£» is
■s
~t
TUFTS UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES
037
We-h 'eterinary Medicine
Cummings S y Medicine at
sity i o Road North Grafton, MA 01536
f
THE ANALYSIS OF
THE HUNTING FIELD
BEING A SERIES OF SKETCHES OF THE PRIN- CIPAL CHARACTERS THAT COMPOSE ONE. THE WHOLE FORMING A SLIGHT SOUVENIR OF THE SEASON 1845-6
WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS BY H. ALKEN
A NEW EDITION
METHUEN & CO. LONDON
1904
NOTE
HPHIS Issue is founded on the Original Edition, published by Rudolph Acker- mann in the year 1846
I
V
^
-
«*
$&<>
^fl
■
■
^mgi
|
; ill] |
■ ' ;
i " +^£$fr<
PREFACE
T'HE following papers appeared in " Bell's Life in London," Sporting paper, during last season, and, independently of their reference to foxhunting generally, form a slight Souvenir of that extremely favourable winter — the best hunting one in the author's recollection; as such, he respectfully dedi- cates them to his brother sportsmen.
191, Regent Street, London, October, 1846.
PREFACE
'"PHE Author of the following work believes it will be generally observed that the sporting mania has greatly increased of late years, though the followers of the chase have not increased in the same proportion as the patrons of the " turf," the " leash," and other money-mixing amusements. This perhaps may be attributed to an erroneous idea that hunting cannot be enjoyed at other than serious cost, while some few attempt to make "both ends meet" by horse-dealing, steeple-chasing, and hurdle-racing.
To correct the idea relative to expense, to repress the over-riding spirit engendered by steeple-chasing, and to encourage a fair and generous spirit of sport- ing enterprise and social intercourse, are the objects mainly aimed at in the following examination of the component parts of a hunting field.
The man with one horse will here be found as welcome as the man with ten. The man with ten will not be able to make a better fight than the man with one ; while the mere tricky pretender is treated as such gentry generally are. In short, the volume is written with a view of upholding the great national
viii PREFACE
sport of hunting in its purest, most legitimate form, and of decrying all attempts at money making, out of what ought to be sheer pleasure.
The work opens with a meet of foxhounds, for the purpose of introducing the characters as they generally arrive; — master and servants first, black coats next, reds after them, and so on ; but in its progress the season is supposed to advance until the work ultimately forms a "souvenir" of that of 1845-6, — one that all sportsmen will admit was eminently deserving of the compliment.
It was, perhaps, the best hunting season of modern times; and its lustre will be increased by the un- favourable one that followed.
191, Regent Street, 1847.
CONTENTS
CHAP.
I. The Master— Month, October
II. Adjourned Debate — the Master at Cottonwool's
III. The Master — Continued
IV. The Master — Concluded V. The Huntsman
VI. The Huntsman — Continued .
VII. The Whipper-In VIII. The Whipper-In — Concluded .
IX. The Earth-Stopper . X. The Groom ....
XI. The Groom — Continued XII. The Groom— Concluded
XIII. Peter Pigskin ....
XIV. The Farmer .... XV. Elijah Bullwaist, the Blacksmith
XVI. The Squire ....
XVII. Lord Evergreen ; with some Thoughts on Tuft Hunting
14 21 27 39 53 66 81 99 ii5 129
143 154 168 185 203
221
x CONTENTS
CHAP. I' AGE
XVIII. Captain Shabryhounde, the Steeple- Chaser ..... 239
XIX. Captain Shabbyhounde — Concluded. . 264
XX. Lady Foxhunters — Sir Rasper Smashgate
and Miss Cottonwool . . . 287
XXI. Colonel Codshead ; or, the Close of
the Season .... 307
LIST OF PLATES
Plate i. The Meet. (With bright
faces and merry hearts.) . Illustrated Title-page
,, 2. Getting Away. (Let's take
the lead.) To face page 81
,, 3. Full Cry. (Let's keep the
lead.) ,,154
„ 4. The Check. (What the
devil do you do here. ) . , , 203
,, 5. The Leap. (That will shut out many, and make the thing select.) .... ,, 239
„ 6. Whoo-hoo-oop. (A chosen
few alone the death survey. ) . ,, 287
THE ANALYSIS OF
THE HUNTING FIELD
CHAPTER I
THE MASTER — MONTH, OCTOBER
ITH a very slight touch of summer,1 here we are again close upon hunt- ing— nay, in some parts it has commenced already. In London the " sear and yellow leaf" reminds us of the old "red rag." What can compensate for the beauties of departing summer, but the glories of the chase ? Confound it, we believe we'd almost compound for the absence of summer altogether, if we could but enlarge the operations of the pack. Well, however, " Here we are again ! " as Mr. Merryman exclaims, as he bounds into the circle. " Here we are again ! " Another month, and the season will be in its pride. Let us indulge the pleasures of anticipation by giving our mind's-eye a canter round the hunting field.
1 The summer of 1845 was singularly wet and unseasonable ; for further particulars, see Preface.
2 THE HUNTING FIELD
First comes the Master — punctual as Masters should be. His clever grey hack has scarce turned a hair, though he has come no end of distance within the hour, while the rider as he enters the field drops the reins, and, raising his hat, wipes the slight per- spiration from his brow with a stout bandana, showing the thinning hair of his crown, and the slightly shot grey of forty, or five-and-forty years. But look what health is on his brow. Fine clear complexion, light bright; eye, full lip, white teeth, steady unshaken hand of early hours, strong exercise, and sobriety. We have seen many older men at thirty.
Our Master looks the sportsman all over : neat, we may almost say smart ; but not the smartness that is afraid of dirt. No dandified satin or French polish flimsy finery is here ; all is stout, warm, and weather- defying. The good heavy hat (caps for gentlemen we abhor) would resist a deluge, or one of 1845 summer's rains, the round-cut single-breasted red coat, confined by one button, across the step-collared toilanette striped waistcoat, is made of strong double- milled cloth ; the roomy breeches are of broadish striped cord, not exactly white, but what will scour to white ; and the well put on boots are made of that comfortable-looking leather that tells to the eye how soft they sit to the wearer's foot. But mark; they are not jacks — hang your jacks, say we ! ditto your Napoleons ; ditto your cab-head leather fisherman's, with mouths gaping like young rooks, and which seem capable of carrying half the wearer's wardrobe, along with his legs. Give us the good old top — the top that neither degenerates into affectation by its shallowness nor its depth; the top that looks as if it cares not for bullfinch or briar, and whose soles are of sufficient strength to command the respect of the kickable portion of the community. For any one, save perhaps our late respected friend the living skeleton, there is no costume equal to boots and
THE MASTER— MONTH, OCTOBER 3
breeches — boots and breeches well made, and well put on, indispensable accompaniments for the well- looking of both. We could write a chapter on boots, but as we purpose passing the field in review, we will glance at their various characters as the wearers come before us. Spurs, too, are an eloquent subject for dissertation. If any one would collect the hats, gloves, whips, boots, and spurs of a field, placing
each set by themselves, we would undertake to appropriate them to the station in life of the re- spective parties. These, too, however, for the present, we shall "pass," as the auctioneers say, simply observing that our Master's gloves are doe- skin, his whip a lapped whalebone one, with a hammer head, his persuaders of the Jersey pattern, with silver studs and buckles. The well polished strap-ends come well over the buckles, and the boots altogether
4 THE HUNTING FIELD
wear a sort of air that says no common mud shall stick to us.
A Master of Hounds is one of the most difficult characters in life to fill; hence it is not surprising that there are but two sorts — the best fellows under the sun — and the nastiest brutes going. Fortunately for society, the " nastiest brutes " going, are so select and so self-convicting a set as not to require much description from us; they are generally waffling, fretting, fussing, fuming, vapouring bodies, who soon make way for one of the " best fellows under the sun." Now the best fellows under the sun, like the "best horse going," are a numerous breed, but, as applied to masters of hounds, they must, to a certain extent, have the same qualities, though they may have very different ways of showing them. First and foremost they must be keen. About this there must be "no mistake," as the Duke of Wellington would say. It would be not a bit more absurd for a man to punish himself by keeping a yacht, who hates sailing and the sight of the sea, than it is for a man to keep a pack of foxhounds who has no ardent predilection for the chase. A qualified liking will not do for a "best fellow under the sun." He must be heart and soul in the sport — a real out-and-outer. Keenness covers a multitude of sins.
In addition to the sine qua non of keenness, he should possess a host of other qualities. He should have the boldness of a lion, the cunning of a fox, the shrewdness of an exciseman, the calculation of a general, the decision of a judge, the purse of Squire Plutus, the regularity of a railway, the punctuality of a time-piece, the liberality of a sailor, the patience of Job, the tact of an M.P., the wiliness of a diplomatist, the politeness of a lord, the strength of an Hercules, the thirst of a Bacchus, the appetite of a Dando, the digestion of an ostrich, the coolness of a crocodile, the fire-enduring powers of a salamander or of Mons.
THE MASTER— MONTH, OCTOBER 5
Chabot, the Fire King, with a slight touch of the eloquence of Cicero, and temper as even as the lines in a copy-book. Lor bless us, what a combination of qualities ! John Austin, the peripatetic showman's happy united family in the body of a foxhunter !
Money ! money ! money ! like Mr. Wilberforce's reiterated cry of Sugar ! sugar ! sugar ! is, however, perhaps, the most important thing after keenness and temper. City people, perhaps, would put money first, but that shows they know nothing about foxhunting. A real keen-un will generally get a country, even though he has a soldier's thigh, before John Plutus, who has only his money pots to recommend him. Money, however, there must be, either from the Master or the field; happy, therefore, is the country possessing a Master in the enjoyment of the qualifica- tions we have dotted down, and who is willing and able to pay his " own shot " ; dearly should they prize him, for were they to lose him we really don't know where to recommend them another.
Having sent for our maid of all work to try the foregoing upon her, we observed that she neither smiled nor even relaxed a muscle of her rather pretty countenance, till we repeated the word " sugar," and, when we had concluded, she observed, with her usual candid diffidence, that she did not understand what all these qualities had to do with the " red coats," as she calls them, conceiving, we rather suspect, that foxhunters are a sort of off-shoots of soldiers.
As we may have other readers in a similar predica- ment to Susannah, we will be our own " Boswell," and treat them to a running commentary on the obscure portions of our text. This we may do in a rambling sort of way, without reference to the order in which they now stand.
A Member of Parliament is generally supposed to have a ticklish up-hill sort of game to play, but it is nothing compared to that of a Master of Foxhounds.
6 THE HUNTING FIELD
The Member has merely to bamboozle people once in six or seven years out of something that really is hardly worth giving or receiving, and to change his coat at short notice, but the Master of the Hounds has to keep his soft solder pot boiling all the year round, healing real or imaginary wounds, trying to make farmers believe something very much like " black being white," coaxing them into a credence that it benefits wheat and sown grass to ride over them, that foxes never touch lambs, and abhor poultry, that it benefits hedges for horses to dance hornpipes upon them, with many other similar and singularly curious articles of belief.
So much for the M.P. quality.
Time ! which assuredly has begun to go quicker since railways were introduced, has even carried the gastronomic feats of " Dando," into the oblivion of all forgetfulness ; yet let it not be said — Dando, though dead, yet lives in the recollection of oyster-shop keepers and licensed wittier s — Dando,1 who could eat a peck of oysters, and pick his teeth with a shoulder of mutton bone for luncheon — Dando, the nimble, plausible, dexterous Dando, who, with all the luggage aboard, could outstrip the most heron-gutted chop- house waiter, or the swiftest and best winded of the great " unboiled " — Dando can never die ! Die he may, in the common every day dolly-mop world, but die he never can in the recollection of those whom he honoured with his large, though somewhat ex- pensive patronage.
And how do we connect the feats of Dando with
1 Dando, we may state for the benefit of the juvenile, was a wandering sort of cormorant, much addicted to oysters, but whose means being in no way proportionate to his appetite, he used to be under the necessity of "bolting" after having " bolted" as many oysters as he could hold. He used to afford "fine runs" to the police, and we believe it was in contempla- tion at one time to engage him for the purpose of being hunted by the Queen's stag hounds.
THE MASTER— MONTH, OCTOBER 7
the necessary qualifications for a Master of Fox- hounds? Why, thus — Dando was a great "feeder," and so should a Master. Next to drawing a gentle- man's covers in a morning, drawing the ladies' covers in an evening is of the last importance.
And here let us request our friend the printer to have the kindness to print the word " cover " as we have written it. We are aware that modern fashion has tacked a " t " to the end, but Peter Beckford, who is quite authority enough for us, wrote it as we have done. Moreover, in this instance, adding a "t" would spoil the point of the sentence.
Hark, back to dinner, and Dando !
Hunting and hospitality are almost synonymous, and the man who hunts a country must calculate on a good deal of knife-and-fork work. Dining out much is hard work — dreadful where a man is " cock " guest every time. Still a Master must undergo it, or the ladies won't reckon him " a nice man." If the dress uniform of the hunt is scarlet, or yellow, or orange vermillion, sky-blue, pea-green, or any other outlandish colour, " the Master " must wear it, or Mrs. Cottonwool will think herself slighted. Then, with an ostrich- feathered red and gold-spangled turban nodding over a well-oiled front, with cork-screw ringlets at the sides, Mrs. Cottonwool after having waited past all patience for the much-wished-for, but non-arriving guest, is at length led from the furniture-uncovered drawing-room by our " model of a sportsman," in all the lady-like trepidation of unaccustomed party-making. All the Bore'ems and Snore'ems, Tom Browns, and Jack Smiths of the hunt, figged out like their chief, follow in long-drawn file, whipped in to, by Cottonwool, similarly attired.
The Miss Cottonwools will be scattered down the table just as market gardeners scatter their flowers — first a rose, then a lily, then another rose, then another lily — first a foxhunter, then a lump of Cotton-
8 THE HUNTING FIELD
wool, then another foxhunter, then another lump of Cottonwool, apparently "quite promiscuous," as the servants say, but in reality with a good deal of hen Cottonwool " management." Our Cottonwools, how- ever, are not lumpy ; on the contrary, fine, full-grown, full-limbed, ripe, luscious-looking, fair-haired girls, radiant with all the accomplishments of ogling, worsted- working, dancing, and flirting. But we are leaving our Master, soup-ladle in hand, pinned on the right of ringlets, who sits telegraphing her daughters into their places, the order of march having been some- what disconcerted by the stupidity of Sam Bore'em not knowing that Robertina has been setting her cap at him for many months, and who has consequently endangered Juliana's being stuck between papa and old Mr. Pigskin, the family stop-gap, by taking out Henrietta instead of his intended, or rather, the lady who intends him. At length they all get settled into their places, with no other derangement than two of the guests getting rush-bottomed chairs which were meant for the daughters, and a room which would accommodate eight comfortably, or ten on a pinch, is now made to hold eighteen. Of course the curtains are all drawn, the shutters are shut, and there is a rousing fire. Oh, Hookey Walker ! Hookey Walker ! to what little purpose you wrote the " Original."
From eighteen take "one," says the Master in his own mind, and seventeen remain. Seventeen glasses of wine at dinner ! Awful ! Awful at any time, but doubly so when supplied by a bumper-filling clown, who will shut out the skylight, or give the objector the balance over his hand or up his sleeve. Pigskin is the only man our Master dare compound with by clubbing with another ; but then comes the question who is to be the other? and also the consideration whether it is not better to go the "entire animal," and drink with the whole — Robertina, Juliana, Henrietta, and all.
THE MASTER— MONTH, OCTOBER 9
Drinking, however, is only half his work. That is a duty he owes his host. He must eat out of compli- ment to the lady. Some ladies, too, are so uncon- scionable. The more a man eats the more they require him to eat. " Oh, you must let me send you some of this. Oh, you must take a little of that. Oh, yow must try some of t'other. You really eat nothing. Dinner eater ! I never saw such a dinner eater ! Dinner's wasted on you, however."
Kind hostess, let us say a word on behalf of our poor Master. Give what you give freely and heartily, but give your guests credit for knowing their stomachs better than you do.
What with good dinners, middling dinners, and bad dinners — what with good wine, middling wine, and bad wine — what with the room always at fever heat, have we not made out our case that a Master requires the propensities of Bacchus, with the appetite of a Dando, the digestion of an ostrich, and the fire- defying properties of a salamander, or of Monsieur Chabot, the Fire King? We think we have, even to the satisfaction of Susannah aforesaid.
Dining out is almost indispensable for a Master of Foxhounds, for the English never fancy a friendship fairly cemented until it has been riveted on the altar of the mahogany. It is convenient too, in some cases, such as hunting a distant part of the country ; besides, it makes an agreeable change, especially when the party is not composed entirely of the same people as have been " hob-a-nobbing " it at " the club " for weeks together. This is one of the mistakes non- hunting people make. They fancy that none but foxhunters will do to meet foxhunters. Our friend Cottonwool's three fair, blooming, buxom daughters make an agreeable variety ; but if " Wool " had not had them, he would have filled their places with three other "red or orange - vermillion coats," if, indeed, he had the "Master" at all, which is more
io THE HUNTING FIELD
than problematical, seeing he never had his predecessor, and always abused the hounds and all belonging to them, until his daughters were invited to the hunt ball, and he saw Henrietta in the grasp of Sir Rasper Smashgate, a hard-riding baronet, going the rounds of a waltz with all the liveliness of a waggon-wheel. " Wool " then began to mumble to himself something about "more unlikely things," "fine estate," and Mrs. Wool and he jumped to a conclusion that Wool ought to be a "sleeping partner" in the hunt, and have the Master to Fleecy Hall. The thing suited Wool's purpose, and it suits our Master's ; at least it would have done if they had not nearly roasted him alive. And here let us have a word "a la Walker" to Wool and all the sleeping partner tribe. Nay, some managing partners even may be benefited by our truisms, if they would but remember them. Have a good fire in each guest's bedroom when they arrive. People out of gigs, off coaches, out of railway trains are apt to be chilly and cold. There let them warm themselves — but remember, oh remember, that a lot of people put into one room, with lamps, candles, wittles, and waiters, will very soon cook up a devil of an atmosphere. Shutting the shutters, drawing the blinds, closing the curtains, is all very right and meritorious when you are alone; but with such a kettle of fish as we have got at "Wool's" you should take every precaution to have the room cool at starting, and to try to keep it so. A little wood fire looks lively, and soon dies out; but if it has the impudence to live, a pan of wet sand soon knocks the vital spark out of it.
But we have it not in our hearts to keep our poor Master in this atmosphere any longer. Let us suppose the agony of dinner past. Let us suppose that all has gone on smoothly and well — no soup dribbled down any one's back, no poisonous lamp expired, no tipsy cake alighted on any one's head, no squashed
THE MASTER— MONTH, OCTOBER n
blanc-mange, no pyramid of jelly toppling to its fall — nothing gone wrong, except the white jug of hot water at the side -board end upset on the third plunging of the forks and spoons, making a map of Italy on the un-Turkey-carpeted part of the floor. The Miss Wools have each plied a merry tongue, though, between ourselves, it is not exactly the way to a foxhunter's heart to interrupt him during his dinner; but of that more anon. Mrs. Wool has given the silent, significant hint — a hint more potent than the strongest lunged sergeant ever bellowed on parade — gloves, flowers, bags, handker- chiefs, fans, have been gathered together, or brought up from their respective collieries below, and our Master gladly rushes to open the door to let the well-bustled party pass.
Each man stands, and puffs and blows like a stranded grampus.
It is now Wool's turn to take our Master through his hands. One would think that Wool was Monsieur Chabot in disguise, for the first thing he says as he clutches his glass and decanter, preparatory to moving his quarters to the top of the table is, "Would you like a few more coals, Mr. Rattlecover ? " We need not add that Mr. Rattlecover declines, observing that, with Mr. Cottonwool's permission, he will change his seat away from the fire, when, like many wise men who know everything after they are told, old Wool observes that he does think the room rather warm. This brilliant discovery being universally confirmed, they forthwith proceed to the other extreme, and opening all the doors and windows, just give old ^Eolus the full swing of the apartment.
Something like a liveable atmosphere is at length procured, and the business of the evening is begun
12 THE HUNTING FIELD
by the "sleeping partner" asking some absurd questions about hunting.
