naturalist, an anxious one to the agriculturist, and of some importance to
everybody. Though it was no easy matter to throw around them a halo of
poetry, and to elevate them into epic dignity--a difficulty which was
nowise surmounted by calling them, as Grainger subsequently did, "the
whisker'd vermin race"--yet there was nothing with which they had a more
serious practical connection than the "sugar-cane." It was reckoned that
in Jamaica they consumed a twentieth part of the entire crop, and 30,000
were destroyed in one year in a single plantation. In fact, rats are to
the earth what sparrows are to the air--universally present. Unlike their
feathered analogues, we rarely see them, and consequently have little idea
of the liberality with which they are distributed over every portion of
the habitable globe. They swarm in myriads in the vast network of sewers
under our feet, and by means of our house-drains have free access to our
basements, under which they burrow; in the walls they establish a series
of hidden passages; they rove beneath the floors and the roof, and thus
establish themselves above, below, and beside us. In the remote islands
of the Pacific they equally abound, and are sometimes the only
inhabitants. But we shall not attempt to write the universal history of
the rat. It is enough if we narrate his doings in Great Britain.
There are in England two kinds of land-rats--the old English black rat,
and the Norwegian or brown rat. According to Mr. Waterton, the black rat
is the native and proper inhabitant of the island; the brown rat not only
an interloper and exterminator, but a Whig rat--a combination which he
thinks perfectly consistent. In his charming essays on Natural History he
says--
"Though I am not aware that there are any minutes in the zoological
archives of this country which point out to us the precise time at
which this insatiate and mischievous little brute first appeared among
us, still there is a tradition current in this part of the country
(Yorkshire), that it actually came over in the same ship which
conveyed the new dynasty to these shores. My father, who was of the
first order of field naturalists, was always positive upon this point,
and he maintained firmly that it did accompany the House of Hanover in
its emigration from Germany to England."
Having thus given the "little brute" a bad name, he pertinaciously hunts
him through the two volumes of his essays; nay, he does more, for, on
account of his Whiggism, he is the only wild animal banished for ever from
Waterton Hall, that happy home for all other fowls of the air and beasts
of the field, against which gamekeepers wage war as vermin. In Carpenter's
edition of Cuvier, however, an account is given of the brown rat, or
Surmulot, which, if true, entirely disposes of this pretty account of his
advent. We are there told that he originally came from Persia, where he
lives in burrows, and that he did not set out on his travels until the
year 1727, when an earthquake induced him to swim the Volga and enter
Europe by way of Astrakan.[10] When once he had set foot in England, he no
doubt treated his weaker brother and predecessor, the black rat, much as
the Stuart dynasty was treated by the house of Hanover. Though the black
rat was not himself an usurper, but rather an emigrant who took possession
of an unoccupied territory, his reign is also said by some to have been
contemporaneous with an earlier change in the royal line of England, for
he is asserted to have come over in the train of the Conqueror. He still
abounds in Normandy, and to this day is known in Wales under the name of
Llyoden Ffancon--the French mouse.
Rats are no exception to the law which, Wordsworth says, prevails among
"all the creatures of flood and field."
"The good old rule,
Sufficeth them--the simple plan,
That they should take who have the power,
And they should keep who can."
But the black rat has kept more than is commonly imagined. Mr. Waterton is
mistaken when he adopts the popular notion that the old English breed
which came in with the Conqueror is almost totally annihilated by his
brown cousin. The first comer has no more been destroyed by the subsequent
invader than the Celt is annihilated by the triumphant Saxon. As we find
the former still holding their ground in Cornwall, Wales, and the
Highlands of Scotland, so we find the black rat flourishing in certain
localities. In the neighbourhood of the Tower, in Whitbread's brewery, and
in the Whitechapel sugar-refineries, he still holds his own, and woe be to
any brown trespasser who ventures into his precincts. The weaker animal
has learnt that union is strength, and, acting in masses, they attack
their powerful foe as fearlessly as a flight of swallows does a hawk; but
if an equal number of the two breeds are placed together in a cage without
food, the chances are that all the black rats will have disappeared before
morning, and, even though well fed, the brown Brobdingnags invariably eat
off the long and delicate ears of their little brethren, just as a
gourmand, after a substantial meal, amuses his appetite with a
wafer-biscuit.
