The Natural History of Cage Birds

Breeding. – Each nightingale has his little district; and if in the pairing season several males are found together, very angry battles take place, which end in the flight of the weakest. The commonest quarrels of this kind are between fathers and sons. The latter, having been born in the place, determine to fix themselves in it; all feeling of relationship is then extinguished, and they are strangers; the relations of father and son, those sweet ties, hitherto so close, are suddenly broken, never more to be felt.

The nest is built in a grove or orchard, among a heap of branches, or on a thorn bush, or the trunk of a tree surrounded by briars; or even on the ground when it may be hid by tall grass or thick bushes. Its form is simple and inartificial, on the outside dry leaves, on the inside hay, fine roots, with the hair of animals, is all the apparatus. The female lays from four to six eggs, of a brownish green, on which she sits a fortnight. The young are fed with small caterpillars and butterflies. As the low position of the nest exposes them to become the prey of carnivorous quadrupeds, they soon quit it, even before they can fly. Their plumage before moulting has no resemblance to that of the old birds except the red of the tail; the upper part of the body is of a reddish grey, spotted with yellowish white on the head and coverts of the wings; the under part is of a rusty yellow, spotted on the breast with dark brown; but after moulting the resemblance is so perfect that they can hardly be distinguished. If, therefore, any of these birds are caught towards the end of summer, they are carefully examined on the back of the head, round the eyes, and under the beak and neck, for, provided there remains in these places a small feather, or mere yellow point, it is sufficient to ascertain that they are young. As these are the only means of judging, if no marks appear, it is necessary to wait for a few days till the bird begins to sing. This, however, is not a sure sign, as the young females sing as well as the males, till the month of April, though in a weaker and more unconnected way, and without so visibly swelling their throats: it is by these nice observations that connoisseurs succeed in distinguishing them. It may also be remarked, as a help to those who wish to rear nightingales, that, when in the nest, those which are marked with white, and especially those which have a white throat, are males; the reddest and brownest being always females. The young, when taken, are fed with ants’ eggs mixed with white bread, grated and moistened. The males begin to warble even before their tails are quite grown: if the father and mother are taken at the same time as the young ones, they will, when caged, continue to feed them as before. It is said that nightingales sometimes build in the bird room; this, however, can only succeed by giving up to a tame healthy pair a whole room, in which a sort of grove should be formed of branches.

Diseases. – In general moulting amounts to a disease among nightingales: at this critical time they require a more succulent diet, and sometimes a spider by way of purgative. If their stomach is disordered they puff up their feathers, half shut their eyes, and remain for hours with their head under their wing. They are relieved and cured by ants’ eggs, some spiders, and by giving them occasionally water impregnated with saffron till it is of an orange colour, to drink.

As to those diseases which they have in common with other birds, they are treated according to the directions given in the Introduction. It is especially necessary, every three months, carefully to remove the large scales from their legs and toes. A nightingale may be kept in confinement fifteen years; whilst in a wild state they are never observed to exist so long in the same spot, which seems to prove that they do not attain so great an age when exposed to all sorts of accidents, both from birds of prey and bird-catchers. I have an instance of a nightingale which has lived twenty-five years in confinement. When they have reached six years they begin to sing less frequently and long, with less brilliancy and ornament; it is then better to set them at liberty in the month of May. The open air often invigorates them so much that they regain their song in all its force and beauty.