Cottonwool does this from the same mistaken notion that would have induced him to ask none but foxhunters to meet a Master of Foxhounds, viz. an idea that foxhunters can only talk about foxhunting. Mistaken man ! Nine-tenths of them would rather talk about anything else. Annoying, however, as it is to hear a man talking nonsense for our accommoda- tion, calling a pack of hounds a set of dogs, a hound's stern a bushy tail, giving tongue, barking, and so on, a Master must not break out and bid him "hold his tongue for a d — d fool," as a sailor would. No, he must humour him — "sugar his milk," as a huntsman would say; for the best hounds in the world, with the " best fellow under the sun " at the head of them, are useless without foxes, and fox or no fox is the caprice of such creatures as Cottonwool. Some Cottonwools are apt to "keep the word of promise to the ear and break it to the hope," giving their keepers orders perhaps not to shoot foxes, but at the same time not to let a vixen lie up on the estate. There are many ways of preserving foxes — at all events of salving a not troublesomely fastidious conscience. If our " best fellow under the sun " suspects anything like foul play, he will lead old Wool unto the ice, get him to talk big about hunting, the pleasures of the morning, the delights of a find, the certainty of sport, the abundance of foxes — our Master slyly exclaiming to old Pigskin or any one furthest off, so that every one must hear, "Ah, Mr. Pigskin, I wish all people were like our worthy host Mr. Cottonwool ! There would be no lack of foxes — no fear of sport then." He may then observe, almost to "Wool" himself, " I'm sure all here will bear me out in saying that I always hold our excellent friend Mr. Cottonwool up as a perfect specimen of what an English gentleman ought to be." Now, that is good, wholesome, un-
THE MASTER— MONTH, OCTOBER 13
adulterated flattery — all Wool's own too, and the odds are that thinking he has not committed himself, he will retract the qualifying order about the vixens, and show himself at the next cattle-show as a perfect specimen of what an English gentleman ought to be. More people are flattered into virtue than bullied out of vice.
Toast drinking is almost exploded, but if ever it is tolerated it will surely be allowed to wash down such a pat of butter as Cottonwool has received. The way to accomplish this, of course is, for Wool to propose the Master's health — long life to him — with such other novelties as a podgey old gentleman, unaccustomed to public speaking, can accomplish; and the Master (who we premised must have a touch of Cicero), may just turn the remains of the dripping- pan of flattery over Wool's head and shoulders any way he likes. A glutton in flattery looks more to quantity than quality.
With that performance we will let the chapter's curtain drop.
CHAPTER II
adjourned debate — the master at cottonwool's
OR brevity's sake, we will condense the proceed- ings of the evening into the potted-game sort of style some ingenious gentlemen about the House of Commons adopt towards the windy proceedings therein, for the accommodation of political club lobbies.
We don't print ours in columns, because it
is not convenient. We hope the omission will not be
considered a breach of privilege.
Eight o'clock. — Cottonwool returns thanks for the honour they have done him in drinking his health, etc. ; drinks all theirs ; port and claret ordered. — Observations. Party quite sober. Pigskin asleep.
Half-past Eight. — Host gives "Success to fox- hunting." Bumper toast. Pigskin accused of taking 3. back hand; Pig replies; division; 13 to 1, Pigskin voting; ordered, "song or salt and water;" song pre-
14
THE MASTER AT COTTONWOOL'S 15
ferred ; " We won't go home till morning ; " more port — two bottles this time. — Observations. Party merry ; Pigskin half-cocked; Sam Bore'em nodding; host speaking thick.
Nine o'clock. — " Chair ! chair ! " Host proposes " Master's health " again, assuring him that Fleecy Hall covers shall never be drawn blank ; amendment by Pigskin, " That the toast be drunk with three times three ; " carried nem. con. ; drunk ; moved by Tom Lax, and "one cheer more" given; port and claret — 2 and 1. — Observations. Party noisy; room hot; gentlemen's waistcoats loose.
Quarter-past Nine. — Master returns thanks again ; proposes a bumper toast ; no heel-taps ; " The Ladies ! " three times three, and one, etc. — Observations. Very merry; Pigskin three parts drunk ; Master half-cocked ; Sam Bore'em asleep.
Let us now suppose it half-past nine, and that Mrs. Cottonwool and daughters, having got them- selves cooled, have lit their " Brecknell and Turners'," shaken out their feathers, and taken positions best calculated for capturing their respective prey as they enter the drawing-room. And here we may pay the " deferred " annuity of information we promised our fair friends, as they left the dining-room. It is this : — A man is much easier come over when half-mellow, than when half-fed. We observed, with sorrow, not altogether unmingled with anger, that you pestered your next door neighbours with your pleasantries when they had their mouths full. Nay, we caught Robertina interrupting hers in the middle of a glass of champagne ! All this is very wrong. Our Master will tell you that he never speaks to his hounds so long as they will hunt. So you, on your parts, should never speak to a foxhunter so long as he will feed. It is all very well for you ladies who dine at luncheon time to trifle with the golden
16 THE HUNTING FIELD
moments of dinner, but it is serious work with a half-famished sportsman, especially with the pace nervous servants of all work go on these occasions. Besiege your men at tea. That is your time. You may offer them a cup of coffee, but you can't ask them to take wine. Of course you have a piano in the room. Music is a great assistance in love-making. Its noise keeps whispers where they should be, and though you are all very jealous of the time lost in playing, yet if you have a fine arm and tolerable execution, we don't know but you may be doing more business with your fingers than you would with your tongue and eyes. At all events, sisters can arrange to relieve each other, on the " now thou, now me, now both together," principle. " Music," some amiable gentleman writes, " has charms to soothe the savage breast." God forbid that it should not have the same influence upon sportsmen ! And here we may observe that, though foxhunters may not be men of many words, what they do say is generally to the purpose. " Isn't this," as Beckford would say, " far better than the eternal babbling of unsteady puppies ? Puppies who merely babble to lead the ladies astray, to
' Love again, and be again undone.'"
There's Henrietta's friend Smashgate, for instance — we beg pardon, Sir Rasper Smashgate — we will stake our literary reputation that a squeeze, a good squeeze from the Smashgate hand at bed-time, would mean more than an hour and a half s blather from young Fribbleton Brown, about roses and lilies, and love in a cottage, hearts, darts, Cupids, and the whole mint of matrimonial small coin.
We would almost excuse Henrietta if she presented herself to mamma as " Lady Smashgate," on reaching the landing. "What, has he offered to you?" old Turban would exclaim. " No, mar, but he squeezed
THE MASTER AT COTTONWOOL'S 17
my hand as he gave me the candle." "Silly girl," Mrs. Cottonwool would reply, in a pet — not knowing the nature of the animal — " many squeezes go to an offer." Were we a girl, however, matrimonially in- clined— which they all are, unless bespoke — we would rather have a squeeze of the hand from Smashgate than a black and white offer from Fribbleton Brown. Spite of what old mother Cottonwool says, we will lay "copious odds" — as old Crockey used to say, that she would give old Caudle Cottonwool a hint that things were "going on right," and take all the credit to herself too. Cruel Smashgate, however, has not come.
While nibbing our pen, we have been casting about to see if we could recollect any instance, among our numerous acquaintance, of a bad foxhunter husband, and we are happy to say we have drawn the cover blank. We have, to be sure, fallen in with fellows in red coats, who have been anything but what they ought, but we can conscientiously say that we have never known any man worthy the name of a sports- man, who was not a good fellow. Indeed, were we a young lady, we would pick a foxhunter for prefer- ence. Their coats may not be quite so glittering as the laced jacket of a soldier, nor may they be quite such good hands at dancing the polka, but, for the real steady comfort and enjoyment of life they beat them by chalks. Besides, war's alarms are trying, soldiers are very apt to shut up shop when they get married ; and, if they don't, why even a child tires of looking at the same dressed doll.
A pleasant poet, whose name we forget — indeed we are not quite sure that we ever had the pleasure of his personal acquaintance — wrote something about something, and
" Unclouded ray,
Making to-morrow pleasant as to-day." 2
18 THE HUNTING FIELD
The compliment, we believe, was turned for the ladies, but we are going to " diwide it," as the dentist said, when he threw the bucket of dirty water over the blind fiddlers.
We should say, that a foxhunter and his wife can not only make to-morrow cheerful as to-day, but they can make winter as pleasant as summer — that is to say, if they go the right way to work.
Even in sweethearting a foxhunter is worth a dozen such fellows as Fribbleton Brown — fellows who hang about a drawing-room all the morning, fumbling in women's workbags, stealing their thimbles, and stop- ping their worsted work. Women like to have men "in tow," no doubt, but they don't like to have fellows lying "at them" all day, like terriers at fox- earths. The foxhunter goes out to " fresh fields and pastures new," hears all the news, the fun, the non- sense, the gossip of the world. His mind's enlarged, his spirits raised, his body refreshed, and he comes back full of life and animation. If he has had a good run, and been carried to his liking, his harvest- moon heart loves all the world. He'll do anything short of accepting a bill of exchange. Our esteemed friend, the author of the " Pleasures of Hope," albeit no sportsman, or at least not a master of hounds, shadowed out the feelings of a sportsman, and of a sportsman's lady-love, when he sung
" Who that would ask a heart to dulness wed, The waveless calm, the slumber of the dead? No ; the wild bliss of nature needs alloy ! And falls and tumbles fan the fire of joy ! "
We are not quite sure that "falls and tumbles" are the words he used; perhaps not. They savour of tautology, but again that looks more like a non-sports- man, as Campbell was. Be that as it may, they suit our purpose. There is no doubt, however, that the roughings, and scramblings, and wettings and rollings,
THE MASTER AT COTTONWOOL'S 19
and muddings of the morning, all tend to make a man enjoy the comforts of home and the pleasure of female society in the evening : —
" Domus et placens uxor." " Thy home, and in the cup of life, That honey-drop, thy pleasing wife,"
as those few Latin words have been skilfully rendered by some talented linguist, with the skill of our friend, Bob Chalkup, the milkman, who can make a quart of milk out of a pint, but to make the foregoing fine jingle of words run right for the foxhunter, the "placens uxor" should always have breakfast ready in good time, and plenty of lambs' wool and fleecy hosiery before the fire, against her swain comes home. Confound it, there are very few of those sort of "uxors" now-a-days. Old Mrs. Pigskin is the only one we know of, but she belongs to a generation far removed in the distance. She can't work pheasants in floss silk ! Some old sour grapers object to fox- hunters, because they sometimes take a nap after dinner. Suppose they do, what then? They most likely have said their say, and surely it's far better for a man to go to sleep than to talk nonsense, or say the same thing over and over again. Take our advice, fair ladies. If it should ever be your luck to have to choose between a foxhunter and a fiddler — which latter comprises all people who are not fox- hunters — choose the foxhunter. Not one of your pretty fellows, who come home clean and unspecked by luncheon time, but a regular sport-loving cock, who would rather lose his dinner than the end of a run. Don't mind what spiteful old maids say about their habits and propensities. If you wait till you get a man whom all the world will praise, you'll remain single to the end of the chapter.
The young lady of forty's reply, that a bad husband was a deal better than none, was a very sensible
20
THE HUNTING FIELD
observation, though totally inapplicable to fox- hunters.
But we are writing a chapter for chaperones rather than an essay on a " Master of Hounds." Farewell fair Miss Cottonwools ; ere spring returns, may we read your names in the list of — you know what.
Good morning, Mrs. Cottonwool, and thanks for your hospitality. Good morning, Mr. Cottonwool, and thanks to you also.
Perhaps, however, having got so wide of the mark, we had better let the curtain down again, and resume " The Master " with a fresh chapter.
i mm
CHAPTER III
the master — continued
HE great Masters of an- tiquity, if we may so call them — Meynell, Beck- ford, Corbet, Lee An- thone, John Warde, Ralph Lambton, and so on — have been de- scribed as paragons of politeness as well as models of keenness. We doubt not they were, but we have as good gentlemen now-a-days, though the Grandison style is somewhat relaxed. The fact is, a man won't do for a Master of Hounds unless he is a gentleman. Wealth, birth, keenness, all combined, won't do unless he has that indescribable quality which may be best denned as a sincere desire to please, with a nervous dread of saying or doing anything that may hurt the feelings of another. Some men may go blundering and bullying on to be sure, by mere dint of purse, but it is a weary up-hill game, generally wearing them out at last, as it has worn out their followers.
We cannot help thinking that one of the mistakes of the day is that of making too much of a busi- ness of hunting. Hence we have nervous, irritable Masters, who are a nuisance to themselves and to
22 THE HUNTING FIELD
every one they come thwart of. If a shooter was to make himself as unhappy about a bad day's sport as some foxhunters do, what a booby we should think him. "Better luck next time," is a fine consoling axiom, cheering alike to the foxhunter, the gunner, and the fisherman. Foxhunting is but a species of game, and whether a fox is killed, or a fox is lost, or a fox is mobbed, or a fox is earthed, makes no difference in the balance at the banker's — that con- verging point to which so many anxious earthly hopes turn.
Gentlemen, when they begin to do a thing, are very apt to do too much. They think if they take the Mastership of hounds that they must slave and toil like servants. Then we have a lot of babblement about "science," "condition," "generative economy," "iEthiop's mineral," and we don't know what. Can science make a scent? "Kennel management," and all that sort of thing, is very necessary ; but experi- ence proves that a man may be a first-rate sports- man without troubling himself about minutiae. Mr. Masters, if we mistake not, was no great kennelman, and we should like to have a look at any one with the boldness to deny his prowess in the field. The best gentleman-huntsman of the present day never feeds his hounds. We have even known paid hunts- men who never saw their's except in the hunting field.
The well bred hound — the well bred sporting dog of any sort — will always leave the man who feeds it for the man who shows it sport.
All economists, political ones and all, agree in the inexpediency of keeping a dog and barking one's- self ; neither is it of any use a Master keeping servants and doing their work. The more trouble a man takes the more anxious he gets, and the more he expects ; hence a great deal of that nervous irrita- bility in the hunting field which is almost its only
THE MASTER 23
bane. Take it easy ! Take it easy ! " Better luck next time," say we.
To suppose that a man can be Master of a pack of hounds, and not feel differently when things go on smoothly and well to what he does when they all go crooked and wrong, is either to suppose that he is ignorant of what he professes to direct, or has feelings and passions different from other people. It is the mode of conducting himself under the circumstances, the language made use of, the manner, time, and style of the reproof that constitutes the difference between the "best fellow under the sun," and the "nastiest brute going."
The old Masters, if history is to be credited, in- dulged in the innuendo, or suaviter in modo style of rebuke rather than in the " d — n your eyes " fortiter in re one. Thus Mr. Meynell, in reply to a persecut- ing over-rider, who would argue that he was right, would bow and smilingly say, " You may be perfectly right, sir, and I quite wrong, but there is gross ignorance on one side or the other." Even this sort of rebuke he did not care to repeat, generally the telling the man a second time that he was incorrigible, and it was no use admonishing him. Notwithstand- ing all his politeness, however, we are told that Mr. Meynell's indignation in the field was sometimes excessive, frequently expressed by looks, sometimes by deputies, but still, when by words, he never degene- rated into rudeness. Mr. Corbet was a somewhat similar character. A gentleman killed him a hound one day. He saw who did it, but, instead of attack- ing the delinquent point blank, he trotted past him, saying, "They've killed me a favourite hound, sir ; you don't happen to know who did it, do you ? " On another occasion he just dropped into the delinquent's ear, en passant, "Killed the best hound in the pack, that's all." He caught a gentleman hunting the hounds one day, " Thank you, sir," exclaimed Mr.
24 THE HUNTING FIELD
Corbet coming on him unawares; "thank you, sir," repeated he, "but my hounds will do that quite as well without you"
How different to the language of a certain duke under similar circumstances ! " Who the hell are you, sir?" exclaimed his grace, coming on an un- fortunate wight, hat in hand, capping the hounds.
" And who the hell are you ? " replied the stranger, a captain in the sea service.
"They commonly call me the Duke of ,"
rejoined his grace, adding, "Now, sir, there are the hounds, hunt them, and be d — d to you."
Talking of sailors, reminds us of an amusing account given by Nimrod of a certain nautical M.P. and ex-master of foxhounds' mode of addressing a constituent in the field. " Come here, you ten-pound radical rascal and open this gate." Here is another. A few years back an action was brought by a sailor against a captain of a merchant-man, for ill-usage, when it appearing to be but the second time of "asking," the judge was curious to know Jack's reasons for sailing again with so inhuman a captain.
"Why, please your honour," said Jack, hitching up his trousers, " I war'nt for sailin with him again, but I couldn't help it ; the captain has such win?ii?ig ways with him."
" Winning ways," observed his lordship, " what do you mean by winning ways?" "Why, please my Lord," resumed Jack, " the captain comes alongside me, on the quay, slaps me on the back and says, ' What ! Jack, you ill-looking, blear-eyed, squinting scoundrel, arn't you going to sail along with me ? ' " Jack couldn't resist so touching an appeal.
Beckford gives an amusing account of a Master, whose blowings up combined the " suaviter in modo " with the il for titer in re"
"An acquaintance of mine," writes he, "a good sportsman, but a very warm one, when he sees the
THE MASTER 25
company pressing too close upon his hounds, begins crying out, as loud as he can, hold hard I If any one should persist after that, he begins moderately at first, and says, " I beg, sir, you will stop your horse : Pray, sir, stop ; God bless you, sir, stop ; God d — ?i your blood, sir, stop your horse ! "
Mr. Vyner, in his very able work, "Notitia Venatica," gives the following amusing account of Mr. Nichol, better known as Sam Nichol, in the blowing-up line.
When Mr. Nichol first took the New Forest, he was desperately annoyed by some of the attendants on his hounds, and after vainly begging and beseech- ing several of the hard-riders, who were wantonly pressing on the pack, to desist, he at length launched out in no measured terms, to the utter astonishment of one unfortunate wight, who claimed the privilege of exhibiting himself, on the plea of being a committee man. "The committee be d — d," replied Nichol, " you are not worth d — ing singly, so I'll d — n you all in a lump."
Mr. Smith in his " Diary of a Huntsman," recom- mends the indirect or at them, rather than the to them style of rating, such as "Hold hard; pray black horse hold hard ! "
The renowned Mr. Jorrocks was doubtless a disciple of Mr. Smith's, for he carried the advice out to the letter, and a little beyond — ex : gra : " Old ard, you air dresser, on the chesnut oss ! " " Hair dresser, sir ! I am an officer in the 91st Regiment." "Then you hossifer in the 91st Regiment, wot looks like an air dresser, old ard," rejoined Mr. Jorrocks, trotting on.
But enough of bullying, scolding, and riot act reading, — ungracious work at best, and only to be excused under the plea of the infirmities of poor human nature. When the boiler of poor human nature's indignation is insufficient to hold all her steam, let us beseech the owner to get rid of his
26
THE HUNTING FIELD
superfluous stock all at once. Let the Master, in fact, say his say and be done, but don't let him incur the censure the nigger passed on his Master, who having flogged him well, began to preach after. — "Floggey, floggey, or preachey, preachey, massa; but no both floggey and preachey." Blow up and be done, but don't blow up, and keep "knagging" all the rest of the day.
Remember, if the fault is a flagrant one the field will go with the Master. Their sport is at stake as well as his, but coarse language always disgusts, and the edge of severity is blunted by repetition.
"OLD ARD, YOU AIR DRESSER ON THE CHESNUT OSS
CHAPTER IV
the master — concluded
N dealing with this scribble- ment, we have treated our " Master " more as a Master than as one of those " rare birds," a Master and huntsman combined. True it is, that in our specifica- tion of requirements we lumped the offices, but that was done to show what a " monster of perfection " a gentleman-huntsman ought to be. Dis-Siamese the characters, and we have enough in that of " Master " for all ordinary capacities. Doubt- less, in our long life, we have seen many eminent men in duplicate — Darlington, Ducie, Foljambe, Lambton, Musters, Graham, GifTord, Sutton, Osbal- deston, Elcho, Nicholl, Kintore, Newman, Templer, Tatchel, and, though last not least, those mighty fox foes, who have shed renown on the some- what common name of Smith; but placing the question on its own comprehensive stern, we are very much of the opinion of Beckford, who says, that it is an undertaking which, in a general way, had better be "let alone."
27
28 THE HUNTING FIELD
" It is your opinion, I find," writes Mr. Beckford, and we trust all the foregoing great sportsmen will excuse the freedom with which we have written their names, " It is your opinion, I find," writes Mr. Beck- ford, " that a gentleman might make the best hunts- man ; I have no doubt that he would, if he chose the trouble of it."
