diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:15:51 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:15:51 -0700 |
| commit | 5c922ff23697277a5dce184f6093c180a92ae4e2 (patch) | |
| tree | 1e77939f7b4007dd6deb0f9fd4183bacc2a61679 /old | |
Diffstat (limited to 'old')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/hntsk10.txt | 2018 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/hntsk10.zip | bin | 0 -> 44302 bytes |
2 files changed, 2018 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/old/hntsk10.txt b/old/hntsk10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3b881b6 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/hntsk10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2018 @@ +**The Project Gutenberg Etext of Hunting Sketches by Trollope** +#2 in our series by Anthony Trollope + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. We need your donations. + + +Hunting Sketches + +by Anthony Trollope + +February, 1997 [Etext #814] + + +**The Project Gutenberg Etext of Hunting Sketches by Trollope** +*****This file should be named hntsk10.txt or hntsk10.zip****** + +Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, hntsk11.txt. +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, hntsk10a.txt. + + +We are now trying to release all our books one month in advance +of the official release dates, for time for better editing. + +Please note: neither this list nor its contents are final till +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. To be sure you have an +up to date first edition [xxxxx10x.xxx] please check file sizes +in the first week of the next month. Since our ftp program has +a bug in it that scrambles the date [tried to fix and failed] a +look at the file size will have to do, but we will try to see a +new copy has at least one byte more or less. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +fifty hours is one conservative estimate for how long it we take +to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. This +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If our value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour this year as we release thirty-two text +files per month: or 400 more Etexts in 1996 for a total of 800. +If these reach just 10% of the computerized population, then the +total should reach 80 billion Etexts. We will try add 800 more, +during 1997, but it will take all the effort we can manage to do +the doubling of our library again this year, what with the other +massive requirements it is going to take to get incorporated and +establish something that will have some permanence. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext +Files by the December 31, 2001. [10,000 x 100,000,000=Trillion] +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only 10% of the present number of computer users. 2001 +should have at least twice as many computer users as that, so it +will require us reaching less than 5% of the users in 2001. + + +We need your donations more than ever! + + +All donations should be made to "Project Gutenberg" + + +For these and other matters, please mail to: + +Project Gutenberg +P. O. Box 2782 +Champaign, IL 61825 + +When all other email fails try our Executive Director: +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> + +We would prefer to send you this information by email +(Internet, Bitnet, Compuserve, ATTMAIL or MCImail). + +****** +If you have an FTP program (or emulator), please +FTP directly to the Project Gutenberg archives: +[Mac users, do NOT point and click. . .type] + +ftp uiarchive.cso.uiuc.edu +login: anonymous +password: your@login +cd etext/etext90 through /etext97 +or cd etext/articles [get suggest gut for more information] +dir [to see files] +get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files] +GET INDEX?00.GUT +for a list of books +and +GET NEW GUT for general information +and +MGET GUT* for newsletters. + +**Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor** +(Three Pages) + + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you can distribute copies of this etext if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this etext on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG- +tm etexts, is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor +Michael S. Hart through the Project Gutenberg (the "Project"). +Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States +copyright on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy +and distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext +under the Project's "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] the Project (and any other party you may receive this +etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold the Project, its directors, +officers, members and agents harmless from all liability, cost +and expense, including legal fees, that arise directly or +indirectly from any of the following that you do or cause: +[1] distribution of this etext, [2] alteration, modification, +or addition to the etext, or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + etext or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word pro- + cessing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The etext may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the etext (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Project of 20% of the + net profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Association within the 60 + days following each date you prepare (or were legally + required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent periodic) + tax return. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, +scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty +free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution +you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg +Association". + +*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + +Hunting Sketches + +by Anthony Trollope + + + + +Contents + +The Man who Hunts and Doesn't Like it +The Man who Hunts and Does Like it +The Lady who Rides to Hounds +The Hunting Farmer +The Man who Hunts and Never Jumps +The Hunting Parson +The Master of Hounds +How to Ride to Hounds + + + +THE MAN WHO HUNTS AND DOESN'T LIKE IT. + +It seems to be odd, at first sight, that there should be any such +men as these; but their name and number is legion. If we were to +deduct from the hunting-crowd farmers, and others who hunt +because hunting is brought to their door, of the remainder we +should find that the "men who don't like it" have the +preponderance. It is pretty much the same, I think, with all +amusements. How many men go to balls, to races, to the theatre, +how many women to concerts and races, simply because it is the +thing to do? They have perhaps, a vague idea that they may +ultimately find some joy in the pastime; but, though they do the +thing constantly, they never like it. Of all such men, the +hunting men are perhaps the most to be pitied. + +They are easily recognized by any one who cares to scrutinize the +men around him in the hunting field. It is not to be supposed +that all those who, in common parlance, do not ride, are to be +included among the number of hunting men who don't like it. Many +a man who sticks constantly to the roads and lines of +gates, who, from principle, never looks at a fence, is much +attached to hunting. Some of those who have borne great names as +Nimrods in our hunting annals would as life have led a forlorn- +hope as put a horse at a flight of hurdles. But they, too, are +known; and though the nature of their delight is a mystery to +straight-going men, it is manifest enough, that they do like it. +Their theory of hunting is at any rate plain. They have an +acknowledged system, and know what they are doing. But the men +who don't like it, have no system, and never know distinctly what +is their own aim. During some portion of their career they +commonly try to ride hard, and sometimes for a while they will +succeed. In short spurts, while the cherry-brandy prevails, they +often have small successes; but even with the assistance of a +spur in the head they never like it. + +Dear old John Leech! What an eye he had for the man who hunts and +doesn't like it ! But for such, as a pictorial chronicler of the +hunting field he would have had no fame. Briggs, I fancy, in his +way did like it. Briggs was a full-blooded, up-apt, awkward, +sanguine man, who was able to like anything, from gin and water +upwards. But with how many a wretched companion of Briggs' are we +not familiar? men as to whom any girl of eighteen would swear +from the form of his visage and the carriage of his legs as he +sits on his horse that he was seeking honour where honour was not +to be found, and looking for pleasure in places where no pleasure +lay for him. + +But the man who hunts and doesn't like it, has his moments of +gratification, and finds a source of pride in his penance. In the +summer, hunting does much for him. He does not usually take much +personal care of his horses, as he is probably a town man and his +horses are summered by a keeper of hunting stables; but he talks +of them. He talks of them freely, and the keeper of the hunting +stables is occasionally forced to write to him. And he can run +down to look at his nags, and spend a few hours eating bad mutton +chops, walking about the yards and paddocks, and, bleeding +halfcrowns through the nose. In all this there is a delight which +offers some compensation for his winter misery to our friend who +hunts and doesn't like it. + +He finds it pleasant to talk of his horses especially to young +women, with whom, perhaps, the ascertained fact of his winter +employment does give him some credit. It is still something to be +a hunting man even yet, though the multiplicity of railways and +the existing plethora of money has so increased the number of +sportsmen, that to keep a nag or two near some well-known +station, is nearly as common as to die. But the delight of these +martyrs is at the highest in the presence of their tailors; or, +higher still, perhaps, in that of their bootmakers. The hunting +man does receive some honour from him who makes his breeches; +and, with a well-balanced sense of justice, the tailor's foreman +is, I think, more patient, more admiring, more demonstrative in +his assurances, more ready with his bit of chalk, when handling +the knee of the man who doesn't like the work, than he ever is +with the customer who comes to him simply because he wants some +clothes fit for the saddle. The judicious conciliating tradesman +knows that compensation should be given, and he helps to give it. +But the visits to the bootmaker are better still. The tailor +persists in telling his customer how his breeches should be made, +and after what fashion they should be worn; but the bootmaker +will take his orders meekly. If not ruffled by paltry objections +as to the fit of the foot, he will accede to any amount of +instructions as to the legs and tops. And then a new pair of top +boots is a pretty toy; Costly, perhaps, if needed only as a toy, +but very pretty, and more decorative in a gentleman's dressing- +room than any other kind of garment. And top boots, when +multiplied in such a locality, when seen in a phalanx tell such +pleasant lies on their owner's behalf. While your breeches are as +dumb in their retirement as though you had not paid for them, +your conspicuous boots are eloquent with a thousand tongues! +There is pleasure found, no doubt, in this. + +As the season draws nigh the delights become vague, and still +more vague; but, nevertheless, there are delights. Getting up at +six o'clock in November to go down to Bletchley by an early train +is not in itself pleasant, but on the opening morning, on the +few first opening mornings, there is a promise about the thing +which invigorates and encourages the early riser. He means to +like it this year if he can. He has still some undefined notion +that his period of pleasure will now come. He has not, as yet, +accepted the adverse verdict which his own nature has given +against him in this matter of hunting, and he gets into his early +tub with acme glow of satisfaction. And afterwards it is nice to +find himself bright with mahogany tops, buff-tinted breeches, and +a pink coat. The ordinary habiliments of an English gentleman are +so sombre that his own eye is gratified, and he feels that he has +placed himself in the vanguard of society by thus shining in his +apparel. And he will ride this year! He is fixed to that purpose. +He will ride straight; and, if possible, he will like it. + +But the Ethiop cannot change his skin, nor can any man add a +cubit to his stature. He doesn't like it, and all around him in +the field know how it is with him; he himself knows how it is +with others like himself, and he congregates with his brethren. +The period of his penance has come upon him. He has to pay the +price of those pleasant interviews with his tradesmen. He has to +expiate the false boasts made to his female cousins. That row of +boots cannot be made to shine in his chamber for nothing. The +hounds have found, and the fox is away. Men are fastening on +their flat-topped hats and feeling themselves in their stirrups. +Horses are hot for the run, and the moment for liking it has +come, if only it were possible! + +But at moments such as these something has to be done. The man +who doesn't like it, let him dislike it ever so much, Cannot +check his horse and simply ride back to the hunting stables. He +understands that were he to