Snowdonia from Malltraeth, Anglesey
1: The Welsh Counties â administrative boundaries
One of the first problems confronting us was the question of which administrative (i.e. county) boundaries to use in Wales. Such an issue may appear at first consideration to be slightly fanciful. However it does present us as authors with a serious dilemma. The 13 âoldâ counties of Wales, established for some four hundred years, are those which are shown inside the back cover. In 1974 the âoldâ counties were summarily cast aside in favour of a slimmed-down set of eight super-counties â Gwynedd, Powys, Clwyd, Gwent, Dyfed and the three fragmented Glamorgans. The generation of Welsh youth now emerging from schools and colleges knows only these new names and is unfamiliar with names such as Monmouthshire, Cardiganshire, Flintshire or Denbighshire. However, the geographical units for bird recording in Wales have remained substantially unchanged, linked as they are into well-rooted traditions and frequently strongly tied to clubs, Trusts and other organisations firmly based on the âoldâ counties. In this respect, our task in transposing all the old records to a revised county basis which bore no relationship either to the former system or the on-going recording units, would have been both unscalable and incomprehensible to most readers. Wales is a small country and to try to discuss the âcountyâ distribution of bird species from an area such as Powys, which stretches from the summit of the Berwyn Mountains above Bala to the Swansea Valley, would have been to demean the book itself. Thus we believe we have had no option but to adhere to the âoldâ county boundary system, consistent with the areas on which bird recording in Wales has been based historically and on which it substantially continues to be collated. We apologise to any readers who may find this unfamiliar but hope that the maps on the inside of the covers will help make the transition easy.
As the book is prepared, another twist to the story arises as the Welsh Office now proposes the discarding of the 1974 counties in favour of (probably) some 23 âunitary authoritiesâ. Thus the administrative boundaries of Wales will be redrawn once again with the great likelihood that, certainly in most of rural Wales, we shall see the genuine resurrection of full county names such as Caernarfonshire, Pembrokeshire, Flintshire and Anglesey!
As a footnote to this explanation, it is perhaps relevant to mention one or two changes in recording which have tried to accommodate the 1974 changes to some degree. Since 1985, the Glamorgan Bird Report ceased to cover the erstwhile county of Glamorgan and became the Mid and South Glamorgan Bird Report, leaving West Glamorgan to be covered by an extended Gower Bird Report. For the same reason, An Atlas of Breeding Birds in West Glamorgan, published in 1992, covered the transient county of West Glamorgan.
At the same time (1985) in north Wales, the Cambrian Bird Report ceased to include records for the old county of Denbighshire which had already been pooling records with Flintshire to produce the Clwyd Bird Report. The Cambrian Bird Report simultaneously metamorphosed into the Gwynedd Bird Report covering the (former) counties of Anglesey, Caernarfonshire and Merioneth.
Bird Rock (Craig y Aderyn)
2: Myth and history
Throughout the process of researching for this book it has been easy to become diverted and sidetracked into fascinating glimpses of the past and to touch on the âvisibleâ parts of stories â factual, legendary and sometimes mythical â which are woven into the tapestry of Welsh ornithology. No factual seam is richer in this respect than that which runs through the amazing history of the protection of the remnant pairs of Red Kites in Wales (and therewith the entire British population) from the final decade of the 19th century up to the equivalent decade of the current one. It is the story of the longest running protection of a single bird species anywhere in the world. It is in the end a story â so far â of success: the saving and eventual recovery of a species snatched from the very edge of the abyss of extinction in Britain (see Peter Davisâs account on page 109). At the same time the history is also a cornucopia for those who enjoy the salty mixtures of human intrigue, deviousness, loyalty, disloyalty, secrecy, conflict, double standards or unswerving devotion to duty. These elements are not for the current volume, however, but are dealt with elsewhere. Other gems from the past, less factually-based in some cases, have caught our eye and one or two are worth relating.
We were particularly attracted to the account of the strange arrival of a Kiwi on Anglesey which was recorded in the Zoologist of 1853 by Josiah Spode from Rugeley in Staffordshire. He recounts the details of a bird shot that same year in a marsh on Anglesey
âI was startled with the resemblance to ⌠Apteryx, which I had seen in the gardens of the Zoological Society. I saw an absence alike of wings and tail: the feathers of hard, rough texture, the colour being an uniform dark brown: the head round the base of the beak and the eyes thinly covered with bristly hairs. Nothing I had ever seen bore a resemblance to the creature before me, except the Apteryx and I hastened to consult an eminent ornithologist ⌠He assured me that it belongs to the genus Apteryx ⌠How this creature could arrive at Anglesey seems a mystery unless it had escaped from a wrecked vesselâŚâ
Mr Spode was rewarded with the combined advice of several eminent ornithologists in succeeding volumes of the Zoologist, amongst which was this contribution from Edmund Brown.
