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"ALL. TKLAT WAS ILEFT OF TMEM
By Gilbert Holiday
LADY MURIEL BECKWITH
(INSET) MISS JEAN BECKWITH, HER DAUGHTER
Lady Muriel Beckwith is the older of the two daughters of the Duke of Richmond by his second marriage. Lady Muriel Beckwith married Lieut. -Colonel William Malebisse Beckwith, D.S.O., late Coldstream Guards, in 1904. Miss Jean Beckwith is the elder of their two daughters, and will be presented at one of the early Courts
Photographs by Lems. Queen Amte's Gate, s "'
.v.C.A.
i'Q A miLL ON THE PLOUGH SN THE COTSWOIUD COUNTiRY
-'I by Lionel Edwards, A.R.C.A. ^^
c
1
r
WORKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR
IN THE SHADOW OF THE PAGODA
WITH THE JUNGLE FOLK
WONDERS IN MONSTER LAND (With J. A. SHErHKRD)
THE ARCADIAN CALENDAR
THREE JOVIAL PUPPIES (With Sir Walter Gilbey)
GEORGE MORLAND : HIS LIFE AND WORKS
.^
Fox-hunting :
'Forrard away''
BRITISH SPORT
PAST AND PRESENT
BY
E. D. CUMING
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
G. DENHOLM ARMOUR
HODDER AND STOUGHTON LONDON MCMIX
Jo&crvNO Hoi^e To TiAE. K«N»(*i^
THKOO&H VVOOLSTrtORPe.
/iy F. A. SIJiUAKT
A DAY WITH THE UUKE OF RUTLAND'S HOUNDS
PREFACE
THIS book has been compiled in pursuance of a suggestion that extracts from the works of old writers on sport, with passages from those of modern authorities, would be of interest to sportsmen who take interest in the history of the subject.
No attempt has been made to trace the development of sports till they reached the form in which we know them ; and indeed an attempt to render justice to any one of those which receive notice in the following pages would obviously demand a volume to itself.
The old sporting classics have been freely laid under con- tribution. The pre-eminence of Somerville, Beckford, C. J. Apperley ('Nimrod'), William Scrope, and H. H. Dixon ('The Druid ') singles them out for quotation : and if the essays on sport left us by such men as Professor Wilson ('Christopher North ') and Charles Kingsley are less familiar to the present generation of sportsmen than their merits deserve, it is merely because these have been overshadowed by the wider celebrity of the authors' work in other fields of literature.
For permission to make extracts from modern works my thanks are due to Messrs. Vinton and Co., Ltd., who have
2057124
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
allowed me to draw upon Saddle and Sirloin for the Druid's account of ' A Waterloo Cup Day ' ; upon The Life and Times of the Druid for the same author's account of the St. Leger of 1850; and upon Baily's Magazine for Major Whyte-Melville's poem, ' The Lord of the Valley ' ; to Messrs. Longmans, Green and Co. for leave to take passages from Mr. Stuart Wortley's contribution to The Partridge ('Fur, Feather and Fin Series'); from the Hon. A. E. Gathorne- Hardy's Autumns in Argyleshire with Rod and Gun de- scriptions of grouse shooting and loch fishing, and from Sir Ralph Payne Galhvey's Letters to Young Shooters, 3rd Series, a description of wild fowling; and to the Hon. Secretary of the Cotswold Field Naturalists' Society for permission to reproduce from their Proceedings part of the late Major Hawkins Fisher's address on Falconry.
If there be anything in the adage that when a new book comes out you should read an old one, this compilation has claim upon the sportsman.
E. D. C.
VI
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
PAQC
FOX-HUNTING ....... 1
'ode to THli NORTH-EAST WIND ' .... 30
CHAPTER II STAG-HUNTING ....... 31
' THE LORD OF THE VALLEY ' . . . . .41
CHAPTER III HARE-HUNTING 43
CHAPTER IV OTTER-HUNTING 58
CHAPTER V PARTRIDGE SHOOTING 66
' THE FIllST OK SEFl'EMBER " . . • . .83
vii
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
CHAPTER VI GROUSE SHOOTING ...... 84
' THE GROUSE-SHOOTKr's CALL ' . . . . .97
CHAPTER VII PHEASANT SHOOTING ...... 99
CHAPTER VIII WILD FOWLING . . . . . . .112
CHAPTER IX COACHING ....... 123
' SOXG OF THK B.D.C. ' . . . . . . 148
CHAPTER X TANDEM DRIVING 149
CHAPTER XI
COURSING 152
viii
CONTENTS
CHAPTER XII
PAGE
SALMON FISHING ...... 165
' TJIK TAKIXG OF THE SAI.JION ' . . . . . 179
CHAPTER XIII TROUT FISHING 181
' SPRING ' . . - • . 1 95
CHAPTER XIV PIKE AND OTHER FISHING . .197
' THE SOUTH WIND '..-.■• *""
CHAPTER XV POLO ......•• 210
CHAPTER XVI DEER-STALKING AND COURSING . . • .223
CHAPTER XVII
FALCONRY
b ix
236
PAOK
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
CHAPTER XVIII RACING 248
CHAPTER XIX STEEPLE-CHASING 260
FOX-HUNTING
FOX-HUNTING,' wrote Beckford in 1787, 'is now become the amusement of gentlemen : nor need any gentleman be ashamed of it.' Time had been when fox-hunting and fox- hunters lay under social ban. Lord Chesterfield kindly bore testimony to the good intentions of him who followed the hounds, but could say little else in his favour : in the days of Queen Anne a ' fox-hunter,' in the esteem of some, meant a boor or something very like it ; but the slighting significance attaching to the word must surely have become only a memory long ere Beckford wrote.
There is, however, room for doubt whether fox-hunting in its early days was the amusement of others than gentlemen, and whether any such were ever ashamed of it. William the Third hunted with the Charlton in Sussex, inviting thither foreign visitors of distinction ; and Charlton continued to be the Melton of England in the days of Queen Anne and the two first Georges, for fox-hunting was the fashion. Harrier men maintain that their sport was reckoned the higher in these times ; but, I venture to think, harrier men are mistaken. Read this,' dated 14th July 1730, from Sir Robert Walpole to the Earl of Carlisle : —
' I am to acquaint your Lordship that upon the old Establishment of the Crown there have usually been a Master of the Buckhounds and a Master of the Harriers. The first is now enjoyed by Colonel Negus ; the latter is vacant, and if your Lordship thinks it more agreeable to be INIaster of the Foxhounds, the King has no objection to the style or name of
' Letters of Sii- Robert >\'alpole, Hist. J/.S^'. Comni. A 1
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
the office ; but, as the Master of the Harriers is an ancient and known office, thinks it may be better if your Lordship takes the addition of Foxhounds, and the office to be called Master of Foxhounds and Harriers, Avhich his Majesty is willing to grant to your Lordship with the salary of £2000 for yourself, deputy, and all charges attending the same.'
Lord Carlisle would not have sought the title of M.F.H. had that of M.H. carried the greater consideration.
May it not be that eighteenth-century hare-hunting owes something of the prestige it has enjoyed in the eyes of posterity to William Somerville ? Might we not have seen fox-hunting in somewhat different light had that been the theme of The Chace ? Perhaps, unconsciously, we attach to the sport the supremacy that has never been denied the poem ; whereby fox-hunting, lacking a chronicler, is thrown out of its true perspective.
When the chronicler arrived he was worthy of the office. This, his picture of a hunt,' shows him a hound man above all things : —
' . . . Now let your huntsman throw in his hounds as quietly as he can, and let the two whippers-in keep wide of him on either side, so that a single hound may not escape them ; let them be attentive to his halloo, and be ready to encourage, or rate, as that directs ; he will, of course, draw up the wind, for reasons which I shall give in another place. — Now, if you can keep your brother sportsmen in order, and put any dis- cretion into them, you are in luck ; they more frequently do harm than good : if it be possible, persuade those who wish to halloo the fox off, to stand quiet under the cover-side, and on no account to halloo him too soon ; if they do, he most certainly will turn back again : could you entice them all into the cover, your sport, in all probability, would not be the worse for it.
' How well the hounds spread the cover ! The huntsman, you see, is quite deserted, and his horse, who so lately had a crowd at his heels, has not now one attendant left. How
' Beckford's frequent quotations from The Cliacr are omitted.
2
FOX-HUNTING
steadily they draw ! you hear not a single hound, yet none of them are idle. Is not this better than to be subject to con- tinual disappointment from the eternal babbling of unsteady hounds ?
' How musical their tongues ! — And as they get nearer to him how the chorus fills ! — Hark ! he is found — Now, where are all your sorrows, and your cares, ye gloomy souls ! Or where your pains and aches, ye complaining ones ! one halloo has dispelled them all. — WTiat a crash they make ! and echo seemingly takes pleasure to repeat the sound. The astonished traveller forsakes his road, lured by its melody ; the listening plowman now stops his plow ; and every distant shepherd neglects his flock, and runs to see him break. — What joy; what eagerness in every face !
' Mark how he runs the cover's utmost limits, yet dares not venture forth ; the hounds are still too near ! — That check is lucky ! — Now, if our friends head him not, he will soon be off — hark ! they halloo : by G — d he 's gone ! Now, huntsman, get on with the head hounds ; the whipper-in will bring on the others after you : keep an attentive eye on the leading hounds, that should the scent fail them, you may know at least how far they brought it. Mind Galloper, how he leads them ! — It is difficult to distinguish which is first, they run in such a style ; yet he is the foremost hound. — The goodness of his nose is not less excellent than his speed : — how he carries the scent ! and when he loses it, see how eagerly he slings to recover it again ! — There — now he 's at head again ! — See how they top the hedge ! — Now, how they mount the hill ! — Observe what a head they carry, and shew me, if thou canst, one shuffler or skirter amongst them all ; are they not like a parcel of brave fellows, who, when they engage in an undertaking, determine to share its fatigues and its dangers, equally amongst them ? It was, then, the fox I saw, as we came down the hill ; — those crows directed me which way to look, and the sheep ran from him as he passed along. The hounds are now on the very spot, yet the sheep stop them not, for they dash beyond them. Now see with
3
BRITISH 8P0RT PAST AND PRESENT
what eagerness they cross the plain ! — Galloper no longer keeps his place, Brusher takes it. — See how he slings for the scent, and how impetuously he runs ! how eagerly he took the lead, and how he strives to keep it — yet Victor comes up apace. — He reaches him ! — See what an excellent race it is between them ! — It is doubtful which will reach the cover first. — How equally they run ! — how eagerly they strain ! Now, Victor — Victor ! — Ah ! Brusher, you are beaten ; Victor first tops the hedge. — See there ! see how they all take it in their strokes ! the hedge cracks with their weight, so many jump at once.
' Now hastes the whipper-in to the other side of the cover ; he is right unless he head the fox.
' Listen ! the hounds have turned. They are now in two parts : the fox has been headed back, and we have changed at last. Now, my lad, mind the huntsman's halloo, and stop to those hounds which he encourages. He is right ! — that, doubtless, is the hunted fox. — Now they are off again. Ha ! a check. — Now for a moment's patience ! — We press too close upon the hounds ! — Huntsman, stand still ! as they want you not. — How admirably they spread ! how wide they cast ! Is there a single hound that does not try ? If there be, ne'er shall he hunt again. There, Trueman is on the scent — he feathers, yet still is doubtful — 'tis right ! How readily they join him ! See those wide-easting hounds, how they fly forward to recover the ground they have lost ! — Mind Lightning, how she dashes ; and Mungo, how he works ! Old Frantic too, now pushes forward ; she knows as well as we the fox is sinking.
' Huntsman ! at fault at last ? How far did you bring the scent ? — Have the hounds made their own cast ? — Now make yours. You see that sheep-dog has coursed the fox : — get forward with your hounds, and make a wide cast.
' Hark ! that halloo is indeed a lucky one. — If we can hold him on, we may yet recover him ; for a fox so much distressed must stop at last. We shall now see if they will hunt as well as run ; for there is but little scent, and the impending cloud
4
FOX-HUNTING
still makes that little less. How they enjoy the scent ! — See how busy they all are, and how each in his turn prevails. Huntsman ! Huntsman ! be quiet ! Whilst the scent was good, you pressed on your hounds ; it was well done : when they came to a check you stood still, and interrupted them not ; they were afterwards at fault : you made your cast with judg- ment and lost no time. You now must let them hunt ; — ^with such a cold scent as this you can do no good ; they must do it all themselves ; lift them now, and not a hound will stoop again. — Ha ! a high road, at such a time as this, when the tenderest-nosed hound can hardly own the scent ! — Another fault! That man at work there, has headed back the fox. Huntsman ! cast not your hounds now, you see they have over- run the scent ; have a little patience, and let them, for once, try back. We must now give them time ; — see where they bend towards yonder furze brake — I wish he may have stopped there ! — Mind that old hound, how he dashes o'er the furze ; I think he winds him. — Now for a fresh entapis ! Hark ! they halloo ! Aye, there he goes. It is nearly over with him ; had the hounds caught view he must have died. — He will hardly reach the cover ; see how they gain upon him at every stroke 1 It is an admirable race ! yet the cover saves him. Now be quiet, and he cannot escape us ; we have the wind of the hounds, and cannot be better placed : — how short he runs ! — he is now in the very strongest part of the cover. — What a crash ! every hound is in, and every hound is running for him. That was a quick turn ! Again another ! — he 's put to his last shifts. — Now Mischief is at his heels, and death is not far off. — Ha ! they all stop at once : all silent, and yet no earth is open. Listen ! now they are at him again ! Did you hear that hound catch him ? They over-ran the scent, and the fox had laid down behind them. Now, Reynard, look to yourself ! How quick they all give their tongues ! — little Dreadnoughi, how he works him ! the terriers too, they are now squeaking at him. — How close Vengeance pursues ! how terribly she presses ! — it is just up with him ! Gods ! what a crash they make ; the
5
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
whole wood resounds ! — That turn was very short ! — There ! — now ! — aye, now they have him ! Who — hoop ! ' . . .
The practice of traiUng up to the fox had been, by some masters at least, abandoned at this time. Beckford drew a covert in the modern style, though he would have us at the covert-side by sunrise.
Colonel John Cook, Master of the Essex 1808-1813, suggests that the practice of meeting at sunrise was adopted with the definite purpose of hunting the fox before he was in running trim, or the slow hounds of an older generation would never have caught him.' However this may be, the system of meeting soon after sunrise and trailing up to the fox con- tinued in the New Forest during the earlier years of the nineteenth century, and is still pursued by the fox-hunters of the Fells, and in Wales : and these latter do not find their foxes unable to run in the early morning. When Colonel Cook wrote, in 1829, the sunrise meet had been generally renounced : ' The breed of hounds, the feeding, and the whole system is so much improved that the majority of foxes are found and killed . . . after twelve o'clock.'
There was, it must be said, at least one among the improve- ments the Colonel did not regard as such : to Avit, the second horse system, which by this time had been commonly adopted, no doubt as a result of the greater speed of hounds. It was introduced by Lord Sefton during his Mastership (1800-1802) of the Quorn. Lord Sefton was a heavy weight, but his example was speedily followed by those who had not burthen of flesh to excuse them.
The sporting ethics of a century ago were lenient on the subject of bagmen. It would seem from this note, culled from the Sporting Magazine of 1807, that if the owner of a pack wanted to hunt any particular district, and foxes hap-
' They certainly rec|uireil time to catch their fox on occasion : witness the famous Charlton run of 26th January 1738 : hounds found a vixen at 7.45 a.m. and killed her at .5..iO I'.M., having covered a distance conscientiously affirmed to be 58 miles 2 furlongs 10 yards.
6
FOX-HUNTIXG
pened to be scarce therein, he might temporarily stock the country without reproach : —
' Mr. Termor's excellent pack is come, or coming at the end of this month (December), from his seat in Oxfordshire to Epsom, for the purpose of hunting there during the remainder of the season. The gentlemen of Surrey expect much sport, as Mr. Fermor will turn out a great number of bagged foxes,'
When Squire Osbaldeston hunted in Suffolk, season 1822-3, Mr. E. H. Budd used to buy half-grown foxes for him from Hopkins in Tottenham Court Road, at thirty shillings a brace, and send them down in a covered cart, ten or twelve brace at a time.
It was very usual to turn out a bagman for a day's sport ; and such a fox often gave a much better run than the practice deserved. On 18th December 1905 the Master of the Chester Harriers had a bag fox turned out in Common Wood at a quarter-past twelve : he was given five minutes' law, was run to ground at Pick Hill, was bolted, and thereafter stood up before hounds till dark, when ' hounds were called off by the New Mills near Whitchurch. The whole chase is computed to be upwards of forty miles as the crow flies, and mth scarcely a check.' Mention of bag foxes recalls a comical story told of Tom Hills, the famous Old Surrey huntsman. He was carrvnng home, in the capacious pocket of his blouse, a fox he had been sent to buy in Leadenhall market. Stopped by a highwayman on Streatham Common, he responded to the demand for his money by bidding his assailant help himself from the pocket which contained the fox : and while the highwayman was bewailing his severely bitten fingers. Hills made his escape.
Long runs are frequently reported in the Sporting Magazine during the first decades of the nineteenth century. On Friday, 7th December 1804, Mr. Corbet's hounds found near Welles- bourne pastures, ran their fox for three hours with one five minutes' check, and killed — nay, ' most delightfully ran into ' him at Weston, about a mile from Broadway : a sixteen-mile
7
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
point. Of a field of nearly a hundred ' eager amateurs of fox- hunting,' fifteen were up or in view at the kill.
Nimrod's classic, best known as his ' Quarterly,' essay, by reason of its publication in that Review in 1832, gives us as vivid and spirited a picture of fox-hunting as we could wish : —
' . . . Let us suppose ourselves to have been at Ashby Pasture, in the Quorn country, with Mr. Osbaldeston's hounds, in the year 1826, when that pack was at the height of its well- merited celebrity. Let us also indulge ourselves with a fine morning in the first week of February, and at least two hundred well-mounted men by the cover's side. Time being called — say a quarter past eleven, nearly our great-grandfathers' dinner hour — the hounds approach the furze-brake, or the gorse, as it is called in that region. " Hark in, hark ! " with a slight cheer, and perhaps one wave of his cap, says Mr. Osbaldeston,' who long hunted his own pack, and in an instant he has not a hound at his horse's heels. In a very short time the gorse appears shaken in various parts of the cover — apparently from an unknown cause, not a single hound being for some minutes visible. Presently one or two appear, leap- ing over some old furze which they cannot push through, and exhibit to the field their glossy skins and spotted sides. " Oh, you beauties ! " exclaims some old Meltonian, rapturously fond of the sport. Two minutes more elapse ; another hound slips out of cover, and takes a short turn outside, with his nose to the ground and his stern lashing his side — thinking, no doubt, he might touch on a drag, should Reynard have been abroad in the night. Hounds have no business to think, thinks the second whipper-in, who observes him ; but one crack of his whip, with " Rasselas, Rasselas, where are you going, Rasselas ? Get to cover, Rasselas " ; and Rasselas immediately disappears. Five minutes more pass away. "No fox here," says one. " Don't be in a hurry," cries Mr. Cradock,^ "they are drawing
' Master from 1817 to 1821, ami again from 1823 to 1827.
- This gentleman resided within tlie limits (jf the Quorn hunt, and kindly super- intended the management of the covers. He has lately paid the debt of nature (Author's note).
8
Foxhounds, shozvtng Rounded and Unrounded Ear
FOX-HUNTING
it beautifully, and there is rare lying in it." These words are scarcely uttered, when the cover shakes more than ever. Every stem appears alive, and it reminds us of a corn-field waving in the wind. In two minutes the sterns of some more hounds are seen flourishing above the gorse. " Have at him there,'''' holloas the Squire,^ the gorse still more alive, and hounds leaping over each other's backs. " Have at him there again, my good hounds ; a fox for a hundred ! " reiterates the Squire, putting his finger in his ear, and uttering a scream which, not being set to music, we cannot give here. Jack Stevens (the first whipper-in) looks at his watch. At this moment John White, Val, Maher, Frank Holyoake (who will pardon us for giving them their noms-de-chasse), and two or three more of the fast ones, are seen creeping gently on towards a point at which they think it probable he may break. " Hold hard there," says a sportsman ; but he might as well speak to the winds. " Stand still, gentlemen ; pray stand still," exclaims the huntsman ; he might as well say so to the sun. During the time we have been speaking of, all the field have been awake — gloves put on — cigars thrown away — the bridle-reins gathered well up into the hand, and hats pushed down upon the brow.
