Everything below is reproduced verbatim from four classic accounts of the blue jay — Forbush’s Birds of Massachusetts (1927), Alexander Wilson’s American Ornithology, Bendire’s Life Histories of North American Birds (1895) and, as a brief counter-voice, Audubon’s Ornithological Biography (1834) — with nothing of ours added but the headings, the table and this sentence.

ON SALE - SAVE $59

The Camera Feeder We Use In Our Own Backyard

See Today's Price

We earn a commission if you make a purchase, at no additional cost to you. 10/20/2026 10:00 am GMT ⓘ

An engaging rascal

Haunts and Habits. The handsome, active Blue Jay is an engaging rascal. Where there are Blue Jays, there always is action and usually noise, for jays, like Crows, are fond of hearing their own voices. Often a great uproar in the woods may be traced to a dozen or more Blue Jays in the tree-tops, screaming as if in great terror or pain, and apparently for no earthly reason except to keep up the excitement which seems to be of the hair-raising kind, and to exercise their lungs; in autumn they seem to delight in gathering near some woodland dwelling, and “yawping” in a raucous chorus, apparently with no particular object in view, except to wake the sleepers; but let them find a Screech Owl dozing the day away close to the trunk of some tall pine — then we shall see real excitement!

The woods ring again with the screaming chorus, and blue flashes to blue as the crested birds converge to the attack. In their excessive agitation the jays seem to lose their habitual caution, and it appears as if the mob would annihilate the despised and hated imp of darkness. Surely the poor little gray owl will be torn in shreds!

But no! After half an hour of ceaseless clamor hardly a feather of the drowsy one is ruffled. The onset of the blues consists mainly of fuss and feathers — bluff and bluster. Occasionally, however, the mob becomes so numerous and aggressive as to drive the owl out of the woods, but having thus rid themselves of his presence they do not follow far.

The jays take good care to keep out of the owl’s reach, for many a Screech Owl’s nest is lined with the feathers of such as they.

Where there are Blue Jays, there always is action and usually noise, for jays, like Crows, are fond of hearing their own voices.

Wilson’s beau of the woods

This elegant bird, which, as far as I can learn, is peculiar to North America, is distinguished as a kind of beau among the feathered tenants of our woods, by the brilliancy of his dress; and like most other coxcombs, makes himself still more conspicuous by his loquacity, and the oddness of his tones and gestures.

The Blue Jay is an almost universal inhabitant of the woods, frequenting the thickest settlements, as well as the deepest recesses of the forest, where his squalling voice often alarms the deer, to the disappointment and mortification of the hunter; one of whom informed me, that he made it a point, in summer, to kill every Jay he could meet with.

In the charming season of spring, when every thicket pours forth harmony, the part performed by the Jay always catches the ear. He appears to be, among his fellow-musicians what the trumpeter is in a band, some of his notes having no distant resemblance to the tones of that instrument. These he has the faculty of changing through a great variety of modulations, according to the particular humor he happens to be in.

When disposed for ridicule, there is scarce a bird whose peculiarities of song he cannot tune his notes to. When engaged in the blandishments of love, they resemble the soft chatterings of a duck; and while he nestles among the thick branches of the cedar, are scarce heard at a few paces distant; but no sooner does he discover your approach, than he sets up a sudden and vehement outcry, flying off, and screaming with all his might, as if he called the whole feathered tribes of the neighborhood to witness some outrageous usage he had received.

When he hops undisturbed among the high branches of the oak and hickory, they become soft and musical; and his calls of the female, a stranger would readily mistake for the repeated creakings of an ungreased wheelbarrow. All these he accompanies with various nods, jerks, and other gesticulations, for which the whole tribe of Jays are so remarkable, that, with some other peculiarities, they might have very well justified the great Swedish naturalist in forming them into a separate genus by themselves.

Mimic and ventriloquist

When the young have left the nest and learned to provide for themselves, the family roams through the woods, revelling in plenty that nature has provided for them; they are joined by others and it is a noisy rollicking crew. In the woods in September or October one may hear most of the notes that jays commonly utter, — from the clear clarion ring of the trumpet to the soft conversational chattering, meant only for the ears of their companions, and now they not infrequently imitate the soft “whisper songs” of smaller birds, for the Blue Jay as a mimic is second only to the Mockingbird, though most of his imitations are given in secret, and, apparently, are not meant for human ears.

