Snails

Moralists are keen on the ant, the fretful pismire that exemplifies the  Work Ethic*.  An easy paced snail, on the other hand, provokes no philosophical approval but rather  two practical reactions; one  brings metaldehyde, the other garlic-butter.

Were I a moralist, I might defend the snail in our age of consumerist values, over-production and hypertension. As a mere observer of the  natural scene, I am grateful to the genus because the lark on the wing is hard to spot but the snail on its  poetically traditional thorn can be brought into easy focus. Also  many of its members are rather pretty.

Several years ago, the Friends of The Ridgeway was asked to comment on a wildlife leaflet promoted by some pack of grant-funded  jobsworths. We suggested that besides the obscure, elusive,  furred-or-feathered kind in various shades of dingy brown; lime-clad creatures tinted  blue, lemon, orange might be observed rather than casually crunched underfoot. Officials numb the pain of a new idea by ignoring it, so this suggestion disappeared into the vast Inanity of Consultation.

Then, chatting with Nicholas Thomas, the Society's former Chairman and a pre-historian by vocation, I learnt that archaeologists find the remains of snails significant.

In pious debate, the case for this enchanting, instructive mollusc, this new-age exemplar for post-industrial society might rest here; but I write with practical intent. Can any member provide for our website an authoritative article on snails-along-The Ridgeway  present or prehistoric?  If you are  a learned and willing person, please contact the editor.

Peter Gould

According to mediaeval Bestiaries, ants do have a purpose beyond the parables of political economy in Aesop and the Bible.  Sick bears, especially bears who have overindulged on Mandrake berries, eat ants as medicine - and serve the formicating, sandwich-plundering, hyperactive little busybodies  right, I'd say. True, the  bear signifies  the devil. ravager of the flocks  of our Lord, but on the credit side, it specialises in unjust rulers and devours cheeky kids.

As so few etymologies based on a colourful story are defensible, it is gratifying that "pismire"  really does mean "piss in the mud", referring to the characteristic  smell of ants' nests.

Sources  OED
T H White The Book of Beasts
R Barber Bestiary

ROYAL PATRONAGE FOR WILTSHIRE SNAILS

Since writing on snails for the last Newsletter, I have come across two vaguely relevant extracts. The first is from Larkrise to Candleford chapter I, where I happened on it whilst pursuing the social history of the tomato.

"The family pig was everybody's pride and everybody's business . . .The children, on their way home from school, would fill their arms with sow thistle, dandelion, and choice long grass, or roam along the hedgerows on we evenings collecting snails in pails for the pig's supper These piggy crunched up with great relish."

Juniper Hill,  "Larkrise", is near Brackley on the Oxfordshire Northamptonshire border, miles north of the Ridgeway, but the pig was a staple of cottage economy and its appetite is much the same anywhere. Closer to the Trail, John Aubrey in his Natural History of Wiltshire Chapter XIII, recalls an excursion with Charles II (Charles I is a slip of the pen) and the future James II. 

Snailes are everywhere; but upon our downes, and so in Dorset, and I believe in Hampshire, at such degree east and west, in the summer time there are abundance of very small snailes on the grasse and corne, not much bigger, or no bigger than small pinnes heads. Though this no strange thing among us, yet they are not to be found in the north part of Wilts, nor on any northern wolds. When I had the honour to waite on King Charles I. And the Duke of York to the top of Silbury hill, his Royal Highness happened to cast his eye on some of these small snailes on the turfe of the hill. He was surprised with the novelty, and commanded me to pick some up, which I did, about a dozen or more, immediately; for they are in great abundance. The next morning as he was abed with his Dutches at Bath he told her of it, and sent Dr. Charleton to me for them, to shew her as a rarity"