This section is from the book "Parrots In Captivity", by William Thomas Greene. Also available from Amazon: Parrots in Captivity.
Prittacus atricapillus, Russ. Synonyms: Lorius domicella, Lorius orientalis indicus, Domicella atricapilla.
German: Der schwarrzkappige Lori.

Purple-capped Lory.
French; Perroquet lori a collier jaune, Le Vail.
THE very charming Parrot which forms the subject of the present notice is, perhaps, more frequently and more successfully kept in domesticity than any of the Indian members of the Lory sub-family of the Psittacidoe, a distinction it owes no less to its beautiful plumage, docility, and amiable character, than to its acknowledged hardiness.
The latter is of course a comparative quality, and when we say that the Purple-cap is hardy, we do not wish it to be understood that it is as easily kept as a great White Cockatoo, as any person misinterpreting our meaning, would soon discover to his cost: but among the Lories it is hardy, rivalling the Blue Mountain in this respect; and, although we are not aware that it has ever bred in captivity, we have personal knowledge of solitary females laying eggs on the floor of their cage, and evincing a strong desire to incubate.
The nesting of this species is identical with that common to the rest of the family; a hollow bough is chosen, and the three or four white eggs are laid on the bare wood, and the young make their appearance in the outer world about six weeks after the laying of the first egg, and never return to their nursery again.
The Purple-capped Lory is a native of the Moluccas and adjacent islands, from whence it is yearly imported in increasing numbers, as its mode of treatment and excellent qualities as a domestic pet, are better understood. Its length is about eleven inches, of which the short tail measures four inches. The general or ground colour is scarlet, a yellow collar decorates the breast, the wings are green, and the points of the shoulders blue, the top of the head is purple, of so deep a shade as in some lights to appear black, and the tail feathers are edged with a yellow border.
The female closely resembles the male, and can only be distinguished from him by comparison; but this makes little difference, unless it be desired to secure a pair for breeding purposes, for she is quite as clever as her mate, learning to speak, not only words, but long sentences, to imitate domestic sounds, and to sing and warble like a Canary, with equal facility.
Although properly classed with the Lories, the Purple-cap differs materially from the typical form of those birds: for instance, the filamentous character of the tongue is much less apparent in it than in other members of the same sub-family, in whom the tubular and papillary structure of that organ is developed to its utmost extent.
Consequently the bird under notice is more easily kept than the true Lories, and will, in fact, live for a number of years on a diet such as we have recommended for the Blue Mountain Parrot: we have even seen one of these birds that lived, in fair health, for a number of years on bread and milk sweetened with brown sugar, with occasionally a few grapes, or strawberries thrown in for a variety, when in season.
All the birds of this species that we have ever seen were exceedingly tame and gentle, and, moreover, excellent linguists and mimics, and evinced the greatest attachment towards their owners, whose caresses they received and returned with much apparent pleasure.
The price of the Purple-cap is always pretty high, a specimen being scarcely to be obtained under fifty shillings, while £20 have been paid for a highly educated individual, that was looked upon by its purchaser as dirt cheap at the money.
Personally, as a bird to keep in one's study, and make a pet of, we prefer the Purple-cap to any other with which we are acquainted, not even excepting our ancient friend of the crimson tail, for it never shrieks, and evinces altogether so amiable and charming a disposition, that it is impossible for anyone to know it without loving it; and this high character it has maintained unimpaired for many years, since Bechstein, nearly one hundred years since, wrote concerning it: - "It appeared to be the mildest, most endearing and amiable; in short, the most docile and talkative of all Parrots. It cries 'lory', and chatters incessantly, but in a hollow voice, something like that of a man who speaks from his chest; it repeats everything whistled to it in a clear tone; it likes to be always caressed and paid attention to; its memory is very good."
Jardine again in The Naturalist's Library, speaks of it in equally eulogistic terms: "Held in great estimation, not only on account of its elegant plumage, but for the docility it evinces, and its distinct utterance of words and sentences, it is also lively and active in its disposition, and fond of being caressed."
"As a ventriloquist", writes Mr. Gedney, "the Purple-cap possesses no equal, and the manner in which he will imitate domestic sounds, throwing his voice to the opposite side of the room, is perfectly startling to a stranger.........They require to share the constant society of their owner, and find intense delight in being frequently petted and caressed, repeating all the endearing expressions of their favourite attendant with a readiness and fluency which is quite astonishing."
We might multiply quotations to almost any extent, all couched in similar strains, but cut bono? enough has been said to demonstrate the necessity under which every one who calls himself a fancier of foreign birds remains to become, at the earliest possible opportunity, the possessor of one, or, better still, of a pair of these most delightful birds.
We have said that they are to be treated exactly as recommended for the Blue Mountain, but they are hardy enough to live on a much more meagre diet; indeed some authorities consider that bread and milk sop is sufficient to preserve them in health: but we do not; so treated they are very apt to suffer from diarrhaea, and, as in some instances that have come under our cognizance, to ultimately die from consumption, which is surely a consummation to be avoided, and which certainly can be prevented by proper care and attention.
