HUNTING-GEAR.--NECESSARY REGARD FOR SAFE SHOEING.--DRIVE TO THE
MEET.--SCENE ON ARRIVING.--A WORD WITH THE HUNTSMAN.--A GOOD
PILOT.--THE COVERT SIDE.--DISAPPOINTMENT.--A LONG TROT.
Now that you are thoroughly at home on your saddle--in the park, on the
road, and over the country--you are doubtless longing to display your
prowess in the hunting-field, and thither we shall have much pleasure
in accompanying you.
Your outfit will be the first thing to consider; and do not be alarmed
when I tell you that it will require a little more generosity on the
part of papa than you have hitherto called upon him to exercise.
To commence with your feet--which I know is contrary to custom--you
will need two pairs of patent Wellington boots. These are three guineas
per pair, but are a beautiful article, and will last a long time with
care. Woollen stockings of light texture, with a pair of silk ones
drawn over, are the most comfortable for winter wear. A small steel
spur to affix to your left heel will be the next item required. The
nicest kind are those with a strap attached, which crosses the instep,
and buckles securely at the side. Of course, all ladies' spurs are
spring ones, displaying no rowels which could tear the habit, but
simply one steel projection with spring probe within, which, when
pressed to the horse's side, acts most efficiently as an instigator.
Latchford's patent is the best.
Two pairs of chamois riding-trousers, cloth from the hip down, and
buttoning quite close at the ankle to allow of the boot going over,
will be the next necessary; and you must also provide yourself with two
riding corsets of superior shape and make.
Three habits of strong dark cloth, one of them thoroughly waterproof,
will be required--the skirts to be made so short as barely to cover the
foot, and so spare as to fit like glove, without fold or wrinkle. If a
hunting-habit be properly cut it will require no shotting, which will
be an advantage to your horse in diminishing the weight which he would
otherwise have to carry. An elastic band nicely placed upon the inside
in position to catch around the toe of the right foot will be
sufficient to answer all purposes. You cannot do better, to procure an
article such as I describe, than entrust your order to Wolmershausen
(whom I believe I have already named in a former chapter), corner of
Curzon Street, Mayfair, where you will not fail to find your
instructions intelligently carried out. This firm has a speciality for
skirt-cutting,--is, indeed, unapproachable in this particular branch,
of what is in reality an ART; and even in these days of eager
competition the old-established house suffers from no rivalry, and
holds its own in the widely-contested field.
A very neatly-made waterproof jacket will be an addition to your
wardrobe, as also a cape with an elastic band from the back to fasten
around the waist, and hold the front ends securely down. This latter is
an almost indispensable article. It is so light that it can be carried
with ease in your saddle-strap, and in case of an unexpected shower can
be adjusted in a single instant and without assistance, which is not
the case with a jacket. It should be made with a collar, which can be
arranged to stand up close around the neck, and thus prevent the
possibility of damp or wet causing you cold or inconvenience. I approve
of the jacket for decidedly wet days, when it should be donned on going
out, but for a showery day the cape is preferable, as it can be much
more easily taken off and again put on.
Two silk hats, with the addition of a melon-shape if you desire it--a
long-lashed hunting-whip, and a plentiful supply of collars, cuffs,
gloves, veils, and handkerchiefs, will complete your outfit. I, hunting
four days a week, find the above quite sufficient, and if you care your
things (having got them in the first instance of the best quality) it
is surprising how long they may be made to serve. I have told you
_how_ to take care of them, but believe me, if you leave the task
to servants the end will prove disappointing. You will never be
one-half so well turned out, and your outlay will be continual.
It is an excellent precaution for a hunting-day, to look the previous
morning at your horse's shoes; and do this yourself, for it not
unfrequently happens that a careless groom will suffer him to go out
with a loose shoe which gradually becomes looser, and finally drops
off, perhaps in the middle of an exciting run, and obliges you to leave
your place with the hounds and seek the nearest forge. All this sort of
thing could, in nine cases out of ten, be obviated by a little care and
forethought, but the majority of riders are too grand, or too careless,
or too absurdly squeamish about the "propriety" of entering a stable,
and not unfrequently too ignorant of things they ought to know, to see
to such matters themselves, and so they are passed over and neglected.
A groom is too often utterly careless. He is bound to send your horse
from the yard looking shiny, and sleek, and clean. Any deviation from
this would at once attract your attention, and arouse your displeasure.
