A Plea for the Hare.
I never see a hare when out for a country walk or ride—it is different, I fear, when I have a gun in my hand or am following beagles—without thinking to myself, “Poor devil!” For here is an animal, one of the few mammals remaining to us in England, which is the essential to one branch of sport, and which plays a leading part in two others, absolutely unprotected by law even at the breeding season of the year, when all but the vilest vermin should enjoy immunity from persecution. “Unprotected by law,” however, is too mild a term, for the iniquitous Ground Game Act even goes so far as to actually sanction the destruction of hares the whole year round. I do not propose herein to deal with the manifold objections to this Act beyond what I may call this “all-the-year round” principle and the fact that it is framed without any knowledge of the natural history of the animal it professes to deal with. For though in some parts of Norfolk and elsewhere the enormous number of hares may possibly offer some defence for its perpetration, other localities in England are naturally so denuded of hares that the creatures demand almost as much protection as would a pair of golden eagles in Hyde Park. There is, in fact, just about as much common-sense in allowing this Act to have indiscriminate power all over our country as there would be in allowing the indiscriminate persecution of partridges all over Europe just because they happen to be especially numerous in Hungary!
To quote a case in point. I spent the first twenty years of my life in a part of Surrey which, if not very prolific in game, certainly produced a fair quantity. I never saw a hare in that district except on occasions when I was following the harriers, whereas in Norfolk I have over and over again counted ten or a dozen in one field; and yet the same law of extermination reigns supreme in either county. But if we feel aggrieved with those legislators who gave us the Ground Game Act, and whom no one in their wildest flights of imagination would accuse of being sportsmen, how much more indignant ought we to be with those who claim this title, and in that guise continue to persecute the hare long after the legitimate period of winter well into the months of spring? Opinions may differ as to the usual time for the appearance of the first litter of leverets; or perhaps I should leave out the word “litters,” as does often produce only a single youngster at a birth. I do not think, however, that I shall be unjust if I claim that naturalists will hold to the theory that young hares have in mild winters been found in January and February, and very commonly in March, while only those who wish to continue hunting or coursing through the mad month will advance the somewhat convenient idea that it is unusual to see leverets much before the end of April.
This very winter, on January 19th, I watched several groups of hares busily occupied in the pursuit of love-making. Assuming that their courtship lasted a full week, which is extremely unlikely, and that the period of gestation is anything between four and five weeks, it is fair to expect that several of the hares which I saw produced young ones early in March, and for at least the last ten days of February were in a totally unfit state to run before greyhounds, harriers, or beagles. And although the month in which I write is March, and in less than a week April will have arrived, I find in my copy of the Field the fixtures of no less than ten packs of harriers and beagles announced for the next seven days, and some of these without the welcome words, “to finish the season.” I hope the omission is accidental. From the same source I gather an account of a coursing meeting held as late as March 22nd, and it is quite safe to infer that many other less reputable clubs are still gaily continuing their season, and that there are a few packs of hounds still hunting puss who do not advertise their meets. And all through this time, which should be held sacred to the rites of love, in addition to coursing and hunting, the farmer continues to pump lead into the hind quarters of this unfortunate bundle of timidity.
I have mentioned as briefly as I could what we have done for the hare, let us now consider what she has done for us, and will continue to do, if we will only permit her. Out shooting we all know her charm. She may not be a very satisfactory animal to shoot at or even to kill, but the bag is not complete when we cannot add her to the total we gather round the covert-side or behind the hedges. Chiefly when partridge-driving we could least spare her cheery and monotony-breaking presence, that confiding way she has of sitting in the hedge opposite us and almost entering into conversation with us, and then her maddening habit of preferring the society of the beaters to our own. And, too, what a test of skill and quickness she affords in covert to the walking guns; and let us not forget how once—an all unconscious humourist—she beguiled an unfortunate M.F.H. into shooting a fox in mistake for her russet self! But it is not in the shooting-field that her chief business—her raison d’être, so to speak—lies; she plays a bigger part in the world of sport than that. There are, I believe, in England no less than one hundred and nineteen packs of harriers and forty-eight packs of beagles, making in all a total of a hundred and sixty-seven packs of hounds kept simply and solely to hunt the hare. Some of these, it is true, contain a considerable quantity of foxhound blood, but many are free from any taint of it whatsoever, and are as separate and distinct from foxhounds both in themselves and in their ancestors for all times as chalk is from cheese. These hounds exist chiefly in Lancashire, and also in Wales and Devonshire. But whether a hound is a true harrier, a diminutive foxhound, or a cross-bred, is of little importance in illustrating my point, so long as he is kept only for the purpose of pursuing the hare.
If we will consider the number of servants that each hunt has to employ, the quantity of food and fodder consumed by hounds and horses, where these latter are necessary, and multiply that result by a hundred and sixty-seven, we shall gain a rough estimate of the hare as an employer of labour and as a virtual principal in necessary purchases from farmers and various dealers.
I have not been able to accurately ascertain the number of coursing clubs existant in this country, but though they have diminished somewhat from the “good old days,” there are quite sufficient remaining to admit the claim that the cult of the greyhound resembles in a less degree the cult of the racehorse. The hare and the greyhound are quite inseparable; it is safe to say that without the former the latter would never have existed, nor would, even at this late stage of his evolution, continue to exist. If then, again, we will make a mental note of the quantity of kennels throughout the country, the work entailed by the Waterloo Cup and other less important meetings, the various employees of the Barbican Repository and Aldridge’s—though these places, of course, have other functions—we shall be bound to admit that in this branch of sport, again, the hare indirectly gives scope for a vast amount of labour. And she makes the money change hands, too, as witness the large prices now paid for greyhounds and the railway fares of spectators to various coursing meetings.
It is possible to gather from these rough facts something of the economic importance of this sandy mistress of the woods and fields; it is quite impossible to estimate how much health-giving pleasure she gives to the devotees of sport or to what enormous numbers she gives it. This point I can safely leave to the imagination of the reader. I have explained that the hare is entirely responsible for the existence of greyhound, harrier, and beagle, and to these three species I would add the Norfolk lurcher, an animal of unenviable reputation, but sometimes of extraordinary beauty, and an incalculable and perfectly legitimate assistance to the warrener. It remains only for me to touch lightly on her culinary value, to call to mind how she may be jugged, roasted, braised, hidden away in soups and game-pies, served as an entrée in a dozen different forms, and I have finished an extraordinary catalogue of virtues for one little animal. The sporting kings that came before us, the Richards, the Williams, and the Georges, knew her worth, and with divers pains and penalties forbade her indiscriminate destruction. Their actions gave us a goodly heritage of hares; and for what? That we should treat her with as little consideration as we show to a stoat or a rat, although she is less defenceless in her habits than these; that we should ruthlessly proceed to exterminate the goose that lays so many golden eggs.
Hunted and coursed till far too late in the season, shot and snared all the year round, without a hole or burrow wherein to hide her inconveniently large body, how long will she survive these methods save in the sacred precincts of the large game preserves whose owners—good luck to them!—drive a motor-car through the Ground Game Act? The Hare Preservation Act, the only legislation in her favour at present existant, is not worth the parchment the precious document is written on; for it only prohibits the sale of English hares during March, April, May, June and July. Of foreign hares it says nothing, and many foreign hares differ so little from the English ones that no one can tell the difference! And poor puss does not ask for much, she would like, as would all her friends, the abolition of the Ground Game Act; but, failing this, she only wants one little Act to give her immunity from death or danger from February 28th—or a little earlier if possible—to September 1st; and does she not deserve it?
Alan R. Haig Brown.