The Natural History of Selborne [48]
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.... (* Some old sportsmen say that the main part of these flocks used to withdraw as soon as the heavy Christmas frosts were over.)
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 has rendered it so happily in our language, that without farther excuse I shall add his translation also.
Qualis spelunca subito commota Columba, Cui domus, et dulces latebroso in pumice nidi, Fertur in arva volans, plausumque exterrita pennis Dat tecto ingentem--mox aere lapse quieto, Radit iter liquidum, celeres neque commovet alas.
As when a dove her rocky hold forsakes, Rous'd, in her 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, etc.
LETTERS to DAINES BARRINGTON
Letter I To The Honourable Daines Barrington
Selborne, June 30, 1769.
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 in which they appear.
1. Wry-neck, Raii nomina: Jynx, sive torquilla: Usually appears about: 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 plaintive note.
10. White-throat, Ficedulae affinis: Middle of April: mean note; sings on till September.
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 of April: a small
Their rising all at once was like the sound Of thunder heard remote.... (* Some old sportsmen say that the main part of these flocks used to withdraw as soon as the heavy Christmas frosts were over.)
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 has rendered it so happily in our language, that without farther excuse I shall add his translation also.
Qualis spelunca subito commota Columba, Cui domus, et dulces latebroso in pumice nidi, Fertur in arva volans, plausumque exterrita pennis Dat tecto ingentem--mox aere lapse quieto, Radit iter liquidum, celeres neque commovet alas.
As when a dove her rocky hold forsakes, Rous'd, in her 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, etc.
LETTERS to DAINES BARRINGTON
Letter I To The Honourable Daines Barrington
Selborne, June 30, 1769.
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 in which they appear.
1. Wry-neck, Raii nomina: Jynx, sive torquilla: Usually appears about: 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 plaintive note.
10. White-throat, Ficedulae affinis: Middle of April: mean note; sings on till September.
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 of April: a small