âAs Apteryx is confined to a very limited region on the opposite side of our planet, not aquatic in its habits, totally incapable of flight and consequently one of the last birds ever likely to be met with in Britain ⌠I fear it will prove as difficult to account for the presence of Apteryx in Anglesey as it is for a physiologist to explain the growth of Mr Pickard-Cambridgeâs spider which increased to more than ten times its original size without material sustenance.â
We have, sadly, chosen not to include this record of a Kiwi within our volume, thereby depriving Welsh avifauna of what would have been an exciting addition to its list.
Two events on Grassholm are notable for one or two features. In the first incident, Thomas Henry Thomas relates (in Report and Transactions of the Cardiff Naturalistsâ Society 1890â91) how he, together with colleagues J. J. Neale and T. W. Proger ventured to Grassholm on a camping expedition in May 1890 where one of them had previously discovered Gannets nesting. His account is a minor classic of its time, encapsulating the thrill of discovery with a constant reflection of their evident delight at the privilege of being encamped on a tiny island in the midst of such a host of seabirds.
âWe were in the midst of a metropolis, thousands of white wings and breasts before us, on the grey and orange rocks, all ringed about by the azure white-flecked sea and sky; our ears were filled with a wild concert. Every rocky ledge and terrace has its rows of Puffins, and among them Guillemots and Razorbills; clinging under the ledges above the sea were pearly Kittiwakes and there among the rocks a Herring Gull ⌠and Black-backed gulls. High above a Peregrine falcon soared.â
However, their greatest thrill was evidently the Gannet colony, then a modest (but increasing) two hundred pairs or so; this was their real discovery.
Imagine their amazement on being woken in their tent on Whit Monday by the crack of rifle fire to discover âan attack was made upon the settlement of Gannets by a company from on board HMS Sir Richard Fletcher, followed by a landing and general battle upon shore, terminating in the slaughter of ⌠many of the birdsâ.
Seldom had such a national mayhem been created by an incident involving birds than that which followed the events nine miles out to sea on that peaceful May morning. The daily papers were alive with the story; questions were asked in the House by Mr Webster, MP for St Pancras, as the government with customary disdain, wriggled and twisted to protect its officers. Eventually, a private prosecution was taken successfully at Haverfordwest Sessions by the RSPCA, who still describe it as one of the most important they had fought to that time. Thomas Thomas concludes his piece with the note that âa large case containing Gannets, Puffins, Guillemots etc., killed by the party is now set up in the Cardiff Museum with a background painted to represent the Gannet settlementâ. The Royal Navy had an opportunity to atone for this crime 39 years later. On 9 June 1929 Mr Sturt, the then owner of Grassholm visited the island with R. M. Lockley, and they were alarmed to see smoke rising above it. The RSPB Watcherâs Report for the combined years of 1929 and 1930 records the graphic account of the incident and its eventual resolution:
âOn landing (we) found that some party had been there, left a good deal of picnic litter, and a fire burning. Grassholm is covered entirely by a deep (1 to 3 ft) bed of dead grass of the consistency of peat and this was flaming and burning as peat does, the fire being in the centre and as yet small, and not too near the peaty area where the Gannets nest.
âThe next day was misty, and it was not until the evening that, from Skokholm, it became clear enough to see that Grassholm was still afire, by the dense smoke that poured out. As some of the Fleet is anchored in Dale Roads I sent a letter to the Admiral asking if it is possible for him to help. The letter we delivered by boat to the flagship âRenownâ.
âWithin three hours of delivering my appeal to the Admiral, a destroyer had been sent out to Grassholm and landed blue-jackets to fight the fire.â
On 13 June, 1929, the Vice-Admiral Commanding Battle Cruiser Squadron Renown, at Milford Haven, reported:
ââWallaceâ proceeded to Grassholm on Wednesday 11th June, and reported at 6 p.m. that the fire consisted of smouldering peat about two feet deep and 200 yards in circumference. The Commanding Officer of âWallaceâ anticipated being able to extinguish the fire before dark, but by 8 p.m. the swell had increased considerably and it was necessary to re-embark the men. At the time that the men were re-embarked, a trench had been dug about three-quarters of the way round the fire and the Commanding Officer considered that the bird sanctuary was then out of danger.