Mode of Taking. – Nothing is easier than to catch a nightingale in the season of pairing. If a little furrow, smooth at the bottom, is dug in a dark soil, and some meal worms or ants’ eggs are thrown into it, he will immediately fly to these delicacies. By putting also in the same place limed twigs, or a small net which may be easily dropped, he will soon be caught; it is even sufficient to fix over the furrow a bit of wood supported by a stick, which will fall as soon as the bird perches upon it. He is so unsuspicious that he observes the snare being laid, and then foolishly falls into it, when the bird-catcher has moved only a few steps from it; he will even allow himself to be led to it when at a little distance, if in a gentle manner. A bird-catcher may thus, in a few hours, depopulate a whole district of these delightful songsters. If, however, this is feared, there is a means of baffling his intentions, by anticipating him, and catching the nightingale we wish to preserve in our neighbourhood, either by a limed twig or in a net, and letting him go again. This experiment will prevent his falling so readily into the snare in future. In the greater part of Germany, indeed, it is forbidden, under a very heavy penalty, to catch nightingales. Another mode of taking them is by nooses and springes, and suspending for a bait, instead of berries, live meal-worms; but there is one disadvantage attending it, while struggling the bird almost always injures his feet, especially in springes.

Attractive Qualities. – The first good quality of a nightingale is undoubtedly its fine voice, and notes which I shall endeavour to describe. The nightingale expresses his different emotions by suitable and particular tones. The most unmeaning cry when he is alone appears to be a simple whistle fitt, but if the syllable crr is added, it is then the call of the male to the female. The sign of displeasure or fear is fitt repeated rapidly and loudly before adding the terminating crr; whilst that of satisfaction and pleasure such, for example, as conjugal endearments, or on the occasion of finding a delicate morsel, is a deep tack, which may be imitated by smacking the tongue.

In anger, jealousy, rivalry, or any extraordinary event, he utters hoarse disagreeable sounds, somewhat like a jay or a cat. Lastly, in the season of pairing, when the male and female entice and pursue each other, from the top of a tree to its base, and thence again to the top, a gentle subdued warbling is all that is heard.

Nature has granted these tones to both sexes; but the male is particularly endowed with so very striking a musical talent, that in this respect he surpasses all birds, and has acquired the name of the king of songsters. The strength of his vocal organ is indeed wonderful; and it has been found that the muscles of his larynx are much more powerful than those of any other bird. But it is less the strength than the compass, flexibility, prodigious variety, and harmony of his voice which make it so admired by all lovers of the beautiful. Sometimes dwelling for minutes on a strain composed of only two or three melancholy tones, he begins in an under voice, and swelling it gradually by the most superb crescendo to the highest point of strength, he ends it by a dying cadence; or it consists of a rapid succession of more brilliant sounds, terminated, like many other strains of his song, by some detached ascending notes. Twenty-four different strains or couplets may be reckoned in the song of a fine nightingale, without including its delicate little variations; for among these, as among other musicians, there are some great performers and many middling ones. This song is so articulate, so speaking, that it may be very well written. The following is a trial which I have made on that of a nightingale in my neighbourhood, which passes for a very capital singer77: —

Tioû, tioû, tioû, tioû.Spe, tiou, squa.Tiô, tiô, tiô, tiô, tio, tio, tio, tix.Coutio, coutio, coutio, coutio.Squô, squô, squô, squô.Tzu, tzu, tzu, tzu, tzu, tzu, tzu, tzu, tzu, tzi.Corror, tiou, squa, pipiqui.Zozozozozozozozozozozozo, zirrhading!Tsissisi, tsissisisisisisisis.Dzorre, dzorre, dzorre, dzorre, hi.Tzatu, tzatu, tzatu, tzatu, tzatu, tzatu, tzatu, dzi.Dlo, dlo, dlo, dlo, dlo, dlo, dlo, dlo, dlo.Quio, tr rrrrrrrr itz.Lu, lu, lu, lu, ly, ly, ly, ly, liê, liê, liê, liê 78.Quio, didl li lulylie.Hagurr, gurr quipio!Coui, coui, coui, coui, qui, qui, qui, qui, gai, gui, gui, gui 79Goll goll goll goll guia hadadoi.Couigui, horr, ha diadia dill si!Hezezezezezezezezezezezezezezezeze couar ho dze hoi.Quia, quia, quia, quia, quia, quia, quia, quia, ti.Ki, ki, ki, ïo, ïo, ïo, ioioioio ki.Lu ly li le lai la leu lo, didl ïo quia.Kigaigaigaigaigaigaigai guiagaigaigai couior dzio dzio pi. 80

