Murder of a Blackbird

A courtroom drama, set outside in a sunny woodland glade, where a sparrowhawk is on trial...

Roughed-up: the male partner of the ‘murdered’ female blackbird. Photo: Gary Firkins

Prosecutor: “Judge Nature, we bring before you the most serious of crimes, murder.

“The victim was a blackbird. The perpetrator, a sparrowhawk.

“The court will hear evidence of brutal violence in which an innocent female going about her everyday family business, preparing a nest for her second brood of the season, was mercilessly killed. Alongside her, a loyal partner who himself was injured trying to defend his mate. As we will hear, the death of a lifelong partner has left him bereft, grieving even.

“The perpetrator took flight, the victim carried away in his talons, and has not been seen since. The body of the blackbird was not recovered.

“There is only one witness, a human, by the name of Firkins. He was deeply distressed by the incident and is the sole witness to make a statement. All other birds in the vicinity were well aware of the attack, but turned to protect themselves and their own.”

Judge: “Very well, Prosecutor. Please proceed.”

Prosecutor: “The incident occurred on Saturday July 1, 2023, at 5.31pm. According to the witness statement from Mr Firkins, he heard a commotion in next door’s garden. If I may, I will read from the statement. Mr Firkins says:

‘I was upstairs putting fresh sheets on a bed when I heard a ruckus in next door’s garden. On looking out of the open window I saw a blackbird on the limestone wall that borders the neighbouring property underneath the apple trees. The bird was making that familiar high-pitched, fast clucking alarm call blackbirds make when there is danger.

‘I wondered if it was one of the pair that had recently nested in the wisteria under my bedroom window and who had spent two weeks flying in and out feeding their chicks until they fledged. I thought perhaps one of the fledglings was on the ground still being fed by the parents and had been left exposed to a prowling cat. I could hear and see the bird, a black male with yellow beak, was distressed, hysterical even. He kept hopping off the wall, fluttering down out of sight, then re-emerging. Whatever was happening, the action was on the ground. So I stopped what I was doing and hurried around to the neighbouring property. I was wholly unprepared for what I saw next.

‘As I turned the corner, looking up the gravel drive, a sparrowhawk was pinning a blackbird to the ground. The blackbird – an adult female, judging by its size and brown colour – was on its back, its wings splayed, as if being crucified. The sparrowhawk’s talons had speared its chest.

“I knew it was a male sparrowhawk from its smaller size and greyish wings which were arched outwards on the ground. It turned its head to face me. As soon as we locked eye, it immediately extended its wings and lifted itself and its prey from the ground. It turned sharply, aerobatically, one hundred and eighty degrees, and flew off in the opposite direction, under the roofed archway to the cottage where the swallows are nesting. The blackbird’s body lay limp in its grip. In an instant the sparrowhawk was gone, manoeuvring at speed through the gateway and then climbing away over houses and gardens. I cannot say if the blackbird was already dead, but its wings and head lolled hopelessly. It appeared lifeless.

‘I was shocked by what I had seen, mortified. The sparrowhawk had skewered the blackbird, murdering her on the ground in front of her partner, who I now realised had intervened to try to protect its mate. His feathers were roughed up and clumps protruded. I guessed he had jumped down from the wall to distract or collide with the sparrowhawk in an attempt to release the female, but had himself been injured in the skirmish.  

‘The male blackbird then flew up to the ridge of a pantile roof on a single storey outbuilding, where I moved to observe him in profile from five metres away or so. His ruffled feathers flicked this way and that in the breeze, his beak wide open as he continued to call loudly over the garden and surrounding roofs. It was the same series of fast, squeaky-clucking sounds, ended by a whirl of high-pitched shrieks. It was hard to know whether he was still sounding the alarm or calling desperately for his mate. Perhaps he himself didn’t know. But all was in vain; she was dead and gone.

‘I felt sickened and shocked at the violence, and deeply sad for the blackbird and wanted to comfort it, knowing he had lost his lifelong mate. I stayed for a while, to console him, and spoke softly upwards to say how sorry I was. But there was nothing more to be done, so I returned home and listened from my bedroom window as the blackbird continued to call repeatedly, desperately, for another 14 minutes, before flying away. I sat on the edge of an unmade bed wondering, do birds grieve the loss of a mate?’

Judge: “Thank you, Prosecutor. On that last point, I understand you have a written statement from an expert witness, John Marzluff, professor of avian social ecology and wildlife science at the University of Washington*. Please can we hear that now.

Prosecutor: “Of course. Prof. Marzluff says, ‘Birds certainly possess the capacity to mourn – they have the same brain areas, hormones, and neurotransmitters as we do, so they too can feel what we feel, but that doesn’t mean we know when it’s happening...’

Defense: “Objection, Your Honour!”

