The Rat; Its History & Destructive Character. James Rodwell
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into a cellar that may be perfectly infested, the result is the same; unless, perchance, a stray one may scud across for a more safe retreat. Hence it is that men seldom think of rats, because they rarely see them; but if rats could by any means be made to live on the surface of the earth instead of in holes and corners, and feed and run about the streets and fields in the open day, like dogs and sheep, the whole nation would be horror-stricken; and ultimately there would not be a man, woman, or child but would have a dog, stick, or gun to effect their destruction, wherever they met with them. Are we to suppose then, because they carry on their ravages in the dark, that they are less destructive? Certainly not. My object then, in making this appeal to my fellow-countrymen, and supplying them with the following History of the Rat (as deduced from the most experienced individuals and naturalists, and interspersed with a host of published and unpublished facts), is for the purpose of rousing them up to one universal warfare against these enemies of mankind, which by their voracious habits contribute to the impoverishing of our farmers and the privation of our fellow-creatures.
In doing this, however, let me be distinctly understood to have in view those rats only that are living and feeding in barns, granaries, ricks, mills, cornfields, warehouses, &c.; in a word, wherever human sustenance is deposited, either on sea or land. Such are their omnivorous, gregarious, and migratory habits, that the whole of Europe, and every temperate region of the known world, are equally infested by them; for when their food runs short, they migrate by hundreds in a drove to some neighbouring barn, granary, rick, or other place, where food is to be found. There will they resort, and scarce anything is proof against them.
Here I may observe that neither bricks, lead, zinc, nor the corners or edges of stone are proof against their teeth and claws. If you examine the holes that they have drilled in your walls, &c., you will find, in most cases, that portions of the bricks or stone on every side are gone,—the space the mortar occupied not being sufficient to admit their bodies. Mr. Waterton tells us, that when the partitionings of his premises were removed, for the purpose of annihilating the rats, he found that where the corners of bricks protruded, so as to obstruct them in their runs, they had actually gnawed them off, and thus obtained a free passage. I have also met with several instances wherein they have not only eaten through zinc drain-pipes, but leaden beer and water pipes. Neither are even gas-pipes free from their depredations. The following instance was lately recorded in the “Manchester Guardian”:—
“A circumstance has been communicated to us this week by Messrs. J. P. and E. Westhead and Co. of this town (Manchester), which shows the serious risks of explosion, as well as great annoyance from the smell of escaping gas, may arise out of the ravages of rats. In the new warehouses of that firm in Piccadilly, some of the gas-pipes are placed, as usual, between the floors and ceilings beneath, and an unpleasant smell of gas having been perceived, an examination was instituted into the condition of the pipes, when it was found that some of them had been gnawed through by rats, and in two of them there were holes large enough to permit an escape of gas quite sufficient to cause a most serious and destructive explosion. In one case the hole in the side of the pipe was equal in size to the width of the pipe itself.”
The writer then states that these facts should be generally known, as it may be necessary, in some cases, either to have pipes of some harder material than lead, or to case them in tin or sheet iron. But to me it seems far more desirable to get rid of the rats themselves; since there are a host of other things besides gas-pipes that suffer from their ravages. “Yes,” it will be said; “but how is this to be done effectually?” To this, I reply, read my book, and then you will ascertain the means.
I can perfectly understand the surprise, nay, I may say, astonishment, created in the minds of some at the weight I attach to rats; but this in most cases arises from want of a due consideration of the subject. It is certain that rats are known to almost every one; but the local injuries they commit are seen only by minute observers. Hence it is, that if a few instances of their swarming numbers and midnight ravages be collected together, and laid open to the understanding, we shall then see one of the greatest causes of agricultural distress.
The old adage says, “that a constant dropping wears a hole in a stone.” So is it with rats; for with their astonishing fecundity and omnivorous habits, they are eating like a cancer into the very foundation of British prosperity. Still they are allowed to live, and to revel without any effectual means being resorted to for checking their devastations. But let our farm vermin be destroyed, our hedges levelled, and our lands fully cultivated; and I believe there is little doubt but that our home-grown produce would be more than amply sufficient to supply all our domestic wants. Then, and not till then, do I believe that Great Britain and Ireland will feel themselves to be—what in truth they ought to be—a great and independent people.
PART I.
CHAPTER I.
THE DIFFERENT KINDS OF RATS, AND THEIR NATURAL HISTORY.
I SHALL commence by explaining the natural characteristics of the different kinds of rats; as the WATER VOLE (or Water Rat); the BLACK RAT; the ALBINO (or White Rat); and the BROWN RAT.
The Water Vole.*
This species of rat bears little resemblance to those just enumerated, either in habits or manners. It is as innocent and seclusive as the others are daring and rapacious. It eats neither fish, flesh, nor fowl, but lives entirely on roots that grow in the water, and at the water’s edge; which position it never quits under any circumstances, either in summer or winter; but there it lives and dies, in quiet seclusion. It is perfectly herbivorous, and may often be seen sitting on a stone in the stream, or among the rushes on the bank-side, with a piece of succulent root beween its fore-paws, and nibbling its repast in perfect peace with every living thing. In its external appearance it is not unlike a diminutive otter, but is as timid and innocent in its expression as the otter is fierce and vindictive. It is of a reddish-brown colour, and about the size of a common sewer rat, but with a much shorter tail, which is covered with hair. It seems to have no ears, as they are so short that the fur entirely hides them; and its front teeth, or rather incisor teeth, are much longer and stronger than those of the other species of rats, and are perfectly yellow. It has young but twice a year, and very few at a birth; consequently the species is rather scarce. The great majority of those animals which we see about the ditches and rivers are the common brown rat.
The Black Rat (Mus Battus, Linnæus).
This species is one-third less than the brown rat, and with ears and tail longer in proportion. Its colour is greyish black. The head is elongated; the muzzle taper and divided, and garnished with numerous long black hairs. The upper jaw projects far beyond the lower, which is remarkably short; the tongue is smooth; the nostrils open and crescent-shaped; the eyes small, but black, and very prominent. It has three grinders in each jaw (the first of which is the largest), and four incisor or front teeth. In its disposition it is fierce, daring, and omnivorous.
Mr. Bell tells us that, independently of devouring every digestible substance, it will not refuse even old shoes or woollen clothes.
Blumenbach informs us that the black rat is extremely voracious; that it eats even scorpions, and follows man and his provisions everywhere, even on board his ships or into the deepest mines. Mr. Bell says that, from its inferiority in size, it has nearly disappeared; that the brown rat has superseded it to such a degree that with us it has become almost extinct.
This circumstance, it appears, has been a source of great pain and grief to our amusing traveller and naturalist Mr. Waterton, who tells us that he once rode fifty miles to see one, and that when he beheld it he could not help exclaiming, “Poor injured Briton! Hard, indeed, has