Coveys, curlew and a castle
Testing conditions and Yorkshire Dales terrain gave guns a thoroughly sporting day at Bolton estate
Testing conditions in Wensleydale gave Adrian Dangar a thoroughly sporting day at the Bolton estate, the home of Harry, 8th Baron Bolton
As I step out of my car beneath the shadow of Wegber Scar in Wensleydale, a plaintive whistle pierces the leaden skies. I scour the low cloud for the silhouette of a lone curlew flying purposefully above green pastures at the foot of West Bolton Moor. The haunting whistles are a reminder of the wader’s extensive repertoire of birdsong – it is said to have up to 17 calls – and once heard, who can ever forget the flute-like, bubbling symphony emanating from curlew nesting grounds that heralds the arrival of spring, likened by the former Poet Laureate Ted Hughes to harps hanging over misty valleys.
More than perhaps anywhere else in Britain, this wild and rugged region of the Yorkshire Dales National Park is curlew country. “We have a wide belt of moorland fringe, a few tarns and wet pasture that is ideal habitat for waders,” explains the Bolton estate headkeeper of 12 seasons, Ian Sleightholm, when I meet him. “The farmers plan their grass cutting to avoid disturbing nesting sites and our predator control benefits curlew and other species, such as lapwing, redshank and oystercatchers – stoats are the biggest problem here.”
The 12,500-acre estate is not just a paradise for waders but also safe home to some of our rarest raptors. “We have peregrines in the quarries, buzzards, hen harriers, red kites and short-eared owls, and one of the highest concentrations of merlin in Europe. We are monitoring their nests in conjunction with Natural England – the estate was home to five breeding pairs this year.”
With such a cornucopia of wildlife I could happily wander the hills with only binoculars for company, but the gathering of men, women and dogs unfolding in front of me is here to shoot grouse, which are the financial driver that pays for crucial predator control and habitat management. The estate’s 6,000 acres of moorland is divided into Apedale and the higher altitude beat of West
Moor, which will be shot today – both scenic moors face south but some areas have been hard hit by heather beetle in recent years, which the headkeeper attributes to extreme and stressful weather patterns. “Historically we have burnt the beetle out,” he explains, “but there’s not much more we can do except let the weather take its course and hope it greens up again. We suffered wet, cold weather at hatching time this spring, which resulted in smaller broods as there were few insects for the chicks to eat, so it hasn’t been a brilliant year. This is our eighth shoot day but we have an eye on our stock going forward and there are some drives we won’t be doing again this season.”
West Moor is a long, narrow strip of heather marching with Earl Peel’s Grinton estate – where Sleightholm worked as a beatkeeper before “hopping back over the fence” into his Wensleydale home – and on shoot days is best suited by a northerly wind that helps to keep grouse on the Bolton side of the march, whereas a strong southerly can carry them over the boundary. The estate’s owner, Harry, 8th Baron Bolton, can trace family ownership of the surrounding land back to the 12th century; his realm includes the imposing Bolton Castle, where Mary, Queen of Scots was incarcerated in 1586, along with her vast retinue of knights, ladies-in-waiting and servants. Today’s September shoot is the second of two private days for Bolton’s family and friends, many of whom are regular annual guests.
Shoot vehicles creep uphill to high ground buffeted by a westerly bringing the promise of rain, but once the first drive gets underway it is clear birds will oblige in this wind and large coveys are soon flitting through the line. I stand this one out in driving rain with the Earl of Leicester – who is guardian of the wild English partridge at his Holkham estate in Norfolk and appreciates only too well the extent to which wild birds are dependent on kind weather at crucial times of year. “One of the upsides of a bad breeding season is that it’s a reminder God is in charge,” he reasons, before mounting his Harrison & Hussey with alacrity to knock down a succession of long-range birds the moment they sweep into view.
By the time his work is done the storm has swept eastwards towards the Vale of York, leaving clear blue skies, wet heather sparkling in bright sunshine and mist steaming from the higher peaks. Like several other guests, Leicester has brought his own dogs along. “We’ve had liver springer spaniels at Holkham ever since Gainsborough painted
them with my great-great-great grandfather,” he jokes, “but, seriously, it’s such a pleasure to help pick up with my own dogs – it’s a hugely enjoyable part of the day.”
