Opposition and protest against otter hunting
Though otter hunting clearly enjoyed the support of a dedicated band of followers, especially in the countryside, it would be wrong to presume that the inherent barbarity of the “sport” went unremarked upon. Indeed, there were rumblings of discontent as early as the early 1890s, so in fact very soon after the establishment of organised otter hunting. At the forefront of the movement against blood-sports at this time was the Humanitarian league, founded in 1891. The league was concerned with the broad application of “humaneness”, the idea that it is, “iniquitous to inflict suffering, directly or indirectly, on any sentient being, except when self-defence or absolute necessity can justly be pleaded.”
In a 1901 paper published in the league’s journal, the prominent and prolific campaigner for animal rights, Colonel William Lisle Blenkinsopp Coulson, wrote the following.
With the exception of the hare-hunt men and women possibly never sink so low as they do when they join an Otter-Worry. There is no danger, no risk, absolutely no excuse for this form of baiting except the insensate one of a lust for blood
The public became more aware of otter hunting’s dubious reputation due to a case in 1905 brought by the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals against the Master of the Cheriton Otter Hounds. He and three other members of the hunt were found guilty of using cats to train dogs to “bolt” otters, that is to say drive the otters from hiding places. To train the terriers, cats were placed in a specially constructed wooden tunnel, into which the terriers were introduced.
Further cases followed that began to sow seeds of doubt in the minds of the public, that the rather idyllic and anodyne reports of otter hunting described in the press were camouflage for a cruel and unnecessary pastime.
The hunting fraternity seems to have responded to the nascent protest movement with the rather dubious argument that otter hunting wasn’t nearly as cruel as other ways of despatching otters. A good example of this is to be found in the Field Magazine of March 26th, 1904, whose correspondent makes the following extraordinary statement, condemning those who trapped otters rather than hunting them, singling out, “…the great cruelty inflicted on an otter when caught in a trap (which is usually by a foot or claw), where it may linger for hours until knocked on the head by its captor.”
This sort of equivocation is very much in evidence over the years. The “Country Diary” column of the August 28th, 1912, Manchester Guardian promotes not the banning of otter hunting, but rather urges the removal of the cruellest elements. Give the otter a “sporting chance” says the columnist, implying strongly that the true “sportsman” is a person whose goal is to remove suffering (the long chases are particularly criticised) and to kill only when necessary. It is a rather muddled and mixed message, but at least shows that even then, there was a growing sense that there was much that was indefensible about otter hunting, even if the columnist could not bring himself to call for an outright ban.
Another line deployed in an attempt to detoxify the sport was that the traditional 3-pronged spear that was once used to impale otters had long since been consigned to the past. An infamous 1844 painting by Sir Edwin Landseer of a hunter spearing an otter shows the use of the spear in gruesome detail, but the Book of the Otter by Richard Clapham, (published 1922), offers the following salve to the guilty conscience. “To-day, however, all such abominations have been done away with, and now it is left for hounds to hunt and kill their otter, if they can, unaided.” One can clearly make an argument that a relatively quick dispatch by a spear might have been preferable to the otter than to meet its end, torn apart by a pack of hounds. Strictly speaking of course, neither end would be preferable for the otter, but that the writer was able to engage in the mental gymnastics necessary to proffer his argument is telling.
With the dissolution of the Humanitarian League in 1911, the torch of protest was subsequently passed to the League for the Prohibition of Cruel Sports, which was founded in 1924. This organisation began to deploy the then novel tactic of direct action. It may even be that the very first attempt by members of the public to disrupt an otter hunt was against the Bucks Otter Hunt.
Organised in April of 1931 by the Oxford branch of the league, the demonstration (comprising a number of women and the master of an Oxford school) confronted the arriving supporters of the hunt at Islip with banners bearing such words as, “Abolish the Shameful Sport of Otter-hunting” and “Stand up for the Helpless.” The hunt attempted to ignore the protesters, but as the Lancashire Evening Post of April 28th, reported, “a wordy warfare soon broke out” with the hunt harangued by several women, expressing sentiments such as, “Shame on you, you cruel devils” and “it is a pity you don’t get chased yourself.” One woman addressed a crowd of onlookers until she was shouted down, while the Daily Mirror reported that one man threatened to throw the hunt master into a stream. William Uthwatt was reported to have described the protest as a “joke”, but it must have been something of a shock and surprise to find himself confronted, perhaps for the first time in his life, by protesters.
