Captain
Frederick Marryat, who will feature in later posts on this blog, retired from a distinguished naval career and in 1843 settled at Manor Cottage, which occupied the site of the large house of the same name on the south side of Cockthorpe Road (the last but one you pass when leaving Langham). He was a successful novelist: his most popular and enduring book is
Mr Midshipman Easy.
One of his projects was the construction of a duck decoy in the valley of our tributary of the River Stiffkey, east of the road to Binham, and he flooded there a hundred acres for the lake and pipes, a probable trace of which is depicted on an
Ordnance Survey 1:2500 map, prepared in 1886 and published in 1887. The site is to the east of Bluemount Plantation.
Somewhat further upstream the Phelps family have recently excavated ground to form wetland, both for its wildlife value and the purifying and oxygenating effect it will have on the water. Much of that valley from Binham to Langham remains wild, though except for Binham Moor where it is crossed by a permissive footpath the land is closed to the public.
Duck decoys once killed huge numbers of wildfowl, most of which were sold into the poultry trade. At its height, Marryat’s decoy was supplying the London market with 5000 birds a year.
Since duck decoys are admirably documented in With Nature and a Camera by Richard Kearton (Cassell & Co., London, 1906), and since that work is now in the public domain, we cannot do better to describe them than reproduce the relevant text here. The decoys Kearton visited were in ‘East Anglia’, but from the description none of them is likely to have been Captain Marryat’s.
THE ART OF DUCK-DECOYING
Of all the contrivances invented by the ingenuity of man for the capture of wildfowl, I think a duck decoy is at once the most interesting and the most deadly. The first one made, and worked by enticing the birds into it, in this country was, it is believed, that constructed by Charles II in St James’s Park.
Some idea may be gathered of the effective nature of this engine of destruction when it is mentioned that about a century ago no less than 31,000 wildfowl of various species were taken in a single season by ten Lincolnshire decoys.
The precision of modern firearms and the great increase of gunners of all kinds have almost reduced decoying to a lost art. However, there are still a few pipes, as the contrivances are called, worked in different parts of the country; and the man who looks after those I am about to describe – three in number – succeeded last winter in killing 1,500 head of wildfowl, despite the fact that he was not working upon an ideal piece of water, and was continually harassed by a number of flight shooters, who waited for his birds in some adjoining property, over which he had no control, and blazed off at them almost every morning and evening, as they came in from and left again for the mud flats by the sea.
Successful duck-decoying can only be carried on by the fortunate combination of several important essentials. (1) Perfect quietness upon the body of water, large or small, to which the birds come to spend the day. (2) A good set of well-kept pipes, each trending to a cardinal point of the compass, for it is absolutely necessary when a pipe is worked that the wind shall be blowing from the tail of it; for ducks always swim and fly with their heads to the wind. The pipes are, for this reason, named from the direction in which they point. (3) A well-trained, intelligent dog of small size, quick action, and silent habits. If it resembles a fox in colour so much the better, but this qualification is not now considered so essential as it was in olden times, when the decoy-men attached so much importance to it that they tied the skin of a fox on to a dog’s back, and allowed the brush to trail upon the ground. (4) A number of well-trained lure ducks that will come to the decoy-man’s whistle or the sight of his dog, and swim steadily up the pipe; and last, and most important of all, a man of more than average industry, intelligence, and skill.
In order to make this chapter as complete as possible, from a pictorial point of view, we journeyed twice to East Anglia; once, when the wildfowl were being actually caught, and it was impossible for us to photograph the mouth of the pipe without frightening the fowl away; and again in summer-time, when we could go anywhere without fear of doing harm.
A decoy pipe is a ditch shaped somewhat like a cow’s horn or an ear trumpet, and is sufficiently curved to make it quite impossible for anything going on at one end to be seen from the other. It is about one hundred and fifty feet in length, seventeen or eighteen feet wide at its mouth, and gradually tapering to a couple of feet at its tail. The water in it is about fifteen inches deep at the wide end, and three or four at the narrow one. If a spring or small stream should empty its waters into the pipe, it is considered an advantage, as wildfowl swim better against a slight current.
The pipe is covered by iron hoops, commencing at the mouth with one having a span of from twenty-five to thirty feet, and a height, from the centre of the arch to the water, of something like fifteen feet; the hoops gradually diminishing in size as they approach the tail of the pipe to about two feet in diameter.
The whole is covered by a hand-spun hemp net, with a two-inch mesh, well coated with tar and tan. I was assured by the decoy-man that one of these nets will last twenty years. Some pipes are covered by a four-inch mesh at the mouth, and for some distance down, and then one of half the diameter.
