Part 2

I noticed, too, that bright liveried messengers plied amongst the stalls and boxes of the stands, doing the work of payment and receipt for the brilliant company sitting there. All this was repeated again and again, until my brain became accustomed to it. Presently, as if to cast a shadow on the gay scene, a red disc appeared on the number-board. “Objection.” The paying-out pigeonholes were closed for that race, and we held our breath; but not for long, since the tribunal of stewards had been chosen beforehand, and unless the subject of the objection had to be adjourned unavoidably, the disc soon proclaimed “Over-ruled” or “Sustained,” and the pay-boxes for that race were opened after the last race of the day.

Here ready money ruled the day. The welsher had been forgotten; the

## bookmaker had turned backer; the plunger could not find himself below

the bottom of his purse; and roguery was worsted.

The Jockey Club at that time was no longer wholly self elective. There was a certain proportion of its members affiliated by election to it, as representing the racecourse interests and owners, outside mere aristocratic connections. It was to them that the reforms in turf management were mainly due. Can all this really come to pass? It is but a dream, and I am awake. Nevertheless, that the totalizer or tote, as it is called in Australia, or the _pari mutuel_, as it is termed in France, or the pool, as it is more likely to find its name in this country, is destined ere long to become here also the rule of betting is my firm conviction, and with it will come aids to agriculture and assistance to poverty, as well as in alleviation of bodily suffering, such as will recommend it to peer and peasant alike.

Once again I dreamt, and my dream was of the future. It was shooting that filled my troubled brain. A letter was before me inviting me to a great battue, and yet it could not be intended for me, as a high rocketting pheasant requires to be of haystack proportions in order to suffer death at my hands. Nevertheless, it ran thus: “Dear ——, Will you do me the honour of joining our party for shooting my coverts during the week beginning the —— day of November? We hope to kill at least 3,000 pheasants. My land steward will send you full particulars of the rules which regulate my sport, to which I hope you will find no objection.” And this was what the steward said: “Dear Sir,—I am directed by Mr. —— to inform you that the following are the regulations which dominate his shooting, and which it is my duty to see carried out. No tips are allowed.

“Shooting will commence at 10.30 each day.

“A map will be furnished each day to you showing the beats and stands for the guns numbered in the usual way. Everything will be supplied you, except a loader, and any excess above 1,000 cartridges. Low flying birds may be passed by. A whistle will sound at the commencement of each beat.

“Lunch will be at 1 p.m., and will be announced by a gong. In case of rain, canvas covering will be provided over the shooting stands. A motor-car will meet you on Monday on the arrival of the train, and convey you to the Hall, and a like conveyance on Saturday will convey you back to the station.

“Enclosed is a banker’s order, which you will kindly fill up for the sum of £5, and return same, which goes to form the keepers’ fund.”

He might have added, but it was not on the circular, that a light dose of sal volatile will be provided to allay the headache which each day’s battue was likely to cause. Yet the method and completeness of arrangement impressed me.

I turned in my bed thinking of my spaniels and retrievers, and the many enjoyable raids I had had with them, when there appeared before me an autograph circular from a well-known London sporting agent, and thus it ran. “The Earl of ——— has arranged for the coming season to invite five approved guns to shoot over his extensive Norfolk estate in company with three guns of his own choice. The sport will extend over eleven days, six of which will be partridge drives, and five pheasant shoots. The bag should amount to at least 3,000 partridges and 4,000 pheasants. The appointed days for shooting will be fixed by the Earl. Terms, 300 guineas for each gun, to include all expenses, to be paid me in advance. All applications for this exceptional offer must be made to me on or before the —— day of ——— next, and guns will be accepted in their order of merit.”

