Museum at Macao—Mr. Beale’s splendid aviary and
gardens—The Paradise bird—Natural history of this splendid
creature—Anecdotes—Superb magpie—Loris—Description of the
aviary.
A museum has been established at Macao, by the English residents, and
even now contains an extensive and excellent collection of birds, beasts,
weapons, fossils, &c. from all parts of the world. Several rooms are
appropriated solely for this collection, having a person to take charge
of them, and attend upon visitors. So little encouragement, however, is
given to natural science, and the European merchants are so much absorbed
in mercantile affairs, that, on the dissolution of the establishment
of the Honourable East India Company, this excellent nucleus for an
extensive, valuable, and, (with scientific arrangement,) useful
collection, will no doubt be broken up and dispersed.
The great object of attraction at Macao, (together with the agreeable
society of the English and American ladies, and the beautiful specimens
of the fine arts to be seen in the painting room of the celebrated
Chinnery,) is the splendid aviary and gardens of T. Beale, Esq. How
pleasant it is to see this gentleman (now resident for upwards of forty
years in China) devote his leisure moments to the care and delight of
the elegant and brilliant productions of nature, both in the animal as
well as in the vegetable kingdom. On entering the large doors, which open
from a narrow lane, the ear is saluted by various noises proceeding from
a number of caged birds, inhabiting the verandah of the dwelling. The
peculiar notes of the Minas, the different screams of Loris, parrots,
and parroquets, the twitting of the smaller birds, are variously heard
vying with each other in loudness; the occasional caw of the ætherial
Paradise Bird, or its resounding note of _whock, whock, whock_, is also
heard. The attention of the visitor is diverted from the elegant plumage
of the birds to the beautiful flowers of splendid tints in the garden
before the verandah, or placed in pots upon the balcony. This garden
proves attractive to the gay, but fickle butterflies that flit about the
flowers, as well as to numerous wild birds. Individuals visiting Macao
are eager to view these splendid natural objects; and the liberal owner
readily affords this gratification to the stranger no less than to his
friends.
The first, both for variety as well as the inconceivable delicacy of
its plumage and tints, of which I intend to attempt a description, is
that “aërial creature” of fairy form, decked in nature’s most delicate
and beautiful colours, the _Paradise Bird_. This is the common or Great
Bird of Paradise, the _Paradisea apoda_[16] of Linnæus, the _P. major_
of Shaw. The length of the bird is usually two feet, measuring from the
bill to the tip of the side feathers. The specimen in the possession of
Mr. Beale, is a fine male, and was, at the time I beheld him, arrayed in
his full and splendid plumage: he is enclosed in a large and roomy cage,
so as not, by confinement, to injure in the slightest degree his delicate
and elegant feathers.
This beautiful creature has been in Mr. Beale’s possession nine years,
and was originally procured from the island of Bouro, (one of the
Molucca group,) which is situated in about the latitude of 3° 30′ south,
and longitude 126° 30′ east. It was presented to Mr. Beale by Mr.
Bletterman.
In Valentin’s account of the Birds of Paradise, (quoted in Forrest’s
Voyage to New Guinea, &c.) it is mentioned that the Portuguese first
found these birds on the island of Gilolo, the Papua Islands, and New
Guinea; and they were known by the name of _Passaros da sol_, i.e. birds
of the sun. The inhabitants of Ternate call them _Manuco dewata_, the
bird of God. The accounts of the bird having no legs, being constantly
on the wing, and in the air, on which it lived, are of course perfectly
fabulous: to support which account, however, the legs of the birds were
always cut off, when the preserved specimens were offered for sale.
Another reason for cutting off the legs is, that the birds are found to
be more easily preserved without them; besides, that the Moors wanted the
birds without legs, in order to put them, in their mock fights, on their
helmets, as ornaments. The inhabitants of Aroo, however, have offered the
birds for sale with legs these seventy or eighty years; and Pigafetta,
shipmate of Ferdinand Magelhaens, who had often seen them, proved, about
the year 1525, that they were not without legs. There are several
species of these very elegant birds.