On Thursday, 12th June, a party from H.M.S. âVortigernâ was landed on Grassholm and this party finally extinguished the fire on the western and southern slopes. The fire on the summit was also subdued by this party, but the officer in charge considered it would probably break out again as the island was excessively hot.â
On 19 June Admiral Pound added: âOn the evening of 13th June a volunteer party arrived from St. Davidâs and helped the men of H.M.S. âVeloxâ to complete the work of extinguishing the last remains of the fire. The party remained on the Island for the nightâ.
Stories of birds in vast numbers always have a special appeal. Peter Conder, then warden of Skokholm Bird Observatory (later Director of the RSPB), recorded (British Birds, vol. 47 p. 349) the emigration of huge numbers of passerines from the Dale and Marloes area of Pembrokeshire in advance of bitter weather in January 1952. With starlings alone he estimated âmillions of birds in an area of about two square milesâ. Forty-eight years earlier O. V. Aplin (Zoologist 1905 pp. 17â173) described â second-hand
âA great Immigration of birds at Pwllheli on the night of 17th March 1904. The wind was north-east and the night fine at Pwllheli, but at St Tudwalâs the weather was what they call âmisty rainâ, i.e. bordering on fog. The men in the quarry on the Gimblet Rock (Careg yr Imbril), at the entrance of Pwllheli harbour, were working extra time loading vessels, and flares were burning which lit up the whole place. This island-like rock juts out to some extent from the coast-line, and from its height is a very noticeable feature in a long stretch of low coast. Suddenly the workmen were startled by what some have termed a âflow of birdsâ and others a âshowerâ descending on the rock. Thousands of birds dropped on the quarry, the rock, the wharves, and the vessels close to, in a dying state. In a short time the ground was thickly covered with birds, most of them dead or in a dying condition, whilst a cloud of birds hovered in a helpless condition a few yards up in the air. At daybreak the seashore was found strewn with hundreds of birds, evidently drowned at sea, and washed ashore by the tideâ.
This account states that it was an inky dark night, and notices a theory that the birds struck the Rock, which would be between the sea and the place where the flares were burning. Another account said that a shower of birds suddenly fell on the workmen. âThousands of birds covered the ground in a few minutes â some dead, some half-dead. The vessels at anchor close to the wharf appeared to be instantly covered by birds from stem to stern, every available space on the riggings, stays, crosstrees, and yards being occupied.â Dead birds were found in every direction.
âAt daybreak the birds on the vessels flew away. Upon inspection there were thousands of dead birds in the quarry, on the top of the Rock, and on the stretch of land that reaches from the Gimblet Rock in the direction of the South Beach. Many of the birds were injured about the head, and there is no doubt but that, having lost their bearings in the thick dark night, and being attracted by the light of the flares, numbers of them struck against the precipitous seaward face of the Rock and other obstacles, while others more fortunate settled down within the influence of the light. On the morfa* thousands stood on the rigging and the ropes of vessels, and they say it was a very grand sight to see the glittering colours in the light⌠There were birds of every description. Most of them that were on the vessels flew away at daybreak.â
The following species were mentioned in the papers: Starling, Thrush, Blackbird, Snipe, Woodcock, Robin, Curlew. At St. Tudwalâs Lighthouse the same night they had lots of Starlings, Blackbirds and Redwings about the light, but saw no other birds; there were, however, more Blackbirds than the keeper ever saw at one time previously.
How much more exciting discoveries must have been two hundred years or so ago â and how the climate off the Pembrokeshire coast has evidently deteriorated in the interim. Robin Fenton in his Historical Tour Through Pembrokeshire 1811 leaves us a seductively alluring account of the seabirds on the Bishops and Clerks â a series of rocky islets north-east of Ramsey.
âOn these rocks an infinite number of seabirds breed, whose eggs are so thickly deposited all over the surface of them that if one egg on the summit be stirred in its irregular rotation it is known to carry with it hundreds of others. Though the birds are perpetually hovering around the rock yet no regular incubation is performed and the eggs are chiefly hatched by the sun here felt at the season in an almost tropical degree.â
Thomas Pennant in his Tours of Wales quotes âa very uncommon wreck of seafowlâ on Llšn in 1776 when âthe beach near Criccieth for miles together was covered with dead birds, especially those kinds which annually visit the rocks in summer, such as Puffins, Kittiwakes, Razorbills and Guillemots, Gannets, wild geese, Barnacles, Brent Geese, Scoters and Tufted Ducksâ. Such a gathering of âseafowlâ as reported to Pennant by The Revd Hugh Davies clearly needed divine inspiration as one cannot imagine the circumstances which could bring together such a spectrum of species, at whatever time of the year, along the Welsh coast, even if viewed from t...