Ornithological biography, Vol. 4 (of 5)

by John James Audubon

“I know not a more pleasant object to look at than the Wren; it is always so smart and cheerful. In gloomy weather, other birds often seem melancholy, and in rain the Sparrows and Finches stand silent on the twigs, with drooping wings and ruffled plumage. But to the Wren all weathers are alike. The big drops of the thunder-shower no more wet it than the drizzle of an easterly haar; and as it peeps from beneath the bramble, or glances from a hole in the wall, it seems as snug as a kitten frisking on the parlour rug.

“It is amusing to watch the motions of a young family of Wrens just come abroad. Walking among furze, or broom, or juniper, you are attracted to some bush by hearing issue from it a lively and frequent repetition of a sound which resembles the syllable chit. On going up you perceive an old Wren flitting about the twigs, and presently a young one flies off, uttering a stiffled chirr, to conceal itself among the bushes. Several follow in succession, while the parents continue to flutter about, in great alarm, uttering their loud chit, chit, chit, with indications of varied degrees of excitement. On open ground a young Wren might easily be run down, and I have heard it asserted that an old one may soon be tired out in time of snow, when it cannot easily conceal itself. And yet, even in such a case, it is by no means easy to keep it in sight, for on the side of a bank, or by a wall, or in a thicket, it will find a hole where one least expected it, and creeping in some crevice beneath the snow, reappear at a considerable distance.

“The food of birds can be determined only by opening their crops or stomachs, or by observation directed to living individuals, the former, however, being the only sure method. The Wrens which I have opened generally contained remains of insects of various kinds, with larvæ, and sometimes pupæ; but I have also found in them seeds, and Mr Neville Wood states that they sometimes eat red currants. In the stomach of an individual examined in December 1830, I found many small hard seeds, an entire pupæ, and numerous fragments of the shells of pupæ, and elytra of coleopterous insects. So small a bird having so slender a bill, might doubtless be taken for a typical entomophagist; but it is probable that no species of this order confines itself exclusively to insects.

“The Wren pairs about the middle of spring, and begins early in April to construct its nest, which varies much in form and composition, according to the locality. One brought me by my son is of astonishing size compared with that of its architect, its greatest diameter being seven inches, and its height five. Having been placed on a flat surface under a bank, its base is of a corresponding form, and is composed of layers of decayed ferns and other plants, mixed with twigs of herbaceous and woody vegetables. Similar materials have been employed in raising the outer wall of the nest itself, of which the interior is spherical, and three inches in diameter. The wall is composed of mosses of several species, quite fresh and green, and it is arched over with fern leaves and straws. The mosses are curiously interwoven with fibrous roots and hair of various animals, and the inner surface is even and compact, like coarse felt. To the height of two inches there is a copious lining of large soft feathers, chiefly of the Wood Pigeon, but also of the Pheasant and Domestic Duck, with a few of the Blackbird. The aperture, which is in front, and in the form of a low arch, two inches in breadth at the base, and an inch and a half in height, has its lower edge formed of slender twigs, strong herbaceous stalks, and stems of grasses, the lowest being felted in the usual manner. It contained five eggs of an elongated oval form, averaging eight lines in length, and six lines in breadth, pure white, with some scattered dots of light red at the larger end, one of them with scarcely any, and another with a great number. Of three nests presented to me by my friend Thomas Durham Weir, Esq. one is extremely beautiful, being composed entirely of fresh green hypna, without any internal layer, although, no eggs having been found in it, it possibly had not been completed. It is of an oblong form, seven inches in length, and four in its transverse diameter. The mouth measures an inch and eight-twelfths across, an inch and a twelfth in height. Its lower part is formed of small twigs of larch laid across and interwoven, so as to present a firm pediment. The longitudinal diameter of the interior is three inches and a half. Another, formed on a decayed tuft of Aira cæspitosa, is globular, six inches in diameter, and composed of moss, with a lining of hair and feathers, chiefly of the domestic fowl. The third is globular, and externally formed almost entirely of ferns, like that described above. In all the nests of this species which I have seen, the lower part of the mouth was composed of twigs of trees, or stems of herbaceous plants laid across, and kept together with moss and hair.