The Ternate people call them Burong Papua, or Papua birds; sometimes
Manuco dewata, and likewise Soffu or Sioffu. The Amboyna natives call
them Manu, key, aroo, the bird of the islands, Key and Aroo; because the
natives of the two last places bring them for sale to Banda and Amboyna.
At Aroo, the people call them Fanaan. Properly, these birds are not found
in Key, which is fifty Dutch miles east of Banda; but they are found
at the Aroo islands (lying fifteen Dutch miles further east than Key)
during the westerly or dry monsoon, and they return to New Guinea as soon
as the easterly or wet monsoon sets in. They come always in a flock of
thirty or forty, and are led by a bird which the inhabitants of Aroo call
the King, distinct from the Little King Bird of Paradise. This leader
is black, with red spots, and constantly flies higher than the rest of
the flock, which never forsake him, but settle as soon as he settles; a
circumstance which occasions their ruin, when their king alights on the
ground; whence they are not able to rise, on account of the singular
structure and disposition of their plumage. They are likewise unable to
fly with the wind, which would destroy their loose plumage, but take
their flight constantly against it, cautious not to venture out in
hard-blowing weather, inasmuch as a strong gale frequently obliges them
to fall to the ground. It is also stated, that in Aroo, these birds
settle on the highest trees, especially on a species of small-leaved
Waringa trees, that bear red berries, on which they chiefly live. (Ficus
Benjamina? Hort. Malab. 3. f. 55. Rumph. Amboyn. 3. f. 90.) The natives
catch them with birdlime[17] and in nooses, or shoot them with blunt
arrows; but though some are still alive, when they fall into their hands,
the catchers kill them immediately; and often cut their legs off, draw
the entrails, dry and fumigate them with sulphur, or smoke only.[18]
For the delicacy and harmony in the arrangement of the colours in this
bird, as well as its remarkably light and delicate appearance, it may
well be named the Bird of the Sun, or of Paradise, for it surpasses
in beauty the whole of the feathered creation, appearing more like a
celestial inhabitant than one of earth. Although the bird has been nine
years in Mr. Beale’s aviary, yet it does not exhibit the appearance of
age, but is lively and healthy.
The neck of this bird is of a beautiful and delicate canary yellow
colour, blending gradually into the fine chocolate colour of the other
parts of the body; the wings are very short, and of a chocolate colour.
Underneath them, long, delicate, and gold-coloured feathers proceed from
the sides in two beautiful and graceful tufts, extending far beyond the
tail, which is also short, of a chocolate colour, with two very long
shafts of the same hue proceeding from the urupigium. At the base of the
mandibles the delicate plumage has during one time (according as the rays
of light are thrown upon it) the appearance of fine black velvet, and
at another a very dark green, which contrasts admirably with the bright
emerald of the throat. There is nothing abrupt or gaudy in the plumage
of this bird; the colours harmonize in the most elegant manner, and the
chasteness does not fail of exciting our admiration. The mandibles are of
a light blue; irides bright yellow; and the feet of a lilac tint.
This elegant creature has a light, playful, and graceful manner, with an
arch and impudent look; dances about when a visitor approaches the cage,
and seems delighted at being made an object of admiration: its notes are
very peculiar, resembling the cawing of the raven, but its tones are by
far more varied.[19] During four months of the year, from May to August,
it moults. It washes itself regularly twice daily, and after having
performed its ablutions, throws its delicate feathers up nearly over the
head, the quills of which feathers have a peculiar structure, so as to
enable the bird to effect this object. Its food, during confinement, is
boiled rice, mixed up with soft egg, together with plantains, and living
insects of the grasshopper tribe; these insects when thrown to him, the
bird contrives to catch in its beak with great celerity; it will eat
insects in a living state, but will not touch them when dead.
