This Book belongs
. . to . .

TUFTS UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES

3 9090 014 537 035

JOHNA.SEAVERNS

n

THE

HUNTING-FIELD,

Webster Family Library of Veterinary Medicine

€umrr?ings School of Veterinary Medicine at

Tufts University

200 Westboro Road

North Grafton. MA 01536

LONDON

FEINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO.

NEW-STREET SQUARE.

t^l

/

THE '

HIJNTING-riELD

BY

HARRY HIEOVER

AUTHOR OF "the STUD" "PRACTICAL HORSEM AXSHIP " ETC. ETC.

^£toni) €bitiott.

LONDON
LONGMAN, BKOWN, OKEEN, LONGMANS, & ROBEETS.

1859

5^5

PREFACE.

In a former work, namely, " Practical Horse-
manship," I gave such hints on ordinary riding
as I trusted would be useful to the reader, based
as they were on principles that I found, when put
in practice, had usually answered their intended
purpose.

But that work was confined exclusively to road
riding ; and my motive in limiting it to that branch
of equestrianism arose from deference to what I
conceived might be the wishes and interest of the
reader. If he only wants to practise road riding,
he has there the best advice I can give; and if he
wishes to become acquainted with hunting riding,
he will find the subject discussed in the present
volume — " The Hunting-Field."

That there are thousands of hunting riders to
whom it would be the height of arrogance in me
to offer any advice, I am quite aware ; and if such
should think proper to peruse this book, that they
will only do so from curiosity, or to pass away an

A 3

VI PKEFACE.

idle hour, I am aware also. But fortunately for
the Author, there are tens of thousands who
hunt ; and numbers of these are widely different
from the real hunting man. The two are about
on a par with the man w^ho sails on the sea and
the sailor.

If all men who hunt were really hunting men,
not a line of advice on the subject of riding to
hounds should ever have been penned by me. I
Avrite for some who hunt, and any who intend to
hunt; and so far much practice and experience
may, I trust, give me some pretence to offer
advice.

The book in no way pretends to make any one
acquainted with the mode of hunting hounds, or
of becomino- conversant with the intricacies of the
chace ; it does not even pretend to make a man a
sportsman. Neither theory nor precept could do
this, however good might be the former, or how-
ever ably advanced might be the latter. Practice
and observation must be called in to achieve this.
But as to becoming a sportsman, a man must be
able to ride with hounds ; if a book affords such in-
structions to the tyro as will enable him to do this
with safety to himself and horse, it has some claim
to utility ; and that utility will be further in-
creased if, in teaching him how to promote his
ow^n sport, it also tells him how and where to

PKEFACE. Vll

avoid marring that of others ; for, though " I hope
I don't intrude" could always produce a laugh
for Liston, if it was quoted on maiming a favour-
ite hound, or heading a fox just breaking cover,
the offender would be told he did intrude most abo-
minably ; and " Tally ho, back !" from the hunts-
man would probably be followed by anathemas
both loud and deep.

Those who have seen what horses have done and
will do with such weights as Messrs. Gurney,
Edge, or Colonel Wyndham, and have also seen
the best dead beat under the lightest man, must
be quite aware of the wonderful difference between
riding with judgment and the reverse. It is, in
fact, almost in effect as great as that between
a good and bad horse. Any ordinary difference of
weight is slight when put in comparison with that
between judicious and injudicious riding ; and in
knowing what does or does not distress horses,
this difference mainly depends.

Figuratively speaking, any man with common
judgment and moderate nerve can keep a fair place
with hounds, if he rides the same horses, if those
are good and handy, and the country an average
one as to its general character and fences ; but to
make the most of a moderate horse, manage a
queer-tempered one, or keep an uncertain fencer
straight and on his legs, requires a knowledge of

Vlll TREFACE.

horses, fencing, ground, and hunting, not to be
acquired in a season or two.

I may be unequal to impart such information
as is requisite to make my reader what he may
wish to become in such matters ; but he may at
least derive this advantage from a perusal of this
volume — it will probably enable him to under-
stand and appreciate superior instructions from
any better informed than myself, in the matters
on which I have written.

If, however, such joint efforts fail in teaching
him to acquire the indispensable requisites for
a hunting rider, let him again read this preface,
where I give him such advice as, under such
circumstances, I know to be good ; namely, let
him seek other pursuits and give up hunting, for
he will find no real enjoyment in it, if, instead
of " going like a workman " among those who do,
certain indications make him more than suspect
he is " going like a muff."

In something like illustration of these two
opposite characters, I have sketched tAvo subjects
for engravings, which I trust will explain their
meaning sufficiently without my intruding long
on the reader's time.

The " right sort," I mean to comprehend both
biped and quadruped : the men are a good, fair
specimen of hunting riders, the horses also a fair
description of hunter ; they are taking a rather

PREFACE. IX

spreading, but perfectly fair and safe fence, — one
that no man would hesitate at, if he only carried
a little "jumping powder" about him as an occa-
sional refresher to his nerves, and his horse has
any whalebone qualification in his anatomy.
Whether chance has occasioned them to take the
fence at the same moment, or there is a little
" setting " each other in the case, matters not ; if
they only give their nags a little " stay " on land-
ing, and one little twist to set them going again,
they will be all right. They all look like hardish
bitten ones ; but I should say the dark brown and
his rider " for choice. "

The other plate shows four animals of a different
sort. It might be imagined that a gap made by
all the rough work having been already done,
might have been held as " practicable ; " but the
young gentleman with the stake through his coat-
flap is of course of a different opinion. His black
animal seems to coincide perfectly in such opinion,
and fully carries into practice the judicious maxim
of " look before you leap," if leaping he means
at all. To such saltatlc contemplation the friend
is applying some persuasive argument of rather
a cutting nature, but which the black appears to
endure most philosophically; he has contrived to
get his leg over one bridle rein, — a circumstnnce
that in my ignorance I have always guarded
against, if compelled to " turn over." Now I

X PREFACE.

recommend all my sporting friends to the opposite
practice ; for if they place the rein as the black
has got it, they will find they will derive one of
two great advantages by it. It will either throw
the nag into the ditch on the other side, or if he
escapes that catastrophe, it will give him on land-
ing such a chuck back, that the rider in either
case will have him caus^ht as safe as a hare in a
wire. Such practice might perhaps cause little
delays ; but if it does, it gives you the advantage
of seeing what all the field are doing before you,
— a treat that your first flight man cannot enjoy.

The owner of the bay has doubtless been told
a throat-latch should never be put on tight. In
this I quite agree, though from what occurs to
his nag, it may appear that a throat-latch is in-
tended for a purpose of which he seems to be
unaware.

The black, I doubt not, is held by the impaled
gentleman to be a very fine animal. I should,
however, opine that he must be a leetle slow. The
other is a common-looking animal, I grant ; still
there is a bare possibility he may be better than
he looks ; at all events I back him Moulsey Hurst
to a hen's egsc ao^ainst the black. But take them
all together, horse and foot, there can be little
doubt of their being quite '^ the wrong sort."

H. H.

INTRODUCTIOIS^.

Whenever a book appears where it is left to
surmise whether it is founded on fact, fiction, or
consists partly of both, an irrepressible curiosity
is generally felt by the Reader on this head.

Whether the occurrences or characters men-
tioned in it are imaginary, or taken from life,
would neither make the book better or worse;
but if a few lines can satisfy such curiosity, why
should it not be gratified ?

All the occurrences alluded to, both in "Prac-
tical Horsemanship " and in this book, are taken
from w^hat the Author has seen ; they are facts,
but altered in respect of time and place, so as to
prevent personality. The Characters are from life,
but so disguised as to prevent the individual who
sat for the sketch taken being recognised, unless
where the name is fairly stated. A character or
two may be guessed at, without the Reader being
very wrong in his divination ; where I have left
this possibility, it is where I am indifferent about
the matter, either from not considering any great
delicacy necessary, or from not having said any
thing likely to wound the feelings.

Xll INTRODUCTION.

There are men who have hunted westward of
London who have seen more than one "bruisino;"
M. F. H. There are men in London and its
vicinity who have seen more than one Mr. Jes-
sainy ; though I am thankful to say that I never
saw but one veritable Jessamy with hounds.
I have put the General on a dun horse, merely,
because I never saw him on one of that colour ;
but the General lived and rode. The Clergy-
man mentioned lived (and I hope lives), and well
he did his duty in everything ; and well he did
his duty when, sub rosd, he managed a pack of
fox-hounds. Young Roberts lived, albeit that
was nearer his Christian than surname.

Thus far I satisfy the curiosity of the Reader ;
my friend and guest also lived, and subsequently
often showed the way in Leicestershire. Would
he were now alive!

Having thus introduced my Characters to my
Reader, I hope he will permit me to introduce
the book.

If I should be asked why I have not written a
better book, the answer is very easy — because
I did not know how. If I am asked why I have
written in a somewhat peculiar way — I will give
my reasons for doing so.

Whatever theme an author selects for his
pen, I conceive he should, as far as possible, make

INTRODUCTION. Xlll

his style correspond with his subject. If it be a
light one, a regular didactic style might lead to
the supposition that the author attaches too
much importance to his own work ; if in nar -
rating a simple tale, an author adopts a florid
style, he spoils his work ; he makes that ridiculous
which in simple language would, perhaps, have
been touching and interesting.

Under such impressions I considered the sub-
jects of this book could not be discussed in a too
unaffected or familiar style ; and hence I address
what I say to a Friend instead of the Public.

I had, however, another motive. I considered
that to bring forward cases that, with small un-
important alterations, actually occurred, would
enable the Reader to form his judgment from
them; my own might very probably err: but
the cases as I have stated them are correct.
If, therefore, the Reader should form erroneous
opinions from them, I shall not be liable to the
charge of having misled him.

The friend alluded to, and for whom I once
penned many sheets similar in matter to the
present, was for many years well-known both
to the fashionable and sporting world. He is
gone, but his memory will live long after the
Author of these pages will have been forgotten.

H. H.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

The Chase : its Pleasures. The Fox-hunter and the Farmer.
A Case in Point. Plain Facts. Sportsmen personified.
Masters of Fox-hounds : their distinctive Features.
How to form a Sportsman. Difference of Packs. Il-
lustrative Anecdotes - - - - Page 1

CHAP. II.

Qualifications of a Hunter. Amount of Work that may
be expected of him. Discipline of old and young
Hunters - - - - - -41

CHAP. III.

Harry HIeover's Visit to a Stud. The Model Stud-groom.
Remarks on different Hunters. Racing, Steeple-chasing,
and Hunting. Practical Experiments - - 80

CHAP. IV.

Hints on purchasing Hunters. Hunters best adapted for
Yorkshire; for Leicestershire; for Bedfordshire ; for the
Country round London ; for open Countries. Qualities
of a Hunting-Rider - - - ••123

xvi CONTENTS.

CHAP. V.

A Day with tlie Hounds. Opening the Campaign. All fair
in War. Bone versus Blood. Blood versus Bone. Cha-
racters in the Field. H. H. doing the Honours, Page 136

CHAP. vr.

Confidential Inquiry. Conduct in the Field. Harriers and
Mr.MuUins. Differences betweenFox and Hare-Hunting.
An Interlude - - " " " ^^^

CHAP. VII.

Peculiarities. Hints on Leaping. Armed for either Field.
A Bargain. Going further to fare worse. A pleasant
Acquahitance. Biding the Time. Monsieur Tonson
again. Adieu

'MJM. ;,:;iii::!„ini,ii lJ.i''i,i! i iu«*«i»s^i^r^^'

THE HUNTING-FIELD,

CHAPTER I.

The Chase : its Pleasures. — The Fox-hunter and the Farmer. —
A Case in Point. — Plain Facts. — Sportsmen Personified. —
Masters of Fox-hounds. — Their Distinctive Features.— How-
to form a Sportsman. — Difference of Packs. — Illustrative
Anecdotes.

The Field! Not, reader, the far-famed one of
•Waterloo, nor the more remote in history but
equally memorable one of Bosworth. Mj humble
pen shall not can'y my ideas to either plain,
though my horse has carried me over both. It
was with the enthusiasm of a mere boy I was
first carried across either, but with enthusiasm of
a different sort, and, sooth to say, the one by far
the most agreeable. For, hail, thou field of
Bosworth ! if Mars has claimed thee as the tem-
porary arena of his belligerent sons, fair Diana
has " smoothed the rugged front of war " by
making thee a part and parcel of her sylvan ter-
ritory. Unheroic may be the choice, but in
honesty I must avow I hold it pleasanter to put

B

2 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

my courser at a gate than " to put my life upon
a cast;^^ and if we may judge by the crooked-
backed heroes speech before the memorable morning
dawned^ he would just as soon have seen and hunted
one game fox there as the six Richmonds he talks
about ; and, if I mistake not, about half-past two
on the eighteenth of June, in the year of grace
one thousand eight hundred and fifteen, there were
some on the other plain who would have felt quite
as well pleased with the certainty of sleeping at
Leicester or Melton as in not knowing whether
they should sleep or die where they were.

Our Field is here of far different intent and
purpose ; and, though composed of souls that
" dare do all that ma^ become a man," our vul-
pine war brings no sigh of regret to any one, but
adds health, vigour, high spirits, and good fellow-
ship to all who partake in it, and is, moreover,
one of the few pursuits and pleasures of this life
that " leaves no sting behind."

Hail, then, thou mimic field of war ! and thou,
chaste goddess, hail ! thou whose bright example
has tempted so many of the high and noble
bright-eyed fair ones of our land to add a brighter
tint to beauty by the fresh morning^s breeze.
Interesting as woman ever is, and interesting as
is the fair creature whose attenuated and fragile
form tells the true tale of the sad havoc of a
fashionable life, the interest she excites must ever

be attended by anxious liope and apprehensive
forebodings. But, worse than this, let not the fair
one fancy that the interest she creates carries with
it also admiration. ^Tis true, they say, that " pity
is akin to love." In one sense, perhaps, it is ; but,
in another, let her not fancy that pity is akin
to captivation. No, as a blunt fox-hunter, let me
tell her the homely truth : the man who affirms
how far more lovely is the " drooping lily " than
" the blushing rose," where he has neither design
nor gallantry to induce him to mask his genuine
thoughts, will tell the plain truth in merely
speaking of her as a sickly girl.

If only one such fair being was roused from
the hallucination of her ideas and infatuation of
her pursuits, and was to let her willing steed
carry her where the enlivening cry of hounds
would give a fresh stimulus to thoughts and
feelings blase of the studied concord of instru-
mental music, and where faces beaming with
animation would show the difference between
real and assumed gaiety, there would she catch
the pleasing infection, and bracing air and health-
ful exercise would soon restore the buoyancy of
spirits and elasticity of step, the natural attributes
of youth and health. One, aye only one, such
achievement among the many would be enough
to immortalise the hunting-field for ever.

On however precarious a footing an autlior

B 2

4 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

may stand, and most precarious that footing is
if he selects hmiting as the subject of his pen,
fortunately for that subject, it has a far firmer
hold of public estimation than he who chronicles
its joys and incidents; and whatever is written
on it is sure to challenge the attention of thou-
sands, and, if at all ably handled, will be favoured
by the commendation of some. To those I can
only say,

" Blame where you must, be lenient where you can,
And be the Critic the good-natured man."

Among the few who decry hunting and its
votaries, we rarely, if ever, find the noble, the
high-minded, or the well-educated. The town-
bred and half-bred miss, living with her parents
in a snuggery, at thirty-five pounds a year rent,
in Lambeth, Holloway, or Paddington, where
lawyers' clerks, counter gentlemen from linen-
drapers, lacemen, and others are regaled with tea
and muffins, brought in by a slip of thirteen,
denominated, jt?«r excellence, our servant, may hold
a lady knowing anything of a horse as contra-
feminine, forgetting that ignorance in this way
arises from her parents and parents' ancestors
never having been in a position in life to have
any. The young lady forgets, or rather over-
looks, that, from similar causes, she is a no better
judge of pictures, bronzes, marqueterie, or exotics

DE GUSTIBUS, ETC. 5

than slie is of horses^ whereas the high-born
woman is equally a judge of all from possessing,
and having possessed, them.

Probabl}^, the same young lady^s papa is so far
honoured as occasionally to entertain the master
of a shop, who begs to know '^if there is any
other article he can have the pleasure of showing
liis customer this morning,^^ and bores one by
producing some ^^ entirely new '^ sort of bobbinet
or other bobbery that is not wanted. In such a
case, while her heart beats high, and new hopes
and wishes find bii^th in her bosom, she rails
against field-sports and fox-hunters ; first, from
knowing nothing of either, and, secondly, from
well-knowing the august object of her proud and
towering aspirations never took a leap in his life,
unless over his own counter. How much more
flattering a position she considers the fascinating
Mr. Gauzecollar holds while a piece of white
ribbon from his own shop at his breast proclaims
him steward for the night at the ^^ Casino de
Venise,^^ or some such place, than the noble-
man at a fixture, with his fox-hounds. While
she sees ]\Ir. Gauzecollar figuring away, over-
doing and ill-doing all the steps taught him by
Mr. Hopper in Silver Street, Golden Square,
and, by his officious underbred attempts at gal-
lantry, making havoc in the hearts of scores of
little straw-chippers and sundry ladies of rather

B 3

6 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

equivocal cliaracter, she infers tlie noble sports-
man is snoring in his chair; little suspecting
that he whose straight going with his hounds at
midday challenged the admiration of the fields is
at midnight by the fascination of his manners
challenging the smiles of the high and fairest
daughters of aristocracy. The fair aspirant for
Mr. Gauzecollar's notice "never could abide a
dog^^ till he presented her with some snub-nosed
cur that she leads about as a King Charles. Slie
screams if a horse comes near her ; and when the
daring Gauzecollar once hired one, and rode
three miles out of his way to show himself thus
mounted, the pretty blushes that accompanied
her overcoming her timidity to reach the digit of
the preux cavalier, told the tale of what love
will dare for those beloved. " Hov^ beautiful
he looks a ^orseback ! " sighed the fair one as the
receding form of the gallant youth diminished in
the distance, wending its way back to Cheapside.

But among those many degrees above the
grades of the inhabitant of the suburban snuggery
and the renowned Gauzecollar, we sometimes
hear " I am not very fond of seeing ladies on
horseback,'^ from a London miss who is somewhat
in the state of the fox and grapes of old; and
" I should not like to see a wife of mine ride ''
is a sentiment sometimes mooted by gentlemen
whose prospects need give them little alarm

as to tlieir veto being called in question as to
tlieir ladies' equestrian performances. Happy
souls ! whose wishes and means jog on so har-
moniously together. Would to Heaven I could
bring myself to dislike four good steppers in hand
and half-a-dozen good hunters in the stable ; but
Philosophy uses me most scurvily in this par-
ticular^ and will not bring a particle of its influ-
ence in my favour. Well, if latterly my debts
to Providence and Philosophy have not been
heavy, I am under the less obligation to them.
There is some comfort in that, and to feel that
comfort is about the extent of my obligation.
And as to friends, light as the gossamer floats my
conscience respecting most of them.

But, though hunting and sporting pursuits, like
everything else in this warring world, have some
enemies, there are two great causes why those
enemies are not general. Such pursuits have,
from some incentive or other, been, from time out
of mind, the pursuits of numbers of all nations
of the globe ; hence arrogant must be those who
would attempt to deny as WTong, ridiculous, or
blamable, that w^hich has ever had as its sup-
porters many of the best, the wisest, and highest
born of all countries. And again, as the great
and fashionable uphold, patronise, and partake in
such pursuits, those who are high enough to aim
at being thought above the herd dare not con-

B 4

8 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

demn that wliicli those they emulate choose to
patronise.

Hunting possesses one advantage and recom-
mendation which distinguishes it from all other
amusements, — it injures no one, and benefits
thousands. Cavillers may say, Does it not injure
the farmer whose fences are broken, and land
ridden over? I answer, unquestionably, No: it
would injure him if he had no equivalent given
him ; but he has. If he is put to expense or loss
by a hunting-field, unless he is known to be a
surly brute, that loss is always made up to him ;
and, indeed, in a general way, he gets more than
compensated. " Ware Wheat,^^ " Ware Turnips,^^
or " Ware Clover,^' is constantly heard if any one
is seen riding more than could be avoided over
either. Doubtless, enemies to field sports, or those
who know nothing of agricultural pursuits or
produce beyond what an interested farmer may
tell, will sympathise with him, if he says he had
a fine field of wheat ridden over and spoiled : in
such a case, if he got no remuneration, and if the
wheat WAS spoiled, their sympathy would be well
placed; but that such must be the case because
it is ridden over, is not a more certain sequitur
than the being kicked off a horse is the conse-
quence of getting on one. If a root of wheat is
trodden further into the ground than it originally
was, the hoof of the horse commits a very rude

A CASE IN POINT.

9

assault, but by no means certain murder. On
some land the root would derive benefit from tlie
pressure ; and if, instead of this, it is torn up, it
brings with it sufficient encompassing earth to
carry on its growth in a new situation, and wheat,
like geraniums, will stand a good deal of cutting
and transplanting, and then spring up, like the
heads of the Hydra, vigorous as ever.

I can fancy I hear Farmer Winnowwheat ex-
claim on hearing what I have stated, "What
can a chap that writes books know about wheat?"
]\Iy reply to such an observation from the worthy
farmer would be,— I do not pretend to a great
amount of knowledge, but why I may know
something of wheat being ridden over is this : I
have had five hundred acres of land on my hands,
and those situated within a quarter of a mile of
a fox-hound kennel ; so my fields came in for a
full share, three or four fixtures being in my im-
mediate vicinity. I therefore may Imow some-
thing about this subject ; in fact, men of real lite-
rary talent would perhaps, despite the farmer,
hold that I know more of riding across wheat,
than of writing across a sheet of. foolscap. What-
ever may be the case, I can only say I never had
a field of wheat spoiled, or, as I could detect,
materially injured, by being ridden over.

But I can bring a case in point. I had a small
nook on my farm of about an acre; this was wheat.

10 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

and a regular " cul-de-sac/^ Out of a large fields
one day^ some scores of horsemen got into tliis
trap; but as the fence out was not practicable^
tbey had to return to the gate : thus the field
came in for no ordinary treading, and certainly
presented a rather disarranged appearance. I
sent a roller into it next day, and never saw or
had a finer crop off the same quantity of land.
I must, however, allow, that on a more stiff
clayey and wet soil damage would have been done;
but if it had, a proper application to the master
of the hounds would have set all right, had I been
disposed to make one.

Now turnips really do suffer when ridden over,
for when a shoe bruises one, the chances are
that it decays and rots away. But turnips are
seldom ridden over if it can be avoided, for the
damage they incur is known to all regular fre-
quenters of a hunt; and one who is not so is soon
reminded of, or taught this fact, if he is seen
transgressing. And again, a field of full-grown
turnips is not a kind of galloping ground any
man would select if he could avoid it.

Clover lays suffer - much if ridden over ; but if
crossed in the direction of the lands the furrow
is always selected, and if transversely, there is
mostly a headland that leads to a gate : this is
also generally the soundest part, and is, in most
cases, the part ridden over. In short, the damage

PLAIN FACTS. H

a Field does is always mucli exaggerated wlieii
complained of at all.

A farmer may, on an average, get one gate
broken in a season; if lie does, the carpenter or
blacksmith makes it as good as ever for a couple
of shillings, and a day^s Avork at eighteen pence
to a hedger, repairs many fences, of which the
materials probably cost nothing.

If the farmer is rich, and a sportsman, these
trifles neither hurt his pocket nor mind; if poor,
he is sure to be remunerated.

We wDl now look to the creditor side of the
accoimt. In the extent of country over which a
pack of fox-hounds has its fixtures, we may fairly
infer that a couple of hundred men keep hunters.
Not to exceed the mark, we will average these
at three horses each : some keeping six or more,
others one. This gives us 600 horses, consuming,
at the least, 1,200 bushels of corn weekly, some-
thing about 9,000 quarters of corn yearly, and
say,"! thousand tons of hay, — a pretty good lift
to the produce of the neighbourhood, — a kind
of free trade among neighbours that carries no
dissension with its eflPects. If we, therefore, take
into consideration the numbers of packs of fox-
hounds kept in Great Britain, it will be seen that
the vent through them of farmers' produce is
enormous, and the number of persons employed
equally great in its way.

13

THE HUNTING-FIELD.

It is all very well in a pastoral poem to use a
kind of clap-trap for tlie applause of a certain
grade, to carp at the noble as requiring

" Space for his lake, his park's extended bounds,
Space for his horses, equipage, and hounds."

Our poet quite overlooked the number of persons
employed, and the money circulated by the pur-
suits requiring the space he grudges the noble
possessor.

What he says of their usurping the space that
"many poor supplied/' is sheer nonsense; such
Utopian ideas alone would have been sufficient to
prove him what he was, a very pretty poet and a
very weak man.

" A time there was, ere England's griefs began,
When every rood of ground maintain'd its man."

A very catching couplet to those who can
believe such a state of things practicable or pos-
sible. Poets certainly have a licence, and the
poet in question has used it most freely, for when
England's griefs began is rather an indefinite period
to hit upon, and when every rood of ground main-
tained its man is a state of things that never did
exist, will exist, or could exist.

As one of these domains, where there is space
for all those appurtenances to a nobleman that
are so reproachfully alluded to by the poet, and

so THINGS A11E_, AND SO THEY MUST BE. 13

^vliere a pack of fox-liounds has been long kept
on a princely scale by the best of sportsmen, ^ye
will suppose the estates of the Duke of Cleveland
to be subdivided till every rood of ground, for the
time being, had its man. Could any one be
absurd enough to suppose it would continue thus ?
It would not over one harvest ; some, from idleness,
bad management, or bad habits, would find they
could not hold their own ; a more prudent or better
managing neighbour takes it, and adds it to his
own, and probably the late owner of the added
rood assists the new possessor in its culture : here
in the first, not only generation, but season,
one becomes doubly possessed, and the other a
labourer ; as possessions and wealth accumulate,
so do the means of acquiring increased wealth.
The careful man adds rood by rood to his pro-
perty, till he possesses ten roods ; nine of his neigh-
bours become labourers ; and of those who still
retain their rood, he, as relates to them, becomes a
large landed proprietor, they only a step above
the labourer : he is to them what the wealthy
farmer, holding a thousand acres, and riding hunt-
ing, is to the man tilling a hundred and holding his
own plough : and thus, as now, in the course of
time would Ptaby Castle again own one master.

If every individual living had the same talent,
the same industry, habits, and disposition, if we
gave each similar possessions and means, each

14 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

might, for a considerable time, retain an equal
position in society ; but even under sucb circum-
stances, ill luck-or ill-liealtli would shortly dis-
possess one, while it enriched another : and it is
quite proper it should be so ; for, supposing Great
Britain could give an acre of land to each inhabi-
tant, instead of a rich and enlightened nation, we
should be a set of Boors, without sense enough to
carry on the common cause of all. It is not as
Goldsmith describes, even among savage tribes,
for with them the best hunter gets the most skins,
and the best warrior the most sway.

The poor, feeling the shoe that pinches them,
are induced to envy and decry the rich and great ;
they do this from looking at the picture in a wrong
light. They can scarcely be expected to believe
the fact, that virtually it is by the rich and great
that the poorer live ; in fact, without the great the
little could not live, for do away with the great,
the poor would become slaves here, or pretty
much the same thing, to other nations : if, there-
fore, every noble and man of wealth could be
induced to do what equalisers would wish, namely,
distribute his patrimony till he gave a thousand
families a hundred a year, and left himself with
the same income, so far from benefiting man-
kind, he would be taking a most effectual step
towards striking at the root of common welfare.

Avaunt ! then, ye who only rail at the great and

SPORTSMEN PERSONIFIED. 15

noble because their position is one for wliicb you
were not designed and are not fitted. Avaunt !
ye soulless beings, who decry the glories of the
Chase because you have not hearts or means to
enjoy it. While Old England stands pre-eminent
among nations, so will its aristocracy stand among
men; and while this lasts, so will the glorious
Chase stand pre-eminent among our national sports
and pastimes.

I am quite willing to admit that the man whose
avocation carries him no further than from Loth-
bury or Fenchurch to Clapham Common, and
whose appurtenances of his pursuits are comprised
in pen, ink, paper, wax, wafer, seal and sand, may
have in him the germ of a heroes courage and
enthusiasm; but he who has stood conspicuous
in bold relievo amongst his comrades in the
burst of blaze in a dozen sieges, leaves no doubt
of the materials he is made of ; and the man who,
cap in hand, rattles along his pack of fox -hounds
at a racing pace, shows at once the soul that is
in him ; and what he does will alu^ays be done
" en prince,''' whether it be bearding a tyrant
potentate and defying his threatened vengeance,
or soothing the wretched applicant and relieving
his gaunt necessities.

A sportsman is, perhaps, among the generality
of men, a somewhat indefinite term. Each man
who follows any sort of sport calls himself a

16 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

sportsman : in his way, lie certainly is so. The
walking gentleman on the stage is an actor, but
not quite John Kemble or Talma.

Angling is a sport ; and the illiberal cynic who
described it as a rod with a worm at one ex-
tremity and a fool at the other, exemplified his
own definition ; for the best, the wisest, and most
gifted have been anglers. There is not, in a
general way, certainly, much excitement in the
pursuit, and I should be apt to consider the man
who preferred it to robuster sports to be one with
little enthusiasm in his composition, probably a
very amiable and estimable man ; but my fox-
hunting predilections would never allow me to
consider such a man a sportsman, unless he was
one who angled when, from some cause or other,
he could not hunt.

Shooting is unquestionably sporting ; and if a
man shot because or when he could not hunt, I
should par excellence call him a sportsman j but if
by choice he went pottering about with a brace
of pointers when he could enjoy the sight of five-
and-tv/enty couples of fox-hounds finding, and in
chase, I must say I should hold him somewhat
slow as a sportsman ; in fact, courtesy alone would
induce me to call him one. " The squire '^ shot,
it is true, and so do hundreds of our first-flight
men as fox-hnnters ; and whether it was a pigeon
or a partridge, Osbaldiston shot enthusiastically ;

A KARA AYIS. 17

but if he practised till, when he cried " pull " to
the trapman, every bystander would say, " dead
for a ducat ; ^^ or till the flashing zig-zag flight of
the snipe never caused him a moment's hurry, or
the " wlmr " of the pheasant never surprised him,
let it be remembered that he also surprised the
welkin with his " whoo-whoop " when the worried
fox was held by the whipper-in over the impatient
pack. That " whoo-whoop ^' was alone worth a
day^s journey to hear, and to see him also at the
find and in the chase was Avorth a pilgrimage to
Mecca. Such men should never die; but as
they do, they have at least the consolation of
knowing their memory lives for ever in the re-
collections of sportsmen, while their regrets are
as undying as those recollections. The mere
shooter will of course be regretted by his friends
as a man, if he deserved such regrets ; but when
he dies, it is merely, as regards the sporting world,
one good shot the less ; and we may say, and we
may think, as was said of the fallen knight in
Chevy Chase, there are ^Mvithin the realm five
hundred good as he." Shooting is comparatively
a solitary and selfish amusement, and also com-
paratively does no good to any one ; so the loss of
a shooter concerns him only as an individual ; and
his loss will be regretted or not in accordance with
the estimation his general character placed him in
c

18 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

among his friends and acquaintance. But^ inde-
pendent of respective general worth as individuals
of high position, the loss of such men as the
Dukes of Beaufort or Cleveland creates a hiatus
in the sporting world, a chasm in the kingdom,
not readily to be filled up. The loss of their
retinue and princely expenditure would he felt
by hundreds, and, to quote the words (but reverse
their meaning) of the poet I have before cited,
would stop the means "that many poor sup-
plied ; " while their high bearing but courtesy
in the held would ever live in the memory of all
who have witnessed it. Enthusiastic as I am in
my love of fox-hunting, candour obliges me to
confess, I have among men as masters of fox-
hounds, but of less high standing in society, seen
acts and heard expressions used in the field, the
coarseness of which all but induced a wish that
the pack might cease to exist in order to get rid
of their master.

There are three distinct characters as masters
of fox-hounds, and of course an intermediate man
among the three. There is the judicious but
somewhat timid rider ; the bold, dashing, scien-
tific, and straight-going rider; and also the bruising
rider ; each quite fitted for a master of hounds.
I need scarcely say that among the three, "in
medio tutissimus ibis,^^ that is, of the three, the
middle one quoted approaches most the beau-ideal

COMMANDERS IN THE FIELD. 19

of a master of fox -hounds, tliat is, supposing eacli
to be in prime of life, liealtli, and vigom\

But as it is neither necessary, desirable, nor
advisable for a general commanding troops in a
battle to meet bis man sword-arm to sword-arm,
so it is in no way necessary for a master of
bounds to be a bold rider, unless be bunts tbem
bimself, in wbicb case, giving bim credit for good
sense, of course he would be ; where be is not so,
although be may be quite aware that in a clipping
run over a stiff country the chances are against
him, still, so far from wishing to prevent the
sport of others, if he is thrown out, he hears the
whole account from bis huntsman, and feels a
good-natured pride and pleasure in learning his
pack behaved well, and bis friends were gratified.
We are not, however, to suppose, because the
master of a pack may not be a very bold rider,
that such a case as I have described is one of
very frequent occurrence. Masters of bounds
are mostly thorough sportsmen, and where for-
ward riding does not carry them through, their
perfect knowledge of their country, their hounds,
and the habits of their game, together with their
general knowledge of hunting, does ; and though
the master may not have been seen for ten con-
secutive minutes going in the front rank, it will
probably be found that he has been all along
during the run near enough to have seen what

c 2

20 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

was going on^ and probably could give by far a
better account of the chase than any other person
in the field. As a nobleman or man of fortune,
he rides to please himself, leaving younger,
vainer, or less sensible men to ride to please
others. Something of the same sort will be seen
in his dress, and even in the appointments of his
own or his men^s horses. The Tyro fears to have
anything about himself or his people that is not
sanctioned by general custom and use. The man
of high standing and known judgment orders all
about him in such manner or form as his good
sense tells him is most convenient or effective.
His dress is sure to be that of a sportsman and
a gentleman ; but he ties himself to no particular
or general class of either as objects of imitation.
If he thinks a saddle, for instance, of a make
somewhat deviating from those in general use, to
be more safe or easy for himself, his men, or
horses, he uses such ; and though he may not
quote the doggrel rhyme,

" Sir, I'm a gentleman, do ye think it fit,
I should to vulgar rule submit ? "

he feels he is a man of consequence, and one of
sense, and as such does that which is sensible,
without studying the opinion of the mere mul-
titude.

