Part 48

Since that time Mr. Biddulph has added to the King’s County a large portion of the Queen’s County, which was unoccupied, hunting three days a week with a splendid pack of hounds bred by himself from the best blood in the kingdom. Many of his fine stud of hunters are also home-bred. Among the latter must be mentioned Billy Boy, a gallant grey who carried his master for thirteen seasons. Never was a horse so well known over so large a district. Latterly Mr. Biddulph had given him to his children to ride, and he often carried the Master’s eldest daughter, Miss Kathleen Biddulph.

During all the years he carried Mr. Biddulph any place Billy Boy and his master did not get over or force a passage through no one else attempted. In the dining-room at Monyguyneen hangs a fine oil painting, by Lynwood Palmer, of the Master on Billy Boy, while Mrs. Biddulph, in the same picture, is portrayed on her own favourite of so many years, “Noirine,” now a pensioner, and half sister to Billy Boy.

Outside his own district Mr. Biddulph takes great interest in all hunting matters; he was the originator of puppy shows in Ireland, the first having been held at Monyguyneen in 1887. He was also one of the originators of the Irish Hound Show, at first intended to be held in Mullingar, but the scene of which, in consequence of difficulties, was changed to Clonmel, where it is still held. In his spare time he is a keen angler. He is fond of shooting over dogs, which he always trains himself, but does not care for the modern systems of shooting. A noted walker, no day is too long nor hillside too difficult.

Besides personally looking after all details of his kennel and management of his pack, which he, of course, hunts himself, Mr. Biddulph manages a large farm, from the produce of which the stable is principally supplied.

The family descends from the ancient one of the same name in Staffordshire, which is derived from one Ormus le Guidon, Lord of Darlaveston, Buckinghall, Biddulph, &c., who lived in the time of “Doomsday,” as mentioned by Erdeswick in his history of Staffordshire.

Mr. Biddulph married in 1880 Florence Caroline, younger daughter of the late Rev. Cunningham Boothby, of Holwell Rectory, Burford, Oxon. Mrs. Biddulph is as well known in the hunting-field as the Master himself. The family sporting traditions are carried on by their son, now a boy at Harrow, who must inherit the sporting instinct, descended as he is on his mother’s side from Thomas Boothby, who, as history records, was in the eighteenth century the first man to keep hounds for the purpose of hunting foxes only. Thomas Boothby’s horn is at present preserved as a treasured heirloom in the Corbet family, of Cheshire, into whose possession it passed through intermarriage. We should add that Mr. Biddulph is the second oldest Master in Ireland, having carried the horn for twenty-two seasons.

Englishmen’s Sport in Future Years.

It is an almost universally acknowledged fact that the passion for sport in its wildest and least artificial forms, which is inherent in the Anglo-Saxon race, has contributed not a little towards putting that race in the position which it now occupies in the world. It is the love of sport which makes it possible for Englishmen of good birth to endure long years of exile in the wilderness while doing the empire’s work, without suffering that mental, moral and physical deterioration which is so painfully apparent in men of Latin race in tropical Africa and America. It is the influence of sport, to which he is bound not only by individual taste but by the ties of heredity and tradition, which brings the English gentleman to the fore in any enterprise requiring nerve, independence, resolution and stamina, a cool head and a strong hand. It is the sportsman’s training which has made British officers the best officers in the world.

The question occurs to one, what will future generations do for their sport? If the British empire is to maintain her place and fulfil her destiny, it is absolutely necessary that the young men of the upper and upper-middle classes should have that sportsman’s training which is now happily within reach of most of them. The sports which are probably the most useful in the mental, moral and physical training which they give are hunting, the pursuit of large game, and in a lesser degree game shooting in the British Isles. And these three sports are all in danger, if not of extinction, at any rate of eventual restriction to the few and the rich.

It is obvious that other sports and games have their uses in the training of the youth of the nation, and most of them are likely to flourish as long as Britons remain Britons. Racing, for instance, was probably never more prosperous than now in England and Australia, and the sport has taken a good hold in South Africa; the class of horses run was never better, and the standard of turf morality, low as it undoubtedly is, shows signs of eventual improvement under the stern hand of the Jockey Club. And while it may be doubted whether “following the meetings” does a young man much good, except in so far as it teaches him which is the most foolish way of spending his money, yet, if he goes racing regularly and be not quite an idiot, he must pick up some little knowledge of horse-flesh and of mankind.

Polo is altogether admirable so far as it goes. It calls for nearly all the qualities which we are wont to approve of in our fellow countrymen. But it is too expensive an amusement and too limited as to the number of men who can join in it to be really useful as a training school. Cricket, football and rowing are very well in their way, but they are games as opposed to sports, and do not from their nature appeal to the wild pagan instincts which we have inherited from our Saxon, Norse, and Briton forefathers.