I observed the bird, previously to eating a grasshopper, given him in an
entire or unmutilated state, place the insect upon the perch, keep it
firmly fixed with the claws, and, divesting it of the legs, wings, &c.,
devour it, with the head always placed first. The servant who attends
upon him to clean the cage, give him food, &c., strips off the legs,
wings, &c., of the insects when alive, giving them to the bird as fast
as he can devour them. It rarely alights upon the ground, and so proud
is the creature of its elegant dress, that it never permits a soil to
remain upon it, and it may frequently be seen spreading out its wings
and feathers, and regarding its splendid self in every direction, to
observe whether the whole of its plumage is in an unsullied condition. It
does not suffer from the cold weather during the winter season at Macao,
though exposing the elegant bird to the bleak northerly wind is always
very particularly avoided. Mr. Beale is very desirous of procuring a
living female specimen of this bird, to endeavour, if possible, to breed
them in his aviary.[20]
The sounds uttered by this bird are very peculiar; that which appears to
be a note of congratulation resembles somewhat the cawing of a raven,
but changes to a varied scale in musical gradations, as _he, hi, ho,
haw_, repeated rapidly and frequently, as lively and playfully he hops
round and along his perch, descending to the second perch to be admired,
and congratulate the stranger who has made a visit to inspect him; he
frequently raises his voice, sending forth notes of such power as to
be heard at a long distance, and as it would scarcely be supposed so
delicate a bird could utter; these notes are _whock, whock, whock,
whock_, uttered in a barking tone, the last being given in a low note as
a conclusion.
A drawing of the bird, of the natural size, was made by a Chinese artist.
This was taken one morning to the original, who paid a compliment to
the artist, by considering it one of his own species. The bird advanced
stedfastly towards the picture, uttering at the same time its cawing
congratulatory notes; it did not appear excited by rage, but pecked
gently at the representation, jumping about the perch, knocking its
mandibles together with a clattering noise, and cleaning them against the
perch, as if welcoming the arrival of a companion.
After the trial with the picture, a looking-glass was brought, to see
what effect it would produce upon the bird, and the result was nearly
the same; he regarded the reflection of himself most stedfastly in the
mirror, never quitting it during the time it remained before him. When
the glass was removed to the lower, from the upper perch, he instantly
followed, but would not descend upon the floor of the cage when it was
placed so low.
It seemed impatient, hopping about without withdrawing its gaze from
the mirror, uttering the usual cawing notes, but with evident surprise
that the reflected figure (or, as he seemed to regard it, his opponent)
imitated so closely all his actions, and was as watchful as himself.
There was, however, on his part, no indication of combativeness by any
elevation of the feathers, nor was any irritation displayed at not
being able to approach nearer to the supposed new comer from his own
native land. His attention was directed to the mirror during the time
it remained before him, but when removed he went quietly and composed
himself upon the upper perch, as if nothing had excited him.
One of the best opportunities of seeing this splendid bird in all its
beauty of action, as well as display of plumage, is early in the morning,
when he makes his toilet; the beautiful sub-alar plumage is then thrown
out and cleaned from any spot that may sully its purity, by being passed
gently through the bill; the short, chocolate-coloured wings are extended
to the utmost, and he keeps them in a steady flapping motion, as if
in imitation of their use in flight, at the same time raising up the
delicate long feathers over the back, which are spread in a chaste and
elegant manner, floating like films in the ambient air. In this position
the bird would remain for a short time, seemingly proud of its heavenly
beauty, and in raptures of delight with its most enchanting self; it
will then assume various attitudes, so as to regard its plumage in every
direction.
I never yet beheld a soil on its feathers. After expanding the wings it
would bring them together so as to conceal the head, then, bending it
gracefully, it would inspect the state of its plumage underneath. This
action is repeated in quick succession, uttering at the time its croaking
notes; it then pecks and cleans its plumage in every part within reach,
and throwing out the elegant and delicate tuft of feathers underneath the
wings, seemingly with much care, and with not a little pride, they are
cleaned in succession, if required, by throwing them abroad, elevating,
and passing them in succession through the bill. Then, turning its back
to the spectator, the actions above-mentioned are repeated, but not in
so careful a manner; elevating its tail and long shaft feathers, it
raises the delicate plumage of a similar character to the sub-alar,
forming a beautiful dorsal crest, and, throwing its feathers up with
much grace, appears as proud as a lady dressed in her full ball-dress.
