The Blackcap (Sylvia atricapilla) is the earliest of the genus to make his appearance, and seems to be hardier also than any of his congeners. Many instances are on record of Blackcaps having remained in this country throughout the winter, and this has been noticed as particularly the case in Ireland. It is rather singular that Mr. Yarrell, in referring to the sister isle, says that the Blackcap “has been taken, once at least, in the north of Ireland,” as if he were of opinion that its occurrence there were doubtful, or at least extremely rare. Mr. Thompson, in his excellent “Natural History of Ireland” (vol. i. p. 183), notices the Blackcap as a regular summer visitant there; but he adds that it must be considered very local. In Scotland it is considered rare, being confined chiefly to the south; but since the observations were published from which these remarks are drawn, considerable changes seem to have taken place in the local distribution of many species of birds. This is notably the case with the Blackcap and Garden Warbler, both of which have followed cultivation, and now are found commonly in localities where twenty years ago they were either unknown or stated to be extremely rare.
The Blackcap, like the Nightingale, appears to migrate almost due north and south, and ranges from Lapland to the Cape. It is resident in Madeira, the Azores, and the Canaries, and is also found throughout the year in Northern Africa and Southern Italy. In the fine collection of African birds (Passeres and Picariæ) belonging to Mr. R. B. Sharpe, I have seen a specimen of the Blackcap from Senegal. In Spain and Portugal it is found only on the migration in spring and autumn. Mr. Godman, in his interesting work on the “Natural History of the Azores,” has described a curious variety of the Blackcap which is found in these islands, “having the black marking on the head extending to the shoulders and round under the throat,” and he was informed that individuals were sometimes found with “the whole of the under parts of the body black.” This variety appears to have been met with also in Madeira, from whence it was described by Heineken (“Zool. Journ.,” v. p. 75). A figure of it will be found in Jardine and Selby’s “Illustrations of Ornithology,” pl. 94.
However much observers may be deceived by song, there is no mistaking either sex of the Blackcap as soon as the bird comes in view. The black crown of the male and the brown crown of the female suffice to distinguish the species amongst every other of our summer migrants. There is something very peculiar, too, about the half-hopping, half-creeping motions of all the Fruit-eating Warblers, which distinguishes them at once from other small birds frequenting the same haunts.
The males invariably arrive some days before the females; but both sexes seem to leave the country much about the same time—that is, early in September.
The nests of all the species in the genus Sylvia, as compared with those of the finches and linnets, are slovenly and loosely-made structures; and that of the Blackcap is no exception to the rule. The birds take some pains, however, to conceal it, and both male and female bestow a good deal of trouble upon it. It is generally placed a few feet from the ground, and is composed of dry bents, and lined with horsehair. The eggs, usually five in number, are white clouded with pale brown, and sparsely spotted with black towards the larger end. They closely resemble the eggs of the Garden Warbler, but differ in being smaller, and as a rule of a warmer tint; the pink or reddish-brown colour with which the eggs of the Blackcap are often suffused is not found in those of its congener. Both sexes take their turn at incubation, relieving one another to feed; but the male will often feed his partner on the nest, and then sit and sing to her. As to the song, it is simply delightful. I refrain, however, from attempting a description, for two reasons. The attempt has been made very often, and mere verbiage can convey but a very faint notion of its nature. It must be heard to be appreciated. If I were asked the question, “How am I to know the song when I hear it?” I would reply, “Approach the bird as slowly and as noiselessly as possible, until you can see the individual singing.” This is the only way to learn the songs of birds. The note of each species then becomes impressed upon the memory, and can afterwards be detected without hesitation when the bird is not in sight. To acquire this knowledge, however, of the songs of birds, one thing is necessary—an ear for music. This, unfortunately, cannot be imparted by teaching; and unless it exist as a gift of nature, the delight of music can never be experienced. There is this consolation, however, for those who are not musicians—they cannot feel so much the loss of a pleasure which they have never experienced.
THE ORPHEAN WARBLER.
(Sylvia orphea.)
