68 SEPTEMBER 2019 WWW.SHOOTINGGAZETTE.CO.UK
genuinelyinterestingtimesin
conservation.WAGBI,theRSPB
andRSPCAhadbeenarounda
while,but,withinthespaceof a
fewyears,groupsliketheCPRE,
BTOandBFSSwereformed.Issues
werebeingraised,lineswere being
drawnandstallssetout.
Aswithtoday,thepersecution
ofraptorsbygamekeepers
wasa hottopic,butit wasthe
decimationof thegreypartridge
bystrongylosisthatinspired
MajorH.G.Eley,a cartridge
makeremployedbyICI,together
withCharlesColesandDoug
Middleton,tosetupthe ICI Game
ResearchStation.
Laterto becometheGame&
WildlifeConservationTrust,it has
examinedtheplightof wildlifeand
provided solutions ever since.
Changing times
Myfirstencounterwithpartridges
wasas a youngchild,withmy
fatherin Oxford.Dadwasthefirst
of threegenerationsnotto bea
gamekeeper,althoughhiscareerhad
beencutshortbygasduringWorld
WarI renderinghimnotfitenough
tokeepgameanylonger.
Despitethis,theideaof the
outdoorexistencehadnotevaded
Dadaltogetherandwewouldwalk
thefieldshehadwalkedas a boy,
fishingthesamerivers and browsing
thesamehedges.
I rememberwithgreatclarity
walkingacrossa fieldwhenhe
suddenlystoppedandpointed
ahead.I lookedand 50 yardsorso
aheadsomebirdsliftedandmade
forthefarhedge.Greypartridges,
abouteightof them.
“Shootthemwhentheycross,”
hesaid.Wehadnoguns– Dad
gotthroughhislife’sworthof
gunpowder,sixfeetat a timein
tropicalheatduringWorldWarII,
butheraisedhisstickand swung
throughallthesame.
Astheyearspassedthefield
became bisected by a new road, a
Whowouldhavethoughtthat,
as thecountryin generalseemed
to emptyof theseprettybirds,this
coveyhadbeensparedfrommodern
agriculture and criminal activities.Diminutive mugger
Thenextsequenceof events
convincedmeof partridgemagic.
WewereontheBASCstandat the
Southof EnglandShow,blissful
times.Thevisitorswere,as ever,
friendlyandmanywerehappy
victimsof myyoungson,whowas
outin frontmuggingpassers-by for
thepriceof a raffleticket.
Amanenteredthescene,and
ignoringthediminutivemuggerhe
approachedandaskeda question.
Mycolleague,at length,asked:
“Wouldthegentlemanliketo
entertherafflefora nicesingle
malt?”Hewouldn’t.I eyed
him,nicejacket,goodshoes.I
smiledandthechapstrodeaway.
A momentpassed,andslowly
thekindwords,thoughtsand
pleasantriesof thedayseemedto
ceasetheirdanceandsay,as one,
“Waita minute!”Mycolleague,the
regionalofficer,watchedin increasing
horror,hiseyebrows,rising,fought
forspacewithhisfringe.Untilin
whatwasleftof thebreathI hadin
mybody,I gasped,“AndI bethe’ll
beoffshootingpartridgeall season!”
Thepregnantpausegathered
itselfupandwithonelastheavemy
colleaguesaid,“WellI wasthinking
ofinvitingyouupthisseason”.
Fortunately,theearthdidn’topen
up,butthepartridgeelementwas
heavyin theairandevena single
downyfeatherwouldhavedropped
me.Sureenough,laterthatyear,
standingin thestubble,trousers
tuckedintomywellies,mybudget
boxlockwaited.Amongthelineof
Londonguns,several shouts rose.
“Partriiiidge!”
I swungthroughandall I sawwas
barrelsandsky.I squeezedthetrigger
andlooked,theshothit home and
the partridge fell.bridgenowcrossedtheriverand
thewoodenferryfellintodisrepair.
Atarmackedfootpathappeared
andallowedaccesstojoyriders on
night-timesprees.
Everyyearit seemed,the
farmer’seffortswerethwartedby
somedumpedandburningwreck
orother.Andyetbeyondthis
imageof destruction,a sanctuaryof
conservationhid.Cyclists,motorists
andwalkerspassed,obliviousto
theserendipitouscordonagainst
modernity and monoculture.RightupuntilweleftOxford
altogether,oftenwithmyown
children,I wouldwalkacrossthe
fields,waryof thewindandquiet
as I hadbeentaught.I knewthatif
I werelucky,if theskylarks– and
therewereloadsof them– didn’t
givemeaway,thatscenewould
replay,andevenwithoutDadto
point 30 yearson,thecompletely
wildandunprotectedgreypartridge
wouldstillflutter,liftanddrift away,
complaining as it did.Thoughredlegsaremorecommon
thangreys,thepartridgeisstill
as revered as it ever has been.