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THE TAMING OF THE SHREW

Appendix B

Manning a Hawk

In Act 4, Scene 1 Petruccio describes Katherine as a ôhaggardö ù a
wild hawk. Confiding in the audience, he describes the strategies he
will employ ôto man my haggard, To make her come and know her
keeperÆs callö (179û80). His methods would be familiar to his
Elizabethan audience ù and they are still in use today.
Gervase Markham, in Country Pursuits (1615), describes the standard
technique for training a wild hawk in order to make her ômeek and
loving to the manö:

All hawks generally are manned after one manner, that is to
say, by watching and keeping them from sleep, by a continual
carrying of them upon your fist, and by a most familiar
stroking and playing with them, with the wing of a dead fowl
or such like, and by often gazing and looking of them in the
face, with a loving and gentle countenance, and so making
them acquainted with the man.

In A Kestrel for a Knave, by Barry Hines (Michael Joseph, 1968),
Billy Casper describes the same process to his schoolmates. The
scene is a schoolroom in an industrial town in the north of England,
sometime in the middle of the twentieth century.
Mr Farthing rested his elbows on his desk and tapped his teeth with
his thumb nails, waiting for Billy to collect himself.

ôNow then, Billy, tell us about this hawk. Where did you get it
from?ö
ôFound it.ö
ôWhere?ö
ôIn tÆwood.ö
ôWhat had happened to it? Was it injured or something?ö
ôIt was a young Æun. It must have tumbled from a nest.ö
ôAnd how long have you had it?ö
ôSince last year.ö
ôAll that time? Where do you keep it?ö
ôIn a shed.ö
ôAnd what do you feed it on?ö
ôBeef. Mice. Birds.ö
    ôIsnÆt it cruel though, keeping it in a shed all the time?
WouldnÆt it be happier flying free?ö
    Billy looked at Mr Farthing for the first time since he had told
him to sit down.
ôI donÆt keep it in tÆshed all tÆtime. I fly it every day.ö
ôAnd doesnÆt it fly away? I thought hawks were wild birds.ö
ôÆCourse it donÆt fly away. IÆve trained it.ö
    Billy looked round, as though daring anyone to challenge this
authority.
ôTrained it? I thought youÆd to be an expert to train hawks.ö
ôWell I did it.ö
ôWas it difficult?ö
ôÆCourse it was. YouÆve to be right . . . right patient wiÆ Æem
and take your time.ö
    ôWell tell me how you did it then. IÆve never met a falconer
before, I suppose I must be in select company.ö
Billy hutched his chair up and leaned forward over his desk.
    ôWell what you do is, you train Æem through their stomachs.
You can only do owt wiÆ Æem when theyÆre hungry, so you do all your
training at feeding times.
    ôI started training Kes after IÆd had her about a fortnight,
when she was hard penned, that means her tail feathers and wing
feathers had gone hard at their bases. You have to use a torch at night
and keep inspecting Æem. ItÆs easy if youÆre quiet, you just go up to
her as sheÆs roosting, and spread her tail and wings. If tÆfeathers are
blue near tÆbottom oÆ tÆshaft, that means thereÆs blood in Æem and
theyÆre still soft, so theyÆre not ready yet. When theyÆre white and
hard then theyÆre ready, anÆ you can start training her then.
    ôKes waÆ as fat as a pig though at first. All young hawks are
when you first start to train Æem, and you canÆt do much wiÆ Æem Ætil
youÆve got their weight down. YouÆve to be ever so careful though,
you donÆt just starve Æem, you weigh Æem before every meal and
gradually cut their food down, Ætil you go in one time anÆ sheÆs keen,
anÆ thatÆs when you start getting somewhere. I could tell wiÆ Kes, she
jumped straight on my glove as I held it towards her. So while she
waÆ feeding I got hold of her jesses anÆ . . .ö
ôHer what?ö
ôJesses.ö
ôJesses. How do you spell that?ö
Mr Farthing stood up and stepped back to the board.
ôEr, J-E-S-S-E-S.ö
    As Billy enunciated each letter, Mr Farthing linked them
together on the blackboard.
ôJesses. And what are jesses, Billy?ö
    ôTheyÆre little leather straps that you fasten round its legs as
