284 THE ZOOLOGIST. 
chamber I told this story to my tutor; said he, ‘that covey was 
London” !* 
The last anecdote I have to relate, on the authority of Sir 
Edward Sherborne, refers to Charles II. Not long before the 
death of this king, a Sparrowhawk escaped from the perch and 
pitched on one of the iron crowns of the White Tower, where, 
entangling its leash in the crown, it hung by the heels and died. 
Not long after another hawk pitched on one of the crowns. This 
was naturally regarded as a very ominous circumstance. 
After the Restoration, hawking ceased to be popular, and 
eradually fell into disuetude, although from that time until the 
present it has never ceased to be practised by a few admirers of 
the old sport in various parts of the country. The last member 
of the Royal Family, I believe, who sent for or received hawks 
from abroad was Frederick Prince of Wales, son of George II. 
This prince used to occupy “the palace of Durdans,” at Epsom, 
now the residence of the Earl of Rosebery, and used to hawk 
over the downs, where in 1825, according to the authors of a 
‘History of Epsom’ published in that year, there was a spot still 
known as “ the Hawkery.” 
The causes which have led to the decline of Falconry are 
many and various. The enclosure of waste lands, the drainage 
and cultivation of marshes, the great improvement in fire-arms of 
all kinds, and particularly the introduction of shot, have each in 
their way contributed to lessen the interest once so universally 
taken in this sport.t Fashion also, no doubt, has had a good deal 
to do with the decline of Hawking, for so soon as the reigning 
* Although no falconer of my acquaintance can confirm the truth of this story, 
and the well-known timidity of the Partridge renders it well nigh incredible, 
instances have been known in which birds have come to the rescue of a companion 
attacked by a hawk. The late John Barr, one of the best professional falconers of 
modern times, told me that when he was faleoner to the Champagne Hawking Club, 
(in 1866) he once flew at a Carrion Crow, one of a pair which they sighted, at 
Chalons, and his hawk struck it down. While the two were struggling on the 
eround and the crow was being killed, its companion came to the rescue, and 
darting down pecked at the hawk, and caused her at length to let go. The hawk, 
however, immediately gave chase to her assailant, and at the second stoop brought 
it also to the ground. 
+ I have elsewhere referred to a letter from Sir Edmund Bedingfeld to Lord 
Bath, dated in 1548, and printed in Gage’s ‘ History of Hengrave,’ which shows 
very clearly with what disfavour the introduction of game and wildfowl shooting 
was regarded by fuleoners. Trans. Norf, and Norw. Nat. Soe., vol. iii., pp. 81, 82. 
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