The winter of 1789-90 was as mild as that of 1788-89 had been severe. The record runs thus:—'November to 17th, heavy rains with violent gales of wind. To December 18, mild dry weather with a few showers. To the end of the year rain and wind. To January 16, 1790, mild foggy weather, with occasional rains. To January 21' (five days only) 'frost. To January 28, dark, with driving rains. To February 14, mild dry weather. To February 22' (eight days) 'hard frost.' To April 5 bright cold weather with a few showers.
In November, 1790, mild autumnal weather prevailed till the 26th, after which there were five days of hard frost. Thence to the end of the year, rain and snow, with a few days of frost. The whole of January, 1791, was mild with heavy rains; February windy, with much rain and snow. Then to the end of April dry, but 'rather cold and frosty.'
November, 1791, was very wet and stormy, December frosty. There was some hard frost in January, 1792, but the weather mostly wet and mild. In February also there was some hard frost and a little snow. March was wet and cold.
The record ends with the year 1792, the last three months of which are thus described: 'October showery and mild. November dry and fine. December mild.'
Certainly the account of the 23 years between 1768 and 1792 does not suggest that there is any material difference between the winter weather now common and the average winter weather a century ago. Still it may be necessary to show, that when men spoke of mild weather in old times, they meant what we should understand by the same expression. A reference to rain or showery weather shows sufficiently that a temperature above the freezing point existed while such weather prevailed. But it might be that what White speaks of as mild weather, is such as we should consider severe. In order to show that this is not the case, it will suffice to examine his statement respecting the actual temperature in particular winters, considering them always with due reference to what he says as to their exceptional character.
Take for instance his account of the frost in January, 1768. He says that, for the short time it lasted, this frost 'was the most severe that we had then known for many years, and was remarkably injurious to evergreens.' 'The coincidents attending this short but intense frost,' he proceeds, after describing his vegetable losses, 'were, that the horses fell sick with an epidemic distemper, which injured the winds of many and killed some; that colds and coughs were general among the human species; that it froze under people's beds for several nights; that meat was so hard frozen that it could not be spitted, and could not be secured but in cellars, &c.' On the 3rd of January a thermometer within doors, in a close parlour, where there was no fire, fell in the night to 20; on the 4th to 18; and on the 7th to 17½ degrees, 'a degree of cold which the owner never since saw in the same situation.' The evidence from the thermometer is unsatisfactory, because we do not know how the parlour was situated. But there is reason for supposing that in the bitterest winters known during the last thirty or forty years, a greater degree of cold than that of January, 1768, has been experienced in England.
The frost of January, 1776, was also regarded as remarkable, and an account of it will therefore enable us to judge what was the ordinary winter weather of the last century.
In the first place, White notices that 'the first week of January, 1776, was very wet, and drowned with vast rains from every quarter; from whence may be inferred, as there is great reason to believe is the case, that intense frosts seldom take place till the earth is perfectly glutted and chilled with water; and hence dry autumns are seldom followed by rigorous winters.' On the 14th, after a week of frost, sleet, and snow, which after the 12th 'overwhelmed all the works of men, drifting over the tops of gates, and filling the hollow lanes,' White had occasion to be much abroad. He thought he had never before or since encountered such rugged Siberian weather. 'Many of the narrow roads were now filled above the tops of the hedges, through which the snow was driven into most romantic and grotesque shapes, so striking to the imagination as not to be seen without wonder and pleasure. The poultry dared not to stir out of their roosting places: for cocks and hens are so dazzled and confounded by the glare of snow, that they would soon perish without assistance. The hares also lay sullenly in their seats, and would not move till compelled by hunger: being conscious, poor animals, that the drifts and heaps treacherously betray their footsteps and prove fatal to many of them.' From the 14th the snow continued to increase, and began to stop the road-wagons and coaches, which could no longer keep their regular stages; and especially on the Western roads. 'The company at Bath that wanted to attend the Queen's birthday were strangely incommoded; many carriages of persons who got on their way to town from Bath, as far as Marlborough, after strange embarrassments, here met with a ne plus ultra. The ladies fretted, and offered large rewards to labourers, if they would shovel them a road to London; but the relentless heaps of snow were too bulky to be removed; and so the 18th passed over, leaving the company in very uncomfortable circumstances, at the Castle and other inns.'
Yet all this time and till the 21st the cold was not so intense as it was in December 1878. On the 21st the thermometer showed 20 degrees, and had it not been for the deep snows, the winter would not have been very severely felt. On the 22nd, the author had occasion to go to London 'through a sort of Laplandian scene, very wild and grotesque indeed.' But London exhibited an even stranger appearance than the country. 'Being bedded deep in snow, the pavement of the streets could not be touched by the wheels or the horses' feet, so that the carriages ran almost without the least noise.' 'Such an exemption from din and clatter,' says White, 'was strange but not pleasant; it seemed to convey an uncomfortable idea of desolation:
Ipsa silentia terrent.