' At this interesting period, a Snob, just arrived from a very rural country, and unknown to any one, but determined to witness the start, gets into a conspicuous situation : " Come away, sir ! " holloas the master (little suspecting that the Snob may be nothing less than one of the Quarterly Reviewers). " What mischief are you doing there ? Do you think you can catch the fox ? " A breathless silence ensues. At length a whimper is heard in the cover — like the voice of a dog in a dream : it is Flourisher, and the Squire cheers him to the echo.
' In an instant a hound challenges — and another — and another. 'Tis enough. "Tally-ho ! '' cries a countryman in a tree. " He 's gone," exclaims Lord Alvanley ; and, clapping his spurs to his horse, in an instant is in the front rank.
' Mr. Osbaldeston was popularly called ' Squire ' Osbaldeston. B 9
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
' As all good sportsmen would say, " 'Ware, hounds ! " cries Sir Harry Goodricke. " Give them time," exclaims Mr. John Moore. "That's right," says Mr. Osbaldeston, "spoil your own sport as usual." " Go along,'''' roars out Mr. Holyoake, " there are three couple of hounds on the scent." " That 's your sort," says " Billy Coke," ' coming up at the rate of thirty miles an hour on Advance, with a label pinned on his back, "she kicks"; "the rest are all coming, and there's a rare scent to-day, I 'm sure."
' Bonaparte's Old Guard, in its best days, would not have stopped such men as these, so long as life remained in them. Only those who have witnessed it can know in what an extra- ordinary manner hounds that are left behind in a cover make their way through a crowd, and get up to leading ones of a pack, which have been fortunate in getting away with their fox. It is true they possess the speed of a race-horse ; still nothing short of their high mettle could induce them to thread their way through a body of horsemen going the best pace with the prospect of being ridden over and maimed at every stride they take. But, as Beckford observes, " 'Tis the dash of the foxhound which distinguishes him." A turn, however, in their favour, or a momentary loss of scent in the few hounds that have shot ahead — an occurrence to be looked for on such occasions — joins head and tail together, and the scent being good, every hound settles to his fox ; the pace gradually improves ; vires acquirit eundo ; a terrible hurst is the result !
' At the end of nineteen minutes the hounds come to a fault, and for a moment the fox has a chance ; in fact, they have been pressed upon by the horses, and have rather over- run the scent. " What a pity," says one. " What a shame ! " cries another ; alluding, perhaps, to a young one, who would and could have gone still faster. " You may thank yourselves for this," exclaims Osbaldeston, well up at the time, Ashton -
' Said to be the desiffner of the ' billy-cock ' hat.
- Mr. Osbaldeston sold Ashtoii to Lord I'lymouth for four hundred guineas after having ridden him six seasons (Author's note).
10
FOX-HUNTING
looking fresh ; but only fourteen men out of the two hundred are to be counted ; all the rest coming. At one blast of the horn, the hounds are back to the point at which the scent has failed. Jack Stevens being in his place to turn them. " Yo doit! Pastime! " says the Squire, as she feathers her stern down the hedge-row, looking more beautiful than ever. She speaks ! " Worth a thousand, by Jupiter ! " cries John White, looking over his left shoulder as he sends both spurs into Euxton, delighted to see only four more of the field are up. Our Snob, however, is amongst them. He has " gone a good one," and his countenance is expressive of delight, as he urges his horse to his speed to get again into a front place.
' The pencil of the painter is now wanting ; and unless the painter should be a sportsman, even his pencil would be worth little. What a country is before him ! — what a panorama does it represent ! Not a field of less than forty — some a hundred acres — and no more signs of the plough than in the wilds of Siberia. See the hounds in a body that might be covered by a damask table-cloth — every stern down, and every head up, for there is no need of stooping, the scent lying breast- high. But the crash ! — the music ! — how to describe these ? Reader, there is no crash now, and not much music. It is the tinker that makes great noise over a little work, but at the pace these hounds are going there is no time for babbling. Perchance one hound in five may throw his tongue as he goes to inform his comrades, as it were, that the villain is on before them, and most musically do the light notes of Vocal and Venus fall on the ear of those who may be within reach to catch them. But who is so fortunate in this second burst, nearly as terrible as the first ? Our fancy supplies us again, and we think we could name them all. If we look to the left, nearly abreast of the pack, we see six men going gallantly, and quite as straight as the hovmds themselves are going ; and on the right are four more, riding equally well, though the former have rather the best of it, owing to having had the inside of the hounds at the last two turns, which must be placed to the
11
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
chapter of accidents. A short way in the rear, by no means too much so to enjoy this brilliant run, are the rest of the Mite of the field, who had come up at the first check ; and a few who, thanks to the goodness of their steeds, and their determina- tion to be with the hounds, appear as if dropped from the clouds. Some, however, begin to show symptoms of distress. Two horses are seen loose in the distance — a report is frying about that one of the field is badly hurt, and something is heard of a collar-bone being broken, others say it is a leg ; but the pace is too good to inquire. A cracking of rails is now heard, and one gentleman's horse is to be seen resting, nearly balanced, across one of them, his rider being on his back in the ditch, which is on the landing side. " Who is he ? " says Lord Brudenel ^ to Jack Stevens. " Can't tell, my Lord ; but I thought it was a queerish place when I came o'er it before him." It is evidently a case of peril, but the pace is too good to afford help.
' Up to this time. Snob has gone quite in the first flight ; the " dons " begin to eye him, and when an opportunity^ offers, the question is asked, " Who is that fellow on the little bay horse ? " " Don't know him," says Mr. Little Gilmour (a fourteen-stone Scotchman, by-the-by), ganging gallantly to his hounds. " He can ride," exclaims Lord Rancliffc. " A tip- top provincial, depend upon it," added Lord Plymouth, going quite at his ease on a thorough-bred nag, three stone above his weight, and in perfect racing trim. Animal nature, however, will cry " enough," how good soever she may be, if unreason- able man press her beyond the point. The line of scent lies right athwart a large grass ground (as a field is termed in Leicestershire), somewhat on the ascent ; abounding in ant- hills, or hillocks, peculiar to old grazing land, and thrown up by the plough, some hundred years since, into rather high ridges, with deep, holding furrows between each. The fence at the top is impracticable — Meltonicfe, " a stopper " ; nothing for it but a gate, leading into a broad green lane, high and
' Afterwards Lord Cardigan.
12
FOX-HUNTING
strong, with deep, slippery ground on each side of it. " Now for the timber-jumper," cries Osbaldeston, pleased to find himself upon Ashton, " For Heaven's sake, take care of my hounds, in case they may throw up in the lane." Snob is here in the best of company, and that moment perhaps the happiest of his life ; but, not satisfied with his situation, wishing to out-Herod Herod, and to have a fine story to tell when he gets home, he pushes to his speed on ground on which all regular Leicestershire men are careful, and the death-w^arrant of the little bay horse is signed. It is true he gets first to the gate, and has no idea of opening it ; sees it contains five new^ and strong bars, that will neither bend nor break ; has a great idea of a fall, but no idea of refusing ; presses his hat firmly on his head, and gets his whip-hand at liberty to give the good little nag a refresher ; but all at once he perceives it will not do. When attempting to collect him for the effort, he finds his mouth dead and his neck stiff ; fancies he hears something like a wheezing in his throat ; and discovering quite un- expectedly that the gate would open, wisely avoids a fall, which was booked had he attempted to leap it. He pulls up, then, at the gate ; and as he places the hook of his whip under the latch, John ^Vhite goes over it close to the hinge-post, and Captain Ross, upon Clinker, follows him. The Reviewer then walks through.
' The scene now shifts. On the other side of the lane is a fence of this description : it is a newly plashed hedge, abound- ing in strong growers, as they are called, and a yawning ditch on the further side ; but, as is peculiar to Leicestershire and Northamptonshire, a considerable portion of the blackthorn, left uncut, leans outwards from the hedge, somewhat about breast-high. This large fence is taken by all now with the hounds — some to the right and some to the left of the direct line ; but the little bay horse would have no more of it. Snob puts him twice at it, and manfully too ; but the wind is out of him, and he has no power to rise. Several scrambles, but only one fall, occur at this rasper, all having enough of the killing
13
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
pace ; and a mile and a half further, the second horses are fallen in with, just in the nick of time. A short check from the stain of sheep makes everything comfortable ; and, the Squire having hit off his fox like a workman, thirteen men, out of two hundred, are fresh mounted, and with the hounds, which settle to the scent again at a truly killing pace.
' " Hold hard, Holyoake ! " exclaims Mr. Osbaldeston (now mounted on Clasher), knowing what double-quick time he would be marching to, with fresh pipes to play upon, and the crowd well shaken off ; " pray don't press 'em too hard, and we shall be sure to kill our fox.^ Have at him there, Abigail and Fickle, good bitches — see what a head they are carrying ! I '11 bet a thousand they kill him." The country appears better and better. " He 's taking a capital line," exclaims Sir Harry Goodricke, as he points out to Sir James Musgrave two young Furrier hounds, who are particularly distinguishing themselves at the moment. " Worth a dozen Reform Bills," shouts Sir Francis Burdett," sitting erect upon Sampson,^ and putting his head straight at a yawner. " We shall have the Whissendine brook," cries Mr. Maher, who knows every field in the country, " for he is making straight for Teigh." " And a bumper too, after last night's rain," holloas Captain Berkeley, determined to get first to four stiff rails in a corner. " So much the better," says Lord Alvanley, " I like a bumper at all times." " A fig for the Whissendine," cries Lord Gardner ; " I am on the best water-jumper in my stable."
' The prophecy turns up. Having skirted Ranksborough gorse, the villain has nowhere to stop short of Woodwell-head
' One peculiar excellence in Mr. Osbaldeston's hounds was their steadiness under pressure by the crowd (Author's note).
' Sir Francis Burdett, M.P. for Westminster 1807-]8.'^7, was prominent among the organisers of the 'Hampden Clubs,' founded in liiKi and after, for parliamentary reform. He »vas twice imprisoned on political charges, in 1810 and 1820.
' A favourite hunter of the baronet's, which he once honoured by coming all the way from London to Melton to ride 07ie day with hounds (Author's note).
14
FOX-HUNTING
cover, which he is pointing for ; and in ten minutes, or less, the brook appears in view. It is even with its banks, and as
" Smooth glides the water where tlie brook is deep,"
its deepness was pretty certain to be fathomed. " Yooi, over he goes ! " holloas the Squire, as he perceives Joker and Jewell plunging into the stream, and Red-rose shaking herself on the opposite bank. Seven men, out of thirteen, take it in their stride ; three stop short, their horses refusing the first time, but come well over the second ; and three find themselves in the middle of it. The gallant Frank Forester is among the latter ; and having been requested that morning to wear a friend's new red coat, to take off the gloss and glare of the shop, he accomplishes the task to perfection in the bluish- black mud of the Whissendine, only then subsiding after a three days' flood. " Who is that under his horse in the brook ? " inquires that good sportsman and fine rider, Mr. Green of RoUeston, whose noted old mare had just skimmed over the water like a swallow on a summer's evening. " It 's Middleton Biddulph," says one. " Pardon me," cries Mr, Middleton Biddulph ; " Middleton Biddulph is here, and here he means to be ! " " Only Dick Christian," answers Lord Forester, " and it is nothing new to him." ' " But he '11 be drowned," exclaims Lord Kinnaird. " I shouldn't wonder," observes Mr. William Coke. But the pace is too good to inquire.
The fox does his best to escape : he threads hedgerows, tries the out-buildings of a farm-house, and once turns so short as nearly to run his foil ; but — the perfection of the thing — the hounds turn shorter than he does, as much as to say — die you shall. The pace has been awful for the last twenty minutes. Three horses are blown to a stand-still, and few are going at their ease. " Out upon this great carcase of mine ! no horse that was ever foaled can live under it at this pace, and over this country," says one of the best of the welter-weights, as
' ' Talk of tumbles ! 1 have had eleven iu one day down there [Melton] when I was above seventy.' — Dick Christian's Lectures, see Post and Paddock by ' The Druid.'
15
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
he stands over his four-hundred-guinea chestnut, then rising from the ground after giving him a heavy fall — his tail nearly erect in the air, his nostrils violently distended, and his eye almost fixed. " Not hurt, I hope," exclaimed Mr. Maxse, to somebody whom he gets a glimpse ol' through the openings of a tall quickset hedge which is between them, coming neck and croup into the adjoining field, from the top bar of a high, hog- backed stile. His eye might have been spared the unpleasing sight, had not his ear been attracted to a sort of procumbit- humi-bos sound of a horse falling to the ground on his back, the bone of his left hip indenting the greensward within two inches of his rider's thigh. It is young Peyton, who, having missed his second horse at the check, had been going nearly half the way in distress ; but from nerve and pluck, perhaps peculiar to Englishmen in the hunting field, but very peculiar to himself, got within three fields of the end of this Ibrilliant run. The fall was all but a certainty ; for it was the third stiff timber-fence that had unfortunately opposed him, after his horse's wind had been pumped out by the pace ; but he was too good to refuse them, and his horse knew better than to do so.
The JEneid of Virgil ends with a death, and a chase is not complete without it. The fox dies within half a mile of Woodwell-head cover, evidently his point from the first ; the pack pulling him down in the middle of a large grass field, every hound but one at his brush.'
Such was fox-hunting in Leicestershire in the days of William the Fourth. Multiply the number of the field by three or four, stir in references to railways, ladies, and perhaps to an overlooked strand of wire, and the story might stand as of to-day.
Wire began to come into use in the late 'fifties : in 1862 the Atherstone country was dangerously wired : in 1863-1804 Mr. Tailby's was so much wired that special endeavours were successfully made to remove it. Barbed wire was first used in England in 1882.
16
FOX-HUNTING
Here are, epitomised, some of the great runs of the last eiglity years : —
17ih March 1837.— Mr. Delme RadcHffe's Wendover Run. Found at Kensworth at half-past two, ran their fox to Hampden and lost him at dusk : 2 hours 35 minutes : IS^ miles point to point, 26 as hounds ran. Fox found dead in a rick-yard next morning.
9th February 1849. — The Old Findon (Surrey). Ran their fox 45 miles in 4 hours 50 minutes : last 22 miles nearly straight : killed in Dorking Glory, Surrey.
2nd February 1866. — The Pytchley, Waterloo Run. Found in Waterloo Gorse at five minutes past two, ran to Blatston : 3 hours 45 minutes : whipped off in the dark at 5.30. 13 couples of hounds up of 17| out.^
3rd February 1868. — The INIeynell, Radburne Run. Found in the Rough : fast but erratic run to near Biggin, 3 hours 37 minutes : 36 miles : fox believed to have been knocked over when dead beat by a farmer.
22nd February 1871. — Duke of Beaufort's Greatwood Rmi. Found Gretenham Great Wood : marked to ground on Swindon side of High worth : 14 miles point to point : 28 miles as hounds ran. 3 hours 30 minutes.
16th February 1872. — Mr. Chaworth Musters's Harlequin Run. Found in the Harlequin Gorse, Ratcliffe-on-Trent : ran very straight to Hoton Spinney and back to beyond Kin- moulton Woods. Killed. Over 35 miles : 3 hours 26 minutes. 15h couples of hounds up of 17i out.
9th February 1881. — INIr. Rolleston's Lowdham Run. Found in Halloughton Wood : ran 16 miles to Eakring Brales : 12 mile point, gave up at dusk : very fast all the way, but time not recorded. Dead fox found in Eakring Brales two days after.
1st December 1888. — The Grafton, Brafield Run. Found
' Mr. Robert Fellowes, who rode in this run, thinks it much overrated : ' hounds were continually changing foxes and were never near catching one of them. It was only a journev.'
c 17
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
in Brafield Furze on Mr, Christopher Smythe's property : ran perfectly straight for 8 miles : turned left-handed and killed after another 50 minutes' fast hunting. Every hound up.
lUh December 1894. — The Quorn, Barkby Holt Run. Found in Barkby Holt : 27 miles in 2 hours 5 minutes to ground in Bolt Wood. Grass all the way : very fast : horses stopping in every field.
2nd January 1899. — The Craven Sydmonton Run. Found in Sydmonton Big Wood. Hounds stopped at Tubbs Copse near Bramley Station. 10 miles point to point : 20 miles as hounds ran. First ten miles so fast nobody could get near hounds.
27th March 1903.— The Quorn Barkby Holt Run. 12 miles to just short of Oakham Pastures. Killed.
It is the exception rather than the rule for one of these long runs to end with a kill. The fact that six out of the eleven occurred in February will be remarked.
These are some of the strange places wherein foxes have been killed or left : — On the housekeeper's bed upstairs, Catas Farm, near Heather, Leicestershire : late in October or early November 1864 (clubbed while asleep by a waggoner). Kitchen of a builder at Wetherby, Bramham Moor killed 31st May 1875. In Mr. Fernie's country : took refuge beside a ploughman and his team, November 1899. Killed in Broughton Astley Church, near Leicester, while congregation assembling, Friday, 12th August 1900. Down farmhouse chimney from the roof : fire raked out, and left by Essex and Suffolk, 26th December 1903. Mineral water factory : employes usurped function of hounds and lost : Atherstone, March 1904.
The height from which a fox can drop without hurting himself is very extraordinary. Foxes often seek refuge in trees, ^ and if disturbed drop to ground without hesitation.
' This trait seems to be of modern development. I have found no mention of tree- climbing foxes in the records of a century back.
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FOX-HUNTING
The greatest drop of which I have record occurred on the 19th February 1886 in the Blackmore Vale country. The second whipper-in ascended the shghtly slanting elm up which the fox, helped by ivy, had climbed. The fox eventually went nearly to the top, and as it was thought he must fall and be killed when he tried to get down, he was dislodged. He dropped a distance of forty-four feet, falling on his nose and chest, but stood up before hounds for two miles before they killed him.
A season never passes without half a dozen foxes seeking shelter in dwellings — rather a pathetic tribute to humanity ; but the most resolute seeker after such sanctuary is that recorded of a fox hunted by the Border on 4th February 1904. First he tried, and failed, to take refuge in a smithy wash- house at Yetholm : then crossed the village and hid in the room of a house undergoing repairs : driven out, he entered yet another house by the kitchen window and went upstairs to a bedroom : dislodged again, he was run into and killed in a neighbouring garden. There is record of a fox seeking a hiding-place in the cleaned carcase of a recently killed sheep, but I cannot find particulars.
The strangest place in which to lay up her litter was chosen by a Heythrop vixen in July 1874. There is at Oddington an old disused church : the vixen established her nursery in the pulpit.
When we consider how closely the country is hunted, it is not wonderful that packs should occasionally clash. On 3rd April 1877 Lord Galway's, on their way to draw Maltby Wood, after a morning run, hit off the line of a fox : he showed signs of being beaten, and they killed him after a com- paratively short burst. While breaking him up Lord Fitz- william's hounds came up : Lord Galway's had ' cut in ' and killed the fox they were hunting.
The average weight of the fox is put at from 11 to 14 lbs. : of a vixen, 9 to 12 lbs. All the heaviest foxes recorded have been fell foxes : the biggest actually weighed was killed by
19
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND I'RESENT
the Ullswater on Cross Fell Range : 23 lt)s., fom- feet four inches from tip to tip : date not given. In March 1874 Mr. F. Chapman weighed alive a bagman turned out at Palmer Flat, Aysgarth, Yorkshire, 21 lbs. On 13th December 1877 the Melbrake killed two foxes, 20^ and 18J lbs. On 4th January 1878 the Sinnington killed a lO^-lb. fox. The fox that was too heavy for a 20-lb. scale, but was estimated to weigh 26 lbs., must be regretfully omitted from the list.
As I write comes one having pretty talent for conundrums, to ask when the practice of rounding the ears of hounds came into use. The question is difficult to answer. The few hound pictures of Francis Barlow (b. 1626, dec. 1702) show no rounded ears : the many pictures of John Wootton (b. circa 1685, dec. 1765) show ears rounded, but in less degree than at a later date, but also ears in the natural state. In his ' Death of the Fox ' some of the hounds are rounded and some are not : in his ' Portraits of Hounds ' three arc rounded and one is not. Unfortunately none of these works are dated. Stephen Elmer's portrait of Mr. Corbet's Trojan, entered 1780, shows the ears closely rounded. In the engravings from Wootton's works some hounds' ears seem to be cut to a point ; ' peaked ' would describe the shape ; but I have never seen any reference in early hunting books to this or any other method of cutting the ears. Peaking would answer much the same purpose as rounding, an operation now not universally practised.