It is just the " trouble " that chokes people off half the projects and enterprizes of life. If it wasn't the trouble, and perhaps a leetle the fear of Mr. Hard wick, we would give that confounded organ-grinder, who has just struck up under our window, for the third time this morning, an uncommon good quilting, but as it is, we will just sit still and let him grind himself out.
Thank God, he's gone at last, though he has sorely put us out. Let us see what was it we were writing about. Oh, we have it — gentlemen-huntsmen and paid-huntsmen. Well, our next sketch shall be that of a paid " Huntsman," a jolly black-capped, red- faced, purple-lapped huntsman; meanwhile we will glance at the other duties of a " Master," lest the non- hunting portion of the community may suppose "blowing out" and "blowing up" are the only qualifications requisite for one.
For the benefit of embryo gentlemen-huntsmen, we may, however, quote what Colonel Cook wrote on the subject in his "Observations on Foxhunting" — an able work written by a practical sportsman, and published some twenty years ago — " Gentlemen," says he, "should recollect, let their situation in life be ever so exalted, if they condescend to hunt their own hounds, that when in the field they are huntsmen ; a huntsman is a public character, and as such is liable to have remarks and criticisms made by the field (who it is always to be remembered are but lookers on, and as such are apt to flatter themselves they know as much
THE MASTER 29
of the game as the actual player) and to be spoken to by farmers and others on the occurrences which commonly happen in the day's hunting; if things go on well, and the sport is good, the Master of the pack is no doubt the person most pleased, feeling conscious that his exertions contribute much to the amusement of the day; and there is certainly no pleasure more gratifying to ourselves than that of pleasing others. On the contrary, if everything should go on untowardly, which will frequently happen on a bad scenting day, he ought to be mindful that the field likewise participates in his disappointment."
Now for the other qualifications we dotted down in our first paper : —
The generalship of a Master consists in making the most of a country, and the greatest use of his friends. We don't mean to say he is to borrow money or horses of them, but he should urge each individual to put his shoulder stoutly to the wheel to promote the general interest in his particular locality. Thompson's woodman can make up a gap in a cover without trouble or expense ; but if the Master has to send a man half-a-dozen or a dozen miles to do it, why there's a day's work. Wise Masters, however, will have nothing to do with covers. They will leave them to the management of those whom Mr. Nichol d — d in the aggregate.
Diplomacy, a genteel term for "humbugging," is an essential requisite for a Master of Foxhounds. A Master, like ^Esop's hare, has generally "many friends," some of whom will advise him diametrically the reverse on the same point. Is it not diplomacy to make each believe you intend doing as he advises, and yet have your own way after all ? The necessity for a Master combining the liberality of a sailor with his other qualifications, is sufficiently illustrated in the following observation of Lord Petre, then Master
30 THE HUNTING FIELD
of a first-rate establishment, to Mr. Delme Ratcliffe, when about to take the Hertfordshire hounds : — "Remember, however," added his lordship, after going through a recapitulation of the hundreds — "Remember, however, that, after all this, you will never have your hand out of your pocket, and must always have a guinea in it."
Decision is an indispensable requisite both for "Master" and huntsman. It should be quick as thought; and when once taken, adhered to, unless very cogent reasons appear to the contrary. On this point, perhaps, we cannot do better than quote Colonel Cook. "To hunt a country, and to make the most of it, so as to give general satisfaction, requires some consideration. Supposing you have a thorough knowledge of it, use your own judgment, and never be led by others, for you will find they have most commonly some selfish motives, and will often mislead you. It is a common case," says he, "for a Master of hounds to be requested to draw such and such a covert,1 merely because it may happen to accommodate some of the gentlemen out, by lying on their way home ; now if an acquiescence in this should cause no inconvenience or material alteration in the arrangements made for the day, it may be all very well to do what you can to oblige any particular person or set of men out ; but it should nevertheless be remembered by all the field, that as people are in the habit of coming great distances in every direction, to the point where the hounds meet in the morning, by thus acceding to the wishes of a few you are likely to inconvenience many; besides the probability of occasioning yourself, servants, hounds, and horses (should the draw be from home instead of towards it) to remain out late in a wet December night, without even the moon or stars to guide you. Some men will mislead you to avoid 1 This chap puts in a " t." — Printer's Devil.
THE MASTER 31
having their coverts disturbed, fearing a tame pheasant may fly away to his neighbour's preserves. After all, it is best to be firm, and never change the plan of drawing which you have fixed upon and considered to be the most probable one for sport.
" A country ought to be regularly hunted, the good and the bad alternately, to give general satisfaction, and in the long run you will have a better chance of sport. If you are continually disturbing your best country you may have blank days, and the foxes will be very shy ; where there are many earths they will lay at ground. There can be no doubt but it must be more agreeable to hunt a good country always, if you have extent enough for an open season. Pro- vided you cannot hunt the inferior one, so as to give satisfaction, it is more liberal to give it up altogether to some neighbouring pack, or even to some one from a distance, who might be glad to hunt it regularly. The keeping a country, or requiring owners of covers to preserve, without hunting it, is too much to expect, and gives people an oppor- tunity of alluding to the story of the dog in the manger."
Mr. Pryse Pryse, an old Master, summed up the relative duties of himself and field very ably, in the following words, at a dinner given him by the Gog- gerdan Hunt, some years since: — "As a Master of Hounds," said he, " I have many things to expect. I have a right to expect a strict preservation of foxes from every one. I have a right to expect old foxes, and also a strict preservation of cubs; for, without young foxes, the stock cannot be kept up, and blank days will be the result." [Mr. Pryse Pryse would seem to have been hitting at some of the Cottonwool tribe.]
" On the other hand," continues he, " you have a right to expect from me the most polite attention in the field, and out of the field, to expect a correct
32 THE HUNTING FIELD
announcement of all the meets ; in fact you have a right to expect me to hunt the country, not for my own convenience, but to the satisfaction and amuse- ment of others."
Some people, we may observe, are very difficult to please, and very unreasonable in their expectations about hunting, especially on the point of hounds going out without due notice. Nothing can be more absurd, for any one who has watched the weather and localities, must be aware that, during the ticklish part of the season, hounds can often hunt in one part of a country and not in another, and that "hunt" or " no hunt " is sometimes the work of one capricious hour. When the electric telegraph is established throughout the country, out-lying gentlemen will have a better chance of being communicated with, but even then we question whether any of the grumblers will come or not. As things stand, parties nearest the kennel have the best chance, and properly so. Some people are as difficult to please about their hunting as the soldier was about his flogging.
Mr. Beckford appears to have been clear both of subscribers, clubs, committees, and all the modern paraphernalia of the chase, most likely paying every- thing himself, and accommodating such sportsmen as chose to come to him on his own terms. At all events his book is silent on the management of a country, as it is called, though he makes a distinction between managing a pack of hounds and hunting them. On the former point he says : " Some art may be necessary to make the most of the country that you hunt. I would advise you not to draw the covers near your house while you can find elsewhere ; it will make them certain places to find in when you go out late, or may otherwise be in want of them. For the same reason, I would advise you not to hunt those covers late in the season. They should not be much disturbed after Christmas. Foxes will then
THE MASTER
33
resort to them, will breed there, and you can preserve them with little trouble."
We have heard various opinions as to the best man to hunt a country, some advocating native Masters, others contending that strangers are the best. It is a point on which much may be said on both sides, though the great question hinges on the style of man himself. Perhaps it may not be an unfair pro- position to lay down, that a popular resident gentle- man is most likely to be agreeable to the farmers, while a sportsman of established reputation and station may unite the whole foxhunting force, and prevent the petty jealousies that sometimes arise when a Master is drawn from the " body of the county," as they say of a jury. Farmers will put up with a great deal from a man they know. It is " stranger damage " they object to — townsmen's particularly, not one in ten knowing what they are riding over. " A lord," we may add, is a trump card anywhere.
If we thought a Mastership and the duties of hunts- man too much for one man, what shall we say to the triplicate character of a Master supported by subscrip- tion and hunting the hounds ? We think we may say that a successful one is little short of a miracle, an eighth wonder of the world, at all events. We all know the ease and readiness with which people find fault. Hunting critics, like Lord Byron's reviewing ones, "are ready made ;" and some think it necessary to censure, just as others think it right to halloo, according to the amount of their subscriptions. Nay, we have heard of men censuring to escape subscribing, just as skinflint travellers used to pick holes with guards and coachmen, to escape paying them. The "hallooing and hunting tariff" was thus laid down by Nimrod some years ago, and as no mention has been made of it in any of Sir Robert Peel's new ones, we suppose it remains the same, viz., the man who sub- scribes twenty-five pounds a-year may halloo once, 3
34 THE HUNTING FIELD
fifty twice ; but, if he give a hundred, he may halloo all day long.
Hunt subscriptions are as difficult to realise as the assets of a bankrupt tommy shopkeeper. Unless there is a huge nest egg to start with, it is weary up- hill work trying to keep a pack of hounds by what the hospital people call "voluntary contributions." Voluntary contributions, forsooth ! We read in the " Old Sporting Magazine," that, at a fashionable Spa, a poor laundress had been mulct of her few shillings towards the keep of what brought the white breeches to her tub. This is not as it should be. Much as we desire to uphold hunting, yet we must advocate its support on proper gentlemanly principles. Better knock-off a day a-week than resort to such means. If such expedients are had recourse to, at idle, money- spending watering-places, what can we expect from the hard money-getting penury of the country.
Some people may suppose that a Mastership of Hounds is fulfilled with the mere home and field management, but such is very far from being the case. A Master of Hounds exercises no small influence on the manners, wre might almost say, the morals of a country, as well by his own example as by the style of people his management brings about him. Man- kind are prone to imitation — young men, especially ; and a Master of Hounds is of all others the most likely for them to look up to.
" He who excels in what we prize, Appears a hero in our eyes."
If the Master is what may be termed a show fox- hunter — a dandified petit maitre — he will have every chance of making the field the same, for many will be glad to add what we may call the "impotence of dress " to the general attractions of the red coat. If the Master is a coarse, swearing, overbearing fellow, his companions will be the same ; for there is no
THE MASTER 35
truer saying, than that "birds of a feather flock together," and none but blackguards will put up with one ; but if our Master is what a Master ought to be — a high-minded, liberal, gentlemanly man, affable with his equals, courteous to all, keen without pedantry, neat without puppyism — he will not only raise the character of foxhunting generally, but will exercise a most wholesome influence on the minds and manners of the rising generation within his own peculiar sphere. And this leads us to observe, that there is not, perhaps, in the whole range of the duties of a Master, an act admitting of such graceful compliments as the judicious presentation of the brush. It is in trifles such as this that tact and gentlemanly feeling are shown. If a lady, Henrietta Cottonwool, for instance, is out looking after Smashgate, the flattering trophy, of course will be hers. If not, the claims of the rising genera- tion may be considered. The younger the recipient the greater the charm. "My first brush" is a recol- lection that will survive the more important features of life. A stranger may be complimented. "That brush was given me by the 'best fellow under the sun,' after a good hour and twenty minutes, finding at Waterloo Gorse, in the Harborough country, and running right up into the heart of Leicestershire," is a fine speech for a Devonshire sportsman to make to his provincial friends, as they sit sipping their port and toasting their toes over the fire, on whose ancient mantel-piece the proud trophy is stuck. The pads, too, may be turned to account in the way of minor compliments. Some men keep pad-deries.
Hunt dinners are nasty things, but upon the whole, perhaps, they are advisable. If men ever have their purses in their pockets — a problem that we almost doubt with regard to some of the community — it will most likely be at "a hand in the pocket" dinner, as hunt ones invariably are, and an " insinuating " secretary may cajole reluctant sovereigns from those
36 THE HUNTING FIELD
whom no penny postage efforts would move. Wonder- ful world this ! Men talk of their thousands, from whom it is easier to extract an eye-tooth than a sove- reign.
In speaking of a " hunt dinner," we mean one of those general hawls, that are meant to include "all the world and his wife," every one friendly to fox- hunting, and not the ordinary mess of sportsmen at their own wine depot. The latter are generally very pleasant meetings, especially when divested of form, speechifying, health-drinking, and so on. Toasts should never be resorted to so long as men can talk. They are sure to bring conversation to a check. But to business. We have had our Master in Cottonwool's domestic circle, we must now transport him to a worse scene — a hunt dinner at a country inn — " time being called," as Nimrod says in the Quarterly — "say a quarter to six — nearly our great-grandfather's supper- hour," sundry boors in boots, and sundry boots in shoes, are seen wending their ways in charge of sundry buckets of soup, roasts and boils, sirloins, saddles, rounds, geese, sucking pig, a haunch of venison, game, tarts, celery, etc. By the time the odd quarter of an hour has elapsed they have got them set square on the table, and all having cooled alike, " the Master," who sometimes plays the double part of "host" and " cock guest," leads the way from the travellers' room, where the company have been deposited in the enjoy- ment of damp great coats and stale smoke, followed by all the " train band bold," who forthwith commence a desperate onslaught on the wittles.
But our humane disposition shrinks from describing the horrors of the evening — the hot wine and cold soup — the fatless venison and the gravy-congealed mutton. Taking old Cottonwool's for the alternative, we may truly say "the last state of this Master is worse than the first." Wool's had the redeeming quality of women — here it is all men. Instead of first
THE MASTER 37
a foxhunter, then a lump of Cottonwool, etc., it is foxhunter and " prefer ea nihil." The only variety is here and there a stranger, or man in morning's black coat dotted in among the orange vermillion ones of the hunt. A wretched old hack song, sung by a man with a spavin'd voice and a desperate running at the nose, is all we have in lieu of the vigorous but not unpleasant playing of the Miss Cottonwools. But we are getting in advance of the evening ; for though we spared the dinner we must have the speech. " Brief let it be," as old Hamlet — not the jeweller — but the
ghost of that name said. Yarn spinning is only for harehunters. The best speech we ever read, was one of the late Lord Kintore's, delivered on the presenta- tion of a piece of plate. A " Ciceronian Master " will easily adapt it to a " health," returning one for himself. " Gentlemen," said his lordship, " I hardly know how to thank you for this totally uncalled for, and most unmerited mark of your friendship towards me. If, during the dull winter months, the foxhounds have shown you any sport, it has been owing to your individual exertions in having preserved the foxes, in
38 THE HUNTING FIELD
having cut rides, etc., in your covers, with, I trust and hope I may add the goodwill of the tenantry to boot, that has enabled me to show you sport. To you both I return my hearty thanks. But to you, gentlemen, here present, in particular, I cannot sufficiently express how much I appreciate this kindness, and can now only beg you to accept the humble but grateful thanks of an individual whose soul from his cradle has been rivetted to the chase, and who will ever hold fast, until the earth receives him, this distinguished token of your goodwill. Gentlemen, I have the honour to drink your good healths, sincerely wishing from my heart, that unanimity, good-fellowship, and foxhunting, may long flourish, in this northern, but, most hospitable 'land of cakes.'"
That's a true sportsman's speech ! Woe with the day that took so good a Master from among us !
CHAPTER V
THE HUNTSMAN A huntsman's fame rises and falls with the sport he shows."
F we take the whole range of servitude, we shall not find any more de- serving of encourage- ment than huntsmen and kennel servants generally. There are none more respectable in their conduct, none more energetic in their calling, none more faith- ful to their employers, and none more obliging to the world at large.
A huntsman occupies a somewhat middle station in society, veering between equality and servitude. To a certain extent a huntsman must be the companion and confidant of the " Master," a feeling that generally extends itself to the hunting field. Indeed, it is impossible not to feel a more than ordinary interest for men imbued with the same passion, trans- ported by the same pleasures, and daily hazarding life and limb in the furtherance of our enjoyments. Doubly strong it is when the object is connected with our earliest recollections and associations. Beckford,
*fettS*«&Sg
4o THE HUNTING FIELD
that great sporting luminary, without whose book we "little goes" would get badly on, thus "endeavours," as he says, to describe what a good Huntsman ought to be. "He should," says he, "be young, strong, active, bold, and enterprising ; fond of the diversion, and indefatigable in the pursuit of it ; he should be sensible and good-tempered ; he ought also to be sober; he should be exact, civil, and cleanly; he should be a good horseman and a good groom ; his voice should be strong and clear ; and he should have an eye so quick as to perceive which of the hounds carries the scent, when all are running; and should have so excellent an ear as always to distinguish the foremost hounds when he does not see them; he should be quiet, patient, and without conceit. Such are the excellencies which constitute a good hunts- man ; he should not, however, be too fond of display- ing them, till necessity calls them forth. He should let his hounds alone, whilst they can hunt, and he should have genius to assist them when they cannot."
We think Mr. Beckford has left but little unsaid in his catalogue of qualifications, though many of them hinge on the first one, that of "youth." Doubtless, perpetual evergreenism is a most desirable thing, and in engaging a Huntsman, perhaps a Master of Hounds would hesitate ere he took one in the decline of life; but, still, something | should be allowed for experience, and a Master should bear in mind the many remarkable men we have seen, some of whom combatted not only with age but with weight.
Who can forget jolly old RorTey, that Surrey trump, or Stephen Goodall, in Oxfordshire, men who were loads for dray horses ; or, in point of years, old Ben Jennings, in Dorsetshire, with his silvery locks ; or Will Neverd, Mr. Warde's old Huntsman, who took a fresh place at seventy ; or old Tom Rose, the late Duke of Grafton's Huntsman, who hunted the hounds till near eighty ; or Winter, with Mr. Lambton ; or
THE HUNTSMAN 41
Dick Forster, Mr. Villebois's old Huntsman, reckoned the best woodland one of the day ; or Oldacre, with the Berkeley; or Lambert, with Lord Lonsdale: or old Tom Leedham, with Mr. Meynell, or Mr. Meynell Ingram, as he is now called; and doubtless many others, whose names do not occur at this moment to our recollection ?
Some of the best men of recent times are on the wrong side of fifty — Goosey, Sebright, Shirley, Williamson, Walker, Burton, and, if we mistake not, Will Long. Davis, too, the Queen's huntsman, is advancing, and Tom Hill must be getting on, both in beef and age, but no one can do the trick like Tom on the Surrey hills. He ought to be called Lord Hill.
Mr. Smith, late Master of the Pytchley and Craven Hunts, thus sums up his list of requisites for a Huntsman in his "Diary of a Huntsman." "To be perfect," says he, "a Huntsman should possess the following qualifications : — Health, memory, decision, temper and patience, voice and sight, courage and spirits, perseverance, activity ; and with these he will soon make a bad pack a good one. If quick, he will make a slow pack quick ; if slow, he will make a quick pack slow."
The following capital advice cannot perhaps be more seasonably introduced than at the present moment : —
"But first, to become a good one he must have a fair chance," says Mr. Smith, "and should not be interfered with by any one after he leaves the place of meeting; previous to which, on all occasions, it would be best if the Master of hounds was to arrange with him which covers should be drawn first, etc. It rarely happens that two men think exactly alike, and unless he is capable of judging for himself after the above arrangement (which had much better be done over night) the Master is to blame in keeping him ; but
42 THE HUNTING FIELD
if he is capable, the Master is to blame by interfering ; for, consequently, the man will be ever thinking — what does Master think? and will not gain that independence of thought and action so necessary to be a match for a fox on most occasions ; for instance, at a check there are many apparently trifling ideas and thoughts in a Huntsman's head, which he cannot explain to his Master, if asked why he does this or that; but, instead of answering, drops his bridle hand and listens to his Master, although he has made observations of trifles which are often all he has for his guidance, and frequently are sufficient to recover his fox ; but probably no other person noticed them — such as this : The pack is running best pace ; he sees one hound turn his head, and fling to the right or left a pace or two. Shortly after there is a check (say 500 yards) ; when he has made the usual casts he recollects the hound turning his head, and then goes back so far, and hits off the scent ; but he could or could not tell any one why he was going back. It is such like trifling observations that Huntsmen profit by, though unnoticed by others.
It is the want of decision that makes committees such deplorable things. There is so much hesitation, so much stopping, so much debating, so much chopping and changing, that the indecision of the Masters communicates itself to the field. We never see a lot of committee-men clubbing heads with the Huntsman without being tempted to ask for the " ballot-box." Give us a good absolute monarchy ! None of your three or four Kings of Brentford, all smelling at the same nosegay ! Gentlemen who navigate the Thames cannot fail to have observed a notice "not to speak to the man at the wheel," and in addition to the excellent hint Mr. Smith gives to "Masters," it would be very desirable to inculcate some such precept as the steam-boat one upon the field at large. A Huntsman, at all events, after he
THE HUNTSMAN 43
leaves the meet, has something else to do than receive and exchange the compliments of the morning, talk of the weather, the state of the country, or the filth of the roads. He should be running over the day's work in his mind's eye, thinking what he did when he was last at the cover he is now going to draw, considering what is the difference in the day, and a hundred other things, "too numerous to insert in a handbill," as the auctioneers say. Young gentlemen in jackets, and, indeed, middle-aged ones in new scarlet coats, must not, therefore, take it amiss if Huntsmen become strangely monosyllabic after leaving the meet, nor must they set them down as grumpey and ill-natured if they don't laugh at their wit.
