1. White poppy heads broken, two dozen.
Hemlock, two handfuls.
Boil for two hours gently in six quarts of water.
2. Wormwood dried, and camomile
flowers of each 4 oz.
Rue 3 oz.
Bay leaves 2 oz.
Boil them for one hour in a gallon of water.
The efficacy of a fomentation depends on its being properly applied:
therefore, the liquid should be only _as hot as the part can bear
without pain_. Large flannel cloths should be dipped into the
fomentation, lightly wrung out, and spread over the affected part, and
be renewed before they become cold; this ought to be continued for half
an hour at least, and repeated three or four times a day.
_Emollient fomentation_ is adapted to inflamed swellings, from whatever
cause they may arise; and, in the absence of others, warm water alone
will be found an useful substitute.
Warm water, if used assiduously, and at a proper temperature, is an
excellent fomentation. In inflammation of the eye, it should not be
above 98°; in inflamed and painful swellings it should seldom exceed
100°. In strains of the back sinews, vinegar is preferable; and as the
injury is deeply seated, the fomentation may be applied hotter.
When employed for inflammation of the bowels, it should be still hotter,
so hot, indeed, that the hand cannot feel it without pain. The best mode
of application is by a long piece of woollen cloth, with the ends
joined, that it may be wrung out of the boiling liquor by placing a
stick through each end. When thus applied, it may be called a _steam
fomentation_. A man on either side the horse is required to apply this
fomentation effectually. Where the injury is not extensive, the
fomentation may be applied with a large sponge, or a thick woollen
cloth, or old rug or blanket.—_White._
FOOT, _s._ The part upon which we stand; that by which any thing is
supported; the base; a measure containing twelve inches.
FORAGE, _s._ Search of provisions; provisions sought abroad;
provisions in general; food for horses.
FORCEPS, _s._ Properly signifies a pair of tongs, but is used for an
instrument in chirurgery to extract any thing out of wounds.
FORD, _s._ A shallow part of a river.
FORD, _v._ To pass without swimming.
FOREHAND, _s._ That part of a horse which is before the rider.
Forehand implies that part of a horse extending from the ears to the
withers; which to be handsome should be long, and rise gradually from
the upper point of the shoulder blade to the very extremity of the ear.
A forehand of this description adds greatly to the majestic appearance
and value of a horse. But a horse low before, with a short forehand, and
indented crest, can never become an object of attraction.—_Taplin._
FOREHEAD, _s._ That part of the face which reaches from the eyes
upwards to the hair: impudence, confidence, assurance.
To observe the form and effect of the forehead, it will be necessary to
get before the horse. It is the space extending from the roots of the
ears, and between the eyes, which being broad and flat, having a feather
or star in the centre, constitutes a degree of beauty, and may be
supposed to have a cross of the Arabian in the blood. If a horse having
a wide flat forehead, has the advantage of a full prominent spirited
eye, they at the first approach afford no small indication of
excellence; and, upon nearer inspection, a corresponding symmetry is
expected to follow.—_Taplin._
FORELEGS, _s._ That part of a horse beginning at the lower extremity
of the shoulder blade before, and the elbow behind.
The forelegs consist of what are termed the arms (or thighs), which
extend to each knee; the shank-bone from the knee to the fetlock joint;
the fetlock bone is continued from thence to the coronary bone, in part
fills the cavity, or box of the hoof, being lodged in the coffin-bone,
supported by the nut-bone behind; these last are deposited in the
membraneous mass denominated the inner sole, the whole being terminated
by the bottom of the hoof, the frog, and the outer sole. The forelegs,
to be uniform (in a front view), should be wide at the upper part next
the breast, strong and broad in the arm, bony below the knee, free from
splents, a broad sound hoof, firm sole, and a frog without
thrushes.—_Taplin._
FORELOCK, _s._ The hair that grows from the forepart of the head.
FOREST, _s._ A wild uncultivated tract of ground, with wood.