The rapid spread of the rat is due to the fearlessness with which he will
follow man and his commissariat wherever he goes. Scarcely a ship leaves
a port for a distant voyage but it takes in its complement of rats as
regularly as the passengers, and in this manner the destructive little
animal has not only distributed himself over the entire globe, but, like
an enterprising traveller, continually passes from one country to another.
The colony of four-footed depredators, which ships itself free of expense,
makes, for instance, a voyage to Calcutta, whence many of the body will
again go to sea, and land perhaps at some uninhabited island where the
vessel may have touched for water. In this manner many a hoary old
wanderer has circumnavigated the globe oftener than Captain Cook, and set
his paws on twenty different shores. The rat-catcher to the East-India
Company has often destroyed as many as five hundred in a ship newly
arrived from Calcutta. The genuine ship-rat is a more delicate animal than
the brown rat, and has so strong a resemblance to the old Norman breed,
that we cannot help thinking they are intimately related. The same fine
large ear, sharp nose, long tail, dark fur, and small size, characterize
both, and a like antipathy exists between them and the Norwegian species.
It is by no means uncommon to find distinct colonies of the two kinds in
the same ship--the one confining itself to the stem, the other to the
stern of the vessel. The same arrangement is often adopted in the
warehouses of seaports, the ship's company generally locating themselves
as near the water as possible, and the landsmen in the more inland portion
of the building.
When rats have once found their way into a ship, they are secure as long
as the cargo is on board, provided they can command the great
necessary--water. If this is well guarded, they will resort to
extraordinary expedients to procure it. In a rainy night they will come on
deck to drink, and will even ascend the rigging to sip the moisture which
lies in the folds of the sails. When reduced to extremities, they will
attack the spirit-casks and get so drunk that they are unable to walk
home. The land-rat will, in like manner, gnaw the metal tubes which in
public-houses lead from the spirit-store to the tap, and is as convivial
on these occasions as his nautical relation. The entire race have a quick
ear for running liquid, and they constantly eat into leaden pipes, and,
much to their astonishment, receive a douche-bath in consequence. It is
without doubt the difficulty of obtaining water which causes them in many
cases to desert the ship the moment she touches the shore. On such
occasions they get, if possible, dry-footed to land, which they generally
accomplish by passing in Indian file along the mooring-rope, though, if no
other passage is provided for them, they will not hesitate to swim. In the
same manner they board ships from the shore, and so well are their
invading habits known to sailors, that it is common upon coming into port
to fill up the hawser holes, or else to run the mooring-cable through a
broom, the projecting twigs of which effectually stop the ingress of these
nautical quadrupeds. Their occupancy of the smaller bird-breeding islands
invariably ends in their driving away the feathered inhabitants, for they
plunder the nests of their eggs, and devour the young. The puffins have in
this way been compelled to relinquish Puffin's Island, off the coast of
Caernarvon.
