Sparrow is apparently derived from the Anglo-Saxon spearwa , with roots from the Icelandic Sporr meaning ‘Flutterer’. This is also the basis for a number of local names inc: Spadger, Sprig, Sprug, Sprong (variously: Roxburgh, Perth, East Lothian) and Spyng (Kirkcudbright). Aka: Craff (Cumberland), Row-Dow or Roo-Doo (Northants), Thatch or Thack Sparrow (Northants, Salop), and Easing Sparrow (Salop: from eaves) and Philip or Phip from its call.

As a once common bird, and one associated with human habitation, it has a bit of folklore with which I can regale (?) you. In Kent, it was believed that if you caught a Sparrow you must not leave it alive, otherwise the parents of the catcher would die. Now, as there strangely appears to be no time limit on this one, it is another sure-fire prediction. Sparrows have also been credited with prophetic powers:

" Look, my dear " said S's wife to him one morning as he lay in bed. "look at that kite flying round the room! ” He saw nothing, but heard a noise like a large bird flapping its wings. A few minutes afterwards a sparrow came, dashed its bill against the window, and flew away again. " Oh! .... " said Mrs. S. " ..... something is the matter with poor Edward " (her brother ). She had hardly said the word when a man on horseback rode up and said, when S. opened the door to him, " Don't frighten poor Mary, but master has just expired ! " The messenger had only ridden from Somers Town to Compton Street , Soho.

Kelly (1863) in Curiosities of Indo-European Folk-Lore, pp. 104 , 105. says that he had this story from ‘S’ himself who was possessed of the notion that the sparrow that tapped at his window was the soul of his brother-in-law ".

I am not wholly sure what this tells us about the beliefs of earlier folk really, but I did note that the chapter following this one in the book is titled ‘The Psychopomp of Cows and Dogs’. Yes, yes, I had to look that one up. It’s apparently derived from the Greek for the ‘guide of the souls'. In Jungian psychology it is also said to be a mediator between the unconscious and conscious realms. Now that’s a nice circular coincidence, because I think psychology is basically the steaming stuff you find laying on the ground behind male cows. Anyway, in this chapter is a bit on ‘death omens from cows’. As I have a load in the field next door, who look at me oddly sometimes when I go for a walk, I decided not to read that bit. Sometimes ignorance has a lot to commend it. The things you learn here!

Where were we, Oh yes, Sparras, that’s right.

Previously known regionally as: Spink, pinkety, pink, pink twink, chink chaffey, chink chink amongst many others for its tedious and monotonous call or, variously, white wing, white finch, pea- pied- abd pine-finch, shilfa, skelly shel or sheld for its plumage and colours. Current common name derives from its appearance in large numbers during threshing and picking over the chaff for grain. Although, largely over-looked perhaps because of the ubiquity they are strikingly colourful and active, giving rise to the proverb 'as gay as a chaffinch'.

I have a kind of pet theory that if chaffies were extremely rare, or a very occasional migrant, 'birdwatchers' would flock to admire them!

Seeing 'real' chaffinches strip seed from wild grasses makes a pleasant change from watching them squabbling and bickering noisily on my garden feeder.

Large head and generally compact 'butch' morphology, gives us the current name, as in Bullhead and Bulldog. Earlier names inc: Hoop, Hope (Somerset to Cornwall), Olf (Suffolk), Nope Stafford) Mwope (Dorset), Mawp Lancs) and Pope (Dorset), all derivatives of Alp, used for the bird during the time of John Ray (1627-1705 (one of the English 'pastor naturalists') .

The red of the male gave us Red Hoop (Dorset) and Blood Olp (Norfolk) whereas the brown of the matching parts of the female give Tawny, Tony Hoop and Tonnihood (Somerset). The sleek glossy black head gives rise to Black cap (Lincoln) Billy Black Cap, Black Nob (Salop) together with Monk and Coal Hood.

Non-colouration derived names inc: Plum Bird or Plum Budder, Bud Bird, Bud Finch, Bud Picker for its habit of eating the new buds of tree bushes etc. see illustration below.

Let us not forget that only last century Bullfinches were slaughtered in their thousands (I refuse to use the sanitised 'culled', it was slaughter, plain and simple) to 'protect' orchids. Ironically, MAFF did the same thing to orchids a decade or so later. So now we have no home-grown apples plums etc, and very few Bullfinches. Well done chaps. Lots of sterile arable fields though, lovely.

Goldie, Goldspink, Goolfrench, Redcap, King Harry; Seven-coloured linnet; Speckled Dick, Pround Tailor, Foolscoat, Sherriff's Man and, delightfully, Lady with Twelve Flounces are amongst the numerous regional names given to this bird's colouration. It's like of thistle seed gave rise to Thistle finch and possibly Jack Nicker.

According to George-Louis Leclerc (1707-1788) '...beauty of plumage, melody of song, sagacity and docility of disposition seem all united in this charming little bird.... :. Well, I can't do better than that, so I simply won't try except to add the collective name is a 'charm', how lovely.