With the reader's permission we will take another slice of Smith — rather fatter, too, than the last. " That a Huntsman should be a good rider," says he, "is proved by every check the hounds come to when he is away ; for even when he is present he will have enough to do to prevent over-riding; but unless he can ride at head, and see the very spot on which they throw up, he will be puzzled to know who of those up to apply to, and must often use his own judgment ; in short, the greatest use he can be of, when on a good scent, is to prevent men doing mischief; therefore he must have nerve to ride well up, and equal to any man in the kingdom ; for, unless he can be forward enough to look men in the face and request them to hold hard, he may ride behind and call after them till he is hoarse, and they will not turn their heads, probably believing that jealousy alone is the cause, and they go the faster for it ; but, if he is in his place, none but a madman will do mischief if requested to pull up : even the hard riders from the universities (that is, if they can stop their horses) will do so."
Some Huntsmen are far greater fidgets about their
44 THE HUNTING FIELD
hounds than others, both on the road and in the field. It is doubtless advisable always to keep hounds clear of horses; but as there is generally some gentleman who will "talk to the man at the wheel," and as no one likes to be last, even on the road, the consequence is the field will crowd to the head. Some Huntsmen have their hounds all huddled round their horse's heels, others will give them as much line as a regiment of guards, but perhaps the best course is to keep them together in a crowd, and give them room when alone.
We are not, however, going to set up to teach Huntsmen their business, fearing we might get the rebuke Naylor, the York and Ainsty Huntsman, administered to Nimrod, when he said "he had forgotten more than Nimrod ever knew ; " but there are a few observations of Mr. Smith, himself a gentleman-huntsman of no small celebrity, that may be administered like a cordial ball without ruffling the coat. Here is one. "There is nothing more disheartening to a field of sportsmen than for a Huntsman, or Master of Hounds, to trifle with them by pretending to draw for a fox, when it is evident they do not intend to let the hounds find one if they can help it, by taking them through the parts of a cover quickly where there is no laying, although there is good on the other side, which they avoid, and it would be a certain find if they would let the hounds draw it; or probably missing other sure places, and drawing unlikely ones, until their time is spun out that they may go home."
Of course there are days — windy ones, for instance — or days when few sportsmen are out, on which it is desirable to shut up as soon as possible; but in these cases it is always well to give the "regulars" the hint, by doing which Huntsmen will not only save censure, but the retirement of the forces will materially aid their retreat with the hounds. There
THE HUNTSMAN
45
is a discretion, however, in all this, which shows the man with the head from the man without. Tom Babbleton would tell all the country that they merely took the hounds out for show, while Sir Rasper Smashgate, or old Peter Pigskin, would acknowledge the propriety of the step and go home at once. Few sportsmen like to leave hounds while a chance of sport remains. Here is another hint. "When a Huntsman is requested to draw for a second fox late in the day, it would be fair to say, ' Gentlemen, we have had work lately, and have some distance home ; but if I do find, will you promise not to leave me till it is finished ? ' " Some men are very inconsiderate and unreasonable, never thinking hounds, horses, or men can do too much when they happen to be out, especially if the draw they recommend is in their way home.
But to the qualifications of a Huntsman : — Beckford said " he was not very ambitious of having a famous Huntsman, unless it necessarily followed that he must have famous hounds ; a conclusion," writes he, "I cannot admit as long as these so famous gentlemen will be continually attempting themselves to do what would be much better done if left to their hounds; besides, they seldom are good servants, are always conceited, and sometimes impertinent. I am very well satisfied if my Hunts- man be acquainted with his country and his hounds, if he ride well up to them, and if he have some knowledge of the nature of the animal which he is in pursuit of; but so far am I from wishing him to be famous, that I hope he will continue to think his hounds know best how to hunt a fox."
If we were hiring a Huntsman, we should like him to be bred in the hunting line. We cannot fancy a house-painter's or cobbler's son assuming the saddle and horn, and setting up as Huntsman. Doubtless there are fellows who have impudence enough to set
46 THE HUNTING FIELD
up for anything — archbishops, if they saw an opening — and we think they would almost as soon fulfil the duties of one as the other. It is not every wide- throated fellow with "nought to do, and who likes hontin vastly," as they say in Yorkshire, that will make a Huntsman — not a Huntsman to foxhounds, though we are not sure but a good bow-backed pedestrian, with his head well down to the ground for "pricking," would not make as good a harrier Huntsman as the best. The two offices are as different as horse-riding and donkey-riding. They both " go," certainly, but the " stop " of the business is the thing. And yet we have seen fellows who, because they have been able to circumvent a hare, have thought themselves qualified for foxhounds. The simile of the horse and the ass may be carried still further. Turn a horse loose and you don't know where he will go j but give a donkey his head, and see if he won't stop. It is just the same with a fox and a hare. You never know where a fox is bound, but a hare is almost invariably within the circle of the " magic ring." The fox is travel- ling, the hare perhaps squatting under your horse's feet. So far from having hunted harriers being a qualification for hunting foxhounds, we should say it was a downright objection. You have to unteach the harrier man all he knows, before you begin to teach. Better have a fresh horn and begin a new spoon. We would rather have a fellow from the roughest pack going, whose constant pursuit had been "fox," than one of these psalm-singing gentry. Not that we decry harehunting as a sport; legitimately followed it is capital amusement, but we should never take a Huntsman for foxhounds from a pack of harriers. Instead of thinking which way the fox had gone, he would be always thinking which way he had come.
We once heard of a harrier genius who, on the
THE HUNTSMAN 47
strength of having successfully manoeuvred some ten or twelve couple of waffling beggars, undertook the situation of Huntsman to a scratch pack of foxhounds. . A scratch pack of foxhounds, especially a newly set up one, is always a dangerous thing. You have all the wild, resolute, vigorous power of the animal without the discipline ; added to this, they are generally composed of the wild, vicious, savage hounds of other packs; things that escape hanging by going to scratch ones. Having, however, subdued the merry mettle of the harriers, generally with a rate, at all events with a cut of a whip, our hero thinking foxhounds were to be similarly kept down, " broke kennel " the morning after his some- what sudden installation, with a very riotous crew at his horse's heels. He got to the place of meeting with his own and the noisy efforts of a young clown in boots, and the field began to assemble. The meet was in a valley, and unfortunately on the opposite hill were some newly stubbed, but faded gorse bushes. A slight breeze caught one of these, and set it a going on the brow of the hill. The hounds caught view and dashed away full cry, Soup and Chaw riding, rating, and rioting, which the hounds were just as likely to take for encouragement as not. On they went full cry, at a most determined pace, when, wonderful to relate, Chaw instead of riding at their sterns, got round them, and with uplifted whip was about commencing operations, when the horse, unused to such a charge, suddenly stopped short ; Chaw pitched over its head ; away went the horse with the hounds full cry after it, for two miles, when fortunately or unfortunately, according to the value of the respective animals, a flock of sheep interposed, or as Soup deposed, he verily believed they would have eaten horse saddle and all. As it was, they compounded by taking several saddles of mutton. This, it may be said,
48 THE HUNTING FIELD
might have happened to any pack ; indeed Beckford relates a somewhat similar accident with his hounds, owing to the falling off of a whipper-in at exercise ; but it is nevertheless perfectly true, that an acquaint- ance with harriers unfits a man for appreciating the discipline requisite for foxhounds. They think too lightly of it. They are like a friend of ours, who being asked if he thought he could edit a Newspaper, replied "he thought any old woman in their work- house could do that."
Huntsmen are well aware of the feeling of harrier huntsmen, and some of them seem to take a pleasure in selling an innocent a bargain. We once overheard a dialogue between a young scratch pack gentleman Huntsman and a top-sawyer, which concluded by the young one, after sundry sporting and pertinent questions about a draft he had recently got, saying, he " supposed they had never worried sheep." " Oh, no, sir," replied the Huntsman with a shake of his head and touch of his cap, adding, sotto voce, to a friend at his side, "but they d — d soon will"
A " real tool," or " cake," of a Huntsman is a thing one rarely meets with, at least not in a civilized country. We once saw a fellow arrive in a greasy hat, and an old drab great coat over an older red one, on a visit of inspection to another pack, who was pointed out as Huntsman to the Scamping- ton hounds, and very like the thing he looked. They said he was the cleverest hand at drawing on a public house that ever was seen ; no matter whether he had ever been in the country before or not, he could always find them, and his nose did credit to the liquor. As to hunting a pack of hounds he had not the slightest idea. When at length he got straggled up at a check, instead of making a cast at once with promptitude and decision, he would sit on his horse exclaiming, " Ah, dear ! whichiver way can he have gone? Which way do you think he's
THE HUNTSMAN 49
gone, Mr. Brown ? Which way do you, Mr. Green?"
Huntsmen — hounds, servants in general — have one charming quality ; they look down upon every other species of amusement with the most superlative con- tempt. We like this. It shows genuine enthusiasm, without which there is little chance for anything in this world. We never heard or read of but one servant who followed hunting merely as a livelihood, without reference to the enjoyment, and without having any natural inclination that way, or indeed any pleasure in the chase, and that was a man of the name of Filer, formerly Huntsman to the Craven hounds, who used candidly to say, "he never liked foxhunting, but having been bred up with hounds he would stick to them." We have heard of men being brought up to the bar, the sea, or the church, and not liking their professions, but sticking to them ; but really, for a man to stick to hunting merely because he had been brought up with hounds, does seem a piece of pure self-devotion. He had better have turned policeman. How different to some of the stories that Beckford and Cook tell ! Old Luke Freeman, who hunted Lord Egremont's hounds, used to say to his lordship's sons, when he caught them reading, " Stoody, stoody, stoody ! aye studying they books ! take, I say, my advice, sir, and stoody fox- hunting." Luke, Colonel Cook says, gave his whole body and mind to it, and famously he succeeded, as all the country around could testify. A wag, for amusement, and to annoy a musical friend that was present, asked the old Huntsman " how he employed his time out of the hunting season ? " The veteran disdained a reply to a question that showed so little knowledge of the duties and cares of a Huntsman, and the querist proceeded with, "What think you of music for an amusement ? " " Music ! " con- temptuously echoed Luke. " Ay, fiddling, Mr. 4
5o THE HUNTING FIELD
Freeman." " Fiddling, fiddling," replied Luke; "it's all very well for cripples, poor things ! I always give them a halfpenny when I sees them at the fairs." Beckford has a cut at the musicians also. " Louis the Fifteenth," writes he, " was so passionately fond of hunting that it occupied him entirely. The then King of Prussia, who never hunted, gave up a great deal of his time to music, and himself played on the flute. A German meeting a Frenchman, asked him, very impertinently, ' Si son maitre chassoit toujours ? ' 1 Out, oui] replied the other, '// ne joue jamais de la flute: "
A Huntsman's head generally runs upon hunting. If he rides, or rails through a country, he looks at it with reference to riding over it. If he examines the crops, it is merely to see when they will be ripe. Woodland scenery draws forth observations upon cub- hunting. Hills are looked at with an eye to the easiest way up. When Williamson, the Duke of Buccleuch's Huntsman, visited London, his Grace told him he must see the sights. " But," replied Wool, as they call him, though he is no relation of our friend Cottonwool, " I don't know the country, and shall be lost." His Grace then sent him out on horseback, with a groom after him, and Nimrod says Wool was taken for a newly-made lord. Talking of countries reminds us of a story they used to tell of the late Lord Spencer, when Lord Althorp, and Dick Knight, his Huntsman. His lordship had been talking at the meet to some gentlemen about political matters, and had made use of the old hack observation that the "country was ruined"
" Ah," said Dick Knight, with a sigh, " they ruined the country when they made the Oxford Canal."
It is singular that such a narrow strip of water as the British Channel should make such a perfect division between the tastes, the feelings, and inclina- tions of the people. What would be prized and
THE HUNTSMAN 51
followed at Dover would be scouted and laughed at at Calais or Boulogne. We are alluding, of course, to hounds, for which the French have not the slightest feeling, inclination, or sympathy. Children in England all rush with delight to see them pass — French ones stare and wonder if the " soldiers " are going to kill and eat them up with the dogs. Hunt- ing is quite the peculiar taste of Britons, and let people say what they will, it must exercise a most beneficial influence on the national character. Let any one look at a field of foxhunters in full chase, and say whether such men are likely to be stopped at a trifle or not. Above all, let them look at the Huntsmen and Whip, and fancy them with swords in their hands instead of whips. Why, they would charge a regiment of devils in complete armour ! The Duke of Wellington, himself a foxhunter, and a real friend to the sport, used to say that for daring, dashing deeds, there were none like the foxhunting officers. We believe he generally selected them to carry despatches and other difficult duties on the battle-field.
A Frenchman looks at the " C/i'Xsse," a term they apply equally to sparrow-shooting and stag-hunting, as a mere means of achieving an end with the smallest possible trouble. They can't understand the wit of giving ourselves the trouble of pursuing an animal over hill and dale, that we can exterminate at first sight. They are all for lead. Colonel Cook, who resided many years in France, relates how that having some ten couple of hounds consigned to him, he took them into the Duke de Albufera (Suchet's) covers at Tankerville, and after a long draw found a fox in a piece of gorse in an open country, which being im- mediately headed into the mouth of the hounds, a French gentleman rode up, and taking off his hat, exclaimed, " Sir, I congratulate you on catching him so soon, and with so little trouble ! " Frenchmen
52
THE HUNTING FIELD
have a mortal horror of the idea of a pack of hounds, imagining that if they once get into a cover they will destroy every living thing in it. On this occasion, however, those that were out found great fault with the chiens Anglais, asserting they were good for nothing, for they would neither hunt hares, rabbits, nor rats.
CHAPTER VI
the huntsman — continued
" I have always thought a Huntsman a happy man ; his office is pleasing, and at the same time flattering ; we pay him for that which diverts him, and he is enriched by his greatest pleasure ; nor is a general after a victory more proud than is a Huntsman who returns with his fox's head." — Beckford.
N our last we glanced at the character and some of the duties of the Huntsmen, and ran over the names of several wTho have distinguished them- selves in their calling. The list was composed more of by-gone or fad- ing flowers than of the rising geniuses of the present day, because it creates no jealousy to award praise where all allow it, and our object in writing these sketches is to encourage a wholesome spirit of hunting, and not to flatter this man or that at the expense of his neighbours. Comparisons are always odious to some one, and there is no truer saying than that a Huntsman's fame rises and falls with the sport he shows. At the same time it is but justice to add, that there are many Huntsmen at work in our different counties whose fame will bear comparison with the best of those gone
53
54 THE HUNTING FIELD
by. When their waning day arrives, may some abler pen portray their merits.
The Huntsman of our Analysis is one of the old school ; his father was Huntsman before him, his sons now whip in to him. He has neither read Beck- ford "On Hunting," nor Nimrod on "Condition of Hunters," but he can kill a fox with any man going, and turn out his horse in as good condition as the best. He carries his library in his head — experience. Look at the old boy as he sits astride his glossy, well-conditioned black, his venerable gray locks pro- truding beneath his new black cap, his spic and span coat, his fortieth scarlet, with the stout drab breeches and mahogany tops. He sits on his horse as if he were a part of him. Old Will is our Huntsman's name. He most likely has another, but we never heard him called by anything else, and possibly he may have forgotten his surname himself. Old Will and young Will and Will junior (or sweet Will, as the girls call the young one, who is a bachelor), are the trio now moving the hounds about on the bright green sward, for Will, though no painter, knows that there is nothing like a dark background for setting off colours to advantage. How quiet he is with the hounds ! He gives them their fling, too, instead of having them cowering under his horse's legs to avoid the sting of the WThipper-in's lash, but a gentle " here again" with a slight wave of the hand, brings the outsiders frolicking back to his call. How much better than the noisy, bullying clamour of idiot boys, showing off, by the loudness of their rates, the severity of their cuts, and the thrashing of their horses.
There isn't a gap, or a gate, or a hole in the wall in the country, that Old Will does not know, and that he hasn't been over or through a hundred times. Time has slackened his leaping powers, but he is a capital hand at screwing through awkward places,
THE HUNTSMAN 55
and he always saves his horse in anticipation of a long day. He never seems in a hurry, and yet he is always near his hounds ; he never gallops when he can trot, or takes a leap when he can go through a gap. Old Will is sixty-seven, but he is not older than most men at fifty. He has not an ounce of superfluous flesh upon him, and is as equal to four days a week as he was at twenty.
Will and his Whips are turned out as they should be. They look as if they were going to ride across country instead of to canter up and down Rotten Row after my lord or my lady. We don't like to see dandified Huntsmen and whips. Over-dressed gentlemen are bad enough in the field, let us have no over-dressed servants. Shooters always put on their stoutest and worst things, wet or dry, wood or open ; but some foxhunters seem to think that only the best of everything will do for hunting. Then, if they get to the meet in apple-pie order, they don't care how soon after they spoil themselves, save and except, and always reserved, the Muffs and Fribbleton Browns who are going to lunch with the Miss Cotton- wools. They don't care how soon they get away after the pride of the meet is over.
Huntsmen and Whips should all wear caps. Nothing looks so ugly as servants in hats. Strange that Lord Darlington, who was painted by Marshall in the cap and spare stirrup-leather of the Huntsman, should, in his ducal days, have put his men in hats. Lord Lonsdale, too, had his in them latterly, and very slow they looked. Hats should only be worn at exercise. Modern times have introduced some frightful projections at the back of some hunting caps, like sheds thrown out at the backs of lodges. On inquiry, we found they were meant to turn the wet off the wearer's back. The same purpose would be answered by turning the cap peak backwards in wet weather, as Tom Rounding used to do at a wet
56 THE HUNTING FIELD
Epping hunt. This would save the wearer's neck, and also the disfigurement of an otherwise sporting and seemly article of dress. The projections make caps look like barbers' basons. Gentlemen never look well in caps. A cap and a frock coat should always go together. A gentleman in a cutaway coat and a cap looks as absurd as a courtier would in a round hat.
Leather breeches are stupid things for field servants. If the breeches are good, they are heavy, and require a deal of cleaning to keep them in order, and nothing can be more unsightly than thin, dingy, parchment- looking, ill-kept ones. Hunting servants have plenty to do without cleaning leather breeches. Lord Yar- borough's men, we believe, wear them ; but it is not every Master that has his lordship's purse. His lordship's men are the only ones we ever saw really well turned out in leathers. The Warwickshire men used to wear them in Boxall's time, but they would have looked better in cords. The Atherstone men, in Mr. Applewaite's time, were as well turned out as any men of the day, in neat cords, all the same colour and pattern.
Servants' dress should be stout, warm, and weather defying. They have many a weary, trashing, cold ride, both of a morning and an evening, that the generality of hound followers know nothing about. If the generality of men find the hounds at the meet at half-past ten or eleven, they neither care to know whence they came, nor whither they go. They look at them, much as people look at a play ; at a certain hour they expect to find the doors open, and " nosey " scraping his fiddle in the orchestra, after which all is looked upon as a mere matter of course; they are but spectators, free to stay or go as the humour seizes them. The Huntsmen and whips, however, must stay till the close of the entertainment, sometimes longer, unless, indeed, the Huntsman is content to
THE HUNTSMAN 57
go away, leaving lost hounds to "follow on," as a treasure of a man we knew used to say. We spoke in the past tense, but we know him still, only he carries a horn with letters on a mule, instead of pre- tending to hunt hounds, and he seems quite in his right place now.
The Huntsman is the main spring in the machinery of a hunting establishment, and upon his good con- duct greatly depends the comfort and pleasure of the Master. If the Huntsman is — what we must do them the justice of saying the generality of them are — a steady, honest, careful, accurate, economical, intelli- gent, painstaking man, holding the money scales fairly between his master and the public, neither cheating himself, nor suffering others to cheat, soothing asperi- ties, rather than creating them, demolishing difficulties rather than raising them ; he will be a credit to him- self, a comfort to his master, and the ornament of a circle composed of men not only well capable of appreciating, but also in the habit of substantially rewarding respectability of character and keenness displayed in their service. But if a Huntsman is a low-lived, careless, gossiping, drinking, grinding fellow, seeking only to feather his own nest, and that in the shortest possible time, he will be a torment to him- self and everybody about him ; and when he loses his place, which he most likely very soon will, he will find his character so blown, that the mere mention of his name to any other master will insure him a polite answer that he has no occasion for his services. A pack of hounds without a good Huntsman are very much like a fiddle without a stick.