FORESTER, _s._ An officer of the forest; an inhabitant of the wild
or woody country.
The forester is an officer sworn to preserve the vert and venison within
his walk, and not to conceal but to attach all offenders, to present the
offences and attachments in the next court of attachments, or swainmote,
and to take care of the lawing of dogs.
FORGE, _s._ The place where iron is beaten into form; a place where
horses are shod.
FORGE, _v._ To form by the hammer.
FOWL, _s._ A winged animal, a bird.
FOWL, _v._ To kill birds for food or game.
FOWLER, _s._ A sportsman who pursues birds.
FOWLING-PIECE, _s._ A gun for birds.
FOX, _s._ A wild animal of the dog kind, remarkable for his cunning.
[Illustration]
The fox is a native of almost every quarter of the globe, and is of such
a wild nature, that it is impossible fully to tame him. He is esteemed
the most sagacious and most crafty of all beasts of prey. The former
quality he shows in his mode of providing himself an asylum, where he
retires from pressing dangers, where he dwells, and where he brings up
his young: and his craftiness is discovered by his schemes to catch
lambs, geese, hens, and all kinds of small birds. The fox, if possible,
fixes his abode on the border of a wood, in the neighbourhood of some
farm or village: he listens to the crowing of the cocks, and the cries
of the poultry; he scents them at a distance; he chooses his time with
judgment; he conceals his road as well as his design; he slips forward
with caution, sometimes even trailing his body, and seldom makes a
fruitless expedition. If he can leap the wall, or get in underneath, he
ravages the court-yard, puts all to death, and retires softly with his
prey, which he either hides under the herbage, or carries off to his
kennel. He returns in a few minutes for another, which he carries off
and conceals in the same manner, but in a different place. In this way
he proceeds till the progress of the sun, or some movements perceived in
the house, advertise him that it is time to suspend his operations, and
to retire to his den. He plays the same game with the catchers of
thrushes, woodcocks, &c. He visits the nets and bird-lime very early in
the morning, carries off successively the birds which are entangled, and
lays them in different places, especially by the sides of highways, in
the furrows, under the herbage or brushwood, where they sometimes lie
two or three days; but he knows perfectly where to find them when he is
in need. He hunts the young hares in the plains, seizes old ones in
their seats, digs out the rabbits in the warrens, discovers the nests of
partridges and quails, seizes the mother on the eggs, and destroys a
vast quantity of game. He is exceedingly voracious, and, when other food
fails him, makes war against rats, field-mice, serpents, lizards, and
toads. Of these he destroys vast numbers, and this is the only service
that he appears to do to mankind.
When urged by hunger, he will also eat roots or insects; and the foxes
near the coasts will devour crabs, shrimps, or shell-fish. In France and
Italy they do incredible mischief, by feeding on grapes, of which they
are excessively fond.
We are told by Buffon, that he sometimes attacks bee-hives, and the
nests of wasps, for the sake of what he can find to eat: and that he
frequently meets with so rough a reception, as to force him to retire,
that he may roll on the ground and crush those that are stinging him;
but having thus rid himself of his troublesome companions, he instantly
returns to the charge, and obliges them at length to forsake their
combs, and leave them as a reward of his victory. When pressed by
necessity he will devour carrion. “I once,” says M. Buffon, “suspended
on a tree, at the height of nine feet, some meat, bread, and bones. The
foxes had been at severe exercise during the night; for next morning the
earth all round was beaten, by their jumping, as smooth as a
barn-floor.”
The fox exhibits a great degree of cunning in digging young rabbits out
of their burrows. He does not enter the hole, for in that case he would
have to dig several feet along the ground, under the surface of the
earth; but he follows their scent above, till he comes to the end, where
they lay, and then scratching up the earth, descends immediately upon,
and devours them.
