaching within eight or nine feet of the floor. It had originally a flat roof covered with lead, till, within a century paſt, a churchwarden ſtripping off the lead, in order, as he ſaid, to have it mended, ſold it to a plumber, and ran away with the money. This aile has no door, for an obvious reaſon; becauſe the north-ſide of the church-yard, being ſurrounded by the vicarage-garden, affords no path to that ſide of the church. Nothing can be more irregular than the pews of this church, which are of all dimenſions and heights, being patched up according to the fancy of the owners: but whoever nicely examines them will find that the middle aile had, on each ſide, a regular row of benches of ſolid oak, all alike, with a low back-board to each. Theſe we ſhould not heſitate to ſay are coeval with the preſent church: and eſpecially as it is to be obſerved that, at their ends, they are ornamented with carved blunt gothic niches, exactly correſpondent to the arches of the church, and to a niche in the ſouth wall. The ſouth aile alſo has a row of theſe benches; but ſome are decayed through age, and the reſt much diſguiſed by modern alterations.

At the upper end of this aile, and running out to the north, ſtands a tranſept, known by the name of the North Chancel, meaſuring twenty-one feet from ſouth to north, and nineteen feet from eaſt to weſt: this was intended, no doubt, as a private chantry; and was alſo, till of late, divided off by a gothic framework [317] of timber. In its north wall, under a very blunt gothic arch, lies perhaps the founder of this edifice, which, from the ſhape of its arch, may be deemed no older than the latter end of the reign of Henry VII. The tomb was examined ſome years ago, but contained nothing except the ſcull and thigh-bones of a large tall man, and the bones of a youth or woman, lying in a very irregular manner, without any eſcutcheon or other token to aſcertain the names or rank of the deceaſed. The grave was very ſhallow, and lined with ſtone at the bottom and on the ſides.

From the eaſt wall project four ſtone brackets, which I conclude ſupported images and crucifixes. In the great thick pilaſter, jutting out between this tranſept and the chancel, there is a very ſharp gothic niche, of older date than the preſent chantry or church. But the chief pieces of antiquity are two narrow ſtone coffin-lids, which compoſe part of the floor, and lie from weſt to eaſt, with the very narrow ends eaſtward: theſe belong to remote times; and, if originally placed here, which I doubt, muſt have been part of the pavement of an older tranſept. At preſent there are no coffins under them, whence I conclude they have been removed to this place from ſome part of a ſormer church. One of theſe lids is ſo eaten by time, that no ſculpture can be diſcovered upon it; or, perhaps, it may be the wrong ſide uppermoſt; but on the other, which ſeems to be of ſtone of a cloſer and harder texture, is to be diſcerned a diſcus, with a croſs on it, at the end of a ſtaff or rod, the well-known ſymbol of a Knight-Templar o.

This order was diſtinguiſhed by a red croſs on the left ſhoulder of their cloak, and by this attribute in their hand. Now, if theſe [318] ſtones belonged to Knights Templars, they muſt have lain here many centuries; for this order came into England early in the reign of king Stephen in 1113; and was diſſolved in the time of Edward II. in 1312, having ſubſiſted only one hundred and ninetynine years. Why I ſhould ſuppoſe that Knights Templars were occaſionally buried at this church, will appear in ſome future letter, when we come to treat more particularly concerning the property they poſſeſſed here, and the intercourſe that ſubſiſted between them and the priors of Selborne.

We muſt now proceed to the chancel, properly ſo called, which ſeems to be coeval with the church, and is in the ſame plain unadorned ſtyle, though neatly kept. This room meaſures thirtyone feet in length, and ſixteen feet and an half in breadth, and is wainſcoted all round, as high as to the bottom of the windows. The ſpace for the communion table is raiſed two ſteps above the reſt of the floor, and railed in with oaken baluſters. Here I ſhall ſay ſomewhat of the windows of the chancel in particular, and of the whole fabric in general. They are moſtly of that ſimple and unadorned ſort called Lancet, ſome ſingle, ſome double, and ſome in triplets. At the eaſt end of the chancel are two of a moderate ſize, near each other; and in the north wall two very diſtant ſmall ones, unequal in length and height: and in the ſouth wall are two, one on each ſide of the chancel door, that are broad and ſquat, and of a different order. At the eaſt end of the ſouth aile of the church there is a large lancet-window in a triplet; and two very ſmall, narrow, ſingle ones in the ſouth wall, and a broad ſquat window beſide, and a double lancet one in the weſt end; ſo that the appearance is very irregular. In the north aile are two windows, made ſhorter when the roof was ſloped; and in the north tranſept a large triple window, ſhortened [319] at the time of a repair in 1721; when over it was opened a round one of conſiderable ſize, which affords an agreeable light, and renders that chantry the moſt cheerful part of the edifice.

The church and chancels have all coved roofs, ceiled about the year 1683; before which they were open to the tiles and ſhingles, ſhowing the naked rafters, and threatening the congregation with the fall of a ſpar, or a blow from a piece of looſe mortar.

On the north wall of the chancel is fixed a large oval white marble monument, with the following inſcription; and at the foot of the wall, over the deceaſed, and inſcribed with his name, age, arms, and time of death, lies a large ſlab of black marble:

Prope hunc parietem ſepelitur
GILBERTUS WHITE, SAMSONIS WHITE, de
Oxon. militis filius tertius, Collegii Magdale-
-nenſis ibidem alumnus, & ſocius. Tandem faven-
-te collegio ad hanc eccleſiam promotus; ubi primae-
-vâ morum ſimplicitate, et diffusâ erga omnes bene-
-volentiâ feliciter conſenuit.
Paſtor fidelis, comis, affabilis,
Maritus, et pater amantiſſimus,
A conjuge invicem, et liberis, atque
A parochianis impensé dilectus.
Pauperibus ita beneficus
ut decimam partemcensûs
moribundus
piis uſibus conſecravit.
Meritis demum juxta et annis plenus
ex hac vitâ migravit Feb. 13o.
anno ſalutis 1727/8
AEtatis ſuae 77.
Hoc poſuit Rebecca
Conjux illius maeſtiſſima,
mox ſecutura.

[320] On the ſame wall is newly fixed a ſmall ſquare table-monument of white marble, inſcribed in the following manner.

Sacred to the memory
of the Revd. ANDREW ETTY, B.D.
23 Years Vicar of this pariſh:
In whoſe character
The conjugal, the parental, and the ſacerdotal virtues
were ſo happily combined
as to deſerve the imitation of mankind.
And if in any particular he followed more invariably
the ſteps of his bleſſed Maſter,
It was in his humility.
His pariſhioners,
eſpecially the ſick and neceſſitous,
as long as any traces of his memory ſhall remain,
muſt lament his death.
To perpetuate ſuch an example, this ſtone is erected;
as while living he was a preacher of righteouſneſs,
ſo, by it, he being dead yet ſpeaketh.
He died April 8th. 1784. aged 66 years.

LETTER IV.

[321]

WE have now taken leave of the inſide of the church, and ſhall paſs by a door at the weſt end of the middle aile into the belfry. This room is part of a handſome ſquare embattled tower of fortyfive feet in height, and of much more modern date than the church; but old enough to have needed a thorough repair in 1781, when it was neatly ſtuccoed at a conſiderable expenſe, by a ſet of workmen who were employed on it for the greateſt part of the ſummer. The old bells, three in number, loud and out of tune, were taken down in 1735, and caſt into four; to which Sir Simeon Stuart, the grandfather of the preſent baronet, added a fifth at his own expenſe: and, beſtowing it in the name of his favourite daughter Mrs. Mary Stuart, cauſed it to be caſt with the following motto round it:

"Clara puella dedit, dixitque mihi eſto Maria:
"Illius et laudes nomen ad aſtra ſono."

The day of the arrival of this tuneable peal was obſerved as an high feſtival by the village, and rendered more joyous, by an order from the donor, that the treble-bell ſhould be fixed bottom upward in the ground, and filled with punch, of which all preſent were permitted to partake.

The porch of the church, to the ſouth, is modern, and would not be worthy attention did it not ſhelter a fine ſharp gothic door-way. This is undoubtedly much older than the preſent fabric; and, [322] being found in good preſervation, was worked into the wall, and is the grand entrance into the church: nor are the folding-doors to be paſſed over in ſilence; ſince, from their thick and clumſy ſtructure, and the rude flouriſhed-work of their hinges, they may poſſibly be as ancient as the door-way itſelf.

The whole roof of the ſouth aile, and the ſouth-ſide of the roof of the middle aile, is covered with oaken ſhingles inſtead of tiles, on account of their lightneſs, which favours the ancient and crazy timber-frame. And, indeed, the conſideration of accidents by fire excepted, this ſort of roofing is much more eligible than tiles. For ſhingles well ſeaſoned, and cleft from quartered timber, never warp, nor let in drifting ſnow; nor do they ſhiver with froſt; nor are they liable to be blown off, like tiles; but, when well nailed down, laſt for a long period, as experience has ſhown us in this place, where thoſe that face to the north are known to have endured, untouched, by undoubted tradition for more than a century.

Conſidering the ſize of the church, and the extent of the pariſh, the church-yard is very ſcanty; and eſpecially as all wiſh to be buried on the ſouth-ſide, which is become ſuch a maſs of mortality that no perſon can be there interred without diſturbing or diſplacing the bones of his anceſtors. There is reaſon to ſuppoſe that it once was larger, and extended to what is now the vicarage court and garden; becauſe many human bones have been dug up in thoſe parts ſeveral yards without the preſent limits. At the eaſt end are a few graves; yet none till very lately on the north-ſide but, as two or three families of beſt repute have begun to bury in that quarter, prejudice may wear out by degrees, and their example be followed by the reſt of the neighbourhood.

[]

Pl. VII. Pa. 323.

Figure 5. North View of SELBORNE CHURCH.

S H Grimm del P Mazell sculp

Published [...] 1788, [...] by B. White & Son

[323] In ſpeaking of the church, I have all along talked of the eaſt and weſt-end, as if the chancel ſtood exactly true to thoſe points of the compaſs; but this is by no means the caſe, for the fabric bears ſo much to the north of the eaſt that the four corners of the tower, and not the four ſides, ſtand to the four cardinal points. The beſt method of accounting for this deviation ſeems to be, that the workmen, who probably were employed in the longeſt days, endeavoured to ſet the chancels to the riſing of the ſun.

Cloſe by the church, at the weſt end, ſtands the vicarage-houſe; an old, but roomy and convenient edifice. It faces very agreeably to the morning ſun, and is divided from the village by a neat and cheerful court. According to the manner of old times, the hall was open to the roof; and ſo continued, probably, till the vicars became family-men, and began to want more conveniencies; when they flung a floor acroſs, and, by partitions, divided the ſpace into chambers. In this hall we remember a date, ſome time in the reign of Elizabeth; it was over the door that leads to the ſtairs.

Behind the houſe is a garden of an irregular ſhape, but well laid out; whoſe terrace commands ſo romantic and pictureſque a proſpect, that the firſt maſter in landſcape might contemplate it with pleaſure, and deem it an object well worthy of his pencil.

LETTER V.

[324]

IN the church-yard of this village is a yew-tree, whoſe aſpect beſpeaks it to be of a great age: it ſeems to have ſeen ſeveral centuries, and is probably coeval with the church, and therefore may be deemed an antiquity: the body is ſquat, ſhort, and thick, and meaſures twenty-three feet in the girth, ſupporting an head of ſuitable extent to it's bulk. This is a male tree, which in the ſpring ſheds clouds of duſt, and fills the atmoſphere around with it's farina.

As far as we have been able to obſerve, the males of this ſpecies become much larger than the females; and it has ſo fallen out that moſt of the yew-trees in the church-yards of this neighbourhood are males: but this muſt have been matter of mere accident, ſince men, when they firſt planted yews, little dreamed that there were ſexes in trees.

In a yard, in the midſt of the ſtreet, till very lately grew a middle-ſized female tree of the ſame ſpecies, which commonly bore great crops of berries. By the high winds uſually prevailing about the autumnal equinox, theſe berries, then ripe, were blown down into the road, where the hogs ate them. And it was very remarkable, that, though barrow-hogs and young ſows found no inconvenience from this food, yet milch-ſows often died after ſuch a repaſt: a circumſtance that can be accounted for only by ſuppoſing that the latter, being much exhauſted and hungry, devoured a larger quantity.

[325] While mention is making of the bad effects of yew-berries, it may be proper to remind the unwary that the twigs and leaves of yew, though eaten in a very ſmall quantity, are certain death to horſes and cows, and that in a few minutes. An horſe tied to a yew-hedge, or to a faggot-ſtack of dead yew, ſhall be found dead before the owner can be aware that any danger is at hand: and the writer has been ſeveral times a ſorrowful witneſs to loſſes of this kind among his friends; and in the iſland of Ely had once the mortification to ſee nine young ſteers or bullocks of his own all lying dead in an heap from browzing a little on an hedge of yew in an old garden, into which they had broken in ſnowy weather. Even the clippings of a yew-hedge have deſtroyed a whole dairy of cows when thrown inadvertently into a yard. And yet ſheep and turkies, and, as park-keepers ſay, deer, will crop theſe trees with impunity.

Some intelligent perſons aſſert that the branches of yew, while green, are not noxious; and that they will kill only when dead and withered, by lacerating the ſtomach: but to this aſſertion we cannot by any means aſſent, becauſe, among the number of cattle that we have known fall victims to this deadly food, not one has been found, when it was opened, but had a lump of green yew in it's paunch. True it is, that yew-trees ſtand for twenty years or more in a field, and no bad conſequences enſue: but at ſome time or other cattle, either from wantonneſs when full, or from hunger when empty, (from both which circumſtances we have ſeen them periſh) will be meddling, to their certain deſtruction; the yew ſeems to be a very improper tree for a paſture-field.

Antiquaries ſeem much at a loſs to determine at what period this tree firſt obtained a place in church-yards. A ſtatute paſſed A.D. 1307 and 35 Edward I. the title of which is ‘"Ne rector [326] arbores in cemeterio proſternat."’ Now if it is recollected that we ſeldom ſee any other very large or ancient tree in a church-yard but yews, this ſtatute muſt have principally related to this ſpecies of tree; and conſequently their being planted in church-yards is of much more ancient date than the year 1307.

As to the uſe of theſe trees, poſſibly the more reſpectable pariſhioners were buried under their ſhade before the improper cuſtom was introduced of burying within the body of the church, where the living are to aſſemble. Deborah, Rebekah's nurſeq, was buried under an oak; the moſt honourable place of interment probably next to the cave of Machpelah r, which ſeems to have been appropriated to the remains of the patriarchal family alone.

The farther uſe of yew-trees might be as a ſcreen to churches, by their thick foliage, from the violence of winds; perhaps alſo for the purpoſe of archery, the beſt long bows being made of that material: and we do not hear that they are planted in the church-yards of other parts of Europe, where long bows were not ſo much in uſe. They might alſo be placed as a ſhelter to the congregation aſſembling before the church-doors were opened, and as an emblem of mortality by their funereal appearance. In the ſouth of England every church-yard almoſt has it's tree, and ſome two; but in the north, we underſtand, few are to be found.

The idea of R. C. that the yew-tree afforded it's branches inſtead of palms for the proceſſions on Palm-Sunday, is a good one, and deſerves attention. See Gent. Mag. Vol. L. p. 128.

LETTER VI.

[327]

THE living of Selborne was a very ſmall vicarage; but, being in the patronage of Magdalen-college, in the univerſity of Oxford, that ſociety endowed it with the great tithes of Selborne, more than a century ago: and ſince the year 1758 again with the great tithes of Oakhanger, called Bene's parſonage: ſo that, together, it is become a reſpectable piece of preferment, to which one of the fellows is always preſented. The vicar holds the great tithes, by leaſe, under the college. The great diſadvantage of this living is, that it has not one foot of glebe near homes.

ITS PAYMENTS ARE,

 £.s.d.
King's books821
Yearly tenths016
Yearly procurations for Blackmore and Oakhanger Chap: with acquit:017
Selborne procurations and acquit:090

I am unable to give a complete liſt of the vicars of this pariſh till towards the end of the reign of queen Elizabeth; from which period the regiſters furniſh a regular ſeries.

In Domeſday we find thus—‘"De iſto manerio dono dedit Rex Radfredo preſbytero dimidiam hidam cum eccleſia."’ So that before Domeſday, which was compiled between the years 1081 and 1086, here was an officiating miniſter at this place.

[328] After this, among my documents, I find occaſional mention of a vicar here and there: the firſt is

Roger, inſtituted in 1254.

In 1410 John Lynne was vicar of Selborne.

In 1411 Hugo Tybbe was vicar.

The preſentations to the vicarage of Selborne generally ran in the name of the prior and the convent; but Tybbe was preſented by prior John Wynecheſtre only.

June 29, 1528, William Fiſher, vicar of Selborne, reſigned to Miles Peyrſon.

1594, William White appears to have been vicar to this time. Of this perſon there is nothing remarkable, but that he hath made a regular entry twice in the regiſter of Selborne of the funeral of Thomas Cowper, biſhop of Wincheſter, as if he had been buried at Selborne; yet this learned prelate, who died 1594, was buried at Wincheſter, in the cathedral, near the epiſcopal thronet.

1595, Richard Boughton, vicar.

1596, William Inkforbye, vicar.

May 1606, Thomas Phippes, vicar.

June 1631, Ralph Auſtine, vicar.

July 1632, John Longworth. This unfortunate gentleman, living in the time of Cromwell's uſurpation, was deprived of his preferment for many years, probably becauſe he would not take the league and covenant: for I obſerve that his father-in-law, the Reverend Jethro Beal, rector of Faringdon, which is the next pariſh, enjoyed his benefice during the whole of that unhappy period. Longworth, after he was diſpoſſeſſed, retired to a little tenement about one hundred and fifty yards from the church, where he earned a [329] ſmall pittance by the practice of phyſic. During thoſe diſmal times it was not uncommon for the depoſed clergy to take up a medical character; as was the caſe in particular, I know, with the Reverend Mr. Yalden, rector of Compton, near Guildford, in the county of Surrey. Vicar Longworth uſed frequently to mention to his ſons, who told it to my relations, that, the Sunday after his deprivation, his puritanical ſucceſſor ſtepped into the pulpit with no ſmall petulance and exultation; and began his ſermon from Pſalm xx. 8. ‘"They are brought down and fallen; but we are riſen and ſtand upright."’ This perſon lived to be reſtored in 1660, and continued vicar for eighteen years; but was ſo impoveriſhed by his misfortunes, that he left the vicarage-houſe and premiſes in a very abject and dilapidated ſtate.

July 1678. Richard Byfield, who left eighty pounds by will, the intereſt to be applied to apprentice out poor children: but this money, lent on private ſecurity, was in danger of being loſt, and the bequeſt remained in an unſettled ſtate for near twenty years, till 1700; ſo that little or no advantage was derived from it. About the year 1759 it was again in the utmoſt danger by the failure of a borrower; but, by prudent management, has ſince been raiſed to one hundred pounds ſtock in the three per cents reduced. The truſtees are the vicar and the renters or owners of Temple, Priory, Grange, Blackmore, and Oakhanger-houſe, for the time being. This gentleman ſeemed inclined to have put the vicarial premiſes in a comfortable ſtate; and began, by building a ſolid ſtone wall round the front-court, and another in the lower yard, between that and the neighbouring garden; but was interrupted by death from fulfilling his laudable intentions.

April, 1680, Barnabas Long became vicar.

[330] June 1681. This living was now in ſuch low eſtimation in Magdalen-college that it deſcended to a junior fellow, Gilbert White, M.A. who was inſtituted to it in the thirty-firſt year of his age. At his firſt coming he ceiled the chancel, and alſo floored and wainſcoted the parlour and hall, which before were paved with ſtone, and had naked walls; he enlarged the kitchen and brewhouſe, and dug a cellar and well: he alſo built a large new barn in the lower yard, removed the hovels in the front court, which he laid out in walks and borders; and entirely planned the back garden, before a rude field with a ſtone-pit in the midſt of it. By his will he gave and bequeathed ‘"the ſum of forty pounds to be laid out in the moſt neceſſary repairs of the church; that is, in ſtrengthening and ſecuring ſuch parts as ſeem decaying and dangerous."’ With this ſum two large buttreſſes were erected to ſupport the eaſt end of the ſouth wall of the church; and the gable-end wall of the weſt end of the ſouth aile was new built from the ground.

By his will alſo he gave ‘"One hundred pounds to be laid out on lands; the yearly rents whereof ſhall be employed in teaching the poor children of Selbourn pariſh to read and write, and ſay their prayers and catechiſm, and to ſew and knit:—and be under the direction of his executrix as long as ſhe lives; and, after her, under the direction of ſuch of his children and their iſſue, as ſhall live in or within five miles of the ſaid pariſh: and on failure of any ſuch, then under the direction of the vicar of Selbourn for the time being; but ſtill to the uſes above-named."’ With this ſum was purchaſed, of Thomas Turville, of Hawkeley, in the county of Southampton, yeoman, and Hannah his wife, two cloſes of freehold land, commonly called Collier's, containing, by eſtimation, eleven acres, lying in Hawkeley [331] aforeſaid. Theſe cloſes are let at this time, 1785, on leaſe, at the rate of three pounds by the year.

This vicar alſo gave by will two hundred pounds towards the repairs of the highwaysu in the pariſh of Selborne. That ſum was carefully and judiciouſly laid out in the ſummer of the year 1730, by his ſon John White, who made a ſolid and firm cauſey from Rood-green, all down Honey-lane, to a farm called Oak-woods, where the ſandy ſoil begins. This miry and gulfy lane was choſen as worthy of repair, becauſe it leads to the foreſt, and thence through the Holt to the town of Farnham in Surrey, the only market in thoſe days for men who had wheat to ſell in this neighbourhood. This cauſey was ſo deeply bedded with ſtone, ſo properly raiſed above the level of the ſoil, and ſo well drained, that it has, in ſome degree, withſtood fifty-four years of neglect and abuſe; and might, with moderate attention, be rendered a ſolid and comfortable road. The ſpace from Rood-green to Oak-woods meaſures about three quarters of a mile.

In 1727, William Henry Cane, B.D. became vicar; and, among ſeveral alterations and repairs, new-built the back front of the vicarage-houſe.

On February 1, 1740, Duncombe Briſtowe, D.D. was inſtituted to this living. What benefactions this vicar beſtowed on the pariſh will be beſt explained by the following paſſages from his will:—‘"Item, I hereby give and bequeath to the miniſter and churchwardens of the pariſh of Selbourn, in the county of Southampton, a mahogany table, which I have ordered to be made for the celebration of the Holy Communion; and alſo the ſum of [332] thirty pounds, in truſt, to be applied in manner following; that is, ten pounds towards the charge of erecting a gallery at the weſt end of the church; and ten pounds to be laid out for cloathing, and ſuch like neceſſaries, among the poor (and eſpecially among the ancient and infirm) of the ſaid pariſh: and the remaining ten pounds to be diſtributed in bread, at twenty ſhillings a week, at the diſcretion of John White, eſq. or any of his family, who ſhall be reſident in the ſaid pariſh."’

On November 12, 1758, Andrew Etty, B.D. became vicar. Among many uſeful repairs he new-roofed the body of the vicarage-houſe; and wainſcoted, up to the bottom of the windows, the whole of the chancel; to the neatneſs and decency of which he always paid the moſt exact attention.

On September 25, 1784, Chriſtopher Taylor, B.D. was inducted into the vicarage of Selborne.

LETTER VII.

[333]

I SHALL now proceed to the Priory, which is undoubtedly the moſt intereſting part of our hiſtory.

The Priory of Selborne was founded by Peter de la Roche, or de Rupibus x, one of thoſe accompliſhed foreigners that reſorted to the court of king John, where they were uſually careſſed, and met with a more favourable reception than ought, in prudence, to have been ſhown by any monarch to ſtrangers. This adventurer was a Poictevin by birth, had been bred to arms in his youth, and diſtinguiſhed by knighthood. Hiſtorians all agree not to ſpeak very favourably of this remarkable man; they allow that he was poſſeſſed of courage and fine abilities, but then they charge him with arbitrary principles, and violent conduct. By his inſinuating manners he ſoon roſe high in the favour of John; and in 1205, early in the reign of that prince, was appointed biſhop of Wincheſter. In 1214 he became lord chief juſticiary of England, the firſt magiſtrate in the ſtate, and a kind of viceroy, on whom depended all the civil affairs in the kingdom. After the death of John, and during the minority of his ſon Henry, this prelate took upon him the entire management of the realm, and was ſoon appointed protector of the king and kingdom.

[334] The barons ſaw with indignation a ſtranger poſſeſſed of all the power and influence, to part of which they thought they had a claim; they therefore entered into an aſſociation againſt him, and determined to wreſt ſome of that authority from him which he had ſo unreaſonably uſurped. The biſhop diſcerned the ſtorm at a diſtance; and, prudently reſolving to give way to that torrent of envy which he knew not how to withſtand, withdrew quietly to the Holy Land, where he reſided ſome time.

At this juncture a very ſmall part of Paleſtine remained in the hands of the Chriſtians: they had been by Saladine diſpoſſeſſed of Jeruſalem, and all the internal parts, near forty years before; and with difficulty maintained ſome maritime towns and garriſons: yet the buſy and enterpriſing ſpirit of de Rupibus could not be at reſt; he diſtinguiſhed himſelf by the ſplendour and magnificence of his expenſes, and amuſed his mind by ſtrengthening fortreſſes and caſtles, and by removing and endowing of churches. Before his expedition to the eaſt he had ſignalized himſelf as a founder of convents, and as a benefactor to hoſpitals and monaſteries.

In the year 1231 he returned again to England; and the very next year, in 1232, began to build and endow the PRIORY of SELBORNE. As this great work followed ſo cloſe upon his return, it is not improbable that it was the reſult of a vow made during his voyage; and eſpecially as it was dedicated to the Virgin Mary. Why the biſhop made choice of Selborne for the ſcene of his munificence can never be determined now: it can only be ſaid that the pariſh was in his dioceſe, and lay almoſt midway between Wincheſter and Farnham, or South Waltham and Farnham; from either of which places he could without much trouble overlook his workmen, and obſerve what progreſs they made; and that the ſituation was retired, with a ſtream running by it, and [335] ſequeſtered from the world, amidſt woods and meadows, and ſo far proper for the ſite of a religious houſey.

The firſt perſon with whom the founder treated about the purchaſe of land was Jacobus de Achangre, or Ochangre, a gentleman of property who reſided at that hamlet; and, as appears, at the houſe now called Oakhanger-houſe. With him he agreed for a croft, or little cloſe of land, known by the name of La liega, or La lyge, which was to be the immediate ſite of the Priory.

De Achangre alſo accommodated the biſhop at the ſame inſtant with three more adjoining crofts, which for a time was all the footing that this inſtitution obtained in the pariſh. The ſeller in the conveyance ſays ‘"Warantizabimus, defendemus, et aequietabimus contra omnes gentes;"’ viz. ‘"We will warrant the thing ſold againſt all claims from any quarter."’ In modern conveyancing this would be termed a covenant for further aſſurance. Afterwards is added—‘"Pro hac autem donacione, &c. dedit mihi pred. Epiſcopus ſexdecem marcas argenti in Gerſumam:"’ i. e. ‘"the biſhop gave me ſixteen ſilver marks as a conſideration for the thing purchaſed."’

[336] As the grant from Jac. de Achangre was without datez, and the next is circumſtanced in the ſame manner, we cannot ſay exactly what interval there was between the two purchaſes; but we find that Jacobus de Nortun, a neighbouring gentleman, alſo ſoon ſold to the biſhop of Wineheſter ſome adjoining grounds, through which our ſtream paſſes, that the priory might be accommodated with a mill, which was a common neceſſary appendage to every manor: he alſo allowed acceſs to theſe lands by a road for carts and waggons.—‘"Jacobus de Nortun concedit Petro Winton epiſcopo totum curſum aque que deſcèndit de Molendino de Durton uſ (que) ad boſcum Will, Mauduit, et croftam terre vocat: Edriche croft, cum extenſione ejuſdem et abuttamentis; ad fundandam domum religioſam de ordine Sti. Auguſtini. Concedit etiam viam ad carros, et caretas,"’ &c. This vale, down which runs the brook, is now called the Long Lithe, or Lythe. Bating the following particular expreſſion, this grant runs much in the ſtyle of the former; ‘"Dedit mihi epiſcopus predictus triginta quinque marcas argenti ad me acquietandum verſus Judaeos."’—that is, ‘"the biſhop advanced me thirty-five marks of ſilver to pay my debts to the jews, who were then the only lenders of money."’

Finding himſelf ſtill ſtreightened for room, the founder applied to his royal maſter, Henry, who was graciouſly pleaſed to beſtow certain lands in the manor at Selborne on the new priory of his favourite miniſter. Theſe grounds had been the property of Stephen de Lucy; and, abutting upon the narrow limits of the convent, became a very commodious and agreeable acquiſition. This grant, I find, was made on March the 9th, in the eighteenth year of Henry, viz. 1234, being two years after the foundation of the [337] monaſtery. The royal donor beſtowed his favour with a good grace, by adding to it almoſt every immunity and privilege that could have been ſpecified in the law-language of the times.—‘"Quare volumus prior, &c. habeant totam terram, &c. cum omnibus libertatibus in boſco et plano, in viis et ſemitis, pratis et paſcuis; aquis et piſcariis; infra burgum, et extra burgum, cum ſoka et ſaca, Thol et Them, Infangenethef et Utfangenethef, et hamſocne et blodwite, et pecunia que dari ſolet pro murdro et forſtal, et flemeneſtrick, et cum quietancia de omni ſcotto et geldo, et de omnibus auxiliis regum, vicecomitum, et omn: miniſtralium ſuorum; et hidagio et exercitibus, et ſcutagiis, et tallagiis, et ſhiris et hundredis, et placitis et querelis, et warda et wardpeny, et opibus caſtellorum et pontium, et clauſuris parcorum, et omni carcio et ſumagio, et domor: regal: edificatione, et omnimoda reparatione, et cum omnibus aliis libertatibus."’ This grant was made out by Richard biſhop of Chicheſter, then chancellor, at the town of Northampton, before the lord chief juſticiary, who was the founder himſelf.

The charter of foundation of the Priory, dated 1233, comes next in order to be conſidered; but being of ſome length, I ſhall not interrupt my narrative by placing it here; and therefore refer the reader to the Appendix, No I. This my copy, taken from the original, I have compared with Dugdale's copy, and find that they perfectly agree; except that in the latter the preamble and the names of the witneſſes are omitted. Yet I think it proper to quote a paſſage from this charter—‘"Et ipſa domus religioſa a cujuſlibet alterius domûs religioſae ſubjectione libera permaneat, et in omnibus abſoluta"’—to ſhew how much Dugdale was miſtaken when he inſerted Selborne among the alien priories; forgetting that this diſpoſition of the convent contradicted the grant that he had [338] publiſhed. In the Monaſticon Anglicanum, in Engliſh, p. 119, is part of his catalogue of alien priories, ſuppreſſed 2 Henry V. viz. 1414, where may be ſeen as follows,

  • S.
  • Sele, Suſſex.
  • SELEBURN.
  • Shirburn.

This appeared to me from the firſt to have been an overſight, before I had ſeen my authentic evidences. For priories alien, a few conventual ones excepted, were little better than granges to foreign abbies; and their priors little more than bailiffs, removeable at will: whereas the priory of Selborne poſſeſſed the valuable eſtates and manors of Selborne, Achangre, Norton, Brompden, Baſſinges, Baſingſtoke, and Natele; and the prior challenged the right of Pillory, Thurcet, and Fureas, and every manerial privilege.

I find next a grant from Jo. de Venur, or Venuz, to the prior of Selborne‘"de tota mora [a moor or bog] ubi Beme oritur, uſque ad campum vivarii, et de prato voc. Sydenmeade cum abutt: et de curſu aque molendini."’ And alſo a grant in reverſion ‘"unius virgate terre,"’ [a yard land] in Aehangre at the death of Richard Actedene his ſiſter's huſband, who had no child. He was to preſent a pair of gloves of one penny value to the prior and canons, to be given annually by the ſaid Richard; and to quit all claim to the ſaid lands in reverſion, provided the prior and canons would engage annually to pay to the king, through the hands of his bailiffs of Aulton, ten ſhillings at four quarterly payments, ‘"pro omnibus ſerviciis, conſuetudinibus, exactionibus, et demandis."’

[339] This Jo. de Venur was a man of property at Oakhanger, and lived probably at the ſpot now called Chapel-farm. The grant bears date the 17th year of the reign of Henry III. [viz. 1233.]

It would be tedious to enumerate every little grant for lands or tenements that might be produced from my vouchers. I ſhall therefore paſs over all ſuch for the preſent, and conclude this letter with a remark that muſt ſtrike every thinking perſon with ſome degree of wonder. No ſooner had a monaſtic inſtitution got a footing, but the neighbourhood began to be touched with a ſecret and religious awe. Every perſon round was deſirous to promote ſo good a work; and either by ſale, by grant, or by gift in reverſion, was ambitious of appearing a benefactor. They who had not lands to ſpare gave roads to accommodate the infant foundation. The religious were not backward in keeping up this pious propenſity, which they obſerved ſo readily influenced the breaſts of men. Thus did the more opulent monaſteries add houſe to houſe, and field to field; and by degrees manor to manor: till at laſt ‘"there was no place left;"’ but every diſtrict around became appropriated to the purpoſes of their founders, and every precinct was drawn into the vortex.

LETTER VIII.