I am positive that the jay does not always imitate sotto voce, as on one occasion while concealed in the woods watching for deer (though without a rifle), I heard a full, loud, clear song of a Baltimore Oriole in the trees overhead. As it seemed a strange place for an Oriole at that season I scanned the tree-tops carefully and saw the singer — a Blue Jay.

One day in October I heard and saw a jay imitate the mew of the Catbird, and on the same day in another wood, another jay sang the ” whisper song ” of the Catbird many times. Either bird would have deceived the most discriminating listener. I was deceived in both cases until I actually saw the performer.

They imitate the cries of several hawks, reproducing them exactly. Dr. Jared P. Kirtland, of Cleveland, Ohio, had a colony of jays on his estate. During the day the poultry might be seen frequently running for hiding places while the turkey gobbler was searching the sky with upturned eye, alarmed by the mimic ventriloquial utterances of jays simulating the cries of hawks.

It is easy for jays to imitate some notes of hawks, for there is a similar quality in the strong, wild notes of both.

The rascal’s reputation — in the sources’ own words

Unfortunately for the jay he has acquired an unsavory reputation among men, a part of which he deserves, if the killing of smaller birds can be considered a crime. He has been seen to kill young pheasants and even chickens. In winter he has been known to attack and kill birds as large as the Downy Woodpecker, but the Hairy Woodpecker seems able to defend itself against its larger antagonist.

There is a valid excuse, however, for the jay’s so-called cannibalism, as it is his natural prerogative to eat the eggs and young of smaller birds or even the adults in case of necessity, if he can catch them. His right to thus comport himself is quite as clear as that of the little birds to eat flies or caterpillars; moreover, from his point of view it is ethical for him to steal corn, for he is not supposed to know the grain is not his. It is only when judged by human standards that we find him lacking in virtue.

Audubon, who painted three jays sucking a stolen egg, opens his essay — Reader, look at the plate in which are represented three individuals of this beautiful species,—rogues though they be, and thieves, as I would call them, were it fit for me to pass judgment on their actions. See how each is enjoying the fruits of his knavery, sucking the egg which he has pilfered from the nest of some innocent dove or harmless partridge!

Who could imagine that a form so graceful, arrayed by nature in a garb so resplendent, should harbour so much mischief;—that selfishness, duplicity, and malice should form the moral accompaniments of so much physical perfection! Yet so it is, and how like beings of a much higher order, are these gay deceivers! Aye, I could write you a whole chapter on this subject, were not my task of a different nature.

At home: nest, eggs and a stroked sitting female

Although I have lived among Blue Jays and watched them much, I have never seen any special mating antics, but the Blue Jay is so prone to action of some peculiar kind whenever it opens its mouth to squall that special antics of the mating season may have been overlooked. The males follow the females around, and now and then there is an ardent disagreement between two rival males, but that is all that I have noticed.

Usually a new nest is built each year, both birds working upon it, but rarely an old nest is slightly repaired and used. When the stick-carrying begins, every stick that goes into the nest is tested with care. The jay does not pick up dry sticks from the ground for the structure that is to hold its young, but breaks twigs and small branches from the tree; strong dead twigs are used and they even attempt to break green twigs which they seize with their bills in the tree-tops.

Thus they secure a strong and lasting framework for the nest. When nesting in the woods, forest materials alone are used, but if near human habitations string, paper, cotton and other products of civilization may be interwoven with the woodland material. The nest finished, an egg is laid daily. Then the hitherto noisy and loquacious bird becomes silent and furtive.

When coming to the nest he glides silently in among the lower branches and hops from limb to limb near to and around the trunk, watching on all sides, and thus, climbing a spiral stairway, reaches unobserved the nest on which his beloved partner sits waiting for him to bring the morsel which he politely tenders her.

There must be considerable variation in the time of incubation as reliable observers have reported the period as from 14 to 17 days. Both sexes share in the duties of parenthood and both exhibit great bravery in defense of their young.

Forbush’s measurements — Measurements. — Length 11.00 to 12.50 in.; spread 15.70 to 17.50; folded wing 5.00 to 6.25; tail 5.05 to 6.00; bill 1.00 to 1.25; tarsus 1.20 to 1.45; weight (one specimen) 3 oz. (B. H. Warren). Female smaller than male.

And his breeding notes — Eggs: 3 to 6; .99 to 1.20 by .79 to .90 in.; usually ovate; ground color varies much (sometimes on a single egg) from cream to olive-green, olive-buff, vinaceous buff, pea-green or even pale bluish-green or grayish-green, but usually olive or buffy, spotted and blotched irregularly with various browns and lavender or drab and sometimes with a few small spots of blackish also; figured in Bendire’s “Life Histories of North American Birds,” Vol. II, Plate V, Figs. 5, 6.

