Biology, mythology and aristocracy – Dick Eussen reflects on hog hunting’s extensive history
I was born in the Netherlands on a farm that fringed the German border, an area dangerous with discarded Second World War ordinance ‑ live ammunition, rifles, machine guns, grenades, mines and mortar bombs.
I was taught at an early age not to touch anything that I found in old bunkers that were hidden in the pine forests and woodlands on both sides of the border, but of course I did. I even learnt from an invalided German soldier how to toss hand grenades into ponds to stun trout, always a welcome addition to game meat I brought into the house.
As a youngster, I was an accomplished poacher and smuggler, able to ‘steal’ royal game and traffick tobacco and coffee to needy Germans who were doing it hard, even into the early 1950s. I spoke German, Dutch and the local dialect fluently.
The soldier also showed me how to make and set snares for rabbits, roe deer and wild boars that raided dad’s crops, and horse tail hair snares for pheasants. I was proficient setting rabbit traps on dung hills. What was not eaten at home was sold to a store in town. The owner was in cahoots with dad on smuggling.
I had a rabbit trap line set up along my 12km long school route and would leave early to check the snares for rabbits that were sold to the shop for pocket money. I was never caught, but had we not migrated to Australia in 1955 when I turned 12 on arrival, I think I would have had a different career…
Wild boar was on the menu, but difficult to snare due to their thick necks, as were roe deer that sported antlers. Big game snares were made from five strands of single flexible rabbit wire and twisted together for strength. When I caught a large animal dad did the butchering. He had little interest in hunting or fishing and most of what I learned was self-taught.
Wild boar
Only the rich had guns and groups would organise a drive on our 60ha farm for game ‑ hares, rabbits and pheasants, while night shooting under full moonlight for geese that flew across the border to feed on dad’s wheat was popular. I always managed to ‘steal’ a couple, as the shooters were too greedy to drop any in at home. It was justified as us kids collected the fallen birds.
I loved listening to hunters’ campfire tales when they gathered about it, cooking game and drinking schnapps and beer. Boars were revered and high on the list. Boar hunting was the stuff of heroic tales. I gathered it all in, dreaming that one day I would be old enough to own a gun and go boar hunting.
Wild boar hunting has always kept European hunters enthralled, an animal that was reserved for the aristocracy in the early Middle Ages, along with deer, lions, bison, wolves and bears, the latter having become rare in populated areas and small nations.
So if hunters wanted excitement and adventure, wild boar offered that. It was what was termed ‘black game’ because boars were regarded as the personification of evil, even the devil himself, and were the subject of mythical folklore that is preserved today. The first known German treatise on hunting, Buch der Natur, by Konrad von Megenberg symbolises and portrays the boar as an evil man who refused to repent and evolved into a permanent state of black and midnight sun.
Wall murals in ancient Pompeii depict hunting scenes showing boars and lions been lanced by hunters. The most famous is the Calydonian boar myth, which had the animal killed by Meleager. The remains were sited about monasteries and churches. The boar in question had huge tusks and historians believe it was a mammoth.
Such folklores and others made the boar legendary in European society. The first treatise written by Greek writer Xenophon (430-354 BC) provides precise accounts of boar hunting. Groups would gather and use Laconian dogs and others of wolf-like stature. The attack dogs wore heavy armour chain mail to protect them from deadly boar tusks. The dogs were constrained, with the exception of two used as trackers. When they discovered a boar they would bark, which was a signal to release the other dogs and a merry battle would ensue.
Wild boar hunting was deemed to be heroic and was only legal for the gentry. If a young knight wanted to impress a comely damsel, combat armed with a spear against a wild boar was guaranteed to win her favours.
Hunters also used nets to catch dog-driven hogs, while others were armed with spears. When confronted by an angry boar the hunter would grip the front of the spear in his left hand and the shaft with his right. With his feet wide apart, he would lean into the spear to parry the forceful impact of the animal impregnating itself onto the spear point. Should the trust miss, the huntsman would leap over the boar or throw himself to the ground into a ball, protecting his head with his arms, while his comrades rushed to his aid to keep the tusker at bay. But for real bravado, the hunter would face the beast armed with a short boar sword. It appears to have been introduced by Emperor Maximilian 1 and was purpose designed for horseback boar hunting. But it never caught on and after his death in 1519, hunters continued to favour long spears and lances. Bows and crossbows were preferred by stalkers. About this period a new weapon saw light, a flint-lock firearm fitted with one or two short barrels with a protruding spear head and a wheel lock.