Despite, however, what we have said about the liberality of sportsmen to huntsmen and hound servants, we cannot but feel that, considering what they do, the risks they run, and the zeal they show, they are sometimes rather under than over paid.
58 THE HUNTING FIELD
Compare them, for instance, with jockeys, who occupy a somewhat similar position in the racing, to what hound servants do in the hunting world. A jockey gets his two or three guineas a race, winning or losing, but if he wins a good stake for his employer, there is no saying to what extent the delightful delirium of the moment may induce a victorious master to go. We have heard that Jem Robinson got a thousand guineas for winning the Leger once, but suppose it was only a hundred, what Huntsman ever got a tithe of that for killing a fox ? A race is but a momentary spasm compared to a hard run over a difficult country, and the dangers of the one are nothing compared to those of the other, but the produce is oftentimes very different. It is not, how- ever, for the purpose of making servants dissatisfied with their places that we have made these observa- tions ; on the contrary, we will remind them that hunting, unlike racing, does not admit of money making, consequently they must put down as no small part of their perquisites the enjoyment they themselves derive from the pleasures of the chase, and remember that though some jockeys may get large presents, yet their employment is precarious, and that it is better to have the certainty of a Huntsman's wages than the capricious windfalls of the uncertain goddess, Fortune ; but we alluded to their pecuniary position for the purpose of encouraging the custom that has now almost entirely superseded the old one of capping — namely, that of gentlemen making hunts- men and hound servants presents apart from their wages. Capping certainly had its advantages, but perhaps its disadvantages preponderated. It added interest to energy, and perhaps spurred what might have been otherwise indolent men into activity, but it encouraged mobbing and bag foxhunting, which are both highly inimical to the chase. It is not killing the animal that constitutes the charm of foxhunting,
THE HUNTSMAN 59
but it is matching the vigour, boldness, and cunning of a wily animal with the faculties and sagacities of others; putting them on fair terms as it were, and trying which has the best of it. Mr. Smith says, in his " Diary of a Huntsman," that there are foxes that can beat any hounds if they have time to prepare themselves, and have a fair start.
Another recommendation that capping on the death had, was, that it was done at a time when men's hearts were open to the generous impulses — they had just partaken of the highest enjoyment they know, and, when an Englishman's heart is fairly moved, it always finds vent through his pocket-hole. The sportsman was carried away by the enthusiasm of the moment, and the hand went in almost naturally. Let him cool, let the cap be next week, and it will be very like paying a heavy doctor's bill a year after a recovery, though we would gladly have discharged it at the end of the illness. Some people cannot resist capping as it is. Old Pigskin's hand, for instance, dives into his drabs as naturally as can be at the end of a good run, and Piggy's liberality leads us to say a few words on the tax-gathering style of collecting. In some hunts, busy men, or men who like to take the credit of others' liberality, institute a sort of com- pulsory subscription, levying an equal rate on the man who hunts his half-a-dozen days a season, as upon the man who hunts his four or five days a week, dividing what they get with due importance and perhaps some favouritism. This is as bad, or perhaps worse, than the old half-crown system. It takes a guinea from the man who perhaps would give five, and makes a man pay a guinea to whom five shillings is an object. It puts Piggy and Sir Rasper Smash- gate on an equality as to means. When lecturing Mrs. Forcemeat Cottonwool on her treatment of our Master at dinner, we advised her to give him credit for knowing his stomach better than she did, and so
6o THE HUNTING FIELD
in this case we advise gentlemen to let others be the judges of their own means. Let every man give what is convenient to him, and give at his own time. Never mind if a few dirty scamps do escape. Hunts- men and Whips have too much spirit to wish to take money from such beggars. Let them ride over them the first time they get them down, or give their loose horses a cut instead of catching them.
Capping has been going out of fashion ever since the present century came in. Mr. Corbet, we believe, was the last great Master who allowed it, and with the large fields that attended his hounds, and the many killing runs they had, "Will Barrow and Co." as Nimrod called them, made a good thing of it. Will was a provident man, and when he died ^1400 in money was found in old stockings and all sorts of odd places, in boxes where he kept his clothes, besides suits that had never been on, sufficient for a union workhouse. They still pursue the system for the benefit of Lord Hill with the Surrey hounds, and if it is allowable anywhere, it perhaps is in the neighbour- hood of London, where chance gentlemen may be out every day, that they may never have the pleasure of seeing again.
The reader will observe that the motto to this paper, taken from Mr. Beckford's "Thoughts upon Hunting," speaks of the Huntsman being " enriched by his greatest pleasure," which in a note he explains to be the field money, collected at the death of a fox. But he goes on to show that capping even then was not universally approved of. "I have heard that a certain duke," writes he, " who allowed no vails to his servants, asked his Huntsman what he generally made of his field money, and gave him what he asked instead of it ; this went on very well for some time, till at last the Huntsman desired an audience. ' Your grace,' said he, 'is very generous, and gives me more than ever I got from field money in my life ; yet
THE HUNTSMAN 61
I come to beg a favour of your grace, that you would let me take field money again ; for I have not half the pleasure now in killing a fox that I had before.5 "
After all is said and done, however, we come back to the old opinion that hunting servants are well worthy the consideration of the field, and whether they are remembered in public or private must just remain matter of taste. No master would ever object either way, because it is the best testi- mony of the field to the adequacy of their servants' services.
We are sorry to say that faithfulness among servants is becoming a rare quality. By faithfulness we mean not only that honesty which forbids their robbing us themselves, but that integrity — that loyalty we may almost call it — which ought to prevent their allowing others to do it without telling. Strange as it may seem, it is no less true, that their consciences seem satisfied with the negative virtue of abstinence them- selves. Dangerous virtue ! The next step to looking on, is participating, and then comes robbing itself. " Winking " at robbery is the true school of training for New South Wales.
WThether this indifference to their master's interests is to be attributed to the gad-about habits of the day, or the spread of education and facility of communica- tion by post, or arises from the distance now main- tained between masters and servants, is immaterial to the present inquiry. Hunting servants, at all events, have not the latter excuse for their delinquencies ; and it certainly does favour the supposition that masters and mistresses are not sufficiently attentive and considerate to their servants, when we find that those who are in constant contact with their masters, enjoying their pleasures and sharing their dangers, imbibe a certain interest and anxiety for them that the mere payment of wages fails to produce. Hunts-
62 THE HUNTING FIELD
men are generally intrusted with large sums of money, much of it frequently to be expended in the way of " secret service," and yet we never hear of misappro- priation or squandering lavishment. On the contrary, if they do err, it is generally on the side of keenness for their employer. Many excellent stories are told of Williamson, the Duke of Buccleuch's Huntsman, in the way of bargain-driving for his grace. Williamson is a great economist, but such is his dense Scotch stupidity that he cannot understand, because his master is a rich duke, that he ought to pay double for everything he buys. Most servants would think it a self-evident proposition, but Wool can't see it. He drives and screws, and screws and drives, just as if he was bargaining for himself. He had a bad fall a few years since, and, riding about shortly after with his arm in a sling, he encountered a bargain-driving opponent. The man asked him how he was : "Wall," said Will, " I'm batter, thank ye ; but I can no get my hand i' my pouch yet." " Gad ! ye never could do that," replied the man,
The following is shrewd and characteristic : — "I was paying a bill to a farmer for hay," said Williamson to Nimrod, when that gentleman visited the duke's establishment during his Scotch tour, "nearly fifty pounds, and the farmer insisted upon the odd four- pence halfpenny. I gave him it," said he, with pleasure, "because it showed I had bought the hay worth the money." Williamson farmed the Lothian lands during the Duke of Buccleuch's minority, publishing an annual statement of the disbursements, and he is considered a great authority on all points of useful economy. Going to market with ready money and attention to trifles, is, he says, where the great savings are effected. Talking of meal, " I know a gentleman," said he to Nimrod, " who never returns the empty sacks. Was there ever such a thing heard of," continued he, with a strong emphasis on his
THE HUNTSMAN 63
words, " was there ever such a thing heard ^/as a person not returning the empty sacks ? " An amusing circumstance occurred connected with Williamson's ideas of practical economy. Being a true promoter of hunting, and consequently anxious to enlist followers by making it as cheap as possible, he wrote a paper, showing where great savings might be effected in many of the indispensable articles of stable use — clothes, saddles, bridles, physic, etc. and sent it to a London periodical. The cockney sub- editor got hold of it, and most unceremoniously con- demned it, recommending the author, in his notice to correspondents, "to forward a copy of it to the Chancellor of the Exchequer, headed 'Hints for a Budget.'" He doubtless thought his correspondent was some puffing tradesman, instead of the " King of Scotch servants," as Lord Kintore christened William- son. So much for people deciding upon what they don't understand.
Williamson's situation, perhaps, can hardly be called servitude, but his example is not the less valuable on that account. He receives the duke's money, and every man who accepts the wages of hire enters into an implied contract that he will protect and do the best he can for his employer. Williamson's view of the matter was pithily expressed in the follow- ing observation : — " I found the duke rich," said he, "and I wish to leave him so."
Scotch servants, we are almost inclined to think, are more faithful in a general way than English ones. Whether there is something about mountainous countries that draws the affections and binds parties in stronger union we know not ; but the same may be observed of the Swiss. Spite of all the contamina- tion of English manners, and the corruption of English gold, the Swiss, as a nation, are eminently faithful. The Scotch, we believe, are kinder — more attentive, at least — to their servants than the English.
64 THE HUNTING FIELD
They treat them more as friends and companions. There is one thing to be said, that the Scotch do not often encumber themselves with the useless, overgrown, establishments that some English think necessary for maintaining their dignity, as they call it, consequently the attention that would cut up very small among many, makes a handsome dividend to those servants that are really wanted. Another thing is, that in large establishments notice or attention to one more than another only makes jealousy and
mischief among those who are omitted. These points, however, bear more upon the general question of "servants" than the particular class under con- sideration.
We commenced this sketch by placing Huntsmen and kennel servants at the head of all others, and as Huntsmen ride first, we presume they would walk first in a procession. If, for instance, Williamson was to be crowned King of Scotch servants, the Earl Marshal would most likely arrange them someway thus : —
THE HUNTSMAN 65
His Majesty King William the Fifth.
Huntsmen.
Butlers.
Valets (and such like cattle).
Eldest sons of Huntsmen.
Whips.
Jeams Plush's.
Fat Coachmen.
Stud Grooms in cut-aways.
Younger sons of Huntsmen.
Eldest sons of Whips.
Grooms, &c. &c.
CHAPTER VII
THE WHIPPER-IN ' ' High o'er thy head wave thy resounding whip. "
SOMERVILLE.
VERACIOUS French gentleman, writing on England, observed that we were a cruel, melan- choly nation, for in all parts of London he saw written up, "Horses taken in to bait" and "Funerals performed here." Doubt- less the same observing traveller would assert that people keep hounds, and servants to do nothing but whip them. The name, "Whipper-in," certainly favours the supposition, at all events as much as the sign-boards did the con- clusions Johnny Crapaud drew from them. Indeed others than Frenchmen might be of that opinion, especially if they heard the noisy, clamorous ratings that sometimes attend a half civilized scratch pack. There is nothing, perhaps, so distinguishing as the silent quiet manner of the well - appointed, well- disciplined establishment, and the roaring, cut-them- into-ribbons style of the omnium gatherum, refuse, tear away, tear-'em up town pack.
THE WHIPPER-IN 67
Before railway advertisements increased and multi- plied our advertising sheets, newspaper editors used generally, in the dulness of autumnal times, to enlarge a leopard or tiger from the caravan of some travelling showman, which, while it afforded a fine crop of paragraphs, as long as it was at liberty, produced a good stout contradiction at the end, and really we don't think we are going much beyond the mark in saying that a bo?ia fide tiger or leopard would not be much more dangerous than some of these enlarged canine bedlams, called scratch packs.
Beckford relates how a kennelled pack once ate up their Huntsman — nothing but the unfortunate man's buttons being found to account for him — and we have seen animals scouring the country that seemed equal to anything — anything, from a "helephant down to a hearwig," as the dancing-master Huntsman, to the short-lived Fulham harriers, said of his. A man that has never tried his hand with foxhounds has not the slightest conception of the undertaking. He sees forty or fifty couple of great strapping, high-con- ditioned animals, all as docile and obedient as lap- dogs — apparently rather inert than otherwise — and he very likely fancies that listlessness is their character- istic, that they are a sort of canine calves, and that anybody can manage them. Little as hounds are attended to in the field, it must have struck even the most casual observer what totally different animals they are in kennel and out. In kennel they are easy, indolent, devil-may-care sort of creatures, checked by a word, almost a look, but when their mettle is roused by the scent, what dash, what energy, what life, what determination is called forth. The Huntsman's horn and the Whipper-in's rate are equally disregarded, and "getting at them" is the only chance of stopping them. How small a man feels in a kennel with some fifty or sixty couple, looking and smelling at him, as much as to say, " Pray, what business have you here ? '
68 THE HUNTING FIELD
How pleasant to stand calculating what proportion of a mouthful a-piece one's carcase would make for the company. A man who has whipped-in to harriers, labours under much the same disadvantage that the man does who has hunted them; he is ignorant of the discipline indispensable for foxhounds. Instead of giving a hound one of those hearty good hidings and ratings that makes him tremble at his voice, he is always flopping and skutching, sometimes hitting, sometimes missing, but never making an impression. A foxhound requires a tremendous hiding. Let not the French historian, or the Society for the Sup- pression of Cruelty to Animals, jump at the assertion. It is mercy in the end, most likely saving the animal from the halter. We have seen a sheep worrier so licked, that he could hardly crawl out of his kennel, and instead of attacking sheep again, he was afraid to look one in the face. After one of these sound flagellations, a hound running riot will stop as if shot, at the sound of the voice that accompanied the administration of the medicine. Of course these hearty hidings are only for flagrant faults — sheep- worrying, deer-hunting, poultry-killing, obstinacy, and so on. All young hounds will riot occasionally — a great thumping hare starting up under their noses is enough to lead any one astray, and it is in the checking and stopping that the discipline or non- discipline of an establishment is shown. Some fellows will set to, roaring and riding, and cracking their whips, making confusion worse confounded, while others just trot quietly on till they near the delinquent, when dropping his name heartily into his ear, followed by a crack of the whip, if the receipt of the halloo is not acknowledged, they will check his unlicensed career, and bring him skulking back to the pack. Some let them have their riot out, especially when the old hounds are steady, and then shame the young ones on their return. Beckford
THE WHIPPER-IN 69
thought it as well, provided they did not get blood.
Some hounds are desperately headstrong, and know the advantage of having a high wall, coped with mortar and dashed with broken bottles, between them and the man that is rating them. For them, Beckford says, " My general orders to my Whippers- in are, if, when he rate a hound, the hound does not mind him, to take him up immediately and give him a severe flogging. Whippers-in are too apt to con- tinue rating, even when they find that rating will not avail. There is but one way to stop such hounds, which is to get to the heads of them. I also tell him never on any account to strike a hound, unless the hound be at the same time sensible what it is for. What think you of the Whipper-in," asks he, "who struck the hound as he was going to cover, because he was likely to be noisy afterwards, saying, ' You will be noisy enough by and by, I warrant you ' ? "
When discussing the " Huntsman " we related a misfortune attending a scratch pack Huntsman, or more properly "horn-blower," with a furze bush and a flock of sheep, and in looking into Mr. Vyner's book we find a similar case recorded of young hounds at home : —
"I once knew an instance," says he, "of a lot of wild young hounds being moved into a field adjoining the kennel where they were kept, and where a long- tailed black pony was grazing, attended by the feeder alone ; from wantonness one of the hounds bayed at the pony, which induced another to do the same, and the pony to declare his approbation or disapprobation by repeated snorting and caprioles ; the main body concluded it was a signal for a rush, when away went the little horse over a fence into the adjoining lane, and away went the hounds full cry, to the dismay of the feeder and the rest of the establishment, who were so suddenly summoned by the music of the
70 THE HUNTING FIELD
pack ; however, to conclude my story, they were not stopped until they ran the pony five miles, but without any further damage to any of the party excepting sowing the seeds of irrevocable wildness whenever an opportunity might offer itself."
All packs, however, must have a beginning, and the following may afford consolation to Masters of newly set up ones : —
"There is an old story told," says Mr. Vyner, "of the Beaufort hounds, when that pack was being first formed many years ago. A new draft of hounds which had arrived on the previous day were let out into the paddock to be inspected, when they com- menced running the crows, which frequently fly skim- ming along close to the ground in windy weather ; and, as the old kennelman who had the care of them declared, that he believed they would have never been stopped, if they had not, by the blessing of God, changed for a jackass."
But to the Whip—
We oftener find a "tool" of a Whip than a "tool" of a Huntsman — perhaps because they have not so many opportunities of exposing themselves as Hunts- men, or perhaps because Whip " tools " are blighted in the flower of whipper-in-hood, and never have a chance of blooming into Huntsmen. We have had a letter from a friend, informing us that the "cake" of a Huntsman is described, who used to exclaim in bewilderment on coming up at a check, "Ah dear, whichiver way can he have gone ? " — " which way do you think he has gone, Mr. Brown?" — "which way do you, Mr. Green ? " — had an ornament of a Whip, who never by any chance rode over a fence, and the genius having chased a hound to the confines of a field would sit craning and cracking his whip, halloo- ing, "Get away, hound! get away/" the hound, of course, pursuing the same vagaries in the next field as he had done in the one from which he had been
THE WHIPPER-IN 71
chased, until interrupted by our friend again cutting round, full grin, at the gate, and repeating the same farce over again. We have seen non-riding Hunts- men do not amiss, but a non-riding Whip will never do. Indeed, we know a gentleman, an ex-Master of Hounds, who says that " riding in a Huntsman " and "being a good shot in a Gamekeeper" are of the least consequence. If the keeper can hit a hawk sitting, he says it is enough for him, and that '''brains, a cool judgment, a good temper, and a good constitution " are the indispensable ingredients for a Huntsman. Riding, he adds, is his least recommendation.
But to the Whip again. Here is Mr. Beckford's opinion of what a Whipper-in ought to be : —
"With regard to the Whipper-in," writes he, "as you keep two of them (and no pack of fox hounds is complete without) the first may be considered as a second Huntsman, and should have nearly the same qualities. It is necessary besides, that he should be attentive and obedient to the Huntsman ; and as his horse will probably have most to do, the lighter he is the better; though, if he be a good horseman, the objection of his weight will be sufficiently over- balanced. He must not be conceited. I had one formerly, who, instead of stopping hounds as he ought, would try to kill a fox by himself. This fault is unpardonable; he should always maintain to the Huntsman's holloo, and stop such hounds as divide from it. When stopped, he should get forward with them after the Huntsman."
It is ludicrous, but lamentable to sport, to wit- ness a contest between a Huntsman and Whip for supremacy. We remember travelling through Leicestershire some years ago, when the guard and coachman of the mail got to loggerheads on that point, and it ended in the stoppage of the vehicle until the passengers interfered. The coachman found
72 THE HUNTING FIELD
fault with the guard about something — perhaps having been too long over his changing drop — when the guard repudiated his interference, desiring him to "go on and make up lost time — for that the coachman was his servant." "Your servant!" exclaimed Jehu, pulling his horses up into a walk ; " whose servant am I now, think you ? " added he, grinning over his shoulder. So they went on for a mile or more, the coachman pulling up as often as the guard gave his "his servant" orders to go on. Much such a scene occurs in the hunting field, when Whips and Hunts- men have not settled that point any better than our coachman and guard had.
Beckford lays down the law on the point very ably : — "The Whip," writes he, "must always be contented to act an under-part, except when circumstances may require that he should act otherwise ; and the moment they cease, he must not fail to resume his former station ; you have heard me say, that when there is much riot, I prefer an excellent Whipper-in to an excellent Huntsman. The opinion, I believe, is new ; I must therefore endeavour to explain it. My mean- ing is this — that I think I should have better sport, and kill more foxes with a moderate Huntsman, and an excellent Whipper-in, than with the best of Hunts- men without such an assistant. You will say, perhaps, that a good Huntsman will make a good Whipper-in ; not such, however, as I mean; his talent must be born with him. My reasons are, that good hounds (and bad ones I would not keep) oftener need the one than the other ; and genius, which if in a Whipper- in, is attended by obedience, his first requisite, can do no hurt; in a Huntsman is a dangerous, though a desirable, quality ; and if not accompanied by a large share of prudence, and I may say humility, will often- times spoil your sport, and hurt your hounds."
