But facts are upon record which prove the possibility of Toads surviving

a protracted incarceration, effected by man, and therefore without their

will. In 1809, on opening a gap in a wall at Bamborough, in

Northumberland, for the passage of carts, a Toad, which had been

incarcerated in the centre of a wall, was found alive, and set at

liberty. A mason, named George Wilson, when building this wall, sixteen

years before, had wantonly immured the animal, in a close cavity formed

of lime and stone, just sufficient to contain it, and which he plastered

so closely as seemingly to prevent the admission of air. When

discovered, it seemed at first, as must naturally be supposed, in a very

torpid state; but it soon recovered animation and activity, and, as if

sensible of the blessings of freedom, made its way to a collection of

stones, and disappeared.[107]

Mr F. W. L. Ross of Broadway House, near Topsham, an acute and

experienced naturalist, narrates the following circumstances:--"In the

year 1821, I was residing in the country, and in my court-yard was a set

of stone steps for mounting on horseback. These being useless to me, I

desired they might be removed. On taking them down, the lowest step, a

coarse red conglomerate, measuring about three feet in length, ten

inches in depth, and about fourteen in width, was raised by a heavy bar.

It had been well bedded in mortar, in which, while soft, a Toad had been

evidently placed, as there was no appearance of any way by which it

could have found ingress or egress, the mould or cast being as perfect

as if taken in plaster. On the removal of the stone, the Toad remained

torpid for a few minutes, when it seemed to revive, and then crept out.

From the owners of the property I ascertained that the steps had been

placed there forty-five years before, and, to the best of their

knowledge, had never been moved.

"The second account is from a clergyman, and originated in my informing

him of the above. He caused a pit to be dug in his garden, six feet

deep; at the bottom was laid a slate, on which a full-sized Toad was

placed, with an inverted flower-pot over it. The hole and edges were

well luted with clay; the pit was then filled in, and on that day twelve

months reopened, when the Toad was found alive, and as well as when

inclosed in its living tomb. If, therefore, it could exist in such a

state for twelve months, it is not impossible that it might do so for a

much longer period."[108]

These curious facts derive confirmation and augmented interest from

some apparently parallel conditions observed of other animals, widely

removed in the organic scale from the Reptilia, and that on both sides.

Some glimpses of an indefinitely protracted torpidity in Wasps are given

to us in a communication from an eminent entomologist, Mr G. Wailes of

Newcastle, to the Entomological Society of London, and published in

their "Proceedings" of March 5, 1860. These Rip Van Winkles of the

insect race choose, it seems, the tops of loftiest mountains for going

to their long sleep. Who knows what might be found if a clever

insect-hunter were to go stone-turning on the peaks of Ararat? Read the

following, young enterprising entomologists! and set out.

"It is very evident that we have a great deal yet to learn about the

Social Wasps, and therefore the following remarks as to _Vespa vulgaris_

may be interesting. Ever since 1829 I have, at intervals, searched the

summit of Skiddaw (3022 feet) for specimens of _Leistus montanus_, and

on every occasion have taken out from underneath the loose fragments of

the slate perfectly torpid females of this Wasp, with the wings, legs,

antennae, &c., precisely in the state in which we find them during winter

in the lower lands. Not unfrequently I have met with dead specimens

which seemed to have perished in the same dormant state, and been there

for a year or two at least. Mr Smith, in his catalogue of the British

Vespadae, under this species, states that Mr Wollaston found the female

abundant under stones on the extreme summit of Gribon Oernant, near

Llangollen, in September 1854, adding, 'probably hybernating for the

winter,' but had evidently forgotten my writing to him on the subject.