[340]

OUR forefathers in this village were no doubt as buſy and buſtling, and as important, as ourſelves: yet have their names and tranſactions been forgotten from century to century, and have ſunk into oblivion; nor has this happened only to the vulgar, but even to men remarkable and famous in their generation. I was led into this train of thinking by finding in my vouchers that Sir Adam Gurdon was an inhabitant of Selborne, and a man of the firſt rank and property in the pariſh. By Sir Adam Gurdon I would be underſtood to mean that leading and accompliſhed malecontent in the Mountfort faction, who diſtinguiſhed himſelf by his daring conduct in the reign of Henry III. The firſt that we hear of this perſon in my papers is, that with two others he was bailiff of Alton before the ſixteenth of Henry III. viz. about 1231, and then not knighted. Who Gurdon was, and whence he came, does not appear: yet there is reaſon to ſuſpect that he was originally a mere ſoldier of fortune, who had raiſed himſelf by marrying women of property. The name of Gurdon does not ſeem to be known in the ſouth; but there is a name ſo like it in an adjoining kingdom, and which belongs to two or three noble families, that it is probable this remarkable perſon was a North Briton; and the more ſo, ſince the Chriſtian name of Adam is a diſtinguiſhed one to this day among the family of the Gordons.—But, be this as it may, Sir Adam Gurdon has been noticed by all the writers of Engliſh hiſtory for his bold diſpoſition and diſaffected [341] ſpirit, in that he not only figured during the ſucceſsful rebellion of Leiceſter, but kept up the war after the defeat and death of that baron's entrenching himſelf in the woods of Hampſhire, towards the town of Farnham. After the battle of Eveſham, in which Mountfort fell, in the year 1265, Gurdon might not think it ſafe to return to his houſe for fear of a ſurpriſe; but cautiouſly fortified himſelf amidſt the foreſts and woodlands with which he was ſo well acquainted. Prince Edward, deſirous of putting an end to the troubles which had ſo long haraſſed the kingdom, purſued the arch-rebel into his faſtneſſes; attacked his camp; leaped over the entrenchments; and, ſingling out Gurdon, ran him down, wounded him, and took him priſonera.

There is not perhaps in all hiſtory a more remarkable inſtance of command of temper, and magnanimity, than this before us: that a young prince, in the moment of victory, when he had the fell adverſary of the crown and royal family at his mercy, ſhould be able to withhold his hand from that vengeance which the vanquiſhed ſo well deſerved. A cowardly diſpoſition would have been blinded by reſentment: but this gallant heir-apparent ſaw at once a method of converting a moſt deſperate foe into a laſting friend. He raiſed the fallen veteran from the ground, he pardoned him, he admitted him into his confidence, and introduced him to the queen, then lying at Guildford, that very eveninga. This unmerited and unexpected lenity melted the heart of the rugged Gurdon at once; he became in an inſtant a loyal and uſeful ſubject, truſted and employed in matters of moment by Edward when king, and confided in till the day of his death.

LETTER IX.

[342]

IT has been hinted in a former letter that Sir Adam Gurdon had availed himſelf by marrying women of property. By my evidences it appears that he had three wives, and probably in the following order: Conſtantia, Ameria, and Agnes. The firſt of theſe ladies, who was the companion of his middle life, ſeems to have been a perſon of conſiderable fortune, which ſhe inherited from Thomas Makerel, a gentleman of Selborne, who was either her father or uncle. The ſecond, Ameria, calls herſelf the quondam wife of Sir Adam, ‘"quae fui uxor,"’ &c. and talks of her ſons under age. Now Gurdon had no ſon: and beſide Agnes in another document ſays, ‘"Ego Agnes quondam uxor Domini Adae Gurdon in pura et ligea viduitate mea:"’ but Gurdon could not leave two widows; and therefore it ſeems probable that he had been divorced from Ameria, who afterwards married, and had ſons. By Agnes Sir Adam had a daughter Johanna, who was his heireſs, to whom Agnes in her life-time ſurrendered part of her jointure:—he had alſo a baſtard ſon.

Sir Adam ſeems to have inhabited the houſe now called Temple, lying about two miles eaſt of the church, which had been the property of Thomas Makerel.

In the year 1262 he petitioned the prior of Selborne in his own name, and that of his wife Conſtantia only, for leave to build him an oratory in his manor-houſe, ‘"in curia ſua."’ Licenſes of this ſort were frequently obtained by men of fortune and rank from the biſhop of the dioceſe, the archbiſhop, and ſometimes, as I have

[]

Pl. VIII. Pa. 343.

Figure 6. TEMPLE, in the Parish of SELBORNE.

S. H. Grimm del. D. Lerpiniere sculp.

Published [...] 1788, [...] by B White & Son.

[343] ſeen inſtances, from the pope; not only for convenience-ſake, and on account of diſtance, and the badneſs of the roads, but as a matter of ſtate and diſtinction. Why the owner ſhould apply to the prior, in preference to the biſhop of the dioceſe, and how the former became competent to ſuch a grant, I cannot ſay; but that the priors of Selborne did take that privilege is plain, becauſe ſome years afterward, in 1280, Prior Richard granted to Henry Waterford and his wife Nicholaa a licenſe to build an oratory in their courthouſe, ‘"curia fua de Waterford,"’ in which they might celebrate divine ſervice, ſaving the rights of the mother church of Baſynges. Yet all the while the prior of Selborne grants with ſuch reſerve and caution, as if in doubt of his power, and leaves Gurdon and his lady anſwerable in future to the biſhop, or his ordinary, or to the vicar for the time being, in caſe they ſhould infringe the rights of the mother church of Selborne.

The manor-houſe called Temple is at preſent a ſingle building, running in length from ſouth to north, and has been occupied as a common farm houſe from time immemorial. The ſouth end is modern, and conſiſts of a brew-houſe, and then a kitchen. The middle part is an hall twenty-ſeven feet in length, and nineteen feet in breadth; and has been formerly open to the top; but there is now a floor above it, and alſo a chimney in the weſtern wall. The roofing conſiſts of ſtrong maſſive rafter-work ornamented with carved roſes. I have often looked for the lamb and flag, the arms of the knights templars, without ſucceſs; but in one corner found a fox with a gooſe on his back, ſo coarſely executed, that it required ſome attention to make out the device.

Beyond the hall to the north is a ſmall parlour with a vaſt heavy ſtone chimney-piece; and, at the end of all, the chapel or oratory, whoſe maſſive thick walls and narrow windows at once beſpeak [344] great antiquity. This room is only ſixteen feet by ſixteen feet eight inches; and full ſeventeen feet nine inches in height. The ceiling is formed of vaſt joiſts, placed only five or ſix inches apart. Modern delicacy would not much approve of ſuch a place of worſhip: for it has at preſent much more the appearance of a dungeon than of a room fit for the reception of people of condition. For the outſide I refer the reader to the plate, in which Mr. Grimm has repreſented it with his uſual accuracy. The field on which this oratory abuts is ſtill called Chapel-field. The ſituation of this houſe is very particular, for it ſtands upon the immediate verge of a ſteep abrupt hill.

Not many years ſince this place was uſed for an hop-kiln, and was divided into two ſtories by a loft, part of which remains at preſent, and makes it convenient for peat and turf, with which it is ſtowed.

[]

Pl. IX. Pa. 345.

Figure 7. The PLEYSTOW, vulg: the PLESTOR

[...] sculp

Published [...] 1788, [...] by B White & Son

LETTER X.

[345]

THE Priory at times was much obliged to Gurdon and his family. As Sir Adam began to advance in years he found his mind influenced by the prevailing opinion of the reaſonableneſs and efficacy of prayers for the dead; and, therefore, in conjunction with his wife Conſtantia, in the year 1271, granted to the prior and convent of Selborne all his right and claim to a certain place, placea, called La Pleyſtow, in the village aforeſaid, ‘"in liberam, puram, et perpetuam elemoſinam."’ This Pleyſtow b, locus ludorum, or play-place, is a level area near the church of about forty-four yards by thirty-ſix, and is known now by the name of the Pleſtor c.

It continues ſtill, as it was in old times, to be the ſcene of recreation for the youths and children of the neighbourhood; and impreſſes an idea on the mind that this village, even in Saxon times, could not be the moſt abject of places, when the inhabitants thought proper to aſign ſo ſpacious a ſpot for the ſports and amuſements of it's young peopled.

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[...]
[345]
[...]

[346] As ſoon as the prior became poſſeſſed of this piece of ground, he procured a charter for a market e from king Henry III. and began to erect houſes and ſtalls, "ſeldas," around it. From this period Selborne became a market town: but how long it enjoyed that privilege does not appear. At the ſame time Gurdon reſerved to himſelf, and his heirs, a way through the ſaid Pleſtor to a tenement and ſome crofts at the upper end, abutting on the ſouth corner of the church-yard. This was, in old days, the manerial houſe of the ſtreet manor, though now a poor cottage; and is known at preſent by the modern name of Elliot's. Sir Adam alſo did, for the health of his own ſoul, and that of his wife Conſtantia, their predeceſſors and ſucceſſors, grant to the prior and canons quiet poſſeſſion of all the tenements and gardens, "curtillagia," which they had built and laid out on the lands in Selborne, on which he and his vaſſals, "homines," had undoubted right of common: and moreover did grant to the convent the full privilege of that right of common; and empowered the religious to build tenements and make gardens along the king's highway in the village of Selborne.

From circumſtances put together it appears that the above were the firſt grants obtained by the Priory in the village of Selborne, after it had ſubſiſted about thirty-nine years: moreover they explain the nature of the mixed manor ſtill remaining in and about the village, where one field or tenement ſhall belong to Magdalencollege [347] college in the univerſity of Oxford, and the next to Norton Powlet, eſq. of Rotherfield houſe; and ſo down the whole ſtreet. The caſe was, that the whole was once the property of Gurdon, till he made his grants to the convent; ſince which ſome belongs to the ſucceſſors of Gurdon in the manor, and ſome to the college; and this is the occaſion of the ſtrange jumble of property. It is remarkable that the tenement and crofts which Sir Adam reſerved at the time of granting the Pleſtor ſhould ſtill remain a part of the Gurdon-manor, though ſo deſirable an addition to the vicarage that is not as yet poſſeſſed of one inch of glebe at home: but of late, viz. in January 1785, Magdalen-college purchaſed that little eſtate, which is lifeholding, in reverſion, for the generous purpoſe of beſtowing it, and it's lands, being twelve acres (three of which abut on the church-yard and vicarage-garden) as an improvement hereafter to the living, and an eligible advantage to future incumbents.

The year after Gurdon had beſtowed the Pleſtor on the Priory, viz. in 1272, Henry III. king of England died, and was ſucceeded by his ſon Edward. This magnanimous prince continued his regard for Sir Adam, whom he eſteemed as a brave man, and made him warden, "cuſtos," of the foreſt of Wolmer f. Though little emolument [348] might hang to this appointment, yet are there reaſons why it might be highly acceptable; and, in a few reigns after, it was given to princes of the bloodg. In old days gentry reſided more at home on their eſtates, and, having fewer reſources of elegant in-door amuſement, ſpent moſt of their leiſure hours in the field [349] and the pleaſures of the chaſe. A large domain, therefore, at little more than a mile diſtance, and well ſtocked with game, muſt have been a very eligible acquiſition, affording him influence as well as entertainment; and eſpecially as the manerial houſe of Temple, by its exalted ſituation, could command a view of near two-thirds of the foreſt.

That Gurdon, who had lived ſome years the life of an outlaw, and at the head of an army of inſurgents, was, for a conſiderable time, in high rebellion againſt his ſovereign, ſhould have been guilty of ſome outrages, and ſhould have committed ſome depredations, is by no means matter of wonder. Accordingly we find a diſtringas againſt him, ordering him to reſtore to the biſhop of Wincheſter ſome of the temporalities of that ſee, which he had taken by violence and detained; viz. ſome lands in Hocheleye, and a millh. By a breve, or writ, from the king he is alſo enjoined to readmit the biſhop of Wincheſter, and his tenants of the pariſh and town of Farnham, to paſture their horſes, and other larger cattle, "averia," in the foreſt of Wolmer, as had been the uſage from time immemorial. This writ is dated in the tenth year of the reign of Edward, viz. 1282.

All the king's writs directed to Gurdon are addreſſed in the following manner: ‘"Edwardus, Dei gratia, &c. dilecto et fideli ſuo Ade Gurdon ſalutem;"’ and again, ‘"Cuſtodi foreſte ſue de Wolvemere."’

In the year 1293 a quarrel between the crews of an Engliſh and a Norman ſhip, about ſome trifle, brought on by degrees ſuch ſerious conſequences, that in 1295 a war broke out between the [350] two nations. The French king, Philip the Hardy, gained ſome advantages in Gaſcony; and, not content with thoſe, threatened England with an invaſion, and, by a ſudden attempt, took and burnt Dover.

Upon this emergency Edward ſent a writ to Gurdon, ordering him and four others to enliſt three thouſand ſoldiers in the counties of Surrey, Dorſet, and Wiltſhire, able-bodied men, ‘"tam ſagittare quam baliſtare potentes;"’ and to ſee that they were marched, by the feaſt of All Saints, to Winchelſea, there to be embarked aboard the king's tranſports.

The occaſion of this armament appears alſo from a ſummons to the biſhop of Wincheſter to parliament, part of which I ſhall tranſcribe on account of the inſolent menace which is ſaid therein to have been denounced againſt the Engliſh language:—‘"qualiter rex Franciae de terra noſtra Gaſcon nos fraudulenter et cauteloſe decepit, eam nobis nequiter detinendo . . . vero predictis fraude et nequitia non contentus, ad expugnationem regni noſtri claſſe maxima et bellatorum copioſa multitudine congregatis, cum quibus regnum noſtrum et regni ejuſdem incolas hoſtiliter jam invaſurus, linguam Anglicam, ſi concepte iniquitatis propoſito deteſtabili poteſtas correſpondeat, quod Deus avertat, omnino de terra delere proponit."’ Dated 30th September, in the year of king Edward's reign xxiiij.

The above are the laſt traces that I can diſcover of Gurdon's appearing and acting in public. The firſt notice that my evidences give of him is, that, in 1232, being the 16th of Henry III. he was the king's bailiff, with others, for the town of Alton. Now, [351] from 1232 to 1295 is a ſpace of ſixty-three years; a long period for one man to be employed in active life! Should any one doubt whether all theſe particulars can relate to one and the ſame perſon, I ſhould wiſh him to attend to the following reaſons why they might. In the firſt place, the documents from the priory mention but one Sir Adam Gurdon, who had no ſon lawfully begotten: and in the next, we are to recollect that he muſt have probably been a man of uncommon vigour both of mind and body; ſince no one, unſupported by ſuch accompliſhments, could have engaged in ſuch adventures, or could have borne up againſt the difficulties which he ſometimes muſt have encountered: and, moreover, we have modern inſtances of perſons that have maintained their abilities for near that period.

Were we to ſuppoſe Gurdon to be only twenty years of age in 1232, in 1295 he would be eighty-three; after which advanced period it could not be expected that he ſhould live long. From the ſilence, therefore, of my evidences it ſeems probable that this extraordinary perſon finiſhed his life in peace, not long after, at his manſion of Temple. Gurdon's ſeal had for its device—a man, with an helmet on his head, drawing a croſs-bow; the legend, ‘"Sigillum Ade de Gurdon;"’ his arms were, ‘"Goulis, iii floures argent iſſant de teſtes de leopardsk."’

If the ſtout and unſubmitting ſpirit of Gurdon could be ſo much influenced by the belief and ſuperſtition of the times, much more might the hearts of his ladies and daughter. And accordingly we find that Ameria, by the conſent and advice of her ſons, though ſaid to be all under age, makes a grant for ever of ſome lands [352] down by the ſtream at Durton; and alſo of her right of the common of Durton itſelfl. Johanna, the daughter and heireſs of Sir Adam, was married, I find, to Richard Achard; ſhe alſo grants to the prior and convent lands and tenements in the village of Selborne, which her father obtained from Thomas Makerel; and alſo all her goods and chattels in Selborne for the conſideration of two hundred pounds ſterling. This laſt buſineſs was tranſacted in the firſt year of Edward II. viz. 1307. It has been obſerved before that Gurdon had a natural ſon: this perſon was called by the name of John Daſtard, alias Waſtard, but more probably Baſtard; ſince baſtardy in thoſe days was not eſteemed any diſgrace, though daſtardy was eſteemed the greateſt. He was married to Gunnorie Duncun; and had a tenement and ſome land granted him in Selborne by his ſiſter Johanna.

LETTER XI.

[353]

THE Knights Templars m, who have been mentioned in a former letter, had conſiderable property in Selborne; and alſo a preceptory at Sudington, now called Southington, a hamlet lying one mile to [354] the eaſt of the village. Biſhop Tanner mentions only two ſuch houſes of the Templars in all the county of Southampton, viz. Godeſfield, founded by Henry de Blois, biſhop of Wincheſter, and South Badeiſley, a preceptory of the Knights Templars, and afterwards of St. John of Jeruſalem, valued at one hundred and eighteen pounds ſixteen ſhillings and ſeven pence per annum. Here then was a preceptory unnoticed by antiquaries, between the village and Temple. Whatever the edifice of the preceptory might have been, it has long ſince been dilapidated; and the whole hamlet contains now only one mean farm-houſe, though there were two in the memory of man.

It has been uſual for the religious of different orders to fall into great diſſenſions, and eſpecially when they were near neighbours. Inſtances of this ſort we have heard of between the monks of [355] Canterbury; and again between the old abbey of St. Swythun, and the comparatively new minſter of Hyde in the city of Wincheſter n. Theſe feuds aroſe probably from different orders being crowded within the narrow limits of a city, or garriſon-town, where every inch of ground was precious, and an object of contention. But with us, as far as my evidences extend, and while Robert Saunford was maſter o, and Richard Carpenter was preceptor, the Templars and the Priors lived in an intercourſe of mutual good offices.

My papers mention three tranſactions, the exact time of which cannot be aſcertained, becauſe they fell out before dates were [356] uſually inſerted; though probably they happened about the middle of the thirteenth century, not long after Saunford became maſter. The firſt of theſe is that the Templars ſhall pay to the priory of Selborne, annually, the ſum of ten ſhillings at two half yearly payments from their chamber, "camera," at Sudington, ‘"per manum preceptoris, vel ballivi noſtri, qui pro tempore fuerit ibidem,"’ till they can provide the prior and canons with an equivalent in lands or rents within four or five miles of the ſaid convent. It is alſo further agreed that, if the Templars ſhall be in arrears for one year, that then the prior ſhall be empowered to diſtrain upon their live ſtock in Bradeſeth. The next matter was a grant from Robert de Saunford to the priory for ever, of a good and ſufficient road, "cheminum," capable of admitting carriages, and proper for the drift of their larger cattle, from the way which extends from Sudington towards Blakemere, on to the lands which the convent poſſeſſes in Bradeſeth.

The third tranſaction (though for want of dates we cannot ſay which happened firſt and which laſt) was a grant from Robert Samford to the priory of a tenement and its appurtenances in the village of Selborne, given to the Templars by Americus de Vaſci p. This property, by the manner of deſcribing it,—‘"totum tenementum cum omnibus pertinentiis ſuis, ſcilicet in terris, & hominibus, in pratis & paſcuis, & nemoribus,"’ &c. ſeems to have been no inconſiderable purchaſe, and was ſold for two hundred marks ſterling, to be applied for the buying of more land for the ſupport of the holy war.

[357] Prior John is mentioned as the perſon to whom Vaſci's land is conveyed. But in Willis's liſt there is no prior John till 1339, ſeveral years after the diſſolution of the order of the Templars in 1312; ſo that unleſs Willis is wrong, and has omitted a prior John ſince 1262, (that being the date of his firſt prior) theſe tranſactions muſt have fallen out before that date.

I find not the leaſt traces of any concerns between Gurdon and the Knights Templars; but probably after his death his daughter Johanna might have, and might beſtow, Temple on that order in ſupport of the holy land: and, moreover, ſhe ſeems to have been moving from Selborne when ſhe ſold her goods and chattels to the priory, as mentioned above.

Temple no doubt did belong to the knights, as may be aſſerted, not only from it's name, but alſo from another corroborating circumſtance of it's being ſtill a manor tithe-free; ‘"for, by virtue of their order,"’ ſays Dr. Blackſtone, ‘"the lands of the Knights Templars were privileged by the pope with a diſcharge from tithes."’

Antiquaries have been much puzzled about the terms preceptores and preceptorium, not being able to determine what officer or ediſice was meant. But perhaps all the while the paſſage quoted above from one of my papers ‘"per manum preceptoris vel ballivi noſtri, qui pro tempore fuerit ibidem,"’ may help to explain the difficulty. For if it be allowed here that preceptor and ballivus are ſynonymous words, then the brother who took on him that office reſided in the houſe of the Templars at Sudington, a preceptory; where he was their preceptor, ſuperintended their affairs, received their money; and, as in the inſtance there mentioned, paid from their chamber, "camera," as directed: ſo that, according to this [358] explanation, a preceptor was no other than a ſteward, and a preceptorium was his reſidence. I am well aware that, according to ſtrict Latin, the vel ſhould have been ſeu or five, and the order of the words ‘"preceptoris noſtri, vel ballivi, qui"’—et ‘"ibidem"’ ſhould have been ibi; ibidem neceſſarily having reference to two or more perſons: but it will hardly be thought fair to apply the niceties of claſſic rules to the Latinity of the thirteenth century, the writers of which ſeem to have aimed at nothing farther than to render themſelves intelligible.

There is another remark that we have made, which, I think, corroborates what has been advanced; and that is, that Richard Carpenter, preceptor of Sudington, at the time of the tranſactions between the Templars and Selborne Priory, did always ſign laſt as a witneſs in the three deeds: he calls himſelf frater, it is true, among many other brothers, but ſubſcribes with a kind of deference, as if, for the time being, his office rendered him an inferior in the communityq.

LETTER XII.

[359]

THE ladies and daughter of Sir Adam Gurdon were not the only benefactreſſes to the Priory of Selborne; for, in the year 1281, Ela Longſpee obtained maſſes to be performed for her ſoul's health; and the prior entered into an engagement that one of the convent ſhould every day ſay a ſpecial maſs for ever for the ſaid benefactreſs, whether living or dead. She alſo engaged within five years to pay to the ſaid convent one hundred marks of ſilver for the ſupport of a chantry and chantry-chaplain, who ſhould perform his maſſes daily in the pariſh church of Selborne r. In the eaſt end of the ſouth aile there are two ſharp-pointed gothic niches; one of theſe probably was the place under which theſe maſſes were performed; and there is the more reaſon to ſuppoſe as much, becauſe, till within theſe thirty years, this ſpace was fenced off with gothic wooden railing, and was known by the name of the ſouth chancels.

The ſolicitude expreſſed by the donor plainly ſhews her piety and firm perſuaſion of the efficacy of prayers for the dead; for [360] ſhe ſeems to have made every proviſion for the payment of the ſum ſtipulated within the appointed time; and to have felt much anxiety leſt her death, or the neglect of her executors or aſſigns, might fruſtrate her intentions.—‘"Et ſi contingat me in ſolucione predicte pecunie annis predictis in parte aut in toto deficere, quod abſit; concedo et obligo pro me et aſſignatis meis, quod Vice-Comes—Oxon et—qui pro tempore fuerint, per omnes terras et tenementa, et omnia bona mea mobilia et immobilia ubicunque in balliva ſua fuerint inventa ad ſolucionem predictam faciendam poſſent nos compellere."’ And again—‘"Et ſi contingat dictos religioſos labores ſeu expenſas facere circa predictam pecuniam, ſeu circa partem dicte pecunie; volo quod dictorum religioſorum impenſe et labores levantur ita quod predicto priori vel uni canonicorum ſuorum ſuperhiis ſimplici verbo credatur fine alterius honere probacionis; et quod utrique predictorum virorum in unam marcam argenti pro cujuſlibet diſtrincione ſuper me facienda tenear.—Dat. apud Wareborn die ſabati proxima ante feſtum St. Marci evangeliſte, anno regni regis Edwardi tertio decimot."’

But the reader perhaps would wiſh to be better informed reſpecting this benefactreſs, of whom as yet he has heard no particulars.

The Ela Longſpee therefore above-mentioned was a lady of high birth and rank, and became counteſs to Thomas de Newburgh, the ſixth earl of Warwick: ſhe was the ſecond daughter of the famous Ela Longſpee counteſs of Saliſbury, by William Longſpee, natural ſon of king Henry II. by Roſamond.

[361] Our lady, following the ſteps of her illuſtrious motheru, ‘"was a great benefactreſs to the univerſity of Oxford, to the canons of Oſeney, the nuns of Godſtow, and other religious houſes in Oxfordſhire. She died very aged in the year 1300x, and was buried before the high altar in the abbey church of Oſeney, at the head of the tomb of Henry D'Oily, under a flat marble, on which was inlaid her portraiture, in the habit of a voweſs, engraved on a copper-plate."’ Edmondſon's Hiſtory and Genealogical Account of the Grevilles, p. 23.

LETTER XIII.

[362]

THE reader is here preſented with five forms reſpecting the chuſing of a prior; but as they are of ſome length they muſt be reſerved for the Appendix; their titles are No. 108. ‘"Charta petens licentiam elegendi prelatum a Domino epiſcopo Wintonienſi:—"Forma licentie conceſſe:"—"Forma decreti poſt electionem conficiendi:"—108. "Modus procedendi ad electionem per formam ſcrutinii:"—et "Forma ricte preſentandi electum."’ Such evidences are rare and curious, and throw great light upon the general monaſtico-eccleſiaſtical hiſtory of this kingdom, not yet ſufficiently underſtood.

In the year 1324 there was an election for a prior at Selborne; when ſome difficulties occurring, and a devolution taking place, application was made to Stratford, who was biſhop of Wincheſter at that time, and of courſe the viſitor and patron of the convent at the ſpot above-mentionedy.

An Extract from REG. STRATFORD. Winton.

P. 4. ‘"Commiſſio facta ſub-priori de Selebourne"’ by the biſhop enjoining him to preſerve the diſcipline of the order in the convent during the vacancy made by the late death of the prior, [363] ‘("nuper paſtoris ſolatio deſtituta,")’ dated 4th. kal. Maii. ann. 2do ſc. of his conſecration. [ſc. 1324.]

P. 6. ‘"Cuſtodia Prioratus de Seleburne vacantis,"’ committed by the biſhop to Nicholas de la —, a layman, it belonging to the biſhop ‘"ratione vacationis ejuſdem,"’ in July 1324, ibid. ‘"negotium electionis de Selebourne. Acta coram Johanne Epiſcopo, &c. 1324 in negotio electionis de fratre Waltero de Inſula concanonico prioratus de Selebourne,"’ lately elected by the ſub-prior and convent, by way of ſcrutiny: that it appeared to the biſhop, by certificate from the dean of Alton, that ſolemn citation and proclamation had been made in the church of the convent where the election was held that any who oppoſed the ſaid election or elected ſhould appear.—Some difficulties were ſtarted, which the biſhop over-ruled, and confirmed the election, and admitted the new prior ſub hac forma:

‘"In Dei nomine Amen. Ego Johannes permiſſione divina, &c. te Walterum de Inſula eccleſie de Selebourne noſtre dioceſeos noſtrique patronatus vacantis, canonicum et cantorem, virum utique providum, et diſcretum, literarum ſcientia preditum, vita moribus et converſatione merito commendatum, in ordine ſacerdotali et etate legitima conſtitutum, de legitimo matrimonio procreatum, in ordine et religione Sancti Auguſtini de Selebourne expreſſe profeſſum, in ſpiritualibus et temporalibus circumſpectum, jure nobis hac vice devoluto in hac parte, in dicte eccleſie de Selebourne perfectum priorem; curam et adminiſtrationem ejuſdem tibi in ſpiritualibus et temporalibus committentes. Dat. apud Selebourne XIII kalend. Auguſti anno ſupradicto."’

[364] There follows an order to the ſub-prior and convent pro obedientia:

A mandate to Nicholas above-named to releaſe the Priory to the new prior:

A mandate for the induction of the new prior.

LETTER XIV.

‘"IN the year 1373 Wykeham, biſhop of Wincheſter, held a viſitation of his whole dioceſe; not only of the ſecular clergy through the ſeveral deaneries, but alſo of the monaſteries, and religious houſes of all ſorts, which he viſited in perſon. The next year he ſent his commiſſioners with power to correct and reform the ſeveral irregularities and abuſes which he had diſcovered in the courſe of his viſitation."’

‘"Some years afterward, the biſhop having viſited three ſeveral times all the religious houſes throughout his dioceſe, and being well informed of the ſtate and condition of each, and of the particular abuſes which required correction and reformation, beſides the orders which he had already given, and the remedies which he had occaſionally applied by his commiſſioners, now iſſued his injunctions to each of them. They were accommodated to their ſeveral exigencies, and intended to correct the abuſes introduced, and to recall them all to a ſtrict obſervation [365] of the rules of their reſpective orders. Many of theſe injunctions are ſtill extant, and are evident monuments of the care and attention with which he diſcharged this part of his epiſcopal dutyz."’

Some of theſe injunctions I ſhall here produce; and they are ſuch as will not fail, I think, to give ſatisfaction to the antiquary, both as never having been publiſhed before, and as they are a curious picture of monaſtic irregularities at that time.

The documents that I allude to are contained in the Notabilis Viſitatio de Seleburne, held at the Priory of that place, by Wykeham in perſon, in the year 1387.

This evidence, in the original, is written on two ſkins of parchment; the one large, and the other ſmaller, and conſiſts of a preamble, 36 items, and a concluſion, which altogether evince the patient inveſtigation of the viſitor, for which he had always been ſo remarkable in all matters of moment, and how much he had at heart the regularity of thoſe inſtitutions, of whoſe efficacy in their prayers for the dead he was ſo firmly perſuaded. As the biſhop was ſo much in earneſt, we may be aſſured that he had nothing in view but to correct and reform what he found amiſs; and was under no bias to blacken, or miſrepreſent, as the commiſſioners of Thomas Lord Cromwell ſeem in part to have done at the time of the reformationa. We may therefore with reaſon ſuppoſe that the biſhop gives us an exact delineation of the morals and manners of the canons of Selborne at that juncture; and that what he found they had omitted he enjoins them; and for what they have done amiſs, and contrary to their rules and [366] ſtatutes, he reproves them; and threatens them with puniſhment ſuitable to their irregularities.

This viſitatio is of conſiderable length, and cannot be introduced into the body of this work; we ſhall therefore refer the reader to the Appendix, where he will find every particular, while we ſhall take ſome notice, and make ſome remarks, on the moſt ſingular items as they occur.

In the preamble the viſitor ſays—‘"Conſidering the charge lying upon us, that your blood may not be required at our hands, we came down to viſit your Priory, as our office required: and every time we repeated our viſitation we found ſomething ſtill not only contrary to regular rules but alſo repugnant to religion and good reputation."’

In the firſt article after the preamble—‘"he commands them on their obedience, and on pain of the greater excommunication, to ſee that the canonical hours by night and by day be ſung in their choir, and the maſſes of the Bleſſed Mary, and other accuſtomed maſſes, be celebrated at the proper hours with devotion, and at moderate pauſes; and that it be not allowed to any to abſent themſelves from the hours and maſſes, or to withdraw before they are finiſhed."’

Item 2d. He enjoins them to obſerve that ſilence to which they are ſo ſtrictly bound by the rule of Saint Auguſtine at ſtated times, and wholly to abſtain from frivolous converſation.

Item 4th. ‘"Not to permit ſuch frequent paſſing of ſecular people of both ſexes through their convent, as if a thoroughfare, from whence many diſorders may and have ariſen."’

Item 5th. ‘"To take care that the doors of their church and Priory be ſo attended to that no ſuſpected and diſorderly females, ‘'ſuſpectae et aliae inhoneſtae,'’ paſs through their choir [367] and cloiſter in the dark;"’ and to ſee that the doors of their church between the nave and the choir, and the gates of their cloiſter opening into the fields, be conſtantly kept ſhut until their firſt choir-ſervice is over in the morning, at dinner time, and when they meet at their evening collationb.

Item 6th mentions that ſeveral of the canons are found to be very ignorant and illiterate, and enjoins the prior to ſee that they be better inſtructed by a proper maſter.

Item 8th. The canons are here accuſed of refuſing to accept of their ſtatutable clothing year by year, and of demanding a certain ſpecified ſum of money, as if it were their annual rent and due. This the biſhop forbids, and orders that the canons ſhall be clothed out of the revenue of the Priory, and the old garments be laid by in a chamber and given to the poor, according to the rule of Saint Auguſtine.

In Item 9th is a complaint that ſome of the canons are given to wander out of the precincts of the convent without leave; and that others ride to their manors and farms, under pretence of inſpecting the concerns of the ſociety, when they pleaſe, and ſtay as long as they pleaſe. But they are enjoined never to ſtir either about their own private concerns or the buſineſs of the convent without leave from the prior: and no canon is to go alone, but to have a grave brother to accompany him.

The injunction in Item 10th, at this diſtance of time, appears rather ludicrous; but the viſitor ſeems to be very ſerious on the occaſion, and ſays that it has been evidently proved to him that ſome of the canons, living diſſolutely after the fleſh, and not after the ſpirit, ſleep naked in their beds without their breeches [368] and ſhirts, ‘"abſque femoralibus et camiſiisc."’ He enjoins that theſe culprits ſhall be puniſhed by ſevere faſting, eſpecially if they ſhall be found to be faulty a third time; and threatens the prior and ſub-prior with ſuſpenſion if they do not correct this enormity.

In Item 11th the good biſhop is very wroth with ſome of the canons, whom he finds to be profeſſed hunters and ſportſmen, keeping hounds, and publicly attending hunting-matches. Theſe purſuits, he ſays, occaſion much diſſipation, danger to the ſoul and body, and frequent expenſe; he, therefore, wiſhing to extirpate this vice wholly from the convent, "radicibus extirpare," does abſolutely enjoin the canons never intentionally to be preſent at any public noiſy tumultuous huntings; or to keep any hounds, by themſelves or by others, openly or by ſtealth, within the convent, or withoutd.

In Item 12th he forbids the canons in office to make their buſineſs a plea for not attending the ſervice of the choir; ſince by theſe means either divine worſhip is neglected or their brother-canons are over-burdened.

By Item 14th we are informed that the original number of canons at the Priory of Selborne was fourteen; but that at this viſitation they were found to be let down to eleven. The viſitor therefore ſtrongly [369] and earneſtly enjoins them that, with all due ſpeed and diligence, they ſhould proceed to the election of proper perſons to fill up the vacancies, under pain of the greater excommunication.

In Item 17th. the prior and canons are accuſed of ſuffering, through neglect, notorious dilapidations to take place among their manerial houſes and tenements, and in the walls and encloſures of the convent itſelf, to the ſhame and ſcandal of the inſtitution; they are therefore enjoined, under pain of ſuſpenſion, to repair all defects within the ſpace of ſix months.

Item 18th. charges them with grievouſly burthening the ſaid Priory by means of ſales, and grants of liveries e and corrodies f.

The biſhop, in item 19th, accuſes the canons of neglect and omiſſion with reſpect to their perpetual chantry-ſervices.

Item 20th. The viſitor here conjures the prior and canons not to withhold their original alms, "eleemoſynas;" nor thoſe that they were enjoined to diſtribute for the good of the ſouls of founders and benefactors: he alſo ſtrictly orders that the fragments and broken victuals, both from the hall of their prior and their common refectory ſhould be carefully collected together by their eleemoſynarius, and given to the poor without any diminution; the officer to be ſuſpended for neglect or omiſſion.

