Walter Deane (1848-1930) Papers; Journal, 1896-1899. Botany Libraries, Archives of the Gray Herbarium, Harvard University Herbaria, Cambridge, Mass.

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Passer domesticus. Massachusetts 1898 Nov. 28 I witnessed this afternoon a strange one sided fight between two male English Sparrows. I was in the Museum building working, and I had occasion to go to the N.E. window of the study, to get a book. Hearing a louding, distressed chirping I looked out of the window. The snow was lying smooth and deep after yesterday's storm. A couple of rods from the window on the snow were two ♂ {male} English Sparrows. One was most vigorously attacking the other. How long he had been at work I do not know. The attacking bird was on top of the other pecking most viciously about its head. The under bird was fluttering and trying hard to escape. The attack had evidently been going on for some little time for the feathers on the head of the bird attacked were all awry, and when the poor creature got partially free for a few seconds, he could only flutter over the snow a few feet, before his opponent was fastened on his back again, pressing his down on to the snow and pecking at his head. I have never seen a more persistent and cold-blooded attack even among the larger animals. The defenceless victim's wings quivered as they spread outstretched on the snow, while his opponent pecked and pecked, occasionally lifting his head

Passer domesticus Massachusetts 1898 Nov. 28 (No. 2) and opening and shutting his bill as if swallowing something that he had pecked off. For fifteen minutes this went on. During the last five minutes the poor ever-weakening bird did not move beyond could do nothing but quivering and at times raiseing his head only to be more heartlessly attacked.

Two or three times, one, two or three English Sparrows would fly down and sit round the ring as it were, but no attempt to rescue the under man or in any way to interfere was made. The bird were never more than twenty feet from me, and with my glass I saw everything distinctly. At last when a quarter of an hour had elapsed the victorious bird left his prey and flew to the crabapple tree where he sat for a moment chirping triumphantly. Soon he flew away and I saw him no more.

I then went out and picked up the mangled bird from the snow where he was lying still motionless. He was still alive but his head was frightfully wounded. Over half of the feathers of the head were pulled out and the flesh was torn off on the forehead. The whole top of the skull was red & bloody. Half of the lower mandible was actually gone. I put the bird out of his misery and felt that I had one more unattractive quality to add to the many possessed by the English Sparrow. Walter Deane