do that, he must throw up his cap at +once and resign. Nor can he trot easily along the roads with the +fat old country gentleman who is out on his rough cob, and who, +looking up to the wind and remembering the position of adjacent +coverts, will give a good guess as to the direction in which the +field will move. No; he must make an effort. The time of his +penance has come, and the penance must be borne. There is a spark +of pluck about him, though unfortunately he has brought it to +bear in a wrong direction. The blood still runs at his heart, and +he resolves that he will ride, if only he could tell which way. + +The stout gentleman on the cob has taken the road to the left +with a few companions; but our friend knows that the stout +gentleman has a little game of his own which will not be suitable +for one who intends to ride. Then the crowd in front has divided +itself. Those to the right rush down a hill towards a brook with +a ford. One or two, men whom he hates with an intensity of +envy, have jumped the brook, and have settled to their work. +Twenty or thirty others are hustling themselves through the +water. The time for a judicious start on that side is already +gone. But others, a crowd of others, are facing the big ploughed +field immediately before them. That is the straightest riding, +and with them he goes. Why has the scent lain so hot over the up- +turned heavy ground? Why do they go so fast at this the very +first blush of the morning ? Fortune is always against him, and +the horse is pulling him through the mud as though the brute +meant to drag his arm out of the socket. At the first fence, as +he is steadying himself, a butcher passes him roughly in the jump +and nearly takes away the side of his top boot. He is knocked +half out of his saddle, and in that condition scrambles through. +When he has regained his equilibrium he sees the happy butcher +going into the field beyond. He means to curse the butcher when +he catches him, but the butcher is safe. A field and a half +before him he still sees the tail hounds, and renews his effort. +He has meant to like it to-day, and he will. So he rides at the +next fence boldly, where the butcher has left his mark, and does +it pretty well, with a slight struggle. Why is it that he can +never get over a ditch without some struggle in his saddle, some +scramble with his horse? Why does he curse the poor animal so +constantly, unless it be that he cannot catch the butcher? Now +he rushes at a gate which others have opened for him, but rushes +too late and catches his leg. Mad with pain, he nearly gives it +up, but the spark of pluck is still there, and with throbbing +knee he perseveres. How he hates it! It is all detestable now. He +cannot hold his horse because of his gloves, and he cannot get +them off. The sympathetic beast knows that his master is unhappy, +and makes himself unhappy and troublesome in consequence. Our +friend is still going, riding wildly, but still keeping a grain +of caution for his fences. He has not been down yet, but has +barely saved himself more than once. The ploughs are very deep, +and his horse, though still boring at him, pants heavily. Oh, +that there might come a check, or that the brute of a fox might +happily go to ground ! But no! The ruck of the hunt is far away +from him in front, and the game is running steadily straight for +some well known though still distant protection. But the man who +doesn't like it still sees a red coat before him, and perseveres +in chasing the wearer of it. The solitary red coat becomes +distant, and still more distant from him, but he goes on while he +can yet keep the line in which that red coat has ridden. He must +hurry himself, however, or he will be lost to humanity, and will +be alone. He must hurry himself, but his horse now desires to +hurry no more. So he puts his spurs to the brute savagely, and +then at some little fence, some ignoble ditch, they come down +together in the mud, and the question of any further effort is +saved for the rider. When he arises the red coat is out of sight, +and his own horse is half across the field before him. In such a +position, is it possible that a man should like it ? + +About four o'clock in the afternoon, when the other men are +coming in, he turns up at the hunting stables, and nobody asks +him any questions. He may have been doing fairly well for what +anybody knows, and, as he says nothing of himself, his disgrace +is at any rate hidden. Why should he tell that he had been nearly +an hour on foot trying to catch his horse, that he had sat +himself down on a bank and almost cried, and that he had drained +his flask to the last drop before one o'clock ? No one need know +the extent of his miseries. And no one does know how great is the +misery endured by those who hunt regularly, and who do not like it. + + + + +THE MAN WHO HUNTS AND DOES LIKE IT. + +The man who hunts and does like it is an object of keen envy to +the man who hunts and doesn't; but he, too, has his own miseries, +and I am not prepared to say that they are always less +aggravating than those endured by his less ambitious brother in +the field. He, too, when he comes to make up his account, when +he brings his hunting to book and inquires whether his whistle +has been worth its price, is driven to declare that vanity and +vexation of spirit have been the prevailing characteristics of +his hunting life. On how many evenings has he returned contented +with his sport ? How many days has he declared to have been +utterly wasted ? How often have frost and snow, drought and rain, +wind and sunshine, impeded his plans ? for to a hunting man +frost, snow, drought, rain, wind and sunshine, will all come +amiss. Then, when the one run of the season comes, he is not +there! He has been idle and has taken a liberty with the day; or +he has followed other gods and gone with strange hounds. With +sore ears and bitter heart he hears the exaggerated boastings of +his comrades, and almost swears that he will have no more of it. +At the end of the season he tells himself that the season's +amusement has cost him five hundred pounds; that he has had one +good day, three days that were not bad, and that all the rest +have been vanity and vexation of spirit. After all, it may be a +question whether the man who hunts and doesn't like it does not +have the best of it. + +When we consider what is endured by the hunting man the wonder is +that any man should like it. In the old days of Squire Western, +and in the old days too since the time of Squire Western, the +old days of thirty years since, the hunting man had his hunting +near to him. He was a country gentleman who considered himself to +be energetic if he went out twice a week, and in doing this he +rarely left his house earlier for that purpose than he would +leave it for others. At certain periods of the year he +if ho went out twice a he rarely left his house than he would +leave it periods of the year he would, perhaps, be out before +dawn; but then the general habits of his life conduced to early +rising; and his distances were short. If he kept a couple of +horses for the purpose he was well mounted, and these horses were +available for other uses. He rode out and home, jogging slowly +along the roads, and was a martyr to no ambition. All that has +been changed now. The man who hunts and likes it, either takes a +small hurting seat away from the comforts of his own home, or he +locates himself miserably at an inn, or he undergoes the +purgatory of daily journeys up and down from London, doing that +for his hunting which no consideration of money-making would +induce him to do for his business. His hunting requires from him +everything, his time, his money, his social hours, his rest, his +sweet morning sleep; nay, his very dinners have to be sacrificed +to this Moloch! + +Let us follow him on an ordinary day. His groom comes to his bed- +chamber at seven o'clock, and tells him that it has frozen during +the night. If he be a London man, using the train for his +hunting, he knows nothing of the frost, and does not learn +whether the day be practicable or not till he finds himself down +in the country. But we will suppose our friend to be located in +some hunting district, and accordingly his groom visits him with +tidings. "Is it freezing now?" he asks from under the bedclothes. +And even the man who does like it at such moments almost wishes +that the answer should be plainly in the affirmative. Then +swiftly again to the arms of Morpheus he might take himself, and +ruffle his temper no further on that morning! He desires, at any +rate, a decisive answer. To be or not to be as regards that day's +hurting is what he now wants to know. But that is exactly what +the groom cannot tell him. " It's just a thin crust of frost, +sir, and the s'mometer is a standing at the pint." That is the +answer which the man makes, and on that he has to come to a +decision! For half an hour he lies doubting while his water is +getting cold, and then sends for his man again. The thermometer +is still standing at the point, but the man has tried the crust +with his heel and found it to be very thin. The man who hunts and +likes it scorns his ease, and resolves that he will at any rate +persevere. He tumbles into his tub, and a little before nine +comes out to his breakfast, still doubting sorely whether or no +the day "will do." There he, perhaps, meets one or two others +like himself, and learns that the men who hunt and don't like it +are still warm in their beds. On such mornings as these, and +such mornings are very many, the men who hunt and do not like it +certainly have the best of it. The man who hunts and does like it +takes himself out to some kitchen-garden or neighbouring paddock, +and kicks at the ground himself. Certainly there is a crust, a +very manifest crust. Though he puts up in the country, he has to +go sixteen miles to the meet, and has no means of knowing whether +or no the hounds will go out. " Jorrocks always goes if there's a +chance," says one fellow, speaking of the master. " I don't +know," says our friend; " he's a deal slower at it than he used +to be. For my part, I wish Jorrocks would go; he's getting too +old." Then he bolts a mutton chop and a couple of eggs hurriedly, +and submits himself to be carried off in the trap. + +Though he is half an hour late at the meet, no hounds have as yet +come, and he begins to curse his luck. A non-hunting day, a day +that turns out to be no day for hunting purposes, begun in this +way, is of all days the most melancholy. What is a man to do with +himself who has put himself into his boots and breeches, and who +then finds himself, by one o'clock, landed back at his starting- +point without employment ? Who under such circumstances can apply +himself to any salutary employment ? Cigars and stable-talk are +all that remain to him; and it is well for him if he can refrain +from the additional excitement of brandy and water. + +But on the present occasion we will not presume that our friend +has fallen into so deep a bathos of misfortune. At twelve o'clock +Tom appears, with the hounds following slowly at his heels; and a +dozen men, angry with impatience, fly at him with assurances that +there has been no sign of frost since ten o'clock. " Ain't there +?" says Tom; " you look at the north sides of the banks, and see +how you'd like it." Some one makes an uncivil remark as to the +north sides of the banks, and wants to know when old Jorrocks is +coming. " The squire 'll be here time enough," says Tom. And then +there takes place that slow walking up and down of the hounds, +which on such mornings always continues for half an hour. Let him +who envies the condition of the man who hunts and likes it, +remember that a cold thaw is going on, that our friend is already +sulky with waiting, that to ride up and down for an hour and a +half at a walking pace on such a morning is not an exhilarating +pastime, and he will understand that the hunting man himself may +have doubts as to the wisdom of his course of action. + +But at last Jorrocks is there, and the hounds trot off to cover. +So dull has been everything on this morning that even that is +something, and men begin to make themselves happier in the warmth +of the movement. The hounds go into covert, and a period of +excitement is commenced. Our friend who likes hunting remarks to +his neighbour that the ground is rideable. His neighbour who +doesn't like it quite so well says that he doesn't know. They +remain standing close together on a forest ride for twenty +minutes, but conversation doesn't go beyond that. The man who +doesn't like it has lit a cigar, but the man who does like it +never lights a cigar when hounds are drawing. + +And now the welcome music is heard, and a fox has been found. Mr. +Jorrocks, gallopping along the ride with many oaths, implores +those around him to hold their tongues and remain quiet. Why he +should trouble himself to do this, as he knows that no one will +obey his orders, it is difficult to surmise. Or why men should +stand still in the middle of a large wood when they expect a fox +to break, because Mr. Jorrocks swears +at them, is also not to be understood. Our friend pays no +attention to Mr. Jorrocks, but makes for the end of the +ride, going with ears erect, and listening to the distant hounds +as they turn upon the turning fox. As they turn, he returns; and, +splashing through the mud of the now softened ground, through +narrow tracks, with the boughs in his face, listening +always, now hoping, now