Chapter 7

BIRDS.

In the present chapter we have not only a striking proof of Shakespeare's minute acquaintance with natural history, but of his remarkable versatility as a writer. While displaying a most extensive knowledge of ornithology, he has further illustrated his subject by alluding to those numerous legends, popular sayings, and superstitions which have, in this and other countries, clustered round the feathered race. Indeed, the following pages are alone sufficient to show, if it were necessary, how fully he appreciated every branch of antiquarian lore; and what a diligent student he must have been in the pursuit of that wide range of information, the possession of which has made him one of the most many-sided writers that the world has ever seen. The numerous incidental allusions, too, by Shakespeare, to the folk-lore of bygone days, while showing how deeply he must have read and gathered knowledge from every available source, serve as an additional proof of his retentive memory, and marvellous power of embellishing his ideas by the most apposite illustrations. Unfortunately, however, these have, hitherto, been frequently lost sight of through the reader's unacquaintance with that extensive field of folk-lore which was so well known to the poet. For the sake of easy reference, the birds with which the present chapter deals are arranged alphabetically.

_Barnacle-Goose._ There was a curious notion, very prevalent in former times, that this bird (_Anser bernicla_) was generated from the barnacle (_Lepas anatifera_), a shell-fish, growing on a flexible stem, and adhering to loose timber, bottoms of ships, etc., a metamorphosis to which Shakespeare alludes in "The Tempest" (iv. 1), where he makes Caliban say:

"we shall lose our time, And all be turn'd to barnacles."

This vulgar error, no doubt, originated in mistaking the fleshy peduncle of the shell-fish for the neck of a goose, the shell for its head, and the tentacula for a tuft of feathers. These shell-fish, therefore, bearing, as seen out of the water, a resemblance to the goose's neck, were ignorantly, and without investigation, confounded with geese themselves. In France, the barnacle-goose may be eaten on fast days, by virtue of this old belief in its fishy origin.[152] Like other fictions this one had its variations,[153] for sometime the barnacles were supposed to grow on trees, and thence to drop into the sea, and become geese, as in Drayton's account of Furness ("Polyolb." 1622, song 27, l. 1190). As early as the 12th century this idea[154] was promulgated by Giraldus Cambrensis in his "Topographia Hiberniæ." Gerarde, who in the year 1597 published his "Herball, or Generall Historie of Plantes," narrates the following: "There are found in the north parts of Scotland, and the isles adjacent called Orcades, certain trees, whereon do grow certain shell-fishes, of a white color, tending to russet, wherein are contained little living creatures; which shells in time of maturity do open, and out of them grow those little living things which, falling into the water, do become fowls, whom we call barnacles, in the north of England brant geese, and in Lancashire tree geese; but the others that do fall upon the land perish, and do come to nothing. Thus much of the writings of others, and also from the mouths of people of those parts, which may very well accord with truth. But what our eyes have seen and hands have touched, we shall declare. There is a small island in Lancashire called the Pile of Foulders, wherein are found the broken pieces of old ships, some whereof have been cast thither by shipwreck, and also the trunks or bodies, with the branches, of old rotten trees, cast up there likewise, whereon is found a certain spume or froth, that in time breedeth into certain shells, in shape like those of the mussel, but sharper pointed, and of a whitish color: wherein is contained a thing in form like a lace of silk, one end whereof is fastened unto the inside of the shell, even as the fish of oysters and mussels are. The other end is made fast unto the belly of a rude mass or lump, which in time cometh to the shape and form of a bird; when it is perfectly formed the shell gapeth open, and the first thing that appeareth is the foresaid lace or string; next come the legs of the bird hanging out, and as it groweth greater it openeth the shell by degrees, till at length it is all come forth and hangeth only by the bill. In short space after it cometh to full maturity, and falleth into the sea, where it gathereth feathers and groweth to a fowl, bigger than a mallard, and lesser than a goose; having black legs and bill, or beak, and feathers black and white, spotted in such a manner as is our magpie, which the people of Lancashire call by no other name than a tree goose." An interesting cut of these birds so growing is given by Mr. Halliwell-Phillipps from a manuscript of the 14th century, who is of opinion that the barnacle mentioned by Caliban was the tree-goose. It is not to be supposed, however, that there were none who doubted this marvellous story, or who took steps to refute it. Belon, so long ago as 1551, says Mr. Harting,[155] and others after him, treated it with ridicule, and a refutation may be found in Willughby's "Ornithology," which was edited by Ray in 1678.[156] This vulgar error is mentioned by many of the old writers. Thus Bishop Hall, in his "Virgidemiarum" (lib. iv. sat. 2), says:

"The Scottish barnacle, if I might choose, That of a worme doth waxe a winged goose."

[152] See Harland and Wilkinson's "Lancashire Folk-Lore," 1867, pp. 116-121; "Notes and Queries," 1st series, vol. viii. p. 224; "Penny Cyclopædia," vol. vii. p. 206, article "Cirripeda."

[153] Nares's "Glossary," 1872, vol. i. p. 56.

[154] See Harting's "Ornithology of Shakespeare," 1871, pp. 246-257.

[155] "Ornithology of Shakespeare," 1871, p. 252.

[156] See "Philosophical Transactions" for 1835; Darwin's "Monograph of the Cirrhipedia," published by the Ray Society; a paper by Sir J. Emerson Tennent in "Notes and Queries," 1st series, vol. viii. p. 223; Brand's "Popular Antiquities," 1849, vol. iii. pp. 361, 362; Douce's "Illustrations of Shakespeare," 1839, p. 14.

Butler, too, in his "Hudibras" (III. ii. l. 655), speaks of it; and Marston, in his "Malecontent" (1604), has the following: "Like your Scotch barnacle, now a block, instantly a worm, and presently a great goose."

_Blackbird._ This favorite is called, in the "Midsummer-Night's Dream" (iii. 1) an ousel (old French, _oisel_), a term still used in the neighborhood of Leeds:

"The ousel cock, so black of hue, With orange-tawny bill."

In "2 Henry IV." (iii. 2) when Justice Shallow inquires of Justice Silence, "And how doth my cousin?" he is answered: "Alas, a black ousel,[157] cousin Shallow," a phrase which, no doubt, corresponded to our modern one, "a black sheep." In Spenser's "Epithalamium" (l. 82), the word occurs:

"The ousel shrills, the ruddock warbles soft."

[157] See Yarrell's "History of British Birds," 2d edition, vol. i. p. 218; "Dialect of Leeds," 1862, p. 329. In "Hamlet" (iii. 2), some modern editions read "ouzle;" the old editions all have _weasel_, which is now adopted.

_Buzzard._ Mr. Staunton suggests that in the following passage of the "Taming of the Shrew" (ii. 1) a play is intended upon the words, and that in the second line "buzzard" means a beetle, from its peculiar buzzing noise:

"_Pet._ O slow-wing'd turtle! shall a buzzard take thee?

_Kath._ Ay, for a turtle, as he takes a buzzard."

The beetle was formerly called a buzzard; and in Staffordshire, a cockchafer is termed a hum-buz. In Northamptonshire we find a proverb, "I'm between a hawk and a buzzard," which means, "I don't know what to do, or how to act."[158]

[158] Miss Baker's "Northamptonshire Glossary," 1854, vol. i. p. 94. See Nares's "Glossary," 1872, vol. i. p. 124; and "Richard III.," i. 1.

_Chaffinch._ Some think that this bird is alluded to in the song in the "Midsummer-Night's Dream" (iii. 1), where the expression "finch" is used; the chaffinch having always been a favorite cage-bird with the lower classes.[159] In "Troilus and Cressida" (v. 1) Thersites calls Patroclus a "finch-egg," which was evidently meant as a term of reproach. Others, again, consider the phrase as equivalent to coxcomb.

[159] Harting's "Ornithology of Shakespeare," p. 144; Halliwell-Phillipps's "Handbook Index to Shakespeare," 1866, p. 187. The term finch, also, according to some, may mean either the bullfinch or goldfinch.