“The nests are found in a great variety of situations: very often in a recess overhung by a bank, sometimes in a crevice among stones, in the hole of a wall, or of a tree, among the thatch of a cottage or outhouse, on the top of a shed or barn, the branch of a tree, whether growing along a wall, or standing free, among ivy, honeysuckle, clematis, or other climbing plants. When the nest is on the ground, its base is generally formed of leaves, twigs, and straws, and its exterior is often similar; but when otherwise, the outer surface is generally smooth and chiefly composed of moss.

“The number of eggs which it lays has been variously stated by authors. Mr Weir says that, although it is commonly seven or eight, so many as sixteen or seventeen have been found in its nest. Robert Smith, weaver in Bathgate, told me, that a few years ago, he saw in a nest, which was built on the bank of a rivulet about two miles from Linlithgow, seventeen eggs; and James D. Baillie, Esq. informed me, that in June last, he took out of one which he discovered in a spruce tree, near Polkemmet House, sixteen eggs.”

My friend Thomas M’Culloch of Pictou has presented me with the following curious account of a European individual of this species.

“During my residence at Spring Vale in the vicinity of Hammersmith, I was amusing myself one afternoon with the movements of a pair of Water-hens, which were flirting about the edge of the tall reeds so abundant in that neighbourhood, when my attention was arrested by a Wren, carrying a straw, darting into a small hedge directly beneath the window at which I stood. In a few minutes the bird reappeared, and flew to a piece of old thatch which was lying near, and having disengaged another straw he immediately returned with it to the place in which the first had been deposited. For about two hours this operation was continued by the bird with the greatest diligence. He then abandoned his task, and ascending the highest twig of the hedge, he poured forth his sweet and merry notes, until driven away by some person passing near. For the remainder of the evening I saw no more of the little architect, but on the following morning, being drawn to the window by his song, I observed him leave his favourite perch and resume with ardour the employment of the previous day. During the forenoon I was not able to pay much attention to the movements of the Wren, but from an occasional glance I observed that his task, with the exception of a few intervals of relaxation, when his merry warble fell upon the ear, was plied with a degree of bustling activity which was worthy of the important undertaking. On examining his labours at the close of the second day, I observed that the exterior of a large spherical nest was nearly finished, and that from the old thatch, though exceedingly moist and black from decay, all the materials had been obtained. By the afternoon of the ensuing day his visits to the thatch were discontinued, and he kept bustling and flirting about the spot. He seemed from his lengthened intervals of song rather to be exulting in the progress, than to be making any addition to the work. In the evening I inspected the nest, and found the exterior complete, and by carefully inserting my finger, I ascertained that no lining had yet been applied, in consequence most probably of the moisture which still remained in the straw. Returning to the spot in about half an hour afterwards, with one of my cousins, to look at the nest, I observed with no small surprise that the little bird had not only resented the intrusion by closing up the aperture, but also had opened another passage from the opposite side of the hedge. The aperture was closed with pieces of the old thatch, and the work was so neatly executed that no traces of the former entrance were perceptible. The nest was altogether the work of one bird, and during the time he spent in building we never observed another Wren in his company. In the choice of the materials, as well as in the situation of the nest, there was something exceedingly curious. Though the bottom and sides of the garden were enclosed by a thick hedge, in which he could have built in perfect security, and where, from the vicinity of the stables, abundance of fresh materials could have been easily obtained, yet the old thatch and the hedge at the head of the garden were preferred. This part of the hedge was young and thin, and separated from the buildings by a narrow path, which was constantly frequented by the servants of the establishment. Interruptions from this source, however, he did not seem to mind, for though often driven from his task he returned the next moment with as much confidence as if he had never been disturbed. Even when his nest was destroyed by the wantonness of a stranger, he did not abandon the place, but continued to carry straws from the old thatch with as much diligence as before. From the extreme caution, however, which he subsequently displayed, and the circuitous routes which he took, I never could discover the spot which he selected for his second nest.”

The Winter Wren so closely resembles the European Wren, that I was long persuaded of their identity; but a careful comparison of a great number of specimens, has convinced me that permanent differences in colouring may be pointed out, although still, I am not by any means persuaded that they are specifically different.

Troglodytes Hyemalis, Vieill. Encyl. Meth., ii. p. 470.