[370] Item 23d. He bids them diſtribute their pittances, "pitancias g," regularly on obits, anniverſaries, feſtivals, &c.

Item 25th. All and every one of the canons are hereby inhibited from ſtanding godfather to any boy for the future, ‘"ne compatres alicujus pueri de cetero fieri preſumatis,"’ unleſs by expreſs licenſe from the biſhop obtained; becauſe from ſuch relationſhip favour and affection, nepotiſm, and undue influence, ariſe, to the injury and detriment of religious inſtitutionsh.

Item 26th. The viſitor herein ſeverely reprimands the canons for appearing publicly in what would be called in the univerſities an unſtatutable manner, and for wearing of boots, ‘"caligae de Burneto, et ſotularium—in ocrearum loco, ad modum ſotulariumi."’

[371] It is remarkable that the biſhop expreſſes more warmth againſt this than any other irregularity; and ſtrictly enjoins them, under pain of eccleſiaſtical cenſures, and even impriſonment if neceſſary (a threat not made uſe of before), for the future to wear boots, ‘"ocreis ſeu botis,"’ according to the regular uſage of their ancient order.

Item 29th. He here again, but with leſs earneſtneſs, forbids them foppiſh ornaments, and the affectation of appearing like beaux with garments edged with coſtly furs, with fringed gloves, and ſilken girdles trimmed with gold and ſilver. It is remarkable that no puniſhment is annexed to this injunction.

Item 31ſt. He here ſingly and ſeverally forbids each canon not admitted to a cure of ſouls to adminiſter extreme unction, or the ſacrament, to clergy or laity; or to perform the ſervice of matrimony, till he has taken out the licenſe of the pariſh prieſt.

Item 32d. The biſhop ſays in this item that he had obſerved and found, in his ſeveral viſitations, that the ſacramental plate and cloths of the altar, ſurplices, &c. were ſometimes left in ſuch an uncleanly and diſguſting condition as to make the beholders ſhudder with horror;—‘"quod aliquibus ſunt horrorik:"’ he therefore enjoins them for the future to ſee that the plate, cloths, and veſtments, be kept bright, clean, and in decent order: and, what [372] muſt ſurpriſe the reader, adds—that he expects for the future that the ſacriſt ſhould provide for the ſacrament good wine, pure and unadulterated; and not, as had often been the practice, that which was ſour, and tending to decay:—he ſays farther, that it ſeems quite prepoſterous to omit in ſacred matters that attention to decent cleanlineſs, the neglect of which would diſgrace a common convivial meetingl.

Item 33d ſays that, though the relics of ſaints, the plate, holy veſtments, and books of religious houſes, are forbidden by canonical inſtitutes to be pledged or lent out upon pawn; yet, as the viſitor finds this to be the caſe in his ſeveral viſitations, he therefore ſtrictly enjoins the prior forthwith to recall thoſe pledges, and to reſtore them to the convent; and orders that all the papers and title deeds thereto belonging ſhould be ſafely depoſited, and kept under three locks and keys.

In the courſe of the Viſitatio Notabilis the conſtitutions of Legate Ottobonus are frequently referred to. Ottobonus was afterwards Pope Adrian V. and died in 1276. His conſtitutions are in Lyndewood's Provinciale, and were drawn up in the 52d of Henry III.

In the Vifitatio Notabilis the uſual puniſhment is faſting on bread and beer; and in caſes of repeated delinquency on bread and water. On theſe occaſions quarta feria, et ſexta feria, are mentioned often; and are to be underſtood of the days of the week numerically on which ſuch puniſhment is to be inflicted.

LETTER XV.

[373]

THOUGH biſhop Wykeham appears ſomewhat ſtern and rigid in his viſitatorial character towards the Priory of Selborne, yet he was on the whole a liberal friend and benefactor to that convent, which, like every ſociety or individual that fell in his way, partook of the generoſity and benevolence of that munificent prelate.

‘"In the year 1377 William of Wykeham, out of his mere good will and liberality, diſcharged the whole debts of the prior and convent of Selborne, to the amount of one hundred and ten marks eleven ſhillings and ſixpencem; and, a few years before he died, he made a free gift of one hundred marks to the ſame Priory: on which account the prior and convent voluntarily engaged for the celebration of two maſſes a day by two canons of the convent for ten years, for the biſhop's welfare, if he ſhould live ſo long; and for his ſoul if he ſhould die before the expiration of this termn."’

At this diſtance of time it ſeems matter of great wonder to us how theſe ſocieties, so nobly endowed, and whoſe members were exempt by their very inſtitution from every means of perſonal and [374] family expenſe, could poſſibly run in debt without ſquandering their revenues in a manner incompatible with their function.

Religious houſes might ſometimes be diſtreſſed in their revenues by fires among their buildings, or large dilapidations from ſtorms, &c.; but no ſuch accident appears to have befallen the Priory at Selborne. Thoſe ſituate on public roads, or in great towns where there were ſhrines of ſaints, were liable to be intruded on by travellers, devotees, and pilgrims; and were ſubject to the importunity of the poor, who ſwarmed at their gates to partake of doles and broken victuals. Of theſe diſadvantages ſome convents uſed to complain, and eſpecially thoſe at Canterbury; but this Priory, from it's ſequeſtered ſituation, could ſeldom be ſubject to either of theſe inconveniencies, and therefore we muſt attribute it's frequent debts and embarraſſments, well endowed as it was, to the bad conduct of it's members, and a general inattention to the intereſts of the inſtitution.

LETTER XVI.

[375]

BEAUFORT was biſhop of Wincheſter from 1405 to 1447; and yet, notwithſtanding this long epiſcopate, only tom. I. of Beaufort's Regiſter is to be found. This loſs is much to be regretted, as it muſt unavoidably make a gap in the hiſtory of Selborne Priory, and perhaps in the liſt of it's priors.

In 1410 there was an election for a prior, and again in 1411.

In vol. I. p. 24, of Beaufort's Regiſter, is the inſtrument of the election of John Wyncheſtre to be prior—the ſubſtance as follows:

Richard Elſtede, ſenior canon, ſignifies to the biſhop that brother Thomas Weſton, the late prior, died October 18th, 1410, and was buried November 11th.—That the biſhop's licenſe to elect having been obtained he and the whole convent met in the chapter-houſe, on the ſame day, about the hour of veſpers, to conſider of the election:—that brother John Wyncheſtre, then ſub-prior, with the general conſent, appointed the 12th of November, ad horam ejuſdem diei capitularem, for the buſineſs:—when they met in the chapter-houſe, poſt miſſam de ſancto Spiritu, ſolemnly celebrated in the church;—to wit, Richard Elſtede; Thomas Halyborne; John Lemyngton, ſacriſta; John Stepe, cantor; Walter Ffarnham; Richard Putworth, celerarius; Hugh London, Henry Brampton, alias Brompton; John Wyncheſtre, ſenior; John Wyncheſtre, junior;—then ‘"Propoſito primitus verbo Dei,"’ and then ympno ‘"Veni Creator Spiritus"’ [376] being ſolemnly ſung, cum ‘"verſiculo et oratione,"’ as uſual, and his letter of licenſe, with the appointment of the hour and place of election being read, alta voce, in valvis of the chapter-houſe;—John Wyncheſtre, ſenior, the ſub-prior, in his own behalf and that of all the canons, and by their mandate, ‘"quaſdam monicionem et proteſtacionem in ſcriptis redactas ſecit, legit, et interpoſuit"’—that all perſons diſqualified, or not having right to be preſent, ſhould immediately withdraw; and proteſting againſt their voting, &c.—that then having read the conſtitution of the general council ‘"Quia propter,"’ and explained the modes of proceeding to election, they agreed unanimouſly to proceed ‘"per viam ſeu formam ſimplicis compromiſſi;"’ when John Wyncheſtre, ſub-prior, and all the others (the commiſſaries undernamed excepted) named and choſe brothers Richard Elſtede, Thomas Halyborne, John Lemyngton the ſacriſt, John Stepe, chantor, and Richard Putworth, canons, to be commiſſaries, who were ſworn each to nominate and elect a fit perſon to be prior: and empowered by letters patent under the common ſeal, to be in force only until the darkneſs of the night of the ſame day;—that they, or the greater part of them, ſhould elect for the whole convent, within the limited time, from their own number, or from the reſt of the convent;—that one of them ſhould publiſh their conſent in common before the clergy and people:—they then all promiſed to receive as prior the perſon theſe five canons ſhould fix on. Theſe commiſſaries ſeceded from the chapter-houſe to the refectory of the Priory, and were ſhut in with maſter John Penkeſter, bachelor of laws; and John Couke and John Lynne, perpetual vicars of the pariſh churches of Newton and Selborne; and with Sampſon Maycock, a public notary; where they treated of the election; when they unanimouſly agreed on John Wyncheſtre, and appointed Thomas Halyborne to chuſe him in common [377] for all, and to publiſh the election, as cuſtomary; and returned long before it was dark to the chapter-houſe, where Thomas Halyborne read publicly the inſtrument of election; when all the brothers, the new prior excepted, ſinging ſolemnly the hymn "Te Deum laudamus," fecerunt deportari novum electum, by ſome of the brothers, from the chapter-houſe to the high altar of the churcho; and the hymn being ſung, dictiſque verſiculoet oratione conſuetis in hac parte, Thomas Halyborne, mox tunc ibidem, before the clergy and people of both ſexes ſolemnly publiſhed the election in vulgari. Then Richard Elſtede, and the whole convent by their proctors and nuncios appointed for the purpoſes, Thomas Halyborne and John Stepe, required ſeveral times the aſſent of the elected; ‘"et tandem poſt diutinas interpellationes, et deliberationem providam penes ſe habitam, in hac parte divine nolens, ut aſſeruit, reſiſtere voluntati,"’ within the limited time he ſignified his acceptance in the uſual written form of words. The biſhop is then ſupplicated to confirm their election, and do the needful, under common ſeal, in the chapter-houſe. November 14, 1410.

The biſhop, January 6, 1410, apud Eſher in camera inferiori, declared the election duly made, and ordered the new prior to be inducted—for this the archdeacon of Wincheſter was written to; ‘"ſtallumque in choro, et locum in capitulo juxta morem preteriti temporis,"’ to be aſſigned him; and every thing beſide neceſſary to be done.

[378]

BEAUFORT'S REGISTER, Vol. I.

P. 2. Taxatio ſpiritualis Decanatus de Aulton, Eccleſia de Selebourn, cum Capella,—xxx marc. decima xlib. iii ſol. Vicaria de Selebourn non taxatur propter exilitatem.

P. 9. Taxatio bonorum temporalium religioſorum in Archidiac. Wynton

Prior de Selebourn habet meneria de

Bromdene taxat. adxxx s. ii d.
Apud Schete adxvii s.
P. Selebourne advi lib.
In civitate Wynton de reddit.vi lib. viii ob.
Tannaria ſua taxat. adx lib. s.
Summa tax. xxxviii lib. xiiii d. ob. Inde decimavi lib. s. q. ob.

LETTER XVII.

[379]

INFORMATION being ſent to Rome reſpecting the havock and ſpoil that was carrying on among the revenues and lands of the Priory of Selborne, as we may ſuppoſe by the biſhop of Wincheſter, it's viſitor, Pope Martin p, as ſoon as the news of theſe proceedings came before him, iſſued forth a bull, in which he enjoins his commiſſary immediately to revoke all the property that had been alienated.

In this inſtrument his holineſs accuſes the prior and canons of having granted away (they themſelves and their predeceſſors) to certain clerks and laymen their tithes, lands, rents, tenements, and poſſeſſions, to ſome of them for their lives, to others for an undue term of years, and to ſome again for a perpetuity, to the great and heavy detriment of the monaſtery: and theſe leaſes were granted, he continues to add, under their own hands, with the ſanction of an oath and the renunciation of all right and claims, and under penalties, if the right was not made good.—But it will be beſt to give an abſtract from the bull.

N. 298. Pope Martin's bull touching the revoking of certaine things alienated from the Priory of Seleburne. Pontif. ſui ann. 1.

[380] ‘"Martinus Epſ. ſervus ſervorum Dei. Dilecto filio Priori de Suthvale q Wyntonien. dioc. Salutem & apoſtolicam ben. Ad audientiam noſtram pervenit quam tam dilecti filii prior et conventus monaſterii de Seleburn per Priorem ſoliti gubernari ordinis Sti. Auguſtini Winton. dioc. quam de predeceſſores eorum decimas, terras, redditus, domos, poſſeſſiones, vineas r, et quedam alia bona ad monaſterium ipſum ſpectantia, datis ſuper hoc litteris, interpoſitis juramentis, factis renuntiationibus, et penis adjectis, in gravem ipſius monaſterii leſionem nonnullis clericis et laicis, aliquibus eorum ad vitam, quibuſdam vero ad non modicum tempus, & aliis perpetuo ad firmam, vel ſub cenſu annuo conceſſerunt; quorum aliqui dicunt ſuper hiis a ſede aplica in communi forma confirmationis litteras impetraſſe. Quia vero noſtra intereſt leſis monaſteriis ſubvenire—[He the Pope here commands]—ea ad jus et proprietatem monaſterii ſtudeas legitime revocare,"’ &c.

The conduct of the religious had now for ſome time been generally bad. Many of the monaſtic ſocieties, being very opulent, were become voluptuous and licentious, and had deviated entirely from their original inſtitutions. The laity ſaw with indignation the wealth and poſſeſſions of their pious anceſtors perverted to the ſervice of ſenſuality and indulgence; and ſpent in gratifications highly unbecoming the purpoſes for which they were [381] given. A total diſregard to their reſpective rules and diſcipline drew on the monks and canons a heavy load of popular odium. Some good men there were who endeavoured to oppoſe the general delinquency; but their efforts were too feeble to ſtem the torrent of monaſtic luxury. As far back as the year 1381 Wickliffe's principles and doctrines had made ſome progreſs, were well received by men who wiſhed for a reformation, and were defended and maintained by them as long as they dared; till the biſhops and clergy began to be ſo greatly alarmed, that they procured an act to be paſſed by which the ſecular arm was empowered to ſupport the corrupt doctrines of the church; but the firſt lollard was not burnt until the year 1401.

The wits alſo of thoſe times did not ſpare the groſs morals of the clergy, but boldly ridiculed their ignorance and profligacy. The moſt remarkable of theſe were Chaucer, and his contemporary Robert Langelande, better known by the name of Piers Plowman. The laughable tales of the former are familiar to almoſt every reader; while the viſions of the latter are but in few hands. With a quotation from the Paſſus Decimus of this writer I ſhall conclude my letter; not only on account of the remarkable prediction therein contained, which carries with it ſomewhat of the air of a prophecy; but alſo as it ſeems to have been a ſtriking picture of monaſtic inſolence and diſſipation; and a ſpecimen of one of the keeneſt pieces of ſatire now perhaps ſubſiſting in any language, ancient or modern.

"Now is religion a rider, a romer by ſtreate;
"A leader of love-days, and a loud begger;
"A pricker on a palfrey from maner to maner,
"A heape of hounds at his arſe, as he a lord were.
[382] "And but if his knave kneel, that ſhall his cope bring,
"He loureth at him, and aſketh him who taught him curteſie,
"Little had lords to done, to give lands from her heirs,
"To religious that have no ruth if it rain on her altars.
"In many places ther they perſons be, by himſelf at eaſe:
"Of the poor have they no pity, and that is her charitie;
"And they letten hem as lords, her lands lie ſo broad.
"And there ſhal come a king r, and confeſs you religious;
"And beate you, as the bible telleth, for breaking your rule,
"And amend monials, and monks, and chanons,
"And put hem to her penaunce ad priſtinum ſtatum ire."

LETTER XVIII.

[383]

WILLIAM of Waynflete became biſhop of Wincheſter in the year 1447, and ſeems to have purſued the generous plan of Wykeham in endeavouring to reform the Priory of Selborne.

When Waynflete came to the ſee he found prior Stype, alias Stepe, ſtill living, who had been elected as long ago as the year 1411.

Among my documents I find a curious paper of the things put into the cuſtody of Peter Bernes the ſacriſt, and eſpecially ſome relics: the title of this evidence is ‘"No. 50, Indentura prioris de Selborne quorundam tradit. Petro Bernes ſacriſtae, ibidem, ann. Hen. VI.—una cum confiſſ. ejuſdem Petri ſcript."’ The occaſion of this catalogue, or liſt of effects, being drawn between the prior and ſacriſt does not appear, nor the date when; only that it happened in the reign of Hen. VI. This tranſaction probably took place when Bernes entered on his office; and there is the more reaſon to ſuppoſe that to be the caſe, becauſe the liſt conſiſts of veſtments and implements, and relics, ſuch as belonged to the church of the Priory, and fell under the care of the ſacriſt. For the numerous items I ſhall refer the curious reader to the Appendix, and ſhall juſt mention the relics, although they are not all ſpecified; and the ſtate of the live ſtock of the monaſtery at that juncture.

  • "Item 2. oſculatōr. argent.
  • "Item 1. oſculatorium cum oſſe digiti auriculār.—Sti. Johannis Baptiſtae s.
  • "Item 1. parvam crucem cum V. reliquiis.
  • "Item 1. anulum argent. et deauratum St. Edmundi t.
  • "Item 2. oſculat. de coper.
  • "Item 1. junctorium St. Ricardi u.
  • "Item 1. pecten St. Ricardi x."

The ſtaurum, or live ſtock, is quite ridiculous, conſiſting only of ‘"2 vacce, 1 ſus, 4 hoggett. et 4 porcell."’ viz. two cows, one ſow, four porkers, and four pigs.

LETTER XIX.

[385]

STEPE died towards the end of the year 1453, as we may ſuppoſe pretty far advanced in life, having been prior forty-four years.

On the very day that the vacancy happened, viz. January 26, 1453-4, the ſub-prior and convent petitioned the viſitor—‘"vos unicum levamen noſtrum, et ſpem unanimiter rogamus, quatinus eligendum ex nobis unum confratrem de gremio noſtro, in noſtra religione probatum et expertem, licenciam veſtram paternalem cum plena libertate nobis concedere dignemini gracioſe."’ Reg. Waynflete, tom. I.

Inſtead of the licenſe requeſted we find next a commiſſion ‘"cuſtodie prioratus de Selebourne durante vacatione,"’ addreſſed to brother Peter Berne, canon-regular of the priory of Selebourne, and of the order of St. Auguſtine, appointing him keeper of the ſaid priory, and empowering him to collect and receive the profits and revenues, and ‘"alia bona"’ of the ſaid priory; and to exerciſe in every reſpect the full power and authority of a prior; but to be reſponſible to the viſitor finally, and to maintain this ſuperiority during the biſhop's pleaſure only. This inſtrument is dated from the biſhop's manor-houſe in Southwark, March 1, 1453-4, and the ſeventh of his conſecration.

[386] After this tranſaction it does not appear that the chapter of the Priory proceeded to any election; on the contrary, we find that at ſix months end from the vacancy the viſitor declared that a lapſe had taken place; and that therefore he did confer the priorſhip on canon Peter Bernc.‘"Prioratum vacantem et ad noſtram collationem, ſeu proviſionem jure ad nos in hac parte per lapſum temporis legitime devoluto ſpectantem, tibi (fc. P. Berne) de legitimo matrimonio procreato, &c.—conferimus,"’ &c. This deed bears date July 28, 1454. Reg. Waynflete, tom. I. p. 69.

On February 8, 1462, the viſitor iſſued out a power of ſequeſtration againſt the Priory of Selborne on account of notorious dilapidations, which threatened manifeſt ruin to the roofs, walls, and edifices, of the ſaid convent; and appointing John Hammond, B.D. rector of the pariſh church of Hetlegh, John Hylling, vicar of the pariſh church of Newton Valence, and Walter Gorfin, inhabitant of the pariſh of Selborne, his ſequeſtrators, to exact, collect, levy, and receive, all the profits and revenues of the ſaid convent: he adds ‘"ac ea ſub areto, et tuto cuſtodiatis, cuſtodirive faciatis;"’ as they would anſwer it to the biſhop at their peril.

In conſequence of theſe proceedings prior Berne, on the laſt day of February, and the next year, produced a ſtate of the revenues of the Priory, No. 381, called ‘"A paper conteyning the value of the manors and lands pertayning to the Priory of Selborne. 4 Edward III. with a note of charges yſſuing out of it."’

This is a curious document, and will appear in the Appendix. From circumſtances in this paper it is plain that the ſequeſtration produced good effects; for in it are to be found bills of repairs to a conſiderable amount.

[387] By this evidence alſo it appears that there were at that juncture only four canons at the Prioryu; and that theſe, and their four houſehold ſervants, during this ſequeſtration for their clothing, wages, and diet, were allowed per ann. xxx lib.; and that the annual penſion of the lord prior, reſide where he would, was to be x lib.

In the year 1468, prior Berne, probably wearied out by the diſſenſions and want of order that prevailed in the convent, reſigned his priorſhip into the hands of the biſhop.

Reg. Waynflete, tom. I. pars 1ma, fol. 157.

March 28, A.D. 1468. ‘"In quadam alta camera juxta magnam portam manerii of the biſhop of Wynton de Waltham coram eodem rev. patre ibidem tunc ſedente, Peter Berne, prior of Selborne, ipſum prioratum in ſacras, et venerabiles manus of the biſhop, viva voce libere reſignavit: and his reſignation was admitted before two witneſſes and a notary-public. In conſequence, March 29th, before the biſhop, in capella manerii ſui ante dicti pro tribunali ſedente, comparuerunt fratres"’ Peter Berne, Thomas London, William Wyndeſor, and William Paynell, alias Stretford, canons regular of the Priory, ‘"capitulum, et conventum ejuſdem eccleſie facientes; ac jus et voces in electione futura prioris dicti prioratus ſolum et in ſolidum, ut aſſeruerunt, habentes;"’ and after the biſhop had notified to them the vacancy of a prior, with his free licenſe to elect, deliberated awhile, and then, by way of compromiſe, as they affirmed, unanimouſly tranſferred their right of election to the biſhop before witneſſes. In conſequence of this the biſhop, after full deliberation, proceeded, [388] April 7th, ‘"in capella manerii ſui de Waltham,"’ to the election of a prior; ‘"et fratrem Johannem Morton, priorem eccleſie conventualis de Reygate dicti ordinis Sti. Auguſtini Wynton. dioc. in priorem vice et nomine omnium et ſingulorum canonicorum predictorum elegit, in ordine ſacerdotali, et etate licita conſtitutum, &c."’ And on the ſame day, in the ſame place, and before the ſame witneſſes, John Morton reſigned to the biſhop the priorſhip of Reygate viva voce. The biſhop then required his conſent to his own election; ‘"qui licet in parte renitens tanti reverendi patris ſe confirmans,"’ obeyed, and ſignified his conſent oraculo vive vocis. Then was there a mandate citing any one who would gainſay the ſaid election to appear before the biſhop or his commiſſary in his chapel at Farnham on the ſecond day of May next. The dean of the deanery of Aulton then appeared before the chancellor, his commiſſary, and returned the citation or mandate dated April 22d, 1468, with ſignification, in writing, of his having publiſhed it as required, dated Newton Valence, May 1ſt, 1468. This certificate being read, the four canons of Selborne appeared and required the election to be confirmed; et ex ſuper abundanti appointed William Long their proctor to ſolicit in their name that he might be canonically confirmed. John Morton alſo appeared, and proclamation was made; and no one appearing againſt him, the commiſſary pronounced all abſentees contumacious, and precluded them from objecting at any other time; and, at the inſtance of John Morton and the proctor, confirmed the election by his decree, and directed his mandate to the rector of Hedley and the vicar of Newton Valence to inſtall him in the uſual form.

[389] Thus, for the firſt time, was a perſon, a ſtranger to the convent of Selborne, and never canon of that monaſtery, elected prior; though the ſtyle of the petitions in former elections uſed to run thus,—‘"Vos—rogamus quatinus eligendum ex nobis unum confratrem de gremio noſtro,—licentiam veſtram—nobis concedere dignemini."’

LETTER XX.

PRIOR Morton dying in 1471, two canons, by themſelves, proceeded to election, and choſe a prior; but two more (one of them Berne) complaining of not being ſummoned, objected to the proceedings as informal; till at laſt the matter was compromiſed that the biſhop ſhould again, for that turn, nominate as he had before. But the circumſtances of this election will be beſt explained by the following extract:

REG. WAYNFLETE, tom. II, pars 1ma, fol. 7.

Memorandum. A.D. 1471. Auguſt 22.

William Wyndeſor, a canon-regular of the Priory of Selburne, having been elected prior on the death of brother John, appeared in perſon before the biſhop in his chapel at South Waltham. He [390] was attended on this occaſion by Thomas London and John Bromeſgrove, canons, who had elected him. Peter Berne and William Stratfeld, canons, alſo preſented themſelves at the ſame time, complaining that in this buſineſs they had been overlooked, and not ſummoned; and that therefore the validity of the election might with reaſon be called in queſtion, and quarrels and diſſenſions might probably ariſe between the newly choſen prior and the parties thus neglected.

After ſome altercation and diſpute they all came to an agreement with the new prior, that what had been done ſhould be rejected and annulled; and that they would again, for this turn, transfer to the biſhop their power to elect, order, and provide them another prior, whom they promiſed unanimouſly to admit.

The biſhop accepted of this offer before witneſſes; and on September 27, in an inner chamber near the chapel abovementioned, after full deliberation, choſe brother Thomas Fairwiſe, vicar of Somborne, a canon-regular of Saint Auguſtine in the Priory of Bruſcough, in the dioceſe of Coventry and Litchfield, to be prior of Selborne. The form is nearly as above in the laſt election. The canons are again enumerated; W. Wyndeſor, ſub-prior, P. Berne, T. London, W. Stratfeld, J. Bromeſgrove, who had formed the chapter, and had requeſted and obtained licenſe to elect, but had unanimouſly conferred their power on the biſhop. In conſequence of this proceeding, the biſhop taking the buſineſs upon himſelf, that the Priory might not ſuffer detriment for want of a governor, appoints the aforeſaid T. Fairwiſe to be prior. A citation was ordered as above for gainſayers to appear October 4th, before the biſhop or his commiſſaries at South Waltham; but none appearing, the commiſſaries admitted the ſaid Thomas, ordered him to be inſtalled, [391] and ſent the uſual letter to the convent to render him due obedience.

Thus did the biſhop of Wincheſter a ſecond time appoint a ſtranger to be prior of Selborne, inſtead of one choſen out of the chapter. For this ſeeming irregularity the viſitor had no doubt good and ſufficient reaſons, as probably may appear hereafter.

LETTER XXI.

WHATEVER might have been the abilities and diſpoſition of prior Fairwiſe, it could not have been in his power to have brought about any material reformation in the Priory of Selborne, becauſe he departed this life in the month of Auguſt 1472, before he had preſided one twelvemonth.

As ſoon as their governor was buried the chapter applied to their viſitor for leave to chuſe a new prior, which being granted, after deliberating for a time, they proceeded to an election by a ſcrutiny. But as this mode of voting has not been deſcribed but by the mere form in the Appendix, an extract from the biſhop's regiſter, repreſenting the manner more fully, may not be diſagreeable to ſeveral readers.

WAYNEFLETE REG. tom. II. pars 1ma, fol. 15.

‘"Reverendo &c. ac noſtro patrono gracioſiſſimo veſtri humiles, et devote obedientie filii,"’ &c.

[392] To the right reverend Father in God, and our moſt gracious patron, we, your obedient and devoted ſons, William Wyndeſor, preſident of the chapter of the Priory of Selborne, and the convent of that place, do make known to your lordſhip, that our priorſhip being lately vacant by the death of Thomas Fairwiſe, our late prior, who died Auguſt 11th, 1472, having committed his body to decent ſepulture, and having requeſted, according to cuſtom, leave to elect another, and having obtained it under your ſeal, we, William Wyndeſor, preſident of the convent on the 29th of Auguſt, in our chapter-houſe aſſembled, and making a chapter, taking to us in this buſineſs Richard ap Jenkyn, and Galfrid Bryan, chaplains, that our ſaid Priory might not by means of this vacancy incur harm or loſs, unanimouſly agreed on Auguſt the laſt for the day of election; on which day, having firſt celebrated maſs, "De ſancto ſpiritu," at the high altar, and having called a chapter by tolling a bell about ten o' the clock, we, William Wyndeſor, preſident, Peter Berne, Thomas London, and William Stratfield, canons, who alone had voices, being the only canons, about ten o' the clock, firſt ſung "Veni Creator," the letters and licenſe being read in the preſence of many perſons there. Then william Wyndeſor, in his own name, and that of all the canons, made ſolemn proclamation, enjoining all who had no right to vote to depart out of the chapter-houſe. When all were withdrawn except Guyllery de Lacuna, in decretis Baccalarius, and Robert Peverell, notary-public, and alſo the two chaplains, the firſt was requeſted to ſtay, that he might direct and inform us in the mode of election; the other, that he might record and atteſt the tranſactions; and the two laſt that they might be witneſſes to them.

[393] Then, having read the conſtitution of the general council ‘"Quia propter,"’ and the forms of elections contained in it being ſufficiently explained to them by De Lacuna, as well in Latin as the vulgar tongue, and having deliberated in what mode to proceed in this election, they reſolved on that of ſcrutiny. Three of the canons, Wyndeſor, Berne, and London, were made ſcrutators: Berne, London, and Stratfeld, chuſing Wyndeſor; Wyndeſor, London, and Stratfeld, chuſing Berne; Wyndeſor, Berne, and Stratfeld, chuſing London.

They were empowered to take each other's vote, and then that of Stratfeld; ‘"et ad inferiorem partem angularem"’ of the chapter-houſe, ‘"juxta oſtium ejuſdem declinentes,"’ with the other perſons, (except Stratfeld, who ſtaid behind) proceeded to voting, two ſwearing, and taking the voice of the third, in ſucceſſion, privately. Wyndeſor voted firſt: ‘"Ego credo Petrum Berne meliorem et utiliorem ad regimen iſtius eccleſie, et in ipſum conſentio, ac cum nomino,"’ &c. Berne was next ſworn, and in like manner nominated Wyndeſor; London nominated Berne: Stratfeld was then called and ſworn, and nominated Berne.

‘"Quibus in ſcriptis redactis,"’ by the notary-public, they returned to the upper part of the chapter-houſe, where by Wyndeſor ‘"ſic purecta fecerunt in communi,"’ and then ſolemnly, in form written, declared the election of Berne: when all, ‘"antedicto noſtro electo excepto, approbantes et ratificantes, cepimus decantare ſolemniter 'Te Deum laudamus,' et ſic canentes dictum electum ad majus altare eccleſie deduximus, ut apud nos eſt moris. Then Wyndeſor electionem clero et populo infra chorum dicte eccleſie congregatis publicavit, et perſonam electi publice et perſonaliter oſtendit."’ We then returned to the chapter-houſe, except our prior; and Wyndeſor was appointed by the other two [394] their proctor, to deſire the aſſent of the elected, and to notify what had been done to the biſhop; and to deſire him to confirm the election, and do whatever elſe was neceſſary. Then their proctor, before the witneſſes, required Berne's aſſent in the chapter-houſe: ‘"qui quidem inſtanciis et precibus multiplicatis devictus,"’ conſented, ‘"licet indignus electus,"’ in writing. They therefore requeſt the biſhop's confirmation of their election ‘"ſic canonice et ſolemniter celebrata,"’ &c. &c. Sealed with their common ſeal, and ſubſcribed and atteſted by the notary. Dat. in the chapter-houſe September 5th. 1472.

In conſequence, September 11th, 1472, in the biſhop's chapel at Eſher, and before the biſhop's commiſſary, appeared W. Wyndeſor, and exhibited the above inſtrument, and a mandate from the biſhop for the appearance of gainſayers of the election there on that day:—and no one appearing, the abſentees were declared contumacious, and the election confirmed; and the vicar of Aulton was directed to induct and inſtall the prior in the uſual manner.

Thus did canon Berne, though advanced in years, reaſſume his abdicated priorſhip for the ſecond time, to the no ſmall ſatisfaction, as it may ſeem, of the biſhop of Wincheſter, who profeſſed, as will be ſhown not long hence, an high opinion of his abilities and integrity.

LETTER XXII.

[395]

As prior Berne, when choſen in 1454, held his priorſhip only to 1468, and then made a voluntary reſignation, wearied and diſguſted, as we may conclude, by the diſorder that prevailed in his convent; it is no matter of wonder that, when re-choſen in 1472, he ſhould not long maintain his ſtation; as old age was then coming faſt upon him, and the increaſing anarchy and miſrule of that declining inſtitution required unuſual vigour and reſolution to ſtem that torrent of profligacy which was hurrying it on to it's diſſolution. We find, accordingly, that in 1478 he reſigned his dignity again into the hands of the biſhop.

WAYNFLETE REG. fol. 55.

Reſignatio Prioris de Seleborne.

May 14, 1478. Peter Berne reſigned the priorſhip. May 16 the biſhop admitted his reſignation ‘"in manerio ſuo de Waltham,"’ and declared the priorſhip void; ‘"et priorat. ſolacio deſtitutum eſſe;"’ and granted his letters for proceeding to a new election: when all the religious, aſſembled in the chapter-houſe, did transfer their power under their ſeal to the biſhop, by the following public inſtrument.

[396] ‘"In Dei nomine Amen,"’ &c. A.D. 1478, Maii 19. In the chapter-houſe for the election of a prior for that day, on the free reſignation of Peter Berne, having celebrated in the firſt place maſs at the high altar ‘"De ſpiritu ſancto,"’ and having called a chapter by tolling a bell, ut moris eſt; in the preſence of a notary and witneſſes appeared perſonally Peter Berne, Thomas Aſhford; Stephen Clydgrove, and John Aſhton, preſbyters, and Henry Canwood x, in chapter aſſembled; and after ſinging the hymn ‘" 'Veni Creator Spiritus,' cum verſiculo et oratione 'Deus qui corda;' declarataque licentia Fundatoris et patroni; futurum priorem eligendi conceſſa, et conſtitutione conſilii generalis que incipit 'Quia propter' declaratis; viiſque per quas poſſent ad hanc electionem procedere,"’ by the decretorum doctorem, whom the canons had taken to direct them—they all and every one ‘"dixerunt et affirmarunt ſe nolle ad aliquam viam procedere:"’—but, for this turn only, renounced their right, and unanimouſly transferred their power to the biſhop, the ordinary of the place, promiſing to receive whom he ſhould provide; and appointed a proctor to preſent the inſtrument to the biſhop under their ſeal; and required their notary to draw it up in due form, &c. ſubſcribed by the notary.