Further cases followed that began to sow seeds of doubt in the minds of the public, that the rather idyllic and anodyne reports of otter hunting described in the press were camouflage for a cruel and unnecessary pastime.
The hunting fraternity seems to have responded to the nascent protest movement with the rather dubious argument that otter hunting wasn’t nearly as cruel as other ways of despatching otters. A good example of this is to be found in the Field Magazine of March 26th, 1904, whose correspondent makes the following extraordinary statement, condemning those who trapped otters rather than hunting them, singling out, “…the great cruelty inflicted on an otter when caught in a trap (which is usually by a foot or claw), where it may linger for hours until knocked on the head by its captor.”
This sort of equivocation is very much in evidence over the years. The “Country Diary” column of the August 28th, 1912, Manchester Guardian promotes not the banning of otter hunting, but rather urges the removal of the cruellest elements. Give the otter a “sporting chance” says the columnist, implying strongly that the true “sportsman” is a person whose goal is to remove suffering (the long chases are particularly criticised) and to kill only when necessary. It is a rather muddled and mixed message, but at least shows that even then, there was a growing sense that there was much that was indefensible about otter hunting, even if the columnist could not bring himself to call for an outright ban.
Another line deployed in an attempt to detoxify the sport was that the traditional 3-pronged spear that was once used to impale otters had long since been consigned to the past. An infamous 1844 painting by Sir Edwin Landseer of a hunter spearing an otter shows the use of the spear in gruesome detail, but the Book of the Otter by Richard Clapham, (published 1922), offers the following salve to the guilty conscience. “To-day, however, all such abominations have been done away with, and now it is left for hounds to hunt and kill their otter, if they can, unaided.” One can clearly make an argument that a relatively quick dispatch by a spear might have been preferable to the otter than to meet its end, torn apart by a pack of hounds. Strictly speaking of course, neither end would be preferable for the otter, but that the writer was able to engage in the mental gymnastics necessary to proffer his argument is telling.
With the dissolution of the Humanitarian League in 1911, the torch of protest was subsequently passed to the League for the Prohibition of Cruel Sports, which was founded in 1924. This organisation began to deploy the then novel tactic of direct action. It may even be that the very first attempt by members of the public to disrupt an otter hunt was against the Bucks Otter Hunt.
Organised in April of 1931 by the Oxford branch of the league, the demonstration (comprising a number of women and the master of an Oxford school) confronted the arriving supporters of the hunt at Islip with banners bearing such words as, “Abolish the Shameful Sport of Otter-hunting” and “Stand up for the Helpless.” The hunt attempted to ignore the protesters, but as the Lancashire Evening Post of April 28th, reported, “a wordy warfare soon broke out” with the hunt harangued by several women, expressing sentiments such as, “Shame on you, you cruel devils” and “it is a pity you don’t get chased yourself.” One woman addressed a crowd of onlookers until she was shouted down, while the Daily Mirror reported that one man threatened to throw the hunt master into a stream. William Uthwatt was reported to have described the protest as a “joke”, but it must have been something of a shock and surprise to find himself confronted, perhaps for the first time in his life, by protesters.
For an extremely authoritative history of the early days of opposition to otter hunting, it is recommended to read An incredibly vile sport’: Campaigns against Otter Hunting in Britain, 1900–39, By Daniel Allen , Charles Watkins and David Matless.
No reports of protests against the Bucks Otter Hunt have been discovered in the immediate years after this, but it would be hard to imagine that the two sides did not continue to spar over the fate of the otter. When next we pick up a direct challenge to the hunt, it appears in the July 16th, 1960 edition of the Bucks Standard, which carried a letter from J.C. Sharp, the secretary of the League Against Cruel Sports.