In one respect the Purple-cap differs from the Blue Mountain in the matter of diet, it does not seem at all to care about insect food, but is particularly fond of fruit, particularly ripe grapes, which it sucks with much apparent pleasure.
As we have already written a good deal about this bird elsewhere, we are unwilling to repeat what we have said, and draw our account to a conclusion, merely remarking that although the orange beak of the Purple-cap appears to be a formidable weapon of offence no less than defence, on account of its size and the sharp point with which it is terminated, it is really most harmless, its most terrible bite amounting to a mere nibble and nothing more; so that we are of opinion that any aviarist desirous of getting it to breed in his aviary must provide it with ready-made burrows in which to nest, as it is quite incapable, from the weakness of the buccal muscles to excavate a hollow for itself in any log, no matter how decayed and soft. But all the Indian Lories are weak billed, and must on no account be placed in the same enclosure with any of their African or Australian congeners, who are sharp and strong of beak, and, many of them, of cruel and vindictive disposition.
We say "many of them" advisedly, for there are, of course, exceptions to every rule, and we have known individuals, belonging to the most savagely disposed races, as tame and gentle as the most amiable of Purple-caps; and conversely, no doubt, an odd member of the latter species, as well as of others remarkable for good temper, may now and then be met with of a sour and morose nature, and as unlike the majority of their brethern as it is possible for them to be. Nor is this such a wonderful thing when one considers it a little, men have a national and an individual character, and disposition: thus we English are stolid and uncommunicative, with an eye to the main chance; while our neighbours across the Channel are gay, lively, impulsive, not to say gushing; yet we occasionally meet with a Britisher, to use an American phrase, who ought to have been born in France, and a Frenchman, now and then, as phlegmatic and matter-of-fact as any true-born Briton.
It is just the same with birds: each individual has his private disposition as well as his national, or tribal characteristics, and every now and then one meets with exceptions to the general rule, and to argue from these individuals that all the race to which they belonged necessarily resembled them in every point, is as manifestly absurd, as it would be for a Chinese to maintain that the English were the liveliest people in the world, because he chanced to fall in with a young Briton full of life and spirits, brimming over with fun and jollity, a "jolly dog" in fact, of which a few specimens yet linger in our midst, and crop up unexpectedly now and then.
Therefore to say that all the Cockatoos are noisy and spiteful, or that all the Lories are amiable and well-behaved, because an individual, or a few individuals with such dispositions have come under the speaker's or writer's notice, would be every whit as unreasonable, and incorrect, as to maintain that all Englishmen are lively, or all Frenchmen sad, because they have met one or two persons of the former nation endowed with a jovial, and two or three of the latter afflicted with a morose and taciturn disposition.
It is true a general or national characteristic, or series rather of characteristics, runs through each race, but beneath, or rather independent of, these peculiarities one meets with individuals possessed of very different qualities in every country, and belonging to every race; so that it behoves the student of character, whether in man or birds, to beware of drawing general conclusions from a few observations, but to reserve a final judgment until he has had sufficient data, drawn from numerous observations, upon which to found his arguments so securely that no future traveller over the same ground will be able to break down his work, and scatter his conclusions to the winds.
All birds, and the Purple-cap is one of these, that feed more on soft than on hard food, require daily attention to keep their cages or other dwelling-places sweet and clean. Thus a large bird-room inhabited by, say one hundred, seed-eating birds, may, quite safely, be left for twelve months without being cleaned out, and no ill effects either to the birds, or to the human inhabitants of the house need be apprehended; but if even half a dozen soft-billed birds are included with them in the apartment, the case will be very different, and great care must be exercised, or very objectionable results will speedily follow: such a room, containing even the limited number of six soft-billed, or soft-food-eating birds will require to be thoroughly cleaned out and everything in it renewed at least four times a year, so that on the whole it is much better not to keep hard and soft-billed birds together in the same aviary.
Similarly the cage of a seed-eating bird may be cleaned out once a week only, but that of a soft-food-eating bird, such as a Purple-capped Lory, must be attended to every day, or the health of the bird will suffer, and the room in which the cage is place be rendered almost uninhabitable by reason of the effluvium arising therefrom.
Although the Purple-cap does not, as a natural consequence of the diet upon which it subsists, eat, or rather swallow, as much grit and sand as a seed-eating bird, it cannot be preserved in health without some small gravel for use in its gizzard, as the muscular stomach of birds is popularly termed; therefore the owner will do well to place a plentiful supply of coarse river, or well-washed sea, sand at the bottom of his pet Lory's cage, which he must make up his mind to clean, or have cleaned, out every day, not even excepting Sunday, and this, being a work of necessity, need cause no scruple to the most conscientious of bird-keepers, or aviarists, to use the latest word coined to express a fancier of feathered pets.
As a further incentive to exertion in this respect, a clean cage means a clean, healthy, comfortable, happy-looking bird, while a dirty cage necessitates a miserable, bedraggled, moping creature, that spends half its time with its head under its wing, endeavouring by such means to shut out the evil odours arising from the floor of its domicile, from its sensitive olfactory nerves.