Is there anything in the literature of the chase more delightful than this from Charles Kingsley's ' My Winter Garden ' ? ^
' . . . Stay. There was a sound at last ; a light footfall. A hare races towards us, through the ferns, her great bright eyes full of terror, her ears aloft to catch some sound behind. She sees us, turns short, and vanishes into the gloom. The mare pricks up her ears too, listens, and looks : but not the way the hare has gone. There is something more coming ; I can trust the finer sense of the horse, to which (and no wonder)
' Prater's Magazine, April 1858.
20
FOX-HUNTING
the Middle Ages attributed the power of seeing ghosts and fairies impalpable to man's gross eyes. Beside, that hare was not travelling in search of food. She was not " loping " along, looking around her right and left, but galloping steadily. She has been frightened, she has been put up : but what has put her up ? And there, far away among the fir-stems, rings the shriek of a startled blackbird. What has put him up ? That, old mare, at sight whereof your wise eyes widen until they are ready to burst, and your ears are first shot forward toward your nose, and then laid back with vicious intent. Stand still, old woman ! Do you think still, after fifteen winters, that you can catch a fox ? A fox, it is indeed ; a great dog-fox, as red as the fir-stems between which he glides. And yet his legs are black with fresh peat stains. He is a hunted fox : but he has not been up long. The mare stands like a statue : but I can feel her trembling between my knees. Positively he does not see us. He sits down in the middle of a ride, turns his great ears right and left, and then scratches one of them with his hind foot, seemingly to make it hear the better. Now he is off again and on.
' Beneath yon firs, some hundred yards away, standeth, or rather lieth, for it is on dead flat ground, the famous castle of Malepartus, which beheld the base murder of Lampe, the hare, and many a seely soul beside. I know it well : a patch of sand heaps, mingled with great holes, amid the twining fir roots ; ancient home of the last of the wild beasts.
' And thither, unto Malepartus safe and strong, trots Reinecke, where he hopes to be snug among the labyrinthine windings, and innumerable starting-holes, as the old apologue has it, of his ballium, covert- way and donjon keep.
' Full blown in self-satisfaction he trots, lifting his toes delicately, and carrying his brush aloft, as full of cunning and conceit as that world-famous ancestor of his, whose deeds of unchivalry were the delight, if not the model, of knight and kaiser, lady and burgher, in the Middle Age.
' Suddenly he halts at the great gate of Malepartus ;
21
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
examines it with his nose, goes on to a postern ; examines that also, and then another and another ; while I perceive afar, projecting from every cave's mouth, the red and green end of a new fir-faggot. Ah Reinecke ! fallen is thy conceit, and fallen thy tail therewith. Thou hast worse foes to deal with than Bruin the bear, or Isegrim the wolf, or any foolish brute whom thy great ancestor outwitted. Man, the many-coun- selled, has been beforehand with thee ; and the earths are stopped.
' One moment he sits down to meditate, and scratches those trusty counsellors, his ears, as if he would tear them off, " revolving swift thoughts in a crafty mind." He has settled it now. He is up and off — and at what a pace ! Out of the way. Fauns and Hamadryads, if any be left in the forest. What a pace ! And with what a grace beside !
' Oh Reinecke, beautiful thou art, of a surety, in spite of thy great naughtiness. Art thou some fallen spirit, doomed to be hunted for thy sins in this life, and in some future life rewarded for thy swiftness, and grace, and cunning by being made a very messenger of the immortals ? Who knows ? Not I. I am rising fast to Pistol's vein. Shall I ejaculate ? Shall I notify ? Shall I waken the echoes ? Shall I break the grand silence by that scream which the vulgar view-halloo call ? It is needless ; for louder and louder every moment swells up a sound which makes my heart leap into my mouth, and my mare into the air. . . .
' Music ? Well-beloved soul of HuUah, would that thou wert here this day, and not in St. Martin's Hall, to hear that chorus, as it pours round the fir-stems, rings against the roof above, shatters up into a hundred echoes, till the air is live with sound ! You love Madrigals, or whatever Weelkes, or Wilbye, or Orlando Gibbons sang of old. So do I. Theirs is music fit for men : worthy of the age of heroes, of Drake and Raleigh, Spenser and Shakspeare ; but oh, that you could hear this madrigal ! If you nmst have " four parts," then there they are. Deep-mouthed bass, rolling along the ground ;
22
FOX-HUNTING
rich joyful tenor : wild wistful alto ; and leaping up here and there above the throng of sounds, delicate treble shrieks and trills of trembling joy. I know not whether you can fit it into your laws of music, any more than you can the song of that Ariel sprite who dwells in the Eolian harp, or the roar of the waves on the rock, or
" Myriads of rivulets hurrying through the lawn. And murmur of innumerable bees."
But music it is. A madrigal ? Rather a whole opera of Der Freischiitz — daemonic element and all — to judge by those red lips, fierce eyes, wild hungry voices ; and such as should make Reinecke, had he strong aesthetic sympathies, well content to be hunted from his cradle to his grave, that such sweet sounds might by him enrich the air. Heroes of old were glad to die if but some " vates sacer " would sing their fame in worthy strains : and shalt not thou too be glad, Reinecke ? Content thyself with thy fate. Music soothes care ; let it soothe thine, as thou runnest for thy life ; thou shalt have enough of it in the next hour. For as the Etruscans (says Athenasus) were so luxurious that they used to flog their slaves to the sound of the flute, so shall luxurious Chanter and Challenger, Sweet-lips and Melody, eat thee to the sound of rich organ- pipes, that so thou mayest,
"Like that old fabled swan, in music die."
' And now appear, dim at first and distant, but brightening and nearing fast, many a right good fellow and many a right good horse. I know three out of four of them, their private histories, the private histories of their horses ; and could tell you many a good story of them : but shall not, being an English gentleman, and not an American litterateur. They are not very clever, or very learned, or very anything, except gallant men : but they are good enough company for me, or any one ; and each has his own specialitc, for which I like him. That huntsman I have known for fifteen years, and sat many
23
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
an hour beside his fatlier's deathbed, I am godfather to that whip's child. I have seen the servants of the hunt, as I have seen the hounds, grow up round me for two generations, and I look on them as old friends, and like to look into their brave, honest, weather-beaten faces. That red coat there, I knew him when he was a school-boy ; and now he is a captain in the Guards, and won his Victoria Cross at Inkcrman : that bi'ight green coat is the best farmer, as well as the hardest rider, for many a mile round ; one who plays, as he works, with all his might, and might have made a beau sahreur and colonel of dragoons. So might that black coat, who now brews good beer, and stands up for the poor at the Board of Guardians, and rides, like the green coat, as well as he works. That other black coat is a county banker : but he knows more of the fox than the fox knows of himself, and where the hounds are, there will he be this day. That red coat has hunted kangaroo in Australia ; that one has — but what matter to you who each man is ? Enough that each can tell me a good story, welcome me cheerfully, and give me out here, in the wild forest, the wholesome feeling of being at home among friends.
' And am I going with them ?
' Certainly. He who falls in with hounds running, and follows them not as far as he can (business permitting, of course, in a business country) is either more or less than man. So I who am neither more nor less, but simply a man like my neighbours, turn my horse's head to go.
' There is music again, if you will listen, in the soft tread of those hundred horse-hoofs upon the spungy vegetable soil. They are trotting now in " common time." You may hear the whole Croats' March (the finest trotting march in the world) played by those iron heels ; the time, as it does in the Croats' March, breaking now and then, plunging, jingling, struggling through heavy ground, bursting for a moment into a jubilant canter, as it reaches a sound spot. . . .
' But that time does not last long. The hounds feather a moment round Malepartus, puzzled by the windings of Rei-
24
FOX-HUNTING
necke's footsteps. Look at Virginal, five yards ahead of the rest, as her stern flourishes, and her pace quickens. Hark to Virginal ! as after one whimper, she bursts out full-mouthed, and the rest dash up and away in chorus, madder than ever, and we after them up the ride. Listen to the hoof-tune now. The common time is changed to triple ; and the heavy steady thud — thud — thud — tells one even blindfold that we are going. ...
' Going, and " going to go." For a mile of ride have I galloped tangled among men and horses, and cheered by occasional glimpses of the white-spotted backs in front ; and every minute the pace quickens. Now the hounds swing off the ride, and through the fir trees ; and now it shall be seen who can ride the winter-garden.
' I make no comparisons. I feel due respect for " the counties." I have tasted of old, though sparingly, the joys of grass ; but this I do say, as said the gentlemen of the New Forest fifty years ago, in the days of its glory, when the forest and the court were one, that a man may be able to ride in Leicestershire, and yet not able to ride in the forest. It is one thing to race over grass, light or heavy, seeing a mile ahead of you, and coming up to a fence which, however huge, is honest, and another to ride where we are going now.
' If you will pay money enough for your horses ; if you will keep them in racing condition ; and having done so simply stick on (being of course a valiant man and true), then you can ride grass, and
" Drink delight of battle with your peers,"
or those of the realm in Leicestershire, Rutland, or Northamp- ton. But here more is wanted, and yet not so much. Not so much, because the pace is seldom as great ; but more, because you are in continual petty danger, requiring continued thought, promptitude, experience. There it is the best horse who wins ; but here it is the shrewdest man. Therefore, let him who is fearful and faint-hearted keep to the rides ; and D 25
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
not only he but he who has a hot horse ; he who has no hand ; he who has no heel, or a horse who knows not what heel means ; for this riding is more like Australian bush-coursing, or Bombay hog-hunting, than the pursuit of the wily animal over a civil- ized covmtry, as it appears in Leech's inimitable caricatures.
' Therefore, of the thirty horsemen, some twenty wisely keep the ride, and no shame to them. They can go well else- where ; they will go well (certainly they will leave me behind) when we reach the enclosures three miles off : but here they are wise in staying on terra firma.
' But there are those who face terram infirmam. Off turns our Master, riding, as usual, as if he did not know he was riding, and thereby showing how well he rides.
' Off turns the huntsman ; the brave green coat on the mouse mare ; the brave black coat on the black mare. Mark those two last, if you do not know the country, for where the hounds are there will they be to the last. Off turns a tall Irish baronet ; the red coat who has ridden in Australia ; an old gentleman who has just informed me that he was born close to Billesden-Coplow, and looks as if he could ride anywhere, even to the volcanoes of the moon, which must be a rough country, to look at it through a telescope. Off turns a gallant young Borderer, who has seen bogs and wolds ere now, but at present grows mustachios in a militia regiment at Aldershot : a noble youth to look at. May he prosper this day and all days, and beget brave children to hunt with Lord Elcho when he is dead and gone. And off turn poor humble I, on the old screwed mare. I know I shall be left behind, ridden past, possibly ridden over, laughed to scorn by swells on hundred- and-fifty-guinea horses ; but I know the winter-garden, and I want a gallop. Half an hour will do for me ; but it must be a half hour of mad, thoughtless, animal life, and then if I can go no further, I will walk the mare home contentedly, and do my duty in that state of life to which Providence has been pleased to call me. ...
' . . . Racing indeed ; for as Reinecke gallops up the
26
FOX-HUNTING
narrow heather- fringed pathway, he brushes off his scent upon the twigs at every stride, and the hounds race after him, showing no head indeed, and keeping, for convenience, in one long Une upon the track, but going, head up, sterns down, at a pace which no horse can follow. — ^I only hope they may not overrun the scent.
' They have overrun it ; halt, and put their heads down a moment. But with one swift cast in full gallop they have hit it off again, fifty yards away in the heather, long ere we are up to them ; for those hounds can hunt a fox because they are not hunted themselves, and so have learnt to trust themselves ; as boys should learn at school, even at the risk of a mistake or two. Now they are showing head indeed, down a half cleared valley, and over a few ineffectual turnips, withering in the peat, a patch of growing civilization in the heart of the wilderness ; and then over the brook — woe 's me ! and we must follow — if we can.
' Down we come to it, over a broad sheet of burnt ground, where a week ago the young firs were blazing, crackling, spit- ting turpentine for a mile on end. Now it lies all black and ghastly, with hard charred stumps, like ugly teeth, or caltrops of old, set to lame charging knights.
' Over a stiff furze-grown bank, which one has to jump on and off — if one can ; and over the turnip patch, breathless.
' Now we are at the brook, dyke, lode, drain, or whatever you call it. Much as I value agricultural improvements, I wish its making had been postponed for at least this one year.
' Shall we race at it, as at Rosy or Wissendine, and so over in one long stride ? Would that we could ! But racing at it is impossible ; for we stagger up to it almost knee-deep of newly-cut yellow clay, with a foul runnel at the bottom. The brave green coat finds a practicable place, our Master another ; and both jump, not over, but in ; and then out again, not by a leap, but by clawings as of a gigantic cat. The second whip goes in before me, and somehow vanishes head- long. I see the water shoot up from under his shoulders full
27
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
ten feet high, and his horse sitting disconsolate on his tail at the bottom, like a great dog. However they are up again and out, painted of a fair raw-ochre hue ; and I have to follow in fear and trembling, expecting to be painted in like wise.
' Well, I am in and out again, I don't know how : but this I know, that I am in a great bog. Natural bogs, red, brown or green, I know from childhood, and never was taken in by one in my life ; but this has taken me in, in all senses. Why do people pare and trim bogs before draining them ? — thus destroying the light coat of tenacious stuff on the top, which Nature put there on purpose to help poor horsemen over, and the blanket of red bog-moss, which is meant as a fair warning to all who know the winter-garden.
' However I am no worse off than my neighbours. Here we are, ten valiant men, all bogged together ; and who knows how deep the peat may be ?
' I jump off and lead, considering that a horse plus a man weighs more than a horse alone ; so do one or two more. The rest plunge bravely on, whether because of their hurry, or like Child Waters in the ballad, " for fyling of their feet."
' However " all things do end," as Carlyle pithily remarks somewhere in his French Revolution ; and so does this bog. I wish this gallop would end too. How long have we been going ? There is no time to take out a watch ; but I fancy the mare flags : I am sure my back aches with standing in my stirrups. I become desponding. I am sure I shall never see this fox killed ; sure I shall not keep up five minutes longer ; sure I shall have a fall soon ; sure I shall ruin the mare's fetlocks in the ruts. I am bored. I wish it was all over, and I safe at home in bed. Then why do I not stop ? I cannot tell. That thud, thud, thud, through moss and mire has become an element of my being, a temporary necessity, and go I must. I do not ride the mare ; the Wild Huntsman, invisible to me, rides her ; and I, like Burger's Lenore, am carried on in spite of myself, " tramp, tramp, along the land, splash, splash, along the sea."
28
FOX-HUNTING
' By which I do not at all mean that the mare has run away with me. On the contrary, I am afraid that I have been shaking her up during the last five minutes more than once. But the spirit of Odin, " the mover," " the goer " (for that is his etymology) whom German sages connect much with the Wild Huntsman, has got hold of my midriff and marrow, and go I must, for " The Goer " has taken me. . . .
' . . . The hounds, moreover, have obligingly waited for us two fields on. For the cold wet pastures we are entering do not carry the scent as the heather did, in which Reinecke, as he galloped, brushed off his perspiration against every twig : and the hounds are now flemishing up and down by the side of the brown, alder-fringed brook which parts the counties. I can hear the flap and snort of the dogs' nostrils as they canter round me ; and I like it. It is exciting ; but why — who can tell ?
' What beautiful creatures they are too ! Next to a Greek statue (I mean a real old Greek one ; for I am a thoroughly anti-prei*aphaelite benighted pagan heathen in taste, and intend some day to get up a Cinque-Cento Club, for the total abolition of Gothic art) — next to a Greek statue, I say, I know few such combinations of grace and strength, as in a fine fox- hound. It is the beauty of the Theseus — light and yet massive ; and light not in spite of its masses, but on account of the perfect disposition of them. I do not care for grace in man, woman, or animal, which is obtained (as in the old German painters) at the expense of honest flesh and blood. . , .'
29
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
ODE TO THE NORTH-EAST WIND
Welcome, wild North-easter ! Shame it is to see Odes to every zephyr ; Ne'er a verse to thee. Welcome, black North-easter ! O'er the German foam ; O'er the Danish moorlands, From thy frozen home. Tired we are of summer, Tired of gaudy glare. Showers soft and steaming. Hot and breathless air. Tired of listless dreaming. Through the lazy day : Jovial wind of winter Turns us out to play ! Sweep the golden reed-beds ; Crisp the lazy dyke ; Hunger into madness Every plunging pike. Fill the lake with wild-fowl; Fill the marsh with snipe; While on dreary moorlands Lonely curlews pipe. Though the black tir-forest Thunder harsh and dry, Shattering down the snow-flakes Off' the curdled sky. Hark ! the brave North-easter ! Breast-higii lies the scent. On by holt antl headland, Over heath and bent. Chime, ye dappled darlings, Through the sleet and snow. Who can over-ride you .''
Let the horses go ! Chime, ye dappled darlings, Down the roaring blast ; Vou shall see a fox die Ere an hour be past. Go ! and rest to-morrow. Hunting in your dreams, AVhile our skates are ringing O'er tiie frozen streams. Let the luscious South-wind Breathe in lovers' sighs, While the lazy gallants Bask in ladies' eyes. What does he but soften Heart alike and pen .' 'Tis the hard grey weather Breeds hard English men. What's the soft South-wester? 'Tis the ladies' breeze. Bringing home their true-loves Out of all the seas : But the black North-easter, Through the snowstorm hurled. Drives our English hearts of oak Seaward round the world. Come, as came our fathers, Heralded by thee. Conquering from the eastward, Lords by land and sea. Come, and strong within us Stir the Vikings" blood; Bracing brain and sinew ; Blow, thou wind of God !
Charles Kingslev, 1854.
30
STAG-HUNTING
TURBERVILE'S description of the approved methods of harbouring, rousing and hunting a stag in the sixteenth century would in the main apply as well to those in vogue on Exmoor, in the Ncav Forest and Lancashire at the present time, as they would to the sport in the days of the Normans, when chase, by the un- privileged, of the ' King's Great Game ' was an offence punish- able by death or mutilation. The most noteworthy change has been in the hounds. When Mr. Lucas, Master of the hunt since known as the Devon and Somerset,^ in 1825 sold his pack to go to France, the last of the old breed of staghounds left England. ' For courage, strength, speed and tongue, they were unrivalled : few horses could live with them in the open. Their rarest quality perhaps was their sagacity in hunting in the water. Every pebble, every overhanging bush or twig which the deer might have touched was quested . , . and the crash with which the scent, if detected, was acknowledged and announced made the whole country echo again.' Daniel says ' the Staghound is large and gallops with none of the neatness of the Foxhound ' : it would seem also to have been more temperate, as he observes that its only excellence (!) 'is the being more readily brought to stop when headed by the Hunts- man or his assistants, altho' in the midst of his keenest pursuit.' There is no better picture of stag-hmiting on Exmoor than that of Dr. C. P. Collyns :—
' . , . But we must move onward ; below us we gaze on the lovely vale of Porlock, a strip of richly cultivated land, beyond which the plantations of Selworthy rise green and high, hiding the cliffs against which the angry waters of the
' The name was not adopted until 1837.
31
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
Bristol Channel chafe and surge in vain. There, in the valley, you may see the garden and groutids of Holnicote, Sir Thomas Acland's lovely summer abode.' Below us lie Cloutsham farm, and the famed coverts of Horner. We descend the steep, cross the stream, and ascend again until we reach the knoll on which the farm-house stands. . . . But there is no time to be lost. The covert is large and deep, and the chances are that much time must elapse ere we see the tufters fairly settled on their stag, and the monarch of the woods driven from his stronghold.
' The harbourer approaches ; and around him is held a council. He is certain that the same stag that we found in the covert a week ago has again made that favourite haunt his resting-place. He fed in the turnips beyond the oak copse this morning, and, though there are many hinds and calves in the wood, by care and perseverance we are assured that he will be found and got away. The order is given to draft out the tufters, and Sam proceeds to perform the duty. Let us follow him. The hounds are shut up in a large barn, and we hear them baying, as if to chide the delay which takes place while preliminaries are being settled. Cautiously Sam opens the door. A rush of hounds is checked by the old fellow's voice and whip. " Get back, my darlin's ! " says Sam, as he checks the impetuous advance of the eager babblers, and singles out the staid and steady veterans, to whom the business of " tufting " is to be confided. Far back in the dim recesses of the hovel sits old " Shiner," looking as if he were ashamed to appear concerned, yet shudder- ing all over with excitement. " Shiner," says Sam ; '' Shiner, old man," and the noble hound springs from his place, clears the youngsters, and in a moment is rolling on the greensward, and giving utterance to his joy in notes loud, deep, and pro- longed. " Constant ! Constant ! " cries Sam, and the wary old bitch slips round the door-post as if by magic, and whence
' Holnicote, Sir T. D. Acland's residence, was destroyed by fire in August 1851. Jt is now (18(J2) in the course of rebuilding.