_Chough._ In using this word Shakespeare probably, in most cases, meant the jackdaw;[160] for in "A Midsummer-Night's Dream" (iii. 2) he says:

"russet-pated choughs, many in sort, Rising and cawing at the gun's report;"

the term russet-pated being applicable to the jackdaw, but not to the real chough. In "1 Henry IV." (v. 1). Prince Henry calls Falstaff _chewet_--"Peace, chewet, peace"--in allusion, no doubt, to the chough or jackdaw, for common birds have always had a variety of names.[161] Such an appellation would be a proper reproach to Falstaff, for his meddling and impertinent talk. Steevens and Malone, however, finding that _chewets_ were little round pies made of minced meat, thought that the Prince compared Falstaff, for his unseasonable chattering, to a minced pie. Cotgrave[162] describes the French _chouette_ as an owlet; also, a "chough," which many consider to be the simple and satisfactory explanation of _chewet_. Belon, in his "History of Birds" (Paris, 1855), speaks of the _chouette_ as the smallest kind of chough or crow. Again, in "1 Henry IV." (ii. 2), in the amusing scene where Falstaff, with the Prince and Poins, meet to rob the travellers at Gadshill, Falstaff calls the victims "fat chuffs," probably, says Mr. Harting, who connects the word with chough, from their strutting about with much noise. Nares,[163] too, in his explanation of _chuff_, says, that some suppose it to be from chough, which is similarly pronounced, and means a kind of sea-bird, generally esteemed a stupid one. Various other meanings are given. Thus, Mr. Gifford[164] affirms that _chuff_ is always used in a bad sense, and means "a coarse, unmannered clown, at once sordid and wealthy;" and Mr. Halliwell-Phillipps explains it as spoken in contempt for a fat person.[165] In Northamptonshire,[166] we find the word chuff used to denote a person in good condition, as in Clare's "Village Minstrel:"

"His chuff cheeks dimpling in a fondling smile."

[160] See Yarrell's "History of British Birds," 2d edition, vol. ii. p. 58.

[161] Nares's "Glossary," vol. i. p. 156; Singer's "Shakespeare," 1875, vol. v. p. 115; Dyce's "Glossary," 1876, p. 77.

[162] Mr. Dyce says that if Dr. Latham had been acquainted with the article "Chouette," in Cotgrave, he would not probably have suggested that Shakespeare meant here the lapwing or pewit. Some consider the magpie is meant. See Halliwell-Phillipps's "Handbook Index to Shakespeare," 1866, p. 83. Professor Newton would read "russet-patted," or "red-legged," thinking that Shakespeare meant the chough.

[163] "Glossary," vol. i. p. 162; Singer's "Notes to Shakespeare," 1875, vol. v. p. 42.

[164] Massinger's Works, 1813, vol. i. p. 281.

[165] "Handbook Index to Shakespeare," 1866, p. 86.

[166] Miss Baker's "Northamptonshire Glossary," 1854, vol. i. p. 116.

Shakespeare alludes to the practice of teaching choughs to talk, although from the following passages he does not appear to have esteemed their talking powers as of much value; for in "All's Well That Ends Well" (iv. 1), he says: "Choughs' language, gabble enough, and good enough." And in "The Tempest" (ii. 1), he represents Antonio as saying:

"There be that can rule Naples As well as he that sleeps; lords that can prate As amply and unnecessarily As this Gonzalo; I myself could make A chough of as deep chat."

Shakespeare always refers to the jackdaw as the "daw."[167] The chough or jackdaw was one of the birds considered ominous by our forefathers, an allusion to which occurs in "Macbeth" (iii. 4):

"Augurs and understood relations have, By magot-pies and choughs and rooks brought forth The secret'st man of blood."

[167] "Coriolanus," iv. 5; "Troilus and Cressida," i. 2; "Much Ado About Nothing," ii. 3; "Twelfth Night," iii. 4; "Love's Labour's Lost," v. 2, song; "1 Henry VI." ii. 4.

At the present day this bird is not without its folk-lore, and there is a Norwich rhyme to the following effect:[168]

"When three daws are seen on St. Peter's vane together, Then we're sure to have bad weather."

