At least two-thirds of those who go out

At least two-thirds of those who go out

At least two-thirds of those who go out

At least two-thirds of those who go out, even in the most fashionable counties, never attempt brooks or five-barred gates, or anything difficult or dangerous; but, by help of open gates and bridle-roads, which are plentiful, parallel lanes, and gaps, which are conveniently made by the first rush of the straight riders and the dealers with horses to sell, helped by the curves that hounds generally make, and a fair knowledge of the country, manage to be as near the hounds as the most thrusting horseman. Among this crowd of skirters and road-riders are to be found some very good sportsmen, who, from some cause or other, have lost their nerve; others, who live in the county, like the excitement and society, but never took a jump in their lives; young ladies with their papas; boys on ponies; farmers educating four-year-olds; surgeons and lawyers, who are looking for professional practice as well as sport. On cold scenting days, with a ringing fox, this crowd keeps on until nearly dark, and heads many a fox. Many a beginner, in his first season, has been cheated by a succession of these easy days over an easy part of the county into the idea that there was no difficulty in riding to hounds. But a straight fox and a burning scent over a grass country has undeceived him, and left him in the third or fourth field with his horse half on a hedge and half in a ditch, or pounded before a ‘bulfinch,’ feeling very ridiculous. There are men who cut a very respectable figure in the hunting-field who never saw a pack of hounds until they were past thirty. The city of London turns out many such; so does every great town where money is made by men of pluck, bred, perhaps, as ploughboys in the country. We could name three one an M.P. under these conditions, who would pass muster in Leicestershire, if necessary. But a good seat on horseback, pluck, and a love of the sport, are essential. A few years ago a scientific manufacturer, a very moderate horseman, was ordered horse exercise as a remedy for mind and body prostrated by over-anxiety. He found that, riding along the road, his mind was as busy and wretched as ever. A friend prescribed hunting, purchased for him a couple of made hunters, and gave him the needful elementary instruction. The first result was, that he obtained such sound, refreshing sleep as he had not enjoyed since boyhood; the next, that in less than two seasons he made himself quite at home with a provincial pack, and now rides so as to enjoy himself without attracting any more notice than one who had been a fox-hunter from his youth upwards.

The popular notion of a fox-hunt is as

The popular notion of a fox-hunt is as

The popular notion of a fox-hunt is as

The popular notion of a fox-hunt is as unlike the reality as a girl’s notion of war a grand charge and a splendid victory.

Pictures always represent exciting scenes hounds flying away with a burning scent; horses taking at a bound, or tumbling neck and crop over, frightful fences. Such lucky days, such bruising horsemen, such burning scents and flying foxes are the exception.

It is safe to assert that hunting-men

It is safe to assert that hunting-men

It is safe to assert that hunting-men

It is safe to assert that hunting-men, as a class, are temperate. No man can ride well across a difficult country who is not. We must, however, admit that the birds who have most fouled their own nest have been broken-down sportsmen, chiefly racing men, who have turned writers to turn a penny. These unfortunate people, with the fatal example of ‘Noctes Ambrosianæ’ before them, fill up a page, whenever their memory or their industry fails them, in describing in detail a breakfast, a luncheon, a dinner, and a supper. And this has been repeated so often, that the uninitiated are led to believe that every fox-hunter must, as a matter of course, keep a French cook, and consume an immense cellar of port, sherry, madeira, hock, champagne, with gallons of strong ale, and all manner of liqueurs.

When indecency formed the staple of our plays

When indecency formed the staple of our plays

When indecency formed the staple of our plays

When indecency formed the staple of our plays, and a drunken debauch formed the inevitable sequence of every dinner-party, a fool and a fox-hunter were synonymous. Squire Western was the representative of a class, which, however, was not more ridiculous than the patched, perfumed Sir Plumes, whom Hogarth painted, and Pope satirised. Fox-hunters are not a class now roads, newspapers, and manufacturing emigration have equalised the condition of the whole kingdom; and fox-hunters are just like any other people, who wear clean shirts, and can afford to keep one or more horses.

Who did more to turn sand and heath into corn and wool

Who did more to turn sand and heath into corn and wool

Who did more to turn sand and heath into corn and wool

The progress of agriculture is indelibly associated with fox-hunting; for the three great landlords, who did more to turn sand and heath into corn and wool, and make popular the best breeds of stock and best course of cultivation Francis, Duke of Bedford; Coke, Earl of Leicester; and the first Lord Yarborough were all masters of hounds.

In England all conditions of men

In England all conditions of men

In England all conditions of men

In England all conditions of men, except bishops, from ratcatchers to Royalty, are to be found in the hunting-field equalised by horsemanship, and fraternising under the influence of a genial sport. Among fox-hunters we can trace a long line of statesmen, from William of Orange to Pitt and Fox. Lord Althorp was a master of hounds; and Lord Palmerston we have seen, within the last few years, going as he goes everywhere in the first flight. This was before the French fall of the late Premier. Cromwell’s Ironsides were hunting men; Pope, the poet, writes in raptures of a gallop with the Wiltshire Harriers; and Gladstone, theologian, politician, and editor of Homer, bestrides his celebrated white mare in Nottinghamshire, and scurries along by the side of the ex-War Minister, the Duke of Newcastle.

And a fox-hunter were considered synonymous terms

And a fox-hunter were considered synonymous terms

And a fox-hunter were considered synonymous terms

Hunting has suffered as much from overpraise as from the traditionary libels of the fribbles and fops of the time of the first Georges, when a fool, a sot, and a fox-hunter were considered synonymous terms. Of late years it has pleased a sportsman, with a wonderful talent for picturesquely describing the events of a fox-hunt, to write two sporting novels, in which all the leading characters are either fools or rogues.