chiefly for two reasons: first, on account of their injurious economic
effects, and, second, because of the harsh punishments which they
inflict for trivial offences. By their action large tracts of land
have been rendered almost totally unproductive, cultivation has been
abandoned and immense numbers of labourers thrown out of employment;
the crops of farmers near preserves, although often on a different
estate, have been injured or even destroyed; ill-feeling has been
engendered between the authors and the victims of game preserving,
and not infrequently the landless, workless labourer has been driven
to break the law in order to procure food, thus landing himself in
violence, or even murder. In addition to all this, the irrepressible
sporting appetite of the people, sustained by a consciousness of having
moral right on its side, leads to a reckless love of breaking laws
which are unjust, unfair, and injurious. No believer in democratic
government, no lover of order, can uphold statutes which demoralise
those who live under them.[9]
ADMINISTRATION OF THE GAME LAWS.
But bad as are the Game Laws in essence, the manner in which they are
administered makes them far worse and more hateful. It is notorious
that a large number of Justices of the Peace are game preservers. The
people who break the Game Laws almost all belong to one class, the
people who sit in judgment on them almost all belong to another and
hostile class. The effect of this arrangement is made very clear by the
following questions and answers:--
When Mr. J. S. Nowlson was asked by a Select Committee of the
House of Commons, “Do game preservers ever act as magistrates
in cases of offences against the Game Laws?” he replied, “Yes,
but not in their own cases. For instance, if A has got a case B
will take it, and if B has got a case A will take it.” Again,
“In case a man was brought up for an offence against the Game
Laws, and there was a certain amount of evidence given, do you
think he would stand a greater chance of conviction than if it
were an offence against some other law?” Reply: “We do consider
so.”
Everybody acquainted with agricultural labourers is aware that a
strong feeling prevails among them that justice is not to be expected
in cases of offence against the Game Laws. A House of Commons Committee
reported that “very few of the Game Law convictions are regular in
point of form, and they would have to be set aside had they gone before
the Judges.” It was a common occurrence for justices to sentence
poachers to longer terms of imprisonment than the law allowed. For
this and other reasons the Home Office has liberated a vastly greater
proportion of offenders against the Game Laws than of any other class
of offenders. An impartial observer might be excused for thinking
that the penalties for poaching are high enough to satisfy the most
exacting. For instance, the penalty for trespass in pursuit of game in
the daytime is a fine of two pounds with imprisonment in default, and
if the offence be committed by a party of five or more the penalty is
five pounds each with imprisonment in default. In the case of night
poaching, the penalty for a first offence is three months’ imprisonment
with hard labour, and at the expiration of that period the offender
is compelled to find sureties for his good behaviour for a year, or
undergo a further imprisonment for six months with hard labour. For
a second offence the penalty is six months’ imprisonment with hard
labour, and at the end of that time the offender must find sureties for
his good behaviour for two years or undergo a further twelve months’
imprisonment with hard labour. For a third offence the penalty is seven
years’ penal servitude. But this is not all. If a party of three or
more enter land at night for the purpose of taking game or rabbits, and
if any of the party be armed with gun, crossbow, firearms, bludgeons,
_or any offensive weapon_, each and everyone of such persons shall be
liable to penal servitude for fourteen years.
Yet there are persons who think that those laws are not severe enough.
A witness, for instance, before that Select Committee cheerfully
proposed that poaching be made felony all round. It is needless to say
that the harshness, or rather barbarity, of the punishment in store for
them renders poachers but little inclined to yield themselves up when
they find themselves confronted by gamekeepers. This accounts for much
of the bloodshed of which we read in connection with poaching. It also
accounts for much of the sympathy which is felt for poachers by all
classes of the population except game preservers and their agents.
THE GAMEKEEPER.
