HOUND.

From the combination of various causes, the history of no animal is more interesting than that of the dog. First, his intimate association with man, not only as his valuable servant and protector, but as his constant and faithful companion throughout all the vicissitudes of life. Secondly, from his natural endowments, not consisting solely in the exquisite delicacy of one individual sense, that fineness of olfactory nerve by which the earth and air send forth showers of perfumes; not merely combining memory with reflection that soars above instinctive preservation or self-enjoyment; but qualities of the mind that absolutely stagger us in the contemplation of them, and which we can alone account for in the gradation existing in that wonderful system which (by different links of one vast chain, extending from the first to the last of all things, till it forms a perfect whole) is placed, as Professor Harwood elegantly expresses it, “in the doubtful confines of the material and spiritual worlds.” It might have been instinct that enabled Ulysses’s dog to recognize him on his re-landing in Ithaca, after an absence which must have set the powers of memory at defiance; and he recognized him with all the acuteness and affection which instinct boasts; but what caused him to expire at his feet on the sudden dawn of unexpected happiness ? The heart of man could go no further than this; and although perhaps the poet’s fiction is only present to us in this instance, by what name can we call those tender affections, those sincere attachments, those personal considerations, which we ourselves have witnessed in these faithful creatures towards human kind? Virtue alone is too cold a term, as almost every good quality to be found in animated nature is to be found here; and when we reflect upon the miserable existence so often the lot of this kind-hearted animal in this world, and the more than uncertainty that, as Byron says, he will be w Denied in heaven the soul he held on earth,”

we cannot but feel regret that he should be without his reward. But yet this is a point not exactly decided upon by man ,∙ at least it has been considered as a fit subject for speculation by deep and able thinkers. Mr Locke, for example, doubted whether brutes survive the grave, because ithere is no hint given of it in revelation; but Dr Priestley thought, if the resurrection of the dead be within the proper course of nature, and there be something remaining of every organized body that death does not destroy, there will be reason to conclude that they will be benefited by it as well as ourselves. “The misery,” says this forcible writer, and great moral philosopher, <c some animals are exposed to in this life, may induce us to think that a merciful and just God will make them some recompense for it hereafter.”

But no animal has met with more variety of respect shown towards him than the dog has. By the law of Moses he was declared unclean, and was held in great contempt by the Jews, as also by the Turks, and kept by both merely for the purposes of scavenging their streets. In every part of the sacred writings, as also in those of Greece and Rome, not only are images introduced from the works of nature, and metaphors drawn from the manners and economy of animals, but the names of them are applied to persons supposed to possess any of their respective qualities. Thus our Saviour, adopting this concise method, applies the word “dog” to men of odious character and violent temper; and, as with us at present, the term of reproach, “he was a son of a dog,” was in common use among the Jews. The wife Abigail (1 Samuel, xxv. 3) “was a woman of good understanding, and of a beautiful countenance; but the man (NabaD was churlish and evil in his doings, and was of the house of Caleb.” But this last, says an able expounder of the Scriptures, is not a proper name. Literally it is, “he was the son of a dog.” On the other hand, the idolatrous Egyptians held the dog sacred, and worshipped him in their god Anubis, representing the form of a man with a dog’s head, which Juvenal complains of in his fifteenth satire:

“Oppida tota canem venerantur, nemo Dianam.”

Anubis, says Strabo, is also the city of dogs, the capital of the Cynopolitan prefecture. “Those animals,” says he, “are fed there on sacred aliments, and religion has decreed them a worship.” This absurd adoration is confirmed by Diodorus Siculus and Herodotus; and Rome having adopted the ceremonies of Egypt, the Emperor Commodus, when celebrating the Isiac feasts, shaved his head, and himself carried the dog Anubis.

But to proceed to their origin and history. It has been justly remarked, that “all dogs whatsoever, even from the terrible Boar-dog to little Flora, were all one in the first creation and every virtue and faculty, size and shape, which we find or improve in every dog upon earth, were originally comprehended in the first parents of the species, nothing having remained constant but their natural conformation; and all the variety which we now behold in them is either the product of climate or the accidental effect of soil, food, or situation, and very frequently the issue alone of human care, curiosity, or caprice. This we take to be the case with other departments of the creation. For example, we only acknowledge two sorts of pigeons, the wild and the tame. Of the first there is but one, the oenas, or vinago of Ray. Of the last, the varieties are innumerable. The tame and the wild goose are likewise originally of the same species, the influence of domestication alone having caused the tame ones to differ from the parent stock. Notwithstanding, however, the efforts and effects of human industry and skill, there is fortunately a ne plus ultra in nature which cannot be passed; and as there is a distinct specific difference in all living creatures, a pigeon is still a pigeon, a goose a goose, and a dog remains a dog. Still, although no human device can add one new species to the works of the creation, and nature is still uniform in the main, as we have already observed, in our remarks on the horse, she is always ready to meet the demands of art, a fact beautifully set forth in these lines of Hudibras :—

“How fair and sweet the planted rose, Beyond the wild in hedges grows!

For without art the noblest seeds of flowers degen’rate into weeds. How dull and rugged, ere ’ tis ground And polish’d, is the diamond.

Though Paradise were e’er so fair, It was not kept so without care: The whole world, without art and dress, Would be but one great wilderness; And mankind but a savage herd, For all that nature has conferr’d.

This does but rough-hew and design, Leaves art to polish and refine.”

We have good reason to believe that England (in a great measure from the congeniality of its climate) has long been famous for dogs, which, on the authority of Strabo (lib. iv. p. 199), were much sought after by all the surrounding nations. So high indeed in repute were British dogs amongst the Romans after the reduction of our [7:11:698]island, not only for excellence in the chase, but fierceness in the combat, that an officer from that country was appointed to reside in the city of Winchester, for the express purpose of collecting and breeding them to supply the amphitheatre, as well as the imperial kennel, at Rome. Nor was this all. As a kind of earnest of our present celebrity in the various sports of the field, all the neighbouring countries, as Dr Campbell remarks, “have done justice to our dogs, adopted our terms and names into their language, received them thankfully as presents, and, when they have an opportunity, purchased them at a dear rate.”^[1. Campbell’s Political Survey, vol. ìi. p. 205, note (D). ] Thus we find, that when King Alfred requested Fulco, archbishop of Rheims, to send some learned ecclesiastics into England, he accompanied his letter with a present of several dogs, being the most valuable he could, in those times, bestow. The congeniality of our climate has contributed much to this excellence, as our dogs, hounds especially, are found to degenerate in most others; which Somerville alludes to in his poem of the Chase.
“In thee alone, fair land of liberty,
Is bred the perfect hound, in scent and speed
As yet unrivall’d, while in other climes
Their virtue fails, a weak degen’rate race.”

We do not benefit much by research into ancient authors on the subject of dogs; for although they have been much written upon, and immortalised in song by Oppian, Claudian, Gratius, and others (Virgil says little about them), yet, from our ignorance of the sort of animal bred in their time, and the use they made of them, as sportsmen, we can draw no parallel between them and our own that would tend to a good purpose. No doubt the “canis vestigator” of Columella, and the “canis odorus” of Claudian, were of what we term a low-scenting sort, as the epithets applied to them signify; but it would be difficult to pronounce an opinion upon the xatfró^a/, or the aλω- -τε%∕δες, of Xenophon, although the characteristic properties of good hunting hounds are very well and accurately laid down by him in the third chapter of his Kυvn ι ∕ε-τ ∣ Mζ, as well as their defects in form, &c. equally clearly exposed; and his observations on these points might be perused with advantage by huntsmen of the present day.