One decoy we examined was covered with galvanised wire, which had been treated in the same way as a hemp net. Some decoy-men have an objection to wire netting, on account of its tendency to hum in a breeze of wind, and thus frighten the ducks away; however, the man we visited experienced no difficulty of this kind.
At the tail of the decoy pipe is a detachable net from twelve to fifteen feet long, held open by hoops two feet in diameter, and lying on the ground. In some cases a kind of hopper is made close by the end of the receiving net, to throw the dead fowl into.
On either side of the mouth of the pipe the banks slope gently down to the water’s edge, and are flat and roomy, especially on the side where the sunshine falls, in order that ducks may land to preen themselves and sleep thereon. These banks extend for more than half way up the pipe, gradually narrowing as they do so, until they vanish altogether, and the hoops and netting come close down to the water’s edge. On the screen side, or left bank from the entrance, and about one-third of the distance in, we found a wire cage let into the bank containing a couple of lure ducks; but this is a dodge, I believe, peculiar to the man whose pipes we visited. No leaves or twigs are allowed to accumulate upon the pipe, and overhanging branches or shrubs, calculated to darken any part of it, would be instantly lopped off.
On the left hand side from the entrance is a double row of reed screens, about five feet in height, running parallel with the pipe for something like two-thirds of its length. The outer is a plain one, with gaps in it here and there for the convenience of the decoy-man upon entering to examine the pipe. The inner screen consists of a series of pieces arranged in such a manner that the decoy-man can see towards the tail of the pipe without being seen himself by any fowl coming into it or outside upon the lake. Between each piece of this zigzag screen is a small one running at right angles for the decoy dog to jump over. It is about two feet in height. A few yards in front of the mouth of the pipe is the head show place, where the decoy-man first shows his fear-inspiring form when the wildfowl are well within the pipe. A few yards further along on the same side is a cunningly devised hole for the dog to creep through when the luring commences. Behind the two screens there is a great bank of earth with trees and shrubs growing upon it, and in this is a dug-out path by which the decoy-man enters the grounds and takes his departure.
The screens are made of dead reeds, and are five or six inches thick. They are held close together by wooden rails or galvanised wire. The decoy-man told us that the latter is far better, as it does not collect and hold the water behind it, to rot the reeds, like a wooden rail.
Stuck through the inner or zigzag screens, commanding a good view of the pipe mouth and lake, are several dagger-like pieces of wood, a foot in length and an inch and a quarter wide, which, when turned on one side, open a small vertical slit in the reed screen, through which the decoy-man makes his survey.
All the paths are swept clear of twigs and leaves, and covered with a thick layer of sawdust, so that the decoy-man’s footsteps may not be heard.
The lure ducks that are at liberty in and around the mouth of the pipe number about twenty, and are very similar in appearance to wild Duck. They are only fed in the evening, after the wild ones have left for the mud-flats, except at such times as when the decoy-man is at work catching fowl, when he flings bruised oats, buckwheat, maize, malt grains, or acorns into the pipe.
As soon as the lure ducks hear the decoy-man’s low whistle, or see his dog, they know there will be some grain floating down the pipe, and they swim up – the steadier the better, for these ducks are so trained that as soon as the decoy-man appears at the head show place, and the wild birds rise and fly up the pipe, they quietly swim down again towards the lake.
Wildfowl are taken between October and March; and during a hard frost the decoy-man puts on his sea-boots at midnight, and, taking a long-handled axe and boat-hook, cuts up the ice round the mouth of the pipe, and thrusts it beneath that formed upon the lake. It is a great point in successful wildfowling to keep the water in the pipe, and for some distance around its mouth, free from ice, as such birds as frequent the lake during open weather bring a lot of strangers back with them on their flights to the coast during a snap of hard frost.
Many decoy-men are too anxious to begin to kill the wildfowl directly they visit their water. It is a great mistake, because, if they kill them nearly all at the beginning, the few remaining birds do not induce many strangers to fly back with them from the mud-flats in the morning. Ducks fresh from the sea are known by a mark upon their breasts, left by the salt water, but this quickly disappears when they frequent fresh water.
As wildfowl are very acute of scent, a piece of burning turf is taken by the decoy-man when he goes after Duck, in order to counteract the smell of his breath or clothes. This strange proceeding, according to Sir
Ralph Payne Gallwey, had its origin in the fact that “in the fens of Lincolnshire turf was largely burnt before coal came into use, and it was supposed that the wildfowl, being accustomed to its smell, did not mind it, whereas they would that of the decoy-man.”
