Rabbiting on
The late-19th-century saw great competition to produce huge bags, before the top guns got bored and disease decimated rabbit populations
Rupert Godfrey remembers the days of big bags; George Digweed talks about technique; and Tom Godberford Moore suggests some recipes
For those of us “of a certain age”, the humble bunny was the quarry of choice when we started shooting. Not as difficult to kill as a flying pigeon, of course, but tumbling over a bolting rabbit made for spectacular and satisfying sport. As this was post-myxomatosis, one had to work for a bag. Nowadays, it is rare to go shooting in company and not hear the instruction “No ground game”. It is rarer actually to see a rabbit on a driven day – hares, perhaps, especially in arable country, but seldom rabbits. So it is hard to comprehend the sheer numbers of rabbits that plagued the countryside in pre-myxomatosis days. Before the First World War, the rabbit had played a starring role on many great shoots. The explosion in numbers was caused primarily by gamekeepers eradicating the bunny’s natural enemies, weasels, stoats and foxes.
Lord Stamford had been an early fan of the rabbit battue at his Bradgate Park estate in Leicestershire, 3,333 having been killed there one day in December 1861. He had a walled area in his park, in which he had holes made and doors fitted. These doors were left open so the rabbits could use them to feed on the lush pastures enclosed. On the night before the shoot, these doors were quietly closed, trapping the rabbits in separate enclosures that were then shot the following day.
Weather played an important role: if the night preceding the shoot was foggy or wet, the rabbits tended to stay at home and not venture out to be trapped in the open. When it worked, though, it was spectacular: on the “threes” day, 808 rabbits were killed in the first enclosure – in just 23 minutes…
Other landowners started encouraging – and harvesting – rabbits, and one of the foremost exponents of this new “science” was Richard Lloyd Price, who owned the Rhiwlas estate in North Wales. His tome, Rabbits for profit and rabbits for powder, explained how it was done and he realised he could entice the top guns of the era with the likelihood of a huge bag.
He described how to organise a day: “The arrangements for the battue are as follows: the whole space is laid out in lines some 25 to 30 yards in breadth, marked out by heaps of sticks or brushwood, euphemistically described as ‘castles’, artistically arranged on faggots at the bottom, so that the whole structure shall lift up easily. If you wish to make your captives extra comfortable, put out a few half drain tiles, split down the middle, under each heap for them to sit in, should it rain.
“On the day of reckoning, each gun takes up his position and walks slowly down the open space between the heaps of brushwood, keeping good line, and looking right and left as his attendants lift them up. A boy or two dog his heels to run after and capture the cripples, otherwise the intervening spaces are kept clear.
“Two beaters, armed with stout poles, walk on either side of each heap and simultaneously at a bugle sound from the head keeper every castle is lifted up, while a third man, walking behind the other two, prods the natural mattress below, on which one bunny or more is reclining. When there are only one or two rabbits under the heap, all goes well, especially if they start, as every effort is made to induce them to, straight ahead; but when three or more residents turn out together from the same castle, and perchance bolt backwards, then complications ensue, the second gun comes in to requisition or your neighbours come in for a share of the spoils.”
In 1884, he made a bag of 3,684 in a day, which gave him the publicity to assemble a crack team the following year – including shooting superstar Lord de Grey. Luckily, the weather was kind and, on 7 October 1885, 5,094 were shot. He recorded that, “the cartridges were lightly loaded with Schultze powder, charged with only three-quarters of an ounce of No 3 shot, which is the proper charge for rabbit shooting: no blowing to bits and no spoiling for the market.” The enormous total had been made “by fair shooting, all walking-up, no cornering… commencing at 10am, allowing an hour for luncheon, and ending at 6pm”.
Micheldever: eight guns killed here last year in one day 5,008 rabbits
A record bag of this size was big news, and other estates and owners were keen to break it, none more so than Sir Ralph Payne-gallwey. Over the years, he took part in several big days and had noted: “September 29th 1891, Micheldever: eight guns killed here last year in one day 5,008 rabbits, and this year we expected to kill 6,000 in one day, but the weather having been very wet, the rabbits had gone to ground in large numbers. The rabbits were driven past us as we stood concealed by hurdles. Last
year they shot 1,300 rabbits in the first drive, which lasted about a half hour. This year we killed 800 in the first drive.
“November 3rd and 4th 1891 the Hendre, Monmouth: 4,537 rabbits killed in two days by 6 guns. All the rabbits were killed in the park round the house. One gun killed 240 rabbits at one corner in about a half hour and I twice killed over 100 at a corner, and several times 60 to 70.”
