MARTS AND MART HUNTING

CHAPTER XXVIII

WITHIN the memory of many of the older inhabitants of Lakeland small packs of hounds were kept specially for mart-hunting. In local parlance and speaking generally the term “mart” was applied to both pine-marten and polecat. When differentiating between the two, however, the pine marten was known as the “sweet mart,” and the polecat as the “foul mart” or evil-smelling marten. Most local people shorten the polecat’s name still further and call it the “foumart.” We will devote the first portion of this chapter to it, beginning with a brief description of the animal and its habits.

The polecat belongs to the Mustelidæ and is a true weasel. It is a small creature: a big dog foumart—in the vernacular a “hob”—will not measure more than two feet from nose to tail-tip, while its weight may be about two and three-quarter pounds. The female is smaller still, and will weigh perhaps a pound less. Most people are familiar with the big, dark-coloured ferrets, known in some localities as “fitchet” ferrets. A wild polecat is not unlike one of these ferrets, being marked practically the same, but the coat is much darker and the animal itself is an altogether finer creature than the domesticated ferret. The colour of the polecat’s coat is dark brown, merging into black on the legs and underparts. The muzzle is white and a band of white crosses the face above the eyes, while the ears are tipped with white. Like the American skunk, the foumart is provided with a sac beneath its tail from which, when annoyed, it emits a greenish fluid of a most repulsive odour. Anyone who has had dealings with a skunk will have reason to remember the frightful stink—there is no other word for it—which the pretty black and white-striped animal pours forth, when cornered by a dog or caught in a trap. We have seen a dog practically blinded by a charge from a skunk’s “battery,” and have recollections of certain of our own garments which had to be burnt after coming in contact with a few drops of the skunk’s defensive spray. It is only as a last resort that the polecat emits its odour. When first alarmed it arches its back and fluffs out the fur of its body and tail, until it looks twice its size, accompanying this action with a hissing sound. In a wild state the foumart is really a very cleanly animal, and in its bield, or lair, it has three apartments where it sleeps, eats, and stores its food. The latter consists of rabbits, hedgehogs, birds, frogs, eels, etc. There is a story to the effect that when a party of hunters were digging to a foumart they found some live eels in the earth, which they promptly took to the nearest inn, and had them cooked for breakfast, after which they returned to the mart’s lair and eventually dug him out. The foumart’s hunting ground was usually amongst boggy land or heather-covered wastes. The animal lays up in old barns, stone heaps, and drains, though it is also found in earths of its own. Like the dog-fox, the “hob” wanders considerable distances in spring, and some long runs have been recorded at this season of the year.

After making exhaustive enquiries we have arrived at the conclusion that the polecat is now very rare indeed in Lakeland. We have recently heard of a specimen being seen locally, but it is safe to say that there are more pine martens than foumarts in the fell country to-day. Not long ago a gentleman sent us a polecat from Wales where the animals are still quite plentiful. On his estate the keeper secured no less than forty within a period of twelve months, one of which was a “freak,” its coat being of a brownish shade, something like that of a pine marten. A foumart will work great havoc if it has access to a rabbit warren, and it will kill poultry as well as rats. The wild polecat will mate with the domesticated ferret, and the cross-breds prove excellent workers, being much quicker than ferrets, and not half so liable to lie up with a dead rabbit. The hybrids are also fertile. A friend of ours has bred polecat-ferrets successfully, a “hob” being mated with a white ferret, the ensuing litter being all dark-coloured like their male parent. Most of the foumarts captured in Wales are taken in the neighbourhood of water, for the polecat is of a thirsty nature, and has a partiality for frogs which inhabit damp places.

The foumart is easy to trap, and it is owing to its unsuspicious nature that it has been exterminated in many English districts where once it was plentiful. In France polecats are common, and when in that country we saw a fair number of specimens which had been trapped on the farms. The French keepers whom we met in Nieppe Forest told us that both martens and polecats were quite common there. Likewise near Fort Mahon on the coast we came across an old keeper who said that he often trapped them. In pre-war days large quantities of polecat skins from the Continent reached the London fur sales. In the trade polecat fur is known as fitch. Occasionally ferrets escape and lead a wild existence. Some of the so-called polecats reported from time to time are really nothing more than feral ferrets of the dark foumart colour. The foumart breeds in May or June, having from three to five young ones in a litter. The young are generally laid down in some rabbit hole, or amongst rocks and crevices. Being quite a good swimmer the polecat has no hesitation in crossing rivers.