Among the many unsatisfactory products of the Game Laws not the least
objectionable is the gamekeeper. Mr. Joseph Arch once said: “Keepers
are generally taken from the louting men one sees idling about.” The
knowledge that their masters sit on the Bench of Justice, and that
their evidence will be believed in preference to that of trespassers,
frequently emboldens them to acts of the worst brutality. Some years
ago, in charging a Grand Jury at the Nottingham Assizes on certain
indictments for malicious wounding and murder, arising out of poaching
affrays, Mr. Justice Vaughan Williams commented on the way in which
these private police of individuals go out armed to the teeth,
accompanied by savage dogs, _and without any code of instructions to
regulate their proceedings_. Dr. Alfred Russel Wallace, referring to
arrests, etc., said: “I believe myself that in three cases out of
four, the gamekeepers act illegally.” Whatever the men may have been
originally, it is certain that their method of living demoralises the
great majority of keepers. They are often selected at first because
of their brutality. A humane man would be useless in such a post.
Head-keepers, who are generally well paid, as a rule act honestly by
their employers, but it is a fact known to the writer that the more
poorly paid ones not only take game for their own use, but frequently
sell it in order to provide themselves with drink. In almost every
district in which game is preserved it is well known to the working
people that the keepers will purchase, on behalf of their masters, eggs
which they know to have been stolen.
In August, 1900, a show of gamekeepers’ dogs was held at the Royal
Aquarium, London. We quote from a London paper:
“I would rather have one of these dogs with me in a night
row than three men,” said Mr. W. Burton to a representative
yesterday. He was gazing fondly at five ferocious-looking
bull mastiffs in the Westminster Aquarium, where a show of
gamekeepers’ dogs is being held. “If they were unmuzzled,” he
added, “one alone could tear a strong man to pieces in five
minutes. At Thorneywood Kennels, Nottingham, I have trained
these dogs to help the gamekeeper in catching night poachers,
and although they are kept muzzled a man has no chance with
them. If he attempts to run away he is knocked down instantly
and kept a prisoner until the keeper arrives. They are the
same breed of dogs that were used for bull-baiting in the last
century.”
With long imprisonment, or even penal servitude staring him in the
face, and the prospect of immediate violence from man, or dog, or both,
it is not to be wondered at that the poacher often turns out “a rough
handful.” All will remember Kingsley’s lines:
“There’s blood on your new foreign shrubs, squire,
There’s blood on your pointer’s feet;
There’s blood on the game you sell, squire,
And there’s blood on the game you eat.”
It is probably not too much to say that hundreds of encounters between
poachers and gamekeepers occur every winter in this country. Except
in cases where life is lost, the London papers do not report them,
and even then they do not always do so. Local papers, published in
districts where game is preserved, are the sheets to search for such
records.
It may be mentioned here that in the neighbourhood of London
gamekeepers are much less aggressive and brutal than in remote
districts. Near London they seldom attempt to arrest poachers. Acting
under orders, presumably, they content themselves with following
poachers and identifying them if possible, for the purpose of summoning
them afterwards. Moreover, the punishment meted out to poachers in the
neighbourhood of the Metropolis is much lighter, as a rule, than in the
provinces. This is believed on all hands to be due to the criticism and
denunciation of harsh sentences by _Reynolds’s Newspaper_ and other
Radical organs. Such is the effect of this criticism that some years
ago, after the occurrence of some bloody affrays, orders were given on
some estates near Croydon, that in future poachers were to be simply
ordered off the land, and were not even to be summoned unless they
resorted to violence. These orders were afterwards withdrawn, but the
fact that they were given shows that game-preservers are fearful of
losing their privileges if public attention is directed to them.
In reading reports of poaching affrays it is well to remember that
it is almost invariably the gamekeeper’s side of the case that is
presented to the public. If the poacher escapes, he of course is
never heard from. Even if he be caught he is seldom believed, and his
description of the encounter seldom reported. There are exceptions to
every rule, but it is the sincere belief of the present writer that,
when they find themselves confronted by keepers, the vast majority of
poachers would go away quietly if allowed. The abolition of the power
of arrest would, therefore, be a long step in the direction of peace.