The ship-rat must not be confounded with the water-rat, which is an
entirely different species. The latter partakes of the habits of the
beaver, and is somewhat like him in appearance. He possesses the same
bluff head and long fur, in which are buried his diminutive ears. He
dwells in holes in the banks of rivers, which he constructs with a land
and water entrance to provide against destruction by the sudden rising of
the stream. This animal lives entirely upon vegetable food, which he will
now and then seek at some distance inland, and we suspect that to him may
be traced many of the devastations in the fruit and vegetable gardens for
which the poor sparrows get the blame. We have seen water-rats cross a
wide meadow, climb the stalks of the dwarf beans, and, after detaching the
pods with their teeth, shell their contents in the most workmanlike
manner. They will mount vines and feed on the grapes; and a friend informs
us that on one occasion he saw a water-rat go up a ladder which was
resting against a plum-tree, and attack the fruit. If a garden is near the
haunts of water-rats, it is necessary to watch narrowly for the holes
underneath the walls, for they will burrow under the foundation with all
the vigour of sappers and miners. Such is the cunning with which they
drive their shafts, that they will ascend beneath a stack of wood, a heap
of stones, or any other object which will conceal the passage by which
they obtain an entrance. The water-rat is, however, a rare animal compared
with its first-cousin, the common brown or Norway rat, which is likewise,
as Lord Bacon says of the ant, "a shrewd thing in a garden." They select,
according to Cobbett, the prime of the dessert--melons, strawberries,
grapes, and wall-fruit; and though they do but taste of each, it is not,
as he remarks, very pleasant to eat after them. Not many years since they
existed in millions in the drains and sewers of the metropolis. Several
causes have been in operation to diminish their numbers, and in some
quarters of the town almost wholly to extinguish them. In the first place,
the method of flushing the sewers lately adopted is exceedingly fatal to
them. When the sluices are opened, go they must with the rush of waters,
and they may be seen shot out by hundreds from the mouths of the culverts
in the Thames. The fact that rats are worth three shillings a dozen for
sporting purposes proves, however, the most certain means of their
destruction, for it insures their ceaseless pursuit by the great hunter,
man. The underground city of sewers becomes one vast hunting-ground, in
which men regularly gain a livelihood by capturing them. Before entering
the subterraneous world, the associates generally plan what routes they
will take, and at what point they will meet, possibly with the idea of
driving their prey towards a central spot. They go in couples, each man
carrying a lighted candle with a tin reflector, a bag, a sieve, and a
spade; the spade and sieve being used for examining any deposit which
promises to contain some article of value. The moment the rat sees the
light, he runs along the sides of the drain just above the line of the
sewage water; the men follow, and speedily overtake the winded animal,
which no sooner finds his pursuers gaining upon him, than he sets up a
shrill squeak, in the midst of which he is seized with the bare hand
behind the ears, and deposited in the bag. In this manner a dozen will
sometimes be captured in as many minutes. When driven to bay at the end
of a blind sewer, they will often fly at the boots of their pursuers in a
most determined manner.
The favourite stronghold of the rat is that portion of the house-drain
which opens at right angles into the main sewer. Here he sits like a
sentinel, and in security watches with his keen but astonished eyes the
extraordinary apparition running with a light. It is a remarkable fact
that most untrapped house-drains are inhabited by their own particular
rats, and woe be to the intruder who ventures to interfere with those in
possession. The rat as well as the cat may thus be classed among the
domestic animals of the household, who acts as a kind of preventive puss
in keeping out the whole underground community of vermin, which otherwise
would have the run of our basements.
These vermin congregate thickest in the neighbourhood of slaughter-houses,
or, in other words, where food is most plentiful. They are frequently
found sitting in clusters on the ledge formed by the invert of the sewers.
As the scavengers of drains, they undoubtedly do good service, but it is a
poor set-off for the mischief they perpetrate in destroying the brickwork
of the sewers--burrowing in every direction, and thus constructing lateral
cesspools, the contents of which permeate the ground and filter into the
wells. In making these excavations, moreover, they invariably transfer the
earth to the main sewers, and form obstructions to the flow. The
accumulations of their paw-work have regularly to be removed in small
trucks constructed for the purpose, and if this precaution were not taken,
they would in a few years entirely destroy the vast system of subterranean
culverts which have been laboriously constructed at the expense of
millions. The pipe-drains with smooth barrels, which the rat's tooth
cannot touch, alone baffle him; indeed, the rapid flow of water in their
narrow channel prevents his even retaining his footing in them. In revenge
for thus being circumvented, he has in many cases entirely ruined the
newly-laid channel of pipes by burrowing under them, and causing them to
dip and open at the joints.