In the north of England,[169] too, the flight of jackdaws down the chimney is held to presage death.

[168] Swainson's "Weather-Lore," 1873, p. 240.

[169] Henderson's "Folk-Lore of Northern Counties," 1879, p. 48.

_Cock._ The beautiful notion which represents the cock as crowing all night long on Christmas Eve, and by its vigilance dispelling every kind of malignant spirit[170] and evil influence is graphically mentioned in "Hamlet" (i. 1), where Marcellus, speaking of the ghost, says:

"It faded on the crowing of the cock. Some say, that ever 'gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long. And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad; The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallow'd and so gracious is the time."

[170] See Douce's "Illustrations of Shakespeare," p. 438.

In short, there is a complete prostration of the powers of darkness; and thus, for the time being, mankind is said to be released from the influence of all those evil forces which otherwise exert such sway. The notion that spirits fly at cock-crow is very ancient, and is mentioned by the Christian poet Prudentius, who flourished in the beginning of the fourth century. There is also a hymn, said to have been composed by St. Ambrose, and formerly used in the Salisbury Service, which so much resembles the following speech of Horatio (i. 1), that one might almost suppose Shakespeare had seen it:[171]

"The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn, Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat Awake the god of day; and, at his warning, Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air, The extravagant and erring spirit hies To his confine."

[171] See Ibid.

This disappearance of spirits at cock-crow is further alluded to (i. 2):[172]

"the morning cock crew loud, And at the sound it shrunk in haste away, And vanished from our sight."

[172] See Brand's "Pop. Antiq.," 1849, vol. ii. pp. 51-57; Hampson's "Medii OEvi Kalendarium," vol. i. p. 84.

Blair, too, in his "Grave," has these graphic words:

"the tale Of horrid apparition, tall and ghastly, That walks at dead of night, or takes his stand O'er some new-open'd grave, and, strange to tell, Evanishes at crowing of the cock."

This superstition has not entirely died out in England, and a correspondent of "Notes and Queries"[173] relates an amusing legend current in Devonshire: "Mr. N. was a squire who had been so unfortunate as to sell his soul to the devil, with the condition that after his funeral the fiend should take possession of his skin. He had also persuaded a neighbor to be present on the occasion of the flaying. On the death of Mr. N. this man went, in a state of great alarm, to the parson of the parish, and asked his advice. By him he was told to fulfil his engagement, but he must be sure and carry a cock into the church with him. On the night after the funeral the man proceeded to the church, armed with the cock, and, as an additional security, took up his position in the parson's pew. At twelve o'clock the devil arrived, opened the grave, took the corpse from the coffin, and flayed it. When the operation was concluded, he held the skin up before him and remarked, 'Well, 'twas not worth coming for after all, for it is all full of holes!' As he said this the cock crew, whereupon the fiend, turning round to the man, exclaimed, 'If it had not been for the bird you have got there under your arm, I would have your skin too!' But, thanks to the cock, the man got home safe again." Various origins have been assigned to this superstition, which Hampson[174] regards as a misunderstood tradition of some Sabæan fable. The cock, he adds, which seems by its early voice to call forth the sun, was esteemed a sacred solar bird; hence it was also sacred to Mercury, one of the personifications of the sun.

[173] 1st series, vol. iii. p. 404.

[174] "Medii OEvi Kalendarium," vol. i. p. 85.

A very general amusement, up to the end of the last century, was cock-fighting, a diversion of which mention is occasionally made by Shakespeare, as in "Antony and Cleopatra" (ii. 3):

"His cocks do win the battle still of mine, When it is all to nought."

And again Hamlet says (v. 2):

"O, I die, Horatio; The potent poison quite o'er-crows my spirit"--

meaning, the poison triumphs over him, as a cock over his beaten antagonist. Formerly, cock-fighting entered into the occupations of the old and young.[175] Schools had their cock-fights. Travellers agreed with coachmen that they were to wait a night if there was a cock-fight in any town through which they passed. When country gentlemen had sat long at table, and the conversation had turned upon the relative merits of their several birds, a cock-fight often resulted, as the birds in question were brought for the purpose into the dining-room. Cock-fighting was practised on Shrove Tuesday to a great extent, and in the time of Henry VII. seems to have been practised within the precincts of court. The earliest mention of this pastime in England is by Fitzstephens, in 1191. Happily, nowadays, cock-fighting is, by law, a misdemeanor, and punishable by penalty. One of the popular terms for a cock beaten in a fight was "a craven," to which we find a reference in the "Taming of the Shrew" (ii. 1):

"No cock of mine; you crow too like a craven."

