Think Like a Pheasant by Quiller Publishing

THINK like a PHEASANT Brian Mitchell and the Rise of the Exmoor High Bird

BRIAN MITCHELL

with Stephen Manning

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Copyright ÂŠ 2014 Brian Mitchell and Stephen Manning This edition first published in the UK in 2014 by Quiller, an imprint of Quiller Publishing Ltd British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

ISBN 978 1 84689 200 4 The right of Brian Mitchell and Stephen Manning to be identified as the authors of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Design and Patent Act 1988. The information in this book is true and complete to the best of our knowledge. All recommendations are made without any guarantee on the part of the Publisher, who also disclaims any liability incurred in connection with the use of this data or specific details. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission from the Publisher in writing. Typeset by Arabella Ainslie Edited by Kirsty Ennever Printed in the UK by TJ International

Quiller

An imprint of Quiller Publishing Ltd

Wykey House, Wykey, Shrewsbury SY4 1JA Tel: 01939 261616 Fax: 01939 261606 E-mail: info@quillerbooks.com Website: www.quillerpublishing.com

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Dedications

To my lovely devoted wife Angie, and my dear supportive friend, Alan Milton. Brian Mitchell

To retired gamekeeper Sid Parris, who first introduced me to shooting and whom I blame for costing me a small fortune ever since. Stephen Manning

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Acknowledgement

Brian and Stephen would like to extend their sincere thanks to Prince Eric Sturdza and E.I.Sturdza Strategic Management Limited for their sponsorship of this publication

Photograph Credits All photography by Charles Sainsbury-Plaice, except for the following: Becky Peat, The Team, page 7 colour plates Becky Peat, The Annual Boxing Day Shoot, page 8 colour plates Brian Mitchell, Angie, page 8 colour plates Stephen Manning, front cover

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CONTENTS

Preface 9 Introduction 11 1

The Morning After the Season Before

An Early Love of the Country

Mapperton – A New Life and a New Challenge

Miltons and the Goal of the Exmoor High Bird

Castle Hill – A New Beginning

‘Prevention Better Than Cure…’

106

‘Not Always the Most Popular Guy…’

137

The Future of the Exmoor High Bird

163

Legacy and the Future

185

Postscript 208 Index

211

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CHaPTEr ONE

The Morning After the Season Before

he date of 2nd February is as significant and memorable to me as if it was my birthday or even Christmas Day. As a gamekeeper I have experienced nearly fifty such anniversaries and all follow the same initial pattern. As the morning light seeps in through the bedroom curtains, I am stirred awake by the pain that throbs through my temples, across my forehead and then envelops my whole body. Nearly all of us will have experienced that sort of pain at some point in our lives, but I know it is a feeling I will experience on every 2nd February, as long as I remain a gamekeeper. The honourable profession of gamekeeping is not just a job, it is a vocation, a way of life, and is something I have been privileged to do, as I say, for close to fifty years. The last weeks of any season are always frantic as every available shooting day is taken up with 15 This media remains the property of Quiller Publishing Ltd. Think Like a Pheasant Internals V2.indd 15

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Think like a pheasant

syndicate days, bought days and the much-loved beaters’ day. As the final day of the season is reached, on 1st February, there is still no time to reflect on what has gone, no time for a pat on the back, for there remains one last beaters’ lunch, one last bowl of soup, one last drive and one final shot before it all comes to an end for another year. For the past four months of the season I have been, it often seems, living in the pockets of the same good, reliable folk who have turned up on every shoot day, whatever the weather, to beat, pick up or load. I have an enormous amount of respect for them all. Sharing their company is a joy and I consider many of them to be firm friends, who have helped to keep me sane during the odd stressful moment when my best-laid plans didn’t quite go to form. Their conversation, their humour and their passion for our sport is always a highlight of any season and it is truly a strange feeling of longing once the season is over, knowing that the intense relationship you have had with such colleagues is gone for another eight months. I must admit that I do feel rather lost when that final day is over. Yet there is still one more event to undertake before the season is over and that is the beaters’ dinner. Even though I am often both physically and mentally exhausted by the rigours of the season, this last evening is never a ritual, never a chore, but a great opportunity to relax, unwind, thank many of my friends and colleagues and to have a beer, or two. Well, to be frank, it is always more than two and the evening frequently continues into the early hours of 2nd February… hence the pain on waking. It is not just the hangover that has become a regular feature of the end of the season. Through the fog and pain I am able, at last, to collect my muddled thoughts on how successful the previous months have been. Despite all the planning and hard work, no season is the same and I must reflect on what have been the great successes, and the occasional disappointments, so as to learn how to improve the shoot for the following year. So whilst 2nd February is usually spent sitting in my kitchen in the company of a cup of 16 This media remains the property of Quiller Publishing Ltd. Think Like a Pheasant Internals V2.indd 16