In France the sewer authorities hold an annual hunting-match, on which
occasion there is a grand capture of rats; these animals are not destined
to afford sport to the "fancy" under the tender manipulations of a dog
"Billy;" on the contrary, our neighbours have too much respect for the
integrity of his hide. We are informed that they have established a
company in Paris, upon the Hudson's Bay principle, to buy up all the rats
of the country for the sake of their skin. The soft nap of the fur when
dressed is of the most beautiful texture, far exceeding in delicacy that
of the beaver, and the hatters consequently use it as a substitute. The
hide is employed to make the thumbs of the best gloves, its elasticity and
texture rendering it preferable to kid.
Parent Duchâtelet collected several particulars of the rats which in his
day frequented the knackers' yards at Montfaucon. Attracted by the
abundance of animal food, they increased so enormously that the
surrounding inhabitants, hearing that the government intended to remove
these establishments, were seized with apprehension lest the vermin, when
deprived of their larder, should spread through the neighbourhood, and,
like a flight of locusts, swallow up everything. The alarmists may even
have feared lest they should meet with a similar fate to that of the
Archbishop of Mayence, who, if old chronicles are to be believed, retired
to a tower in one of the isles of the Rhine to escape being devoured by a
host of these creatures whose appetites were set upon him, and who,
pertinaciously pursuing him to his retreat, succeeded in eating him up at
last. The report of the Commission instituted to inquire into the
circumstances of the Montfaucon case, showed that the apprehensions of
serious damage were by no means unfounded.
"If the carcases of dead horses be thrown during the day in a corner,
the next morning they will be found stripped of their flesh. An old
proprietor of one of the slaughter-houses had a certain space of
ground entirely surrounded by walls, with holes only large enough for
the ingress and egress of rats. Within this inclosure he left the
carcases of two or three horses; and when night came, he went quietly
with his workmen, stopped up the holes, and then entered into the
inclosure, with a stick in one hand and a lighted torch in the other.
The animals covered the ground so thickly that a blow struck anywhere
did execution. By repeating the process after intervals of a few
days, he killed 16,050 rats in the space of one month, and 2,650 in a
single night. They have burrowed under all the walls and buildings in
the neighbourhood; and it is only by such precautions as putting
broken glass bottles round the foundation of a house attached to the
establishment, that the proprietor is able to preserve it. All the
neighbouring fields are excavated by them; and it is not unusual for
the earth to give way and leave these subterraneous works exposed. In
severe frost, when it becomes impossible to cut up the bodies of the
horses, and when the fragments of flesh are almost too hard for the
rats to feed upon, they enter the body and devour the flesh from the
inside, so that, when the thaw comes, the workmen find nothing below
the skin but a skeleton, better cleared of its flesh than if it had
been done by the most skilful operator. Their ferocity, as well as
their voracity, surpasses anything that can be imagined. M. Majendie
placed a dozen rats in a box in order to try some experiments; when he
reached home and opened the box, there were but three remaining; these
had devoured the rest, and had only left their bones and tails."
We have been informed that these rats regularly marched in troops in
search of water in the dusk of the evening, and that they have often been
met in single file stealing beside the walls that lined the road to their
drinking-place. As the pavement in Paris overhangs the gutters, the rats
take advantage of this covered way to creep in safety from street to
street. Their migratory habits are well known, and every neighbourhood has
its tale of their travels. Mr. Jesse relates an anecdote, communicated to
him by a Sussex clergyman, which tends to prove that the old English rat
at least shows a consideration and care for its elders on the march which
is worthy of human philanthropy. "Walking out in some meadows one evening,
he observed a great number of rats migrating from one place to another. He
stood perfectly still, and the whole assemblage passed close to him. His
astonishment, however, was great when he saw amongst the number an old
blind rat, which held a piece of stick at one end in its mouth, while
another had hold of the other end of it, and thus conducted its blind
companion." A kindred circumstance was witnessed in 1757 by Mr. Purdew, a
surgeon's mate on board the _Lancaster_. Lying awake one evening in his
berth, he saw a rat enter, look cautiously round, and retire. He soon
returned leading a second rat, who appeared to be blind, by the ear. A
third rat joined them shortly afterwards, and assisted the original
conductor in picking up fragments of biscuit and placing them before their
infirm parent, as the blind old patriarch was supposed to be. It is only
when tormented by hunger that they appear to lose their fellow-feeling and
to prey upon one another.