Great encouragement has been given to the breeding of hounds in England by the various monarchs who have reigned over it. Henry II. was perhaps the first who made himself conspicuous in this department of the sportsman’s occupation, being, as one of his historians says of him, “particularly curious in his hounds, that they should be fleet, well-tongued, and consonous.” The last epithet is in reference to a property not only little regarded, but nearly lost now, namely, the deep tongue of the old English blood-hound, which Shakspeare alludes to in his celebrated description of those “of the Spartan kind

“ (So flowed, so sanded, and their heads are hung With ears that sweep away the morning dew. Crook-knee’d, and dewlapt, like Thessalian bulls; Slow in pursuit; but match’d in mouth like bells, Each under each :)”

which would now be considered a disgrace to any man’s kennel, and we believe nowhere to be found, bearing the faintest resemblance to the picture drawn of them by this master-hand.

In Queen Elizabeth’s time a classification was made by Dr Caius, physician to the queen, in his treatise De Cambus Britannicis, of the different kinds of dogs peculiar to Great Britain; but many of the names (the sleute or sluth hound of the Scotch, for example) having since become obsolete,' they were again classed by Mr Daniel, in his Rural Sports, which work contains a full and satisfactory historical account of their origin, different crosses, Ac. under the following genealogical heads :—Shepherd’s Dog, Iceland Dog, Lapland Dog, Siberian Dog, Hound, Terrier, Large Spaniel, Small Spaniel, Water Dog, Small Water Dog, Bull Dog, Large Danish Dog, Irish Greyhound, English Greyhound, and Mastiff. Taplin, in his Sporting Dictionary, expresses his surprise that the Pointer is omitted; but we consider the Pointer as a dog of foreign extraction, and to our early ancestors certainly unknown.

The original stock from which English hounds have been bred would be very difficult to determine upon; but one thing is certain, namely, that the several sorts with which the country once abounded have been becoming fewer and fewer, in the course of the last hundred years, and now centre in three varieties, namely, the Fox-hound, the Harrier, and the Beagle. The stag-hound is gone, at least there is no pack of stag-hounds now kept in Great Britain, the last having been disposed of and sent abroad, soon after the stag hunting establishment in Devonshire was broken up, a few years ago. The beagle is also become rare; and otter-hounds, such as we may conclude the %αΛ√g∕α∕ of Xenophon to have been, never existed in this country, the dog used in hunting the otter being the common harrier; and perhaps the parent of all, the majestic blood-hound, whose

“Nostrils oft, if ancient fame s⅛gs true, Trace the sly felon through the tainted dew,” is at present very thinly scattered, here and there only, at keepers’ lodges in some of our royal forests. But we more than doubt whether a true specimen of the original English blood-hound exists in England at all at the present day; nor is this a matter of regret, as, unlike the rest of his species, his character is said to be that of decided enmity to man. Strabo describes an attack upon the Gauls by these animals, and likewise says they were purchased in Britain by the Celtae, for the purposes of Avar, as well as those of the chase; but it is doubtful whether the most savage of this race would devour man without being trained to it, which Ave know that they were on a late horrible occasion, when, as stated in Rainsford’s History of St Domingo, they Avere fed upon blood, and a figure representing a negro, containing blood and entrails of beasts, was the object they Avere led to pursue. In the West Indies, however, the blood-hound, under proper control, has been found useful in tracing runaway negroes, as the sluth-hound of the Scotch was early applied to discover the haunts of robbers; and to the same purpose also on the confines of England and Wales, Avhere the borderers preyed on the flocks and herds of their neighbours, whenever an opportunity offered. Of deer-stealers, who Avere so numerous a century or two ago, they were likewise the terror; and Avell might they have been so, for when once fairly laid upon the foot of one, they seldom failed to hunt up to him. But it is in the civil wars of our own country that blood-hounds are placed in the most conspicuous light, particularly as available to the operations of Wallace and Bruce; and the poetical historians of the two heroes allude to their services to their masters, as well as to the escapes they had from those of their various enemies.

The distinguishing features of the English blood-hound are, long, smooth, and pendulous ears, with a wide forehead, obtuse nose, expansive nostrils, and deep flewed, with an awfully deep but highly sonorous tongue. The prevailing colour is a reddish tan, darkening to the upper part, often with a mixture of black upon the back. In short, the deep-flewed southern hare-hound, now almost extinct in England, very nearly resembles the English bloodhound in form and colour; and a person may picture to [7:11:699]himself the latter, by supposing an animal considerably larger than the old southern hound. In height he is from twenty-six to twenty-eight inches, and sometimes more. The blood-hound of the West Indies is also about the same height, but differs much in form. He has small, erect ears, the nose more pointed, and the hair and skin hard. His countenance is ill featured and ferocious; and although not so heavy as the English blood-hound, he is quite as muscular, and very active.

The distinguishing property of the blood-hound in chase, consists in his never changing from the scent on which he is first laid; and he will hunt by the shed blood of a wounded or dead animal as truly as he will by the foot, which rendered him so useful in pursuit of the deer or sheep-stealer.

The English stag-hound, now nearly gone, is little more than a mongrel blood-hound; at least it is reasonable to conclude, that the cross which produced him was directly from the En gush blood-hound with some lighter animal of a similar species (perhaps a greyhound, or lurcher) approximating his form, to which conjecture his figure and disposition, as well as his comparative inferiority of scent, appear to add strength. It is asserted in the Sportsman’s Cibinet, that the stag-hound “was originally an improved cross between the old English deep-tongued southern hound and the fleeter fox-hound, grafted upon the basis of what was formerly called, and better known by the appellation of, blood-hound.” But this assertion must have been made without proper reflection; for, in the first place, a cross between the deep-tongued southern and the fox-hound will not produce an animal nearly so large or so Strong as the stag-hound; and, secondly, the stag-hound was known in England long before the foxhound was made use of, or, indeed, before there was an animal at all resembling the one which is now known by that term.

We confess we regret the prospect of the total extinction of the English stag-hound, who, although his form possessed little of that symmetry we now see in the English fox-hound, was a majestic animal of his kind, and possessed the property peculiar alone to the blood-hound and himself, of unerringly tracing the scent he was laid upon, amongst a hundred others; which evinces a superiority,, at all events a peculiarity, of nose entirely unknown to our lighter hounds of any breed. The want of being able to distinguish the lhunted fox from a fresh-found one is the bane of English fox-hunting; and there are not wanting those who think, that in the breeding of the modern fox-hound, the minor points of high form and blood are more frequently considered than they should be, in preference of a regard to nose.

The Fox-Hound.

The English fox-hound of the present day is a perfect living model; but how he has become such, it is in no one’s power to determine. Although we do not like to apply the term of mongrel to an animal we so highly respect, yet there can be no doubt of his being one of a spurious race, engrafted with care on the parent stock, ιamely, the old English blood-hound. There is, we believe also, no doubt that a century and a half ago there was no animal in the world resembling the present breed of fox-hound; and that the fox, when hunted at all in Great Britain, was hunted by a dog much resembling what is now known as the Welch harrier, rough-haired and strong, but of very far from sightly appearance. As all animals, however, improve under the care and guidance of man, until at length they assume the character of a distinct breed; such has evidently been the case with hounds, the breeders of which have, by going from better to better in their choice of the animals from which they have bred, progressively arrived at the perfection we see in them. And such has been the case with all our domestic animals, the breeders of which have alone attained their ends by the choice of individuals of the highest excellence in their kind, and by a judicious selection of size, form, and qualities likely to produce the result. There can be no doubt, then, but that by pursuing this course throughout a number of generations with the hound, an animal has been produced of what may be called quite a new variety in the canine race, answering the description and purposes of our present fox-hound. But the questions may be asked, Whence the necessity for this change, and forcing, as it were, nature from her usual course? Why not be content with the low-scenting, plodding hounds of our forefathers, which, from the superiority of their nose, not only displayed hunting, in the strict acceptation of that term, to the highest advantage, but very rarely missed the game they pursued? These questions are satisfactorily answered in a few words; first, as the fox is not now found by the drag, and the number of those animals is so greatly increased, the necessity for this extreme tenderness of nose does not exist; and, secondly, by reason of the blood of the race-horse having gradually mixed with that of our hunters, the sort of hound we have been alluding to was not found to be adapted to their increased speed; and particularly as, in proportion as nature lavished this fine sense of smelling on the old-fashioned hound, was he given to “hang” or dwell upon the scent, thereby rendering the length of a chase (which, to please the present taste, should, like Chatham’s battle, be “sharp, short, and decisive”) beyond the endurance of a modern sportsman. It is true, Mr Beckford, in his Thoughts upon Hunting, gives an instance of a pack of old-fashioned hounds, which ran in a string, as it were, one following the other, and yet killing twenty-nine foxes in twenty-nine successive runs, each fault being hit off by an old southern hound. But what would our hard-riding, modern sportsmen think of this as pastime? Nevertheless, all who witnessed, as we have done, the style of hunting of the Devonshire stag-hounds, will remember that there was a close similarity between them in chase, and the pack Mr Beckford speaks of. But, as the same eminent author afterwards observes, it is the dash of the fox-hound of the present day that distinguishes him from all others of his genus, and hounds must now “carry a head.”