I awoke. And so this was the shooting sport of A.D. 1925! Well, perhaps by that time the people of this country will for the most part have become Daniel Lamberts, and sitting or standing behind butts, and having all the more or less tame creatures for their slaughter brought to them, will be their only means of enjoyment. Thank heaven that your scribe will not survive to see these days, although we are already becoming very luxurious in our pursuit of shooting. Perhaps our middle-aged and older men will tell you that they are able to get this exercise in the enjoyment of golf, and that this is a set-off against the limited exercise that shooting now exhibits, and this may save them from falling a prey to fatty degeneration of the heart.

These dreams are horrible phantasies that we have to indulge in whether we like them or not, and seldom are they pleasant, nor will they come at call. I tried to dream into the future of fishing, a sport I love so well. But, alas! the spirit moved me not. Those lusty trout and grayling, and those sportive salmon, refused to be allured by any new means; their ways were just the same, and no newly-defined artifices sufficed to bring them to hand more easily or with less practical skill. Only the ranks of their enemies seemed to have increased. More and more fishermen came on the scene, who sought them out farther and wider throughout remote countries, and more money and greater artifice was employed to effect their capture, so that their preservation became a question of the day, as it has, indeed, become so to-day.

Your younger readers will perhaps hail with delight these halcyon days of sport, which, if my dreams have any portent, are destined to come upon us all the more swiftly, seeing that riches as they accumulate bring in their train luxury and indulgence, and that it is to wealth that our landed estates must come, unless they are destined to be swept away by the flood of social democracy, which, thank God, does not come within the scope of my dreams, for if so, “I had,” as Shakespeare says, “passed a miserable night, so full of ghastly dreams.”

If perchance, however, my dreams should prove ominous, let me implore you who in the radiance of youth have the opportunity of guiding and shaping the destiny of sport, to hold fast by the truer principles which have hitherto held sport so high in this country, casting aside its meretricious aids and surroundings, which only sap its true vitality, and would fain emasculate its worth to us as a nation. Stand fast by “the horse and hound,” and maintain a deaf ear to the tempter that whispers of the gorgeous trappings and luxurious surroundings, which are the death role of genuine sport.

Shakespeare once more comes to my mind when in “Troilus and Cressida” he exclaims, “My dreams will sure prove ominous to-day.”

BORDERER.

_P.S._—Since writing the above article, I read with pleasure that the first blow has been struck at the Gimcrack Dinner by Mr. Hall Walker in favour of the Totalisator. He is not only an extensive owner of racehorses and a successful breeder, but also a man who has had ample opportunity of thinking out this subject from a national standpoint. This freely expressed opinion of Mr. Hall Walker’s on betting reform will, let us hope, bear fruit, even if it is after many days.

Foxhounds.

THEIR ANCESTRY.

It might raise a considerable amount of discussion to assert that the foxhound had a longer line of ancestry than other breeds brought under the fostering care of Englishmen, but this much can be said, that when public opinion was turning towards the correct methods for the attainment of animal perfection, interest was taken in foxhounds similar to that taken in the racehorse, the shorthorn, or the red Devon. Could such a date be accepted at about 1730?—which was nearly a quarter of a century before Eclipse was foaled. The newly formed Ormesby stock of shorthorns was then about to be removed to Ketton, near Darlington, and the Davys and Quartlys had not commenced their improvements on the Devons. But there is evidence that foxhounds were beginning to be thought of at the time, and by 1750 a great many noblemen and gentlemen were very intent on hound breeding.

[Illustration:

FOXHOUNDS

_From the Painting by P. Reinagle._] ]