My visits to the mountain have extended from the latter end of June to

the latter end of August, and therefore it necessarily follows that

either these specimens of the female Wasp were those of the previous

year, or that this sex appears much earlier in the season than has

hitherto been supposed. But in either case the question arises, why are

they torpid during these the hottest months of the year? It is quite

true that the temperature of the altitude is below that of the plains,

especially during the night, and I have myself been enveloped in falling

sleet and snow more than once, both in June and August, though, as a

rule, the Cumberland mountains seldom have a thick covering of snow, and

often only a few inches once or twice in the winter. Still, the

temperature of ordinary mountains always approaches that of the plains

in summer, and, one would have expected, was in Britain at least

sufficiently high to rouse these Wasps in their winter quarters, when

every other insect under the same stones was active and stirring, and

the air so warm and bright that _Larentia salicata_ and _Crambus

furcatillus_ were sporting in the mid-day sun above them. Such, however,

was not the case, and when turned out of their snug, dry quarters, they

allowed themselves to be handled and put into pill-boxes just as they do

in winter. We may therefore ask, when are these sleepers to awake? for

as the ground temperature reaches its maximum during the months in which

I have met with them, and Mr Wollaston has found them in a similar

state in September, when a declining temperature has set in, we must

conclude that for that year all prospect of their subsequent issue from

their retreats through the influence of heat is barred. Can this be

called hybernation, as it is usually understood? Or is there some other

cause of torpidity besides mere cold? Or are we to conclude that when

once put to sleep in these lofty regions, they wake no more unless

kindly removed into a milder clime by a stray entomologist, when, as I

have always noticed, they become as active as those of the warm

lowlands?"[109]

Mr Westwood, in the conversation that ensued on this communication,

suggested that these female Wasps had been the founders of colonies in

the preceding spring, and, after performing their maternal duties, had

retired to die in the situations in which they were found by Mr Wailes.

But with all due deference to so great an authority, is not this another

example of those "explanations" which are thrown off without a due

consideration of the exigencies of the case in hand--explanations which

really explain nothing? For though this hypothesis might account for

Wasps found under such conditions in June, it will not do for the

September findings. Insects that had performed the end of their

existence and had retired to die in June, would not live through July

and August, and be found alive in September. Besides, Mr Wailes

distinctly affirms, that _they always become active_ when removed to a

milder clime, which is proof positive that they had not retired to die.

Mr Smith's hypothesis, that they are "probably hybernating for the

winter," will not account for their torpidity in June and July. Mr

Westwood's hypothesis, that they are moribund individuals after their

spring work, will not explain their vitality till September, and their

revivification when removed.

But these are insects; and the difference between vertebrate and

invertebrate life is so vast that, after all, the possibilities of the

latter may not have much bearing on those of the former. What, then,

shall we say to an indefinite prolongation of life under like dreary

conditions in--_Bats_? _Bats_, which are true vertebrata; and no

amphibia grovelling at the bottom of the vertebrate ladder, where the

dim flame of spinal life is just glimmering in the socket, but

_Mammalia_, and those of nearly the highest type;--_Bats_, which Linnaeus

associated with _Homo sapiens_ himself in his first Order _Primates_!

Can _these_ live for years shut up from light and food and air? these

great-chested, well-lunged, warm-blooded, aerial quadrupeds?

"Impossible! I would not believe it, if----" Stay! make no rash vows;

but read, weigh, and judge. Remember,--both the following statements are

by clergymen, each of whom is a well-known, careful, experienced

naturalist.

"A very curious instance," says Mr Pemberton Bartlett, "of the great

length of time that a Bat can remain in a state of torpidity, came under

my notice about three weeks since; and as I believe instances of the

kind are but rarely observed, perhaps an account of the facts of the

case may not prove uninteresting. Upon opening a vault in Bishopsbourne

church, the bricklayer observed a large Bat clinging to the wall.

Thinking it a curious thing to find a Bat in a vault which he knew had

not been opened for twenty years, in the evening he sent it to me by his

boy, who, when he arrived at the door, was tempted to open the basket to

look at the inmate, when most unfortunately it made its escape, and

flitted into a leaden spout which was placed against the house, from

whence I was unable to recover it. Upon learning the particulars of its

discovery, I made a careful search about the vault, but was unable to

trace any hole or crack through which the smallest Bat could have crept.