Another sort of master of hounds is the dashing

METEORS. 21

straight rider, probably, a yoimger man. He
scorns to " crane ^^ at anything, and delights in
the uncertainty between getting a cold bath and
skimming over eighteen feet of water. He must
have a flying country, hounds fast as meteors, and
huntsmen and whips fast as his hounds. He, as
a sportsman, wishes to see his hounds work hand-
somely, but ever wishes their work to be racing
with " heads up and sterns down ; '^ wdth only
time to occasionally throw a tongue. He loves
this not from any little or ill-natured feeling
towards those not equally mounted or equally
gifted, but in a manly waj^ to throw down the
gauntlet to those who are. He hunts for fame,
rides for fame ; so let it be. Fame is his vitality ;
probably his enthusiastic pursuit of it will be
sobered by time ; but if it be, the man who has
once sought it in all pursuits '' that may become
a man,^^ will very rarely indeed be found to do
aught that would not. Such are the men Avho
ought to enjoy, for they have the zest to enjoy,
" the good the gods provide them." Long may
they enjoy it !

Such a master of hounds will be certain to have
everything in accordance with prevailing taste.
His dress of the true Melton cut ; his coat, by the
most approved artist, is faultless ; his hair and
whiskers just as arranged by his French or Swiss
valet ; his boots and breeches patterns in their
c 3

90

THE HUNTING-FIELD.

"VYuy ; his hunter^ perfect in shape^ make^ and
condition^ is fit to run on a flat for a man^s life :
and while the first noble master I have specified
arrives at the fixture in his post- carriage, stan-
hope, or on a safe good hack, our younger one
comes careering across the country on a three
hundred guinea hunter to whom he gives this
breathing as a preparation for his next hunting
day ; or if the distance is too far for this, we see
him in his mail shooting carriage, or his four-
in-hand, with horses, in the purchase of any of
which, the change out of a hundred and fifty
would not pay two hours of the daily expendi-
ture of his establishment.

In the bearing of the two different masters
towards the field, a considerable difference may
be remarked by any observer. The more experi-
enced master and older inhabitant of the country,
notices ouly such men as rank high in point of
conduct and character ; and if any steeple-chase
rider, whose puppyism and impertience were only
equalled by his ignorance and ill-temper, should
happen to be out, he Avould be no more noticed
by the master as a desirable addition to the field
than would any stray hound who might choose to
join the pack, so long as he was unobserved by
the whip. Our younger M. F. H., acting more
in accordance with the times, would probably
hold such a man riding steeple-chases as a pass-

TOO MUCH FAMILIARITY, ETC. ETC. 23

port to tlie notice of a nobleman, and would very
probably accost him as Jem or John, the doing
of which would arise from w^ant of reflection, and
consequent want of suitable conception and esti-
mation of men and things. We will of course
give the young noble credit for a courteous and
perfectly gentlemanly demeanour in the field;
for unless quite " apostate to his faith,^' his edu-
cation and habits would ensure his being so;
but it is quite possible that the same little mis-
taken ideas of propriety might induce a certain
manner and certain expressions very distantly
(let us hope) approaching to what might be held
as bearing some affinity to " Slang,'' the very
antithesis of such noblemen as I have mentioned
■ by name as owning fox-hounds.

The appearance and manners of the servants
of the more fashionable and younger M. F. H.
will most likely differ from those of the other
noble in minor points : they w ill of course know
their business perfectly, though it is possible that
in their endeavours to show a clipping run and
fast thing, they may occasionally lose a fox ;
their appearance probably will have a spice of
something of London, Newmarket, and steeple-
chasing in it, at' all events, difi'erent from that
of the men of the other pack, who, if seen at
Tattersairs, would be at once set down as a
huntsman and his whips, even if their persons
C 4

24 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

"vvere unknown. Of course the manners of tlie
men of both packs would be civil to gentlemen ;
but those of the men of the younger M. F. H.
would want that perfectly respectful bearing always
found in servants of really well- organised 4'amilies.

Where a huntsman and his whips are aware
that the master of the pack knows as much, or
perhaps more of hunting than they do, it pro-
duces a deferential attention to his orders that a
less experienced sportsman could not command.
They are taught that they are the master^ s ser-
vayits ; the others hold themselves as artists, and
consider the hunting the hounds as resting with
themselves, and this produces a certain self-es-
timation, which is shown in their manner as well
as harboured in their minds.

If I wished to make a man a thorough coach-
man, I should not be content with his being able
to drive four thoroughly broke horses who would
go of themselves, but after he had driven such I
would give him a dose of four heavy-mouthed
lazy ones, as also a team or two of some blind
and some groggy queer-disposed " Bokickers,"
all and each with a different temper, and pro-
bably vice. When he can get the first along in fair
time, and keep the others on their legs and in
their places, I should call him a coachman : he
will then appreciate the pleasure of driving his
own team, and know what to do in emergency.

NECESSARY THOUGH ROUGH PRACTICE. ^O

So to make a man a sportsman : if his re-
splendent star boded liis finding himself in that
" second heaven " namely, in the field, surrounded
hy his own pack of fox hounds, I would not let
him perform his novitiate in a fine scenting,
flying grass-country, where he would think more
of his riding than his hounds. No; send him
into a good rough one, well interspersed Avith
woodland, where foxes require a good deal of
badgering and driving to make, or rather force
them to break : this wdll teach him patience, give
him a knowledge of his hounds, and an ear to tell
him what they are at when his eye cannot inform
him. He will here learn what hunting is, that is,
hunting in difficulties, and not merely to be only
able to do what any man w^ho is not afraid can
do, namely, follow a flying pack that are always
in his sight with very frequently their fox in
sight also. It matters not to any one wdiether a
man who hunts with others^ hounds be a sports-
man or not, provided he be sufficiently so as in a
general w^ay to hold his tongue and not interfere
with the hounds, or get in their way ; but a
M. F. H. being a thorough sportsman just makes
the difference of hounds affording good sport to a
whole country or the reverse.

When a man has served a proper apprenticeship
to hunting in different countries, so as to be able,
if he wished, to hunt a pack of fox-hounds in

26 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

any, may he have as good a one as heart can wish,
as fine a country as England can produce, plenty
of foxes, plenty of means, and plenty of health to
enjoy all, and as Pat says, " May he live for ever,
and after too ! "

Leaving aside the difference that would in all
probability be found in two packs under the
control of two such masters, that difference
arising from the different taste, habits, and
experience of each respectively, there will be
perceived a wider* difference still between the two
in hunting a different description of country ; and
this difference would not only be unavoidable, but
quite proper in character.

The style, strength, and breed of horses and
hounds must differ in a light flying country, and
a deep-holding and rough one; the men^s dress
even must be stronger in the latter, or they would
have their boots torn off their legs, and their
clothes from their backs : in fact, in such a country
I once saw a whip emerge from a thick cover
minus a saddle-flap. In very light breast-high
countries, a huntsman and his whips should be
light, and must, to live with their hounds, possess
something of the attributes of the jockey and
steeple-chase rider as to knowledge of pace and
making the most of their horses; in more diffi-
cult countries the greater qualification is making
the most of their hounds^ and here more ex-

MATTERS OF TASTE. 27

perienced men are desirable. A very sliglit touch
of tlie dandy may not militate against a hunts-
man^ s qualifications, where he rides thorough-
breds and hunts hounds as delicate in their coats
and fine as racing greyhounds ; but where men
and hounds have to actually force themselves
through strong thorny covers, men, horses, and
hounds must be used that will stand the en-
counter of such rough usage as all must meet
with ; and, advocate as I am for blood in all
things, I know quite well that here a tolerably
tough hide is really a desideratum in a huntsman
as well as in horses and hounds. Under most cir-
cumstances we can pop a thin-skinned nag through
a Bullfinch ; the pace and his game induce him to
make the momentary bolt through ; but many of
them would no more thrust themselves patiently
through a strong cover than they would through
a fire. Such countries w ere never to my taste,
chiefly because the description of horse calculated
for them was not to my taste either ; and further
than this, I would rather get a purler over a fair
fence than be flayed alive gradatim by ragged
ones, — a thing I hold next in abhorrence to the
being kicked to death by black beetles.

There is, however another difference to be
found in packs, and this originating from the
difference of two masters. But here, unlike the
two cases before alluded to, the difference arises

28 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

from the different positions in life, and conse-
quently, different animus that pervades the two
individuals. To make this clear, I will select
two packs illustrative of this difference ; and as
most of those who hunted with the two packs in
question (unless they were at the time, like my-
self, in boyhood) have ceased to breathe, I can
offend no one by my remarks.

I will specify the two packs of fox-hounds that
years back hunted Hertfordshire; the one the
Essex, the other the Buckinghamshire side of
the county ; the latter were nominally the Mar-
quis of Salisbury's. I say nominally, for though
they were his property, they were under the con-
trol of the Marchioness ; for when I knew them
their lord was too infirm to hunt. The Mar-
chioness was the perfection of a hunting horse-
woman ; rode as straight and boldly as I hold any
gentlewoman should ride, while a servant, whose
respectful demeanour showed him the servant of a
nobleman, attended or piloted her, as the case might
be. Many women I have known since, and know
now, could beat her across a country, perfect horse-
woman as she was : but they wanted and want
that tact and manner that, in all cases, the other
showed. In her, while we admired the horse-
woman, nothing was done that could for a moment
compromise the Marchioness, the wife of the noble
owner of the pack. The number of the field

SCENES GONE BY. 29

was usually comparatively small^ say, forty or
fifty ; but they were gentlemen, — gentlemen of
the county, and many of them frequent visitors
at Hatfield House ; few but those who occa-
sionally at least enjoyed this privilege, hunted
with these hounds; in fact, I recollect but two
who regularly did so, the one a then eminent
chemist on Ludgate Hill, the other the Mr.
Dickenson of Gowland lotion celebrity ; a capital
sportsman, and respected, I believe, by all who
knew him. A few farmers were occasionally out,
and when they were, the condescension with
which they were acknowledged by the Mar-
chioness, showed they were men to be respected ;
and if a horse-dealer or two sometimes showed a
clever hunter there, their dress and manner showed
they were not ashamed of their trade, so no one
was ashamed of them; the huntsman and his
whips were of that order of men who, by their
respectful manners to the gentlemen of the hunt,
proved they were worthy of respect in return.
Such was the Hatfield hunt : theii' country could
not be called altogether a good one, that is, not
one usually affording clipping runs, still it was
one that called forth all the beauties of huntino- in
the sagacity and steadiness of hounds, and know-
ledge of his business in the huntsman. It was
not a first-flight rider^s country, but in all its
attributes perfectly a gentleman^s, and one where

30 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

a real lover of hunting would be highly pleased
and gratified.

The pack on the Essex side had for their
M. F. H. a worthy citizen, a good sportsman, and
doubtless a worthy man. They had certainly a
better country than had their more aristocratic
rivals, and I believe the whole establishment was
well and liberally managed ; JDut a glance at the
collective meet at one of their fixtures showed at
once a difference of men and manners : their fields
were usually far more numerous than those of the
Hatfield pack. Of course among them were some
private gentlemen ; but, unless it might be a mili-
tary man quartered within reach, it was only some
fortuitous chance that brought a man of fashion
there.

I in no shape mean to infer that vulgarity
was a prominent feature in the appearance or
demeanour of the field, but there certainly was a
want of that tone, and ton, that so immediately
characterised the gentlemen of the other hunt.
The uniform of the Hatfield was light blue, which
produced a kind of exclusiveness not reached by
a mere scarlet coat. I have seen many a horse-
dealer in the latter, and as it is merely a hunting
dress, he may wear it without incurring the charge
of presumption ; and so may any other tradesman.
Perhaps it might evince better taste if they did
not ; but no man presumed to sport the Hatfield

RIDIXG NOT SYXOXYMOUS TO STAYMAKING. 31

colour unless requested to do so by tlie noble
master, or the Marchioness. I could wisli every
hunt had a direct distinguishing livery or uniform
for it : it possesses several advantages. It creates
a respect for the wearer; it shows him to be a
man known and estimated by the hunt, and, like
the uniform of the military man^ is a check on
many acts that might be done when in mufty.
Any stranger who is out, seeing a man in the
coat of the hunt start well and go well, takes
him for his pilot ; and by so doing steers clear of
mischief which he otherwise, from ignorance of
localities, might be led into. Should one of the
hunt get thrown a little astray, if he sees a man
in the uniform going a field or so off, he recognises
him as " one of us,^' and feels he is all right : if,
on the contrary, he merely rides after a plain
red coat, he may be following a stay-maker from
Cheapside, who knows as much of the country as
the other does of stays.

Mais a-projjos (not) de bottes, but coats, 1 will
here mention an anecdote that affords me much
pleasure in narrating, as it shows an instance of
feeling and refinement in a servant that should
make us keep in mind that there sometimes is
among this class of persons, when treated with
proper consideration, the germ of sentiment worthy
a higher order: —

The imiform of the Hatfield hunt was, as

32 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

already stated, light blue with white buttons.
Finding them apt to get worn out before the coat,
my father had a set of silver ones made. When
one of these coats had become unfit for his wear
he gave it to a servant, forgetting the buttons
were silver : the man sold it to a Jew, supposing
the buttons to be ordinary ones. Moses soon
found this out, cut them off, and brought them
back for sale, which of course he had a right to
do, having purchased the lot fairly as it was. The
man acquainted his master of the circumstance,
expecting he would take the buttons at the price
they were offered ; but my father, with his usual
right feeling, said, " As I gave you the coat as it
was, I have no more right to the buttons than you
have ; if you can make a good bargain with the
Jew, put it in your own pocket." The buttons
being worth no more than their weight in silver,
the man bought them and put them on a private
coat of his own. The poor fellow shortly after-
w^ards died in our house, left a little money and
his clothes to a relation; but on his death-bed
begged of my father, " if he thought his services
had been faithful enough to merit such a distinc-
tion, that he would wear these buttons on his
next hunting coat." I need scarcely say he did
so, and wore them on every hunting coat he used
afterwards, and he wore one at seventy-six years
of age.

TIMES ARE ALTERED. 33

The description of persons that form the ma-
jority of a field at its fixture, for the case is
often quite different after a trying burst, depends
greatly on the locality of the hunt. When the
late Lord Darlington hunted the Raby country,
of course such a thing as a man residing in
London was never seen out; but when Her
Majesty^s hounds turn out at the Magpies, Stoke
Common, or ^Maidenhead Thicket, Londoners
form no inconsiderable portion of the field. For-
tunately for Davis, there is as yet no rail within
some miles of his residence at the Kennel, other-
wise so capital a companion, horseman, and hunts-
man, liked and respected as he is by all who
know him, would be fairly eaten out of house and
home by voracious friends. As it is, he owes no
kindness to railroads ; but make one to Ascot
Heath, and if he did not anathematise the projector
of it, he would be more than human. When as a
boy and youth I had eight seasons with these
hounds, I invariably found that, if they turned
out at Tower Hill, or near Easthamstead Park,
the field consisted of thirty or forty gentlemen
and a farmer or two; if the Magpies was the
fixtm-e, even in those days such a motley group
assembled there as called for the exertions and
watchfulness of the yeomen Prickers, as much to
save the hounds in the beginning of the chase as
the deer at the end of it.

34 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

Many persons profess to like a good play : years
past there were thousands of such persons^ but
there are only comparatively a few that do so at
the present day. Now if we hear a person say
he^ or she, likes to go to the theatre with a party,
depend upon it they care nothing for the play.
Give me one companion, the centre of the house,
and the pit, a few rows from the orchestra.

So a field of forty, or even a few more good
sportsmen, is pleasant. This is enough to enliven
the scene, and to make a man on the qui vive for
his own and his horse's credit sake ; but from a
promiscuous crowd, Gods of the Chase deliver us !

It is quite true we see at some of the fixtures
monster fields in Leicestershire, and among them
an infinite variety of character; but it is only
the variety existing among gentlemen and sports-
men. Wild riding, T grant, is to be seen there
in the fullest sense of the word, and plenty of
riders who, rather than make one baulk at all
certain, would render the breaking a neck or two
probable. " Excuse me, my dear fellow,^^ or " I
beg your pardon, Sir,*^ would to some seem small
amends for being sent a regular burster horse and
all over a fence, from another riding too closely
on a horse just "taking off";" but the apology
would be admitted, and away sails the more
fortunate of the two, leaving the other to get up
as he and his horse can. Lucky, more than

^^ I BLEED, SIR, BUT AM NOT KILLED/^ 35

lucky, if, while doing this, they do not get a
second remembrance of there being others behind;
in such a case the author of the second shock
would inwardly ejaculate, "Why did not the fool
lie still, and I should have cleared him/^ If,
phoenix-like, rider and horse rise, not from the
ashes but the soil, unhurt, and get again to the
hounds, in meeting either of their more fortunate
rivals, " I trust you were not hurt '' is ample
apology for such trifling occurrences.

If we accidentally tread on a man's stick or
umbrella in the streets, common courtesy demands
our picking it up and handing it to its owner
with an apology; but assisting a man and horse
out of a ditch would be such slow work, that in
any aristocratic country an excuse for not doing
so is held quite unnecessary. "Now let every
one take care of himself," as the ox said when he
began dancing among the frogs, is fully carried
out in fast countries when men begin to ride :
even the hounds know this; and to save himself,
if he unfortunately gets among a crowd of horse-
men in chase, I will back a Leicestershire hound
against any dog living : one accustomed to the
crowded part of London would be a fool to him,
no hare can double, dodge, and avoid a greyhound
at her haunches quicker than will a hound, that
has had a season or two, a horse.

Aristocratic and exclusive as in a general way

D 2

36 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

is the Leicestershire country, even there, when
the fixture was in the Loughborough part of it, a
celebrated M. of H. used to say, '' I shall have
my little Nottingham stocking lot out to-day,"
and certainly a meet there and one at Bilsdon
did show a difference as to exclusiveness ; but let
it be borne in mind that this said "little Not-
tingham lot'' were quite a different sort of
persons to those they supplied with the produce
of Nottingham looms ; the latter, emerging from
Cheapside, Luclgate Hill, Fleet Street, &c., fa-
voured the Surrey, or Jolliffe, or the Derby with
their visits. I cavil not at any class of men if
they are sportsmen, but even in this case I do
most heartily dislike a superabundance of them.
We are told we cannot have too much of a good
thing : I deny this as regards a field.

Such opinions, ideas, and reminiscences as I
have put down in the foregoing pages have arisen
from rather unusually early and long-continued
practice and participation in field sports of most
sorts ; they were in no shape collected under any
idea of their being published. But in this case,
allowing a portion of them may be erroneous, or
supposing the whole to be so, their publication
must be at all events harmless, for the reader can
consult better authority, and in one case reject
what he disapproves, and in the second reject the
whole if it seems advisable that he should do so.

FRESH AS IMPORTED. 37

I am not quite clear but that tlie first suggestion
of publishing the result of my experience arose
from the following recollection.

Hunting with the old Berkley, an old dog-fox
in the Clicketting season was found near Bea-
consfield, and gave us such a straight twister to
the neighbourhood of the good town of Amer-
sham, as left the field '^few and far between."
A stranger was out, spicy in all his appurte-
nances, quite correct, but new. He was mounted
on a really magnificent chesnut horse, in shape,
make, and style of going a hunter all over. He
evidently knew his business, while it shortly
became equally apparent that his master did not.
He was a man of perhaps fortj^, a good-humoured
looking soul, and no W'ant of quaintness in his
expression of countenance, yet perfectly unas-
suming in his carriage and manner. I, like
others, addressed the stranger, and made my in-
troduction by wdiat seldom fails to meet courteous
reception; namely, admiring his horse, who
justly merited my encomiums in all things save
one, his condition. Fine he was in his coat,
fresh on his legs, and in high spirits and vigour,
but the condition spoke of the dealers, not the
hunting stable.

The hounds were scarcely in cover before one
threw his tongue. The cheer of the huntsman
showed the challenge came from one to be

» 3

38 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

trusted; others flew at tlie lialloo and joined
chorus. A. minute after Pug showed close to
me, broke at once, threw up his brush, and went
off at score. Seeing him shortly change his
point, go straight up what little wind there
was, and taking into consideration the time of
year, I felt satisfied he was a stranger, and
made up my mind for a rattler, which he gave us,
and ran to earth in his own country and home ;
he did not run up wind for nothing. Now to
return to the stranger. He certainly did not_, as
Beckford represents some gentleman to have done,
show any indication of attempting to catch the
fox; but the moment the hounds showed they
meant such undertaking, away he went, and right
merrily he went. The hounds, with noses up,
sterns down, and giving themselves no time for
talking, went at such a pace that hurry them on
as he might, the scent was so good, and Pug went
so straight, he could do no harm to them. To do
him justice, fear he had none; at all he went, and
though sometimes nearly over the pommel of his
saddle, at others thrown up till he stood over it
like the Colossus at Rhodes, and at others in-
dulging in a little lateral inclination, with a loose
rein, his blooming chestnut topped all in gallant
style ; and though, as we sometimes do on seeing
a man much inebriated on horseback, I expected
to see the rider grassed, he kept on like a trump.

A FIXTURE. 39

We had run perhaps three miles without a check
enough to take a horse off his stride. " Well/'
thought I^ " neighbour, if in your nag's condition he
lasts much longer, I am no prophet/' In a field
or two further I saw the chestnut make a flounder
on landing over a fence. " Oh ! you're there, are
you, at last," thought I. Our Mazeppa on the
not wild, but now tame, horse gave him a cram,
and sent him along across part of a deep ploughed
field. '^Who ho! for a hundred," thought I,
" before you reach the next fence." I saw the
chestnut stretch his neck out, give a swelling
sigh and sob, his stroke shortened, and he stopped,
regularly planted.

On the next hunting day neighbour was there,
fresh as a four-year old, and looking as good-
humoured as ever. I asked after the chestnut,
and really felt much pleasure on learning he had
shortly recovered, and was none the worse for his
drilling. Neighbour was now on a fine bay, but
just in the same condition. His master expressed
surprise at his chestnut having come so suddenly
to a stand. I perpetrated an execrable pun by
telling him, it was because he brought him too
suddenly to a fixture ; adding, " It does not re-
quire my being a witch, my good Sir, to prognos-
ticate that your bay will serve you just the same
if you ride him the same, he being in the same
condition as your chestnut."

D 4

40 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

This led to my explaining such effects of the
want of condition as I presumed he was unac-
quainted with ; and finding my suspicions correct
as to his nags being in dealer's condition^ I gave
him (on his asking it) my advice^ which was in
words to this effect : —

" You have two remarkably fine horses^ one
of them a very clever one, as I have seen ; but
neither can be fit to go with bounds under six
weeks. Not to lose your huntings buy a couple
of fifty-pound seasoned hack hunters; sell them
when your own are ready. But do not risk
four hundred from inflamed lungs^ or broken
necks or backs^ from exhaustion, which you will
risk, in all probability realise, if you ride your
horses in their present state."

" I wish you would write a book for novices
like me/-' most modestly said neighbour.

" I'll think of it/' said I, at that time thinking
I never should ; but having, since that time, been,
like his chestnut (but in another way), a good deal
blown, but not, like him, regularly planted, I
thought of neighbour's hint and took it.

41

CHAP. 11.

Qualifications of a Hunter. — Amount of Work that may be ex-
pected of Him, — Discipline of old and young Hunters.

Haying now given some of my general ideas of
the hunting- field J I shall attempt to offer what I
trust may be useful advice to some persons^ on
more particular points as regards the hunting-
rider than the many more valuable treatises on
the chase afford; and^ in doing so, I shall adopt
the plan of conversation with a friend, as in my
work on " Practical Horsemanship."

Perceiving a gentleman coming across Windsor
Great Park at a nice workmanlike hand-gallop,
I looked carefully at him as he came towards me.
His seat was firm, neat, and gentlemanlike, and
his horse one that, seen going, would disgrace no
hunting-field, and would be held a fine horse in
Hyde Park. Coming to one of the small ditches,
of which there are many in Windsor Park, the
horse rushed at it, made a kind of stop before he
jumped, and then took it at a kind of buck leap,
which threw the rider a little out of place.

42 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

By this time I had recognised my friend and
quondam pupil in road-riding. After the usual
salutations, I complimented him on his seat, and
admired his horse.

" I see," said my friend, laughing, " you begin
with me in your usual way as a preliminary
step."

'' And pray," said I, " what may that be ? "

" Why,'' said he, " to use stable phrase, you
mpe me down with a soft duster."

"Where," said I, bowing, "I see so little
superfluity to be removed, a cambric handkerchief
even would suffice."

"And that handkerchief, to carry on the meta-
phor," said my friend, " you have scented pretty
highly for my use : but I know, in the progress
of my dressing, I shall get the currycomb con
amove. So, to begin, how do you like my
horse ? "

" He is very handsome," said I, " and goes
well."

" Is he well bred enough for a hunter ? "

" Quite," I replied.

" How as to size ?" said my friend.

" Precisely the size I should select," said I.

" Strong enough ?" inquired he.

"Quite up to thirteen stone," said I; "and
you do not ride more than twelve."

TAKEN ABACK. 43

"I gave a good deal of money for him^ I
assure jou/' said lie.

" I dare say you did/' said I ; '^ such a horse
will always command such a price.^^

" Well/^ said he, " I in no way grudge the
price. I bought him for a hunter; and as you
think so well of him for that purpose, I am much
pleased with myself for having purchased him.^^

" I am not aware," said I, ^' of ha\dng ex-
pressed myself in terms to lead you to such a con-
clusion. If I have, I must correct them."

"Why," said my friend, "you say he is big
enoug'h, strong enough, and shows breeding suffi-
cient for a hunter, that he goes well, and is a fine
horse ; moreover, that he would command a
strong price, by which I understand that he is
worth it."

" This is all quite correct," I repHed ; " you
asked my opinion of your horse merely as an
animal, you did not ask it as to how far I ap-
proved of him as a hunter. The qualifications
he has are all requisite or desirable in a hunter,
but they alone do not make him one. That
he is not one at present, the way he took the
little water drain you rode him over satisfied me
at once ; and I see things about him that, I may
fairly prognosticate, will prevent his ever be-
coming, or, at all events, lasting as one."

" And what are these ? " said he, evidently

44 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

disappointed^ but quite in good-lmmour_, at my
remark.

''1 believe/^ said I^ ''Miunters have pretty-
strong occasions for legs^ and tliose of a good
sort. Now^ liis are of a sort tliat I never knew
carry a hunter long togetlier. His liave the
worst faults I consider the legs of a hunter can
have ; they incline back at the knee, and he is
particularly small just beneath it; in stable
phrase, ^ tied in under the knee : ' in the next
place, he turns his toes out. The first imperfec-
tion produces undue strains on the back ligaments
of the leg j the second prevents free space for
action of each ligament ; and both together must,
with the exertions of a hunter, produce lame-
ness, and most probably of an irremediable cha-
racter. The third imperfection, though it may
permit his escaping hitting his ankles while merely
ridden as a pleasure-horse, would, if fatigued,
which all hunters must at times be, cause him to
cut his legs to pieces. He is well calculated for
what you are now doing with him, is a fine
horse, goes in a gentlemanly form, and does it
safely to his rider. For this, he is worth a
strongish price ; keep him at that. Most pro-
bably, if you wish to part with him, you will find
a purchaser without loss. Ride him half a season
with hounds (if he could go as long), he would
be worth little or comparatively nothing."

ANALOGOUS CASES. 45

" Well said, my friend ; if you have not, as I
foretold, currycombed me, you have my horse with
no light hand/^

"Alter your term, my good fellow,'' said I,
" and you will be right : I have said little or
nothing against your horse, but I allow a good
deal against your hunter ; but as you compliment
me by asking my opinion of hunters, I will write
something for you on that subject/'

I did so to the following purport.

Supposing a man to determine to become a
regular hunting-man, and that he has time, health,
nerve, and money to enable him to become such,
he must first secure his stud. Many persons may
naturally say, that "before he gets the stud he
should learn to ride them." This seems a quaint,
and somewhat stringent, observation, I admit;
but I shall attempt to answer it by supposing a
case of quite a different character.

A girl or novice wishes to become a proficient
on an instrument ; it certainly is not necessary to
purchase the best that money can get, while she is
merely thrumming the gamut ; but a certain pro-
ficiency being obtained, it would not do to prac-
tise fine and difficult pieces on a poor instrument,
if we wished the pupil to cultivate a chaste ear,
as well as good execution.

It is somewhat thus Avith a man wishing to
become a hunting rider. It is quite true that

46

THE HUNTING-FIELD.

before lie gets a stud lie should learn to ride.
But riding a hack on the road will not teach a
man to ride a hunter across country_, though it is
the A B C to his doing so. Hence, to have the
stud, or, at all events, a horse or two of such de-
scription as we infer the stud to be composed of,
is desirable, and even necessary, to the learning
to ride them. Purchasing one hunter will cer-
tainly teach a man to ride him, and greatly assist
him in riding others. It would be proper enough
to put a pupil on a thoroughly made, safe, and
pleasant hunter: but if he confined his practice
to riding such a horse, he would never be able to
make the most of any other sort ; and if a man
aspires to become quite a workman, he must learn
to be able to ride in any country, and any sort of
horse fit for a gentleman to mount as a hunter;
to do this he should ride in different countries and
a variety of horses.

Assuming, therefore, that as it is desirable to
have a fine instrument in order to practise fine
music, and that it is also desirable to have a horse
with hunting qualifications to enable the rider to
practice hunting riding, we will turn our atten-
tion to the consideration of what is necessary in
point of qualifications to constitute a hunter.

At the present day, there is no horse in exist-
ence requiring such a combination of good qualities
as the hunter. There was a time when the best

" Othello's occupation's gone." 47

judges of horses lielcl it as a maxim, that " a good
hunter could be purchased any day, but a good
hack not more than once a year ; " and in bygone
daj^s such a maxim was perfectly just. Any
horse that could bear six or seven hours' fatigue,
gallop a moderate pace, and jump safely at very
moderate fences, was a hunter : but in those days
the hack, to be a perfect one, required a multi-
tude of good qualities, — he wanted as much
speed, when called on, as the hunter, good temper,
the best of action, in all his paces, going with ease
to the rider and himself, not too hasty but always
ready to go, a perfect mouth, perfect safety, the
best of legs and feet, and the best of constitutions,
to which must be added indomitable game; for
while the hunter has the excitement of the cry of
hounds, and the bustle of a crowd of horsemen, to
keep his spirits up, the hack has nothing but the
gameness of his nature to enable him to finish
with cheerfulness and safety the last twenty of a
journey of sixty or sometimes eighty miles, in
thirteen or fourteen hours. Time was, and indeed
not more than a century back, when it was only
on the high road that a carriage could travel at
anything beyond a foot pace, with an occasional
jog-trot; and even on the best turnpike roads six
miles an hour was held fair work; in fact, the
mails astonished the whole country in under-
taking to do eight. Under such circumstances, a

48 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

really safe and good liack was invaluable to men
who, from motives of business or pleasure, wished
to get over the country with expedition ; and this
fully justified them in valuing such a horse as a
greater treasure than a good hunter. I remember,
as a boy, a friend of my father^ s had a horse he
always rode as a hack in summer, and as cover
hack in winter. This horse looked a hunter all
over. Some one asked why he never hunted this
horse : " No,^^ said he, " he is too valuable as a
hack to risk him with hounds.^' Now-a-days such
horses are quite at a discount ; for anything that
is good looking, safe on a smooth road, pleasant
to ride, and has that kind of knee-up action that
would some years since have caused his immediate
rejection, is quite good enough for a hack. A
pleasant ridiug horse is now, and possibly ever
will be, wanted; but a thorough game hack is
uncalled for ; for who that had sixty miles to go
would ride that distance on a high road, when he
can now go quicker and far pleasanter in a light
trap, and four times as fast by a railroad? and
even that I hold pleasanter than riding a distance
on a high road. I have heard old men mention
many persons they knew who, a century back,
would give their hundred for a good hack, when
fifty was thought a strongish price for a hunter.

These two horses have, therefore, quite changed
places since the days I refer to. To be in all

GENTLE:\rANLY EXPENDITURE. 49

particulars a good Imnter, he must now be the
good horse, for ridden as hunters now are in coun-
tries where hounds go like greyhounds, unless a
horse is really good he cannot live at the pace.
It is true there are horses that would bring a long
price^ though it is known that, figuratively speak-
ing, they are not worth a farthing after the first
burst ; and such horses are really valuable to cer-
tain men of large fortune : such a hor&e is pro-
bably most brilliant in his performance for thirty
minutes, his master then jumps on his second
horse, the first goes home, and is not wanted
again for eight or ten days. Now supposing this
to be the case, on a rough calculation of what
this horse costs in keep, his share of strappers,
stud groom, stabling, and so forth, his master is
riding him at a trifle under eighteen pence a
minute, and at the rate of four pounds some
shillings per hour for the time he rides him.

