attract attention by its peculiar colouring; its red tail and white
crown being sufficient to distinguish it from every other British
bird. It is familiar, too, in its habits, commonly resorting to
gardens, and searching for its favourite food, worms and insects, on
the lawn, and in orchards. It is local rather than rare, for while
there are some places to which it regularly resorts every year, there
are others in which it is never seen. Redstarts arrive in this country
about the end of April, and soon set about the work of building their
nest. This they generally place in a hole in a wall or hollow of a
tree, but sometimes by the mossy stump or amongst the exposed roots of
a tree. Occasionally they select a quaint domicile, a garden pot, for
example, left bottom upwards, or a sea-kale bed. A still stranger
instance is that of a pair of Redstarts, who, themselves or their
descendants, were for twenty years located in the box of a wooden
pump. On one occasion, the pump being out of order, the owner
employed workmen to repair it. This proceeding offended the birds, who
deserted it for three years, and then, forgetting or forgiving the
intrusion, returned to their unquiet home. Another pair constructed
their nest for ten successive years in the interior of an earthenware
fountain placed in the middle of a garden. But though not averse to
the haunts of men, the Redstart shows much anxiety when its nest is
approached, flitting about restlessly and uttering a plaintive cry. I
happened once to be walking in a friend's garden, and heard what I
supposed to be the chirping of two birds proceed from a large
apple-tree close by. As the notes were not familiar to me, I went
round the tree several times in order to discover whence they
proceeded. One of the notes was like the noise which may be made by
striking two pebbles together, the other a querulous chirp, and they
seemed to come from different parts of the tree. The author of the
music, however, allowed me several times to come very near him, and I
satisfied myself that both sounds proceeded from the same bird, a male
Redstart, whose nest, I afterwards heard, was built in an adjoining
shed. This singular power of ventriloquizing, or making its note
apparently proceed from a distant place, is possessed also by the
Nightingale, as any one may assure himself who will quietly creep up
to within a few yards of one of these birds when singing. The song of
the Redstart is short but pleasing, and it is emitted both while the
bird is at rest and on the wing, principally in the morning, and only
during two months of the year. Its food consists of small worms and
insects, which last it is very expert at catching on the wing; and in
summer, it regales itself on the soft fruits. Its nest is composed of
fibrous roots and moss, and is lined with hair, wool and feathers. It
lays about six eggs, which closely resemble those of the
Hedge-sparrow, only that they are smaller. In autumn, the Redstarts
retire southwards. On the African shores of the Mediterranean they are
very abundant, and are caught by the Arabs in traps of the simplest
construction. On the continent of Europe, notably in Italy, in spite
of their diminutive size, they are highly prized for food. The number
of Redstarts (both kinds), Redbreasts Fly-catchers and Nightingales
taken in traps is inconceivable. These birds being of about the same
size, and equally excellent in delicacy of flesh, are sold together in
all the market towns and are sent to the great cities. Thousands of
dozens are thus annually despatched; but this number is as nothing
compared with that consumed on the spot. In France Bird Protection has
done much to stop this cruel traffic. In the schools there the boys
and girls are now being taught to know and to care for the wild life
about them more than in our English Council Schools.
THE BLACK REDSTART
RUTICILLA TITYS
Upper plumage bluish grey; bill, cheeks, throat, and breast,
black, passing into bluish beneath; tail as in the last;
greater wing-coverts edged with pure white; second primary
equal to the seventh. _Female_--upper plumage duller; lower
bright ash, passing into white; wings dusky, edged with grey;
red of the tail less bright. Length, five inches and three
quarters. Eggs pure shining white.
A much less frequent visitor to this country than the preceding, but
by no means ranking among our rarest birds, specimens occurring in the
winter of every year in some part of England or another, especially in
Devon and Cornwall. Its habits are much the same as those of its
congener; but it generally chooses a loftier situation for its nest,
which is placed in the walls of buildings, at an elevation varying
from a few feet to eighty or ninety. Its plumage differs in being much
darker in the fore part of the body, while the tail is of a brighter
red. The eggs are white. It generally arrives in England about the
first week in November, and remains with us all the winter. Its nest
has never been found in this country.
