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 following[81]; 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 impa.s.sioned; when the young are hatched, it becomes more rare; the attentions which they require occupying considerable time. If from time to time the nightingale's 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 pa.s.sages 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 birds[82].

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 surpa.s.s 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 pa.s.sage 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 Coryphaeus 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 impa.s.sioned 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 s.p.a.ce filled by the nightingale's voice is no less than an English mile in diameter, especially when the air is calm: this equals the compa.s.s 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 pa.s.sion, stronger in her than even the pa.s.sion 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 pa.s.sion for singing prevails, because it is produced by a still deeper pa.s.sion.

"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 surpa.s.s 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 pa.s.sion 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 Middles.e.x; as they prefer the greenfinch of Ess.e.x, 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 a.s.signed, 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 hoa.r.s.e 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 circ.u.mstances. 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 partic.i.p.ating in the const.i.tution 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 s.e.x, 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 pa.s.sage 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."

Independent of these talents, the nightingale possesses a quality very likely to augment the number of his friends; he is capable, after some time, of forming attachments. When once he has made acquaintance with the person who takes care of him, he distinguishes his step before seeing him; he welcomes him by a cry of joy; and, during the moulting season, he is seen making vain efforts to sing, and supplying by the gaiety of his movements, and the expression of his looks, the demonstrations of joy which his throat refuses to utter. When he loses his benefactor, he sometimes pines to death; if he survives it is long before he is accustomed to another[83]. His attachments are long, because they are not hasty, as is the case with all wild and timid dispositions.

THE GREATER NIGHTINGALE.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Motacilla Luscinia major, LINNaeUS; Le Grand Rossignol, ou La Progne[84], BUFFON; Der Sprosser, BECHSTEIN.

Naturalists make this bird only a variety, or at most, only a species of the common nightingale; but I find points of difference so numerous and so striking, that I think it right to make it a distinct species. 1. It is larger by an inch and a half in length, being six inches and a half, of which the tail, also half an inch longer, occupies two and three-quarters; 2. The head is larger, and the beak is thicker; 3. The colours are different; 4. The song is different. With respect to gait, manner, habits, and the like, it is true there is a resemblance, which exists, however, only in common with the white-throats, and the blackcap, which have never been considered as varieties of the nightingale.

The upper part of the body is a dusky brownish grey; the throat is white bordered with black; the breast is brown, with darker spots; the belly dirty white; the wings are deep brown, edged with dirty red; the tail and its upper large coverts dirty maroon, deeper than in the common nightingale; the whole plumage, in short, is generally and in all parts deeper and darker.

OBSERVATIONS.--The difference in the song is very remarkable. The greater nightingale has a much stronger, louder, and deeper voice; but it sings more slowly and more unconnectedly; it has not that astonishing variety, those charming protractions, and harmonious conclusions of the common nightingale; it mutilates all the strains; and, on this account, its song has been compared to the missel-thrush, to which, however, it is superior in softness and pureness. The common nightingale is superior in delicacy and variety, but inferior in force and brilliancy. The greater nightingale sings generally in the night, so that it is the real night-singer; while among nightingales this is rather uncommon. Its voice is so loud that it is almost impossible to bear it in a room. It is necessary to keep it always outside the window, either by hanging its cage there, or by opening from it a sort of pa.s.sage into which it can remove.

Its call is also very different; _hi! glack arrr!_ It seems also to p.r.o.nounce _David, Jacob_, and generally begins its song by the latter word. If the song is complete, it consists of the following strains:--

_Guia, gu, gu, gu.

Hajai, hajai, dzu, dzu, dzu, dzu.

Gorgue, gueguegueguegueh, Hoa goigoigoi gui.

Dzicka, dzicka, dzicka.

Davitt, davitt, davitt.

Gogock, gogock.

Guedum, guedum, guedum, guedum, gue!

Gai, goi, goi, goi, guirrrr.

Golka, golka, golka, golk.

Hia, guiaguiaguiaguia.

Glockglockglockglockglockglock.

Gueai, gueaigueai gui!

Goi, guaguaguagua guagui.

Heid, heid, heid, heid hi.