I know a man particularly fastidious in his
snuff and cigars ; for the particular kind he takes
of the first he pays tenpence an ounce, and for
very choice and old cigars he gives anything that
is asked him. I know he gave a shilling a piece
for some said to have belonged to the late Duke
of Sussex ; of each of the cigars he buys he only
smokes half, and then declares ^^tlie aroma be-
comes vitiated.^^ Now he has only to ride at
eighteen pence per minute, and his hunting.

50 THE HUNTIXG-FIELD.

snuffing, and smoking, would make a very gentle-
manly amount of expenditure.

Such a horse as I have mentioned is certainly
a very clever hunter, and affords the rider a great
treat for the short time he is carried by him;
but we cannot call a horse who would shut up if
hounds went a few fields beyond what in racing
phrase we should term '' his length '' a good
hunter, that is, he is not comparatively so; and
yet, if a horse can go brilliantly for thirty minutes
over a flying country, he muse not be called half
a bad one, though he is not one to bear long-
continued fatigue. Now, singular as the assertion
may at first appear, if I were a man of very large
fortune I would never wish to ride what are com-
monly held to be good horses, that is, very lasting
ones, for such usually take more care of them-
selves than I like ; and, personally, I would not
ride the best horse in the world twice if I had to
be " getting him along," and driving him at every
fence he came to. Such are good horses for men
who hunt three times a week with a couple ; but
for a man who wishes to be carried pleasantly,
they are execrable, for it is the difference between
being carried like a gentleman for amusement, or
like a whip while doing his duty.

I never could bear riding horses that were not,
in stable phrase, a little ^' above their work."
Now there are two ways of having them always so.

CUT YOUR COAT TO YOUR CLOTH. 51

The man who keeps a stud of fourteen or
fifteen hunters may do this and hunt six days a
week^ having a second horse out each day ; but a
man who keeps but few, if he wishes to have his
horses as fit to go as those of his wealthy brother
sportsman, must limit his hunting to the strength
of his stable ; he may (if from the fixture he
anticipates a regular clipper) occasionally treat
himself to having a second horse out; but he
must also occasionally, if he has had a burster
with a first fox, go home ; for ditto with a second
would probably prevent his horse coming again
for ten or a dozen days. By this management I
have, with my short stud, at times hunted six
days a week ; but to do this a man must not take
liberties with his horses. I do not call getting a
good place and keeping it taking liberties, for I
am quite satisfied that a man who judiciously
goes straight distresses his horse the least; but
then he must have tact, judgment, and a watchful
eye, to make the most of his horse at proper
times, and in proper situations ; and, what is still
more necessary, to (if I may use the expression)
make the least of him when and where he can do
so without losing his place : this is done by re-
gulating the pace and form of your horse^s going
in accordance with the ground you are going
over, by never omitting to take a pull at him
the moment you find he wants it, by taking

£ 2

53 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

every fence, if the clioice is given, at a part that
calls for the least exertion to him, by stopping
and turning his face to the air the instant a
check enables you to do so, by being on the
alert to go the moment hounds " hit it off again,^^
so as not to have ground to make up, which
will often beat a horse in three or four fields^
length. Never mind a good-humoured quiz from
a more wealthy brother sportsman, but in " slow
going " way, if you see a check is likely to last
five minutes, jump off your horse's back, but be
ready to as quickly jump on again. Take it as a
true fox-hunting maxim, though one of my own,
"never lose a second of time;'' it is the true spirit
of fox-hunting in all its appliances in the field.
Above all things, nothing should be more avoided
than larking in going to hounds, in the field, or
on coming home ; men with large studs may do
it, but it takes a great deal out of horses. Have
a shy across country if you like it, if your horses,
from some circumstance, are short of work ; it will
then do them good : but a small stud cannot stand
larking on hunting days. Ride with hounds like
a sportsman ; ride to keep with hounds, but
never ride when hunting to keep with men.

There are men who are not very particular as
to their horse's looks as regards condition, or their
being quite equal to, or a little above their work ;
and horses in such state will go through runs

NO GRATIFICATION IN TORCED SERVICES. 53

liowever severe tliey may be ; but tliey are made
to do it, and consequently do not do it like gen-
tlemen^s hunters. I could find in tlie Oxford or
Cambridge stables, hunters that are let out by the
day, who could be made to do quite as much as
the highest-priced horse out, go as straight, and
go as long. I never mounted a hired hunter in
m}^ life, but have seen many others on them, so I
speak as an eye-witness in this matter ; but I
should feel no gratification in riding such. I hate
the idea of making either horse or man do any-
thing for me by compulsion ; do it willingly, or I
have no pleasure in what is done. I could avail
myself of the capability of an unwilling horse to
fetch a doctor for a friend in a case of emergency,
and would draw his capabilities out if steel and
whipcord could do it ; but I would no more ride
such a horse for my own gratification as a hunter,
be he the best in the world, than I would get the
doctor to trepan me under a similar idea. Still
less would I ride a horse unwilling from over-
work ; and the better I knew the animal in nature
to be, the more it would go against me to call on
him for efforts that I knew must be made with
pain to himself : in fact, for whatever purpose we
use a horse, I hold it to be indispensable that he
does his work with a certain degree of pleasure
to himself, if we expect to derive any pleasure
from his exertions. The moment work becomes

E 3

54 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

slavery to a horse^ I consider it slavery to ride or
drive liim. What renders work slavery must not
be calculated by the quantum of the work, but
by the capability of the animal to endure it.
"Who would ride a four or five years' old hardy
constitutioned race-horse in training for pleasure ?
I would as soon ride an ass ; in fact, many a well-
used lively one would be the pleasanter animal.
I allow such a race-horse as I allude to probably
is in the best possible state and form he can be
for great performance, but his work having neces-
sarily been made a bore to him, renders it a bore
to ride him. He is a machine wound up to the
highest point to qualify him for a certain exer-
tion to win money, and that is all that is looked
to by trainer or owner.

The horses we ride or drive for pleasure should
also be in the highest possible state of condition
for the purposes for which we use them ; and this
they may be with still having vivacity and energy
enough to make them do their work with willing-
ness. This difference may be explained by com-
paring a hard-worked country plate-horse with a
two years' old ; both are in training, and both, we
will suppose, in their best form ; but the training
of the one is a perfect bore to him, while to the
other it is little more than healthy recreation.
The first, on being saddled for exercise, will stretch
and yawn like a man unwillingly aroused from

WORK A TOIL AND WORK A RECREATION. 55

sleep; he may be safely enougli walked straight
out of the stable, and be kicked along to the ex-
ercise ground : the other probably may require a
few turns round the yard, or some enclosed place,
before the boy could venture to take him on to
an open down; he would walk, canter, gallop, or
trot, if permitted to do so, cheerfully, pleasantly,
and probably safely. The other feels a gallop a
bore, a walk no recreation, and would (unless
watched) just as soon blunder on his nose as
stand on his legs. In a very mitigated degree,
something like this is the difference between a
hunter above his work and one below it. The
absolute capabilities of both may be equal, but
the cheerfulness or the reverse with which the
work is done is widely different. The reader can
now choose in which of the two ways he makes
up his mind to be carried.

I will suppose that some one may determine,
from the different representations I have made,
to have his horses quite up to, or a little above,
their work. To enable him to do this, I must
give him a hint that he may find by no means
unnecessary.

There is no doubt but that in a general wa}^
a man may calculate, that with a given number
of horses he may, on an average, expect to get
a certain number of days' hunting during the
month ; and such calculation would hold good

E 4

56 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

where a large stud is kept : for instance, there
are packs where nine horses are kept for the
huntsmen and whips ; there are others where from
fifteen to eighteen are kept for the same purpose.
And such a stud will exhibit, taking all the horses
together, a fair average of capability among them
as regards endurance of work. Among them,
probably, the generality will, barring illness and
accident, come regularly once a week. Some
may occasionally, from blank days, be able to
come twice ; while others, more delicate in consti-
tution, or from particularly severe runs, will not
be able to appear again under ten days, or in
some cases a fortnight : thus the whole, by (in
sporting phrase) ^' giving and taking," keep up
the average amount of work in a limited time.

The case, however, becomes widely diflPerent
with a small number of horses ; and supposing my
reader to be one of many who only keep, we will
say, three hunters for their use : if he means with
these to hunt on an average three days a ^a eek,
he must be careful that his horses are of an
average sort, for should he happen to get hold of
tw^o delicate ones out of the three, he will find
that though eighteen horses will be quite certain
to carry three men six days a week, three are by
no means certain to carry one man three. If he
gets three fair constitutioned ones, he will do ; for
as the exertion called forth in a horse during a

TOO MUCH AND TOO LITTLE WORK. 57

day's hunting is by no means always the same, if
an unusually severe run takes something unusual
out of one of his nags, so a very light clay's work
may enable his Monday's horse to come again on
the Friday; but however stout and good a horse
may be, he cannot be expected to stand very
frequent extra work to favour a delicate stable
companion : it will thus be seen that the fewer
horses a man keeps the better they must be, that
is, so far as endurance of regular exertion goes.

The man of forty thousand a year can afford
to keep a stud-groom who never lays a hand on a
brush; so he may keep two or three or more
favourite flyers who can only on an average come
once in ten days : but the man of eight hundred
or a thousand a year must keep men who can
and wdll strap, and must keep horses who in their
vocation can strap also ; if he does not, he must
hunt very seldom, or ride horses under their

work.

There are two especial circumstances that oc-
casion hunters to be unfit for the work they are
called upon to perform. The one is too little
work, the other too much of it; for the want
of proper feeding w^e do not contemplate as likely
to occur in any gentleman's stables. I am quite
aware that where any great performance is wanted,
the horse overworked, as to work, would be a
preferable animal to the one short of it; in

58 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

fact, the latter would be absolutely incapable of
such exertion. Still, personally, I would at any
time rather ride a horse a little above himself,
and go home after the first burst, than ride a
jaded dispirited automaton animal, though I
might drive him through the best run man ever
saw.

Of course, where horses are properly managed,
they are seldom found in either of the states
I have mentioned. One thing I am perfectly
satisfied of, though in giving the opinion I pre-
mise to the reader it is one he must act on with
great caution ; nevertheless I am certain it is
correct, '' Where one gentleman's horse gets too
much work, a great number get too little/^
When I use the term work, I do not mean the
sort of work we give tliem for our use or amuse-
ment, but the sort of work necessary to bring
them into a high state of condition. My meaning
as to work might be very easily misunderstood ;
for instance, supposing a man to pay me the com-
pliment of acting on any opinion of mine, he
might say, " If other gentlemen's horses get too
little work, it shall not be the case with mine.
I will hunt each horse twice a week." In such
a case, there can be no doubt but these horses
would have work enough; in fact, a good deal
too much, unless they hunted with hare-hounds,
and those not over fast either. The great fault

DirrERENT SORTS OF WORK. 59

in many liorse-masters is^ tliey work tlieir horses
too mucli when they want them^ but are not
careful that they get enough when they do not.
Such work as I advocate, namely, strong exercise,
raises the spirits from obvious reasons ; it braces
the nerves, invigorates the limbs, clears the wind,
and freshens the constitution. Such is the effect
a day^s proper exercise has on the hunter, while,
on the contrary, a day^s hunting produces tempo-
rary lassitude, prostration of the spirits and animal
powers : this will show the wide difference there
must be in the energy and condition of the horse
hunted once a week with proper exercise on the
intervening days, and the horse hunted twice, and
consequently prevented taking the work that
invigorates, and getting too often that which
enervates.

Old fashioned sportsmen might say, ^' My horse
gets work enough when hunting, so let him rest
himself when he is not.^^ This might hold good
enough when horses hunted with slow hounds,
and were ridden perhaps twice a week. That
sort of work kept them speedy enough, and their
wind clear enough for the pace they were wanted
to go ; but it would be rather a novel system of
training if we were to walk, canter, and gallop
a race-horse for six or eight hours twice a week,
and leave him idle the remaining five, that he
might rest himself: it is as little to be expected

GO THE HUNTlNG-riELD.

that a liimter can be brouglit to the condition he
should be in by jading him one day and resting
him three.

Persons are sometimes very much deceived as
to the effect standing two or three days in the
stable has on horses^ by what they see of them
when out. Doubtless the horse will fling himself
about, snort, jumip, and kick at anything that
comes near him : this is not energy from standing
in the stable, but delight at getting out of it ; he
feels an invigorating atmosphere in lieu of a
heated and enervating one, but so far from this
being genuine energy, he has no energy in him
but for the moment. Some livery-stable groom
might say, '' There, Sir, he is fit to go a hundred
miles for you ; '' when the truth would be, he was
not fit to go twenty, and would probably realise
the somewhat equivocal recommendation given by
a low horse-dealer of a ten-pound nag, to a some-
what simple young gentleman : " Go ! why, Lord
love ye, Fve known him go so far in one hour, it
took him three to get back ! ''

We have frequently heard that all but extinct
character, the country squire, accused of being
somewhat boisterous in his hilarity : we seldom
hear that brought forward as a characteristic of
the man devoted to calculating tare and tret, the
value of consols or counter goods. Whence arose
this ? — From a very simple cause. In the days of

AIR AND EXERCISE VERSUS TURTLE. 61

country squires it was not held as ^' gauche rie'' to
indulge in a laugli^ or considered indispensable to
ton not to evince tlie slightest excitement on any
occurrence in society ; so the athletic pursuits of
the squire causing him to be in the height of
health and consequent spirits^ a little elated him_,
and he indulged in a ringing laugh on the occa-
sion. The cit glories over his turtle, and the
next day takes some specific to stimulate the
organs of digestion, that, from want of air and
exercise, would otherwise be incompetent to their
duty ; the muscular country hunter and the
livery-kept cob are prototypes of the above.

Another very great mistake is made by many
persons, in considering that old horses should be
indulged by an extra allowance of rest compared
to that which is permitted the young ones of their
stud. The incentive to such practice is an ami-
able, but it is at the same time a mistaken one.
Old horses cannot bear entire rest ; they may be
favoured as to the frequency of calling forth great
exertion from them, but a couple of days of entire
rest brings on all their old aches and pains arisino-
from work, blows, and falls. Exercise is life to
them ; it keeps the vital functions going, and
limbs, that regular and daily exercise keep pliant,
become stiff and rigid by continued absence of
motion ; any exertion, under such circumstances,
is attended with pain : and if an old horse is still

62 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

in a state to work without pain to himself, the
only way to enable him to do so is to keep him
going. If a young horse should be stiff the day
after hunting, in him all the vital functions are in
such full play that rest will restore his limbs to
their wonted elasticity ; not so with the old one :
his flagging energies must be quickened by motion,
or swelled legs, general stiffness, and consequent
disinclination to motion from the pain it creates,
is the certain consequence.

In corroboration of what I state, I will refer to
machineers, or, in other words, stage-coach horses.
Many a team of these, composed of four highly
bred old cripples, would gallop over their five or
six miles of ground at the rate of fourteen miles
an hour, and return the same stage in the evening,
without, figuratively speaking, turning a hair, or
requiring a touch of the whip, and would do such
work better by far than young ones: and why
they would do so arose from the following causes ;
being old cripples, as they wxre, they could be
got, in stable phrase, " of a pretty good family ; ''
that is, so very highly bred that had they been
young or at all sound they could not have been
purchased at coach price, and if under bred, they
could not have stood the pace. Such highly bred
horses had years of hard keep in them ; the work
they had all their lives been at had kept them

EFFECT OF PROTRACTED REST. G3

clear in their wincl^ and a fast pace liad from use
become natural to them.

If these same horses were put to a long stage,
where they worked two days and rested one, the
two rested horses Avould, so far from being in the
best state of the four to commence their stage,
come out of the stable as stiff as if they had no
joints to their limbs ; nor till they had hobbled and
cantered a couple of miles could they settle to any-
thing like a trot. Old hunters are, in a mitigated
way, similarly affected by absence of exercise.

We all know that aged horses will stand more
work than very young ones ; but neither aged nor
old horses will stand great exertion and long rest
alternately.

In former times it was a frequent practice, if a
hunter got a little stale, to ^' give the old horse a
year's run ; " and the groom would prognosticate,
and the master feel assured, that old Topthorn
Avould come up ^^ as fresh as a four year old : "
nor was the idea altogether a mistaken one of its
day. Such long rest would in many cases and
ailments prove beneficial to a horse returning to
the slow work hunting was in such days; and
getting gradually into hard keep again, and
gradually getting again into the pace required of
him, the year's run probably did prolong his
hunting career, and answered the intended pur-

61^ THE HUxVTING-FIELD.

pose. But, iiow-a-daj^s, if we were to tlirow an
old liorse totally out of the practice of fast work,
and, still worse, out of hard keep, not one in twenty
could ever be screwed up again (not to concert)
but to hunting pitch : fortunate the owner, if he
did not come up a roarer or broken- winded.

I will instance the veteran Mountjoy, the
pedestrian: he can still perform extraordinary
feats. Force him to lead a perfectly sedentary
life for twelve months; he might by training aud
practice again walk well as an ordinary man, but
the chances would be very great against his ever
again being Mountjoy as he now is. Constant
going still enables him to go, and so it does old
horses.

Young horses, on the contrary, require a con-
siderable length of comparative rest to recover
from unusual exertion. They have not been long
enouirh accustomed to it for habit to have fami-
liarised its effects either to their limbs, muscles, or
constitution, all of which suffer considerable tem-
porary prostration by it, however little youthful
spirits may make them show it. The old horse
is so accustomed to exertion, that in him its chief
effect is creating stiffness, which proper exercise
carries off.

I do not attempt to account for it, while I
state that it was rarely found that very young
men could stand driving night coaches; we

THE EFFECT OF CONDITION AND PRACTICE. 65

might suppose that youth would better endure
such harass than age. Such, however, was not
usually found to be the case : thus it will be seen
that in mankind, youth and more advanced age
can equally bear considerable fatigue, but both
can best bear it in a different way ; and I have
found it the same with horses.

We have now steeple-chase horses going at
from ten to fifteen years old. I am quite clear
that in nine cases in ten with these, if we were
to throw them up for twelve months, they Avould
never come out again in as good form as they
are, however great screws and cripples some may
be.

We know quite well that extreme exertion in
youth is apt to come against us in age. I quite
grant such to be a fact to be anticipated; but
then the question may arise, " At w^hat age is
such eff'ect likely to manifest itself ? '^ This re-
quires some little explanation. Of course the
amount of eflPect, and the age at which it will
probably be felt, depends on circumstances and
also on persons.

All persons more or less possess considerable
elasticity of limbs at twenty years of age ; how
long this may last depends, in most cases, on how
far the situation, circumstances, constitution, and
inclination of the person permit, or induce him
to take the exercise and practice necessary to

F

66 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

keep tliis elasticity in play. We see public
dancers, at forty, whose elasticity is not dimi-
nished perceptibly to the eye of the audience. It
is thus with some runners, walkers, and vaulters ;
but if, at the age of twenty, any one of these
were to leave off his usual training exercise, in a
very few weeks his elasticity would be most visi-
bly decreased, in a few months most materially
impaired, in two or three years so irretrievably
injured as probably never to be completely re-
stored ; and at forty he would, if he again tried
any of his former exploits, find himself about
as elastic as a well-dried blackthorn walking-
stick.

I have heard it remarked, and particularly in
reference to steeple-chase horses, that quadrupeds
do not seem to lose their elastic powers propor-
tionally so early in life as men do ; and this
remark is natural enough when we daily see aged
horses jump as wide and high as those of four
or five years old, while, on the other hand, we
rarely see a man of even thirty able to cope with
youths of eighteen in exercise requmng great
elasticity of limb.

It is not my province here to enter on any dis-
quisition on the parallel periods when the elastic
qualities of biped and quadruped decline, or how
long, under ordinary circumstances and treat-
ment, they may be preserved in each ; but why

WHY HORSES RETAIx\ ELASTIC POWER. 6/

they appear to last longer in horses than men, I
think I can account for with fair reasons on my
side.

We do not leave it to the inchnation of the
horse whether or not he will continue that sort
of exertion, training, and practice necessary to
keep his elasticity, as to speed or jumping, in its
fullest vigour. Those horses we see at twelve
or fourteen jumping so corkily as to excite oiu-
surprise, have been constantly kept in practice of
their elastic powers; so, till absolute infirmity
occurs, they still retain them. But if we lent
a hunter to an elderly man to jog-trot, an airino-
only, if he took to the horse at eight, and rode him
till he was fourteen years old, I rather think we
should then find such a horse, and a man of a pro-
portionate corresponding time of life and habits,
about equally unwilling and unable to take a
sixteen feet brook.

The training necessary to enable man or brute
to achieve any athletic feat beyond ordinary ex-
ertion, I can, from repeated practical personal
experience, assure such readers as have not been
subjected to it, is anything but pleasant, — the
sensations felt when brought into high condition
are decidedly so; so are the sensations we feel
in viewing a sublime prospect from the summit
of a mountain ; but the walk up is far from a
luxury, and in fact, when daily repeated, becomes

F 2

68 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

a bore ; so does the daily exertion required of a
man by bis trainer.

But without the necessity of going into regular
training, the exertion required to keep up elas-
ticity is such as very few men, left to follow their
own inclinations, wall continue. So soon as this
ceases elasticity decreases, and man becomes in
the situation of the horse I suppose to be jog-
trotted by the elderly gentleman. And, as I
think I may say, ninety-nine men in a hundred
wall indulge in ease if they can ; so it is that we
do not see more than one man in a hundred that
at middle age has even a moderate portion of
elastic feat about him, though the horse of pro-
portionate age has.

The old masters of hunting establishments
would say, that to do a horse justice he should
not be backed till five years old, hunted at all till
six, or go through a run till seven. I doubt not
that if we wanted a mere useful animal, and one
to live so long that we should grow grey in riding
him, our worthy ancestors were right ; and this is
something like what they did want, and probably
often got; but I must hazard the opinion, that if
we want extraordinary speed aud elasticity, the
practice of such must, with a proper consideration
of a tender age, be called forth early, or in very
few cases will they become prominent.

If a man merely w^ants to walk a quadrille as

APPLIANCES roil PREVAILING TASTE. GO

a gentleman, or undergo the triPiing more exertion
of a polka, lie can well do tliis if lie never put a
foot in the first position till he was five-and-
twenty ; but if a man was intended for an opera
dancer, and never straightened an instep till that
age, we might as well expect a gavotte from Gog
or Magog as from him.

I am quite willing to agree, that calling forth
powers of speed, or jumping, at an early age may
cause an earlier fading of such poAvers than would
be the case if their practice was deferred to a
later period. I am equally willing to allow, that
it is not necessary that opera dancing should be
carried to the pitch it is ; nor is it that hounds
should go the pace they do, still less that leaps
undreamt of a century ago should be taken in
steeple-chaso^s ; but as aristocratic fashion patro-
nises such lancing, if men of sense, high edu-
cation, fash on, and fortune decree that hounds
must be as fast as race-horses, and that steeple -
chasing shall be a national sport, each will go
on, and, what is more, means (that is, appliances)
must somehow be found to gratify prevailing
taste. If we determine to have extraordinary
exertion of animal functions, we must adopt those
measures that conduce to bring them to the
greatest perfection ; and if, by producing certain
qualities in a supereminent degree, we shorten
their durability, as we cannot have everything,

F 3

70 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

why so it must be. Of tlie propriety of all this,
or its reverse, I leave those competent to the task
to give their opinions ; I only speak of facts as I
see them.

Stating, or rather giving, an opinion, as I have
done, that strong and constant exercise is abso-
lutely essential to keep the hunter in that state
of condition requisite to perform the work wanted
in our present style of hunting, I might be asked,
whether I mean he should undergo the discipline
of the race horse ? To this I could only give a
qualified reply, namely, '^ At particular times he
must undergo work very closely bordering on it,"
and principally for the following reasons : —

It was held by our ancestors of, we will say,
the last century, that it was not expected that
hunters, or indeed hounds, could be in really
good wind and condition in the early part of the
season ; it was further a frequent remark of those
days that " just as horses, hounds, and even
foxes, were in a state to show the best sport,
hunting ceased," and doubtless the remark was a
perfectly correct one : and we will now look to
the causes that made it so.

In the first place, the reason why horses could
not possibly be in hunting condition early in the
season, arose from their being, during the summer,
totally thrown out of it, the lower-bred, phlegmatic,
thick-skinned ones came up loaded with soft flesh.

OLDEN TIMES. 71

in short, exemplifications of walking featlier-beds ;
the higher bred ones showed as comparative skele-
tons, with their feet battered to pieces by stamping
at and running about to evade the flies. Yet
was this system held out as a sovereign invigo-
rator of the animal powers and spirits. I think
there can be scarce a doubt but the hunting
groom, on such horses returning to his charge,
treated all alike, that is, each got his three doses
of physic, each got the same feeding and exercise,
and having got this, all was considered to have
been done necessary to condition; the fat ones,
from the extra distress their load of flesh occa-
sioned, in time worked it off*, and the thin ones
from returning to proper feeding worked it on.

This answered the moderate expectations of the
owners of those days ; and, fortunately for the
horses, the hounds were in little better wind at
the commencement of the season than they, and
going out early the fox was found, either in the
state of a goui'mand with his supper undigested,
or like the young rake, tired with his night^s
ramble, so he was as little disposed to go as the
hounds were unable to make him, or the horses
to follow them. I mean this in no vein of
ridicule; on the contrary, a great deal of real
hunting was seen under such circumstances, and
" Hark on ! the drag I hear,^^ awakens ideas of
really more hunting delight than a race from an
V 4

72 THE HUNTING-riELD.

artificial or natural gorse cover. I only speak of
such hunting as showing the different state horses
must now be in on commencing the season.

We now meet at eleven : foxes have had time
to digest their midnight meal, and recover from
their night's ramble. In lieu of hunting in large
covers up to their kennel, we come on them at
once. Pug is awake ; here there is no " dodging,"
no " running his foil ; " go he must, or die where
he is. Like ministers of olden date, he takes a hint
and at once goes out, when he finds the majority
gives him a hint to do so : now -a- days they do not
show the white feather by so doing; but Pug
shows the white tip of his brush and does. It is
all well enough to hesitate in giving up the
emoluments of office, whether the adverse party
be Whigs or Tories, but where life or death is
the stake it becomes another affair, particularly,
as in Pug^s case, where the open-mouthed majority
are anything but Liberals.

Hounds are now brought out in as fine wind
and condition as greyhounds at a coursing meeting,
and save in the practice of endurance of long-
continued fatigue, are as fit for all hunting pur-
poses in November as in February ; so must, there-
fore, be the horses.

For some time prior to the first regular fixture,
the hunter requires pretty much the same exercise
as the race-horse gets (till within a fortnight or

MODERN TIMES. 76

three weeks of coming to post) ; lie must, to bring
him out fit to go, get his sweats (a thing unheard
of with the hunter in former times) ; but, when
we take into consideration that in fast countries
with a good scent, the first mile and a half is in
point of pace very nearly the same as the first
mile and a half of a two mile race, the necessity
of it will be seen; and, be it further borne in
mind, hunters go over heavier ground than race-
horses, and carry much heavier weight, to say
nothing of the exertion of fencing.

We will suppose the master of a stud to be
obliged to be absent for three weeks : a good-
natured but injudicious groom might determine
that his horses should enjoy themselves during this
interval of hunting. I might applaud the man's
kind feeling and intentions, but I should very
much deprecate his judgment; such treatment
would be anything but kindness to the horses,
inasmuch as daily exertion, supposing it to be
more than is absolutely pleasant, is far preferable
to an occasional day of severe distress, which
must as certainly follow the want of proper pre-
paration as the night succeeds the day.

"When horses come to be regularly hunted, the
regular training, or rather exercise, they had
undergone must be remitted; a day or two of
comparative rest during the week becomes ne-
cessary ; but with any horse, if in health, a short

74 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

walk to just stretch his limbs and give him the
advantage of air, if the day is fine, is in most cases
advantageous, and with old horses apt to be stiff
after hunting indispensable.

Rest we know to be, in its crude sense, the
absence of motion, and such rest for a given time
is requisite to recruit the jaded limb and spirits;
few hours of this suffice for that purpose : the
next stage of rest is the absence of exertion ; this
is also necessary for a given time, and provided
this is allowed, the prolonging the rest without
any motion at all would prove anything but
beneficial or conducive to bringing back the
energy of those functions that had been impaired
by over-exertion ; too long continued absence of
all motion causes stiffness instead of carrying it
off.

A man after a day of unusual fatigue may
very fairly indulge in a few hours extra bed the
next morning; he may even indulge further by
reclining at times on a sofa after rising ; but if
in health, he must be the most indolent of the
indolent, if the weather was tempting, did he not
in the course of the day feel an inclination to
take a stroll on the lawn before his window : this
might surely be called a day of rest, and a man
doing this would rise on the second morning
fresher in mind, body, and limb, than one who
might have passed the thirty-six hours in bed.

WHERE ABSOLUTE REST IS NECESSARY. 75

In a state of disease, that is, if that disease be
of an inflammatory nature, absolute rest is cer-
tainly necessary, in some cases even the absence
of all motion is desirable; and if, after severe
exertion, any sjnnptoms of fever manifest them-
selves, perfect rest and quiet are necessary to
prevent results that probably might end fatally.
But that which may be quite necessary in a case
of over-excitement of the general temperament,
is neither necessary nor conducive to the restora-
tion of the vigour and pliability of the limbs.

The question might naturally be put as to
whether the work hunters must go through to
bring them out in first-rate condition, does not
tend to impair the durability of their limbs and
constitution ? To a certain extent I should say it
probably does ; that is, there may be fewer horses
going with hounds at from twelve to twenty years
old than there were formerly. Great excitement
and great exertion naturally tend to wear, the one
the constitution, the other the limbs. Still I do
not consider it does this so much as might be
imagined.

There can be no doubt, but, if we purchased
two pair of, we will say, gig wheels, each made
of equally good materials, and each equally well
put together, and ran the one pair three hundred
miles per week, and the other only two, one pair
would be used up long before the other ; because

76 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

the wear upon each, ivldle going, would be the
same, and practice would in no shape diminish the
effect the work would have on the wheel. But
with animate objects it is quite different; for with
them habit and practice do diminish the effect
both of peculiar work and peculiar regimen.

The effect of the canter, or even trot, formerly
given to a horse coming up from grass loaded
with fat, and accustomed for three or four
months to total idleness, was possibly as great as
the increased work we now give horses has on an
animal v/hose limbs and muscles have been kept
to a certain degree braced by proper exercise and
proper food, during the same period of time. The
leg that is in a flaccid and debilitated state from
total idleness and soft grass food, would be quite
as likely to fly, or, in more familiar phrase, to give
way, in a common canter as would the one in a
more healthy and vigorous state in the exercising
gallop.

If we w^ere to select two horses of equal sound-
ness of limb and constitution, and feed, exercise,
stable, and work the one as was done a hundred
years since, and treat and work the other as we
do hunters of the present day, probably the first
might last more banting seasons than the latter ;
but for the number of seasons the latter might
last, he would be by far the most energetic
animal ; and, with all our fast work with hunters,

THE TRUE MAN OF FEELING. 77

I rather think the number of fired and s^vellinsr
legs^ and thick-winded horses, found in the
stables of our ancestors far exceeded those found
in our fastest Leicestershire stables now. One
thing is quite certain ; — horses in the then called
condition of 1790, could not live a forty minutes^
burst in a fast country in 1850, and, if they did,
probably would never see another ; at least so far
as the majority of horses is concerned.

I hope I shall never be induced to allow that
there is less humane feeling among fox-hunters
as regards animals than among any other class of
persons ; but from habit, and difference of ideas,
the result of habit, feeling is exhibited in dif-
ferent ways. A lady or an antisporting man
would indulge the favourite pony or cob in a five
miles an hour pace; the fast man w^ould not.
But the lady and the gentleman would unhesi-
tatingly keep the pet pony or cob Awaiting in the
cold, while one indulged in conversation on the
last new fabric for a dress, or the other on the
present value of three per cent, consols or the
struggles of wool versus cotton : — the fox-
hunter would not let his favourite horse endure
this to save the whole Stock Exchange, stock-
brokers, bank, and directors, from annihilation.
The prize-fighter thinks nothing of seeing his
dearest friend battered to a mummy for an hour
and a half. Why? Because he would think

78 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

little of undergoing the same in liis own person ;
but show him a suffering chilcl^ or a female treated
■with brutality, his feeling in either case might be
found as soft as those of the most effeminate
being that boasts the form of man, and would
probably lead him to take a far more active and
commendable part than the latter in allaying the
sufferings of the one or advocating the cause of
the other. Let us then throw to the winds the
twaddle of the inane and spiritless, who term the
fox-hunter inhumane for sending his horse at a
fence that we will allow risks neck and limb : it
may be unnecessary risk, and we will, to please
some, call it so, but, at all events, it is not
selfish risk, for rider and horse share in the
danger. It is true, horses, that is, hunters, do go
now at an awful pace; but their condition enables
them to do it, and, as I have before said, I believe
they do it with as little distress as hunters did
their work fourscore years ago. Neither pace
nor fencing lays the fox-hunter open to any
charge of inhumanity to his horse. Inhumanity
is only shown where he perseveres with a horse
in distress. Here I will join issue with any one
in expressing unqualified disgust at such conduct ;
and the inhumanity would be just the same
whether it was shown towards so good an animal
as Brunette in a steeple- chase, Advance in a run
of Leicestershire, or a pursive cob in a ride from

AND THUS ENDS THE SUBJECT, 7\)

Richmond^ if each were in a state of equal dis-
tress^ though arising from different causes and
exertions.