Dates: April 25 to May 4, South Carolina; April 28 to June 18, Massachusetts. Incubation: Period 16 days (O. W. Knight); 15 to 17 days (Burns); by both sexes.

Bendire, on the nest site — Throughout the greater part of the year the Blue Jay is a more or less restless, noisy, and roving bird, moving in little companies from one wood to another; during the nesting season it becomes more quiet and retiring, and is less often seen or heard. It prefers mixed woods to live in, especially oak and beech woods, but for nesting sites dense coniferous thickets are generally preferred; oaks, elms, hickories, and various fruit trees, thorn bushes, and shrubbery overrun with vines are also used, the nests being placed in various situations, sometimes in a crotch or close to the main trunk, or on the extremity of a horizontal limb, among the outer branches.

They are placed at distances from the ground varying from 5 to 50 feet, but usually below 20 feet. In the more southern parts of their range nest building begins in the latter part of March, and full sets of eggs may be looked for by April 15. In our Middle States it nests a couple of weeks later, and in the northern portions frequently not before June. I believe but one brood is usually reared in a season, but in the South they may occasionally raise two.

The number of eggs to a set varies from three to six; sets of four or five are most often found, and an egg is deposited daily. Both sexes assist in incubation, which lasts from fifteen to sixteen days. The young grow rather slowly, and are fed on insects, worms, and animal food. They often leave the nest before they are fully feathered, and when scarcely able to fly.

At this time they frequently betray their presence by their incessant clamor for food, never appearing to get enough to satisfy their enormous appetites. The parents are exceedingly devoted to them, and are close sitters. Instances have been recorded where a female Blue Jay allowed her head and back to be stroked while sitting on her eggs.

The average measurement of one hundred and thirty-five eggs in the United States National Museum collection is 28.02 by 20.44 millimetres, or about 1.10 by 0.81 inches. The largest egg of the series measures 30.48 by 21.59 millimetres, or 1.20 by 0.85 inches; the smallest, 25.15 by 20.07 millimetres, or 0.99 by 0.79 inch.

Forbush saw that devotion himself — While the Robin often drives the jay from the vicinity of the Robin’s nest, the jay attacks the Robin furiously when it approaches his own nest. The incubating bird is so devoted to her task that sometimes when her eggs are near hatching she will continue to cover them in the face of intrusion until actually lifted off the nest.

At my farm in Wareham a pair of jays had fashioned their domicile on a pine tree, close to the farmhouse. One day one of my boys climbed the tree, took the mother off her eggs, stroked her and released her; she did not wait for him to leave but went right back and covered those eggs while he sat looking down upon her.

Yet the Blue Jay is one of the most wary and cautious of birds. During a severe winter, when cold and snow were excessive, we succeeded in enticing many jays to come to a window to eat food that we provided for them there, but one cold morning one was caught in a trap set for a rat, and it was nearly two years from that day before we could induce another jay to come to that window.

The blind old jay of Jefferson County

What could be more commendable than the following incident, related by Mr. Frithof Kumlien, of Milwaukee, Wisconsin?

Last August (1887), on an old farm in Jefferson County, Wisconsin, my attention was attracted by the notes of a Blue Jay, not the ordinary cry, which could be heard at almost any time, as they are very numerous there, but a series of regular calls, followed by answers from a neighboring tree. There was something so peculiarly suggestive of a communication of thought about the sound that I went to the place, and saw an old Blue Jay perched on a fence, some distance from a tree where there were several others.

On my nearing the bird the calls from the tree became more frequent and loud, changing from a low, pleasant, communicative tone to a shrill alarm, which became more frequent and intense as I approached. Thinking that he must be injured in some way I went cautiously up to him, when I found that he was at least partially blind.

The eyes were blurred and dim, and the lids nearly closed. I had little difficulty in catching him, and found him to be an old and helpless creature, with scarcely a vestige of his former beauty. The beautiful blue feathers were much faded; in fact, the general appearance of the bird was so different as to be apparent at a glance; the claws were very much worn, the bill dulled, and the primaries and tail feathers ragged.

Every feature suggested old age and feebleness. Yet he was cared for and watched as tenderly as was ever a young bird in the nest. No sooner had I caught him than there were at least a dozen Jays close at hand, whose sympathy and interest were manifested as plainly as could be without words.