No reports of protests against the Bucks Otter Hunt have been discovered in the immediate years after this, but it would be hard to imagine that the two sides did not continue to spar over the fate of the otter. When next we pick up a direct challenge to the hunt, it appears in the July 16th, 1960 edition of the Bucks Standard, which carried a letter from J.C. Sharp, the secretary of the League Against Cruel Sports.
Sir – Otter hunting has resumed in your district. To deliberately worry a cat or other domestic animal is a criminal offence, but to worry a highly sensitive creature like an otter, perhaps for four hours or more, is only considered “good sport” and something to brag about. On two occasions last season our investigators witnessed otters bludgeoned with the poles the hunters carry.
It is high time that a performance of such a vicious character should be swept away entirely, and we would appeal to land owners to issue orders against their property being invaded by hounds. A number have already done so, but if all humane landlords would act in the this way it would go far to put a stop to this barbarous recreation.
The Retford, Gainsborough & Worksop Times of August 6th, 1965, provides an interesting insight into the tactics of protesters, who are reported to have smeared themselves with aniseed, and had “completely bamboozled” the bucks otterhounds. The atmosphere was described as hostile, but a hunt representative claimed they had hardly been aware of the presence of protesters, though they were, “surprised at the saboteurs’ discourtesy.” Master of the hunt Mrs Haswell stuck to the well-worn line that the sport was fair because the otter is a clever animal and the betting was always on its side.
Just as J.C. Sharp of the League Against Cruel Sports had encouraged in his letter reproduced previously, the hunt was prevented by police from hunting on private ground, in this instance Elkesley vicarage, whose incumbent the Reverend Woodgate had made plain his objection. On this occasion, the hunt went home without a kill, which by this time seems to have been more and more the outcome.
Just as J.C. Sharp of the League Against Cruel Sports had encouraged in his letter reproduced previously, the hunt was prevented by police from hunting on private ground, in this instance Elkesley vicarage, whose incumbent the Reverend Woodgate had made plain his objection. On this occasion, the hunt went home without a kill, which by this time seems to have been more and more the outcome.
Otter hunter vs anglers
You might naturally imagine that the broader hunting fraternity would present a united front as regards their “sporting” pursuits, but this was far from the case. One such fascinating dispute was played out in the letters page of the Rugby Advertiser in 1896, upon one side the organised otter hunters and on the other the anglers who preferred to shoot the animals as vermin. This story is particularly interesting as it directly involves the Uthwatt family of Great Linford Manor.
The spat started on January 4th, when a rather brief and anodyne account was printed concerning the shooting of two “very fine otters” on the river Leam by a group of persons named as messrs, Hincks, H. Goodache Jnr and W.L. Walker. This triggered the following response by Gerard Uthwatt of the Bucks Otter Hunt, which was published on February 22nd.
The spat started on January 4th, when a rather brief and anodyne account was printed concerning the shooting of two “very fine otters” on the river Leam by a group of persons named as messrs, Hincks, H. Goodache Jnr and W.L. Walker. This triggered the following response by Gerard Uthwatt of the Bucks Otter Hunt, which was published on February 22nd.
KILLING OTTERS ON THE LEAM. To the Editor of the Advertiser.
Sir - Your paper of a few weeks ago has been brought to my notice, which an account of the death of otters on the Leam. It states that Messrs. Hinkes. H. Goodacre, jun., and W. L. Walker had succeeded in shooting two fine otters, one which weighed 26lbs. That an otter should weigh 26lbs. Is about as remarkable as that an ox should weigh nine-score per quarter. I do hope and trust that the success of these gentlemen will not be followed up by others in the district, because it will be quite useless my bringing the hounds again into Warwickshire to meet with such sore disappointment and discouragement. I have been received in the county with the greatest possible kindness by the landowners and occupiers alike on the banks of the Avon and Leam, very many of whom join in our sport. We have done the best we can to afford them pleasure and amusement at a delightful time of year, and I feel certain they will regret equally with myself what has occurred. There is no wild creature left in England which does so little harm as the otter, in the Midland Counties especially. His principal food consists of frogs and a few coarse fish, and I do hope I may, therefore, ask your assistance in making earnest request that another such occurrence may not take place before the visit which we contemplate to make very soon to your beautiful streams.
Yours obediently, G. UTHWATT. Great Linford Manor. 12th Feb, 1896.