The groom knows this, and acts accordingly; but he also knows what you
do not--that one of the shoes is three-parts loose; it will probably
hold very well until you begin to go, and then it will drop off and
leave you in a fix, perhaps miles away from a village where the damage
could be repaired. The groom knew all about it, very likely, the day
before, but he saw that you were not troubling yourself, and why should
he? You never made any inquiry about such matters, nor seemed to
interest yourself in them, and why should he be troubled concerning
them? A loose shoe is nothing to him: it does not cause _him_ any
inconvenience, not it; then why worry himself? He does not want to
bring the horse down to the forge through mud and rain, and stand there
awaiting the smith's convenience; not a bit of it. He is much more
comfortable lolling against the stable-door and smoking a pipe with
Tom, Dick, or Harry.
It frequently occurs in the hunting-field that a horse loses a shoe in
going through heavy ground, or in jumping a fence where he brings his
hind feet too close upon the front ones, and, catching the toe of the
hind shoe in the heel of the front, drags the latter forcibly off, and
leaves it either on the ground behind him or carries it for a field or
two hanging by one or two nails to his hoof, before it finally drops
off.
The moment you are made aware that your horse has cast a shoe, which
will generally be by somebody informing you of the fact, ascertain at
once which of the animal's feet has been left unprotected. If the lost
shoe happens to be a hinder one, the matter is less serious, but if a
front one should be cast, do not lose any time in inquiring your road
to the nearest smithy, and, whilst wending your way thither, be careful
to keep as much as possible upon the grass by the roadside, that the
shoeless foot may not become worn, nor suffer from concussion by coming
in contact with the hard road.
It is a good plan to send your horse early to the meet: quite in the
morning; or, should the distance be a long one, despatch him the
previous evening in charge of a careful servant, and stable him for the
night as near as possible to the point at which you may require him
upon the following day. If you are fortunate enough to have a friend's
house to send him to, so much the better a great deal; but under any
circumstances it is pleasanter both for you and your animal that he
should be fresh and lively from his stable, and not that you should get
upon him when he is half-jaded and covered with mud, after a long and
tiresome road journey.
To drive to the meet or go by train yourself is the most agreeable way.
Some ladies ride hacks to covert, and then have their hunters to
replace them, but this is tiresome, and not to be advocated for various
reasons. If the morning is fine the drive will be pleasant, and you can
then send your conveyance to whatever point you deem it most likely the
hunt will leave off. You must, of course, exercise your judgment in the
endeavour to decide this, but you may assist it considerably by asking
the Master or the huntsman to be kind enough to give you a hint as to
the direction in which they will most probably draw.
We will, then, surmise that you drive to the meet. It is an excellent
plan, whether you drive or go by train, to take with you a small bag
containing a change of clothing; leave this in charge of your servant,
with directions where he is to meet you in the evening, and then,
should you come to grief in a dyke or river you can console yourself
with the knowledge that dry garments are awaiting you, and that you
will not have to encounter the risk of cold and rheumatism by sitting
in drenched habiliments in a train or vehicle. You will also, if wise,
take with you a foot-pick and a few yards of strong twine. Even if you
should not require them yourself you may be able to oblige others,
which is always a pleasure to a right-minded and unselfish huntress.
Take, likewise, a few shillings in your pocket to reward, if necessary,
the wreckers, whose tasks are at all times difficult and laborious, and
too often thankless.
Arrived at the meet, your horse and servant are waiting for you in good
time and order; but it is a little early yet, and so you look about
you.
What a pretty sight it is! How full of healthful interest and charming
variety! The day is bright and breezy--a little bit cloudy, perhaps,
but no sign of rain. A glorious hunting morning altogether. Numbers of
vehicles are drawn up, filled with happy-looking occupants, mostly
ladies and children. There are a good many dog-carts, polo-carts, and a
few tandems, from which gentlemen in ulsters and long white
saving-aprons are preparing to alight. It is nice to see their steeds,
so beautifully groomed and turned out, led up to the trap-wheels for
them to mount, without the risk of soiling their boots. Very particular
are these gentlemen. The day is muddy, and they know they must be
splashed and spattered as they ride to the covert-side, but they will
not leave the meet with a speck upon horse or rider. There is a
military-looking man--long, tawny moustache, and most perfect
get-up--divesting himself of his apron, and frowning because his
snow-white breeches are disfigured by just one speck of dirt; probably
it would be unobservable to anybody but himself, yet he is not the less
annoyed. A dapper little gentleman, in drab shorts and gaiters, is
covertly combing his horse's mane; and a hoary old fox-hunter, who has
just mounted, has drawn over close to the hedge, and extends first one
foot and then the other for his servant to remove the blemishes which
mounting has put upon his boots. This extreme fastidiousness is carried
by some to an absurd excess. I remember upon one occasion seeing a
gentleman actually re-enter his dog-cart and drive sulkily away from
the meet because he considered himself too much splashed to join the
cavalcade which was moving away to the covert, although he was fully
aware that a trot of a few hundred yards upon the muddy road in company
with numerous other horses would, under any circumstances, have
speedily reduced him to the condition which he was then lamenting.
