Spadgecock’s Patented Wildfowl Distractor

It was never that easy for a gentleman to find a suitable device for intriguing any waterfowl before the invention of Spadgecock’s Patented Wildfowl Distractor, back in the Mid-Victorian period. Up until then the dubious serenity of certain water-based species of birds was most disconcerting to the naturalists who were beginning to take an interest in their surroundings as the scientific revolution spread. Furthermore, much to the relief of the Victorian gentry, it was discovered that over-luxuriant bewhiskering was no bar to taking an interest in the natural world as Charles Darwin himself so spectacularly demonstrated.

It was thought, initially, by some early theorists of the natural world that any bird caught unawares by a heavily-bewhiskered Victorian gentleman would immediately take to the air. This did, indeed, prove to be the case with a lot of birds easily scared off by the approach of a large Victorian gentleman, with his whiskers and all the mechanical devices and accoutrements that the Victorian felt necessary for his survival so far away from his servants, especially the scullery maids.

There was a fashion for the aspiring naturalist to take various devices on his expeditions, such as the well-known Mechanical Scullery maid. This was a steam-powered contrivance that could rummage around in a gentleman’s trouser region and inveigle its way through the copious amounts of Victorian underwear to bring relief to a gentleman whilst out in the wild and away from scullery maids and other female domestic staff, as well as too far away for any trollop, harlot or other lady of transactional voluptuousness able to assist with his yearnings.

When amateur birdwatcher and inventor Jebediah Spadgecock first witnessed a demonstration of the then new sport of Chicken-Intriguing, and saw how distracting birds by piquing their interest could prevent the birds from flying away, he came up with the idea of creating some sort of mechanical device that would so intrigue birds that they would not fly away, thus allowing bird watchers to get a good look at them.

However, much to Spadgecock’s chagrin, there didn’t seem to be much that wild birds were interested in, apart from finding stuff to eat, avoiding stuff that wanted to eat them and collecting nesting material. His first attempt at a device, based on the increasingly popular 'What the Butler Saw' machines, his 'What the Bullfinch Saw' displayed a female bird settling down in her nest for a little light preening. However, this did little to keep the attention of wild birds, with most immediately flying off to find some nesting material to impress the female who had – apparently – just appeared out of nowhere.

Then, one day, when Spadgecock was doing some in-depth research into the kinds of ostrich feathers preferred by London’s strumpets, harlots and totty at some of the capital’s more upmarket bordellos, he discovered one of the trollops had a budgie in a cage that was often fascinated by its own reflection in a mirror. This was the breakthrough Spadgecock had been waiting for, pausing only to have his way with seven of that bawdy house’s prime floozies, he hurried back to his workshop.

'Spadgecock’s Patented Wildfowl Distractor' was ready just in time for the Great Exhibition of 1851, where it soon became a must-see exhibit, second only in popularity to the latest steam-powered version of the Mechanical Scullery Maid.

'Spadgecock’s Patented Wildfowl Distractor' was based around a multitude of steam-powered rotating mirrors guaranteed to keep any bird mesmerised long enough for any aspiring Victorian gentleman naturalist to have a damned good look at the bird, and – possibly – even knock off a sketch or two of it, even whist being pleasured by his Mechanical Scullery maid.

Unfortunately, for Spadgecock, though, disaster struck one summer afternoon during the final field test of his Distractor when his workmen set up the Mechanical Scullery maid far too close to the Distractor whilst Spadgecock was himself distracted by a nearby meadow pipit.

Before anyone could warn Spadgecock to run, the Mechanical Scullery maid’s fingers were already intertwining themselves in the Distractor’s steam engine.

The resulting explosion was said to have been heard seven miles away and all that was left of Spadgecock himself were the last eighteen inches of his stovepipe hat and a grommet from the Distractor’s flange mechanism. Both of these items were buried, in lieu of a body, in Spadgecock’s local village church cemetery in a ceremony attended by several members of the Royal Society, representatives of the British Royal family and nearly every floozy, strumpet and harlot in London.

Spadgecock’s death put an end to any further research into ways of intriguing birds for several years, and – by then – photography had advanced enough to make any need for a Wildfowl Distractor superfluous, which was a sad end to yet another example of Victorian British genius.