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The Morning After the Season Before

black coffee and an aspirin, my brain is beginning to reflect and is already focusing on what needs to be done over the months ahead. On this day I find that I am, at best, physically weary, if not completely exhausted, but I still have to get out of the house to feed the surviving birds, even with a hangover! Gamekeeping, and running a shoot day, is not an exact science and nothing is predictable. This in itself is exhausting both to the body and soul and certainly some seasons are harder than others. A very wet season, like that of 2012-13, may be beneficial in keeping the birds from wandering too far, but it introduces an additional pressure in that simply getting to feeders and moving guns and beaters around on shoot days can be extremely testing. A drier year, in which wild food is plentiful, often means that many hours are spent pushing the straying birds back towards the shoot. As I say, no season follows the same pattern as any other. When I began my gamekeeping career, at the age of sixteen, what I lacked in experience and knowledge I certainly made up for in youthful enthusiasm. I did have the sense to listen and I rapidly learnt the secrets and necessities of my new trade from some very good teachers. Back then, a shoot day – during which I could walk a dozen miles or more, up and down valley sides – was taken in my young stride, as were the several pints of beer at the end of the day. Now, whilst I am still, thankfully, able to cover the miles, my body sometimes complains and, like most folk as they age, I have found that although I can still down the beers, the consequences are more severe. This is never truer than on those 2nd February mornings. Part of the ritual on these days is to kid myself that I really must avoid a hangover next time… yet surrounded by friends, with the great relief of knowing that the season has been a success, I am well aware that just one more beer will always seem like a good idea. During the season, we at Castle Hill shoot four times a week; normally Monday, Tuesday and Friday, Saturday, which does not allow much time for ‘normal’ life to intrude. This work pattern, 17 This media remains the property of Quiller Publishing Ltd. Think Like a Pheasant Internals V2.indd 17

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CHaPTEr TWO

An Early Love of the Country

he year 1948 was an Olympic year, with the games held in a bomb-scarred London. It was also the year I was born, the youngest of two children, my sister, Brenda, having arrived two years earlier. I grew up in the village of Milborne Port on the Somerset-Dorset border. My father, Stanley, was the Head Gardener at a large country house, Ven House. He was a very strict father and if ever I misbehaved I would incur his wrath, but I had total respect for him. We lived in the old gamekeeperâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s cottage, attached to the Estate. My childhood was spent surrounded by, and in, the countryside and it must have been in these early years that I acquired my love and respect of all things country. My father kept bees, harvested and sold the honey, grew fruit and vegetables for the family table, with some to spare, and his pride and joy was the cultivation of carnations which, much to his delight, frequently 20 This media remains the property of Quiller Publishing Ltd. Think Like a Pheasant Internals V2.indd 20

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An Early Love of the Country

won prizes at our annual village flower and produce show. There is no doubt that my father encouraged an understanding of nature and this was no more true than on our regular family Sunday walks, which we enjoyed after one of my mother’s wonderful lunches. Folk were just so much more connected to the countryside then, whether for work or the fact that they were surrounded by it, than we are today. Fruit and vegetables were, unlike today, strictly seasonal and I can still recall my mother’s delicious puddings produced from whatever was in season. I always enjoyed the first peas or runner beans from the garden and the flavour of English strawberries, eaten when they were perfectly ripe, was simply magical. Our Sunday outings are one of the few memories of time spent with both my mother and father during my childhood for, like many families, my parents worked extremely hard to feed and clothe us. Whilst my father supplemented his wages with produce from our garden, as well as the honey, my mother, Lilly, was an out-worker for the Ensor glove-making business, which was based in Milborne Port, and she would spend hours in our smoke-filled kitchen stitching gloves. Indeed it sometimes seemed that this task took over her life and I do recall that she would sometimes work for days on end to complete a large order. Tragically, my mother died of cancer when I was just fourteen, a victim of her devotion to Senior Service cigarettes. My mother’s death gave me a lifelong hatred of smoking and a firm determination never to do it myself. My parents introduced my sister and me to the flowers of the hedgerows and to the seasons. Although these are wonderful memories they are tinged with sadness, for not only were they brief moments in my life but these Sunday walks also coincided with the outbreak of myxomatosis amongst the rabbit population. In my mind’s eye I can still clearly see images of the suffering this dreadful disease inflicted upon those unfortunate animals. I am convinced that the consequences were significantly more farreaching than just the horrors the rabbits had to endure. Before the onset of the myxomatosis outbreak, rabbit meat was a staple 21 This media remains the property of Quiller Publishing Ltd. Think Like a Pheasant Internals V2.indd 21

