The robin is one of our favourite garden birds – and never more so than in hard weather. Naturally tame, these colourful songbirds willingly visit feeding stations and it’s not difficult to tempt them to take choice morsels from an outstretched palm . . .
The cheery image of a beady-eyed, friendly robin, its bright red chest contrasting beautifully with snow seems to epitomise warmth and goodwill in the depths of winter. But of course nothing could be further from the truth. Robins are the avian equivalent of a pumped-up binge drinker. Both males and femals are highly-sexed and constantly spoiling for a fight. Ideally they like scrapping with one of their own kind, but anything will do – even red knickers on the washing line!
This aggression stems from an intensely territorial nature. Each bird claims a patch of hedge, tree or shrub where it bellows out its ownership in song. The instinct is so strong that both sexes sing all year. True, in early winter this is weak, but it increases in strength in the New Year. By April it has become one of the most garden songsters – but then the nightingale is a close relative.
The red plumage which makes them so immediately identifiable is also important. It acts as a threat, pushed out towards any intruder to display appear as large as possible. This is often enough, but if the song and posturing fail to make the point, then violence is the answer. At first this is simply trying to knock the intruder from its perch, but this can easily degenerate into a gutter brawl, with both birds aiming vicious pecks at the other’s eyes. Blinding and even death are not unknown.
If all this seems to have little to do with the spirit of Christmas, the link with the festive season is fair in at least one respect. It is then that the female initiates the breeding cycle by invading a neighbouring male’s territory. A fight usually ensues, but if he proves his strength, she will remain in his patch. The cock then redoubles his frenzied song and becomes even more aggressive as his mate incubates the clutch of half-a-dozen eggs. These hatch after just a fortnight and both parents work frantically to supply the rich diet of insects and worms that are vital for rapid growth. The young fledge after just two weeks and within three weeks will have been driven off by their parents who are anxious to start the cycle all over again.
As a result, in a good year the pair can raise five broods, but life is brutish for the youngsters. It is significant that they leave the nest much drabber than their parents. Toning down the natural warning signal on the chest reduces adult aggression as they learn to fend for themselves. It soon deepens, however, and as others begin to see them as rivals, they are initiated into the adult’s violent world.
Despite their constant simmering aggression towards others, robins are likely to remain one of our favourite birds, not least because they can become remarkably tame. They readily feed at bird tables, preferring fatty foods like suet, grated cheese and mealworms, but will also lurk near gardeners: picking up insects and worms disturbed during digging. Indeed, with patience and a handful of choice titbits, they will even feed from the hand.
All this makes for a fascinating picture, but still does little to explain the robin’s connection Christmas. This is probably linked to the uniforms of 19th century postmen who wore bright red waistcoats and were thus nick-named ‘redbreasts’. As Christmas approached and the postman’s daily visit meant greetings from old friends and presents from relatives rather than bills, so the bird became associated with the season.
Please click here if you would like to join our Newsletter mailing list