despairing, speaking to no one, but +following and followed, he makes his way backwards and forwards +through the wood, till at last, weary with wishing and working, +he rests himself in some open spot, and begins to eat his +luncheon. It is now past two, and it would puzzle him to say what +pleasure he has as yet had out of his day's amusement. + +But now, while the flask is yet at his mouth, he hears from some +distant corner a sound that tells him that the fox is away. He +ought to have persevered, and then he would have been near them. +As it is, all that labour of riding has been in vain, and he has +before him the double task of finding the line of the hounds and +of catching them when he has found it. He has a crowd of men +around him; but he knows enough of hunting to be aware that the +men who are wrong at such moments are always more numerous than +they who are right. He has to choose for himself, and chooses +quickly, dashing down a ride to the right, while a host of those +who know that he is one of them who like it, follow closely at +his heels, too closely, as he finds at the first fence out of +the woods, when one of his young admirers almost jumps on the top +of him. " Do you want to get into my pocket, sir?" he says, +angrily. The young admirer is snubbed, and, turning away, +attempts to make a line for himself. + +But though he has been followed, he has great doubt as to his own +course. To hesitate is to be lost, so he goes on, on rapidly, +looking as he clears every fence for the spot at which he is to +clear the next; but he is by no means certain of his course. +Though he has admirers at his heels who credit him implicitly, +his mind is racked by an agony of ignorance. He has got badly +away, and the hounds are running well, and it is going to be a +good thing; and he will not see it. He has not been in for +anything good this year, and now this is his luck! His eye +travels round over the horizon as he is gallopping, and though he +sees men here and there, he can catch no sign of a hound; nor can +he catch the form of any man who would probably be with them. But +he perseveres, choosing his points as he goes, till the tail of +his followers becomes thinner and thinner. He comes out upon a +road, and makes the pace as good as he can along the soft edge of +it. He sniffs at the wind, knowing that the fox, going at such a +pace as this, must run with it. He tells himself from outward +signs where he is, and uses his dead knowledge to direct him. He +scorns to ask a question as he passes countrymen in his course, +but he would give five guineas to know exactly where the hounds +are at that moment. He has been at it now forty minutes, and is +in despair. His gallant nag rolls a little under him, and he +knows that he has been going too fast. And for what; for what ? +What good has it all done him ? What good will it do him, though +he should kill the beast ? He curses between his teeth, and +everything is vanity and vexation of spirit. + +"They've just run into him at Boxall Springs, Mr. Jones," says a +farmer whom he passes on the road. Boxall Springs is only a +quarter of a mile before him, but he wonders how the farmer has +come to know all about it. But on reaching Boxall Springs he +finds that the farmer was right, and that Tom is already breaking +up the fox. "Very good thing, Mr. Jones," says the squire in good +humour. Our friend mutters something +between his teeth and rides away in dudgeon from the triumphant +master. On his road home he hears all about it from everybody. It +seems to him that he alone of all those who are anybody has +missed the run, the run of the season! " And killed him in the +open as you may say," says Smith, who has already twice boasted +in Jones's hearing that he had seen every turn the hounds had +made. " It wasn't in the open," says Jones, reduced in his anger +to diminish as far as may be the triumph of his rival. + +Such is the fate, the too frequent fate of the man who hunts and +does like it. + + + + + +THE LADY WHO RIDES TO HOUNDS. + +Among those who hunt there are two classes of hunting people who +always like it, and these people are hunting parsons and hunting +ladies. That it should be so is natural enough. In the life and +habits of parsons and ladies there is much that is antagonistic +to hunting, and they who suppress this antagonism do so because +they are Nimrods at heart. But the riding of these horsemen under +difficulties, horsemen and horsewomen, leaves a strong +impression on the casual observer of hunting; for to such an one +it seems that the hardest riding is forthcoming exactly where no +hard riding should be expected. On the present occasion I will, +if you please, confine myself to the lady who rides to hounds, +and will begin with an assertion, which will not be contradicted, +that the number of such ladies is very much on the increase. + +Women who ride, as a rule, ride better than men. They, the women, +have always been instructed; whereas men have usually come to +ride without any instruction. They are put upon ponies when they +are all boys, and put themselves upon their fathers' horses as +they become hobbledehoys: and thus they obtain the power of +sticking on to the animal while he gallops and jumps, and even +while he kicks and shies; and, so progressing, they achieve an +amount of horsemanship which answers the purposes of life. But +they do not acquire the art of riding with exactness, as women +do, and rarely have such hands as a woman has on a horse's mouth. +The consequence of this is that women fall less often than men, +and the field is not often thrown into the horror which would +arise were a lady known to be in a ditch with a horse lying on her. + +I own that I like to see three or four ladies out in a field, and +I like it the better if I am happy enough to count one or more +of them among my own acquaintances. Their presence tends to +take off from hunting that character of horseyness, of both +fast horseyness and slow horseyness, which has become, not +unnaturally, attached to it, and to bring it within the category +of gentle sports. There used to prevail an idea that the hunting +man was of necessity loud and rough, given to strong drinks, ill +adapted for the poetries of life, and perhaps a little prone to +make money out of his softer friend. It may now be said that this +idea is going out of vogue, and that hunting men are supposed to +have that same feeling with regard to their horses, the same and +no more, which ladies have for their carriage or soldiers for +their swords. Horses are valued simply for the services that they +can render, and are only valued highly when they are known to be +good servants. That a man may hunt without drinking or swearing, +and may possess a nag or two without any propensity to sell it or +them for double their value, is now beginning to be understood. +The oftener that women are to be seen "out," the more will such +improved feelings prevail as to hunting, and the pleasanter will +be the field to men who are not horsey, but who may nevertheless +be good horsemen. + +There are two classes of women who ride to hounds, or, rather, +among many possible classifications, there are two to which I +will now call attention. There is the lady who rides, and demands +assistance; and there is the lady who rides, and demands none. +Each always, I may say always, receives all the assistance that +she may require; but the difference between the two, to the men +who ride with them, is very great. It will, of course, be +understood that, as to both these samples of female Nimrods, I +speak of ladies who really ride, not of those who grace the +coverts with, and disappear under the auspices of, their papas or +their grooms when the work begins. + +The lady who rides and demands assistance in truth becomes a +nuisance before the run is over, let her beauty be ever so +transcendent, her horsemanship ever- so perfect, and her battery +of general feminine artillery ever so powerful. She is like the +American woman, who is always wanting your place in a railway +carriage, and demanding it, too, without the slightest idea of +paying you for it with thanks; whose study it is to treat you as +though she ignored your existence while she is appropriating your +services. The hunting lady who demands assistance is very +particular about her gates, requiring that aid shall be given to +her with instant speed, but that the man who gives it shall never +allow himself to be hurried as he renders it. And she soon +becomes reproachful, oh, so soon ! It is marvellous to watch the +manner in which a hunting lady will become exacting, troublesome, +and at last imperious, deceived and spoilt by the attention +which she receives. She teaches herself to think at last that a +man is a brute who does not ride as though he were riding as her +servant, and that it becomes her to assume indignation if every +motion around her is not made with some reference to her safety, +to her comfort, or to her success. I have seen women look as +Furies look, and heard them speak as Furies are supposed to +speak, because men before them could not bury themselves and +their horses out of their way at a moment's notice, or because +some pulling animal would still assert himself while they were +there, and not sink into submission and dog-like obedience for +their behoof. + +I have now before my eyes one who was pretty, brave, and a good +horse-woman; but how men did hate her! When you were in a line +with her there was no shaking her off. Indeed, you were like +enough to be shaken off yourself, and to be rid of her after that +fashion. But while you were with her you never escaped her at a +single fence, and always felt that you were held to be +trespassing against her in some manner. I shall never forget her +voice, " Pray, take care of that gate." And yet it was a pretty +voice, and elsewhere she was not given to domineering more than is +common to pretty women in general; but she had been taught badly +from the beginning, and she was a pest. It was the same at every +gap. " Might I ask you not to come too near me ? " And yet it was +impossible to escape her. Men could not ride wide of her, for she +would not ride wide of them. She had always some male escort with +her, who did not ride as she rode, and consequently, as she chose +to have the advantage of an escort, of various escorts, she was +always in the company of some who did not feel as much joy in the +presence of a pretty young woman as men should do under all +circumstances. "Might I ask you not to come too near me?" If she +could only have heard the remarks to which this constant little +request of hers gave rise. She is now the mother of children, and +her hunting days are gone, and probably she never makes that +little request. Doubtless that look, made up partly of offence +and partly of female dignity, no longer clouds her brow. But I +fancy that they who knew her of old in the hunting field never +approach her now without fancying that they hear those +reproachful words, and see that powerful look of injured feminine +weakness. + +But there is the hunting lady who rides hard and never asks for +assistance. Perhaps I may be allowed to explain to embryo +Dianas, to the growing huntresses of the present age, that she +who rides and makes no demand receives attention as close as is +ever given to her more imperious sister. And how welcome she is ! +What a grace she lends to the day's sport! How pleasant it is to +see her in her pride of place, achieving her mastery over the +difficulties in her way by her own wit, as all men, and all +women also, must really do who intend to ride to hounds; and +doing it all without any sign that the difficulties are too great +for her! + +The lady who rides like this is in truth seldom in the way. I +have heard men declare that they would never wish to see a side- +saddle in the field because women are troublesome, and because +they must be treated with attention let the press of the moment +be ever so instant. From this I dissent altogether. The small +amount of courtesy that is needed is more than atoned for by the +grace of her presence, and in fact produces no more impediment in +the hunting-field than in other scenes of life. +But in the hunting-field, as in other scenes, let assistance +never be demanded by a woman. If the lady finds that she cannot +keep a place in the first flight without such demands on the +patience of those around her, let her acknowledge to herself that +the attempt is not in her line, and that it should be abandoned. +If it be the ambition of a hunting lady to ride straight, and +women have very much of this ambition, let her use her eyes but +never her voice; and let her ever have a smile for those who help +her in her little difficulties. Let her never ask any one " to +take care of that gate," or look as though she expected the +profane crowd to keep aloof from her. So shall she win the hearts +of those around her, and go safely through brake and brier, over +ditch and dyke, and meet with a score of knights around her who +will be willing and able to give her eager aid should the chance +of any moment require it. + +There are two accusations which the more demure portion of the +world is apt to advance against hunting ladies, or, as I should +better say, against hunting as an amusement for ladies. It leads +to flirting, they say, to flirting of a sort which mothers would +not approve; and it leads to fast habits, to ways and thoughts +which are of the horse horsey, and of the stable, strongly +tinged with the rack and manger. The first of these accusations +is, I think, simply made in ignorance. As girls are brought up +among us now-a-days, they may all flirt, if they have a mind to +do so; and opportunities for flirting are much better and much +more commodious in the ball-room, in the drawing-room, or in the +park, than they are in the hunting-field. Nor is the work in hand +of a nature to create flirting tendencies, as, it must be +admitted, is the nature of the work in hand when the floors are +waxed and the fiddles are going. And this error has sprung from, +or forms part of, another, which is wonderfully common among non +- hunting folk. It is very widely thought by many, who do not, as +a rule, put themselves in opposition to the amusements of the +world, that hunting in itself is a wicked thing; that hunting men +are fast, given to unclean living and bad ways of life; that they +usually go to bed drunk, and that they go about the world roaring +hunting cries, and disturbing the peace of the innocent +generally. With such men, who could wish that wife, sister, or +daughter should associate? But I venture to say that this +opinion, which I believe to be common, is erroneous, and that men +who hunt are not more iniquitous than men who go out fishing, or +play dominoes, or dig in their gardens. Maxima debetur pueris +reverentia, and still more to damsels; but if boys and girls will +never go where they will hear more to injure them than they will +usually do amidst the ordinary conversation of a hunting field, +the maxima reverentia will have been attained. + +As to that other charge, let it be at once admitted that the +young lady who has become of the horse horsey has made a fearful, +almost a fatal mistake. And so also has the young man who falls +into the same error. I hardly know to which such phase of +character may be most injurious. It is a pernicious vice, that of +succumbing to the beast that carries you, and making yourself, as +it were, his servant, instead of keeping him ever as yours. I +will not deny that I have known a lady to fall into this vice +from hunting; but so also have I known ladies to marry their +music-masters and to fall in love with their footmen. But not on +that account are we to have no music-masters and no footmen. + +Let the hunting lady, however, avoid any touch of this blemish, +remembering that no man ever likes a woman to know as much about +a horse as he thinks he knows himself. + + + + +THE HUNTING FARMER. + +Few hunting men calculate how much they owe to the hunting +farmer, or recognize the fact that hunting farmers contribute +more than any other class of sportsmen towards the maintenance of +the sport. It is hardly too much to say that hunting would be +impossible if farmers did not hunt. If they were inimical to +hunting, and men so closely concerned must be friends or +enemies, there would be no foxes left alive; and no fox, if +alive, could be kept above ground. Fences would be impracticable, +and damages would be ruinous; and any attempt to maintain the +institution of hunting would be a long warfare in which the +opposing farmer would certainly be the ultimate conqueror. What +right has the hunting man who goes down from London, or across +from Manchester, to ride over the ground which he treats as if it +were his own, and to which he thinks that free access is his +undoubted privilege ? Few men, I fancy, reflect that they have no +such right, and no such privilege, or recollect that the very +scene and area of their exercise, the land that makes hunting +possible to them, is contributed by the farmer. Let any one +remember with what tenacity the exclusive right of entering upon +their small territories is clutched and maintained by all +cultivators in other countries; let him remember the enclosures +of France, the vine and olive terraces of Tuscany, or the +narrowly-watched fields of Lombardy; the little meadows of +Switzerland on which no stranger's foot is allowed to come, or +the Dutch pastures, divided by dykes, and made safe from all +intrusions. Let him talk to the American farmer of English +hunting, and explain to that independent, but somewhat prosaic +husbandman, that in England two or three hundred men claim the +right of access to every man's land during the whole period of +the winter months ! Then, when he thinks of this, will he realize +to himself what it is that the English farmer contributes to +hunting in England ? The French countryman cannot be made to +understand it. You cannot induce him to believe that if he held +land in England, looking to make his rent from tender young +grass-fields and patches of sprouting corn, he would be powerless +to keep out intruders, if those intruders came in the shape of a +rushing squadron of cavalry, and called themselves a hunt. To +him, in accordance with his existing ideas, rural life under such +circumstances would be impossible. A small pan of charcoal, and +an honourable death-bed, would give him relief after his first +experience of such an invasion. + +Nor would the English farmer put up with the invasion, if the +English farmer were not himself a hunting man. Many farmers, +doubtless, do not hunt, and they bear it, with more or less +grace; but they are inured to it from their infancy, because it +is in accordance with the habits and pleasures of their own race. +Now and again, in every hunt, some man comes up, who is, indeed, +more frequently a small proprietor new to the glories of +ownership, than a tenant farmer, who determines to vindicate his +rights and oppose the field. He puts up a wire-fence round his +domain, thus fortifying himself, as it were, in his citadel, and +defies the world around him. It is wonderful how great is the +annoyance which one such man may give, and how thoroughly he may +destroy the comfort of the coverts in his neighbourhood. But, +strong as such an one is in his fortress, there are still the +means of fighting him. The farmers around him, if they be hunting +men, make the place too hot to hold him. To them he is a thing +accursed, a man to be spoken of with all evil language, as one +who desires to get more out of his land than Providence, that +is, than an English Providence, has intended. Their own wheat is +exposed, and it is abominable to them that the wheat of another +man should be more sacred than theirs. + +All this is not sufficiently remembered by some of us when the +period of the year comes which is trying to the farmer's +heart, when the young clover is growing, and the barley has been +just sown. Farmers, as a rule, do not think very much of their +wheat. When such riding is practicable, of course they like to +see men take the headlands and furrows; but their hearts are not +broken by the tracks of horses across their wheat-fields. I +doubt, indeed, whether wheat is ever much injured by such usage. +But let the thoughtful rider avoid the new-sown barley; and, +above all things, let him give a wide berth to the new-laid +meadows of artificial grasses. They are never large, and may +always be shunned. To them the poaching of numerous horses is +absolute destruction. The surface of such enclosures should be as +smooth as a billiard-table, so that no water may lie in holes; +and, moreover, any young plant cut by a horse's foot is trodden +out of existence. Farmers do see even this done, and live through +it without open warfare; but they should not be put to such +trials of temper or pocket too often. + +And now for my friend the hunting farmer in person, the +sportsman whom I always regard as the most indispensable adjunct +to the field, to whom I tender my spare cigar with the most +perfect expression of my good will. His dress is nearly always +the same. He wears a thick black coat, dark brown breeches, and +top boots, very white in colour, or of a very dark mahogany, +according to his taste. The hunting farmer of the old school +generally rides in a chimney-pot hat; but, in this particular, +the younger brethren of the plough are leaving their old habits, +and running into caps, net hats, and other innovations which, I +own, are somewhat distasteful to me. And there is, too, the +ostentatious farmer, who rides in scarlet, signifying thereby +that he subscribes his ten or fifteen guineas to the hunt fund. +But here, in this paper, it is not of him I speak. He is a man +who is so much less the farmer, in that he is the more an +ordinary man of the ordinary world. The farmer whom we have now +before us shall wear the old black coat, and the old black hat, +and the white top boots, rather daubed in their whiteness; and +he shall be the genuine farmer of the old school. + +My friend is generally a modest man in the field, seldom much +given to talking unless he be first addressed; and then he +prefers that you shall take upon yourself the chief burden of the +conversation. But on certain hunting subjects he has his opinion, +indeed, a very strong opinion, and if you can drive him from +that, your eloquence must be very great. He is very urgent about +special coverts, and even as to special foxes; and you will often +find smouldering in his bosom, if you dive deep enough to search +for it, a half-smothered fire of indignation against the master +because the country has, according to our friend's views, been +drawn amiss. In such matters the farmer is generally right; but +he is slow to communicate his ideas, and does not recognize the +fact that other men have not the same opportunities for +observation which belong to him. A master, however, who understands +his business will generally consult a farmer; and he +will seldom, I think, or perhaps never, consult any one else. + +Always shake hands with your friend the farmer. It puts him at +his ease with you, and he will tell you more willingly after that +ceremony what are his ideas about the wind, and what may be +expected of the day. His day's hunting is to him a solemn thing, +and he gives to it all his serious thought. If any man can +predicate anything of the run of a fox, it is the farmer. + +I had almost said that if any one knew anything of scent, it is +the farmer; but of scent I believe that not even the farmer knows +anything. But he knows very much as to the lie of the country, +and should my gentle reader by chance have taken a glass or two +of wine above ordinary over night, the effect of which will +possibly be a temporary distaste to straight riding, no one's +knowledge as to the line of the lanes is so serviceable as that +of the farmer. + +As to riding, there is the ambitious farmer and the unambitious +farmer; the farmer who rides hard, that is, ostensibly hard, and +the farmer who is simply content to know where the hounds are, +and to follow them at a distance which shall maintain him in that +knowledge. The ambitious farmer is not the hunting farmer in his +normal condition; he is either one who has an eye to selling his +horse, and, riding with that view, loses for the time his +position as farmer; or he is some exceptional tiller of the soil +who probably is dangerously addicted to hunting as another man is +addicted to drinking; and you may surmise respecting him that +things will not go well with him after a year or two. The friend +of my heart is the farmer who rides, but rides without +sputtering; who never makes a show of it, but still is always +there; who feels it to be no disgrace to avoid a run of fences +when his knowledge tells him that this may be done without danger +of his losing his place. Such an one always sees a run to the +end. Let the pace have been what it may, he is up in time to see +the crowd of hounds hustling for their prey, and to take part in +the buzz of satisfaction which the prosperity of the run has +occasioned. But the farmer never kills his horse, and seldom +rides him even to distress. He is not to be seen loosing his +girths, or looking at the beast's flanks, or examining his legs +to ascertain what mischances may have occurred. He takes it all +easily, as men always take matters of business in which they are +quite at home. At the end of the run he sits mounted as quietly +as he did at the meet, and has none of that appearance of having +done something wonderful, which on such occasions is so very +strong in the faces of the younger portion of the pink brigade. +To the farmer his day's hunting is very pleasant, and by habit is +even very necessary; but it comes in its turn like market-day, +and produces no extraordinary excitement. He does not rejoice +over an hour and ten minutes with a kill in the open, as he +rejoices when he has returned to Parliament the candidate who is +pledged to repeal of the malt-tax; for the farmer of whom we are +speaking now, though he rides with constancy, does not ride with +enthusiasm. + +O fortunati sua si bona norint farmers of England! Who in the +town is the farmer's equal? What is the position which his +brother, his uncle, his cousin holds? He is a shopkeeper, who +never has a holiday, and does not know what to do with it when it +comes to him; to whom the fresh air of heaven is a stranger; +who lives among sugars and oils, and the dust of shoddy, and the +size of new clothing. Should such an one take to hunting once a +week, even after years of toil, men would point their fingers at +him and whisper among themselves that he was as good as ruined. +His friends would tell him of his wife and children; and, +indeed, would tell him truly, for his customers would fly from +him. But nobody grudges the farmer his day's sport! No one thinks +that he is cruel to his children and unjust to