We cannot have all we wish in this world. I
therefore consider we are only left to the choice
of whether we will ride horses in half-and-half
condition^ with slow hunting, for twelve seasons,
or, allowing that severe exercise does shorten
duration of animal power, do so in tip-top form,
with fast hounds, for a shortened period. So far
as regards the amount of kindness or the reverse
towards the animal by the two different systems,
I believe it, on the aggregate, would be pretty
much the same.

80

CHAP. III.

Harry Hieover's Visit to a Stud. — The model Stud-groom. —
Remarks on different Hunter?. — Racing, Steeple-chasing, and
Hunting. — Practical Experiments.

Some time after sending tlie foregoing liints to
my friend as regards the qualifications necessary
in a Imnter, the general amount of work that,
under ordinary circumstances, may be expected of
liim, and the discipline necessary to bring and
keep him in form to perform his work, I received
a letter inviting me to his country-house, and to
see the stud he had selected for his first campaign
in the hunting-field. After my arrival, and prior
to being introduced to his horses, he paid me the
compliment of expr^sing a hope that I should
like their appearance. This could but call forth
an assurance of my not doubting but such would
])e the case.

On our way to the stables, my friend tele-
graphed a remarkably spicy gentleman, who, on
approaching, touched his hat, in a manner half-
knowing and half-patronising : whether the con-
descension was to me, his master, or both, it was
impossible to conjecture.

" I want to show Mr. Hieover tlie horses^
Forester/^ said my friend.

" Humph ! aristocratic and fox-hunting enough
as to name/^ thought I^ " if the blood was in the
right strain."

Mr. Forester took from his waistcoat pocket
a very neat gold hunter^ to which was attached a
very corresponding chain fixed to the button-hole
and finished off by a fox^s head key.

" It will be stable-hour^ Sir, in twenty mi-
nutes/^ said the lord, not valet, d^ecurie.

" Very Avell," said my friend, taking my arm,
and leading me away from the hallowed precincts
of Mr. Forester^ s dominion, in a manner that
plainly showed me any advice on my part would
be of no avail; inasmuch as, if given to my
friend, he would not dare to act on it, and if
given to ^Ir. Forester, it would be considered
about as necessary (though a little more pre-
sumptuous on my part) as holding a candle to the
sun.

" Forester is very particular," remarked his
master.

" In his dress I perceive he is," said I ; " and,
I presume, does not often disturb its arrangement
by any plebeian exertion."

But Mr. Forester was too important a per-
sonage for me to have passed over without proper
notice of his dress, which I now describe. His

G

82 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

hat was quite a proper one for a gentleman, and
put on with appropriate regard to taste ; liis hair
curled, naturally or artificially, just as hair should
curl to be becoming, while its glossy black showed
off to advantage a face of gentlemanly delicacy
and paleness ; the features were good, but with
a cuiming sinister cast, showing a very laudable
desire to be a rogue, and the full complement of
a puppy ; his cravat was proper enough as to
colour, dark blue with white spots, — the tie alto-
gether faultless, fastened by a gold pin, showing
the plate of a race-horse; the coat black, New-
market cut, made so as not to button, but fastened
at the second button -hole by blood- stone coat
studs ; his waistcoat a most proper length, dark
blue, the stitches white, flap lower pockets, the
upper ones artistically cut with a transverse slope,
and the corners critically rounded off: by the cut
of the trowsers, I guessed Mr. Forester did not
patronise a mere coat maker in their structure;
they were plain drab, but symmetrically cut, and
fitted to a very light boot as if stitched to it.
Such was the head functionary of my friend^s
stables : his age might be thirty.

" I see,^^ said my friend, " Forester is not one
of your sort.^^

" Not precisely,^' said I ; " but I never had the
means more than the inclination to employ such
superior artistes.^'

BETTER KNOWN THAN TRUSTED. 83

" I assui'e you/' said my friend, " he Avas very
highly recommended to me."

^' May I ask by whom ?" said I.

'^ By Mr. 's stud groom/' replied my

friend.

" I have not/' said I, " the advantage of any
personal acquaintance with the gentleman you
mention, hut being tolerably well acquainted with
the character and habits of most known sporting
men, I can only tell you I would not trust the
gentleman himself in my stable, much less a man
of his."

" You sm-prise me," said my friend.

" Yes," said I, '^ and the gentleman in question
has surprised a good many till they knew him."

" But," added my friend, " Forester has lived
with several noblemen."

" Who," said I, " finding him so fine a gentle-
man, considered it a pity to keep him in the situ-
ation of a servant ; at all events, if he has served
so many he cannot have served any long : but we
will not prejudge the man from his appearance,
which being so superior, may I ask the extent of
your stud, which, I should say, ought to be large
to require a superintendent that, I should imagine,
does not value his pretensions at a lower rate
than they merit ? "

" I have only five," said my friend, " in my
hunting stable ; I give Forester a hundred a-year,
o 2

84 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

a bed and sitting-room, and his eatables and
drinkables are supplied in the house.'^

'' No bad berth/^ said I ; " and may I ask what
help Mr. Forester considers it necessary to have
for five horses ? ''

" He has two strappers and a lad/^ replied my
friend.

'^ Which lad, I presume/^ replied I, " acts as
valet to Mr. Forester?''

" I believe he does what he wants/' said my
friend.

^' Yes/' said I, " and I dare say in this v/ay his
wants are more than your own. But possibly
now we may be permitted to see the nags."

On entering the stable JAt. Forester rose from
a bench placed against the wall; the lad was
hand-rubbing one horse's legs, the men brushing
over two others, all proper enough : the stable
was certainly scrupulously clean, the appurte-
nances to it all of the most expensive sort money
could buy, and plenty of them ; its arrangement,
however, partook too much of the London dealer,
and it was hot as a forcing-house : on one horse
I perceived one of the men rubbing out a stain,
showing marks of recent sweat. Remarking this
man as having quite the cut and action of a
stableman about him, I said to him,

" Your stable is rather warm, my friend."

^' Yes, Sir," respectfully replied the man, pulling

COOL. 85

his forelock^ groom fashion, in the absence of a
hat, '' I tell Mr. Forester so."

" Go on with your horse," most impertinently
said the latter to the man.

" Mr. Hieover thinks your stable too warm,
Forester," said his master.

" I canH have horses fine if stables aint a proper
warmth," replied he, " nor no man can."

" I will," thought T, " make them too warm to
hold you, Mr. Forester, if my friend intends me
to be his adviser."

Rather to my surprise, my friend ventured the
bold step of ordering each horse to be stripped
for my inspection without asking permission from
his stud groom, — a step that gentleman evinced
his proper reprobation of by coolly w^alking out of
the stable.

Of course, I made no remarks on the nags be-
fore the men, and on our inspection being com-
pleted, I was shown into the hack stable. Here
I found a very neat groom and his helper brushing
over two horses ; the men looked like work-
men, — the very speak of the brush on the curry-
comb, and the way they w^ere both handled,
showed the stableman in each, wdiile the condition
of the horses showed they were intrusted to proper
hands. Here wxre two very clever looking horses
that T understood were chiefly used for harness,
though looking far more like hunters in shape,

G 3

86 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

and far more still in condition, than four out of
the five under Mr. Forester^s direction ; the third
was my old friend I had seen in Windsor Park ;
the fourth my friend^s direct road hack, and, as I
was told, a trotter. Here was nothing to find
fault with either in horses or men, and I gladly
complimented the latter on the care evidently
taken with their charge.

The first dinner-bell ringing stopped further
stable comments, my friend, w^hen in the country,
venturing on the very anti- aristocratic practice of
dining at five. After a man has partaken of an
excellent salmon cutlet, part of a sweetbread,
duck, as waiters term it, "to follow,^^ the whole
finished with some jelly, he is far on the road to
being on tolerably good terms with things in
general ; but when to these are added some excel-
lent sparkling Moselle, warmed by some old sherry,
and the palate prepared for the dessert by a glass
of Curayoa, he is mostly in good humour with
every thing and every body : so was I, save and
except Mr. Forester and four of his horses.

As I had commenced discussing my friend^s bees-
wing, he led on to the discussion of his horses,
commencing, in his opinion I suppose par excel-
lence, with his hunters.

" Well,^^ said he, '' may I hope you saw some-
thing you liked in my little stud ? ^^

" I must be very fastidious indeed if I did not,"

PREPARING FOR THE FIELD. 87

said I, '' iov, in truth, tliey are of all sorts, sizes,
and dimensions/^

" Why/^ replied my friend, " I tliink I have
heard you say that one sort of horse is not fitted
for all countries, and I have not quite made up
my mind where I mean to make head- quarters in
this my first campaign/^

" You seem to have overlooked, in your wish
to have something to suit different countries, that,
supposing you had got this, you would in such
case have only one really effective horse for the
country you may fix on; and as a still greater
drawback," said I, " though a particular sort may
be, and really are necessary for particular countries,
— a bad sort are not fit for any country ; nor can
even a good sort if in bad condition go any
where. I will now/* continued I, " give you my
candid opinion of your stud, and also of your
stud-groom ; and will further, in a few days, send
you some general hints on the selection of hunters
that you will make such use of as you may think
proper ; as, however, hunting will very soon com-
mence in earnest, you have no time to lose in
your purchasing; but," continued I, ^^it would
be perfectly useless in me, or a more competent
person, to attempt giving you either advice or
assistance, either in the purchasing or management
of hunters, so long as you retain your present head
of stable affairs in your service."

G 4

88 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

" Can you give me any reason wliy I should
discharge him ? " said my friend, evidently adher-
ing to the idea that the soi-disant stable counseller
of several noblemen could, like crowned heads,
'' do no wrong,^^ and, moreover, ought no more
to be touched than '^ the Lord^s anointed/^

" I think I can,'' said I, " give several, or I
should not have even hinted at a step that I per-
ceive you hold to be of momentous importance.
In the first place, then, he knows nothing of his
business, — that the condition of your horses shows,
who you say have been two months in his hands ;
in the next place, he is too great a fool to learn, or
he would know better by this time ; thirdly, he
is too great a puppy to be taught, that his general
demeanour shows : and, fourthly, he is too imper-
tinent to be borne with as a servant, and that his
conduct this morning has shown. If these are not
reasons enough for his dismissal, your forbearance
and conscience equal in vulcanised india-rubber
properties, that of a Prime Minister in his selec-
tion and retention of servants of government
having strong parliamentary interest.''

" What would you advise me to do ? " said my
friend, "for I really begin to think you are
right."

"Personally," said I, "I always make short
work of it both with horses and servants, when I
find either absolutely burdens. My advice is, send

SHORT^ SHARP, AND DECISIVE. 89

for your delectable stud-grooin, give liim a montVs
wages, pay Lis way back to where lie came from,
give liim a couple of sovereigns extra to soften
his prompt dismissal, and start him by the first
conveyance in the morning ; you can give as a
reason for dismissing him that you intend to take
charge of your horses yourself/^

This was done, ]Mr. Forester looking daggers
and hatchets at me.

^' Being gone,^^ said I, " I am a man again: and
now permit me to tell you that though a really
intelligent, respectful, and respectable stud-groom
is a most valuable appendage to a stud of twenty
hunters, to keep one for five is quite out of the
question. J\Iake the groom who has charge of
your hacks, your head, but not stud groom :
this will save you a couple of hundred a year at
least, by ridding you of Mr. Forester^s expenses,
and will perhaps save twice as much by your
horses being in proper form w^hen you want them.
And now I will, as you desire, give my opinion of
the stud.

" The first horse I looked at, if he is not a
regular impostor as to looks, is one I should say
could go in any country : I consider him in shape
and make as perfect as any man can reasonably
expect to find a horse ; he is, I should say, the
very precise size a hunter for general hunting
should be. Fifteen three, yet short on his legs,

90 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

covering a great deal of ground, and standing
well on it : his very head looks a good horse, and
his great muscle must make him a strong one :
while his length of haunch to his hock, and fine
thighs, ought at least to make him a very fast one ;
his fore -legs are just such as every horse^s should
be, unless wanted for showy action; he has large
long arms, great bony knees, short in his cannon
bone, and the back sinew running straight and
free down the back of the leg : in short, to quote
a favourite phrase of Tom Smart's, ' I consider
him quit a nice un/ "

" I am happy,'^ said my friend, '^ you seem so
pleased with Jerry; but let me ask what you
meant by the formation of his legs being quite
such as you should select unless showy action was
wanted ? '^

" I will explain this,", said I. " Of course you
are quite aware that showy and good action bear
very little affinity to each other; fine action is a
term often used, but I do not consider even this
literally designates good action : it implies a bor-
dering more on show than use, safety, or speed, in
any pace. But to return to the formation of legs :
those of the manege horse, charger, or harness
horse, should of course be good, so far as to indi-
cate safety, and an absence of any thing likely to
produce cutting or breaking down ; but you will
rarely find the leg formed for speed one that occa-

SUSPECTING A FRIEND^S SELECTION. 91

sions^ or indeed admits of, very liigli, sliowy action ;
horses possessing such action will generally be
found to be somewhat small in the general size of
the knee, a little tied in under it, and very long in
the cannon bone. The shorter the fore-arm is the
higher the action will mostly be, and indeed will
always appear to be ; for when a limb thus formed
is lifted up, the knee is absolutely higher from the
ground than the one would be where the arm is
long, and the remainder of the leg short. I know
of no speedy animals that, take them as a genus,
have high grand action : nor do I know of any of
the speedy sort that are not short from the knee
down : this accounts for why I really would, as a
general rule, look for such formed legs in a horse
for show, as I should at once reject in the one
for hunting purposes or general use.

" But to return,^^ said I, "to your horse Jerry:
I suspect from his condition he has not been long-
under the care of your late stud-groom.^^

My friend allowed he had only purchased him
a week before I saw him, and had got him out of
a hunting stud sold at TattersalPs.

" Pray,^^ said I, " did you select this horse on
your own judgment ! for if so, pray accept my
compliments upon it."

" AVhy, no," said my friend, " I did not. I
happened to meet a friend at TattersalPs, who
was talking to Mr. , who hunts with the

92

THE HUNTING-FIELD.

Quorn liounds : lie was kind enough to look at
the stud on sale for me, and I bought this horse
on his selection."

"Then," said I, "you bought him on the
judgment of one who knows a nice horse as a
hunter as Avell as any man living, and, what is
more, can ride him as well.

" I am sorry that in going through your horses,
I must alter my tone a good deal, if I give
you a candid opinion. Now for the grey, that
comes next. This horse, I should say, might be
own brother to the one that I saw you on in the
summer; he has, however, better legs; but there is
more glare and gaudiness about him than bespeaks
a hunter ; he looks unfurnished vvithout a shell
bridle and holsters on him."

" I did buy him of an officer," said my friend.

" Well," said I, " under certain circumstances,
this is all very well. If, for instance, you bought
him of a young cornet, want of money for some
proposed spree, want of judgment, or having too
many, might occasion the horse being sold ; so
here you might be safe enough : but if you bought
him of a man who has been twenty years in the
army, and is a hunting man, the horse being now
six years old, depend on it, has seen hounds ; and
I should have some little misgivings as regards
the quarters you got him from. However, the
horse is voung, is in fair condition, and there is a

93

possibility of liis turning out a fair horse, though
any thing hke first rate T will promise him never
to he. It is true horses do, as they figuratively
say, ^go in all shapes,^ many -with very queer
shapes; but then they are, at the same time, going
ones : hut take this advice as a guide in purchas-
ing,— Never buy an untried horse that has not
strong indications of going in him, and even then
you must expect to be sometimes much disap-
pointed.

* So pass we on : I only mean
To show the reed on which you lean,
Trusting to go a clippmg day,
On nag like yonder gaudy grey ;
Who, if my judgment tells aright,
Will never keep the field in sight,
Unless within the covert's bound
The game is chopped by skirtiug hound.'

" Pray,^^ said I, " may I, by way of informa-
tion on a subject in which I own myself quite
astray, inquire for what earthly purpose the
brown next the grey is intended ? "

^' Kow, really,^^ said my friend, " you are too
bad. Why, that horse has run and won two or
three steeple-chases.^^

" And a very proper chase for him to run,"
said I, " if a legitimate one, for in that case the
steeple would wait for him ; but knowing a fox
would not, his owners, who I presume have been

94 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

many, probably never tried him in sucb pursuit.
If, however, he really has won more than once,
I can account for it. He was run in some selling
stake against some lot of valuable animals entered
at twenty pound. Win or lose, it was found
nobody would take him, so he was started again
in the hope of, as the throw at the prize-men say,
' better luck next time ; ' but finding it all in
vain, another dodge has been tried, and it seems
has succeeded. I should almost be tempted to
say,'^ added I, "that you were accommodated
with this lath and plaster steeple-chaser in the
neighbourhood of Oxford Street.^'

" You really are quite right,^^ said my friend ;
" I did get him in that neighbourhood : but how
did you surmise this ? ^'

" Merely at random," said I ; " but really
thinking as I do, that you have found one of the
veriest wretches I ever saw, I turned over in
my mind, where you could have got him, and
thinking of this locality, I said with Romeo, ' Here
lives a caitiff v/retch would sell it him.^ "

" I assure you," said my friend, " the person I
bought him of, to quote a term he used, said
' Bricklayer ^ was as good a horse as ever he
pulled out to sell."

^' Pray," said I, " did he add he was as good a
horse as ever was ' pulled in ' to lose, for if so you
have got a trump card."

CONCLUSIONS NOT CONCLUSIVE. 95

" No^ lie did not," replied my companion ;
" but what do you mean by ^ pulling in ? ^ "

" Oh," said 1, " it is only a little droll ma-
noeuvre sometimes resorted to in a race, or steeple-
chase. I added the 'in:' pulled is quite enough
among the initiated. The ' in/ as we used to say
at school, is 'understood.^ However," continued
I, " we shall see the nags out to-morrow ; it is
possible I may have formed a hasty judgment of
their qualifications."

" Now," said my friend, " how do you like the
next, the bay mare ; she is also a steeple-chaser^
and has won carrying eleven stone, small as she
is ; so as I only ride twelve, if she can carry
eleven in a steeple-chase, surely she can carry a
stone more merely hunting."

"You jump at conclusions, my dear fellow,"
said I, " as quickly as I am ready to believe the
little mare does her fences. I really think her a
very wiry good-looking little animal, and quite
give her credit for powers that her mere size does
not indicate ; but I allow I should not have
bought her for a hunter. Fifteen hands, if you
get a wonder, will go in some countries as well,
nay better, than sixteen ; but it should be a par-
ticular country, and the fences should not be very
formidable. But you must permit me to tell you
I consider yoa in error in supposing, because a
horse can carry a given weight in a steeple-chase^

96 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

that it follows lie can cany more witli liounds.
I am quite aware tliat in racing a little addition
of weight has far greater effect than it has in
hmiting ; but this arises from two causes : first,
horses are usually, more on a par with each
other (or are made so, if handicapped) in a
race than are a field of hunters ; so if horses
are or are made pretty equal in pretensions, any
additional weight then put on any of them must
tell ; a little more would make the thing certain.
The other reason why weight tells so awfully
in the race-horse is, that from the pace he is so
much more extended than the hunter that where
a few pounds would perhaps make no difference
to the latter, going so much more within himself,
each pound is sensibly felt by the race-horse, ex-
tended as he is to the utmost stretch his anatomy
is capable of.^^

'' Does not this seem in favour of my little
steeple-cluise mare carrying me as a hunter ? "
inquired lier owner.

^' Doubtless, to a certain degree it does ; but
pray observe, I did not say she would not carry
you, for where I see good shape and make, I
never attempt to give any dscided opinion as to
what weight of a reasonable kind such a horse
can carry, and I should still less attempt to do so
where I have not seen the style of the animaPs
going, on which so much of the capability of

RACING, STEEPLE-CHASIXG^ AND HUNTING. 97

carrying weight depends. I tliink I merely said
tliat I considered fifteen hands under the size I
should like for a hunter ; but to answer your
question. The hunter can with hounds carry a
far greater weight than the race-horse can run
under^ that is^ can race under ; for instance, we
call ten stone high weight in racing, but very
light as a hunting rider ; and though seven pounds
added to the ten stone would perhaps, in figura-
tive language, stop the race-horse as a racer and
among race-horses, he would very likely carry
thirteen, and beat the ordinary run of horses
we often see with hounds, though they only car-
ried the ten stone seven ; but what might prevent
the same horse doing anything under thirteen
stone or less with hounds, is this : the great speed
of a race-horse enables him to outpace other
horses, though he may be overweighted ; and his
blood enables him to make almost supernatural
exertions; but it must be borne in mind that his
exertions under any weight only last from two
to five minutes in ordinary cases, and not more
than nine or ten in any. The exertion of the
steeple-chase horse seldom exceeds fifteen, gene-
rally less; but we must also bear in mind the
hunter has to sustain his load for more hours by
far than the race-horse does minutes, and on an
average half as many hours as the steeple-chaser
is asked to carry his minutes; therefore, though
II

98 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

exertion tliat may be called beyond tlie strength
of the animal may last for a brief period^ and even
then excites our surprise and admiration^ he can-
not go on with it. You say your mare, small as
she is, has won under eleven stone ; but you must
know how she came in before you can at all de-
cide as to the effect weight has on her. We will
say a man accepts in a handicap at a given weight
for a certain distance ; he probably knows that his
horse can just last this distance, but at the same
time knows that under the specified weight all
the steel, whipcord, or any other cruelty could not
get the animal along another half-mile in a gallop.
If he can last the prescribed distance about as
well as the rest, and, from being severely punished,
can just win, his end is answered; the distress
of the horse, though he knows him to be as good
as gold, weighs little with the majority of the
owners of steeple-chase horses, unless the life of
the animal is in danger; nor is that considered
much if it happens with a horse of little value,
and the take up is a good one. Now-a-days we
see horses entered at twenty pounds ; so such a
horse need not expect much mercy : if he did he
would be deceived, for he would be cut into
mince-meat if it could make him win, and it
answered the interest of the owner that it should
be done : at least it is so with many owners of
such horses.

" ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS." 99

" You seCj therefore, my friend, that, good
as your mare may be, if she won going four miles
under eleven stone, and had then little or nothing
left in her, the chance of her carrying twelve with
hounds is not a flattering one ; for if you hunt in
a fast countr}^, you will frequently get a burst
very little inferior as to pace to a steeple-chase.
After the three or four miles of a steeple-chase,
distressed or not, the horse is clothed up and led
home. After a burst of the same distance with
hounds, his work is only, comparatively speaking,
begun : thus, though your mare, after going four
miles of country in a steeple-chase, most probably
(as a winner always does) called forth the plaudits
of the spectators, and was followed, praised, and
admired as a nonpareil, had you ridden her a
little over the same distance in a fast run, she
would most likely have shown herself to be in a
state that would cause her to be set down as not
worth a halfpenny. Of course, I do not mean to
say it necessarily follows that such would be the
case ; what I say is merely to guard you against
being deceived by the supposition, that a horse
that can win a steeple-chase must be a good
hunter. The chances are, I grant, in his favour
that he is a good horse; but it is, at the same
time, quite possible that after a certain distance,
Avhich is, in racing term, ' his length,^ he may be
one of the veriest curs and brutes living ; but we

H 2

100 THE HUNTING-riELD.

will pass no decided opinion on eitlier of your
nags till to-morrow.

^^ We have now only one left ; may I ask
where you got that black mountain of flesh in
the last stall ? "

^' AYhy/^ said my friend^ " is he not a fine
horse ? "

" He certainly is a fine large animal/^ replied
I ; " but until he is relieved of about a ton of
that superabundant flesh, one can form about as
correct a judgment of his anatomy as of that of a
flea in a feather bed : I fear he is too fat to be
good. Pray how long have yon had him ? "

" I bought him/^ said my friend, '^ last May
out of a stud."

" And we are now in September/^ said I, " so
this movable mass of blubber has been under
Mr. Forester^s care four months."

" It is quite true," said my friend ; " but, as yon
know, I have not been much here, so I left the
horses to him."

" And he left them to themselves," replied I,
" if one may judge of their condition, with the ex-
ception of the first bay, who, luckily for himself
and you, is a late purchase."

'^ I told Forester," replied my friend, " I
thought the black horse by far too gross ; but he
said he always liked to see horses ' with a good
bit on them ' before they began their training."

101

" A very training expression^ and a trainer's
usual opinion/' said I, " and quite correct^ parti-
cularly as regards two years' old; but I am not
aware that it is quite according to training rules
to leave a mass of soft flesli on colt, filly^ or horse^
to be got off in about a month, b}^ which time
your liorses ought to be quite fit to go. Why,
my friend, do what you will with that horse,
he will not be fit to go with hounds till after
Christmas : pray, was he as fat when you got
him?"

" Very nearly," said my friend.

" Then," said I, " depend on it he is good for
nothing, or a lame one; he has been tried and
found the one or the other, or both, so has been
suffered to be idle, and thus got in his j)resent
state of fat. It is quite true, that hunters sold
some weeks after the hunting season have usually
got fresh in themselves; and a dose of physic,
alteratives, carrots, mashes, warm water, stimu-
lants, bandages, and gentle exercise, judiciously
administered, brings their constitution and legs
into saleable form ; but why did you select a
horse that you must have judged had not been in
work of any sort ? "

" Why, to own the truth," said my friend, " I
saw a good many dealers about this horse in par-
ticular ; so I thought if he was cheap at the price
they offered, he could not be dear to me at a

H 3

102 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

trifle more ; and from his size^ and way of going,
I thought he would turn out a fine horse/^

^^ That he had heen turned out of the hunting-
stable," said I, " is quite clear ; and now I will
tell you why the dealers were (in dealers^ phrase)
' sweet upon him : ■* he is young, fresh on his
legs, you say goes well, and is a commanding
size ; this is enough for a London dealer. The
other horses were probably aged, and some stale
horses, yet went no doubt at prices that, under
such circumstances, would not suit dealers unless
they bought by commission. Now, what did you
give for him ? ■"

'^ Seventy-six guineas," replied my friend.

" And, doubtless," said I, '^ many or some of
the others, perhaps blemished, fetched the same
sum, and a hundred added to it. Judging, from
your not contradicting this, that it was so, how
could you expect that a fine unblemished six
years' old horse, with good action, would have
been let go at less than half the money if he had
been found good for anything as a hunter, or
even promising to become so ? ''

" Why, I thought "

'' Pardon me," said I, interrupting him, " you
did not think, — an omission that often lets people
in for very unlikely nags ; however, at the price,
the black can do you very little harm, except the
oats he has consumed ; and if his condition shows

THE SORT TO RIDE. 103

you the necessity of investigating tlie qualifi-
cations of your grooms in future, he will have
done you a great deal of good, and, depend on it,
the only good he is likely to do you ; so," said I,
extending my hand, " good night/^

Breakfast over the next morning, we " paraded "
the stud, and, at my friend^s request, I accepted
the temporary honour of being rough rider to the
establishment.

Fii'st came the bay, looking just as a horse
should look ; cheerful, cool, and collected ; his
firm step, fine shaped head, large intelligent eye,
and well-defined muscular form, all indicating
being able and Avilling to do " all that may be-
come a horse.^^ I mounted. There is something
in the feel of some horses that at once tells a man
they are such as he could ride in comfort on ;
that is, feel at home upon, or not. Half a dozen
steps satisfied me I was on such a nag as it is a
treat to ride. His gallop was what a hunter^s
should be, light, quick, and determined : his fine
gaskins and strong loins brought his hind legs
under him with a sweep that showed it was for-
tunate for his fore ones that he put them well
forwards. I put him at a flight of hurdles ; these
he went at coolly enough to show^ he held them
as a trifling affair, yet free enough to show he
meant neither swerve nor baulk, and took them
like a greyhound when not excited. The next

H 4

104 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

fence was a widisli but not deep ditch, a fair safe
bank, and an evidently rotten dead bedge on its
top. Jerry gave a light spring to its crown,
making the old hedge crack again, and coolly,
with a second jump, landed in the next field. I
wanted no further proof that Jerry knew his busi-
ness ; he came over back just as scientihcally.

" Well,^^ said my friend, on my coming up to
him, "now for a sentence on Jerry .^^

" If," said I, " you find him a game horse,
which I do not at all doubt he is, never part with
him. I am quite sure he can go in any country,
and there is not one in a hundred that can go as
he can, even if you picked one for them ; depend
"upon it, ^ he knows all about it : ^ and now for
' Gaudy.^ "

" Lancer, if you please," said my friend,
laughing.

'' Lancet would be a more appropriate name, I
think," said I, " for I suspect it is a little article
quite likely to be wanted if you succeed in
getting him through a burst."

" Well," said I, on seeing the grey, " he
certainly is a very fine horse ; it is just possible
he may be a hunter, or to be made so; but I
never saw one like him a good one. He has no
determinate going points, and no indication of
wear and tear properties about him; but nous

NO GO. 105

The grey Tras pleasant^ and a grand liorse to
sit upon^ a fine mouth, and his walk capital ; but
the moment I put him in a trot the up-knee
action made me say, " Oh my prophetic soul ! if
you gallop like a hunter 1^11 eat you ;'^ so it
"was : his gallop was just what it should be at a
review, but anything but what it should be at " a
fixture." " Now," said I, " hunter or not, a hurdle
is, as Sterne says, ' No great matter/ " Jerry
had not topped it a bit better than did the grey.
" Come," says I, " you are at home at this game
at least; now for a bit of fencing." I put at
the afore-mentioned fence, leisurely I allow, ex-
pecting him to take it '' without hurry or care : "
it was, however, " no go ; " he came round on a
pivot. '^ Humph ! you want a little more powder
for a point-blank shot, I suppose," thought I. I
gave him a rattler up to it next time : he obliqued
to the right and to the left, but a taste of the ash
above the bit kept him straight till, coming to
the ditch, he bolted into it and ran along its
bottom. " I have had enough of you," said I ;
" if you belonged to me I should teach you
better manners, ^ at I have had too many falls
to seek one for your instruction." He took the
hurdle beautifully as before, going back. So
much for school practice only.

" Well," said my friend, " what account of the
grey ? "

106 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

" Oli/^ said I^ " a beggarly account of unjumpt
fences^ or a fence ratlier^ for I tried but one^ and
tliat did not suit liis taste ; so we have toddled
gently back, perfect good friends, to pay our
respects to you."

" So/' said my friend, laughing, " you allow
the schoolmaster was beat ? "

" I allow much more ; I own him to have
cowardly given in without in any urgent way
making battle : but," said I, " recollect I had ' no
spur to prick the side of my intent ' (or rather
horse) in the first place ; in the second, I have
seen too much to let ^vaulting ambition' have
much weight with me ; but bet me a few dozen
of your capital old port on the event, and the
grey and I will enter the lists against each other,

and then ' D be he who first cries Hold,

enough.' Your grey," continued I, " is, em-
blematically speaking, one of those ^ few fine
young men ' v/e see advertised for, and then see
as recruits, — a fine fellow, but wants a deuced
deal of drilling, and this is not ' in my vocation,
Hal.' At all events, he is worth a trial, and if, as
I suspect," he never makes a hunter, turn him
over to the phaeton : he will, happy fellow ! be
sure to find favour in the ladies' eyes, and if any
portion of that is transferred to you, his worth
will be beyond that of an entire stud more suited
to my humbler pursuits and deserts."

A USEFUL ARTICLE. 107

Now for tlie steeple- chaser : " Certainly/^ said
I, on seeing liim^ " thou art not a ' vision of
health/ and certainly look uncommonly like what
I should conceive to be a ^ goblin ' (something) ;
my yesterday^s glance at your bargain did not
influence me much in his favour^ but, positively,,
now seeing him out, I never beheld a greater
wretch in my life. He is like one of the Flats
in a theatre, with about as much substance, the
difference being, they represent something worth
looking at, which he certainly does not : as to
any racing properties, we will not disgrace the
turf by thinking of them. He is too tall for a
hack, no substance for a hunter, no action or
hocks for a charger, or harness ; is too weak for a
cart, and is the wrong colour for a hearse ; however,
as I suppose he has carried somebody, he will me.^'

Mounted, I found him just what such over-
topped horses often are, like a hurdle between
one^s legs, and affording about as steady a seat to
the bestrider. I should guess the dimensions of
the famed Bricklayer to have been about five feet
six high, by thirteen inches wide. His mouth
seemed good, but having got him into a gallop,
and bringing him in front of the hurdles, he
rushed at them, setting hands, arms, and bridle
at defiance. His stride was tremendous, and in
taking the hurdles he Avould have cleared an or-
dinary river. " Better than baulkiiig,^^ thinks I,

108 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

" at any rate." I steadied liim as well as liis moutli
would allow in going to tlie fence^ but on nearing
it lie gave another of liis mad rushes^ and I made
up my mind for a purl. Stopping liim was out of
tlie question; he took off many feet before lie
came to it, took it all in bis swing, but bit tlie
bank, or liedge, or something so hard with his
hind legs, that he all but came on his head on the
other side. I stopped him, and turning towards
home, I walked the gentleman up to a gate, dis-
mounted^ and ingloriously led him through, ditto
the hurdles, and coming up to my friend I de-
livered the Bricklayer into his hands, observing
that finding him so valuable an animal, I wished
to ease myself of the great responsibility of the
charge.

My friend, who had at a distance seen what
had been going on, laughed most mischievously,
saying, " He seems a little wild, does he not, in
leaping ? "

" It is a great pity,'^ said I, " that he was not
altogether so wild as never to have been tamed.
"Whether he may be good as a steeple-chaser or
not, it is impossible for me to say, though I cer-
tainly do venture to say he could last but for a
very short distance unless he wonderfully altered
his manners after going a bit ; however, allow me
to remind you, that when men ride such brutes
in a steeple-chase, they are well paid for it, and

RIDING FOR PAY OR PLEASURE. 109

"VYell they earn tlieir money ; but Avhen gentlemen
ride hunting they pay, but are not paid for it ; so
they expect to be carried pleasantly, and at least
moderately safely. Pray, have you ever mounted
your crack ? ^' My friend allowed he never had.