The Dukes of Beaufort had hounds, bred and walked at Badminton; the Pelhams had already formed the Brocklesby; Mr. Hugo Meynell had friends enough to apply to for hounds to hunt Leicestershire three or four days a week; and there were North country packs of fairly large dimensions. It was, indeed, a very interesting subject, and it is not a little singular that the idea of breeding hounds on scientific principles commenced at almost the same time as a change was taking place in regard to the animal to be hunted. Nearly half the eighteenth century had passed away before our forefathers had given up the custom of hunting the wild stag and the hare as almost the only quarries to be hunted on a line of scent. Just as the story of the Silk Wood run relates that the fifth Duke of Beaufort changed from stag to fox, because the latter gave the better burst, and laid himself out for a more open country, there was a general consensus of opinion that the time had come for a great breed of hounds to be carefully bred and trained for this special running. The bold onward style and cunning of the fox wanted something with more dash than was required for the short-running deer, or the hare always wanting to retrace her own foil. The fox taught that exquisite forward cast that almost sums up the pleasure of hunting; and the faster hounds will throw themselves on a line that is always well ahead of them, the more exhilarating is the sport. That is what the old pioneers of foxhunting lived for, and one may suppose it was brought about by selecting the hounds of the day that possessed the particular dash required. At any rate, old letters and manuscripts show that a vast number of sportsmen became very keen in regard to breeding such hounds. Long journeys were taken to secure their blood, and as one of the pleasantest of sporting writers has curtly put it, “the love of foxhunting was well in the air.”

It is almost incredible what the sportsmen of 1750 did do. As Mr. Pelham, the ancestor of the Earls of Yarborough lent a hound called Jimper to Lord Percival in 1760, and as he was stated to be by one called Rockwood, there is a suggestion of a back pedigree at that time. In fact, there was another of Mr. Pelham’s of 1760 called Marquis, by Rockwood a son of Rattler, by Lord Monson’s Mischief. Again, there is another of Mr. Pelham’s in 1766, by Tickler son of Ferrymann by Twister out of Careful, a daughter of Lord Granby’s Danger. Sir Walter Vavasour appears to have been in the thick of the hound furore of the time, and so does Sir Roland Winnes, Mr. Hassell, Mr. Watson of Old Malton, Mr. Lane Fox, Lord Middleton, and the then Duke of Devonshire.

But for the fact that lists were not generally kept in these early days, there is every reason to think that present hound pedigrees could be traced from the hounds of 1730 or 1740, but the registration departments of many of the great kennels could not have been very perfect as although Brocklesby can boast of records to 1713, there must have been some breaks up to 1745, when Mr. Pelham—afterwards the first Lord Yarborough—saw the necessity of keeping such accounts of breeding clearly and regularly, and so kept his stud books in his own handwriting. Whether this practice lapsed or not is not recorded, but when Mr. Tongue (Cecil) formulated his stud book, he could not go much further back than 1787; or at least that was the last date he gave to a hound called Dover, by Lord Monson’s Driver out of Whimsey. Cecil was a most industrious investigator, and he would have gone back to the Ark with sufficient evidence for the undertaking. As a matter of fact, my old friend, who gave me most of his hound lists, pulled up at something like the years referred to, his very latest date being 1779, when mentioning a bitch called Rosamond, by Mr. Meynell’s Roister out of Lord Ludlow’s Tasty. Of course, in making such researches, the difficulties to overcome are that many packs have been dispersed, and so records have ended. That really happened to Mr. Meynell’s, Lord Ludlow’s, Mr. John Muster’s, and Lord Monson’s, to the detriment of perhaps the hereditary packs that had been indebted to them for blood.

Considering that several changes have taken place in its history during the past hundred and fifty years, it is remarkable that so much hereditary material is forthcoming from Lord Middleton’s pack, but this is partially due to the fact that one man and his son after him were the huntsmen to it for nearly eighty years. These were William Carter and Tom Carter, the former being in office when Sir Tatton Sykes took on the country (with his brother, Sir Mark Masterman Sykes), that is now occupied by Lord Middleton. That was in 1804, but William Carter, who must have been an intelligent fellow, and particularly fond of dates and pedigrees, knew all the hounds from 1764. The book he compiled—and which is at the present time in the possession of Lord Middleton—was really perfectly kept, and through its pages some of the entries can be most certainly traced up to Cecil’s Stud Book, published in 1864, and so on to occupants of the kennel benches to-day.