32
Grouse Driving
fiSi
\v,
\'
STAG-HUNTING
nobody can tell. " Rewin ! Rewin ! " cries the huntsman ; and, after a few coy wriggles and yells, pretty " Ruin " is emancipated, and displays her joy by knocking down a small boy, and defacing a spotless pair of leathers, the property of a gentleman who is very particular about his costume. " Trojan " next responds to the summons, and the tale of the tufters is complete. Sam shuts the door, leaves the pack under the care of the whip, mounts his hack, tries the effect of his voice to silence the hounds he leaves behind him, which, to testify their disappointment, lift up their voices and lament, but in vain ; and off we go to the edge of the covert, where, under a friendly oak-tree, we take up our position, while Sam and the harbourer proceed to their duties. . . .
' Hark, " Constant " speaks ! " Ruin " confirms it. The tufters open all together, and every eye strains to catch a view of the game. Here they come : not what we want, but it 's a pretty sight. A yeld hind in advance, a second hind which knoweth the cares of maternity, her calf beside her, canter up towards the tree where we stand — stop, sniff, and trot away, as if they thought we were dangerous and to be avoided. " Shiner " is close upon them, the rest of the tufters follo%\ang him. A little rating and a few cracks of the whip, and their heads are up ; they know that they are not on the " real animal," and as soon as Sam's horn summons them, back they go, and resume their labours. Again they open, and again we are on the alert. The cry increases — they run merrily, and we are high in hope.
' " Ware fox ! " says an M.F.H., the best sportsman in the West, as he views Charley slinking along towards the gap in the hedgerow. Then with his stentorian voice he calls out to Sam, " Your hounds are on a fox, Sam." Sam does not hear, but rides up within a hundred yards of us. " ^^^lat, Sir ? " " Your hounds aie on a fox, Sam," repeats the M.F.H. "Think not. Sir,' says Sam. ''''My hounds won't hunt fox ! " "I tell you they are on a fox, Sam — call them off," says the fox-hunter. Sam looks vicious, but he obeys,
E 33
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
saying in a voice which could be heard by the Master of Fox- hounds, but certainly not by the tufters, " Get away hounds, get away ; ain't you ashamed of hunting of a stinking little warmint, not half the size of yourselves ? Get away ! " Sam still maintains his creed that his tufters were not on the fox, and two minutes afterwards a yell announced that a different
sort of animal was afoot. Another tally : Tom W 's
voice, a guarantee that it is the right thing — for a good yeoman is the best and truest stag-hunter that ever cheered a hound. Every one is on the alert ; we ride forward, and presently, in the distance, view, not a stag, alas ! but a hind breaking towards the moor. " How is this, Tom ? You were wrong for once." " No, Sir, not I ; I '11 swear it was a stag, and a good one — but you see he has pushed up the hind and gone down, and we must have him up again." So the tufters are stopped again, and sent back on heel, and by and by that unmistakable " yell " which announces a view is heard, and this time the antlered monarch reveals himself to the whole of the assembled multitude. It is but for a moment ; again he seeks the depths of the covert, but the tufters rattle him along, and are so close that he has no time for playing tricks, and beyond all doubt must now face the open. We ride towards the spot where in all probability he will break, and as the voice of the hounds comes nearer and yet more near, you may almost hear the pulses of the throng of spectators standing by the gate of that large oat-stubble beat with excitement.
' Hark ! a rustle in the wood, then a pause. Then a rush, and then — in his full glory and majesty, on the bank separating the wood from the field, stands the noble animal ! Look at him — mark his full, thoughtful eye — his noble bearing. Look at his beamed frontlet — how he bears it — not a trace of fear about his gestvu-es — all dignified and noble, yet how full of thought and sagacity. He pauses for a minute, perfectly regardless of the hundreds at the gate who gaze upon him.
' You need not fear that he will be " blanched," that is headed, by the formidable array drawn up to inspect him.
34
STAG-HUNTING
He has too well considered his course of action to be deterred from making good his point. Quietly and attentively he listens to the tufters, as with unerring instinct they approach — " the cry is still they come." His noble head moves more quickly from side to side— the moment for action has arrived — the covert is no longer safe. He must seek safety in flight, and look to securer shades wherein to rest. So he gathers himself together to run his course.
' There ! you have seen a wild stag break covert, and stretch away over the open. Did you ever see a finer sight — did you mark well the beauty of his action as he bounded from the fence of the wood ? Did you not view with admiration his stately form as he gazed on the hunters drawn up at the gate — the momentary pause, ere he stalked a few strides, as if to show that he feared us not ? Was not the bounding trot into which he then broke the very " poetry of motion " ? And when at length he exchanged it for a long, easy, steady gallop, did you ever witness movement more elastic and graceful ?
' Now, my friends, draw your girths, lend your aid to stop the tufters, and make up your minds for a run. If you see that stag again this side of Brendon Barton (unless by chance we fall in with him, and he is " set up," brought to bay, that is, in Badgworthy Water) I am very much mistaken. The tufters are stopped, not without some difficulty. Sam and his coadjutors emerge from the covert, the pack leave their barn, and are taken carefully up to a spot where it is con- venient to lay on. A shejDherd who has viewed the deer on the open moor lifts his hat on a stick. We go to the signal — the hounds press forward and are unrestrained — they dash — fling their sterns — a whimper— a crash — they are off, and a hundred horsemen follow as best they may across the wild open waste.
' The pace is tremendous — the ground uneven and often deep — already a tail, and many a gallant steed sobbing. On — on still — till we come to the Badgworthy Water, a river, or large burn, running down by the covert bearing that name.
35
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
Now, Sam, show yourself worthy to bear the horn, for there are few things requiring nicer judgment and discretion than making a cast in water. On go the pack — they reach the stream, and check for a moment. Then half the hounds rush through it, Avhile many swim down stream, giving tongue as they go, and apparently hunting the deer down the water.
' Beware ! for this is a critical moment. If the stag has gone up stream the water will carry the scent downwards, and the hounds will go on and on for miles in a different direction from that in which the deer has gone. In this instance I will wager he has not gone far down stream, for from our vantage- ground, as we come over the crest of the hill, I saw the sheep feeding quietly in yonder coombe by the river side, not huddled as they would have been, if our quarry had passed near them— and, moreover, I descried a watchful heron which was fishing in a shallow pool, while his companion flapped heavily and securely down the water in quest of other feeding-grounds. If our deer had passed these shy birds, they would have been careering high above our heads in search of more quiet and undisturbed retreats. For such signs as these the huntsman must ever be on the look-out, if he desire to match his powers of reasoning and observation against the cunning and sagacity of a deer. . . .
' He has refreshed himself in a deep pool close to the spot where he took soil, and without staying long to enjoy the luxury of the bath, has risen, though not " fresh as the foam," again to stretch across the moor, and if possible, to seek safety among the herd on Scab Hill, whose numbers saved him only last week.
' Away ! away ! over the stone walls and across the forest. Fortunately not one deer is in the line to divert the attention of the hounds ; though far to the left are to be seen against the sky-line, the forms of some fifteen or twenty deer, whose watchful eyes and ears have seen sights and heard sounds which bode danger, and warn them to be on the alert. The Master goes gallantly to the fore on " Little Nell," though his
36
STAG-HUNTING
headdress, consisting of a bandana twisted about his brows, looks rather " out of order." He had a hat, but in the deep ground the other side of the last wall, he shook it off, and in the next stride Little Nell's forefoot planted it two feet deep in a bog. Onward stride the hounds, mute as mice, and the select few ride anxiously and carefully, hands well down and helping their horses as best they can, each man wishing in his heart of hearts that there may be a friendly check ere long, except perhaps old !Mr. Snow, of Oare, whose threescore years and ten have not tamed the warmth of his blood or his ardour in the chase, and who now is in the very height of his happiness, for below him he sees his own farms and the roof of his own homestead, and under him " Norah Creina " strides along in her lashing, easy gallop, with the confidence which an intimate knowledge of every sod beneath her feet inspires and creates. The ground is open. A little on a decUne and far away, close, close to the wall of the Scab Hill enclosure, I see something moving along " with hobbling gait and high " which I cannot doubt is our quarry. Unless the herd shelter him, " this day the stag shall die." Forward ! forward ! and again the hounds lash and stride over the long sedges, the faintest whimper possible from time to time announcing that they are running on a burning scent, but have too much to do to be able to own it.
' We gain the wall of the enclosure over which the pack scrambles with difficulty while the remaining horsemen seek a friendly gate. A shepherd has \'iewed the stag, and to our joy reports that he has not joined the herd, but turned to the right to seek the covert, and take soil in the limpid waters of the impetuous Lynn. Down rush the hounds, and we reach the ford in time to see the body of the pack struggUng in the foaming waters of the torrent, while the leading hounds are carrying on the scent up the opposite steep. Onward we urge our sobbing steeds, though some of the few who still keep their place look as though they had had enough . . . and on Countisbury Common catch the fresh and welcome breezes of the Channel,
37
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
and slacken our speed as the pack turn unmistakably towards the sea where we know our gallant stag will stop to refresh himself. Nor are we mistaken, for as we turn into one of the steep paths of Glenthorne overhanging the Channel we see below us our quarry dripping from his recent bath, standing proudly on a rock surrounded by the flowing tide, and watch- ing his pursuers with anxious eyes. The hounds bay him from the land : one adventurer from the pack takes the water and already is at the base of the cliff on which the deer stands. Poor victim ! Scarce has he lifted himself from the waves when he is dashed back again by an unerring blow struck quick as lightning by the forefoot of the deer, and floats a corpse in the waters from which a moment ago he emerged.
' Meantime the news of the chase has brought together the rustics who are working near the spot. Their endeavours to dislodge the stag from his stronghold by shouts and stones are successful and, dashing through the water, he reaches the cliffs, gains a craggy path leading along them, and stretches away above Glenthorne House towards Yeanworth. But it is evident his race is run. The heavy gallop, the faltering stride and the lowered head, proclaim that his strength is failing. The check has increased his stiffness, though it has enabled him partially to regain his wind. His pursuers are not to be baffled, and their speed now exceeds his. He is unable again to face the open, runs feebly and painfully along the beaten paths, and turning through the woods towards the sea, he reaches the edge of the cliff, just above the boathouse and beach of Glen- thorne. His foes are close behind. He gives one wild and hurried look of fear, and dares the desperate leap. It is done. He has jumped from a height of at least thirty feet on to the shore, and in the next moment is floating in the salt sea waves. Fortunately, one or two sportsmen on the beach keep back the eager hounds, or some of the best of the pack would in all probability have been sacrificed, or at least maimed, in the attempt to follow their quarry in his deed of daring. A few minutes suffice to man a boat, and put a rope round the horns
38
STAG-HUNTING
of the deer. The victim is dragged in triumph to the beach, the knife is at his throat, and amid the baying of the pack, and the loud whoo' whoops of the crowd, the noble and gallant animal yields up his life.'
The generally accepted idea that carted-deer hunting is an invention of degenerate modernity is mistaken. The Royal Buckhounds enlarged deer from a cart at the beginning of George ii.'s reign. There are references in the Accounts of the Great Wardrobe to the ' deer van ' or ' deer waggon ' as far back as 1630, but there is nothing to show that this vehicle was used for conveying the deer to the meet. It may have been so used : but its main purpose was to convey deer which had been caught in other royal forests to the park at Windsor. The earliest mention of carted deer refers to Saturday, 14th September 1728, when ' an elk ' (presumably a wapiti) was uncarted at Windsor and gave a brilliant run : ' and from this time forward carted deer were frequently used by the royal pack. Hounslow Heath, Sunbury and Richmond were often the scenes of meets to hunt a carted deer during the years ensuing, and there is at least one mention of the deer being enlarged at Epsom. In those days the deer cart, or ' waggon ' as it was then called, was only brought into use when occasion required. Until the end of the eighteenth century the system varied : a deer was either cut out from a herd in the Park, was turned out from Swinley paddocks and hunted therefrom, or it was carted at Swinley and conveyed ' to such place and at such time as may have been previously appointed.'
Some very long runs have been given by deer. On 26th January 1899, the Ripley and Knaphill got on the line of an outlying hind near Lord Pirbright's house and ran her for 5 hours 40 minutes till whipped off at dark near Woking : a thirty-miles point, and much more as hounds ran. During February of the present year the Mid Kent took an outlier after a thirty-mile run, and the Essex a few days later enlarged a deer which gave a run of the same length. On 20th September
' History of the Royal Buckhounds, by J. P. Hore.
39
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
1880 the Devon and Somerset lost their stag after a thirty-mile run : he beat them, as many a stag has done, before and since, by putting out to sea, whence he was rescued by fishermen.
Deer make extraordinarily big jumps on occasion. Lord Ribblesdale says that the deer Runaway earned his name by jumping the oak palings of Swinley paddocks, 8 feet high : he had been startled by the crack of a whip. A fallow buck which, having escaped from Chippenham Park, was run by harriers, made two wonderful leaps to regain its old quarters : the first 27 feet over a rail and bank into a road, the next over the park wall which, with the bank on which it stood, was 9 feet in height : the two consecutive leaps covered 42 feet.
Fallow deer have given some long runs : but perhaps they are more remarkable for their craft than for straight running. Mr. George Race maintains that a fallow deer shows greater resource in eluding hounds than either fox or hare. ' I have seen them when beaten jump into a brook and submerge them- selves till only their nose remained above water. They will spring sideways from their tracks and crouch in covert while hounds over-run the scent. I have seen them drop down in a wood of a year's growth in a large bunch of grass and briars, hiding cleverly where you would think it impossible for so large an animal to find concealment.'
Cervine methods, in a word, have not changed during the centuries : ' and bicause they should have no sent of him nor vent him he wil trusse all his iiii feete under his belly and will blow^ and breath upon ye grounde in some moyst place in such sorte yt I have scene the houndes passe by such an Harte within a yeard of him and never vent him ... if he have taken the soyle in such sort, that of all his body you shal see nothing but his nose : and I have seen divers lye so untyll the houndes have beene upon them before they would ryse ' [The Booke of Hunting, 1576).
40
Grouse over Dogs
r'*
; V
■'--r^f-'
<'W^-
STAG-HUNTING
THE LORD OF THE VALLEY
A STAG-HUXTEIt's SOXG
Hunters are fretting, and hacks in a lather,
Sportsmen arriving from left and from right, Bridle-roads bringing them, see how they gather !
Dotting the meadows in scarlet and white. Foot-people staring, and horsemen preparing ;
Now there's a murmur — a stir — and a shout ! Fresh from his carriage, as bridegroom in marriage,
The Lord of the Valley leaps gallantly out.
Time, the Avenger, neglecting, or scorning,
Gazes about him in beauteous disdain, Lingers to toy with the whisper of morning,
Daintily, airily, paces the plain. Then in a second, his course having reckoned.
Line that all Leicestershire cannot surpass. Fleet as a swallow, when summer winds follow.
The Lord of the Valley skims over the grass.
Where shall we take him .'' Ah ! now for the tussle,
These are the beauties can stoop and can flv ; Down go their noses, together they bustle,
Dashing, and flinging, and scorning to cry ! Never stand dreaming, while vonder they're streaming;
If ever you meant it, man, mean it to-day ! Bold ones are riding and fast ones are striding.
The Lord of the Valley is Forward ! Away !
Hard on his track, o'er the open and facing.
The cream of the country, the pick of the chase, Mute as a dream, his pursuers are racing,
Silence, you know, 's the criterion of pace I Swarming and driving, while man and horse striving
By cramming and hugging, scarce live with them still ; The fastest are failing, the truest are tailing.
The Lord of the \'alley is over the hill ! 41
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
Yonder a steed is rolled up with his master ;
Here, in a double, another lies cast ; Thicker and faster comes grief and disaster.
All but the good ones are weeded at last. Hunters so limber, at water and timber,
Now on the causeway are fain to be led ; Beat, but still going, a countryman sowing
Has sighted the Lord of the Valley ahead.
There in the bottom, see, sluggish and idle,
Steals the dark stream where the willow-tree grows ! Harden vour heart, and catch hold of your bridle !
Steady him — rouse him — and over he goes ! Look ! in a minute a dozen are in it !
But Forward ! Hark Forward ! for draggled and blown, A check though desiring, with courage untiring
The Lord of the Valley is holding his own.
Onward we struggle in sorrow and labour.
Lurching and lobbing, and 'bellows to mend'; Each, while he smiles at the plight of his neighbour.
Only is anxious to get to the end. Horses are flagging, hounds drooping and lagging.
Yet gathering down yonder, where, press as they may. Mobbed, driven, and haunted, but game and undaunted,
The Lord of the Valley stands proudly at bay !
Then here 's to the Baron, ^ and all his supporters —
The thrusters — the skirters — the whole of the tale ; And here's to the fairest of all hunting quarters.
The widest of pastures — three cheers for the Yale ; ^ For the lovely she-rider, the rogue, who beside her,
Finds breath in a gallop his suit to advance ; The hounds, for our pleasure, that time us the measure.
The Lord of the Valley, that leads us the dance !
G. J. Whyte Melvillk, Baily^s Magazine, Feb. 1868.
' Rothschild. ^ of Aylesbury.
42
HARE-HUNTING
THE old system of hare-hunting with slow hounds, which were frequently followed on foot, was going out of fashion at the end of the eighteenth century. Sport with the Southern hound ' or such heavy dogs as Sussex Gentlemen use on the weald,' says William Blaine in 1781, appealed to him ' that delights in a long chace of six hours, often more, and to be with the dogs all the time.' The delights of such prolonged hunts, however, had begun to pall even on the most enthusiastic ; and really, unless the music for which Southern hounds were so famous might be regarded as the principal feature of the business, we cannot feel surprise. These hounds had splendid noses, but their appreciation of scent had drawbacks. On occasion, overcome by the delights that were in their nostrils, the whole cry would sit down on the line and, heeding naught else, upraise their voices in chorus of ecstasy. This exhibition of music and emotion too frequently resulted in the loss of the hare ; which, remarks Blaine tem- perately, ' is by some thought necessary to complete the sport.'
Slow and phlegmatic, ' these grave sort of dogs ' were peculiarly amenable to discipline and were usually ' hunted under the pole,' as the old term had it. The huntsman carried a light leaping-pole with which to vault fences and brooks, and he had the pack under such command that he could stop them at pleasure by throwing down the pole before the pack. Sir Roger de Coverley's ' Stop hounds,' described by Budgell in the Spectator,^ were manifestly of the Southern breed.
' 1:2th July 1711. Eustace Budfrell, cousin of Addison, was a frequent contributor. We need not doubt that lie describes such a liunt as any country gentleman enjoyed in Queen Anne's time.
43
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
' Sir Roger being at present too old for fox-hunting, to keep himself in action, has disposed of his beagles and got a pack of stop-hounds. What these want in speed, he endeavours to make amends for by the deepness of their mouths and the variety of their notes, which are suited in such manner to each other, that the whole cry makes up a complete concert. He is so nice in this particular, that a gentleman having made him a present of a very fine hound the other day, the knight returned it by the servant with a great many expressions of civility ; but desired him to tell his master, that the dog he had sent was indeed a most excellent bass, but that at present he only wanted a counter-tenor. Could I believe my friend had ever read Shakespeare, I should certainly conclude he had taken the hint from Theseus in the Midsummer Nighfs Dream : —
" My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, So flu'd, so sanded ; ^ and their heads are hung With cars that sweep away the morning dew, Crook-knee'd and dew-lap'd like Thessalian bulls, Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouths like bells, Each under each. A cry more tunable Was never halloo'd to, nor cheer'd with horn."
' Sir Roger is so keen at this sport, that he has been out almost every day since I came down ; and upon the chaplain's offering to lend me his easy pad, I was prevailed on yesterday morning to make one of the company. I Avas extremely pleased as we rid along, to observe the general benevolence of all the neighbourhood towards my friend. The farmers' sons thought themselves happy if they could open a gate for the good old knight as he passed by ; which he generally requited with a nod or a smile, and a kind inquiry after their fathers or uncles.
' After we had rid about a mile from home, we came upon a large heath, and the sportsmen began to beat.' They had
' Marked with small specks.