" Thcn/^ said I, " yon have a great treat in
store. I wish you a pleasant ride and many of
them ; let me, however, tell you, if you attempt
to ride the brute with hounds, he will break your
neck. Such ungovernable rushing horses will
sometimes go for a time without a fall, but their
great fault is that, not having temper to learn to
husband their powers by taking their fences ju-
diciously and coolly, when at all exhausted, so as
not to be able to clear them in their usual way,
they come down headlong, and not unfrequently
' cur it,^ and do not attempt to rise at anything.
I know of few cases in which a man would
probably deceive himself more in getting togethei'
a stud than by attempting to select them from
steeple-chase horses. The best attributes of the
best of them, which is racing finishing power at
the ending post, while it raises them to a mon-
strous price for steeple-chasing purposes, would
be but a secondary qualification in a hunter. ^^

The little steeple-chasing mare next came out,
and a nice little animal she was, and had all the
look of a good one, but at the same time had that
frightened appearance about her that we often sec

110 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

in race-liorses that liave been overmarked and
overmatched in their racing career. She was
stale on her legs, and, like the last, looked stale in
condition. On my inquiring the cause^ I found
that the ci-devant stud-groom, guessing that both
these horses had been highly fed and strongly
worked, had allowed them to remain idle since
he had the care of them, thinking by such means
to get them fresh, and had been giving beans in
addition to oats as a means of getting them more
in flesh : the consequence was, as it would ever
be in such cases, their skin stuck to them as dry
and tight as the covering of a trunk, and had no
more gloss on it than a horsehair nose-bag.

On mounting, a few steps showed the failing.
She went so awfully unsafe that it would be a
service of danger to ride her to meet hounds, and
a forlorn hope to ride her home again.

She galloped and fenced beautifully, but leaning
on the hand for support, showed she had been ac-
customed to this from having carried weight quite
beyond what her appearance and size seemed cal-
culated for; still it was easy to feel her powers
were extraordinary, thus corroborating an opinion
I ever maintained, that, figuratively speaking, we
never know what a horse can or cannot carry
" till ive try,'" — still she was no hunter.

The black I soon disposed of, or, rather, he
disposed of himself. He possessed immense

THE GOLDEN FLEECE. Ill

power^ rode pleasantly^ and^ so far as liis load of
flesh would admits went well. To carry such
men as Mr. Conyers, or even John Ward^ riding
to see their hounds hunt, and not other persons^
horses go, he might have done. I must not
allow my friend to be laughed at for buying such
a huge mass of obesity ; I have seen persons who
could not plead his total inexperience in hunters,
commit as great errors.

" Finis coronat opus/^ we have read ; but
" Equus coronat opus " is a new reading, though
appropriate in allusion. I put my fat friend into
a gallop, and at the hurdles over he went, trying
their strength with his hind legs, meaning perhaps
to act upon this in case he came back, to save
unnecessary exertion. Guessing at my customer's
propensity, I roused him as far as I could before
nearing the fence, and giving him a lift, he got
his fore parts well up and half over ; but, instead
of bringing his hind ones up also to good footing,
they slid back, and there he hung on the crov/n
of the bank, like the golden fleece. I got off";
and I suppose he found the thorns a little un-
pleasant as a stomach comforter, for he rolled
about like a ship in a short sea, and succeeded in
sliding back into the ditch. My friend and his
servant coming up, we got him out and sent him
in.

" Pray/' said I, " am I to understand that you

112 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

really bought tliese horses without riding them,
and have not ridden them since ? "

"Why/^ said my friend, '^the bay horse I
bought at TattersalFs ; I had no opportunity of
riding, but have done so since I came down : the
grey I rode when in London : and the black I
rode an airing two days ago, and liked him very
well. The other two T have not rode, as Forester
said he wished them to rest.^'

'- The chances are,^^ said I, ^' they would have
gone to their long rest from inflammation and
fever if he had stayed with you much longer.
Why," said I, " if the man had known anything
he must have been aware that horses not long
out of severe training, as these were when he
took to them, must have been accustomed to high
feed, strong work, and plenty of air; shutting
them up in a hot stable, giving them little or no
exercise, no air, and stuffing them with beans,
would not make them throw up muscle or even
flesh : sound flesh must be the result of sound
health. To keep horses treated as these have
been in good health, a couple of gentle doses
of physic were wanting, cooling alteratives to
loosen and moisten their skins, mashes, carrots,
plenty of fresh air, and gentle exercise. I strongly
suspect your late ^ governor;^ for he was go-
vernor, though no doubt he called you so, — so
irrcat a "entleman could not own to havin"^ a

PUSSY JUMPS OUT. 113

master, thougli I hold liim to be but a Tea-kettle
groom, or his chief source of knowledge has been
the livery-yards of London. May I ask/^ said
I, " Avas ]Mr. Forester in town when you got
accommodated with the celebrated Bricklayer ? '^

" Come/^ said my friend, ^^ I may as well out
with the truth at once ; I bought the horse and
mare by his advice. ^^

" And I opine/' said I, '' they belonged to
the identical party who also accommodated you
with Mr. Forester.''

" Well, then, they did ; so now you have all
the secret.-"

" A precious lot you got amongst," said I ;
" and this, as you are a very young man, induces
me to give you my opinion of steeple-racinp-."

" It would ill become me to promulgate stric-
tures on a business (for that is the proper word)
that has become so popular as steeple-racing.
Properly arranged, I consider it might be made
into a national sport of an advantageous character,
as causing extensive circulation of money, en-
couraging a breed of good horses, and affording a
most exhilarating amusement to thousands, and
to be carried out without any exhibition of suf-
fering in animals or inhumanity in man, save in
the estimation of the over-fastidious, or of such
as have no sporting propensities about them.

" If we are to encourage steeple-chasing as a
I

114 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

sport likely to keep up a superior breed of liorses,
let us adhere to principles and regulations that
will do so, and I am quite sure letting in a lot of
weedy thorough-breds^ at very light weights^ will
not effect the purpose. Let all great stakes he at
fair hunting weight ; but of what earthly use is a
spindling animal that can only carry nine stone
with great exertion for twelve or fourteen minutes ?
Yet such are now let in with racing weight on
them, that at eleven stone seven or twelve stone
would have no more chance with such horses as
Clinker, Vivian, Paulina, the Nun, Old Cigar,
Grimaldi, Moonraker, and others, than if they
ran the ^ ditch in ' against the Flying Dutcliman.
But to return to your stud.

^' It seems that, with all your purchases in-
tended for hunters, making (inluding the Windsor
Park horse) six, you really have but one that you
can with confidence rely upon as a hunter to carry
you : as for the rest, —

"You little thought, when first you drew
A check on Earquharson and Co.,
That Lancer Captain ere should boast
' A sell ' at your especial cost :
' Woe worth the time, woe worth the day,'
You lost upon your gaudy grey.
Nor shone your star of luck more bright
When erst you gave a draft at sight
For yonder hasty long-legged brown,
ISTo doubt on whom from ' Eolleston'

115

You thought in foremost flight to lead,
Eelying on liis vaunted speed ;
But when the Whissendine's in view,
You'll find there's something more to do ;
And double rails, with fence between,
Eequu'e some practice too, I ween ;
While Leicester's fields, though mostly turf,
Soon make the soft ones cry * enough.'
'Nov was your fortune at its flood,
When, tempted by the Memnon blood,
Because the mare contrived to grace
Her brows with laurels in a race,
You bought the Liliputian crack,
To go with twelve stone on her back ;
Forgetting weight that may not hurt
For foiu'teen minutes in a spurt.
Will feel more_weiglity than at first,
Towards the end of lengthened burst ;
For then the spreading fence will ' tell '
That nags when fresh could compass well,
And all the various ills arise
From riding horses under size.
Now, hail thou knight of sable hue !
For, if I hear thy master true.
Sir Hildebrand's the goodly name
Thy deeds will either grace or shame ;
But if, when in the trysting-field.
To others you the palm must yield,
Thus much I gage for thee. Sir Knight,
You ne'er will be the first in flight ;
But if you should, I hold thy speed
Of small account in hour of need ;
I 2

116 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

And if on sylvan war intent.
Instead of joust, at tournament,
Beshrew me, but I hold the test
Will level soon thy rising crest."

" Who calls that doggrel ? '' said I, flourishing
my stick Paddy-fashion. '' By this and that, show
me the man who does."

" If you won't endanger my nose," said my
friend, laughing, " with that stick of yours, I'll
swear there's no comparison between Sir Walter
Scott and you."

'' By the piper that played before Moses," said
I, " the shades of his ancestors would rise and
break your nose if you did."

'^ But," said my friend, " this may be very
good fun for you, but what had I best do to get
out of "

" The outsiders you mean, I suppose," inter-
rupted I.

^' No," replied my friend ; " unfortunately they
are insiders at present."

" Well, then," said I, " I leave you to-morrow ;
send them up with me by the train."

" Agreed," said my friend. " But what will you
do with them ? I cannot think of encumbering you
with three horses unless I send a servant also."

" Never mind," said I, " they'll get up safe
enough, and I Avill get them out safe enough : they

SOMETHING LIKE COMFORT. 117

will tlieii he/' said 1, laugliing, '' ex-^train'cous
subjects; so you sliall not be annoyed by tliem
again/^

" Oh_, oil ! " cried my friend, holding up his
hands " puns are always bad enough, but such a
pun "

" Has/^ interrupted I, " nothing pun-gent in
it, but ''

" Will you try if a deviPd bone has ? ^^ said my
host, seeing the tray brought in.

" Bond fide, I will," replied I.

After cooling the effects of the devil on our
palate with some blanc-mange, a bit of stilton in
first-rate condition just rendered it in proper cue
to appreciate the moists of some bottled Scotch
ale. The appurtenances of supper disappearing,
as in such cases they alwaj^s should, in accordance
with good taste, quickly, cigars were placed before
us j Fribourg^s old stagers, with a '' bunch of ma-
terials" fitted for the moment; the hour the
modest one of ten. If my ideas are not quite
incorrect, I hold such practice and such hours,
in the country, as coming near the point of
rationality.

" Pray," said my friend, " and I am sure you
know I only ask as a guidance for my own mea-
sures on any future occasion, may I ask wliat
course you mean to adopt to get rid of my un-

1 3

118 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

lucky purchases : do you mean to try to make
take back tlie two I got of him ? ''

" I am glad you asked me that particular ques-
tion/^ said I, " as it will cause me to give you
some bits of my experience, that I feel sure will
be of use to you."

There are certain facts and principles of the
truth of which it is very easy to convince people ;
yet in accordance with w hich, thongh convinced,
they cannot bring themselves to act. One of
these is your case, my friend, and nineteen men in
twenty, in lien of acting as yon propose doing, at
once getting rid of that w^liich does not snit them,
shrink from making that which appears a sacrifice,
and by so doing make a real one to tvvice the
amount, by acting on a mistaken idea of avoiding
any : it matters not wdiat the subject may be,
w^hether a horse or a chest of drawers; and to
make the thing clear to all sorts of persons, I
will instance the chest of drawers for my present
purpose.

An old person has, we will say, such an article,
but wishes for a set of another form ; these said
drawers w^e will suppose to have been purchased
forty years ago : every one knows that furniture
of the same class is now to be got for about half
the price it was charged in 1810 ; the drawers
then cost (say) 20/., the same are made now for
10/. j for that price the person can get a pair of

THE RATE OF EXCHANGE. 119

the form wished for : but tlien comes the bugbear
of the fancied loss to be sustained in the disposal
of the original piece of furniture^ — only 9/. can be
got for it. " Here/^ cries the owner^ '^ is 1 1/. loss."
By a little reasonings however, we convince him
that he is quite in error : he gets an article he
wishes to have and gets rid of one he does not like,
for the mere sacrifice of one pound ; the one being
as good as the other, though different in form.
The owner wisely resolves at the moment to do
this, but I would bet long odds that call a month
afterwards, there would stand the identical drawers;
the recollection of the original price paid would
have returned, and thus, sinning against convic-
tion itself, the owner goes on daily grumbling,
yet still adhering to his blind policy.

It is just the same in every case and Avitli every-
thing we j)urchase ; if we give fifty per cent, more
than it is worth, its value is just fifty per cent,
less than w^e gave : so in selling it ^'c do not make
a sacrifice of that sum on the article, but pay thus
much for our Avant of knowledge and prudence.

But to come to horses. It matters not whether
the depreciation in their price arises from age,
accident, their having turned out badly, or our
having given far above their original ^vorth ; their
value is what, if sold under the most favourable
circumstances, is to be got for them. Conse-

r 4:

120 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

qucntly, the selling out at such price^ though it
may be loss^ is not sacrifice.

This brings me to the particular point where
so many persons^ really fair judges of horses too,
so daily err : they go to a dealer, of whom, in a
certain sense, it may be said, as I have heard
said of a very fashionable one, " He will not
open his mouth under 200/. at least." The buyer
is asked prices varying from 150/. to 200/., till,
having taken one at 140/., he begins to think that
the minimum price of a horse of any promise.
He does not, for some reason, like his purchase ;
ishows him to a friend, who, if conversant in such
matters, most probably tells him he considers his
purchase worth one half the price given, and very
probably is able to say, " I can show you tw^o or
three at that price better horses, and that would
suit you better." Now, suppose the purchaser sold
his horse at 70/., and took the other at the same
price ; he would fancy he had made a sacrifice of
70/., whereas in point of fact he made no sacrifice
at all ; he got the value of his horse, though not

Mr. 's price. Most likely, instead of this,

he returns to the original seller, gives 30/. or 40/.
to boot, and gets another horse that perhaps he
does not like, or likes better. " Well," he says,
" this is better than sacrificing 70/. by selling my
first horse ; if I have given more money, I have
got a horse worth more." These ifs are very de-

CALLING THINGS BY THEIR RIGHT NAMES. 121

ceptive, the cliances are lie lias not got a better
horse, and if he has, he has only increased his
actual eventual loss ; for, though he gave 40/. more,
he may hold himself lucky if the horse is 20/.
better than the last, so he only expended a larger
sum on equally disadvantageous terms.

Men going on in tbis way deceive themselves
in another particular ; they fancy they are always
riding on hundred and fifty hunters, when in
reality they are riding horses that would be held
by good judges, and men who really ride fine
horses, as only fit to carry servants. Possibly,
after a time, they may find this to be the case :
they change on and on till after from first to last
they have by dribblets paid about 500/. for each
nag they possess, possibly, but not probably, they
do at last get a nice horse worth a third of the
:500/. It is the worst and the most unsatisfactory
way in which a man can go on in getting hunters,
or indeed any description of animal of the horse
kind.

" Now,^^ continued I, " to go to the person you
bought your two horses of would be a weiy young
proceeding indeed. In the first place, what could I
say? You took two horses of him quite unfit for
your purpose ; the error lay with you. I have no
reason to doubt their being, as represented, very
fair steeple-chasers among their own class of
horses; no doubt he would take them in exchange :

122 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

but if lie clicl^ if lie lias anytliing good in liis hands,
lie would want twice its worth ; so^ as I liave
shown you any exchange wdtli the same person
would only make bad w^orse, a proper advertise-
ment, and TattersalFs, is the only mode of getting
off such nags : they will be known by their names,
and their true value as well known, that they
will bring and no more/^

123

CHAP. lY.

Hints on purchasing Hunters. — Hunters best adapted for
Yorkshire ; — for Leicestershire ; — for Bedfordshire ; — for the
Country round London ; — for open Countries. — QuaHties of
a Hunting-Eider.

After selling the tliree horses, I sent my friend
their produce, and Avith it the following hints on

PURCHASING HUNTERS.

The primary subject to be considered is, the
state of the purse of the purchaser ; the second,
tlie country he intends principally to hunt in ; and,
thirdly, the kind of rider he is, both as regards
his proficicDcy and predilections. If money is no
object, a thoroughly made horse is the best for
him to buy, — one proved not only to be good,
and to know his business, but to do it in a style
that it should be done by a gentleman's horse.
To attempt to name even the probable price of
such a horse woukl only mislead, as it woukl all
depend upon the circumstances of where, and of
whom, he was purchased. If a man purchases
from a gentleman, who is so in the comprehensive

124 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

sense of tiie word^ that is, embracing all tlie fine
qualities that constitute the character, he has
the certainty on his side of not being willingly
deceived by the seller. He may, however, be
inadvertently most woefully deceived in his pur-
chase, both on the score of goodness and pleasan-
try in the animal ; for neither are definite terms,
both depending on what a particular person calls
good or pleasant. In such a case, therefore, a
purchaser should ascertain how far his own ideas
and those of the seller correspond : if they do,
the purchase will, as far as human foresight goes,
be sure to turn out a satisfactory one, so far as
qualifications and sufficient soundness go. In
point of price, however, a young purchaser may,
though buying under all these advantages, be
most comfortably victimised: not willingly, on
the part of the seller, but from his determination
not to sell his horse under a particular price.
This may arise from a very defensible resolve,
that a strong price shall alone induce him to part
from that which affords him gratification, or from
really conceiving the animal to be quite worth
the price he demands, in either of which circum-
stances the purchaser will, in most cases, find he
has paid a somewhat strong price for his horse :
if he gets what he wishes, the gratification of our
washes seldom being to be had at their just value,
he has no great cause to complain.

PAYING FOR THE WHISTLE. 125

A man sitaated as I have supposed one, luckily
for liim, to be, namely, having no occasion to
baulk his wished from a regard to price, may
make himself moderately secure in getting a truly
valuable hunter out of a stud on sale at Tatter-
salPs. But he must bear in mind that in pur-
chasing there, unless he personally knows the
horses, or some one who does, he most positivelv,
in the full sense of the term, buys a " pig in a
poke : " his only plan, if he intends purchasing
there, is to find some one in whose judgment and
integrity he can rely, who has seen all the stud in
their work during the season, and if he knows the
kind of horse that -s^dll suit the purchaser he will
point him out; and, probably, what is wanted
will be got. But here the price must not be an
object; for, if the horse is a desirable one, there
will be sure to be plenty of men mth long purses
who can afford to treat themselves to that for
which they have a fancy, not at the price they
consider the horse to be worth as a marketable
commodity, but at a price they choose to give
rather than lose that they wish for : the same
horse, if not liked by the purchaser, though
bought at four hundi^ed, if sent back and resold
a month afterwards, would very probably not
realise half the money : the absolute value of a
himter can, therefore, never be ascertained.

We will now look at the affair in a different

126 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

point of view, and Tiill call in tlie aid of tlie im-
mortal Dick Christian to help us. He once came

from Leicestershire commissioned by Lord

to buy a horse I had : he was by Thunderbolt
out of Delta, by Delpini, — well-bred enough ;
in short, he had been named for a Derby. While
with me, he had been used as a stud-horse, so I
hinted I feared his lordship would find him some-
what noisy among a crowd of horses : " Oh,^^ said
Dick, " my lord loves a bit of music.^' I sold him
the horse, and, I regret to say, I afterwards
learned that, though the best-tempered animal in
creation, simply because he knuckered more than
his lordship liked when among horses, he made
the poor animal undergo an operation to prevent
it, though then thirteen years old. I would not
have sold him, at any price, had I anticipated such
a result.

Now, I should say. Christian was just the kind
of man to help a gentleman to a hunter : no man
could hunt in Leicestershire without being known
by him, and the particular sort of horse suited to
every man hunting there. He always knew the
real value of every horse known there, — first,
second, or third class; and supposing a hunter
not to suit Leicestershire, Christian could always
help a man to a hunter for other countries : buy-
ing by his recommendation, no one would be de-

CHRISTIANS BUT NOT SAINTS. 127

ceived by ignorance, or, in justice let it be said,
by roguery either.

It is true that Dick Christians, all faults, virtues,
and peculiarities considered, are only met with
perhaps two or three times in a century, still
there are men of a similar cast who are, I should
say, the very best and safest to apply to for a
hunter : they really know what is fit for a man,
and it is not all who know wdiat is fit for them-
selves. To such men, as the best of all modes,
I recommend men young in the field to apply to
make up their stud, large or small.

But supposing a buyer determined to purchase
for himself (though strongly recommending him
not to do so unless he has experience in such
matters), I will give him such hints as I trust
may be useful to him.

After expenditure, the next point for consider-
ation is country, involving, as it does, the sort
of horse that ought to- be pmxhased as the best
adapted to go over it.

Ha\ang at times hunted with more than a
dozen different packs of fox-hounds, I have of
course seen a variety of countries, each, in some
respects, differing from the other, but not all so
much so as to require a different description of
hunter to get over them. I will therefore only
instance four; these being perfectly distinct in

]28 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

their features, and each requiring quite a distinct
kind of horse to suit them.

We will first go the farthest a-field, and will
mention Yorkshire, that is, the Holderness part
of it.

This country requires horses as near thorough-
bred as they can be got. Why they should be
so is this: it is chiefly a ploughed country, not
hilly, but particularly heavy; and as the scent
generally is good, though hounds may not fly
over it as they do over the grass land of Leices-
tershire, the goodness of the scent renders the
pace very fast ; and in such a country, so awfully
severe on horses, low bred ones cannot live over
it; the fences, though not intricate, or varying
much in nature, are regular yawners. Of the
ditches it may fairly be said that they, as some
road-side houses profess to do, afford ample ^^ac-
commodation for man and horse.^^ Horses, there-
fore, as well as men, require determined courage
to face them : with these exhausters, and such a
country, nothing but blood can cope. But what
constitutes the difficulty of getting horses fit to
go there is, blood alone v/ill not do, nor will
strength without blood ; in short, if I was asked
the precise sort of horses to be looked for, I
should say, a very large powerful race-horse who
might not have speed enough for the turf.

Comins; nearer home we will take Leicester-

FEATURES OF COUNTRIES. 129

sliii'e : liere tlie same sort of liorse would do well
also; but we could, in a general way, improve
him, by taking a slice off the sheer strength, and
adding it to the speed; for though at times parts
of this country ride very heavy, it is by no means
as universally so as the Holderness. Hounds can
get over turf in any state faster than ploughed
land ; so the pace is faster here, though not more
severe perhaps on the horse than the other. All
men will allow the Leicestershire fences are bia-
enough to please any one, and, if they would allow
the truth, too big to please the generality of per-
sons ; but here, though more varied, they are not,
one and all and every one, a regular tilter, and
horses want very often the " in and out clever "
way of doing the thing, particularly when a little
blown : in fact, the Leicestershire hunter should
be a race-horse that can ^'^jump a bit; '^ though,
of course, he need not be anything like a first-
rater as a race-horse.

We will now look at Bedfordshire. Here we
only want a fair proportion of blood and moderate
speed; but in fencing, a horse should, in slang
phrase, be up to every dodge in this craft ; in
short, always have " a leg to spare,^^ for he will
meet with all sorts of obstacles in the shape of
fences : he may " fly a fence ^^ into a field, and
must then, perhaps, creep through or over one to
get out ; in fact, no country makes horses more

K

130 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

handy than Bedfordshire. The hounds are fast
enough^ but where they are constantly impeded by
fences, the same sort of streaming goer is not
wanted for a hunter as in countries with large en-
closures, and often all but racing ground. But if
a man wants a perfect made hunter, let him get
one esteemed as such with the Oakley, and he
may rest assured he will get a very clever animal.
We now come close to London, and will speak
of Surrey, taking the country formerly hunted
by Colonel JollifFe. Here, and I mean it in no
disrespect to any pack who hunt it, or field who
patronise it, for I have had many most delightful
days in it — I should never think of riding any-
thing beyond a fifty pound hack; he will carry
you just as well from a meet at Chipstead as
would Osbaldiston^s never- to-be-forgot Clasher.
High breeding is not required, for foxes, at least
I found it so, usually run short ; you get a plea-
sant burst, have then time to collect yourself and
your horse ; you then get another spin ; and, for
those who do not ride expressly for fame, a very
pleasant hunt was JoUiffe^s, not a whit less plea-
sant from having so courteous, gentlemanly, and
pleasant a master as Colonel Jolliflfe was. The
only reason v>hy I say a fifty pound hack Avill
carry a man is this, the surface rides light and
dry, and there is not, figuratively speaking, a
fence in the country a good Gallo^vay could not

A LOCALITY FOR HIGH BREEDING. 131

clear_, at least I never found one that siicli an ani-
mal could not ; the chief thing wanted is strength
on short legs, sound ones, with good feet under
them, good strong hind-quarters and loins to get
up and down hill, which a horse possessing them
will soon learn to do. In fact, here a neat com-
pact horse is wanted; of course the better bred
the better he will be, if possessing the qualities
mentioned.

I find, though I intended only to mention four
particular countries, to work out my subject I
must introduce a fifth, namely, the Brighton, or
any other open down country.

For such, very highly bred, indeed quite thorough
bred, horses are wanted ; but here blood does not
call for large expenditure in the purchase, for we
can dispense with power, at least to a great extent
we may do so, for here the extraordinary capabilities
in blood in carrying weight shine resplendently ; a
horse thorough bred, looking like a ten stone nag,
will carry twelve with ease to himself. He is on
racing ground : true, there are hills, and porten-
tous ones, and a thin weak-loined weed would not
do ; in fact, where would he ? but a neat, sym-
metrically formed, little true bit of blood will
show his quality and hidden powers in a most ex-
traordinary way. The truth is, pace that tells on
the low bred, tells nothing with him but the

132 THE HUNTlNG-riELD.

family lie springs from; and let those deny it
who will, when put to the test, breed will show
itself in man or beast.

Thus much I wrote and sent to my young
friend as some guide to him in his selection for
his small stud. How far my description of a
hunter for a particular country may be correct or
not, it is not my province to decide upon; my
readers can consult better opinions than I have
given, and then use any of mine or not as they
may think proper.

But I did more for my friend than giving him
ad\ice ; for declining, as I always do if I can, to
purchase for others, I put him in the hands of a
friend of mine, who has not the same objection I
have to this sort of commission ; and it would be
agreed on by all who kncAV him once, when I
give my belief, that the condDined forces of Great
Britain could not induce him to be guilty of a
deception or a falsehood. My young friend had
tried buying for himself, had smarted for it, as
many others have done ; but having done so, he
had the good sense, that very few possess, not
to try it again : so he gave the friend I mentioned
to him carte blanche to give what he liked, and
buy what he liked ; the result of his doing so will
be seen in its place.

"We have now arrived at the third circum-
stance, or rather circumstances, to be kept m

SUIT THE ACTION TO THE MAN. 133

mind iu purchasing hunters^ namely, tlie qualities
of tlie man who is to ride them.

If we put a thoroughly well-made amenable
hunter, witli a fine temper and fine mouth, into
the possession of a mere dare-devil, unscientific
horseman, with bad hands and not the best of
tempers, we really do injustice to by far the most
to be admired beast. If we give a resolute de-
termined horse, though a good hunter, to a man
mild in manner and habits, we do a most unkind
act to probably a most kind man. Again, giving
a horse who does not perfectly know his business
to a man who cannot teach it him, risks the limbs,
or perhaps life, of a valuable member of society ;
and, on the other hand, giving a very large price
for a horse because he is easy to ride and is per-
fectly made, for the use of a man who has health,
strength, nerve, and knowledge to make a fine
horse into a hunter, is lavishing money for no
necessary purpose. If, however, a man with such
qualities has large means, but will take no trouble
on his hands, by all means indulge him in his
idleness or aftectation, or both ; give five hundred
for a made hunter for him, and somebody will
benefit by the transaction.

There is, however, a description of rider that
the unthinking, uneducated, and illiberal wdll at
once ridicule, and indulge themselves in a coarse
laugh at his expense ; this is the timid or nervous

K 3

13-i THE HUNTING-FIELD.

one. I grant that^ in a general way^ I sliould say
sucli a man is better at liorae^ or in a pony
phaeton, than with fox-hounds ; yet what should
we say if we found, what very possibly might be
the case_, that he really loved hunting better, and
knew more about it and hounds, than ourselves ?
I can only say that, figuratively speaking, I should
take my hat off to such a man as my superior as a
sportsman, though I might well know he would
not face the commonest gate for 1000/. Eliding
boldly certainly shows determination and courage,
but the not doing so by no means is proof of the
general want of it; there is a peculiar kind of
constitutional nerve necessary to make a bold
rider, and practice makes such riding habitual;
still a man may possess courage of the highest
order if called on, that cannot, or at all events
does not, show nerve in the chase.

There is not only a good deal, but a great deal,
of arbitrary exclusiveness in certain hunts : very
aristocratic, very fashionable all this may be ;
whether it is perfectly in unison with the courteous
liberality of gentlemanly demeanour, is not for me
to say. The man making his appearance at a meet
at Oadby Toll-gate, if it was known he had but
two or three hunters, would be held as a nobody,
or as one that nobody knows ; if he rode merely
fairly, was seen watching every hound and the
hunting without noticing Piow others' horses went_,

" WHEN SHALL WE THREE MEET AGAIN/' 135

or his own, so long as lie could see the working
of the hounds, he would be voted a nobody double
distilled ; but if the somebodies giving such votes
spent an after-dinner with the late Lord Darlington,
Mr. ]\Iusters, and Ward, if the discussion of the
merits of hounds and the intricacies of fox-hunting
were the subject, the owner of fifteen first flighters
might in his turn be thought, as a sportsman, a
nobody — lucky if he came off vrith so mild a cog-
nomen from the last-mentioned of these genuine
sportsmen.

R 4

136

CHAP. V.

A Day with the Hounds. — Opening the Campaign. — All fair
in War. — Bone versus Blood. — Blood versus Bone. — Cha-
racters in the Field. — H. H. doing the Honours.

Shortly after sending the above general ideas
of mine to my friend^ cub -hunting was over ; the
regular fixtures were given out; and, as I had
proposed, I prepared to have a ride with my friend
with hounds, as I before had on the road, and in
Hyde Park. I invited him to spend what time he
could spare with me, of course giving, as a reason,
the pleasure his society would afford me. My
motive, however, was this; I thought it better
he should show any want of hunting habits in a
strange country, than in his own. I engaged a
comfortable stable for him with a coach-house for
a box at a small inn close by, not having a
vacant stall at my own place; sooth to say, I
seldom had, live where I would.

He sent down four horses ; the bay we have
so admired before, the memorable grey, and two
my friend had bought for him, l3oth as nice
specimens of hunters as could be seen, and, to the
credit of my selection of a stud groom from the
hack stable, all in tip-top condition. I hardly

OPENING THE CAMPAIGN. 137

kiievr my old friend tlie grey ; if condition could
make him go_, lie was fit to go for a man^s life.

I had retm'ned from hunting, had just doffed
the pink and et ceteras, and donned shoes, stockings,
and that never to be despised friend, a well made
but thread-bare evening coat, when my friend
drove up. A couple of dozen of oysters I have
heard termed a whet to the appetite for dinner ;
however, one dozen of natives between us, properly
qualified, sent us to the stable to await the early
fox-hunter^ s hour of four for something more sub-
stantial. The merits and demerits of his and my
own nags were discussed : of the latter I need say
nothing here ; they were at all events good ones
to look at, whatever they might be to go.

Over a humble bottle of port the next day^s
plans were proposed ; the fixture was fourteen
miles oflP, and, as my friend^s horses had come
twenty-five the day they arrived, we agreed a
little walk would suit them better than a day^s
hunting.

'' Do you like hare ? '^ said I ; *^^ I mean on the
table.^^

" Few things better," said my friend.

" Do you like a bit of coursing ? " rejoined I.

" Even better than a bit of hare," replied my
guest.

" You shall have a taste of botli to-morrow,"
said I.

138 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

" You speak confidently/' said my friend ; " I
suppose your dogs are first-rate/'

"So far from it/' said I, " I am rated by
every man in tlie country wlio owns a long dog
for keeping mine^ to each of wliicli a halter if they
are caught out is promised. The truth is, I only
course for two purposes; one is literally fun, when
I have nothing else to do ; the other is when I
"want a hare or two, which my dogs rarely fail
to pick up for me if once they get sight of one ;
I have three, or, in proper terms, a leash. The
fact is, one was given me because he ran cunning,
so he was of no use at the meetings, though first-
rate as to qualities of speed and stoutness ; the
second I bought, who soon learned the tricks of his
comrade; and the other I begged, to save him from
being hanged for the same fault : so in truth
they are direct hare murderers ; but not professing
to be a courser, I bear all their taunts, and no
hare escapes my long tails, one of whom, how-
ever, had lately very nearly become a short tail,
for following my horse to a friend's house, while
my back was turned, I caught the gentleman
with my dog's tail in one hand and a gardener's
knife in the other ; so in one moment more my
unfortunate dog would have boasted a stump had
I not come to the rescue."

The next morning we sallied forth; a man
leading my proscribed dogs ; I on an old groggy

ALL FAIR IX WAR. 139

horse that had been my crack hunter ; my friend
on a Galloway mare of mine, much under fourteen
hands.

" What am I to do/^ said my friend, ^' if the
hare takes across the fields ; will this pony lead
over ? ^'

" You need not trouble yourself to lead her/^
said I j " she will carry you over anything you
will meet hereabouts ; I put you on her to show
what little ones can do ; that Galloway, in give
and take hurdle races, that is, weight for inches,
has beat some very fair full-sized horses; so follow
me on my old cripple; if the pony baulks or
falls, 1^11 give her to you/^

We found a hare who went off straight for
some plantations half a mile off: this was all fair
so far, the dogs ran up to her, and now their game
began ; and theirs in short was, in another sense,
a give and take race or course, for one of them
always took care to be half a dozen lengths behind
the other; so the moment the leading dog turned
puss, the other was on her ; thus they had scarcely
run up to their game before, after a turn or two,
she was in one or the other^s mouth ; and so well
did they understaiid this by-play, that if they
once got near a hare, she was booked to a
certainty.