The breeding a pack of fox-hounds to a pitch bordering on perfection is a task of no ordinary aifficulty; the best proof of which is to be found in the few sportsmen who have succeeded in it. Not only is every good quality to be regarded, and if possible obtained, but every fault or imperfection to be avoided; and although the good qualities of hounds are very soon reckoned, their faults in shape and performance present a longer catalogue. Independently of shape, which combines strength with beauty, the highest virtue in a fox-hound is not in the exquisiteness of his nose, but in his being true to the line his game has gone, and a stout runner to the end of a chase. But he must not only thus signalize himself in chase; he must also be a patient hunter, with a cold scent, or with the pack at fault. In short, to be a hard runner and a good hunter, and steady on the line, which “a good hunter” implies, constitutes a perfect hound, when combined with good form.

The faults of hounds, too often innate, can only be cured by education. The greatest of all are, skirting, or not being true on the line, and throwing the tongue improperly; first, without a scent, which is known by the term babbling; secondly, not throwing it at all, or running mute; and, thirdly, on a wrong scent, which is called running riot. The latter, however, is the least vice of the two, because generally curable by the lash; but the fault of skirting is too often innate; at all events, too often incurable. Thus has the breeder of the ‘hound to guard against propensities as [7:11:700]well as faults; and a late accredited writer on the subject says, “In modem times, the system of hunting is so much improved, so much more attention is paid to the condition of hounds and their style of work, that in this enlightened age a master of hounds thinks it a reflection on his judgment if one hound in his pack is detected in a fault.”^[2. Colonel Cook’s Observations on Fox-hunting, &c. ]

The selection of dog and bitch to breed from is a nice point for a master of hounds, or his huntsman, to decide upon; but, if he aim at excellence, he must keep his eye on perfection. In no animal is perfect symmetry so desirable as in a fox-hound, for without it there is no dependence on his services, however good may be his nature. We will first describe him in the words of a very old writer, and afterwards in those of Mr Beckford, when it will appear that there is a strong resemblance in the portraits drawn by each. “His head,” says the former, “ought to be of middle proportion, rather long than round; his nostrils wide; his ears large; his back bowed; the fillets great; the haunches large; the thighs well trussed; the ham straight; the tail big near the reins, and the rest slender to the end; the leg big; the sole of the foot dry, and formed like a fox’s, with the claws great.” The latter says, “There are necessary points in the shape of a hound which ought always to be attended to; for if he be not a perfect symmetry, he will neither run fast nor bear much work; he has much to undergo, and should have strength proportioned to it. Let his legs be straight as arrows; his feet round, and not too large; his shoulders back; his breast rather wide than narrow; his chest deep; his back broad; his head small; his neck thin; his tail thick and brushy; if he carry it well so much the better.” Now the hound that would answer to either of these descriptions would disgrace no man’s kennel, and one resembling the latter would be an ornament to it; but with regard to the former, it must be borne in mind, that it is from the -pen of a sportsman who wrote a century and half ago, when, as has been before observed, there is reason to believe no animal in the perfect form of the modern foxhound was to be found in this or in any other country. Judges of the animal, however, will be disposed to think with us, that there is much of the real character of the hound in the sentence we have quoted from this old writer; such as the long rather than round head; the wide nostrils (Pliny says they should be flat, solid, and blunt); and the dry, fox’s foot. But the “bowed back” appears to spoil all, unless by it is meant that gentle rise in the loins which the judge of hounds admires, and without which, the late Mr Chute of the Vine, in Hampshire, who hunted that country for more than thirty years, gave it as his opinion, no hound was able to maintain his speed for an hour over hilly and ploughed countries when “it carries ;”—a technical term for the earth clinging to the foot, which it will do after a slight frost on the preceding night; necessarily adding much to the natural weight of the hound. Beckford gives us the modern foxhound, and perfect, with the exception of the mention of one or two material points. “His chest should be deep,” says he, “and his back broad but he has omitted a point much thought of by the modern sportsman, namely, the back ribs, which should also be deep, as in a strong-bodied horse, of which we say, when so formed, that he has a good “spur-place,” a point highly esteemed in him. Nor is either of these writers sufficiently descriptive of the hinder legs of the hound; for although the “large haunch and well-trussed thigh” of the former denote power and muscle, nevertheless there is a length of thigh discernible in first-rate hounds, which, like the “well let-down hock” of the horse, gives them much superiority of speed, and is also a great security against laming themselves in leaping fences, which they are more apt to do when they become blown, and consequently weak. ' The fore legs “straight as arrowd ’ is an admirable illustration of perfection in those parts, by Beckford; for, as in a bow, or bandy-legged man, nothing is so disfiguring to a hound as his having his elbows out, which is likewise a great check to speed. In some countries the round, catlike foot is indispensable, and agreeable to the eye in all; but we would not reject a well-shapen puppy in other respects for somewhat of an open foot, provided his ancles or fetlocks were good, a point we consider of the greatest consequence to all quadruped animals. The shoulders of the fox-hound should resemble those of the horse—oblique, but at the same time strong; for a narrow chested hound is almost certain to get shaken by hard work, and consequently unlikely to endure beyond his third season.

As Beckford recommends the small head, we may presume the form and fashion of this point began to be changed in his time, and has, we think, been carried to too great an excess in the fox-hound of the present day, particularly in one or two kennels (the Belvoir, for example), where very short, as well as small heads, are a leading characteristic. For ourselves, we like some length of head in the fox-hound, not being able to divest ourselves of the idea of a cross with the pointer when we see him with a short head and a snubbed nose. Beckford also says the neck should be thin. We would add, moderately thin. We dislike a thin neck in any animal but the cow or the stag; at the same time we dislike a short, thick neck in a hound. His neck should be moderately long and moderately thick, with the muscles clearly developed; it should rise gracefully out of his shoulders, with a slight curve or crest, and, to completely satisfy the eye, should be quite free from exuberances of flesh and hair on the lower side of it, called by huntsmen “chitterlings” or ruffles, the hound having them being termed “throaty although there are numerous exceptions to this rule, as some of the best hounds England ever saw have been throaty; and although we are aware that one individual instance will prove neither the rule nor its exception, we can go as far back as to Mr Meynell’s famous stallion hound Gusman, for as throaty, and yet as good a fox-hound as we ever remember to have seen. We agree with Beckford, that the “tail,” now called stern, of a hound, should be “thick,” and moderately “brushy and if well carried, it is a great ornament to a fox-hound. But there is one part of it which the master of a pack likes to see nearly deprived of its covering, and that is its tip, which, when in that state, is an infallible proof of a hound being a good, and not a slack, drawer of covers. As a perfect model we refer to the portrait of Nosegay, a hound belonging to the Earl of Kintore. Plate CCXCIV.

