THE HUNTING FIELD (_continued_).
Among the many advantages afforded by the "iron road" to lovers of
hunting there is none more appreciable than the facility it affords to
those who reside in a non-foxhunting country of getting to hounds with
ease and rapidity.
Without any greater inconvenience than the necessity of early rising, a
lady who lives in Tyburnia or Belgravia may easily enjoy a day's hunting
in Warwickshire or Leicestershire, and be in her own home again in
reasonable time in the evening.
During the early spring hunting of the present year, several ladies came
to Market Harborough and Melton on these sporting expeditions, and
returned the same day thoroughly satisfied.
One party, consisting of three ladies and as many gentlemen, seemed to
me to have been admirably organised, and to be quite a success
throughout.
They left Saint Pancras at eight o'clock in the morning, in a saloon
carriage, arrived at Melton at half-past ten, and were at the meet at
eleven, with military punctuality. They enjoyed a capital day with the
Quorn hounds, left Melton at half-past six, after riding a considerable
distance back, and arrived in town at nine o'clock.
A novel and agreeable feature in the arrangement was that the party
dined in their luxurious carriage while being whirled back to the
metropolis, a first-class dinner and the best of wines having been
furnished from the hotel, and served in admirable form. After the
journey and the sport one of the ladies (I was told) held a numerously
attended and fashionable reception at her own house the same evening;
and with a brougham in waiting at St. Pancras, and a pair of fast
horses, joined to the wonderful "smartness" (if I may be permitted the
expression) displayed by the fair and aristocratic votary of Diana in
the field, I should think the thing quite possible as regarded time.
The above-named party was mounted at Melton by some friends; but, by
giving fair notice, thoroughly good and well-made hunters can always be
secured by any of the Midland hunting centres by those who do not care
to rail their own horses from London. Market Harborough is still more
accessible than Melton, being but two hours from London, and situated in
the centre of a splendid grass country, hunted by Mr. Tailby; while a
smart trot of eight miles would bring the sporting _voyageur_ to
Kilworth Sticks and the Pytchley, provided the right day was selected.
Rugby, too, is equally accessible, and boasts a fair hotel, where the
charges are not more extortionate than they are at Harborough, which is
saying a good deal. The hunting in the vicinity of Rugby, however, amply
compensates for a little overdoing in the matter of charges.
It is scarcely possible to go to Rugby the wrong day to get at hounds
within a reasonable distance, and some of the meets of that admirable
pack, the North Warwickshire, are frequently at such picturesque and
convenient trysting places as Bilton Grange--now celebrated by the
Tichborne trial, and sworn to as the place where the "Claimant" was not.
However this may be, a straight-necked and wily gentleman is generally
to be found at home, either in the plantations of the grand old demesne
or close by at Bunker's Hill or Cawston Spinney, who is tolerably
certain to lead the claimants for his brush a merry dance across the
glorious grass country to Barby, Shuckborough, or Ashby St. Leger. The
fences, too, in this part of the Midlands are just the thing for a
lady's hunting, and, while quite big enough in most cases to require a
little doing, they are by no means so formidable as those in High
Leicestershire and the Quorn country. The old-fashioned bullfincher is
rare, and double ox fences equally so, while there is a pretty variety
of nice stake-and-binders, pleached hedges, and fair-water jumping,
with an occasional flight of rails, big enough to prove that the fair
equestrian's hunter can do a bit of timber clean and clever. In fact, I
know no country I would as soon select for a young lady to commence
regular hunting in as that in the vicinity of Rugby. Combe Abbey,
Misterton, and Coton House are all sweetly English, as well as
thoroughly sporting places of meeting, and the truly enjoyable trot or
canter over the springy turf, which everywhere abounds by the roadside
in these localities, and makes the way to covert so pleasant, has more
than once been pronounced by hunting critics to be more desirable than
hunting itself in parts of England where the road is all "Macadam," and
the land plough, copiously furnished with big flint stones, such as one
sees in Hampshire. _Apropos_ of which charming country there is a
sporting tale prevalent in this real home of the hunter.
A rich, middle-aged, single gentleman, a thorough enthusiast about
foxhunting, had a nephew, a very straight-going youngster, who the
"prophetic soul" of his uncle had decided should one day be _the_ man of
the country in the hunting field, and second to none over our biggest
country; and, to enable "Hopeful" to lead the van, the veteran mounted
him on horses purchased regardless of expense. Furthermore, determined
that no casualty in the way of breaking his own neck should suddenly
deprive his favourite nephew of the golden sinews of the chase, the old
Nimrod made a very proper will, leaving all his large property to his
fortunate young relative.