soon as you get it. She wears these all tÆtime, and you get hold of Æem
when she sits on your glove. You push your swivel through . . .ö
ôWhoa! Whoa!ö
    Mr Farthing held up his hands as though Billy was galloping
towards him.
    ôYouÆd better come out here and give us a demonstration.
WeÆre not all experts you know.ö
    Billy stood up and walked out, taking up position at the side
of Mr FarthingÆs desk. Mr Farthing reared his chair on to its back
legs, swivelled it sideways on one leg, then lowered it on to all fours
facing Billy.
ôRight, off you go.ö
    ôWell, when she stands on your fist, you pull her jesses down
between your fingers.ö
    Billy held his left fist out and drew the jesses down between
his first and second fingers.
    ôThen you get your swivel, like a swivel on a dog lead, press
both jesses together, and thread Æem through tÆtop ring of it. TÆjesses
have little slits in Æem near tÆbottom, like buttonholes in braces, and
when youÆve got tÆjesses through tÆtop ring oÆ tÆswivel, you open
these slits with your finger, and push tÆbottom ring through, just like
fastening a button.ö
    With the swivel now attached to the jesses, Billy turned to Mr
Farthing.
ôDo you see?ö
ôYes, I see. Carry on.ö
    ôWell when youÆve done that, you thread your leash, thatÆs a
leather thong, through tÆbottom ring oÆ tÆswivel . . .ö
    Billy carefully threaded the leash, grabbed the loose end as it
penetrated the ring, and pulled it through.
ô. . . until it binds on tÆknot at tÆother end. Have you got that?ö
    ôYes, I think so. Just let me get it right. The jesses round the
hawkÆs legs are attached to a swivel, which is then attached to a lead .
. .ö
ôA leash!ö
ôLeash, sorry. Then what?ö
    ôYou wrap your leash round your fingers and tie it on to your
little finger.ö
ôSo that the hawk is now attached to your hand?ö
    ôThatÆs right. Well, when youÆve reached this stage and itÆs
stepping on to your glove regular, and feeding all right and not bating
too much . . .ö
ôBating? WhatÆs that?ö
ôTrying to fly off; in a panic like.ö
ôHow do you spell it?ö
ôB-A-T-I-N-G.ö
ôCarry on.ö
    ôWell, when youÆve reached this stage inside, you can try
feeding her outside and getting her used to other things. You call this
manning. That means taming, and youÆve got to have her well
manned before you can start training her right.ö
    While Billy was talking, Mr Farthing reached out and slowly
printed on the board B A T I N G; watching Billy all the time as
though he was a hawk, and that any sudden movement, or rasp of
chalk would make him bate from the side of the desk.
    ôYou take her out at night first and donÆt go near anybody. I
used to walk her round tÆfields at tÆback of our house at first, then as
she got less nervous I started to bring her out in today and then take
her near other folks, and dogs and cats and cars and things. YouÆve to
be ever so careful when youÆre outside though, Æcos hawks are right
nervous and theyÆve got fantastic eyesight, and things are ten times
worse for them than they are for us. So youÆve to be right patient, anÆ
all tÆtime youÆre walking her youÆve to talk to her, all soft like, like
you do to a baby.ö
    He paused for breath. Mr Farthing nodded him on before he
had time to become self-conscious.
    ôWell, when youÆve manned her, you can start training her
right then. You can tell when sheÆs ready, Æcos she looks forward to
you cominÆ anÆ thereÆs no trouble gettinÆ her on to your glove. Not
like at first when sheÆs bating all tÆtime.
    ôYou start inside first, makinÆ her jump on to your glove for
her meat. Only a little jump at first, then a bit further and so on; and
every time she comes youÆve to give her a scrap oÆ meat. A reward
like. When sheÆll come about a leash length straight away, you can
try her outside, off a fence post or summat like that. You put her
down, hold on to tÆend of your leash wiÆ your right hand, and hold
your glove out for her to fly to. This way you can get a double leash
