This bird, whose plumage is very ordinary, is scarcely five inches long, two and a half of which belong to the tail. But, in confinement, when it is well fed, and especially when it has been bred from the nest, it is commonly larger, reaching sometimes the size of a lark. The straight beak is seven lines in length, thin, with the two mandibles of nearly the same size, and dark brown above, light gray below, flesh-coloured at the base, and yellow within; the iris is brownish grey. The shanks, three quarters of an inch high, are flesh-coloured; the upper part of the body is brownish gray, tinted with rust-red, and in very old birds is reddish ash-coloured.
Among individuals in confinement, some are lighter, others darker. When placed in the windows of a large well-lighted room, which is not exposed to smoke, they are in the upper parts dark gray, or light brownish gray, and the feathers have a reddish edge; below they are white, and grayish on the sides. But those which are shut up in small ill-lighted rooms, subject to smoke, soon lose their colours, the upper part of the body becoming dingy red, the under part grayish white, and the sides brownish gray.
Those accustomed to birds distinguish the female at a glance. Her shanks are not so high: she is not so erect; her head is not so long and pointed, but rounder; her neck is shorter, and more inclined back; her eye is smaller and less lively; and her throat is not so white. Notwithstanding these characteristics, no other than an experienced person could decide the sex unless he had them both before him.
Nightingales so strongly resemble the female redstart, that the latter is often caught and sold for a nightingale, while the nightingale in its turn is killed and eaten for a redstart. To avoid mistakes, we must observe the following particulars:—The female redstart is always smaller, and her plumage darker: her small feet and beak are blackish; the red of her tail is lighter, and the two middle feathers are blackish, or very dark brown; this long slender tail is in continual motion, while the nightingale moves his only at intervals, for example, when he has hopped a few steps, and he generally carries it raised higher than the point of his wings. His step and attitude are prouder, and his actions seem more deliberate. When he walks, it is by measured regular hops. After a certain number he stops, looks at himself, shakes his wings, raises his tail gracefully, spreads it a little, stoops his head several times, raises his tail again, and proceeds. If any object attracts his attention, he bends his head towards it, and generally looks at it with only one eye. It is true that he jumps hastily upon the insects which constitute his food; but he does not seize them so eagerly as other birds; on the contrary, he stops short, and seems to deliberate whether it is prudent to eat them or not. Generally he has a serious circumspect air, but his foresight is not proportioned to it, for he falls readily into all the snares which are laid for him. If he once escapes, however, he is not so easily caught again, and becomes as cunning as any other bird. The same, indeed, may be said of all birds pursued by man. Nightingales are called, in my opinion very unjustly, silly and curious; for a great number of new things may be offered them without exciting the least attention; but scratch or dig the earth, and they approach directly, because instinct or experience tells them that they shall there find insects, which they are very fond of. Many other species of this group do the same thing; for instance, the blackcap and the red-breast, without its having been mentioned. These birds do not, however, deserve so much of our attention as the nightingale.
Habitation.—When wild, nightingales are found throughout Europe, as far as the north of England and the middle of Sweden: in all Asia, as far as the temperate regions of Siberia; and in Africa on the banks of the Nile. They every where choose for their residence places which are shady, cool, but not cold, such as woods, thickets, and even mere hedges in the fields. They do not go beyond the skirts of the forests on high chains of mountains, and never stop on elevations where the air is too keen. Groves, thick brambles, tufted bushes near fields and meadows, are their favourite abodes. They also like gardens planted with untrimmed elm-hedges, which are consequently thick and bushy down to the ground. It is not true that they like watery situations, and if they frequent them it is not for the water, but because they generally produce thick tufted bushes. It must also be owned that their favourite food is more constantly abundant in such places, and if the cold destroys the insects elsewhere, plenty may always be found in them. It is not however the less certain that the water is not the attraction, or all would repair to its vicinity, which experience contradicts. The fact is, that each nightingale generally establishes himself in the place which gave him birth, whether near the water or not, whether in an orchard or on a mountain; and when once he has fixed on a spot, he returns to it every year, unless the place has lost its charm or advantage. If the wood for instance has been cut down, or has lost the thick shade, which was its chief merit, in such circumstances he seeks in the neighbourhood another spot more to his liking. But if, in a considerable circuit where no change has taken place, a nightingale is seen to establish himself in a spot which was unoccupied the preceding year, it may be concluded that it is a young bird which was born in the vicinity. Convenient places are so much valued, that if the possessors die or are caught, new comers seize upon them immediately; so that the bird which we hear to-day, is very possibly not the same which sang yesterday in the same place. Many other causes may also concur in producing this change of inhabitants, which an ear well versed in the language of these birds will always discover.