This is turn elicited a response from W Lewis Walker, published on February 29th.
OTTER KILLING ON THE LEAM. To the Editor of the Advertiser.
Sir - ln your issue of last week you publish a letter from Mr. Uthwatt relative to killing otters on the Leam. Now, as my name is mentioned in connection with this affair, I wish to state a few facts as regards otters. Mr. Uthwatt, having created several false impressions on that subject. In the first place, he says: “That an otter should weigh 26Ibs. is about as remarkable that an ox should weigh nine-score per quarter." Now, sir, I have known an ox to weigh eighteen-score per quarter, and read of them much more. Will Mr. Uthwatt likewise go to 52Ibs. for his otter? Secondly, that gentleman says: “His principal food consists of frogs and a few coarse fish." Here again Mr. Uthwatt shows a lamentably poor knowledge of his natural history, it being a very well-known fact that an otter lives chiefly on “coarse fish" (possibly varied by an amphibian now and again), killing for the love of killing many more than it eats.
I am one of partners in a shooting bordering the Leam, and a few years ago had some of the best fishing to found. Now, owing to the presence of these pests, a day's fishing is hardly worth having. Again, for the delectation of Mr. Uthwatt and a few more '‘faddists," we are to sacrifice the whole of our sport. One more fact, and I have done. We are enjoying sport within our perfect rights: Mr. Uthwatt and his friends, on the other hand, are nothing more or less than trespassers. – Apologising for the space taken up with this scribble,
Yours obediently, W. LEWIS WALKER. Gibraltar House, Leamington Hastings, February 25th, 1896.
Taking offence against the charge of trespass, Gerard fired back in a letter published March 7th.
KILLING OTTERS ON THE LEAM. To the Editor of the Advertiser.
Sir, - With reference to Mr. Walker's letter of Iast week, I beg to state that I have not disputed his legal right to shoot otters. All I desired to say was that if others pursued this course in Warwickshire, I could not bring the bounds there, having ten other Midland counties to visit, where it is not done. Mr. Walker descends to calling names; he says I am a “faddist” and “trespasser.” If he likes to apply the first elegant phrase to a brother sportsman and a stranger he must do so. But l am not trespasser. My hounds are not taken to places where we are not invited; and before they hunted the Leam last summer in the parish of Leamington Hastings, we had obtained the written permission of Mr. Sitwell, the proprietor of the stream.
Yours obediently, GERARD UTHWATT. Gt Linford Minor, 5th March, 1896.
This appears to being the end of this fractious exchange, but to clarify the vexed question at the heart of the dispute, the Natural History Museum website states that otters, “feed mainly on fish.” It appears then that Gerard Uthwatt was either ignorant of this fact, or perhaps preferred to obfuscate for his own selfish aims. However, the dispute over what otters ate continued to be a vexed one (the master of the Courtenay Tracy otterhounds was stating in 1954 that the main food of the otter was frogs and eels, while a little over a decade later in 1969, the master of the Bucks Otter Hunt was defending their activities on the basis that otters could do a lot of damage in a trout stream.
But the poor otter was also burdened with claims that they killed for pleasure, taking just a few bites of fish, and leaving the carcass otherwise uneaten, much to the annoyance of fishermen. That the acrimony between the two camps was long festering is indicated by the complaints of a correspondent in the Field Magazine of March 26th, 1904, who lamented the frequent trapping of otters on the Thames.
But the poor otter was also burdened with claims that they killed for pleasure, taking just a few bites of fish, and leaving the carcass otherwise uneaten, much to the annoyance of fishermen. That the acrimony between the two camps was long festering is indicated by the complaints of a correspondent in the Field Magazine of March 26th, 1904, who lamented the frequent trapping of otters on the Thames.
The otter in decline
The idea that the otter often got away was also allied with the idea that the otter hunts had little impact on numbers. Clearly this is difficult to judge, but the death of even a single otter must have been damaging to the species. In 1930, the annual report for the Bucks Otter Hunt stated that of 40 otters found, 28 were killed. In 1936, the tally was 37 found, and 30 killed. These may seem small numbers, but consider, if the Bucks Otter Hunt had killed a similar number each year since its inception in 1891, then the tally would stand by 1936 at roughly 1300 otters killed by just one hunt.