In the old days foumart hunting was a popular sport in Lakeland. At one time quite a number of packs of foumart hounds were in existence. One of the most widely known establishments was the Rev. Hilton Wybergh’s of Isel. Other packs were kept at Wigton, Aspatria, and Carlisle. The late Mr. James Fleming Green kept a pack at Grasmere with Anthony Chapman as his huntsman. Otter hounds were used for hunting foumarts, but the old Lancashire foumart hounds were a smaller and more active type than our present day rough otter hounds. In the Otter Hunting Diary (1829-1871) of the late Mr. James Lomax, of Clayton Hall, there is an illustration of a couple of foumart hounds. Mr. Lomax used them in crossing with his otter hounds. The picture shows two rough-coated, active-looking hounds in full cry. An old Lakeland dalesman told the writer that one of the packs with which he hunted years ago was composed of quite small, rough-coated hounds, not much bigger than Irish terriers. About eight couples of hounds was the average number to a pack, though some authorities declared that two couples were really sufficient. In addition to hounds a couple or two of really good working terriers were indispensable. The season for hunting the foumart extended roughly speaking from January to about the middle of May; March, April and May being the best months. Hounds met very early in the morning, in fact as soon as it was light enough to see. The scent of a foumart was strong, and if hounds hit off a line at once the pace was liable to be hot. The pack was followed on foot, and one had to be in something like training to keep in touch when hounds ran hard. As already mentioned the foumart was fond of haunting the vicinity of water, so hounds were generally taken to the boggy country adjoining the fells, such ground as lies not far from Skiddaw, or that between Wigton and the Solway.

During the hunting season the foumart was usually found in rocky cairns, stone drains, and old barns. In France the marten, called by the locals martre, resorts to barns in like manner. In Normandy the farmers tie up their hay in small square bundles, and stack it in the granaries, and it is in the latter that the marten is often discovered, driven out, and shot. Apropos of the foumart’s habits of haunting old buildings, Edwards, the Scottish naturalist, relates the story of a fight he had with a polecat. Having lain down to sleep in the vault of the ruined castle of the Boyne, a foumart was attracted by the scent of a water-hen which he had in his pocket. The foumart attacked, and when Edwards attempted to drive the creature away, it renewed the assault, shrieking ferociously. Eventually Edwards gripped it with his hands and put an end to its further mischief by chloroforming it with the contents of a bottle which he used for asphyxiating butterflies and moths.

The foumart’s scent being strong, hounds could own the line long after the animal had gone. This often led to the pack striking the drag heelway, and after a long hard run the field found themselves at the beginning instead of at the end of the hunt. On one occasion hounds hit off a drag directly they were unkennelled and ran it for a long distance after which they ran it back again, and marked their foumart to ground under the very building from which they had been released earlier in the morning. On another occasion a foumart was marked in a stone heap. The animal bolted—a rather unusual occurrence by the way—and was at once rolled over. Directly after, away hounds went in full cry for some four miles or more, and, returning on the same line, came straight back to the same stone heap. The foumart was therefore killed first and hunted afterwards. Occasionally hounds picked up the drag of a stoat, but the latter ran with many twists and turns whereas the line of the foumart was more or less straight, so that there was little difficulty in telling which quarry hounds had got on. It was of course essential that hounds should mark properly, for when a foumart went to ground in a big earth, it was impossible to know where to dig unless you had one or two good marking hounds.

On one occasion the Master of a certain pack ran his foumart to ground, and hounds marked steadily. On digging operations being started the owner of the land appeared on the scene, and asked, “who was going to mend them dykes?” The Master, feigning deafness, replied, “Nay it isn’t train time yet!” The proprietor getting annoyed repeated his question, but the Master, putting his hand to his ear, said, “I think we’d be better for a sup o’ rain.” This went on until the foumart was got out, when hounds rolled him over after a short scurry. The owner of the land was as excited as anybody, and at once forgot his grievance. After the kill, the Master went back to the earth and prepared to mend the fence. The proprietor told him by signs that he need not do this. “But,” said the Master, “if I don’t do it who’s to mend them dykes?” Looking greatly astonished the land-owner exclaimed, “What, thoo’s not deaf then?” Explanations of course followed, and the Master was cordially invited to come again and have another hunt on some future occasion.

