The universal directory for taking alive and destroying rats

In Short

This book serves as a technical manual for the extermination of various "vermin," ranging from common house rats and mice to predators like foxes, otters, and birds of prey. Writing from the perspective of an experienced professional, the author provides detailed instructions on trapping, scenting, and baiting techniques designed to protect farms, warrens, and poultry houses. More than just a list of traps, the work offers a granular, sometimes unflinching observation of animal behavior, preserving the attitudes and economic necessities of rural English life in the late 1700s.

The Story

The narrative arc of the book is essentially the progression of a systematic campaign against nature’s unwanted interlopers. It opens with a defense of the author’s vocation, framing it as a necessary service to the community. By asserting that the "infinite wisdom of the great Creator" is as evident in a mole as in a lion, the author establishes a grounded, observational tone that respects the cunning of the "noxious" animals he intends to destroy.

The instruction begins with the fox, an animal the author treats with grudging respect for its "wilyness and sagacity." The text details the construction of traps and the careful use of scent to lure the animal, moving from the mechanical setup of the steel jaw to the psychological game of tracking and baiting. The author describes the struggle between the trapper and the prey, noting instances where a fox, "compelled by hunger and necessity," returns to a trap even after losing a limb.

As the text progresses, it turns toward amphibious and forest-dwelling predators like the otter and the marten cat. The arc shifts from the farmyard to the riverbank and the deep woods, detailing how to identify a predator’s path by looking for "billots" or discarded fish parts. The author then moves to the more domestic, yet equally destructive, threats: house cats that have turned wild and ferrets, which the author criticizes for the "infinite prejudice" they cause if mishandled in a rabbit warren.

The latter portion of the book focuses on smaller vermin—various species of mice and shrews—and the winged threats, including kites, hawks, owls, and crows. Here, the story becomes a study in habitat management. The author describes the "havoc" these predators wreak upon game and livestock, often recounting personal anecdotes of stakeouts and midnight hunts to bolster his methods. The book concludes with the grim, clinical reality of eradication, suggesting that the ultimate goal is not merely to trap, but to ensure the total security of one’s property. The ending is abrupt and practical, offering a final lesson on using the carcasses of vermin to drive away others, leaving the reader with a stark, efficient image of a managed, predator-free landscape.

How It Unfolds

The professional perspective The author introduces his craft as a humble but essential public utility, establishing the necessity of understanding animal behavior to effectively control it. He highlights the "surprizing methods" creatures use for self-preservation, framing his own tactics as the only logical counter-measure.

The mechanics of the trap The text transitions into highly technical descriptions of trap construction and placement, emphasizing the importance of moss and clean, natural-looking soil. The author warns against the smallest errors, such as handling the dirt too much or using a bridge that is too wide, which might render the animal "shy" and impossible to catch.

The war on predators Moving through various species, the guide outlines specific environmental cues for trapping, such as locating the "billots" of a fox or the discarded fish tails of an otter. Each chapter serves as a tactical briefing, identifying the unique weaknesses of the target animal and the best bait to exploit them.

Managing the domestic sphere The author provides counsel on maintaining a farm or warren, criticizing poor practices like the over-reliance on ferrets. He advocates for more deliberate, sustainable methods of population control that protect the "good" stock while removing the "worst."

The final cleanup The book concludes with strategies for clearing out infestations, such as using poisoned carcasses to deter remaining vermin. The tone remains consistent to the end: clinical, observant, and entirely focused on the success of the extermination.

The People

Robert Smith, the "late Rat-catcher to the Princess Amelia," is the sole voice and central figure of this treatise. He presents himself as an expert whose authority is derived from years of hands-on experience in the fields and forests of England. Smith is driven by a desire for efficiency and a pragmatic view of animal nature; he does not hate the animals he kills, but he views them as an economic threat that must be countered with superior intellect.

The "Gentleman, the Farmer, and the Warrener" act as the silent audience for whom Smith writes. They are the stakeholders who stand to lose their profits to a fox or their grain to a rat. Smith’s relationship with them is that of a consultant; he assumes they are currently failing due to "negligence and inattention" or the use of ineffective, "extravagant" methods. He aims to transform them from confused property owners into disciplined, successful trappers.

The animals themselves—the fox, the otter, the wild cat, and the owl—are treated as active, cunning antagonists. Smith grants them a degree of agency, describing them as "arch thieves" or "savage" creatures capable of learning and adapting. His perspective on them changes as he observes them; he moves from viewing them as simple pests to respecting them as worthy adversaries. By the end, Smith remains the victor, but his writing acknowledges that the animals’ "wonderful sagacity" makes his task a relentless, ongoing labor.

In Its Own Voice

"The infinite wisdom of the great Creator is as conspicuous in a mole as in a camel, in an ant as in a lion."

The author defends the value of his work by noting that even the lowliest vermin are part of a complex natural order.

"I have known them come again, when compelled by hunger and necessity, and sometimes even with three legs, and take the young rabbits out of the stops or holes, as before described."

Smith illustrates the extreme tenacity of the fox, a quality that makes the predator difficult to trap.

"There is no kind of vermin whatever so savage as a Norway Rat; again, when you find they have taken to a rick of any sort of corn or hay, take some dead Rats, put some arsenic over them, as before observed, then place one in each hole they have made in the thatch, and it will make them all forsake the rick."

This passage captures the author’s clinical and uncompromising approach to clearing infestations from farm structures.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an argument for the supremacy of human order over the wild. It views the landscape not as an untouched wilderness, but as a site of production—a place for rabbits to be raised, poultry to be kept, and grain to be stored. The central question is one of stewardship: how does a landowner exert control over a nature that is constantly attempting to reclaim their resources? Smith treats this as a technical challenge that requires intelligence, observation, and a willingness to act with cold precision. It is a document of human-centered survival, where the "wilyness" of the animal is met with an equally calculated, systematic human response, highlighting the tension between the domestic economy and the natural world.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the history of science, agriculture, or the evolution of pest control will find this manual a fascinating window into the eighteenth century. It feels remarkably immediate; the author’s voice is direct and unadorned, lacking the sentimental filters we often apply to nature today. There is an undeniable grit to the book, as it details the methods of a profession that has largely been sanitized or mechanized in modern times.

However, the reader should be prepared for the period-specific attitudes contained within. The descriptions of animal suffering and the casual cruelty of the methods described are not for the faint of heart. The language, while accessible, reflects the rigid, utilitarian class structure of the era, where certain animals are deemed "noxious" simply because they interfere with human property. The technical instructions are dense and occasionally difficult to visualize without the original plates, but the prose is clear enough to convey the author’s intent. For those who can look past the harshness, the book offers a rare look at the intimate, daily struggle to protect one's livelihood, a theme as relevant today as it was in 1786. It stays with you as a testament to human ingenuity and the enduring, competitive relationship between humanity and the wild.