But to return to breeding the fox-hound. In the breeding of some animals, beauty of shape is often dependent on the caprice of fashion, or the taste of the breeder; but in the breeding of hounds no such latitude can be given, for here beauty, or symmetry of shape, is alone in reference to utility, and adaptation of parts to the purposes to which they are to be applied. Yet the breeder of foxhounds has one point further to go; he must, as we before remarked, guard against propensities, which run in the blood of these animals perhaps stronger than their good qualities, and will sooner or later break out in their work. In the election then of a dog for a bitch, or a bitch for a dog, these matters must be attentively considered; and no man should breed from hounds of either sex that come under any of the following denominations, viz. not of a docile sort, but very difficult to enter to their game; given to run mute; to hang on a scent; or to be skirters; not [7:11:701]only not true to the line, but given to run riot either in ’ cover or in chase; and, above all things, if found evidently deficient in nose, and not able to run at head. Good constitution should likewise be looked to; but we would not reject a stallion hound, or a brood bitch, merely for being slack drawers, or for not being always at the head in chase, provided they were well bred, of good form, and true to the line, in cover, and out.

As to the proper combination of form, that must be self-evident to the breeder of hounds. If a bitch is a little high on her leg, or light, she should be put to a shortlegged, strong dog, and of course vice versa; if rather light in her tongue, that defect may be remedied by an opposite property in a dog. The defects in legs and feet can only be remedied by such means; and fortunate is it for the owner of an otherwise perfect and excellent bitch, that such remedies are at hand. Length and shortness of frame, as well as coarse points, are all to be obviated and altered in the same way, making allowance for the fact, that the laws of nature are not always certain. Constitution can likewise be mended by having recourse to that which is good (and none so easily detected as the dog’s); and colour changed if required. In fact, as Beckford says, “It is the judicious cross that makes the complete pack and it was the remark of this practical writer, and therefore high authority amongst sportsmen, that “he saw no reason why the breeding of hounds may not improve till improvement can go no further.” The question may be asked, is not his prediction verified?

But the act of crossing hounds, as indeed all other animals, although never thoroughly divested of chance, is one of more difficulty than most people would imagine, and one indeed which, by its results, would often baffle, if not puzzle, the profoundest of our modern physiologists. Our space will not admit of our going at length into this intricate subject, but great mistakes, we conceive, have been made by masters of fox-hounds, in breeding too much in-and-in, from nearest affinities, instead of having recourse to an alien cross. This was peculiarly apparent in the packs of two very celebrated masters of fox-hounds, the late Sir Thomas Mostyn, Bart., and the late John Corbet, Esq. of Sundorne Castle, Shropshire (the former of whom hunted Oxfordshire, and the latter Warwickshire, each for upwards of thirty years), who bred in-and-in, Sir Thomas from a bitch called Lady, and her produce; and Mr Corbet from a hound called Trojan, and his produce, to the great injury of their respective packs. We are aware it is asserted that a pack of fox-hounds should have the appearance and character of being of one family; but this expression is not to be taken in its literal construction. It is in the conformity of their character and appearance that they should bear a close resemblance to each other, and not in their close consanguinity. It is true, the celebrated pack of Mr Warde, the present father of the field, and a master of fox-hounds for the unparalleled period of fifty-seven years, which sold for two thousand guineas, only contained, in 1825, three couples of hounds not of his own blood, and those the produce of one stallion hound, Mr Assheton Smith’s Reubens. But we have no proof of Mr Warde’s hounds being better for adhering so closely to his own sort; on the contrary, it is the opinion, we believe, of the sporting world, reluctantly admitted, in consideration of the well-merited celebrity of their owner, that, latterly, the slackness of this renowned pack, unrivalled in fine form, •vas to be attributed to that circumstance. On the other hand, the rare but valuable combination of dash and nose, a match for the cold and ungenial Oxfordshire hills, for which the Duke of Beaufort’s pack has been so long conspicuous, has been traced to his Grace’s late huntsman, Philip Payne (said by Colonel Cook, in his Observations on Fox-Hunting, to be “the best judge of breeding hounds in the kingdom”), going from home for his blood, and sending his bitches to the celebrated stallion hounds of the best kennels within his reach. This, however, it must be remembered, is not within the command of every man’s purse, the expenses attending sending bitches to a distance, under any circumstances, being heavy; as not only must they be placed under the care of a trusty servant on their journey, but there are other occult expenses attending them, which none but masters of hounds are aware of. It is, however, a notorious fact, that the produce of some stallion hounds, if they have a fair chance by the bitch, seldom fail in turning out well; and perhaps the most signal instance of “like begetting like” in this species of animal, is that of Mr Osbaldeston’s Furrier having been the sire of an entire pack in that gentleman’s kennel when he hunted the Quorndon country in Leicestershire, which he would occasionally take to the field, amounting to more than thirty-five couples, although, as may be supposed, they were generally mingled with the rest of his kennel, which at that period contained a hundred couples of hounds. These Furrier hounds gave little trouble in the entering of them, and proved very true line-hunters, and every thing that fox-hounds should be. The annals of fox-hunting likewise record similar instances of the peculiar properties of stallion hounds transmitting their virtues to many succeeding generations, especially in the instances of the Pychley Abelard, the Beaufort, and the New Forest Justice, Mr Ward’s Senator, Mr Meynell’s Gusman, Mr Musters’s Collier, Mr Corbet’s Trojan, Lord Yarborough’s Ranter, with many others of more recent days, but too numerous to mention here.

The size, or, we should rather say, the height, of a foxhound, is a point upon which there has been much difference of opinion. The long-established pack of the late Mr Chute were at least three inches below the standard of his neighbour Mr Villebois’s large pack; also as much below that of his Grace the Duke of Cleveland, who had for many years also a large and a small pack; and at least four inches lower than Mr Warde’s, in whose kennel were hounds full twenty-six inches high. Various arguments are made use of by the advocates of large and small hounds. Those of the former assert that they get better across a deep and strongly fenced country than smaller ones; whilst the admirers of the latter insist upon their being better climbers of hills, more active in cover, and quicker out of it when their fox is gone; and are oftener found to be perfect in form and shape. As to uniformity in size, how pleasing soever it may be to the eye, it is by no means essential to the welldoing of hounds in the field, and has been disregarded by some of our first sportsmen, the great Mr Meynell for one, who never drafted a good hound for being over or under size; neither did Mr Assheton Smith, when he succeeded to his, Mr Meynell’s, country. The great object of both was to breed them with muscular power and bone, combined with as much symmetry as could be obtained; and •to be equal in speed and good qualities, rather than equal in height.

We consider the proper standard of height in fox-hounds to be from twenty-one to twenty-two inches for bitches, and from twenty-three to twenty-four for dog hounds. The minimum and maximum size of the last fifty years would have been found in the kennels of Mr Chute and Mr Warde; the Duke of Cleveland and Mr Villebois coming next to Mr Warde in what may be called the maximum class. Mr Chute’s motto over his kennel door was, “multum in parvo,” which was his great aim; and although very full of power, and particularly neat in appearance, his hounds did not'more than average twenty-one inches. On the other hand, many of Mr Warde’s bitches, the most splendid animals of their kind and sex the world has ever yet seen, were better than twenty-three, and some of his dog hounds twenty-six inches high, which [7:11:702]was about the standard of the original Devonshire staghounds. It may be said of hounds, however, as h as been said of horses, that their height has little to do wi th their size, as far at least as their powers of action are concerned; and doubtless in all animals that labour, a medium height is the best.