I have no doubt that several lines can be taken, but I turn, for example, to a bitch called Jointress, who had quite a large family, in different litters, numbering about sixteen couples. She was out of Rosamond, 1775, by Sir William Vavasour’s Twister, out of Doxey, and the line had still greater extent, as Jointress had a sister called Jessamy, who was almost as prolific in producing good ones. Amongst the daughters of Jointress was Magic, and the latter had a daughter called Prudence, whose descendants came into the pack that was transferred by Mr. C. Duncombe to Sir Masterman Sykes; but William Carter, in his note to that effect, declares that most of these hounds were drafted. There is, however, the strongest evidence that Prudence produced a son called Pillager, and he was the sire of another Prudence, and in like manner a dog called Fairplay—from Famous, a daughter of Jointress—was a notable sire, and a son of his called Fairplay came into the Sykes’ pack at the above-mentioned date; he was the sire of Brilliant and Blossom, entered in 1805, and Brilliant was the sire of Boaster and Blue-Cap, and also of Blossom, Barrister, and Barmaid. Blossom subsequently produced in 1814 three couples, named Bounty, Blue-Cap, Beauty, Barmaid, Boundless and Bloomy; and Blossom likewise produced in another litter Bachelor, Barrister, and Blameless. Of these Blue-Cap certainly became a sire of note, and two and a half couples in two litters were put on by him in 1823, and one couple the year before. Sir Tatton Sykes appears to have stuck to this line, as Barrister, son of Blue-Cap, was also bred from, and was the sire of Brusher, Topper, Blue-Cap, Bachelor, and Blossom, and this last-named Blue-Cap was the sire of Bellman and Barrister of 1834. Then Bonny Lass was by Brusher, and she was the dam of Bellmaid. However, the very best branch of this family tree became noticeable in 1832, when Blossom, the sister to Blue-Cap, was mated to the Osbaldeston Flagrant, and the result was three couples of puppies all put on in 1833; they were Furrier, Ferryman, Finder, Famous, Flagrant and Favorite. Flagrant was possibly the best, as he was bred from in his second season, and produced Dreadnought, Domo and Desperate for the 1835 entry; but Famous in 1838 had a couple and a half in the entry, and Desperate had a daughter called Dainty entered in 1841. Primrose, a daughter of Famous, was by Bondsman, one of the family, and so Primrose was inbred to it. It may be thought that Bondsman was the sheet anchor really of the sort, as he must have lived to be a nine-season hunter, and one of his daughters, Music, and two of her sons, Denmark and Vulcan, were in the pack that the eighth Lord Middleton took over from Sir Tatton Sykes in 1853. There is more of the blood besides in the Birdsall Kennel at the present time, and so with a clear pedigree of a hundred and thirty years, to the good bitch Jointress of 1778, and her descent is easily traceable to 1764.

Lord Middleton has another line, though that is quite as certain in straining through the sixth Lord Middleton’s Vanguard and Darling to the famous Corbet Trojan; and let it be known that all the Oakley Driver sort—and there are none better at the present moment—trace to it through the late Mr. Arkwright’s Cromy by Lord Middleton’s Chanticleer, and so on to Vanguard, and his dam, Traffic, a great-granddaughter of Trojan’s. There has been a fortunate dependence on the fame of many noted hounds, such as Trojan, Vanguard, and, a little later still, to the Osbaldeston Furrier. The great Squire was so celebrated for everything that pertained to sport, that his declaration of Furrier being the very best hound he had ever hunted in his life told immensely with the great judges who became his successors, Mr. G. S. Foljambe, Sir Richard Sutton, Lord Henry Bentinck, and Mr. Nicholas Parry. They made Furrier the corner-stone of all their kennel-breeding operations, and so it is not difficult to-day to trace the excellence of Lord Galway’s Barrister blood, the Dorimont blood of the Blankney, all that remains of the Puckeridge, and the old Quorn Dryden family to Furrier. The most popular sire of to-day, the Belvoir Stormer, hits, according to my making out, thirteen times to Furrier, and in Weathergage it was certainly noticeable eight times. In all the great hounds talked of in the last quarter of a century, such as the Fitzhardinge Cromwell, the Belvoir Weathergage, the Croome Rambler, the Grafton Woodman, the Southwold Freeman, or the Quorn Alfred, there is the line to the little black and white—some have said shabby-looking hound—Furrier, who was got by the Belvoir Saladin in 1820, Saladin being by Sultan, by Lord Sefton’s Sultan by Mr. Hugo Meynell’s Guzman, of 1794, and Guzman was by German, also belonging to Mr. Meynell. On the female line Furrier was related to the Badminton Topper, and Sir William Lowther’s Dashwood to a bitch called Amorous, of 1791. This is as far as “Cecil” thought it advisable to go.

