Country Rambles, and Manchester Walks and Wild Flowers. Leo H. Grindon

may be likened to fossils. Carrington Moss, in parts where drained, is strewed with such bits of the silver birch, declared by the shining whiteness of the bark. The trees that these bits belonged to no doubt grew tall and leafy on the spot that is now their sepulchre and memorial. Flowers and seeds of bog plants are also found low down in the moss, almost as fresh as if newly fallen. In the middle, these vast vegetable tumuli are often twenty or thirty feet deep. In any part a walking–stick may be plunged in for its full length, and though by stepping and standing on the denser tufts of heather, it is quite easy to walk about dry–shod, it is quite as easy by uncarefulness, especially after wet weather, to be in a pool of water up to the ankle in a few minutes. There is no danger in walking upon the mosses, merely this little risk of getting wet–footed, which is more than compensated by the curious objects that may be found upon them. In winter and dull weather they are desolate enough, but on a summer afternoon full of reward. Owing to their immense capacity for absorption, many mosses swell into mounds higher than the surrounding country, as happens at Carrington; and after heavy rains this enlargement is so much increased that distant objects are concealed from view until evaporation and drainage have caused subsidence to the ordinary level. Before Ashton Moss (between Droylsden and Ashton–under–Lyne) was drained, trees and houses were often lost to view for many days, by persons residing on the opposite side.

      That this is the true origin of the mosses is rendered fairly certain by the circumstance of works of human art having often been found at the bottom. When Ashton Moss was drained, there were found under the peat a Celtic axe and some Roman coins;[11] and in another part, at the foot of one of the old stumps of trees, a quantity of charred wood, betokening that a fire had once been lighted there. The coins would naturally suggest that some old Roman soldier had had a hand in the kindling, and the well–known fact of the extensive felling of trees by the Romans, both in road–making, and to aid them in the subjugation of the country, has led to the belief with some, that to these people may partially be attributed the origination of the mosses. The trees and scattered branches encumbering the ground, are supposed to have checked the free passage of floods and other water, which, becoming stagnated, gradually destroyed the growing timber, and eventually led to the results described above. Baines (History of Lancashire, iii. 131) says of Chat Moss, that it was originally the site of an immense forest, but was reduced to a bog by the Roman invaders, at a period coeval with the first promulgation of the Christian religion. It would probably be no error to assert with Whitaker, that the whole of the country round Manchester, and not merely the site of Chat Moss, was, at the time of the Romans, covered with trees. One thing is quite certain, namely, that the formation of the mosses is comparatively recent, and probably much within one thousand eight hundred years. They appear to rest universally on a clayey substratum, and it is very interesting to observe that where the peat is wholly removed, for the purpose of fuel, as upon Holford Moss, near Toft and Peover, the clay surface being then laid bare, birch–trees spring up unsown. The seeds of these trees must have been lying there since they ripened, unable to vegetate previously for want of air and the solar warmth. It is quite a familiar phenomenon for plants to spring up in this way from seeds that have been buried for ages, especially on earth laid bare by cuttings for railways and similar works; so in truth it is no more than would be expected in connection with the clearing away of peat, and the restoration of the under–surface. The tree next in frequency to the birch, as a denizen of the old silva, appears to have been the oak.

      “Moors” are a more consolidated form of mosses. Seated, most usually, on higher and more easily drained ground than the mosses, they have in some cases preserved a drier nature from the first; in others, they have become drier in the course of time, through the escape of their moisture by runnels to lower levels; and in others again, they have allowed of easy artificial draining, and conversion to purposes of pasturage and tillage, or at least over a considerable portion of their surface, and have thus disappeared into farm–land. The most extensive and celebrated mosses about Manchester, still undrained, are Chat Moss, Carrington Moss, and Clifton Moss, near the Clifton railway station, on the left hand of the Bolton–road. Fifteen years ago (i.e. in 1843), White Moss and Ashton Moss might have been included in the list, but both of these are now largely brought under cultivation. The most celebrated moors are now nearly all under the power of the plough, as Baguley Moor and Sale Moor, while Newton Heath is covered with houses.

      The above chapter was written in 1858. The story of the sundews has now become an old familiar one, having been placed prominently before the world by Dr. Hooker during the 1874 meeting of the British Association, when the novelty of the theme attracted universal attention to it. It has been dealt with also by Mr. Darwin and many of his disciples. The facts described have all been verified, though there is still considerable difference of opinion in regard to the digestive process. This question is one we cannot pretend to go further into at present; it remains for the rising generation of Manchester, and other local physiologists, to recognise the value of the opportunities they possess in having the plants themselves so close at hand. Upon Carrington, however, the Droseras seem to be less plentiful than they were forty years ago. The draining at the margins appears to have favoured the growth of the heather, as well as to have rendered the moss less swampy. If deficient here, there are plenty elsewhere, the sundews being to peat–bogs what daisies are to the meadows. Since 1858 the approaches to the moss from the Manchester side have also been a good deal altered, and enquiry must now be made of residents in the neighbourhood when seeking the most convenient means of access.

      Extending so far in the direction of Dunham, the wooded slopes of which latter are plainly visible from all parts, wet Carrington—