# The Zoologist/4th series, vol 3 (1899)/Issue 695/Early Spring Migrations, Cordeaux

Published in The Zoologist, 4th series, vol 3, issues 695 (May, 1899), p. 193–197
THE ZOOLOGIST
No. 695.— May, 1899.
EARLY SPRING MIGRATIONS.
By John Cordeaux, F.R.G.S., M.B.O.U.
The spring movements, or the passing out, of birds such as winter in these islands, as all observers on the east coast are aware, is far less in evidence than are those great and continuous inrushes in the autumn, extending over days, weeks, and months, and arresting attention by their very magnitude and persistence. In the vernal movement, or emigration, there is rarely anything to attract notice, for it seldom happens that flights of birds are seen actually leaving the shore; all the chief phenomena probably occurring in the night time, or at such a height as to be invisible to our eyes.
That great movements are in progress is suggested by the larger flights of various species which in the early spring congregate in the coast districts—here one day and gone the next—and having their places taken by other flocks presumably coming from more inland localities, all bent on leaving the country; for it is now a proved fact that, as a rule, birds emigrate from the same section of coast as witnessed their immigration, only in the reverse direction.
In this north-east corner of Lincolnshire, bordering the sea, the most obvious and perhaps the best marked spring movements are in connection with the Thrushes (Turdus). By the end of February, excepting such as are resident and nesting, the ​immigrant Mistletoe-Thrushes (increasing numbers of which annually arrive every autumn) have taken their departure. Old cock Blackbirds begin to swarm in coast hedgerows, and in fact in every tall rough fence and coppice for miles inland, till we are amazed at their astonishing plenty and the facilities offered for the "four-and-twenty Blackbirds all baked in a pie." These Blackbirds, also the Thrushes which move later, do not appear to congregate into flocks on departing, but gradually thin off and disappear from their temporary retreats as the spirit moves them. This, however, is not the case with the northern Thrushes—Fieldfares and Redwings. Both are gregarious, and the former pre-eminently so; for days before setting off, Fieldfares sit in great flights in the middle of pastures, or crowd the summits of lofty trees within sound of the surf. Wild by nature and noisy to a degree, their harsh "yack-chuck-chuck" is about the most familiar of the bird sounds in the marshes. This mild winter has been very favourable for them with the abundant crop of hips and haws, yet with all this abundance neither young nor old have forgot the track of the Norway wind and the path to the summer home. Their going out is a long and protracted business, often not completed, although it begins early, before the middle or end of May. Redwings—most plentiful during this winter—are in a degree less gregarious, but they have much the same habits as their congeners, and leave at the same period as do the emigrating Thrushes (T. musicus), and they make a much more rapid and complete work of it than the Fieldfares, for we shall not find a Redwing after March, or middle of April at the latest, in the park-lands, paddocks, or meadows bordering the streams, where they have been hopping all the winter.
It is remarkable, considering the millions of Larks which for weeks and months pour on to the east coast in autumn from early in August to Christmas, so little is known of their emigration. Such, however, is the case; they succeed in slipping off quietly and unobserved, and probably, as in autumn, in straggling companies, and at night. Larks, however, do not always adopt open order on their migrations, and I have known them, under certain meteorological conditions, approach the coast in densely packed flocks like clouds, and hundreds of yards in extent.
​Immigrating Lapwings, on first coming to land, sit for a time very closely packed where they happen to alight, as if comparing notes of their passage; and I have often noticed that before leaving their winter quarters they come together in the same way, covering the land like a black sheet.
Grey Crows have for weeks (March 24th) shown signs of leave-taking, and now scarcely any of the many hundreds can be seen in their winter haunts, or on the Humber tide-slobs. Black Carrion Crows move about the same time, and they are very numerous here in winter. I know of one small wood where about two hundred have come in each night to roost.
Golden-crested Wrens are always in evidence about the last week in March, not showing in the thousands of autumn immigration, but two and three together, and scattered all about the country. When delayed in departure by unfavourable weather conditions, I have known them accumulate in great numbers in the Flamborough hedgerows.
I often wonder what becomes of the Redbreasts which in October come in thousands at the same time as the Gold-crests. Robins which we see at low water skulking amidst blackened timbers of ancient wrecks miles from the shore—Robins in scores on the bleak wind-swept fitties sheltering amongst sea-plants, or on the marram-grown dune—Robins again in hundreds preening and sunning on the lee side of storm-clipt hedgerows, so numerous that on dull autumn days the dark strip of fence is bright as a flower-bank with the gleam of so many chestnut-red spots. Indications of the spring migration of Redbreasts are few; possibly they may return to their European quarters by another route. At Heligoland during the first part of April they are in the height of the movement.
Woodcocks and Gold-crests (Woodcock pilots) are fellow-travellers in autumn, and on the move at the same time in spring from the middle to the end of March, when the former approach the east coast and appear in the covers.
Peregrines in pairs move northward along the coast in March.
Greenfinches, Chaffinches, Twites, and Yellowhammers, particularly the latter, come in great flocks in oat-seed time, but are quickly gone, often remaining but a few hours.
​Many Grey-Geese were observed by the coastguard passing over North Cotes on Feb. 10th and 11th. About the same date Golden Plovers were singing their spring song, one of the most charming sounds in nature, always reminding me of some of the flute-like notes of a Blackbird.
Resident Starlings are now (March 24th) busy at their nesting quarters; at least a dozen pairs in the ivy of this house. Tens of thousands, however, of the foreign purple-headed birds continue each afternoon to fly over the grounds to roost in a blackthorn cover in the marsh. They are late emigrants, and will probably not altogether disappear before April is well on.
I saw the Gold-crest here on the 24th, and a Woodcock the same day. On the 25th many Golden Plovers, several blackbreasted, and the remainder more or less in transition. In meadow lands and pastures extraordinary numbers of Fieldfares and a few Redwings. The great severity of the weather since March 17th has probably retarded and thrown back any migratory movements on their parts, hence this great accumulation in our coast district.
Further Notes on Spring Migration.
On the night of Feb. 7th to 8th, Larks, Thrushes, and Redwings beat about the lantern of Flamborough Lighthouse, and again, mixed with Starlings, on the night of 14th to 15th.
Night of April 4th to 5th a Water-Rail was killed against the lantern; also two Golden-crested Wrens flew against the glass—this was just after midnight. The same night (4th to 5th) a remarkably fine heavy Woodcock flew against one of the telegraph wires near Filey Station, and all but decapitated itself, the head being only attached to the body by a loose fragment of skin. The Water-Rail which I obtained at the lighthouse on the 6th was bruised down one side, and appeared to have struck sideways. These notes are interesting, as they indicate the time these birds were on the move and actually leaving the country.
Between April 1st and 4th many Wheatears passed north, apparently touching the most prominent positions along the coast. They were, between these dates, seen in some number at the Spurn, Flamborough Head, Filey Brigg, and Scarborough ​Castle Rock. In two of these places I did not see one on the 5th and 6th.
Wheatears appeared much earlier on the west coast. Mr. G.H. Caton Haigh wrote to me:—"On the 21st (March) we had the heaviest snowstorm that has occurred here for years; in the afternoon the snow was eight inches deep. In the midst of this storm the first Wheatears appeared, four or five, all males; they frequented the seaweed-covered rocks in company with scores of Meadow-Pipits."
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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