his wife because +he keeps a nag for his amusement, and can find a couple of days +in the week to go among his friends. And with what advantages he +does this ! A farmer will do as much with one horse, will see as +much hunting, as an outside member of the hunt will do with +four, and, indeed, often more. He is his own head-groom, and has +no scruple about bringing his horse out twice a week. He asks no +livery-stable keeper what his beast can do, but tries the powers +of the animal himself, and keeps in his breast a correct record. +When the man from London, having taken all he can out of his +first horse, has ridden his second to a stand-still, the farmer +trots up on his stout, compact cob, without a sign of distress. +He knows that the condition of a hunter and a greyhound should +not be the same, and that his horse, to be in good working +health, should carry nearly all the hard flesh that he can put +upon him. How such an one must laugh in his sleeve at the five +hunters of the young swell who, after all, is brought to grief in +the middle of the season, because he has got nothing to ride! A +farmer's horse is never lame, never unfit to go, never throws out +curbs, never breaks down before or behind. Like his master, he is +never showy. He does not paw, and prance, and arch his neck, and +bid the world admire his beauties; but, like his master, he is +useful; and when he is wanted, he can always do his work. + +O fortunatus nimium agricola, who has one horse, and that a good +one, in the middle of a hunting country ! + + + + +THE MAN WHO HUNTS AND NEVER JUMPS. + +The British public who do not hunt believe too much in the +jumping of those who do. It is thought by many among the laity +that the hunting man is always in the air, making clear flights +over five-barred gates, six-foot walls, and double posts and +rails, at none of which would the average hunting man any more +think of riding than he would at a small house. We used to hear +much of the Galway Blazers, and it was supposed that in County +Galway a stiff-built wall six feet high was the sort of thing +that you customarily met from field to field when hunting in that +comfortable county. Such little impediments were the ordinary +food of a real Blazer, who was supposed to add another foot of +stonework and a sod of turf when desirous of making himself +conspicuous in his moments of splendid ambition. Twenty years ago +I rode in Galway now and then, and I found the six-foot walls all +shorn of their glory, and that men whose necks were of any value +were very anxious to have some preliminary knowledge of the +nature of the fabric, whether for instance it might be solid or +built of loose stones, before they trusted themselves to an +encounter with a wall of four feet and a half. And here, in +England, history, that nursing mother of fiction, has given +hunting men honours which they here never fairly earned. The +traditional five-barred gate is, as a rule, used by hunting men +as it was intended to be used by the world at large; that is to +say, they open it; and the double posts and rails which look so +very pretty in the sporting pictures, are thought to be very ugly +things whenever an idea of riding at them presents itself. It is +well that mothers should know, mothers full of fear for their +boys who are beginning, that the necessary jumping of the +hunting field is not after all of so very tremendous a nature; +and it may be well also to explain to them and to others that +many men hunt with great satisfaction to themselves who never by +any chance commit themselves to the peril of a jump, either big +or little. + +And there is much excellent good sense in the mode of riding +adopted by such gentlemen. Some men ride for hunting, some for +jumping, and some for exercise; some, no doubt, for all three of +these things. Given a man with a desire for the latter, no taste +for the second, and some partiality for the first, and he cannot +do better than ride in the manner I am describing. He may be sure +that he will not find himself alone; and he may be sure also that +he will incur none of that ridicule which the non-hunting man is +disposed to think must be attached to such a pursuit. But the man +who hunts and never jumps, who deliberately makes up his mind +that he will amuse himself after that fashion, must always +remember his resolve, and be true to the conduct which he has +laid down for himself. He must jump not at all. He must not jump +a little, when some spurt or spirit may move him, or he will +infallibly find himself in trouble. There was an old Duke of +Beaufort who was a keen and practical sportsman, a master of +hounds, and a known Nimrod on the face of the earth; but he was a +man who hunted and never jumped. His experience was perfect, and +he was always true to his resolution. Nothing ever tempted him to +cross the smallest fence. He used to say of a neighbour of his, +who was not so constant, " Jones is an ass. Look at him now. +There he is, and he can't get out. Jones doesn't like jumping, +but he jumps a little, and I see him pounded every day. I never +jump at all, and I'm always free to go where I like." The Duke +was certainly right, and Jones was certainly wrong. To get into a +field, and then to have no way of getting out of it, is very +uncomfortable. As long as you are on the road you have a way open +before you to every spot on the world's surface, open, or +capable of being opened; or even if incapable of being opened, +not positively detrimental to you as long as you are on the right +side. But that feeling of a prison under the open air is very +terrible, and is rendered almost agonizing by the prisoner's +consciousness that his position is the result of his own +imprudent temerity, of an audacity which falls short of any +efficacious purpose. When hounds are running, the hunting man +should always, at any rate, be able to ride on, to ride in some +direction, even though it be in a wrong direction. He can then +flatter himself that he is riding wide and making a line for +himself. But to be entrapped into a field without any power of +getting out of it; to see the red backs of the forward men +becoming smaller and smaller in the distance, till the last speck +disappears over some hedge; to see the fence before you and know +that it is too much for you; to ride round and round in an agony +of despair which is by no means mute, and at last to give +sixpence to some boy to conduct you back into the road; that is +wretched: that is real unhappiness. I am, therefore, very +persistent in my advice to the man who purposes to hunt without +jumping. Let him not jump at all. To jump, but only to jump a +little, is fatal. Let him think of Jones. + +The man who hunts and doesn't jump, presuming him not to be a +duke or any man greatly established as a Nimrod in the hunting +world, generally comes out in +a black coat and a hat, so that he may not be specially +conspicuous in his deviations from the line of the running. He +began his hunting probably in search of exercise, but has +gradually come to add a peculiar amusement to that pursuit; and +of a certain phase of hunting he at last learns more than most of +those who ride closest to the hounds. He becomes wonderfully +skillful in surmising the line which a fox may probably take, and +in keeping himself upon roads parallel to the ruck of the +horsemen. He is studious of the wind, and knows to a point of the +compass whence it is blowing. He is intimately conversant with +every covert in the country; and, beyond this, is acquainted with +every earth in which foxes have had their nurseries, or are +likely to locate them. He remembers the drains on the different +farms in which the hunted animal may possible take refuge, and +has a memory even for rabbit-holes. His eye becomes accustomed to +distinguish the form of a moving horseman over half-a-dozen +fields; and let him see but a cap of any leading man, and he will +know which way to turn himself. His knowledge of the country is +correct to a marvel. While the man who rides straight is +altogether ignorant of his whereabouts, and will not even +distinguish the woods through which he has ridden scores of +times, the man who rides and never jumps always knows where he is +with the utmost accuracy. Where parish is divided from parish and +farm from farm, has been a study to him; and he has learned the +purpose and bearing of every lane. He is never thrown out, and +knows the nearest way from every point to point. If there be a +line of gates across from one road to another he will use them, +but he will commit himself to a line of gates on the land of no +farmer who uses padlocks. + +As he trots along the road, occasionally breaking into a gallop +when he perceives from some sign known to him that the hunt is +turning from him, he is generally accompanied by two or three +unfortunates who have lost their way and have straggled from the +hounds; and to them he is a guide, philosopher, and friend. He is +good-natured for the moment, and patronizes the lost ones. He +informs them that they are at last in the right way, and consoles +them by assurances that they have lost nothing. + +"The fox broke, you know, from the sharp corner of Granby-wood," +he says; " the only spot that the crowd had left for him. I saw +him come out, standing on the bridge in the road. Then he ran up- +wind as far as Green's barn." " Of course he did," says one of +the unfortunates who thinks he remembers something of a barn in +the early part of the performance. "I was with the three or four +first as far as that." "There were twenty men before the hounds +there," says our man of the road, who is not without a grain of +sarcasm, and can use it when he is strong on his own ground. +"Well, he turned there, and ran back very near the corner; but he +was headed by a sheep-dog, luckily, and went to the left across +the brook." "Ah, that's where I lost them," says one unfortunate. +" I was with them miles beyond that," says another. "There were +five or six men rode the brook," continues our philosopher, who +names the four or five, not mentioning the unfortunate who had +spoken last as having been among the number. "Well; then he went +across by Ashby Grange, and tried the drain at the back of the +farmyard, but Bootle had had it stopped. A fox got in there one +day last March, and Bootle always stops it since that. So he had +to go on, and he crossed the turnpike close by Ashby Church. I +saw him cross, and the hounds were then full five minutes behind +him. He went through Frolic Wood, but he didn't hang a minute, +and right up the pastures to Morley Hall." "That's where I was +thrown out," says the unfortunate who had boasted before, and who +is still disposed to boast a little. But our philosopher assures +him that he has not in truth been near Morley Hall; and when the +unfortunate one makes an attempt to argue, puts him down +thoroughly. " All I can say is, you couldn't have been there and +be here too at this moment. Morley Hall is a mile and a half to +our right, and now they're coming round to the Linney. He'll go +into the little wood there, and as there isn't as much as a +nutshell open for him, they'll kill him there. It'll have been a +tidy little thing, but not very fast. I've hardly been out of a +trot yet, but we may as well move on now." Then he breaks into an +easy canter by the side of the road, while the unfortunates, who +have been rolling among the heavy-ploughed ground in the early +part of the day, make vain efforts to ride by his side. They keep +him, however, in sight, and are comforted; for he is a man with a +character, and knows what he is about. He will never be utterly +lost, and as long as they can remain in his company they will not +be subjected to that dreadful feeling of absolute failure which +comes upon an inexperienced sportsman when he finds himself quite +alone, and does not know which way to turn himself. + +A man will not learn to ride after this fashion in a day, nor yet +in a year. Of all fashions of hunting it requires, perhaps, the +most patience, the keenest observation, the strongest memory, and +the greatest efforts of intellect. But the power, when achieved, +has its triumph; it has its respect, and it has its admirers. Our +friend, while he was guiding the unfortunates on the road, knew +his position, and rode for a while as though he were a chief of +men. He was the chief of men there. He was doing what he knew how +to do, and was not failing. He had made no boasts which stern +facts would afterwards disprove. And when he rode up slowly to +the wood-side, having from a distance heard the huntsman's whoop +that told him of the fox's fate, he found that he had been right +in every particular. No one at that moment knows the line they +have all ridden as well as he knows it. But now, among the crowd, +when men are turning their horses' heads to the wind, and loud +questions are being asked, and false answers are being given, and +the ambitious men are congratulating themselves on their deeds, +he sits by listening in sardonic silence. "Twelve miles of ground +!" he says to himself, repeating the words of some valiant +youngster; " if it's eight, I'll eat it." And then when he +hears, for he is all ear as well as all eye, when he hears a +slight boast from one of his late unfortunate companions, a first +small blast of the trumpet which will become loud anon if it be +not checked, he smiles inwardly, and moralizes on the weakness of +human nature. But the man who never jumps is not usually of a +benevolent