Things, indeed, looked rosy enough for our young sportsman. Youth,
health, wealth, a capital seat, and fine hands upon his horse, any
quantity of pluck, a thorough knowledge of hunting, and plenty of the
best horses to carry him--who could desire more? Alas that it should be
so! even the brightest sunshine may become overcast--the fairest
prospect be marred--by causes never dreamt of by the keenest and most
far seeing among us.
At the termination of a capital season in the Midland, our youngster,
not content to let well alone, and, like that greedy boy Oliver still
"asking for more," unknown to his worthy uncle, betook himself to the
New Forest in Hampshire.
"Hopeful" was a sharp fellow enough, and he did not believe that all was
gold that glittered; but he was under a very decided impression that
wherever there was a good open stretch of green level turf it was safe
to set a horse going. Alas! the luckless young sportsman was not aware
that in the New Forest this is by no means a certainty, and one day,
when riding to some staghounds, determined to "wipe the eye" of the
field, he jumped a big place which nobody else seemed to care for, and,
taking his horse by the head, set him sailing along the nearest way to
the hounds. A lovely piece of emerald-green turf was before him; he
clapped his hat firmly on, put down his hands, and, regardless of wild
cries in his rear, made the pace strong. Suddenly and awfully as the
Master of Ravenswood vanished from the sight of the distracted Caleb
Balderstone and was swallowed up in the Kelpie's Flow, so disappeared
"Hopeful" and his proud steed; both were engulfed in a treacherous bog,
and, before either horse or man could be extricated, "the pride of the
Shires" was smothered in mud beneath his horse.
Next season, at a "coffee-housing" by a spinney side, where hounds were
at work, an old friend of the bereft uncle ventured to condole with him
on his loss.
"Sad business," he said, shaking his old hunting chum warmly by the
hand; "sad business that about poor Charlie down in Hampshire!"
"Sad, indeed," replied the veteran uncle, returning the friendly
squeeze. "Who would have thought my sister's son would have ever done
such a thing? Staghunting was bad enough," he continued, as the
irrepressible tear coursed down his furrowed cheek; "staghunting was bad
enough, but to go at it in Hampshire--I shall never get over it. As to
his being smothered, of course that served him perfectly right."
Turning, however, from the above melancholy instance of degeneracy in
sport to the pleasanter theme of the right locale in which a lady should
commence foxhunting, I must not forget Leamington, the neighbourhood of
which beautiful and fashionable watering place affords some capital
sport to those who delight in "woodland hunting." The woods at
Princethorpe, Frankton, and the vicinity, hold some stout foxes that
afford many a nice gallop, while the country is rideable enough for a
lady if she keeps out of the woods.
Leamington, too, has first-rate accommodation for hunting people. There
are, indeed, no better hotels to be met with anywhere than the "Regent"
or the "Clarendon," or more moderate charges for first-class houses;
while the "Crown" and the "Bath" afford capital quarters for gentlemen,
and ample provision for doing their horses well.
The charming Spa, moreover, is at an easy distance from Rugby, and by
railing a horse to the latter place, ready access can be had to hunting
in the open country, six days in the week.
My advice, then, to young ladies, who desire to witness foxhunting in
perfection, is to select one of the above-named localities, and to put
herself at once under the guardianship in the field of a thoroughly good
pilot who knows the country.
Words of advice to the latter are superfluous. All the men who undertake
the responsible office of guiding a lady after hounds hereabouts are
quite at home at their business, and it may be satisfactory to my fair
readers to know, that, although there are a great number of ladies
riding regularly with hounds in the North Warwickshire, Pytchley, and
Atherstone country, no accident attended with injury to a lady rider has
occurred within my recollection, which extends over a long series of
years.
The initiation at cub hunting will have given our pupil confidence, and
accustomed her to the excitement shown more or less by every horse at
the sight of hounds; and careful attention to the rules of jumping
before laid down will insure safety if she adheres carefully to her
pilot's line. It is as well, however, that she should understand wherein
consists the reason for what her hunting guide does, and what should be
done and left undone, from the time of arrival at the meet until the
_retour de chasse_.
In the first place, then, while her mentor will of course see to her
girths and horse appointments before a start is made to draw a covert,
the lady should carefully look to her own dress, head gear, &c., and be
certain that everything is in its place, and shows no signs of giving
way. But if anything chances to be out of order--if she has ridden to
the meet any considerable distance--it is best to dismount and repair
damages at once. As a rule, there are always houses available for this,
and nimble-fingered dames zealous in the service of any lady who desires
their assistance.
