Gamekeepers’ gruesome practice
ISHARE this picture of the humble mole, a mole very much alive. Unlike the picture I took recently of a number of his deceased buddies hanging in a row on a barbed wire fence. So, if you’ve had your breakfast, please imagine a Gothic horror scene from the reign of Queen Victoria; it’s all quiet and a sullen mist hangs over the edge of the wood, and at any minute her Majesties gamekeeper will come sweeping into the frame with another dead mole.
And while you’re at it, let’s go the whole hog, rescue any little boys that you can find half -way up a chimney, check out the conditions in the local workhouse, and last but not least, walk into the nearest hostelry and explain to the drinkers that in a few years time, something called the ‘car’ will be invented. Okay, I’ll stop there, but hopefully you will understand my incredulity when I tell you that, the photograph in question was taken very recently. Known as a ‘gamekeeper’s gibbet’ this outdated practice was used to show landowners that their minions were doing a good job, incredibly, some thought that other moles would see their chums strung up and clear off fast. A classic example of the misguided and downright ignorance of some mole-catchers and their bosses, moles can hardly see!
Rather than tell you exactly where it was, and by the way, there were thirty moles strung out in a long line, I will once again raise my eyes to the Heavens and wonder whether we will ever see the back of this grim throwback. Truth is, I don’t suppose we ever will, because there will always be some who refuse to move on and embrace REAL conservation.
Read this by Professor Tim Birkhead of Sheffield University, part of his review Roger Lovegrove’s ‘Silent Fields’.
“The deliberate killing of vermin to preserve game for hunting started in the 1500s with the introduction of bounty payments. The figures make chilling reading, not least because they give us a feel for the abundance of certain species in previous times. For example, during the 17th century at Wirksworth in the Peak District bounties were paid on a total of 1,775 raven heads over just 18 years. Lovegrove estimates that the total number of house sparrows killed deliberately between 1700 and 1930 was no fewer than 100 million. As recently as 1980, bounties were still being paid on bullfinches.
Bounties were hardly an efficient means of eradication, for the hunters had a vested interest in not destroying their source of income. In the past century there was a bounty on grey squirrel tails, until in 1958 it was discovered that hunters were simply cutting off the tails to claim their shilling and releasing the squirrels so they would produce more tails.
Bounty-hunting was also ineffective because it was most popular (and lucrative) when the species were most abundant. With the exception of the introduced coypu, bounty-hunting did not work; and once persecution ceased, numbers bounced back.
In the Middle Ages it was generally believed that God had given us animals to do with as we pleased, and this included eliminating those that interfered with farming, hunting or any other human activity. Attitudes to wildlife were harsh to say the least - bull-baiting, badger-baiting and cock-fighting were commonplace.”
Both authors would be mortified to discover that, although not as widespread, the abuse continues, and as much as I would enjoy the opportunity to conclude on positive news, sad to say I cannot.
Last year in the Peak District, dead squirrels, complete with glue and netting, were placed on top of stone walls to tempt passing goshawks.
Next week I promise good news from the land of isolation.