A short excursion in falconry

30 September 1899, Elstead.

Just before lunch Uncle Charles shot a peregrine falcon; it was hit only, as far as I could see, in the muscles of the breast and in the wings, no bones being broken. I took the bird with me to London in a sack.

The peregrine, named Charlie after his assailant, recovered from his wounds and Collingwood trained him and also bought two Eleanora Falcons from a bird dealer for 17/-6d the pair. Charlie died at the end of the year, but Collingwood bought another peregrine and a goshawk. It’s not clear how much success he had in training them, but in April he travelled to Amesbury to go out with the famous Hawking Club on Salisbury Plain.

16 April 1900, Amesbury

……  I sent my card to Mr Lascelles (who is principal of the Club) and he kindly showed me the hawks weathering behind the hotel, saying they intended to start at 12. At a quarter to, the hawks were hooded up and placed in the specially constructed van. The perches were built in parallel rows about a foot apart at the back of the vehicle, which had the appearance of a carrier’s cart. About 6 falcons and 3 tiercels were taken. One tiercel, [1] Persimmon, was left at home being a famous game hawk, for which purpose I believe they wished to keep him and besides he was commencing his moult. He killed 37 grouse last season.

…… Almost directly we left the village we came across a little congregation of rooks, and Oxer (the falconer) immediately took the falcon “Saucy Puss” from the van and went down wind of them and waited at about 100 yards distance until they were disturbed by one of the equestrians. Scarcely had our black friends stretched their wings before Oxer, with a swinging motion, unhooding her as he did, hurled his hawk into the air. She, without the slightest delay, at once made for the fugitives and in an incredibly short time came up with them and at the first stoop all but collared her quarry; a quick shift just saved him, but he so nearly came to the ground that I saw a dark foot give a helping push to aid him remount. Hardly had he risen a dozen yards before the merciless “Puss” was again at him – the hurried shift was this time of no avail and I saw the hawk strike him, as it appeared almost from the side and they both came to the ground in a puzzling mass of feathers.