The amount of hounds bred annually will depend on the strength of the kennel, and the number of days hunting in the week which the country they are intended for requires. From sixty to eighty couples are about the complement for a four-days-a-week country, which will require the breeding of a hundred couples of puppies every year, allowing the usual diminution of the entry by malconformation, under size, and that bane to the kennel, the distemper, which often takes off a moiety of them. As the period of gestation in the female dog is somewhat over two calendar months, the fox-hound bitch should, if she can be spared, be put to dog in January, as then she will litter in the spring, when the weather is comparatively mild (cold being destructive of young animals of this sort), and the puppies will then come early into kennel, generally be of good size, and powerful; and be entered without loss of time. The tips of their sterns being pinched off, and their dew-claws cut, whelps should be taken to their walks at about two months old; and if to one where there is plenty of milk or whey, they will be the better for it. Whelps walked at butchers’ houses grow to a great size, but they are apt to be heavy-shouldered and throaty, and otherwise out of shape. If possible to avoid it, puppies should never be tied up, as perpetually drawing at the collar-chain throws their elbows out, and otherwise damages their legs, particularly by spreading their feet, and altering the form of their ancles, although it is sometimes almost impossible to avoid it, from their proneness to do mischief. If old bitches are bred from, they should be put to young dogs, and of course vice versa ; and a bitch should not be worked for at least the last month of her time; and immediately on her whelps being taken from her, a dose of physic should be given her.

It is said that the dog in a state of nature is subject to few diseases, and for these he finds his cure by an instinctive faculty; in a domesticated state, however, he is subject to many, and some of an awful nature, which maybe classed among the opprobria medicoum, no certain remedy being discovered for them. Amongst these is one called the distemper, not known by our forefathers, but at present become a sort of periodical disorder in kennels, to the destruction of thousands of young hounds annually. The first symptoms of this disease are, generally, a dry husky cough; want of appetite, and consequent loss of flesh; extreme dulness, and a running from the nose and eyes. As the disease advances, it is attended with twitchings of the head, while the animal becomes excessively weak in the loins and hinder extremities; is greatly emaciated; runs at the eyes and nose, and smells very offensively. At length the twitchings assume the appearance of convulsive fits, accompanied with giddiness, which cause the dog to turn round; he has a constant inclination to dung, with obstinate costiveness at one time, or incessant purging at another. Finally, the stomach becomes extremely irritable; every thing swallowed is instantly thrown up; and the dog generally dies in a spasmodic fit.

For the cure of this disorder many remedies have been prescribed; but as none of them can be relied upon as specific, we decline giving them,^[3. Colonel Cook says he has “sometimes” found the following efficacious Calomel three grains, cathartic ext. seven ditto, soap seven ditto, emetic tartar one half grain. Make three pills, and give one every other day. Vaccination was tried in some kennels as a preventive, but it failed, and was abandoned. ] and prefer transcribing the following observations of an intelligent and experienced huntsman in the service of a noble duke, accompanied by a comment upon it by a noble lord, also a practical sportsman, hunting his own fox-hounds.

“As soon,” says the former, “as the young hounds come in from quarters, a sharp look-out is kept for the distemper; and as soon as any of its symptoms appear, a dose of cold-drawn castor oil is given, and the following morning a dose of calomel and jalap. About seven grains of the former and twenty of the latter made into a bolus, and put over their throats before they have tasted any thing, and their heads coupled up above the level of their bodies for two hours, so as to prevent them from vomiting up the medicine, which they are certain to do if this is not carefully attended to. They are then to have their broth and their meat. The oil and bolus to be repeated in a day or two as symptoms require; that is to say, if the fever runs high, repeat the bolus, and, if only to keep the bowels open, the oil in small quantities. Indeed the great thing is attending to circumstances, and acting accordingly; as, for instance, nothing can be more different than when flux attends the distemper, and when fits and obstinate costiveness is the case. I believe, however, that at first a good scouring in both cases is of service. In flux, of course, don’t repeat the calomel, but take moderate means to stop it, as flux in a minor degree tends to keep off both fever and fits. To allay the flux, arrow-root, or boiled milk and flour porridge. There is no doubt that laudanum is the surest method to stop it, but then it is sure to end with fits. Fits at the beginning are no bad sign, and at the end nothing can be worse. I never either approved of bleeding or vomiting in the distemper; the first weakening too much, the latter creating and adding to the irritableness of their stomachs.”

“With the foregoing plain, sensible, and simple treatment,” says the noble lord in his comment on the foregoing observations, “my junior experience perfectly agrees with the opinion of; but I revert to what he justly adds about ‘ circumstances,’ and differ with him about the bleeding, as I think a good scouring out, and bleeding, before any thing symptomatic of the disease has fairly begun, highly commendable. But, vice versa, for instance, if you bleed after the disease has fairly taken root, the lungs, nine cases in ten, being affected, it is ten to one you kill the dog; but if done early in the day, I cannot but think it is of much service, prevents fever, and in many cases makes the disease less violent. I think perhaps the treatment of whelps, after they come in from their healthy walks to the close confinement of sometimes an ill-kept kennel, is the cause of the distemper taking more violent hold of ,them than it otherwise would do; and amongst the hundred pretended receipts of many huntsmen, the remark is a justly correct one, of what may cure one dog will kill another. But here and his ‘ circumstances’ put you right. What might be advisable would be this: As soon as your puppies come in, look them attentively over; divide the well-walked whelps from those that have been ill walked; bleed and scour well out the fat lot, paying of course attention to their diet, cleanliness, and exercise; and cherish the poor lot by the best food, giving them the castor oil without the calomel or the lancet. But a lot of well-bred fox-hound whelps are not to be left to the care of a whipper-in or a boiler, unless he is a perfectly sober, attentive, experienced man; for in this disease in the animal, as in the human species, the patient must be most attentively and closely watched.” [7:11:703]Kennel Management.

The management of hounds in kennel has undergone great changes for the better since Mr Beckford’s day; and, divesting the mind of the inferiority of horse flesh over cow or bullock flesh, the food of hounds, both in its nature and the cooking of it, is such as man might not only not reject, if necessity compelled him to have recourse to it, but such as he would thrive and do well upon. It is a common expression, that “any thing will do for dogs,” and experience informs us they will exist upon very miserable fare; but hounds, to be in condition, must have every thing good of its kind, and also well cooked. Were a master of hounds, or huntsman, of the present day, to follow Beckford’s advice, of putting his hounds to a horse fresh killed, after a hard day, his brother sportsmen would think him mad; nor is there scarcely any thing now used in our first-rate kennels but the best oatmeal (Scotch or Irish is the best), one year old, and well-boiled horse flesh, quite free from taint. The meal is put into the copper when the water boils, and should be boiled up a second time, and, in all, for at least two hours; for nothing is worse for the wind of hounds than meal not thoroughly boiled. When taken out of the boiler, it forms a substance resembling coarse rice pudding; and when the fresh flesh, which is shredded, and the broth in which it is boiled, are added to it in the trough, and very well mixed, it forms the best and highest food that can be given to hounds. In some kennels, after the example of that famous huntsman the late Thomas Oldacre, the meal and flesh are boiled up together, with the idea that more of the virtue of the flesh is then imparted to the meal than when it is merely mixed with the broth; but the practice is not general. But such is the difference of constitution in hounds, and the aptitude of some, over others, to gain flesh, or become foul, persons who are particular as to the condition of their pack have troughs filled accordingly, that is, one with thinner food than another, for hounds of the former description. No animal in the world is so soon up and down in his condition as the dog; and, strange as it may appear, the effect of two or three extra mouthfuls of thick meat will be visible on some hounds on the second day after they have eaten them. Nevertheless, the dog being strictly a carnivorous animal, cannot stand hard work without flesh, which he should have a fair allowance of once a day, according as his constitution may require it. Some masters of hounds, however (the justly celebrated Mr Ralph Lambton one of them), do not feed with flesh on the day before hunting, giving only meal and broth; and this on the supposition that the faculty of scent is more delicately susceptible without it. Young hounds lately come from walks should be fed twice in the day, as they do not always, at first, take to kennel food.