He kept trying to break the record and even went as far as buying a day – almost unheard of then – to try and achieve it.
To L Blackmore esq:
Tuesday September 27th 1898
Dear Sir,
I will make you the following conditional offer subject to confirmation. I will bring a party of friends – all good shots – to shoot on October 22nd in your warren at Bramber [near Steyning in Sussex].
You to undertake that not less than 4,000 rabbits are killed by my party in the one day.
If only between 3,000 and 4,000 are killed, then the sum I pay you for the day’s shooting to be £60. If less than 3,000 are killed (which, of course, would be a total failure), I then pay £30.
If 4,000 rabbits are killed I pay you £100. If 4,500 rabbits are killed I pay you £110. If 5,200 rabbits are killed I pay you £120.
You will know best what you can do with your warren, and the number of rabbits you are able to turn above ground. If – as you write – you can guarantee to have 10,000 above ground to shoot at, you will see that I am fully accepting your terms, as contained in your letter of yesterday; as with that number above ground, 8 or 10 good shots could not fail to obtain 6,000 rabbits.
I should be obliged if you would telegraph to me if you accept this conditional proposal, as, in such case, I could then wire to you in a couple of days whether to consider the bargain concluded or not.
Yours faithfully,
Sir Ralph Payne-gallwey
PS: The present record for rabbit shooting is 5,080 in one day – I will add that your headkeeper will receive an extra “douceur” if a record is made.
Reginald Rimington-wilson, the owner of Broomhead grouse moor, where some huge rabbit bags had been made over the years, wrote to Sir Ralph in response to his invitation to the big rabbit day:
October 18th 1898
Dear Sir Ralph,
Many thanks for thinking of me in connection with this rabbit shoot, but I am much too busy shooting to be able to join, besides which I am sorry to say that the days when big rabbit days had a fascination for me are gone.
Talking of records, you will have a big one to wipe out, for Prince Freddie Duleep Singh, who was one of the guns, told me they killed 7,000 in the day at Blenheim about a fortnight ago…
Yours sincerely,
RH Rimington-wilson
sir robert gresley’s report
Sir Robert Gresley was another of the guns at Blenheim on 7 October. There were seven drives, the biggest of which yielded 1,963 rabbits – and one unlucky partridge. In total, 10,180 shots were fired. Sir Robert described the day to Sir Ralph:
“We were five guns [the other guns were Princes Victor and Freddie Duleep Singh, Stephen Wombwell and the Duke of Marlborough] and we began shooting at 10 minutes past nine in the morning and left off at 6.15pm. We spent a good hour over luncheon but except for that interval we were banging every minute of the time. I fired 1,700 cartridges and killed 1,400 rabbits
and my charge was what I always shoot with [illegible] and 1⅛oz No 5.
The rabbits ran extremely well and it was all fair shooting in the open but, of course, not at all difficult. I am glad to have done it the once but I would far rather help to kill 100 brace of partridges in the day, as I think the rabbit soon becomes monotonous. Our exact total, including the pick-up, was 13 partridges, 26 hares and 6,943 rabbits…”
A few years earlier, in November 1895, at Highclere, Lord Carnarvon had decided to try and break the pheasant record. This he achieved on the final day of the threeday shoot, when 2,811 were killed. Over the three days, however, nearly as many rabbits as pheasants were killed – 5,033 against 5,671. The first day had been rather a disappointment to the host, who noted in his gamebook, “rather a disappointment as regards rabbits on the hill” – despite a total of 2,362.
The last battue
Blenheim was the last – and still the biggest – of these rabbit battues. It was clear that huge rabbit days became a bore to the top guns when compared to massive bags of pheasants. After the First World War, there was more emphasis on agricultural production and the rabbit became Public Enemy Number One. On just one 20,000-acre estate – Elveden, in Suffolk – 128,000 were killed in 1921. By the 1930s, there was an annual harvest of at least 40 million rabbits. Despite this, they were considered to be responsible for at least a 5% reduction in agricultural production.
In October 1953, the first British myxomatosis outbreak was noted near Edenbridge in Kent, with a 99.9% mortality rate. By 1955, it was estimated that 95% of the native rabbit population was dead. Although this ghastly disease still keeps the overall population in check, enough rabbits have built up immunity to ensure their survival into the future. But on grounds of safety, especially with the influx of new guns and the “plenty of blue sky” instruction, I fear it may still be sometime before we are allowed to bowl over a bunny on a driven day – more’s the pity.