The bricklayer also informed me that there was no place where a Bat

could have entered, in the part where he opened the vault, as the

entrance was bricked up, and over the steps was a slab which fitted

close. If, indeed, it had been possible for a Bat to have got between

this, the brickwork at the entrance would most effectually have

prevented it from finding an asylum in the vault. The natural inference

therefore is, that the Bat must have got into the vault when it was last

opened, and consequently had been entombed since the year 1823! It was

most unfortunate that I was unable to decide what species it was; but,

from the bricklayer's description, I think it must have been

_Vespertilio Pipistrellus_. When first taken out of the vault it was in

a torpid state, but the effects of the air may be imagined from its

taking the first opportunity to escape in the evening; it flew,

however, far more 'leaden winged' than ever bats are wont to fly, which

was by no means marvellous, when we consider it had been out of practice

for twenty-one years."[110]

The next account, by the Rev. A. C. Smith, of Yatesbury Rectory, Calne,

is one of peculiar interest. The narrator actually witnessed the

discovery. His investigation was pursued with the cautious care, and his

statement is made with the precision, which belong to science; and the

details are so full, and his remarks so appropriate, that though the

story is somewhat long, I cannot bring myself to abridge it. It bears

date, Feb. 18, 1854. Of course, the reader will note how these two

narratives yield each other mutual corroboration.

"While effecting some repairs in the pavement of the aisle of my church,

a short time since, the masons found it necessary to remove some bricks

from the solid wall of an adjacent vault, in order the better to adjust

an iron bar intended to support the superincumbent flagstone. It seems

that one or two bricks being removed, and several large and handsome

coffins being exposed to view, curiosity tempted one of the workmen to

reach his hand in with a lighted candle, in order to see the names and

dates on the coffins; the result of which investigation shewed that the

last coffin was placed there in 1748. During this search I entered the

church, just in time to witness the extreme surprise, and the no little

consternation, of the man, whose hand had suddenly come in contact with

a Bat, suspended from the roof of the vault. The Bat was soon brought

to light; and, in its half-torpid state, placed in my hand. We then

proceeded to make a very minute examination of this vault with a lighted

candle, in order to discover, if possible, by what means the Bat could

have penetrated to its resting-place: but, although our search was very

careful and long continued, we failed to discover the smallest crack or

crevice in which a pin could be thrust. The roof was an arch of brick,

surmounted by flagstones; the sides were solid masonry, bearing no

appearance internally of decay; and the position of the vault was very

near the centre of the church: so that I was much puzzled to account for

the occurrence of the Bat in a place apparently hermetically sealed for

above a hundred years; and knew not how to combat the opinion of the

workmen, that it must have been entombed there alive since the year

1748.

"I now proceeded to institute inquiries regarding the vault in which the

Bat was found. The marble monument above, recorded the names of an old

Wiltshire family long since extinct in these parts, and the dates of the

three coffins below, corroborating the statement of the brass plate,

that the individual last buried died A.D. 1748. Several old men in the

parish remembered an adjacent vault being opened, when they were boys,

nearly sixty years since: but all positively denied that the vault in

question had ever been opened in their lives: and one, a very old man,

formerly clerk, and whose then residence abutted on the churchyard, was

very emphatic on this point. So that I am constrained to believe that

the vault has remained untouched since it received its last occupant, a

hundred and six years ago: and I am the more convinced of this from the

excessive freshness of the last coffin, the brass plate and nails of

which are as bright, and its whole appearance as new, as if it had been

placed there but yesterday, which would not have been the case had the

external air been admitted at any time since the vault was closed.

"During the time of the examination of the vault, the Bat was held in my

hand, and above an hour must have elapsed since its capture before I was

enabled to take it to the Rectory, and place it under an inverted glass:

by this time the warmth of my hand had considerably revived it, and it

wandered round its prison, snuffing about with its curious nose, and

standing up, and trying to hook itself on to the smooth glass, which

baffled all its attempts. As it obstinately refused to eat small pieces

of chopped meat, with which I tempted it to break its fast, which may

have continued a hundred and six years, and after which I should have

imagined it to be ravenous; and as it lay on its side, apparently in a

dying state, humanity urged me to give it a chance of life, by restoring

it to liberty, and I accordingly carried it to the garden, where I

placed it upon the turf, and watched its movements. At first it clung to

the blades of grass, and shivered a good deal; presently it fluttered

along the ground; soon it rose upon the wing, though in an awkward

manner, and although it sank several times, as if about to fall to the

ground, and as if it had not found the use of its wings, (which might

have been a little stiff for want of exercise, if they had been closed

above a hundred years), it passed behind a clump of trees and I saw it

no more; and then I began to regret, when too late, that I had not made

more efforts to keep it alive and watch its recovery. I know little of

the different species of Bats, but, from its diminutive size, and

extremely long ears, I should imagine it to be the _Vespertilio auritus_

of Gilbert White.