After the viſitor had fully deliberated on the matter, he proceeded to the choice of a prior, and elected, by the following inſtrument, John Sharp, alias Glaſtenbury.

[397]

Fol. 56. PROVISIO PRIORIS per EPM.

Willmus, &c. to our beloved brother in CHRIST John Sharp, alias Glaſtenbury, Eccleſie conventualis de Bruton, of the order of St. Auſtin, in the dioceſe of Bath and Wells, canon-regular—ſalutem &c. ‘"De tue circumſpectionis induſtria plurimum confidentes, te virum providum et diſcretum, literarum ſcientia, et moribus merito commendandum,"’ &c.—do appoint you prior—under our ſeal. ‘"Dat. in manerio noſtro de Suthwaltham, May 20,"’ 1478, "et noſtre Conſec. 31.

Thus did the biſhop, three times out of the four that he was at liberty to nominate, appoint a prior from a diſtance, a ſtranger to the place, to govern the convent of Selborne, hoping by this method to have broken the cabal, and to have interrupted that habit of miſmanagement that had pervaded the ſociety: but he acknowledges, in an evidence lying before us, that he never did ſuceed to his wiſhes with reſpect to thoſe late governors,—‘"quos tamen male ſe habuiſſe, et inutiliter adminiſtrare, et adminiſtraſſe uſque ad preſentia tempora poſt debitam inveſtigationem, &c. invenit."’ The only time that he appointed from among the canons, he made choice of Peter Berne, for whom he had conceived the greateſt eſteem and regard.

When prior Berne firſt relinquiſhed his priorſhip, he returned again to his former condition of canon, in which he continued for ſome years: but when he was re-choſen, and had abdicated a ſecond time, we find him in a ſorlorn ſtate, and in danger of being reduced to beggary, had not the biſhop of Wincheſter interpoſed in his favour, and with great humanity inſiſted on a proviſion for [389] him for life. The reaſon for this difference ſeems to have been, that, in the firſt caſe, though in years, he might have been hale and capable of taking his ſhare in the duty of the convent; in the ſecond, he was broken with age, and no longer equal to the functions of a canon.

Impreſſed with this idea the biſhop very benevolently interceded in his favour, and laid his injunctions on the new-elected prior in the following manner.

Fol. 56. ‘"In Dei nomine Amen. Nos Willmus, &c. conſiderantes Petrum Berne,"’ late prior ‘"in adminiſtratione ſpiritualium et temporalium prioratus laudabiliter vixiſſe et rexiſſe; ipſumque ſenio et corporis debilitate confractum; ne in opprobrium religionis mendicari cogatur;—eidem annuam penſionem a Domino Johanne Sharp, alias Glaſtonbury, priore moderno,"’ and his ſucceſſors, and, from the Priory or church, to be payed every year during his life, ‘"de voluntate et ex conſenſu expreſſis"’ of the ſaid John Sharp, ‘"ſub ea que ſequitur forma verborum—aſſignamus:"’

1ſt. That the ſaid prior and his ſucceſſors, for the time being, honeſte exhibebunt of the fruits and profits of the priorſhip, ‘"eidem eſculenta et poculenta,"’ while he remained in the Priory ‘"ſub conſimili portione eorundem prout convenienter priori,"’ for the time being, miniſtrari contigerit; and in like manner uni famulo, whom he ſhould chuſe to wait on him, as to the ſervientibus of the prior.

Item. ‘"Invenient ſeu exhibebunt eidem unam honeſtam cameram"’ in the Priory, ‘"cum focalibus neceſſariis ſeu opportunis ad eundem."’

[399] Item. We will, ordain, &c. to the ſaid P. Berne an annual penſion of ten marks, from the revenue of the Priory, to be paid by the hands of the prior quarterly.

The biſhop decrees farther, that John Sharp, and his ſucceſſors, ſhall take an oath to obſerve this injunction, and that before their inſtallation.

‘"Lecta et facta ſunt haec in quodam alto oratorio,"’ belonging to the biſhop at Suthwaltham, May 25, 1478, in the preſence of John Sharp, who gave his aſſent, and then took the oath before witneſſes, with the other oaths before the chancellor, who decreed he ſhould be inducted and inſtalled; as was done that ſame day.

How John Sharp, alias Glaſtonbury, acquitted himſelf in his priorſhip, and in what manner he made a vacancy, whether by reſignation, or death, or whether he was removed by the viſitor, does not appear; we only find that ſome time in the year 1484 there was no prior, and that the biſhop nominated canon Aſhford to fill the vacancy.

LETTER XXIII.

[400]

THIS Thomas Aſhford was moſt undoubtedly the laſt prior of Selborne; and therefore here will be the proper place to ſay ſomething concerning a liſt of the priors, and to endeavour to improve that already given by others.

At the end of biſhop Tanner's Notitia Monaſtica, the folio edition, among Brown Willis's Principals of Religious Houſes occur the names of eleven of the priors of Selborne, with dates. But this liſt is imperfect, and particularly at the beginning; for though the Priory was founded in 1232, yet it commences with Nich. de Cantia, elected in 1262; ſo that for the firſt thirty years no prior is mentioned; yet there muſt have been one or more. We were in hopes that the regiſter of Peter de Rupibus would have rectified this omiſſion; but, when it was examined, no information of the ſort was to be found. From the year 1410 the liſt is much corrected and improved; and the reader may depend on it's being thence forward very exact.

[401]

A LIST of the PRIORS of SELBORNE PRIORY, from Brown Willis's Principals of Religious Houſes, with additions within [ ] by the author.
[John — was prior, ſine dat.]y 
Nich. de Cantia el.1262.
[Peter — was prior in1271.]
[Richard — was prior in1280.]
Will. Baſing was prior in1299.
Walter de Inſula el. in

[Some difficulties, and a devolution; but the election confirmed by biſhop Stratford.]

1324.
John de Wintōn1339.
Thomas Weſton1377.
John Wincheſter, [Wyncheſtre]

[Elected by biſhop Beaufort ‘"per viam vel formam ſimplicis compromiſſi.]’

1410.
[John Stype, alias Stepe, in1411.]
Peter Bene [alias Berne or Bernes, appointed keeper, and, by lapſe to biſhop Wayneflete, prior] in

[He reſigns in 1468.]

1454.
John Morton, [Prior of Reygate] in

[The canons by compromiſe transfer the power of election to the biſhop.]

1468.
[402] Will. Winſor [Wyndeſor, prior for a few days]

[but removed on account of an irregular election.]

1471.
Thomas Farwill [Fairwiſe, vicar of Somborne]

[by compromiſe again elected by the biſhop.]

1471.
[Peter Berne, re-elected by ſcrutiny in

[reſigns again in 1478.]

1472,]
John Sharper [Sharp] alias Glaſtonbury.

[Canon-reg. of Bruton, elected by the biſhop by compromiſe.]

1478.
[Thomas Aſhford, canon of Selborne, laſt prior elected by the biſhop of Wincheſter, ſome time in the year

and depoſed at the diſſolution.]

1484,

LETTER XXIV.

[403]

BISHOP Wayneflete's efforts to continue the Priory ſtill proved unſucceſsful; and the convent, without any canons, and for ſome time without a prior, was tending ſwiftly to it's diſſolution.

When Sharp's, alias Glaſtonbury's, priorſhip ended does not appear. The biſhop ſays that he had been obliged to remove ſome priors for male-adminiſtration: but it is not well explained how that could be the caſe with any, unleſs with Sharp; becauſe all the others, choſen during his epiſcopate, died in their office, viz. Morton and Fairwiſe; Berne only excepted, who relinquiſhed twice voluntarily, and was moreover approved of by Wayneflete as a perſon of integrity. But the way to ſhew what ineffectual pains the biſhop took, and what difficulties he met with, will be to quote the words of the libel of his proctor Radulphus Langley, who appeared for the biſhop in the proceſs of the impropriation of the Priory of Selborne. The extract is taken from an atteſted copy.

‘"Item—that the ſaid biſhop—dicto prioratui et perſonis ejuſdem pie compatiens, ſollicitudines paſtorales, labores, et diligentias graviſſimas quam plurimas, tam per ſe quam per ſuos, pro reformatione premiſſorum impendebat: et aliquando illius loci prioribus, propter malam et inutilem adminiſtrationem, et diſpenſationem bonorum predicti prioratus, ſuis demeritis exigentibus, [402] [...] [403] [...] [404] amotis; alios priores in quorum circumſpectione et diligentia confidebat, prefecit: quos tamen male ſe habuiſſe ac inutiliter adminiſtrare, et adminiſtraſſe, uſque ad preſentia tempora poſt debitam inveſtigationem, &c. invenit."’ So that he deſpaired with all his care—‘"ſtatum ejuſdem reparare vel reſtaurare: et conſiderata temporis malicia, et preteritis timendo et conjecturando futura, de aliqua bona et ſancta religione ejuſdem ordinis, &c. juxta piam intentionem primevi fundatoris ibidem habend. deſperatur."’

William Wainfleet, biſhop of Wincheſter, founded his college of Saint Mary Magdalene, in the univerſity of Oxford, in or about the year 1459; but the revenues proving inſufficient for ſo large and noble an eſtabliſhment, the college ſupplicated the founder to augment it's income by putting it in poſſeſſion of the eſtates belonging to the Priory of Selborne, now become a deſerted convent, without canons or prior. The preſident and fellows ſtate the circumſtances of their numerous inſtitution and ſcanty proviſion, and the ruinous and perverted condition of the Priory. The biſhop appoints commiſſaries to inquire into the ſtate of the ſaid monaſtery; and, if found expedient, to confirm the appropriation of it to the college, which ſoon after appoints attornies to take poſſeſſion, September 24, 1484. But the way to give the reader a thorough inſight reſpecting this tranſaction, will be to tranſcribe a farther proportion of the proceſs of the impropriation from the beginning, which will lay open the manner of proceeding, and ſhew the conſent of the parties.

[405]

IMPROPRIATIO SELBORNE, 1485.

‘"Univerſis ſancte matris eccleſie filiis, &c. Ricardus Dei gratia prior eccleſie conventualis de Novo Loco, &cz. ad univerſitatem veſtre notitie deducimus, &c. quod coram nobis commiſſario predicto in eccleſia parochiali Sti. Georgii de Esſher, dict. Winton. dioc. 3o. die Auguſti, A.D. 1485. Indictione tertia pontificat. Innocentii 8vi. ann. 1mo. judicialiter comparuit venerabilis vir Jacobus Preſton, S.T.P. infraſcriptus, et exhibuit literas commiſſionis—quas quidem per magiſtrum Thomam Somercotes notarium publicum, &c. legi fecimus, tenorem ſequentem in ſe continentes."’ The ſame as No. 103, but dated—‘"In manerio noſtro de Esſher, Auguſti, 1mo. A.D. 1485, et noſtre conſec. anno 39."’ [No. 103 is repeated in a book containing the like proceſs in the preceding year by the ſame commiſſary, in the pariſh church of St. Andrew the apoſtle, at Farnham, Sept. 6th, anno 1484.] ‘"Poſt quarum literarum lecturam—dictus magiſter Jacobus Preſton, quaſdam procuratorias literas mag. Richardi Mayewe preſidentis, ut aſſeruit, collegii beate Marie Magdalene, &c. ſigillo rotundo communi, &c. in cera rubea impreſſo ſigillatas realiter exhibuit, &c. et pro eiſdem dnis ſuis, &c. fecit ſe partem, ac nobis ſupplicavit ut juxta [406] formam in eiſdem traditam procedere dignaremur, &c."’ After theſe proclamations no contradictor or abjector appearing—‘"ad inſtantem petitionem ipſius mag. Jac. Preſton, procuratoris, &c. procedendum fore decrevimus vocatis jure vocandis; nec non mag. Tho. Somercotes, &c. in actorum noſtrorum ſcribam nominavimus. Conſequenter et ibidem tunc comparuit magiſter Michael Clyff, &c. et exhibuit in ea parte procuratorium ſuum,"’ for the prior and convent of the cathedral of Winton, ‘"et fecit ſe partem pro eiſdem.—Deinde comperuit coram nobis, &c. honeſtus vir Willmus Cowper,"’ proctor for the biſhop as patron of the Priory of Selborne, and exhibited his ‘"procuratorium, &c."’ After theſe were read in the preſence of Clyff and Cowper, ‘"Preſton, viva voce,"’ petitioned the commiſſary to annex and appropriate the Priory of Selborne to the college—‘"propter quod fructus, redditus, et proventus ejuſdem coll. adeo tenues ſunt, et exiles, quod ad ſuſtentationem ejus, &c. non ſufficiunt."’—The commiſſary, ‘"ad libellandum et articulandum in ſcriptis"’—adjourned the court to the 5th of Auguſt, then to be held again in the pariſh church of Esſher.

W. Cowper being then abſent, Radulphus Langley appeared for the biſhop, and was admitted his proctor. Preſton produced his libel or article in ſcriptis for the union, &c. ‘"et admitti petiit eundem cum effectu; cujus libelli tenor ſequitur.—In Dei nomine, Amen. Coram nobis venerabili in Chriſto patre Richardo, priore, &c. de Novo Loco, &c. commiſſario, &c."’ Part of the college of Magd. dicit. allegat, and in his ‘"ſcriptis proponit, &c."’

[407] ‘"Imprimis—that ſaid college conſiſts of a preſident and eighty ſcholars, beſides ſixteen choriſters, thirteen ſervientes inibi altiſſimo famulantibus, et in ſcientiis pleriſque liberalibus, preſertim in ſacra theologia ſtudentibus, nedum ad ipſorum preſidentis et ſcholarium pro preſenti et impoſterum, annuente deo, incorporandorum in eodem relevamen; verum etiam ad omnium et ſingulorum tam ſcholarium quam religioſorum cujuſcunque ordinis undequaque illuc confluere pro ſalubri doctrina volentium utilitatem multiplicem ad incrementa virtutis fideique catholice ſtabilimentum. Ita videlicet quod omnes et ſinguli abſque perſonarum ſeu nationum delectu illuc accedere volentes, lecturas publicas et doctrinas tam in grammatica in loco ad collegium contiguo, ac philoſophiis morali et naturali, quam in ſacra theologia in eodem collegio perpetuis temporibus continuandas libere atque gratis audire valeant et poſſint, ad laudem gloriam et honorem Dei, &c. extitit fundatum et ſtabilitum."’

For the firſt item in this proceſs ſee the beginning of this letter. Then follows item the ſecond—‘"that the revenues of the college non ſufficiunt his diebus."’ ‘"Item—that the premiſſes are true, &c. et ſuper eiſdem laborarunt, et laborant publica vox et ſama. Unde ſacta ſide petit pars eorundem that the Priory be annexed to the college: ita quod dicto prioratu vacante liceat iis ex tunc to take poſſeſſion, &c."’ This libel, with the expreſs conſent of the other procters, we, the commiſſary, admitted, and appointed the ſixth of Auguſt for proctor Preſton to prove the premiſſes.

Preſton produced witneſſes, W. Gyfford, S.T.P. John Nele, A.M. John Chapman, chaplain, and Robert Baron, literatus, who were admitted and ſworn, when the court was prorogued to the 6th of [408] Auguſt; and the witneſſes, on the ſame 5th of Auguſt, were examined by the commiſſary, ‘"in capella infra manerium de Esſher ſituata, ſecrete et ſingillatim."’ Then follow the ‘"literae procuratoriae:"’ firſt that of the college, appointing Preſton and Langport their proctors, dated Auguſt 30th, 1484; then that of the prior and convent of the cathedral of Wintōn, appointing David Huſband and Michael Cleve, dated September 4th, 1484: then that of the biſhop, appointing W. Gyfford, Radulphus Langley, and Will. Cowper, dated September 3d, 1484. Conſec. 38o.—‘"Quo die adveniente in dicta eccleſia parochiali,"’ appeared ‘"coram nobis"’ James Preſton to prove the contents of his libel, and exhibited ſome letters teſtimonial with the ſeal of the biſhop, and theſe were admitted; and conſequenter Preſton produced two witneſſes, viz. Dominum Thomam Aſhforde nuper priorem dicti prioratus, et Willm. Rabbys literatum, who were admitted and ſworn, and examined as the others, by the commiſſary; ‘"tunc & ibidem aſſiſtente ſcriba ſecrete & ſingillatim;"’ and their depoſitions were read and made public, as follows:

Mr. W. Gyfford, S.T.P. aged 57, of the ſtate of Magd. Coll. &c. &c. as before:

Mr. John Nele, aged 57, proves the articles alſo:

Robert Baron, aged 56:

Johannes Chapman, aged 35, alſo affirmed all the five articles:

Dompnus Thomas Aſhforde, aged 72 years—‘"dicit 2dum. 3um. 4um. articulos in eodem libello contentos, concernentes ſtatum dicti prioratus de Selebourne, ſuiſſe et eſſe veros."’

W. Rabbys, aetat 40 ann. agrees with Gyfford, &c.

Then follows the letter from the biſhop, ‘"in ſubſidium probationis,"’ abovementioned—‘"Willmus, &c. ſalutem, &c. noverint univerſitas veſtra, quod licet nos prioratui de Selebourne, &c. pie compacientes ſollicitudines paſtorales, labores, [409] diligentias quam plurimas per nos & commiſſarios noſtros pro reformatione ſtatus ejus impenderimus, juſticia id poſcente; nihilominus tamen,"’ &c. as in the article—to ‘"deſperatur,"’ dated ‘"in manerio noſtro de Esſher, Aug. 3d, 1485, & conſec. 39."’ Then, on the 6th of Auguſt, Preſton, in the preſence of the other proctors, required that they ſhould be compelled to anſwer; when they all allowed the articles ‘"fuiſſe & eſſe vera;"’ and the commiſſary, at the requeſt of Preſton, concluded the buſineſs, and appointed Monday, Auguſt 8th, for giving his decree in the ſame church of Esſher; and it was that day read, and contains a recapitulation, with the ſentence of union, &c. witneſſed and atteſted.

As ſoon as the preſident and fellows of Magdalen college had obtained the deciſion of the commiſſary in their favour, they proceeded to ſupplicate the pope, and to entreat his holineſs that he would give his ſanction to the ſentence of union. Some difficulties were ſtarted at Rome; but they were ſurmounted by the college agent, as appears by his letters from that city. At length pope Innocent VIII. by a bull a bearing date the 8th day of June, in the year of our Lord 1486, and in the ſecond year of his pontificate, confirmed what had been done, and ſuppreſſed the convent.

Thus fell the conſiderable and well-endowed Priory of Selborne after it had ſubſiſted about two hundred and fifty-four years: about ſeventy-four years after the ſuppreſſion of Priories alien by Henry V. and about fifty years before the general diſſolution of monaſteries by Henry VIII. The founder, it is probable, had [410] fondly imagined that the ſacredneſs of the inſtitution, and the pious motives on which it was eſtabliſhed, might have preſerved it inviolate to the end of time—yet it fell,

"To teach us that God attributes to place
"No ſanctity, if none be thither brought
"By men, who there frequent, or therein dwell."
Milton's Paradiſe Loſt.

LETTER XXV.

WAINFLEET did not long enjoy the ſatisfaction ariſing from this new acquiſition; but departed this life in a few months after he had effected the union of the Priory with his late founded college; and was ſucceeded in the ſee of Wincheſter by Peter Courtney, ſome time towards the end of the year 1486.

In the beginning of the following year the new biſhop releaſed the preſident and fellows of Magdalen College from all actions reſpecting the Priory of Selborne; and the prior and convent of Saint Swithun, as the chapter of Wincheſter cathedral, confirmed the releaſea.

N. 293. ‘"Relaxatio Petri epi Wintōn Ricardo Mayew, Preſidenti omnium actionum occaſione indempnitatis ſibi debite pro unione Prioratus de Selborne dicto collegio. Jan. 2. 1487. et tranſlat. anno 1o."’

N. 374. ‘"Relaxatio prioris et conventus Sti. Swithini Wintōn confirmans relaxationem Petri ep. Winton."’ 1487. Jan. 13.

[411] Asſhforde, the depoſed prior, who had appeared as an evidence for the impropriation of the Priory at the age of ſeventy-two years, that he might not be deſtitute of a maintenance, was penſioned by the college to the day of his death; and was living on till 1490, as appears by his acquittances.

REG. A. ff. 46.

"Omnibus Chriſti fidelibus ad quos preſens ſcriptum pervenerit, Richardus Mayew, preſidens, &c. et ſcolares, ſalutem in Domino."

‘"Noveritis nos prefatos preſidentem et ſcolares dediſſe, conceſſiſſe, et hoc preſenti ſcripto confirmaſſe Thome Asſhforde, capellano, quendam annualem redditum ſex librarum treſdecim ſolidorum et quatuor denariorum bone et legalis monete Anglie—ad terminum vite prefati Thome"’—to be paid from the poſſeſſions of the college in Baſingſtoke.‘"In cujus rei teſtimonium ſigillum noſtrum commune preſentibus apponimus. Dat. Oxon. in coll. noſtro ſupra dicto primo die menſis Junii anno regis Ricardi tertii ſecundo."’ viz. 1484. The college, in their grant to Asſhforde, ſtyle him only capellanus; but the annuitant very naturally, and with a becoming dignity, aſſerts his late title in his acquittances, and identifies himſelf by the addition of nuper priorem, or late prior.

As, according to the perſuaſion of the times, the depriving the founder and benefactors of the Priory of their maſſes and ſervices would have been deemed the moſt impious of frauds, biſhop Wainfleet, having by ſtatute ordained four obits for himſelf to be celebrated in the chapel of Magdalen College, enjoined in one of them a ſpecial collect for the anniverſary of Peter de Rupibus, with a particular prayer—"Deus Indulgentiarum."

[412] The college alſo ſent Nicholas Langriſh, who had been a chantry prieſt at Selborne, to celebrate maſs for the ſouls of all that had been benefactors to the ſaid Priory and college, and for all the faithful who had departed this life.

N. 356. Thomas Knowles, preſidens, &c.—‘"damus et concedimus Nicholao Langriſh quandum capellaniam, vel ſalarium, five alio quocunque nomine cenſeatur, in prioratu quondam de Selborne pro termino 40 annorum, ſi tam diu vixerit. Ubi dictus magr. Nicholaus celebrabit pro animabus omnium benefactorum dicti prioratus et coll. noſtri, et omnium fidelium defunctorum. Inſuper nos, &c. concedimus eidem ibidem celebranti in ſuſtentationem ſuam quandam annualem penſionem five annuitatem octo librarum &c.—in dicta capella dicti prioratus—concedimus duas cameras contiguas ex parte boreali dicte capelle, cum una coquina, et cum uno ſtabulo conveniente pro tribus equis, cum pomerio eidem adjacente voc. le Orcheyard—Preterea 26s. 8d. per ann. ad inveniendum unum clericum ad ſerviendum ſibi ad altare, et aliis negotiis neceſſariis ejus."’—His wood to be granted him by the preſident on the progreſs.—He was not to abſent himſelf beyond a certain time; and was to ſuperintend the coppices, wood, and hedges.—‘"Dat. 5to. die Julii. ano. Hen. VIIIvi. 36o."’ [viz. 1546.]

Here we ſee the Priory in a new light, reduced as it were to the ſtate of a chantry, without prior and without canons, and attended only by a prieſt, who was alſo a ſort of bailiff or woodman, his aſſiſtant clerk, and his female cook. Owen Oglethorpe, preſident, and Magd. Coll. in the fourth year of Edward VI. viz. 1551, granted an annuity of ten pounds a year for life to Nich. Langriſh, who, from the preamble, appears then to have been fellow of that ſociety: but, being now ſuperannuated for buſineſs, this penſion is [413] granted him for thirty years, if he ſhould live ſo long. It is ſaid of him—‘"cum jam ſit provectioris etatis quam ut,"’ &c.

Laurence Stubb, preſident of Magd. Coll. leaſed out the Priory lands to John Sharp, huſbandman, for the term of twenty years, as early as the ſeventeenth year of Henry VIII.—viz. 1526: and it appears that Henry Newlyn had been in poſſeſſion of a leaſe before, probably towards the end of the reign of Henry VII. Sharp's rent was vili. per ann.—Regiſt. B. p. 43.

By an abſtract from a leaſe lying before me, it appears that Sharp found a houſe, two barns, a ſtable, and a duf-houſe, [dove-houſe] built, and ſtanding on the ſouth ſide of the old Priory, and late in the occupation of Newlyn. In this abſtract alſo are to be ſeen the names of all the fields, many of which continue the ſame to this dayb. Of ſome of them I ſhall take notice, where any thing ſingular occurs.

And here firſt we meet with Paradyſs [Paradiſe] mede. Every convent had it's Paradiſe; which probably was an encloſed orchard, pleaſantly laid out, and planted with fruit-trees.—Tyle-houſe grove, ſo diſtinguiſhed from having a tiled houſe near itc. [414] Butt-wood cloſe; here the ſervants of the Priory and the villageſwains exerciſed themſelves with their long bows, and ſhot at a mark againſt a butt, or bankd.—Cundyth [conduit] wood: the engroſſer of the leaſe not underſtanding this name has made a ſtrange barbarous word of it. Conduit-wood was and is a ſteep, rough cow-paſture, lying above the Priory, at about a quarter of a mile to the ſouth-weſt. In the ſide of this field there is a ſpring of water that never fails; at the head of which a ciſtern was built which communicated with leaden pipes that conveyed water to the monaſtery. When this reſervoir was firſt conſtructed does not appear, we only know that it underwent a repair in the epiſcopate of biſhop Wainfleet, about the year 1462e. Whether theſe pipes only conveyed the water to the Priory for common and culinary purpoſes, or contributed to any matters of ornament and elegance, we ſhall not pretend to ſay; nor when artiſts and mechanics firſt underſtood any thing of hydraulics, and that water confined in tubes would riſe to it's original level. There is a perſon now living who had been employed formerly in digging for theſe pipes, and once diſcovered ſeveral yards, which they ſold for old lead.

There was alſo a plot of ground called Tan-houſe garden: and "Tannaria ſua," a tan-yard of their own, has been mentioned in Letter XVI. This circumſtance I juſt take notice of, as an inſtance that monaſteries had trades and occupations carried on within themſelvesf.

[415] Regiſtr. B. pag. 112. Here we find a leaſe of the parſonage of Selborne to Thomas Sylveſter and Miles Arnold, huſbandmen—of the tythes of all manner of corne pertaining to the parſonage—with the offerings at the chapel of Whaddon belonging to the ſaid parſonage. Dat. June 1. 27th. Hen. 8th. [viz. 1536.]

As the chapel of Whaddon has never been mentioned till now, and as it is not noticed by biſhop Tanner in his Notitia Monaſtica, ſome more particular account of it will be proper in this place. Whaddon was a chapel of eaſe to the mother church of Selborne, and was ſituated in the tithing of Oakhanger, at about two miles diſtance from the village. The farm and field whereon it ſtood are ſtill called chapel farm and field g: but there are no remains or traces of the building itſelf, the very foundations having been deſtroyed before the memory of man. In a farm yard at Oakhanger we remember a large hollow ſtone of a cloſe ſubſtance, which had been uſed as a hog-trough, but was then broken. This ſtone, tradition ſaid, had been the baptiſmal font of Whaddon chapel. The chapel had been in a very ruinous ſtate in old days; but was new-built at the inſtance of biſhop Wainfleet, about the year 1463, during the firſt priorſhip of Berne, in conſequence of a ſequeſtration iſſued forth by that viſitor againſt the Priory on account of notorious and ſhameful dilapidationsh.

[416] The Selborne rivulet becomes of ſome breadth at Oakhanger, and, in very wet ſeaſons, ſwells to a large flood. There is a bridge over the ſtream at this hamlet of conſiderable antiquity and peculiar ſhape, known by the name of Tunbridge: it conſiſts of one ſingle blunt gothic arch, ſo high and ſharp as to render the paſſage not very convenient or ſafe. Here was alſo, we find, a bridge in very early times; for Jacobus de Hochangre, the firſt benefactor to the Priory of Selborne, held his eſtate at Hochangre by the ſervice of providing the king one foot-ſoldier for forty days, and by building this bridge. ‘"Jacobus de Hochangre tenet Hochangre in com. Southampton, per Serjantiam i, inveniendi unum valectum in exercitu Domini regis [ſcil. Henrici IIItii.] per 40 dies; et ad faciendum pontem de Hochangre: et valet per ann. C. s."’ Blount's Ancient Tenures, p. 84.

A dove-houſe was a conſtant appendant to a manerial dwelling: of this convenience more will be ſaid hereafter.

A corn-mill was alſo eſteemed a neceſſary appendage of every manor; and therefore was to be expected of courſe at the Priory of Selborne.

The prior had ſecta molendini, or ad molendinum k; a power of compelling his vaſſals to bring their corn to be ground at his mill, according to old cuſtom. He had alſo, according to biſhop Tanner, ſecta molendini de Strete: but the purport of Strete, we muſt confeſs, we do not underſtand. Strete, in old Engliſh, ſignifies a road or highway, as Watling Strete, &c. therefore the prior might [417] have ſome mill on a high road. The Priory had only one mill originally at Selborne; but, by grants of lands, it came poſſeſſed of one at Durton, and one at Oakhanger, and probably ſome on it's other ſeveral manorsl. The mill at the Priory was in uſe within the memory of man, and the ruins of the mill-houſe were ſtanding within theſe thirty years: the pond and dam, and miller's dwelling, ſtill remain. As the ſtream was apt to fail in very dry ſummers, the tenants found their ſituation very diſtreſſing, for want of water, and ſo were forced to abandon the ſpot. This inconvenience was probably never felt in old times, when the whole diſtrict was nothing but woodlands: and yet ſeveral centuries ago there ſeem to have been two or three mills between Well-head and the Priory. For the reaſon of this aſſertion, ſee Letter XXIX. to Mr. Barrington.

Occaſional mention has been made of the many privileges and immunities enjoyed by the convent and it's priors; but a more particular ſtate ſeems to be neceſſary. The author therefore thinks this the proper place, before he concludes theſe antiquities, to introduce all that has been collected by the judicious biſhop Tanner, reſpecting the Priory and it's advantages, in his Notitia Monaſtica, a book now ſeldom ſeen, on account of the extravagance of it's price; and being but in few hands cannot be eaſily conſultedm. He alſo adds a few of it's many privileges from other authorities:—the account is as follows. Tanner, page 166.

[418] SELEBURNE.

A priory of black canons, founded by the often-mentioned Peter de Repibus, biſhop of Wincheſter, A.D. 1233, and dedicated to the bleſſed Virgin Mary: but was ſuppreſſed—and granted to William Wainfleet, biſhop of Wincheſter, who made it part of the endowment of St. Mary Magdalene College in Oxford. The biſhops of Wincheſter were patrons of it. [Pat. 17. Edw. II.] Vide in Mon. Angl. tom. II. p. 343. ‘"Cartam fundationis ex ipſo autographo in archivis Coll. Magd. Oxōn. ubi etiam conſervata ſunt regiſtra, cartae, rentalia et alia munimenta ad hunc prioratum ſpectantia.’

‘"Extracta quaedam e regiſtro MSS. in bibl. Bodl. Dodſworth, vol. 89. f. 140.’

‘"Cart. antiq. N. N. n. 33. P. P. n. 48. et 71. Q. Q. n. 40. plac. coram juſtit. itin. [Southampton] 20 Hen. rot. 25. De eccl. de Baſing, & Baſingſtoke. Plac. de juratis apud Winton. 40 Hen. III. rot.—Proſecta molendini de Strete. Cart. 54. Hen. III m. 3. [De mercatu, & feria apud Seleborne, a miſtake.] Pat. 9. Edw. I. m.—Pat. 30. Edw. I. m.—Pat. 33. Edw. I. p. 1. m.—Pat. 35. Edw. I. m.—Pat. 1. Edw. II. p. 1. m. 9. Pat. 5. Edw. II. p. 1. m. 21. De terris in Achanger. Pat. 6. Edw. II. p. 1. m. 7. de eiſdem. Brev. in Scacc. 6. Edw. II. Paſch. rot. 8. Pat. 17. Edw. II. p. 1. m.—Cart. 10. Edw. III. n. 24. Quod terrae ſuae in Seleburn, Achangre, Norton, Baſings, Baſingſloke, and Nately, ſint de afforeſtatae, and pro aliis libertatibus. Pat. 12. Edw. III. p. 3. m. 3.—Pat. 13. Edw. III. p. 1. m.—Cart. 18. Edw. III. n. 24."’

[419] ‘"N. N. 33. Rex conceſſit quod prior, et canonici de Seleburn habeant per terras ſuas de Seleburne, Achangre, Norton, Brompden, Baſinges, Baſingſtoke, & Nately, diverſas libertates.’

‘"P. P. 48. Quod prior de Seleburne, habeat terras ſuas quietas de vaſto, et regardo."’ Extracts from Ayloffe's Calendars of Ancient Charters.

‘"Placita de juratis & aſſis coram Salōm de Roff, & ſociis ſuis juſtic. itiner. apud Wynton in comitatu Sutht.—anno regni R. Edvardi filii reg. Henr. octavo.—Et Por de Seleborn ht in Selebr. fure. thurſet. pillory, emendasse panis, & ſuis."’ [cereviſiae.]—Chapter-houſe Weſtminſter.

‘"Placita Foreſte apud Wyntōn in com. Sutham.—Anno reg. Edwardi octavo coram Rog. de Clifford.—&c. Juſtic. ad eadem placita audienda et tminand. aſſigtis.

‘"Carta Pror de Seleburn, H. Dei gra. rex. angl. &c. Conceſſim. prior. ſce. Marie de Seleburn. et canonicis ibidem Deo ſervient.—q ipi et oes hoies ſui in pdcis terris ſuis et tenementis manentes ſint in ppetum quieti de ſectis Swanemotor. et omnium alior. placitor. for. et de eſpeltamentis canum. et de omnibus ſubmonitoibz. placitis querelis et exaccoibus et occoibz. ad for. et for. et viridar. et eor. miniſtros ptinentibz."’ Chapter-houſe, Weſtminſter.

‘"Plita Foreſtarum in com. Sutht. apud Suthamton—anno regni regis Edwardi tcii poſt conqueſtum quarto coram Johe Mantvers. &c. juſtic. itinand. &c.’

De hiis qui clamant libtates infra Foreſtas in com. Sutht.

‘"Prior de Selebourne clamat eſſe quietus erga dnm regem de omnibus finibus et amerciamentis p tnſgr. et omnibus exaccoibz ad Dom. regem vel hered. ſuos ptinent. pret. plita corone reg.’

