Our British Snails

by J. W. Horsley

Most shells grow to the right, and a freak which does the contrary is so rare that of the millions of the common H. virgata that I have seen and handled, only one delighted me with its left-handedness. If it is early summer (nearly all snails hide, burrow, and sleep during the winter), look about on the grass for some half-chalky, half-stony shields, which are the winter front doors of H. pomatia, now discarded; while sharper eyes might even descry the flinty little darts with which they have been love-making. The illustration on [p. 15] shows three of these darts, much magnified. Only the most highly developed Helices possess these courting weapons, not unlike bayonets in form, sometimes rounded and smooth, and sometimes with two or even four lateral blades, so that the section of the dart of H. pomatia is in the form of a Greek cross. Not many British shells have these darts, but in one case their study is useful, since H. nemoralis and H. hortensis, though so closely allied that early conchologists considered them to be of the same species, have darts remarkably distinct one from the other, so that they become a court of final appeal if from outward appearance it is difficult to distinguish, say, a white-mouthed nemoralis from a dark-mouthed hortensis.

Love-darts of H. pomatia, much magnified.

Whenever you see a stone, a brick, a branch of dead wood, or even an old boot or a piece of newspaper in the hedge or on the grass, turn it over, for many of the smaller shells are thus found, and “leave no stone unturned” is eminently a motto for the conchologist. Some of the shells will be tiny, and must be studied under a magnifying glass—which all naturalists should always have in their pockets—or even under a microscope at home, in order to discover, not only their beauty of marking or sculpture, but even to what species they belong.

When you see a man sweeping herbage with a net, or beating hedges and shrubs over an inverted umbrella, he is probably an entomologist in search of caterpillars or beetles; but the same methods will often reward the snail-hunter.

Especially in the hedges will you find the two allied species Helix (Cepea) nemoralis and hortensis, to which the attention of beginners should first be directed, inasmuch as they are so common, so beautiful, and so varying both in colour and the number of the chocolate bands they usually bear. See the illustration of some of these at rest on hawthorn, [p. 17]. Canary-yellow, flesh-colour, chocolate, and almost white, are the prevailing ground-colours. Five is the normal number of bands on the largest or body-whorl, although sometimes all run into one, and often one, some, or all are wanting. Where only one band is found—throughout the Helicidæ—it is usually that on the periphery or middle of the whorl, and a shell in which this band is wanting, while others are found, is a rarity. People are usually astonished, on seeing a good series of the colour and variations of these two shells, how they vie with those of warmer regions.

H. nemoralis at rest on hawthorn.

Next search trunks of trees, and especially the smooth boles of the beeches. The rough bark of the elm or oak is not congenial to slugs or snails. Where trees are moss-covered at their foot, or walls at their top, many of the smaller shells may be expected; while handfuls of dead leaves may be shaken over something white, or taken home in a large bag to be treated there. Hurdles leaning against a hedge are often found to bear a good crop of snails. Damp places must be sought in dry weather; but a rainy day, that troubles some kinds of naturalists, sends the conchologist forth rejoicing, especially if a warm evening follows a wet day. A night search with a lantern will often be profitable. Where they will be undisturbed, traps may be set, such as flat pieces of wood (the older the better), or cardboard, lying on the grass; while most of those species that belong to the group which seems to prefer the sun, e.g. H. itala, virgata, etc., are fond of a newspaper for food rather than for shelter.

During the hibernating season, which extends from November to April, we turn rather to ditches than to hedges, and, armed with a perforated scoop at the end of a long stick, we dredge among the water-weeds, or sift, like gold-washers, the sand or mud in ditches, ponds, and backwaters of rivers. Here we are introduced to the great bivalve family which is unknown on land, and our trophies range from the freshwater mussels, as large as our hand, to others hardly larger than a pin’s head. These must be sought at the bottom; but on the weeds, or on the bottom, will be found not a few species of gasteropods or univalves, some of which we may have noticed in a freshwater aquarium. These, of course, are closely connected with the land shells, which the bivalves are not. They can be brought home alive in a tin box with a little moss, whereas for the land shells a calico bag with a little foliage therein is best. In both cases some small glass tubes with corks should be brought in a tin box in order to keep safely and separately the tinier kinds. You can often discover what small shells inhabit a particular ditch or pond by noticing the cases of caddis-worms, some of which are formed almost entirely of shells instead of vegetable fragments.