Having completed the toilet, he utters the usual cawing notes, at the
same time looking archly at the spectators, as if ready to receive all
the admiration that it considers its elegant form and display of plumage
demands; it then takes exercise by hopping in a rapid, but graceful
manner, from one end of the upper perch to the other, and descends
suddenly upon the second perch, close to the bars of the cage, looking
out for the grasshoppers, which it is accustomed to receive at this time.
Should any person place his finger into the cage the bird darts at it
rapidly; if it is inserted and withdrawn quickly, the slightly-curved
extremity of the upper mandible causes the intruder to receive a sharp
peck, but if the finger is placed quietly in the cage, close to the
beak of the animal, he grasps and thrusts it out, as if hinting that he
dislikes its intrusion.
His prehensile power in the feet is very strong, and, still retaining his
hold, the bird will turn himself round upon the perch. He delights to be
sheltered from the glare of the sun, as that luminary is a great source
of annoyance to him, if permitted to dart its fervent rays directly upon
the cage. The iris frequently expanding and contracting, adds to the
arch, wicked look of this animated bird, as he throws the head on one
side to glance at visitors, uttering the cawing notes, or barking aloud,
to the astonishment of the auditors, who regard the bird as being in a
very great rage at something or other beyond their conception. Having
concluded, he jumps down to the lower perch in search of donations of
living grasshoppers, seemingly in the most happy and good-humoured manner.
The bird is not at all ravenous in its habits of feeding; but it eats
rice leisurely, almost grain by grain. Should any of the insects thrown
into his cage fall on the floor, he will not descend to them, appearing
to be fearful that in so doing he should soil his delicate plumage; he
therefore seldom or ever descends, except to perform his ablutions in the
pan of water placed at the bottom of the cage expressly for his use.
Near the “_Paradise Bird_,” in another large cage, is the Superb Magpie,
having all the thievish propensities, with the usual saucy manner of the
tribe; its plumage is beautiful, the principal colour being in splendid
purple markings; the bill is of an orange colour; like dogs and children,
it seems fond of being noticed; it welcomes visitors by spreading its
long and elegant tail, as well as by raising and showing off its pretty
plumage to the best advantage, looking out sharply for insects, and,
at the same time, uttering a peculiar noise which somewhat resembles
that which is heard from a monkey in distress. When insects are given to
this bird, he is not so particular as his neighbour, but devours them
instantly entire, either dead or alive, looking immediately afterwards
for another supply. The food given to it is boiled rice, grasshoppers,
&c. Like others of its tribe, it is fond of pilfering and concealing
whatever is heedlessly left in its way, and it can carry off. To speak
phrenologically, its acquisitiveness is large, and conscientiousness
small.
Several beautiful Loris, from the islands of the eastern Archipelago,
clothed in brilliant and gaudy plumage, are in the collection. Among
these are the Amboyna and Ternate Loris, called Kustoree in the language
of the natives; the King parrot of New South Wales, (_Platycercus
scapulatus_,) and others of the parrot tribe from different parts of
the world. I observed an Indian ring-neck parroquet, with its breast,
for the whole extent, bare of feathers; (in which state it has been
for five years and upwards, and as the glands are destroyed they
cannot be renewed; the loss of plumage was attributed originally to
giving the creature salt meat;) its long tail is quite perfect. This
ridiculous-looking, half-fledged production of the parrot tribe, gets
upon and clings to the bars of its cage on any person approaching, and
commences to exercise all its power of language to amuse the visitor.
There are also some pretty _Minas_ from Cochin China, who imitate, in
their peculiar voice, not only all the sounds uttered by the birds around
them, but also the various cries of the Chinese, when vending their wares
about the streets; the imitation is strictly correct.