The poacher, whether he poach for food or for sport, never believes
that he is guilty of a moral crime. For this reason, the gamekeeper
will never command the respect which is almost invariably accorded the
policeman, even by the most hardened criminals. Policemen, as a rule,
are humane in their treatment of prisoners, and chiefly because they do
not suffer from any sense of personal wrong. With gamekeepers the case
is widely different. From the depredations of the poacher they suffer,
or think they may suffer, in repute or convenience, or even in pocket.
In the circumstances it is little wonder that they frequently act
brutally. As there are exceptions to all rules, there are, of course,
exceptional magistrates who occasionally let light in on the dark ways
of game-preserving. The following paragraph, culled from the _Airdrie
Advertiser_ of March 5, 1898, reveals a case in point:
“CHARGE AGAINST GAMEKEEPERS.--On Thursday, before Sheriff
Mair, at Airdrie, Robert Connor M’Guire, steelworker, 14,
Watt Street, Mossend, pleaded guilty to a charge of daylight
poaching. He was fined 31s., including expenses. Accused
complained to the Sheriff that he had been assaulted by
the two gamekeepers, and that he still bore marks of their
violence upon his arms, which he was desirous of showing. The
gamekeepers were called in and appeared to treat the accusation
lightly, one of them remarking that ‘it was immaterial to him.’
The Sheriff sent for the Inspector of Police, whom he directed
to take the gamekeepers into custody and M’Guire to make the
charge of assault against them.”
We may here mention that all appointments of gamekeepers are invalid
unless registered with the Clerk of the Peace. Very many of them
are not so registered, and, therefore, their arrests, and attempted
arrests, of poachers are illegal. The truth is that on many preserves
nearly all the young labourers are keepers’ assistants. Many of them
are desirous of getting appointed as keepers so as to escape from hard
work, and these are often anxious to distinguish themselves by brutal
conduct towards not only poachers, but the most harmless trespassers.
THE POACHER.
And what sort of man is he against whom all this machinery of law and
authority and brutality is directed? We refer to the poacher. There
is probably no better-abused individual on earth; but abuse is not
argument, and still less is it evidence. If the reader will turn to
the report of the Select Committee of 1846, he will see that after
carefully sifting the evidence the conclusions arrived at were: (1)
That the poacher was generally far superior to the average agricultural
labourer in intelligence and activity; (2) that the great majority
of poachers would break no law other than the Game Laws; (3) that
the poacher was not regarded as a criminal, either by himself or the
people amongst whom he lived; and (4) that this opinion was shared even
by the game-preserver, who not infrequently offered him employment
as gamekeeper. The reader may not be aware that many poachers become
keepers. The well-known writer, “Stonehenge,” remarks on this:
“Reformed poachers, if really reformed, make the best keepers,
but it is only when worn out as poachers that they think of
turning round and becoming keepers.”
It is worthy of remark that every writer on sport of any ability (as
far as we are aware) feels himself constrained to say a good word of
the poacher. We have just now at our elbow a well-known and standard
work, entitled “The Moor and the Loch,” by John Colquhoun. Writing of
poachers in bulk (so to speak) the author denounces them in unmeasured
terms, but when he comes to speak of individual poachers whom he had
known, his tone is altogether different. We quote from vol. ii., p. 146:
“When I first knew Gregor More, of Callander, his poaching days
were over, for he had a mortal disease from having lain out in
the fields one cold night. He still managed to saunter down the
river and give those beautiful sweeps with his line and salmon
fly which were the admiration of the whole clachan.… I looked
at him with some curiosity; a nobler specimen of manhood I
never beheld. Upwards of six feet high, of the finest herculean
proportions, and straight as an arrow, he seemed equally formed
for activity and strength. There was nothing mean or sneaking
about his manner. His face was open and manly, and, despite the
sad discipline to which he had exposed both mind and body, he
had not effaced the natural and sure marks of force and truth
from his countenance. Although wan and emaciated, there was a
coolness, a will to dare in his eye, backed by his tremendous
shoulders and still powerful frame, so that I could not look at
him without thinking of the words, ‘Majestic though in ruins.’