nature, and it is almost certain that he will make up +a little story against the boaster. + +Such is the amusement of the man who rides and never jumps. +Attached to every hunt there will be always one or two such men. +Their evidence is generally reliable; their knowledge of the +country is not to be doubted; they seldom come to any severe +trouble; and have usually made for themselves a very wide circle +of hunting acquaintances by whom they are quietly respected. But +I think that men regard them as they do the chaplain on board a +man-of-war, or as they would regard a herald on a field of +battle. When men are assembled for fighting, the man who +notoriously does not fight must feel himself to be somewhat lower +than his brethren around him, and must be so esteemed by others. + + + + +THE HUNTING PARSON. + +I feel some difficulty in dealing with the character I am now +about to describe. The world at large is very prone to condemn +the hunting parson, regarding him as a man who is false to his +profession; and, for myself, I am not prepared to say that the +world is wrong. Had my pastors and masters, my father and mother, +together with the other outward circumstances of my early life, +made a clergyman of me, I think that I should not have hunted, or +at least, I hope that I might have abstained; and yet, for the +life of me, I cannot see the reason against it, or tell any man +why a clergyman should not ride to hounds. In discussing the +subject, and I often do discuss it, the argument against the +practice which is finally adopted, the argument which is intended +to be conclusive, simply amounts to this, that a parish +clergyman who does his duty cannot find the time. But that +argument might be used with much more truth against other men of +business, against those to whose hunting the world takes no +exception. Indeed, of all men, the ordinary parish clergyman, is, +perhaps, the least liable to such censure. He lives in the +country, and can hunt cheaper and with less sacrifice of time +than other men. His professional occupation does not absorb all +his hours, and he is too often an idle man, whether he hunt or +whether he do not. Nor is it desirable that any man should work +always and never play. I think it is certainly the fact that a +clergyman may hunt twice a week with less objection in regard to +his time than any other man who has to earn his bread by his +profession. Indeed, this is so manifestly the case, that I am +sure that the argument in question, though it is the one which is +always intended to be conclusive, does not in the least convey +the objection which is really felt. The truth is, that a large +and most respectable section of the world still regards hunting +as wicked. It is supposed to be like the Cider Cellars or the +Haymarket at twelve o'clock at night. The old ladies know that +the young men go to these wicked places, and hope that no great +harm is done; but it would be dreadful to think that clergymen +should so degrade themselves. Now I wish I could make the old +ladies understand that hunting is not wicked. + +But although that expressed plea as to the want of time really +amounts to nothing, and although the unexpressed feeling of old +ladies as to the wickedness of hunting does not in truth amount +to much, I will not say that there is no other impediment in the +way of a hunting parson. Indeed, there have come up of late years +so many impediments in the way of any amusement on the part of +clergymen, that we must almost presume them to be divested at +their consecration of all human attributes except hunger and +thirst. In my younger days, and I am not as yet very old, an +elderly clergyman might play his rubber of whist whilst his +younger reverend brother was dancing a quadrille; and they might +do this without any risk of a rebuke from a bishop, or any +probability that their neighbours would look askance at them. +Such recreations are now unclerical in the highest degree, or if +not in the highest, they are only one degree less so than +hunting. The theatre was especially a respectable clerical +resource, and we may still occasionally see heads of colleges in +the stalls, or perhaps a dean, or some rector, unambitious of +further promotion. But should a young curate show himself in the +pit, he would be but a lost sheep of the house of Israel. And +latterly there went forth, at any rate in one diocese, a firman +against cricket ! Novels, too, are forbidden; though the fact +that they may be enjoyed in solitude saves the clergy from +absolute ignorance as to that branch of our national literature. +All this is hard upon men who, let them struggle as they may to +love the asceticisms of a religious life, are only men; and it +has a strong tendency to keep out of the Church that very +class, the younger sons of country gentlemen, whom all Churchmen +should wish to see enter it. Young men who think of the matter +when the time for taking orders is coming near, do not feel +themselves qualified to rival St. Paul in their lives; and they +who have not thought of it find themselves to be cruelly used +when they are expected to make the attempt. + +But of all the amusements which a layman may follow and a +clergyman may not, hunting is thought to be by much the worst. +There is a savour of wickedness about it in the eyes of the old +ladies which almost takes it out of their list of innocent +amusements even for laymen. By the term old ladies it will be +understood, perhaps, that I do not allude simply to matrons and +spinsters who may be over the age of sixty, but to that most +respectable portion of the world which has taught itself to abhor +the pomps and vanities. Pomps and vanities are undoubtedly bad, +and should be abhorred; but it behooves those who thus take upon +themselves the duties of censors to be sure that the practices +abhorred are in truth real pomps and actual vanities, not pomps +and vanities of the imagination. Now as to hunting, I maintain +that it is of itself the most innocent amusement going, and that +it has none of that Cider-Cellar flavour with which the old +ladies think that it is so savoury. Hunting is done by a crowd; +but men who meet together to do wicked things meet in small +parties. Men cannot gamble in the hunting-field, and drinking +there is more difficult than in almost any other scene of life. +Anonyma, as we were told the other day, may show herself; but if +so, she rides alone. The young man must be a brazen sinner, too +far gone for hunting to hurt him, who will ride with Anonyma in +the field. I know no vice which hunting either produces or +renders probable, except the vice of extravagance; and to that, +if a man be that way given, every pursuit in life will equally +lead him A seat for a Metropolitan borough, or a love of +ortolans, or a taste even for new boots will ruin a man who puts +himself in the way of ruin. The same may be said of hunting, the +same and no more. + +But not the less is the general feeling very strong against the +hunting parson; and not the less will it remain so in spite of +anything that I may say. Under these circumstances our friend the +hunting parson usually rides as though he were more or less under +a cloud. The cloud is not to be seen in a melancholy brow or a +shamed demeanour; for the hunting parson will have lived down +those feelings, and is generally too forcible a man to allow +himself to be subjected to such annoyances; nor is the cloud to +be found in any gentle tardiness of his motions, or an attempt at +suppressed riding; for the hunting parson generally rides hard. +Unless he loved hunting much he would not be there. But the cloud +is to be perceived and heard in the manner in which he speaks of +himself and his own doings. He is never natural in his self-talk +as is any other man. He either flies at his own cloth at once, +marring some false apology for his presence, telling you that he +is there just to see the hounds, and hinting to you his own know +ledge that he has no business to ride after them; or else he +drops his profession altogether, and speaks to you in a tone +which makes you feel that you would not dare to speak to him +about his parish. You can talk to the banker about his banking, +the brewer about his brewing, the farmer about his barley, or the +landlord about his land; but to a hunting parson of this latter +class, you may not say a word about his church. + +There are three modes in which a hunting parson may dress himself +for hunting, the variations having reference solely to the +nether man. As regards the upper man there can never be a +difference. A chimney-pot hat, a white neckerchief, somewhat +broad in its folds and strong with plentiful starch, a stout +black coat, cut rather shorter than is common with clergymen, and +a modest, darksome waistcoat that shall attract no +attention, these are all matters of course. But the observer, if +he will allow his eye to descend below these upper garments, will +perceive that the clergyman may be comfortable and bold in +breeches, or he may be uncomfortable and semi-decorous in black +trowsers. And there is another mode of dress open to him, which I +can assure my readers is not an unknown costume, a tertium quid, +by which semi-decorum and comfort are combined. The hunting +breeches are put on first, and the black trowsers are drawn over +them. + +But in whatever garb the hunting parson may ride, he almost +invariably rides well, and always enjoys the sport. If he did +not, what would tempt him to run counter, as he does, to his +bishop and the old ladies ? And though, when the hounds are first +dashing out of covert, and when the sputtering is beginning and +the eager impetuosity of the young is driving men three at a time +into the same gap, when that wild excitement of a fox just away +is at its height, and ordinary sportsmen are rushing for +places, though at these moments the hunting parson may be able +to restrain himself, and to declare by his momentary tranquillity +that he is only there to see the hounds, he will ever be found, +seeing the hounds also, when many of that eager crowd have lagged +behind, altogether out of sight of the last tail of them. He will +drop into the running, as it were out of the clouds, when the +select few have settled down steadily to their steady work; and +the select few will never look upon him as one who, after that, +is likely to fall out of their number. He goes on certainly to +the kill, and then retires a little out of the circle, as though +he had trotted in at that spot from his ordinary parochial +occupations, just to see the hounds. + +For myself I own that I like the hunting parson. I generally find +him to be about the pleasantest man in the field, with the most +to say for himself, whether the talk be of hunting, of politics, +of literature, or of the country. He is never a hunting man +unalloyed, unadulterated, and unmixed, a class of man which is +perhaps of all classes the most tedious and heavy in hand. The +tallow-chandler who can talk only of candles, or the barrister +who can talk only of his briefs, is very bad; but the hunting man +who can talk only of his runs, is, I think, worse even than the +unadulterated tallow-chandler, or the barrister unmixed. Let me +pause for a moment here to beg young sportsmen not to fall into +this terrible mistake. Such bores in the field are, alas, too +common; but the hunting parson never sins after that fashion. +Though a keen sportsman, he is something else besides a +sportsman, and for that reason, if for no other, is always a +welcome addition to the crowd. + +But still I must confess at the end of this paper, as I hinted +also at the beginning of it, that the hunting parson seems to +have made a mistake. He is kicking against the pricks, and +running counter to that section of the world which should be his +section. He is making himself to stink in the nostrils of his +bishop, and is becoming a stumbling-block, and a rock of offence +to his brethren. It is bootless for him to argue, as I have here +argued, that his amusement is in itself innocent, and that some +open-air recreation is necessary to him. Grant him that the +bishops and old ladies are wrong and that he is right in +principle, and still he will not be justified. Whatever may be +our walk in life, no man can walk well who does not walk with the +esteem of his fellows. Now those little walks by the covert +sides, those pleasant little walks of which I am writing, are +not, unfortunately, held to be estimable, or good for themselves, +by English clergymen in general. + + + + +THE MASTER OF HOUNDS. + +The master of hounds best known by modern description is the +master of the Jorrocks type. Now, as I take it, this is not the +type best known by English sportsmen, nor do the Jorrocks ana, +good though they be, give any fair picture of such a master of +hounds as ordinarily presides over the hunt in English counties. +Mr. Jorrocks comes into a hunt when no one else can be found to +undertake the work; when, in want of any one better, the +subscribers hire his services as those of an upper +servant; when, in fact, the hunt is at a low ebb, and is +struggling for existence. Mr. Jorrocks with his carpet-bag then +makes his appearance, driving the hardest bargain that he can, +purposing to do the country at the lowest possible figure, +followed by a short train of most undesirable nags, with +reference to which the wonder is that Mr. Jorrocks should be able +to induce any hunting servant to trust his neck to their custody. +Mr. Jorrocks knows his work, and