" Pray,^^ said my friend, " do you call this fair
towards poor puss ? "

140 THE HUNTIXG-FIELD.

" It is not certainly fair coursing^ but^ as to its
fairness towards puss, it is at all events as fair as
shooting lier ; and as I never do this_, I do take a
little liberty witli lier in tlie way you see^ w^liicli
gives me a gallop as well as a liare/^

'' I wish I had not ridden this pony/^ said my
friend as w^e returned home.

" Why so?^^ said I.

" Why/^ said my guest, ''^t puts me out of
conceit with my horses ; here is a httle animal
that, with near twelve stone on her back, has
carried me up to greyhounds, bounded over
hurdles and fences, as strong under me as if I
was a boy ; and I have given heavy prices to get
what can do no more. Will you sell her ?"

" Your discontent,^^ said I, " is uncalled for, but
affords me occasion to make a few remarks that
may be useful to you. In the first place, I warned
you I had put you on the back of an extraordinary
animal, by whom you must not judge of such in
general ; though this you may set down as fact,
small horses are no doubt stronger, and indeed
better, in proportion to their size than large ones.
A fair or good horse, of proper size, can of course
do a great deal more than the Galloway you are
now on; but certainly not so much more as his
increased size would w^arrant us to expect. I
told you, if you recollect, in allusion to your little
steeplechase mare, that for short distances weight

BONE YEllSUS BLOOD. 141

does not affect any horse, except a race-horse, so
mucli as may be nsually conceived it would. You
have found the truth of this to-day, but remember
this country, or at least the part we are in, rides
sound and light, the fences are not large, and
even where they are, they can safely be jumped
on and off. If I could insure a whole run to be
over such a country, riding as I do, light, I do
not believe any hounds could get aAvay from me
on the pony : but do not deceive yourself in favour
of under-sized horses, good as they may be ; for, as
Somerville says of small hounds, so may be said
of very small horses, ^the puny breed in every
furrow swims ; ' and where large leaps have to be
covered at once, we must, as a general rule, have
size to do it.

" Some years since, I went to hunt for a few
days with a friend, who had another staying with
him for the same purpose. This last-mentioned per-
sonage was about ten stone in his hunting saddle,
and about five feet four in height ; he had a
couple of thick-set, strong, good-looking horses
down there, and having no turf ideas about him,
talked a great deal of ' having something under
one ; ^ ' blood was all very well, but bone carried
the blood.' Agreed that my tw^o horses were very
handsome, looked like galloping; allowed, on
my begging him to span their legs, that they
quite surprised him as to size and firmness of feel.

142 THE HUxNTlNG-riELD.

but he liked bigger bone still, and more fiesli to
support it. ^I donH like/ said he, using ratlier
to me a new expression, 'these cuts and slashes/
alluding to where the division of muscle on my
nags could be seen.

" We w ent out next day and got a clipper. I
on a five year old horse, that I had bought at
Newmarket and made a hunter of. My little
advocate for bone and flesh went well, I modestly
playing second fiddle to him. Twenty minutes
was nearly over, not a hound stooping, and scarce
a note heard. I saw my little acquaintance had
plenty on his hands, both in regard to his horse's
head and also to keeping his place : we were now
on light ploughed ground, and the country open.
Now, said I to myself, for a little fair mischief.
My horse, that I had held quite within himself,
was only at his three-quarters speed. I laid hold
lightly of my curb-rein, got his nose in, and just
letting him feel the spurs, he went by my pilot
like an express train passing a luggage one. ' What
do you say to "the cuts and slashes " now ? ' said
I, as I passed him. I saw the heels go to work ;
that won't last long with bone and flesh, thought
I : luckily for him, just as I got over the crown of
the hill, the hounds ran into pug, and up came
my friend in a trot, as the huntsman, after a thrill-
ing ' whoo-whoop,' gave a ' Hallo ! tear him ! tear

BLOOD VERSUS BONE. 143

him, my boys ! ' and threw the carcase among the
pack.

'' A month afterwards my host wrote to me,
saying, his friend had sold his horses, bought two
thorough breds, never had the stud-book out of
his hands, and now took as mistaken an idea
regarding blood horses, as he did before of fleshy
ones, his new cry being, ' Never mind the bone,
that never breaks ; one ounce of blood is worth a
ton of it.^

" He got into the spindle-shanked sort, but
being very light himself, they got along with him.

'^ It is thus," said I, " people so often get badly
carried, from running into extremes. If they get
big ones they fancy coach-horses can carry them ;
and if they fancy blood, they imagine weeds will
make hunters ; depend on it, neither will do.

" And now," said I, '^'^as to your question of
whether I wall sell the pony, I have no objection
to do so ; but I do not see what you want her for ;
I will not take less than a hundred and fifty for
her ; she is only five ofi\, and won nearly that sum
during the summer, winning five races ; but I
must let you a little into her history, that you
may not attach too much value to Galloways. I
believe her (strong as she looks) to be as thorougli-
bred as Eclipse ; her dam was a racing Galloway^
by Dr. Syntax out of a little mare, running as a
hrdf-bred one; and the one you are on is by

144 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

Muley IMolocli,, so there is not much the matter
as to breeding. I bought her for 60/. after seeing
her beat^ evidently from want of condition at the
time. You may get one for a fifth of the money,
just as good for ordinary purposes ; so I strongly
recommend your leaving her where she is ; and
always bear in mind as regards horses, that their
value chiefly depends on their being applied to the
purposes their peculiar qualities fit them for.^^

" I wish/^ said my friend during the evening,
"I could persuade you to ride my grey to-
morrow j my man tells me he never baulks now
as he did when I got him : your account of him
will decide me whether to keep him on or not."

" Saddle White Surrey for the field to-morrow,"
said I, " as you wish it ; if we take our line of
country and keep among the chalk, grey will I
hope do : but if we get into the grazing part of
our country, I fear the pasturage will not be to
his taste ; however, I will take care to leave
enough in him to reach home."

We were somewhat early at the fixture, and
the hounds were only coming up as we got there.
On coming up, the first Whip and Huntsman
touched their caps.

" I have brought a friend to see your hounds,"
said I to the latter.

" Very proud to see the gentleman, sir," said
Will.

THE BEST SORT OF SOVEREIGN. 145

" That/' said I, ^'is the famous Will , one

of the best huntsmen living, and a very good-
natured fellow to any thing but a fox/'

Will took off his cap at this compliment, when
my friend with very good tact rode up to him,
saying, " I don't know whether you cap with
your hounds or not. Huntsman, but a stranger
should always suppose you do," putting a sove-
reign into his hand.

'^ Now," said I, seeing different men coming
towards us, " I will, as far as the time will allow,
tell you whom you see. That gentleman who has
just come up on his hack, as if his life was at
stake as to time, is a rich man and gives liberally ;
so people are civil to him : he made his fortune in
business in London, and has bought a fine place
near here : he is one of those fussy mortals who
are always in a hiuTy ; he is so in coming, is so
while hounds are finding or running, and would
be in as great a hurry to get home again, but
that he generally so knocks up his horse, that he
is fain to get there somehow: he is always doing
wrong, riding over hounds, heading back a fox
into cover, giving wrong information to the hunts-
man, who however knows him too well to attend
to him; and as for keeping his tongue still,
nothing but a twitch could keep it so ; he is
however, a harmless, good-natured creature in dis-
L

146 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

position, and as lie is not mucli seen after the
first burst, no one quarrels with him.

" That gentleman preparing to mount that fine
chesnut is a very wealthy distiller and banker

at , who, though he made small notes for

the use of his townsmen and others, does not
make small ones of his own importance. He
once represented his town in parliament, and
always represents a rather pompous, purse-proud
personage : he gives long prices for his horses ;
but they are always fat, each comes out but seldom,
as it takes them a fortnight to recover a moderate
run ; and if any one wished him to risk his neck,
they have only to show they are watching him,
his wish to show himself off will then make him
outdo himself.

" That tall gentlemanly man on the brown in
such fine condition is a clergyman, with a good
living, and moderate independent property, a
perfect sportsman, fine quiet rider, and a perfect
gentleman ; he keeps two hunters, and hunts twice
a week. His horses are first-rate, he steals away
quietly with the hounds, and no matter what the
country, there he stays; he pays his curate
liberally though only availing himself of his
services one month in the j^ear; in fact, in the
church, drawing-room, or field, he is liked by
every one. If you want a pilot, keep your eye
on him ; but mind, unassuming as he looks, and

'without) state. 147

really is, lie turns his liorse^s head from nothing
practicable/^

" Who is that/^ said my friend, "who has just
moved his hat to the clergyman, who has kissed
his hand to him in return ? ^^

"That/^ said I, "is young , the jour-
neyman parson; in other words, the curate I
alluded to : he and his chief are, as you see,
on such terms as reflect great honour on both;
each most deservedly esteems the other. Young
Roberts, as he is called, though sotto voce, ' Bob '
by his intimates, with a 120/. as his curacy,
and 200/. a year of his own, a very pretty and
amiable wife, and fortunately no family, is as
happy a fellow as any in the kingdom. He keeps
two horses, each of which goes in his gig, hunts
like his master twice a week, is visited by the
best society, and his wife and he are always
invited and welcome guests at the first houses in
the neighbourhood. His gig is his chariot ; his
lady sports an oiled skin cloak and hood, the
dressing-room of the hostess is at her command,
and in ten minutes after their arrival they walk
into the reception rooms as aristocratically dressed
as any there. But to return to the field.
Bob never gives above five and twenty as a
maximum for his horses ; he gets them of the best
possible sort and breed : he is light, a beautiful,
scientific, and bold rider, with fine hands ; and if

L 2

148

THE HUNTING-FIELD.

his nags have one tolerably sound leg, it is more
than they usually boast: he has them in the
highest possible condition, and reversing the com-
mon practice of men, for the first ten minutes he is
never seen, but so soon as he and his cripples get
warmed, their breeding tells, and blood from the
best stables in England thus sends along legs
not often seen in any stable but his own.
Towards the close of a run, the rector and curate
often have a twist at each other, and Bob is
always willing, like the Vicar of Wakefield, to
have at ' the head of the Church,^ and two better
horsemen in good-natured strife never contended
for first in.

" Do you see that short, stout-looking man, with
three times as much clothes on him as any one
else, and those three times too big for him : that
is Frank Holloway, a farmer, breeder, hunting
and steeple-chase rider, trotting rider and driver,
pigeon shooter, master of a nondescript pack of
rough and ready dogs, that will hunt any thing,
and at times hunt all things. He, is moreover, a
wrestler, and has come off victorious in several
mills, because they could not give him thrashing
enough to stall him off. He is rough rider to
the whole country ; any reprobate that no one
else will mount is sent to Frank Holloway. He
has been in every ditch, and has tumbled into or
over every fence in the country, and I believe has

ROUGH CUSTOMERS. 149

not a square inch of his body that has not been
black and blue a hundred times. He is^ as you
see now, on a very fine grey entire horse, who, from
being uncommonly handsome and uncommonly
good, has been in the hands of every man in the
hunt, with all of whom, not only in fencing but
in galloping, he has come down headlong, in
spite of curbs, gags, chifFneys, and all sorts of
bits. Frank has now had him more than a month,
rides him in a plain snaffle held quite loose ; when

he makes a blunder, Frank gives him a

and a double thonger over the ears, and away
they sail again ; he has not as yet had a fall from
him, and swears he is the safest horse in the world
if people would not be afraid of him. This, by the
by, I have generally found, that the more freedom
we give an unsafe goer, the safer will be his
action. What will be the result of Frank's riding
the grey I know not, but such is the horse and
such the man. I have known, and so have many,

some other hard bitten d s of the same sort.

George Gosden one of his Majesty's Yeomen
Prickers, was one; and, of a later date, poor Sollo-
way, the steeple-chase rider, was another.

" You see," said I, " another well-known cha-
racter in this hunt, on the good-looking bay horse.
His bridle, saddle, boots, breeches, cravat, all
about him could not be in better taste if he was
at a meet at Kirby Gate, yet he sports a simple

L 3

150 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

drab kind of sliooting jacket, instead of the
pink. That is Mr. or Jack Fearon, one of tlie
crack riders here, and would be the same every-
where. He is a better bred one than one in ten
of those out ; his father was a private gentleman ;
Jack was educated at Rugby^, but for some cause
inherited one thousand instead of twenty, which
he expected j he took a small farm here, and also
took a Avife, as well bred as himself. From a
hundred acres he now farms eight hundred ; but
the slights he underwent in his commencement
live fresh in his memory ; his doors are shut to
those who now would enter them and be his
friends. Keeping such far oif, he is too proud to wear
scarlet, lest it might be thought he was wishing
to become one of those who once slighted him. I
have the pleasure of the entree to his house, where
everything speaks of the gentleman ; he is cour-
teous to all, but holds them at the distance they
formerly did him; his only friends are the two
parsons we have seen, and the master of the pack,
every dog of wdiich he knows as well as the
huntsman. Be the country rough or smooth, the
drab jacket is among the first. You see three
coming up together; they are officers from the
barracks, and, as you now see, by the friendly
mutual recognition, are friends of Fearon^s. He
is rather an extraordinary man, and though sin-
gularly mild in manners, he is a bold man who

AN OLD ANECDOTE. 151

would venture to say an offensive word to
Fearon.

" You must see that very tall man on the black ;
that is a stranger here ; Captain Oliver, one of the
most gentlemanly men and best riders in his
own or any other country; he is a guest at the
barracks.

" I conclude you know that short firm-built
man on that wicked looking bay mare."^
^' Indeed I do not/^ said my friend.
" What/^ cried I, " not know the Captain; where
on earth was you born ? You remind me of an old
anecdote of the once celebrated Backhouse. Before
gas was in use he was a link-boy at the theatre
doors, a vocation now uncalled for. He one evening
asked a gentleman for sixpence for lighting his
party from their carriage. ^ Please, sir, remember
Buckey.^ — ^AVho the deuce is Buckey?^ said the
gentleman, probably not much used to London
characters. ^ Why, donH you know Buckey ?^ said
the link-carrier. — ^ No, upon my soul, I do not,^
replied the other. ^ Then you^re no gentleman,
I^m sure,^ said Buckey, looking at him with sove-
reign contempt. I do not say this of you ; but I
should almost say, if you do not know the Captain,
^ you^re no sportsman.^ That individual is no other
than the celebrated ]Mr. or Captain Beecher, whose
name, conjointly with that of Vivian, will live in the
memory of every sportsman while memory lasts.

L 4

152 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

Some persons may call Beeclier now of the old
school. This is, however, scarcely the case, for
steeple-chasing is all comparatively a 7ieiv school ;
but new or old we have had none who could ride
better, and where head and hands were wanted, few
who could ride as well. Beecher has the rare qua-
lity of getting all out of a horse that can be got,
and that without any of the butchering many
riders so unnecessarily make use of. Few men
have ridden more successfully than Beecher, and
his success was mainly to be attributed to his
head: no man living is a better judge of pace
and the powers of a horse than he is : he could
punish as severely as any man if necessary ; but
I think I will say he never gave a stroke to a
horse but when thorough good judgment told him
it would be efficacious; nor did he ever give a severe
dig of the spur when, in his phrase, ^ a squeeze^
would answer the purpose. True his whiskers
are not of their pristine hue, but they are as
critically arranged as ever, and his spirits are as
buoyant. May both last as long as the recollection
of his fine riding will, and long after many of
those that have sprung up as riders within the
last few years will be forgotten !

" But here comes the Master of the hounds, so
we will stop our chat, offer our salutations to him,
and then attend to our business."

" But," said my friend, " I have no acquaintance
with the gentleman."

DOING ONE^S BEST FOR A FRIEND^S CREDIT. 153

" I am aware of tliat/^ said I ; ^^ at this moment
we do not move onr liats to him as an acquaint-
ance, but in virtue of his situation as master of
the pack; a piece of courtesy that no well-bred
man omits on like occasions."

Our courtesy returned. " You are on a new
horse, I see, Hieover," said the Master, " and a
very fine horse he is."

" He is merely one I am trying for a friend,
my lord." " Well," said 1, to my friend, " that is
no fib, and if grey exposes himself, his being ^ on
trial,^ will save the credit of your stable."

"Come," said I, "now do throw away that
beastly weed you have been puffing this half-hour,
for this cover which is not large is sure to hold a
fox, arid when he does go from here you will have
enough to do with your horse, I can tell you,
without blowino^ a fire under vour nose."

The Master now gave a wave with his hand, and
the Huntsman rode gently towards the cover.
Not a hound stirred from his horse^s heels till,
having come close to the hedge, "Yoi over
there ; loo in ! loo in ! " sent every hound on to
the hedge, and dropping on the other side not
one was visible. The Huntsman now trotted to a
gate leading into the cover, and only the field was
to be seen. " Yoi ! wind him there;" halloos the
huntsman.

" Loo on ! loo on, hounds ! " cries the First Whip,
finding two or three couple rather dwelling at the

154? THE HUNTING-FIELD.

lower end of tlie cover. A hound near us leaps
out of the cover and canters up its side, probably
finding it a pleasanter path to the Huntsman than
through a close cover.

Up comes the Second Whip at the rate of twenty
miles an hour, his whip-thong ready for use. The
hound caught sight of him, and prepared to spring
into the cover. " Ravager, Eavager," rated the
Whip, but the first word was enough, and Ravager
was safe over just as the Whip got to the spot
he leaped from. A whimper is now heard
from a well-known sure-finding hound. " Yo-
oul-yo!^^ then sounded old Hannibal, throwing
his tongue something like the deep-toll of St.
Paul's.

" Have at him, there ! '^ cries the Huntsman.
" Hark, Hannibal, hark ^^

" Hoik together ! hoik together, hoik ! " cries
the* First Whip, cantering up the side of the cover.

" Hark cry, hark cry, hoik ! '^ says the Second,
with a slight crack of his whip to a few hounds
that did not fly to the halloo as quickly as he
wished. " Cum up,^^ says he to his horse,
giving him a haul up and the double thong behind
the girths. Crash goes the hedge, and in goes
the Whip at bottom of the cover.

'' Whoo, whoo ! ^^ shouts the Huntsman, who
has just got a view of pug.

" Hark, hollar ! hark, hollar, hoik ! '' cry both

IN'S

155

Whips together; one to the body^ the other to
the tail hounds of the pack.

I now saw my friend gather up his reins, clap
spurs to his horse, and off he w as going in a
canter. "Hold hard!" cried I. He pulled up
and came back. " Where the deuce was you off
to?'' said I.

" Why, did you not hear the Huntsman?''

" I did/' said I. " He view^ed the fox, and
wished to collect his pack, in which you hear the
Whips are assisting him."

"Well," said my friend, "I have heard you
say a man should be on the alert to get off in a
good place. The fox is viewed, and here are we
standing still."

" My good fellow," said I, " a fox viewed in
cover is not exactly a fox viewed out of one ; and
if the cover was a large one he might be viewed
a dozen times, and require a pretty good share of
mobbing before he would be got out, though this
is not the case here. AVhere can we be better ?
We are out of sight, though we command the part
where a fox would, nine times in ten, break. We
are down w ind, so can hear all that is going on ;
and as we can't drive pug out, though the hounds
will, here we had better remain unless we see
good reasons to move."

Shortly after we heard the full chorus in cover
coming towards us. " Tm^n your horse's head

156 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

from the cover/^ said I, " and be silent ; so if pug
wishes to go, don^t let us stare him in the face/^
By us went the pack inside the cover. " Now
for a break to the right/' says I. Near the top
of the cover over jumped Charley, the clean
white tip of his brush, high carried, showed him
no tired or draggled one. I saw my friend's
mouth open like the new gutta percha busts sold
as toys. " Be quiet, pray do,'' says I.

" There goes the fox," said my friend.

^' And we will go after him ; if you don't send
him back," replied I. Pug had now got a field
off, and on his jumping the hedge into the next,
" Now, come along," said I, and galloping up
to where he broke cover, I gave a " Tally-ho,
away ! " Ditto, of course, from my friend.^ '' Now
be quiet," said I ; " we don't want to call away
the hounds, but to let the Huntsman know Charley
is off. The hounds had, however, heard the
halloa, over came a couple and a half and raced
up to where we stood. " Yo doit. Termagant ! "
said I. The old bitch looked at me, and I could
fancy said, ^^ You know the line ; come, cap us on,
and don't give me the trouble of picking it out."
" It won't do, old lady," said I. " Yoi doit, there ! "
The old bitch put down her nose, ^' owned " it,
and away she went. By this time over came the
pack, and over came Will: I just waved my hat
on the line. ^' Now," said I, '' you see we have

THE STORM RISING. 157

not lost a place; let us see if we can keep it/^
Coming to the first fence I did not see tlie couple
and a half that had gone off beyond it. " Ware
hounds/^ cried I to niy friend : the words were
scarce out of my mouth before I saw the old lady
streaming away stern down, leading the other
couple. " Go along/^ cried I to my friend, mak-
ing the same hint do for the grey, to whom,
remembering his former propensity to baulk, I
gave a refresher as hint conclusive. He took the
fence beautifully; the body of the pack, who had
regularly raced along a headland, taking tlie same
fence in their swing.

" Yoik forward, good lads ! '' screeches Will,
driving Claret through a bullfinch to the left of
his hounds, to avoid being too close on them.

'' Keep to the right," cried I to my companion,
" or you^ll be among them if they turn.-'^ Reach-
ing the second fence, the leading hound threw up
for a moment, then hit it off, and went away like
a rocket.

" All right," said I, " he is off for Redlands ;
we shall have a taste of the brook presently."
The short turn the hounds had made let all the
field up. We were now going a clipper down hill
to the meadows, the brook before us; in went
old Termagant, still leading.

" Over he is," cried Will, " close to my side."
The clergyman I had mentioned had, as usual.

158 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

got in front; over his horse went like a flying
fish, almost skimming the water ; ditto Fearon
one hind leg just, and only just, breaking the
opposite bank; young Roberts gave his hat his
usual thrust down on his head, his old cripple
grinding her teeth, but taking it clear and clean ;
by his side went Captain Oliver, his legs almost
touching the water. My friend rode at it man-
fully, but held his horse too hard; he just and
barely did it. Now for a souser, thinks I, on
grey ; but I suppose, from some lessons he had
had, he went at it racing, and cleared it well, but
making it a regular tilter from jumping high and
wildly. Never was a finer on tapis for the next
twenty minutes, my friend going like a trump ;
the grey now began stretching out his neck;
and stretching out my legs, I eased him all I
could to keep in anything like a place.

" It^s pretty near u p. White Surrey,^^ said I.
Looking towards my friend I saw he was letting
his horse make a spread eagle of himself; but he
was not near enough to speak to. I had been
nursing grey up a firm headland. A post and
rail ran across part of the field, which most took.
Grey just got over, hitting it hard. My friend, to
avoid the timber, had gone out of his way, and
was now powdering across a deep and heavy ridge
and furrow to make up for lost ground. His
horse went slower each stroke, till he got into

COMING OFF SECOND BEST. 159

nearly tliat kind of out of time canter, the last
resource of a beaten liorse. He tried liim at the
next fence, but he stopped fairly, or rather unfairly,
" pumped out/' I trotted up to him.

'^ Why,'' cried my friend, " the grey is worth
a dozen of this brute : he is regularly knocked
up.''

" He is blown, I grant you," said I, " and no
wonder. But all the steel is out of grey ; he
could not go two fields further. We have done
our best ; the best can do no more."

'^ I suppose," said my friend, looking somewhat
rueful, " we have only to go home."

" I do not think," said I, laughing, '^ we can
do anything else, and luckily we have not far to
go. Your horse will be all right in a few minutes,
but grey is regularly sewed up, and won't want
such another taste for some time."

We got home; my friend's horse had quite
recovered, but grey was too far gone for this ; he
was, in the literal sense of the word, tired, and
glad enough I was to get him home.

" He looks very queer," said my friend. " He
don't mean to make a die of it, does he? Would
you bleed him ? "

" Die ! " said I, " there is no more chance of
his dying than of yours : he wants no bleeding;
he is merely dead tired, and wants refreshing
instead of bleeding. Give him a quart of my ale

160 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

and a couple of glasses of gin in it; this will
stimulate his appetite ; give him a cool but not
cold mash, as soon as he will eat it ; put him in the
box, bed him up, and let him lie down as soon as
possible ; he will be stiff and tired to-morrow ;
just let him stretch his legs, led in hand, about
midday, and next day he will be as well as ever/^

" I will now give you a hint as to bleeding a
horse after exertion, which should never be done
without great caution. If after a long and severe
day your horse shows symptoms of great distress,
producing great palpitation, very quickened pulsa-
tion, a hot mouth, inflamed eyes, and every in-
dication of coming fever, bleeding is quite proper,
and bleed just in such quantity as lowers the
pulsation to its proper beat, and quiets the pal-
pitation brought on from over-excitement of the
general system; but to bleed a horse merely
because nature is in a temporary state of exhaus-
tion, is only exhausting it still more for no j)ur-
pose, and preventing his energies rallying as they
would do of their own accord simply by rest,
which is all the grey wants.

" Such horses seldom hurt : the fact is, their
powers, or game, or whatever it may be, will not
last long enough to bring the internal organs into
a state likely to end in serious inflammation, their
legs and spirits tire before the system is under
excitement long enough to produce danger.^^

161

CHAP. VI.

Confidential Inquiry. — Conduct in the Field. — Harriers and
Mr. Mullins. — Differences between Fox and Hare-hunting. —
An Interlude.

" I cannot/^ said my friend^ as we sat tete-{\-tete
during the evening, "understand the events of
this morning, so we must chat them over, though
I anticipate the result -will not be very flattering
to me. How was it that 1, on the best horse in my
stable, came really to a stand-still ; while you, on
the one we consider the worst, stopped him while
he seemed at the time comparatively fresh; for,
take it altogether, candour must allow you rode the
grey closer to the hounds than I did the bay.^^

" Oh, my fair cousin, we must not say so,^^ said
I, laughing ; '' but, to be serious, I allow it was
so, and I will explain all this. I found your grey,
thanks to your head-man^s good judgment, had
become perfect as a fencer : this, good manage-
ment can make most horses; but unfortunately,
though we can much improve stamina, we cannot
make it -really good if nature has made it the
reverse. I ahvays suspected the ^gallant grey^ in
this particular, so I had nothing to trust to Imt
making my way wdth him as short as possible,

M

162 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

wliicli is straight to any point before us at the
moment. I never ventured to take him fifty
yards out of his way to avoid blind or suspicious
fences, which I should have done on a better and
stouter horse ; you did not perceive it, but I com-
paratively watched every yard of ground he went,
and nursed him over any part at all heavy or
distressing. The moment 1 found any symptoms
of failing, I took a pull at him, and thus saved
him before matters got worse; and, twenty times
during the run, had I persevered with him at the
pace, I should have sewed him up in a few strides.
I care not how good a horse may be, but there
are particular periods when half a moderate field
at the same pace, or if the ground gets deep, will
stop the best horse that ever looked through a
bridle, if we do not attend to him ; but with all
this, grey could not have got half a dozen fields
further ; he was not blown, as yours was, but he
was beat. I nursed him up the headland before
coming to the last flight of rails, so as to keep a
pinch of jumping powder for them; and it was
but a pinch, it was touch and go ; that is, a very
heavy touch and but just '' a go :^ we will now see
what you did. I must say you went quite like a
workman as to nerve, but I could see two things :
you were, if I may use a new term, ^ tossed^ in
your saddle more than could have been pleasant ;
this arose chiefly from riding a couple of holes too

LET THE HORSE GO, BUT THE RIDER THINK. 163

long, SO all the shock came on your fork instead
of being eased by your feet, knees, and tliiglis :
you also sat as young field-riders often do, as
if you were prepared to take flight if your horse
made a mistake ; that is, you sat loose ; this, riding
shorter will remedy : in the next place, you let
your horse go, in riding phrase, 'abroad;^ no
horse alive can go thus long together : there are
some, I allow, that will go without (comparatively)
any hold on their head on the part of the rider ;
such a horse is one in fifty ; and where it is the
case, they are enabled to go so from naturally
going in an unusually collected form. A horse
going with his head out, and dwelling in his stride,
is beating himself as fast as he can ; collecting him
will recover him, if not gone too far. Yet, sensible
as horses are, they will not do this of their own
accord, but, on the contrary, the more beat they
become, the more they sprawl in their going : after
this, they perhaps shorten their stride; but this
arises from being reduced to an unconnected
stiffened canter, if canter it can be called, and
then shortly, ' who ho,^ ' you^-e planted.-'

" The next error you committed is one abso-
lutely unpardonable in any rider across country ;
want of attention to the ground you ride over.
If a horse has gone an improper pace across a
heavy field, and is then put at a fence out of it,
even supposing he clears it, he lands on the other

M 2

10 L THE HUx\TING-FIELD.

side in a state of absolute exliaustion ; it pumps,
as it were, every breatli of wind from his lungs,
and prostrates every power of his frame. You
may see a man put his horse at an increased pace
at a fence, and sometimes very properly so ; but if
he knows what he is about, he has taken a pull at
his horse for a few strides before doing so, which
gives him power, like the race-horse thus handled,
to make a rush when called on. Timing this at the
critical moment makes the difference between a
Buckle, Chiffney, Jem Robinson, and such men,
and the senseless, pully-hauly, cut-and-thrust
riding of a calico-jacketed would-be jockey. It
does not come to so nice a point in hunting, but
the principle must be acted on if we mean to see
the end of a trying run.

" I believe you found something like this to be
the case when I came up to you ; your horse was
too much blown to rise at the fence you put him
at ; and if he had done so, he would probably have
rolled over helpless, and possibly broken his neck
on the other side ; having my eye on you, I ex-
pected as much, when I saw you crossing that
ridge and furrow. You don^t seem to like timber
much, so instead of keeping straight, as I did, on
firm ground, you went round to a fence you liked
better, and then had to try and make up lost
distance on a half-blown horse, over a description
of ground as trying as any in the world ; no
horseflesh living could stand this, unless it was, as

ACCOMPLISHED BUT NOT GOOD. 1G5

yours did, to ' stand still ; ' but you will know
better after this."

" I suppose," said my friend, " w^e shall be
prettily jeered the next time we show ourselves."

" That is a thing," said I, " I never trouble my
head about. I hunt because I like hunting, ride
because I like riding; if others choose to ride to
please me and other persons, it is a condescension
I am not disposed to return; but," continued I,
laughing, " as you may be more fastidious than I,
we shall get off very well, by telling a portion of
the truth : the grey I was riding on trial tired,
and you, as my guest and a stranger in the country,
went home with me."

'' What had I better do with White Surrey as
you call him," said my friend ; " I suppose he will
never make a hunter?"

" He is a hunter," said I, " and a very pleasant
one, but not for fox-hounds ; he is very handsome,
and very perfect. To carry a nobleman who
keeps or hunts wdth harriers only, he is worth a
couple of hundred as well as one. The poor
animal is not to blame ; he is very willing, and
indeed very game, for he wdll struggle till nature
can struggle no longer; he is better indeed than I
expected, for he is no cur; he is just what he
looks, a holiday kind of horse, wanting natural
endurance of stamina : you have four others, so
you will do well enough at all events for your

M 3

166 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

first season. Grey will make a capital cover hack,
carry you tlie first burst when you wish it, and
you can take your opportunity to sell him."

'^ Well," said my friend, " now leaving horses,
let me ask you a question or two about hounds.
AYhen we viewed the fox away, and he was quite
gone, why did you, after giving one halloo, desire
me to be silent?"

" Because," said I, " the huntsman being with
his liounds, one halloo was sufficient to tell him
the fox was gone away : it was his business to lay
his hounds on to the scent, not ours to call them
to it. It very rarely happens that a case occurs
where one of the field should take upon himself to
halloo to hounds : it is a liberty, and a great one.
Any lialloo should be for the information of the
men, not as a call to the hounds. Supposing such
a case as hounds having come to a check, neither
master, huntsman, or either whip in sight, and par-
ticularly if the pack are on bad terms with their
fox, if a man has viewed him, it would be quite fair
in him to lay them on to the line of the game ;
having done so, and they having owned the scent,
let him hold his tongue, his temporary business as
huntsman is done; he is not to cap and cheer
them on, galloping by their side at the risk of
causing them to merely race on, instead of hunt-
ing their game ; for if he did, he would probably
take them on at a pace that, unless scent lay very

higli^ tliey would overrun it, throw up, and there
he would be in the midst of them, not knowing
how to repair the mischief he had done, or probably
being able to tell the huntsman when he came up,
to any certainty, how far they really brought tlie
scent on.

" If a man has put hounds on the line of their
game, he should let them hunt it, keeping wide of
them, and watching the leading hound, marking
how^ far, and the spot to which, he really carried
on the scent. Doing this, he is really useful to the
huntsman. But a man should be a thorough judge
of hounds and hunting, to take upon himself to
give such information ; for it in no way follows
that, because the pack collectively ran on to a
certain spot, that they carried on the scent thus
far. If a leading hound or two are seen to fall
back into the pack, or feather about a bit, the
body of the hounds may rush forward, and those
that were leading may follow, probably from mere
habit ; so if a huntsman was decidedly told that
the scent was carried on to where at last the
whole body threw up, he would be led into an error.
Where the leading hound or hounds faltered,
was most probably the actual spot to which the
scent was brought. The information should be,
' such and such hounds led up to such a place,'
probably a field or two oflf. The huntsman then
knows what he has to trust to, if he can trust also

M 4

168 THE HUNTIXG-FIELD.

to liis informant, who, unless lie knows the hounds,
or at all events hunting well, had better give no
information at all."

