NOTES FROM A CHESHIRE GARDEN - c. 1921

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stevehind
Posts: 2908
Joined: Mon Aug 04, 2008 11:44 am
Location: Higher Poynton, Cheshire

NOTES FROM A CHESHIRE GARDEN - c. 1921

Post by stevehind »

Here's another article written 100 years ago about garden mothing and with particular relevance to his time spent in the vicarage at Alvanley.

NOTES FROM A CHESHIRE GARDEN And Other Backyard Reminiscences.

By The Rev. F. M. B. Ca r r, M.A.

Paper read before the Lancashire & Cheshire Entomological Society meeting 10th April,1922 and published in the LCES 45-46th Annual Report & Proceedings. Sessions 1921-1922:45-51.

One of the chief charms of our hobby to me, and I think to most other collectors of Natural History objects, is that it takes one out to woodland and marsh and hillside and heath, and that, as one looks at one’s captures in after years, the fascinating spots where they were taken are conjured up anew and the joys of past holidays are vividly recalled.

As I look, for instance, at my series of Dark Crimson Underwing and Light Crimson Underwing I am taken back to the early days of my first visit to the New Forest—a veritable wonderland both to the lover of fine country and the tyro in “ bugs.” How well one remembers those warm summer nights in late July when the ”Crimsons” alighted on our sugar patches to the accompaniment of the nightjar’s rattle and the hooting of the owls! What lovely moths these are as they rest with the forewings raised and the crimson under-wings showing, ready to be off at a moment. I found the best plan to bottle them straight off the sugar, or they would soon batter themselves to pieces. Glorious days those were in a glorious place. One can well understand the home-sickness of the born and bred New Forester, if ever there comes a time when he must leave his native heaths and woods and the scent of the peat and the wood fires, for the drawing power of the great woodland is extraordinary even to the ‘‘foreigner.”

Or again, as I look at my collection and pitch on Clouded Yellow, I remember the August days of 30 years ago, when the species swarmed on the Sussex downs. What exhilarating races took place between the ‘‘Clouded Yellow” and the schoolboy with the net. The sea-breezes took a hand in the fun too. These ”Clouded Yellows ” are almost as brilliant in colour to-day as when they were taken on the chalk downs near Seaford. I compared some newly captured ones with them a few years back, and could see very little, if any, difference. Would that we could say the same of our Emeralds !

Speaking of green things that series of Cistus Forester reminds me of a glorious day spent on the rock-rose covered slopes of Dovedale, with the river rippling over the rocks in the narrow-valley below, and Cistus Forester at his best all round me.

But alongside the specimens that conjure up the sights and smells and sounds of heath and hillside and woodland and fen are others that, while they have not the same glamour about them, have a peculiar interest of their own - they were taken in the garden. In fact, if it were not for the garden there would be some species missing from our collections altogether—to mention two that come to mind straight away, Golden Plusia and Double Lobed.

The first garden with which as a bug-hunter I was at all familiar was, and still is, situated in South London in a neighbour¬hood once dear to Stainton, and in his days full of good things. It was an ordinary suburban villa garden with palings round it, and other people’s gardens and houses round them. The neighbourhood is now a forest of houses and shops. Plants still grow in the garden and birds still sing in it in spite of the army of cats that garrisons it. Where some of the birds build is a mystery. The tomtits seem to favour the street lamp-posts. Until quite recently—it may be still there—there was an owl in the neighbourhood. Many interesting species in my collection came from this small suburban garden. To mention a few, the larvae of Golden Plusia were often common on the Delphinium, and at one time I used to take Double Lobed in considerable numbers flying with many other species of Noctuae round a lime tree, attracted I believe by the honeydew. Other good species for such a locality included Poplar Kitten, Olive, White-spotted Pinion, Broad-barred White and Small Yellow Wave.

Another garden with which I was familiar in those days was a large one at Dartford in Kent. Here I took the only larva I have ever met with of Death's-head Hawk-moth. From a lilac bush I obtained several larvae of Privet Hawk-moth. From young Lombardy poplars I obtained one year in this garden more larvae of Swallow Prominent than I have ever seen before or since. But one of my most noteworthy recollections of this Dartford garden was the swarm of Noctuae that for some nights infested a cypress hedge. What was the cause of the attraction I never discovered, and have never succeeded in finding anything on cypress since.

Another remarkable sight in a diminutive backyard, this time at West Hampstead, was provided by Brindled Beauty. The tiny garden seemed to be alive with them, freshly emerged and emerging, resting on the palings and in fact on almost anything.

The next garden with which I had anything to do was of the romantic order. It was situated in the Close at Salisbury with a lovely old lawn, beds ablaze with flowers and the River Avon flowing past it. The high old stone walls round it yielded a fine- series of Large Ranunculus, whilst other interesting species taken in it were Mullein and Gold Spot, but on the whole it was rather disappointing for a fine locality like Salisbury.

