The weeping robin - By Rasbak (Own work) [GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html) or CC-BY-SA-3.0-2.5-2.0-1.0 (www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons |
"A remarkable instance of credulity in robin-lore came to my notice in 1891. The following was told me by an educated lady, whose temperament is in no way morbid or hysterical ; but is in herself bright, cheerful, and religious. The sight of a robin carries her memory back to some of the saddest days of her life. Here is her story :
" In 1848 I was staying with my grandparents at Ashburton, in Devonshire. My grandmother, having a severe cold, went early to bed, and the weather being oppressively hot, the window was left open. Presently a robin, dishevelled and melancholy, flew into the room and perched on the towel-rail. No amount of persuasion could dislodge him, and at last all efforts to eject him were abandoned. He continued his sad weep, weep, weep, for at least an hour, when he quietly flew out of the window. That night grannie died. Again, in 1851, a robin, just as unhappy and forlorn as the former one, flew into my father's bedroom, exhibiting every sign of dejection. Nor would he be easily driven off, but sought the tester of the bed, where he continued his weep, weep, weep. That night my father died.
"Again, in the autumn of 1884, while on a visit to Dawlish with my husband and children, we often took our books and work into the garden. One evening, as usual, we were in the summer-house, the children playing noisily, when a robin flew into their midst, and hopped on the table, finally perching himself on the handle of my work-basket. A more pitiable dejected little birdie could not be imagined, his feathers were ruffled and touselled, and both wings drooped to his feet. There he sat, uttering his dolorous weep, weep, weep, for several minutes ; when we rose to go into the house he followed, sometimes fluttering along before us in the path, at others flitting from bush to bush close at our side. Even after we had closed the window we heard him on the shrubs outside, still pathetically uttering his doleful weep, weep, weep. The next morning my dear husband, who had gone along the Strand for a stroll while I dressed the children for a walk, dropped suddenly dead, and was brought home within a quarter of an hour after leaving the house. Can you wonder at my having a dread of a visit from a robin, after these pitiful experiences?""
Hewett 1900
Map - Ashburton
Map - Dawlish
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