Mr. Beckford, it should be remembered, was speaking of the requirements of his own country,
THE WHIPPER-IN 73
Dorsetshire — a country abounding in riot of all sorts, where the covers are large, and there is a chase full of deer and game. True, as Mr. Vyner observes, in a note to this text, that almost all countries now labour under a similar disadvantage from the unhealthy increase of game preserves ; but Dorsetshire, perhaps, is still worse than any, owing to the rather plentiful existence of the little roebuck, which is a sad temptation to hounds at all periods of the chase. Beckford, by no means meant to under- value abilities in a Huntsman ; what he meant to say was, that, situated as he was, he could do better with mediocrity in the Huntsman than in the Whip. Hunting talent was scarce in his day.
He then gives the following instance of how much more a Whip is at liberty to give play to his genius than the Huntsman, who must necessarily follow his hounds : —
"A gentleman told me," writes he, "that he heard the famous Will Dean, when his hounds were running hard in a line with Daventry, from whence they were at that time many miles distant, swear exceedingly at the Whipper-in, saying, ' What business have you hereV The man was amazed at the question; * Why, don V you know] said he, ''and be d — d to you, that the great earth at Daventry is ope?i ? ' The man got forward, and reached the earth just time enough to see the fox in."
Will Dean, or Deane as some spell it, was originally Huntsman to Mr. Childe, who hunted part of Oxford- shire, and doubtless this scene occurred during that time. Dean was afterwards Huntsman with the late Lord Fitzwilliam, who bought Mr. Childe's hounds in 1769, and Dean has the credit of introducing the present dashing style of riding to hounds. He was considered a great authority in former times.
Mr. Beckford thus recapitulates his qualification for a Whipper-in : —
74 THE HUNTING FIELD
"If," says he, "your Whipper-in be bold and active, be a good and careful horseman, have a good ear and a clear voice — if, as I said, he be a very Mungo^ here there and everywhere^ having at the same time judgment to distinguish where he can be of most use ; if, joined to these, he be above the foolish conceit of killing a fox without the Huntsman, but, on the contrary, be disposed to assist him all he can, he then is a perfect Whipper-in."
Some people fancy because a man is a first-rate Whipper-in, that he must necessarily make a good Huntsman ; such is far from the case, at least far from being a necessary consequence. Indeed, on this point, none are more sensible than servants themselves. We have known several first-rate Whips who have declined Huntsmen's places, fearing they might not succeed, and have to retrograde in life, a proceeding that is always disagreeable. The observa- tion of most sportsmen will supply them with instances of first-rate Whips making first-rate failures as Hunts- men ; again they will be able to point to Whippers-in, who have shone far more with the horn than they did with the couples.
Still it is a good principle of Mr. Beckford's, who says : —
"Your first Whipper-in being able to hunt the hounds occasionally, will answer a good purpose ; it will keep your Huntsman in order : they are very apt to be impertinent when they think you cannot do without them."
A Whip may come up on an emergency, and do a brilliant thing; but as one swallow does not make a summer, so does not one dashing act make a Huntsman. Some men, doubtless, are born to be Whips, others to be Huntsmen. Upon this point we may vouch the authority of Mr. Delme Radcliffe, an ex-Master of Foxhounds, and an author to boot : —
"No one," says he, "could ever have seen old
THE WHIPPER-IN 75
Tom Ball, formerly Whipper-in to Lord Tavistock, without feeling that he must have been born a Whipper-in. George Mountford would readily admit that, but for Tom, many and many a fox might have escaped his skill, which fell a victim to Old Ball's sagacity, his knowlege of the animal and his line. Patiently he would sit by a covert side, where, by his oivn line, he had arrived about as soon as the sinking fox ; there would he view, perhaps, a brace or more away, without the motion of a muscle, till his practised eye would recognise the hunted fox, and then would blithe Echo and other wood nymphs be startled by the scream which would resound his knell, and, like the war-cry of the ancients, would reanimate his pursuers with certainty of conquest."
Another very able writer — indeed we think about the best we know on the real essence of hunting, scent and trusting to hounds — who used to write in the "New Sporting Magazine" under the signature of " Thistlewhipper," also bears testimony to the importance of a good Whipper-in, and to the superiority of Tom Ball in that line : —
" I am decidedly of opinion," writes he, " that the success of a pack of foxhounds is more dependant on the exertions of a good Whipper-in than on the Huntsman, and that a North American Indian would be excellent materiel to form one. How often have I witnessed Wells, the Oakley Huntsman, when his hounds were approaching a cover in which they were likely to change, take off his cap, and turn his ear to catch Tom Ball's holloa on the other side, and when he heard it, dash to the head of his hounds, catch hold of them, and gallop round to it."
This gentleman "Thistlewhipper," if we mistake not, was the author of the " Life of a Foxhound," published in the "Old Sporting Magazine."
No one can read his papers without feeling that they are the productions of a real sportsman, a real
76 THE HUNTING FIELD
hunter, which is, perhaps, a more determining appellation than that of "sportsman," which, with "sporting man," may be assumed alike by the fox- hunter and the thimble-rigger. Being an observing man himself, " Thistlewhipper " noted observation in others. Take the following as an instance : —
"To show how much more observant of little things some men are than others," writes he, " I was standing with about twenty men in a riding, while the hounds were drawing and had drawn a great part of the wood. 'No fox here to-day,' said one. 'Yes, there is a fox moving in that young plantation,' said another, ' and you will see him cross,' and two minutes after he did. There was a universal exclamation, ' How did you know a fox was there ? ' ' While you were talking,' said he, ' I heard a cock pheasant "ceck up" three or four times, evidently alarmed.'"
How beautifully that fact corroborates Beckford's observation, that when you see two men in conversa- tion at the cover side, you may safely infer that one at least knows nothing of what he is out for.
All practical men agree in the necessity of a Huntsman being efficiently supported by his Whippers- in. Mr. Vyner, in his " Notitia Venatica," says : —
" Nothing will be found to be of greater importance in the well-conducting of operations than steadiness and persevering exertions on the part of the Whippers- in ; servants of that description are quite as difficult to meet with as a first-rate Huntsman ; a Master, who ' puts up ' a booby of a groom, merely because he can ride young horses and scream like a fish-woman, must never expect to see his hounds anything else than wild and vicious in their drawing, and heedless and unhandy in their attention to the Huntsman when casting."
Mr. Smith, in his " Diary of a Huntsman," says : —
" To be a Whipper-in requires both a good eye and a good ear; but the greatest qualification for
THE WHIPPER-IN 77
one is, that he should be free from conceit, so that he will consider it right to obey the Huntsman most implicitly, whether he thinks him right or wrong, and not hesitate, but at once instantly do what is required ; then he does his duty, but not till then."
Mr. Smith is of the same opinion as Mr. Beckford as to the importance of a clever Whipper-in, and says that men who have hunted their own hounds have often felt a wish to become Whippers-in, knowing, as they do, that it is possible for a good Whipper-in to do more towards the sport most days than the Huntsman. The thing, he says, is to find a man who does not wish to save himself, and he adds, if the Whip is really fond of the sport he never will.
Upon this point, however, we may observe that the greatest keenness may be subdued by work, and that the difference between a gentleman's keenness and a servant's keenness is, that the gentleman's work is voluntary, but the servant's work is com- pulsory ; gentlemen can go or stay at home, as the humour seizes them, but servants cannot. Even on the wildest and most unlikely days, some people will turn up at the appointed meet.
Mr. Smith says, " A Whipper-in should not ride as if he was riding for amusement or credit, but should have his eye to the hounds without distressing his horse, which is a great recommendation to every Master of Hounds. The greatest fools ride the hardest generally ; the proof of their being so, is, that they forget they must go on till night, but men who hunt with hounds can go home when they please. A proof of a clever Whipper-in is, that he is always up at a check, without ever being seen in front, except by accident, and no one else there ; but it is his duty to hold in, and by that means he has always something left in his horse, when others are beaten. There are Whippers-in now going who are never seen in a quick thing, and yet are never missed,
78 THE HUNTING FIELD
because they are always up when wanted. Who looks for a Whipper-in except then? He does not hunt the fox."
It has always appeared to us, in our casual observa- tion of hounds and different establishments, that servants — Whippers-in in particular — do not give that delightful animal, the hound, due credit for the extraordinary sagacity it possesses. They treat them too much like cattle or flocks of sheep. There is no animal so grateful for kindness, so sensible of injury or reproach as the dog. We often think a London dray-horse possesses far more sense than the great two-legged, plush-breeched buffer on the flags, whose whip point dangles in our eyes. We should be sorry to say the same of hounds and their attendants ; but we should like to see a little more reasoning power, and a little less whip-cord used in some hunting establishments — to hear men talking to their hounds instead of rating them.
It has been well said that no animals take their character from their master so much as hounds do from their Huntsman. If the Huntsman is wild, noisy, or nervous, so will his hounds be ; if steady, quick, and quiet, he may rely upon it that his pack will be the same.
The same gentleman 1 who made that observation gives the following judicious advice to Whippers-in : —
" In going through riot, let not the hounds be driven in a heap under their Huntsman's horse, and indiscriminately rated without reason, as is too often the case ; but, on the contrary, let the Huntsman seem carelessly to trust them, at a certain distance from him, to take their own way, with the simple precaution of having his men a little wide on either flank ; he will then see which hound is to be trusted and which not, and if riot is begun, his men are
1 " Skim," in the " New Sporting Magazine," describing the Hon. Grantley Berkeley's system of management.
THE WHIPPER-IN
79
rightly placed to check it, with the further advantage of knowing and rating the hound that offends, instead of chiding indiscriminately. If hounds are driven under their Huntsman's horse when approaching riot, they will pass it by without looking it in the face, noticing it no more than they would if a hare were turned down in their kennel while the men stood by with their whips. Such treatment cannot make hounds steady; on the contrary, they have sense enough to know when they are out of your reach,
and, like boys from school, on the sudden removal of unnatural restraint, they are the more inclined to join in any riot that may offer. A rate when given at an improper time does more harm than good ; it disgusts your honest hound — it shies and prevents from hunting your timid one ; and it is treated with contempt by those of another character, who may at some future time deserve it."
Mr. Beckford gives an admirable illustration of the absurdity of supposing that because hounds refrain from mischief when their attendants are by, that they are necessarily steady in their absence. A friend
80 THE HUNTING FIELD
of his whose hounds were troubled with the unfortunate propensity of killing their own mutton, bethought him of turning a ram into the kennel among the hounds. Vigorously the old gentleman laid about him with his horns, and patiently the hounds bore it, and after witnessing a good deal of the fun the master and servants retired, leaving the ram apparently master of the kennel. Returning in about an hour's time to show a friend what an admirable receipt he had discovered for sheep-worriers, the master found that the hounds had eaten the old ram up in his absence, and having filled their bellies had retired to their benches.
^
CHAPTER VIII
THE WHIPPER-IN — C0?iclllded
HIPPERS-IN, like rail- way passengers, may be divided into three classes ; first, the Hunts- m a n Whipper-in; secondly, the regular Whipper-in ; thirdly, the second Whipper-in.
The Huntsman Whip- per-in is to be found in the establishments of gentlemen hunting their own hounds, as Shirley was with Mr. Assheton Smith and afterwards with Sir Richard Sutton, Jack Stevens with Mr. Osbaldeston, Charles Treadwell with Mr. Smith, Hogg with Lord Elcho, and so on.
Huntsmen Whippers-in have difficult cards to play, having to change from Whips to Huntsmen at as short notice as the harlequin in a pantomime, and the worst of it is, they are expected to change the feelings of the hounds as quickly, and to draw animals to them in the security of enthusiastic confidence that for weeks and months, perhaps, they have been chasing and driving away. In this respect they have a worse chance than the Gentleman-Huntsman who
82 THE HUNTING FIELD
never feeds his hounds, for he at all events does not lick them, and an animal remembers a blow much longer than he does a bellyful of meat.
In addition to this, the Huntsman Whipper-in generally has the pack pawned off upon him, under disadvantageous circumstances — during a hurricane perhaps — or at some out of the way, or interminable woodland meet, or during doubtful, changing, frost catching weather. Of all trials, however, that of wind is the worst. "Take not out your hounds in a very windy or bad day," says Beckford, and hundreds of Masters and servants must have echoed the sentiment.
A Huntsman Whipper-in has not a fair chance under such circumstances, and if we were a Gentle- man-Huntsman, and thought the day too windy to go out ourself, we would keep the hounds at home rather than risk an accident by sending them out in such critical times, different to what they usually go. Wind is the very deuce and all in hunting. Fancy being pinned, as we have been, horse and all, on the top of a hill, coat flaps flying out, one hand grasping the hat, the other the reins, with the horse snorting and sticking his feet into the ground for fear of being blown over, and then let a man ask himself if that is pleasure. Pleasure ! We would rather pick oakum or work the treadmill under cover.
" On windy days, or such as are not likely to afford any scent for hounds, it is better, I think," says Beckford, " to send the hounds to be exercised on the turnpike-road; it will do them less harm than hunting with them might do, and more good than if they were to remain confined in their kennel ; for though nothing makes hounds so handy as taking them out often, nothing inclines them so much to riot as taking them out to hunt when there is little or no scent, and particularly on windy days, when they cannot hear one another."
THE WHIPPER-IN 83
Yet these are the sort of days on which Hunts- men Whippers-in have to exercise their talent, and upon which hasty and thoughtless men ground their opinions. Many people prefer finding fault to praising. They think it shows acuteness on their part.
Again, another disadvantage some Huntsmen Whippers-in labour under, is having the pack assigned under difficult circumstances. Many Gentlemen - Huntsmen can manoeuvre a pack about Salisbury Plain, who would yet be uncommonly glad to get rid of them if they got into the "Crick " country.1 Then the Huntsman Whipper-in gets them until the diffi- culties are past.
We are all great judges of hunting ; horses and hunting everybody understands ; and the appearance of the Huntsman Whipper-in, in the character of Huntsman, of course throws wide the gates of critical observation. We have many a laugh in our widely- made sleeve at the contrariety of opinion about the same man, and the oracular decision with which each is delivered. If the Master is a favourite with the speaker, then he is the man, and poor Tom isn't fit to hold a candle to him ; but if the Master doesn't stand "A 1," as they say at Lloyd's, then Tom is the man, and the speaker only hopes the Master may not return on this side of Christmas. In hunting, as in other things, the medium is seldom hit ; allowances are never made ; a man is either a demon or a demi- god. What one fool says another repeats, and that is what they call " public opinion " — " They say." How disgusting it is to hear some fellows prating about Huntsmen and Whips. Monkey boys in jackets even think themselves qualified to give an opinion.
Mr. Davis, the celebrated animal painter, and brother to her Majesty's Huntsman, commenced an admirable work a few years since, called the "Hunter's 1 The most strongly fenced part of Northamptonshire.
84 THE HUNTING FIELD
Annual," being a series of beautifully executed en- gravings of the most celebrated of our hunting establishments, in the various departments of the kennel and the field, accompanied by short bio- graphical notices of the hounds, countries, and men. In speaking of the Burton Hunt, then in the hands of Sir Richard Sutton, Davis gives a capital illustra- tion in the words of a "Huntsman Whipper-in " of the difference between the acts of the master and the acts of the man. " Sir Richard," says Mr. Davis, " hunts his own hounds, but his locum te?iens must not be forgotten, the prime, good, old John Shirley, one of nature's noblest works. To John Shirley Sir Richard has trusted all the care and business of the kennel and the discipline of his pack. The hounds are made to his hands ; Shirley is nominally and hard- workingly (if we may coin a word) the Huntsman. He was early initiated into the mysteries and duties of stable and kennel in the service of Thomas Assheton Smith, Esq. and we need not say more to convince that both are well grounded in him. He came to Lincoln with this gentleman, and it was here that Sir Richard knew his worth and abilities as a servant. After he had hunted the hounds for some seasons, it was signified to him that Sir Richard wished to take upon himself that task. His answer was, ' Well, Sir Richard, I am glad of it, very glad of it ; now, whatever you do wrong, be it ever so wrong, it will be called bad luck ; whenever / met with bad luck, / was called ignorantly wrong — that will be the difference. But go on — you will do it well.' "
And well Sir Richard has done it. Long may he continue to do it, say we.
Jack Shirley, we may remind our readers, is the Whipper-in described by Nimrod as riding the loose- headed old hunter down a hill in one of the worst fields in Leicestershire — between Tilton and Somerby, abounding with ant hills and deep furrows — the rider
THE WHIPPER-IN 85
putting a lash to his whip, with a large open clasp- knife between his teeth at the time.
Huntsmen Whippers-in are like lieutenant-colonels, they have the full command, except when the colonel is present. The simile, perhaps, is not quite good, for the presence of the colonel is the exception, whereas the absence of the Master is generally so in the hunting field. The seldomer the Master is absent, the greater, of course, the difficulty of the Huntsman Whipper-in when he is. Beckford relates how a Master of Harriers had found out that the use of a Whipper-in was to ride after the hare, and keep her in view as long as he could ; and we remember a Gentleman-Huntsman assigning a somewhat similar position to his Huntsman Whipper-in with foxhounds. Some one observing that he wondered the Gentleman- Huntsman kept a Huntsman when he did the thing so well himself, and was so constantly out, received for answer, that it was " convenient to have some one to ' blow up ' when things went wrong." " Blowing up," however, is more generally the perquisite of the second Whip than the first, he always being younger, and his place more easily supplied. We know "a Master" who used to use the second Whip for the purpose of blowing up the field. When he saw a man do wrong, he would send the Whip to ride within ear-shot of him, and then he would come storming up, reading the riot act to the boy, pretending he had done what the gentleman had done.
Having, however, compared the Huntsman Whip- per-in to the colonel of a regiment, we may pursue the military simile, and say, that as in the army the comfort of a subaltern is greatly dependent on the character and disposition of the colonel, so, in the hunting establishment, the comfort of the Whippers- in is greatly dependent on the manner and conduct of the Huntsman. Some Huntsmen are desperately coarse and overbearing with their Whips, especially
86 THE HUNTING FIELD
their second ones, and then having frightened and bullied their wits out of them, they wonder they are good for nothing. We dropped upon one of these bullying gentry unawares one day — a flash fool, who thought himself fit for anything, but of whose talent the world formed so different an opinion, that he is now out of place — and overheard a rating match that he thought was all between themselves. " Come and ride behind 7?ie, and don't be showing off there," said he, with all the importance of a lord-lieutenant, to a poor frightened lad he had stationed at a gorse cover corner, with orders not to move till he told him, an order that the lad had implicitly obeyed, but had unfortunately attracted a group of children, who, we suppose, the Huntsman thought would have been much better employed in looking at him. "Like master like man," is a very true saying, and in no instance more strongly exemplified than in Huntsmen and field servants. If the Master is a coarse, swear- ing, bullying fellow, the man will think it necessary to imitate him. Huntsmen, of all people, take their "cue" from the Master, and they have plenty of opportunity of observing the terms on which each sportsman stands with him. Whippers-in take their "cue" from the Huntsman, and much the same manners will be found to reign throughout an estab- lishment. To their credit, however, be it spoken, we scarcely ever met with anything like rudeness or incivility from a hound servant. Some have more manner than others, but they all "mean well." My lord's men are better drilled, have seen how things are done in other establishments, but Mr. Rattle- cover's, though they may not " sky scrape " quite so high, would be quite as ready to catch a stray horse, or set a fallen sportsman up on his hind legs. From catching loose horses Huntsmen are always exempt, they must go with their hounds, the office therefore devolves on the Whips, unless some other good
THE WHIPPER-IN 87
Samaritan anticipates them. Let the Whips be re- membered in the sportsman's " budget." They have no perquisites beyond their pay, and as every little makes a mickle, so a trifle from each sportsman will make a very comfortable addition to their income. Old Sportsmen, we know, will excuse our freedom in mentioning it. They do it already, the hint is for the " young entry " of the season.
But to the duties of second and third class Whip- pers-in. As yet we have only discussed the office of Huntsman Whipper-in, and glanced more at what the others ought not to do, than at what they ought. We will have recourse to our old friend, Beckford, on the subject.