If we could understand the sense of these words, we should doubtless discover the expression of the sensations of this delightful songster. It is true that the nightingales of all countries, the south as well as the north, appear to sing in the same manner; there is, however, as has been already observed, so great a difference in the degree of perfection, that we cannot help acknowledging that one has a great superiority over another. On points of beauty, however, where the senses are the judges, each has his peculiar taste. If one nightingale has the talent of dwelling agreeably on his notes, another utters his with peculiar brilliancy, a third lengthens out his strain in a particular manner, and a fourth excels in the silveriness of his voice. All four may excel in their style, and each will find his admirer; and, truly, it is very difficult to decide which merits the palm of victory. There are, however, individuals so very superior as to unite all the beauties of power and melody; these are generally birds of the first breed, which, having been hatched with the necessary powers, in a district well peopled with nightingales, appropriate what is most striking in the song of each, whence results this perfect compound, so worthy of our admiration. As the return of the males in spring always precedes that of the females by seven or eight days, they are constantly heard to sing before and after midnight, in order to attract their companions on their journey during the fine nights. If their wishes are accomplished they then keep silence during the night, and salute the dawn with their first accents, which are continued through the day. Some persist in their first season in singing before and after midnight, whence they have obtained the name of nocturnal nightingales; but they cannot be distinguished till after some time, when they are established in their district, and have the society of their females. After repeated experiments for many successive years, I think I am authorised in affirming that the nocturnal and diurnal nightingales form distinct varieties, which propagate regularly: for if a young bird is taken from the nest of a night singer, he, in his turn, will sing at the same hours as his father, not the first year, but certainly in the following81; while, on the other hand, the young of a day nightingale will never sing in the night, even when it is surrounded by nocturnal nightingales. I have also remarked that the night singers prefer mountainous countries, and even mountains themselves, whilst the others prefer plains, valleys, and the neighbourhood of water. I will also venture to affirm that all the night singers found in the plains have strayed from the mountains; thus in my neighbourhood, inclosed in the first chains of the mountains of Thuringia, we hear only night singers, and in the plains of Gotha they know only the day nightingale.

It is a pity that the time for this delightful bird’s song should be so short, that is to say, when wild. It endures hardly three months; and during this short interval it is not maintained with equal power. At its first arrival it is the most beautiful, continued, and impassioned; when the young are hatched, it becomes more rare; the attentions which they require occupying considerable time. If from time to time the nightingale’e song is heard, it is evident that the fire which animated it is much weakened. After midsummer all is ended, nothing is heard but the warbling of the young, which seem to study their father’s song, and try to imitate it. The nightingale sings much longer in confinement: birds which are caught full grown sometimes sing from November to Easter; those which are bred from the nest sing much longer, sometimes as long as seven months; but in order that they may sing well they must be put under the instruction of an old nightingale which is a good singer, otherwise they will be only stammerers, mutilating their natural song, and inserting in a confused manner tones and passages which they have caught from other birds. If, however, they have a good instructor, and a good memory, they imitate perfectly, and often add to their instructor’s song some beauties of their own, as is usual among young birds82.

I cannot help here mentioning the cruel and disgusting selfishness of some men, who, in order a little to prolong the song of this interesting bird, sacrifice to their transient gratification its eyes, by blinding it, as is done to the lark and the chaffinch.

It is said that a nightingale and a female red-breast running free in the room will sometimes pair, and produce mules, but I have no experience on this subject.