[420] ‘"Item clamat qd ſi aliquis hominum ſuorum de terris et ten. p. delicto ſuo vitam aut membrum debeat amittere vel fugiat, & judico ſtare noluerit vel aliud delictum fecit pro quo debeat catella ſua amittere, ubicun (que) juſtitia fieri debeat omnia catella illa ſint ptci Prioris et ſucceſſor. ſuor. Et liceat eidem priori et ballis ſuis ponere ſe in ſeiſinam in hujuſmodi catall. in caſibus pdcis ſine diſturbacone ballivor. dni reg. quorumcunque.’

‘"Item clam. quod licet aliqua libtatum p dnm regem conceſſar. pceſſu temporis quocun (que) caſu contingente uſi non fuerint, nlominus poſtea eadm libtate uti poſſit. Et pdcus prior queſitus p juſtic. quo waranto clamat omn. terr. et ten. ſua in Seleburne, Norton, Baſynges, Baſyngeſtoke, & Nattele, que prior domus pdte huit & tenuit Xmo. die April anno regni dni Hen. reg. pavi dni reg. nue XVIII. imppm eſſe quieta de vaſto et regardo, et viſu foreſtarior. et viridarior. regardator. et omnium miniſtrorum foreſte."’ &c. &c.—Chapter-houſe, Weſtminſter.

LETTER XXVI.

[421]

THOUGH the evidences and documents of the Priory and pariſh of Selborne are now at an end, yet, as the author has ſtill ſeveral things to ſay reſpecting the preſent ſtate of that convent and it's Grange, and other matters, he does not ſee how he can acquit himſelf of the ſubject without treſpaſſing again on the patience of the reader by adding one ſupplementary letter.

No ſooner did the Priory (perhaps much out of repair at the time) become an appendage to the college, but it muſt at once have tended to ſwift decay. Magdalen College wanted now only two chambers for the chantry prieſt and his aſſiſtant; and therefore had no occaſion for the hall, dormitory, and other ſpacious apartments belonging to ſo large a foundation. The roofs neglected, would ſoon become the poſſeſſion of daws and owls; and, being rotted and decayed by the weather, would fall in upon the floors; ſo that all parts muſt have haſtened to ſpeedy dilapidation and a ſcene of broken ruins. Three full centuries have now paſſed ſince the diſſolution; a ſeries of years that would craze the ſtouteſt edifices. But, beſides the ſlow hand of time, many circumſtances have contributed to level this venerable ſtructure with the ground; of which nothing now remains but one piece of a wall of about ten feet long, and as many feet high, which probably was part of an out-houſe. As early as the latter end of the reign of Hen. VII. [422] we find that a farm-houſe and two barns were built to the ſouth of the Priory, and undoubtedly out of it's materials. Avarice again has much contributed to the overthrow of this ſtately pile, as long as the tenants could make money of it's ſtones or timbers. Wantonneſs, no doubt, has had a ſhare in the demolition; for boys love to deſtroy what men venerate and admire. A remarkable inſtance of this propenſity the writer can give from his own knowledge. When a ſchoolboy, more than fifty years ago, he was eye-witneſs, perhaps a party concerned, in the undermining a portion of that fine old ruin at the north end of Baſingſtoke town, well known by the name of Holy Ghoſt Chapel. Very providentially the vaſt fragment, which theſe thoughtleſs little engineers endeavoured to ſap, did not give way ſo ſoon as might have been expected; but it fell the night following, and with ſuch violence that it ſhook the very ground, and, awakening the inhabitants of the neighbouring cottages, made them ſtart up in their beds as if they had felt an earthquake. The motive for this dangerous attempt does not ſo readily appear: perhaps the more danger the more honour, thought the boys; and the notion of doing ſome miſchief gave a zeſt to the enterprize. As Dryden ſays upon an other occaſion,

"It look'd ſo like a ſin it pleas'd the more."

Had the Priory been only levelled to the ſurface of the ground, the diſcerning eye of an antiquary might have aſcertained it's ichnography, and ſome judicious hand might have developed it's dimenſions. But, beſides other ravages, the very foundations have been torn up for the repair of the highways: ſo that the ſite of this convent is now become a rough, rugged paſture-field, full of [423] hillocks and pits, choaked with nettles, and dwarf-elder, and trampled by the feet of the ox and the heifer.

As the tenant at the Priory was lately digging among the foundations, for materials to mend the highways, his labourers diſcovered two large ſtones, with which the farmer was ſo pleaſed that he ordered them to be taken out whole. One of theſe proved to be a large Doric capital, worked in good taſte; and the other a baſe of a pillar; both formed out of the ſoft freeſtone of this diſtrict. Theſe ornaments, from their dimenſions, ſeem to have belonged to maſſive columns; and ſhew that the church of this convent was a large and coſtly edifice. They were found in the ſpace which has always been ſuppoſed to have contained the ſouth tranſept of the Priory church. Some fragments of large pilaſters were alſo found at the ſame time. The diameter of the capital was two feet three inches and an half; and of the column, where it had ſtood on the baſe, eighteen inches and three quarters.

Two years ago ſome labourers digging again among the ruins founded a ſort of rude thick vaſe or urn of ſoft ſtone, containing about two gallons in meaſure, on the verge of the brook, in the very ſpot which tradition has always pointed out as having been the ſite of the convent kitchen. This clumſy utenſiln, whether intended for holy water, or whatever purpoſe, we were going to procure, but found that the labourers had juſt broken it in pieces, and carried it out on the highways.

[424] The Priory of Selborne had poſſeſſed in this village a Grange, an uſual appendage to manerial eſtates, where the fruits of their lands were ſtowed and laid up for uſe, at a time when men took the natural produce of their eſtates in kind. The manſion of this ſpot is ſtill called the Grange, and is the manor-houſe of the convent poſſeſſions in this place. The author has converſed with very ancient people who remembered the old original Grange; but it has long given place to a modern farm-houſe. Magdalen College holds a court-leet and court-barono in the great wheat-barn of the ſaid Grange, annually, where the Preſident uſually ſuperintends, attended by the burſar and ſteward of the college.p

The following uncommon preſentment at the court is not unworthy of notice. There is on the ſouth ſide of the king's field, (a large common-field ſo called) a conſiderable tumulus, or hillock, now covered with thorns and buſhes, and known by the name of Kite's Hill, which is preſented, year by year, in court as not ploughed. Why this injunction is ſtill kept up reſpecting this ſpot, which is ſurrounded on all ſides by arable land, may be a queſtion not eaſily ſolved, ſince the uſage has long ſurvived the knowledge of the intention thereof. We can only ſuppoſe that as the prior, beſides thurſet and pillory, had alſo furcas, a power of life and death, that he might have reſerved this little eminence as the place of execution for delinquents. And there is the more reaſon to ſuppoſe ſo, ſince a ſpot juſt by is called Gally [Gallows] hill.

[425] The lower part of the village next the Grange, in which is a pond and a ſtream, is well known by the name of Gracious ſtreet, an appellation not at all underſtood. There is a lake in Surrey, near Chobham, called alſo Gracious-pond: and another, if we miſtake not, near Hedleigh, in the county of Hants. This ſtrange denomination we do not at all comprehend, and conclude that it may be a corruption from ſome Saxon word, itſelf perhaps forgotten.

It has been obſerved already, that Biſhop Tanner was miſtaken when he refers to an evidence of Dodſworth ‘"De mercatu et FERIA de Seleburne."’ Selborne never had a chartered fair; the preſent fair was ſet up ſince the year 1681, by a ſet of jovial fellows, who had found in an old almanack that there had been a fair here in former days on the firſt of Auguſt; and were deſirous to revive ſo joyous a feſtival. Againſt this innovation the vicar ſet his face, and perſiſted in crying it down, as the probable occaſion of much intemperance. However the fair prevailed; but was altered to the twenty-ninth of May, becauſe the former day often interfered with wheat-harveſt. On that day it ſtill continues to be held, and is become an uſeful mart for cows and calves. Moſt of the lower houſe-keepers brew beer againſt this holiday, which is dutied by the exciſeman; and their becoming victuallers for the day without a licenſe is overlooked.

Monaſteries enjoyed all ſorts of conveniencies within themſelves. Thus at the Priory, a low and moiſt ſituation, there were ponds and ſtews for their fiſh: at the ſame place alſo, and at the Grange c in Culver-croft, there were dove-houſes; and on the hill oppoſite to the Grange the prior had a warren, as the names of The Coney-crofts and Coney-croft Hanger plainly teſtifyd.

[426] Nothing has been ſaid as yet reſpecting the tenure or holding of the Selborne eſtates. Temple and Norton are manor farms and freehold; as is the manor of Chapel near Oakhanger, and alſo the eſtate at Oakhanger-houſe and Black-moor. The Priory and Grange are leaſehold under Magdalen college, for twenty-one years, renewable every ſeven: all the ſmaller eſtates in and round the village are copyhold of inheritance under the college, except the little remains of the Gurdon-manor, which had been of old leaſed out upon lives, but have been freed of late by their preſent lord, as faſt as thoſe lives have dropped.

Selborne ſeems to have derived much of it's proſperity from the near neighbourhood of the Priory. For monaſteries were of conſiderable advantage to places where they had their ſites and eſtates, by cauſing great reſort, by procuring markets and fairs, by freeing them from the cruel oppreſſion of foreſt-laws, and by letting their lands at eaſy rates. But, as ſoon as the convent was ſuppreſſed, the town which it had occaſioned began to decline, and the market was leſs frequented; the rough and ſequeſtered ſituation gave a check to reſort, and the neglected roads rendered it leſs and leſs acceſſible.

That it had been a conſiderable place for ſize formerly appears from the largeneſs of the church, which much exceeds thoſe of the neighbouring villages; by the ancient extent of the burying ground, which, from human bones occaſionally dug up, is found to have been much encroached upon; by giving a name to the hundred; by the old foundations and ornamented ſtones, and tracery of windows that have been diſcovered on the north-eaſt ſide of the village; and by the many veſtiges of diſuſed fiſh-ponds ſtill to be ſeen around it. For ponds and ſtews were multiplied in the times of popery, that the affluent might enjoy ſome [427] variety at their tables on faſt days; therefore the more they abounded the better probably was the condition of the inhabitants.

More PARTICULARS reſpecting the OLD FAMILY TORTOISE, omitted in the Natural Hiſtory.

BECAUSE we call this creature an abject reptile, we are too apt to undervalue his abilities, and depreciate his powers of inſtinct. Yet he is, as Mr. Pope ſays of his lord,

— "Much too wiſe to walk into a well:"

and has ſo much diſcernment as not to fall down an haha; but to ſtop and withdraw from the brink with the readieſt precaution.

Though he loves warm weather he avoids the hot ſun; becauſe his thick ſhell, when once heated, would, as the poet ſays of ſolid armour—‘"ſcald with ſafety."’ He 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 [428] warmth*, he inclines his ſhell, by tilting it againſt the wall, to collect and admit every feeble ray.

Pitiable ſeems the condition of this poor embarraſſed 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 enterprize. Yet there is a ſeaſon of the year (uſually the beginning of June) when his exertions are remarkable. He then walks on tiptoe, and is ſtirring by five in the morning; and, traverſing the garden, examines every wicket and interſtice in the fences, through which he will eſcape if poſſible: and often has eluded the care of the gardener, and wandered to ſome diſtant field. The motives that impel him to undertake theſe rambles ſeem to be of the amorous kind: his fancy then becomes intent on ſexual attachments, which tranſport him beyond his uſual gravity, and induce him to forget for a time his ordinary ſolemn deportment.

ADDITIONS TO LETTER XLI, page 236.

[429]

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 foetidus and helleborus niger blowing at Chriſtmas, the helleborus hycmalis 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 difference in the corolla, or in the internal ſtructure. Yet the vernal crocus expands it's flowers by the beginning of March at fartheſt, and often in very rigorous weather; and cannot be retarded but by ſome violence offered:—while the autumnal (the Saffron) defies the inſluence of the ſpring and ſummer, and will not blow till moſt plants begin to ſade and run to ſeed. This circumſtance is one of the wonders of the creation, little noticed, becauſe a common occurrence; yet ought not to be overlooked on account [430] of it's being familiar, ſince it would be as difficult to be explained as the moſt ſtupendous phaenomenon in nature.

Say, what impels, amidſt ſurrounding ſnow
Congeal'd, the crocus' flamy bud to glow?
Say, what retards, amidſt the ſummer's blaze,
Th' autumnal bulb, till pale, declining days?
The 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.

Appendix A APPENDIX,

[431]

Appendix A.1 No. I.

No.6
II.

Appendix A.1.1 Carta Petri et conventus eccleſie Winton. pro fundatione prioratus de Seleburne, &c. dat. 1233.

OMNIBUS Chriſti fidelibus ad quos preſens ſcriptum pervenerit. P. divina miſeracione Wintōn eccleſie miniſter humilis ſalutem in Domino: Ex officio paſtorali tenemur viros religioſos, qui pauperes ſpiritu eſſe pro Chriſto neglectis lucris temporalibus elegerunt; ſpirituali affectu diligere, fovere pariter et creare, eorum (que) quieti ſollicite providere; ut tanto uberiores fructus de continua in lege Dei meditatione percipiant, quanto a conturbationibus malignorum amplius fuerint ex patroni proviſione et eccleſiaſtica defenſione ſecuri. Hinc eſt quod univerſitati veſtre notificamus, nos divine caritatis inſtinctu, de aſſenſu conventus eccleſie noſtre Wintōn, fundaſſe domum religioſam, ordinis magni patris Auguſtini, in honore Dei et glorioſe ſemper virginis ejuſdem Dei genetricis [432] Marie, apud Seleburne; ibidemque canonicos regulares inſtituiſſe: ad quorum ſuſtentationem et hoſpitum et pauperum ſuſceptionem, dedimus, conceſſimus, et preſenti carta noſtra confirmavimus eiſdem canonicis, totam terram quam habuimus de dono Jacobi de Acangre: et totam terram, curſum aque, boſcum et pratum que habuimus de dono Jacobi de Nortone; et totam terram boſcum et redditum que habuimus de dono domini Henrici regis Anglie; cum omnibus predictarum poſſeſſionum pertinentiis. Dedimus etiam et conceſſimus in proprios uſus eiſdem canonicis eccleſiam predicte ville de Seleburne, et eccleſias de Baſing, et de Baſingeſtok, cum omnibus earundem eccleſiarum capellis, libertatibus, et aliis pertinenciis; ſalva honeſta et ſufficienti ſuſtentatione vicariorum in predictis eccleſiis miniſtrantium; quorum preſentatio ad priorem predicte domus religioſe de Seleburne et canonicos ejuſdem loci in perpetuum pertinebit. Preterea poſſeſſiones et redditus, eccleſias ſive decimas, quas in epiſcopatu noſtro adempti ſunt, vel in poſterum, Deo dante, juſtis modis poterunt adipiſci, ſub noſtra et Wintōn eccleſie protectione ſuſcepimus, et epiſcopalis auctoritate officii confirmavimus; eadem auctoritate firmiter inhibentes, ne quis locum, in quo divino ſunt officio mancipati, ſeu alias eorum poſſeſſiones, invadere vi vel fraude vel ingenio malo occupare audeat, vel etiam retinere, aut fratres converſos, ſervientes, vel homines eorum aliqua violentia perturbare, five fugientes ad eos cauſa ſalutis ſue conſervande a ſeptis domus ſue violenter preſumat extraere. Precipimus autem ut in eadem domo religioſa de Seleburne ordo canonicus, et regularis converſatio, ſecundum regulam magni patris Auguſtini, quam primi inhabitatores profeſſi ſunt, in perpetuum obſervetur; et ipſa domus religioſa a cujuſlibet alterius domus religioſe ſubjectione libera permaneat, et in omnibus abſoluta; ſalva in [433] omnibus epiſcopali auctoritate, et Wintōn eccleſie dignitate. Quod ut in noſterum ratum permaneat et inconcuſſum, preſenti ſcripto et ſigilli noſtri patrocinis duximus confirmandum. His teſtibus domino Waltero abbate de Hyda. Domino Walters Priore de ſancto Swithuno, domino Stephano priore de Motesfonte, magiſtro Alano de Stoke; magiſtro Willo de ſancte Marie eccleſia, tune officiali noſtro; Luca archidiacon' de ſurr'. magiſtro Humfrido de Millers, Henrico & Hugone capellanis, Roberto de Clinchamp, et Petro Roſſinol clericis, et multis aliis. Datum apud Wlnes a per manum P. de cancellis. In die ſanctorum martirum Fabiani et Sebaſtiani. Anno Domi milleſimo ducenteſimo triceſimo tercio.

Seal, two ſaints and a biſhop praying:

Legend: SVI. M. SITE. BONI. PETR' PAVL' E PATRONI.’

Appendix A.2 NUMBER II.

[434]
III.
(Ni 108.)

Appendix A.2.1 Carta petens licentiam eligendi prelatum a Domino Epiſcopo Wintonienſi.

Appendix A.2.1.1 Defuncto prelato forma petendi licentiam eligendi.

DOMINO et patri in Chriſto reverendo domino & P. Dei gratia Wintonienſi epiſcopo, devoti ſui filii ſupprior monaſterii de S. Wintonienſis dioceſeos ſalutem cum ſubjectione humili, reverentiam, et honorem. Monaſterio noſtro de S. in quo ſub protectione veſtra vivimus, ſub habitu regulari, Prioris ſolacio deſtituto per mortem bone memorie, &c. quondam Prioris noſtri, qui tali hora in aurora diem clauſit extremum, veſtre paternitati reverende et dominationi precipue iſtum noſtrum et noſtri monaſterii caſum flebilem cum merore nunciamus; ad veſtre paternitatis refugium fratres noſtres A. et C. canonicos deſtinantes, rogando et petendo devote quatenus nobis dignemini licenciam tribuere, ut monaſterio predicto, Prioris regimine deſtituto, providere poſſimus, invocata Spiritus ſancti gratia, per electionem canonicam de Priore. Actum in monaſterio predicto 5 kalend. &c. anno Domini, &c. Valeat reverenda paternitas veſtra ſemper in Domino.

Appendix A.2.1.2 Forma licencie conceſſe.
[435]

P. Dei gratia Wintonienſis epiſcopus dilectis in Chriſto filiis ſuppriori et conventui talis loci ſalutem, gratiam, et benedictionem. Viduitatem monaſterii veſtri vacantis per mortem quondam R. Prioris veſtri, cujus anime propicietur altiſſimus, paterno compacientes affectu, petitam a nobis eligendi licenciam vobis concedimus, ut patronus. Datum apud, &c. 3 kalend. Jul. anno conſecrationis noſtre tertio.

Appendix A.2.1.3 Forma decreti poſt electionem conficiendi.

In nomine Domini noſtri Jheſu Chriſti, Amen. Monaſterio beate Marie talis loci Winton. dioc. ſolacio deſtituto per mortem R. quondam Prioris ipſius; ac corpore ejus, prout moris eſt, eccleſiaſtice ſepulture commendato; petita cum devocione licentia per fratres K. et. canonicos a ven: in Chriſto patre et domino domino P. Dei gratia Wintonienſi epiſcopo ejuſdem monaſterii patrono, eligendi priorem, et optenta; die dato, a toto capitulo ad eligendum vocati fuere evocandi, qui debuerunt, voluerunt, et potuerunt comode electioni prioris in monaſterio predicto intereſſe: omnes canonici in capitulo ejuſdem eccleſie convenerunt tali die, anno Dom. &c. ad tractandum de electione ſui prioris facienda; qui, invocata Spiritus Sancti gratia, ad procedendum per formam ſcrutinii concencientes.

Appendix A.2.1.4 Modus procedendi ad electionem per formam ſcrutinii.
[436]
(N. 108.)

OMNIBUS in capitulo congregatis qui debent volunt et poſſunt comode intereſſe electioni eligendi ſunt tres de capituloa non noſtro obediencias ores b, qui erunt ſcrutatores, et ſedebunt in angulo capituli; et primo requirent vota ſua propria, videlicet, duo requirent tertium et duo alterum, &c. dicendo ſic, ‘"Frater P. inquem concentis ad eligendum in prelatum noſtrum?"’ quibus examinatis, et dictis eorum per vicem ex ipſis in ſcriptura redactis, vocabunt ad ſe omnes fratres ſingillatim, primo ſuppriorem, &c. Et unus de tribus examinatoribus ſcribet dictum cujuſlibet. Celebrato ſcrutinio, publicare db coram omnibus. Facta ptmodū concenſum collectione apparebit in quem pars major capituli et ſanior concentit; quo viſo, major pars dicet minori, ‘"Cum major pars et ſanior capituli noſtri concenciat in fratrem R. ipſe eſt eligendus, unde, ſi placet, ipſum communiter eligamus;"’ fi vero omnes acquieverint, tunc ille qui majorem vocem habet in capitulo ſurgens dicet, ‘"Ego frater R. pro toto capitulo eligo fratrem R. nobis in paſtorem;"’ et omnes dicent; ‘"Placet nobis."’ Et incipient, ‘"TE DEUM LAUDAMUS."’ Si vero in unum concordare nequiverint, tunc hiis, qui majorem vocem habet inter illos qui majorem et ſaniorem partem capituli conſtituerint, dicet, ‘"Ego pro me et illis qui mecum concenciunt in fratrem R. eligo ipſum in,"’ &c. Et illi dicent, ‘"Placet nobis,"’ &c.

Appendix A.2.1.5 Forma ricte preſentandi electum.
[437]

Reverendo in Chriſto patri et domino domino P. Dei gratia Winton. epiſcopo devoti ſui filii frater R. Supprior conventualis beate Marie de tali loco, et ejuſdem loci Conventus, cum ſubjectione humili, omnem obedienciam, reverenciam, et honorem. Cum conventualis eccleſia beate Marie talis loci, in qua ſub protectione veſtra vivimus ſub habitu regulari, per mortem felicis recordationis R. quondam prioris noſtri deſtituta eccleſia priore, qui 6to kalend. Jul. in aurora anno Dom. &c. diem clauſit extremum; de corpore ejus, prout moris eſt, eccleſiaſtice tradito ſepulture; petita a vobis, tanquam a Domino, et vero ejuſdem eccleſie patrono et paſtore, licencia eligendi priorem et optenta; convenientibus omnibus canonicis predicte eccleſie in capitulo noſtro, qui voluerunt debuerunt et potuerunt comode electioni noſtre intereſſe, tali die anno Dom. fupradicto, invocata Spiritus Sancti gratia, fratrem R. de C. ejufdem eccleſie canonicum unanimi aſſenſu et voluntate in priorem noſtrum, ex puris votis ſingulorum, unanimiter eligimus. Quem reverende paternitati veſtre et dominacioni precipue Priorem vero patrono noſtro et paſtore confirmandum, ſi placet, tenore preſentium preſentamus; dignitatem veſtram humiliter et devote rogantes, quatenus, dicte electioni felicem prebere volentes aſſenſum, eidem R. electo noſtro nunc confirmabitis, et quod veſtrum eſt paſtorali ſolicitudine impendere dignemini. In cujus rei teſtimonium preſentes litteras ſigillo capituli noſtri ſignatas paternitati veſtre tranſmittimus. Valeat reverenda paternitas veſtra ſemper in Domino. Datum tali loco die et anno ſupradictis. Omnes et ſinguli, per ſratres [438] A. B. et C. ejuſdem eccleſie canonicos de voluntate tocius conventus ad inquirenda vota ſingulorum conſtitutos, ſecreto et ſingillatim requiſiti; tandem publicato ſcrutinio et facta votorum colectione inventum eſt, majorem et ſeniorem partem tocius capituli dicte eccleſie in fratrem S. de B. dicte eccleſie canonicum unanimiter et concorditer concenciſſe; vel ſic, quando inventum omnes canonicos dicte eccleſie preter duos in fratrem, A. D. quibus ſtatim majori parti eligendum adquieſcenter: frater k. ſupprior eccleſie memorate, juxta poteſtatem ſibi a toto conventu traditam, vice conſociorum ſuorum et ſua ac tocius conventus, dictum fratrem S. de B. in priorem ejuſdem eccleſie elegit, ſub hac forma; ‘"Ego frater ſupprior conventualis eccleſie beate Marie talis loci, poteſtate et auctoritate mihi a toto conventu dicte eccleſie tradita et commiſſa, quando, puplicato ſcrutinio et omnibus circa hoc rite peractis, inveni majorem et partem ſeniorem tocius capituli noſtri in fratrem S. de B. virum providum unanimiter concenſiſſe, ipſum nobis et eccleſie noſtre, vice tocius conventus, in priorem eligendum; et eidem electioni ſubſcribo; cui electioni omnes canonici noſtri concencerunt, et ſubſcripſerunt."’‘"Ego frater de C. preſenti electioni concencio, et ſubſcribo."’ Et ſic de ſingulis electoribus; in cujus rei teſtimonium ſigillum capituli noſtri apponi fecimus ad preſentes.

Appendix A.3 NUMBER III.

[439]

Appendix A.3.1 Viſitatio Notabilis de Seleburne.

1387.

WILLMUS permiſſione divina Winton Epiſcopus dilectis filiis Priori et Conventui Prioratus de Selborne Ordinis Sti. Auguſtini, noſtrae dioceſeos, Salutem, gratiam, et ben. Suſcepti regiminis cura paſtoralis officii nos inducit invigilare ſolicite noſtrorum remediis ſubjectorum, et eorum obviare periculis ac ſcandala removere; ut ſic de vinea domini per cultoris providi ſarculum vicia extirpentur inſerantur virtutes, exceſſus debite corrigantur, et ſubditorum mores in nimium prolapſorum per appoſicionem moderaminis congrui reformentur: Hanc nempe ſolicitudinem noſtris humeris incumbentem aſſidua meditacione penſantes, ne ſanguis veſter de manibus noſtris requiratur, ad vos et veſtrum Prioratum ſupradictum, prout noſtro incumbebat officio paſtorali, nuper ex cauſa deſcendimus viſitandi; et dum inter vos noſtre viſitacionis officium iteratis vicibus actualiter exercuimus, nonnulla reperimus que non ſolum obviant regularibus inſtitutis, verum eciam que religioni veſtre non congruunt, nec conveniunt honeſtati; [440] ad que per noſtrum antidotum debite reformanda opem et operam prout expedit et oportet apponimus, quas credimus efficaces, infra ſcripta ſiquidem precepta noſtra pariter et decreta, ſanctorum patrum conſtitucionibus editis et debite promulgatis canoniciſque ac regularibus inſtitutis fulcita, vobis noſtri ſigilli roborata munimine tranſmittimus, inter vos futuris temporibus efficaciter obſervanda, quatinus ad Dei laudem, divini cultus ac veſtrae religionis augmentum, ipſis mediantibus, per viam ſalutis feliciter incedatis; mores et actus veſtri abſtrabantur a noxiis, et ad ſalutaria dirigantur.

No. I. In primis ut Domino Deo noſtro, a quo cuncta bona procedunt, et omnis religio immaculata ſumpſit exordium, in Prioratu veſtro predicto ſerviatur laudabiliter in divinis; Vobis, in virtute ſancte obediencie ac ſub majoris excommunicationis ſententie pena, firmiter injungendo mandamus, quatinus hore canonice, tam de nocte quam de die, in choro a conventu cantentur; miſſe quoque de beata Maria et de die, necnon miſſe alie conſuete horis et devocione debitis et cum moderatis pauſacionibus celebrentur: nec liceat alicui de conventu ab horis et miſſis hujuſmodi ſe abſentare, aut, poſtquam incepte fuerint, ante complecionem earum ab ipſis recedere quoviſmodo; niſi ex cauſa neceſſaria vel legitima per priorem vel ſuppriorem aut alium preſidentem loci, ut convenit, approbanda; in quo caſu ipſorum omnium conſciencias apud altiſſimum arctius oneramus; contrarium vero facientes in proximo tunc capitulo celebrando abſq accepcione qualibet perſonarum regularem ſubeant diſciplinam; acrius inſuper puniendi ſi contumacia vel pertinacia delinquencium hoc expoſcat; ſi quis vero poſt trinam correpcionem debite ſe non correxerit in premiſſis, pro ſingulis vicibus quibus contrarium fecerit ipſum ſingulis ſextis feriis in pane et aqua dumtaxat precipimus jejunare.

[443] No. II. Item quia in viſitacione noſtra predicta comperimus evidenter quod ſilencium, quaſi in exilio poſitum, ad quod juxta regulam Sti. Auguſtini efficaciter eſtis aſtricti, locis et temporibus debitis inter vos minime obſervatur contra obſervancias regulares; Vobis omnibus et ſingulis firmiter injungendo mandamus, quatinus ſilencium, prout vos decet, regula ſupradicta, de cetero locis et temporibus hujuſmodi obſervetis; a vanis et frivolis colloquiis, ſicut decet, vos penitus abſtinendo: illos vero, qui ſilencium hujuſmodi in locis predictis non obſervaverint, animadverſione condigna precipimus caſtigari; et, ſi quis tercio ſuper hoc legitime convictus fuerit, preter regularem diſciplinam, die, quo debite ſilencium non tenuerit, pane et ſervicia dumtaxat et legumine ſit contentus.

No. III. Item quia nonnulli concanonici et confratres prioratus veſtri predicti validi at (que) ſani et in ſacerdocio conſtituti celebracionem miſſarum abſ (que) cauſa legitima indebite ac minus voluntarie multociens, ut dicitur, negligunt et omittunt; fundatorum aliorum (que) benefactorum ſuorum animas, pro quibus ſacrificia offerre tenentur, ſuffragiis nequiter defraudando; Vobis, ut ſupra, firmiter injungendo mandamus, quatinus vos omnes et ſinguli Prioratus predicti concanonici et confratres in ſacerdocio conſtituti frequenter confiteamini confeſſoribus per Priorem deputandis; quos quidem confeſſores diſcretos et idoneos, prout numerus perſonarum dicti conventus exigit, per vos dominum Priorem predictum precipimus deputari; miſſaſque, impedimento ceſſante legitimo, tam pro vivis quam pro defunctis, pro quibus orare tenemini, de cetero, quanto frequencius poteritis, celebretis devocius, ſicut decet; impedimentum vero predictum cum contigerit Priori vel Suppriori Prioratus predicti per illud pacientes infra triduum declarari volumus et exponi, ac per corum alterum [444] prout juſtum fuerit approbari, vel eciam reprobari; in quo caſu ipſorum omnium tam exponencium quam approbancium apud altiſſimum conſciencias diſtrictius oneramus; contrarium vero ſacientes, primo ſuper hoc convicti, proxima quarta feria ſequenti in pane, ſerviſia, et legumine; ſecundo vero convicti feria quarta et ſexta ſequentibus modo conſimili; tercio vero convicti dictis feriis extunc ſequentibus in pane et aqua jejunent, quouſque judicio prioris ſe correxerint in premiſſis; ſtatuentes preterea quod Prior et Supprior Prioratus predicti contra hujuſmodi delinquentes ſemel ſingulis menſibus diligenter inquirant, et quos culpabiles invenerint in premiſſis modo predicto ſtudeant caſtigare.

No. IV. Item quia tranſitus communis ſecularium perſonarum utriuſque ſexus per clauſtrum Prioratus veſtri in congruis temporibus minime exercetur, et potiſſime horis illis quibus fratres de conventu in contemplacione ſancta ſtudiis quoque ac lectionibus variis inibi occupantur; unde diſſoluciones plurime provenerunt, et poterunt in futuro veriſimiliter provenire, ac ipſorum fratrem quieti et religionis honeſtati plurimum derogatur: Vobis ut ſupra arcius injungendo mandamus, quatinus, cum ſecundum regulam ſancti Auguſtini converçacio veſtra debeat eſſe a ſecularibus hujuſmodi ſeparata, ad animarum ac' eciam rerum pericula, que poſſent et ſolent ex concurſu hujuſmodi provenire, caucius evitanda; tranſitum communem predictum per prefatum clauſtrum de cetero fieri nullatenus permittatis, per quem veſtra devocio et religionis honeſtas vulneram vel eciam impediri valeant quoviſmodo, ſub pena excommunicacionis majoris quam in contravenientes intendimus canonice fulminare: illum vero, ad quem oſtiorum clauſtri cuſtodia pertinet, ſi propter illius negligenciam five culpam tranſitus hujuſmodi ſuſtineatur indebite, ut [445] prefertur; pro ſingulis vicibus, quibus hoc factum fuerit, ſingulis quartis feriis in pane, ſerviſia, et legumine dumtaxat jejunet; et, ſi nec ſic ſe correxerit debite in hac parte, ab officio deponatur, ac alius, magis providus, loco ſuo celeriter ſubrogetur.

No. V. Item quia oſtia eccleſie at (que) clauſtri prioratus veſtri predicti non ſervantur nec ſerantur temporibus debitis, nec modo debito, ut deceret; fed cuſtodia eorundem agitur et omittitur multociens necgligenter; adeo quod ſuſpecte perſone et alie inhoneſte per eccleſiam et clauſtrum hujuſmodi incedunt frequenter in tenebris at (que) umbris, temporibus eciam ſuſpectis et illicitis, indecenter; unde dampna et ſcandala varia pluries provenerunt, et im poſterum veriſimiliter poterunt provenire; Vobis, ut ſupra, mandamus, firmiter injungentes, quatinus dicta oſtia de cetero claudi faciatis, et clauſa per miniſtros idoneos cuſtodiri temporibus debitis, prout decet; vobis inhibentes expreſſe, ne oſtia eccleſie veſtre predicte, (illa videlicet que inter navem ipſius eccleſie et chorum ejuſdem exiſtunt) nec oſtia clauſtri que ducunt ad extra, et per que introitus ſecularium in ipſum clauſtrum patere poterit, de mane, antequam prima incipiatur in choro; aut commeſtionis tempore; nec eciam de ſero, poſtquam conventus collationem inceperit; niſi in cauſa utili vel neceſſaria per priorem vel ſuppriorem, ut convenit, approbanda, aperiantur de cetero quovis modo: ad que fideliter exequenda ſacriſtam, qui pro tempore fuerit, ad cujus oſſicium premiſſa pertinent ſub pena amocionis ab oſficio ſuo arcius oneramus, acrius per nos puniendum prout nobis videbitur expedire.