THE REDBREAST, OR ROBIN
ERÍTHACUS RUBÉCULA
Upper parts brownish grey tinged with olive; forehead, lore,
and breast red, the red edged with ash-grey; abdomen white.
_Female_ like the _male_, except that the upper parts are
ash-brown, the red less bright, and the grey surrounding it
less conspicuous. Length, five inches and three quarters. Eggs
yellowish white, spotted with light reddish brown.
The Redbreast is everywhere invested with a kind of sanctity beyond
all other birds. Its wonted habit of making its appearance, no one
knows whence, to greet the resting traveller in places the most
lonely--its evident predilection for the society of the out-of-door
labourer, whatever his occupation--the constancy with which it affects
human habitations--and the readiness with which, without coaxing, or
taming, or training, it throws itself on human hospitality--engender
an idea that there must be some mysterious connexion between the
two--that if there were no men, there would be no Redbreasts. Trust on
one side engenders confidence on the other, and mutual attachment is
the natural result. There is something, too, beyond the power of
explanation in the fact that the Robin is the only bird which
frequents from choice the homes of men.
The habits of the Redbreast are so well known, that to describe them
would be simply to write down what every one has seen or may see.
It generally builds its nest in a hole, near the bottom of a hedge or
under the stump of a tree, in an ivy-clad wall, or amidst the creepers
trained round the veranda of a cottage. I have seen it also placed in
a niche in a wall intended for the reception of a vase, in a bee-hive
stored away on the rafters of an outhouse, and under a wisp of straw
accidentally left on the ground in a garden. It is usually composed of
dry leaves, roots, bents, and moss, lined with hair and wool, and
contains five or six eggs. The young birds are of a brown tint, and
have the feathers tipped with yellow, which gives them a spotted
appearance. Until they acquire the red breast, they are very unlike
the parents, and might be mistaken for young Thrushes, except that
they are much smaller. They may be often observed in gardens for many
days after they have left the nest, keeping together, perching in the
bushes, and clamorous for food, which the old birds bring to them from
time to time. It is said, that only one brood is reared in a year, but
this I am inclined to doubt, having observed in the same locality
families of young birds early in the spring, and late in the summer of
the same year. Towards the end of August, the young birds acquire the
distinctive plumage of their species, and are solitary in their habits
until the succeeding spring. The call-notes of the Redbreast are
numerous, and vary beyond the power of description in written words;
the song is loud, and it is needless to say, pleasing, and possesses
the charm of being continued when all our other feathered songsters
are mute. The red of the breast often has a brighter tint, it is
occasionally almost a carmine red. The late Lord Lilford told the
editor such were often birds that had been bred on the Continent.
Numbers of young birds come across the sea to us each autumn.
[Illustration:
Wheatear [F] [M]
Nightingale
Hedge-sparrow Robin
[_p. 16._]]
[Illustration:
Whitethroat [M] [M] Garden Warbler [F]
Lesser Whitethroat [M]
Blackcap [M]]
THE NIGHTINGALE
DAULIAS LUSCÍNIA
Upper plumage russet brown; tail bright rust-red; under
plumage buffish white; flanks pale ash colour. Length six and
a quarter inches; breadth nine and a half inches. Eggs uniform
olive-brown.
The southern, eastern, and some of the midland counties of England,
enjoy a privilege which is denied to the northern and western--an
annual visit, namely, from the Nightingale. It is easy enough to
understand why a southern bird should bound its travels northwards by
a certain parallel, but why it should keep aloof from Devon and
Cornwall, the climate of which approaches more closely to that of its
favourite continental haunts than many of the districts to which it
unfailingly resorts, is not so clear. Several reasons have been
assigned--one, that cowslips do not grow in these counties; this may
be dismissed at once as purely fanciful; another is, that the soil is
too rocky; this is not founded on fact, for both Devon and Cornwall
abound in localities which would be to Nightingales a perfect
Paradise, if they would only come; a third is, that the proper food is
not to be found there: but this reason cannot be admitted until it is
proved that the portions of the island to which the Nightingale does
resort abound in some kind of insect food which is not to be found in
the extreme southern counties, and that the Nightingale, instead of
being, as it is supposed, a general insect-eater, confines itself to
that one; and this is a view of the question which no one has ventured
to take. My own theory--and I only throw it out for consideration--is
that the Nightingale is not found in these two counties on account of
their peculiar geographical position. The continental Nightingales are
observed to take their departure in autumn, either eastward through
Hungary, Dalmatia, Greece, and the islands of the Archipelago; or
southwards across the Straits of Gibraltar, but none by the broad part
of the Mediterranean. Hence we may infer that the bird dislikes a long
sea voyage, and that when in spring it migrates northward and
westward, it crosses the English Channel at the narrowest parts
only,[3] spreads itself over the nearest counties in the direction of
its migration, but is instinctively prevented from turning so far back
again to the south as the south-west peninsula of England. From
Scotland it would be naturally excluded by its northern position, and
from Ireland by the Welsh mountains and the broad sea.
