Shooting Times & Country Magazine
Gamekeeper
Modern keepers have a great deal to learn from the practices of their forebears, in a time when a job worth doing was worth doing well
MAlan Edwards is conservation manager at Bywell, a Purdey gold-award estate in Northumberland y eyes strained as I concentrated through my binoculars; in total I counted 12 birds. A new and unrecorded brood of wild grey partridges had appeared on a route I’m travelling almost daily at the moment. Why is it that I’ve never seen them before? How on earth can these remarkable birds remain so secretive for so long? The answer is probably that they have become so familiar with their surroundings and habitat that my non-threatening passage on my little machine causes the birds to remain in where they are and pause as I pass. Therefore, occasionally as I approach there ia a chance of spotting them in the open.
Keepers of old often recorded that partridges became very knowledgeable about human behaviour and could recognise individuals in their patch. So much so that some keepers during the breeding season had partridges on nests that could tolerate being lifted up to allow the keeper to check the clutch of eggs for progress or for possible predation. In these modern times I can’t imagine the detail that was delivered by these remarkable keepers. I never have time to stop and observe nature to such a fine degree. My encounters with wildlife are brief and all-encompassing, and there’s little I do today that begins to approach the levels of dedication shown by past partridge manor keepers.
As Shooting Times passes its 140year barrier, my thoughts drift towards the fundamental cornerstones of my profession. Of those, the trapping of small mammalian predators is probably essential for all branches of keeping. It’s fundamental in delivering sustainable game stocks as well as underpinning good conservation. A few years ago, I was fortunate to spend considerable time in Norfolk — for many, Norfolk is the cradle of wild bird shooting. Trapping sites are meticulously maintained in the most pristine condition, the construction of these sites are works of art.
Looking closely at one site, the tunnel ran through an embankment that a large mature hedge grew upon. I talked to the keeper and expressed my amazement at the level of work to dig through this bank. To my astonishment, he explained that this trap was built before the hedge was planted and had probably been in existence for more than 100 years. It was sobering that work completed so long ago still had so much relevance today. These trapping sites still attracted predators as they were designed to originally.
After every visit to Norfolk I came home to Bywell and looked at my work with fresh eyes. Trapping sites for the best part were a temporary affair and reminded me of the tale of the three pigs. A decent wind or a gentle flood would have rendered them invisible in every way. No trace for others to follow would be found. Everything I had done was legal and to best practice, but would they have lasted 100 years? So my instruction to my then-trainee Sam was, where possible, to build everything to last at least 100 years. Sam’s traps still make me smile when I pass or check them. They certainly look like they will be there when Shooting Times marks its 240th year.
“It was sobering that work completed so long ago had so much relevance today”
The momentous and extremely sad passing of Queen Elizabeth II has, I’m sure, given all keepers the opportunity to reflect on what a wonderful countrywoman the Queen was. She saw things in a very basic way and enjoyed the countryside in the same manner we do. Every step of every day should for us be a celebration of her reign — it certainly will be for me.
My brood of partridges have more than likely survived because of the actions of others long ago. The skills passed from generation to generation have played their part in protecting my brood to maturity. Succession is a fine thing.