The sagacity of the rat in the pursuit of food is so great, that we almost
wonder at the small amount of its cerebral development. Indeed, he is so
cunning, and works occasionally with such human ingenuity, that accounts
which are perfectly correct are sometimes received as mere fables.
Incredible as the story may appear of their removing hens' eggs by one
fellow lying on his back and grasping tightly his ovoid burden with his
fore-paws, whilst his comrades drag him away by the tail, we have no
reason to disbelieve it, knowing as we do that they will carry eggs from
the bottom to the top of a house, lifting them from stair to stair, the
first rat pushing them up on its hind and the second lifting them with its
fore legs. They will extract the cotton from a flask of Florence oil,
dipping in their long tails, and repeating the manoeuvre until they have
consumed every drop. We have found lumps of sugar in deep drawers at a
distance of thirty feet from the place where the petty larceny was
committed: and a friend saw a rat mount a table on which a drum of figs
was placed, and straightway tip it over, scattering its contents on the
floor beneath, where a score of his expectant brethren sat watching for
the windfall. His instinct is no less shown in the selection of suitable
food. He attacks the portion of the elephant's tusks that abounds with
animal oil, in preference to that which contains phosphate of lime; and
the rat-gnawn ivory is selected by the turner as fitted for billiard-balls
and other articles where the qualities of elasticity and transparency are
required. Thus, the tooth-print of this little animal serves as a
distinguishing mark of excellence in a precious material devoted to the
decorative arts. The rat does not confine himself to inert substances:
when he is hard pressed for food, he will attack anything weaker than
himself. Frogs, Goldsmith says, had been introduced into Ireland some
considerable time before the brown rat, and had multiplied abundantly, but
they were pursued in their marshes by this indefatigable hunter, and eaten
clean from off the Emerald Isle. He does not scruple to assault domestic
poultry; though a rat which attempted to capture the chicken of a
game-fowl was killed by the mother with beak and spur in the course of
twelve minutes. The hen seized it by the neck, shook it violently, put out
an eye, and plainly showed that the fowl in a conflict would be the more
powerful of the two, if he was only equally daring. The number of young
ducks which the rats destroyed in the Zoological Gardens rendered it
necessary to surround the pools with a wire rat-fencing, which half-way up
has a pipe of wirework, the circle of which is not complete by several
inches in the under part, and the rat, unable to crawl along the concave
roof which stops his onward path, is compelled to return discomfited.
The rats have been for a long time the pests of these gardens, attracted
by the presence of large quantities of food. The grating under one of the
tigers' dens is eaten through by this nimble-toothed burglar, who makes as
light of copper wire as of leaden pipes. Immediately upon the construction
of the new monkey-house, they took possession, and eat through the floors
in every direction to get at poor Jacko's bread. Vigorous measures were
taken to exclude them; the floors were filled in with concrete, and the
open roof was ceiled; but they quickly penetrated through the plaster of
the latter, as may be seen by the holes to this day. They burrowed in the
old inclosure of the wombat till the ground was quite rotten; and they
still march about the den of the rhinoceros and scamper over his
impregnable hide. It is only by constantly hunting them with terriers that
they can be kept down; and as many as a hundred in a fortnight are often
despatched, their carcases being handed over to the vultures and eagles.
Many of them seek in the daytime a securer retreat. They have frequently
been seen at evening swimming in companies across the canal to forage in
the gardens through the night, and in the morning they returned to their
permanent quarters by the same route.