The Natural History of Selborne

The distress for water in many places is great.  A notion has always obtained, that in England hot summers are productive of fine crops of wheat: yet in the years 1780, and 1781, tho’ the heat was intense, the wheat was much mildewed, & the crop light.  Quaere, Does not severe heat, while the straw is milky, occasion it’s juices to exsude, which being extravasted, occasion spots, discolour the stems & blades, & injure the health of the plants?  The heat of the two last summers has scalded & scorched the stems of the wall-fruit trees, & has fetched-off the bark.

On this ill-fated day Lord Cornwallis, & all his army surrendered themselves prisoners of war to the united forces of France & America at York-town in Virginia.

Greatham-mill can work but 3 hours in the day.

The mill at Hawlkey cannot work one-tenth of the time for want of water.

The greens of turnips wither, & look rusty.  The distress in these parts for want of water is very uncommon.  The well at the Grange-farm is dry; & so are many in the villages round: & even the well at Old-place in the parish of E. Tisted, tho’ 270 feet, or 45 fathoms deep, will not afford water for a brewing.  All the while the little pond on Selborne down still has some water, th’ it is very low; & the little pond just over the hedge in Newton great farm abates but little.  The ponds in the vales are now dry a third time,   Most of the wells in Selborne-street are empty; & mine has only three feet of water.  The people at Medsted, Bentworth, & those upland parts are in great want.  Well-head sends-out a considerable stream still, not apparently abated since we measured it last.  The last wet month was Decmr 1779, during which fell 6 inch. 28 hund. of rain: since which the quantity of water has been very little.

On frequented roads the dust is very troublesome.

Farmer Parsons fetches a waggon-load of water from Dorton for brewing!  Wells fail.

A brood of swallows over Oakhanger-pond!

My well rises.  My hedges are beautifully tinged.  Wood-larks sing sweetly thro’ this soft weather.

The grass was covered with cob-webs, which being loaded with dew, looked like frost.  A grey hen was lately killed on that part of Hind-head which is called the Devil’s punch-bowl.  This solitary bird has haunted those parts for some time.