Mr. G. S. Foljambe, in the year 1835, had got some double hitting to the Furrier family, as he bred the brothers Herald and Harbinger, by the Osbaldeston Ranter, son of Furrier, out of Harpy by Herald son of Hermit, son of Saladin, the sire of Furrier. From the brothers in question Mr. Foljambe bred almost a pack. His Layman of 1861 was by Nectar, son of Nectar of 1849, and the latter’s dam was Princess by Harbinger, whilst the dam of the first-mentioned Nectar was Conquest, her dam Captive by Herald. Barrister of 1860 hit twice to Layman, and so again to the memorable brothers, and their blood was also in Sportsman and Forester, and very much again in Lord Henry Bentinck’s Contest, who was by Comus, son of Mr. Foljambe’s Herald, out of Sanguine, by the same gentleman’s Sparkler, by Singer, son of Streamer, by the Vine Pilgrim out of Sybil, by the Osbaldeston Ranter, son of Furrier. This is all combined in modern day pedigrees, and especially through Sir Richard Sutton’s Dryden, son of the Burton Contest, as he was the sire of Destitute the dam of the famous Belvoir Senator, again through the Croome Rambler, a descendant of the above Contest on his sire’s side, and through the Grove Barrister’s on his dam’s. Also to the Belvoir Weathergage, who was by Warrior, son of Wonder, son of Chanticleer, son of Chaser, son of Brocklesby Rallywood, who traced three times to Furrier, and then there was Royalty, the dam of Weathergage, got by Rambler, brother to the third Rallywood. It may well appear that the perfection of hound breeding was gained through their ancestry to the Osbaldeston Furrier, and principally by the means of four hounds selected to perpetuate the sort by probably two of the greatest masters of hound breeding ever heard of—Mr. G. S. Foljambe, who relied on Harbinger and Herald, and Mr. Nicholas Parry, who chose Pilgrim and Rummager. The last line to old Furrier might have been lost in the changes of time, but it looks now as if it will be stronger than ever through the policy that has been pursued of late by the Marquis of Zetland, Mr. Edward Barclay, the present Master of the Puckeridge, and Captain Standish, the Master of the Hambledon, through four and a half couples of whelps purchased in 1894 by the Hon. L. Baring at the Puckeridge break-up sales. Captain Standish is also breeding from the present Puckeridge Cardinal, who inherits the old strain from Gulliver. High breeding and to follow in the steps of the old master’s must do a great deal, as after all is said and done they must have known much about it a hundred years ago. The picture which accompanies this paper is dated 1804, and called “Foxhounds,” by Philip Reinagle, R. A.; Sir Walter Gilbey in his interesting work on animal painters tells us that Reinagle was born in 1749, and that he commenced to paint hunting scenes when about thirty-four years old, in consequence of his intense love of sport. He must have known all about it by the running of the pack in the distance, and by the two hounds with their heads at just the right level for that exquisite pose known as heads up, sterns down, and racing.

G. S. LOWE.

The Development of the Modern Motor.