Colonel Cook is thus explicit and correct on the subject of feeding hounds, and their condition, the result of many years experience, and great attention to the kennel. ’ * It is quite certain,” says he, “a hound too high in condition cannot run a burst, neither can a poor half-starved one kill an afternoon fox; a hound, therefore, cannot be considered as fit to be brought out, if he is either too high or too low. I like to see their ribs, but their loins should be well filled up, and they should be hollow in their flanks: he that is full in the flanks is sure to be fat in the inside, and consequently not fit for work. The feeding of hounds, and the bringing them to cover, able to run a burst, or kill an afternoon fox, is not altogether a thing so easy as some people imagine; in fact, it requires nearly as much trouble to get a hound into condition as it does a horse; and if the greatest attention is not paid to this particular, you cannot expect to catch many foxes. It is the condition of a hound which gives him the advantage over the animal he hunts. Nevertheless their constitutions diffe as much as those of the human species; some requir∣ thick food, others thin; the same quantity which may ♭ requisite for Ranter, if given to Rallywood, would rende him unable to run a yard. Some time before huntin (say about three weeks), they should have plenty of wall ing exercise, and salts given them once a week. If hound is at any time very foul, the following receipt i very efficacious :—Three grains of Aethiops mineral, fiv grains of calomel, made into a ball: the hound must c course be carefully kept from cold water.”

In the summer time, when hounds are out of work, the do not require flesh more than twice a week, and succu lent vegetables in their food areat this time useful. The are also physicked and bled at the close of one season, an< before the commencement of the next; and, if necessary dressed over with a sulphureous mixture during the idl. months. But some owners of hounds, and huntsmen object to dressing them, conceiving that it opens then pores too much, and subjects them to rheumatic affee tions.

One recent and great improvement in kennel disciplin¢ is, a small reservoir of water within the walls, of sufficient depth to cleanse the legs of hounds, but not to wel their bodies, which they are made to walk through immediately on their coming home. Upon being turned inte their lodging room, they commence licking themselves dry, which, as a dog’s tongue is proverbially called his “doctor,” is most beneficial to their feet, by clearing them of sand or gravel, as well as healing any trifling wounds which they may have received. In the Duke of Cleveland’s kennel, this reservoir is filled with broth, which, in addition to its healing properties, induces hounds to lick their feet still more than water does. In flinty countries, the feet of hounds are very frequently wounded, which is a great disadvantage to those a little inclined to do wrong, as they are compelled to miss their turn, and so get above themselves. It also obliges a gentleman to keep a larger number of hounds than this country would otherwise require.

Hounds are fed on the day before hunting about eleven o’clock a. μ., but some delicate feeders require to be let into the troughs a second time. After hunting, they are fed as soon as they have licked themselves dry, which, by the warmth that arises from their bodies when shut up, is very soon effected; and in the summer time it is reckoned safer to feed them in the evening, as they then rest quieter throughout the night, and are less disposed to quarrel.

Colour of Hounds.

Independently of the justness and elegance of figure in animals, which adapt them to the uses or ends of their creation, nature has been profuse in the adornment of the surface of their bodies by various beautiful colours. But in proof that the Creator never errs from his design in any of the qualities he has communicated to his creatures, and that he adorns not merely for the sake of ornament alone, these beauties conferred upon them are found greatly to contribute to their well-being; for with them they have received the consciousness of possessing, and a desire to preserve them. In fact, it is this which attaches them so closely to their being, and renders them so attentive to cleanse, ornament, and take care of themselves, as we every day see they do; and to preserve, in all its lustre, the enamel which nature has given them. And we may go even one step farther than this. An. accurate observer of animals will perceive, that they are not only conscious of their own beauty, but are capable of beholding and admiring it in others. This is undoubtedly the case with regard to both sexes of the same species: never are they so atten [7:11:704]tive to display the graces which nature has bestowed upon them, never are they so ostentatious, as when they are together, which is evident from their gambols and frolics; and, if we may judge of them from our own feelings, how greatly must this disposition contribute to their mutual felicity.

In no animal is variety of colours more conspicuous than in hounds, and it adds greatly to their appearance when we see them in a body in the kennel, but still more so in the field. The prevailing ones with the fox-hound are these: Tan (not common); black (not common); black and white and tan (the most common); milk white (not common); red (very rare); blue (the same). Next come the blended, or mixed colours, known in the kennel as “pies.” There is the red pie; the blue pie; the yellow pie; the grey pie; the lemon pie (very handsome); the hare pie; and the badger pie, which last is very characteristic of the fox-hound. The fox-hound is sometimes ticked, that is, his coat is dotted with small white specks on a dark ground, but he is rarely what is called “mottled” (motley); and, we believe, what is known by “a blue mottled hound” is not to be found among fox-hounds, being peculiar to harriers and beagles. There was for many years a pack of “blue mottled” harriers kept near Croydon, in Surrey.

It is asserted that the original colour of the English fox-hound was fallow, or pale yellow (Shakspeare speaks of a fallow greyhound) ; and we are inclined to this opinion from its being spoken of in several old works upon hunting, as the “best colour for hounds that hunt the hart or roe ;” and there can be no doubt of our fox-hounds being originally descended from that breed of dog, be it what it may. As we know that a recurrence to original colour frequently takes place in animals and 15irds, after its disappearance throughout several generations, this may probably account for the various pied hounds we see in kennels, the produce of hounds of distinct colours, perhaps merely black and white, and often of those nearly black. Moreover, at Ashdown Park, in Berkshire, an old seat of the Craven family, there is a picture of a pack of fox-hounds, above a hundred years old, in which every hound is either fallow coloured or red.

The Tongue, or Cry of Hounds.

During the early stages of mental progress, the ear is of more importance to man than the eye. Indeed at all times sounds, by association, become the signs of ideas; and the great variety in the voice of nature must have been designed to meet the peculiar tastes and purposes of the countless multitudes that dwell on the face of the earth. That the cry of hounds is a voluntary noise, proceeding from a powerful organic impulse, is quite apparent, as is also the purpose for which the impulse is given; namely, to announce their having discovered the scent of an animal, either obnoxious to their notice, or desirable as food, and by calling their straggling companions together, and uniting their forces, the better to enable them to secure their prey. On the other hand, here is mercy shown to the prey they are in pursuit of. The tongue of the hound gives notice of his approach; and he does not pounce upon his victim as the silent greyhound does, which Gratius, in his poem on coursing, alludes to in the following verse :—

“Sic canis illa suos taciturna supervenit hostes.”

But the cry of hounds, melodious and heart-cheering as it even now is, has lost much of its poetical interest, from the change man has made in the natural organization of the animal from which it proceeds; and we shall never again hear of a master of a pack, after the manner of Ad- ' dison’s knight, returning a hound that had been given to him as an “excellent bass,” whereas the note he wanted was a “counter-tenor.” The great Beckford, however, was something of the worthy knight’s opinion; for he says, in his Thoughts upon Hunting, “ If we attended more to the variety of the notes frequently to be met with in the tongues of hounds, it might greatly add to the harmony of the pack.” This is well in theory. The natural organization of the dog is musical; he is, in fact, a victim to musical sensibility; and we may reasonably suppose that the notes of his companions in the chase may be as pleasing to himself as to his huntsman; but we more than doubt whether a huntsman of this day would draft a highly-bred and beautiful young bitch, as good too as she looks to be, merely because her light, fox-hunting tongue might be somewhat drowned, and now and then lost, in the general chorus of the pack. He would rather say, “Let every tongue be α fox, ^[4. “ Every tongue a fox,” is a well-known sporting phrase. ] and I’ll leave the rest to chance.” But, on a good day for hearing it, what natural sound is more delightful and animating than that of hounds in full cry, in the deep recesses of an echo-giving wood? Neither would those writers who have availed themselves of the beauty and sublimity which allusions to sounds in nature stamp on their various compositions, have at all descended from their eminence if they had, like Shakspeare, delighted as much in bringing the soul in contact with such a sound as this, as with the rolling of the thunder, or the howling of the storm.