Horseback hunt
Hunting on horseback was extremely popular with royalty – as you would expect from the gentry. Either sword, lance or spear was the choice. Again, the hunters relied on dogs to slow the boar. It is said to have its origins in southern Europe, but it is well documented among the Asian steppes and the Balkan tribes. Deer hunting on horseback was also popular with the aristocracy.
Beaters were used, while dug-out pits trapped the animals, but this was considered not sporting. Later when bows, crossbows, followed by firearms appeared, stalking and high platforms were used for the prey. But if anyone was caught poaching the king’s game they would be severely punished as by the Middle Ages, Europe’s royalty had stamped their rights on all animals as ‘royal’ game.
Historians claim that this period was the darkest in the history of hunting as the Royal Courts passed stringent laws that forbade the taking of all wild animals. Farmers suffered the most because they were forbidden to fence or use pickets to protect crops from marauding pigs and deer. It resulted in pigs multiplying in uncontrollable numbers, farmers going broke and villagers starving from lack of food. Only today, in countries like Australia, can we understand how pigs can increase in unimaginable numbers when not controlled.
In Germany, evangelist Martin Luther preached brimstone and fire condemning power-mad royals and rich landowners who stopped farmers from protection their crops and advocated compensation for losses from raiding pigs. It resulted in complaints and appeals from the people. Most went unheard, apart from making royals aware that people were starving due to being swamped by forest pigs and that they were demanding a fair share of pork.
Instead of sharing, the arrogant royals started a bloodbath of boar killing that became more depraved as time went by. They stated it kept the animals down to manageable numbers, but it probably had more to do with their corrupt greed than sharing game with peasants. In the 1700s, King Augustus II did exactly that by killing over 400 pigs during a single hunt in Saxony.
Others followed his example, like that recorded in Johann Tantzer’s works, Der Dianen Hohe und Niedere Jagd-Geheimnisse, in which he notes that the Elector, John George I of Saxony, recorded killing 116,906 animals (including 31,902 wild boars) in a 44-year period. His son, George II continued this by recording the killing of 111,141 animals that included 22,298 pigs in 24 years. That is 2.6 boars a day, plus other animals.
They were legends among European royalty, but you can only wonder how much time they devoted in ruling. Historians consider it the degeneration of noble game. Early paintings of the period depict barbarous gluttonous feasts and dinners by the spoiled aristocracy.
Herds of boars were driven into enclosures and massacred by royals via various means that included spears, guns and even rocket fire, while music played in the background to drown out the tormented squealing of mortally wounded animals. On one such event almost 1000 pigs were killed in the steadfast belief that the monarchs were helping farmers to save crops from predators.
But the kills did little to appease the poor, or control pig numbers, though slowly the tide turned in favour of the farmers and pheasants when they gave in to demands to outlaw boars that could be killed outside reserves and protected areas.
Wild boars today
The original European wild boar is described as shaggy and dark in colour. Indeed, very similar to the domestic pig of the day ‑ which evolved from wild stocks. It’s reported that the last true wild boars were shot out in Jutland in the 16th century and the final Danish boars vanished in the 19th century.
Germany and Turkey are said to have true wild boars but interbreeding with domestic pigs has challenged their DNA and basically, it’s the same animal that has gone feral in other parts of the world, including Australia, though 16 sub-species are recognised.
When you think about it, these early hunting scenarios are not that much different to what is practised today ‑ for instance fox hunting in Britain. This has origins that date back to the Middle Ages when demi-gods in classical literature were depicted as heroes when they confronted charging wild boars, bears and lions, the most dangerous animals on the European continent at the time.
Boar hunting has been with us for ever, first for food and later for sport that was fostered by the ferocity of boars and that they could be hunted at any time of the year. Modern hunting is very much based on traditional habits of old, apart from the equipment of choice. Dogs continue to be used worldwide, while traditional boar spears can be purchased in German sports stores by those who dare.
Wild boar hunting is enjoyed in many parts of the world, including Australia where escaping pigs are evolving back to their forebears, or close copies. In the Daintree Rainforest piglets are typically coloured in the same camouflaged stripes as the ‘true’ wild boars. They build branch and leaf nests where the sow gives birth. She uses it for shelter for the piglets until they are old enough to follow mum into surrounding farmlands.
If you have not hunted feral pigs, you are missing out on what is arguably the most traditional and exciting hunting that we have inherited from our forebears.