No. VI. Item quia nonnulli concanonici et confratres prioratus veſtri minus ſapiunt in lectura, non intelligentes quid legant, ſed literas quaſi prorſus ignorantes, dum pſallunt vel legunt, accentum brevem pro longo ponunt pluries, et e contra; et per invia gradientes [446] ſanum ſcripturarum intellectum adulterantur multociens, et pervertunt; fitque, ut dum ſcripturas ſacras non ſapiant, ad perpetrandum illicita proniores reddantur: Vobis Domino Priori in virtute obedientie, firmiter injungendo mandamus, quatinus, cum legere et non intelligere ſit necgligere, noviciis et aliis minus ſufficienter literatis idoneus de cetero deputetur magiſter, qui ipſos in cantu et aliis primittivis ſcienciis inſtruat diligenter juxta regularia inſtituta; quatinus, in eiſdem perfectius eruditi, cecitatis ſquamis et ignorancie nebulis depoſitis, que legant intelligant et agnoſcant, et contemplandum clarius miſteria Scripturarum efficiantur, ut convenit, promciores.

No. VII. Item quia conſtituciones five decretales Romanorum Pontificum veſtrum ordinem concernentes, (ille videlicet de quibus in conſtitucionibus recolende memorie Domini Ottoboni, quondam ſedis Apoſtolice in Anglia legate, fit menſio ſpecialis) inter vos nullatenus recitantur, prout per conſtituciones ejuſdem legati recitari mandantur; unde, dum decretales ipfas et contenta in eis penitus ignoratis, committitis multociens que prohibentur expreſſius per eaſdem in veſtrarum periculum animarum: Vobis firmiter injungendo mandamus, quatinus, ne ignoranciam aliquam pretendere poteritis in hac parte, decretales predictas, prout in prefatis domini conſtitucionibus Ottoboni plenius recitantur, in quodam quaterno ſeu volumine abſque more diſpendio faciatis conſcribi; ipſas bis ſingulis annis in veſtro capitulo, juxta formam conſtitutionum dictarum, recitari clarius facientes, ad informacionem rudium et perfectionem eciam provectorum; adjicientes preterea, ut magiſtri noviciorum preſencium et eciam futurorum ipſos in regula Sti. Auguſtini diligentur inſtruant et informant, ipſam regulam eis vulgariter exponendo; quodque iidem novicii per frequentem recitacionem ejuſdem illam ſciant quaſi cordetenus, ſicut in dictis [447] conſtitucionibus plenius continetur, per quam incedere poterint via recta et errorum tenebras caucius evitare: ſuper execucione vero premiſſorum debite facienda dominum priorem prioratus veſtri predicti arcius oneramus quatinus ea que premiſimus in hoc caſu ſub pena ſuſpenſionis ab ipfius officio per menſem diligencius exequatur.

No. VIII. Item quia canonici et confratres prioratus veſtri predicti, ipſorum propriam voluntatem pocius quam utilitatem communem ſectantes, non veftes neceſſarias, cum opus fuerit, ſed certam et limitatam ac determinatam quantitatem peccunie, velut annuum redditum, pro veſtibus hujuſmodi percipiunt annuatim, contra regulam Sti. Auguſtini ac domini Ottoboni et aliorum ſanctorum patrum canonica inſtituta; fitque, ut, dum effrenis illa religioſorum cupiditas, aliena ſpecie colorata, vetita concupiſcat, ſancta religio, ſolutis conſtantie frenis, in luxum labentem ad latitudinis tramites que ducunt ad mortem, miſerabiliter noſcitur declinate: eui quidem morbo peſtifero, ne putrefcat et vermes generet corruptivos, mederi cicius cupientes nichil novi ſtatuendo ſed ſanctorum patrum veſtigiis inherendo, volumus ac eciam ordinamus, quod canonicis et confratribus memoratis preſentibus et futuris de bonis et facultatibus communibus prioratus veſtri predicti veſtris uſibus deputatis veſtes et calciamenta, cum indiguerint, neceſſaria, juxta facultates predictas, et nullo modo peccuniam, pro eiſdem, per eos qui ſuper hiis miniſtrandi gerent officium de cetero miniſtrentur; veſtes vero inveteratas et ineptas hujuſmodi canonicorum camerario communi tradi volumus pauperibus erogandas juxta regulam Sti. Auguſtini, et alias canonicas ſanctiones contrarium vero facientes, ſi camerarius fuerit, penam ſuſpenſionis ab officio ipſum incurrere volumus ipſo facto; ſi vero alius canonicus de conventu exiſtat, preter [448] alias pmas regulares tam peccunia quam eciam indumentis novis careat illo anno.

No. IX. Item quia nonnulli canonici et confratres Prioratus veſti predicti opportunitate captata, extra ſepta Prioratus abſque ſocietate honeſta, evagandi cauſa, nulla ſuper hoc optenta licencia, ſe transferunt pluries indecenter; alii preterea provectiores certis officiis deputati ad maneria et loca alia officiis hujuſmodi aſſignata equitant, quando placet, ibidem manentes pro eorum libito volantatis, nullo canonico ipſis in ſocium aſſignato, contra ordinis decenciam et religionis eciam honeſtatem, conſtitucioneſque Sanctorum Patrum editas in hac parte: Cum igitur religioſos extra eorum Prioratum ſic vagari aut in eorum maneriis vel eccleſiis eis appropriatis ſoli manere expreſſe prohibeant canoniea inſtituta; nos, premiſſa fieri de cetero prohibentes. Vobis firmiter injungendo mandamus, quatinus, cum aliquis Prioratus veſtri canonicus vel confrater ſuper vel pro negociis propriis vel eciam communibus exire contigerit, prius ad hoc a Priore vel Suppriore, ſi preſentes in Prioratu fuerint, alioquin, ipſis abſentibus, ab ipſo qui protunc conventui preeſſe contigerit, licenciam habeat ſpecialem; cui aſſignari volumus unum canonicum in ſocium, ne ſuſpicio ſiniſtra vel ſcandalum oriatur; qui, aſſociata eiſdem juxta qualitatem negocii cometiva honeſta, in eundo et eciam redeundo gravitate ſervata modeſtius ſemper incedant, et expletis negociis ad Prioratum cicius revertantur, que regularibus conveniunt inſtitutis devocius impleturi: contrarium vero facientes, abſque remiſſione ſeu accepcione qualibet perſonarum, regularem ſubeant diſciplinam; ſuper quo preſidencium conventus conſciencias arcius oneramus, ipſoſque nichilominus pro ſingulis vicibus, quibus exceſſerint in premiſſis, ſingulis ſextis feriis in pane et aqua [449] jejunent; et ſi officiarius fuerit, ipſo facto, ſi aliquod canonicum non obſiſtat, ab ipſius officio ſit ſuſpenſus.

No. X. Item quia comperimus evidenter, quod nonnulli canonici domus veſtre, ſecundum carnem pocius quam ſecundum ſpiritum diſſolute viventes, nulla cauſa racionabili ſubſiſtente, nudi jacent in lectis abſque femoralibus et camiſiis contra eorum obſervancias regulares; Vobis igitur fermiter injungendo mandamus, quatinus vos omnes et ſinguli canonici Sti. Auguſtini regulam et in ea parte ordinis veſtri canonica inſtituta de cetero efficaciter obſervetis: contrarium vero facientes ſingulis quartis feriis in pane, ſerviſia, et legumine tantummodo ſint contenti; ſi quis vero poſt trinam correptionem reus inventus fuerit in hac parte pro ſingulis vicibus ſingulis extunc feriis ſextis in pane et aqua hunc precipimus jejunare; Priorem vero ac Suppriorem domus predicte ſub pena ſuſpenſionis ab officiis eorundem arcius onerantes, quatlnus ſuper premiſſis ſepius et diligenter inquirant, et quos culpabiles invenerint eos penis predictis percellere non poſtponant.

No. XI. Item quia nonnullos canonicos et confratres Prioratus veſtri predicti publicos reperimus venatores ac venacionibus hujuſmodi ſpreto jugo regularis obſervancie, publice intendentes, ac canes tenentes venaticos, contra regularia inſtituta; unde diſſolutiones quamplures, animarum pericula corporumque, ac rerum diſpendia multociens oriuntur; nos volentes hoc frequens vicium a Prioratu predicto radicitus extirpare; Vobis omnibus et ſingulis tenore preſencium inhibemus, vobis nichilominus firmiter injungentes, ne quiſquam canonicorum Prioratus veſtri predicti publicis venacionibus vel clamoſis ex propoſito intendere de cetero, vel eciam intereſſe; caneſve venaticos per ſe vel alios tenere preſumat, publice vel occulte, infra Prioratum vel extra, contra [450] capituli, ‘"NE IN AGRO DOMINICO,"’ et alias canonicas ſanctiones; per hoc autem Prioratus veſtri predicti nec juri vel conſuetudini, quod vel quam habere dinoſcitur, in ea parte non intendimus in aliquo derogare: contrarium vero facientes preter diſciplinas et penas alias canonicas pro ſingulis vicibus ſingulis quartis et ſextis feriis in pane et ſerviſia jejunando precipimus caſtigari.

No. XII. Item quia canonici Prioratus veſtri predicti quibus officia forinſeca et intrinſeca committuntur, fingunt ſe, cum poſſent et deberent in choro divinis officiis intereſſe, in officiis hujuſmodi ſibi commiſſis multociens occupari, que poſſent ante vel poſt horas hujuſmodi commode fieri, et eciam exerceri; propter quod cultus divinus minuitur, et alii clauſtrales nimium onerantur; Vobis in virtute ſancte obedientie et ſub pena excommunicacionis majoris firmiter injungendo mandamus, quatinus officiarii quicunque eccleſie veſtre predicte in choro ejuſdem divinis officiis a modo perſonaliter interſint, niſi ex cauſa legitima officiorum ſuorum et per preſidentem conventus, qui pro tempore fuerit, approbanda, eos contigerit abſentare; in quo caſu de et ſuper abſencia ſua legalitateque cauſarum pretenſarum in hac parte ipſorum preſidencium et officiariorum conſciencias apud altiſſimum diſtrictius oneramus.

No. XIII. Item, quia juxta ſapientis doctrinam ubi majus iminet periculum, ibi caucius eſt agendum, volumus et eciam ordinamus, quod duo canonici diſcreti et idonei de conventu Prioratus veſtri predicti per ipſum conventum vel majorem partem ejuſdem annis ſingulis de cetero eligantur, qui bis in anno ad maneria, tam Priori quam eciam pro reſtentacione conventus hujuſmodi ceteris que officiariis aſſignata, perſonaliter ſe transferant [451] et accedant, ſtatum maneriorum ipſorum tam in edificiis quam eciam in ſtauro vivo vel mortuo plenarie ſuperviſuri; quique ſuper hiis que invenerunt in eiſdem conventui ſupradicto relacionem fidelem in ſcriptis, ut convenit, facere teneantur; ut, ſi mors alicujus officiarii vel caſus ilius fortuitus evenerit, de ſtatu officii hujuſmodi cujuſcumque conventum non lateat memoratum; premiſſa vero vobis precipimus efficaciter obſervanda ſub pena noſtro arbitrio limitanda, vobis, ſi in hiis necgligentes fueritis vel remiſſi, acrius infligenda.

No. XIV. Item quia ſolitus et antiquus numerus canonicorum in Prioratu veſtis predicto, quod dolenter referimus, adeo jam decrevit, ac eciam minuitur in preſenti, quod ubi xiiii. canonici vel circiter in habitu et obſervanciis regularibus in dicto Prioratu ſolebant Altiſſimo devocius famulari, (quibus de bonis et poſſeſſionibus ipſius Prioratus veſtri communibus que poſſidetis in victu et veſtitu juxta decenciam ordinis regularis honorifice ac debite fuerat miniſtratum) modo vero undecim canonici dumtaxat exiſtunt et ſerviunt in eodem; quo fit, ut dum regis regum cultum attenuet cohabitancium paucitas, contra multiformis nequitie hoſtem minuatur exercitus bellatorum: Cum igitur juxta prefati domini Ottoboni conſtitutiones aliorumque ſanctorum patrum canonica inſtituta, canonicorum antiquus numerus ſit ſervandus, ac juxta ſapientis doctrinam ‘"In multitudine populi ſit dignitas regis, et in paucitate plebis ignominia principis accendatur;"’ Vobis in virtute ſancte obedientie ac ſub pena majoris excomm. firmiter injungendo mandamus, quatinus, cum omni diligentia et celeritate debitis, de viris idoneis religioni diſpoſitis, et honeſtis vobis abſque more diſpendio providere curetis; ipſos in ordinem veſtrum regularem in ſupplecionem [452] majoris numeri requiſiti, ſeu faltem illius numeri canonicorum ad quorum ſuſtentacionem congruam, aliis oneribus vobis incumbentibus debite ſupportatis, veſtre jam habite ſuppetunt facultates; ſuper quibus veſtram et cujuſlibet veſtrum conſcienciam arcius oneramus; celerius admittentes, ad augmentum cultus divini et perfectionem majorem ordinis regularis, pro fundatoribus et benefactoribus veſtris devocius, ut convenit, interceſſuros.

No. XV. Item quia comperimus evidenter quod vos, domine Prior, cui ex debito veſtri officii hoc incumbit, de proprietariis canonicis Prioratus veſtri predicti, juxta conſtitutiones domini legati editas in hac parte, inquiſicionem debitam hactenus non feciſtis, miniſterium vobis creditum in ea parte necgligentius omittendo; quo fit, ut ille peſtifer hoſtis antiquus paſtoris conſiderans continuatam deſideam oves miſeras et errantes, ipſius hoſtis nequiſſimi fraude deceptas in ſitim avaricie prolabentes laqueo proprietatis ſeduxit, contra ſanctorum patrum canonica inſtituta, in ſuarum grave periculum animarum; Vos igitur requirimus et monemus, vobiſque in virtute obediencie firmiter injungendo mandamus, quatinus dicti legati conſtitutiones, ut convenit, imitantes ſuper proprietariis hujuſmodi ſaltim bis in anno inquiſicionem ſaciatis de cetero diligentem; ipſos, ſi quos inveneritis, animadverſione condigna juxta regularia inſtituta canonice punientes; ſi vero id adimplere necglexentis, adminiſtracione veſtra, ipſo facto noveritis vos privatum, donec premiſſa fueritis diligenter executi, prout in conſtit. homini ottoboni legati predicti plenius continetur.

No. XVI. Item, cum ſecundum conſtit. dicti legati et aliorum ſanctorum patrum canonica inſtituta, abbates et priores, proprios abbates non habentes, nec non officiarii quicunque teneantur bis ſaltim ſingulis annis preſente toto conventu vel aliquibus ex ſenioribus ad hoc a capitulo deputatis de ſtatu Prioratus et de adminiſtracione [453] ſua plenariam reddere rationem, quod tum in Prioratu veſtro predicto invenimus hactenus non ſervatum, unde plura ſecuntur incommoda, et veſtre utilitati communi plurimum derogatur; Vobis in virtute obediencie firmiter injungendo mandamus, quatinus prefati domini legati, domini videlicet Ottoboni, necnon bone memorie domini Stephani quondam Archiepiſcopi Cant. conſtit. editas in hac parte, faciatis inter vos de cetero firmiter obſervari, ſub pena ſuſpenſronis officiariorum ipſorum ab eorum hujuſmodi officiis, dictique Prioris ab adminiſtracione ſua, quam, ſi premiſſa necglexerint obſervare, ipſo facto, donec id perfecerint, ſe noverint incurriſſe, prout in dictis conſtit. dicti Ottoboni plenius continetur.

No. XVII. Item quia in Prioratu veſtro predicto et eccleſia ejuſdem ac in nonnullis domibus, edificiis, muris et clauſuris eccleſie veſtre prelibate, necnon maneriorum ipſius Prioratus certis diverſis officiis deputatorum, quas et quae preceſſorum et predeceſſorum veſtrorum induſtria ſumptuoſe conſtruxerat, quamplures enormes et notabiles ſunt defectus, reparatione neceſſaria indigentes; unde ſtatum ipſius Prioratus ac maneriorum predictorum deformitas occupat, et multa incommoda inſecuntur; Vobis igitur in virtute obedientie firmiter injungendo mandamus, quatinus defectus hujuſmodi, pro veſtra utilitate communi abſque dilacionis incommodo, quamcicius poteritis, juxta vires reparari debite faciatls; alioquin Priorem ceteroſque officiarios quoſcumque, qui in premiſſis necgligentes fuerint vel remiſſi, niſi infra ſex menſes poſt notificacionem preſencium ſibi factam ad debitam reparationem defectuum hujuſmodi ſe preparaverint, cum effectu, ipſo facto ab officiis ſuis hujuſmodi ſint ſuſpenſi.

No. XVIII. Item, quia per vendiciones et conceſſiones liberacinoum et corrodiorum hactenus per vos factas, reperimus dictum Prioratum [454] multipliciter fore gravatum, adeo quod ea, que ad divini cultus augmentum, ſuſtentacionem pauperum, et infirmorum, pia devocio fidelium erogavit, mercenariorum ceca cupiditas jam abſorbet; fitque, ut dum bona ejuſdem Prioratus in alios uſus quam debitos, ne dixerimus in prophanos, nepharie convertantur, altiſſimo famulancium in eadem numerus minuitur, pauperes et infirmi ſuis porcionibus, ac ipſa eccleſia divinis obſequiis nequiter defraudantur, contra intencionem piiſſimam fundatorum, in veſtrarum periculum animarum; Indempnitati igitur ipſius ecoleſie veſtre in hac parte debite providere, dictum quoque tam frequens incommodum ab eadem radicitus extirpare volentes, bone memorie domini Ottoboni legati predicti aliorumque ſanctorum patrum veſtigiis inherentes; Vobis tenore preſencium diſtrictius inhibemus, eciam ſub pena excomm. majoris, ne corrodia, liberaciones, aut penſiones perſonis aliquibus imperpetuum vel ad tempus vendatis de cetero, vel aliqualiter concedatis, abſque noſtro conſenſu et licencia ſpeciali; preſertim cum vendiciones hujuſmodi, que ſpecies alienacionis exiſtunt, Prioratus veſtri predicti detrimentum procurent et enormem eciam generat leſionem; ſi quis vero contra hanc noſtram inhibicionem aliquid attemptare proſumpſerit, niſi id quod ſic preſumpſerit revocaverit, ab officio ſit ſuſpenſus prout in conſtit. domini Ottoboni clarius continetur.

No. XIX. Item quia quedam certe perpetue cantarie pro fundatoribus et aliis. benefactoribus veſtris tam in genere quam in ſpecie antiquitus conſtitute per diverſos preſbyteros in Prioratu veſtro predicto debite celebrande, pro quibus plura donaria recipiſtis a multis retro actis temporibus, ac eciam de preſenti, ut aſſeritur, ſunt ſubſtracte, contra piam intencionem ac ordinacionem eciam fundatorum, in veſtrarum grave periculum animarum; Vobis igitur, in virtute ſancte obedientie ac ſub majoris excom. [455] ſentencie pena, firmiter injungendo mandamus, quatinus cantarias predictas juxta formam inſtitucionum et ordinacionum earum faciatis de cetero debite celebrari, ac eiſdem congrue deſerviri, ſi redditus et proventus ad hujuſmodi cantarias antiquitus aſſignati ad hoc ſufficiant hiis diebus, alioquin prout redditus et proventus earum, aliis omnibus eiſdem incumbentibus debite ſupportatis, ſufficiunt de preſenti, dolo et fraude ceſſantibus quibuſcunque; ſuper quo veſtram conſcienciam arcius oneramus, a modo deſerviri debite faciatis.

No. XX. Item vobis et omnibus et ſingulis in virtute ſancte obediencie ac ſub majoris excom. ſentencie pena firmiter injungendo mandamus, quatinus elemoſinas in Prioratu veſtro predicto antiquitus fieri conſuetas, et eas ad quas tenemini ex ordinacione antiqua pro animabus fundatorum et aliorum benefactorum veſtrorum juxta facultates veſtras ſuper quibus veſtras conſciencias arctius oneramus, prout divinam effugere volueritis ulcionem diſtribui de cetero faciatis; precipientes preterea quod fragmenta ſeu reliquiae tam de aula Prioris quam eciam de refectorio proveniencià, abſque diminucione qualibet, per elimoſinarium vel ipſius locum tenentem integre colligantur, pauperibus fideliter eroganda; alioquin, ſi elimoſinarius hujuſmodi remiſſus vel negligens fuerit in premiſſis, penam ſuſpenſionis ab officio ſe noverit incurſurum.

No. XXI. Item quia debilibus et infirmis humanitatis preberi ſubſidium jubet caritas, et pietas intelpellat; Vobis domino Priori ceteris obedienciariis Prioratus veſtri predicti, quorum intereſt in hac parte in virtute ſancte obediencie firmiter injungendo mandamus, quatinus confratribus veſtris debilibus et infirmis, ipſorum infirmitate durante, in eſculentes et poculentes eorum infirmitatibus congruentibus, necnon in medicinis et aliis juxta infirmitatis hujuſmodi qualitatem et Prioratus facultates, de bonis veſtris communibus [456] et ſicut antiquitus fieri conſueverat de cetero faciatis debite procurari, ſub pena ſuſpenſionis ab officiis veſtris ſi circa premiſſa necgligentes fueritis vel remiſſi, ipſo facto, quouſ (que) id quod necgligenter omiſſum fuerit perfeceritis, incurrenda; prout in conſtit. domini Ottoboni plenius continetur; ſtatuentes preterea quod camere infirmaria veſtra, cum opus fuerit, infirmis canonicis ſint communes, ne, quod abſit, aliquis ſibi retineat in eiſdem vel vendicet proprietatem, contra ſancti Auguſtini regulam et conſtit. ſanctorum patrum editas in hac parte.

No. XXII. Item cum necgligencia ſive remiſſio in perſonis precidencium ſit plurimum deteſtanda, facilitas quo (que) venie incentivum prebeat delinquendi; Vobis domino Priori, Suppriori, aliiſ (que) conventus predicti preſidentibus quibuſcum (que) preſentibus et futuris, in virtute ſancte obediencie firmiter injungendo mandamus, Quatinus, cum correctiones in perſonis ipſius conventus imineant faciende, ipſas, prout ad vos pertinet, abſ (que) acceptione qualibet perſonarum juxta quantitatem delictorum et perſonarum qualitatem veſtraſ (que) obſervancias regulares cum maturitate debita, et diſcretione previa, facere ſtudeatis; alioquin vos ſuppriorem ceteroſ (que) preſidentes predictos, ſi necgligentes vel remiſſi aut culpabiles fueritis in premiſſis, canonica noſtra monicione premiſſa penam ſuſpencionis ab officiis veſtris extunc incurrere volumus ipſo facto, donec hujuſmodi negligenciam, remiſſionem, culpam, vel deſidiam a vobis excuſſeritis in hac parte; pena prefacto domino Priori in hoc caſu, ut convenit, infligenda nobis ſpecialiter reſervata.

No. XXIII. Item cum conſuetudines laudabiles Prioratus cujuſcum (que) ordinacioneſque ac ſtatuta que uſus longevi temporis approbavit merito ſint ſervandae; Vobis domino Priori ac ſingulis officiariis Prioratus veſtri predicti preſentibus et futuris in virtute ſancte [457] obediencie, et ſub penis infra ſcriptis, firmiter injungendo mandamus; Quatinus pitancias et alias diſtribuciones quaſcunque, in quibuſcunque rebus conſiſtant et quocunque nomine cenſeantur, in obitibus, anniverſarius feſtivitatibus, aut aliis diebus, conventui, aut ab uno officio alii officio ex ordinacione antiqua debitas et conſuetas, in canonicum aliquod non obſiſtat a modo faciatis perſolvi, ſub pena porcionis duple, cujus partem unam conventui predicto, alteram vero partem certis piis uſibus noſtro arbitrio limitandis debite perſolvendam ſpecialiter reſervamus.

No. XXIV. Item cum vendiciones boſcorum, firme maneriorum vel eciam eccleſiarum, aut alia domus veſtre ardua negocia imineant facienda, illa, ſine tractatu ac deliberacione provida cum conventu predicto ac eorum conſenſu expreſſo vel majoris et ſanioris partis ejuſdem, de cetero fieri prohibemus; aliter autem hujuſmodi negocia ardua facta nullius exiſtunt firmitatis; et nichilominus Priorem alioſque officiarios quoſcum (que) qui contra preſentem prohibitionem noſtram quicquam attemptaverint in premiſſis, penam ſuſpenſionis ab officiis eorundem ipſo facto ſe noverint incurſuros, cum ex hujuſmodi factis privatis eccleſiis diſpendia multociens provenerunt; illa quoque que omnes tangunt ab omnibus merito debeant approbari.

No. XXV. Item volumus ac eciam ordinamus, quod ſigillum veſtrum commune ſub quinque clavibus ad minus de cetero cuſtodiatur; quarum unam penes Priorem, ſecundam penes ſuppriorem, terciam penes precentorem, et reliquas duas claves penes confratres alios per conventum ad hoc nominandos decrevimus remanere, per ipſos fideliter cuſtodiendas; inhibentes preterea ſub pena excom. majoris ne quicquam cum dicto ſigillo communi a modo ſigelletur, niſi litera hujuſmodi figellanda primitus legatur, inſpiciatur, et eciam intelligatur a majore et ſaniore parte tocius [458] conventus, et ad ipſam ſigillandam communis veſter prebeatur conſenſus, cum ex facto hujuſmodi plura poſſunt diſpendia verifimiliter provenire; ad hac vobis omnibus et ſingulis tenore preſencium inhibemus, ne compatres alicujus pueri de cetero fieri preſumatis, noſtra ſuper hoc licencia non obtenta, cum ex hujuſmodi cognacionibus religioſis domibus diſpendia ſepius invenire noſcuntur; contrarium vero facientes, preter diſciplinas alias regulares, ſingulis ſextis feriis per menſem proxime tunc ſequentem in pane et aqua jejunando precipimus caſtigari.

No. XXVI. Item quia nonnulli canonici domus veſtre predicte, freno abjecto obſervancie regularis, caligis de Burneto et ſotularium baſp. in ocrearum loco ad modum ſotularium uti publice non verentur, contra conſuetudinem antiquam laudabilem ordinis ſupradicti, in pernicioſum exemplum et ſcandalum plurimorum; nos igitur honeſtatem dicti ordinis obſervare volentes, Vobis domino Priori in virtute ſancte obediencie firmiter injugendo mandamus, Quatinus quoſcum (que) veſtros canonicos et confratres ad utendun de cetero ocreis ſeu botis ſecundum antiquas veſtri ordinis obſervancias regulares per quaſcum (que) cenſuras eccleſiaſticas, et, ſi opus fuerit, par incarceracionis penam canonice compellatis, ſub pena ſuſpenſionis ab officio veſtro predicto.

No. XXVII. Item quia tres vel due partes conventus domus veſtre non comedunt cotidie in refectorio, prout conſtitutiones ſanctorum patrum ſanxerunt providè in hac parte; Vobis dicti Prioratus conventui firmiter injungendo mandamus, Quatinus tres vel ſaltem due partes veſtrum cotidie in refectorio hora prandii de cetero comedant et remaneant debite, ſicut decet; vobis ar [...]s injungentes, quod nullus veſtrum in manſiunculis aut locis aliis privatis eciam cum hoſpitibus ſuis regularibus vel ſecularibus vel confratibus ſuis comedat; hoſtilaria cum hoſpitibus, refectorio [459] in communi miſericordia, cauſa recreacionis, et aula Prioris dumtaxat exceptis; hanc tamen Prior apponat providenciam diligentem, ut, ſine perſonarum accepcione, nunc hos nunc illos ad refectionem convocet, quos magis noverit indigere; ſuper execucione vero debita premiſſorum Priorem ac alios conventui preſidentes ſub pena ſuſpenſionis ab eorum officiis arctius oneramus.

No. XXVIII. Item, cum ſecundum ſanctorum patrum conſtituciones, juniores canonici a ſuis prelatis vivendi normam habeant aſſumere, ac iidem prelati ſuper ſua converſacione teſtium copiam debeant obtinere; Vobis domino Priori in virtute obedientie diſtricte precipiendo mandamus, Quatinus capellanum veſtrum canonicum ſingulis de cetero mutetis annis, juxta conſtitutiones ſanctorum patrum editas in hac parte; ut ſic, qui vobiſcum fuerint in officio predicto, per doctrine laudabilis exercicium plus valeant in religione proficere, ac eos innocencie teſtes, ſi vobis, quod abſit, crimen aliquod ſeu ſcandalum per aliquorum invidiam imponatur, prompte poteritis invocare.

No. XXIX. Item, cum communis exquiſitus ornatus preſertim in religioſis perſonis a jure ſit penitus interdictus; Vobis tenore preſencium inhibemus, ne quivis veſtram de cetero in ſuis veſtibus furruris precioſis aut manicis nodulatis zonisve ſericis auri vel argenti ornatum habentibus utatur de cetero quovis modo, cum abuſus hujuſmodi ad pompam et oſtentacionem ac ſcandalum ordinis manifeſte tendere dinoſcatur.

No. XXX. Item, quia ſingula officia ſunt ſingulis committenda perſonis; Vobis in virtute obediencie et ſub excom. ſententie pena firmiter injungendo mandamus, ut officia ſingula veſtri Prioratus, que per canonicos officiarios gubernari ſolebant, per officiarios hujuſmodi, per vos communiter vel diviſim juxta Prioratus [460] predicti morem ſolitum eligendos, quibus ipſa officia, ut olim, committi volumus exercenda, ſingulariter de cetero gubernentur.

XXXI. Item, cum plus timeri ſoleat id quod ſpecialiter injungitur quam quod generaliter imperatur; Vobis omnibus et ſingulis inhibemus, ne aliquis veſtrum, ad curam animarum non admiſſus, clericis aut laicis ſacramentum unctionis extreme vel euchauriſtia miniſtrare, matrimonia ve ſolempnizare, non habita ſuper hiis parochialis preſbyteri licencia, quomodolibet preſumatis, ſub pena excom. majoris ſententie in hac parte a canone fulminate.

XXXII. Item quia comperimus in noſtris viſitacionibus ſupradictis vaſa et pallas altaris, necnon et veſtimenta ſacra eccleſie veſtre, atque corporalia, tam immunda relinqui, quod interdum aliquibus ſunt horrori; ut igitur honor debitus divinis impendatur; Vobis firmiter injungendo mandamus, Quatinus vaſa, corporalia, pallas, et veſtimenta predicta, ac cetera eccleſie ornamenta munda nitida et honeſta decetero conſerventur hoc quo (que) inſuper injungentes, ut in eccleſiâ veſtra celebrantibus vinum bonum, purum, et incorruptum ad ſacramentum altaris conficiendum per eum qui ſuper hoc gerit officium, et non corruptum, et acetoſum, prout fieri conſueverit, impoſterum miniſtretur; nimis enim videtur abſurdum in ſacris ſordes necgligere, que dedecerunt in prophanis.

XXXIII. Item licet ſanctorum reliquias, vaſa, aut veſtimenta ſacra ſeu libros eccleſie in vadem dari, aut pignori obligari canonica prohibeant inſtituta, a vobis tamen in dictis viſitacionibus comperimus contrarium eſſe factum; Vobis igitur domino Priori, tenore preſencium, ſirmiter injungendo mandamus, quatinus ab hujuſmodi impignoracionibus extra caſus a jure permiſſos vos decetero penetus abſtinentes, hujuſmodi pignori obligata curetis recolligere, et ea [461] eccleſie veſtre reſtituere, abſ (que) more diſpendio, ſicut decet; ſtatuentes preterea ut omnes carte ac munimenta quecum (que) ſtatum bona et poſſeſſiones domus veſtre qualitercum (que) contingentes, ſub tribus ſeruris et clavibus remaneant, futuris temporibus fideliter conſervande.

XXXIV. Item cum religioſi de bono in melius continue debeant proficiſci, ac ex ſacre ſcripture lectione et inſpectione qualiter id faciant plenius inſtrui valeant; Vobis firmiter injungendo mandamus, ut, completis hiis, que ad veſtri ordinis et regularis diſcipline obſervanciam pertinent at (que) ſpectant, in clauſtro ſedentes ſcripture ſacre lectioni ſancte (que) contemplacioni devocius inſiſtatis, ſicq ſecundum regule veſtre exigenciam taliter codices inſpiciendos requiratis, ut in eis quid fugiendum quid ſubſequendum ac cujuſmodi premium inde conſequendum fuerit agnoſcere valeatis.

XXXV. Item vobis Domino Priori injungimus, quod cum parentes vel conſanguinei alicujus confratris veſtri ad eum acceſſerint, cauſa viſitandi eundem, liberaliter ſecundum ſtatum ſui exigentiam per vos vel illum qui ſuper hoc miniſtrandi gerit officium infra Prioratum honeſte et debite procurentur; ſed videant fratres ne nimis ſint in talibus Prioratui oneroſi.

XXXVI. Item quia parum eſt jura condere niſi executioni debita demandentur, ea quoque ſolent labili memorie eo tenacius commendari quo veraciter audientium auribus fuerint ſepius inculcata; et, ne veſtrum quis piam ignorantiam pretendere valeat premiſſorum; Vobis firmiter injungendo mandamus, quatinus has noſtras injunctiones et decreta pariter ſupradicta in aliquo volumine competenti abſque more diſpendio conſcribi plenius faciatis, eaque omnia et ſingula bis annis ſingulis de cetero coram toto conventu plenius recitari; vos nichilominus omnes et ſingulos monemus primo ſecundo et tercio peremptorie, vobis inſuper in [462] virtute obediencie arctius injungentes, quatinus ipſas injunctiones noſtras et decreta predicta omnia et ſingula prout ad vos et veſtrum quemlibet pertinent et ſingulariter vos concernunt, teneatis de cetero ac eciam obſervetis, ſub penis et cenſuris eccleſiaſticis ſupradictis, et aliis penis canonicis in contravenientes quoſcumque, prout contumacia delinquencium exegerit, per nos impoſterum canonice infligendis. Poteſtatem autem premiſſa corrigendi, mutandi in toto vel in parte, interpretandi, declarandi et eiſdem addendi, ēt eciam detrahendi, ac penas adjiciendi, ſuſpendendi, necnon ſuper compertis aliis in viſitatione noſtra predicta procedendi, criminaque et defectus ac exceſſus in ipſa comperta et delata corrigendi, ac canonice puniendi, et ſuper ipſis novas injunctiones inſuper faciendas, ſicut et prout opus fuerit et nobis videbitur expedire, nobis eciam ſpecialiter reſervamus. In quorum omnium teſtimonium ſigillum noſtrum fecimus hiis apponi. Dat. apud Wynton viceſimo ſeptimo die menſis Septembris anno Domini milleſimo ccco octogeſimo ſeptimo et noſtre conſecrationis anno viceſimo.