The Age of Hounds.

The dog exhibits no exact criteria of age after the first two years, during which time the whiteness and evenness of his teeth are a pretty certain test of his not exceeding that period. An old hound, however, cannot be mistaken if only looked in the face, where he shows old age nearly as distinctly as man. As to the length of services of hounds, that depends upon circumstances. Few are found in a kennel after their eighth year, and very few after their ninth; and not many hard-working hounds can “run up,” or keep pace with the rest, after their fifth season at most. Hounds are in their prime in the third and fourth years; and although there are a few instances, such as Sir Richard Sulton’s Lucifer, the Beaufort Nector, and the Cheshire Villager, of their hunting in their twelfth, eleventh, and tenth year, the average of their work cannot, we fear, be placed beyond four seasons. Old hounds are useful in the field, but when they cannot run up with the pack, they should be drafted. The perfection of a pack consists in the great body of it being composed of hounds quite in their prime. Separation of the Sexes.

The separation of the sexes in the kennel and in the field is one of the late innovations in the sporting world, and generally considered as a good one. In the first place, it pleases the eye to see a pack of hounds nearly all of a size, which cannot be the case when it is composed of dogs and bitches mixed; and the character of the animal is likewise more uniformly displayed when confined to one individual sex. Secondly, by the total separation of dogs and bitches in the kennel and in the field, the former are less inclined to quarrel, and the latter are more at their ease, than when subject to the constant, and, at times, importunate solicitations, of the male sex. Of their performances in the field, however, when taken into it separately, some difference of opinion exists; and each [7:11:705]sex has its advocates. With a good fox before them, and a warm scent, bitches are decidedly quicker, and more off hand in their work, than dog hounds; but with a colder scent, or at fault, the general opinion is, that they are not bo patient, and more given to over-run it. That they are superior in “dash” which, Beckford says, is the distinctive characteristic of a fox-hound, we bejieve is universally acknowledged; and a celebrated master of hounds,^[5. Sir Bellingham Graham, Bart, of Norton Conyers, Yorkshire. ] who hunted them himself several seasons in Leicestershire, has been heard frequently to say, that if his kennel would have afforded it, he would never have taken a dog hound into the field. That, in the canine race, the female has more of elegance and symmetry of form, consequently more of speed, than the male, is evident to a common observer; but there is nothing to lead us to the conclusion, that, in the natural endowment of the senses, any superiority exists. It is however remarkable, that the Latins, when speaking of hunting, or “sporting dogs,” as we call them, generally use the feminine gender, one instance of which is to be found in the second ode of the fifth book of Horace (multa cane), which ode every sportsman ought to read, as it gives so pleasing a picture of a country life.

Names.

The naming of hounds and horses has nearly exhausted human invention, as well as classical research. Beckford furnishes a list of more than eight hundred names for hounds, alphabetically arranged. But the naming of hounds is somewhat under metrical control; for it is not only confined to words of two and three syllables, but their quantity, or rather their time, must be consulted. For example, a dactyl, as Lucifer, answers well for the latter; but who could holloa to Aurora? a trochee, or an iambus, is necessary for the former, the spondee dwelling too long on the tongue to be applied smartly to a hound. But there ought to be a nomenclator, as of old, at every kennel door; for it is but few persons unconnected with a pack that can recollect their names until after a rather long acquaintance with them, from the great similarity of form, character; as well as sometimes of colour," in old-established kennels. “How is it possible,” said a young master of fox-hounds a few years ago, “that I should distinguish every hound in my kennel by his name, when I find three spots on one side of their body, and five perhaps on the other ?” There have been, however, and still are, persons who can see a large kennel of hounds once drawn to their feeding troughs, and call them all by their names afterwards, the result alone of a keen and practised eye.

The price of hounds is strangely altered within the space of half a century, or less; and on this subject we cannot do better than quote Colonel Cook. “Hounds,” says he (p. 6), “have always been much undervalued; we sometimes hear of eight hundred or even a thousand guineas as the price of a hunter, and the sum of three or four hundred is often considered as a mere trifle; whereas a pack of hounds, on which every thing depends, ∖nvls only considered worth a few hundreds. Yet Shakspeare himself appears to have known the value of a hound; for in his “Induction” to the Taming of the Shrew, a nobleman returned from hunting thus speaks of his hounds with delight to his huntsman:

Nobleman. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds; Brach Merriman,—the poor cur is emboss’d, And couple Clowder with the deep-raouth’d brach.

Saw’st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good, At the hedge-corner, in the coldest fault?

I would not lose the dog for twenty pound. Huntsman. Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord; He cried upon it at the meerest loss, And twice to-day pick’d out the dullest scent; Trust me, I take him for the better dog.

“The sum of twenty pounds for a single hound in Shakspeare’s time,” continues the colonel, “and that not the best in the pack either, was no inconsiderable price. I am not alluding to i a lot of curs ;’ but surely a well-bred, established pack of fox-hounds, including brood bitches, and puppies at walk, must be cheap at a thousand or twelve hundred pounds.”

Now the value of anything is what it will fetch; and how far an established pack of fox-hounds is cheap at a thousand or twelve hundred pounds, is a matter of consideration with reference to concomitant circumstances; but that they will have cost the seller a great deal more, there can be no doubt. We should put the average price at something less than either of the above sums, although, within the last dozen years, several packs have been sold for the former sum; and the justly renowned one of Mr Warde, the present Father of the Field, fetched two thousand guineas; and the late Lord Middleton gave Mr Osbaldeston the same sum for ten couples of hounds out of his kennel.

The Harrier.

The modern harrier bears no greater resemblance to the one in use fifty years back, than the hunter of the present day to that ridden by our grandfathers. In fact, he is now nothing less than the fox-hound in miniature, which it is the endeavour of all breeders to have him. Their qualities also are as opposite as their form, the one delighting to dwell upon the scent, the other a little inclined, perhaps, to the other extreme. But the taste of the day for all sports of the field would not endure the tedious exactness of the old psalm-singing harrier; and not only in point of diversion, but on the score of the pot, the balance is greatly in favour of the improved variety. Before the old-fashioned harrier, the hare had time to play all sorts of tricks, to double on her foil, and so stain the ground that she often escaped by such means; whereas the modern hound, if the scent be tolerably good, forces her from her foil to fly the country, and very often beyond her knowledge, when a good straightforward run is the almost invariable result. The observation of Mr Beckford holds good here. He could not, he said, imagine a hound too well bred to show sport, and kill his game; but he could readily conceive the reverse, when the game ran stout and well.