" One more question," said my guest, " and
then I will let you off for to-night; for, after
giving the grey a lesson by day, and his master
ditto at night, I dare say you will be glad to get
rid of both."

" So far from it," said I, ringing the bell, " send
for your groom, and let us hear how grey is by
this time."

" Well, Martin," said my friend, on his servant
coming in, "how is Lancer — dead or alive?"

" Oh, he^s pretty near right again, sir. I gave
him, as Mr, Hieover desired, some ale and gin : it
soon seemed to set him alive, and an hour ago
he eat his mash like a lyin."

" Have you tried any yourself, Martin ?" said I.

" No, sir," said Martin, stableman-like, laying
hold of his foretop from want of a hat.

" Do then, by all means," said I ; " try it, men
and maids, and drink the grey's health."

" A¥ell," said I, " while they pass my bill in the
lower house, which I doubt not they wdll do,
* nem. con.,' I in the upper one call ^ question.'
What do you want to know ?"

" This," said my friend ; " when the three
hounds — I beg pardon, couple and a half — came
up to us, what did you mean by ' Yo dot,' or

ANSWERING QUERIES. 169

^Yoi doii^t/ or something of that sort you said
in hunting tone to them ? ^^

"^Yo doit/ ^^ said I^ pointing to my friend's
empty glass, ''^that to you means mix. ^Yo
doit ' to a hound means hunt, or try. You saw
our one halloo brought these hounds to us, a
screech or two more would have brought the pack,
possibly before the huntsman could get out of the
cover, what should we have got by going off with
a couple and a half of homids ? They would most
probably, unassisted, have soon got oft* the line,
and misled the body of the hounds ; they quite
understood me, though it seems you did not ; and
the little time it took them to stoop for the scent,
let the pack up, and we got a very pretty thii'ty
minutes' skirmish, quite as long as our powder
lasted.''

" One more question and I have done. Why did
you cry ' ware hound ' to me at the first fence ?"

"Because," said I, "we had a little exceeded
rules in going off with only a couple and a half
of hounds, before the body had actually come
up, and were settled to the scent ; and having
done so, if either of us had maimed a good
hound, I should have hidden my diminished head
as a sportsman, which I flatter myself I am
reckoned. You was nearly on the direct line of the
hounds. I did not see them when I warned you.
Now suppose they were feathering about, from

irO THE HUNTING-FIELD.

pug having dodged down the other side of the
fence^ you would have leaped upon them. Making
allowance for your enthusiasm, I roared ' Go
along ^ loud enough, as soon as I saw the hounds
clear of you ; and after all, though you did not
see it. Will shook his head at me for going off,
figuratively speaking, without hounds, or at all
events somewhat before the entire pack.

'^ Never," said I, "under any circumstances, if
you can help it, ride on the line, that is, behind
hounds, unless they are a considerable distance
before you; always keep, as I believe a sailor
would say, on ' their quarter, ' that is, a little
behind and a good deal on one side of them, in
ordinary cases down wind ; for, if they turn, you
will mostly be a saver of distance by it ; and if,
from any circumstance, they are hid from you,
your ear will tell you where they are, and what
about. Let me give you one bit more of advice,
if you really mean to be a fox-hunter. It is some-
thing like what T gave to a young friend entering
a dragoon regiment : ^ the king has made you
an officer, make yourself a soldier.' To you, I
say, ^ fortune enables you to be a horseman ; make
yourself a sportsman.^ For this you may take my
word — such thorough sportsmen as the Dukes of
Beaufort or Cleveland would as soon see the man
v/ho plays Punch with their hounds, as the man
wdio thinks of nothing but himself, his horse, and

what's your hobby? 171

liis riding; you might satisfy yourself of tliis at
any time. Supposing tlie courtesy of the master
of hounds induces him to address a stranger, if
the latter, wishing to be complimentary in return,
remarks that the master's horse is a tine one, he
would of course return a civil but a very indif-
ferent or careless answer; but let the stranger
judgmatically remark the form of some particu-
larly fine hound or two, the master cocks his ear
directly, the stranger rises quicker than mercury
in the scale of the master's opinion, and he will
find himself doubly noticed from that moment.

^' It would be just the same if the stranger ad-
dress the huntsman, or even whips. Compliment
a huntsman on the condition, form, and unifor-
mity of his pack, he will think it worth his while
to take even extra pains to show the stranger they
are as good as they look ; remark anything about
his horse, he merely would look at you to en-
deavour to decide whether or not you are a horse-
dealer ; and if you gave him the slightest excuse
for doing so, would give you a ' hold hard ' in a
tone that would show he thought you one of a
sort likely to do mischief, and no possible good.

" I remember, as a boy, remarking to a huntsman
a rather peculiar shaped snaflle he had on his
horse, the cheeks of it being in the shape of an S;
not, by-the-by, a very foolish shape either, though
an ugly one, as it prevents the cheeks drawing

l/^i THE IIUNTING-riELD.

into tlie mouth. Tiie only reply I got Avas first
a stare^ and that a rather sulky one. " I did not
see what bridle they had put on." Had I known
enough to have with reason remarked, that such
or such a hound showed something of the Lons-
dale or Beaufort kennels, he would have set me
down as a wonder of a young one.

" The man who merely rides Avithout attending
to hunting, is held as great a bore and pest by a
master of hounds, as would be some old fogy
w^ho pottered about with nine or ten couple of
old blue mottles, if he showed himself at a fixture
in a fast country; in truth, the old gentleman
would be the least objectionable personage, as he
would be soon got rid of; whereas the other would
probably be a pest for the whole day.

" Pest the third is one of those gentlemen who
either turn over, continually l)oring people to assist
them, or perhaps stop the only practicable part of
a fence, while they contemplate its height and
probable width. The only way with such is to
charge them, horse and all, knock them out of
the way, beg pardon, and pass over. This will
teach them to go ; or, Avhat will answer a better
purpose, to keep out of the way.

" No man can ride a chace Avell, who does not

ride boldly. He must do so in most countries to

keep his place ; but always let l^old riding have a

•meaning and an end in it, and that end sliould be,

A NICE BUNCH OF COMMODITIES. 173

keeping where you can see most of the hunting ;
nothing, I conceive^ makes a man look so little
(as a sportsman) as when, after all but butchering
his horse, if he is asked a question as to the hunt-
ing, to find he knows nothing about the matter,
or what the hounds have been doing : one is
almost tempted to say to such a man, ^What the
deuce buisness have you here?^ Any hounds are
good enough for such a man : drafts from differ-
ent kennels, and a bunch of red herrings well
perfumed, would quite answer his purpose; any
dogs would hunt this, and if he maimed one or
two they would be of little more value than the
herrings, or himself (speaking of him as a sports-
man).

^^What are we to do to-morro«,^^ said my
guest, " for I heard you tell the men Ave should
want the horses at ten ? '^

" Why," said I, " though I hope my character,
as a sportsman, ranks moderately well, I must
admit I am not so keen a one as many men are ;
the fox-homids^ fixture to-morrow is fourteen
miles from us, a country they seldom hunt, and
one I never wdsh to see ; nothing I detest so much
as a rough, thickly enclosed, wood country ; you
have to badger a fox for an hour in one cover, he
then only bolts off, and into another close by. If
you keep outside you never see a hound, and if
you get in you tear your clothes, your own and

174 THE IIUxNTI^G-riELD.

horse's skin into the hargain ; are lucky if you do
not get him stubbed for no sport at all ; and after
coming home, it takes a man an hour to search
for and pick thorns out of his legs. I don't ask
much favour, but I do like a ' clear stage/

"I mean to show you to-morrow one of the
most perfect packs of harriers (ever and in all cases
to be excepted those formerly belonging to his
Majesty) I ever saw ; their huntsman, though an
elderly man, would ride at the Thames if he
wanted to get to his hounds, and his whipper-in
would follow him.

" You will, with old Mullins, see a description
of bold riding found, I believe, with few men
but himself; you will see him bundle his horse
through, or over, such queer places as no other
man would dream of encountering. His horses
never refuse, and always get over, somehow ;
where they cannot jump, they will crawl up, and
slide down ; places where others would break their
necks or backs ; and certainly he does sometimes
unexpectedly emerge from such extraordinary
holes and corners as men and horses never could
be expected to come from : as to following him
through a day, the thing would be impossible ; for,
where you or I should be looking for a practicable
part of a fence, through some unaccountable hole
he rams his horse, and leaves one in amazement
how on earth he ever got through. His horses

A CHARACTER. 175

are often nearly on their nose^ and at down jumps
very often slide quite on their rumps ; but, some-
how, he never gets a regular purl. I once got
him to take a very wild and uncertain leaper I
had : he, in his quiet way, shoved him into all
sorts of places ; he never rides fast at a fence,
does most of them as standing jumps ; still, go
over or through, they must. I gave him a five
pound note, and he returned me certainly a hunter.
There is nothing ' Quornite ^ in this, I allow ; but
all countries are not Leicestershire ; he is a harrier
huntsman, but send him to !Melton, give him a
Melton hunter, and I will answer for him he
would turn at nothing, or let his horse do so
either : his whip rides bold in another way ; his
horses are flying leapers.''^

On arriving next morning near where I knesv
]\IuUins and his harriers would be, we were rather
late : but after riding about a little, I heard
'^Loak, loak, loak ! yoi, loak!'' "There's old
Mullins's ^loak, loak,''' said I.

" Vv^hat on earth does he mean by that 'loak,'
or rather croak, of his? " said my friend.

"Why," replied I, "it matters little as to effect
what sound you make to a horse or hound, pro-
vided they understand what you mean. By that
monotonous sound he has from habit got into, his
hounds know he means to encourage them to try,
and as another bit of dog language of his own

176 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

if a hound speaks, you Avill very likely hear/ Yoi,
huck her out there/ What the ^huck^ means
is best known to himself and his hounds. It
is not unusual to hear with fox-hounds, 'Yoi,
push him out there : ' Mullins's Hiuck ' does just
as well, though savouring no little of the pro-
vincial.^^

We had now got on Eartham Common, where
Mullins on his big bay, and his whip on his neat
stringhalty grey, were surrounded by twenty
couple of harriers, neat as print and all alive:
three or four farmers, with heavy whips, were
thrashing the broom and furze: the Master, a
rather deformed man on a handsome grey, was
occasionally encouraging some favourite hound;
an old general, a friend of his, but somewhat
about sixteen stone, was on an enormous beast,
a dun with black legs, tail, and mane, with flesh
enough on him to supply the pack for six months ;
a gentleman farmer, a crack rider on a chesnut
so hot that he kept aloof from every one ; the
junior partner of a brewery on a very neat bay;
a Roman Catholic priest, an attache of the Mas-
ter's household, on a nondescript brown mare ;
and a very large fat man, on a very small lean
Galloway, Avith ourselves, composed the field.
Riding up to the Master, ^^ Allow me,'' said I, ^^to
introduce my friend, Mr. ."

^^Most happy to see you, sir, with my little

THE RETORT COURTEOUS. i/7

^ cry ; ' we sliall endeavour to sliow you what sport
we can, in tlie absence of fox-hunting/^

" But in the presence of true hunting/^ replied
I. The Master bowed in acknoAvledgment of the
little compliment. Strange, when a little polite-
ness so conciliates the feelings and good will of
others, how few persons attend to its call !

" See, ho ! '^ said I, gently to my friend, and
putting my hand on his arm.

'^ See what ? '' said he.

" Don^t you see her ? '' said 1 ; " a. hare ? ''

"No, I do not.''

" Do you see that tuft of grass a little higher
than the rest ? ''

" Yes.''

" Do you see anything shine there ? that is her
eyes."

" Ah ! I see her now."

"Now," said I, "this is my great objection to
hare-hunting ; when a fox-hunter is all enthusiasm,
a hare-hunter must be still as the grave."

I held up my hat ; the Master and Huntsman
saw it ; the former came up to us. Old Mullins
kept on " Loak, loak ! " drawing his hounds away
from, instead of to, us. I pointed to the sitting
hare : the practised eye of the hare-hunter saw
her at once, and getting between her and his
hounds, he prepared to put her up, " Turn your
horse's head," said I, " and let her come this way."

N

178 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

Away she came, one ear forward, the other back,
to catch any sound that might indicate where most
danger lay, and making straight for a hole in the
fence, through it she went.

" Why does not the Huntsman come up and lay
his hounds on at once ? " said my friend.

" Because,'' said I, '' this is another of the dif-
ferent features between fox and hare-hunting, and
one that I consider makes the latter comparatively
so tame a sport.

" With a fox we always wish to get off on as
' good terms with him ' as possible ; with a hare
they wish her to get at first a little advantage of
the hounds; and I will tell, indeed show, you an-
other reason why, harriers should be cheated into
the fancy that they have found or hit upon then'
game, instead of its having been found for them.
You see the Huntsman is now drawing his hounds
towards the form she has just left, still encourag-
ing them to try all the way. Notwithstanding this
precaution, do you not see a couple or two of
hounds with heads up, and looking about them.
They are as awake to what has gone on, as we
are, though their perfect clisciplme keeps them
from attempting to break away.''

" How should they know this ? " said my friend.
^^From the same sort of thing having con-
stantly occurred to them. The young, newly
entered hounds are not thus cunning, but a season

BLUE BONNETS " OVER THE BORDEr/' 179

or two will make tliem so. Those hounds that, as
you observe, are not putting a nose near the
ground, saw me hold up my hat, or perceived the
Master at once come off to us (gently as he did
it), or found the Huntsman drawing them in a
different direction to that he was before taking,
and are quite aware of what any of these ma-
noeuvres means. But besides the wish of givino-
the hare proper Law, if hounds were at once
trotted off, as fox- hounds are, to a halloo or
signal, they would always be looking out for
something of the sort, instead of trying to find
game themselves; they would become wild and
impatient, which would render them worthless as
harriers. Now they are coming close on the
place. You see the rush that hound made to it ;
now he throws his tongue; he has it. 'Yoi
there, Bluecap ! that's it, old boy. Hoik, toge-
ther, hoik ! ' Now, as Somerville has it, ' how
musical their tongues.' Away they go, close as a
peck of peas in a sieve ; they take that low hedge
in their swing, like fox-hounds. It is a peculiar fea-
ture with these, they never creep where they can
jump, if scent lies high and they are sure of it."

"But,'' said my friend, "they are running
away from us."

" Never fear," said I ; " she has made for that
plantation on the hill : while they rattle her through
it, we will trot up; here is again one of the plea-

N 2

IgO THE HUNTING-FIELD.

siires to some, and one of the draAvbacks to
others, of hare-hunting. In a general way there
is little apprehension required as to being thrown
out, or left behind. Hares on downs will certainly
sometimes go as straight as foxes ; it is a peculiar
character in Irish hares to do so, which makes
hare-hunting there, in a general way, a far supe-
rior sport to what it is with us. In an enclosed
country like this, hares have not far to go to feed ;
consequently, they know every field, and always,
in a larger or smaller space, make a ring of it,
as you will see madam puss will here, after
giving herself an airing over yonder hill. There
they go, straight into the plantation ; the Master,
as you see, has stopped his horse this side of it.
There goes Mullins into the cover. You can teU,
by the lessening sound of their tongues, they are
getting towards the other side. Now they turn
towards us again ; there she comes. Now that
young farmer has headed her ; so much the better,
as it\appens, for away she goes down the hill :
now she will give us a chivy across the grass fields
to Beacon Hill : out they come, now for a gallop.
Come,'' said I, our horses at three parts speed,
^^ you must allow the little ones are not caught in
a canter ; the truth is, with a good scent, when
they can run breast high, they can go pretty
nearly as fast as fox-hounds, which proves the
justice of what I have told you before. All

THE LITTLE ONES SHOWING THEIR METTLE. 181

houncls_, unless they are tlie regular southern
sort, can go individually fast enough : it is the
head they carry, the country they go over, and
keeping at it or not, that makes the difference
between a fast run and a pottering one. Look at
them across the pasture ; even Salter on his hot
fast chesnut is not at play, and Mullins is shoving
along the big bay at his best : bravo old fellow !
he knows his hounds are right ; he caps them on
in true fox-hunting style. I am not sure (for, as
the bard has it, ' pride attends us still ^), but that
this ultra ebullition of energy is in honour of you
as a stranger and fox -hunter, for it is not his
usual wont. Please the pigs, old chap, you shall
get half-a-crown instead of a shilling for this.
Look at the Master, how he powders the grey
along : there^s the old General on the renowned
dun. He has changed his colour ; he is now ' done
brown/ and like the horse of a friend of mine
yesterday.^^

" Mind what you say,^^ says my friend, laugh-
ing, and shaking his fist at me, " I^m the biggest
man."

" So said the bay yesterday," replied I, " and
'cursed^ your ^cumbrous weight,^ or something
else."

" Halloo ! " said my friend ; " why, there^s the
brook we crossed yesterday."

*^ Just so," said I, "only not quite so wide just

N 3

182 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

here ; in it she goes/^ said I, viewing maclam^ who
found that she " who hesitates is lost/^

" Will the Huntsman take it ? '' said my friend.

" As sure as 3^ou take your dinner/^ said I.

" And we too, I suppose ? '' said my friend, " as
in honour bound /^

" Throw honour to the dogs," said I, '' in hare-
hunting. At sixteen I should have done so as a
bit of show-off, but add thirty to sixteen we think
differently. ' Charge, Chester, charge ! ' if you
like it ; but I have had too many sonsers to risk
one for nothing, for back they will come from
Beacon Hill, as sure as a hill it is. There goes
Mullins," said I, " all right ; he is paid to keep
close to his hounds, and look how he rides at it,
his horse going just as he pleases ; but he has been
in it too often to get in again ; over he is. Now
look at Sam, his whip ; see how artistically he col-
lects the little grey, sends him spinning at it, and,
as he lands, the bank seems to ' spring elastic from
his airy tread.^ "

Swash goes the water, in goes a horse, and
under goes a man ; it was the young farmer, who,
on a big-headed, coarse bred, four-year-old brute^
rode for a show-off at the water. The nag
plunged up, and young Clodpole plunged half up
and half down in the water. Fools and their
horses are soon parted, as well as fools and their
money, thought I. " Wade to your horse," said
I, laughing; "you can^t be wetter."

" SIC TRANSIT GLORIA MUNDl/^ 183

" I caii^t get my legs out of tlie clay/^ said
Clodpole.

" Then what the deuce business had you there ? "
said I.

Fallacious as may have been my prognostics of
my OAvn career in life, they were correct enough
of that of the hunted hare ; back she came from
the Beacon Hill, blackened was her colour, and
the reeling high and stiff gait told a tale not to
be mistaken. On came the pack like a minia-
ture hurricane ; on came old Mullins on the big
bay.

Poor puss, your hours are numbered ! Fate
follows thee with untiring footstep, and a life un-
conscious of premeditated harm to others pleads
but feebly against its stern resolve : so might
soliloquise he who in lifers chace has played a
somewhat prominent and hardly contested race.

The pack now caught a vicAV; each hound
rushed impetuously forward ; up a high bank reeled
the sinking hare, and through a well-known meuse
she slid feebly ; over went the high-mettled little
pack ; over went Mullins, taking part of the
hedge with him. "Wheek! wheek ! ^^ and poor
puss was soon in a leathern case behind Sam^s
saddle.

I am not of a particularly sensitive turn, but
the plaintive '^ wlieek " of a dying hare grates on
my nerves : the fox dies a game, a fighting foe ;

N 4

184 THE HUXTING-riELD.

I admire his courage^ yet hold his death as the
ordinary fate of warfare. We can see a brave
fellow cut down in mortal fray; but the shriek
or moan of a woman appals the stoutest heart.
I cannot but feel^ in hare-hunting, I am pursuing
an animal that has no means of defence against
its destroyer. Cut her up by a shot, and the
thing is over ; even in a course, it is so short, we
kill her while in full vigour ; but the reeling gait
of a tired hare annoys me. There is no devihy
in it ; and without a spice of that, most things I
hold as tame. I really admire hare-hunting, but
I never could be a hare-hunter.

" Well," said I, " as we have given our nags a
breathing for to-morrow, what do you say to
home and luncheon ? After that I have bespoke
a little fun for you; of a new kind, perhaps, to
you."

"Whatever you like," courteously said my
guest.

" Well then,''' said I, " we wdll do the amiable
to the master and men, and then get homewards."
" Loak ! loak !" w^as going old Mullins, trying for
another hare, when we popped half-a-crown each
into his hand, and my friend conciliated Sam by
the same token. " Allow me," said I, addressing
the Master, "to express my own and friend^s
regrets that we have an engagement that obliges
us to leave you, thanking you for as real a speci-

A VERSATILE GENIUS. 185

men of hunting as could be seen/^ The Master
made a complimentary reply, moved his hat, and
we moved oft'.

On reaching home, " Is Jack come ? '^ said I to
a strapper that I had for three or four seasons
engaged for six months each year.

'' Yes, sir."

"And brought the materials ? " said I.

" All right, sir," says the fellow, grinning with
delight from ear to ear.

Ben was too much of a character not to be
introduced to my reader. " He had been brought
up in a racing stable, and till he was fifteen was
very small and light. At that age he knew as
much as many old men, and consequently rode
light w^eights for the stable. All at once he
increased in height and size, so as to be useless in
a racing stable: he was then employed in livery
stables. At twenty he was thirteen stone. He
has been everything; has fought several minor
pitched battles ; is a wrestler, dog-fancier, a capital
shot; has been a coachman, guard, colt-breaker,
and ostler at inns. He has various accomplish-
ments of rather a singular description : eases his
companions of their loose cash, when he can, at
thimble-rig, pricking in the garter, and cards ;
has all the notes of Punch in perfection, turns a
somersault, and drinks a quart of ale standing on
his head. With all this, and I dare say other

18G THE HUNTING-FIELD.

tricks he does not choose to show here, he is a
civil, willing fellow, and as a strapper can do two
ordinary men^s work. I never had reason to find
fault with him but once, when I detected him
making one of my horses lie down in his box,
which he had taught him to do when he made
some signal to him. He and Jack, whom you will
see presently, are old friends, and, I strongly sus-
pect, make summer campaigns together, probably
to fairs and races; they keep, however, their
mutual secret : he answers my purpose, and you
will see him shortly in his glory."

Young Roberts and a friend of his came, as I
had asked them, to lunch. This ended, we sum-
moned Messrs. Jack and Ben to our presence.
Jack was a tall, loose-made, big-proportioned, fel-
low, with a good-humoured countenance, strongly
favouring gipsy origin; a green velveteen shoot-
ing coat, with pockets of all sizes, into and out
of which, no doubt, many odd things went and
came; at his back hung a square hamper-like
basket, supported by a stick on his shoulder, that
no doubt, on emergency. Jack could use with
dexterity and effect.

"Well, Jack," said I, "have you got the
varmint ? "

" All right, master, and all ready, " says Jack.

"Now, Ben," said I, "fetch the dogs."

Ben returned with my three terriers.

QUAINT. 187

" Well, they are nice uns/^ said Jack ; " but
I'll show you two beauties/' pulling from his
pocket a little pied dog of perhaps eight pounds
weight.

"Will he kill a rat ? " said my guest.

Jack gave a smile not to be described. " I
dare say he'd try, sir, '^ said he; "but here's what
I call my wonder/' said he, pulling by the ear
out of the other pocket a far smaller black and
tan.

"I suppose," said my friend, "it would be a
hard fight between him and a rat ? "

"Werry,'^ replied Jack, with another of his
smiles, " and lasts a werry long time."

" Ten minutes, perhaps ? " said my guest.

" Not quite," replied Jack.

" Do you want to sell him ? "

" Why, as to that, sir, I sells anything ; every-
thing has its price."

" You for one, I suppose. Jack ? " said I.

"Why, you're not much out there, master,"
said he, with a sly look; "that is, for anything
in a hordinary way."

" What do you want for the little dog ? " said
my friend.

" Only three suvs to you, sir."

" Would he kill a rat in five minutes ? " said
my friend.

"ini tell you what I'll do," replied Jack;

188 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

"put down five suvs agin the tyke; if lie don't
kill five rats in half that time^ he's yourn for
nothing ; if he does^ the suvs be mine in course/'

" You had better not/' said I to my guest ;
but he had said done^ so Jack slyly said, " Too
late, master, a bet's a bet in all honour."

We now repaired to the granary, where a
vacant bin was the field of action. Jack drew
from the basket a wire cage, that fitted inside it,
in which w^ere perhaps five-and-twenty rats.
Jack, without any apparent caution, thrust his
hand in at the top and brought one out, held in a
peculiar manner, so as to prevent his turning his
head, and put him into the bin; he thus caught
four. The fifth, a fine old grey fellow, made an
attempt to turn and bite. " Would ye,'^ said Jack,
giving him a squeeze with his thumb that made
the rat's eyes nearly start from their sockets, and
among the rest he went. Jack held the little
dog on the edge of the bin, struggling, and fairly
screeching with impatience.

" Now, master," says Jack, " you keep time ;
I'll trust to your honour. Say when^s the time,
master."

I waited till the seconds hand of my watch
was on the unit point : " Now," said I.

He slid the dog down. Not a sound was now
heard : he took each rat in the right place, gave
him one craunch and a shake, threw him doA^-n,

RATTING (not IN PARLIAMENT). 189

and seized another ; under three minutes the rats
were dead enough.

"I wish you luck with him, sir/' said Jack;
" he's a pretty good un among worser/'

Whether this spice of fun was new to my
friend, I know not, but he offered a challenge to
every and all the dogs in England to kill rats
against his new purchase.

" Why, Lord \o\e ye/' says Jack, " I showed
you that ere dog as a beauty ; I don't call him a
ratter."

" Show me the dog that can beat him," said
my friend ; " here's ten pound on it."

" Take him," said Jack, in his warmth of, I
suppose, friendship to me, giving me a somewhat
unceremonious dig with his elbow.

" Put up your ten pounds," said I, " and bet
ten shillings with Jack ; for I must not have my
tykes disparaged. Put ten rats in the pit. Jack,"
said I, " and we'll give Tory a chance."
Under three minutes not a rat sliook a lesr.
'^ Come," said I, " there's a lesson for you in
this sport, as well as in hunting. My dogs, as
you see, kill rats, but they are only half rat-
killers ; you will learn something more by a visit
to Denmark Street or Bunhill Row."

It was now near dinner time; my visitors
could not stay, but we insured meeting at Rus-
sington Gorse on the morrow.

190

CHAP. VII.

Peculiarities. — Hints ou Leaping. — Armed for either Field. —
A Bargain. — Going further to fare worse. — A pleasant Ac-
quaintance. — Biding the Time. — Monsieur Tonson again.—
Adieu.

" That old Mullins/' said my friend (wlien we
were alone), "is most certainly a curious fellow :
do you call him a good rider ? ''

'' Notliing bordering on it/' said I, " and but
few huntsmen to harriers are, while many hunts-
men and whips to fox-hounds are first-rate in this
particular : and why they are so arises from various
causes ; in the first place, though all hounds re-
quire attention, fox-hounds do not require that
unremitting attention that hare-hounds do; the
scent of the fox is stronger ; he runs beyond all
comparison straighter ; for if even, as is sometimes
the case, he gets back to Avhere he was found, or
near it, he does this as it were octagonally ; he
runs straight from point to point ; he is, we know,
as wily as the hare, but he does not show it in
the same Avay in running; he does not have
recourse to her dodges and doublings, nor does he
run foil near so much. The huntsman to a pack

PECULIARITIES. 191

of barriers must never take his eyes off their
^Yorking^ or, in case of a check, he will not know
what to do. Fox-hounds run to a far greater
certainty, so a huntsman has opportunity to attend
to his riding and his horse. The hare-hunting
huntsmen, thinking only of their game and hounds,
usually get into one of two faults, — they either
bore at their horse's mouth to assist themselves
in a loose and careless seat, till the animal has no
more mouth than a pig ; or they leave him to
himself, without regard to ground, or how he is
going on it : those few who ride well make the
handiest hunters in the world of their horses : for
instance, Mr. Davis, who hunted the king's
harriers ; his two hunters were as perfect as cats
at fencing : but we must recollect he was a man
of no ordinary head or manners : true, he was a
huntsman, but he was a king's huntsman, and a
man very superior to even that situation. Now,
as regards old Mullins, or any man like him, I
only told you he was an extraordinary and bold
rider in a particular way, though, in justice to
him, I believe he would ride bold anywhere : he
has two great camels of horses, far too big to be
good for any hunting purpose but his. He has
ridden each for years ; he knows them, and they
him; he has accustomed them to take care of
themselves; so they do, and of him also. He
puts them at most things in a stand, and when

192 THE IIUNTING-FIELI).

they raise tliemselves, wliat is a gate to otlier
horses, is a stile in height to them/^

"Then/^ said my friend, ^^ great height must
be a great advantage in a hunter. "

" If he had nothing to do but take standing
jumps, no doubt the bigger the better; but spring
is the great thing in a flying leaper ; and so far as
galloping goes, though length of stride tells with
the racer for a mile and a half, fifteen, two, or
three is in my humble opinion the true lasting
galloping height for the generality of countries or
even courses, if of a long length. In riding at
the brook, as you saw Mullins do to-day in a
most unworkmanlike way, it mattered little with
him ; for, I dare say, his horse, since he rode him,
has jumped that brook a hundred times, so he
knows what to be at : but ride the generality of
long-striding horses like him at the same place, in
the same way, the consequence would be, from
want of shortening their stride in coming to it,
they would take off five or six feet further from
the bank than necessary, thus making fifteen feet
twenty-one, and in proportion as might be the
width of water.

"There are three leaps that many bold and
good riders like least of any, namely, timber,
water, and walls. Without pretending to equal
such riders, I object to neither, provided your
horse is fresh and knows his business. I consider

DOING PRETTY WELL ^' FOR GALWAY/^ 193

an ordinary gate a very safe jump, the taking off
is usually firm, a horse can measure his leap ac-
curately, and it is not as high as the usual fences
we ride at. Water, I am aware, most horses
very much dislike, and it is very apt to produce
a baulk; so far I dislike it: but, in a general way,
its worst effect is a souse, unless your horse jumps
short, when a sprained back is often the result.
Walls I hold one of the safest leaps we can ride
at ; you, and your horse, can measure them to a
nicety : a few stones displaced seldom brings on a
fall, and a brick and mortar wall is seldom or
ever met with in hunting. If I met such an one,
I am free to confess I should decline such an
encounter. This reminds me of a circumstance
that occurred to me in the county of Galway, in
Ireland. A friend had mounted me on his best
horse, hounds were running hard, a wall Avas
before me; no joke of a wall, no low Somerset
or Oxfordshire one, but a regular Galway poser.
There it stood to be looked at, but not looked
over : to my left I heard stones, and saw a horse-
man or two go over where the wall was lower.
I was pulling up my horse, intending to follow
in their track: ^ Go along, ye divil, and don't
disgrace my horse !' shouted the well-known voice
of my friend near me. ' Here goes, then,' said I,
trying to persuade myself I felt no fear, and
using, contrary to my usual wont, strong ' Latch-
o

194 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

ford persuasion ' to my liorse. Uattling right and
left, forward and backwards, fell the stones, and
the honest Galway crack landed me, really with
no great effort so far as I could feel, on the other
side. Over came my friend, a thirteen stone
man, on a much smaller horse than the one I was
riding. Being safe, I felt for the honour of my
country from the hesitation I had shown; but
excuse me, brother sportsman, it was my first day
in Galway — a situation of no small trial, as
better horsemen, and braver men by far, I trust
will allow.

"This said wall not being more than a mile
from my friend's house, I privately measured next
day: from the spot from whence the horse's fore-
feet had risen to the top stone, taking a level from
those not displaced, was the v/idth of my hand
less than six feet ; this, I am quite sure, he had
cleared with his knees, but the chasm he had made
by some of his feet or legs had reduced it nearly a
foot. I never cared two-pence for a wall after-
wards, save and except brick or stones and mortar;
such, I confess, I ever most religiously eschewed,
unless very low ones.

" The chief, indeed only, danger in timber
leaping is a horse breasting it, or not raising his
knees hi^^h enough : when this is the case, unless
it breaks, a fearful somersault is the usual result :
but this, if a horse knows his business, mostly

SAUVE QUI PEUT. 195

arises from the error or foolharcliness of the rider.
Allow me, therefore, to give two rules never to
be departed from, unless it might be in a cause of
life or death, as in the case of a friend of mine.
He, fully accoutred, put his charger at top speed
at an awfully high and massive timber fence, and
cleared it into an orchard; but three French lancers
at a man's heels is a hint we do not get unless
hunted instead of hunting-. Never ride a beaten
horse at timber of any importance, and never ride
any horse at it fast. If it is so slight that you
know it will easily break, it may be done without
danger: but even then I hold it a bad practice,
for if a horse breaks it without hurting himself, it
will probably induce him to try the same thing,
when failing in the breakage of timber would pro-
bably produce that of neck, back, or bones.

" The great reasons why horses should not be
ridden fast at timber are, it does not give them
time to measure its height ; it does not give them
time to measure their stroke, so as to take off at
the proper distance; they get too close to it to
rise properly, or they take off so far from it as
to render their clearing it hazardous, and, at best,
a very great exertion; but, worse than all, when
going with great velocity, a horse cannot rise to
any considerable height.