length. After sheÆs done this, you can take her leash off anÆ attach a
creance in its place.ö
ôCreance?ö
Mr Farthing leaned over to the blackboard.
    ôC-R-E-A-N-C-E ù itÆs a long line, I used a long nylon
fishing line wiÆ a clasp off a dog lead, tied to one end. Well, you clip
this to your swivel, pull your leash out, and put your hawk down on a
fence post. Then you walk away into tÆfield unwindinÆ your creance,
anÆ tÆhawk sits there waitinÆ for you to stop anÆ hold your glove up.
ItÆs so it canÆt fly away, you see.ö
ôYes I see. It all sounds very skilful and complicated, Billy.ö
    ôIt donÆt sound half as bad as it is though. IÆve just telled you
in a couple oÆ minutes how to carry on, but it takes weeks to go
through all them stages. TheyÆre as stubborn as mules, hawks, theyÆre
right tempr . . . tempr . . .ö
ôTemperamental.ö
    ôTemperamental. Sometimes sheÆd be all right, then next time
IÆd go in, sheÆd go mad, screaminÆ anÆ batinÆ as though sheÆd never
seen me before. YouÆd think youÆd learnt her summat, anÆ put her
away feelinÆ champion, then tÆnext time you went you were back
where you started. You just couldnÆt reckon it up at all.ö
    He looked down at Mr Farthing, eyes animated, cheeks
flushed under a wash of smeared tears and dirt.
ôYou make it sound very exciting though.ö
    ôIt is, Sir. But most exciting thing waÆ when I flew her free
first time. You ought to have been there then. I waÆ frightened to
death.ö
    Mr Farthing turned to the class, rotating his trunk without
moving his chair.
ôDo you want to hear about it?ö
Chorus: ôYes, Sir.ö
Mr Farthing smiled and turned back to Billy.
ôCarry on, Casper.ö
    ôWell IÆd been flyinÆ it on tÆcreance for about a week, anÆ it
waÆ cominÆ back to me owt up to thirty, forty yards, anÆ it says in
tÆbooks that when itÆs cominÆ this far, straight away, itÆs ready to fly
loose. I darenÆt though. I kepÆ sayinÆ to missen, IÆll just use tÆcreance
today to make sure, then IÆll fly it free tomorrow. But when tomorrow
came I did tÆsmack same thing. I did this for about four days anÆ I got
right mad wiÆ missen Æcos I knew IÆd have to do it sometime. So on
tÆlast day I didnÆt feed her up, just to make sure that sheÆd be sharp
set next morning. I hardly went to sleep that night, I waÆ thinking
about it that much.
    ôIt waÆ on Friday night, anÆ when I got up next morning I
thought right, if she flies off, she flies off, anÆ it canÆt be helped. So I
went down to tÆshed. She waÆ dead keen anÆ all, walking about on her
shelf behind tÆbars, anÆ screaminÆ out when she saw me cominÆ. So I
took her out in tÆfield and tried her on tÆcreance first time, anÆ she
came like a rocket. So I thought, right, this time.
    ôI unclipped tÆcreance, took tÆswivel off anÆ let her hop on to
tÆfence post. There was nowt stoppinÆ her now, she waÆ just standinÆ
there wiÆ her jesses on. She could have took off anÆ there waÆ nowt I
could have done about it. I waÆ terrified. I thought sheÆs forced to go,
sheÆs forced to, sheÆll just fly anÆ thatÆll be it. But she didnÆt. She just
sat there looking round while I backed off into tÆfield. I went right
into tÆmiddle, then held my glove up anÆ shouted her.ö
Billy held his left fist up and stared out of the window.
    ôCome on, Kes! Come on then! Nowt happened at first, then,
just when I waÆ going to walk back to her, she came. You ought to
have seen her. Straight as a die, about a yard off tÆfloor. AnÆ tÆspeed .
. . She came like lightninÆ, head dead still, anÆ her wings never made a
sound, then wham! Straight up on to tÆglove, claws out grabbinÆ for
tÆmeat,ö simultaneously demonstrating the last yard of her flight with
his right hand, gliding it towards, then slapping it down on his raised
fist.
    ôI waÆ that pleased I didnÆt know what to do wiÆ missen, so I
thought just to prove it, IÆll try her again, anÆ she came tÆsecond time
just as good. Well that was it. IÆd done it. IÆd trained her.ö

(This extract is published by kind permission of Michael Joseph Ltd,
⌐ 1968 by Barry Hines.)