I cannot better complete my account of the nightingale’s song than by transcribing the delightful, though somewhat exaggerated picture, which has been given of it by Buffon. “There is no well organised man,” says he, “to whom the name of the nightingale does not recall some one of those fine nights in spring, when the sky being clear, the air calm, all nature silent, and as it were attentive, he has listened with delight to the song of this chorister of the woods. Several singing birds may be named whose voices in some respects may compete with that of the nightingale; the lark, the canary, the greenfinch, the blackcap, the linnet, the goldfinch, the common blackbird, the solitary thrush, the American mocking-bird, are all listened to with pleasure when the nightingale is silent: some have fine tones, others have their voice as clear as it is soft, others have as fine flourishes, but there is not one which the nightingale does not surpass in the complete union of all these different talents, and in the prodigious variety of his songs; so that the song of each of the above-named birds is, when taken in its whole extent, only one couplet of that of the nightingale. The nightingale always charms, and never copies himself servilely; if he repeats any passage it is animated with a new accent, embellished by new ornaments. He succeeds in all styles, he renders all expressions, he seizes all characters, and he also augments their effect by contrast. If this Coryphæus of the spring prepares to sing a hymn to nature, he begins by a timid prelude, by faint uncertain sounds, as if he would try his instrument and interest his audience; then gaining courage he becomes gradually animated, warmed, and he soon displays in their plenitude all the resources of his incomparable organ, brilliant bursts, lively delicate trills, volleys of notes whose distinctness equals their volubility; an internal dull murmur, not itself pleasing to the ear, but very fit to enhance the brilliancy of the agreeable strains, sudden, brilliant, and rapid runs, articulated with strength, and even a tasteful ruggedness, plaintive accents, tender cadences; sounds dwelt on without art, but swelling with sentiment; enchantingly penetrating notes, the true sighs of voluptuousness and love, which seem to come from the heart, and make all hearts palpitate; which produce in all who are not insensible a delightful emotion, a touching languor. In those impassioned tones are recognised the language of sentiment which a happy husband addresses to his beloved partner, and which she alone can inspire; while in other strains, more surprising perhaps, but less expressive, are discovered the simple wish of amusing and pleasing her, or of disputing before her the prize of singing with rivals jealous of his glory and happiness.

“These different strains are interspersed with pauses which in all styles of melody concur in producing great effects. We dwell on the beautiful notes we have just heard, and which still resound in our ears; we enjoy them the more because the pleasure is more limited, more exclusive, and undisturbed by new sensations. Soon we expect, we desire another strain; we hope it may be pleasing; if we are mistaken, the beauty of what we hear will not leave us room to regret that which is only delayed, and the interest of hope is maintained for the strains which will follow. One of the reasons why the song of the nightingale is so striking, and produces so much effect, is, as Mr. Barington has well said, because he sings in the night, which is the most favourable time, and he sings alone, whereby his voice is heard in all its splendour, and is undisturbed by any other voice. He eclipses all other birds, adds Mr. Barington, by his soft flute-like tones, and by the uninterrupted duration of his warble, which lasts sometimes for twenty seconds. The same observer reckoned in this warble sixteen different strains, well marked by their first and last notes, the intermediate notes being tastefully varied by the bird; and he ascertained that the space filled by the nightingale’s voice is no less than an English mile in diameter, especially when the air is calm: this equals the compass of the human voice.

“It is surprising that so small a bird, which weighs only half an ounce, should have such force in the vocal organs. Mr. Hunter has observed that the muscles of the larynx, or gullet, are stronger in proportion, in this species, than in any other, and also stronger in the male which sings, than in the female which does not sing.

