1690 Birds. 



Note on the Arrival of some of the Summer Birds of Passage at Shooter's Hill, Kent, 

 in the Spring of 1846. 

 Extremes meet : the bitter winter of 1844-5 was succeeded by the mildest winter 

 known. Throughout Europe the winter was so open, that there may be said to have 

 been no winter in 1845-6. I was, therefore, early on the look out for the return of my 

 musical friends. Hearing that the chiff-chaff had been seen on the 27th of February, 

 I diligently, but ineffectually, sought it till the 11th of March, when my old acquaint- 

 ance, on the top of Shooter's Hill, announced his arrival as the harbinger of a forward 

 spring. Some woodmen had heard one lower down in the woods about a fortnight 

 earlier. On the 12th, I observed three chiff-chaffs, and on the 27th never noticed 

 them more numerous or noisy. I had for days regularly beat up the haunts of the 

 blackcap, and felt some disappointment at not meeting with him, when on the 28th 

 of March, while pruning a rose-tree at mid-day, 1 heard the well-known notes of that 

 merry bird. I darted off for my glass, and soon saw our blackcap, in blooming 

 condition, singing away in the highest spirits. I was delighted beyond measure to 

 hear our welcome friend once more. While walking to the stable, at \ past 7 a.m., 

 and looking at the clouds, I suddenly exclaimed, " What ! a swallow ? No ! it flies like, 

 but cannot be, a martin." A quick turn, however, exposed its white rump, and sure 

 enough there was a house martin on the 1st of April. This morning I heard several 

 blackcaps in full song. On the 3rd of April, as I rode through the brushwood on 

 Shooter's Hill, I observed a little light-coloured bird being driven about by a sturdy 

 stonechat. The little fellow whipped into a bramble-bush, and I instantly heard the 

 joyous song of the gallant little willow-wren. A moment after he was paying his 

 respects to a pair of dicky dunnocks : the bird was all excitement, and scarcely knew 

 what to be at. On the 4th, I met with numbers of willow-wrens on the east of Plum- 

 stead Common, and rode with them for some time in their progress westward. This, 

 and other observations, lead me to think, that many of the smaller birds of passage 

 come up the valley of the Thames with the river for their guide. On my arrival 

 home, after my morning's ride on Sunday the 5th, I caught the sound of a martin's 

 twitter, and on looking up there was our house martin, making a figure of 8 round the I 

 two blocks of houses, singing and chattering in very gladness of heart. So numerous 

 were the willow-wrens on the 6th, that Shooter's Hill broke forth into singing. 



The plumage of all the birds was most splendid this spring. Some of the willow- 

 wrens were almost as bright as canaries, the feathers about the throat being a distinct 

 yellow, shading off into green. On the 8th, the willow -wrens were singing everywhere, 

 and flying at each other most pugnaciously. The nightingale was heard on the 8th 

 by residents on Shooter's Hill. The woodmen stated that they had seen the wryneck ' 

 and titlark on the 8th, and had heard the nightingale on the 9th. On the 11th, I saw | 

 a hen blackcap ; and at last met with the nightingale crossing the path in the Castle- 

 woods. I soon heard his croak, and then mounting a tree, he poured forth his un- 

 rivalled melody. Right or wrong, I took him to be my broken-legged nightingale : 

 he occupied the same quarters, and sang in the same trees ; numbers of traps were 

 again laid for him, but he, gaining wisdom from experience, had learned to withstand 

 the temptation of meal-worms, and escaped them all. As soon as his wife arrived, I 

 caught her and let her fly, so that often through the spring I had the pleasure of hear- 

 ing the luscious notes of her mate. I was told a nightingale had been heard, an- 

 another had been caught on the 5th of April. Sunday, the 12th, I heard a tree pipit, 