For the dwellers in these unfavoured districts alone is my description
of the Nightingale intended; for, where it abounds, its habits are too
well known to need any description. Twenty-four hours of genial May
weather spent in the country with a good use of the eyes and ears,
will reveal more of the life and habits of the bird than is contained
in all the ornithological treatises that have been written on the
subject, and they are not a few.
No great amount of caution is necessary in approaching the Nightingale
while singing at night. One may walk unrestrainedly across the fields,
talking in an ordinary tone of voice, and not even find it necessary
to suppress conversation when close to a singing bird. Either he is
too intent on his occupation to detect the presence of strangers, or
he is aware of the security in which he is wrapped by the shades of
night, or he is actually proud of having listeners. In the
neighbourhood of my present residence in Hertfordshire, Nightingales
are numerous. They arrive about the seventeenth of April, and for the
first few days assemble year after year in the bushes and hedges of a
certain hillside, the position of which it would be unsafe to indicate
particularly, and taking their station two or three hundred yards
apart from each other, set up a rivalry of song which is surpassingly
beautiful. At this season, one may hear five or six chanting at once;
every break in the song of the nearest being filled up by the pipings
or wailings of the more distant ones. The male birds arrive several
days before the female, and employ the interval, it is fancifully
said, in contending for the prize in a musical contest. This period is
anxiously watched for by bird-catchers, who have learnt by experience
that birds entrapped before they have paired will bear confinement in
a cage, but that those captured after the arrival of their mates pine
to death. The Nightingale being a fearless bird and of an inquisitive
nature is easily snared; hence, in the neighbourhood of cities, the
earliest and therefore strongest birds fall ready victims to the
fowler's art.
It must not be supposed that this bird sings by night only. Every day
and all day long, from his first arrival until the young are hatched
(when it becomes his duty to provide for his family), perched in a
hedge or on the branch of a tree, rarely at any considerable height
from the ground, he pours forth his roundelay, now, however, obscured
by the song of other birds. But not even by day is he shy, for he will
allow any quietly disposed person to approach near enough to him to
watch the movement of his bill and heaving chest. At the approach of
night he becomes silent, generally discontinuing his song about an
hour before the Thrush, and resuming it between ten and eleven. It is
a disputed point whether the Nightingale's song should be considered
joyous or melancholy. This must always remain a question of taste. My
own opinion is, that the piteous wailing note which is its most
characteristic nature, casts a shade of sadness as it were over the
whole song, even those portions which gush with the most exuberant
gladness. I think, too, though my assertion may seem a barbarous one,
that if the Nightingale's song comprised the wailing notes alone, it
would be universally shunned as the most painfully melancholy sound in
nature. From this, however, it is redeemed by the rapid transition,
just when the anguish of the bird has arrived at such a pitch as to be
no longer supportable, to a passage overflowing with joy and gladness.
In the first or second week of June he ceases his song altogether. His
cataract of sweet sounds is exhausted, and his only remaining note is
a harsh croak exactly resembling that of a frog, or the subdued note
of a raven, _wate-wate_ or _cur-cur_. On one occasion only I have
heard him in full song so late as the fourth week in June: but this
probably was a bird whose first nest had been destroyed, and whose
song consequently had been retarded until the hatching of a second
brood. From this time until the end of August, when he migrates
eastward, he may often be observed picking up grubs, worms, and ants'
eggs on the garden lawn, or under a hedge in fields, hopping from
place to place with an occasional shake of the wings and raising of
the tail, and conspicuous whenever he takes one of his short flights
by his chestnut brown tail-coverts.
