KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



163 



The Cuckoo. — Sir, your correspondent, Mr. 

 Henry Doubleday, has, it appears, read some 

 remarks in the Naturalist (reviewed in your 

 paper of the 12th inst.,) about the cuckoo. I 

 too, in consequence of Mr. Doubleday's obser- 

 vations, have had the curiosity to read the article 

 he refers to, and give full credence to its truth. 

 Indeed, I have perused it with much interest. I 

 must confess my surprise — a surprise which will 

 be shared in common with most of your other 

 readers — why your correspondent should, in a 

 paper bearing so high a character as the Garden- 

 ers' Chronicle — and in such unmeasured terms 

 too ! — fall foul of a writer who, whilst giving his 

 name and address, very modestly relates of this 

 and another bird, no more than he is prepared to 

 verify. Mr. Doubleday asserts, or to use his own 

 strange language, u positively states," that the 

 cuckoo " never feeds its own young!" In 

 making this positive, but rash and erroneous 

 assertion, he has greatly exceeded the bounds 

 both of prudence and of courtesy ; for it is a fact, 

 patent to most ornitbologists, that the cuckoo has 

 been seen in the act of assisting in feeding her off- 

 spring — I say assisting, because, where there is no 

 necessity for her aid in this matter, she never inter- 

 feres. The hedge sparrow and the robin* are 

 the two principal birds delegated to officiate on 

 these occasions. They are wisely selected by the 

 cuckoo to be the custodians of her eggs, inasmuch 

 as they are best adapted, from the nature of the 

 food they eat, for the task of feeding her young, 

 when hatched. A few years since the sight of a 

 redbreast feeding a young cuckoo, assisted by 

 the old cuckoo, was witnessed by a most truthful 

 and worthy ornithologist, a friend of mine, 

 now no more. His animated countenance 

 is even now before me, whilst relating mi- 

 nutely, and with intense interest, the ' singular 

 and ridiculous disparity observable between the 

 natural and the putative parent. The description 

 he gave me of their joint occupation in cramming 

 the lubberly, ill-favored young cuckoo, was too 

 vivid for me easily to forget it. The manner of 

 the relation, too, apart from my friend's known 

 veracity, carried with it the most perfect con- 

 viction of its truth. Nor is this by any means a 

 solitary instance of the (latent) natural affection 

 of the cuckoo, implanted by nature, and called 

 forth under peculiar circumstances ; for, let me 

 add, the physical strength of small birds is, oc- 

 casionally, totally inadequate to the heavy duties 

 of filling the maw of so voracious a gourmand as 

 a young cuckoo. Like " Oliver Twist," of 

 workhouse notoriety, his constant cry is, " More ! 

 more ! ! " and greedily impatient is he till he gets 

 it. I would remark, in conclusion, that it is as 

 unfair as it is unwise for your correspondent to 

 try to put clown so brusquely, by empty assertion, 



* The nest of the robin, I would observe, is 

 sometimes built in situations quite as accessible as 

 tempting to the cuckoo. It has been so in my 

 own garden ; and two years since, early in the 

 morning, I observed a cuckoo very busily watch- 

 ing the movements of a robin, then about to sit. 

 My avocations, however, at that time — for I was 

 constantly away from home — prevented my wit- 

 nessing what I have since imagined might have 

 taken place. 



what is advanced upon the mo3t respectable au- 

 thority. It is the direct way of preventing those 

 useful additions to our knowledge, which it should 

 be our endeavor as much as it is our interest, 

 always to encourage. In so saying, I speak but 

 the sentiments of all true lovers of nature. — 

 William Kidd, Hammersmith. 



This letter gave rise to many others on the 

 same side ; and the habits of the cuckoo are 

 now much better known than they were. It 

 would be ungenerous in us to dwell on poor 

 Mr. Doubleday's defeat, especially after the 

 rough treatment he received from all quarters. 

 Dr. Morris' final letter, containing the grand 

 summing up, finished him entirely. He had 

 two aiders and abettors, at starting ; but they 

 skulked off the moment they smelt powder, 

 and saw the flash in the pan. The last shot 

 wae fired in the Gardeners' Journal,, Nov. 29, 

 1851. The Editor wrote as follows : — 



" We are incidentally reminded of the recent 

 discussions on the habits of the cuckoo, which 

 have elicited so much public attention. The 

 natural history of the bird appears now to be 

 tolerably well understood. Indeed, those 

 who have hitherto been so vociferous in their 

 abuse of it, do seem ashamed, and are now 

 completely silenced. Their fond and ridicu- 

 lous theories are for ever demolished. It 

 will be remembered that the first attempt 

 to clear up all mystery in connexion with the 

 cuckoo, originated with Mr. Kidd, the natu- 

 ralist, who has been unceasing in his endea- 

 vors to bring the truth to light. In these 

 he has been ably seconded by a host of 

 practical and experimental philosophers ; nor 

 have the columns of the Gardeners' Journal 

 been found wanting in the discussion ; much 

 new and very valuable matter having therein 

 appeared, quite apropos to the inquiry. In 

 his popular and interesting ' Essays on 

 Instinct and Reason' (see Gardeners' 1 Chro- 

 nicle, Nov. 15,) Mr. Kidd remarks, in con- 

 nexion with this subject ; — 



I have not failed to vindicate the ways of 

 Nature on every occasion where her aid is re- 

 quired ; and it is pleasing to know that I have 

 been the means, indirectly, of most satisfactorily 

 establishing the fact of the cuckoo on certain oc- 

 casions feeding her own young. This was, until 

 lately, with some few persons a vexed question. 

 I have elicited, also, most abundant and satis- 

 factory proofs, from men of reputation, observation, 

 and undoubted veracity, that the female does utter 

 the well-known cry — "Cuckoo! Cuckoo!" and 

 that the parent birds do linger with us until after 

 July, to give safe conduct to such of their offspring 

 as may have been hatched so late, or even later 

 in the season. And why not ? 



We must not wonder, but rejoice, that dame 

 Nature takes such singular care of her children, 

 and protects them from their earliest infancy in all 

 times of peril and danger. If they offend against 

 her admonitions, as we u reasonable " folk do too 

 often, against our better knowledge — then they, 



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