No man in the world ever lifted a horse over anything--it is a mechanical impossibility--but a horseman of the first order can at a critical moment so rouse a horse, and so accurately place his head and hind-legs in the right position, that he can make an extraordinary effort and achieve a miraculous leap. This in metaphorical language is called lifting a horse, because, to a bye-stander, it looks like it. But when a novice, or even an average horseman, attempts this sort of _tour de force_, he only worries his horse, and, ten to one, throws him into the fence. Those who are wise will content themselves with keeping a horse well in hand until he is about to rise for his effort, and to collecting him the moment he lands. The right hold brings his hind legs under him; too hard a pull brings him into the ditch, if there is one.
By holding your hands with the reins in each rather wide apart as you come towards your fence, and closing them and dropping them near his withers as he rises, you give him room to extend himself; and if you stretch your arms as he descends, you have him in hand. But the perfect hunter, as long as he is fresh, does his work perfectly, so the less you meddle with him when he is rising the better.
Young sportsmen generally err by being too bold and too fast. Instead of studying the art in the way the best men out perform, they are hiding their nervousness by going full speed at everything, or trying to rival the whips in daring. Any hard-headed fool can ride boldly. To go well when hounds are running hard--to save your horse as much as possible while keeping well forward, for the end, the difficult part of a long run--these are the acts a good sportsman seeks to acquire by observation and experience.
For this reason young sportsmen should commence their studies with harriers, where the runs are usually circling and a good deal of hunting is done slowly. If a young fellow can ride well in a close, enclosed hedge, bank, and ditch country, with occasional practice at stiles and gates, pluck will carry him through a flying country, if properly mounted.
Any horse that is formed for jumping, with good loins, hocks, and thighs, can be taught to jump timber; but it is madness to ride at a gate or a stile with a doubtful horse. A deer always slacks his pace to a trot to jump a wall or park rails, and it is better to slacken to a trot or canter where there is no ditch on either side to be cleared, unless you expect a fall, and then go fast, that your horse may not tumble on you.
A rushing horse is generally a dangerous fencer; but it is a trick that can only be cured in private lessons, and it is more dangerous to try to make a rusher go slowly than to let him have his own way.
The great error of young beginners is to select young horses under their weight.
It was the saying of a Judge of the old school, that all kinds of wine were good, but the best wine of all was "two bottles of port!" In the same style, one may venture to say that all kinds of hunting are good, but that the best of all is fox-hunting, in a gra.s.s scent-holding country, divided into large fields, with fences that may be taken in the stride of a thorough-bred, and coverts that comprise good gorse and open woods--that is, for men of the weight, with the nerve, and with the horses that can shine in such a country. But it is not given to all to have or retain the nerve or to afford a stud of the style of horses required for going across the best part of Leicestershire and Northamptonshire. In this world, the way to be happy is to put up with what you can get. The majority of my readers will be obliged to ride with the hounds that happen to live nearest their dwelling; it is only given to the few to be able to choose their hunting country and change their stud whenever the maggot bites them. After hard brain-work and gray hairs have told on the pulse, or when the opening of the nursery-door has almost shut the stable, a couple of hours or so once a week may be made pleasant and profitable on a thirty-pound hack for the quartogenarian, whom time has not handicapped with weight for age. I can say, from the experience of many years, that as long as you are under twelve stone, you may enjoy very good sport with such packs as the Bramham Moor in Yorkshire, the Brocklesby in Lincolnshire, the Heythrope in Oxfordshire, the Berkley or the Beaufort in Gloucestershire, without any enormous outlay for horses, for the simple reason that the average runs do not present the difficulties of gra.s.s countries, where farmers are obliged to make strong fences and deep ditches to keep the bullocks they fatten within bounds. Good-looking little horses, clever jumpers, equal to moderate weights, are to be had, by a man who has not too much money, at moderate prices; but the sixteen hands, well-bred flyer, that can gallop and go straight in such countries as the Vale of Aylesbury, is an expensive luxury. Of course I am speaking of sound horses. There is scarcely ever a remarkable run in which some well-ridden screw does not figure in the first flight among the two hundred guinea nags.