The Nightingale's nest is constructed of dead leaves, principally of
the oak, loosely put together and placed on the ground under a bush.
Internally it is lined with grass, roots, and a few hairs. It contains
four or five eggs of a uniform olive-brown.
[3] This is the opinion of Gilbert White.
SUB-FAMILY ACCENTORINÆ
THE HEDGE SPARROW
ACCENTOR MODULÁRIS
Crown of the head ash colour, with brown streaks; sides of the
neck, throat, and breast, bluish grey; bill strong and broad
at base; wing-coverts and feathers on the back reddish brown,
with a tawny spot in the centre; middle wing-coverts tipped
with yellowish white; lower tail-coverts brown, with a whitish
border; middle of abdomen white. Length five and a half
inches. Eggs greenish blue, without spots.
Inveterate custom has so attached the name of Hedge Sparrow to this
bird, that in spite of all the efforts of ornithologists to convince
the world that it is no sparrow at all (a hard-beaked, grain-eating
bird), but a true warbler, it is still more frequently called by its
popular name than by any of those that have been suggested. The
gentle, innocent, confiding, little brown bird, which creeps like a
mouse through our garden flower-beds, picks up a meagre fare in our
roads and lanes, builds its nest in our thorn hedges, and though dingy
itself, lays such brilliant blue eggs, has been known to us from our
infancy as a 'Hedge Sparrow', and we decline any innovation: the name
is a time-honoured one, and no one will mistake us. Hedge Accentor,
Hedge Warbler, and Shuffle-wing, are names open to those who prefer
them, but we adhere to the old-fashioned designation of Hedge Sparrow.
This bird is a genuine Warbler, and one of the few belonging to the
tribe who remain with us all the winter; we should suppose, indeed,
that he never wandered far from the place of his birth. At all seasons
his habits and food appear to be the same. All day long he is
shuffling about on the ground picking up minute atoms, whether seeds
or insects, who knows? Every day, nearly all the year round, he
repairs at intervals to the nearest hedge, where he sings a song, soft
and gentle like himself; and every evening, when the Blackbird rings
his curfew bell, he fails not to respond with his drowsy _cheep_,
_cheep_, as he repairs to the bush he has selected for his night's
rest. Very early in spring, before his brother warblers have arrived
from the south, he has chosen his mate, built his snug nest, and too
probably commenced a second; for unsuspicious in nature, he does not
retire to solitary places for this purpose, and the leafless hedges
but ill conceal his labours from the peering eyes of all-destroying
ploughboys. Such are nearly all his "short and simple annals". He
quarrels with no one, he achieves no distinction, throwing no one into
ecstasies with his song, and stealing no one's fruit; unobtrusive and
innocent, he claims no notice, and dreads no resentment; and so,
through all the even tenor of his way, he is, without knowing it, the
favourite of children, and of all the good and gentle.
SUB-FAMILY SYLVIINÆ
THE WHITETHROAT
SYLVIA CINÉREA
Head ash-grey; rest of the upper parts grey, tinged with rust
colour; wings dusky, the coverts edged with red; lower parts
white, faintly tinged on the breast with rose colour; tail
dark brown, the outer feather white at the tip and on the
outer web, the next only tipped with white. _Female_ without
the rose tint on the breast, but with the upper plumage more
decidedly tinged with red; feet brown. Length five inches and
a half; breadth eight and a half. Eggs greenish white, thickly
spotted with reddish and greenish brown. Young, leaving nest,
differ very little from adult birds.
The Whitethroat is in England the most common of all the migratory
warblers, and is generally diffused. It is essentially a hedge-bird,
neither taking long flights nor resorting to lofty trees. Early in May
it may be detected in a hawthorn or other thick bush, hopping from
twig to twig with untiring restlessness, frequently descending to the
ground, but never making any stay, and all the while incessantly
babbling with a somewhat harsh but not unpleasant song, composed of
numerous rapid and short notes, which have but little either of
variety or compass. Occasionally it takes a short flight along the
hedge, generally on the side farthest from the spectator, and proceeds
to another bush a few yards on, where it either repeats the same
movements, or perches on a high twig for a few seconds. From time to
time it rises into the air, performing curious antics and singing all
the while. Its short flight completed, it descends to the same or an
adjoining twig; and so it seems to spend its days. From its habit of
creeping through the lower parts of hedges, it has received the
popular name of 'Nettle-creeper'. From the grey tone of its plumage,
it is in some districts of France called '_Grisette_', and in others,
from its continuous song, '_Babillarde_', names, however, which are
popularly applied without distinction to this species and the next.
