Three Singing Squirrels
A miniature ormolu squirrel cage. http://www.liveauctioneers.com/item/25105993_erhard-and-sohne-squirrel-cage
We turn from the mirror worlds of the Spiritualists to the animal kingdom. There has been a fair bit of research done on the so-called “singing mice.” Jonathan Downes of the Centre for Fortean Zoology compiled a particularly thorough list of the creatures in the 1997 edition of Fortean Studies. Here’s an online discussion of some 1930s singing mice from Cryptozoology Online.
Less well-known, except on YouTube videos, are the singing squirrels. Here is a trio of examples, the first from 1897, although to be fair, does a single note count as a “song?”
A SINGING SQUIRREL
The Queer Little Songster That a Gunner Found in the Woods
[New York Sun.]
“You have heard of singing mice, no doubt,” said S.K. Sanford, formerly of Dover, N.H., “Not long ago I read several interesting accounts of them in the Sun. I have never heard a singing mouse, but I heard a singing squirrel. It was several years ago that, while gunning one day in the woods near Dover, N.H., my attention was drawn to what seemed the singing of a bird somewhere among the branches at a little distance away. The note was so peculiar that I turned my steps towards the sound to see what species of bird was making it. It was some time before I could trace the note to its source. Then I found out that it came from a red squirrel, sitting upright on a bough, singing away as if in love with its own melody. At sight of me he stopped, but as I remained perfectly still he presently piped up again.
“As to the quality of his melody, I should compare it to the single note of a canary unusually prolonged, with no variations except in rising or falling and increased or decreased in volume. It may have been a call to a mate; it certainly had nothing in it of the scolding character associated with the chattering of the Northern red squirrel. There was no movement of the throat that I could discover in the production of the sound. From time to time he would stop his singing, and presently, after three or four minutes, would start up again; always in the beginning with a low note, which increased in volume until shortly before the next pause. I remained on the spot a half hour listening and went away leaving the squirrel singing away with as vigorous a note as ever. Cincinnati [OH] Enquirer 11 April 1897: p. 17
The second story comes from 1904, written by Mrs. Effie Bignell, the titles of whose other works: “My Woodland Intimates” and “Mrs Chupes and Miss Jenny,” hint at the sap within.
I had been told of singing mice—little creatures who softly and pleasingly warble and trill—and had often wished that some fortunate chance might put me in the way of assisting at one of their concerts. But I now have in my possession what is far more rare than a singing mouse, and that is a singing squirrel. I search in vain for some single representative of the feathered tribe through the mention of whose voice it would be possible to convey an idea of the nature and scope of Adelina’s tones (Adelina she became, by the way, on the discovery of her remarkable gift) [after Adelina Patti, the opera star], but there is in them a suggestion of various bird voices, perhaps the most distinct being those which resemble the goldfinch’s call and the sad autumn notes of the bluebird.
But in spite of the fact that Adelina has broken silence, she is evidently no less sorrowful than formerly, and, according to my interpretation, the plaintive voice is ever singing: “Si je n’étais captive!” A Quintette of Graycoats, Mrs. Effie Molt Bignell, 1904
That would be “La Captive,” a song by Hector Berlioz with words by Victor Hugo that the anthropomorphising Mrs. Bignell put into the mouth of her tuneful squirrel.
Squirrels were surprisingly popular pets in the American colonies from the 18th century through the discovery of rabies and special rotating metal cages were made to keep them, like the one pictured at the beginning of the post, but I have never heard of them being hung up in the parlor like songbirds. The singing seems an intermittent phenomenon.
The White House grounds housed a celebrity singing squirrel in the 1920s.
Singing Squirrel Found by Police At White House
Private Ernest Seamon of the White House police force, stationed in the executive office, narrowing escaped being placed in the Ananias Club and being branded for all time as a nature fakir, when he told those whom he met yesterday of discovering a musical squirrel in the White House grounds.
This courageous policeman was saved from disgrace by Charles Hard, appointment clerk of the executive office, and Charles Thompson, one of the White House messengers, who declared that they could substantiate the claims of discovery made by Seamon.
According to the latter, he was leaving the executive office late Sunday afternoon. The grounds were deserted and all was quiet. As he passed close to the beautiful old acacia tree on the knoll beside the west gate to the grounds he was attracted by warbling that, according to Seamon, sounded something like a catbird, only more tuneful and sweeter. Seamon, who claims to be at heart a lover of nature and music, stopped to listen. He was then joined by Thompson, who, like Seamon, was impressed with the clear, melodious notes.
“That’s too musical for a catbird,” Thompson suggested.
“Probably it is a cultivated mocking bird,” Seamon decided, but the argument as to the identity of the soloist was brought to an abrupt end when little “Piggy,” the peg squirrel of the executive office appeared from behind the trunk of the Acacia, and after a friendly grin at her audience, perched herself against the tree trunk and resumed the singing.
According to Seamon’s word, with one hand on his breast at the time he gave it, “Piggy,” resumed her concert. She let out high notes and low notes with equal clarity and tunefulness. All the while the two men stood looking on in amazement. Their confusion was not relieved until a moment or so later when Appointment Clerk Hard joined them and assured them that singing squirrels were nothing out of the ordinary, at least not in Ohio, his home state.
“They may be common in Ohio,” Seamon replied, “but they are brand new around here.” Evening Star [Washington DC] 26 September 1922: p. 2
Piggy was something of a celebrity during President Harding’s administration. She would visit cabinet meetings and nose around in cabinet members’ pockets for peanuts. When the President’s dog “Laddie Boy” killed a squirrel on the White House grounds and Piggy was seen no more, it was thought that she had been the victim. Supposedly obituaries were written for the squirrel, but she reappeared several months later with a nest of babies and went back to panhandling in White House offices.
I will note that I’m from Ohio and although Ohio rejoices in the black squirrels of Kent and the albino squirrels of Bowling Green, the statement that singing squirrels are common in the Buckeye State is brand news to me.
Have you ever heard a squirrel sing? Why do they do it and what is the mechanism? Any other historic singing squirrels? chriswoodyard8 AT gmail.com
Chris Woodyard is the author of The Victorian Book of the Dead, The Ghost Wore Black, The Headless Horror, The Face in the Window, and the 7-volume Haunted Ohio series. She is also the chronicler of the adventures of that amiable murderess Mrs Daffodil in A Spot of Bother: Four Macabre Tales. The books are available in paperback and for Kindle. Indexes and fact sheets for all of these books may be found by searching hauntedohiobooks.com. Join her on FB at Haunted Ohio by Chris Woodyard or The Victorian Book of the Dead.