CHAPTER II.HARE-HUNTERS OF THE PAST

MODE OF HUNTING OF OUR ANCESTORS—THE SOUTHERN HOUND—SOME PORTRAITS OF OLD-TIME SPORTSMEN—THE HON. WILLIAM HASTINGS AND HIS ESTABLISHMENT—THE GREAT HALL—PARLOUR—CATS—THE OYSTER-TABLE—THE OLD CHAPEL AND ITS STRANGE USES—ONE OF THE LESSER GENTRY—HIS TIMBERED MANSION—CHRISTMASTIDE AND ITS PLEASURES—SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY AND HIS HOUNDS—A HARE-HUNT WITH THE WORTHY KNIGHT—HIS STOP-HOUNDS—A CURIOSITY IN HUNTING—AN ESSEX SQUIRE TEMPUS 1800—A CURIO AMONG HARE-HUNTERS—HARD DRINKERS—SOMERVILE’S MIXTURE—ANECDOTE OF A CHESHIRE SQUIRE—OLD-TIME HARRIER—OFTEN HUNTED FOX—SIR WATKIN WYNN’S PACK—TRANSITION FROM HARE-HUNTING TO FOX-HUNTING—TEMPORARY DECLINE OF HARRIERS

OUR ANCESTORS, AS I HAVE hinted, looked upon the chase of the hare as an operation to be conducted with what in these impatient days would be regarded as an unconscionable waste of time. Rising soon after the winter’s dawn, they sallied forth with their big, deep-flewed, deep-voiced, long-eared, Southern hounds—standing some twenty-four or twenty-six inches at the shoulder—and, finding, after some trouble, traces of the hare in its overnight’s wanderings, tracked it steadily to its form. They were not allowed to drive it from its seat; but the quarry, being at length discovered in its form, was pushed off and the hounds laid on, unless, as of course often happened, the hare had been already startled by the deep voices of its pursuers, drawing nearer and nearer, and had already slipped away. The Southern hound was what hunting-men of this day, and indeed of the last century, would consider far too much tied to the scent. Its sense of smell was so keen, its enjoyment of the scent so overpowering, that, instead of pushing along, as do the foxhound and modern harrier, and driving at its game, with the object of killing within some reasonable period—say an hour or two—it would actually sit down upon the line and, lifting up its deep mellow voice, pour forth its satisfaction and enjoyment upon the wintry air. It never had much pace, and with such interruptions—and they were by no means singular—it is not astounding to find that the hunt, under such conditions, especially if, as sometimes happened, fresh hares were put up, lasted hour after hour. Three hours in those days must have been reckoned a quick hare-hunt; more often than not the solemn chase went on until five, six, and occasionally even more had been consumed. After having killed their hare, if they had the luck to do so, the jolly sportsmen wended their ways homeward, and wound up the day with a portentous dinner and a carouse thereafter.

These sport-loving squires, slow though their methods and tedious their style of hunting, if compared with the chase of our own time, were, after all, lineal ancestors of the present race of fox- and hare-hunters and country gentlemen. If they had what seem to us defects from the modern point of view, they had, nevertheless, a score of excellent qualities. They were hearty, hospitable, jovial, full of the enjoyment of life; they stayed at home upon their acres and spent their money around them; they were good landlords, good farmers, great judges of stock and agriculture; and they had time and leisure to cultivate those domestic virtues which ensure pleasant homes and cheerful families. Some of them—by no means all—drank, it is true, more than was good for them. But, it is to be remembered, before the great French wars and the era of port-wine, the country gentleman, and especially those of the minor sort, drank ale for the most part, varied by claret and punch, and were not likely, therefore, to be so afflicted by gout and other ailments, as the three- or four-bottle men who came after them and drank the strong wine of Portugal. It will be, I think, not unprofitable to place before the reader one or two pictures of the hunting squires of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Here is one, taken from the life, by Lord Chancellor Shaftesbury, in his memoirs of the Honourable William Hastings.

“In the year 1638,” says Lord Shaftesbury, “lived Mr. Hastings at Woodlands, in the County of Southampton. By his quality, son, brother, and uncle to the Earls of Huntingdon. He was, peradventure, an original in our age, or rather the copy of our antient Nobility in hunting, not in warlike times. He was very low, strong, and active, with reddish flaxen hair. His clothes, which, when new, were never worth five pounds, were of Green cloth. His house was perfectly old-fashioned; in the midst of a large Park, well stocked with Deer and Rabbits, many Fish-ponds, a great store of wood and timber, a Bowling-green in it, long but narrow, full of high ridges, never having been levelled since it was ploughed; round sand Bowls were used, and it had a Banquetting house like a Stand, built in a tree.