[175] Roberts's "Social History of Southern Counties of England," 1856, p. 421; see "British Popular Customs," 1876, p. 65.

We may also compare the expression in "Henry V." (iv. 7): "He is a craven and a villain else." In the old appeal or wager of battle,[176] in our common law, we are told, on the authority of Lord Coke, that the party who confessed himself wrong, or refused to fight, was to pronounce the word _cravent_, and judgment was at once given against him. Singer[177] says the term may be satisfactorily traced from _crant_, _creant_, the old French word for an act of submission. It is so written in the old metrical romance of "Ywaine and Gawaine" (Ritson, i. 133):

"Or yelde the til us als creant."

[176] Nares's "Glossary," 1872, vol. i. p. 203.

[177] Singer's "Shakespeare," 1875, vol. ix. p. 256; Halliwell-Phillipps's "Handbook Index to Shakespeare," p. 112.

And in "Richard Coeur de Lion" (Weber, ii. 208):

"On knees he fel down, and cryde, crêaunt."

It then became _cravant_, _cravent_, and at length _craven_.

In the time of Shakespeare the word _cock_ was used as a vulgar corruption or purposed disguise of the name of God, an instance of which occurs in "Hamlet" (iv. 5): "By cock, they are to blame." This irreverent alteration of the sacred name is found at least a dozen times[178] in Heywood's "Edward the Fourth," where one passage is,

"_Herald._ Sweare on this booke, King Lewis, so help you God, You mean no otherwise then you have said.

_King Lewis._ So helpe me Cock as I dissemble not."

[178] Dyce's "Glossary to Shakespeare," p. 85.

We find, too, other allusions to the sacred name, as in "cock's passion," "cock's body;" as in "Taming of the Shrew" (iv. 1): "Cock's passion, silence!" A not uncommon oath, too, in Shakespeare's time was "Cock and pie"--_cock_ referring to God, and _pie_ being supposed to mean the service-book of the Romish Church; a meaning which, says Mr. Dyce, seems much more probable than Douce's[179] supposition that this oath was connected with the making of solemn vows by knights in the days of chivalry, during entertainments at which a roasted peacock was served up. It is used by Justice Shallow ("2 Henry IV.," v. 1): "By cock and pye, sir, you shall not away to-night." We may also compare the expression in the old play of "Soliman and Perseda" (1599): "By cock and pye and mousefoot." Mr. Harting[180] says the "Cock and Pye" (_i. e._, magpie) was an ordinary ale-house sign, and may have thus become a subject for the vulgar to swear by.

[179] "Illustrations of Shakespeare," 1839, p. 290.

[180] "Ornithology of Shakespeare," p. 171.

The phrase, "Cock-a-hoop"[181]--which occurs in "Romeo and Juliet" (i. 5),

"You'll make a mutiny among my guests! You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man!"

--no doubt refers to a reckless person, who takes the cock or tap out of a cask, and lays it on the top or hoop of the barrel, thus letting all the contents of the cask run out. Formerly, a quart pot was called a hoop, being formed of staves bound together with hoops like barrels. There were generally three hoops to such a pot; hence, in "2 Henry VI." (iv. 2), one of Jack Cade's popular reformations was to increase their number: "the three-hooped pot shall have ten hoops; and I will make it felony to drink small beer." Some, however, consider the term Cock-a-hoop[182] refers to the boastful crowing of the cock.

[181] It is also an ale-house sign.

[182] See Dyce's "Glossary to Shakespeare," p. 85.

In "King Lear" (iii. 2) Shakespeare speaks of the "cataracts and hurricanoes" as having

"drenched our steeples, drowned the cocks!"