- 'Some huntsmen trail to a hare, others trouhle themselves not at all about trailing
44
HARE-HUNTING
done so for some time, when, as I was at a little distance from the rest of the company, I saw a hare pop from a small furze- brake almost under my horse's feet. I marked the way she took, which I endeavoured to make the company sensible of by extending my arm ; but to no purpose, till Sir Roger, who knows that none of my extraordinary motions are insignificant, rode up to me, and asked me, if puss was gone that way ? Upon my answering yes, he immediately called in the dogs, and put them upon the scent. As they were going off, I heard one of the country-fellows muttering to his companion, " that "twas a wonder they had not lost all their sport, for want of the silent gentleman's crying Stole away."
' This, with my aversion to leaping hedges, made me with- draw to a rising ground, from whence I could have the pleasure of the whole chase, without the fatigue of keeping in with the hounds. The hare immediately threw them above a mile behind her ; but I was pleased to find, that instead of running straight forwards, or in hunter's language, " flying the country," as I was afraid she might have done, she wheeled about, and described a sort of circle round the hill where I had taken my station, in such a manner as gave me a very distinct view of the sport. I could see her first pass by, and the dogs sometime afterwards unravelling the whole track she had made, and following her throvigh all her doubles. I was at the same time delighted in observing that deference which the rest of the pack paid to each particular hound, according to the character he had acquired amongst them. If they were at a fault, and an old hound of reputation opened but once, he was immediately followed by the whole cry ; while a raw dog, or one who was a noted liar, might have yelped his heart out, without being taken notice of.
' The hare now, after having squatted two or three times,
to her, but proceed with the company to threshing the liedges for a wide compass, being so sparing of their pains as often to beat over as beat a hare up. P"or my part I think trailing fairly and starting the nicest part of the whole pastime, provided wind and weather permit' (William Blaine).
45
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
and been put up again as often, came still nearer to the place where she was at first started. The dogs pursued her, and these were followed by the jolly knight, who rode upon a white gelding, encompassed by his tenants and servants, and cheer- ing his hounds with all the gaiety of five and twenty.
' One of the sportsmen rode up to me, and told me, that he was sure the chase was almost at an end, because the old dogs, which had hitherto lain behind, now headed the pack. The fellow was in the right. Our hare took a large field just under us, followed by the full cry In View. I must confess the brightness of the weather, the cheerfulness of everything around me, the chiding of the hounds, which was returned upon us in a double echo from two neighbouring hills, with the hallooing of the sportsmen, and the sounding of the horn, lifted my spirits into a most lively pleasure, which I freely indulged because I was sure it was innocent. If I was under any concern, it was on the account of the poor hare, that was now quite spent, and almost within the reach of her enemies ; when the huntsman getting forward threw down his pole before the dogs. They were now within eight yards of that game which they had been pursuing for almost as many hours ; yet on the signal before-mentioned they all made a sudden stand, and though they continued opening as much as before, durst not once attempt to pass beyond the pole. At the same time Sir Roger rode forward, and alighting took up the hare in his arms ; which he soon after delivered up to one of his servants with an order, if she could be kept alive, to let her go in his great orchard ; where it seems he has several of these prisoners of war, who live together in a very comfortable captivity. I was highly pleased to see the discipline of the pack, and the good-nature of the knight, who could not find in his heart to murder a creature that had given him so much diversion.'
The ' beagles ' of which Sir Roger had disposed would be the hounds known then and later as ' Northern Beagles,' whose original home appears to have been Lancashire. They
46
HARE-HUNTING
were used for fox-hunting and, as the old slow system of hare- hunting lost vogue, for that sport also.
Such disciphne as Budgell admired can be matched among foxhounds. It is recorded of Mr. Meynell that one day, in the ]\Iarket Harborough country, he was drawing a thin gorse covert, and the fox was in danger of being chopped. He called to Jack Raven to take the hounds away, and at one of his usual rates every hound stopped and was taken to the hedge side. Meynell then called three steady hounds by name and threw them into the covert. The fox was so loth to break that the three hunted him for about ten minutes in the hearing of the whole pack ; but so perfect was the discipline, they lay quietlv about Raven's horse until the fox went away. Then the Master gave ' his most energetic thrilling halloo,' and every hound flew to him. An instance of discipline equally striking is cited on the authority of Sir Arthur Halkett in Lord Ribbles- dale's book. The Queen's Hounds. And let us not forget the vast difference of temperament between Sir Roger de Coverley's ' Stop hounds ' and the foxhound.
It has been remarked by a modern writer that if Sir Roger's rescue of the hare exemplified the usual practice, those Southern hounds must have been above such material considerations as blood. There is much reason to think that the chase was far more than the quarry to the Southern hound : which suggests the reflection that fox-flesh is an acquired taste, and one that all hounds have not yet acquired. Welsh hounds do not always break up their fox, unless urged on to do it or en- couraged by English companions : the late Sir Richard Green Price told me he had ' often known them leave their dead fox if they kill him by themselves.' The foxhounds of the fells also do not break up their quarry. Hounds would not eat fox-flesh in Turbervile's day (1575) ; but when Nicholas Cox wrote in 1685 he said, ' Many hounds will eat the fox with eagerness.' E\ddently they had learned to do it during the hundred years preceding.
It is permissible to suspect the unqualified charity of the
47
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
motives which actuated Sir Roger in ordering that hare to be turned out in the orchard. Hares are not the most desirable live stock to maintain among fruit trees ; it is likely that in Queen Anne's time, as at the end of the century, the practice of hunting ' basket ' or ' trap ' hares may have been in vogue. No more scruple was held about hunting basket hares than bag foxes. Beckford, you remember, kept a paled warren with brick menses, and trapped a hare whenever he happened to want one for hunting or coursing.
To write of hare-hunting and omit at least a passage from The Chace would savour of heresy : —
' ... As captive boys, CowM by the ruling rod, and haughty frowns Of pedagogues severe, from their hard tasks If once dismissed, no limits can contain, The tumult rais'd within their little breasts. But give a loose to all their frolic play : So from their kennel rush the joyous pack ; A tliousand wanton gaieties express Their inward ecstasy, their pleasing sport Once more indulg''d, and liberty restored. The rising sun that o'er th' liorizon peeps, As many colours from their glossy skins Beaming reflects, as paint the various bow When April showVs descend. Delightful scene ! Where all around is gay, men, horses, dogs. And in each smiling countenance appears Fresh-blooming liealth, and universal joy. Huntsman, lead on ! behind the clustVing pack Submiss attend, hear with respect thy whip Loud-clanging, and tliy harsher voice obey : Spare not the straggling cur that wildly roves, But let thy brisk assistant on his back Imprint thy just resentments, let each lash Bite to the quick, till howling he return And whining creep amid the trembling crowd. Here on this veniant spot, where Nature kind With double blessings crowns the farmer's hopes ; 48
HARE-HUNTING
Where flowVs autumnal spring, and the rank mead
Affords the wandVing hares a rich repast ;
Throw off thy ready pack. See, where they spread
And range around, and dash the glitt'ring dew.
If some stanch hound, with his authentic voice,
Avow the recent trail, the jostling tribe
Attend his call, then with one mutual crv
The welcome news confirm, and echoinir hills
Repeat the pleasing tale. See how they thread
The brakes, and up yon furrow drive along !
But quick tiiey hack recoil, and wisely check
Their eager haste ; then o'er the fallowed ground
How leisurely they work, and many a pause
Th' harmonious concert breaks; till more assured
With joy redoubled the low valleys ring.
What artful labyrinths perplex their way !
Ah ! there she lies ; how close ! she pants, she doubts
If now she lives; she trembles as she sits.
With horror seiz\l. The withered grass that clings
Around her head, of the same russet hue.
Almost deceiv''d my sight, had not her eyes
With life full-beaming her vain wiles betray'd.
At distance draw thy pack, let all be hush'd.
No clamour loud, no frantic joy be heard.
Lest the wild hound run gadding o'er the plain
Untractable, nor hear thy chiding voice.
Now gently put her off; see how direct
To her known mews she flies ! Here, huntsman, bring
(But without hurry) all thy jolly hounds,
And calmly lay them on. How low they stoop.
And seem to plough the ground ; then all at once
With greedy nostrils snuff the foaming steam
That glads their ffutt'ring hearts. As winds let loose
From the dark caverns of the blustVing god.
They burst away, and sweep the dewy lawn,
Hope gives them wings, while she's spurr'd on by fear.
The welkin rings, men, dogs, hills, rocks, and woods.
In the full concert join. Now, my brave youths,
Stripp'd for the chace, give all your souls to joy !
See how their coursers, than the mountain roe
G 49
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
More fleet, the verdant carpet skim, thick clouds
Snorting they breathe, their shining hoofs scarce print
The grass unbruis'd ; with emulation fir'd,
They strain to lead the field, top the barr'd gate,
O'er the deep ditcli exulting bound, and brush
The thorny-twining hedge : the riders bend
Cer their arch'd necks ; with steady hands by turns
Indulge their speed, or moderate their rage.
Where are their sorrows, disappointments, wrongs,
Vexations, sickness, cares ? All, all are gone,
And with the panting winds lag far behind.
Huntsman ! her gait observe ; if in wide rings
She wheel iier mazy way, in the same round
Persisting still, she'll foil the beaten track,
But if she fly, and with the favVing wind
Urge her bold course, less intricate thy task :
Push on thy pack. Like some poor exil'd wretch.
The frighted chace leaves her late dear abodes,
O'er plains remote she stretches far away.
All ! never to return ! For greedy death
Hov'ring exults, secure to seize his prey.
Hark ! from yon covert, where those tow'ring oaks
Above the humble copse aspiring rise,
What glorious triumphs burst in ev'ry gale
Upon our ravish'd ears ! The hunters shout.
The clanging horns swell their sweet-winding notes.
The pack wide-op'ning load the trembling air
W^ith various melody ; from tree to tree
The propagated cry redoubling bounds.
And winged zephyrs waft the floating joy
Thro' all the regions near. Afflictive birch
No more the schoolboy dreads ; his prison broke.
Scamp' ring he flies, nor heeds his master's call ;
The weary traveller forgets his road.
And climbs the adjacent hill ; the ploughman leaves
Th' unfinished furrow ; nor his bleating flocks
Are now the shepherd's joy ; men, boys, and girls.
Desert th' unpeopled village: and wild crowds
Spread o'er the plain, by the sweet frenzy seized.
Look how she pants ! and o'er yon op'ning glade
50
HAKE-HUNTING
Slips glancing by ; while, at the further end The puzzling pack unravel, wile by wile, Maze within maze. The covert's utmost bound Slyly she skirts : behind them cautious creeps, And in that very track, so lately stain'd By all the steaming crowd, seems to pursue The foe she flies. . . .
Now the poor chace Begins to flag, to her last shifts reduced. From brake to brake she flies, and visits all Her well-known haunts, where once she rang'd secure, With love and plenty blest. See ! there she goes, She reels along, and by her gait betrays Her inward weakness. See, how black she looks ! The sweat that clogs th' obstructed pores, scarce leaves A languid scent. And now in open view See, see, she flies ! each eager hound exerts His utmost speed, and stretches evVy nerve, How quick she turns ! tiieir gaping jaws eludes. And yet a moment lives; till round enclosed By all the greedy pack, with infant screams She yields her breath, and there reluctant dies.'
Passages in Somerville's poem appear hardly in accordance with his avowed principles. His field, unless poetic Ucence set practical knowledge at naught, had to ride for all they were worth to live with the pack ; though granting the presence of thrusters, we need not imagine speed comparable to that of the modern hunter. Somerville himself could not have ridden very hard, as we are told that he vised to pull out his favourite hunter, Old Ball, three times a week : of this useful animal his owner has left record that he ' would not hold out two days together.' Old Ball was a ' real good English hunter standing about 15 hands high, with black legs, short back, high in the shoulders, large barrel, cropped ears, and a white blaze.'
The Royal Harriers, which had been re-established in 1730,' seem to have been the first pack of hounds to advertise meets. During the Regency they were kennelled at Brighton, then at
' The pack hiid been given up in James ii.'s reign.
51
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
the zenith of its fame as a winter resort, and met ' for the amusement of all who choose to join the hunt ' on Mondays near Portslade Windmill, on Wednesdays near Patcham, and on Fridays on the Race Hill. The field was not always well behaved : upon a day in October 1804 the huntsman was compelled to go home ' before the accustomed time ' by reason of the misconduct of men who persisted in riding before the hounds.
Five or six miles is accounted a good point for a hare when ' forced to make out endwaies,' as Turbervile so happily puts it. Mr. Fames, Master of the Cootley, has been good enough to tell me of a run which must be unique for length. It occurred in the time of his grandfather sixty or seventy years ago : finding near Chard, hounds ran their hare to Wellington Monument and killed her after a fifteen-mile point.
Mr. George Race, now in his seventieth year of Mastership (surely the ' record ' in the whole history of hunting), once saw a run of twelve miles. He writes : ' It took place on 28th December 1848. We found our hare in Litlington field, and she went straight to the bottom part of Morden Heath, where there was a wood sale going on. The jjeople turned her to the left, and she went over the Royston and Baldock road, up the hill into the open, nearly to the top of Royston town. Here she came down the hill, and was evidently going back to Litling- ton field, but there were so many foot-people, carriages and waggons passing, she would not cross the road, and turned up the hill again, and leaving Mr. Thurnall's gorse just on our right, went over the open to Seven Riders, where a waggon turned her to the right. She went up the hill to Reed village and straight across the fields to the Old North Road, up which she ran as hard as she could go to just below Backland, where a road-mender turned her to the left over the fields down to Capon's Wood. Here hounds raced into view and bowled her over in a rackway in the wood. The time was not taken, but it was a fine run. Mr. William Pope, Mr. Chas. Lindsell (Master of the Cambridgeshire for seventeen years), and myself
52
HARE-HUNTING
were the only people who really saw this run. The greater part of it was in the Puckeridge country.'
Mr. Race recalls another remarkable run, straight — and eight miles from point to point.
Mr. Baron D. Webster, for ten years master and owner of the Haldon, has kindly sent me some interesting notes : — ' I have, during my experience, seen less of the extraordinary cunning of the hare than might have been expected. Where our country is mostly moor or woodland, hares are scarce, and they run far more like foxes than they do in an enclosed district. . . .
' During my first season as Master of the Haldon we had a run which for pace and distance can very seldom have been surpassed. On jMonday, 14th February 1898, we met at Ashwell Cross : we did no good with our first hare. It was the second one that gave the run : we found her exactly at one o'clock on the ojDcn moor between Lidwell and Xewtake. She got up behind the hounds, so they did not see her, and they were laid on the line with as little noise as possible. Our hare made at once for Newtake, and hounds ran at a fair pace the whole length of this lonw narrow ororse brake and checked a
O CD t^
moment at the Ashwell end. Hittinw off the line again, thev ran well over the open part of Humber Moor and seemed to be making for the Pheasant covert about Lindridge House, but turning away from Lindridge they ran well down the green lane, and skirting Luton Moor, were brought to their noses on some plough till they came to the dreaded Luton Bottom. Crossing this deep " goyle " or dingle, hounds hesitated a little on the further side and gave such of the field who were inclined to negotiate it time to find the only possible crossing. Those who did not care to face the difficulties of the goyle saw no more of the hunt. The hare then took us into Rixtail Moor (she had been crossing a good deal of partly enclosed moorland) and hence she ran the road for a very long distance. I kept the now much reduced field well behind hounds, but had just begun to fear we had pressed them over the point where the
53
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
hare had left the road, when they turned to the right and once more we were racing on the rough moorland. It seemed certain that the hare was making for the depths of Luscombe Wood, an enormous covert, and the huntsman with one de- tachment of the field rode for that, while I with the remainder kept as near as possible to hounds, now running hard. A nasty fence caused us almost to lose hounds, such was the pace they were going, but I just caught sight of old black-and-tan Gambler doing his best to catch up the body of the pack outside the wood which hounds never entered.
" They have gone for Dawlish town," cried a labourer from a high bank as we swept past him ; and presently one of the field saw them "miles ahead," driving up the mound on which Dawlish reservoir is situated. Wire and locked gates in a country then (fourteen years ago) entirely new to us caused loss of time, but when we got up to and beyond the reservoir I saw to my relief the hounds at check not far below, in a large field of wheat. Just as I was going to take hold of them, the hunts- man— who had had a terribly rough journey from Luscombe Wood — arrived : he made a bold forward cast and hit off the line at a gate. From here hounds simply flew ; crossing Secmaton Trench, which bothered us all considerably, they raced to Langdon Lodge on the Dawlish and Starcross road, where they came to a decided check. Something was said about a holloa forward, but I heard nothing myself, and feeling sure the hare had thrown up close by, persevered in trying every hedgerow and bit of covert. It was in vain, and I had just given the word for home when a groom, riding bare-backed, galloped up and said he had seen the hare on the Warren, where the golf links are : his was the holloa that had been heard. After such a run as she had given I felt sure that if we did not have the hare, some one else would : so to the utter astonish- ment of the golfers and the crowd on the sea front of Exmouth just across the Exe, we galloped up to the links and hit off the line in a moment. The hare soon got up under my horse, and I never saw one so black ; she ran as strong as ever, though,
54
HARE-HUNTING
while the high sandhills and the frequent views hounds got, were all in her favour until we at last pressed her on to the open beach, when we felt sure of her. Hounds, however, had got their heads up, and feeling sure that the hare was dodging among the sandhills they came unwillingly and slowly to the holloa. Eventually she took the water close under my horse : I could have jumped off and caught her easily, but was unwilling to spoil such a run as this by an irregular kill. Nothing we could do availed to make hounds see her : the current was strong, and by the time I realised that they could not be got to follow her, she was out of reach. Boats came out from Exmouth, but were too late to pick her up, and she sank before our eyes. I was greatly annoyed with myself then for not having picked her up when I might have done so.
' From Ashwell to the far end of the Warren, where the hare went into the sea, is just over eight miles, but as hounds ran it was very much farther : to Langdon Lodge it was nine miles, allowing for the round by Lindridge and Luton, and as to that point the time was an hour and a quarter, it will be admitted that this was one of the finest runs on record.
' These exceptional runs,' Mr. Webster adds, ' happily result almost always in a kill.'
Concerning the mancEuvre usually first tried by a hunted hare, he gives a good example : — ' We were once hunting over Little Haldon, an extensive open moor that marches with Luton Moor, an enclosed area containing boggy brakes which form excellent covert. About 150 yards from the bank enclosing Luton Moor we ran through a small patch of gorse : and on coming to the bank hounds checked a moment, then turned and ran back to the gorse led by a reliable hound named Pleader. I was near enough to see Pleader's eye, and I knew he was right and was running for blood, so stopped the cry of war' heel and forbade the huntsman trying over the bank for a minute or two. I heard myself called uncompli- mentary names, but Pleader was right. He almost had the
55
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
hare in the gorse : she broke under his nose, raced away up hill, and thanks to the advantage this naturally gave, saved her scut.
' Hares will make leaps almost incredible from the open field into the hedge, and will do the same at a gate. They fly to gates to escape the exertion of getting over a fence wherein they know no certain meuse ; as soon as harriers become at all unsteady they will forsake the line and make for the first gate or rail forward — a very bad habit.
' The hare's peculiarity of turning up or down a fence after passing through it instead of going straight away makes running a fox, which does just the reverse, ruinous to harriers. If good harriers are not pressed by horsemen they will at once try up and down the fence : let but one horseman go over before the pack is again settled on the line, and he spoils everything. A steady field makes a steady pack.
' Here is a curious fact that may interest you : — There is in our country a certain estate with a very large demesne, and we are only allowed to hunt over an unenclosed portion of the property. The demesne, which is luckily quite on our boundary, is full of hares, but they are very seldom seen out of it. On three occasions I have known hares make straight for this demesne, all three having been found within a few yards of the same spot which is at a considerable distance from the place referred to and, moreover, on the further side of the river Teign. We killed all three, one, by the way, in the river itself, after runs as hard and straight as possible. But why should all these three bucks have been found on that one spot ? It may be conjectured that the gentlemen were tired of the ladies of their own district and came hither in search of variety : but against this must be set the fact that hares are by no means plentiful in the district about the place where the three were found.
' Hare-hunting, according to the Almanac, ends on 1st March, but for my own part I like to go on till Lady Day, 25th March, because, as in fox-hunting, the best sport of the season is obtained during February and March. And here I
56
HARE-HUNTING
may remark that when, after 1st February or thereabouts, you find two hares together, be sure and lay the pack on the line of the one that goes away first, for that is sure to be the buck. It is true that he may keep circling round to the doe, but on the other hand he is just as likely to fly to the district whence he came, and may then give a straight run with an exceptional point.'