When the fair votary of the chase travels to the meet on wheels, I
recommend her by all means the use of a warm overcoat, of which the
Ulster is very convenient, and was very much worn for the above purpose
last season. In proceeding from the meeting place to the covert a great
thing is to keep out of the crowd--no matter how well-behaved a horse
the rider may be on--because in a ruck there is always more or less
danger of her being kicked herself. The most likely position for a good
start will of course be selected by the pilot; but it should be
remembered that to be quiet while hounds are at work in covert is a
fixed law of the hunting code; to avoid heading a fox when he breaks
away, another vital point; and no exclamation of surprise or wonder
should be allowed to escape the lips, even if a fox (as I have seen
happen more than once) should run between the horses' legs. Foxes,
though it may be assumed that they all possess a large amount of craft
and cunning, differ as much in nerve and courage as other animals; and
while one will sometimes dash through a little brigade of mounted
people, the shout of a small boy on foot may turn him back; and while
Reynard, again, will frequently rush off close to a lady's horse and
take no notice of either him or his rider if both remain quiet, the
waving of a handkerchief, or even the slightest movement of the lady on
her steed, may cause Sir Pug to alter his mind, and thus a good thing
may be spoilt. For the foregoing reasons, therefore, to be perfectly
quiet and remain steady, if near a possible point at which a fox can
break away, is indispensable. When hounds are settling on his track
great care should be taken to avoid getting in their road, or in any way
interfering with them. After they have settled, the object should be to
_go well to the front and keep there_--first, because the greatest
enjoyment in hunting, viz., seeing the hounds work, is by that means
attained; and, secondly, whenever there is a check, a lady riding well
forward gets all the benefit of it for her horse, whereas those who lose
ground at the start, and have to follow on the line, keep pounding away
without giving their horses a chance of catching their wind--a very
material thing in a quick run.
A check of a few minutes, affording a good horse time, has enabled many
a one to stay to the end of the longest run, when an equally good animal
has been "pumped" in the same thing for want of such a respite from his
exertions.
Again, a great point to be observed is to maintain such a position as
will enable the rider to turn with the hounds at the right moment;
resolutely resisting any temptation in order to cut off ground, to turn
too soon, and risk spoiling sport by crossing their line.
It should be remembered that it is quite as easy to jump the fences when
one is in the front rank, as it is when sculling along with the rear
guard, and much safer, because the ground always affords better foothold
and landing, when it has not been poached up by a number of people
jumping. This is especially the case after a frost, when the going is at
all greasy.
Even in cases when hounds slip an entire field, and get the fun all to
themselves, still those who get away well at first will have all the
best of the "stern chase."
If, fortunately, our fair tyro is well up when a fox is run into and
killed, she should carefully avoid getting too close to the hounds when
they are at their broken-up prey. There are always keen eyes about that
can discern on these occasions whether a lady has been riding straight
and well, and there will not be wanting some gallant cavalier to offer
her the tribute due to her "dash" and good workmanship, in the shape of
that coveted trophy of the chase, the brush. There may, however, be more
than one lady up on these occasions (I have seen several after very good
things), and, as a rule, the brush is most likely to be offered to the
lady of the highest rank. These trophies, therefore, are scarcely to be
counted upon as a reward for even the best and straightest riding--the
less so as of late years it has been observed that in most cases a very
stout and straight-necked fox succeeds in eluding his pursuers, and
"lives to fight another day."
In beginning regular hunting, one good run in a day for a lady should
suffice for some little time. In November the days are very short, and
often enough a fox started after three o'clock will be running strong
when darkness comes on. For a lady, and a beginner especially, it is
best to leave off and trot quietly home while there is yet daylight.
As regards "get up" or equipment, I must add to my former suggestions
that a lady for the hunting field should be provided always with a
waterproof overcoat, which should be rolled up in as small a compass as
possible, and is better carried by her pilot or her second horseman (if
she has one out) than attached by straps to the off-side flap of her own
saddle; as, in addition to spoiling the symmetry of the saddle on that
side, I have seen instances of things so attached hanging up in ragged
fences, no matter how carefully they may have been put on.
A sandwich case and flask are highly necessary also. Hunting is a
wonderful promoter of appetite, and it is not beneficial to a young
lady's health to go from early breakfast to late dinner time without
refreshment; while it is quite possible--nay, very probable in a grass
country--that she may be a long way from head-quarters when she leaves
the hounds, and in a part where refreshment for a lady cannot be had for
love or money.
The Melton people have met this requirement very efficiently. Thus, into
a very flat, flexible flask, with a screw-cup top, they put a most
succulent liquid, composed of calves' foot jelly and sherry. This flask
is accompanied by a very neat little leather case, which contains half a
dozen nice biscuits, or, in some instances, a small pasty, composed of
meat. These cases, with the flask, are made to fit into the pocket of
the saddle on the off-side under the handkerchief, and the flap of the
pocket is secured by a strap and buckle.
