heavily laden evergreens. The branches of the oaks rapidly gave way, while the thickly encased foliage of the hemlocks hung drooping around the stems, upon their long pliant branches, until they appeared like a solid mass, or monumental pillar of ice. In order to obtain some data for estimating the increased weight which the forest trees had now to sustain, I cut off and weighed several boughs of different species, and compared them after the ice was removed by thawing. The following is the result: — By this it appears that the evergreens had about twenty times their accustomed burden. Feb. 10th. This morning was clear and frosty; the rain had ceased, and the wind changed to north-west, although it was scarcely perceptible. A check seemed to have been given to the work of devastation. Fewer branches fell to the earth; yet still, throughout this day, one heard in all quarters the loud thundering crash of falling timber echoing through the woods. Those whose dwellings were situated in the dangerous proximity to these scenes have had two sleepless nights. Within the limits of fifteen acres of wood in my own occupation, I have had fifty of my largest trees overthrown, and not a single deciduous tree in that area escaped entire. This "storm" has produced, as may be conceived, numerous accidents and inconveniences. Few travellers that were passing through the woods on the 9th and 10th escaped without being hemmed in, and their vehicles blocked up by the fallen timber. Waggons, slades, and sleighs were necessarily abandoned, and the horses, in some instances, with difficulty saved. All the roads around this place were thus stopped up by fallen timber, and by loaded carriages, for some days. At the interval of nearly a year, the navigation of the Moshannon Creek, from hence to the Susquehanna, continues choked by the trees which fell into it during this period. On the summit of the neighbouring Alleghany Mountains, where the pitch pines [Pinus púngens Lambert] are almost the only trees that attain to any magnitude in that elevated and barren region, there has been prodigious destruction; and, in some spots, not a single pine has been left standing. The white-oak groves have particularly suffered, and incalculable numbers have been uprooted. Accounts reach us of this "ice storm" extending through Pennsylvania, and part of New York state, and of the travellers who were constrained to pass the night in the woods, hemmed in by the fallen timber. Months after, I observed its effects in the pine forests, at the distance of a hundred miles, and the oldest settlers affirm that nothing equalling it, in extent and destruction, has occurred in their recollection. On the 12th, a thaw, accompanied by heavy rain, soon cleared the drooping forest of its unwonted covering. January and February. The snow, though almost constantly on the ground, was not accumulated to such a depth as last winter, owing to the occasional thaws. Flocks of greenfinches continued in the vicinity of the warm springs, near my residence, throughout the winter. Feb. 27th. Several white sea-gulls appeared this day. 29th. A few straggling blackbirds. Some March 2d. A large flight of wild geese passed towards the north. 3d. A single robin appeared on the Beaver Dams, followed by considerable numbers on the next day. 5th. A solitary frog commenced croaking in the swamps. wild ducks shot, and trout caught by angling. 6th. Numerous spring visiters enliven the surrounding woods. The hen hawks scream harshly as they wheel in circling flights. Jays abound; thrushes sing cheerily; crows loudly caw; cat-birds are heard in the bushes; and bluebirds are busy running over the lately flooded meadows. The ditches swarm with pretty speckled lizards, which, warmed by the cheerful sun, have crawled out of their muddy retreats. 11th. Blackbirds (Icterus phoeniceus, red-winged starling, or marsh blackbird, of Audubon), in flocks of more than a thousand, resume their cheerful chirping, or rather screaming. Sometimes these great flocks will suddenly alight on the summit of a lofty pine, and commence their gossiping concert, after a short preliminary pause. This commencement seems to be regulated by a signal from their leader. Then follows another pause, and perfect silence prevails: and, again, every bird in company strains his throat, as if desirous to be the loudest in the choir. Again a pause, and off they all fly, and vanish in an instant, seeking some other tree, whereon again to resume their discordant yet social concert. 13th. A flock of fifty wild swans alighted upon the Beaver Dams, and some were shot. My space obliges me to omit further details of this spring. The summer and fall have been unusually dry and temperate. The navigation of the creeks and rivers has been suspended, for want of water, to the present time. Dec. 9th. Very little appearance of winter at present, and the air as mild as in November in England. After two days' rain, the Moshannon Creek has at length filled its channel, so as to form a small freshet. Several species of birds are even yet lingering in the woods. A young bear appeared at the bottom of my garden, within 60 yards of my house, last week, and frightened my children not a little. The cry of a panther has also been heard near us. The wolves have deserted us. I am, Sir, yours, &c. RICHARD C. TAYLOR. Beaver Dams, Philipsburg, Centre County, Pennsylvania, ART. II. An Account of the Hurricane at Thorndon Park, the Seat of Lord Petre, October 12. 