As this species had quite a restricted range in the UK during Victorian and Edwardian times very few regional English names are noted. However, Aberdavine, possibly derived from Alder-finch, and Barley-bird were used, undoubtedly for eating, you guessed it, alder and barley respectively. 'Siskin' probably derives from the Swedish for 'chirper'. In parts of Europe mythology says it can procure a stone that renders its owner invisible, perhaps that why they weren't seen much. I keep looking.

Once limited to the Caledonian forest of Scotland increasing areas of conifer plantation led to rapid population growth and expanding range. Noted as only becoming a visitor to gardens since the 1960s where seed feeders presumably offer easy delights for both bird and watcher. Despite their small size they are feisty little chaps and only cede dominance on a bird feeder to much larger birds, even then not submissively.

It’s colour also gave rise to numerous local names: Green Linnet (Norfolk, Lancs, and Scotland), Green Bird, Green Olf (Norfolk again, clearly can’t make up their minds), Green Grosbeak, Greeney (Forfar, Cumberland) and Peasweep (perhaps because its call resembles that of a peewit?).

Swainson relates no folklore: so it seems, this species was, rather unusually, neither able to tell the weather or was associated with the Devil’s works in anyway. Must be unique in fact.

Given its limited distribution before widespread plantations the only regional English names recorded by Swainson (1885) are Shell-apple and German Parrot, the former for records of the birds splitting apples in half just to get the seeds and leaving the rest. He does note the linking of its crossed bill with the cross of christ in many legends, and reports that peasants in Thuringia often kept the birds owing to a belief they could take-on (i.e effectively cure) disease.

Now, interestingly, well to me at least, the current name ‘yellowhammer’ derives as a corruption of Yellow ammer, the latter being akin to the German word for ‘bunting’ Finding that bit out explained over half a century of mystery to me, although I presume not too much of one considering I clearly never bothered to find out before. Fairly predictably, most earlier regional names derive from its colour, as in: Yellow Amber Yellow Omber (Salop), Yellow Yowley, Yellow Yeldrin and Yellow Yite (both from Scotland). A number of other colour-orientated names like Yeldrock, Yeling, Yowley, Yolling, Gladdie (from gladde=bright: Devon, Cronwall), Blakeling (Northumberland) and Bessie-Blakelin (Westmorland). The Gaelic name Buidheag-Bhearaidh means yellow broom.

Of course many names, mostly cheerful, result from its call, we have the well known Little-bread-no-cheese (Devon) and variants such as Bread and Cheese (Salop) and the ‘Little bit a’ bread but no cheese I learned in Norfolk. Now, from Gloucestershire we get Pretty Pretty Creature and, yup, from those cheerful folk in Scotland we have, I kid you not, the truly delightful De’il, de’il, de’il tak’ you. I mean seriously guys how bitter does one have to be to hear a Yellowhammer singing and think of the devil taking you. I don’t know. Maybe it’s all that running through Gorse bushes in a skirt with nothing underneath that creates all this angst.

Actually, no I’m wrong. It has nowt to do with thorn-shredded testes. This latter bit of misery relates to Scottish folklore. According to Robert Chambers (Popular Rhymes of Scotland, 1870) the Yellowhammer is called the ‘Devil’s Bird in the north of Scotland and is the subject of an unaccountable superstition amongst the peasantry that it drinks a drop of blood of the Devil every morning in May, although some thought 3 drops and some said only on Monday mornings. Apparently, Scotch children, had a rhyme:

      "Half a paddock, half a toad,
       Half a yellow yorling
       Drinks a drap o' the de'il's bluid
       Every May morning."

He goes on to relate that these lovely Scotch children hang all the yellow ammers they can get by the neck. They often take the bare “gorbals" (unfIedged young), and suspend them by a thread tied round the neck to one end of a crossbeam, which has a small stone hung from the other. They then suddenly strike down the stone end and drive the poor bird into the air. This operation they call "spangie-hewit." "Hewit," seems derived from the old Anglo-Saxon heafod the head. "Spang" is to fly off with elasticity; to make the head spring or fly off.

I think we’ll stop there, before I’m sick. What a delightful species we are. Oh, before I do, let me relate a note from Thomas Bewich (1826) '.. this bird is common in every hedge or lane'. Well they aint any more, yet another triumph for MAFF and British agricultural polices that actually paid farmers (using your money) to destroy hedgerows.

I’m not a great lover of moustaches, I grew one once, when very young and foolish, and I’ve seen the pictures. The male Reed Bunting carries one off with far far more style.

It’s habit gives us a couple of older names, viz. Reed Sparrow (Notts) and Water Sparrow (Salop), corresponding respectively to the French Moineau des joncs and Moineau d'eau . Its colouration, well that of the male, lying behind many more with the bright white collar giving Ring Bird, Ring Bunting and Ring Fowl (Aberdeen). The males obvious black head gave Black-headed Bunting, Black Bonnet, Coaly Head (Scotland) Black Coaly-Hood (South Scotland), Colin Blackbeard (Renfrew: and my favourite) Black Cap (Craven, Hants). The female got her own name of Spear Sparrow (Hants). A couple of non-plumage derived names were Chink (Scotland, for its call, not racist) and, finally, Toad Snatcher.