SELBORNE, _Jan. 22nd_, 1768.
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.
For many years past I have observed that towards Christmas vast flocks of
chaffinches have appeared in the fields; many more, I used to think, than
could be hatched in any one neighbourhood. But, when I came to observe
them more narrowly, I was amazed to find that they seemed to me to be
almost all hens. I communicated my suspicions to some intelligent
neighbours, who, after taking pains about the matter, declared that they
also thought them mostly 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.
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 (_oenanthe_)
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.
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
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 _Meruloe torquatoe_.
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
nearly a hundred, most of which were taken, and some I saw. I measured
them, and found that, from nose to tail, they were just two inches and a
quarter, 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 its tail. We have had a very severe frost and deep snow this
month. My thermometer was one day fourteen degrees and a half below the
freezing-point, within doors. The tender evergreens were injured pretty
much. It was very providential that the air was still, and the ground
well covered with snow, else vegetation in general must have suffered
prodigiously. There is reason to believe that some days were more severe
than any since the year 1739-40.