When an old sportsman of my acquaintance heard any of the thousand-and-one tales of extraordinary runs with fox-hounds, "after dinner," he used to ask--"Were any of the boys or ponies up at the kill?" If the answer was "Yes," he would say, "Then it was not a severe thing;" and he was generally right. Men of moderate means had better choose a hunting county where the boys can live with the hounds.
"As to harriers, the people who sneer at them are ludicrously ignorant of the history of modern fox-hunting, which is altogether founded on the experience and maxims of hare-hunters. The two oldest fox-hound packs in England--the Brocklesby and the Cheshire--were originally formed for hare-hunting. The best book ever written on hounds and hunting, a text-book to every master of hounds to this day, is by Beckford, who learned all he knew as master of a pack of harriers.
"The great Meynell and Warwickshire Corbett both entered their young hounds to hare, a practice which cannot, however, be approved. The late Parson Froude, in North Devon, than whom a keener sportsman never holloaed to hounds, and the breeder of one of the best packs for showing sport ever seen, hunted hare, fox, deer, and even polecats, sooner than not keep his darlings doing something; and, while his hounds would puzzle out the faintest scent, there were among the leaders several that, with admirable dash, jumped every gate, disdaining to creep. Some of this stock are still hunting on Exmoor. There are at present several very good M.F.H. who began with hare-hounds.
"The intense pretentious sn.o.bbishness of the age has something to do with the mysterious manner in which many men, blushing, own that they have been out with harriers. In the first place, as a rule, harriers are slow; although there are days when, with a stout, well-fed, straight-running hare, the best men will have enough to do to keep their place in the field: over the dinner-table that is always an easy task; but in this fast, compet.i.tive age, the man who can contrive to stick on a good horse can show in front without having the least idea of the meaning of hunting. To such, harriers afford no amus.e.m.e.nt. Then again, harrier packs are of all degrees, from the perfection of the Blackmoor Vale, the Brookside, and some Devon or Welsh packs with unp.r.o.nounceable names, down to the little scratch packs of six or seven couple kept among jovial farmers in out-of-the-way places, or for the amus.e.m.e.nt of Sheffield cutlers running afoot. The same failing that makes a considerable cla.s.s reverently worship an alderman or a city baronet until they can get on speaking terms with a peer, leads others to boast of fox-hunting when the Brighton harriers are more than they can comfortably manage."
The greater number of what are called harriers now-a-days are dwarf fox-hounds, or partake largely of fox-hound blood.
If Leicestershire is the county for "swells," Devonshire is the county of sportsmen; for although there is very little riding to hounds as compared with the midland counties, there is a great deal of hunting.
Every village has its little pack; every man, woman, and child, from the highest to the humblest, takes an interest in the sport; and the science of hunting is better understood than in the hard-riding, horse-dealing counties. To produce a finished fox-hunter, I would have him commence his studies in Devonshire, and finish his practice in Northamptonshire.
On the whole, I should say that a student of the n.o.ble science, whose early education has been neglected, cannot do better than go through a course of fox-hunting near Oxford, in the winter vacation, where plenty of perfect hunters are to be hired, and hounds meet within easy reach of the University City, six days in the week, hunting over a country where you may usually be with them at the finish without doing anything desperate, if content to come in with the ruck, the ponies, and the old farmers; or where, if so inclined, you may have more than an average number of fast and furious runs, and study the admirable style of some of the best hors.e.m.e.n in the world among the Oxfordshire and Berkshire squires.
Stag-hunting from a cart is a pursuit very generally contemned in print, and very ardently followed by many hundred hard-riding gentlemen every hunting day in the year. A man who can ride up to stag-hounds on a straight running day must have a perfect hunter, in first-rate condition, and be, in the strongest sense of the term, "a horseman." But it wants the uncertainties which give so great a charm to fox-hunting, where there are any foxes. There is no find, and no finish; and the checks generally consist in whipping off the too eager hounds. As a compensation, when the deer does not run cunning, or along roads, the pace is tremendous.
The Surrey stag-hounds, in the season of 1857, had some runs with the Ketton Hind equal in every respect to the best fox-hunts on record; for she repeatedly beat them, was loose in the woods for days, was drawn for like a wild deer, and then, with a burning scent, ran clear away from the hounds, while the hounds ran away from the hors.e.m.e.n. But, according to the usual order of the day, the deer begins in a cart, and ends in a barn.