"When you go from the kennel," says he, "the place of the first Whipper-in is before the hounds ; that of the second Whipper-in should be some dis- tance behind them ; if not, I doubt if they will be suffered even to empty themselves, let their necessities be ever so great, for as soon as a boy is made a Whipper-in, he fancies he is to whip the hounds whenever he can get at them, whether they deserve it or not."
Another gentleman, whom we quoted before, "Skim," says, "Some second Whippers-in conceive that they are placed behind the hounds on the road to flog up all that stop within their reach, as if they had a drove of pigs before them ; but the whip should never be applied unless for some immediate and decided fault."
Mr. Delme RadclifTe says : —
" The schooling of a pack will much depend upon the efficiency of the Whippers-in. The Huntsman is at this time endeavouring to attach every hound to himself, and will encourage all (particularly the timid hounds) as they are driven up to him by his assist- ants. A sensible and intelligent Whipper-in will very soon acquire some notions of the peculiar tempers
88 THE HUNTING FIELD
and dispositions of different hounds, so essential to a Huntsman ; and will not require to be perpetually cautioned against the indiscriminate administration of punishment. For one hound a word may suffice, while others may require as much payment as lawyers before they do anything ; with these it must neces- sarily be not only a word, but a word and a blow, and the blow first ; but nothing annoys me more than to see a cut made at a hound in the midst of others guiltless of the cause. It is ten to one but the lash, intended for Vagabond or Guilty, will descend upon Manager or Blameless, and render others shy to no purpose. The difficulty consists in contriving to awe the resolute without breaking the spirit of the timid."
" Whippers-in, like Huntsmen," writes Mr. Delme Radcliffe, " must feel a pride in their places, an interest in the credit and reputation of the pack, and thoroughly enjoy the sport, although their labour is not light, but, on the contrary, very arduous, and often harassing and vexatious. Without being able to ride, a man will, probably, not be placed in such a situation ; but they should be more than mere riders, they should be active and good horsemen, capable of distinguishing between the use and abuse of the horse intrusted to them."
Some gentlemen assist in turning hounds, some let them alone, lest they may be doing wrong, and get a " blessing " for their trouble ; while others console themselves with thinking that it is no business of theirs, and just let them have their fling until a Whipper-in arrives. Of course we would not insult modern sportsmen by supposing that any of them would be acquainted with the name of a hound so as to check him by it as well as by the whip, but in the absence of a Whipper-in there cannot be any harm in one of the field circumventing a delinquent, and turning him back into cover. Young hands ride
THE WHIPPER-IN 89
after hounds instead of riding round them, and the effort is sometimes productive of a fine trial of speed, generally terminating, however, by the intrusion of a fence, through which the hound skulks.
When a Whipper-in is by, however, it is best to let him do the work, because he can very likely effect it by a rate; at all events gentlemen should trust more to their actions than their voices, because the latter are strange to the hounds, but it must be a very dull dog that doesn't understand when a person is manoeuvring to lick him. The human voice divine is doubtless a fine popular organ, and perhaps it is a pity that the free use of it does not contribute to the success of the chase, for we never saw a hunting field yet where there was the slightest prospect of a deficiency of noise. We shall never have to import any of that, however. Some few men, however, are so modest or timid, that they are afraid of the sound of their own voices, and if they see a fox break cover, they get into such a delightful state of perturbation, that they don't know what the devil to do, and it perhaps takes them ten minutes or a quarter of an hour before they recover their faculties sufficiently to be able to tell anybody, and even then, they are often in such a nervous state of confusion, that very likely they have forgotten the place. For these gentlemen the hat is the thing. Indeed, a hat high in the air is worth a hundred halloos, especially if the hounds are in cover and don't see it. The Huntsman can then get them quietly out, lay them gently on, and in foxhunting, as in most other things, a good beginning is half the battle. The hounds settle well to the scent, reynard travelling quietly on, perhaps, hears them well in his rear ; he then has time to consider which way he will go, and, putting his head straight for his point, gives them a splitter.
Many a fox is lost in the first few minutes. But to the Whip—
go THE HUNTING FIELD
Beckford tells an amusing story of an amateur Whip, who was got rid of with the following polite- ness : — " A gentleman," says he, " perceiving his hounds to be much confused by the frequent halloos of a stranger, rode up to him, and thanked him with great civility for the trouble he was taking; but at the same time acquainted him that the two men he saw in green coats " (green, the deuce !) " were paid so much by the year on purpose to halloo, it would be needless for him, therefore, to give himself any further trouble."
The first Whipper-in, it seems to be clearly estab- lished, is to be an independent genius, capable of thinking and acting for himself, as exemplified in the case of Will Dean and the Daventry earths. The station of the second Whipper-in, says Mr. Beckford, " may be near the Huntsman, for which reason any boy that can halloo and make a whip smack may answer the purpose."
" May be near the Huntsman," and "may answer the purpose," writes our veteran, as though he thought an old head would be better. In truth, though all men must have a beginning, boy Whippers-in are generally as great nuisances as boy butlers. They are like the sham " captain," the London leg proposed to hold the stakes between the Yorkshire yeoman and himself at Doncaster races : " If you doubt me," said the leg, with great apparent hauteur, " my friend, the captain, here, shall hold the money." "But whe hads captin ? " asked the wily old Yorkshire tyke, with a shake of the head. "The boy Whipper-in looks after the hounds, but who looks after the boy?"
We once saw a fine scene between a Yorkshire scratch pack Huntsman, and a newly caught yokel of a lad in topboots, a twilled jacket, and jockey cap. They had fallen out in coming to cover, and the lad arrived in the sulks. Scratch packs seldom tarry long at the meet, for the best of all reasons — the hounds
THE WHIPPER-IN 91
worit stay, and moving towards the cover, a cur dog took fright, and went away like a fox, with all the pack full cry after him. Yokel sat grinning. " Torn them hooundes" roared the Huntsman. " Tor?i them thyself" replied the youth.
That sort of work, however, will not do for our second Whip, who is supposed to belong to a regular establishment. " There is nothing like experience for impressing things properly on people's minds," says Mr. Delme Radcliffe, "especially if the consequences are disagreeable" — indeed, according to him, the mind is not the only part susceptible of an impres- sion. In elucidation of this, he relates an anecdote of a " hawbuck," who being monstrously bothered with the word "miracle" that occurred frequently in the course of a sermon, requested an explanation of it from the clergyman after the service was over. The reverend gentleman gave bunch-clod a tremendous kick behind, asking him at the same time if it "hurt him?" "Hurt me/" exclaimed bunch, "you've hurt me most woundily." " Then," replied the clergy- man, "it would have been a miracle if I had not." To bring this to bear upon hunting, Mr. Radcliffe recommends practical inconvenience for properly impressing the duties of a second Whipper-in.
"Send your second Whipper-in back," says he, " some miles after hunting, and insist upon his return in good time, not without some hounds that may be missing ; he will be for the future more awake to the advantage of minding his business, than by repeated lectures upon the expediency of keeping the pack together. Follow this principle up, if you would have deeds rather than words prevail throughout your establishment." Our Yorkshire friend, if sent on such an errand, would have replied, "seek them thysel."
"The duty of a second Whipper-in," says Skim, " is to send on a hound that hangs, to bring up tail
92 THE HUNTING FIELD
hounds, and to mind all that passes in the rear of his Huntsman ; and when all are before him together, and clear of the wood, to act as occasion may require." " As occasion may require " is a fine com- prehensive phrase, capable of containing anything.
The greatest vice hound servants, whether Hunts- men, first or second Whips, can be guilty of, is that of drinking, and unfortunately it is one to which they are peculiarly exposed. Every person likes to treat them with a glass of something, so what with one glass here and another glass there, they stand a very fair chance of becoming, what country people call, tipplers, that is to say, people who do not get blind drunk, but who are always getting a drop.
" Bless me ! " exclaimed old Peter Pigskin, as we were jogging to cover together the other morning, " Bless me ! there's Mr. Lapitup drinking a glass of grog at yon public-house door. He's drank fifteen hundred a-year, and he's dry still!"
Gentlemen are not altogether exempt from the charge of encouraging drinking. When hounds meet at their houses, they are very apt to send the butler, or Jeames Plush, out with the brandy-bottle, or some- thing equally potent, and then there's pretty crashing and flashing, leaping of gates, and larking at rails. It is a bad principle, and a custom that had better be commuted into a goose, or a whole bottle of some- thing at Christmas; after a long ride, or on a cold raw morning, a glass may be all very well. It is against the abuse, and not the use of spirits that we contend.
We do not object to hospitality to servants; far from it, but then we advocate its exercise at season- able times. After a good run, no one would object to the frothing tankard flowing round — not even Father Mathew himself, provided that great water saint had first experienced the delightful delirium of a wet shirt, got in a hard ridden run ; neither would
THE WHIPPER-IN 93
a glass of something hot and water after a cold wet trashing day be objected to, but rather recommended, but it is indiscriminate cold-blooded dri?iki?ig that should be avoided. It is a dangerous, a ruinous thing. One glass this year leads to two next, and so they go on till ruin is the result. Servants may take our word for it, that in no station or calling in life will drinking answer. A drunken man is not a man, he is only half a man, sometimes not so much. Hound servants, as we said before, are exposed to great temptations. They have frequently to lie from home at night, at inns and public-houses, and we all know the customs of landlords, and the treating habits of tap-rooms. Even in moving about home, exercising hounds, or looking after kennel matters, they are always liable to the offer.
The farmers, the saddlers, the blacksmiths, the bootmakers, all like to give them a drop. They belong to a popular sport, and are popular characters. We once heard an amusing story of Jack Shirley going from Lincolnshire to Mr. Ralph Lambton's, with a draft of hounds, and what was his surprise on getting into the county of Durham (where he had never been before) at finding himself accosted every now and then by the familiar "Jack," and asked what he would drink? He was taken for Jack Winter, Mr. Lambton's Huntsman, whom he greatly resembled.
In the matter of " drink," gentlemen are very apt to treat hound servants as they treat the unfortunate sisters of the pave — debauch them first, and then blame them for being what they are ; give them drink, and then abuse them for being drunk. Each man thinks what he himself gives can do no harm ; but if hounds met before gentlemen's houses every day they went out, it would be the ruin of half the establishments going. Mr. Vyner comments severely on the vice of drunkenness, and gives the following
94 THE HUNTING FIELD
amusing anecdote of what happened with the men belonging to his pack : —
" There can be but one opinion upon the vice of drunkenness in any man," says he, " and the second fault in either a Huntsman or Whipper-in ought to be the last to be overlooked. Many of my readers may, I have no doubt, been disgusted in the course of their lives by such an outrage; but to see a Whipper-in drunk on champagne would be rather a novel sight. I remember once meeting at the house of a jolly good foxhunter 'of the olden time,' who shall be nameless, where he had a most splendid breakfast upon the occasion ; and our worthy host, not being content with giving his guests plenty of that exhilarating beverage, absolutely sent a bottle out to the men who were waiting with the hounds upon the lawn : the result may be imagined. Upon remonstrating with the elder of the two upon this most disgraceful occurrence, the answer was, that he was sorry for what had happened, but that he thought there could be no harm in the contents of the bottle, as he had seen a lady drinking some of the same kind through the window just before."
" This man," adds Mr. Vyner, " had but one fault in the world; in other respects he was a most excellent and trustworthy servant, and one of the quickest and best sportsmen I ever saw handle a whip ; he had lived twenty years in two of the most noted hunting establishments in England, but gin became his ruin."
Drink is a thing that, sooner or later, shows itself in all men, and, perhaps, in Huntsmen and Whips sooner than in most, through the medium of the voice. There is a huskiness about the voice of the dram-drinker, far removed from the joyful, cheerful note, of the sound, healthy-lunged, sober man; in- deed, we sometimes fancy that men's voices sound differently after a "lawn meet," to what they do at
THE WHIPPER-IN 95
the ordinary run of the hunting fixtures. After the huskiness comes the broken voice of the old practi- tioner. We have heard men whose notes have been broken right in two.
It is curious to see how hunting runs in families — to see how certain names pervade our different hunt- ing establishments — how like begets like, and son succeeds father. Shirley, for instance, has a son Huntsman to Sir John Cope : old Tom Ball, if we mistake not, has one or two Whipper-in sons — one, we know, whipped-in to Mountford, in Leicestershire, in Lord Suffield's time, and we think there was another with the Pytchley, during Mr. Payne's first occupation of the country, if not in Lord Chester- field's reign. Smith, Lord Yarborough's Huntsman, is great-grandson of the first Huntsman of that name ; his father, our readers may remember, had the mis- fortune to break his neck at a trifling place the very last day of a season.
Mr. Davis, speaking of Smith, the father, in the " Hunter's Annual," where, of him and his two sons, as Whippers-in, capital likenesses are given, says —
" Of the natural requisites for a Huntsman of fox- hounds, so much has been said before, and really so much seems to be expected, that a man to shine in this department is one to be chosen out of ten thousand, and then his youth ought to be spent in the education fitting his peculiar line of life. It has been said of Smith, that if schooling had done as much for him as nature had endowed him with, that no situation in life would be too high for his powers. It is highly honourable to him and his family, that he is the third generation filling the office of Hunts- man to the Brocklesby Hunt. In 18 16, the Lord Yarborough of that day presented the grandfather of the present Huntsman with a handsome silver cup, capable of holding the liberal quantity of upwards of two quarts, on which was this inscription — ' The gift
96 THE HUNTING FIELD
of Lord Yarborough to his Huntsman, after having been more than fifty years in his service; made as an acknowledgment of that indefatigable and unremit- ting attention to the business of his vocation, which may be recommended for a pattern to those who succeed him, and can never be surpassed.' " Of the estimation in which the late one was held by the country, we add a description of the present made to him by his sporting friends : — A large salver, with a bold and richly-embossed edge and border, and a broad chased wreath encircling a plain shield in the centre, on which is engraved — "This salver and a teapot, coffeepot, sugar-basin, and cream-ewer (pur- chased by subscribers of five shillings each), were presented to Mr. William Smith by his friends and the sportsmen in the Brocklesby Hunt, as a testimony of their high estimation of his propriety of conduct and great ability as a Huntsman: October, 1834." Sebright had a somewhat similar present from the gentlemen and yeomen of Lord Fitzwilliam's Hunt, in 1836. Sebright is another instance of the passion for hunting running in families. He is the son of a famous Huntsman, and was almost nursed in the kennel. He has gone through all the gradations of service. At fifteen he entered the list of Whips under West, who hunted the old Surrey when Mr. Nevill was Master. He then went to Mr. Osbal- deston, and from him he came to Lord Fitzwilliam. Skinner is a good name. There were three brothers at work with hounds a few years since, all by old Skinner, who was five-and-fifty years with Mr. Meynell. There were four Hills, all Huntsmen or first Whippers-in at the same time. Tom and his brother Peckham in Surrey, Jem in Wiltshire, and Dick in Oxfordshire, or Jem in Oxfordshire and Dick in Wiltshire, we forget which. The Oldacres were all sportsmen, and the name not to be beat; the celebrated old Tom was father of two Huntsmen.
THE WHIPPER-IN 97
Treadwell is a good name in the hunting world. There are two brothers who have graduated from Huntsmen-Whipper-in-ships to be regular Huntsmen ; one under Mr. Codrington and Mr. Horlock, the other under Mr. Smith of the Craven. Mr. Codring- ton's Treadwell now hunts Mr. Farquharson's hounds, and has a son a Whipper-in with the Hambledon ; Charles, Mr. Smith's one, is now Huntsman with Lord Harewood. Old Tom Rose got young Tom Rose; and, if we mistake not, Tom Wingfield, Mr. Drake's Huntsman, in Oxfordshire, is son of Tom Wingfield, who whipped-in to Raven and Goodall in Leicestershire in Lord Sefton's time. Mr. Drake's Huntsman, Wingfield, has, or had, a Whipper-in of the name of Goodall, very likely a son of Goodall the Huntsman. Tom Leedham, Mr. Meynell Ingram's Huntsman, is or was whipped-in to by his two sons. There is one name, " Jones," that is about extinct in the hunting field. Mr. Meynell had a famous cork- legged Whipper-in of that name, who was also a bit of an author, and published some journals of their doings. He was a great rider and a great drinker also. They say he used sometimes to get so drunk that he could not recollect, when he awoke in the morning, where he had left his leg over-night. There was also a Robert Jones, who hunted a joint pack, kept by the late Colonel Wardle and the late Sir Harry Goodricke's father, in Flintshire. The cele- brated Tom Crane, afterwards Huntsman to the Fife hounds, came, we believe, from that part of the king- dom, and has left no hunting descendants that we know of. Crane, from all accounts, was a most extraordinary man. It was said of him that one of his eyes was worth two of most other men's, and that his ear was as true as his eye was quick. Crane hunted the Duke of Wellington's hounds during the Peninsular war, and one day in the ardour followed his hounds almost into the enemy's camp. 7
98
THE HUNTING FIELD
Most of these men rose from the ranks, that is to say, from Whipper-in-ships.
John Winter entered life as Pad-Groom under Mr. Ralph Lambton in Leicestershire, in Mr. Meynell's time, and passed through all the gradations of second and first Whip, and Huntsman Whipper-in, when Mr. Lambton hunted the hounds. Dick Foster whipped-in to Lord Foley, in Worcestershire; Will Long whipped-in to Philip Payne with the Duke of Beaufort's ; the late Jack Richards, Huntsman to the Badsworth, whipped-in to Sir Bellingham Graham, in the Atherstone country; so did Will Staples, after- wards Huntsman to Sir Rowland Hill — Will was by old Tom Staples, once Huntsman to Lord Middleton. In short, most of our eminent men have filled the subordinate offices of Whipper-in, and risen to emi- nence by talent and good conduct. Let the rising generation emulate them ; but let them remember that talent is of no use without conduct. Above all, let them beware of the drink.
CHAPTER IX
THE EARTH-STOPPER
Six crafty Earth-stoppers in hunters' green drest, Supported poor Tom to 'an earth' made for rest."
Tom Moody.
ERTAIN things there are we never wished to be — we never wished to be a sailor ; we never wished to be an " old Charley j " we never wished to be a great spangled cock ballet dancer at the Opera ; we never wished to be Lord Mayor of York ; we never wished to be Mr. Green, the aeronaut ; we never wished to be a dentist ; we never wished to be King of the Cannibal Islands; we never wished to be a surgeon-accoucheur; we never wished to be postmaster of Heligoland ; we never wished to be Stunning Joe Banks ; and, most certainly, we never wished to be an Earth- stopper. An Earth-stopper ! oh, no ! Of all cold, candle-light, frigid, cheerless, teeth-chattering, arm- flopping occupations, that of an Earth - stopper assuredly is the most so. When all the world is "snoring," fast asleep, our unfortunate woodland
ioo THE HUNTING FIELD
watchman has to leave his downy couch and encounter the elements and roughnesses of the thicket. Lord bless us ! fancy such a night as last, the rain beating against the casements, the wind howling, and blowing a perfect hurricane : the brooks swelled into torrents, the rivers into seas; and fancy having to leave the warm house, the bright crackling fire, to grope and prowl about the country like a thief in the night time : a man ought to be well paid for such wTork as that.
Earth-stoppers are of two sorts — the resident Earth- stopper, and the head Earth-stopper, or Earth-stopper in Eyre, as the old law books designate the judges of assize. The head Earth-stopper is an officer peculiar to great establishments ; he is like the military inspector of a district, and it is his business to go about and see that his subordinates do their duty. In summer he receives and examines into the truth of reported breeds ; in winter he sees that the right range of country is properly stopped ; and, above all, properly opened. The Earth-stopper only does half his business who only stops the earths ; opening them after hunting is quite as important.
Yon weather-beaten old man, in the two-year old cap, and three-year old coat, is the head of the department of our hunt ; he is to the Earth-stopping fraternity what the "superintendent" is to the police; he is paid by the year, they by the stop. Old Foxfix, for such is his name, is a varmint looking old fellow, and when the old grey — or rather white — is away from the high conditioned horses of the field, and the new scarlet coats of the men do not throw the old plum colour into the shade, he makes a very respectable appearance. He knows every hill — every rise from which a view of the varmint may be obtained ; and often when the chase has lagged, and hopes began to pall, old Foxfix's cap, on the sky line of the horizon, has infused joy into the field below,
THE EARTH-STOPPER 101
and brought hounds, horses, and men, to his welcome and undoubted halloo.