"Now, if the hypothesis be deemed absurd that the Bat had been immured

in the vault since 1748, how then are we to account for its presence

there? For although I am aware that a Bat, and especially one of the

smallest species, would creep through a very small crack or crevice, yet

the evidence of my own senses, after a very close examination, convinces

me that not even the smallest crack existed between the bricks of the

vault; and I think the evidence no less conclusive that the vault has

remained untouched for a great number of years. Again, notwithstanding

the disbelief of some, it is very generally acknowledged that Toads do

occasionally exist in blocks of stone and in timber; and the material in

which they are inclosed having gradually formed around them, they must

necessarily have been entombed, in some well-authenticated cases, for a

very long period of time. Why then, I ask, should we deny that to be

possible with the Bat, which we so readily concede to be an occurrence

by no means unusual with the Toad? I own, that, taking all these things

into account, and finding no other possible solution for the mystery, I

came to the conclusion, after mature deliberation, that the Bat had

been entombed in the vault since it last was opened in the year 1748.

That impression has increased upon longer reflection, and has been

further strengthened almost into certainty, from the perusal of a very

interesting and very similar case, recorded by the Rev. J. P. Bartlett

in an early volume of the _Zoologist_ (_Zool._, 613.)[111] That

gentleman states, that on opening a vault which had been closed for

twenty-one years, a Bat was discovered in a torpid state; that he

himself made a very careful search about the vault, and was unable to

discover any crack through which the smallest Bat could have crept; that

the vault was surrounded with brickwork; the entrance was bricked up,

and over the steps was placed a close-fitting slab; and that he could

come to no other conclusion than that the Bat had been inclosed there

for twenty-one years. I confess that I quite agree in opinion with Mr

Bartlett, and believe that the Bat discovered in the vault in

Bishopsbourne church crept in on the occasion of its last opening: and

so in the like manner with the one found in my own church; for although

there is unquestionably a vast difference between twenty-one and a

hundred and six years, yet, if we can establish the fact of a Bat

remaining torpid for the shorter period, I find no difficulty in

understanding that a sleep which would endure so long as that did, might

be protracted to a far longer period. It is most probable that many will

differ from me in opinion, and perhaps some will ridicule the idea: if

they can discover any other probable or even possible means of

accounting for the presence of the Bat in the vault, exclusive of a

crack or chink in it, or of its having been opened within the memory of

living man, both of which views I firmly oppose, I shall feel greatly

obliged by their stating their opinions in the _Zoologist_: meanwhile I

hold to my belief, that the Bat had been there for not less than _one

hundred and six years_!"[112]

[97] Bell's _Brit. Rept._ (1839), 112.

[98] _Zoologist_, 614.

[99] _Zool._, 1879.

[100] _Zool._, 3632.

[101] _Zool._, 3808.

[102] _Zool._, 3848.

[103] _Zool._, 3904.

[104] _Zool._, 5959.

[105] _Zool._, 6537.

[106] _Ibid._, 6565.

[107] Richardson's _Borderer's Table Book_, iii. 92.

[108] _Zool._, 3266.

[109] _Zool._, 6941.

[110] _Zool._, 613.

[111] See page 183, _ante_.

[112] _Zool._, 4245.

V.

HYBERNATION OF SWALLOWS.