To roll a waterproof neatly, the following plan is the best: Lay the
garment down flat, opened out, on a table, the inside upwards; turn the
collar in first, then turn the sleeves over to the inside, laying them
flat; next turn in both sides of the coat from the collar downwards,
about eight or ten inches; then turn in the bottom of the garment about
the same distance, when it will form a pocket. One person should hold
this steady while another rolls the collar end very tightly up towards
the pocket; it will then fit into it so closely as to make a very small
and compact roll of the whole coat.
I must not omit to say that, in addition to the first-rate hunting to be
had in the Midlands, there is some good sport with hounds obtainable
nearer the metropolis, namely, in the Vale of Aylesbury, with that noble
patron of sport, Baron Rothschild. But still I must award the palm to
Leicestershire, Warwickshire, and Northamptonshire as far away superior
to anything in the hunting way to be seen in any other part of England.
In whatever part, however, the fair lover of hunting seeks her sport,
she should bear in mind that when she is once away with hounds she
cannot be too particular as to riding her horse with the utmost care and
precision, and to avoid taking liberties with him by jumping big places
for the sake of display. It cannot be too strenuously impressed upon her
mentor that, as long as the true line to the hounds can be maintained,
the less jumping that is done, the longer the horse will last; that one
big jump takes as much out of him as galloping over three big fields;
and that he should be _ridden every inch of the way_, because when
hounds get off with a good scent it is impossible to say that they may
not keep on running for a couple of hours, in which case, if too much is
done with him at first, he will inevitably, to use a racing phrase,
"shut up."
The light weight of most hunting ladies is a point in favour of the
horse; but it is more than counterbalanced by the absence of support
which a man who rides well can give with the right leg. It is the
absence of this support in the case of a lady's horse, however well
ridden, that causes him to tire sooner than he would if ridden by a
gentleman; and hence the necessity in selecting a horse to carry a woman
with hounds for having not only staying power, but two or three stone in
hand. Nevertheless, although unable to give to the animal as much help
as can be afforded by a gentleman, ladies can do much by the exercise of
that tact and judgment which is their peculiar gift.
Every lady who hunts is sure to be more or less an enthusiast about
horses, and is always, according to my experience, ready to adopt any
suggestion which tends to their well doing. I therefore venture to point
one or two matters which I trust will be found useful.
In the first place, when the hounds have settled to their fox and people
have shaken themselves into their places, the fair rider in her early
essays in the field should bestow her principal attention upon the
animal, upon which depends much of her sport. With a good man by her
side, she will run no risk from thrusting neighbours, and although she
cannot too soon begin to have "one eye for the hounds and another for
the horse," it is the latter which demands all her energies. The whole
business is exciting. The genuine dash, the vigour, the reality, that is
so striking to a novice when hounds come crashing out of covert, through
an old wattle, or bounding over a strong fence; the up-ending and
plunging of impatient young horses, the brilliant throng of fashionable
equestrians, the rattle of the turf under the horses' feet as they
stride away--all these, or any of them, are quite sufficient to warm up
even old blood, and are certain to send that of the young going at such
a pace that all rule and method in riding is very apt to be forgotten,
or thrust aside in the eager desire "to be first."
It is just at this critical moment that I would advise my fair readers
to lay to heart the necessity of controlling their excitement, because
it is at such a time that a horse, especially at the beginning of the
season (if allowed), will "take out of himself" just what he will want
hereafter, assuming a stout fox that means business to be to the front.
A soothing word or two, and "making much" of the excited steed, will
generally cause him to settle in his stride and cease romping; whereas,
if the rider is excited as well as the horse, we have oil upon fire at
once. Again, it cannot be too forcibly impressed upon ladies riding with
hounds that the latter require _plenty of room to work_.
"Place aux dames" is a rule rigidly observed by gentlemen in the hunting
field. Room for the hounds should form an equally inviolable law with
ladies in the same place. And it is the more necessary to impress this
upon beginners, because many a first-rate man who pilots ladies,
although bold as a lion over a country, and cautious to a degree as to
the line he takes for his fair _compagnon de chasse_, is oftentimes far
too modest to check her exuberant riding, and the consequence is, many
an anathema--not loud, but deep--is bestowed upon both by exasperated
masters and huntsmen.