(L. S.)

Appendix A.4 NUMBER IV.

[463]
(No. 50.)

Appendix A.4.1 INDENTURA PRIORIS de SELBORNE quorundam tradit. Petro Barnes ſacriſtae ibidem ann. Hen. 6.—una cum confiſſ. ejuſdem Petri ſcript.

HEC indentura facta die lune proxime poſt ffeſtum natalium Dni anno regis Henrici ſexti poſt conqueſtum anglie V.—inter ffratrem Johannem Stepe priorem eccleſie beate Marie de Selborne & Petrum Bernes ſacriſt. ibidem videlicet quod predictus prior deliveravit prefato Petro omnia ſubſcripta In primis XXII amit XXXI aubes vid. V. ſine parura pro quadrageſima XXII manicul. Item XXII ſtole Item VIII caſule vid. III albe pro quadrageſima Item XI dalmatic. vid. I debit. Item XVI cape vid. IIII veteres Item unam amittam I albam cum paruris unum manipulum I ſtolam I caſulam et duas dalmaticas de dono Johannis Combe capellani de Ciceſtria pro diebus principalibus Item I amittam I aubam cum paruris I manupulum I ſtolam I caſulam de dono ffratris Thome Halybone canonicis Item I amittam I aubam cum paruris I manupulum I ſtolam I caſulam pertinentem ad altare ſancte Catherine virginis pro priore Item I amittam II aubas cum paruris II manipul II ſtolas et II caſulas pertinentes ad altare ſancti Petri de dono patris Ricardi holte Item de dono [464] ejuſdem II tuella vid. I cum fruictello et I canvas pro eodem altare Item I tuellum pendentem ad terram pro quadrageſima Item VI tuell cum ffruictibus XV tuell ſine ffruictell Item IIII tuell pro lavatore Item V corporas Item II ffruictell pro ſummo altare ſine tuellis Item II coopertor pro le ceſte Item II pallias de ſerico debili Item I velum pro quadrageſima Item I tapetum viridi coloris pro ſummo altare II ridell cum IIII ridellis parvis pertinent. ad dict. altare Item VII offretor vid. V debit. Item IIII vexilla Item IIII pelves III queſſones vid. I de ſerico Item II ſuper altaria Item quin (que) calices vid. IIII de auro Item II cruettes de argento de dono dni Johannis Combe capellani de Ciceſtre Item VIII cruettes de peuter Item I coupam argent. et deaur. Item II oſculator argent. Item I oſculatorium cum oſſe digiti auricular Sti. Johannis Baptiſte Item I crux argent. et deaur. non radicat. Item turribulum argent et deaur. Item I anulum cum ſaphiro Item I aliud anulum I politum aureum Item I anulum argent. et deauratum Sti. Edmundi. Item I concha cum pereo infixo Item I ciſtam argent. et deaur. Item I imaginem beate Marie argent. et deaurat. Item I parvam crucem cum V reliquiis Item I junctorium Sti. Ricardi Item I tecam pro reliquiis imponend Item I calefactor Sti. Ricardi Item IIII candelebra vid. II de ſtagno et II de ferro Item I pecten Sti. Ricardi Item II viell de criſtall In parte fract Item I pelvim de coper ad lavator Item II oſculat. de coper Item I parvum terribulum de latyn Item I vas de coper pro frank et ſence conſecrand Item I pixidem de juery pro corpore Chriſti Item II vaſa de plumbo pro oleo conſervando Item I patellam eneam ferro ligat. Item I tripodem ferr. Item I coſtrell contum II lagen et I potrell. Item II babyngyres Item II botelles de corio vid. I de quarte et I de pynte Item III anul. arg. et I pixidem Ste Marie de Waddon Item ( ) [465] Inſtrumenta pro Sandyng Item I ledbnyff Item I ſhaſshobe Item I ſecurim Item II ſcabell. de ferro pro cancell Item I plane Item I ciſtam ſine cerura Item XIIII ſonas Item XIX taperes ponder XIIIth et dimid. Item II torches ponder XXth Item XIIth cere et dimid. Item de candelis de cera ponder VIth Item Ith de frank et ſence Item I lagenam olei Item IX pondera de plumbo (Vide de ſtauro in tergo) et in tergo ſcribuntur haec, ‘"II vacce I ſus IIII hoggett et IIII porcell"’

Appendix A.5 NUMBER V.

[466]
(N. 381.)

Appendix A.5.1 A PAPER conteyning the value of the MANORS and LANDS pertayning to the PRIORIE of SELBORNE. iv. Edw. 3. With a note of charges yſſuing out of it.

Appendix A.5.1.1 SELEBORNE PRIORATUS.

SUMMA totalis valoris maneriorum terrarum tenementorum et premiſſorum ejuſdem Prioratus in ffeſto Sti. Michaelis Archang. anno ſecundo Regis Edvardi 4ti. ut patet Rotul. de valoribus liberat.

xx IIII VI li. (i. e. LXXXVI li.) XS. VI d.

Inde in redditibus reſolutis domino pape domino Archiepiſcopo et in diverſis ffeodis certis perſonis conceſſis ac aliis annualibus repriſis in eiſdem Rotul. de valoribus annotatis per annum XIIII li. XIX S. v d.

Et remanet de claro valore LXXI li. X S. VIII d.

Videlicet Aſſignantur proQuatuor canonicis et quatuor ffamulis deo et eccleſie ibid. ſervientibus pro eorum vadiis veſtur. et diet. ut patet per bill inde fact. per annum XXX li.
Diverſis creditoribus pro eorum debitis perſolvendis ut patet per parcell inde fact. XV li. XV S. IIII d.
Reparacionibus Eccleſiarum domorum murorum et clauſurarum ejuſdem Prioratus per annum XV li. XV S. IIII d.
Annua pencione Domini Prioris ei aſſignata per annum quouſque remanet X li.
Appendix A.5.1.2 SELBORNE PRIORATUS.
[467]

Modo ſequitur de Reformatione premiſſorum.

Redditus omn. ffirmis et Pencionibus.Summa total. valorum ibid. miſis et deſperatis inde deductis prout patet per declaracionem Dni Petri Prioris de Seleborne ad man. Dni noſtri Wynton apud Palacium ſuum de Wolſley preſentat. per ipſum ultimo die ffebr. Ann. Domini MCCCCLXII. et penes ipſum remanetLXXI li. X s. VIII d. unde per ipſum Dnum noſtrum Wynton aſſignantur in fforma ſequente videlicet.
Aſſignantur ut ſupraPro quatuor canonicis et quatuor ffamulis deo et eccleſie ibid. ſervientibus pro eorum Diet. vadiis et veſtur. ut patet per bill inde fact.XXX li.
Pro annua pencione Prioris quouſque remanet.X li.
Pro diverſis creditoribus pro eorum debitis perſolvendis ut patet per bill inde fact.XV li. XV s. IIII d. per II annos ad XXXI li. X s. VIII d. ultra LV li. XIIII d. de vendit. ſtauri.
Pro diverſis reparacionibus eccleſiarum domorum murorum et clauſurarum ut patet per bill.XV li. XV S. IIII d. per II annos ad XXXI li. X s. VIII d. Summa total. valoris pro debitis et reparacionibus aſſignat. cum LV li. XIIII d. de vendit. Stauri ut ſupra CXVIII li. II s. VI d.

[468]Debita que debentur ibid. per diverſos tenentes et ffirmarios ad feſtum Sti. Michaelis anno tertio Regis Edvardi 4ti. videlicet.

Abbas de Derford de ffeod ffirme ſua ad IX li. VI s. VIII d. per annum a retroXX li. VII s. XI d.
Thomas Perkyns armig. ffirmarius Rectorie de Eſtworlam pro uno anno finiente ad ffeſtum Sti. Mich. anno II. Regis Edvardi 4ti.LX s.
Johannes Shalmere ball. de Selborne debetLXXV s.
Ricardus Cawry debet de eodem annoVI s.
SummaXXVII li. VIII s. XI d.
Thomas Perkyns armig. debet de ffirme ſua predicta ad feſtum Sti. Mich. ann. VII et ultra feod. ſuum ad XX s. per annumVII li. VI s VIII d.
Thomas lusſher debet pro ffirme ſua ad XL s. per annum cum feod. ſuis ad XX s. per annumc. s.
Hugo Pakenham debet de reddit. ſuo ad XX s. per ann.c. s.
Abbas de Derford debet de ffeod ffirme ſua ultra XX li. VII s. XI d. ut ſupra pro annis III. IIII. et V. Regis EdvardiXXVIII li.
Walterus Berlond ffirmarius de Shene debetIX li V s. IId.
Henr. Shafter ffirmarius ffeod de BaſynſtokeXII li. IIII d.
Henr. lode nuper ffirmarius manerii de Chede debetXX li.
Total LXXXXIV li. XII d. 
SummaLXVI li. XII s. VI d.

Appendix B INDEX.

[]
A
  • AMERIA, one of the wives of Sir Adam Gurdon, makes a grant of lands to the Priory Page 351
  • Anne, queen, came to Wolmer-foreſt to ſee the red deer 17
  • April, 1770, the remarkable inclemency of its weather 130
  • Arum, the cuckoo-pint, eaten in hard weather, by what 43
  • Aſhford, Thomas, laſt prior of Selborne 400
  • — is penſioned by Magdalen College 411
  • Aſh-tree, a rupture one, what 202
  • — a ſhrew one, what 203
  • Auguſt, the moſt mute month reſpecting the ſinging of birds 101
  • Ayles Holt, alias Alice Holt, the foreſt of 24
  • — its grantees 24
B
  • Barometers, Selborne and Newton compared 285
  • South Lambeth 286
  • Barragon, a genteel corded ſtuff, where manufactured 14
  • Bat, a tame one, ſome particulars about 32
  • — drink on the wing like ſwallows 32
  • — the large ſort, ſome particulars about 76
  • — nondeſcript in 1769, 76. More account of 93
  • Beaufort, biſhop of Wincheſter, his regiſter imperfect 375
  • Berne, alias Bernes, Peter, ſacriſt of Selborne Priory 383
  • — appointed prior by lapſe to the viſitor 386
  • — reſigned his priorſhip 387
  • — is re-elected 393
  • — relinquiſhes again 395
  • — is penſioned 398
  • — the indenture delivered to him, as ſacriſt, from the prior of Selborne 463
  • [] Bins, or Beans-pond, for what remarkable Page 21
  • Birds, ſummer, of paſſage, a liſt of 46, 115
  • — living ones ſhewn here, when from diſtant regions, why uſually of the thick-billed genera 83
  • — of ſummer paſſage ſeen ſpring and autumn at Gibraltar 87
  • — ſoft-billed, that winter with us, how ſupported 105
  • — of winter paſſage, a liſt of 117
  • — that continue in full ſong till after Midſummer 119
  • — why fatten in moderate froſts 128
  • — what ſorts are pulveratrices 133
  • — what occaſions their congregating 145, 146
  • — in the ſeaſon of nidification, tame 189
  • — various manner of motion of 237
  • — notes and language of 240
  • Black-cap, an elegant ſongſter 103
  • Boy, an idiot, his ſtrange propenſity 200
  • — eats bees, &c. 201
  • Brimſtone-lodge, ſome account of 21
  • Brooks at Selborne, what fiſhes they produce 31
  • Bug, harveſt, ſome account of 89, 90
  • Bullfinch, turns black 42
  • Bunting, a very rare bird at Selborne 37
  • Butcher-bird, red backed 56
  • Buzzards, honey, ſome account of 109
C
  • Caprimulgus, or fern-owl, ſome new obſervations about 94
  • Carta pro fun latione Prioratus de Seleburne 431
  • Carta petens licenciam elegendi prelatum à dom. epiſcop. Winton. 434
  • Caſtration, its ſtrange effects 212
  • Cats, houſe, ſtrange that they ſhould be ſo fond of fiſh 82
  • Chaffinches, vaſt flocks of hens 37
  • — hens, more account of 136
  • Chalk-hills, why peculiarly beautiful 163
  • Church, Selborne, particulars about 314, 320
  • [] Coccus vitis viniferae, ſtrange and rare inſect in England Page 265, 268
  • Coins, Roman, found at Selborne in great abundance 309, 310
  • Cornua Ammonis, where found 7, 8
  • Cricket, field, a monography of 251, 253
  • — hearth, a monography of 254, 256
  • — mole, a monography of 256, 258
  • Crocus, the ſpring, and ſaffron, their different ſeaſons of bloſſoming wonderful, why 429
  • Cuckoo, particulars about 125, 126, 128
  • — ſing in different keys 143
  • — a young one in the neſt of a titlark 133
  • — ſeveral ſkimming over a pond, why 134
  • Cumberland, William, Duke of, takes away the red deer from Wolmer-foreſt 17
  • Curlew, ſtone, ſome account of 43, 44
  • — more particulars of 88, 89
D
  • Daſtard, alias Waſtard, natural ſon to Sir Adam Gurdon 352
  • Daws breed in unlikely places 59
  • Deer, red, in Wolmer-foreſt, ſome account of 17, 18
  • — fallow, in Holt-foreſt, 25
  • — their ſpiracula, or breathing places 40, 41
  • Diſperſion of birds, pretty equal, why 230
  • Dogs, Chineſe, from Canton 279
  • Domeſday-book, account of Selborne from 311
  • Dove, ſtock, or wild winter-pigeon 98
  • — ſtock, many particulars of from 110 to 114
  • Downs, Suſſex, a lovely range 163
E
  • Echo, a polysyllabical one 224
  • — why ſince mute 228
  • — ſeveral remarks on echoes 224, 229
  • — a charming deſcription of echoes from Lucretius 229
  • Echoes occaſioned by the diſcharge of ſwivel guns 285
F
  • Fair at Selborne Page 423
  • Falcon, peregrine, particulars about 278
  • Fieldfares, ſtrange that they do not breed in England 73
  • — nor in Scotland 73
  • — rooſt on the ground 77, 78
  • Fiſhes, gold and ſilver, why very amuſing in a glaſs bowl 269
  • Fly, bacon, injurious to the houſewife 90
  • — Whame, or burrel, oeſtrus curvicauda 90
  • Fly-catcher, ſome particulars of 104
  • Forms, five, reſpecting the chuſing a prior 362
  • Frogs migrate from pools 49
  • Froſt, that in January, 1768, deſcribed 287, 291
  • — that in January, 1776 291, 295
  • — that in December, 1784 296, 298
G
  • German ſilk-tail, garrulus bohemicus, ſhot 34
  • Goſſamer, a wonderful ſhower of 190, 192
  • Grange, the, belonging to Selborne Priory 424
  • Greatham, the manor farm of, its privilege in Wolmer-foreſt 20
  • Gurdon, Sir Adam, who and what 340
  • — where, a man of rank and property 340
  • — his wives 342
  • — builds an oratory in his manor-houſe, 342
  • — grants the Pleſtor to the Priory of Selborne 345
  • — becomes warden of Wolmer-foreſt 347
  • — a diſtringas againſt him, 349. Enliſts troops for the king 350
  • — His advanced age, 351. His ſeal and arms 351
  • — ſeems to have had no concerns with the Knights Templars 357
  • Gypſies, ſome particulars about 195, 196
H
  • Hail-ſtorm at Selborne in ſummer 1784 303, 305
  • Hanger, the 2
  • Haſel Wych 4
  • [] Hawkley-hanger, the amazing fall thereof Page 246, 249
  • Hawk, ſparrow, the dread of houſewives 110
  • Haze, or ſmokey fog, the peculiar one which prevailed in ſummer 1783 301, 302
  • Heath-fires, why lighted up 20
  • Hedgehog, ſome account of 77
  • Heliotropes, ſummer and winter, how to make them 244
  • Heriſſant, Monſieur, miſtaken in his reaſon why cuckoos do not uſe incubation 208, 209
  • Hirundines, Britiſh, when they arrived in three very diſtant counties 188
  • Hogs, would live, if ſuffered, to a conſiderable age 213
  • Holt Ayles, a royal foreſt; ſome account of 24
  • Houſe, vicarage, at Selborne 323
  • Howe, General, turns out wild boars in Holt-foreſt 26
  • Huxham, Dr. his account of rain at Plymouth 284
I
  • Jar-bird, what 47
  • Indentura Prioris de Selborne tradit. Petro Bernes ſacriſiae 463
  • Inſtinct, ſometimes varies and conforms to circumſtances 274
  • — often perfectly uniform 275
  • Johanna, daughter and heireſs of Sir A. Gurdon, grants lands and tenements to the Priory 352
  • Ireland, why worthy the attention of a naturaliſt 107
K
  • Knights Templars, had conſiderable property at Selborne 353
  • — lived in a mutual intercourſe of good offices with the Priory 355
L
  • Lanes, hollow, rocky, their peculiarities 11
  • — abound with filices 11
  • Langelande, Robert, ſevere on the religious 381
  • [] Langriſh, Nicholas, who had been a chantry prieſt, ſent by Mogdalen college to celebrate maſs at the diſſolved Priory of Selborne Page 412
  • Larks, white, probably ſnow-flakes 42
  • — graſs-hopper, ſome curious circumſtances about 45
  • Leper, a miſerable one in this village 220
  • Leproſy, why probably leſs common than of old 221, 224
  • Leveret, ſuckled by a cat 214
  • Linnets, congregate and chirp 37
  • Loaches from Ambreſbury 52, 53
  • Longſpee, Ela, founds a chantry at Selborne 359
  • — who and what 360
M
  • Malm, black, what ſort of ſoil 3
  • Ditto, white 3
  • Manors and lands of the Priory of Selborne 465
  • March, the month of, two wonderfully hot days in March 1777; the effects of that heat 218, 219
  • Martin, houſe, ſeen very late 59
  • — houſe, a monography of 157, 162
  • — ſand, or bank, a monography of 175, 179
  • — houſe, farther circumſtances about 263
  • — houſe, more particulars concerning 272
  • Martin, Pope, his bull touching the revoking of certain things alienated from the Priory of Selborne 379
  • Mercatu, de, et feriâ de Seleburne, a miſtake in biſhop Tanner 425
  • Mice, ſmall red, nondeſcript 33
  • — one of their neſts deſcribed 33, 34
  • — ſome farther account of 39
  • Migration, actual, ſomewhat like it 64
  • — at Gibraltar, ocular demonſtration of 139
  • Mills, water, the Priory of Selborne in poſſeſſion of ſeveral 417
  • Mooſe-deer, a female, ſome account of 79, 80
  • — a male, where killed 83
  • [] Morton, John, prior of Reygate, appointed prior of Selborne Page 388
  • Muſeum, countryman's, where 30
  • Muſic, it's powerful effect on ſome men's minds 275
  • Mytilus criſta galli, a curious foſſil-ſhell 7
N
  • Newt, or eft, water, ſome account of 49, 54
  • Norehill 3
O
  • Oak, a vaſt one planted on the Pleſtor 5
  • Oſprey, or ſea-eagle, where ſhot 97
  • Otter, one, where killed 82
  • Owl, brown, a tame one 31
  • — white, or barn-owl, the young not eaſily bred up 31
  • Owls hoot in different keys 143
  • — white, ſeveral particulars of 153, 155
P
  • Paradiſe of Selborne Priory 413
  • Peacocks, their train not a tail 92
  • Pettichaps, a very rare bird at Selborne 277
  • Plants, the, more rare in Selborne 234
  • Pleſtor, the, in the midſt of the village, what 5, 345
  • Plover, the ſtilt, a rare and curious bird 258, 260
  • Pond, Wolmer, it's meaſurement, fowls, &c. 23
  • Ponds on elevations, why ſeldom dry 206
  • Porch, church, it's gothic arch and folding doors 322
  • Preceptory, an unnoticed one, at Selborne 353
  • An attempt to explain what a preceptory was 357
  • Priors of Selborne, a liſt of 400
  • Priory of Selborne, when and by whom founded 334
  • — how endowed at firſt 335, 338
  • [] Priory of Selborne, it's preſent ſtate Page 421, 423
  • — paper containing the value of the lands and manors 465
Q
  • Queen's bank, why ſo called 17
R
  • Rain, the mean of, not to be aſcertained at any place till after many years 12
  • — what has fallen at Selborne of late years 12
  • — that of Selborne compared with that of Plymouth 284
  • Rat, water, a curious anecdote concerning one 75
  • Red-breaſts, why ſuppoſed to ſing in autumn only 102
  • Red-ſtart, it's ſingularities 104
  • Red-wings, the firſt birds that ſuffer by froſt 144
  • Relics belonging to the Priory of Selborne 384
  • Ring-ouſel, where found 34
  • — more particulars of 56
  • — farther account of 66
  • — more of ditto 71
  • — breed in Dartmoor and the Peak of Derby 84
  • — farther remarks concerning 96
  • Rooks, perfectly white 42
  • — an amuſing anecdote about 283
  • Ruperta, whoſe daughter and wife 24
  • Rupibus, or Roche, de la, Peter, who and what 333, 334
  • Ruſhes inſtead of candles, matter of much utility in humble life 197, 199
  • Rutland, county of, what rain fell there 138
S
  • Scallops, or pectines, where found 8
  • Scotland, in what it's maps are defective 108
  • Secta molendini, claimed by the prior of Selborne 416
  • Sedge-bird, ſome particulars about 71
  • [] Sedge-bird, more account of Page 100
  • — a delicate polyglot 124
  • Selborne pariſh, it's ſituation and abuttals 1
  • — village, how circumſtanced 2
  • — the manor of, abounds with game 11
  • — pariſh of, of vaſt extent, why 11
  • — population, births, and burials, of 13
  • — rain, quantity of, conſiderable, why 12
  • — produces near half the birds of Great Britain 104
  • — why a Saxon village 311, 312
  • — becomes a market town 346
  • Sharp, John, appointed prior 397
  • Sheep, Suſſex, horned and hornleſs 164
  • Shingles, Selborne church moſtly covered with 322
  • Slugs,* very injurious to wheat juſt come out of the ground, by eating off the blade; and by their infinite numbers occaſioning incredible havock 217
  • Snake, ſtinks ſe defendendo 72
  • Snipes, their piping and humming 47
  • Snow-fleck, ſometimes ſeen at Selborne 74
  • Sociality in the brute creation, inſtances of 193, 194
  • Sow, prodigious fecundity of one 213
  • Stone, free, it's uſes and advantages 9
  • — rag, it's qualities and uſes 9
  • — ſand, or foreſt 10
  • — yellow or ruſt colour 10
  • Stone curlew, ſome account of 43
  • — farther account of 43, 44, 88
  • [...] of animals, ſeveral inſtances of 150
  • [] Sudington, a preceptory Page 353
  • Summers, 1781 and 1783, unuſually ſultry 299, 300
  • Swallow, the houſe or chimney, a monography of 167, 172
  • — more particulars about 277
  • Swift, or black martin, a monography of 179, 187
  • — the ſame number uſually ſeems to return to the ſame place 230
  • — more circumſtances about 264
T
  • Teals, where bred 153
  • Temple, a manor houſe ſo called, deſcribed 343, 344
  • Thruſh, miſſel, very fierce and pugnacious 188
  • Timber, a large fall of, in the Holt-foreſt 26
  • Tit-mice, their mode of life and ſupport 106
  • Tortoiſe, a family one 135
  • — more particulars of 148
  • — farther circumſtances about 261
  • — more remarks reſpecting 427
  • Tower, the church 321
  • — it's bells tuneable 321
  • — motto on the treble bell, juſt as it is printed 321
  • Trees, why perfect alembics, how 204
  • Tun-bridge, by whom built 416
V
  • Vicarage of Selborne, ſome account of 327
  • Vicars of Selborne, a liſt of 327, 332
  • Viper, blind-worm, and ſnake, ſome account of 50, 51
  • Viper, pregnant one, ſome circumſtances about 210
  • Viſitatio notabilis de Seleburne, a curious document abridged 365, 372
  • — the original in Latin 439
W
  • Waldon-lodge, what, and by whom kept up Page 21
  • Waltham blacks much infeſted Wolmer-foreſt 17
  • — by their enormities occaſioned the black act 18
  • Waynflete, William of, endeavours to reform the Priory of Selborne 383
  • — diſſolves it 403, 409
  • Well-head, a fine perennial ſpring 3
  • Wells, their uſual depth in Selborne village 3
  • Whaddon chapel, where 415
  • Wheatear, the bird ſo called, ſome account of 38
  • Suſſex bird, ſo called, more particulars of 165
  • White-throat, ſome particulars about 103
  • Wincheſter, Hoadly biſhop of, his humane objection to reſtocking Waltham chace with deer 18, 19
  • Wolmer, foreſt of, ſome account of 14, 24
  • — how abutted upon 15
  • — has abounded with foſſil trees 15
  • — haunted by many ſorts of wild fowl 16
  • — once abounded with heath cocks, or black game, 16
  • — with red deer 17
  • Woodcocks, ſometimes ſluggiſh and ſleepy 141, 145
  • Wood-foſſil, where found 282
  • Wood-Loſel's, it's taper oaks 5
  • — it's raven-tree 6
  • Worms, earth, no inconſiderable link in the chain of nature, ſome account of 216
  • Wrens, willow, three ſpecies 54, 55
  • Wykeham, William of, his liberal behaviour towards the Priory of Selborne 373
  • his Viſitatio notabilis de Seleburne 439
  • Wyncheſtre, John, choſen prior of Selborne, ‘"per viam, vel formam ſimplicis compromiſſi"’ 375, 377
  • Wyndeſor, William, elected prior of Selborne irregularly, and ſet aſide by the viſitor 390
Y
  • Yard, church, of Selborne, a ſcanty one Page 322
  • Yeoman-prickers, their agility as horſemen 17, 18
  • Yew-tree, a vaſt one, in Selborne church-yard 324, 326

Appendix C LIST OF THE PLATES TO THE HISTORY OF SELBORNE, FROM THE DRAWINGS OF S. H. GRIMM.

  • I. North-eaſt view of SELBORNE, from the Short Lythe, to front the Title.
  • II. The HERMITAGE. Vignette in the Title to the Natural Hiſtory.
  • III. MYTILUS, Criſta Galli, a foſſil Page 7
  • IV. CHARADRIUS, Himantopus Page 259
  • V. SEAL of the Priory. Vide Title of the Antiquities.
  • VI. South view of SELBORNE church Page 315
  • VII. North view of SELBORNE church Page 323
  • VIII. TEMPLE, in the pariſh of Selborne Page 343
  • IX. The PLEYSTOW, vulg. the Pleſtor Page 345

Appendix D ERRATA in the HISTORY of SELBORNE.

[]
  • Page 11 Line 13 for ſcences read ſcenes.
  • Page 31 Line 15 for teems read teams.
  • Page 91 Line 7 dele comma, and for or read of.
  • Page 115 Line 21 for plantive read plaintive.
  • Page 163 Line 22 for dilation read dilatation.
  • Page 197 Line 13 for effuſus read conglomeratus.
  • Page 228 Line 7 for nurtered read nurtured.
  • Page 234 Line 14 for ſetter-worth read ſetter-wort.
  • Page 235 Line 8 for blea-berries read bil-berries.
  • Page 237 Line 2 after inceſſus dele colon, and inſert it after eſt.
  • Page 237 Line 13 over vera dele A
  • Page 240 Line 7 for winded read winged.
  • Page 246 Line 21 for Wordleham read Ward le ham, & paſſim.
  • Page 258 Line 2 for freſh-mowed read freſh-moved.
  • Page 280 Line 23 for peak-noſed read peaked-noſed.
  • Page 309 Line 8 for Woolmer read Wolmer, & paſſim.
  • Page 352 Line 12 for eſteemed read deemed.
  • Page 423 Line 18 for founded read found.
Notes
a
This ſpring produced, September 14, 1781, after a ſevere hot ſummer, and a preceding dry ſpring and winter, nine gallons of water in a minute, which is five hundred and forty in an hour, and twelve thouſand nine hundred and ſixty, or two hundred and ſixteen hogſheads, in twenty-four hours, or one natural day. At this time many of the wells failed, and all the ponds in the vales were dry.
b
This ſoil produces good wheat and clover.
c
Vide the plate in the antiquities.
d
There may probably be alſo in the chalk itſelf that is burnt for lime a proportion of ſand: for few chalks are ſo pure as to have none.
e
To ſurbed ſtone is to ſet it edgewiſe, contrary to the poſture it had in the quarry, ſays Dr. Plot. Oxfordſh. p. 77. But ſurbedding does not ſucceed in our dry walls; neither do we uſe it ſo in ovens, though he ſays it is beſt for Teynton ſtone.
f
‘"Fireſtone is full of ſalts, and has no ſulphur: muſt be cloſe grained, and have no interſtices. Nothing ſupports fire like ſalts; ſaltſtone periſhes expoſed to wet and froſt."’ Plot's Staff. p. 152.
g
A very intelligent gentleman aſſures me (and he ſpeaks from upwards of forty years experience) that the mean rain of any place cannot be aſcertained till a perſon has meaſured it for a very long period. ‘"If I had only meaſured the rain,"’ ſays he, ‘"for the four firſt years, from 1740 to 1743, I ſhould have ſaid the mean rain at Lyndon was 16 1-hf. inch for the year; if from 1740 to 1750, 18 1-hf. inches. The mean rain before 1763 was 20 1-qr. from 1763 and ſince 25 1-hf. from 1770 to 1780, 26. If only 1773, 1774 and 1775, had been meaſured, Lyndon mean rain would have been called 32 inches."’
h

A STATE of the Pariſh of SELBORNE, taken OCTOBER 4, 1783.

The number of tenements or families, 136.

The number of inhabitants in the ſtreet is 313

In the reſt of the pariſh 363

Total 676; near five inhabitants to each tenement.

In the time of the Rev. Gilbert White, Vicar, who died in 1727-8, the number of inhabitants was computed at about 500.

Average of baptiſms for 60 years.

From 1720 to 1729, both years incluſ.Males 6, 912, 9
Females 6, 0
From 1730 to 1739, both years incluſ.Males 8, 215, 3
Females 7, 1
From 1740 to 1749 incl.M. 9, 215, 8
F. 6, 6
From 1750 to 1759 incl.M. 7, 615, 7
F. 8, 1
From 1760 to 1769, incl.M. 9, 118, 0
F. 8, 9
From 1770 to 1779, incl.M. 10, 520, 3
F. 9, 8

Total of baptiſms ofMales515980
Females465

Total of baptiſms from 1720 to 1779, both incluſive — 60 years — 980.

Average of burials for 60 years.

From 1720 to 1729, both years incluſ.Males 4, 89, 9
Females 5, 1
From 1730 to 1739, both years incluſ.Males 4, 810, 6
Females 5, 8
From 1740 to 1749, incl.M. 4, 68, 4
F. 3, 8
From 1750 to 1759, incl.M. 4, 910, 0
F. 5, 1
From 1760 to 1769, incl.M. 6, 913, 4
F. 6, 5
From 1770 to 1779, incl.M. 5, 511, 7
F. 6, 2

Total of burials of MalesMales315640
Females325

Total of burials from 1720 to 1779, both incluſive — 60 years — 640.

Baptiſms exceed burials by more than one third.

Baptiſms of Males exceed Females by one tenth, or one in ten.

Burials of Females exceed Males by one in thirty.

It appears that a child, born and bred in this pariſh, has an equal chance to live above forty years.

Twins thirteen times, many of whom dying young have leſſened the chance for life.

Chances for life in men and women appear to be equal.

A TABLE of the Baptiſms, Burials, and Marriages, from January 2, 1761, to December 25, 1780, in the Pariſh of SELBORNE.
 BAPTISMS.BURIALS.MAR.
 M.F.Tot.M.F.Tot. 
1761.810182463
1762.78151014246
1763.810183475
1764.11920108186
1765.1261897166
1766.91322106164
1767.1451965112
1768.76132576
1769.9142365112
1770.10132347113
1771.106163474
1772.111021610163
1773.851375123
1774.6131928101
1775.20727138216
1776.11102146106
1777.8132173104
1778.713203475
1779.1482256115
1780.8917114153
 19818838612312324683

During this period of twenty years the births of males exceeded thoſe of females — 10.

The burials of each ſex were equal.

And the births exceeded the deaths — 140.

i
Since the paſſage above was written, I am happy in being able to ſay that the ſpinning employment is a little revived, to the no ſmall comfort of the induſtrious houſewife.
k
See his Hiſt. of Staffordſhire.
l
Old people have aſſured me, that on a winter's morning they have diſcovered theſe trees, in the bogs, by the hoar froſt, which lay longer over the ſpace where they were concealed, than on the ſurrounding moraſs. Nor does this ſeem to be a fanciful notion, but conſiſtent with true philoſophy. Dr. Hales ſaith, ‘"That the warmth of the earth, at ſome depth under ground, has an influence in promoting a thaw, as well as the change of the weather from a freezing to a thawing ſtate, is manifeſt, from this obſervation, viz. Nov. 29, 1731, a little ſnow having fallen in the night, it was, by eleven the next morning, moſtly melted away on the ſurface of the earth, except in ſeveral places in Buſhy-park, where there were drains dug and covered with earth, on which the ſnow continued to lie, whether thoſe drains were full of water or dry; as alſo where clm-pipes lay under ground: a plain proof this, that thoſe drains intercepted the warmth of the earth from aſcending from greater depths below them: for the ſnow lay where the drain had more than four feet depth of earth over it. It continued alſo to lie on thatch, tiles, and the tops of walls."’ See Hales's Haemaſtatics: p. 360. Quere, Might not ſuch obſervations be reduced to domeſtic uſe, by promoting the diſcovery of old obliterated drains and wells about houſes; and in Roman ſtations and camps lead to the finding of pavements, baths and graves, and other hidden relics of curious antiquity?
m
Statute 9 Geo. I. c. 22.
n
This chaſe remains un-ſtocked to this day; the biſhop was Dr. Hoadly.
o
For this privilege the owner of that eſtate uſed to pay to the king annually ſeven buſhels of oats.
p
In The Holt, where a full ſtock of fallow-deer has been kept up till lately, no ſheep are admitted to this day.
q

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

Note, In the beginning of the ſummer 1787 the royal foreſts of Wolmer and Holt were meaſured by perſons ſent down by government.

q

‘"In Rot. Inquiſit. de ſtatu foreſt. in Scaccar. 36. Ed. 3. it is called Aiſholt."’

