An ancient past-time born out of necessity

Lady MacCalmont attends a pheasant shoot in Mount Juliet, Kilkenny, Ireland, November 1910. Picture: Hulton Archive/Getty Images
At the end of January, we will come to the end of another shooting season. The Ox Mountains are a popular hunting ground for those who still like to bag the occasional snipe or woodcock. There are mixed opinions about the age-old pursuit but, like it or loathe it, hunting has a long tradition going back to our earliest times.
It is widely believed that there was more than one kind of human species in the beginning. However, it seems that while some were stronger and larger, none had the intellect of Homo Sapiens, the only species to survive. We were able to outwit all other human types and indeed we were probably responsible for making them extinct. Our intelligence allowed us to dominate and, of course, it made us better hunters.
As hunter-gatherers, Homo Sapiens travelled far and wide, north and south in our ever-growing search for food. Even larger mammals, in the most extreme climate locations, proved attractive and posed no great problem to bring down. For example, the woolly mammoth was perused to extinction right into the furthest and coldest places on earth, as Home Sapiens continued to grow in numbers, appetite and intelligence.
So, from almost the very beginning, animals and birds were hunted. Our own ancient legends are peppered with accounts of days spent in pursuit of elusive game such as salmon, elk and deer. Killing such animals defined a great hunter; someone who would be hailed as a hero in his community. It seems that hunting has always been associated with competition, success against the odds and proof of one hunter’s ability over another.
Shooting and hunting, as we know it today, evolved from necessity; the animals and birds killed were an essential food source. Through the passage of time, the whole process became a sport and the game was seldom needed for sustenance. Hunting was just a way to prove the hunter’s ability, a trophy to be displayed, a pleasure to be enjoyed. David Jones, writing in
, provides background to these departures.
Despite such advances, it was during this time that the Irish peasantry struggled to survive. Smallholdings, difficulty in paying rent and eventual famine, placed millions of people on a survival footing. In such poverty, the temptation to poach the odd pheasant for lunch or the occasional hare for supper was often too much to resist. Estate gamekeepers were on the constant lookout of any such poachers. The crime, while minimal, often attracted the harshest of punishments. Deportation was demanded by many landlords and was freely handed down by magistrates who had probably enjoyed a day’s shooting on the same landlord’s estate the previous Sunday.
While such shoots still take place on landed estates here in Ireland, they are now few and far between. These days, anyone with a mind to do so can enjoy a day’s hunting, either alone with their dog or in the companionship of the local gun club. Gun clubs generally rear and release the birds they will shoot later in the year when the season opens on November Day. While the cock pheasant remains the ultimate trophy bird, snipe and woodcock demand a different skill from the hunter. With these, gunmen must be fast and accurate if they want either bird for soup the following day.
A number of species of birds are shot during the season, chief among them are pheasant, snipe, woodcock and mallard. Birdwatch Ireland provides a little bit of history and geography on each bird.

Pheasants are native to Asia, but were introduced into much of Europe by the Romans, possibly arriving in the UK with the Normans in the 11th century. Largely forgotten and locally extinct up until the 19th century, they became a popular gamebird once again and are extensively reared by gamekeepers.
In recent years, big game hunting is proving attractive and many hunters come from overseas to avail of what Ireland has to offer. Bookyourhunt.com gives and interesting insight into an aspect of tourism that many of us may find distasteful. Their blurb, Hunting in Ireland, makes for interesting reading and reflects tones of a bygone era.
As a younger man, I spent my Sundays walking the local bog fields with my gun. My dad was a keen shot, as they say, and mostly hunted for pheasant, mallard and hare - for food purposes only. Shooting was the only sport we had in common and it helped us to connect in a certain way. We could chat about shooting the same way that other men would chat about football or drinking.
I grew out of hunting as time passed, preferring instead to walk the fields without a gun. I still enjoy the thrill of a bird breaking cover but I no longer have the desire to shoot them down. These days, I get my soup in SuperValu.