“Mr. H. kept all manner of Hounds that run Buck, Fox, Hare, Otter and Badger; Hawks both long and short winged. He had all sorts of Nets for Fish. A walk in the New Forest, and the Manor of Christchurch; this last supplied him with Red Deer, Sea and River Fish; and, indeed, all his neighbours grounds and Royalties were free to him, who bestowed all his time on these Sports.” At his mansion were found “beef, pudding, and small beer, and a House not so neatly kept as to shame him (the neighbour) or his dirty shoes, the great Hall strewed with marrow bones, full of Hawks, Perches, Hounds, Spaniels, and Terriers; the upper side of the Hall hung with the Fox skins of this year and the last year’s killing, here and there a Martin Cat intermixed, and Game-keepers and Hunters poles in abundance.

“The Parlour was a large room as properly furnished. On a hearth, paved with brick, lay some Terriers, and the choicest Hounds and Spaniels. Seldom less than two of the great chairs had litters of Kittens on them, which were not to be disturbed, he always having three or four Cats attending him at dinner; and to defend such meat as he had no mind to part with, he kept order with a short white stick that lay by him. The windows, which were very large, served for places to lay his Arrows, Cross-bows, and other such accoutrements. The corners of the room were full of the best chose Hunting and Hawking poles. An Oyster table at the lower end, which was in constant use twice a day, all the year round, for he never failed to eat Oysters before Dinner and Supper, through all seasons. In the upper part of the room were two small tables and a desk; on the one side of the desk was a Church Bible, and on the other the Book of Martyrs. Upon the tables were Hawks-hoods, Bells, etc., two or three old green Hats, with their crowns thrust in, so as to hold ten or a dozen eggs, which were of a Pheasant-kind of poultry; these he took much care of, and fed himself. Tables, Boxes, Dice, Cards, were not wanting. In the holes of the desk was store of old used Tobacco pipes.

“On one side of this end of the room was the door of a Closet, wherein stood the strong Beer and the Wine, which never came thence but in single glasses, that being the rule of the house exactly observed; for he never exceeded in drinking, nor ever permitted it. On the other side was the door into an old Chapel, not used for devotion. The Pulpit, as the safest place, never wanted a cold Chine of Beef, Venison pasty, Gammon of bacon, or a great Apple pie, with a thick crust extremely baked. His table cost him not much, though it was always well supplied. His Sports furnished all but Beef and Mutton, except Fridays, when he had the best of salt as well as other Fish, he could get, and this was the day on which his neighbours of the first quality visited him. He never wanted a London pudding, and sung it in with ‘My pert Eyes therein a!’ He drank a glass or two at meals, very often syrup of Gilyflowers in his Sack, and always a tun glass stood by him, holding a pint of small beer, which he often stirred with Rosemary. He was affable but soon angry, calling his servants Bastards and Cuckoldy Knaves. He lived to be an Hundred, never lost his eyesight, but always wrote and read without spectacles, and got on Horseback without help. Until past Fourscore years, he rode up to the death of a Stag, as well as any man.” A portrait of this gentleman, who may be styled something of an eccentric and a character, even in his own age, was, and I believe still is, at Wimborne St. Giles, the seat of the Earl of Shaftesbury.

Here is another portrait, that of one of the lesser gentry, flourishing in the middle of the eighteenth century. It is given by Daniel, in his “Rural Sports,” published in 1801. “It may be excused,” says Mr. Daniel in his excellent book, “if the digression be continued for the purpose of sketching a Sportsman of the last age, as it may shew, that however we may have excelled in fashionable manners, it has been at the expense of abolishing a class of Men, who formed no inconsiderable link of the chain between the Peer and the Peasant in this Country. This Character, now worn out and gone, was the independent Gentleman, of three or four hundred pounds a-year, who commonly appeared in his Drab or Plush Coat, with large silver buttons, and rarely without Boots. His time was principally spent in Field amusements, and his travels never exceeded the distance of the County town, and that only at Assizes and Sessions, or to attend an Election. A Journey to London...