There be those who maintain that the hare is every whit as resourceful as the fox. Was it not Beckford who attributed to her cunning the hare's legendary connection with witches ? A beaten hare will go to ground in drain or rabbit hole : in the Field of 15th February 1875 there is record of a ferret having bolted a rabbit from a burrow, which rabbit was quickly followed by a hare which appeared with the ferret clinging to her. Whether harriers had recently been in the neighbour- hood does not appear. Mr. Webster once had this same ex- perience. The Haldon got a hare away from a dense woodland known as Black Forest,' and after a fine gallop checked close to a house and buildings known as Gulliford. While trying to recover the line an astonished cry of ' A hare, a hare ' was heard. The hunted hare had gone to ground in a bank which was being at that moment ferreted by people without guns, and one of the party caught the hare as she bolted (a ferret will bolt a hare in a moment). 'Never,' says Mr. Webster, ' spare a hare that goes to ground ; she will do it again on the next opportunity, and the habit is very likely to be hereditary. He also remarks that anything in the shape of an open door offers peculiar attractions to the hunted hare. ' When hounds come to a decided check near buildings of any description, the huntsman should be most careful to try every open door. One may lose hares in all sorts of queer places, stables and outhouses and the like : it is also judicious to look behind anything like boxes or barrels or a pile of faggots. An old aunt of mine once saved a hare from the Eton Beagles by opening a door for her.'
' Tlie Hoodlauds in the Haldon country are seldom drawn by foxhounds as they are full of wild fallow deer.
H 57
OTTEE-HUNTING
THE modern otter is born under a more fortunate star than his ancestor of a century ago. The net is barred, the spear disused, ' tailing ' is discounten- anced : if his foes cannot kill him by fair means he has nothing to fear from means now deemed foul.
Otter-hunting is an old sport : but there is some evidence to show that, in parts of the country at least, the otter was regarded as vermin the compassing of whose death was the first consideration. This is quite comprehensible when we consider how important a source of food supply in old days was the fish pond or stew maintained by them who dwelt far from sea or river.
' My servant informs me,' wrote Sir Henry Savill, of Sothill, Yorks., to his ' cossin Plompton,' ' that in your country there is a man that kills otters very well : wherefore I have sent him to get him to me for a week. I assure you they do me exceeding much harm in divers places. My folks see them dailv, and I cannot kill them : my hounds be not used to them.' '
This was written on 8th November ; the letter is not fully dated, but it seems to be referable to somewhere about 154.0-1550. Sir Henry did not, it is evident, look upon the otters as affording opportunity of sport : the ' exceeding much harm ' to which he refers can only mean to the fish in river or stew ; and, regarding the otters as vermin, he simply wanted them killed down.
In the seventeenth century it would seem that hounds found the otter and the field killed him : says Nicolas Cox : —
' The Plutnpton Letters.
58
OTTER-HUNTING
' Remember in the Hunting of the Otter that you and your friends carry your otter spears to watch his vents : for that is the chief advantage and if you perceive where the otter SMrims under water, then strive to get to a stand before him where he would vent and then endeavour to strike liim with your spear : but if you miss, pursue him with the hounds which, if they be good otter hounds and perfectly entered will come chauntering and trailing along by the Riverside and will beat every tree-root, every osier bed and tuft of Bull rushes : nay, sometimes they will take the water and beat it like a spaniel. And by these means the Otter can hardly escape you.'
Thus if you got home with your spear-thrust, there was nothing for the hounds to do : their task had been finished when they found the quarry. For them to hunt in the stream itself would seem to have been the exception.
Cox, of course, falls foul of the otter for his wasteful habits : ' For greediness he takes more than he knows what to do with.' The otter's shortcomings as a housekeeper have always been cast up against him, unfairly as it seems to me. \\Tiat do we expect of him ? Do we require of the hungrv otter that he, reckoning the needs of the hour to a mouthful, shall suffer to pass an eight-pound grilse because a two-pound trout would serve his turn ? Is he blameworthy for that he, wisely preferring fresh fish, omits to seek out what the carrion crow and his like may have left him of the meal of vesterday ?
By the time Somerville wrote, otter-hunting had taken upon itself a form somewhat different ; if we read him aright hounds played a more prominent part, though the spear used, as we gather, either to thrust or throw javelin-wise, was always ready to help them. That portion of The Chace which describes an otter-hunt is less familiar than the description of hare-hunting, though no whit its inferior in vigour, spirit and directness. It has, however, the demerit of blood-thirstiness. Either the poet entertained for the otter none of the sense of justice and fair play he cherished as the meed of the hare, or
59
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
he had quahiis concerning the legitimacy, in a sporting sense, of the methods employed by the otter-hunter of his day. ' Give the otter a bad name and spear him,' seems to be the keynote of the lines : and he blackened the quarry's character by way of justifying the spear. Truly we had need be im- pressed with a sense of the otter's iniquity ere we could share the rejoicing when ' wriggling he hangs and grins and bites in vain.'
' This subtle spoiler of the beaver i^ind. Far off, perhaps, wiiere ancient alders shade The deep still pool, within some hollow trunk. Contrives his wicker couch ; whence he surveys His long purlieu, lord of the stream, and all The finny shoals his own. But you, brave youths, Dispute the felon^s claim ; try evVy root. And evVy reedy bank ; encourage all The busy-spreading pack, that fearless plunge Into the flood, and cross the rapid stream. Bid rocks, and caves, and each resounding shore. Proclaim your bold defiance ; loudly raise Each cheering voice, till distant hills repeat The triumphs of the vale. On tlie soft sand See there his seal impressed ! and on that bank Behold the glitfring spoils, half-eaten fish. Scales, tins and bones, the leavings of his feast. Ah ! on that yielding sag-bed, see, once more His seal I view. O'er yon dank, rushy marsh The sly goose-footed prowler bends his course. And seeks the distant shallows. Huntsman, bring Thy eager pack, and trail him to his couch. Hark ! the loud peal begins, the clam Vous joy, The gallant chiding, loads the trembling air. Ye Naiads fair, who o'er these floods preside. Raise up your dripping heads above the wave. And hear our melody. Th' harmonious notes Float with the stream ; and ev'ry winding creek And hollow rock, that o'er the dimpling flood Nods pendant ; still improve from shore to shore Our sweet reiterated joys. What shouts ! 60
OTTER-HUXTING
What clamour loud I What gay, heart-cheering sounds
Urge through the breathing brass their mazy way !
Not choirs of Tritons glad with sprightlier strains
The dancing billows, when proud Neptune rides
In triumph o''er the deep. How greedily
They snuff the fishy steam, tiiat to each blade
Rank-scenting clings ! See ! how the morning dews
They sweep, that from their feet besprinkling drop
Dispersed, and leave a track oblic[ue behind.
Now on firm land they range; then in the fiood
They plunge tumultuous ; or thro' reedy pools
Hustling they work their way : no holt escapes
Their curious search. ^Vith quick sensation now
The foaming vapour stings; flutter their hearts,
And joy redoubled bursts from ev'ry mouth,
In laden symphonies. Yon hollow trunk,
That, with its hoary head incurv'd, salutes
The passing wave, must be the tyrant's fort.
And dread abode. How these impatient climb,
While others at the root incessant bay :
They put him down. See, there he dives along !
Th' ascending bubbles mark his gloomy way.
Quick fix the nets, and cut off his retreat
Into the sheltering deeps. Ah, there he vents !
The pack plunge headlong, and protruded spears
Menace destruction ; while the troubled suree
Indignant foams, and all the scaly kind
Affrighted hide their heads. Wild tumult reigns,
And loud uproar. Ah, there once more he vents !
See, that bold hound has seized him ; down they sink,
Together lost : but soon shall he repent
His rash assault. See, there escap'd he flies,
Half-drown"d, and clambers up the slipp'ry bank
With ooze and blood distain"d. Of all the brutes,
Whether by nature form'd or by long use,
This artful diver best can bear the want
Of vital air. Unequal is the fight
Beneath the whelming element. Yet there
He lives not long ; but respiration needs
At proper intervals. Again he vents ;
61
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
Again the crowd attack. Tl)at spear has pierc'd
His neck ; the crimson waves confess the wound.
Fix'd is the bearded lance, unwelcome guest
Where'er he flies; with him it sinks beneath.
With him it mounts ; sure guide to ev'rv foe.
Inlv he CToans, nor can his tender wound
Bear the cold stream. So ! to von sedgy bank
He creeps disconsolate; his numerous foes
Surround him, hounds and men. PiercVl thro' and thro'
On pointed spears they lift him high in air;
Wriggling he hangs, and grins, and bites in vain :
Bid the loud horns, in gaily-warbling strains,
Proclaim the felon's fate; he dies, he dies.
Kejoice, ye scaly tribes, and leaping dance
Above the waves, in sign of liberty
Restored ; the cruel tyrant is no more.'
Otter-hunting had gone out of fashion in the earUer years of the nineteenth century. It ' was formerly considered excellent sport,' says Daniel by way of introducing his account of the method. He proceeds to say that it ' has still however its staunch admirers, who are aj^parently as zealous in this pursuit as in any other we read of. In 1796, near Bridgenorth, on the River Ware, four otters were killed ; one stood three, another four hours before the dogs and was scarcely a minute out of sight. The hearts, etc., were dressed and eaten by many respectable people who attended the hunt and allowed to be very delicious.' I wonder what that ' etc' covers.
On the other hand, there were those who held a very poor opinion of it. Mr. T. B. Johnson, who wrote the Hunting Directory in 1826, says : ' It is at present but little followed. Of all field amusements otter-hunting is perhaps the least interesting. Foxhounds, harriers, or indeed any kind of hounds, will pursue the otter : though the dog chiefly used for the purpose has been produced by a cross between the southern hound and the water spaniel. Those who have never witnessed otter-hunting, may form a tolerable notion of the business by imagining to the mind a superior duck-hunt.'
62
OTTEK-HUNTING
Ardent otter-hunters will hold this to be evidence in favour of duck-hunting, a sport now forgotten.
That there was ' brave hunting this water dog ' in Devon two hundred and fifty years ago, we have on Izaak Walton's authority. Devonshire may claim the honour of possessing the oldest pack of otter-hounds now in existence. Mr. Pode of Slade established in 1825 what is now the Dartmoor pack. The Culmstock was started in 1837 by Mr. W. P. Collier. There were otter-hounds in Cumberland as far back as 1830, when the Rev. Hylton Wyburgh took the mastership of the pack now known as the West Cumberland.
Otter-hvmters began to discard the spear eighty years ago : it had been laid aside by Mr. Bulteel and his followers in Devonshire in 1839, in obedience to the feeling that it was not sportsmanlike. By degrees other hunts adopted the same view : in some cases the followers of a pack renounced their spears and left these weapons to the Master and Huntsman, who reserved use of them until hounds held the otter, when he was killed to prevent unnecessary injury to the pack — for the otter's teeth are strong and his bite may disable.
Mr. Grantley Berkeley enjoyed some otter-hunting in the New Forest during the 'fifties and 'sixties : this is his account of a run which ended in a fair kill : —
' The next morning Mr. Radcliffe informed me that his man had tracked three otters, side by side, over some mud, going up stream in the direction of my draw of the day, assert- ing that no seal of the otter had been there impressed before. I thought this news too good : one otter would have done ; but my host declared he could trust to the truth of the report, and we sallied forth in joyful expectation. I was drawing a sort of back-water adjoining a cover, and, observing both hounds and terriers were busy, I gave the word " to look out, for we were about to find." I had sent on my groom, Thomas Newman, to a shallow some distance off to watch it, when, having hardly said that we were about to find, I heard the most extraordinary noise proceeding from my groom and his
63
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
vicinity that could be imagined. The cause of it I give in liis own words. He said " he heard me call out that we were about to find, and at the same moment Smike, followed at some distance by a single hound, came running down the side of the stream, evidently on a drag directly towards him." About fifty yards from where he stood, and about four or five paces from the edge of the water, in a swampy spot in the meadow, was a small mass of tangled reeds, briars and bushes, perhaps twenty yards in circumference, or not so much. Right into this little thicket Smike's drag took him, and, to my groom's amazement, out on the grass rolled three otters and Smike all fighting, Smike yelling with fury and pain at the treatment he met with, and the young or three-parts grown otter, whom he had fixed on, screaming in concert, to all of which Newman added his view-halloo and whoop. The row had not lasted a second when hand over hand raced up the old hound, and with a rush knocked Smike and the three otters into the water, but seizing and assisting to kill the one Smike maintained his hold on. Having worried the first otter, I took up the chase of the other two, finding them both, and changing from one to the other occasionally, but at last settling to the old bitch otter. Than the work she cvit out for us, I never saw anything more beautiful. About the water meadows there are several streams or rather one stream divided into several ; one of these, a very swift but shallow one, ran by the side of a bank, on which was a " plashed " and double-laid blackthorn hedge, and up this stream the otter took her course, with scarce water enough at times to hide her. When the water shoaled too much she crept into the hedge, in which alone the terriers could follow her, and then it was perfect to see the hounds splashing up the water as, gazing into the hedge, they en- deavoured to head and nick in upon the otter. When the hounds dashed on to the top of the blackthorns down the otter went again into the stream, and so on till other streams and deeper water were for a time regained. The chase with this old otter, hard at it, lasted an hour and three-quarters, in as
64
Pheasant Shooting:
Old Style
-«>-.. -^' lj»m7* *f r nv:^ - ' '^^^rr'
OTTER-HUNTING
hot and sunny a day in summer as needs be ; and when the pack fairly hunted her down, forced her out of the water, and caught and killed her in a thick hedge, I was nearly run to a stand-still.'
In the 'sixties the propriety of using the spear under any circumstances was challenged, with the result that it was dis- carded altogether. There are not now hunting many men who have seen a spear used. Few sports have gained so much in popularity as otter-hvmting during recent years. In 1892 there were fifteen packs in existence : there are now twenty- three ; and perhajas it is safe to assert that where ten followed otter-hounds twenty years ago, thirty follow now. There was a time, not so long gone, when an intending follower of otter- hounds, anxious to be correctly turned out, received in reply to his inquiry, ' Wliat is the uniform of your hunt ? ' the eloquent postcard ' Rags ' from the M.O.H. Nowadays each hunt has its distinctive uniform, neat and workmanlike.
65
PARTRIDGE SHOOTING
SHOOTING, as we understand it, dates from Queen Anne's time. In the year 1700 J. Sprint, of his practical knowledge, had given the world a very small book entitled the Experienced Fowler, from whose pages we obtain a lucid idea of the methods in his day. As Mr. Sprint and his contemporaries used a flint-lock gun, ' with a barrel of five foot and a half, cleverly made taper,' it perhaps goes without saying that a rest was necessary for its efficient use, and shooting birds on the wing was a business demanding some adjustment. Mr. Sprint was not wedded to a five-foot six-inch barrel : he readily accords permission to his readers to use a gun with one six feet long, if any might think it possible to obtain better results therewith. And it is evident that the more ambitious, or muscular, among the brethren were not quite satisfied with that : ' Six foot,' says ]Mr. Sprint, ' is a sufficient length for the barrel of any piece ; all above are unmanageable and tiresome.' One wonders how he would have regarded sportsmen who have an idea that a gun should fit the user, come well up to the shoulder, and who measure its weight in ounces.
With such ' pieces ' our seventeenth-century ancestors took the field in pairs in search of wild-fowl : and game being descried, he who was to take the flying shot planted his rest and levelled his gun ' three yards from the ground, a little inclining to the way you see their heads stand.' Your pre- parations completed, the other man fired at the birds sitting, and you loosed off ' as soon as ever he . . . has pulled his tricker and flashes in the pan, or at least if you are very near as soon as you hear the report of his piece.' A shoulder shot
66
PARTRIDGE SHOOTING
might be taken if you could meet the birds ' in the face the way they fly ' : in which case the sportsman took ' the under- most and shot slaunt-wise through them.'
A century before Mr. Sprint's time the law ^ had enacted that partridges, pheasants, grouse, and hares might not be killed with a gun at all. Discriminating legislators realised that marksman and matchlock made a combination too deadly where sitting game was the mark, and forbade shooting altogether, whether mth gun, crossbow, or other weapon.
The ' setting dog ' and hawk, the stalking horse or the setting dog and net formed the proper means of taking game, and these methods remained in favour long after men began to shoot flying. With hawking we do not here deal : as regards netting Nicolas Cox - gives instructions how to set about the business. First you had to ascertain where a covey might be found : as a preliminary the sportsman mastered the call of the bird : —
' Being perfect herein, either Mornings or Evenings (all other times being improper) go to their Haunts, and having conveyed yourself into some secret place where you may see and not be seen, listen a while if you can hear the Partridges call ; if you can answer them again in the Same Note, and as they change or double their Notes, so must you in like manner ; thus continue doing until they draw nearer and nearer unto you. Having them in your view, lay your self on your back, and lie as if you were dead without motion, by which means you may count their whole number.
' Having attained to the knowledge of discovering them where they lie, the next thing will be a ready way how to catch them.'
Cox held ' the Driving of Partridges ' more delightful than any other method. This involved the use of an engine made in form and fashion of a horse cut out of canvas and stuffed with straw or similar material. Equipped with this artificial horse and his nets the sportsman sought partridges where, by
' 1 Jac, c. 27, § 2 (1G03-4). - The llentteman's Recreation, 1686.
G7
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
calling, he had ascertained a covey to lie, and pitched his nets down-wind of them. This done, under the cover of the stalking horse, and his face covered with something green or dark blue, the sportsman stalked the partridges carefully lest they took wing, and drove them slowly ' running naturally ' to the net.
Possession of a setting dog relieved the sportsman of the necessity for learning to call. Let Cox describe the sport in his own words : —
' Having a Dog thus qualified by Art and Nature, take him with you Avhere Partridges do haunt, there call off your Dog, and by some word of encouragement that he is acquainted with, engage him to range, but never too far from you ; and see that he beat his ground justly and even, without casting about, or flying now here, now there, which the mettle of some will do if not corrected and reproved. And therefore when you per- ceive this fault, you must presently call him in with a Hem, and so check him that he dare not do the like again for that day. So will he range afterwards with more temperance, ever and anon looking in his Master's face, as if he would gather from thence whether he did well or ill. If in your Dog's ranging you perceive him to stop on the sudden, or stand still, you must then make in to him, (for without doubt he hath set the Partridge) and as soon as you come to him, command him to go nearer ; but if he goes not, but either lies still or stands shaking of his Tail, as who would say, Here they are under my nose, and withal now and then look back ; then cease from urging him further, and take your circumference, walking fast with a careless eye, looking straight before the nose of the Dog, and thereby see how the Covey lie, whether close or straggling.
' Then commanding the Dog to lie still draw forth your net, and prick one end to the ground, and spread your Net all open, and so cover as many of the Partridges as you can ; which done make in with a noise, and spring up the Partridges ; which shall no sooner rise than they will be entangled in the Net.'
68
PARTRIDGE SHOOTING
The net afforded facilities for choosing your birds when you had got them. ' If,' says our authority, tactfully combining appeal to our nobler feelings with reminder of material inter- ests, ' you shall let go the old Cock and Hen, it will not only be an act like a Gentleman, but a means to increase your Pastime.'
Shooting on the wing made progress in the early years of the eighteenth century. By the year 1718 the long barrels of a few years earlier had been discarded except for wild-fowl. ' A Piece,' says Giles Jacob,^ ' of about three foot and a half long in the Barrel, by a more perfect mixture of the Metal and skilful Boring will do more execution in the pursuit of Land fowl than your long guns : and no body is unsensible but it is less Labour and Fatigue to the Bearer.' So far as we can gather from Jacob — a somewhat unsafe guide, as certain passages in his book bear suspicious likeness to passages in Sprint's — the sportsman had not yet acquired the habit of picking his bird : but this improvement was not long to be delayed. Nine years later Mr. Markland produced his poetic discourse on shooting : " his Preface contains evidence that picking one's bird was then quite a new idea in England : also that the practice was not productive of satisfactory results. Having discussed the curious moral effect of a first miss on the whole day's performances (it seems, he says thoughtfully, to result in ' a Disorder of the Animal Spirits occasioned by the Original Disappointment '), he proceeds : —
' I have often wondered why the French, of all Mankind, should alone be so expert at the Gun, I had almost said in- fallible. It 's as rare for a profess'd Marksman of that Nation to miss a Bird as for one of Ours to kill. But, as I have been since informed, they owe this Excellence to their Education. They are train'd up to it so very young, that they are no more surpriz'd or alarm'd with a Pheasant than with a Rattle-Mouse [bat]. The best Field-Philosophers living : for they are always there Masters of their Temper.'