“Aristotle, and Pliny after him, say, that the song of the nightingale lasts in all its strength for fifteen days and fifteen nights uninterruptedly, at the time that the trees are putting forth their leaves; this can refer only to wild nightingales, and must not be taken literally; for these birds are not silent either before or after the period fixed by Aristotle. It is true they do not continue to sing with so much ardour and constancy. They generally begin in the month of April, and do not completely end till the month of June, about the time of the solstice; but the time when their song diminishes most, is when the young are hatched, because they are then occupied in feeding them, and in the order of instincts, that which tends to the preservation of the species is pre-eminent. Captive nightingales continue to sing for nine or ten months, and their song is sustained not only for a longer time, but it is more perfect and studied. Hence Mr. Barington infers, that in this species, and in many others, the male does not sing to amuse the female, and enliven her fatigue when sitting; which appears a very just and probable inference. Indeed, the female when she sits performs her office from an instinct, or rather a passion, stronger in her than even the passion of love; she finds in it an internal satisfaction of which we can form no idea, but which she appears to feel sensibly, and we cannot therefore suppose that at such moments she is in any want of consolation. Since then it is neither from duty nor virtue that the female sits, neither is it on that account that the male sings: indeed he does not sing during the second incubation. It is love, and especially the first season of love, which inspires the song of the bird; it is in spring that they experience the want both to love and to sing; it is the males which have most desire, and it is they who sing the most. They continue to sing during the greater part of the year if we preserve around them a perpetual spring, which incessantly renews their ardour, without affording an occasion for extinguishing it; this happens to caged nightingales, and even, as it has been already mentioned, to those which have been taken full grown. Some have been known to begin to sing with all their strength a few hours after being caught. They must, however, have been insensible of their loss of liberty at first. They would starve the first seven or eight days if they were not fed, and would injure their heads against the top of the cage if their wings were not tied; but at last the passion for singing prevails, because it is produced by a still deeper passion.

“The songs of other birds, the sounds of instruments, the tones of a sweet sonorous voice, excite them much. They run, they approach, attracted by the sweet sounds; but duets attract them still more powerfully, which would seem to prove that they are sensible to the effects of harmony. They do not continue silent auditors, they join the performance, and use all their efforts to eclipse their rivals, to surpass all the other voices, and even all other sounds. It is said that they have been known to drop down dead at the feet of a person singing. Another has been seen fluttering, swelling his throat, and uttering an angry warble every time a canary which was near him, began to sing; he succeeded by his threats in imposing silence, so true is it, that superiority is not always free from jealousy. Can it be in consequence of the passion for pre-eminence, that these birds are so careful to seize every advantage, and that they prefer singing in a place favourable to sound, or within reach of an echo?

“All nightingales do not sing equally well. Some are so very inferior as not to be worth keeping. It has even been thought that the song of the nightingale is different in different countries. In England, those who are curious respecting these birds, prefer, it is said, those of the county of Surrey, to those of Middlesex; as they prefer the greenfinch of Essex, and the goldfinch of Kent. This diversity of song among birds of the same species has very rationally been compared to the different dialects of the same language. The true causes can hardly be assigned, as they are for the most part accidental. A nightingale may perhaps have heard other singing birds, or emulation may have caused him to perfect his song, which he thus transmits improved to his descendants, for every father is the singing master of his family; and it is easy to perceive that in succeeding generations the song may be still further improved or modified by similar accidents.

“After the month of June, the nightingale sings no more, and he retains only a hoarse cry, a sort of croaking, by which the melodious Philomel cannot be recognised, and it is not surprising that formerly, in Italy, they gave him a different name under these circumstances. He is indeed another bird, a bird altogether different in respect of voice, and even, in a great degree, in respect of the colour of his plumage.

“Among nightingales, as well as other species, some females are found participating in the constitution of the male, his habits, and especially in his musical powers. I have seen, in confinement, one of these female singers. Her warble resembled that of the male, but was neither so strong nor so varied. She preserved it till spring; but then subduing the exercise of her talent to the natural duties of her sex, she became silent, in order to build her nest, and to lay, though she was solitary. It appears that, in warm countries, such as Greece, it is very common to see these female singers, and respecting this species and many others we may draw the same inference from a passage of Aristotle. One would hardly imagine that so varied a song as that of the nightingale is confined within a single octave; this is, however, the result of the attentive observations of a man of taste (M. le docteur Remond). He remarked, indeed, some sharp tones which formed the double octave, and which were emitted like lightning; but this happens rarely, and when the bird by a powerful effort of the gullet raises his voice to the octave.

“The same observer discovered shakes on the third, fourth, and octave, but always from sharp to flat; cadences, generally in the minor, on almost every note; but no arpeggios, no coherent design.”