After a thorough examination I liberated him, when he flew in the direction of the sound of the others, but did not succeed in alighting among the smaller branches of the tree, and finally settled on a large limb near the ground. I saw him every day after that (from August 10 to August 17), and never did his companions desert him, some one of them being always near and warning him of approaching danger, whereupon he would fly in the direction indicated by the sound of their voices.

They guided him regularly to a spring near by, where I saw him bathe daily, always, however, with some of his companions close by. They not only watched and guided him, but they fed him. I had noticed, some days previously, some Jays carrying food, and thought it strange at that season, as there were no young then to feed, but found afterwards, to my surprise and pleasure, that the poor old blind bird was being fed by those whom he could no longer see.

the poor old blind bird was being fed by those whom he could no longer see.

The acorn planter

Mr. Bartram relates an instance of the Jay’s sagacity, worthy of remark. “Having caught a Jay in the winter season,” says he, “I turned him loose in the green-house, and fed him with corn (zea, maize), the heart of which they are very fond of. This grain being ripe and hard, the bird at first found a difficulty in breaking it, as it would start from his bill when he struck it.

After looking about, and as if considering for a moment, he picked up his grain, carried and placed it close up in a corner on the shelf, between the wall and a plant-box, where being confined on three sides he soon effected his purpose, and continued afterwards to make use of this same practical expedient.

The Jay,” continues this judicious observer, “is one of the most useful agents in the economy of nature, for disseminating forest trees, and other nuciferous and hard-seeded vegetables on which they feed. Their chief employment during the autumnal season is foraging to supply their winter stores. In performing this necessary duty, they drop abundance of seed in their flight over fields, hedges, and by-fences, where they alight to deposit them in the post holes, &c. It is remarkable what numbers of young trees rise up in fields and pastures after a wet winter and spring. These birds alone are capable, in a few years’ time, to replant all the cleared lands.”

Economic Status. Professor Beal says that the examination of 300 stomachs shows that the Blue Jay does far more good than harm. We may not agree with that verdict, but there is a beneficial habit not yet considered. Jays bury nuts and seeds in the ground, thus planting forests. They also regurgitate smaller seeds and so distribute them.

As Barton says, in a few years they would replant all the cleared lands, and they are not known to distribute the seeds of poisonous plants.

Source

Edward Howe Forbush, Birds of Massachusetts, Vol. II (1927), Blue Jay. Alexander Wilson, American Ornithology (1871 printing), Blue Jay. Charles Bendire, Life Histories of North American Birds, Vol. II (1895), Blue Jay. John James Audubon, Ornithological Biography, Vol. II (1834), Blue Jay. Public domain. Biodiversity Heritage Library / Internet Archive.

Passages reproduced verbatim from the scanned originals. Hard line-wraps joined and the scan’s doubled word spacing collapsed; page headers, plate captions and the sources’ reference footnotes omitted; footnote reference marks (superscript digits, asterisks and daggers printed after sentences) removed; OCR pipe characters removed; the printers’ space before punctuation closed up and compound hyphens the scan breaks apart closed. Single-glyph OCR corrections: “Tuts elegant bird” to “This elegant bird”; “other ruciferous and hard-seeded vegetables” to “other nuciferous and hard-seeded vegetables”; “ReaveExR, look at the plate” to “Reader, look at the plate”; “Incubation: Period 16 days (0. W. Knight )” to “Incubation: Period 16 days (O. W. Knight)”; “on an old farm in Jefferson County, Wis. consin” to “on an old farm in Jefferson County, Wisconsin”; “not the ordinary ery, whic h could be heard” to “not the ordinary cry, which could be heard”; “while sitting on her egos” to “while sitting on her eggs”; “they freque ntly betray their presence” to “they frequently betray their presence”; “Kconomic Status” to “Economic Status”; ““On my nearing the bird” to “On my nearing the bird”; “remark. ‘Having caught a Jay” to “remark. “Having caught a Jay”; “observer, ‘is one of the most useful” to “observer, “is one of the most useful”; “replant all the cleared lands.’’” to “replant all the cleared lands.””. Cuts, always at sentence boundaries: Forbush’s migration discussion, his Hatch quotation and his summary of Beal’s diet figures are omitted; his nest-building paragraph ends at the incubation sentence and the mimicry paragraph at his own observations; Bendire’s egg-robbing testimony pages are deliberately left out (that debate has its own article on this site) and his Kumlien quotation begins at the August 1887 scene, past a garbled clause; Audubon appears only in his opening paragraph; Wilson’s account is excerpted.