What becomes of our swallows in the winter? They migrate, you reply,

to a warmer parallel. That is true, no doubt; though there have not

been wanting naturalists of respectable name who have maintained that

none of them ever leave the country. No doubt, however, they do migrate;

but is this true of the entire body, or only of a portion? That the

whole hirundinal population--swifts, swallows, martins, and

bank-martins--disappear from view, every one knows; for who ever saw any

of the tribe wheeling and traversing through the sky in the frosts of

January or February? But so do the Bats and the Butterflies. Now, the

Bats hybernate with us, concealing themselves in crevices, caves, hollow

trees, unused buildings, and similar places; so do the house-flies; so

do the butterflies, some species at least, and many other insects. Do

the Swallows hybernate? That they do is a very old opinion; and those

homely but wide-spread rhymes that record so many accepted facts in

popular natural history, record _this_ as a fact. Our rustic children

sing--

"The bat, the bee, the butterfly,

The cuckoo and the swallow,

The corn-crake and the wheat-ear,

They all sleep in the hollow."

Local variations--what we may call _lectiones variae_--exist; for

example, in the south-east of our island, the third line runs,

"The corn-crake and the _nightingale_."

In the north of Europe an opinion has long prevailed that the Swallows

not only hybernate in a state of torpidity, but, like the frogs and

toads, retire to the bottoms of pools to spend that dreary season. In

Berger's "Calendar of Flora," published in the _Am{oe}nitates

Academicae_, vol. iv., he puts down as the phenomenon proper to the 22d

of September, "_Hirundo submergitur_," talking, as Gilbert White

remarks, as familiarly of the Swallows going under water, as he would of

his poultry going to roost at sunset. Klein, and even Linnaeus himself,

adopted this strange opinion, which was considered to rest upon good

testimony, and that not only of the illiterate and unobservant.

Etmuller, who was Professor of Anatomy and Botany at Leipsig in the

middle of the seventeenth century, says, "I remember to have found more

than a bushel would hold of Swallows closely clustered among the reeds

of a fish-pond under the ice, all of them to appearance dead, but with

the heart still pulsating." And Derham, the acute author of

"Physico-theology," citing this statement, adds, "We had at a meeting of

the Royal Society, February 12, 1713, a further confirmation of Swallows

retiring under water in the winter from Dr Colas, a person very curious

in these matters, who, speaking of their way of fishing in the northern

parts by breaking holes and drawing their nets under the ice, saith,

that he saw sixteen Swallows so drawn out of the Lake of Lamrodt, and

about thirty out of the king's great pond in Rosneilen; and that at

Schlehitten, near a house of the Earl of Dohna, he saw two Swallows just

come out of the waters, that could, scarcely stand, being very wet and

weak, with their wings hanging on the ground; and that he observed the

Swallows to be often weak for some days after their appearance."[113]

The Academy of Upsal received the winter submersion of the Swallows as

an undoubted fact, and even Cuvier admits as "well authenticated, that

they fall into a lethargic state during winter, and even that they pass

that season at the bottom of marshy waters."[114] One would think that a

zoological statement which Linnaeus and Cuvier accepted, must be fact;

yet it remains utterly improbable. In Germany, a reward of an equal

weight in silver was publicly offered to any one who should produce

Swallows found under water, but we are assured that no one was found to

claim the money.

We may safely dismiss the notion of submersion till better

authenticated; but that of torpidity is still open to examination.

Statements to the effect that quantities of Swallows in a death-like

condition have been found in hollow trees, holes in cliffs, banks, &c.,

are even more common than those of their submersion; and they seem to

obtain credence in all the temperate or cold regions where the Swallows

are found. It is hard to think that a persuasion so widely diffused can

be wholly groundless.

Peter Collinson, the friend and correspondent of Linnaeus, communicated

to the Royal Society the following statement by M. Achard:--"In the

latter end of March I took my passage down the Rhine to Rotterdam. A

little below Basel, the south bank of the river was very high and steep,

of a sandy soil, sixty or eighty feet above the water.

"I was surprised at seeing, near the top of the cliff, some boys tied to

ropes, hanging down doing something. The singularity of these

adventurous boys, and the business they so daringly attempted, made us

stop our navigation, to inquire into the meaning of it. The waterman

told us they were reaching the holes in the cliffs for Swallows or

Martins, which took refuge in them, and remained there all the winter,

until warm weather, and then they came abroad.

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