"The ordinary run of stiles, though lower, I
consider far more dangerous than a moderate gate

19G THE HUNTING-FIELD.

or post and rail. Stiles are rarely to be broken ;
not being bigli, horses are more careless at them.
Gates or higli rails more alarm them ; but, worse
still, stiles are often in cramped situations, and the
taking off, or landing, or both, is on puzzling
ground, such as a narrow footpath, and one side or
the other is often a ditch, and narrow plank for
foot-passengers ; this must be cleared, or an awful
fall is the almost sure consequence.

" Double post and rails require a horse that
knows his business well : if they are pretty close
together, they may be taken at a swing, and not
being high, may be ridden at fast, in order to get
sufficient impetus for the effort: but if to be
taken ' in and out,' they must be ridden at lei-
surely, otherwise, in clearing the first flight, your
horse gets so close to the second he cannot rise,
and down he comes over them. I had one horse
so clever at this, that if they were very narrow
between, and he at all blown, he woidd take the
first so obUquely as for an instant to stand all but
side by side between both, then throwing himself
with a kind of twist over the second. But on a
tired horse, narrow post and rails are very
hazardous ; he cannot take them at once, and he
must collect his legs very close to have room to
do them at twice ; and they are still worse if the
ground between is hog-backed, or treacherous foot-
hold.

HORSES THE FASTEST FERRYMEN. 197

" Water-jumping is effected on quite a different
plan. Figuratively speaking, we cannot ride too
fast at wide water, and for these reasons: horses
do not take it willingly^, at least but few do, and
unless ridden very freely at it are apt to refuse;
but as a reason more important than this, we want
a strong impetus to carry a horse over wide
water, and the faster we go at it the less elevation
he will make in his jump ; a horse should skim
water like an oyster-shell from a boy's hand : the
cannon-ball being impelled by a foreign power,
requires a certain elevation to go a given distance;
but an animal being impelled by his oivn powers,
wastes that in height that is wanted for width.
We do occasionally meet with horses apt to refuse
wide water from timidity only; such, if driven
too forcibly at it, become more alarmed still, and
will, under such circumstances, refuse to a cer-
tainty; such must be coaxed up to it, making
the pace as good as we can at the same time.
Very timid horses, however, seldom make very
brilliant leapers at anything. We should observe
one thing, however, in riding at water, let the
pace be ever so great : collect your horse before
coming to it ; never let him, as it were, stride up
to it ; or he will not take off in the right place ;
and if the taking off is at all rotten, he will pro-
bably flounder into it, or not clear it : if I may
use a figurative term, 'spin' him up to it well
o 3

198 THE HUXTING-FIELD.

primed and collected; you cannot in usual cases,
if you do tliis, go too fast at water/^

My friend and myself went to next day's fix-
ture. On tlie hounds being thrown into a cover,
^' Come along/' said I, " we will get in/' and,
opening a bridle- gate, I walked my horse a hun-
dred yards up a ride. '' Let us stop here," said
I, " till the hounds have drawn past us ; we can
then take a ride to the left, that runs up the
middle of the cover."

" Why," said my friend, " do you get into this
cover, when the last time we were out you re-
mained outside all the time the hounds w^ere
drawing and w^ere running their fox ? "

" For several reasons," said I, " which I dare
say I shall have time to explain. The cover
where we found our last fox was not more than
perhaps twenty acres; it is so thick that more
time would be lost in getting half-way through it
than in making its whole circuit, if we had wanted
to do so. From its small size, whichever way a
fox broke, we could hear of it, and could get
round by the time the hounds could get out of
cover : from that part of the country there is no
particular point that foxes, in a general way,
make to; so they are influenced in that particular
by circumstances : we w^ere down wind, so, unless
we had found a fox who had come from some
distant country, there was little chance of his

199

going away in an opposite direction to where we
waited. Now this cover is fully a hundred acres ;
there are bridleways in all directions ; even where
there are none, it can be easily got through, and
the fence out of it can be jumped at any point :
should we be on the side opposite to where a fox
might go off, we could hardly catch such hoimds
as these. But there is another reason why we
should be where we can command the hounds :
there are some very strong fox-earths at Dornton
Wood, some five miles from here, to which foxes
often make ; and I have seen them make for this
favourite point when it was directly up-wind to
get there ; for, let me tell you, a fox will at times
face a hurricane to make his point. I have seen
one defy a whipper-in to turn him: he would, in
certain cases, be ridden over before he would be
driven from his line. Under these circumstances,
I wish to be prepared to get a place, let the break
be from where it will ; but see, the blaster is
waiting in cover also, and a great part of the field
behind him, so I trust I have not led you wrong.
Hark ! by George ! that^s a view. They turn
short to the right, clap up that ride, they are too
close to him to allow him to make his toilet — he
won^t stop to even change his slippers.^^

A loud shout outside the cover told us Charley
was '' over the border.^^

" Come along," said I to my friend, ^^ Ave^re

O 4

200 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

allright/^ At the end of the ride three moveable
rails led out of the cover ; now the moving of rails,
though quite excusable and prudent in getting
into a cover, is a slow way of getting out. My
nag did them neatly, ditto my friend^s.

" Twoo, twoo, twoo/^ went the Huntsman^s
horn, for the benefit of the tail hounds.

" Hark forward, hoik ! " cries the Second Whip,
his thong echoing all round the cover.

" Where is the First Whip going at such a
pace ? '' said my friend.

'^ Why, there^s an earth in that cover you see
half a mile off; it's a nasty place to get to, so he
is making for it to give pug a hint to take another
line. Now he has stopped his horse, the leading
hounds have turned to the right ; he is now trot-
ting to come into his place ; we have a beautiful
country before us."

(( We're in luck,'' said T ; " Charley has given
us a turn."

" Just look back. There come the field, who
by chance had not got off in so good a place
as ourselves."

Close behind us came young Roberts, his
thorough-bred old mare making play at thirty
miles an hour.

" Take the next fence a little oblique to the
right," cried I, doing the same. '' Well saved,"
said I, my friend's horse hitting it hard.

201

The country was now grass, tlie pace too good
to let the field do more than hold their place with
a good deal of tailing to boot.

" Keep his head straight/^ said I to my friend
nearing the next fence, " and spin him at it ;
there^s a yawner toother side/^

Over we went, onr horses taking it abreast.
" Come np," cries Roberts, not a length behind,
giving the old mare a lift, who, with her nostrils
somewhat of the widest from catching us, was yet
going like a bird. " Go it, ye cripple,^' cries he,
giving his mare a pat on the neck, and a slight
scientific pull to ease her.

The country was now just what all countries
should be, the scent lying breast high.

'' Hold hard, gentlemen," cried the Huntsman,
the leading hound beginning to feather right and
left. He caught it again. I could not help one
" Yoi, at him, Stormer ! " as the hound went
streaming away.

My friend went like a trump; we had had about
fifteen minutes without a check. The hounds
were now going a terrible pace, down a long hill in
a pasture, — " Now for the timber jumpers," said
I, pulling my horse almost into a canter at a stifi'
post and rail on a bank. Roberts did the same.
My friend passed between us, and as our horses
took it abreast, over went my friend in advance,
a most '' royal crowner," into the next field.

202 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

'' Are you hurt ? " cried I and Roberts, pulling
up.

" No/^ said my friend.

"Tlien/^ cried I, as Wellington said, "Up boys,
and at 'em V^

Off went Roberts.

" Come," said I, " you are longer getting up
than getting down ; never mind your stirrup, put
it on as you go.''

The hounds were now a field a-head, we put on
the steam. " Tally-ho ! " said I, passing my
friend. The hounds threw up a minute in a
small fox-gorse cover ; at something rushed Abe-
lard ; the crash was like that of a brass band ;
poor Charley just showed for a moment, and
whoo-whoop told the straggling field they need
not hurry themselves.

'^ A dog-fox, my lord,'' said the Huntsman to
the Master, who had just come up on his second
horse.

" And he," shaking his tail most energetically,
" rather a fast thing, gentlemen," said the ]\Iaster,
with that urbanity inseparable from high breeding.
" At least," added he laughing, " I found it so."

" Just twenty-eight minutes, my lord," said
I. " I'll tell you what, Roberts," said T, " when
your mare dies, if you will give me her head, I'll
have it properly prepared, and have a glass case
made to keep it in. She is true to the blood of
the Filhos."

CARRIED NEM. CON. 203

" At all events/^ said he, bowing to my friend,
^' her breeding is high enough to induce her to do
her best to keep in good company/^

" A very choice thing, sir," said I to the dis-
tiller, well knowing he had seen little of it.

^^ Rather so," said he, looking as amiable as if
one of his customers^ acceptances had been re-
turned on his hand.

"^Yill says he means to draw Walford for a
second fox," said Roberts. " I hate that stick-in-
the-mud place. Fm off."

"What would you like ?" said I to my friend.
" I am quite at your disposal, though I think,
like my friend, the place they are going to de-
testable."

" I vote, then, for home," said my friend, " and
a chat over the day^s hunting."

" Agreed," said I ; " for as my wife will return
home in a day or two, we will make the most of
our time for such matters during her absence; for,
excepting in your particular case, I always banish
horses and dogs, as subjects of conversation, after
w^e have done with them as our morning amuse-
ment."

" Before I ask you any questions as to our
day^s proceedings, I want to buy the horse you
rode to-day ; or, as you say you think very highly
of the one I rode, can^t we manage a swap?"
demanded mv friend.

20i THE HUNTING-FIELD.

'^ I think I know why you want mine/^ said
I, " so you may as well tell me."

" I want him^ then," said he^ ^' from his being
so uncommonly fast."

" You allude/^ said !_, smiling, " to my going
away from you after your fall. Now I will ex-
plain this, which will perhaps save you from
giving, at some time or other perhaps, an exor-
bitant price for some horse that may not be
worth it. We had, from your mishap, got a
field in the rear. I viewed the fox into the
gorse, saw he Avas dead beat, so rather uncere-
moniously gave you the go-by ; I could have
done this at any moment during the day. This
merely shows that my horse could beat yours in
a race, but is by no means an incontestable proof
that as a hunter he can get over a country faster
than yours. He has those powers of increased
speed, for a short distance, that wins a race, and
it seems has captivated you ; but recollect that
such speed could only last for a field or so. A
slow hunter I detest, because he is always at
his best, which must always distress both horse
and rider; but your horse is very fast. The
little spurt I made was not absolutely necessary,
it was merely a little bit of pride to be up at the
moment the fox was run into. Your horse is as
nearly thorough-bred as one not quite so can be,
and is, I should say, fast enough to win a hunter's

PATIENTIA DOCET. 205

stake ; but^ let me tell you, my horse was in the
Derby, and ran very forward, though not placed.
He afterwards won a couple of very good stakes.
In doing the last he was severely punished ; from
that time he turned both savage and sulky, could
scarcely be got to start, and when he did would
not run. They threw him out of work for that
season, tried him the next, found him just as bad.
He was then tried as a gelding ; he left off his
savage propensities, but was as sulky as ever in
running. If he was punished for it, he would
stop at once and kick ; in short, as a race-horse,
was not worth a farthing. I bought him for
fifty pounds, and, by patience and coaxing, have
made him, as you see, a very perfect and, as he
is considered to be, very superior hunter. I have
refused a large price for him ; but put any incon-
siderate or hasty tempered man on him, they
would not agree for a day. I never strike him
severely vriih either whip or spur; he does not
require it ; but even if he did, he would not bear
it; so you see, if you gave me two hundred for
him, and I have been offered that, you would not
get a better horse than your own, though in
racing capability a faster one. If it were left to
me to value the two horses between friends, I
should value mine at less than yours. They are
equdly good as hunters, and yours can carry a
stone more weight.^^

206 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

" I gave/' said my guest, '^ a hundred and fifty
guineas for my liorse, or at least your friend did
for me/'

" And I consider liim worth more money to
any man to-morrow, if he wants a fine horse and
good hnnter/' said I.

'^ But/' added my friend, " I consider your
horse as good as given to you."

" That is more than his owner did, I can tell
you," said I, " for he jokingly wished me ^ joy of
my bargain ; ' but then, recollect, he was a mere
turf man, and possibly thought I was fool enough
to buy the horse intending to run him. This
shows you how much the value of horses depends
on their being placed in situations for wdiich their
qualities fit them. I gave quite as much as he
was worth at the time. He had only as recom-
mendations good size, good looks, and action, and
is of the best running blood (in stable phrase),
' both sides of his head,' in the kingdom. To set
against that, he was only rising five, not the best
of tempers, at times restive, and Avould not jump
a potato trench. His fasliionable blood was of
no use to him as a gelding, and as a hunter,
whether a horse is by (we will say) Lanercost
at twenty-five guineas, or Lanncelot at eight, is
no great matter : very likely the latter might get
the best hunters ; for, let it l)e remembered, that
supposing a horse to be winner of the Derby

A BARGAIN. 207

Ledger, two tliousand guineas, &c., he is a su-
perior speedy and stout race-liorse for such dis-
tances ; but after going fifteen minutes across
country, might very possibly show himself as rank
a cur as ever went under a saddle ; few horses
"will cur it till in distress, more or less. The dif-
ference between a stout or weak horse is there-
fore, how soon, in accordance with the pace, dis-
tress begins. Racing stoutness is so very different
to the same quality in a hunter, that we can
judge very little indeed of what sort of hunter a
horse will turn out from his blood, unless where a
thorough-bred horse has shown his stock to be
good as hunters ; and of late years, when long
lengths have become almost exploded, the winner
of races is a far more uncertain sire to produce
hunters than he was when heats and four miles
were in vogue. Thus, you see, my horse at the
time he was bought was really no better bargain
than yours."

" I allow the justice of all you say," said my
friend, "but that little bit of extra speed flits
before my eyes at this moment. Come, 1^11 give
fifty for it, that is, fifty between the horses."

(( Very well,'' said I ; "as you now know all
about my horse you shall have him."

"I dare say," said my friend, "you will pick
up such another bargain as you did in the horse
I have bousfht."

208 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

" I do not tliink that at all unlikely/^ said I
laughing. ^^I do poke a horse out of queer
corners sometimes, though I never buy ^ three-
cornered horses.' I hate an ugly one, or common-
bred looking beast.^'

" Now/' said he, '' this being over, I want to
know why you told me to take that hedge and
ditch diagonally, when I have heard you say
horses cannot go too straight at fences?''

" There are not at present half-a-dozen fences
in this country," said I, ^4ike the one in question;
but I have hunted where they are common ; and
the man who has taken that farm comes from such
country. That hedge," said I, "is chiefly a live
one; before he came, it was a regular ^bullfincher;'
the bottom growth of the thorns as big as a
man's arm or leg. He has cut these partly
through, at perhaps two foot and a half from the
bottom ; the upper part is laid down all one way ;
if your horse took this in the least diagonally
towards the growing i^art, and hit it, it w^ould no
more give way than the strongest gate that ever was
made, and down you must come. Or if you take
such a fence straight and hit it, the force of the
horse is not sufficient to draw the branch from its
position: but taken diagonally towards the smaller
and brushy end of the hedging, if you hit it, it
yields, goes with your horse as it were, and he
figuratively slides over it. Taking any fence

YET. 209

diagonally, of course increases tlie IcDgtli of the
leap, yet that is better than jumping directly
towards a kind of living post, instead of away
from it ; but I know of no other fence that should
be thus ridden at or taken/^

^' Resolved most satisfactorily/' said my friend;
" but I think I have you a little on the hip on
one point."

" Very likely you have/' said I ; " then pray
throw me over.''

" You told me the other day that I blew my
bay from riding him over a ridge and furrow
field, instead of up a headland ; now I saw you
to-day, to use a term of your own, ' spin ' yours
across such another ridge and furrow^ like fun."

" You did," said I; ^'^but I was not on a horse
half blow^n; and again there is a vast deal of
difference in ridge and furrow, not merely as to
the firmness of the ridge but also as to its width ;
there is a particular width that enables your
horse to land on each ridge in his stride, so the
furrow • does not interfere with his going ; he
comparatively goes on level ground, so long as he
goes, or is held to an even length of stride. I
cut ofi* a considerable distance by crossing w^here
I did j you made a kind of circuit ; and such was
the kind of ground, that your horse's fore-feet
in one stroke came on to the ridge, the next in
the furrow^; you must have felt this, should have
p

210 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

turned him^ and gone straight np instead of
across^ in doing which you should take the crown
of each ridge or the furrow, whichever you find
the firmest. I hope I have now excused what I
did. And now/' said I, "let me compliment
you on your seat and hands ; you are really a
good horseman. You only want to study cross-
country navigation; this, practice will teach."

" Particularly/' said my guest, good-humour-
edly, " when it is tangible practice, as in the case
of the post and rails to-day ; was that my fault or
the horse's ? "

" Most unquestionably yours," said I, " and
one, I dare say, you will never repeat. You saw
the rails were not such .as to give way, conse-
quently required to be done clean. It is, as I
have said, in most cases unsafe to ride fast at stiif
timber. The only case where I consider it allow-
able is when the beat to it is up hill ; here a little
extra impetus is wanted, and in going up hill
horses will shorten their stride of their own
accord. Going down hill at a high jump is always
unfavourable ; but going down hill, and fast too,
makes it all but impossible for a horse to rise.
You saw Roberts catch hold of his mare and
slacken her pace, before he came to it ] you could
not have had a better guide than he ; you saw
me, whom, you are pleased to consult, do the same ;
but you 'rushed like a torrent down the vale.'

211

However, we must allow you were the first over ;
this might not have happened on an old cunning
horse, he would very likely have slackened his
pace himself, or if you had so driven him that he
could not, he Avould very likely have refused,
rather than attempt what he would have felt he
could not do. Your horse, having had less ex-
perience, and possibly never a fall before under
similar circumstances, tried that which he could
not accomplish ; it will do him good ; he will be a
better judge next time.

" To-morrow,^^ said I, " with your consent, I
wish to show you another pack ; it is one that
has only a couple of fixtures within reasonable
reach of me, and even then I very rarely join
them ; I admire neither master, men, hounds, nor
field. We will send the horses on to-night, for it
is sixteen miles oflp. I should not take you
there now, but that the foxes they find there
mostly belong to, or at all events take towards,
this part of the country, and are killed nearer
here than they are found.

" These hounds hunt a good but somewhat
rough country, which quite suits those who hunt
with them. The master piques himself on being
not only a MDruising rider,^ but a bruiser also,
and is not very particular as to language if au}^
thing offends him; he keeps a large stud, has
always a couple of second horses out for himself

F 2

212 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

or his huntsman on emergency ; his men are, as
you may guess, something like himself; his
hounds are something the same, a little, and not
a little, inclined to riot ; there is more hallooing,
whooping, and rating with these hounds in a
week, than is heard with those you have seen in
a season; the master half hunts them himself, a
system quite calculated to confuse and spoil any
pack. If a master knows his hounds well enough,
and they know him, and he likes to occasionally
hunt them himself in a choice country, if master
and man hunt them in the same way, no great
harm may arise ; or if, in the temporary absence
of the huntsman, the master takes his place till he
comes up, well and good; hut one huntsman a
day is quite enough, and, with all submission I
say it, with these hounds sometimes too much,
for I feel quite sure they would often do better if
left more alone. They kill a vast number of
foxes during the season, or at all events mob them
to death ; for a greater number of noses on the
kennel doors than other packs show, seems the
great pride of the hunt. Of course there are a
number of gentlemen hunt with them ; they have
also a rather unusual number of wealthy farmers
and their sons, some of the latter sporting pink ;
they are substantial men, a rough and ready lot
of course, and the master and they stand upon
very little ceremony ; the former raps out, not

A PLEASANT ACQUAINTANCE. 213

merely an oatli, but a volley of tliem if they over-
ride liis hounds ; when he does this, they return
it, and tell him to his face ^ they are as good as
he/ and in half an hour afterwards are as good
friends as ever. The gentlemen of the hunt are
careful not to expose themselves to this. They
are field acquaintances with him, leave their cards
at his really princely mansion two or three times
in the year, accept his invitation to a fox-hunting
dinner during the season, and give him the same
in return, at both of which he is about as noisy
and a far greater nuisance than when with his
hounds. In this truly gentlemanly and enviable
Avay he spends his very large fortune, a tolerably
illustrative specimen of the justness of repre-
senting Fortune as blind. ^^

The next morning we were at the fixtm^e, the
Master had not arrived. The Huntsman here,
instead of keeping by himself and his hounds
round him, as was the case with the other pack,
was surrounded by several young farmers with
whom he was indulging in hilarity anything but
respectful to the general field ; his Whips were
between him and the cover, watchful that no
hounds broke away, and every now and then a
rate indicated that some of them showed symptoms
of such intention. After keeping the field waiting
a considerable time, the Master came up, and,
without the slightest expression of apology or

P 3

21-1 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

noticing his field, ^ Put ^em in, Jack," showed
by the command he was a M.F.H., though his
bearing might have led to doubts of such being
his position. The Whips went to the right and
left, and, on the Huntsman moving his horse,
in rushed the pack. They had not been in the
cover five minutes before a hound, not merely
'' threw a tongue,^' but opened in right earnest.
Oh that detestable half rate from the Huntsman,
" Soft lay ; have a care, Jezebel," I hate it " as
reek o' the rotten fens." The First Whip was in
cover, with the Huntsman close to him. " Yow,
yow, yow, yow," cries a young hound in that
kind of cur-like note I hate to hear in a fox-
hound; and, worse than all, " Ware hare. Doubt-
ful, eh ! " cries the Whip, his thong sounding in
echoes far and wide ; and, directly afterwards,
" camamile, camamile," as a beginning, and " pen
an ink, pen an ink," as an ending, showed the
thong well laid in had reached the scut-hunting
culprit. Shortly, " 'Tally ho ! " sounded from the
top of the cover. '• Hark forward, hark ! " cries
(most improperly) the Whip, who should never
presume to give such halloo till sanctioned by
the voice or horn of the Huntsman. " Tally ho ! "
comes on our ears, shortly afterwards, nearer to
us. " Tally ho, away ! " cries another voice to
the left.

'^ What are we to do ?" said mv friend.

BIDING THE TIME. 215

'^ Upon my word/^ said I^ "I am just in the
dilemma Peter Pindar represents Whitbread on
George tlie Third asking him half-a-dozen ques-
tions at a time^ namely^ not exactly knowing what
to attend to first. We^ll wait till we can get
something authentic to act upon."

'^ Twhoo, twhoo_, twlioo/^ goes the Master's horn.
" Come along/' said I, hearing this^ " we're in
luck; he has gone away towards our country."
Illfated prophet that I was. '' Tally ho, back !"
cries the Master.

Crash through the cover comes the Huntsman
with the body of the hounds, two or three couple
feathering outside, " Here, here, boick ! whoo,
whoo, whoo !" cries he, capping his hounds into
a ride in the middle of the cover. Presently
such a crash met our ears. "A view," said I.
In a second all was silent. " He has made a
short dodge," said I. All was now still for
several minutes, rather an unusual circumstance
in such a hunt. A most scientific, not-to-be-
misunderstood " Tailly ho, away ! " roused us.
" Gone, for a hundred," said I and the hunted
fox too — the prayers of the wicked are oftener
heard than those of the deserving. "Let him
keep straight, we have a fine country to cross,
and towards home too" — a comfortable circum-
stance this, even to a fox-hunter. AVe had
p 4

216 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

scarcely joined the sportsman who had given the
halloo before the hounds came np, and passed us
like shadows.

" Come along," said this excellent sportsman,
who only joined these hounds when he could
not get four days a week with the hunt he be-
longed to, — " Come along, Ave shall just do the
trick."

" ' Now/ quoted I —

— * Contract,' says Dick ;

'These d d Quornites shall now see the trick.' "

Slipping off, as we had by good luck done, and
the hounds going like demons let loose, it was no
wonder we were not caught by the field, for this
pack, riotous as it was, consisted of as fine chace
hounds as any in the kingdom ; the fault was in
their management. In a general sense of the
term all hounds are good enough if the men who
hunt them are good enough also. Charley had
been so hallooM, headed, and badgered in covert,
that he Avas half frightened to death before he
really could break; but he gave us twenty minutes
of as fast a thing as I ever saw. They ran into
him in a large field.

" We^ll give them a cheer," said our pilot, " and
than I shall be off, before we hear observations that
you know," said he, looking towards me, "may not

be pleasant ; for I dare say S Avill not be in

the most amiable of tempers."

MONSIEUR TONSON AGAIN. 217

Our pilot gave a rattling whoo-lioop, and tlie
Huntsman coming up, we took the liint given us
and rode off together.

We had not proceeded a field's length before
*' How do ye do^^ caused me to turn round, and
who should trot up but our old friend, to whom
my readers of "Practical Horsemanship" have been
introduced, Mr. Jessamy. Jessy sported a new
pink, life-guard boots, a cap, and in his hand the
" whopper " of a hunting whip he formerly men-
tioned.

" Permit me," said I to my friends, " to intro-
duce to you a new star in our sporting hemi-
sphere, Mr. Jessamy." Jessy doffed his cap, my
friends moved their hats ; the one used his hand-
kerchief, the other stooped down and pretended
to lay hold of his curb chain ; I preserved my
gra^aty without doing either. " I did not see you
at cover side," said I, " or afterwards."

"Why," said Jessy, "I got into the middle of
that confounded cover, and could not get out till
the hounds had got over five or six fields, and all
the sportsmen were a long way before me."

" But why did you get into so large a cover as
a stranger ?"

" Oh ! " said Jessy, " a good sportsman always
keeps near his hounds."

"Did you?" said I.

" I could not," said Jessy, innocently, " when

2l5 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

tliey went off without me ; but afterwards didn't
I ^sliove' the grey along," said Jessy, working
his arms and legs to show how " shoving" should
be accomplished.

" I dare say you did." said I, ^' and, it seems,
shoved all the field before you."

'' I kept my place," said Jessy, " like a good un :
with all their trying they couldn't get away from
me except twice, when my horse fell at two
' raspers,^ and here's proof," said he, showing the
mud on one of his knees and his horse's nose.
'' I got up when they killed the fox, before they
left the place, I can tell you."

" Bravely done," said I ; " but how came so
keen a sportsman as you not to stay for the second
fox ? "

" I thought they were all going home," said
Jessy ; " but, besides that, the owner of the dogs
was very rude to me, so I should not have stayed
at any rate."

My friends winked at each other. " How did
that happen, Jessamy," inquired I.

" Why," said Jessy, " I came up such ^ a
buster^ to them, that, not seeing the hounds, I
rode bang amongst them. ^ Ware hounds, Avhere

the d are you coming ? ' most insolently said

the Huntsman. Three or four of the dogs set up
a howling. Up comes their Master. ' Who are

THE UNKINDEST CUT OF ALL. 219

you ?^ cries he ; ' youVe nearly killed two couples
of hounds/ — ' How could I help it/ said I ; ^ why
didn't they get out of the way ? I could not stop
my horse in a minute, could I ? ' ^ If you can^t
ride, what business have you with hounds ? I
wish you'd broke your neck/ said the same man.
— ^You're no gentleman/ said I ; '^ I can see that.'
^ I can see you're a fool/ said he, turning away ;
but I did not let him off so easy, but rode up to
him. ^I'll never hunt with you again,' said I,
' depend on that ; I'll go with another pack. I
tell you that.' I thought he looked a little mor-
tified, but I suppose he wasn't."

"Why," said I, "what did he say?"

" Said, a blackguard ; why, he said I might go
to h if I hked."

We could not help aU three laughing immo-
derately at Jessamy's day's sport and its finale.
In this he joined, probably conceiving the Master
had come off second best in their verbal encounter.

" The grey looks drawn a little fine," said I,
" for so early in the season."

" Oh ! " said Jessy, " he's in regular training, I
can tell you. I have another in as fine condition
as him. I have taken lodgings for the winter at
Croydon, to be near the Downs. I gallop them
twice every day, and didn't I give grey a sweater
yesterday."

220 THE HUNTING-FIELD.

" I sliould think lie often got one/' said I.

" So he does/^ said Jessy.

" But/^ replied I, " this is a long way from
Croydon. How came you to fix on these hounds ?"

" Oh ! " said Jessy^ " I heard they were such
^ clippers to go.^ I came up to London by the

rail^ and then took the other to . I am now

going back there.^'

" Going to /' said I ; " why, you're going

straight away from it.''

" Am I ? " said he. " A¥hich is the way ? "

" As straight back as you can go/' said I ; ^^ it
is about nine miles from where we are." We all
stopped to shake hands.

" Do you know/' said Jessy, " I think I shall
patronise the Queen's. I hear one does not get
so much cover work with them. I like going
along."

" If you do that/' said I, " tell Davis from me,
I know you ; and if his hounds don't go along,
you'll ride over them. He'll know what I mean."

'^ Thank you, I will," said Jessy, looking quite
knowing at the supposed compliment, and away
he galloped back.

Shortly after, my friend told me he must take
his leave on the npxt day.

" I am sorry for it," said I, " as, independent of
other reasons, I am proud of my pupil, for such

ADIEU. 221

you have been pleased to call yourself. All I
hope is^ that when abler tutors and brighter ex-
amples shall teach you to far eclipse my poor
doings, you Tvill again visit him "who gave you
the first glimpse of The Field.'^

THE end.

LONDON :

PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO.

NEW-STEEET- SQUAEE.

BOOKS ON RURAL SPORTS, &c.

BLAINE'S ENCYCLOPEDIA of RURAL

SPORTS. New Edition, corrected to the year 1859; with upwards of 600
AVoodcuts, including- 20 new subjects now added from orii^inal Designs bv
JOHN LEECH Svo. 42s.

Colonel HAWKEE'S ITs^STEUCTIO^StoTOUNa

SPORTSMEN in all that relates to GUNS and SHOOTING. Tenth Edition,
improved by the Author's Son; with numerous Illustrations Svo. 21s.

EECOEDS of tlie CHASE, nnd MEMOIES of

CELEBRATED SPORTSMEN. ByCECiL. With Two Plates. Fcp.Svo. 7s.6d.

HINTS on SHOOTING, PISHING, &c., both on

SEA and LAND, and in the FRESH-WATER LOCHS of SCOTLAND : Bein^
the Experiences of Christopher Idle, Esq Fcp. Svo. 5s.

STABLE PRACTICE ; or, Hints on Trainincr for

the Turf, the Chase, and the Road. By Cecil Fcp. Svo. 5s.

The POCKET and the STUD ; or, Practical Hints

on the Management of the Stable. By Harry Hieover. (Third Edi-
tion) Fcp. Svo. 5s,

The STUD PAPM ; or, Hints on Breeding Horses for

the Turf, the Chase, and the Road. By Cecil. {Second Edition.) Fcp. Svo. 5s.

The STUD for PEACTICAL PUEPOSES and

PRACTICAL MEN : A Guide to the Choice of a Horse for Use more than for
Show. By Harry Hieover. {Xeic Edition) Fcp. Svo. 5t;.

The HUNTING-EIELD. By Haery Hieoter,

Neto Edition ; with Two Plates J"cp. Svo. 5s.

STABLE TALK and TABLE TALK; or, Spectacles

for Young- Sportsmen. By Harry Hieover 2 vols. Svo. 24s.

The EIFLE and the HOUND in CEYLON. By

S. W. Baker, Esq. New Edition, revised ; with 13 Wood Engravings.

Fcp. Svo. 4s. 6d.

London : LONGMAN, BEOWN, and CO., Paternoster Eow.

Boohs on Rural Sports, ^c.

A MONTH in the PORESTS of FEAj^CE. By

the Hon. Grantley Berkeley. With 2 Etchings by J. Leech. 8vo. 8s. 6d.

EEMINISCENCES of a HUNTSMAN. Ey the

Hon. Grantley F. Berkeley. With 4 Etchings by John Leech (1 co-
loured) Svo. 14s.

PE ACTIO AL HOESEMANSHIP. By Haeet

Hieover. With Two Plates {Second Edition) Fcp. Svo. 5s.

Captain EICHAEDSON'S HOESEMANSHIP for

Ihe SCHOOL, the ROAD, and the FIELD ; or, the Art of Riding and Manag-
ing a Horse. With several Illustrations Square ci'own Svo. 14s.

The OEEYHOUND : A Treatise on the Art of

Breeding, Rearing, and Training Greyhounds for Public Running. By
Stonehenge. With many Illustrations Square crown Svo. 21s.

PYCEOET'S CEICKET-EIELD ; or, the Science

and History of the Game of Cricket. Second Edition; with Plates and
Diagrams Fcp. Svo. 5s.

The ANOLEE and his EEIEND ; or, Piscatory Col-

loquies and Fishing Excursions. By John Davy, M.D., F.R.S. Fcp' Svo. 6s.

The ANOLEE in the LA.KE DISTEICT ; or, Pisca-

tory Colloquies and Fishing Excursions in Westmoreland and Cumberland.
By John Davy, M.D., F.R.S Fcp. Svo. 6s. 6d.

EPHEMEEA'S HANDBOOK of. ANOLING;

teaching Fly-Fishing, Trolling, Bottom-Fishing, Salmon-Fishing. W' ith many
Woodcuts Fcp, Svo. OS.

EPHEMEEA'S BOOK of the SALMON; com-
prising the Theory, Principles, and Practice of Fly-Fishing for Salmon : With
copious Lists of Flies, coloured Plates, &c Fcp. Svo. 14s.

EONALDS'S ELY-FISHEE'S ENTOMOLOGY.

With Observations and Instructions relative to Trout and Grayling Fishing.
Fifth Edition, thfiroughly revised by an experienced Fly-Fisher; the Plates
coloured after improved patterns. With 20 coloured Plates Svo. 14s.

London : LONGMAN, EEOWN, and CO., Paternoster Eow.

•'^

//7

Webster Family Library of Veterinary Medicine

Cummings School of Veterinary Medicine at

Tufts University

200 Westboro Road

North Grafton, MA 01536