Pontoppidan informs us, that when the fox observes an otter go into the
water to fish, he will frequently hide himself behind a stone, and when
the otter comes to shore with his prey, he will make such a spring upon
him, that the affrighted animal runs off, and leaves his booty behind. A
certain person, continues this writer, was surprised on seeing a fox
near a fisherman’s house, laying a parcel of storks’ heads in a row: he
waited the event; the fox hid himself behind them, and made a booty of
the first crow that came for a bit of them.
The fox prepares for himself a convenient den, in which he lies
concealed during the greater part of the day.
This is so contrived, as to afford the best possible security to the
inhabitant, being situated under hard ground, the roots of trees, &c.
and is besides furnished with proper outlets, through which he may
escape in case of necessity. This care and dexterity in constructing for
himself a habitation, is, by M. Buffon, considered as alone sufficient
to rank the fox among the higher order of quadrupeds, since it implies
no small degree of intelligence.
The fox, (says he,) knows how to ensure his safety, by providing himself
with an asylum to which he retires from pressing dangers, where he
dwells, and where he brings up his young. He is not a vagabond, but
lives settled in a domestic state. This difference, though it appears
even among men, has greater effects, and supposes more powerful causes,
among the inferior animals. The single idea of a habitation, or settled
place of abode, the art of making it commodious, and concealing the
avenues to it, imply a superior degree of sentiment.
He is one of those animals that, in this country, are made objects of
diversion in the chase. When he finds himself pursued, he generally
makes towards his hole, and penetrating to the bottom, lies till a
terrier is sent in to him. If his den is under a rock, or the roots of
trees, which is often the case, he is safe, for the terrier is no match
for him there; and he cannot be dug out by his enemies. When the retreat
to his kennel is cut off, his stratagems and shifts to escape are as
surprising as they are various. He always takes to the most woody parts
of the country, and prefers the paths that are most embarrassed with
thorns and briers. He runs in a direct line before the hounds, and at no
great distance from them; and, if hard pushed, seeks the low wet
grounds, as if conscious that the scent does not lie so well there. When
overtaken, he becomes obstinately desperate, and bravely defends himself
against the teeth of his adversaries, even to the last gasp.
Dr. Goldsmith relates a remarkable instance of the parental affection of
this animal, which, he says, occurred near Chelmsford:—“A she fox that
had, as it should seem, but one cub, was unkennelled by a gentleman’s
hounds, and hotly pursued. The poor animal, braving every danger rather
than leave her cub behind to be worried by the dogs, took it up in her
mouth, and ran with it in this manner for several miles. At last, taking
her way through a farmer’s yard, she was assaulted by a mastiff, and at
length obliged to drop her cub; this was taken up by the farmer.” And we
are happy to add that the affectionate creature escaped the pursuit, and
got off in safety.
Of all animals the fox has the most significant eye, by which is
expressed every passion of love, fear, hatred, &c. He is remarkably
playful, but, like all savage creatures half reclaimed, will on the
least offence bite even those with whom he is most familiar.
He is never to be fully tamed; he languishes when deprived of liberty,
and if kept too long in a domestic state he dies of chagrin. When
abroad, he is often seen to amuse himself with his fine bushy tail,
running sometimes for a considerable while in circles to catch it. In
cold weather he wraps it about his nose.
In the northern countries there is a black fox, a variety of the common
fox. The Kamschatdales informed Dr. Grieve that these were once so
numerous with them that whenever they fed their dogs, it was a difficult
piece of labour to prevent them from partaking. The doctor says, that
when he was in Kamschatka, they were in such plenty near the forts, that
in the night they entered them without any apparent apprehension of
danger from the dogs of the country.
One of the inhabitants, he informs us, caught several of them in the pit
where he kept his fish.
The mode usually adopted by the inhabitants for taking them is by traps
baited with live animals; and, for the greater security, two or three of
these traps are placed upon one hillock, that, whatever way the foxes
approach, they may fall into one of them. This is found necessary, since
those which have been once in danger, ever afterwards go so cautiously
to work, as frequently to eat the bait without being seized. But, with
all their cunning, when several traps are employed, it is difficult for
them to escape. Their skins are very valuable.