In 1908 there were 23 active hunts in the country; if each were achieving a similar number of kills and had operated as long as the Bucks otterhounds, then the total loss to the species from hunting until it was banned (not including those shot as vermin by fishermen) very quickly rises into the 10s of thousands, though this figure might be tempered by the gradual decline on otter numbers and a reduction in the number of working packs.
Hunting stalwart Waddy Wadsworth (writing in the book Vive la Chase published 1989) estimated from his personal records that 16 otter packs were working in 1953, with an average 9 kills per pack in a season, so a total of 144 otters killed; if an accurate estimate a considerable decline from the numbers reported in 1908. It is however worth noting that the Bucks Otter Hunt annual report of 1953 states that of 50 otters found, the tally of kills stood at 28. Of equal disparity, the Courtenay Tracy otterhounds stated in their annual report for the same year that in 71 days of hunting, they had killed 27 otters and in 1954, the tally stood at 38 killed! Unless the other 14 hunts were doing considerably worse, Wadsworth’s estimate of 9 kills per pack in this period seems questionable.
What seems incontrovertible is that by the early 1960s, the otter population was in serious decline. Wadsworth makes the case that it was the otter hunters who (rather understandably) were the first to notice, and as soon as it became apparent that there was a crisis in numbers, the hunts imposed a moratorium on killing. According to Wadsworth this meant that only one otter was killed in a five year period, and that by accident. At the same time, post-mortem results began to filter through, with the blame pointed at a build-up of pesticides in the ecosystem. As if this were not enough, the release of farmed mink into the countryside also appears (as Wadsworth contends) to have contributed to the driving down of otter numbers, perhaps by competition for food.
In 1908 there were 23 active hunts in the country; if each were achieving a similar number of kills and had operated as long as the Bucks otterhounds, then the total loss to the species from hunting until it was banned (not including those shot as vermin by fishermen) very quickly rises into the 10s of thousands, though this figure might be tempered by the gradual decline on otter numbers and a reduction in the number of working packs.
Hunting stalwart Waddy Wadsworth (writing in the book Vive la Chase published 1989) estimated from his personal records that 16 otter packs were working in 1953, with an average 9 kills per pack in a season, so a total of 144 otters killed; if an accurate estimate a considerable decline from the numbers reported in 1908. It is however worth noting that the Bucks Otter Hunt annual report of 1953 states that of 50 otters found, the tally of kills stood at 28. Of equal disparity, the Courtenay Tracy otterhounds stated in their annual report for the same year that in 71 days of hunting, they had killed 27 otters and in 1954, the tally stood at 38 killed! Unless the other 14 hunts were doing considerably worse, Wadsworth’s estimate of 9 kills per pack in this period seems questionable.
What seems incontrovertible is that by the early 1960s, the otter population was in serious decline. Wadsworth makes the case that it was the otter hunters who (rather understandably) were the first to notice, and as soon as it became apparent that there was a crisis in numbers, the hunts imposed a moratorium on killing. According to Wadsworth this meant that only one otter was killed in a five year period, and that by accident. At the same time, post-mortem results began to filter through, with the blame pointed at a build-up of pesticides in the ecosystem. As if this were not enough, the release of farmed mink into the countryside also appears (as Wadsworth contends) to have contributed to the driving down of otter numbers, perhaps by competition for food.
The beginning of the end
The cynical commentator will of course observe that the hunters’ sudden concern for the otter was driven not by a change of heart, but a desire to keep the population at a sufficiently healthy level that they could continue to be hunted. However, a perfect storm of conditions was now blowing hard against the hunters. By the late 1960s, the Bucks Otter Hunt were running into protesters on a regular basis, and in the case of an article carried in the Daily Mirror of June 15th, 1968, receiving some rather sarcastic press. The article by an Eric Wainwright paints an unflattering picture of a hunt in Lincolnshire, with the hunters described as “fanatics”, and the dogs as, “great hairy idiots” in pursuit of the “dreaded otter.”