To Sir John Dashwood King, Bart, of West Wycombe Park, Bucks, is the credit due for what may be termed the living model of the present improved harrier; and so characteristically stamped are his sort of hound, now widely spread, that they are recognised by a sportsman at the first glance. Their standard height did not exceed eighteen inches, and therefore, in that respect, they were not an overmatch for their game; but from the great equality of their size and speed, combined with rare hunting qualities, they killed more hares, with good runs, than any other pack in the kingdom, and for many, many years in succession certainly “bore the bell.” Sir John kept them more than thirty years, at Bourton-on-the-Hill, Gloucestershire, near the four-shire stone on the Oxford and Worcester road, where his father kept them before him; hunting partly in the vales of Warwickshire and Worcestershire, and partly over the Cotswold Hills, which latter country is famous for the stoutness of its hares, frequently standing an hour before this celebrated pack, after having been driven beyond[7:11:706] their knowledge by their pressing method of hunting up to them, a method quite unpractised by the old long-cared harrier. The parent stock of this pack was a small fox-hound from the Duke of Grafton’s kennel, called Tyrant, whose blood, form, and character, were strikingly apparent throughout; and so great was its celebrity, that it fetched the highest price ever known to be given for harriers, namely, seven hundred guineas, by Lord Soudes of Rockingham Castle, Northamptonshire. Sir John, however, deserved success. He bred upwards of seventy couples of hounds every year, and had an establishment of horses, &c. nearly equal to fox-hounds. The harehounds bred for many years by Mr Yeatman of Stock House, Dorsetshire (who lately resigned the Blackmore vale country, in which he hunted foxes), came next to Sir John’s in the true form and character of the modern harrier.

The Stag-Hound.

The English stag-hound is now known only by name, as there are none of the breed kept for the purpose of hunting the wild stag; and such deer as are turned out before his majesty’s, and the few other packs that follow this game, are hunted by fox-hounds of the highest blood that can be procured. And the change is a good one; for although the English stag-hound was a noble animal of his kind, he was not sufficiently speedy, nor perfect in his work, to satisfy the present taste, and he was likewise too much given to dwell on the scent in chase, as well as of very delicate constitution in kennel. He is originally supposed to be the produce of the old English blood-hound, by a cross of some kind of greyhound, such as the Highland deer-greyhound, approximating his own form. At all events, it is certain that the former, the blood-hound, was the dog first made use of in hunting deer in England; and it is probable that, as the taste for following hounds on horseback increased, a turn of speed was given to the original breed by a cross with a speedier sort. We may add, the old paintings of English stag-hunting favour this hypothesis.

The Beagle.

This variety of the dog is now nearly extinct, and for the same cause as the stag-hound. Time is at present considered as too precious to afford an hour at least, and perhaps two, to the hunting down one hare, which is now accomplished in a more off-hand manner, in twenty minutes. To an admirer of nature, however, and of the endowments given to inferior animals, the busy, intelligent, and highly-gifted beagle certainly affords a treat. His form, also, when not out at his elbows, is handsome in the extreme, and his perseverance in chase is exceeded by none. But he has one of the greatest faults that hounds can possess; he is noisy, and dwells upon the scent, whilst his game is flying the country before him. In fact, his only use or value now is (independently of being looked at and admired, for he is a perfect animal of his kind), to accompany a brace of greyhounds when a hare is wanted, and not ready at hand. There is, however, one pack of beagles kept in Dorsetshire, known as the Mountain Harriers, whose performances are much spoken of in the sporting world.

The Greyhound.

The greyhound has now lost his place in the catalogue of the dogs used in chase, neither can be classed as such, since man has deprived him of the necessary faculty of smell; but he was held in such high estimation in the middle ages, as to be considered as the peculiar companion of a gentleman. He never went abroad without these dogs; the hawk which he bore upon his fist, and the greyhounds which ran before him, were certain testimonies of his rank; and in the ancient pipe rolls, payments appear to have been often made in these valuable animals. But at no period of his existence was the greyhound the symmetrically elegant animal we now see him, nor possessed of nearly so much speed; neither was the diversion of the leash at any time carried on with so much spirit as within the space of the last thirty years, in various parts of Great Britain. But the necessity for, or rather the cause of, the change in the form of the greyhound, may be traced to his being no longer, as formerly, made use of to course and pull down deer, but chiefly to exhibit his speed at our different spirited coursing meetings, for the various prizes contended for, as also in private matches.

The Courser s Manual or Stud Book, by Thomas Goodlake, Esq. (1828), has the following interesting passages on the alteration effected in this species of dog. “In the days of Elizabeth,” says the author, “the greyhound seems to have been a fine and effective animal, but approaching more to the bony, wire-haired make of the Highland greyhound represented in the pictures of Edwin Landseer, and deficient in the symmetry and fine glossy coat which mark a high-bred kennel of modern times. It is probable, that during the early part of the seventeenth century, judicious crosses were made, partly from the beautiful Italian greyhounds, which we often see in family pictures, accompanying our fair ancestresses in their parks and plaisances, and partly from the stouter breed of dogs represented in Flemish hunting-pieces; and that even Persia and Arabia, whose greyhounds are not to be despised in point of form and speed, contributed their quota of blood; as it is shown by the history of Cromwell’s Coffin Nail, that the wealthier gentry of that period spared no expense or pains in improving the more highly-prized breeds of sporting animals. If we mistake not, some of the pictures of Charles the First contain portraits of greyhounds approaching nearly in point of coat and shape to the present breed.”

Speaking of the late Lord Orford, who, with respect to modern coursing, laid the foundation-stone of the celebrity to which it has arrived, and who, besides being celebrated for his greyhounds, established the first coursing club that we read of, at Swaffham in Norfolk, in the year 1776, the same writer says, “A few anecdotes of this noble patron of coursing may not be uninteresting. He was passionately fond of the sport; and as he was a man who never would do things by halves, but was zealous beyond measure in succeeding in whatever he undertook, he may be said to have made as much progress as possible in perfecting the breed of the greyhound, and encouraging an emulative spirit in coursing amongst his opulent neighbours, from the time he took it up till his death. Indeed, his extensive property, and his influence as lord-lieutenant of Norfolk, gave him the greatest means of accomplishing his favourite object. He could command such an immensity of private quarters, or walks as they are generally called, for greyhounds, that he bred largely, and few possessed the same advantages of selection. He is recorded as. having at one time fifty brace of greyhounds; and it was his fixed rule never to part with a single whelp till he had had a fair trial of his speed; consequently he had chances beyond almost any other individual, of having a collection of very superior dogs. Intent on obtaining as much perfection in the breed as possible, he introduced every experimental cross, from the English lurcher to the Italian greyhound. He it was that first thought of the cross with the English bull-dog, in which he persevered in opposition to every opinion, until, after breeding on for seven removes, he found himself in possession of the best greyhounds at the time ever known; and he considered that this cross produced the small ear, the rat-tail, the fine, thin, silky [7:11:707]coat, together with that quiet, innate courage which the high-bred greyhound should possess, preferring death to relinquishing the chase.” There is something curiously analogous in the sense conveyed by the concluding words of this extract. His lordship fell dead from his horse immediately after witnessing the triumph of his famous bitch Czarina, in a match at Swaffham, having been in vain admonished on the impropriety of taking the field in his then indifferent state of health; and his memory is introduced as a toast at most coursing meetings, as father and patron of the sport.

The Terrier.

The terrier is no longer the accompaniment to a pack of fox-hounds, and for the best of all reasons,—foxes are not nearly so often digged for as formerly; and his only use was, by his bay, to inform the diggers whereabouts the fox lay; and we suppose he took his name from his being so eager to get under ground. There is also a second reason why he is better left at home. He was seldom steady from icing, if he was from foot, and thus often the cause of riot. It was, however, a matter of astonishment to behold those which were very highly bred, making their way, as they did, to the end of the longest chases, over strong and wet countries, as well as through the thickest covers, and so often making their appearance at the end of them. At all events, if left behind, they were sure to find their way home in the course of the night, whatever the distance might be. One peculiarity of form was essential to their being sure of getting up to their fox, viz. not too full in the shoulder; and those whose colour was pure white, and who were broken-haired, were generally most esteemed by huntsmen. It was often their lot to lose their life, by scratching up the earth behind them, and cutting off their means of retreat; and they were now and then killed by a fox, the latter a rare occurrence. They were commonly entered to a badger, whose bite is more dangerous than that of a fox.