The first garden that I could call my own was a very small villa-garden at Woodford in N.E. London, not far from Epping Forest. Here entomology for the time being took a backseat, and sweet-peas and roses claimed my attention, the latter thriving beyond my wildest hopes in the heavy clay. Three noteworthy species of Lepidoptera turned up, however, two of them in one day. I thought I should wake up and find it was a dream. One was Red-belted Clearwing sunning itself on a flower-head of Coreopsis—this is the only example of the species I have taken. The other species was a male of Silver-washed Fritillary—where he came from, I cannot imagine, unless he was an escape from some other collector’s breeding-cage, but Mr. Hugh Main, my nearest entomological neighbour, disowned him. The other interesting species for a London suburb was Mallow, of which I took 3 males and I female at light on the glass of the front door. I did not know of any mallow in the neighbourhood but was growing some of the cultivated varieties in the garden.

Then came the dingiest backyard imaginable—it was at Leyton on the outskirts of East London. The plants that were put in the soil were fine specimens of melanism. The only species I can remember which paid us a visit were White Satin, which still white, and Frosted Orange. Whether they came from Hackney Marshes about a mile distant or travelled by the tram which passed our front door, or the train which passed our side-entrance, I know not.

But better things were in store for us from the point of view of lepidopterous gardens, when in 1917 we came to Alvanley. My garden at Alvanley stands high in relation to the country round about. Helsby and Frodsham are about sea-level. To get to Alvanley is a climb of 300 feet. We stand on the ridge which connects the rock at Helsby, which many of you will have noticed from the railway (if no nearer) with the Overton Hills above Frodsham. It takes the best part of an hour to walk into Delamere Forest. My garden, which is a fair-sized one, is in the midst of fields, some of them permanent pasture and others under corn and other crops. They are mostly bounded by thorn hedges with oaks standing in them at intervals. An occasional ash takes the place of oak. The garden, being too large for an ordinary man to keep pace with, is decidedly rough. Its possibilities, in addition to the luxuriance of the weeds, are two large poplar trees, one wych-elm (on its last legs), a beech hedge and a privet hedge. There are a number of fruit trees, useful for providing rotten fruit and receiving it back on their trunks, and a number of holly bushes useful for puncturing one’s fingers when clearing up rubbish. The flowers are not quite choked out of existence by the weeds, and I really must try to save some of them, as they prove quite attractive to the moths.

I arrived on the 1st February,1917, and it took me nearly three weeks to find a moth. “When found, make a note of.” I did. Here’s the note: 1917-Feb. 20. Early Moth, male, in the bedroom.

Since that the garden has been more or less worked up to the present—just over five years, that is. There is still plenty of scope for fresh records, as I have done very little in July and August yet, my hardest and most regular work having been the autumn sugaring or rather ‘‘rotten-fruiting,” which has been a great success nearly every year. Another time when I have paid particular attention to the garden has been during the Plusia season. It is the flower borders then that have to be watched, and I can specially recommend the following as particularly attractive:—Perennial Cornflowers, Sweet Williams and Sweet Rocket. I am glad to see that my Sweet Rocket has seeded down freely. But the Sweet Williams have become beautifully less in five years and I shall have to import a large consignment of fresh plants. Buddleia is another fine attraction, but mine has only flowered (and then rather feebly) on one occasion. I fancy I must have treated it wrong, having cut it back rather severely one year. The ivy on the house flowers freely, but 1 have never had any success at ivy-bloom at all. Altogether my explorations have resulted in 142 species of Macro-Lepidoptera and 5 Pyrales.

Of the eleven species of butterflies noted I have found Orange-tip breeding in the garden, the larvae trying to make me believe that they were seedpods of Sweet Rocket. The Vanessidae are cupboard lovers—they come when the fruit falls on the ground or is smeared on the trunks for the benefit and the downfall of their night-flying relatives. Red Admiral leads the way in point of numbers, and especially was this so during last season. It is usually quite common and sometimes very abundant and always very typical. Small Tortoiseshell is a good second. Peacock usually puts in an appearance, being moderately common in some seasons. Painted Lady is very unusual, in fact it made its first appearance in 1921.

The other butterflies on my list do not call for comment. Amongst the moths the poplar trees sometimes oblige with Poplar Hawk-moth. I was delighted to see my old friend Humming-bird Hawk-moth at the flowers this year. Coxcomb Prominent I may mention as a species hardly associated in one’s mind with gardens. December Moth had the impudence to fly into my face one night just outside the front door and was paid out by being caught. I rather fancy I have also taken the larva of this species on the trunk of the poplar tree but cannot find my record. Oak Eggar both in the imago and larval state is of frequent occurrence, and larvae of Drinker occa¬sional; Broad-bordered Yellow Underwing has been taken at my sugar substitute, and several Autumnal Rustic turned up at it last year; Garden Dart is, in my experience, a great frequenter of gardens. It appears scarce in my present garden; Dark Sword-grass is usually common at sugar in the autumn, and Pearly Underwing scarce, except in the autumn of 1920, when it was quite common, and a very interestingly variable species it is.