But stag-hunting may be defended as the very best mode of obtaining a const.i.tutional gallop for those whose time is too valuable to be expended in looking for a fox. It is suited to punctual, commercial, military, or political duties. You may read your letters, dictate replies, breakfast deliberately, order your dinner, and invite a party to discuss it, and set off to hunt with the Queen"s, the Baron"s, or any other stag-hound pack within reach of rail, almost certain of two hours"
galloping, and a return by the train you fixed in the morning.
There are a few hints to which pupils in the art of hunting may do well to attend.
"Don"t go into the field until you can sit a horse over any reasonable fence. But practice at real fences, for at the leaping-bar only the rudiments of fencing are to be learned by either man or horse. The hunting-field is not the place for practising the rudiments of the art.
Buy a perfect hunter; no matter how blemished or how ugly, so that he has legs, eyes, and wind to carry him and his rider across the country.
It is essential that one of the two should perfectly understand the business in hand. Have nothing to say to a puller, a rusher, or a kicker, even if you fancy you are competent; a colt should only be ridden by a man who is paid to risk his bones. An amateur endangers himself, his neighbours, and the pack, by attempting rough-riding. The best plan for a man of moderate means--those who can afford to spend hundreds on experiments can pick and choose in the best stables--is to hire a hack hunter; and, if he suits, buy him, to teach you how to go.
"Never take a jump when an open gate or gap is handy, unless the hounds are going fast. Don"t attempt to show in front, unless you feel you can keep there. Beginners, who try to make a display, even if lucky at first, are sure to make some horrid blunder. Go slowly at your fences, except water and wide ditches, and don"t pull at the curb when your horse is rising. In ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, the horse will be better without your a.s.sistance than with it. Don"t wear spurs until you are quite sure that you won"t spur at the wrong time. Never lose your temper with your horse, and never strike him with the whip when going at a fence; it is almost sure to make him swerve. Pick out the firmest ground; hold your horse together across ploughed land; if you want a pilot, choose not a scarlet and cap, but some well-mounted old farmer, who has not got a horse to sell: if he has, ten to one but he leads you into grief.
"In going from cover to cover, keep in the same field as the hounds, unless you know the country--then you can"t be left behind without a struggle. To keep in the same field as the hounds when they are running, is more than any man can undertake to do. Make your commencement in an easy country, and defer trying the pasture counties until you are sure of yourself and your horse.
"If you should have a cold-scenting day, and any first-rate steeplechase rider be in the field, breaking in a young one, watch him; you may learn more from seeing what he does, than from hours of advice, or pages of reading.
"Above all, hold your tongue until you have learnt your lesson; and talk neither of your triumphs nor your failures. Any fool can boast; and though to ride boldly and with judgment is very pleasant, there is nothing for a gentleman to be specially proud of, considering that two hundred huntsmen, or whips, do it better than most gentlemen every hunting day in the season."
When you meet the pack with a strange horse, don"t go near it until sure that he will not kick at hounds, as some ill-educated horses will do.
Before the hounds begin to draw, you may get some useful information as to a strange country from a talkative farmer.
When hounds are drawing a large cover, and when you cannot see them, keep down wind, so as to hear the huntsman, who, in large woodlands, must keep on cheering his hounds. When a fox breaks cover near you, or you think he does, don"t be in a hurry to give the "Tally-a-e-o!" for, in the first place, if you are not experienced and quick-eyed, it may not be a fox at all, but a dog, or a hare. The mistake is common to people who are always in a hurry, and equally annoying to the huntsman and the blunderer; and, in the next place, if you halloo too soon, ten to one the fox heads back into cover. When he is well away through the hedge of a good-sized field, halloo, at the same time raising your cap, "Tally-o aw-ay-o-o!" giving each syllable very slowly, and with your mouth well open; for this is the way to be heard a long distance. Do this once or twice, and then be quiet for a short spell, and be ready to tell the huntsman, when he comes up, in a few sentences, exactly which way the fox is gone. If the fox makes a short bolt, and returns, it is "Tally-o _back_!" with the "_back_" loud and clear. If the fox crosses the side of a wood when the hounds are at check, the cry should be "Tally-o over!"