' The Compleat Sportnynaii, 1718.
69
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
Overcoming the temptation to speculate on the frequency with which marksmen of the day lost their temper under trying circumstances, we proceed to Mr. Markland's poem. An early start was then the rule : —
'My Friend and I, with hopeful Prospect rose, And scorned the longer Scandal of Repose : No dull Repast allow'd : our Tackle all 0''er Night prepared, the cheerful Dogs we call : In a close Pocket snuggs the cordial Dram, Youth to the Old, and Crutches to the Lame.''
One cannot resist the reflection that the sportsmen would have done more wisely to breakfast before they set out : the cordial dram is not generally considered to improve shooting, particularly if taken imder such circumstances. But let that pass. The author's reference to the heels of Frenchmen's boots is scarcely in harmony with his prefatory remarks on the excellence of French marksmanship : —
' Low — leathern — heeled our lacquer\i Boots are made. Mounted on tottVing Stilts raw Frenchmen tread : Firm Footing an unshaken Level lends ; But modish Heels are still the Woodcovl^s Friends. Our Shot of several sorts, half round the Waste, In Ticking semicircularly plac'd, Embrac''d and poiz'd us well.
' No flapping Sleeves our ready Arms controul : Short Cuff's alone prove fatal to the Fowl. Nor, arm'd in warm Surtout, we vainly fear The Sky's inclemency, or Jove severe : Active and free our Limbs and Muscles are. Whilst Exercise does glowing warmth prepare.'
A few useful hints follow : the reader is ad^'ised not to load his gun overnight, or ' in the Morn the prime will hiss,' i.e. a miss-fire may result. When priming you were not to put too much powder in the pan, or the gun would hang fire : you were to carry a partridge Aving, the feathers ser\ing to clean out the touch-hole. The tow stuffing of an old saddle had uses
70
PARTRIDGE SHOOTING
for the sportsman : ' No wadding lies so close or drives so fierce.'
Markland does not mention the device suggested by Sprint to ' make even cartridges in moulds like serpents, but with a very thin paper casing,' which prevented the powder getting damp while loading in wet weather : nor does he follow the earlier author in recommending shot cartridges fashioned to make the pellets ' come out closer and more level.'
Censorious critics may take exception to Markland's con- ception of rhythm, rhyme and metre, but he throws interesting light on the ideas accepted in his time : —
' There sprung a Single Partridge — ha ! She 's gone ! Oh ! Sir, you'd Time enough, you shot too soon ; Scarce twenty yards in oj)en Sight ! — for Shame ! Y' had shattered Her to Pieces with right Aim ! Full forty yards permit the Bird to go. The spreading Gun will surer Mischief sow : But, when too near the flying Object is. You certainly will mangle it, or miss ; And if too far, you may so sligiitly wound. To kill the Bird, and yet not bring to Ground.
' There, if the Goodness of the Piece be prov'd, Pursue not the fair mark till far remov'd : Raise the mouth gently from below the Game, And readily let fly at the first Aim. But, without Aim admit no Random Shoot : 'Tis just to judge before you execute.'
Markland, it will be observed, took deliberate and careful aim at his bird. ' Bird,' mark it, for shooting men had now arrived at the stage when they chose one of the covey, and held it unsportsmanlike to do otherwise : —
' See, Jewell stands a Point : — A Covey ! — Stay, And take this sober caution by the way : When in a Cloud the scatt'ring Birds arise. And various Marks distract the Choosing Eyes, That Choice confine to One Particular : Most who confide in fooling Fortune, err. 71
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
Young greedy Novices, who often hope By random Fate to pick a Number up, Amaz'd, behold none hounding on the Ground, Whilst manv a Bird drags off her mortal ^Vonlld. Experienced Sportsmen will of one make sure, Rest honestly content of one secure.'
From the preface we have learned that the gunner missed that One Particular more often than not : so it is all the more to Markland's credit that he should preach this doctrine so resolutely.
' Jewell,' we may take it, was a setter. Pointers were introduced from Spain early in the eighteenth century, but a setter of some kind had been used in England for at least two centuries.
These lines illustrate an interesting point in the shooting ethics of the period : —
' Halloo — Halloo — See, see from yonder Furze The Lurchers have alarmVl and started Puss ! Hold! AVliat d'ye do? Sure you don't mean to Fire ! Constrain that base, ungenerous Desire, And let the Courser and the Huntsman share Their just and proper Title to the Hare. Let the poor Creature pass and have fair Play And fight the Prize of Life out her own way. The tracing Hound by Nature was design'd Both for the Use and Pleasure of Mankind ; Form'd for the Hare, the Hare too for the Hound : In Enmity each to each other bound ; Then he who dares by ilifferent means destroy Than Nature meant, offends 'gainst Nature's Law.''
That shooting hares was illegal was a detail of which Markland was apparently unconscious. The protecting clause in James i.'s Act, by the way, was only repealed in 1807.' The statute had long fallen into abeyance, and in the early years of the nineteenth century huge bags of hares were made.
' 48 Geo. II. c. 9 §1.
72
Modern Pheasant Shooting
^^
rv^^j
^0'
""C
PARTRIDGE SHOOTING
In 1804 Lord Craven killed 1600 during a few days in Ashdown Park, Berks. In 1807 upwards of 6000 were shot on Sir Thomas Goode's lands in Suffolk. This seems to have been done in the farmers' interest. Arthur Young, writing of a visit to Suffolk in 1784,' says that Mr. Grose had been accustomed to cultivate carrots on his farm at Capel St. Andrews, but his crops were so pillaged by the enormous number of hares that he was ' determined to sow no more.' Preservation of the hares ' nursed up a breed of rabbits which add to the evil.'
Partridge shooting continued very much as it had been in Markland's time till within living memory. No doubt the marksmanship gradually improved, but as nobody thought it worth while to leave for posterity a diary showing how many shots he fired and how many birds he killed during each of a series of seasons, we can only take improvement for granted. Aspiring game shots did not suffer from lack of printed assist- ance : various books on Shooting Flying were published during the eighteenth century, and at least one after, the latest I have seen being Thomas's Guide (1809), which included Instruction to Attain the Art. Practice at swallows was recommended by some. Thomas considered a course of sparrow shooting better preparation for the field.
A 14-bore gun was generally used. At a later period sportsmen had taken advantage of the reduction in length of barrel to try larger bores, for Mr. Lemon, ' the most able Park and Gamekeeper,' who wrote an undated tract on shoot- ing during the later years of the century, tells us that there is ■ not the utility in a wide bore some sportsmen use,' and it should not exceed ' the size called fifteens,' the barrel not more than thirty-eight inches long.
Particulars of bags made in the days of long stubbles, tall hats and Joe Mantons — for a long period Joe Manton and game gun were almost interchangeable terms — may be of interest. The Sporting Magazine of 1803, among the ' returns
' Antmls of Agriculture, vol. ii.
K 73
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
of the best gentlemen shots on the first day of September, gives the following : —
' ]Mr. Coke bagged with his own gun 22 brace of partridges at Holkham : General Lennox brought home 14 brace at Goodwood. Lord Fitzharris, on a visit to the Earl of Pembroke at Wilton in Wiltshire, brought down 13 brace before breakfast, and going out again in the course of the day he made up the number to 20 J brace.' The best bag recorded for that ' First ' was the Hon. Thomas Coventry's 28 i brace in Gloucestershire. On 1st September 1810 Lord Kingston shot 4l\ brace to his own gun at Heydon, having undei'taken to kill 40 brace.
Single-barrelled guns appear to have been almost uni- versally used at this time. Colonel Thornton, when on his tour in Scotland ' used a double-barrelled gun, but his opinion of it was not a high one. On 15th September ' I gave up my double-barrel gim for the season : and here I must remark that I look upon all double barrels as trifles rather nick nacks than useful.' " When such a gun was used the fact was deemed worthy of remark, if we may judge from this paragraph in the Sporting Magazine of 1803 : —
' On the 5th of September Mr. John Walton, gamekeeper to Henry Blundell, Esq., of Ince, went out with a double-barrelled gun, attended by one dog, and in the course of the day killed 22 1 brace of partridges.'
A few years later a ' thoughtless Propensity to kill all the game possible ' seemed ' to mark a new era in shooting.' ' This Rage for Destruction presents itself in the. Shape of a Struggle for exhibiting the largest number of certain Animals to be extirpated within a, feiv Hours.'' The bag made by Lord Rendlesham and party during the last week of the season in 1807 is cited as an example : it comprised 3775 head.
The standard by which bags wxre tried in those days was
' A Sporting Tour, 1804. Daniel {Rural Sportu, viil. ii. p. 270) mentions 1784 as the year in wliicli the expedition was made.
- Double-barrelled fjuns had been made in Charles ii.'s time, vide Duke of Portland's MSS. {Hist. MSS. Comm.), vol. ii. p. 299.
74
PARTRIDGE SHOOTING
a very modest one by comparison with modern times. In 1811 at Holkham, ' when Earl Moira and several other Shots of Distinction were down on a visit to Mr. Coke . . . six days produced the following Enormous list of Slaughter, viz. Pheasants 264, Partridges 314, Woodcocks 29, Snipes 46, Hares 283, Rabbits 371. Total Killed 1307' (Daniel).
The ' enormous list of slaughter ' would no doubt have been larger, had it not been that ' a Royal Duke was one of the destructive Corps.' And His Royal Highness was an indifferent shot. ' His return, or rather the return made for him, was of a different kind, viz. : —
|
Killed of game, .... |
0 |
|
|
Wounded in the legs. |
1 |
Foot-marker slightly |
|
Wounded in the face. |
1 |
Groom severely. |
|
Wounded on the head of a Friend, |
1 |
Hat. |
|
Ditto on the left Rump, |
1 |
Horse. |
As regards proportion of kills to shots fired in the earlier decades of the century, the remarkable shooting journal kept by Lord ^lalmesbury for forty seasons, 1798 to 1840, throws light on this point. Lord ^lalmesbury during this period killed 38,475 head, having fired 54,987 shots. His bag included 10,744 partridges, 6320 pheasants, 4694 snipe, 1080 'cock, 5211 hares, 17,417 rabbits. The Hon. George Grantley Berkeley estimates that Lord IMalmesbury walked 36,200 miles during the fortv seasons : and adds that he fired away about 750 lbs. of powder and 4 tons of shot.
On 9th December 1811 the GamekeeiDcrs of Suffolk held their annual meeting at Bury to present a large silver powder- flask ' to the keeper who should produce the certificates for the greatest quantity of Hares, Pheasants, and Rabbits shot at as well as killed during any six Days from the 8th October to the 8th December.' Richard Sharnton won the prize : his list averaged three gims and his extent of preserve 4000 acres : —
75
|
Killed |
Missed |
|
378 |
199 |
|
51 |
33 |
|
506 |
301 |
|
177 |
94 |
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
Cock Pheasants, ....
Hen „ ....
Partridges, .....
Hares, ......
This same Sharnton also produced an account of the vermin he had destroyed during the preceding twelve months. It included 22 foxes(!), 446 stoats, and 167 ' hawks of all kinds ' : he also killed 7 ' Wild cats,' but we may take leave to doubt whether these were not domestic strays from the path of virtue.
In 1811 Mr. G. Clark of Worlingham, Suffolk, backed himself to kill 47 birds in fifty shots : he killed 59 in sixty shots, having missed the forty-ninth bird.
Forsyth's percussion system was invented in 1808, and a percussion gun was successfully tested against a flint-lock ; but we were ever slow to adopt novelties, and percussion guns only began to come into general use during the 'twenties, copper caps having been invented about 1825.^ Some old hands remained faithful to the flint-lock long after it had been discarded by the majority. Sir Richard Sutton was one of these conservative sportsmen : his fidelity, however, to the old style of gun was, says the late Mr. Corrance, ' a mere freak.'
The introduction of the percussion gun made no difference in the size of bags. It was regarded as unbecoming to sell game " in those days, and what the sportsman did not want for his own house was given away. Large bags were made on occasion, but such were usually the outcome of wagers. One of the most notable of these was the match, in October 1823, between Lord Kennedy shooting at Monreith in Wigtownshire against Mr. William Coke shooting at Holkham, who should make the largest bag in two days. Lord Kennedy got between
' Messrs. Kley made waterproof caps in 18;37.
2 The London market, says Daniel {Rural Sports, supp. vol., 1813), was principally supplied by poachers ; the prices given were so hiifli that poaching- was very protitahle, and the encounters hetween these men and the gamekeepers only too frequently had fatal results.
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PARTRIDGE SHOOTING
40 and 50 brace and Mr. Coke 93 brace on the first day : on the second their bags were 93i and 96 brace respectively, an attempt having been made by Lord Kennedy to kill 100 brace. Sir William Maxwell says that his father, over whose land Lord Kennedy shot, declared nothing would induce him to allow another match on his ground : it was ' strewn with cripples ' for days after. The usual sportsmanlike rule, strictly observed in these times, never to let a wounded bird escape, was evidently set aside for this match.
Mr. Tharp, owner of Chippenham Park, made a bag of 99 birds one day in October 1826. He began at 8 a.m., using one dog and one gun : he was so knocked up at three o'clock that he could not go on and complete his 50 brace.
The best partridge shooting in the days of William iv. was in the turnips. The swede had been introduced, and swedes sown broadcast provided much better cover than the roots sown by drill at a later day. In the later 'fifties reaping machines came into use and steadily ousted scythe and reap- ing-hook, till long stubbles became a thing of the past. The invention of the loading-rod was a great improvement, enabling the muzzle-loader to be recharged much more rapidly than of old. Colonel J. E. Goodall has been kind enough to give me a description of this implement which has now, apparently, been almost forgotten. It was made of stout Malacca cane, was two or three inches longer than the gun-barrel and two-thirds the diameter of the bore : flat at one end and carrying a round or flattened ball at the other. Its superiority over the ramrod lay in its greater strength and convenience. When the ramrod was used, the shooter after each discharge had to stop and reload, resting the butt on his boot-toe or on the ground, and restore the ramrod to its place : in wet or snow, moreover, the dirt on the heel-plate was transferred to the shoulder. The ' loading-rod ' or ' shooting-stick ' was much stronger than the ramrod, which was liable to break if not carefully handled, and when it was used the shooter held his gun firmly in his left hand while he rammed home the wads with his right, without
77
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
stopping to rest the butt on the ground. The rod was carried in a leather socket fastened by a lug to a button sewn at a convenient height on the coat.
This innovation brought a change in the style of part- ridge shooting. In ramrod days dogs dropped to the shot, and nobody thought of advancing till the gun had been recharged. Soon after the loading-rod came into use, the second gun carried by a loader was introduced, and the pause to recharge after a shot was abandoned, the advance being continuous.
Pointer and setter held their own until the appearance of the breech-loader : guns on this principle had been made for twenty years before they reached a stage of ^lerfection that gave them claim on the shooting man's notice. The Field trials in 1858-1859 demonstrated the superiority of the breech- loader (pin-fire) in all respects save penetration, wherein the muzzle-loader had about five per cent, the advantage. Central- fire guns came into use in the 'sixties.
Driving came into fashion about 1860. The system was fiercely denounced by the old school, but it steadily gained in popularity. The earliest detailed bag obtained by driving I can find is that on General Hall's shooting Weston Colville, near Newmarket. The party consisted of nine guns ; and five days' driving, 8th to 12th January 1858 inclusive, produced a bag of 2155 birds. The first day's total was the smallest, 327 birds, but it was blowing a hurricane : the last was the heaviest, 724, shot in a high wind. In January 1868 General Hall had another shoot of four days, which produced a bag relatively heavier, namely 1940 birds, killed by nine guns. The largest individual bag on one day was 51 J brace killed by Lord Huntingfield on the 28th. Lord Huntingfield had also the largest total for the four days, 162 bi-ace.^
An extraordinary bag was made by the late Maharajah Duleep Singh at Elveden in September 1876. Shooting on nine days between the 1st and 15th inclusive, he killed to his
' Field, 1868.
78
PARTRIDGE SHOOTING
own gun 1265 brace of partridges, his heaviest bag being made on the 8th, when he killed 780 birds on Hall Farm, Eriswell : these were hand-reared birds ; shot walking and driving. The Maharajah — one of the quickest shots in England — used a little over 1000 cartridges to make this bag of 390 brace.
At Elveden in 1885 three guns, shooting on fifteen days in September, killed 6509 birds (3254| brace) : the 23rd yielded the heaviest bag, 428 brace. Some very heavv bags have been made on Mr. Arthur Blyth's Essex shootings in the parishes of Elmdon, Heydon, and Chrishall : in one day, season 1898-1899, 1076 birds (seven guns), the record for that season in England. This was nearly equalled in the following season, when a day's driving (seven guns) produced 1021 birds. Some very heavy bags have been made at The Grange, Alresford, Hants, one of the finest shootings, owned by one of the finest shots, in England. In 1877 the bag was 11,015 partridges : in 1897 it was 9102. A wonderful bag was made one day in November of the year last named, when 730| brace were killed.
No man has better described the modern partridge drive than Mr. Stuart Woi'tley from his shooting stool : —
' . . . Again your thoughts fly off ; to the tropical marsh and the snorting rush of the woimded rhino through the reeds ; to your shares in the new drifts in IMashonaland, and their possible value ; to the horse that failed by a short head to land the "' 1000 to 30, twice " that might have saved you ; to the dire confusion foUo^ang, and your flight by reason of this to Afric's coral strand ; to the cares and complications, the duns and dilemmas of London life. And as these almost bring you back to consciousness, a fresher gust of breeze sweeps down the fence, and — " Hold up those birds there, on the left ; hold 'em up, hold 'em up ! " The clear voice of Marlowe, prince of partridge-drivers, ringing out from the down-wind side, the crack of his whip, and the rattle of his horse's feet tell you that he is already round and into the
79
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
turnips, and with a sharp whirring rattle, Uke the flutter of a moth's wing in a cardboard box, tliree birds are over the fence on your left, and almost on you before you see them. Up and round you swing, killing one stone dead, but the second was too far, and they are gone. Involuntarily you look at your neighbour, a man there is no deceiving, for you know you were caught napping, and ought to have killed one of those in front of you, and the little half-sarcastic glance out of the corner of his right eye, though he never moves his head, tells you he saw it all.
' " Over, gentlemen — over the right ! " is now the cry, and with a whirr that is almost a roar, a big lot breaks all over the fence to your right and in front. Now thoroughly awake, you kill three neatly, quickly followed by a smart right and left^ one in front and one behind — at a brace that come straight at you, immediately followed by misses with both barrels at one hanging along the fence and inclined to go back over the beaters. You strike him underneath with the second, he winces, rises a little, and just as he seems to turn is crumpled up dead by the professor on your left, a beautiful long cross shot, and you are fain to touch your hat and acknowledge a clean wipe. But now they come thick, and being just angry enough, you settle into form ; for though your left arm feels like iron, and your grip on the fore-end like a vice, yet your actions are getting the looseness and your style the freedom that good form, confidence, and lots of shooting inspire, and you begin to " play the hose upon them " properly. Here and there a miss, sometimes two running, generally poking shots at birds which have passed close by while you were changing guns, and which somehow baffle you against the rising stubble behind. Why, you don't know, but you miss three or four in the same place and in the same way, though otherwise you are " all right."
' A great big lot, three or four coveys packed together, pours out at the upper end over the left hand, and, swinging round in the wind, heads straight down the line of guns.
80
PARTRIDGE SHOOTING
Here they come, streaming high and fast, getting a broadside from each of the men on your left. " One — two " with your first gun, " three — four " with your second — the last a beauty, and as they come clattering down like cricket balls about the head of your right-hand neighbour, you feel you have done your duty.
' A hare leaps through a run in the fence bottom, sits foolishly with ears laid back for a second, and then dashes for it past you. Let her go, she will do to breathe the farmer's greyhounds in February ; " here 's metal more attractive," for birds are still coming. But the whimpering of your retriever at the close view of the forbidden iur, and the conse- quent objurgations of the keeper behind, sufficiently distract you to make you snap at and miss an easy bird in front with your first, and turn and fiercely drive it into him much too close with your second.
' " D — n the hare," you mutter aloud as you change your gun ; but the men are getting near, you hear the whish and rustle of the flags, a few more desultory lots come screaming over, and pretty it is, looking down the line, to see them drop out as they pass, for the performers on either side of you are picked from the best in England. A few more " singletons " to each gun, all killed but one, at which four barrels are fired, and which towers far away back.