It was the custom to present the foumart’s skin to the poorest man in the Hunt, the value of the pelt being half-a-crown. No doubt at times there was a certain amount of “fratching” as to who was entitled to the honour. Occasionally very long hunts were brought off, and there are records of runs which lasted for seven or eight hours. No doubt the large number of packs kept for foumart hunting had something to do with the eventual disappearance of the polecat in Lakeland, but we imagine the increase of game preservation rang the animal’s death knell. There were many local characters famous for their love of hunting the foumart and otter in the old days. One of these was a shoemaker named Kew, who was of rather a fractious disposition. In an old hunting song are the following lines:

Turning from the polecat to the pine marten or “sweet mart,” we have another animal belonging to the weasel family, although it is not a true weasel. Viewed at close quarters it has a decidedly foxy appearance, as it carries a bushy tail about a foot long. In size and weight martens like foxes vary considerably. An old ex-huntsman of mart hounds told us that in his day, it was a good Lakeland marten which weighed four pounds. A specimen killed in Ireland in 1918, a female, pulled down the scales to exactly this weight, its length from tip of nose to tip of tail being two feet, seven inches. The head is broad and the muzzle pointed, while the ears are well developed; being broad and rounded at the ends. The feet are large and powerful, with considerable fur between the toes. When descending the trunk of a tree the marten turns its hind feet outwards exactly like a squirrel. The colour of the coat when the latter is at its best is a rich sable brown with an under fur of reddish grey. The hairs of the outer coat are of considerable length and are glossy. The throat shows a patch of lemon or orange colour, the shade of which varies considerably in individuals. On the Continent, the beech-marten—hardly distinguishable from our pine marten—has a white or cream white throat in many instances, and this is usually given as one of the characteristics which distinguish the pine from the beech marten. It is, however, unreliable, for the colour is extremely variable, the only sure means of identification being the teeth, and the width of the skull. The eartips are white. The pine marten is also a dweller across the Channel, but its confrère, the beech marten, does not extend its range to Great Britain. Speaking of the beech marten reminds us of an incident that happened in France.

Not far from a stream were two large concrete tanks, sunk level with the ground. Each held two or three feet of stagnant water, inhabited by numbers of frogs and newts. The frogs spent much of their time sitting about on bits of wood which were floating on the surface of the water. On our second visit to these tanks we found the freshly drowned body of a beech marten in one of them. Apparently what had happened was this: The tank, some six feet deep, and not quite half full of water, had proved a death trap to the marten, which, attracted by the frogs sitting on the floating debris, had attempted to reach them, and had fallen in. None of the pieces of wood floating in the water were sufficiently stable to afford the marten a footing, so it was unable to spring to the top of the tank and thus had perished miserably.

In the Lake District the marten’s average litter number appears to be three. Pine martens are still to be found on the fells, and we imagine that there are probably more of them in Lakeland than elsewhere. In Scotland the marten is much rarer than the wild cat, while in Wales it is equally uncommon, whereas polecats are still plentiful in certain Welsh districts. The last Lakeland pine marten that we personally handled was taken in 1915. But more recently we saw marten tracks in the snow. By nature the marten is a tree dweller, but the gradual disappearance of the timber has forced it to take refuge on the open fells. There is a saying that in the Troutbeck valley, near Windermere, a squirrel could run from the fell head to Windermere Lake without once touching ground, so closely forested was the countryside; but such a feat is impossible to-day. The marten’s present home is amongst the crags and rocky earths or borrans which bestrew the fell sides.

Some authorities say that the marten breeds twice in the year, i.e., in February and June; but the writer cannot vouch for the truth of this statement. As already mentioned, three is the average litter number, though as many as seven young ones have been found in one “nest.” On the Lakeland fells the marten breeds among the rocks, but in woodlands it uses an old squirrel’s “drey” or the deserted nest of a crow, hawk, or magpie. The gait of a pine marten consists of a series of bounds, the space between the imprints in snow often being of surprising length. It also affects a sort of bounding gallop, while its slowest pace is a walk. The tracks in snow may be mistaken for those of a hare, but if they are followed the trail sooner or later shows the walk and thus sets all doubts at rest, as a hare never walks. A marten does not run, as a ferret or a polecat will. In its movements the marten is a real “live wire,” which is not surprising when we consider the fact that it can catch a squirrel in the timber. Where it inhabits woodlands it is the squirrel’s deadliest foe, and thus does good in keeping down those animals which are so destructive in young plantations.

The marten is of course a flesh eater, but it also has a fondness for fruit of various kinds, as well as eggs. It disposes of an egg by neatly biting the end off and then lapping up the contents with its tongue, holding the egg meanwhile in its paws. The marten captured in the Lakes in 1915 greedily ate small trout which were offered to it. No doubt when the hill streams are dead low at mid-summer, it succeeds in catching trout in the rockbound pools.

We have seen it stated that the marten’s greatest enemy is man with his guns and traps, but of this we are doubtful. Years ago martens were extremely plentiful, while foxes—the real, old-fashioned hill sort—were comparatively scarce. As the foxes increased. the martens grew less; and many of the old-time dalesmen have expressed the opinion that the foxes were responsible for their disappearance. The late Tommy Dobson, the famous Master of the Eskdale and Ennerdale Fox-hounds, always said that the foxes killed the martens; and he had a long an wide experience of both animals.

