_August 4th_, 1767.
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 towards 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.
Young broods of swallows began to appear this year on July 11th, 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 18th. 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 29th; and
yet they totally disappeared with us by the 5th October.
How strange it is that the swift, which seems to live exactly the same
life with the swallow and house-martin, should leave us before the middle
of August invariably! while the latter stay often till the middle of
October; and once I saw numbers of house-martins on the 7th 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
its stand on the top of some stake or post, from whence it springs forth
on its prey, catching a fly in the air, and hardly ever touching the
ground, but returning still to the same stand for many times together.
I perceive there are more than one species of the _motacilla 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.
Mr. Stillingfleet makes a question whether the blackcap (_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 nondescript
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 excellent swimmer and diver: it answers exactly
to the _mus amphibius_ of Linnaeus (see _Syst. Nat_.), which he says
"_natat in fossis et 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 . . . ante hac fuisse tales cum sint
reliquiae_!"
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.