The late Lord Randolph Churchill, in the House of Commons, 1883, alluding to Monte Carlo doings, gave an effective description of a pigeon-shooting scene:
“He had had the opportunity, he said, of watching the sight at Monte Carlo, though he had never had the satisfaction of killing a pigeon himself. The pigeon-shooting at Monte Carlo was conducted on the same principles as that at Hurlingham, and under similar rules. He saw the birds taken out of the basket, and before being put into the trap a man cut their tails with a large pair of scissors. That probably was not very cruel, because he only cut the quill, though at times he seemed to cut very close. But worse followed. After cutting the tail, he saw the man take the bird in one hand, and with the other tear a great bunch of feathers from the breast and stomach of every pigeon. On asking the man what he did that for, he replied that it was to stimulate the birds, in order that, maddened by excitement and pain, they might take a more eccentric leap in the air, and increase the chance of the pigeon gamblers.
“He saw another very curious thing, too. One of the pigeons was struck and fell to the ground; but when the dog went to pick it up, the wretched bird fluttered again in the air, and for an appreciable time it remained so fluttering, just a little higher than the dog could jump. While the bird’s fate was thus trembling in the balance, the betting was fast and furious, and when at last the pigeon tumbled into the dog’s jaws, he would never forget the shout of triumph and yell of execration that rose from the ring-men and gentlemen.”
Now, what honest-minded man can approve of such a performance as this? Yet the so-called sport is in much favour still, from aristocratic gatherings down to those promoted by low public-houses.
It is surely of the nature of anything claiming to be legitimate sport, that the quarry should be in its natural, wild condition, and should have a chance of saving its life from its would-be destroyer. What chance of this kind has a dazed pigeon, fluttering from a box in the presence of guns ready to fire the moment it appears? The whole thing is cowardly and contemptible, and should be suppressed by law. This fate it would have met in 1883 had the House of Lords done its duty as well as the House of Commons; for a Bill which aimed at its abolition was rejected in the former House after it had passed in the latter.
More lately, however, there has occurred an event which proves that the views we hold respecting pigeon-shooting are beginning to find acceptance with the public. As everybody is aware, the Hurlingham Club used to lend its patronage to this sport, but recently a change in its policy took place. A meeting of members was held, and the question was put to the vote, whether the shooting of pigeons from traps should be any longer permitted in the grounds. A two-thirds majority decided that it should be abolished. The minority endeavoured to get this settlement reversed by law, but they were unsuccessful.
It was instructive, as well as cheering, to observe the favour with which the Press as a whole received the judgment delivered by Mr. Justice Joyce on the case submitted to him.
As an example of newspaper utterances I may quote the comments of the Daily News of February 26, 1906:
“All those who believe that 1906 is better as regards blood-sports than 1868 will rejoice that Hurlingham is not to be bound fast to the older date, and its defective morality. Pigeon-shooting is emphatically not now—as Mr. Justice Joyce said it was considered in 1868—a manly sport, fit for gentlemen. It may seem a hard saying to those who, having acquired proficiency in the practice, have lost their sense of moral truth. The fashion at Hurlingham has slowly changed in deference to surrounding opinion. Pigeon-shooting has not only its negative side of unmanliness, but the positive side of cruelty, and we are glad that the Club is not so indissolubly built on this base sport but that a two-thirds majority may decide when the time has come to abolish it.”