Foxhunting and the chase of the wild red deer undoubtedly head the list of British sports. But how long will they continue in their present state? The growth of London and other large towns is pushing hunting further and further away. The increase of population and the growing wealth of the middle class is dotting the countryside with villas, “week-end residences” (odious phrase), and fruit and flower farms. Much of the South of England which a generation ago was good wild hunting country is now completely spoilt, from that point of view, by bricks and mortar. Foreign competition and the lack of agricultural labour are forcing the farmer to practise the strictest economy and to fence his land with barbed wire. The leasing of shootings to rich men from the towns tends to make fox-hunting a less natural and more artificial sport every year, and to limit its scope. Every year more men and women want to hunt, and ought to hunt, and every year there is less room for them. A melancholy sign of the times is apparent in the number of masters of hounds who find “the game not worth the candle,” and resign. It appears that fox-hunting in a generation or two will be an amusement for the rich only, and for comparatively few of them, and it can never again be the glorious, wild, unartificial sport which our forefathers enjoyed.

Numbers of men find healthy and wholesome amusement in shooting; but shooting under the influence of the plutocrat has become terribly artificial, and its conditions are too carefully “cut and dried.”

To find true wild pagan sport, such sport as stirs the blood and brings to the top the hardiest and manliest instincts in human nature, one must go to the hills of Northern India or the wildernesses of tropical Africa. And even in these areas, vast as they are, the wild game is quickly disappearing. Much of the best shooting ground in Kashmire is “shot out,” and nothing short of very drastic remedies can enable the game to live in its original haunts. In South Africa the vast herds of antelope, the elephants and rhinoceros, which roamed at will in the highlands of the Transvaal and the valleys and forests of Zululand not so many years ago, have disappeared before the rifle of the Dutchman, or, more destructive still, the rifle of the nigger, supplied to him for some paltry gain by Dutch or Portuguese trader.

In Mashonaland and Matabeleland much of the game has been cleared off by rifle and rinderpest. The British South Africa Company’s Authorities (all honour to them for it) have established game preserves and a stringent game law, but still the game decreases every year. The reserves are not large enough and the precautions against infringement of the law not strict enough. Not so long ago a Dutchman in Matabeleland killed five kudu bulls in one day, and left them lying where they fell. It is true that he was detected and punished, but for every law-breaker who meets with his just reward quite twenty go free. It is a mistake to suppose that English sportsmen are responsible for the extermination of the game, for the amount which they kill is as dust in the balance compared with the wholesale slaughter committed by Dutch and Colonial settlers and traders and by natives.

The British East Africa Authorities (who, by the way, have reserved a strip of country alongside the Uganda Railway which is full of game) have decreed that a “sportsman’s license” shall be issued to a visitor to the country for £50, whereas a “settler’s license” may be had for £10. A law on the same lines, though the amounts are smaller, has just come into force in North-west Rhodesia. This seems to me manifestly unjust. A man goes out from England to shoot for the sake of the sport alone. So that he obtains good specimens for his collection and kills enough meat to keep his boys he is content, and wanton slaughter is probably repugnant to him. It would be useless for him to shoot more than his allowance of each kind of game, for an attempt to take the heads out of the country would lead to instant detection. Dutchmen, on the other hand, and, alas, many “English” colonials, are, like natives, hampered by no sportsmanlike considerations whatever. They kill game so that they may sell the hides for a few miserable shillings, and they kill it in season and out of season, bulls, cows and calves alike, careless of whether they can use or keep the meat or not. Moreover, they are not likely to run any risk of punishment for this wanton and indiscriminate slaughter, for the tell-tale heads are left upon the veldt. This kind of thing has been going on for years in Southern Rhodesia, and with the advance of “civilisation” it will proceed merrily in the territories to the north of the Zambesi, until all South and Central African big game has been either killed off or driven away to the fastnesses of the Bechuanaland deserts and the equatorial swamps. More ominous than anything else for the future of the great game is the fact (which the British South African officials may deny if they like) that the natives in their Northern territories have many rifles and plenty of ammunition.

I have attempted to show that, to my way of thinking, there will arise during the next few years two very pressing needs:—

(1) To find a new sporting training-ground for Englishmen.

(2) To save the great game of Africa and India from final extinction. And I think if the British, Colonial and Indian Governments be sufficiently enterprising and large-minded, these two objects might be effected conjointly, without much real difficulty and without great outlay.