The Orphean Warbler, as its name implies, is another noted song bird; but, though not uncommon in some parts of Europe and Asia, its claim to be included amongst our British warblers rests on very slender grounds. So long ago as July, 1848, a pair of this species were observed in a small plantation near Wetherby, and the hen bird was shot and forwarded to Sir William Milner, who informed Mr. Yarrell of the fact. On this single instance it was included by the last-named naturalist in his “History of British Birds.” Since the last edition of that work was published (1856), there is reason to believe that the Orphean Warbler has occurred again at least on two occasions in England. In June, 1866, the late Sergeant-Major Hanley, of the 1st Life Guards, well known as a bird fancier, purchased a young warbler, which had been chased and caught by a boy near Holloway. Mr. Blyth, who saw it in the following December, pronounced it to be without doubt a female Orphean Warbler. As the bird when caught was unable to fly, it is evident that a pair must have nested in the neighbourhood. I have seen a nest and eggs which were taken in Notton Wood, near Wakefield, in June, 1864, which certainly appertained to none of our common warblers, and the eggs could not be distinguished from well-authenticated eggs of Sylvia orphea.[14] Mr. Howard Saunders has reported a similar nest and eggs from East Grinstead. The eggs differ from those of the Blackcap and Garden Warbler in being white, spotted, chiefly at the larger end, with ash-grey. The bird may be briefly described as a large form of the Blackcap, exceeding it by half an inch in total length, and by a quarter of an inch in length of wing, the male having the black crown which characterizes our well-known songster, and resembling it generally in appearance. It differs, however, in having the bill shining black instead of horn colour, the under parts white instead of grey, the legs brown instead of slate colour, and the outer tail feathers margined with white instead of being uniformly grey. In habits and mode of life it assimilates, as might be expected, very much to the species with which we are so familiar. Those who have seen the nest, state that it is large for the size of the bird—a loose and open structure, rather shallow, and generally placed in a low bush near the ground. Mr. Yarrell has given very scanty information about this species, particularly as regards its geographical distribution, from which it might be inferred that very little is known of it. This, however, is not the case.
While the Blackcap migrates almost due north and south, the Orphean Warbler migrates westwards and northwards from the east and southeast, and vice versâ. In North-west India, particularly in the neighbourhood of Umballah, it is tolerably common. The Rev. Canon Tristram found it numerous in Palestine, and especially abundant under Mount Hermon. Messrs. Elwes and Buckley include it in their list of the birds of Turkey (“Ibis,” 1870, p. 19), and Lord Lilford has noted its occasional occurrence in spring in the Ionian Isles. Rüppell includes it amongst the birds of Arabia and Egypt,[15] but either it is not very common in Egypt, or it has escaped the searching eyes of many English ornithologists in that country. Mr. O. Salvin found it tolerably common in the Eastern Atlas, and it has also been met with in Tripoli (cf. Chambers, “Ibis,” 1867, p. 104). As it is thus found in North Africa, and, according to Professor Savi, is a summer visitant to Italy, one would naturally expect to find it in Malta; but Mr. C. A. Wright, who has paid great attention to Maltese ornithology for many years, states that he has never met with it himself, and that only one instance of its occurrence in Malta is known to him. In Spain it has been observed as a summer visitant both by Lord Lilford and Mr. Howard Saunders. The last-named naturalist says (“Ibis,” 1871, p. 212) that it nests there in May, and refers to the frequent inequality in the size of eggs in the same nest—a peculiarity which does not seem to have been previously noticed. In Portugal it appears to be only an occasional summer visitant, apparently not straying so far westward as a rule. I am not aware that it has been found further to the south-west than Morocco. Mr. Tyrwhitt Drake met with it in this country in 1867, but considered it rare.
According to the observations of Von der Mühle, in his “Monograph of the European Sylviidæ,” and of Captain Beavan on various birds in India (“Ibis,” 1868, pp. 73, 74), there is good reason to believe that both the Blackcap and the Orphean Warbler completely lose the black crown in winter, and reassume it at the approach of the breeding season.
Criticizing these remarks, however, the late Mr. Blyth wrote:—