* * * * *
_Foxes, Anecdotes of._—Near the Falls of Clyde, on the summit of an
awful precipice, a spot is shown where a fox once exhibited
extraordinary cunning. Being hard pressed by the dogs, he seized in his
teeth a fast hold of some pendulous shrub growing on the verge, threw
himself across the brow of the precipice, and after remaining there
until the scent was strong, he recovered the ground, and jumped into an
adjoining thicket. Three couple of the leading hounds, in the eagerness
of pursuit, actually rushed over the bank, and were dashed to atoms. It
is said that the fox escaped. The anecdote is told and credited in the
neighbourhood.
* * * * *
The old Duke of Grafton had his hounds at Croydon, and occasionally had
foxes taken in Whittlebury forest, and sent up in the venison-cart to
London; the foxes thus brought, were carried the next hunting morning in
a hamper behind the duke’s carriage, and turned down before the hounds.
In the course of this plan, a fox was taken from a coppice in the
forest, and forwarded as usual. Some time after a fox was caught in the
same coppice, whose size and appearance was so strikingly like that got
at the same spot, that the keepers suspected it was the fox they had
been in possession of before, and directed the man who took him to
London, to inquire whether the fox hunted on such a day was killed, or
escaped; the latter having been the case, the suspicion of the keepers
was strengthened. Some short time after, a fox was again caught in the
same coppice, which those concerned in the taking were assured was the
fox they had bagged twice before; to be, however, perfectly able to
identify their old acquaintance, should another opportunity offer,
previous to his third journey to town, he had one ear slit, and some
holes punched through the other. With these marks he was despatched to
London, was again hunted, and escaped, and within a very few weeks was
retaken in the same coppice; when his marks justified the keeper’s
conjectures, in spite of the seeming improbability of the fact. It is
with some concern, that the conclusion of this singular account is
added, which terminates in the death of poor reynard, who was killed
after a very severe chase, bearing upon him the signals of his former
escapes, and which ought to have entitled him to that lenity and
privilege which was formerly granted to a stag who had beat his royal
pursuers.
* * * * *
Some curious instances have been related to me of the cunning evinced by
foxes, not only in the preservation of their lives, but in procuring
themselves food. A fox, which had been frequently hunted in
Leicestershire, was always lost at a particular place, where the hounds
could never recover the scent. This circumstance having excited some
curiosity, it was discovered that he jumped upon, and ran along a
clipped hedge, at the end of which was an old pollard oak tree, hollow
in the middle. He crept into this hollow, and lay concealed till the
alarm was over. His retreat, however, being discovered, he was driven
from it and killed. Another fox selected a magpie’s nest as a place of
retreat, and was discovered in consequence of a labouring man having
observed a quantity of bones, feathers of birds, &c., on the ground
under the nest. The following fact may be relied upon, extraordinary as
it may appear. I received it from a gentleman of the strictest veracity,
who communicated it to me very recently, on his return from the south of
France, where he had been residing for some months. A friend of his,
with whom he passed much of his time there, was in the habit of shooting
in a part of the country where there was much wild and rocky ground.
Part of this rocky ground was on the side of a very high hill, which was
not accessible for a sportsman, and from which both hares and foxes took
their way in the evening to the plain below. There were two channels or
gullies made by the rains, leading from these rocks to the lower ground.
Near one of these channels, the sportsman in question, and his
attendant, stationed themselves one evening, in hopes of being able to
shoot some hares. They had not been there long, when they observed a fox
coming down the gully, and followed by another. After playing together
for a little time, one of the foxes concealed himself under a large
stone or rock, which was at the bottom of the channel, and the other
returned to the rocks. He soon, however, came back, chasing a hare
before him. As the hare was passing the stone where the first fox had
concealed himself, he tried to seize her by a sudden spring, but missed
his aim. The chasing fox then came up, and finding that his expected
prey had escaped, through the want of skill in his associate, he fell
upon him, and they both fought with so much animosity, that the parties
who had been watching their proceedings came up and destroyed them both.