_Foxes._--Study the change in the appearance of the fox between the beginning and the end of a run; a fresh fox slips away with his brush straight, whisking it with an air of defiance now and then; a beaten fox looks dark, hangs his brush, and arches his back as he labours along.
With the hounds well away, it is a great point to get a good start; so while they are running in cover, cast your eyes over the boundary-fence, and make up your mind where you will take it: a big jump at starting is better than thrusting with a crowd in a gap or gateway--always presuming that you can depend on your horse.
Dismiss the moment you start two ideas which are the bane of sport, jealousy of what others are doing, and conceit of what you are doing yourself; keep your eyes on the pack, on your horse"s ears, and the next fence, instead of burning to beat Thompson, or hoping that Brown saw how cleverly you got over that rasper!
Acquire an eye to hounds, that is, learn to detect the moment when the leading hound turns right or left, or, losing the scent, checks, or, catching it breast high, races away mute, "dropping his stem as straight as a tobacco-pipe."
By thus studying the leading hounds instead of racing against your neighbours" horses, you see how they turn, save many an angle, and are ready to pull up the moment the hounds throw up their heads.
Never let your anxiety to be forward induce you to press upon the hounds when they are hunting; nothing makes a huntsman more angry, or spoils sport more.
Set the example of getting out of the way when the huntsman, all anxious, comes trotting back through a narrow road to make his cast after a check.
Attention to these hints, which are familiar to every old sportsman, will tend to make a young one successful and popular.
When you are well up, and hounds come to a check, instead of beginning to relate how wonderfully the bay horse or the gray mare carried you, notice every point that may help the huntsman to make his cast--sheep, cattle, magpies, and the exact point where the scent began to fail. It is observation that makes a true sportsman.
As soon as the run has ended, begin to pay attention to the condition of your horse, whose spirit may have carried him further than his strength warranted; it is to be presumed, that you have eased him at every check by turning his nose to the wind, and if a heavy man, by dismounting on every safe opportunity.
The first thing is to let him have just enough water to wash his mouth out without chilling him. The next to feed him--the horse has a small stomach, and requires food often.
At the first roadside inn or cottage get a quart of oatmeal or wheat-flour _boiled_ in half a pail of water--mere soaking the raw oatmeal is not sufficient. I have found the water of boiled linseed used for cattle answer well with a tired horse. In cases of serious distress a pint of wine or gla.s.s of spirits mixed with water may be administered advantageously; to decide on the propriety of bleeding requires some veterinary experience; quite as many horses as men have been killed by bleeding when stimulants would have answered better.
With respect to the treatment of hunters on their return, I can do nothing better than quote the directions of that capital sportsman and horseman, Scrutator, in "Horses and Hounds."
"When a horse returns to the stable, either after hunting or a journey, the first thing to be done to him is to take off the bridle, but to let the saddle _remain on_ for some time at least, merely loosening the girths. The head and ears are first to be rubbed dry, either with a wisp of hay or a cloth, and then by the hand, until the ears are warm and comfortable; this will occupy only a few minutes, and the horse can then have his bit of hay or feed of corn, having previously, if returned from hunting, or from a long journey, despatched his bucket of thick gruel: the process of washing his legs may now be going on, whilst he is discussing his feed of corn in peace; as each leg is washed, it should be wrapped round with a flannel or serge bandage, and by the time the four legs are done with, the horse will have finished his feed of corn.