Again, a dirty cage is always more or less infested with vermin, and a bird tormented by these wretched parasites soon becomes diseased, often plucks itself bare of feathers in its desperate attempts to free itself from its tiny myriad tormentors, and, from continual disturbed rest, grows mopy and dozy in the day-time, and if not yet really ill, has every appearance of being so.
The Purple-capped Lory is too valuable and too charming a bird to be neglected thus; but many fanciers are afraid of a little trouble, and rather than leave their beds half an hour in the morning earlier than usual, pretend that they have not time, when really all that they want is inclination, and thus the poor birds, who cannot help themselves, are made to suffer.
Any one who has watched and studied a handsome healthy Purple-cap cannot have failed to have noticed what a consummate dandy, not to say fop he is, and what care and attention he bestows upon his toilet; every individual feather is carefully passed through his beak many times a day; he delights in bathing, and if, by chance, a speck of dirt happens to fall on his beautiful coat, the poor fellow's distress is almost ludicrous to behold: he crains his head back so as almost to touch the offending portion of "matter out of place" with his orange beak, and then suddenly draws back, shaking his head with every expression of disgust, then he shivers all over, rather than shakes himself, and if the speck falls off he squeals with pleasure, but should it still adhere to his back, he jumps about the cage with every symptom of deep concern, and, finally, on finding that nothing else will do, knocks it off with the point of his bill, which he immediately cleans against his perch, and then, generally, goes and has a bath. Think then what one of these birds kept in a dirty cage must suffer.
Of the Purple-cap the Hon. and Rev. F. G. Dutton writes, "I fed these birds in the same manner as the Blue Mountains, and had that best of all proofs that my food suited them, their plumage improved so much. I bought them of M. Celle de Sprimont in Belgium, whose gardener declared they were aviary-bred, and that they supplied the old birds with some chopped meat when they were nesting."
We think it is quite possible that this may have been the case, though our correspondent goes on to say that he knows nothing of the truth of what he was told.
We believe that all the Lories are partially insectivorous, and failing insects might eat a little meat, as many other birds are in the habit of doing; that they bred as stated we also believe to be not only possible but probable.
The Purple-capped Lory is, I think, overrated in all the accounts I have seen. Bechstein's account made me most anxious to have one, but although I wished and wished for years, I never had the opportunity till the spring of 1882. In January of that year, I saw some advertised by M. Celle de Sprimont, and bought a pair which reached me in February.
I had long learnt from observation of those at the Zoological Gardens to take Bechstein's remarks cum gramo, but I was not prepared to find the Purple-cap as untameable as mine were. They were bold birds, but nothing would induce them to take anything from my hand. This is not to be taken as implying that the Lories are not most caressing and attractive in their ways, but it shows that to become so they must be brought up by hand. My pair were, I was told, bred in the aviary in Belgium, so, no doubt, they had no special taming. Again with regard to their talking powers, there is no doubt that some specimens are excellent talkers, but the majority do not talk at all. I have seen many, and never seen a talking one yet, and I am confirmed in my view that generally they do not talk by one of our largest bird-dealers. I found my pair very noisy, but not unendurably so. One could not very well talk to any one else when they were in the room, but when I was alone, I did not mind their cries. They smelt as much as a Hawk would have smelt, and often I had to have their cage cleaned twice a day. They were bright and active, and very fond of bathing.
I agree with Dr. Greene and disagree with Bechstein as to their hardiness. They are chilly birds, very sensitive to cold, but not delicate. Their chilliness, I think, comes from the extreme thinness of their plumage. They appear to have very little down compared to the other Parrots. They would never eat seed. I was told they had been fed on rice, but they never would touch it. So I gave them what I find all brush-tongued Parrots like, - bun and fig soaked in boiling water, and then mashed into a pulp. Later on in the day they had spongecake soaked in water.
As the weather became warmer, I turned them loose. They showed to great advantage in the garden. Their movements are a quick, hopping step like that of the Barbets. They never liked being separated for long, and if one flew to a distance from the other, they were sure to be found together again very soon. They had a strong homing faculty. They might sometimes fly nearly half a mile away, to a covert out of sight of home, but always about five they would be found on the cornice of the house, where they roosted, if they did not feel sufficiently hungry to come to their cage. It was very pretty to see them fly home. They were like living jewels as their bright scarlet bodies flashed through the air. They did not always come home together: sometimes one would be back twenty minutes earlier than the other, but at five the cornice of the house was pretty sure to hold them.
If they could have gone on like this, I should probably have them now; but winter was coming, and they would not have been able to stand autumn, still less winter, days out. I felt I could not have them in a sitting-room through winter, when windows must necessarily be more closed, and their smell would render the room unbearable, so in September I parted with them to the Zoological Gardens, where I believe they still are, in this November, 1883.
If any one should think of buying a Purple-cap or a Ceram Lory, for I imagine the remarks about one apply equally to the other, I would advise him to secure a thoroughly tame bird, and one that can already say one or two words at least. For this he must be prepared to give rather more than he would for an ordinary Lory, which is worth about fifty shillings.
 
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