I spend the second drive hunkered down in a crater – military training for el Alamein took place on these moors – discussing curlews with Lord Bolton’s eldest son, Tom Orde-powlett. “I’ve been fascinated by curlews all my life, they are part of our cultural heritage that I love to watch and hear,” reveals the former soldier, keen fieldsportsman and passionate conservationist. Orde-powlett was motivated to help the species after his step-grandfather told him, with tears in his eyes, how the beautiful waders had all but vanished from his childhood home in Shropshire. “I had taken them for granted up until then, so when the British Trust for Ornithology [BTO] launched its curlew appeal in 2015, I felt we should do everything we could to help.”
The BTO suggested the estate conduct research into its own population of resident curlew, for whilst most overwinter in saline estuaries up to 700 birds each year remain in the valley bottoms at Bolton, where they glean rich pickings from intensively managed grassland. Orde-powlett recruited a licensed cannon-netter and spent weeks studying his quarry before successfully catching 42 birds in 2016 – an exercise he describes as “needle in a haystack stuff” involving dummy nets, hours of meticulous observation and extreme patience. Detailed records were taken of every bird caught, after which they were ringed, colour marked on long legs for identification, and released.
Orde-powlett went on to co-found a festival to celebrate curlews at Bolton, which coincided with the arrival of scores of young chicks in June. “There is so much negative press about grouse moors,” he says. “I thought the best thing we can do is get people up into the hills and let them see for themselves.” The inaugural festival was an outstanding success and has become a much-anticipated annual event. According to a participant interviewed on Radio 4, “if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I would have believed the propaganda about grouse moors. It helps you to understand that things are not black and white.” Orde-powlett believes the event is also a boost for local gamekeepers, whose profession is often under scrutiny. “They get to meet visitors face to face and demonstrate their knowledge and commitment to conservation,” he says.
There is a long uphill yomp to reach butts for the drive before lunch, which has
partners and guns strung out across the heather like the participants in a straight hunt. “I love walking,” says Lord Bolton, when we eventually arrive at the butts. “Years ago, there wasn’t a single track up here and a pony used to bring panniers up for lunch. It’s not just my friends that have to walk, it’s also guns on let days – it doesn’t do them any harm.”
Paul Portz is on fine form at the top of the line, as befits a member of that rare breed of crack shots who get to face driven grouse in excess of 30 days a year. Travelling fast with the wind in their tails, many of Portz’s birds must be taken behind to avoid flanker David Leedale, drawing closer as the drive progresses. Leedale spent 37 years delivering post on bike and foot in these dales – “they thought a bit about you in those days”, he recalls – before turning to grouse moors on retirement. “I’m known as First Flank, that’s the one closest to the butts, but we call it death row,” he jokes. “When I’m in position, the first thing I do is stick my flag up so the guns can see where I am.”
It’s a downhill stroll beneath bright sunshine to lunch, during which we cross a succession of peaty burns tumbling merrily downhill to join the River Ure, where runs of Humber salmon are increasing year on year
– more than 40 were landed on the estate beats last season. The lunch hut is perched on a grassy knoll overlooking miles of wellmanaged moorland characterised by the classic patchwork of heather in varying stages of growth. Inside the substantial stone building the banter and leg pulling over coronation pheasant is raucous and jovial as befitting friends who have shot together for many years. Guests emerge blinking in bright sunshine for the final drive at Scarhill an hour later, where butts are denoted by blocks of green turf sunk into the line of a solid drystone wall. Beaters are in full view throughout, a long and productive manoeuvre in a keen wind that presses like a cold flannel on the back of exposed hands whenever clouds obscure the sun.
We are standing with our back to the brooding profile of distant Penhill, where few grouse have been shot this season. “We all understand this is a natural sport,” says Nigel Corner, who owns moorland nearby. “Some years there is an excess but in others we don’t get to shoot at all – but regardless of revenue, everyone remains employed. That’s grouse shooting – we all know the score.”
The dramatic landmark of Penhill may lie behind us but the action is all out in front where several coveys curl back into the wind, although enough come forward to produce a fitting finale for a thoroughly sporting day. “Bolton Castle really is the archetypal grouse moor,” pronounces Corner, before he sets off with his ginger cocker to help gather the bag. “It’s spectacularly beautiful, rich in wildlife and grouse, and has been under the same management for a very long time. What more could you ask?”
Contact Bolton estate on 01969 622303 or email: office@boltonestate.co.uk