The Zoologist/3rd series, vol 1 (1877)/Issue 2/On the Autumnal Migration of Birds on the Yorkshire Coast

by Frederick Boyes

 

THE ZOOLOGIST

 

THIRD SERIES.

 

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ON THE AUTUMNAL MIGRATION OF BIRDS ON
THE YORKSHIRE COAST.

By Frederick Boyes.

 

On the 23rd of October last I went down to Spurn Head to witness the arrival of our autumn immigrants, and an account of what I saw may be of interest to the readers of 'The Zoologist.'

First, as to the place, Spurn Point is the terminal portion of a narrow peninsula about four miles in length, which is washed by the sea on the one side, and the Humber on the other. It was in olden times very much broader than it is now; indeed it is not unlikely that the sea will eventually swallow it up altogether, since, even within the memory of man, it has made such encroachments that there is now in some places only a very narrow strip a few yards in width unwashed by the tide, and as this is composed entirely of sandhills and "bent" grass, it offers but a poor resistance against a rough sea. The spot is well situated for the observation of migratory birds as they pass overhead or rest after their long journeys, and has long been noted for the number that annually alight there, many of them being so fatigued with their passage that they are only too glad to pitch on the first strip of land they fall in with, no matter how unsuited it may be to their natural requirements.

During the two or three days of easterly winds which prevailed previous to my visit, a great portion of the large army of southward-bound birds had already passed Spurn; but I was not too late to see much that was interesting, and to note a few facts that were either new to me, or of which I had previously heard only by report. The most noticeable feature was the great number of Robins; there were scores, I think I may say hundreds, of them hopping about this out-of-the-way place, which must have formed a great contrast to their usual haunts amongst homesteads and gardens: they had evidently quite lately arrived, and were resting themselves previously to dispersing over the country or moving still further southward. I am afraid they were only getting a scanty supply of food, for what they could find amongst long grass and sand I can scarcely say. In a small walled garden only a very few yards square, containing a few currant trees, &c., there must have been twenty or thirty of them—native informants said fifty at least—searching for food; and in all the ditches and hedgerows of the cultivated lands further from the coast, Robins were very plentiful. This migration of the Redbreast is not new, but I believe an annual occurrence. Last year at this spot they were even more numerous.

The next birds in point of numbers were the Goldcrests, or "Woodcock-pilots," as they are locally called, and they were everywhere; many of them being so exhausted as to be easily knocked down with a hat, and numbers might have been caught in an ordinary insect-net. Prior to my arrival two Rough-legged Buzzards had been shot; I saw one of them, a very fine female.

There were numbers of Blackbirds, Thrushes and Redwings in the neighbourhood, and small parties of the latter were passing at intervals all day long. There was this difference in these birds, that while the Redwings migrated in small flocks, the Blackbirds and Thrushes did so singly or in twos and threes. I saw a Ring Ouzel and a solitary Fieldfare, but was told that a flock of about fifty of the latter birds had arrived so early as the last week in September, and though I told my informant that he must have been mistaken, he assured me he was not.

A few Woodcocks were shot, and there were numbers of Short-eared Owls and a single Long-eared one, which latter had killed itself against the telegraph-wire. I met two shooters who had bagged no less than nine Short-eared Owls for "screens"; these were afterwards sent to Mr. Richardson, the birdstuffer here, where I dissected several of them, and found the stomachs empty in every case but one, and this contained the remains of a Blackbird, probably found dead beneath the telegraph-wires.

Amongst this host of bird-life a few Great Gray Shrikes were seen, and three or four were shot; two of them by myself. The stomach of one of these contained part of a Common Wren, one foot and leg being entire. I think I have already mentioned in 'The Zoologist' that these Shrikes arrive with the Redwings, &c., at this time of the year. Occasionally I disturbed Common Wrens from amongst the long grass, and as Mr. Cordeaux had some time ago, if I remember rightly, expressed an idea that some Wrens he had observed at Spurn in the autumn looked larger than the Common Wren, I procured two for identification.

I observed numbers of Chaffinches and a few Bramblings; also a few Lesser Redpolls and one Mealy Redpoll, which last I shot; it was a male, and alone when I shot it. Some half-dozen Reed Buntings which I saw were no doubt migrants; they were all in winter plumage. A flock of Common Linnets were seen several times, but as these birds breed there amongst the coarse grass, I cannot include them in the migratory list. I saw no Twites, though they are usually present there in the autumn, nor did I see a single Snow Bunting. The only summer birds I noticed were one or two Willow Wrens.

All the species I have mentioned were resting from their journey, and would be moving again in a few days: some of them only rest a day and then are off again, and their places are taken by others. Looking at the small area of the ground which formed the scene of my observations, the great host of immigrants that visit it from the north at this season of the year is marvellous. A very striking feature was the great number of Rooks passing overhead at intervals all day long; in some instances the flocks were composed of Rooks and Jackdaws mixed. Hooded Crows in straggling parties and Sky Larks in small flocks were also passing all the day. All these birds were steering a direct southerly course. The birds comprising some of the flocks of Rooks looked tired, and moved slowly at no great altitude; others, and especially the larger flocks, were high in the air, and were evidently not so much distressed: the Jackdaws were very noisy. This migration of the Corvidæ had been going on for some few days previously, and would no doubt continue some days longer. Were they noticed passing the south coast? and whence their destination?

[This article was received prior to the appearance of 'The Zoologist' for January, and its publication was only delayed for want of space.—Ed.]