The Earth-stopper is generally a popular man in the country, and many of them are as good hands at rinding their ways into the earths of farmers and gentlemen's houses, as they are at finding the fox earths. Besides ascertaining the breeds and probable number of foxes, they have also to hear evidence as to their ravages, and keep a check on the poultry account. Here they act as middle men between the Master and the hen farmer, and in this department we would advise them to give the cast of the scale in favour of the farmer. Never mind if the hunt does pay for a few more hens and geese than reynard really consumes. Foxhunters pay nothing for field damage, hedging, rail-mending, and so on ; and, moreover, the poultry is generally the perquisite of the ladies, to whom foxhunters are always ready to do suit and service. Indeed, were we a Master — which had we to make out a catalogue of wishes instead of one of objections — we should place at the head of the list — we should always be glad to hear of a good lot of poultry damage. We should regard the ravages of reynard much as we regard the appetite of our friend Peter Pigskin, who it does our heart good to see feed. The more damage say we the more foxes, at least we would flatter ourselves so, though some ungentlemanly foxes certainly will com- mit waste as well as proper plunder. These, how- ever, are the shabby dogs of the country, who generally die ignominiously in cover, their distended bellies "with fat capon lined."
In no instance is the popularity or unpopularity of a Master more apparent than in the abundance or scarcity of foxes. The man who can command a country full of foxes without the aid of a super- intendent Earth-stopper, resembles a monarch who can trust himself among his people without a body
102 THE HUNTING FIELD
guard. There is no criterion — in a hunting country at least — so infallible as a goodly show of foxes. It shows that the farmers and the country people are pleased — rank, wealth, large demesne, will not insure what the single word " popularity " will achieve. Popularity is, in truth, the foundation of foxhunting. It is very true that the sport is popular itself, but it is also equally true that a popular man with moderate means will far outstrip in his show of foxes the richest millionaire who lacks that quality.
Not that we mean to insinuate that keeping a regular Earth-stopper is any sign of want of popu- larity ; on the contrary, we have known some most popular Masters who have always had them, but we say that half a-hundred regular Earth-stoppers will not insure foxes to a Master who is personally offensive or objectionable. Fox - preserving, like voting by ballot, is a good deal matter of conscience. A man promises to " preserve " just as he promises to " vote " for you, but if he keeps his own counsel you cannot detect the contrary. After all is said and done, there- fore, popularity is the best fox-finder.
There is something very sporting and picturesque about a fox earth. They are generally in romantic, sequestered, secluded places ; in deep ravines, or on the side of woody hills. Their adjuncts are all pure and rural. The clean thrown up sand at the mouth, the projecting rock above, or knarled root supporting its lofty time-honoured oak, with the little accompani- ments of bright growing hazel, knotty black thorn, and withered fern or faded heath. It is strange how fox after fox draws to the same spot ; what was a breeding earth a century ago is a breeding earth now, and is as notorious to a country as a turnpike gate. How creditable it is to the lower orders that they should be held, as they are, inviolate, at least in all countries where hounds come, or are even expected to come. The man who has killed a fox is quite as
THE EARTH-STOPPER 103
much an object of execration among the lower orders, as the acred vulpecide is in the higher circles, with the disagreeable addition of moving among men accus- tomed to speak their minds without the gloss of courtly phraseology. " Who shot the fox ? " is an exclamation that has sent many a skulking vagabond out of the public-house, when a group of honest rustics have been exulting over a day's sport. Indeed, the lower orders set an example well worthy the imitation of many who call themselves their superiors in their respect for the fox. They look upon him as a sort of privileged animal. He even seems to shed a sort of lustre over those in any way connected with him. Ask the first people you meet in a village where the constable lives, and they either can't or won't tell you, but ask where the man lives " wot stops the fox earths," and they will not only tell you, but accompany you to the door. This is as it should be, and long may it continue so. It is this that gets Earth-stoppers — it is this that makes men nervous and fidgetty in their beds, lest they oversleep themselves, and very possibly causes them to bolt master reynard's door before he has left the house. They are anxious for the sport themselves, and anxious for the amuse- ment of the country at large. They feel that the honours of the day are greatly dependent on them, and are correspondingly alive to their duties.
Mr. Daniel, in his "Rural Sports," says, "The fox knows how to ensure safety, by providing himself with an asylum, which he either does by dispossessing the badger, or digs the earth himself; in either case it is so contrived as to afford the best security to the inhabitants by being situated under hard ground, the roots of trees, &c. and is, besides, furnished by the fox with proper outlets, through which he may escape from every quarter; here he retires from pressing dangers, and here brings up his young ; so that the fox is not a wanderer, but lives in a settled domestic
104 THE HUNTING FIELD
state." Daniel makes him quite a respectable cha- racter, a housekeeper in fact, with a back and front door to his residence, though we cannot say we ever saw an earth with such accommodation. In running to ground where rabbits abound, it is not uncommon for reynard to bolt out of one hole while the fox- hunting "navies" are busy at another, but those holes are made by the " bunnies," not by the foxes ; reynard is there only a lodger. Speaking of his domestic habits, Daniel says further, "The idea of a settled place of abode indicates a singular attention to self; the choice of a situation and of rendering that abode commodious, and of concealing the avenues to it, imply a superior degree of sentiment ; the fox is endowed with this quality, and manages it with advantage ; he prefers the covers near dwellings, where he listens to the cries of the poultry ; in his attacks upon them he chooses the time with judgment, and concealing his road, slips forward with caution, and seldom makes a fruitless expedition." Daniel had not been much of a fox-man, we think, or else the animal must have changed its habits a good deal since his book was written. We have often seen foxes found in covers in the neighbourhood of farm- houses, but we do not remember at this moment ever seeing an earth at all that would be called close to farm buildings. Daniel's book, however, was written forty years ago, since when foxhunting has undergone considerable change, particularly the lodg- ing— we might almost say the domestication of foxes. We have now all sorts of artificial contrivances, from the fagot cover down to Mr. Smith's masonic drain. In Daniel's time, indeed, it seems to have been a " moot " point whether foxes were entitled to protection or not, just as we have heard people contend for the right to shoot persons who have the luck to be out- lawed. Daniel says, " The destruction and preserva- tion of foxes are points upon which there is a differ-
THE EARTH-STOPPER 105
ence of opinion ; the law holds out a reward for the death of the a?iimal, to be paid by the churchwardens of every parish, whilst the foxhunters and their friends use all possible exertions to protect the breed and increase their numbers." He then gives the letter of a nobleman to his agent in Leicestershire, desiring the agent to show every accommodation to the tenants who had been friendly to the hunts of " Lord Spencer, the Duke of Rutland, Mr. Meynell, and Lord Stam- ford." " On the other hand," writes the noble lord, "you will take care and make very particular inquiries into the conduct of those tenants who shall have shown a contrary disposition, by destroying foxes or encouraging others so to do, or otherwise interrupting gentlemen's diversion, and will transmit me their names and places of abode, as it is my absolute determination that such persons shall not be treated with in future by me upon any terms or consideration whatever. I am convinced that landowners, as well as farmers and labourers of every description, if they knew their own interest, would perceive that they owe much of their prosperity to those popular hunts, by the great influx of money that is annually brought into the country ; I shall therefore use my utmost endeavours to induce all persons of my acquaintance to adopt similar measures ; and I am already happy to find that three gentlemen of very extensive landed property in Leicestershire, and on the borders of Northamptonshire, have positively sent, within these few days, similar directions to their stewards, which their tenants will be apprised of before they re-take their farms at next Lady-Day. My sole object is, having the good of the community at heart, as you and all my tenants know that my sporting days have been over some time ago."
That letter is as good now as it was the day it was written.
Having mentioned Mr. Smith's artificial earths or
106 THE HUNTING FIELD
drains, we may here quote what he says on the subject of stopping, in his " Diary of a Hunts- man."
"Hunting countries," says he, "which abound with fox-earths are very liable to have blank days, according to the usual method of arrangements ; for where there are earths, foxes at times will be in them when they are wanted elsewhere, even when the Earth-stoppers do their duty; but the first question to put is, whether it is likely that a man can be depended on to get up long before daylight in the coldest and most dreary part of the winter, to stop a cold earth and leave the warmer clay by his side. It's all very well for men to say " yes ! " and that they know they do their duty properly, for they have sent down to ascertain it. Ascertain what? that the earths were stopt before it was light. What matter that ? how long before light does a fox go to ground at this time, when it is not light much before eight o'clock, this being three hours later than at other parts of the season ; and they are consequently more often stopt after the fox has gone in than before, and a very little ingenuity will extort this fact from an Earth-stopper, that he has often found his stopping removed by a fox scratching out when he has gone to take it out himself next morning, which accounts for many blank days."
Some amusing productions used to be published a few years ago, under the title of " Sporting Almanacks," and assuredly, as far as making sport went, they were rightly named. In them the commencement of hunting used to be fixed as accurately as Horncastle Fair or Doncaster Races. Such a day of September harehunting commenced — such a day of October foxhunting began, without any reference whatever to the seasons. Earth-stopping is dealt with in a similar way by certain sporting compilers — between such an hour and such an hour the Stopper is directed to be
THE EARTH-STOPPER 107
at his work, without reference to weather, season, localities, moon, or anything, just as if foxes had their dressing and dinner bells, and went to feed with the punctuality of their pursuers. " We may be wrong," as Mr. Meynell used to say, but we take it foxes resemble a gay club living bachelor, much more than a punctual six o'clock family man. They like their chicken, or lamb chops, just at their own time, with- out the restraint of specified hours. Reynard may have fallen in with something dainty in the middle of the day, and may not feel inclined to turn out on the grand prowl till a later or earlier hour in the morning. He may put his nose out and find it raining, and having neither cloak, macintosh, or clogs, may decide that he is not hungry, or that he has a little something in his larder in the neighbourhood that he can get when the weather improves.
From an hour before midnight, till about three o'clock in the morning, is the prescribed time of the authorities, though should it be moonlight, and reynard hungry, we don't see what is to detain him at home so late. Better, however, to be late than too early, for it is unpleasant, both to fox and followers, to have him in the "lock-up house" when he is wanted at large.
Mr. Smith was an advocate — indeed the inventor of the system of walling up earths at the beginning of the season, the duties of the Earth-stoppers being to see that the fagots, or whatever the barrier was made of, were not removed until the spring, when the vixens were let in to a lay up. A deduction was made from the pay of a man for each time a fox got to ground in his district.
Mr. Smith, indeed, considers the disadvantages of having earths are so much greater than the advantages, that if every earth in the country were done away with, it would be a benefit to foxhunting, even as respects the breeding of foxes, for the vixens would
108 THE HUNTING FIELD
breed above ground in furze, or would find drains which no one knows of.
Colonel Cook published an estimate some years since of the expense of hunting a country, which has been quoted and requoted till we are tired of seeing it, for it has always appeared to us that the expense of hunting one country affords no more clue to the expense of hunting another, than does the manage- ment of foxes and fox-earths in one country afford a guide to the management of foxes and fox-earths in another. Almost all countries are now hunted after some fashion or other, and a good thing it is that they are, for it not only keeps men at home, but it affords sport and amusement to many who would otherwise not get out at all, but one country may have too many foxes, while an adjoining, and better one, may be short of them. The better a country is, the greater the trouble, difficulty, and expense of keeping it stocked with foxes. This is self-evident, for the greater the security, the greater the temptation to foxes; hence the necessity of hunting good and bad places alternately, or the foxes will be all huddled together in the bad places. Hills, forests, deans, crags, rocks, are all friendly to foxes, but unfavour- able to the progression of the chase. We remember breakfasting with a Master of wiry-haired, rough mountain hounds once, when the servant came in to say that a neighbouring farmer had sent word that he must shoot the fox if the gentleman did not come to hunt him, for that reynard was constantly eyeing his lambs. "Tell him to blaze away," replied the gentleman, adding as the servant left the room, "if there were fewer foxes I should kill more, but the fact is, if I ask a man in this country to stay his hand, he will think he has a claim on me for damage, whereas I hold out that I have a claim on them for keeping down the stock of foxes, besides," continued he, "there are many chances in reynard's favour as it
THE EARTH-STOPPER 109
is. First of all, it's ten to one that the old blunder- buss will go off; secondly, if it does go off, it's twenty to one but the farmer misses, and the fox will know just as well as him that he has got something in his hand, and will take good care not to let him come within reach." Good logic in the mountains, but not in the vales. Contrast it with the doings in Hertford- shire as described by Mr. Delme Radcliffe, who truly says that a fox there is worth his weight in gold. Speaking of the fees to keepers he says : —
" In the first place, I condemn the fixed price set upon each day's amusement, the extravagance of the terms upon which hounds leave their kennel, as likely to operate, at some time or other, seriously against bye-days ; and as an increase of contingent expense which might well be spared. Secondly, I assert, that with all the good will and support of the nobility, squirearchy, and yeomanry, the Master of Hounds in this, or any other similarly circumstanced country, is virtually at the mercy of Gamekeepers and Earth- stoppers. For every fox that is found, from one end of the country to the other, the sum of one sovereign is booked, allowed, and regularly paid. The fees of Earth-stoppers, from half-a-crown to ten or fifteen shillings, according to the number of stops within the province of each, amount on the average to four pounds per diem. Thus, supposing that the sport is limited to the finding of one fox, we start with an expense of five pounds as the smallest tax upon the day, independent of all the inevitable wear and tear. So long as the subordinates have as much interest in foxes as farmers have in their stock or any kind of property, it is not to be wondered that the animal abounds ; and it is equally clear that it would be better that they should cost two sovereigns each, than that the stock should be diminished, seeing that there is no medium — that they are, or are not, that they are altogether preserved, or utterly destroyed —
no THE HUNTING FIELD
as there is no such thing as modification in the forms of vulpecide." This is expensive work certainly, but we do not see how it is to be remedied. Foxhunting, without foxes, will never do ; there is nothing more disheartening than riding from cover to cover, with the full conviction that each will be a blank. We knew a man who went to an enormous expense with his hounds, but somehow or other, he could not find in his heart to pay his Earth-stoppers properly, conse- quently the whole outlay — some thousands per annum — was absolutely sacrificed for a paltry saving of a couple of five pound notes, for we really do not suppose the difference between what he did pay, and what he ought, would have amounted to more in the year. " Hertfordshire " does not sound much like hunting, and doubtless this is an ex-treme case, and one that is not likely ever to become general. In fact, none but a rich country could stand such work. A bad custom, however, is much easier introduced than got rid of, and gentlemen in other countries will do well to take warning by Hertfordshire. The mischief here appears to be the "patent office" of keeper, the fees to Earth-stoppers not being higher than in other countries. Earth-stoppers should be well paid. Theirs is the worst office connected with hunting. A little pettyfogging economy is badly exercised with them.
Mr. Vyner says that in Warwickshire, in 1830, the Hunt Committee reduced the pay of the Earth- stoppers to half, and the result was, what might be expected, in about half the covers " no find."
An occasional " tip " to a keeper is all very well, but the regularly "booked demand," described by Mr. Delme Radcliffe, "carries absurdity and in- consistency on the face of it," as exposed by the honourable gentleman himself, who says "that it is done, notwithstanding most of the great game pre- servers in Hertfordshire have as much or far more
THE EARTH-STOPPER in
pleasure in the possession of foxes than of game in their coverts ; therefore it appears somewhat absurd that they should be compelled to become parties to the purchase of them from the very servants whose duty it is to protect them. The Master stipulates with his keeper no less for the protection of the fox than of the pheasant, and yet allows an extra- ordinary premium to be paid, a prize to be directly awarded to him for the fulfilment of that, in de- fault of which he should, and generally would, be discharged."
Mr. Delme RadclifTe suggests the following remedy : —
" I would not entirely abolish rewards to keepers," says he, " by way of encouragement in the shape of douceurs at Christmas, or at the end of the season ; but I would have no regular charge for finds, nor even regular charges for Earth-stopping, excepting in coverts expressly hired for the purposes of the hunt. There such payments might be a part of the wages of those employed ; but I would have the preserva- tion of the foxes, and the stopping of the earths for hunting matters, entirely dependent upon their respective proprietors. I would have every lord of a domain make a point of enforcing his determination to contribute gratuitously all in his power to the noble sport."
A very good resolution, say we ; but suppose the said lord is a shooter, how then? Foxhunters are very apt to fancy that every one must favour their sport, but some apparently very friendly people would have no objection to see foxhunting abolished altogether.
"Instead of a regular bill, amounting to from ^10 to £IS t0 be presented by a keeper," writes Mr. Radcliffe, " as the price of his forbearance, in per- mitting the existence of animals considered obnoxious to game, and, in reality, destructive to the rabbits,
ii2 THE HUNTING FIELD
which are his perquisites, I would have £$ the maximum of remuneration. Such a sum might be adequate compensation to any good servant for the trouble of doing his duty, and would be received merely as a token of approbation of the manner in which he discharged it, when the success of his endeavours entitled him to such consideration. There can be no reason why underkeepers, or other labourers, might not as well undertake the earth- stopping, on account of their regular employer, as on that of recompense from a separate body."
"It has been always the custom, in Herts," continues our author, " to hold two Earth-stopper feasts, one on each side of the country; the Huntsman presiding : they are attended by all the Gamekeepers, Earth-stoppers, et hoc genus omne, of the districts ; the annual expense of both seldom exceeding ,£30 ; and they tend to implant, and keep alive, sentiments most desirable to cherish."
Mr. Smith devotes a whole chapter to keepers, between whom and the world at large he seems anxious to do justice.
" There is an old saying," writes he, " ' give a dog a bad name and hang him,' — which maxim is too often applied to gamekeepers : for there are some who are really friends to foxhunting, and who have more pride in showing foxes with their pheasants, that is in the same covers, than any others can have in showing pheasants without them : innumerable instances can be proved that foxes and pheasants can be had in abundance in the same covers, particularly where there are rabbits : the writer has seen five foxes cross a ride in a cover, and nearly as many hundred pheasants."
In the following, Mr. Smith hits the right nail on the head : —
" The great objection which keepers have to foxes is, that they destroy so great a number of rabbits, which
THE EARTH-STOPPER 113
are the keeper's perquisites, and consequently they are disposed to destroy foxes."
No doubt about it, and therefore the remedy is not to let the keeper have rabbits. Some people will say they won't come without. Won't they, indeed ! We know a gentleman who advertised for a keeper, and had thirty applications in one week. Keepers are not like Huntsmen or Whips, men that are difficult to meet with. As Mr. Grantley Berkeley, the great game authority of the day, says, " Any man who can shoot a hawk sitting will do for a keeper."
"It is a difficult thing," adds Mr. Smith, "to know how to act with them ; but it is much the wisest plan to treat them civilly, even if they are doubtful, until proofs can be brought against them that they do destroy foxes against their master's will; for there are many keepers most highly respectable men, and indeed, under any circumstances, it is the height of folly to abuse them openly, as is too often done."
Mr. Smith afterwards relates an anecdote of a most righteous keeper, who, being accused of killing cubs, which he offered to take any sized oath he did not, on the act being brought home to him, candidly said, " Well, then, I did do it ; for it would be unnatural in me not to kill what I was brought up to do."
We are, however, getting rather off the line, but keepers are so connected with foxes and Earth- stoppers, that we could hardly avoid touching upon them. We agree with Mr. Smith that there are many highly respectable men among keepers, men who are really fond of hunting, and we are not sure that in some instances where they are blamed, the fault is with the Earth-stopper. Of course an Earth-stopper cannot " ring " the foxes out at a certain hour, as the bellman does the merchants on the Royal Exchange, and he must just " stop " at the likeliest time for the majority to be roaming ; and, if any stay at home 8
14
THE HUNTING FIELD
when they ought to be out, why they must just go without their suppers. Do not, however, let sports- men condemn a keeper for an occasional blank. Who knows but a fox, finding his earth stopped, may say to himself, " I'll cut my stick ; for, if I mistake not, those terrible high bred dogs of Mr. Rattlecover's will be here to-day." It is not attributing too much sagacity to the wily animal to suppose that he will recognise the features that preceded a former dis- comfiture. Foxes are quite as good hands as other animals at discriminating where harm is meant and none — who are their friends and who not. How leisurely a fox disturbed by the sombre dressed shooter trots away, sniffing the air and looking over his shoulder, as much as to say, these bothersome people are not wanting me. He takes them as coolly as the "Artful Dodger "would take a policeman in quest of a comrade with whom he has not been doing " business " lately.
Here is old Foxfix himself, we