Vanes on the tops of steeples were in days gone by made in the form of a cock--hence weathercocks--and put up, in papal times, to remind the clergy of watchfulness.[183] Apart, too, from symbolism, the large tail of the cock was well adapted to turn with the wind.[184]

[183] See "Book of Days," 1863, vol. i. p. 157.

[184] In "King Lear" (iv. 6), where Edgar says:

"Yond tall anchoring bark, Diminish'd to her cock; her cock, a buoy Almost too small for sight."

the word "cock" is an abbreviation for cock-boat.

_Cormorant._ The proverbial voracity of this bird[185] gave rise to a man of large appetite being likened to it, a sense in which Shakespeare employs the word, as in "Coriolanus" (i. 1): "the cormorant belly;" in "Love's Labour's Lost" (i. 1): "cormorant devouring Time;" and in "Troilus and Cressida" (ii. 2): "this cormorant war." "Although," says Mr. Harting,[186] "Shakespeare mentions the cormorant in several of his plays, he has nowhere alluded to the sport of using these birds, when trained, for fishing; a fact which is singular, since he often speaks of the then popular pastime of hawking, and he did not die until some years after James I. had made fishing with cormorants a fashionable amusement."

[185] For superstitions associated with this bird, see Brand's "Pop. Antiq.," 1849, vol. iii. p. 218.

[186] "Ornithology of Shakespeare," p. 260.

_Crow._ This has from the earliest times been reckoned a bird of bad omen; and in "Julius Cæsar" (v. 1), Cassius, on the eve of battle, predicted a defeat, because, to use his own words:

"crows and kites Fly o'er our heads and downward look on us, As we were sickly prey: their shadows seem A canopy most fatal, under which Our army lies, ready to give up the ghost."

Allusions to the same superstition occur in "Troilus and Cressida" (i. 2); "King John" (v. 2), etc. Vergil ("Bucolic," i. 18) mentions the croaking of the crow as a bad omen:

"Sæpe sinistra cava prædixit ab ilice cornix."

And Butler, in his "Hudibras" (part ii. canto 3), remarks:

"Is it not ominous in all countries, When crows and ravens croak upon trees."

Even children, nowadays, regard with no friendly feelings this bird of ill-omen;[187] and in the north of England there is a rhyme to the following effect:

"Crow, crow, get out of my sight, Or else I'll eat thy liver and lights."

[187] See "Folk-Lore Record," 1879, vol. i. p. 52; Henderson's "Folk-Lore of Northern Counties," 1879, pp. 25, 126, 277.

Among other allusions made by Shakespeare to the crow may be noticed the crow-keeper--a person employed to drive away crows from the fields. At present,[188] in all the midland counties, a boy set to drive away the birds is said to keep birds; hence, a stuffed figure, now called a _scarecrow_, was also called a crow-keeper, as in "King Lear" (iv. 6): "That fellow handles his bow like a crow-keeper."

[188] Nares's "Glossary," vol. i. p. 208.

One of Tusser's directions for September is:

"No sooner a-sowing, but out by-and-by, With mother or boy that alarum can cry: And let them be armed with a sling or a bow, To scare away pigeon, the rook, or the crow."

In "Romeo and Juliet" (i. 4) a scarecrow seems meant:

"Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper."

Among further references to this practice is that in "1 Henry VI." (i. 4), where Lord Talbot relates that, when a prisoner in France, he was publicly exhibited in the market-place:

"Here, said they, is the terror of the French, The scarecrow that affrights our children so."[189]

[189] Cf. "Henry IV.," iv. 2.

And once more, in "Measure for Measure" (ii. 1):

"We must not make a scarecrow of the law, Setting it up to fear the birds of prey, And let it keep one shape, till custom make it Their perch and not their terror."

The phrase "to pluck a crow" is to complain good-naturedly, but reproachfully, and to threaten retaliation.[190] It occurs in "Comedy of Errors" (iii. 1): "We'll pluck a crow together." Sometimes the word _pull_ is substituted for pluck, as in Butler's "Hudibras" (part ii.