136 SWALLOW. 
Wexford, on the 5th. of December, 1842; also on the 10th. 
of November, 1844. One was seen at the end of November, 
1847, at Castle Warren, near Cork. 
One would suppose, from their ceaseless flight while with 
us, that the Swallows would never know fatigue; but, never- 
theless, they shew unmistakeable signs of being wearied, by 
alighting on the yards and rigging of ships when in their 
transit; nevertheless, and it is a most striking proof of the 
imperative impulse that guides them in their migration, they 
will not diverge from their pathway over the ocean, to rest 
on land that may be only a few miles on one side; but 
‘on, on,’ is, ike Marmion’s, their motto, and from their bidden 
course nothing can induce them to swerve aside. They also, 
at such times, are said to refresh themselves by dropping on 
the sea, from which they rise with fresh invigoration. Audubon 
and other writers state this fact. 
It was formerly imagined that Swallows passed the winter 
in a torpid state, submerging themselves in lakes for this 
purpose. The following is the scientific ‘dictum’ of Dr. 
Johnson:—‘Swallows certainly do sleep all the winter. A 
number of them conglobulate together, by flying round and 
round, and then all in a_ heap throwing themselves under 
water, and he in the bed of a river;’ a very cold bed cer- 
tainly. Alexander Mal Berger also says, in a calendar kept 
at Upsal in 1755; ‘August 4th.—Birds of passage, after havi ying 
celebrated their nuptials, now prepare for departing; and 
then ‘September 17th.—Swallows go under water.’ The 
‘Kendal Mercury,’ in 1837, detailed the circumstance of a 
person having observed several Swallows emerging from 
Grasmere Lake, in the spring of that year, in the form of 
‘bell-shaped bubbles,’ from each of which a Swallow burst 
forth; and the editor added, ‘we give the fact, well authenti- 
cated by the parties from whom we received it, in the hope 
that it may prove an acceptable addition to the data on 
which naturalists frame their hypotheses.’ 
That the great body of them leave our wintry shores at 
the annual time of their migration for the sunny south, is 
unquestionable; but, nevertheless, it appears equally certain 
that some individuals, more or fewer in number, hybernate 
with us. Mr. J. B. Ellman records in the ‘Zoologist,’ page 
2303, some instances of their having been dug out of hollows 
in banks in the winter; and Mr. Edward Brown Fitton, at 
page 2590, ‘tells the tale as it was told to him’ of ‘immense 