My scheme is:—In the mountains of Northern India, in the Northern Transvaal, in Zululand, Mashonaland, Matabeleland, Bechuanaland, Northern Rhodesia, Uganda, British East Africa and Somaliland, there exist thousands of square miles of country, either mountain ranges, poor veldt, sandy desert, forest, bush, or swamp, which can never be used for either agricultural or pastoral purposes, but which are the natural homes of the great game.

Let enormous reserves be formed in these places, the larger the better, in which _no game at all_ may be shot for market purposes. Rangers may be appointed, these being Government officials, and these rangers would have power to grant licenses to kill game to any _approved_ British subject. The applicant would have to produce proofs that he was a respectable individual, and would have to make a statement upon oath that he wished to kill game merely for sport—for the sake of the trophies—or for scientific purposes, and not with any idea of making money out of it. He would have to pay for his license, the amount varying according to where he wished to go and what he wished to shoot. These licenses could be granted by the home or Colonial Governments for particular districts, subject to the approval of the local rangers, which of course would not be withheld except for good reason.

The money paid for the licenses would go towards the necessary expenses of maintaining the reserves.

The duties of a ranger would be:—

(1) To prevent unauthorised persons from shooting in the reserve; this should not be difficult, for news travels with amazing rapidity in savage countries, and a ranger would be sure to hear of any white man shooting within fifty miles of his camp.

(2) To prevent as far as possible the killing of game by natives, either with firearms, pits or deadfalls. This would be far more difficult.

(3) To check the sale of guns and ammunition to the natives by Dutch, Portuguese, or Arab traders.

(4) To see that no one is allowed to trade for ivory or skins within the reserves, and as far as possible to see that the natives are not in possession of these commodities.

(5) To keep himself acquainted as far as possible with the amount of different kinds of game in his reserve.

Sportsmen would be licensed to kill only a certain number of certain animals, at the discretion of the ranger. The latter would then be able to make sure that no particular kind of game was being unduly persecuted. For instance, if he thought the stock of kudu, let us say, on his reserve was getting too low, he would issue no licenses to kill kudu until he thought fit.

No white settlements would be allowed within the reserve, except the camps of the ranger and his assistants, and no trading would be allowed except by special permit from the ranger.

I am afraid my scheme will seem Utopian to most people. At the same time, I am convinced that only by some such drastic measures as I have outlined can the destruction of great game by traders and market hunters be checked, and the wild places of the empire be maintained for the enjoyment of British sportsmen.

BLACKTHORN.

A Plea for the Hare.

I never see a hare when out for a country walk or ride—it is different, I fear, when I have a gun in my hand or am following beagles—without thinking to myself, “Poor devil!” For here is an animal, one of the few mammals remaining to us in England, which is the essential to one branch of sport, and which plays a leading part in two others, absolutely unprotected by law even at the breeding season of the year, when all but the vilest vermin should enjoy immunity from persecution. “Unprotected by law,” however, is too mild a term, for the iniquitous Ground Game Act even goes so far as to actually sanction the destruction of hares the whole year round. I do not propose herein to deal with the manifold objections to this Act beyond what I may call this “all-the-year round” principle and the fact that it is framed without any knowledge of the natural history of the animal it professes to deal with. For though in some parts of Norfolk and elsewhere the enormous number of hares may possibly offer some defence for its perpetration, other localities in England are naturally so denuded of hares that the creatures demand almost as much protection as would a pair of golden eagles in Hyde Park. There is, in fact, just about as much common-sense in allowing this Act to have indiscriminate power all over our country as there would be in allowing the indiscriminate persecution of partridges all over Europe just because they happen to be especially numerous in Hungary!

To quote a case in point. I spent the first twenty years of my life in a part of Surrey which, if not very prolific in game, certainly produced a fair quantity. I never saw a hare in that district except on occasions when I was following the harriers, whereas in Norfolk I have over and over again counted ten or a dozen in one field; and yet the same law of extermination reigns supreme in either county. But if we feel aggrieved with those legislators who gave us the Ground Game Act, and whom no one in their wildest flights of imagination would accuse of being sportsmen, how much more indignant ought we to be with those who claim this title, and in that guise continue to persecute the hare long after the legitimate period of winter well into the months of spring? Opinions may differ as to the usual time for the appearance of the first litter of leverets; or perhaps I should leave out the word “litters,” as does often produce only a single youngster at a birth. I do not think, however, that I shall be unjust if I claim that naturalists will hold to the theory that young hares have in mild winters been found in January and February, and very commonly in March, while only those who wish to continue hunting or coursing through the mad month will advance the somewhat convenient idea that it is unusual to see leverets much before the end of April.