1831. By JACOB GEORGE STRUTT, Esq. Sir, "Venti vis. Interdum, rapido percurrens turbine campos Lucretius, lib. i. 1. 272. "Oft through the ravaged plain In sudden whirlwind sweeps the furious gale, O'erthrows majestic trees, and with strong blasts In transmitting to you the enclosed account, from the Chelmsford paper, of the storm that took place in Lord Petre's park at Thorndon, in Essex, on the evening of the 12th of October, 1831, I have little or nothing to add, besides my own testimony, as an eyewitness, to the fidelity of the description. The rumour of this extraordinary operation of the fury of the elements reached me in a distant part of the country, and irresistibly tempted me, as an ardent admirer of sylvan scenery under every variety of aspect, to explore the scene of devastation. Accordingly, armed with my crayon and pencils, I repaired to the spot, where I passed the chief part of the day in rambling about, and sketching the most remarkable features in this tract of desolation. The accompanying cut (fig. 11.), which has been beautifully executed by Mr. Williams, from a pencil sketch which I traced on the block, represents a prostrate oak, which had stood nearly in the centre of the havoc, and at no great distance from the road leading to the Lion Gate. Norwich, July 26. 1832. I am, Sir, yours, &c. JACOB GEORge Strutt. The Hurricane at Thorndon Park. On the evening of Wednesday the 12th instant [October, 1881], a destructive hurricane ravaged a considerable portion of the park of Thorndon Hall, the seat of Lord Petre, near Brentwood. The blast came on about eight o'clock, and in less than four minutes the work of havoc was completed. It appears that the wind came from the south-west, and entered the park near the Lion's Lodge, where it threw down a small portion G-WILLIAMS 5. of the paling. It then traversed the park in a varying sweep of about 150 yards' breadth. It is difficult to form any idea of the manner in which it took its course, as it has made many singular selections of spots and single trees. The line of desolation is not an uninterrupted one: in many places, a large breadth of trees has escaped unhurt, while others, apparently sheltered by them, have been shivered or torn up by the roots. In some groups of three or four trees, one of the least exposed has shared in the ruin, while its more exposed neighbours have not lost a leaf. On entering the park at the Lion's Lodge, on the west or Warley side, the eye is immediately attracted to the right hand by several oaks, 60 feet long, which have been torn up by the roots, and to which are adhering masses of earth, 14 feet in length, and from three to four feet in thickness. A beautiful beech has been partly removed from the soil by the uptearing of neighbouring trees, and its lofty top rests on others, at an angle of about 30 degrees. The stems of many trees are off within a few feet from the earth, some at a height of two or three feet, others at a greater height; and one elm has been severed at about 20 feet from the ground, 15 feet of the stump having had half its body torn away. In one place, about 100 yards from this spot, the destruction has been tremendous. In a circle of nearly 40 yards' diameter, whole trunks, huge limbs and branches, with immense masses of earth, lie on the ground in wild confusion, mingled in such a manner that it is impossible to count the number of trees destroyed. It appears as if a battery of heavy artillery had been directed against a great mass of timber, which had crowded that part of the park. In some instances the stems exhibit to the eye the appearance of having been cut off; in others, they are rent from top to bottom, or have had their giant limbs twisted off, as if they had been but so many twigs. Lofty oaks have been struck near their summits, and immense portions of their upper limbs and branches torn down, but are not quite severed from their parent stem, and, with their heads resting on the ground, form a sort of tent of foliage upwards of 30 feet high. The hurricane spared neither the lofty nor the lowly, neither the mighty oak nor the humble holly the strong and the weak alike fell before the blast; and stripling trees, which one might have supposed would have escaped, shared the same fate with the monarchs of the park. Several oaks had at least a dozen immense branches torn off, while the majestic trunk has not lost a foot of its height, and in many instances the limbs and branches of standing trees are twisted and interlaced in a variety of fantastic shapes, and, whichever way the spectator |