VII. Remarks. 
Poor Kestrel! One is sometimes inclined to write him down “the last of British Hawks !” 
Well, not quite so badas that. The Sparrow Hawk is still a common bird, and the Peregrine, 
the Merlin, the Hobby, and the Buzzard may be found in certain favoured spots; but in nine 
cases out of ten the only hawk that we are sure to meet in our country walk is the Kestrel, 
whereas there was once a time when the Peregrine dwelt in every cliff, and in many steeples too, 
when the Harriers beat over every field and marsh, the Kite harried every farmyard, and the 
Buzzard wheeled and screamed over every wood. 
And now none are left to the casual lover of nature except the Kestrel and the Sparrow Hawk. 
And as the Sparrow Hawk is a sad poacher, the first thing to be done on behalf of the Kestrel 
is to make sure that every game preserver and every keeper knows the two birds apart, for in 
some places the name Sparrow Hawk is persistently applied to both species. In fact, to 
quote the late Lord Lilford, ‘it is much to be wished that all who are interested in game should 
be impressed with the difference between the Sparrow Hawk and its less destructive relations.” 
The Kestrel, then, is the red hawk that hovers; the Sparrow Hawk is the blue hawk 
that dashes, The Sparrow Hawk sweeps along under the hedge, or round the hay-rick, or 
along the side of the copse, and pounces on some greedy flock of quarrelling sparrows, or on 
the scattered brood of partridge or pheasant. The Kestrel hangs almost motionless in mid-air, 
as though suspended from the sky bya thread, looking down with keen eyes for mice and 
grasshoppers on the ground below, and suddenly dropping upon its prey. There are one or two 
other British hawks which occasionally hover in a similar manner, but they are much larger, and, 
of course, much rarer birds. 
We must not expect to obtain protection for the Kestrel unless we can prove that he 
seldom or never destroys game-birds. The greater number of naturalists agree in declaring that 
his principal food consists of mice—that is field mice and voles, destructive little creatures which 
lay waste miles of country when they are allowed to increase without restraint. As the Swallows 
and the Nightjar divide the day and night in their ceaseless pursuit of insects, so the Kestrel 
relieves the Owls in the work of thinning the hosts of mice. 
But the Kestrel does not despise insects, and is known to devour quantities of grasshoppers, 
beetles and their grubs, especially dor-beetles and cockchafers, crane-flies (daddy-long-legs), and 
even worms. 
Frogs and slow-worms also occasionally afford him a change of diet; and little birds? 
What, never? Well 
That observant and accurate Devonshire naturalist, Col. Montagu, declared that he never 
found a feather in the stomach of this bird, which would alone be enough to prove that such a 
diet is very exceptional. 
But perhaps the best and fairest summary of this vexed question is contained in the follow- 
ing quotation from the “Field and Covert Shooting” volume of the Badminton Library, this 
particular extract being from the pen of the Hon. Gerald Lascelles, Deputy Surveyor of the New 
Forest, who writes, of course, from the point of view of the sportsman and not of the senti- 
mentalist :— 
“ As a rule there is no more harmless bird than the common Kestrel or Windhover, com- 
monly confused by ignorant and unobservant keepers with the Sparrow Hawk, and ruthlessly 
destroyed by them. Very different are the habits of the two species, and while little or no 
good can be credited to the Sparrow Hawk, the Kestrel may lay claim to being one of the 
farmer’s best friends in existence. Its principal food consists of the common field mouse, 
and of the numerous beetles and larve which it can glean from the face of the land. Grass- 
hoppers are a favourite food, and it has frequently been seen to destroy the slow-worm ; while 
there are also instances on record of its taking the adder. Very rarely, indeed, does it seize 
a bird of any kind, and then only if they are crouching on the ground. But its weak feet 
and lack of courage render it quite unable to hold even a three-parts grown partridge. There 