Voi dada! voi dada!

Gai, gai, gai, gai, guirr, guirr.

Hoi, gueguegue gui.

Hoi goi._

This bird is not found in any part of Thuringia. There are some in Silesia, Bohemia, Pomerania, near Wittenberg, Halle, and Dessau; but in Austria, Hungary, and Poland, they are in some districts more abundant than the common nightingale[85]. They generally settle among the bushes of the hills and plains, and especially near rivers. When caged they are fed like nightingales. They are less delicate, however, and live much longer.

They are chiefly brought from Vienna to Thuringia, whence they have the name of Vienna Nightingales. Some people make a business of fetching them from Hungary, in the beginning of April, where they buy them cheap, in order to sell them very dear, in Saxony and other remote provinces. Those from Hungary are preferred to the Polish. A distinguishing characteristic is, that they first p.r.o.nounce the _davitt_ or _jacob_ only once when they call; while the second repeat _davitt_ many times in succession.

At Thorn, and all along the Vistula, where the common and the large nightingale equally abound, the latter is called the Polish Nightingale, and the former, the Nightingale of Saxony. The nest of the greater nightingale is built like that of the nightingale; but the eggs are larger, and of an olive brown, with dark shades.

These birds are caught like nightingales; their diseases, also, are similar; but they appear to suffer still more when moulting; they become dull and ill, and often die under it. It is usual to give them at this crisis some spiders, and the grubs which gnaw wood; what, however, after many experiments, appears most salutary, is the Golden Tincture of Halle[86], one or two drops of which are poured into the drinking-trough.

THE BLACKCAP.

Sylvia atricapilla, BECHSTEIN; La Fauvette a tete noire, BUFFON; Die schwarzkopfige Grasmucke, BECHSTEIN.

This distinguished singer among birds, bears, in Germany, the name of _Monk_, or _Moor_, from the black or brown cap which covers the top of his head. These two colours have led some to divide them into two species, but it is quite certain that they only designate the s.e.x; the black marking the male, and the brown the female. Its length is five inches and five-sixths, two and a half of which belong to the tail. The beak is five lines in length, formed like that of the nightingale, and is of a brownish blue, with the edges of the lower base and the interior of a yellowish white; the iris maroon; the feet ten lines high, are dark ash-colour; all the top of the head is black; the cheeks and upper part of the neck are light ash-colour; the upper part of the body, as well as the coverts of the wings, ash-colour, tending to olive; the under part of the body is light grey, fading to white under the belly and breast; the sides and thighs are the same colour as the back; the under coverts of the tail and wings are speckled gray and white; the pen-feathers and tail-feathers are dark brown, edged with the colour of the back.

The female is rather larger; her cap is reddish brown; the upper part of her body reddish grey, tending to olive; the cheeks and throat are light grey; the breast, the sides, and the thighs, are light grey, varying to light olive; the belly is reddish white.

The silky plumage of this bird is so delicate and frail, that it is rare to see one in confinement, whether hopping freely, or caged, which has not its tail or its wings disfigured.

HABITATION.--When wild, this bird is found throughout Europe, inhabiting woods and orchards, or their vicinity; it particularly loves thick copse-wood. In September it leaves our climate, and returns about the middle of April, to enliven our woods by its brilliant and well supported song.

In confinement, when it is allowed to hop about, it is provided with a branch, or a roost furnished with several sticks, because it walks with difficulty, and prefers perching, on which account a cage is better adapted to it. At the time for departure, these birds, urged by the instinct to travel, are much agitated, especially in the night, by moonlight. The desire to rove is so strong, that they often fall ill and die.

FOOD.--When wild, the blackcap feeds on small caterpillars, b.u.t.terflies, flies, in short, of all kinds, on insects and their grubs; in time of need, on berries and fruits also[87].

In confinement this bird does very well on the universal paste, with which a little bruised hemp seed is mixed, and occasionally meal worms, ants' eggs, or insects. In summer and autumn he is supplied with elderberries, and they are also dried, in order that he may have some in winter, soaked in water, which is found very good for his health. He is a great eater, and when at liberty in the bird room partakes of everything, meat, bread, and even vegetables. As he is generally caught in the autumn he is soon accustomed to artificial food, by having elderberries and meal worms mixed with it for several successive days. He is fond of bathing, and must be always well supplied with fresh water.