A little hay may then be given, which will occupy his attention while the rubbing his body is proceeded with. I am a great advocate for plenty of dry clean wheat straw for this purpose; and a good groom, with a large wisp in each hand, will in a very short s.p.a.ce of time make a clean sweep of all outward dirt and wet. It cannot, however, be properly done without a great deal of _elbow grease_ as well, of which the present generation are inclined to be very chary. When the body of the horse is dry, a large loose rug should be thrown over him, and the legs then attended to, and rubbed thoroughly dry by the hand; I know the usual practice with idle and knowing grooms is to let the bandages remain on until the legs become dry of themselves, but I also know that there cannot be a worse practice; for horses" legs, after hunting, the large knee-bucket should be used, with plenty of warm water, which will sooth the sinews after such violent exertion, and allay any irritation proceeding from cuts and thorns. The system of bandaging horses" legs, and letting them remain in this state for hours, must tend to relax the sinews; such practices have never gained favour with me, but I have heard salt and water and vinegar highly extolled by some, with which the bandages are to be kept constantly wet, as tending to strengthen the sinews and keep them cool; if, however, used too long or allowed to become dry, I conceive more injury likely to result from their use than benefit. It is generally known that those who have recourse to belts for support in riding, cannot do well without them afterwards, and although often advised to try these extra aids, I never availed myself of them; cold water is the best strengthener either to man or horse, and a thorough good dry rubbing afterwards. After severe walking exercise, the benefit of immersing the feet in warm water for a short time must be fully appreciated by all who have tried it; but I very much question if any man would feel himself stronger upon his legs the next morning, by having them bandaged with hot flannels during the night. Very much may be done by the judicious use of hot and cold water--in fact, more than by half the prescriptions in general use; but the proper time must be attended to as well, for its application. When a horse has had a long and severe day"s work, he should not be hara.s.sed more than is absolutely necessary, by grooming and dressing; the chief business should be to get him dry and comfortable as quickly as possible, and when that has been effected, a slight wisping over with a dry cloth will be sufficient for that night."
The expenses of horse-keep vary according to the knowledge of the master and the honesty of his groom; but what the expense ought to be may be calculated from the fact that horses in first-rate condition cannot consume more than thirteen quarters of oats and two and a half tons of hay in a year; that is, as to oats, from three to six quarterns a day, according to the work they are doing. But in some stables, horses are supposed to eat a bushel a day every day in the year: there is no doubt that the surplus is converted into beer or gin.
"Upon our return from hunting, every horse had his bucket of thick gruel directly he came into the stable, and a little hay to eat whilst he was being cleaned. We never gave any corn until just before littering down, the last thing at night. The horse"s legs were plunged into a high bucket of warm water, and if dirty, soft soap was used. The first leg being washed, was sponged as dry as possible, and then bandaged with thick woollen bandages until the others were washed; the bandages were then _removed entirely_, and the legs rubbed by hand until quite dry. We used the best old white potato oats, weighing usually 45 lbs. per bushel, but so _few beans_ that a quarter lasted us _a season_. The oats were bruised, and a little sweet hay chaff mixed with them. We also gave our horses a few carrots the day after hunting, to cool their bodies, or a bran mash or two. They were never coddled up in hoods or half a dozen rugs at night, but a single blanket sufficed, which was never so tight but that you might thrust your hand easily under it. This was a thing I always looked to myself, when paying a visit to the stable the last thing at night. A tried horse should have everything comfortable about him, but carefully avoid any tight bandage round the body. In over-reaches or wounds, warm water was our first application, and plenty of it, to clean all dirt or grit from the wound; then Fryer"s balsam and brandy with a clean linen bandage. Our usual allowance of corn to each horse per diem was four quarterns, but more if they required it, and from 14 lbs. to 16 lbs. of hay, eight of which were given at night, at racking-up time, about eight o"clock. Our hours of feeding were about five in the morning, a feed of corn, bruised, with a little hay chaff; the horse then went to exercise. At eight o"clock, 4 lbs. of hay; twelve o"clock, feed of corn; two o"clock, 2 lbs. of hay; four o"clock, corn; at six o"clock, another feed of corn, with chaff; and at eight o"clock, 8 lbs. of hay; water they could always drink when they wanted it."
I cannot conclude these hints on hunting more appropriately than by quoting another of the songs of the Squire of Arley Hall, Honorary Laureate of the Tarporley Hunt Club:--
"A WORD ERE WE START.
"The order of march and due regulation That guide us in warfare we need in the chase; Huntsman and whips, each his own proper station-- Horse, hound, and fox, each his own proper place.
"The fox takes precedence of all from the cover; The horse is the animal purposely bred, _After_ the pack to be ridden, not _over_-- Good hounds are not reared to be knocked on the head.