The larvae of Dot Moth sometimes appear but are never in the numbers one associates with the gardens of the London suburbs. Rosy Minor appeared in small numbers one year at sugar. The larvae of Figure of Eight, though not abundant, are sometimes to be found on the thorn hedges and the pear trees. A very nice fresh Dark Brocade, a species I am badly in need of, was taken on one of the few occasions on which I have tried summer sugaring in the garden. I am saving up a store of rotten fruit to try and tempt him again this year. Small Clouded Brindle often turns up, and for some time I passed them over as Dusky Brocade, which is probably about the commonest summer Noctua in the garden. One of my best species is Deep-brown Dart, which comes punctually each year at the beginning of September. Last season was the best for this species, some 50 specimens being noticed. Grey Chi is occasionally to be seen on the walls of the house during August. I find this another remarkably punctual species, the month of August from beginning to end generally seeing the first and the last of it with us. I fancy it is a good deal later than this in some districts.

Merveille du Jour is sometimes not uncommon at my sugar patches, but in some seasons very scarce. In 1921 it did not appear at all. The only example I saw last year came to Mr. Smith’s famous lamp on the first occasion of its erection in my garden. Brindled Green is a very common species, on the trunks in the daytime and the sugar patches at night. Lunar Underwing usually visits my sugar in some numbers and is very variable. Flounced Chestnut is decidedly scarce, but a few specimens put in an appearance at sugar one autumn. Brown-spot Pinion is the earliest and the commonest member of the family with us, being usually much more in evidence than Beaded Chestnut, which I have usually regarded as the commonest of the genus. A very welcome visitor is Dusky-lemon Sallow. I have taken three of this species in my garden at sugar. Unless it has some other food-plant besides wych elm I can only suppose that the species bred in the solitary wych elm in the garden. Certainly there are wych elms on each side of us, but in each case I should say they were at least a mile away. I hope to make a further acquaintance with Dusky-lemon Sallow. I have had a Sword-grass year, a Pearly Underwing year, and a Deep-brown Dart year. I am hoping for a Dusky-lemon Sallow year next.

Red Sword-grass is never common with us, the most taken in one autumn being four, but its near relative Sword-grass is generally in fair numbers, being quite common sometimes. These are two wonderful species for keeping in good condition. It is very rarely that I have found them off-colour, and even after hibernation they turn out very well. I suppose that the peculiar method of folding the wings has something to do with this, a very small surface being exposed when at rest. The Plusias are well represented in the garden, Silver Y of course! He always seems to be there. First to come and last to go. Next appears Beautiful Golden Y, then a little later Plain Golden Y, Gold Spot and Burnished Brass. These are all common, with the reservation that Gold Spot is very uncertain. One year I got tired of netting it. Last season I never saw one till the autumn, when a single example of the second brood turned up. I do not know how it is in some localities, but with us the second brood of Gold Spot seems to be the exception rather than the rule. The first brood may be very much in evidence, and yet one may find no representatives of a second brood at all. I should be very interested to hear members’ opinions on this? Is Gold Spot generally or only exceptionally double- brooded? The last member of the Plusia family that visits us is Golden Plusia, and up to the present this has been found very sparingly in the larval state. I have a quantity of Aconitum and Delphinium, but my garden is something of an oasis in the desert in this respect, as my near neighbours are not great flower-gardeners.

Along with the Plusias come two near relatives, great flower-lovers like the Plusias, Dark Spectacle and Spectacle. The former is fairly common, the latter scarce. At the same time Shark frequents the flowers. Peach Blossom probably breeds in the garden and occasionally appears in the imago state. The Geometers are poorly represented. The species are neither great in quantity nor quality. Mention of a few will suffice: Tissue is occasionally found on flowers etc.; Foxglove Pug is taken on the palings and windows; Green Pug occurs sparingly; Mottled Beauty runs into very dark forms and is not uncommon. V-Moth, which is another distinctly garden species, is not common. Sandy Carpet is an occasional visitor.

To conclude a rather lengthy list of the Lepidoptera that have visited my various gardens I will just mention the pyrales; they are few in number and all common species. Large Tabby Aglossa pinguinalis, Small Magpie Anania hortulata, Garden Pebble Evergestis forficalis, Mother of Pearl Patania ruralis and Udea prunalis.
PaulHopkins
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Location: Bromborough, Wirral. MapMate Recorder

Re: NOTES FROM A CHESHIRE GARDEN - c. 1921

Post by PaulHopkins »

Sword-grass is generally in fair numbers, being quite common sometimes
Not these days they're not :(.

These extracts are a fascinating respite from the moth-free December doldrums!

Cheers
Paul
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