It may, perhaps, be asked why, in many places which appear so well adapted to attract nightingales, none are found[73]. I reply that these spots may be concealed by woods or mountains, and not lie perceived by the nightingales in their journeys, or they may be quite out of their route, for they have a regular one which they never quit, because, their progress being slow, and subject to interruptions, it is requisite that they should find on their passage every thing necessary for their subsistence, and too cold an atmosphere is painful to them. It may also happen that the nightingales which formerly frequented them, may have been altogether extirpated; and as it has been said that the young always establish themselves in the district which gave them birth, it is by no means surprising that they should not be chosen, at least there are many chances against it. Rather than wait in vain for this chance, there is a means of re-peopling such places with these charming birds. It is only necessary to bring up some broods of young ones, and not let them loose in the following spring till after the period of return is elapsed; because being no longer excited by the instinct which induces them to travel, and the instinct itself being subdued in a great measure by their imprisoned education, they will not wander, but will remain and propagate, provided they are not disturbed, and will return the year following with all their family. I must not omit to say that the young intended for this re-peopling must not be confined in a cage, as they would lose the use of their wings, and run the risk of perishing the first day of their liberation. As soon as they can feed themselves, they must be allowed an entire room, in which they may fly freely, and grow strong and bold. A sort of grove should be formed of branches or small trees, and nature should be imitated as much as possible also in feeding them, by throwing to them more insects and ants’ eggs than usual, to accustom them to seek for them.
The period of the nightingale’s return throughout the greater part of Germany, is the middle of April, rarely either earlier or later[74]: it is always when the white-thorn begins to expand its leaves. Advancing slowly and gradually, these birds are not so likely to suffer from bad weather as those which go straight to their destination by one stage. In the middle of August each family prepares to depart; this is done quietly, removing gradually, and passing from grove to grove to the end of their journey; then it is that these birds are caught with nooses or springes, by using elderberries or currants for a bait. The middle of September is the latest period at which they are seen in Germany. All then disappear imperceptibly, so that the time they employ in the rest of their journey is altogether unknown. Other birds, whose instinct leads them to travel in large flights, do not so easily escape observation. If by accident a nightingale is met with at the end of September, or in October, it must have been delayed by some peculiar circumstance; for instance, it may be a young one that has lost its way, or that was hatched late, or it may be an invalid.
In confinement nightingales may be allowed to fly freely, as I have often permitted them; but they do not then sing so well as when in a cage, where they are less subject to interruptions, and where also they live longer and more healthily, from being fed with more care and regularity. The nightingale’s cage, of whatever form, must not be less than a foot and a half in length, by about one in width, and one or more in height. The top should be made of linen or soft stuff, that when jumping and struggling, especially when first caught, he may not injure his head. The drinking-cup and feeding-trough are fastened on the outside, unless it is preferred to introduce the latter within, in the form of a drawer. The following are the best form and proportions for a nightingale’s cage, that I am acquainted with:—Length, one foot and a half; breadth, eight inches; height, fifteen inches in the middle; thirteen at the sides, because the roof is arched. The sides are made of osiers about a quarter of an inch thick; the bottom is made of the same material, but it is covered by a drawer an inch and a quarter in depth. In order to clean it more easily, I cover it with coarse paper, which I renew every time. The feeding-trough is introduced on one side, with edges high enough to prevent the bird’s spilling too much of the food. In the middle of the front of the cage, and extending from top to bottom, is a cylindrical projection in the form of a belfry, in which is suspended a large drinking-glass. The upper stick of the cage is confined here, terminating in a fork, or fixed to a semi-circle, that the projection may not be prevented from moving. This projection is made of osiers, like the rest of the cage. The middle and lower sticks are covered with green cloth, firmly sewed on, that the nightingale may have a softer perch, and not have his feet so soon injured, which is very common with imprisoned birds. The arched roof is also covered with green stuff, which is painted that colour with oil paint, as well as the whole of the cage. But it must be well dried, and quite free from smell before the bird is put into it.
My reasons for preferring this cage are, first, because being small, it occupies less room, without disadvantage to the bird or to the apartment; second, because the size of the osiers leave small intervals for the admission of light, and it is consequently darker; third, because the bird can bathe without wetting his cage or his perches: and consequently his feet remain cleaner and more healthy.
As to the situation of the cage, the prisoner’s taste must be consulted. Some nightingales dislike being in the window, and prefer a dark corner of the room; others like the light and the sun. If it is wished that a nightingale should sing everywhere, it is necessary, when he is moulting, and before he resumes his song, to accustom him to a change of place, by carrying him sometimes here, sometimes there. Some will sing only when they are alone, while others like to perform alternately with a neighbour; but they never sing so loud and well when there are several in a room. Perhaps jealousy is the chief cause of this. On these occasions, the first that begins generally maintains the superiority; the others sing only when he stops, and this but seldom, and in an under tone. Some are so sulky that they will not sing at all. Some of these obstinate pouters are occasionally, from their silence, mistaken for females, and consequently dismissed from the room, but when they find themselves alone they begin to sing at full stretch.