3. This section contains creatures for which few of us entertain any affection; at the same time, it may perhaps be true that some of the greatest of farm pests, in the shapes of rats and mice, have greatly increased since the destruction of the polecat, stoat, and other of our smaller carnivorous quadrupeds.
As regards mice in general, one source of alarm connected with their former occupancy of the hedge-row has nearly vanished from among us. We allude to the supposed injury they were thought to inflict on any creature over which they might creep.
At one time, if a cow or sheep offered any symptom of paralysis or injury, more particularly of the hind-quarters, the creature was said to be “mouse-crope,” for which were several popular remedies, which were used by way of direct applications, such as a liberal application of rods of wytch-hazel, drawing twigs of mountain-ash or rowan-tree over the affected parts; but the more general plan of action was to operate upon the offending creature upon the same principle as pertains to the present day in the case of a bite by a dog—namely, that the bitten subject is not safe from the direst calamities so long as the author of the mischief is alive; and acting upon this, there are few persons in rural districts who would not demand the death of a dog by whom they may have been bitten, and this not as a measure of precaution, to prevent the like occurrence happening again, but as the first thing to be done to ensure a safe cure. So with a “mouse-crope” subject: action was at once taken against the mouse, but this through the agency of the “shrew-ash,” which potent remedy is thus described by Gilbert White, in his charming “Natural History of Selborne:”—
Now, a shrew-ash is an ash whose twigs or branches, when gently applied to the limbs of cattle, will immediately relieve the pains which a beast suffers from the running of a shrew-mouse over the part affected; for it is supposed that a shrew-mouse is of so baneful and deleterious a nature, that wherever it creeps over a beast, be it horse, cow, or sheep, the suffering animal is afflicted with cruel anguish, and threatened with the loss of the use of the limb. Against this accident, to which they were continually liable, our provident forefathers always kept a shrew-ash at hand, which, when properly medicated, would maintain its virtue for ever. A shrew-ash was made thus:—Into the body of the tree a deep hole was bored with an augur, and a poor devoted shrew-mouse was thrust in alive, and plugged in, no doubt, with several quaint incantations, long since forgotten.
That the shrew-mouse was generally held in the greatest dread, there is no doubt; but, we find in Dorsetshire, where this notion still prevails, that the idea of mischief is not confined to the shrew, but is believed of any mouse. We had a steer in one of our feeding-pits, which, as he did not gain flesh, was said to be “moss-crop,” the western vernacular for mouse-crope. Still, field mice, without regard to species, are supposed to be the most baneful in this way; at the same time, we may trace an evidence of the former generally prevailing belief in the injurious tendencies of even our common mouse, in the fact that when you have so far convinced a lady friend, who may have a “horror of a mouse,” of their harmless nature, you are sure to be met with the unanswerable remark, which gains point from the manner of its utterance, “But suppose a mouse should creep over me?” We may now entirely discard every notion of the evils of mouse-crope cattle as an argument against the hedge-row as a harbour for rats and mice; still, these are vermin in the true sense of the word, and which hedge-rows, unless kept trim and clean at bottom, are sure to encourage.
4. Snakes in hedge-rows are very common, and especially on banks facing the south; of these, the common ringed snake and the slow-worm are often met with. They excite great terror in most people; but still they may be said not merely to be quite harmless, but absolutely useful, as they live upon insects and small fry in general, and so, in reality, they ought not to be classed as vermin, but take their place amongst their most decided enemies.
5. The land mollusks, to which belong the snail and the slug, are sheltered in hedges by thousands; and highly destructive they are, and more especially in small overshadowed enclosures. The quantity of vegetation which these consume is enormous, and we are sorry to think that they are on the increase—a fact which we deem to be due to the indiscriminate slaughter of small birds, more especially the blackbird, thrush, and lark, which are their most determined enemies. As farmers, we might well afford them a dessert of small fruit for the good they do in destroying slugs and snails.
6. Hedge-row shrubs are liable to be injured by many insects, more especially the caterpillars of different kinds of moths and butterflies, which sometimes eat away all their leaves, and so greatly retard the growth of the hedge. Upon this subject we quote from “Our Woodlands, Heaths, and Hedges,” for the purpose of introducing to our readers a small book by W. S. Coleman, which should be in the hands of all country readers:—
The foliage of the hawthorn, remarkable for its elegance, is the chosen food of a great number of interesting insects, principally the caterpillars of various lepidoptera.
Several species of these are of a gregarious nature, living together in extensive colonies under a thick net-work of silk, which serves them for a common protection while feeding on the foliage enclosed with themselves in a silken tent.
Among these social net-weavers are the caterpillars of a fine insect, the black-veined white butterfly (Pieris cratægi), a rarity in some districts, but in certain localities, and at certain periods, abounding to such an extent as entirely to strip the hawthorn hedges of their foliage. Similar depredations are committed by the gaily-coloured progeny of the common lackey moth, and of the gold-tailed and brown-tailed moths; but the most formidable devastators, though the tiniest individually, are the little ermine moths (Yponomenta), small silvery-grey creatures, minutely spotted with black. The curious twig-like caterpillars of the brimstone moth (a pretty canary-coloured creature, with brown markings), and of several other geometers, are common upon hawthorn.
Last summer (1864), the hawthorn trees and hedges about the parks and squares of London were entirely defoliated by caterpillars, which progressed from tree to tree in squads of numberless individuals, only seeking a new site of action when the former one had been despoiled of every vestige of leaf and bud.