Only the other day we were discussing the same subject with Anthony Chapman, ex-huntsman of the Windermere Harriers, who, in his earlier years hunted a pack of mart hounds owned by the late Mr. John Fleming Green of Grasmere. He quoted an instance which came to his knowledge which rather points to the truth of the statement. On one occasion he hunted a mart which eventually beat hounds and had to be left in an impregnable position. A day or two after, happening to pass near the same spot, he found the tail of a marten—quite fresh—lying on the ground. Quick as a marten is, a fox can easily outstrip him on open ground; and seeing that reynard will kill both cats and weasels there is every reason to suppose that he would do the same with marts when opportunity offered. In the woodlands a marten can seek refuge in the timber, but when foraging at night on the open fells it would be at the mercy of any fox which chanced to strike its line and follow it up.

The famous sable is of course a marten. In the forests of Northern Europe and America where the stoats, hares, etc., turn white in winter, the marten retains its dark brown coat. Living amongst the branches of the evergreen firs it there harmonises perfectly with its surroundings and has no necessity to change the colour of its pelage. Although the pine marten has a personal odour of its own, it cannot emit a horrible stench like the polecat does when alarmed. Martens thrive in captivity, and become very tame. A friend of the writer’s kept one for three years, during which period it was perfectly healthy and well. At the end of that time, however, it suddenly exhibited a curious penchant for biting its own tail. Despite all that could be done for it, it practically ate its brush entirely away, and then “turned up its toes.” To all appearance it was in perfect health, and it is hard to discover a reason for its strange behaviour, unless over feeding had something to do with it.

Martens are inimical to game, for their agility on the ground coupled with their climbing powers enables them to account for both furred and feathered creatures. In woodland districts the increase of game preservation naturally reduced the stock of martens, until to-day they only inhabit the wildest and most out-of-the-way parts of the country.

An old dalesman who lives in a part of the fell country where marts are still to be found assures the writer that he can remember the time when marts were regularly responsible for lamb worrying in spring. His statement is upheld by other old farmers and shepherds. A marten is certainly powerful enough to kill a lamb, and there seems no reason to doubt the stories one hears concerning the animal’s evil-doing in this respect. In Thompson’s “Mammals of Ireland” a case is quoted where in 1851 no fewer than twenty-one lambs were killed by a pair of martens in a couple of nights. Full-grown sheep have also been reported as killed by martens from time to time. When seizing a lamb or a hare, the marten’s point of attack is behind the shoulder. From the hole thus made it sucks the blood. A polecat on the other hand, kills a rabbit by biting it across the eyes, while the stoat and weasel seize their victim behind the ear. The marten is easily trapped, but frequently dies, even it in no way injured by the trap. Other animals of the same family resign themselves to the inevitable in like manner. When angry or excited the marten growls, chatters, and hisses.

The Greeks and Romans domesticated the beech marten and used it as we do the cat to rid their houses of rats and mice. This was before the domestic cat was universally known. The pine marten was hunted in the same way as the foumart, and though the drag afforded the chief sport, a “sweet mart” could stand up before hounds for some time in rough ground. It is a more active beast than the polecat, and can climb with the greatest ease in crags and among timber. Anthony Chapman, who hunted Mr. Green’s hounds, told the writer that on one occasion hounds threw up, and eventually the marten was discovered sitting on the limb of a tall birch tree, looking down at his pursuers. A marten has an intense dislike to smoke and will bolt directly the first whiff of burning grass or bracken reaches it.

In Vyner’s “Notitia Venatica” it says regarding the marten, “our forefathers were used to enter their hounds to him as by his running the thickest brakes they were taught to turn quickly with a scent and run in covert without skirting. Although in the constant habit of climbing when hunted he will stand sometimes for half-an-hour before hounds with a good scent before treeing, when the following method of dislodging him is frequently practised:—A man climbs part of the way up the tree and holds under him some damp straw or hay which is lighted, immediately on his perceiving the smoke he darts out of the tree and so great is his agility that he will more frequently than not escape through the legs of the hounds that stand baying at him and eagerly watching his descent.” The marten affords the best hunt in open country, and for this reason the sport was good on the Lakeland fells. A year or two ago the Coniston hounds marked a fox to ground and on the terriers being sent in a marten bolted. There ensued a brief scuffle, but the mart eventually beat hounds in a nearby crag. The martens which occasionally come to hand nowadays are generally accounted for by shepherds’ dogs, or by the terriers of some hunting dalesman.