* * * * *
_Stratagems of foxes to take water-fowl._—Amongst the devices of the fox
to catch his prey, is that of sliding under water like a frog, only
leaving his nostrils above the surface to take breath, in such places as
that described by White, where he has observed water-fowl resort. This
appears to me to have given origin to a curious legend which I have
traced to Albertus Magnus, the celebrated naturalist of the middle ages.
“When the fox,” says he, “is troubled with gnats or fleas, he taketh a
mouthful of straw or soft hay, or hair, and so goeth into the water,
dipping his hinder parts by little and little, then the insects betake
themselves to his head, which he keepeth out of the water, which the fox
feeling, dippeth or diveth also the same under water to his mouth,
wherein he holdeth the hay as aforesaid, whereunto the flies run for
sanctuary or dry refuge, which the fox perceiving, suddenly casteth it
out of his mouth, and runneth out of the water, by this means easing
himself of all those enemies.”—_Jesse_—_Buffon_—_White of
Selborne_—_Sporting Anecdotes._
FOXCASE, _s._ A fox’s skin.
FOXCHASE, _s._ The pursuit of the fox with hounds.
FOXHOUND (_Canis celer_), _s._ A hound famous for the pursuit of
foxes.
[Illustration]
The muzzle of the fox-hound is rather long, and his head small in
proportion to his body; his ears long and pendulous, though not so much
as those of the blood-hound or stag-hound. His legs are very straight,
his feet round and not too large, his chest deep, and breast wide, his
back broad, his neck thin, his shoulders lie well back, his tail thick
and bushy, and carried high when in the chase. His colour is generally
white, variously patched with black in different parts of the body.
Mr. Daniel makes the following remarks on the choice of hounds. Most
sportsmen have their prejudices as to the colour of their dogs. In an
old distich it is said,
“So many men, so many minds,
So many hounds, so many kinds;”
and the choice of hounds in former times, as to colour and other points,
is no bad commentary upon it; for we are gravely told, that white
coloured dogs, especially those that were pupped without any spot upon
them, although not generally good for all sorts of game, were excellent
for the stag; that people from experience valued them, because of their
natural instinct, being curious hunters, with admirable noses, and very
good at stratagems; and, moreover, that they were less subject to
diseases, by reason of a predominancy of phlegm which gave them a good
temperament of body.
Black hounds were not to be rejected, especially when marked with white
and not red spots, the whiteness proceeding from the phlegmatic
constitution, which was supposed to ensure memory. They were at the same
time more obedient, and were said to be good hunters, not frightened at
water and so hardy as seldom to require the doctor.
Grey coloured hounds (supposing all suspicion of mongrelism to be
removed) were to be coveted, on account of their cunning, never
faltering, nor being discouraged in their quest. It is allowed that
their noses were not the best, but being indefatigable, they pushed
themselves forward; and it is presumed, from the above failing, that
nine times out of ten they did more harm than good.
Yellow hounds, which are defined to be those having red hair, inclining
to brown, possess too much choler to be much prized; were too giddy and
resolute to hunt any animals that turned too much in their chase; were
with difficulty taught, and not easily corrected; and, from their
impatient temper, which hurried them beyond their strength, were very
liable to diseases.
No country in Europe can boast of fox-hounds equal in swiftness,
strength and agility, to those of Britain, where the utmost attention is
paid to their breeding, education, and food. The climate also seems
congenial to their nature; for, when taken to France or Spain, and other
southern countries of Europe, they quickly degenerate, and lose all the
admirable qualities they possess in this country:
In thee alone, fair land of liberty,
Is bred the perfect hound in scent and speed
As yet unrivall’d, while in other climes
Their virtue fails,—a weak degenerate race.