In the ſame, ‘"Tit. Woolmer and Aiſholt Hantiſc. Dominus Rex habet unam capellam in haia ſuâ de Kingeſle."’ ‘"Haia, ſepes, ſepimentum, parcus: a Gall. haie and haye."’ Spelman's Gloſſary.

r
This prince was the inventor of mezzotinto.
s
This hawk proved to be the falco peregrinus; a variety.
t
See Adanſon's Voyage to Senegal.
u
See Ray's Travels, p. 466.
x
In anſwer to this account, Mr. Pennant ſent me the following curious and pertinent reply. ‘"I was much ſurpriſed to find in the ant elope ſomething analogous to what you mention as ſo remarkable in deer. This animal alſo has a long ſlit beneath each eye, which can be opened and ſhut at pleaſure. On holding an orange to one, the creature made as much uſe of thoſe orifices as of his noſtrils, applying them to the fruit, and ſeeming to ſmell it through them."’
y
Brit. Zool. edit, 1776, octavo, p. 381.
z
James, chap. iii. 7.
a
Creſſi-hall is near Spalding, in Lincolnſhire.
b
See the vignette in this book.
c
For this ſalicaria ſee letter Auguſt 30, 1769.
d
The angler's may-fly, the ephemera vulgata Linn. comes forth from it's aurelia ſtate, and emerges out of the water about ſix in the evening, and dies about eleven at night, determining the date of it's fly ſtate in about five or ſix hours. They uſually begin to appear about the 4th of June, and continue in ſucceſſion for near a fortnight. See Swammerdam, Derham, Scopoli, &c.
e
Vagrant cuckoo; ſo called becauſe, being tied down by no incubation or attendance about the nutrition of it's young, it wanders without control.
f
Charadrius oedicnemus.
g
Gryllus campeſtris.
h
In hot ſummer nights woodlarks ſoar to a prodigious height and hang ſinging in the air.
i
The light of the female glow-worm (as ſhe often crawls up the ſtalk of a graſs to make herſelf more conſpicuous) is a ſignal to the male, which is a ſlender duſky ſcarabaeus.
k
See the ſtory of Hero and Leander.
l
The little bat appears almoſt every month in the year; but I have never ſeen the large ones till the end of April, nor after July. They are moſt common in June, but never in any plenty: are a rare ſpecies with us.
m
Annus Primus Hiſtorico-Naturalis.
n
See his Elenchus vegetabilium et animalium per Auſtriam inferiorem, &c.
o
See letter liii. to Mr. Barrington.
p
Britiſh Zoology, vol. 1, p. 128.
q
p. 161.
r
p. 167.
s
p. 198.
t
p. 216.
u
p. 224.
x
p. 229.
y
Vol. 2, p 237.
z
p. 242.
a
244.
b
245.
c
270. 271.
d
269.
e
300.
f
306.
g
358.
h
360.
i
409.
k
475.
l
p. 15.
m
p. 16.
n
They eat alſo the berries of the ivy, the honey-ſuckle, and the euonymus europaeus, or ſpindle-tree.
p
Sweden 221, Great-Britian 252 ſpecies.
q
See Derham's Phyſico-theology, p. 235.
r
Some old ſportſmen ſay that the main part of theſe flocks uſed to withdraw as ſoon as the heavy Chriſtmas froſts were over.
s
Job xxxix. 16, 17.
t
This work he calls his Annus Primus Hiſtorico Naturalis.
x
See letter xxv. to Mr. Pennant.
y
See letter xlii. to Mr. Barrington.
z
I have read a like anecdote of a ſwan.
b
Iſaiah i. 3.
c
See Ulloa's Travels.
d
Mr. Courthope of Danny.
f
Sir Aſhton Lever's Muſaeum.
g
"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
"Stagna ſonat" —
h
John Antony Scopoli, of Carniola, M.D.
i
Tobit 2. 10.
k
See Bell's Travels in China.
1.
A beſom of this ſort is to be ſeen in Sir Aſhton Lever's Muſeum.
m
For a ſimilar practice, ſee Plot's Staffordſhire.
n
Vide Kalm's Travels to North-America.
o
Hiſtoire de l'Academie Royale, 1752.
q
Farmer Young, of Norton-farm, ſays that this ſpring (1777) about four acres of his wheat in one field was entirely deſtroyed by ſlugs, which ſwarmed on the blades of corn, and devoured it as faſt as it ſprang.
r
See Leviticus, chap. xiii. and xiv.
s
Viz. Six hundred bacons, eighty carcaſſes of beef, and ſix hundred muttons.
t
‘"In monaſteries the lamp of knowledge continued to burn, however dimly. In them men of buſineſs were formed for the ſtate: the art of writing was cultivated by the monks; they were the only proficients in mechanics, gardening, and architecture."’ See Dalrymple's Annals of Scotland.
u
See the late Voyages to the ſouth-ſeas.
x
See Spectator, Vol. VII, No. 512.
y
We have obſerved that they caſt theſe ſkins in April, which are then ſeen lying at the mouths of their holes.
z
Exod. viii. 3.
a
For various methods by which ſeveral inſects ſhift their quarters, ſee Derham's Phyſico-Theology.
b
See my tenth and eleventh letter to that gentleman.
c
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.
d
The Chineſe word for a dog to an European ear ſounds like quihloh.
d
See Letter xli. to Mr. Pennant.
f
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 an half of rain. And the terrible long froſt in 1739-40 ſet in after a rainy ſeaſon, and when the ſprings were very high.
g

At Selborne the cold was greater than at any other place that the author could hear of with certainty: though ſome reported at the time that at a village 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.

h
Mr. Miller, in his Gardener's Dictionary, ſays poſitively that the Portugal laurels remained untouched in the remarkable froſt of 1739-40. So that either that accurate obſerver was much miſtaken, or elſe the froſt of December 1784 was much more ſevere and deſtructive than that in the year above mentioned.
1.
Seleſburne, Seleburne, Selburn, Selbourn, Selborne, and Selborn, as it has been variouſly ſpelt at different periods, is of Saxon derivation; for Sel ſignifies great, and burn torrens, a brook or rivulet: ſo that the name ſeems to be derived from the great perennial ſtream that breaks out at the upper end of the village.—Sel alſo ſignifies bonus, item, foecundus, fertilis. ‘" [...]: foecunda graminis clauſura; fertile paſcuum: a meadow in the pariſh of Godelming is ſtill called Sal-gars-ton." Lye's Saxon Dictionary, in the Supplement, by Mr. Manning.
k
Thus the name of Aldred ſignifies all-reverend, and that of Kemp means a ſoldier. Thus we have a church-litton, or encloſure for dead bodies, and not a church-yard: there is alſo a Culver-croft near the Grange-farm, being the encloſure where the priory pigeon-houſe ſtood, from culver a pigeon. Again there are three ſteep paſtures in this pariſh called the Lithe, from Hlithe, clivus. The wicker-work that binds and faſtens down a hedge on the top is called ether, from ether an hedge. When the good women call their hogs they cry ſic, ſic *, not knowing that ſic is Saxon, or rather Celtic, for a hog. Coppice or bruſh wood our countrymen call riſe, from hris, frondes; and talk of a load of riſe. Within the author's memory the Saxon plurals, houſen and peaſon, were in common uſe. But it would be endleſs to inſtance in every circumſtance: he that wiſhes for more ſpecimens muſt frequent a farmer's kitchen. I have therefore ſelected ſome words to ſhew how familiar the Saxen dialect was to this diſtrict, ſince in more than ſeven hundred years it is fur from being obliterated.
*
[...] Laconus; un Porceau chez les Lacèdemoniens: ce mot a ſans doute eſtè pris [...] ſic, pour marqu [...] un porceau. Encore aujour'huy quand les Bretons chaſſent ces animaus, ils ne diſent point autrement, que ſic, ſic. Antiquitè de la Nation, et de la Langue des Celtes, par Pezron.
l
Well-head ſignifies ſpring head, and not a deep pit from whence we draw water. For particulars about which ſee Letter I. to Mr. Pennant.
l
The pariſh of Kingſley lies between, and divides Woolmer-foreſt from Ayles Holt-foreſt. See Letter IX. to Mr. Pennant.
m
‘"Item, paid at the lodge at Woolmer, when the king was ſtag-hunting there, to Morris Ken, of the kitchen, becauſe he rode before the king and often fell from his horſe, at which the king laughed exceedingly—a gift, by command, of twenty ſhillings." A MSS. in poſſeſſion of Thomas Aſtle, eſq. containing the private expenſes of Edward II.
n
In the ſame manner, to compare great things with ſmall, did Wykeham, when he new-built the cathedral at Wincheſter, from the tower weſtward, apply to his purpoſe the old piers or pillars of Biſhop Walkelin's church, by blending Saxon and Gothic architecture together. See Lowth's Life of Wykeham.
o
See Dugdale, Monaſticon Anglicanum, Vol. II. where there is a fine engraving of a Knight-Templar, by Hollar.
q
Gen. xxxv, 8.
r
Gen. xxiii, 9.
s
At Bene's, or Bin's, parſonage there is a houſe and ſtout barn, and ſeven acres of glebe: Bene's parſonage is three miles from the church.
t
See Godwin de praeſulibus, folio Cant. 1743, page 239.
u
‘"Such legacies were very common in former times. before any effectual laws were made for the repairs of highways,"’ Sir John Cuhum s Hawſted. p. 15.
x
See Godwin de Praeſulibus Anglia. Folio. London. 1743. p. 217.
y
The inſtitution at Selborne was a priory of Black-Canons of the order of St. Aguſtine, called alſo Canons-Regular. Regular-Canons were ſuch as lived in a conventual manner, under one roof, had a common refectory and dormitary, and were bound by vows to obſerve the rules and ſtatutes of their order: in fine, they were a kind of religious, whoſe diſcipline was leſs rigid than the monks. The chief rule of theſe canons was that of St. Auguſtine, who was conſtituted biſhop of Hippo, A.D. 395: but they were not brought into England till after the conqueſt; and ſeem not to have obtained the appellation of Auguſtine canons till ſome years after. Their habit was a long black caſſack, with a white rocket over it; and over that a black cloak and hood. The monks were always ſhaved: but theſe canons were their hair and beards, and caps on their heads. There were of theſe canons, and women of the ſame order called Canoneſſes, about 175 houſes.
z
The cuſtom of affixing dates to deeds was not become general in the reign of Henry III.
a
M. Paris, p. 675. & Triveti Annale.
a
M. Paris, p. 675. & Triveti Annale.
b
In Saxon [...], or [...]; viz. Plegeſtow, or Plegstow.
c
At this juncture probably the vaſt oak, mentioned p. 5, was planted by the prior, as an ornament to his new acquired market place. According to this ſuppoſition the oak was aged 432 years when blown down.
d
For more circumſtances reſpecting the Pleſtor, ſee Letter II. to Mr. Pennant.
e
Biſhop Tanner, in his Notitia Monaſtica, has made a miſtake reſpecting the market and ſair at Selborne: for in his references to Dodſworth, cart. 54. Hen. III. m. 3. he ſays, ‘"De mercatu, et ſeria de Seleburn."’ But this reference is wrong; for, inſtead of Seleburn, it proves that the place there meant was Lekeborne, or Legeborne, in the county of Lincoln. This error was copied from the index of the Cat. MSS. Angl. It does not appear that there ever was a chartered fair at Selborne. For ſeveral particulars reſpecting the preſent fair at Selborne ſee Letter XXVI. of theſe Antiquities.
f

Since the letters reſpecting Wolmer-foreſt and Ayles-holt, from p. 14 to 26, were printed, the author has been favoured with the following extracts:

In the "Act of Reſumption, 1 Hen. VII." it was provided, that it be not prejudicial to ‘"Harry at Lode, ranger of our foreſt of Wolmere, to him by oure letters patents before [...]yme gevyn."’ Rolls of Parl. Vol. VI. p. 370.

In the 11 Hen. VII. 1495—‘"Warlham [Wardleham] and the office of foreſt [foreſter] of Wolmere"’ were held by Edmund duke of Suffolk. —Rolls, ib. 474.

Act of general pardon, 14 Hen. VIII. 1523, not to extend to ‘"Rich. Bp. of Wynton [biſhop Fox] for any ſeizure or forfeiture of liberties, &c. within the foreſt of Wolmer, Alyſholt, and Newe Foreſt; nor to any perſon for waſte, &c. within the manor of Wardlam, or pariſh of Wardlam [Wardleham]; nor to abuſing, &c. of any office or fee, within the ſaid foreſts of Wolmer or Alyſholt, or the ſaid park of Wardlam."’—County Suth't. Rolls prefixt to 1ſt Vol. of Journals of the Lords, p. xciii. b.

To theſe may be added ſome other particulars, taken from a book lately publiſhed, entitled ‘"An Account of all the Manors, Meſſuages, Lands, &c. in the different Counties of England and Wales, held by Leaſe from the Crown; as contained in the Report of the Commiſſioners appointed to inquire into the State and Condition of the Royal Foreſts,"’ &c.—London, 1787.

"Southampton."

P. 64, ‘"A fee-farm rent of £31 2s. 11d. out of the manors of Eaſt and Weſt Wardleham; and alſo the office of lieutenant or keeper of the foreſt or chaſe of Aliceholt and Wolmer, with all offices, fees, commodities, and privileges thereto belonging.’

‘"Names of leſſees, William earl of Dartmouth and others (in truſt.)’

‘"Date of the laſt leaſe, March 23, 1780; granted for ſuch term as would fill up the ſubſiſting term to 31 years.’

‘"Expiration March 23, 1811."’

‘"Appendix, No. III."’ ‘"Southampton."’ ‘"Hundreds—Selborne and Finchdeane."’ ‘"Honours and manors," &c.’

‘"Aliceholt foreſt, three parks there.’

‘"Benſted and Kingſley; a petition of the pariſhioners concerning the three parks in Aliceholt foreſt."’

William, firſt earl of Dartmouth, and paternal grandfather to the preſent lord Stawel, was a leſſee of the foreſts of Aliceholt and Wolmer before brigadier-general Emanuel Scroope Howe.

g
See Letter II. of theſe Antiquities.
h
Hocheleye, now ſpelt Hawkley, is in the hundred of Selborne, and has a mill at this day.
j
Reg. Wynton, Stratford, but query Stratford; for Stratford was not biſhop of Winton till 1323, near thirty years afterwards.
k
From the collection of Thomas Martin, Eſq. in the Antiquarian Repertory, p. 109, No. XXXI.
l
Durton, now called Dorton, is ſtill a common for the copyholders of Selborne manor.
m

The MILITARY ORDERS of the RELIGIOUS.

The Knights Hoſpitalars of St. John of Jeruſalem, afterwards called Knights of Rhodes, now of Malta, came into England about the year 1100. 1 Hen. I.

The Knights Templars came into England pretty early in Stephen's reign, which commenced 1135. The order was diſſolved in 1312, and their eſtates given by act of Parliament to the Hoſpitalars in 1323. (all in Edw. II.) though many of their eſtates were never actually enjoyed by the ſaid Hoſpitalars. Vid. Tanner, p. xxiv. x.

The commandries of the Hoſpitalars, and preceptories of Templars, were each ſubordinate to the principal houſe of their reſpective religion in London. Although theſe are the different denominations, which Tanner at p. xxviii. aſſigns to the cells of theſe different orders, yet throughout the work very frequent inſtances occur of preceptories attributed to the Hoſpitalars; and if in ſome paſſages of Notitia Monaſt, commandries are attributed to the Templars, it is only where the place afterwards became the property of the Hoſpitalars, and ſo is there indifferently ſtyled preceptory or commandry; ſee p. 243, 263, 276, 577, 678. But, to account for the firſt obſerved inaccuracy, it is probable the preceptories of the Templars, when given to the Hoſpitalars, were ſtill vulgarly, however, called by their old name of preceptories; whereas in propriety the ſocieties of the Hoſpitalars were indeed (as has been ſaid) commandries. And ſuch deviation from the ſtrictneſs of expreſſion in this caſe might occaſion thoſe ſocieties of Hoſpitalars alſo to be indifferently called preceptories, which had originally been veſted in them, having never belonged to the Templars at all.—See in Archer, p. 609. Tanner, p. 300. col. 1. 720. note e.

It is obſervable that the very ſtatute for the diſſolution of the Hoſpitalars holds the ſame language; for there, in the enumeration of particulars, occur ‘"commandries, preceptories."’ Codex, p. 1190. Now this intercommunity of names, and that in an act of parliament too, made ſome of our ableſt antiquaries look upon a preceptory and commandry as ſtrictly ſynonymous; accordingly we find Camden, in his Britannia, explaining praeceptoria in the text by a commandry in the margin, p. 356. 510. J. L.

Commandry, a manor or chief meſſuage with lands, &c. belonging to the priory of St. John of Jeruſalem; and he who had the government of ſuch houſe was called the commander, who could not diſpoſe of it but to the uſe of the priory, only taking thence his own ſuſtenance, according to his degree, who was uſually a brother of the ſame priory. Cowell. He adds (confounding theſe with preceptories) they are in many places termed Temples, as Temple Brueve in Lincolnſhire, &c. Preceptories were poſſeſſed by the more eminent ſort of Templars, whom the chief maſter created and called Praeceptores Templi. Cowell, who refers to Stephens de Juriſd. lib. 4. c. 10. num. 27.

Placita de juratis et aſſis coram Salom. de Roff et ſoeiis ſuis juſtic. Itiner. apud Wynton. &c. anno regni R. Edwardi fil. Reg. Hen. octavo.—‘"et Magr. Milicie Templi in Angl. ht emendaſsē panis, & ſuis [cereviſiae] in Sodington, & neſcint qo. war. et—et magiſt. Milicie Templi nōn vēn iō diſtr."’ Chapter-houſe, Weſtminſter.

n

Notitia Monaſtica, p. 155.

‘"Wincheſter, Newminſter. King Alfred founded here firſt only a houſe and chapel for the learned monk Grimbald, whom he had brought out of Flanders: but afterwards projected, and by his will ordered, a noble church or religious houſe to be built in the cemetery on the north ſide of the old minſter or cathedral; and deſigned that Grimbald ſhould preſide over it. This was begun A.D. 901, and finiſhed to the honour of the Holy Trinity, Virgin Mary, and St. Peter, by his ſon king Edward, who placed therein ſecular canons: but A.D. 963 they were expelled, and an abbot and monks put in poſſeſſion by biſhop Ethelwold.

‘"Now the churches and habitations of theſe two ſocieties being ſo very near together, the differences which were occaſioned by their ſinging, bells, and other matters, aroſe to ſo great a height, that the religious of the new monaſtery thought fit, about A.D. 1119, to remove to a better and more quiet ſituation without the walls, on the north part of the city called HYDE, where king Henry I. at the inſtance of Will. Gifford, biſhop of Winton, founded a ſtately abbey for them. St. Peter was generally accounted patron; though it is ſometimes called the monaſtery of St. Grimbald, and ſometimes of St. Barnabas,"’ &c.

Note. A few years ſince a county bridewell, or houſe of correction, has been built on the immediate ſite of Hide Abbey. In digging up the old foundations the workmen found the head of a croſier in good preſervation.

o
Robert Saunforde was maſter of the Temple in 1241; Guido de Foreſta was the next in 1292. The former is fifth in a liſt of the maſters in a MS. Bib. Cotton. Nero. E. VI.
p
Americus Vaſci, by his name, muſt have been an Italian, and had been probably a ſoldier of fortune, and one of Gordon's captains. Americus Veſpucio, the perſon who gave name to the new world, was a florentine.
q

In two or three ancient records relating to St. Oſwald's hoſpital in the city of Worceſter, printed by Dr. Naſh, p. 227 and 228, of his collections for the hiſtory of Worceſterſhire, the words preceptorium and preceptoria ſignify the maſterſhip of the ſaid hoſpital: ‘"ad preceptorium five magiſterium preſentavit—preceptorii five magiſterii patronus. Vacavit dicta preceptoria ſeu magiſterium—ad preceptoriam et regimen dicti hoſpitalis—Te preceptorem five magiſtrum prefecimus."’

Where preceptorium denotes a building or apartment it may probably mean the maſter's lodgings, or at leaſt the preceptor's apartment, whatſoever may have been the office or employment of the ſaid preceptor.

A preceptor is mentioned in Thoreſby's Ducatus Leodienſis, or Hiſtory of Leeds, p. 225, and a deed witneſſed by the preceptor and chaplain before dates were inſerted.—Du Preſne's Supplement: ‘"Preceptoriae, praedia preceptoribus aſſignata."’Cowel, in his Law Dictionary, enumerates ſixteen preceptoriae, or preceptories, in England; but Sudington is not among them.—It is remarkable that Gurtierus, in his Hiſtoria Templariorum Amſtel. 1691, never once mentions the words preceptor or preceptorium.

r
A chantry was a chapel joined to ſome cathedral or pariſh church, and endowed with annual revenues for the maintenance of one or more prieſts to ſing maſs daily for the ſoul of the founder, and others.
s
For what is ſaid more reſpecting this chantry ſee Letter III. of theſe Antiquities.—Mention is made of a Nicholas Langriſh, capellanus de Selborne, in the time of Henry VIII. Was he chantry-chaplain to Ela Longſpee, whoſe maſſes were probably continued to the time of the reformation? More will be ſaid of this perſon hereafter.
t
Ancient deeds are often dated on a Sunday, having been executed in churches and church-yards for the ſake of notoriety, and for the conveniency of procuring ſeveral witneſſes to atteſt.
u
Ela Longſpee, counteſs of Saliſbury, in 1232 founded a monaſtery at Lacock, in the county of Wilts, and alſo another at Hendon, in the county of Somerſet, in her widowhood, to the honour of the Bleſſed Virgin and St. Bernard. CAMDEN.
x
Thus ſhe ſurvived the foundation of her chantry at Selborne fifteen years. About this lady and her mother conſult Dugdale's Baronage, I. 72, 175, 177.—Dugdale's Warwickſhire, I. 383,—Leland's Itin. II. 45.
y
Stratford was biſhop of Wincheſter from 1323 to 1333, when he was tranſlated to Canterbury.
z
See Lowth's Life of Wykeham.
a
Letters of this ſort from Dr. Layton to Thomas Lord Cromwell are ſtill extant.
b
A collation was a meal or repaſt on a faſt day in lieu of a ſupper.
c
The rule alluded to in Item 10th, of not ſleeping naked, was enjoined the Knights Templars, who alſo were ſubject to the rules of St. Auguſtine. See Gurtleri Hiſt. Templariorum.
d
Conſidering the ſtrong propenſity in human nature towards the pleaſures of the chaſe, it is not to be wondered that the canons of Selborne ſhould languiſh after hunting, when, from their ſituation ſo near the precincts of Wolmer-foreſt, the king's hounds muſt have been often in hearing, and ſometimes in ſight from their windows.—If the biſhop was ſo offended at theſe ſporting canons, what would he have ſaid to our modern foxhunting divines?
e

‘"Liberationes, or liberaturae, allowances of corn, &c. to ſervants, delivered at certain times, and in certain quantities, as clothes were among the allowances from religious houſes to their dependants.’ See the corrodies granted by Croyland abbey. Hiſt. of Croyland, Appendix, No XXXIV.

‘"It is not improbable that the word in after-ages came to be confined to the uniform of the retainers of ſervants of the great, who were hence called livery ſervants."’ Sir John Cullum's Hiſt. of Hawſted.

f
A corrody is an allowance to a ſervant living in an abbey or priory.
g
‘"Pitancia, an allowance of bread and beer, or other proviſion to any pious uſe, eſpecially to the religious in a monaſtery, &c. for augmentation of their commons."’ Gloſſ. to Kennett's Par. Antiq.
h

‘"The relationſhip between ſponſors and their god-children, who were called ſpiritual ſons and daughters, was formerly eſteemed much more ſacred than at preſent. The preſents at chriſtenings were ſometimes very conſiderable: the connexion laſted through life, and was cloſed with a legacy. This laſt mark of attention ſeems to have been thought almoſt indiſpenſable: for, in a will, from whence no extracts have been given, the teſtator left every one of his god-children a buſhel of barley."’ Sir John Cullum's Hiſt. of Hawſted.

‘"D. Margaretae filiae Regis primogenitae, quam filiolam, quia ejus in baptiſmo compater fuit, appellat, cyphum aureum et quadraginta libras, legavit."’ —Archbiſhop Parker de Antiquitate Eccleſ. Brit. ſpeaking of Archbiſhop Morton.

i

Du Freſue is copious on caligae of ſeveral ſorts. ‘"Hoc item de Clericis, preſertim beneficiatis: caligis ſcacatis (chequered) rubeis, et viridibus publice utentibus dicimus eſſe cenſendum."’ Statut. Eccleſ. Tutel. The chequered boots ſeem to be the highland plaid ſtockings.—‘"Burnetum, i. e. Brunetum, pannus non ex lanâ nativi coloris confectus."’‘"Sotularium, i. e. ſubtalaris, quia ſub talo eſt. Peculium genus, quibus maxime Monachi nocte utebantur in aeſtate; in hyeme vero Soccis."’

This writer gives many quotations concerning Sotularia, which were not to be made too ſhapely; nor were the caligae to be laced on too nicely.

k
‘"Men abhorred the offering of the Lord." 1 Sam. chap. ii. v. 17. Strange as this account may appear to modern delicacy, the author, when firſt in orders, twice met with ſimilar circumſtances attending the ſacrament at two churches belonging to two obſcure villages. In the firſt he found the inſide of the chalice covered with birds' dung; and in the other the communion-cloth ſoiled with cabbage and the greaſy drippings of a gammon of bacon. The good dame at the great farm-houſe, who was to furniſh the cloth, being a notable woman, thought it beſt to ſave her clean linen, and ſo ſent a foul cloth that had covered her own table for two or three Sundays before.
l
" — ne turpe toral, ne ſordida mappa
"Corruget nares; ne non et cantharus, et lanx
"Oftendat tibi te —"
m
Yet in ten years time we find, by the Notabilis Viſitatio, that all their relics, plate, veſtments, title-deeds, &c. were in pawn.
n
Lowth's Life of Wykeham.
o
It ſeems here as if the canons uſed to chair their new elected prior from the chapter-houſe to the high altar of their convent church. In letter XXI, on the ſame occaſion, it is ſaid—‘"et ſic canentes dictum electum ad majus altare eccleſie deduximus, ut apud nos moris eſt."’
p
Pope Martin V. choſen about 1417. He attempted to reform the church, but died in 1431, juſt as he had ſummoned the council of Baſil.
q
Should have been no doubt Southwick, a priory under Portſdown.
r

Mr. Barrington is of opinion that anciently the Engliſh vinea was in almoſt every inſtance an orchard; not perhaps always of apples merely, but of other fruits; as cherries, plums, and currants. We ſtill ſay a plum or cherry-orchard. See vol. III. of Archaeologia.

In the inſtance above the pope's ſecretary might inſert vineas merely becauſe they were a ſpecies of cultivation familiar to him in Italy.

r

F. 1. a. ‘"This prediction, although a probable concluſion concerning a king who after a time would ſuppreſs the religious houſes, is remarkable. I imagined it might have been foiſted into the copies in the reign of king Henry VIII. but it is to be found in MSS. of this poem, older than the year 1400."’ fol. 1. a. b.

‘"Again, where he, Piers Plowman, alludes to the Knights Templars, lately ſuppreſſed, he ſays " — Men of holie kirk "Shall turn as Templars did; the tyme approacheth nere."

‘"This, I ſuppoſe, was a favourite doctrine in Wickliffe's diſcourſes." Warton's Hiſt. of Engliſh Poetry, Vol. I. p. 282.

s
How the convent came by the bone of the little finger of Saint John the Baptiſt does not appear: probably the founder, while in Paleſtine, purchaſed it among the Aſiatics, who were at that time great traders in relics. We know from the beſt authority that as ſoon as Herod had cruelly beheaded that holy man ‘"his diſciples came and took up the body and buried it, and went and told Jeſus."’ Matt. iv. 12.—Farther would be difficult to ſay.
t
November 20, in the calendar, Edmund king and martyr, in the 9th century. See alſo a Sanctus Edmundus in Godwin, among the archbiſhops of Canterbury, in the 13th century; his ſurname Rich, in 1234.
u

April 3, ibid. Richard biſhop of Chicheſter, in the 13th century; his ſurname De la Wich, in 1245.

Junctorium, perhaps a joint or limb of St. Richard; but what particular joint the religious were not ſuch oſteologiſts as to ſpecify. This barbarous word was not to be found in any dictionary conſulted by the author.

x

‘"Pecten inter miniſteria ſacra recenſetur, quo ſcil. ſacerdotes ac clerici, antequam in eccleſiam procederent, crines pecterent. E quibus colligitur monachos, tunc temporis, non omnino tonſos fuiſſe."’ Du Freſne.

The author remembers to have ſeen in great farm houſes a family comb chained to a poſt for the uſe of the hinds when they came in to their meals.

u
If biſhop Wykeham was ſo diſturbed (ſee Notab. Viſitatio) to find the number of canons reduced from fourteen to eleven, what would he have ſaid to have ſeen it diminiſhed below one third of that number?
x
Here we ſee that all the canons were changed in ſix years; and that there was quite a new chapter, Berne excepted, between 1472 and 1478; for, inſtead of Wyndeſor, London, and Stratfeld, we find Aſhford, Clydgrove, Aſhton, and Canwood, all new men, who were ſoon gone in their turn off the ſtage, and are heard of no more. For, in ſix years after, there ſeem to have been no canons at all.
y
See, in Letter XI. of theſe Antiquities, the reaſon why prior John —, who had tranſactions with the Knight's Templars, is placed in the liſt before the year 1262.
z
Eccleſia Conventualis de Novo Loco was the monaſtery afterwards called the New Minſter, or Abbey of Hyde, in the city of Wincheſter. Should any intelligent reader wonder to ſee that the prior of Hyde Abbey was commiſſary to the biſhop of Wintōn, and ſhould conclude that there was a miſtake in titles, and that the abbot muſt have been here meant; he will be pleaſed to recollect that this perſon was the ſecond in rank; for, ‘"next under the abbot, in every abbey, was the prior."’ Preſ. to Notit. Monaſt. p. xxix. Beſides, abbots were great perſonages, and too high in ſtation to ſubmit to any office under the biſhop.
a
There is nothing remarkable in this bull of pope Innocent except the ſtatement of the annual revenue of the Priory of Selborne, which is therein eſtemated at 160 flor. curi; whereas biſhop Godwin ſets it at 337l. 15s.d. Now a floren, ſo named, ſays Camden, becauſe made by Florentines, was a gold coin of king Edward III. in value 6s. whereof 160 is not one ſeventh part of 337l. 15s.d.
a
The biſhops of Wincheſter were patrons of the Priory.
b
It may not be amiſs to mention here that various names of tithings, farms, fields, woods, &c. which appear in the ancient deeds, and evidences of ſeveral centuries ſtanding, are ſtill preſerved in common uſe with little or no variation:—as Norton, Southington, Durton, Achangre, Blackmore, Bradſhot, Rood, Pleſtor, &c. &c. At the ſame time it ſhould be acknowledged that other places have entirely loſt their original titles, as le Buri and Trucſtede in this village; and la Liega, or la Lyge, which was the name of the original ſite of the Priory, &c.
c
Men at firſt heaped ſods, or fern, or heath, on their roofs to keep off the inclemencies of weather; and then by degrees laid ſtraw or haum. The firſt refinements on roofing were ſhingles, which are very ancient. Tiles are a very late and imperfect covering, and were not much in uſe till the beginning of the ſixteenth century. The firſt tiled houſe at Nottingham was in 1503.
d
There is alſo a Butt-cloſe juſt at the back of the village.
e
N. 381. ‘"Clauſure terre abbatie eccleſie parochiali de Seleburne. ix s. iii d. Reparacionibus domorum predicti prioratus iii lib. xi. s. Aque conduct. ibidem. xxiii d."’
f
There is ſtill a wood near the Priory called Tanner's wood.
g
This is a manor-farm, at preſent the property of Lord Stawell; and belonged probably in ancient times to Jo. de Venur, or Venuz, one of the firſt benefactors to the Priory.
h

See Letter XIX. of theſe Antiquities.—‘"Summa total. ſolut. de novis edificationibus, et reparacionibus per idem tempus, ut patet per comput."’

‘"Videlicet de nova edificat. Capelle Marie de Wadden. xiiii lib. vs. viiid.—Reparacionibus eccleſie Prioratus, cancellor. et capellar. eccleſiarum et capellarum de Selborne, et Eſtworhlam"’—&c. &c.

i
Sargentia, a ſort of tenure of doing ſomething for the king.
k
‘"Servitium, quo ſeudatorii grana ſua ad Domini molendinum, ibi molenda perferre, exconſuetudine, aſtringuntur."’
l
Thomas Knowles, preſident, &c. ann. Hen. 8vi. xxiiio. [viz. 1532.] demiſed to J. Whitelie their mills, &c. for twenty years. Rent. xxiii s. iiii d.Accepted Frewen, preſident, &c. ann. Caroli xv. [viz. 1640.] demiſed to Jo. Hook and Elizabeth, his wife, the ſaid mills. Rent as above.
m
A few days after this was written a new edition of this valuable work was announced, in the month of April of the year 1787, as publiſhed by Mr. Naſmith.
n
A judicious antiquary, who ſaw this vaſe, obſerved, that it poſſibly might have been a ſtandard meaſure between the monaſtery and it's tenants. The priory we have mentioned claimed the aſſize of bread and beer in Selborne manor; and probably the adjuſtment of dry meaſures for grain, &c.
o
The time when this court is held is the mid-week between Eaſter and Whitſuntide.
p
Owen Oglethorpe, preſident, &c. an. Edw. Sexti, primo [viz. 1547.] demiſed [...] Robert Arden Selborne Grange for twenty years. Rent viii.—Index of Leaſes.
c
Culver, as has been obſerved before, is Saxon for a pigeon.
d
A warren was an uſual appendage to a manor.
*
Several years ago a book was written entitled ‘"Fruit-walls improved by inclining them to the horizon:"’ in which the author has ſhewn, by calculation, that a much greater number of the rays of the ſun will fall on ſuch walls than on thoſe which are perpendicular.
a
Probably Wolveſey-houſe near Wincheſter.
a
Fratres canonicos. See Forma decreti, &c.
b
Obedientiores ſc. more regular. In virtute obedientiae occurs in Not. Viſit.
*
For the amazing ravages committed on turnips, wheat, clover, field cabbage-ſeeds, &c. by ſlugs, and a rational and eaſy method of deſtroying them, ſee a ſenſible letter by Mr. Henry Vagg, of Chilcompton, in the county of Somerſet, lately made public at the requeſt of the gentlemen of that neighbourhood.
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Citation Suggestion for this Object
TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 4043 The natural history and antiquities of Selborne in the county of Southampton with engravings and an appendix. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-5CB1-5