is generally a most laborious +man. Hunting is his profession, but it is one by which he can +barely exist. He hopes to sell a horse or two during the season, +and in this way adds something of the trade of a dealer to his +other trade. But his office is thankless, ill-paid, closely +watched, and subject to all manner of indignities. Men suspect +him, and the best of those who ride with him will hardly treat +him as their equal. He is accepted as a disagreeable necessity, +and is dismissed as soon as the country can do better for itself. +Any hunt that has subjected itself to Mr. Jorrocks knows that it +is in disgrace, and will pass its itinerant master on to some +other district as soon as it can suit itself with a proper master +of the good old English sort. + +It is of such a master as this, a master of the good old English +sort, and not of an itinerant contractor for hunting, that I +here intend to speak. Such a master is usually an old resident in +the county which he hunts; one of those country noblemen or +gentlemen whose parks are the glory of our English landscape, and +whose names are to be found in the pages of our county records; +or if not that, he is one who, with a view to hunting, has +brought his family and fortune into a new district, and has found +a ready place as a country gentleman among new neighbours. It has +been said that no one should become a member of Parliament unless +he be a man of fortune. I hold such a rule to be much more true +with reference to a master of hounds. For his own sake this +should be so, and much more so for the sake of those over whom he +has to preside. It is a position in which no man can be popular +without wealth, and it is a position which no man should seek to +fill unless he be prepared to spend his money for the +gratification of others. It has been said of masters of hounds +that they must always have their hands in their pockets, and must +always have a guinea to find there; and nothing can be truer than +this if successful hunting is to be expected. Men have hunted +countries, doubtless, on economical principles, and the sport has +been carried on from year to year; but under such circumstances +it is ever dwindling and becoming frightfully less. The foxes +disappear, and when found almost instantly sink below ground. +Distant coverts, which are ever the best because less frequently +drawn, are deserted, for distance of course adds greatly to +expense. The farmers round the centre of the county become +sullen, and those beyond are indifferent; and so, from bad to +worse, the famine goes on till the hunt has perished of atrophy. +Grease to the wheels, plentiful grease to the wheels, is needed +in all machinery; but I know of no machinery in which everrunning +grease is so necessary as in the machinery of hunting. + +Of such masters as I am now describing there are two sorts, of +which, however, the one is going rapidly and, I think, happily +out of fashion. There is the master of hounds who takes a +subscription, and the master who takes none. Of the latter class +of sportsman, of the imperial head of a country who looks upon +the coverts of all his neighbours as being almost his own +property, there are, I believe, but few left. Nor is such +imperialism fitted for the present age. In the days of old of +which we read so often, the days of Squire Western, when fox- +hunting was still young among us, this was the fashion in which +all hunts were maintained. Any country gentleman who liked the +sport kept a small pack of hounds, and rode over his own lands or +the lands of such of his neighbours as had no similar +establishments of their own. We never hear of Squire Western that +he hunted the county, or that he went far afield to his meets. +His tenants joined him, and by degrees men came to his hunt from +greater distances around him. As the necessity for space +increased, increasing from increase of hunting ambition, the +richer and more ambitious squires began to undertake the +management of wider areas, and so our hunting districts were +formed. But with such extension of area there came, of course, +necessity of extended expenditure, and so the fashion of +subscription lists arose. There have remained some few great +Nimrods who have chosen to be magnanimous and to pay for +everything, despising the contributions of their followers. Such +a one was the late Earl Fitzhardinge, and after such manner in, +as I believe, the Berkeley hunt still conducted. But it need +hardly be explained, that as hunting is now conducted in England, +such a system is neither fair nor palatable. It is not fair that +so great a cost for the amusement of other men should fall upon +any one man's pocket; nor is it palatable to others that such +unlimited power should be placed in any one man's hands. The +ordinary master of subscription hounds is no doubt autocratic, +but he is not autocratic with all the power of tyranny which +belongs to the despot who rules without taxation. I doubt whether +any master of a subscription pack would advertise his meets for +eleven, with an understanding that the hounds were never to move +till twelve, when he intended to be present in person. Such was +the case with Lord Fitzhardinge, and I do not know that it was +generally thought that he carried his power too far. And I think, +too, that gentlemen feel that they ride with more pleasure when +they themselves contribute to the cost of their own amusement. + +Our master of hounds shall be a country gentleman who takes a +subscription, and who therefore, on becoming autocratic, makes +himself answerable to certain general rules for the management of +his autocracy. He shall hunt not less, let us say, than three +days a week; but though not less, it will be expected probably +that he will hunt oftener. That is, he will advertise three days +and throw a byeday in for the benefit of his own immediate +neighbourhood; and these byedays, it must be known, are the cream +of hunting, for there is no crowd, and the foxes break sooner and +run straighter. And he will be punctual to his time, giving +quarter to none and asking none himself. He will draw fairly +through the day, and indulge no caprices as to coverts. The laws, +indeed, are never written, but they exist and are understood; and +when they be too recklessly disobeyed, the master of hounds falls +from his high place and retires into private life, generally +with a broken heart. In the hunting field, as in all other +communities, republics, and governments, the power of the purse +is everything. As long as that be retained, the despotism of the +master is tempered and his rule will be beneficent. + +Five hundred pounds a day is about the sum which a master should +demand for hunting an average country, that is, so many times +five hundred pounds a year as he may hunt days in the week. If +four days a week be required of him, two thousand a year will be +little enough. But as a rule, I think masters are generally +supposed to charge only for the advertised days, and to give the +byedays out of their own pocket. Nor must it be thought that the +money so subscribed will leave the master free of expense. As I +have said before, he should be a rich man. Whatever be the +subscription paid to him, he must go beyond it, very much beyond +it, or there will grow up against him a feeling that he is mean, +and that feeling will rob him of all his comfort. Hunting men in +England wish to pay for their own amusement; but they desire that +more shall be spent than they pay. And in this there is a rough +justice, that roughness of justice which pervades our English +institutions. To a master of hounds is given a place of great +influence, and into his hands is confided an authority the +possession of which among his fellow-sportsmen is very pleasant +to him. For this he is expected to pay, and he does pay for it. A +Lord Mayor is, I take it, much in the same category. He has a +salary as Lord Mayor, but if he do not spend more than that on +his office he becomes a byword for stinginess among Lord Mayors +To be Lord Mayor is his whistle, and he pays for it. + +For myself, if I found myself called upon to pay for one whistle +or the other, I would sooner be a master of hounds than a Lord +Mayor. The power is certainly more perfect, and the situation, I +think, more splendid. The master of hounds has no aldermen, no +common council, no liverymen. As long as he fairly performs his +part of the compact, he is altogether without control. He is not +unlike the captain of a man-of-war; but, unlike the captain of a +man-of-war, he carries no sailing orders. He is free to go where +he lists, and is hardly expected to tell any one whither he +goeth. He is enveloped in a mystery which, to the young, adds +greatly to his grandeur; and he is one of those who, in spite of +the democratic tenderness of the age, may still be said to go +about as a king among men. No one contradicts him. No one speaks +evil of him to his face; and men tremble when they have whispered +anything of some half-drawn covert, of some unstopped earth, some +fox that should not have escaped, and, looking round, see that +the master is within earshot. He is flattered, too, if that be of +any avail to him. How he is flattered ! What may be done in this +way to Lord Mayors by common councilmen who like Mansion-house +crumbs, I do not know; but kennel crumbs must be very sweet to a +large class of sportsmen. Indeed, they are so sweet that almost +every man will condescend to flatter the master of hounds. And +ladies too, all the pretty girls delight to be spoken to by the +master ! He needs no introduction, but is free to sip all the +sweets that come. Who will not kiss the toe of his boots, or +refuse to be blessed by the sunshine of his smile ? + +But there are heavy duties, deep responsibilities, and much true +heart-felt anxiety to stand as makeweight against all these +sweets. The master of hounds, even though he take no part in the +actual work of hunting his own pack, has always his hands full of +work. He is always learning, and always called upon to act on his +knowledge suddenly. A Lord Mayor may sit at the Mansionhouse, I +think, without knowing much of the law. He may do so without +discovery of his ignorance. But the master of hounds who does not +know his business is seen through at once. To say what that +business is would take a paper longer than this, and the precept +writer by no means considers himself equal to such a task. But it +is multifarious, and demands a special intellect for itself. The +master should have an eye like an eagle's, an ear like a thief's, +and a heart like a dog's that can be either soft or ruthless as +occasion may require. How he should love his foxes, and with what +pertinacity he should kill them! How he should rejoice when his +skill has assisted in giving the choice men of his hunt a run +that they can remember for the next six years ! And how heavy +should be his heart within him when he trudges home with them, +weary after a blank day, to the misery of which his incompetency +has, perhaps, contributed ! A master of hounds should be an +anxious man; so anxious that the privilege of talking to pretty +girls should be of little service to him. + +One word I will say as to the manners of a master of hounds, and +then I will have done. He should be an urbane man, but not too +urbane; and he should certainly be capable of great austerity. It +used to be said that no captain of a man-of-war could hold his +own without swearing. I will not quite say the same of a master +of hounds, or the old ladies who think hunting to be wicked will +have a handle against me. But I will declare that if any man +could be justified in swearing, it would be a master of hounds. +The troubles of the captain are as nothing to his. The captain +has the ultimate power of the sword, or at any rate of the +fetter, in his hands, while the master has but his own tongue to +trust, his tongue and a certain influence which his position +gives him. The master who can make that influence suffice without +swearing is indeed a great man. Now-a-days swearing is so +distasteful to the world at large, that great efforts are made to +rule without it, and some such efforts are successful; but any +man who has hunted for the last twenty years will bear me out in +saying that hard words in a master's mouth used to be considered +indispensable. Now and then a little irony is tried. "I wonder, +sir, how much you'd take to go home ?" I once heard a master ask +of a red-coated stranger who was certainly more often among the +hounds than he need have been. "Nothing on earth, sir, while you +carry on as you are doing just at present," said the stranger. +The master accepted the compliment, and the stranger sinned no +more. + +There are some positions among mankind which are so peculiarly +blessed that the owners of them seem to have been specially +selected by Providence for happiness on earth in a degree +sufficient to raise the malice and envy of all the world around. +An English country gentleman with ten thousand a year must have +been so selected. Members of Parliament with seats for counties +have been exalted after the same unjust fashion. Popular masters +of old-established hunts sin against their fellows in the same +way. But when it comes to a man to fill up all these positions in +England, envy and malice must be dead in the land if he be left +alive to enjoy their fruition. + + + + +HOW TO RIDE TO HOUNDS + +Now attend me, Diana and the Nymphs, Pan, Orion, and the Satyrs, +for I have a