Unlike the professional riding master, a first-rate pilot--such, I mean,
as is paid for his services--though well behaved and respectful, is
likely enough to lack much education, except such as he has received in
the saddle or on practical farming matters; and his awe of a lady,
properly so called, is so considerable as to preclude his exercise of
the _fortiter in re_ altogether, no matter how much his charge is
unwittingly infringing the rules of sport.
I saw an amusing instance of this not long ago. A lady, the widow of a
wealthy civil servant in India, having returned to her native land laden
with the riches of the East, being still young and excessively fond of
riding, purchased a stud of first-class hunters, took a nice little
hunting box in Leicestershire for the season, and engaged the services
of a very good man to pilot her. As a rule every lady rides in
India--some of them ride very well; but a rattling gallop at gun fire,
in the morning, over the racecourse at Ghindee or Bangalore, is quite a
different matter to a gallop with the Pytchley hounds. The "Bebe sahib"
(great lady) had no idea, mounted as she was, of anybody or anything
(bar the fox) being in front of her. And be it known to those who have
never been in India that "great ladies" there are "bad to talk to,"
being in the habit pretty much of paying very little attention to
anything in the way of counsel coming from their subordinates. Our
Indian widow was no exception. So she did all sorts of outrageous things
in the field in riding in among the hounds--and, indeed, before them--to
the disgust of the master and everybody else, including her pilot, who
in her case was certainly no mentor--but the latter was too well paid to
risk offending the peccant lady; he ventured a gentle hint or two, and,
being snubbed, gave it up for a bad job.
He was so severely rated, however, by the masters of hounds in the
district--one of whom declared he would take them home directly he saw
the lady and her pilot with them--that the latter was fairly at his
wits' end to know how to keep the too dashing widow within bounds.
Sorely puzzled, he sat in his spacious chimney nook one night smoking
his pipe in moody silence, his wife knitting opposite him.
"What's the matter, John?" began his spouse. "Matter!" he replied; "it's
enough to drive a man mad; Mrs. Chutnee's going again to-morrow, and, as
sure as fate, she'll ride over the hounds or do something, and get one
into trouble."
"What makes her go on so, John?" again inquired the _cara sposa_.--"Go
on! it is go on: I think that the name for it. Go on over everything! no
fence is too big for her. I like her for that, but she never knows when
to stop. Last week she knocked an old gentleman over, and he lost a
spick span new set of teeth as cost, I dare say, a matter of twenty
guineas; and the day before yesterday she lamed a hound as was worth a
lot of money, to say nothing of hurting the poor brute. I don't know
what to be at with her, and that's a fact, because, barring her going so
fast, she is the best-hearted lady ever I see."
And John relapsed into silence, blowing mighty clouds of smoke, while
his wife plied her knitting-needles. But a woman's wit, in difficult
cases, is proverbial; and in the watches of the night a bright notion,
based upon knowledge of her own sex, flashed upon the anxious mind of
the snoring John's wife. The result was as follows. Next morning, true
to time, John was in attendance to accompany the fair widow to the
field. They had some distance to ride to covert, and after a smart spurt
of a mile or two on the sward, the lady pulled her horse up to walk up a
hill.
"John," said the lady (who was in high spirits), "what do people here
think of my riding?"--"Well, some thinks one thing, and some thinks
another," was the reply.
"That's no answer," observed the fair interlocutor; "what do they say?
that is the thing. I know one thing they can't say; none of them can say
they can stop me over any part of the country, no matter how big it is."
Opportunity, says some wise man, is for him who waits. Now was John's
opportunity to avail himself of his clever little wife's bright idea.
"Stop you, my lady! no, that's just what they do all say; and what's
more, they say you can't stop yourself--that you ain't got no hands, and
your horse takes you just where he pleases, if it's even right over the
hounds."
The "Bebe sahib" was bitterly chagrined, for she prided herself justly
upon her capital hands upon a horse. She was silent for a few minutes,
and then she said, "I want you to tell me what to do, just to let these
people know, as you do, that I have hands."--"Then I will tell you, my
lady," said John, brightening up. "Just you do this: when the hounds get
away, you let me go first, and keep your horse about a hundred yards
behind me. I'll pick out a line big enough, I'll warrant, and that will
show them all about your seat and your jumping. Then about the hands; if
you please, whenever I pull up, you do the same. They say as you can't
stop your horse, you know."
"Can't I?" said the little lady, "can't stop my horse when I like! I'll
let them see that. Can't stop! I should like to know what a woman can't
do if she makes up her mind to do it."
John's wife was a capital judge; there was no more riding over hounds or
disarranging of elderly gentlemen's teeth. But the "Bebe sahib" has
taken me to the extremity of my space, and I must pull up, reserving
further observations and suggestions on the hunting field for my next
chapter.