This very winter, on January 19th, I watched several groups of hares busily occupied in the pursuit of love-making. Assuming that their courtship lasted a full week, which is extremely unlikely, and that the period of gestation is anything between four and five weeks, it is fair to expect that several of the hares which I saw produced young ones early in March, and for at least the last ten days of February were in a totally unfit state to run before greyhounds, harriers, or beagles. And although the month in which I write is March, and in less than a week April will have arrived, I find in my copy of the _Field_ the fixtures of no less than ten packs of harriers and beagles announced for the next seven days, and some of these without the welcome words, “to finish the season.” I hope the omission is accidental. From the same source I gather an account of a coursing meeting held as late as March 22nd, and it is quite safe to infer that many other less reputable clubs are still gaily continuing their season, and that there are a few packs of hounds still hunting puss who do not advertise their meets. And all through this time, which should be held sacred to the rites of love, in addition to coursing and hunting, the farmer continues to pump lead into the hind quarters of this unfortunate bundle of timidity.

I have mentioned as briefly as I could what we have done for the hare, let us now consider what she has done for us, and will continue to do, if we will only permit her. Out shooting we all know her charm. She may not be a very satisfactory animal to shoot at or even to kill, but the bag is not complete when we cannot add her to the total we gather round the covert-side or behind the hedges. Chiefly when partridge-driving we could least spare her cheery and monotony-breaking presence, that confiding way she has of sitting in the hedge opposite us and almost entering into conversation with us, and then her maddening habit of preferring the society of the beaters to our own. And, too, what a test of skill and quickness she affords in covert to the walking guns; and let us not forget how once—an all unconscious humourist—she beguiled an unfortunate M.F.H. into shooting a fox in mistake for her russet self! But it is not in the shooting-field that her chief business—her _raison d’être_, so to speak—lies; she plays a bigger part in the world of sport than that. There are, I believe, in England no less than one hundred and nineteen packs of harriers and forty-eight packs of beagles, making in all a total of a hundred and sixty-seven packs of hounds kept simply and solely to hunt the hare. Some of these, it is true, contain a considerable quantity of foxhound blood, but many are free from any taint of it whatsoever, and are as separate and distinct from foxhounds both in themselves and in their ancestors for all times as chalk is from cheese. These hounds exist chiefly in Lancashire, and also in Wales and Devonshire. But whether a hound is a true harrier, a diminutive foxhound, or a cross-bred, is of little importance in illustrating my point, so long as he is kept only for the purpose of pursuing the hare.

If we will consider the number of servants that each hunt has to employ, the quantity of food and fodder consumed by hounds and horses, where these latter are necessary, and multiply that result by a hundred and sixty-seven, we shall gain a rough estimate of the hare as an employer of labour and as a virtual principal in necessary purchases from farmers and various dealers.

I have not been able to accurately ascertain the number of coursing clubs existant in this country, but though they have diminished somewhat from the “good old days,” there are quite sufficient remaining to admit the claim that the cult of the greyhound resembles in a less degree the cult of the racehorse. The hare and the greyhound are quite inseparable; it is safe to say that without the former the latter would never have existed, nor would, even at this late stage of his evolution, continue to exist. If then, again, we will make a mental note of the quantity of kennels throughout the country, the work entailed by the Waterloo Cup and other less important meetings, the various employees of the Barbican Repository and Aldridge’s—though these places, of course, have other functions—we shall be bound to admit that in this branch of sport, again, the hare indirectly gives scope for a vast amount of labour. And she makes the money change hands, too, as witness the large prices now paid for greyhounds and the railway fares of spectators to various coursing meetings.

It is possible to gather from these rough facts something of the economic importance of this sandy mistress of the woods and fields; it is quite impossible to estimate how much health-giving pleasure she gives to the devotees of sport or to what enormous numbers she gives it. This point I can safely leave to the imagination of the reader. I have explained that the hare is entirely responsible for the existence of greyhound, harrier, and beagle, and to these three species I would add the Norfolk lurcher, an animal of unenviable reputation, but sometimes of extraordinary beauty, and an incalculable and perfectly legitimate assistance to the warrener. It remains only for me to touch lightly on her culinary value, to call to mind how she may be jugged, roasted, braised, hidden away in soups and game-pies, served as an _entrée_ in a dozen different forms, and I have finished an extraordinary catalogue of virtues for one little animal. The sporting kings that came before us, the Richards, the Williams, and the Georges, knew her worth, and with divers pains and penalties forbade her indiscriminate destruction. Their actions gave us a goodly heritage of hares; and for what? That we should treat her with as little consideration as we show to a stoat or a rat, although she is less defenceless in her habits than these; that we should ruthlessly proceed to exterminate the goose that lays so many golden eggs.