BREEDING.--This species generally lays but once a year, occasionally twice, and even thrice. His nest, placed near the ground, generally in a hedge or bush of white-thorn, is hemispherical, solid, and well built; the outside of stalks, deserted coc.o.o.ns, and stubble, the inside of fine soft hay, mixed with hair. It contains from four to six eggs, of a yellowish white mottled with yellow and spotted with brown. The young are fed with small caterpillars, insects, and currants; those which are brought up by hand are fed with white bread and milk. The charming tone of their voice gives to their own song, as well as to that of the nightingale and canary, which they easily learn to imitate, a sweetness and grace which are enchanting. Before moulting there is so little difference between the young males and females that it requires great skill to distinguish them, for the cap of the former is only a slight shade darker of olive brown, and the back a greyish brown, rather more tinted with olive; but on the first moulting the head of the male begins to blacken first behind the beak, while that of the female retains its original colour, except that it becomes more bright and distinct. When it is wished to ascertain the s.e.x of these young birds, the best plan is to pull out a few brown feathers from the head; if it is a male, black ones will come up in their place, and thus there will be no danger of taking females by mistake; these, however, would soon be known, because the males begin to warble as soon as they are able to fly and feed themselves.

DISEASES.--The blackcap is subject to the same diseases as the nightingale, but is more frequently attacked by decline. As soon as the symptoms appear he must be fed with a great many meal worms and ants' eggs, and his drinking water must be impregnated with iron, by putting a nail into it. Those which are left to run about the room are apt to lose their feathers. Under such circ.u.mstances they must be caged, and exposed to the warmth of the sun or the fire; they must be well fed, especially with the food given to nightingales; these methods generally restore them, and their feathers are gradually renewed. A tepid bath, repeated for two or three days, is very likely to help their development. In epileptic or paralytic attacks I make them swallow, with great success, two or three drops of olive oil; I lately had the pleasure of seeing the success of this remedy on a bird of this species suffering from an apoplectic fit, and which dragged his little paralysed foot about the room where he lived uncaged; he is now quite recovered, very gay, and active; his song was never before so delightful to me. These birds generally live in captivity as long as nightingales.

MODES OF TAKING.--Every taste but that of the palate must be destroyed if this charming bird is caught for the table. Besides, it is by no means numerous; but if it is desired as an ornament to the house, snares baited with currants must be laid for it in July and August, the greatest care being taken to save the feet, which are very likely to be broken. Patience is very necessary in order to succeed, for it is a very suspicious bird, approaching slowly, and falling into the snare only when pressed by hunger. The same suspicious disposition causes it to repair with repugnance to the water trap, though in other situations it delights in water, and often bathes. If it perceives anything unusual it will remain for hours without approaching, and will pa.s.s twenty times by currants which are hung up as a bait without touching them, though very greedy of this food; but if it sees another bird bathe, or drink, it takes courage, and soon falls into the trap. The young, before moulting, still foolish and inexperienced, are more careless, and may be taken in great numbers in autumn; and in the spring they are as easy to catch as the nightingale, by means of a net or limed twigs, in a place cleared from moss and turf, and baited with meal worms and ants' eggs.

ATTRACTIVE QUALITIES.--It is perhaps a sufficient eulogium to say that this bird rivals the nightingale, and many persons even give it the preference. If it has less volume, strength, and expression, it is more pure, easy, and flute-like in its tones, and its song is perhaps more varied, smooth, and delicate. It sings also for a much longer period, both when wild and in confinement, its song being hardly suspended throughout the year by day, and prolonged, like that of the nightingale, far into the night, though begun at dawn. The female sings also, but in a more limited degree, very much like the red-breast, which has caused it to be mistaken for a particular species with a redcap. The call is a sort of smart "_tack_," repeated quickly several times. The sudden view of an unknown object, or of an imminent danger, makes it utter a hoa.r.s.e disagreeable cry of fear, very like a cat when hurt[88].