While singing it keeps the feathers of its head erected, resembling in
this respect the Blackcap and several of the other warblers. Though
not naturally a nocturnal musician, it does not, like most other
birds, when disturbed at night, quietly steal away to another place of
shelter, but bursts into repeated snatches of song, into which there
seems to be infused a spice of anger against the intruder.[4] Its food
consists of insects of various kinds; but when the smaller fruits
begin to ripen, it repairs with its young brood to our gardens, and
makes no small havoc among raspberries, currants, and cherries. It
constructs its nest among brambles and nettles, raised from two to
three feet from the ground, of bents and the dry stems of herbs, mixed
with cobweb, cotton from the willow, bits of wool, and horsehair. It
usually lays five eggs.
[4] This night song is rarely heard except in the months of May
and June.
THE LESSER WHITETHROAT
SYLVIA CURRÚCA
Head and lore dark ash-grey; rest of the upper parts greyish
ash, tinged with brown; wings brown, edged with ash-grey; tail
dusky, outer feather as in the last, the two next tipped with
white; lower parts pure silvery white; feet deep lead colour.
Length five inches and a quarter. Eggs greenish white, spotted
and speckled, especially at the larger end, with ash and
brown.
Gilbert White in his charming history says, "A rare, and I think a new
little bird frequents my garden, which I have very great reason to
think is the Pettichaps; it is common in some parts of the kingdom;
and I have received formerly dead specimens from Gibraltar. This bird
much resembles the Whitethroat, but has a more white, or rather
silvery breast and belly; is restless and active, like the
Willow-wrens, and hops from bough to bough, examining every part for
food; it also runs up the stems of the crown-imperials, and, putting
its head into the bells of those flowers, sips the liquor which stands
in the nectarium of each petal. Sometimes it feeds on the ground like
the Hedge-Sparrow, by hopping about on the grass plots and mown
walks." The little bird of which the amiable naturalist gives so
interesting a description, was, there is little doubt, that which is
now called the Lesser Whitethroat, then a 'new bird', inasmuch as it
had not been made a distinct species, and necessarily a 'rare bird',
not because a few only visited Britain, but because, until his time
set the example, competent observers of birds were rare. It differs
externally from the preceding, in its smaller size, and the darker
colour of its beak, upper plumage, and feet, and resembles it closely
in its habits, though I have never observed that it indulges in the
eccentric perpendicular flights, which have gained for its congener,
the Greater Whitethroat, the quaint sobriquet of 'singing skyrocket.'
It feeds, too, on insects, and is not found wanting when raspberries
and cherries are ripe. But no matter what number of these it consumes,
it ought with its companions to be welcomed by the gardener as one of
his most valuable friends. For it should be borne in mind, that these
birds, by consuming a portion of a crop of ripe fruit, do not at all
injure the trees, but that the countless aphides and caterpillars
which they devoured at an earlier period of the year, would, if they
had been allowed to remain, have feasted on the leaves and young
shoots, and so not only have imperilled the coming crop, but damaged
the tree so materially as to impair its fertility for some time to
come. Those birds, therefore, which in spring feed on insects and
nourish their young on the same diet, may be considered as necessary
to protect from injury the trees which are destined to supply them
with support when insect food becomes scarce. Consider what would be
the result if the proper food of birds were leaves, or if insects were
permitted to devour the foliage unchecked! our woods would be
leafless, our gardens would become deserts.
THE GARDEN WARBLER
SYLVIA HORTENSIS
Upper parts greyish brown, slightly tinged with olive; orbits
white; below the ear a patch of ash-grey; throat dull white;
breast and flanks grey, tinged with rust colour; rest of the
under parts dull white. Length five inches and three-quarters;
breadth eight and a half. Eggs greenish white, speckled with
two shades of greenish brown.