From the lower garden,—which is filled with choice flowering shrubs and
plants,—an ascent of a flight of steps brings the visitor to another
garden on a terrace, to which there is also an entrance from the upper
rooms of the dwelling-house: here the large and magnificent aviary is
situated. Both in external appearance, and internal arrangement, there is
a display of much taste and elegance, and every arrangement calculated
to ensure comfort to its numerous feathered inhabitants. The aviary is
forty feet in length by twenty in breadth, and probably thirty or forty
feet high; it is divided into two portions, having communications from
one to the other, usually left open, but capable of being closed, if
such a proceeding should be found necessary. It is situated on one side
of the house, the windows of which look through the lattice-work into
the aviary: the whole of the aviary, above and around, having a similar
lattice work of fine wire, surmounted by a dome at one part of the
summit. The whole construction displays much neatness and taste, as well
as being admirably calculated for the object in view; the wood-work,
between the wire-lattice, is very ornamental; the song of some of the
birds, with the bustle and twittering of others, as they hop about, or
take their flight from tree to tree, has a very animating and pleasing
effect from the sitting-rooms of the house.
In the aviary large trees and various shrubs are planted for the
convenience of the inhabitants: in the branches of the former, small
baskets, as nests, are placed for those birds whose habits cause them
to build in trees, and in those places many of the present inhabitants
of the aviary have been born and reared. Near a tank, constantly filled
with water, a quantity of artificial rock-work is constructed, forming
an ornament to the aviary as well as a place of utility for the birds of
that class who are accustomed to such situations when at liberty, and
who breed in the crevices; every precaution is likewise taken around the
aviary to prevent the ingress of rats, who, by getting in when it was
first constructed, caused much destruction among the feathered tribe.
It may certainly be said, that all the pets look full of life, and
happy and contented in their situation; they chirp, sing, wash, feed,
are merry, and, having abundance of room, their plumage looks healthy
and beautiful, so unlike the dirty ragged appearance they soon exhibit
when kept in a close, confined place, which, in a short period, brings
on disease, and eventually death. Here they can wash themselves every
morning, and they appear always eager to perform their matinal ablutions;
their unsullied plumage, the song or twitter of delight with which they
reward their benefactor, show how happy and contented they are in their
confinement.
In the aviary are separate cages, erected for the purpose of inclosing
such of the males of any of the species, as may have their combative
organs in too high a degree of excitement; the punishment for such
troublesome characters is, therefore, in the first place, solitary
confinement, and should they not be reformed under that treatment, they
are finally dismissed the aviary as incorrigibles.
It is delightful to visit the aviary at a very early hour in the morning,
when the whole of the inhabitants are in the greatest confusion, the
servants busily engaged in cleaning the habitation, and giving supplies
of food to the colony; the “plumy people” appear in the plenitude of
happiness, hopping from branch to branch, or running along the ground,
their little throats strain with harmony: the soft cooing of the numerous
pigeon tribe is heard as well as the quacking sounds of the duck tribe,
who are not gifted with any other more harmonious notes. It is at this
time that we can also observe the querulous disposition of these animals.
The males of one and the same kind, or of different species, endeavour
to grasp all the supplies for themselves, unmindful of the wants of
others, and will not permit their companions to perform their ablutions
without molestation, although they may have themselves completed what
they required. I often observed the mandarin ducks excite the drakes to
attack other males or females of the same species, as well as any other
kind of bird (not too powerful) in the aviary, against whom the lady
may have taken a dislike from some cause or causes unknown to us: there
always appears to be one pair, who exercise a tyranny over the others,
not permitting them to wash, eat, or drink, unless at the pleasure of
these little aristocrats.
As the shades of evening close in, the aviary is again in a bustle, the
birds setting themselves in their various roosting places for the night,
and keeping up a continual chattering, until the whole colony is buried
in silence and hidden in darkness. The Paradise Bird then sits tranquilly
upon his perch, and no more greets the stranger, but stares in stupid
amazement at the late visit. The cages of this, and the other birds in
the verandah, are very carefully covered up at night to protect them from
cats, or any other midnight prowlers.
It once happened, during a total eclipse of the sun, as that luminary
became overshadowed, the “feathered colony,” if not in a consternation at
the event, was exceedingly puzzled at the rapid and unusual termination
of the day, and all retired supperless to bed; they received, however, a
second surprise at the briefness of the night, for before they could be
well asleep, the cocks crowed at the reappearance of the luminary, and
they again resumed their daily amusements and occupations.