“Very unlike Gregor More was ----. Strange to say, he had once
been a placed minister of the Kirk (answering to a beneficed
clergyman), and although he often returned late on the Saturday
night, after being all the week poaching the deer, his sermons
were both clever and popular. I met him once when traversing a
wild range of hills, and was impressed both with his general
information and the courtesy of his address.”
SOME RESULTS OF GAME-PRESERVING.
Among the evils incidental to game-preserving, not the least is the
destruction of rare and beautiful birds and beasts. I remember how
there was on exhibition in the window of a Liverpool taxidermist a
splendid specimen of the golden eagle, measuring 7 feet 2 inches from
tip to tip of the wings, and 3 feet 2 inches from beak to tail. It had
built its eyrie in a small cave in the face of a high cliff at Benula
Forest, Glencannich, Beauly, N.B. It was watched by a keeper, who
descended the face of the cliff after dark, killed the mother bird, and
carried away the only eaglet from the nest.
In most preserves steel traps are set for the purpose of catching
birds or beasts of prey. When they are caught they are often allowed
to linger in agony for hours, or even days before being despatched.
The writer has seen dozens of hares which had each lost a leg in these
traps. When a fox is caught in this manner it will often gnaw the leg
off.
The horrors of the battue have been described and denounced so often
that little need be said about it here. It is simple butchery, often
very clumsily performed. For days after a battue hares may be seen with
broken backs, dragging their hind-quarters after them among the bushes,
and pheasants may be seen running about with broken wings trailing the
ground. Pigeon-shooting from traps is justly condemned, but the evils
attending it are small compared with those inseparable from the battue.
Mr. Frederick Gale, in “Modern English Sports,” says: “At the Gun
Club Grounds and similar places, which are frequented by noblemen and
gentlemen, the cruelty is comparatively _nil_ to that occasioned by the
battue.” It is within our knowledge that the battue is condemned even
by gamekeepers. They cannot be expected to speak their minds freely
before their employers, but if questioned privately many will be found
to condemn it as affording no test of marksmanship, no opportunity for
exercise or excitement, and as being wasteful of the game. The animals
that escape wounded often become emaciated, or even die of hunger
before being found.
The game preservers are never tired of arguing that the preservation
of game increases the food-supply of the people. To this there are two
answers, either of which is crushing. In the first place, with the
exception of rabbits, game is scarcely ever touched by the masses, for
the very good reason that its price is far beyond their ability to pay.
In the second place, that which they do buy occasionally, rabbit, in
order to come within their reach has to be sold at a price far below
its cost of production. This is equivalent to saying that the same
amount of time, energy, capital, etc., employed in the production
of any other sort of food, would increase the food-supply to a much
greater extent.
It seems impossible to obtain an accurate estimate of the loss and
damage occasioned by game-preserving. We know, however, that the
Scottish deer forests alone cover an area of over two million acres,
and the best authorities assure us that all land which will rear
deer will rear sheep. The latter are vastly more profitable to the
community, although not always so to the landowner. But all must be
sacrificed to game-preserving. For this purpose are footpaths closed,
and labourers compelled to walk long distances to their work. For this
are children debarred from playing or picking flowers in the woods or
the glens. For this is the factory-worker or the slum-dweller forbidden
to breathe the pure air of the hills. For this are vast areas kept
barren, whilst millions hunger for the produce which they might have
yielded, and willing hands, only too anxious to till them, are driven
to seek employment in the already overcrowded docks.
And we think ourselves a practical people!
FOOTNOTES:
[9] See the “Report of the Land Enquiry Committee,” vol. i. (1913), Ch.
“Game.” Also, for some descriptions of Highland “Clearances,” the Rev.
Donald Sage’s book, “Memorabilia Domestica,” and “Gloomy Memories,” by
Donald McLeod.