Under the spectacularly tone-deaf headline of “Otter hunt find nothing – but fun”, the Coventry Evening Telegraph of July 25th, 1968, reported that the hunt came up empty along 10 miles of the river Leam, with one follower saying, “there wasn’t anywhere near the nastiness you hear about.” Another follower added, “You don’t want to kill them these days – just play with them for five minutes or so. You’re not up your eyeballs in blood and tears all the time, we wouldn’t go for, say, a mother with cubs.” It is hard not to conclude that there remained even in 1968 a blind spot in the minds of hunters, as it seems unlikely in the extreme that the otter thought of the chase as “play.”
Anti-blood sports protesters were targeting the hunt again in July of 1969, with an encounter described as a “clash” by the Coventry Evening Telegraph of the 24th. “As soon as the scarlet-capped, blue-jacketed whips of the Bucks and Courtney Tracey released their hounds from a large van, the demonstrators began to harangue them.” The usual diametrically opposed views were offered, with hunt master Mrs Haswell (otter-pole cut with notches indicating kills) arguing that otter hunters were above all conservationists and the protesters were cranky townspeople.
An undated account from Waddy Wadsworth in his book A Sporting Life tells that the Bucks Otter Hunt were filmed by a BBC television crew led by the well-known reporter Fyfe Robertson. Though the anecdote is undated, Wadsworth mentions that the master at the time lived at Snelson, which would make him Dick Saunders, hence we can presume this happened circa 1970-1975. The encounter was unexpected by the members of the hunt, but after an affable enough day in the company of Robertson and his team, Wadsworth was left feeling that the hunt would be portrayed in a benign, if not positive light. Contrary to his expectations however, he laments that the programme as broadcast was, “the finest bit of anti-hunting propaganda that you could possibly imagine.” A similar outcome happened the following year when Anglian television followed the hunt for an afternoon. The times were changing, and the days of the hunt were numbered.
Under the spectacularly tone-deaf headline of “Otter hunt find nothing – but fun”, the Coventry Evening Telegraph of July 25th, 1968, reported that the hunt came up empty along 10 miles of the river Leam, with one follower saying, “there wasn’t anywhere near the nastiness you hear about.” Another follower added, “You don’t want to kill them these days – just play with them for five minutes or so. You’re not up your eyeballs in blood and tears all the time, we wouldn’t go for, say, a mother with cubs.” It is hard not to conclude that there remained even in 1968 a blind spot in the minds of hunters, as it seems unlikely in the extreme that the otter thought of the chase as “play.”
Anti-blood sports protesters were targeting the hunt again in July of 1969, with an encounter described as a “clash” by the Coventry Evening Telegraph of the 24th. “As soon as the scarlet-capped, blue-jacketed whips of the Bucks and Courtney Tracey released their hounds from a large van, the demonstrators began to harangue them.” The usual diametrically opposed views were offered, with hunt master Mrs Haswell (otter-pole cut with notches indicating kills) arguing that otter hunters were above all conservationists and the protesters were cranky townspeople.
An undated account from Waddy Wadsworth in his book A Sporting Life tells that the Bucks Otter Hunt were filmed by a BBC television crew led by the well-known reporter Fyfe Robertson. Though the anecdote is undated, Wadsworth mentions that the master at the time lived at Snelson, which would make him Dick Saunders, hence we can presume this happened circa 1970-1975. The encounter was unexpected by the members of the hunt, but after an affable enough day in the company of Robertson and his team, Wadsworth was left feeling that the hunt would be portrayed in a benign, if not positive light. Contrary to his expectations however, he laments that the programme as broadcast was, “the finest bit of anti-hunting propaganda that you could possibly imagine.” A similar outcome happened the following year when Anglian television followed the hunt for an afternoon. The times were changing, and the days of the hunt were numbered.
A ban at last
Though there had been an abortive attempt to ban otter hunting in 1906, the final nail in the coffin of the sport occurred in 1978, when otter hunting was finally outlawed in England. Scotland followed suit in 1981. Combined with action to withdraw the use of the organochlorine chemicals and a general improvement in water quality, the otter is now making a slow comeback, and indeed, it has been observed that otters have been seen in the canal at Great Linford.