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CHaPTEr SIx

‘Prevention Better Than Cure…’

y job is complicated, but in a good way, by the fact that I am employed by the syndicate but work with and alongside the Estate. Naturally, many of the clients Peter Baxendale brings to Castle Hill are enthralled not just by the shooting and the stunningly beautiful Devon countryside but also by the House, its gardens and setting, as well as the accommodation and the entertaining opportunities that it provides. The shoot, including the one at Temple, and the House are now synonymous with the Estate and I know Lady Arran takes great pride in that it all works so well together. The Fortescue family has always shown a keen interest in shooting. Lady Margaret Fortescue very much enjoyed joining the picking-up team when she was able and sometimes came out twice a week. Lady Arran has the responsibility of making sure everything in the House is 106 This media remains the property of Quiller Publishing Ltd.

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perfect for the guns on their return and will often join them for lunch in the shoot lodge. I am sure that she views both the Temple and Castle Hill shoots as real assets to the Estate and takes what might be termed a maternalistic approach to them and to their role in enhancing the name and reputation of Castle Hill around the world. From 2nd February to early October my job can be a lonely one but I always know that if I need to discuss something or offload about any issue I can roar into the courtyard by the Estate Office and find someone with whom to share a chat and a cup of tea, which is a great help and comfort. Hugh Thomas moved on from the estate management side of Castle Hill around fifteen years ago, although he still deals with many of the legal requirements of the syndicate. Since Hugh’s departure, Paul Smalley of Savills has handled the estate and business management at Castle Hill. He deals with the let property and its maintenance directly with the tenants, as well as overseeing repairs to the main buildings and all Estate activities overseas. His involvement with forestry management means that he is the first port of call for both shoots and it is in this area that I have most contact with him. We speak quite regularly, though usually at speed! As is my way, I announce my arrival by tearing into the yard, shout a loud greeting to Margaret on reception, grab a quick chat with Paul – usually in my role as eyes and ears for the Estate, for frequently it is I or my keepers who first spot a fence down or a fallen tree blocking a route – and then I roar off again. The meeting is usually over within five minutes! Although I like to think that I do have a good overall view of the Estate and how its many components interlock or overlap, I am first and foremost the Head Keeper. Historically the opposing demands of forestry and game birds can be an area of conflict, if not a battleground. Certainly it is on this subject that Paul and I have our greatest discussions. We both try our best to resolve areas of disagreement but sometimes each of us will dig our heels in. That said, our relationship is not one of confrontation but of 107 This media remains the property of Quiller Publishing Ltd. Think Like a Pheasant Internals V2.indd 107

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‘Prevention Better Than Cure...’

be my number one priority but they are of great importance to the Estate and of course I respect and understand this. It is another example of the need for me to see the bigger picture; but this certainly does not stop me from being cheeky and trying to get away with the odd trick! We have more than thirty drives at Castle Hill, all of which are fed to some extent by cover crops. For example on the Sandy Park drive (see diagram A), the guns are placed at the bottom of a very deep valley that initially slopes gently. We would normally only do this drive on a north-easterly wind as a backup to the Kite’s Nest drive on the other side of the valley, which is the westerly wind drive. Alternatively, we might do this drive as a ‘catch-out’ drive as the birds might have strayed away from Kite’s Nest into Sandy Park. The cover crop is five acres in size with miscanthus grass in the centre of it. These grasses used to be surrounded by maize, but, due to the elevation of the drive and the nature of the soil, maize was a crop that struggled to thrive. Diagram A

Sandy Park -‐ 5 acres of cover crop N ↙ Wild Bird Mix

Grass

Utopia

Wild Bird Mix

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