Judge: “Sustained. Defense, please make your point.”

Defense: “Prof. Marzluff is not saying that birds grieve, but that they have the capacity to.

“If I’m not mistaken, Prof. Marzluff also says that, ‘Grief would need to be measured through the vista of a brain scan: If the mother’s hippocampus – the region in bird brains that is comparable to the emotional hub in mammal brains – lights up, that might indicate grief.’

“So while there are many stories of birds appearing to mourn – like two Emperor Penguins nudging their dead chick during a BBC documentary, corvids gathering for roadside funerals and the case of a female osprey appearing to cry after her two newborn chicks were taken by a bald eagle – there is no absolute evidence of grief. In fact, Prof. Marzluff says that without brain scans, we cannot make, ‘rock solid interpretations.’ And if I may continue, Your Honour…

Judge: “Please do...”

Defense: “It is important we don’t see these incidents through the lens of human understanding. Mr Firkins’ emotional response is very touching, I’m sure, but his sentiment is misplaced.

“Frankly, to put a sparrowhawk on trial for the murder of a blackbird is preposterous. How on earth is a creature supposed to sustain itself if it does not eat? It just so happens that the blackbird is a significant part of its diet.

“If I may pose a rhetorical question, is the sparrowhawk decimating blackbird numbers? Absolutely not. There are more than five million breeding pairs of blackbirds in the UK, which is why it is known as a common garden bird. In fact, the presence of both blackbirds and sparrowhawks is a positive sign.

“The sparrowhawk’s nature is to hunt birds for food in the same way blackbirds hunt and eat insects and worms.  At this time of year, the male sparrowhawk is likely to be hunting to feed not only his chicks but his partner, too. Once the chicks fledge, both parents will hunt to feed the young for up to a month.

“Let’s not forget that the sparrowhawk was persecuted and almost became extinct in eastern counties of the UK a few decades ago. Pesticides, too, took their toll, thinning the shells of eggs in the nest, preventing hatching. Now, there are 30,500 breeding pairs of sparrowhawks in the UK and they are among our most common birds of prey.

“We should not fall into the trap of seeing sparrowhawks as pests – we should celebrate them. Their masterful aerobatics and fast flying in confined spaces, taking their prey by surprise in dense woodland and gardens is something to behold. They are among our most amazing birds.

“So it is sad that even a respected bird charity has to respond to questions from those who resent the sparrowhawk by putting up a website page on how to deter them from gardens, including erecting bamboo canes to create an obstacle course for these fast-flyers and hanging CDs and half-filled plastic water bottles from branches.

“In summary, the sparrowhawk is simply predating blackbirds to sustain itself, its partner and young. In no way can this be classified as murder and to convict the accused as such would be a gross miscarriage of natural justice.”

Judge: “Thank you. Prosecutor, anything to add before I summarise and make my judgement?”

Prosecutor: “Thank you, your Honour. Only to add that Mr Firkins observed that the male returned to the abandoned nest in the wisteria under his bedroom window that night, and that the bird was first to sing, vigorously, at dawn chorus at 3.49am the following morning. Mr Firkins remained deeply affected the following day.”

Judge: “Thank you. I will now give my judgement.

“Undoubtedly, the blackbird is a much loved bird among human garden dwellers, including Mr Firkins. No one would deny its rich, uplifting song. Perhaps it is because they are monogamous that blackbirds are especially loved by humans, as they capture something of their romantic ideal.

“Sparrowhawk pairs stay together for a season and their relationship may appear to be transactional compared to blackbirds, but they are nevertheless committed to each other and their young for that time, as is their instinct.

“While there may well be some indication, if not evidence, of monogamous birds grieving the death of a mate, chick or one of their community, humans would do well to remember that it does not take blackbirds long to begin a search for a new partner. Indeed, the vocal contribution to dawn chorus of this particular male blackbird the following morning may well be a sign that his immediate focus was to find a new mate, not grieve the passing of his previous one, however long they may have been together.

“It would not be without precedent for a male blackbird to find a new mate within a matter of hours, if not days. If there is a period of mourning it is, shall we say, short lived.

“Summing up, the predation of blackbirds by sparrowhawks is entirely natural. My judgement in relation to the charge of murder in the case of ‘Blackbird versus Sparrowhawk’ is that I find the defendant not guilty.

“Finally, while I thank Mr Firkins for his witness statement, might I suggest he refrains from judging the natural world by human codes of behaviour and sentiment. His empathetic grief for the blackbird, secret admiration of the sparrowhawk and taste for game pie at the local pub is entirely inconsistent and conflicted. I judge him to be an unreliable witness. That is all I have to say on the matter.”

Clerk: “The court will rise.”

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*Source: Audubon, Do Birds Grieve?