A few ladies come upon the scene, and many more gentlemen; and then
comes the huntsman in proud charge of the beauties. The whips and
second horsemen come also, and the Master drives up about the same
time, and loses not a moment in mounting his hunter. The pack looks
superb, and many are the glances and words of commendation which it
receives.
Always have a smile and pleasant word for the huntsman and whips. They
deserve it, and they value it. I always make it a point to have a
little conversation with them before we leave the meet--in fact, I know
many of the hounds in the various packs by name, and I love to notice
them. Nothing pleases the huntsman more than to commend his charge: it
makes him your friend at once. Many a time when I have been holding
good place in a run, we have come across some dangerous fence which it
would be death to ride in a crowd, and the huntsman's shout of "Let the
lady first!" has secured me a safe jump, and a maintenance of my
foremost position.
All being now ready, you mount your horse. It would be well if some
gentleman friend or relative would look first to his girths, &c.; but,
should such not be available, do not be above doing it yourself.
Servants, even the best, are, as aforesaid, often careless, and a horse
may be sent out with girths too loose, throat-lash too tight, runners
out, or any of the thousand and one little deficiencies which an
interested and careful eye will at once detect.
Of course you have not come to hunt without having secured a good
pilot. You have, I hope, selected somebody who rides well and
straight--boldly, and yet with judgment--for, believe me, a display of
silly recklessness does not constitute good riding, however it may be
thought to do so by ignorant or silly persons. Your pilot will ride a
few yards in advance of you, and it will be your duty to keep him well
in view, and not to get separated from him. This latter you may at
times find difficult, as others may ride in between, but you must learn
smartness, and be prepared for all emergencies. Moreover, if your pilot
be a good one, he will see that you keep close to him, and, by glancing
over his shoulder after clearing each obstacle, will satisfy himself
that you also are safely over, and that no mischance has befallen you.
Any man who will not take this trouble is unfit to pilot a lady, for
whilst he is careering onward in all the glories of perfect safety, she
may be down in some ugly dyke, perhaps ridden on, or otherwise hurt;
and, therefore, it is his bounden duty to see that no evil befals her.
I cannot say that I consider the position of a trusty pilot at all an
enviable one, and few men care to occupy it in relation to a beginner
or timorous rider, although they are ever anxious to place their
services at the disposal of a lady who is known to "go straight."
In selecting a pilot, do so with judgment. Choose one who knows the
country, and who will not be too selfish nor too grand to take care of
you; for, remember, you are only a beginner, and will need to be taken
care of. If, then, you have secured the right sort of man, and your own
heart is in the right place, you may prepare to enjoy yourself, for a
real good day's hunting is the keenest enjoyment in which man or woman
can hope to participate in this life.
The trot to the covert-side is usually very pleasant. You and your
horse are quite fresh. You meet and chat with your friends. The two,
three, or four miles, as the case may be, seem to glide away very fast.
Then comes the anxious moment when the beauties are thrown in, and
all wait in eager suspense for the whimper which shall proclaim Reynard
at home. But not a hound gives tongue this morning. You can see
them--heads down, sterns up, beating here and there through the
gorse--but, alas! in silence; and, after a while, someone says, "No fox
here!" and presently your ear catches the sound of the huntsman's horn,
and the hounds come trooping out, almost as disappointed as the field.
Then the master gives the order for the next or nearest covert, and
there is a rush, and a move, and a long cavalcade forms upon the road,
headed, of course, by the hounds. Get well in front, if you can, so as
to be quite up when they reach their next try, for sometimes they find
as soon as ever they are thrown in, and are far away over the country
before the stragglers come up, and great, then, are the lamentations,
for hunting a stern-chase is, to say the least of it, not cheerful. You
will have another advantage, also, in being well forward, for your
horse will get the benefit of a temporary rest, whilst those who, by
lagging, have lost time at the start, are obliged to follow as best
they can upon the track, bucketing their horses, and thus depriving
them of the chance of catching their wind--which is, in a lengthened
run, of very material consequence.
One especial difference you observe between road-riding and hunting:
you are obliged to trot at a fast swinging pace such long tiresome
distances from covert to covert, without pause or rest, and you feel
already half tired out. Hitherto, when riding on the road, or in the
park, if you felt fatigued you have only had to pull up and walk; but
on hunting days there is no walking. The time is too precious, these
short, dark, wintry days, to allow of such "sweet restings." The
evening closes in so rapidly that we cannot afford to lose a moment of
our time, and so we go along at a sweeping pace. Nobody who is unable
to trot long distances without rest has any business hunting.