THE DESTRUCTION OF WILD LIFE
BY E. B. LLOYD
There is one most regrettable result of killing for sport (and more
especially of game-bird shooting) which, though important in itself,
is yet frequently overlooked in discussing the question. This is the
destruction of wild life involved, other than those forms directly
slaughtered for pleasure. Sir Harry Johnston has written forcibly of
the necessity of insisting on the æsthetic value of wild animals in our
landscape, and the desirability of preserving the species that remain,
because they are beautiful and intellectually stimulating;[10] and
the ordinary Nature lover, not to mention the naturalist, cannot but
regard with detestation the ceaseless war of extermination waged by the
devotees of “shooting” on so many of our finest and most interesting
birds and mammals. Indeed, numbers of so-called bird-lovers not
actively opposed to shooting might change their views if they would but
reflect seriously on the damage to our native fauna, and the consequent
dulling of the charm of our country-side, which game-preserving
inevitably brings in its train. For--putting on one side the moral
issue--our British “game birds” cannot compare, for interest and
beauty, with many of the species which are sacrificed on their behalf,
or rather on behalf of the thoughtless folk who slaughter them for
amusement. Moreover, it must be remembered that we do not even possess
any great tract of natural country as a National Park or reserve, such
as Yellowstone Park in the United States of America, or its Canadian
equivalent, or the grand Swedish Wild Park in Lapland.
The gamekeeper, generally speaking, is the most ruthless of beasts of
prey. If he is a good gamekeeper his great aim is to see that there
is always a plentiful supply of partridges in his master’s fields,
pheasants in his master’s coverts, or grouse on his master’s moors, as
the case may be. With this object in view he endeavours to extirpate
all wild life which either is, or is supposed by him to be, in any way
inimical to the birds in his charge; and, unfortunately, owing to the
abysmal ignorance of the average keeper in all that relates to Nature’s
intricate interplay of what we choose to call useful, harmless, and
harmful forms, the list of _supposed_ enemies is a long one.[11]
Moreover, the special position occupied by the gamekeeper gives him the
power (a power all too frequently exercised) of shooting, either for
amusement or profit, any strange or rare bird that strikes his fancy,
besides making it very difficult to restrain his murderous propensities
even in the case of legally protected species. On the whole it may
safely be said that gamekeepers as a class are just as unappreciative
of the true beauty and interest of animal life as are their masters
the sportsmen. To quote one who, among all living writers, is probably
at once the most sympathetic and penetrating observer and the most
delightful interpreter of wild bird life: “The gentleman, like the
gamekeeper, cannot escape the reflex action of the gun in his hand. He,
too, has grown incapable of pleasure in any rare or noble or beautiful
form of life until he has it in his hand--until he has exercised his
awful power and blotted out its existence.”[12]
SOME “VERMIN.”
To come now to the _species_ which are thus warred upon on the plea
of facilitating “sport.” Taking the mammals first--and the list of
our British mammals is at best a miserably scanty one--we find that,
leaving out of consideration such exceedingly scarce ones as the wild
cat, polecat, and pine-marten, and such admitted marauders as the
stoat and rat, there still remain among those classed by gamekeepers
as “vermin,” the badger, the weasel, and the hedgehog: the first
perhaps the most interesting of all our wild quadrupeds, the two latter
certainly not the least interesting and charming. Yet although the best
authorities are agreed that the harm done by the badger to “game” is
almost infinitesimal, the keeper is usually his sworn foe.[13] Badgers
also suffer at the hands of the fox-hunting fraternity, being destroyed
because they are said to be harmful to young foxes, and because they
sometimes open up fox-earths which have been “stopped” in readiness for
the hunt.[14] This, it may be noted, affords another example of the
falseness of the argument so often advanced that fox-hunting is “fair”
because the fox has every chance left him to escape. Fortunately the
badger is a very shy, nocturnal animal, exceedingly wary and clever,
and in some few districts the landlords are enlightened enough to see
to it that he is left in peace.