I will now endeavour to describe how the actual work of taking wildfowl is done.
We trooped silently down the sunken path leading from a track near the decoy-man’s cottage in the wood to the pipes. He led the way with a piece of burning turf in his left hand, and his little liver-coloured bitch close at his heels. When we reached the screens, he placed his piece of turf upon the ground, and, gently twisting one of the dagger-like sticks from the vertical to the horizontal, peeped through the slit in the reeds, and beckoned us to come and look.
DECOY-MAN MAKING HIS SURVEY
Some two hundred head of wildfowl were to be seen: a few upon the far bank, at the mouth of the pipe, and in the open water in front of it, but the great majority on the ice beyond. Those nearest the pipe appeared to be full of attention and alertness, whilst those further out were either preening themselves or sleeping peacefully. In some places they were collected in dark groups, and in others they were scattered pretty generally over the ice.
The decoy-man quickly twisted the stick back to its original position, and the peep-hole instantly closed. Creeping stealthily forward, he gave his dog a piece of bread, and sent it through the hole in the reed screen, beyond the head show place, and glided swiftly and silently back.
The dog and he appeared to meet at the head show place at the same moment. It jumped over, and, taking a piece of bread from its master’s hand, jumped back again, and directly afterwards appeared at the next opening, between the zigzag screens. After this performance had been repeated several times, and the decoy-man had thrown sundry handfuls of grain from his jacket pocket into the pipe, he stopped and peeped through one of the screens. A number of wildfowl had followed his dog out of curiosity, or his lure birds after the grain, and, darting through a gap in the outer screen, he ran back at great speed to the head show place, and frantically waved a large red cotton handkerchief. There was instantly a great splatter and commotion, and the decoy-man raced like mad from one show place to another, giving his handkerchief a flick at each as he passed.
The poor ducks flew straight on, heads to wind, no doubt thinking that just round the bend in the little creek was an open glade in the woodland leading to freedom and safety, but, alas! the fatal pipe narrowed, and the much-dreaded man followed, with his waving sheet of flaming red; there was no retreat, and on they went pell-mell, frantically hustling each other to get through the little hole at the end – to find themselves in a treacherous cul-de-sac.
We all ran at the top of our speed along the sawdust path to the detachable net at the end of the pipe, where we found six wild ducks tearing up and down in the greatest fear and consternation. One old mallard had struck his head against an iron hoop supporting the wire netting over the decoy pipe, and was lying flat on his back in the last throes of death.
The decoy-man quickly detached the receiving net, and, taking the wildfowl out one by one, dislocated their necks by a dexterous turn of his wrist.
DECOY-MAN KILLING WILD DUCK
He was distinctly a man of notions, for he told us that he had invented a method for making up for his decline in speed (the result of thirty years’ hard wear and tear at the pipes and gamekeeping) when running from one show place to another along the side of the pipe. He had fixed a red handkerchief on a stick at the next show place to the head one, so that directly he frightened the birds by his appearance he could pull a string and hoist it, and thus prevent any wildfowl in the pipe from turning round and flying back before he reached the place. He also told us that he sometimes uses a tethered lure Duck at the mouth of the pipe, and has an idea that, if a long, narrow mirror were hung across the decoy at a certain height above the water, the birds outside, seeing themselves in it, would swim up, thinking that their reflections represented other and bolder members of their species.
He was, in addition to being a skilled hand at the pipes, a most kindly, good-natured fellow. One morning we visited his cottage at six o’clock, and found him bustling about and feeding some poor old wayfarer, who had dropped in to see him, with liberal supplies of rum and milk and cake. The old fellow, who evidently belonged to the neighbourhood, told us that he remembered the time when smugglers used to hide their contraband goods in the middle of the wood we were then in. One Sunday morning, whilst out for a stroll, he came upon a man guarding a cargo of spirits which was to be taken further inland, and the smuggler begged of him not to inform the authorities.
“Did he give you any, bor?” inquired the decoy-man laughingly.
“That he did,” answered the old man; “an’ I didn’t tell on him nayther.”
Update
Langham. — Mr. Southwell states that there was a Decoy at Langham, 3½ miles SW. of Cley, constructed for the late Captain Marryat, R.N. (the well-known author.) After his death, in 1854, the property was purchased by Mr. S. F. Rippingall, and the Decoy dismantled.
The site of the Decoy is now a field, with a small stream running through it; plantation, lake, and Decoy all gone. The Rev. E. W. Dowell, who had often seen this Decoy worked, says the proportion of fowl taken was about Wigeon 3, Mallard 2, Teal 1.
