AND AMERICAN RURAL SPORTS. 



75 



correspond with those of the horse, and by keeping this 

 maxim steadily in view, he will seldom be at a loss. It 

 sometimes happens that a steep bank opposes the sports- 

 man's progress, which it is not possible to jump, (and 

 banks indeed present very frequently, awkward jumps, 

 even when jumping is practicable,) but every perfect 

 hunter will make his way over such places, and the rider 

 must suit himself to the motion accordingly. 



Riding to Hounds is a business where courage is regard- 

 ed as an indispensable qualification ; but, although I am 

 quite willing to allow to courage whatever may justly be 

 its due ; yet it cannot be denied that getting well over a 

 country depends much more upon the judgment ; and he 

 that would be a good workman, must unite the two as 

 much as possible, never forgetting that the former ought 

 to depend on the latter : — " The better part of valour is 

 discretion." 



The pursuit of the fox was formerly a work of three 

 or four hours ; and frequently extended to a much greater 

 length of time. According to the modern system, the bu- 

 siness is generally completed in about an hour ; and the fox 

 is often killed, but more frequently lost, in half that time. 

 The old English hunter was a large, heavy, powerful horse, 

 whose excellence consisted principally in his leaping or 

 jumping; and, in fact, it may be justly observed, that he was 

 very well calculated for the hounds which he had to follow; 

 but, with modern hounds, he would have been run out of 

 sight in a very few minutes. " It is the pace which kills, ,> 

 an observation common enough in the mouth of a sports- 

 man ; one that merits the deepest consideration, and which 

 cannot do otherwise than carry conviction to every re- 

 flecting mind. If a horse be pressed, and continued but 

 only for a short time at the top of his rate, he becomes so 

 exhausted that he cannot clear his jumps ; and he thus en- 

 dangers his rider's neck, to say nothing of losing the 

 sport ; but, as far as relates to the old English hunter, as 

 the slowness of the pursuit allowed him to go within him- 

 self, or at his ease, so he was generally able to clear his 

 leaps ; and although he might not be able to gallop half as 

 fast as the modern hunter, he might perhaps be as good a 

 fencer, if not better, since even cart horses have been 

 known to clear enormous jumps. 



In modern hunting, however, it is indispensable that 

 the horse should possess great speed, if his rider is to en- 

 joy the diversion ; and as the business of the chase is so 

 much more rapid than formerly, it requires more judg- 

 ment in the sportsman in riding to hounds ; yet, since no 

 blown horse can be trusted even at a moderate jump, the 

 necessity of keeping the horse's wind in him must appear 

 so obvious as to need no further elucidation. 



That the horse is as fond of the chase as the rider is evi- 



dent, since his eye will be seen to sparkle with pleasure 

 the moment he perceives the preparations for hunting. A 

 horse, on his way to the place of meeting, will frequently 

 manifest the pleasure he feels by a variety of antics; and 

 when the hounds have been thrown into cover, and are 

 trying for a fox, his impatience for the run is evinced by 

 characteristic indications which are too clear and too ex- 

 pressive to be misunderstood. Nor under any other cir- 

 cumstances will a horse make the same desperate exer- 

 tions, as in following hounds. In the latter end of the 

 season of 1S25, I had been hunting for a short time with 

 Sir H. Mainwaring's hounds ; and, upon my return home, 

 was mounted upon a mare, which, from having been much 

 overworked, seemed scarcely able to go more than four 

 or five miles an hour. I had something more than twenty 

 miles to ride, and commenced my journey about nine 

 o'clock in the morning. Whitley Gorse, the fixture for 

 that day, for SirH. Mainwaring's hounds, lay in my road, 

 and as I proceeded, the hounds, with their attendant hunts- 

 man and whippers-in, overtook me. The mare perceived 

 the approach of the hounds, before I was aware of the 

 circumstance, and the first signal I received was her lifting 

 up behind so high and so unlooked for, that I was thrown 

 upon her neck. I accompanied the hounds to the cover, 

 which was within a few score yards of the road, and they 

 were no sooner thrown in than my mare manifested a de- 

 gree of impatience which I had not expected to experience 

 in her jaded state. In a fe v seconds, a fox was found ; — 

 he broke away in gallant style with the hounds at his brush, 

 and my mare testified so strong an inclination to follow, 

 that I indulged her. I was never better carried ; and after 

 a brilliant thing of one hour and five minutes, I witnessed 

 the death of the fox. I mention this merely to show what 

 that generous creature, the horse, will perform under such 

 an excitement as hunting. 



Having noticed the impatience which the horse mani- 

 fests immediately prior to the run, it follows, as a necessa- 

 ry consequence, that, if this impatience be not judiciously 

 restrained and his powers properly used, he must be blown 

 very early in the run. The fact is, the commencement of 

 the run is the most difficult part of the business — it is that 

 which puts the judgment and skill of the rider to the se- 

 verest test ; and the horse should be so managed as to pre- 

 vent him from exhausting his strength in what may be 

 called the first burst, and yet keeping him well with the 

 hounds. Indeed, it appears to me that the horse goes much 

 more pleasantly to himself as well as to his rider, when 

 he has got what is called second wind ; and the same re- 

 mark is susceptible of a more extensive application. The 

 fox gets second wind, the hounds get second wind, as well 

 as the horse, and the run, which up to this period might 