'"Anything to pick up this side, gentlemen?" sings out Marlowe ; in another minute he and his horse come crashing through the gap, the white smocks and flags are peeping through unforeseen holes in the fence, all the dogs are loose and ranging far and wide, the guns and loaders scattered, picking up in all directions, and the drive of the season is over.
' Seventy-five brace in the single drive, of which forty birds you can honestly claim, having laid their corpses in a fair row ere they are hurled by the old pensioner into his sack, and you find yourself shouted, whistled, nay, sworn at, to get on to the next drive.'
The red-leg Avas first introduced into this country by L 81
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
Charles ii,, who turned out several pair near Windsor. It is said that the experiment failed, though some of the birds, or their descendants, were seen for a few years afterwards.
Daniel says : ' The late Duke of Northumberland pre- served many, in hopes of their increasing upon his manors : but the late Earl of Rochford and Marquis of Hertford have been at the most expense and trouble to establish them in this country : both these noblemen had not only numbers of the birds sent over from France, but also imported many thousands of their eggs, which were hatched under Hens and set at liberty at a proper age : by this means there are now plenty of the red birds upon the latter nobleman's estate near Orford in Suffolk.'
Lord Rochford's experiment was less successful : they increased, but did not remain upon his property — St. Osyth, coveys having been found some miles therefrom, presum- ably having wandered in search of more congenial soil. Daniel, in 1777, found a covey of fourteen within two miles of Col- chester, and he remarks that for half an hour they baffled the exertions of a brace of good pointers to make them rise from the thick turnips. He also remarks upon their pro- pensity lor going to ground in rabbit burrows when wounded.
The red-leg nowhere gained much favour during the first half of the century : the belief that it drove away the English bird, added to its pedestrian habit, made it unpopular. On soiue manors the eggs were destroyed whenever found until driving became fairly established : then its merits began to receive recognition again. ' Of late,' says a writer in 1861, ' it has been a practice among some manorial proprietors to encourage the French or red-legged partridge in our island ... it is found to thrive well.'
82
PARTRIDGE SHOOTING
THE FIRST OF SEPTEMBER
Loiterer, arise! the morn hatli kept For thee her orient pearls unwept ; Haste, and tal<e them, while the light Hangs on the dew-locks of the night. See ! Aurora throws her fair Fresh tinted colours through the air : Come forth ! come forth ! 'tis very sin And profanation to keep in ! There's jov and gladness in the skies. Loiterer, from thy couch arise !
Our life is short, our moments run
Swift as the coursers of the Sun ;
And, like the vapour or the rain,
Once lost, can ne'er be traced again :
Each flower hath wept, and eastward bow"d
Tiie skylark, far above the cloud
To hvmn his song of praise is fled.
And all the birds their matins said ;
There's joy and gladness in the skies.
Loiterer, from thv couch arise !
Haste, ere the sun hath drunk the dews Boon Nature to her banquet woos ; Around the smiling field no more Are waving with their yellow store. Homeward bears the loaded wain The golden glories of the plain ! And nut-brown partridges are seen Gliding among the stubble screen : There's joy and gladness in the skies. Loiterer, from thv couch arise !
J. W. C, Sporting Magazine, 1834.
83
GROUSE SHOOTING
SHOOTING Grouse after Red Deer,' says Christopher North, ' is for a while, at first, felt to be like writing an anagram in a lady's album after having given the finishing touch to a tragedy or epic poem.' The genial Professor of Moral Philosophy included grouse shooting among his Recreations, but in his old age he took a hint from Daniel, who says : ' Upon the hills where a horse can travel this is a noble diversion : to be undertaken other- wise demands constant and hard labour, for the shooter is, during the course of the day, ascending, that is, if he finds a brood on the top of one eminence they will sweep over the valley, until they reach the summit of another, up which the sportsman has to climb : in pursuing these birds when the Dog stands, should the Grous erect their heads and run it is a sign, either from wet or some other cause, that they will not lie well that day, and the Sportsman has small chance of getting a shot, but by running and heading them.'
' Grous ' shooting conducted on the principles indicated in the last words would partake somewhat of the nature of hard labour.
I can find no description of grouse shooting earlier than that given by Colonel Thornton, which refers to 1784.^ The Colonel enjoyed his sport on terms very different from those which grew up during the nineteenth century. He camped out where he listed, flew his hawks, shot and fished where and when it seemed good to him, without let or hindrance. If he asked leave he does not mention the formality : for formality it was
' A Sporting Tour.
84
GROUSE SHOOTING
in those days when Southron visitors to the North were so rare.
Thus the Colonel on his sport at Raits on 14th September : —
' We rose early, took our breakfast and, having some letters to write, I detained Mr. Drighorn, whom I hoped to have persuaded that all business, at the distance of two hundred miles, should give way to the casting over fresh moors, and plenty of game : for I submit to sportsmen, whether there is not as much pleasure in trying fresh moors as in any other amusement.'
Again : —
' Of game I found an immense quantity, and I am con- vinced could have killed any number : indeed I never shot better nor killed so many, all our nets and my ammunition pocket being crammed full. At last I drove in the broods among some large junipers, certainly the most capital and luxurious of all shooting ; this tempted me to take a double shot and I killed both. Humanity then cried stop, would you destroy the whole race ? No. I slung my gun and contemplating found Crosly, who was looking again for the goshawk. I had thrown her out a wounded old moorgame cock which she had not seen : I then threw her out a strong poult which to my surprise she raked with ease and carried it into the junipers.'
Contrary to his custom, Colonel Thornton omits to say what his bag totalled on this day. He and his friends were usually content with five or six brace per gun per day, a few more being killed by the falcons.
Bags which would be considered good measured by modern standards were occasionally made a century ago : ' To show the abundance,' says Daniel, ' rather than the exploit itself (which by a sportsman, must be hoped never will be repeated), the Earl of Strathmore's Gamekeeper was matched for a considerable sum to shoot J orty brace of moor game in the course of the 12th of August, upon his Lordship's moors in Yorkshire : he performed it with great ease, shooting by two o'clock forty- three brace : at eight o'clock in the morning owing to a thick
85
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
fog, he had onl\- killed three birds, and the odds ran mueh against him : however the day eleared up by eleven, and the work of slaughter went on rapidly.'
Robert Lascelles in Angling, Shooting and Coursing (1815) gives this bag as 42| braee, and adds that the keeper, James Crondace by name, used three brace of pointers and six double guns,' which he fired in almost continuous succession.'
' In 1801 a Gentleman in Invernesshire shot JiJ'ty -two brace of moor game in one day, never killing a bird sitting or more than one bird at a time.'
Bowes Moor, the property of Lord Strathmore referred to, was let at a later date. From the following letter addressed by Squire Osbaldeston to ]\Ir. Budd, it would appear that any man could purchase the right to shoot over the moor, in common with others, for £'20 for the season. Having con- ceived the ' fancy to see the fun at Bowes,' the Squire pre- vailed upon two friends, Messrs. Inman and Wilson, to join him ; and thus he describes that ' Twelfth ' : the date is believed to be 1828 : —
' I walked up to the public-house where I w^as to sleep. This was about ten o'clock, but I found such a noise and smok- ing, that I did not go to bed until half-past eleven, and rose again at one o'clock as we had nine miles to ride to Bowes- moor. I never slept a wink, rose at one and started at two. We arrived at our post at half-past three, but could not see to shoot. There were several parties lying near us watching for the light, and we nearly all started together. It put me in mind of what one reads of a storming party springing from the trenches. Owing to Wood's delay (in the night I may call it) we were obliged to leave him behind and shoot with any of the dogs that would follow. Inman and I and Wood contrived so badly that neither he nor Wilson found us till six o'clock, and would have lost us altogether, if we had not beaten back on the same Une we began. I thought at first we should kill nothing, but I ended the day with bagging 22 brace ; no other man that I could hear of killing above 12| brace. I hardly
86
GROUSE SHOOTING
ever shot so well — I killed seven or eight quite out of all distance. It was quite a scramble ; birds flying all directions, men swearing and dogs howling from the whip. I walked from half-past three until six at night, when we gave up — not a bird to be found. The birds were as big as old ones and very wild. The day also was wild — wind and showers. The birds got up at sixty to one hundred yards off at times.'
But let us return to Scotland and trace the rise of grouse shooting as a fashion before we go farther. ' When I first trod the heather, gun in hand,' wrote Captain Horatio Ross in 1862,^ ' letting shootings in the Highlands was almost unknown. I think the first shooting quarter ever let was Glen Dye in Kincardineshire (extent about 36,000 acres) : for this the late Lord Panmure, then the Hon. William Maule, gave £150 a year. This gentleman was the proprietor of immense moors in Forfar- shire which marched with Glen Dye, but so great was his kind- ness and so extended his hospitality, that his own 200,000 or 300,000 acres did not suffice for all the friends to whom, to the last hour of his life (some eight or nine years since) he gratui- tously gave sport, and he for several years rented Glen Dye that he might still further oblige his friends.'
Captain Ross refers to the ' forty-eight consecutive seasons that I have shot on the moors of Scotland ' ; his first season, therefore, would have been 1813.
Mr. Barclay of Ury, famed as a pedestrian, took some 60,000 acres in Inverness-shire soon after Lord Panmure took Glen Dye ; and for these he paid. Captain Ross thought, only £50 a year. Mr. Barclay was followed as tenant by the Duke of Bedford, who paid £300 ; and Captain Ross, who succeeded the Duke, held the shooting for five years at £400 a vear. In 1862 the shooting was rented at £1000, ' but a deer forest has been formed, the grazings of which are worth about £300. The actual shooting rent has, however, risen in my memory from £50 to £700.' The cause of this rise in rents is easilv explained : in the earlier decades of the nineteenth century
' Letter to the J-ield. 87
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
travelling was slow and expensive, and the Highlands were, comparatively speaking, little known. For a long time after the first shootings were rented, moreover, the Highland land- owner considered it infra dig. to let a moor.
Here is a characteristic passage from Christopher North, an unconventional votary of what had at this time, 1842, become a fashionable sport : —
' . . . But let us inspect Brown Bess. Till sixty, we used a single barrel. At seventy we took to a double ; ' — but dang detonators — we stick to the flint. " Flint," says Colonel Hawker, " shoots strongest into the bird." A percussion-gun is quicker, but flint is fast enough ; and it does, indeed, argue rather a confusion than a rapidity of ideas, to find fault with lightning for being too slow. With respect to the flash in the pan, it is but a fair warning to ducks, for example, to dive if they can, and get out of the way of mischief. It is giving birds a chance for their lives, and is it not ungenerous to grudge it ? When our gun goes to our shoulder, that chance is but small ; for with double-barrel Brown Bess, it is but a word and a blow, — the blow first, and long before you could say Jack Robinson, the garcock plays thud on the heather. But we beg leave to set the question at rest for ever by one single clencher. We have killed fifty birds — grouse — at fifty successive shots
one bird only to the shot. And mind, not mere pouts —
cheepers — for we are no chicken-butchers — but all thumpers — cocks and hens as big as their parents, and the parents them- selves likewise ; not one of which fell out of hounds (to borrow a phrase from the somewhat silly though skilful pastime of pigeon-shooting), except one that suddenly soared halfway up to the moon, and then
*• Into sucli strange vagaries fell As he would dance,'
and tumbled down stone-dead into a loch. Now, what more
1 Professor John Wilson was horn in 1785 ; he was therefore about fifty-seven years old when this was written. He died in 1854.-(Z;/<,7. of Nat. Biography.)
88
GROUSE SHOOTING
could have done a detonator in the hands of the devil him- self ? . . .
' But let us off to the Moor ! Piro ! Ponto ! Basta ! to your paws, and O'Bronte, unfurl your tail to heaven. Pointers ! ye are a noble trio. White, O Ponto ! art thou as the foam of the sea. Piro ! thou tan of all tans ! red art thou as the dun-deer's hide, and fleet as he while thou rangest the mountain brow, now hid in heather, and now re-appearing over the rocks. Waur hawk, Basta ! — for finest scented though be thy scarlet nostrils, one bad trick alone hast thou ; and whenever that grey wing glances from some pillar-stone in the wilderness, headlong goest thou, O lawless negro ! But behave thyself to-day, Basta ! and let the kestrel unheeded sail or sun herself on the cliff. As for thee, O'Bronte ! the sable dog with the star-bright breast, keep thou like a serf at our heels, and when our coiu-se lies over the fens and marshes, thou mayest sweep like a hairy hurricane among the flappers, and haply, to-day, grip the old drake himself, and with thy fan-like tail proudly spread in the wind, deposit at thy master's feet, with a smile, the monstrous mallard.
' But in what direction shall we go, callants — towards what airt shall we turn our faces ? Over yonder cliffs shall we ascend, and descend into Glen-Creran, where the stony regions that the ptarmigan love melt away into miles of the grousey heather, which, ere we near the salmon-haunted Loch so beautiful, loses itself in woods that mellow all the heights of Glen Ure and Fasnacloigh with silvan shades, wherein the cushat coos, and the roe glides through the secret covert ? Or shall we away up by Kinloch-Etive, and Melnatorran, and Mealgayre, into the Solitude of Streams, that from all their lofty sources down to the far distant Loch have never yet brooked, nor will they ever brook, the bondage of bridges, save of some huge stone flung across some chasm, or trunk of a tree — none but trunks of trees there, and all dead for centuries — that had sunk down where it grew, and spanned the flood that eddies round it with a louder music ? Wild region ! yet M 89
BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT
not barren ; for there are cattle on a thousand hills, that, wild as the very red-deer, toss their heads as they snuff the feet of rarest stranger, and form round him in a half-alarmed and half-threatening crescent. . . .
' . . . All these are splendid schemes — but what say you, Hamish, to one less ambitious, and better adapted to Old Kit ? Let us beat all the best bits down by Armaddy — the Forge — Glenco, and Inveraw. We may do that well in some six or seven hours — and then let us try that famous salmon-cast nearest the mansion — (you have the rods ?) — and if time permit, an hour's trolling in Loch Awe, below the pass of the Brander, for one of these giants that have immortalized the name of a Maule, a Goldie, and a Wilson. Mercy on us, Shelty, what a beard 1 You cannot have been shaved since Whitsunday — and never saw we such lengthy love locks as those dangling at your heels. But let us mount old Surefoot — mulish in naught but an inveterate aversion to all stumbling. And now for the heather ! But are you sure, gents, that ive are on ?
' And has it come to this ! Where is the grandson of the desert-born ? Thirty years ago, and thou, Filho da Puta, wert a flyer ! A fencer beyond compare ! Dost thou remember how, for a cool five himdred, thou clearedst yon canal in a style that rivalled that of the red-deer across the chasms of Cairn- gorm ? All we had to do was to hold hard and not ride over the hounds, when running breast-high on the rear of Reynard the savage pack wakened the welkin with the tumultuous hubbub of their death-cry. . . . You are sure we are on, Hamish ? and that he will not run away ? Come, come, Surefoot, none of your funking ! A better mane for holding on by we could not imagine. Pure Shelty, you say, Hamish ? From his ears we should have suspected his grandfather of having been at least a Zebra. . . .
' . . . Comma — semicolon — colon — full point ! All three scent-struck into attitude steady as stones. That is beautiful. Ponto straight as a rod — Piro in a slight curve — and Basta a
90
GROUSE SHOOTING
perfect semicircle. O'Bronte ! down on your marrow-bones. But there is no need, Hamish, either for hurry or haste. On such ground, and on such a day, the birds will lie as if they were asleep. Hamish, the flask ! not the powder-flask, you dotterel — but the Glenlivet. 'Tis thus we always love to steady our hand for the first shot. It gives a fine feehng to the fore- finger.
' Ho ! the heads of the old cock and hen, like snakes above the heather — motionless, but with glancing eyes — and prepar- ing for the spring. \^^lurr — whirr — whirr — bang — bang — tapsilleery — tapsalteery — thud — thud — thud ! Old cock and hen both down, Hamish. No mean omen, no awkward augury, of the day's sport. Now for the orphan family— marked ye them round
"The swelling instep of the mountain's foot.''''
' . . . Up to the time of our grand climacteric we loved a wide range and thought nothing of describing and discussing a circle of ten miles diameter in a day, up to our hips in heather. But for these dozen or twenty past, we have preferred a narrow beat, snugly seated on a shelty, and pad the hoof on the hill no more. Yonder is the kind of ground we love — for why should an old man make a toil of a pleasure ? 'Tis one of the many small coves belonging to Glen Etive and looks down from no very great elevation upon the Loch. Its bottom and side nearly half way up, are green pastures, sheep-nibbled as smooth as a lawn — and a rill, dropping in diamonds from the cliffs at its upper end, betrays itself, where the water is in- visible, by a line of still livelier verdure. An old dilapidated sheepfold is the only building, and seems to make the scene still more solitary. Above the green pastures are the richest beds and bosoms of heather ever bees murmured on — and above them nothing but bare cliffs. A stiff breeze is now blowing into this cove from the sea loch : and we shall slaughter the orphan family at our leisure. 'Tis probable they have dropped — single bird after single bird — or in twos and threes —
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all along the first line of heather that met their flight : and if so we shall pop them like partridges in turnips. Three points in the game ! Each dog, it is manifest, stands to a different lot of feathers : and we shall slaughter them, without dismounting, seriatim. No, Hamish — we must dismount — give us your shoulder — that will do. The Crutch — now we are on our pins. Take a lesson. Whirr ! Bang ! Bag number one, Hamish. Ay, that is right, Ponto — back Basta. Ditto, ditto. Now Ponto and Basta both back Piro — right and left this time — and not one of the brood will be left to cheep of Christopher. Be ready — attend us with the other double barrel. Whirr ! Bang — bang — bang — bang ! What think you of that, you son of the mist ? There is a shower of feathers ! They are all at sixes and sevens upon the greensward at the edge of the heather. Seven birds at four shots ! The whole family is now disposed of — father, mother and eleven children. If such fire be in the dry wood what must it have been in green ? Let us lie down in the sheltered shade of the mossy walls of the sheepfold — take a drop of Glenlivet — and philosophise.'
Captain Ross said (1862) that he had never tried to make a great bag in one day : he thought 05 brace was his heaviest, ' but that is nothing : 200 brace have since been shot in a day by one man easily on 12th August.'
The Hon. A. E. Gathorne Hardy, in his delightful Autumns in Argyleshire with Rod and Gun, observes that in his county forty brace over dogs is, and always has been, a great day. Let him speak for himself : —
' . . . The road here degenerates into a mere farm track, very steep in places ; but we have not much further to go, for here is Stroneska farm, where dogs and keepers are waiting for us. Altogether there are eight dogs — six pointers and two setters ; but two of the pointers are only young ones in their first season, brought out more for the benefit of their educa- tion than to help the sport. In addition to the head-keeper and the one to whose beat the groimd belongs, there are two gillies, one of whom bears on his back an enormous pannier,
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capable of holding some thirty brace of grouse, and no light weight, if, as occasionally happens, it is filled at the close of the day. It is the theory of the laird that ponies cannot be taken over the ground, and there is no doubt that there are many excessively boggy hollows and awkward dykes ; but I confess to being sceptical as to the alleged impossibihty, having seen much of the instinctive capacity of a well-trained Highland pony for finding its way across difficult country. However, the gillies do not have a hard time of it. Their duty is to keep out of sight of us, but within sound of a whistle, in case fresh dogs or cartridges are wanted, and most of their time is spent in lounging about until the end of the day's sport, when the hamper has to be taken down to the dog-cart. Then it is a sight to see how a tall Highlander can step out in spite of the weight on his shoulders ; but your West Coast man is better at an energetic spurt than at prolonged exertion.
' The first part of our beat is up a low hill, mainly grass and rushes, with only a few patches of heather ; still, it is worth while to hunt it, as it is on the way, and there is nothing so tiresome as a long walk to the ground. The principal inhabi- tants are the ubiquitous rabbits, which here and now are a nuisance, and nothing but it. When you see the side of a hill literally alive with them in the late evenings, it is hard to believe that men still living remember the first artificial intro- duction of the rabbit into Argyleshire, and the prophecies that they would never do in such a wet climate.
' " Let Rake go ! " and off gallops a strong well-proportioned setter, delighted to have the first turn — a distinction he owes rather to his defects than to his merits, as it is now impossible to spoil him. "Is that a very young dog?" says my com- panion, rather new to the sport and misled by the frantic activity of the debutant. " He is as old as a man," is the