task in hand which may hardly be accomplished +without some divine aid. And the lesson I would teach is one as +to which even gods must differ, and no two men will ever hold +exactly the same opinion. Indeed, no written lesson, no spoken +words, no lectures, be they ever so often repeated, will teach +any man to ride to hounds. The art must come of nature and of +experience; and Orion, were he here, could only tell the tyro of +some few blunders which he may avoid, or give him a hint or two +as to the manner in which he should begin. + +Let it be understood that I am speaking of fox-hunting, and let +the young beginner always remember that in hunting the fox a pack +of hounds is needed. The huntsman, with his servants, and all the +scarlet-coated horsemen in the field, can do nothing towards the +end for which they are assembled without hounds. He who as yet +knows nothing of hunting will imagine that I am laughing at him +in saying this; but, after a while, he will know how needful it +is to bear in mind the caution I here give him, and will see how +frequently men seem to forget that a fox cannot be hunted without +hounds. A fox is seen to break from the covert, and men ride +after it; the first man, probably, being some cunning sinner, who +would fain get off alone if it were possible, and steal a march +upon the field. But in this case one knave makes many fools; and +men will rush, and ride along the track of the game, as though +they could hunt it, and will destroy the scent before the hounds +are on it, following, in their ignorance, the footsteps of the +cunning sinner. Let me beg my young friend not to be found among +this odious crowd of marplots. His business is to ride to hounds; +and let him do so from the beginning of the run, persevering +through it all, taking no mean advantages, and allowing himself +to be betrayed into as few mistakes as possible; but let him not +begin before the beginning. If he could know all that is inside +the breast of that mean man who commenced the scurry, the cunning +man who desires to steal a march, my young friend would not wish +to emulate him. With nine-tenths of the men who flutter away +after this ill fashion there is no design of their own in their +so riding. They simply wish to get away, and in their impatience +forget the little fact that a pack of hounds is necessary for the +hunting of a fox. + +I have found myself compelled to begin with this preliminary +caution, as all riding to hounds hangs on the fact in question. +Men cannot ride to hounds if the hounds be not there. They may +ride one after another, and that, indeed, suffices for many a +keen sportsman; but I am now addressing the youth who is +ambitious of riding to hounds. But though I have thus begun, +striking first at the very root of the matter, I must go back +with my pupil into the covert before I carry him on through the +run. In riding to hounds there is much to do before the straight +work commences. Indeed, the straight work is, for the man, the +easiest work, or the work, I should say, which may be done with +the least previous knowledge. Then the horse, with his qualities, +comes into play; and if he be up to his business in skill, +condition, and bottom, a man may go well by simply keeping with +others who go well also. Straight riding, however, is the +exception and not the rule. It comes sometimes, and is the cream +of hunting when it does come; but it does not come as often as +the enthusiastic beginner will have taught himself to expect. + +But now we will go back to the covert, and into the covert if it +be a large one. I will speak of three kinds of coverts, the +gorse, the wood, and the forest. There are others, but none other +so distinct as to require reference. As regards the gorse covert, +which of all is the most delightful, you, my disciple, need only +be careful to keep in the crowd when it is being drawn. You must +understand that if the plantation which you see before you, and +which is the fox's home and homestead, be surrounded, the owner +of it will never leave it. A fox will run back from a child among +a pack of hounds, so much more terrible is to him the human race +even than the canine. The object of all men of course is that the +fox shall go, and from a gorse covert of five acres he must go +very quickly or die among the hounds. It will not be long before +he starts if there be space left for him to creep out, as he will +hope, unobserved. Unobserved he will not be, for the accustomed +eye of some whip or servant will have seen him from a corner. But +if stray horsemen roaming round the gorse give him no room for +such hope, he will not go. All which is so plainly intelligible, +that you, my friend, will not fail to understand why you are +required to remain with the crowd. And with simple gorse coverts +there is no strong temptation to move about. They are drawn +quickly, and though there be a scramble for places when the fox +has broken, the whole thing is in so small a compass that there +is no difficulty in getting away with the hounds. In finding your +right place, and keeping it when it is found, you may have +difficulty; but in going away from a gorse the field will be open +for you, and when the hounds are well out and upon the scent, +then remember your Latin; Occupet extremum scabies. + +But for one fox found in a gorse you will, in ordinary countries, +see five found in woods; and as to the place and conduct of a +hunting man while woods are being drawn, there is room for much +doubt. I presume that you intend to ride one horse throughout the +day, and that you wish to see all the hunting that may come in +your way. This being so, it will be your study to economize your +animal's power, and to keep him fresh for the run when it comes. +You will hardly assist your object in this respect by seeing the +wood drawn, and galloping up and down the rides as the fox +crosses and recrosses from one side of it to another. Such rides +are deep with mud, and become deeper as the work goes on; and +foxes are very obstinate, running, if the covert be thick, often +for an hour together without an attempt at breaking, and being +driven back when they do attempt by the horsemen whom they see on +all sides of them. It is very possible to continue at this work, +seeing the hounds hunt, with your ears rather than your +eyes, till your nag has nearly done his day's work. He will +still carry you perhaps throughout a good run, but he will not do +so with that elasticity which you will love; and then, after +that, the journey home is, it is occasionally something almost +too frightful to be contemplated. You can, therefore, if it so +please you, station yourself with other patient long-suffering, +mindful men at some corner, or at some central point amidst the +rides, biding your time, consoling yourself with cigars, and not +swearing at the vile perfidious, unfoxlike fox more frequently +than you can help. For the fox on such occasions will be abused +with all the calumnious epithets which the ingenuity of angry men +can devise, because he is exercising that ingenuity the +possession of which on his part is the foundation of fox-hunting. +There you will remain, nursing your horse, listening to chaff, +and hoping. But even when the fox does go, your difficulties may +be but beginning. + +It is possible he may have gone on your side of the wood; but +much more probable that he should have taken the other. He loves +not that crowd that has been abusing him, and steals away from +some silent distant corner. You, who are a beginner, hear nothing +of his going; and when you rush off, as you will do with others, +you will hardly know at first why the rush is made. But some one +with older eyes and more experienced ears has seen signs and +heard sounds, and knows that the fox is away. Then, my friend, +you have your place to win, and it may be that the distance shall +be too great to allow of your winning it. Nothing but experience +will guide you safely through these difficulties. + +In drawing forests or woodlands your course is much clearer. +There is no question, then, of standing still and waiting with +patience, tobacco, and chaff for the coming start. The area to be +drawn is too large to admit of waiting, and your only duty is to +stay as close to the hounds as your ears and eyes will +permit, remembering always that your ears should serve you much +more often than your eyes. And in woodland hunting that which you +thus see and hear is likely to be your amusement for the day. +There is "ample room and verge enough" to run a fox down without +any visit to the open country, and by degrees, as a true love of +hunting comes upon you in place of a love of riding, you will +learn to think that a day among the woodlands is a day not badly +spent. At first, when after an hour and a half the fox has been +hunted to his death, or has succeeded in finding some friendly +hole, you will be wondering when the fun is going to begin. Ah +me! how often have I gone through all the fun, have seen the fun +finished, and then have wondered when it was going to begin; and +that, too, in other things besides hunting ! + +But at present the fun shall not be finished, and we will go back +to the wood from which the fox is just breaking. You, my pupil, +shall have been patient, and your patience shall be rewarded by a +good start. On the present occasion I will give you the exquisite +delight of knowing that you are there, at the spot, as the hounds +come out of the covert. Your success, or want of success, +throughout the run will depend on the way in which you may now +select to go over the three or four first fields. It is not +difficult to keep with hounds if you can get well away with them, +and be with them when they settle to their running. In a long and +fast run your horse may, of course, fail you. That must depend on +his power and his condition. But, presuming your horse to be able +to go, keeping with hounds is not difficult when you are once +free from the thick throng of the riders. And that thick throng +soon makes itself thin. The difficulty is in the start, and you +will almost be offended when I suggest to you what those +difficulties are, and suggest also that such as they are even +they may overcome you. You have to choose your line of riding. Do +not let your horse choose it for you instead of choosing it for +yourself. He will probably make such attempts, and it is not at +all improbable that you should let him have his way. Your horse +will be as anxious to go as you are, but his anxiety will carry +him after some other special horse on which he has fixed his +eyes. The rider of that horse may not be the guide that you would +select. But some human guide you must select. Not at first will +you, not at first does any man, choose for himself with serene +precision of confident judgment the line which he will take. You +will be flurried, anxious, self-diffident, conscious of your own +ignorance, and desirous of a leader. Many of those men who are +with you will have objects at heart very different from your +object. Some will ride for certain points, thinking that they can +foretell the run of the fox. They may be right; but you, in your +new ambition, are not solicitous to ride away to some other +covert because the fox may, perchance, be going there. Some are +thinking of the roads. Others are remembering that brook which is +before them, and riding wide for a ford. With none such, as I +presume, do you wish to place yourself. Let the hounds be your +mark; and if, as may often be the case, you cannot see them, then +see the huntsman; or, if you cannot see him, follow, at any rate, +some one who does. If you can even do this as a beginner, you +will not do badly. + +But, whenever it be possible, let the hounds themselves be your +mark, and endeavour to remember that the leading hounds are those +which should guide you. A single hound who turns when he is +heading the pack should teach you to turn also. Of all the hounds +you see there in the open, probably not one-third are hunting. +The others are doing as you do, following where their guides lead +them. It is for you to follow the real guide, and not the +followers, if only you can keep the real guide in view. To keep +the whole pack in view and to ride among them is easy enough when +the scent is slack and the pace is slow. At such times let me +counsel you to retire somewhat from the crowd, giving place to +those eager men who are breaking the huntsman's heart. When the +hounds have come nearer to their fox, and the pace is again good, +then they will retire and make room for you. + +Not behind hounds, but alongside of them, if only you can +achieve such position, it should be your honour and glory to +place yourself; and you should go so far wide of them as in no +way to impede them or disturb them, or even to remind them of +your presence. If thus you live with them, turning as they turn, +but never turning among them, keeping your distance, but losing +no yard, and can do this for seven miles over a grass country in +forty-five minutes, then you can ride to hounds better than +nineteen men out of every twenty that you have seen at the meet, +and will have enjoyed the keenest pleasure that hunting, or +perhaps, I may say, that any other amusement, can give you. + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Hunting Sketches by Trollope + diff --git a/old/hntsk10.zip b/old/hntsk10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0c01c03 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/hntsk10.zip |
