GIFT OF
Prof . Charles A. Kofoidi
HUNTING SONGS.
SIXTH EDITION.
HUNTING SONGS
BY
R. E. EGERTON WARBURTON
LONDON
BASIL MONTAGU PICKERING
196 PICCADILLY
1877
CONTENTS.
NTRODUCTION .
The Woore Country
Quaefitum Mentis
Old Oulton Lowe
Tarporley Hunt
The Little Red Rover
The Fox and the Brambles ....
The Earth Stopper
The Old Brown Foreft
The Dead Hunter
The Speftre Stag
On the New Kennel, ere&ed on Delamere Foreft
The Ladie Cunigunda of Kynaft .
The Love-Chace
A Recolle&ion
The Tantivy Trot . . . .
Hawkftone Bow-Meeting ....
The Ball and the Battue ....
On the Landlord
Chefhire Chivalry . . . .
M16I787
PAGE
ix
5
9
I 2
15
i 6
18
'9
24
2 5
29
3 1
35
39
39
4i
44
46
48
vi CONTENTS.
PAGE
On the Piaure of the Cheshire Hunt ... 52
The Breeches . . . . . . .57
Infcription on the Handle of a Fox's Brufh . . 60
The Sawyer 61
Song, written for and fung by I. H. Smith Barry, Efq. 64
Tarwood . . . . . . . .67
A " Meet " at the Hall, and a " Find " in the Wood 76
Song 8 1
Sport in the Highlands 82
" Importation of Vermin " . . . . .85
Bowmeeting Song 86
Farmer Dobbin 88
The Blooming Evergreen 94
Chemire Jumpers ....... 95
Tarporley Hunt Song TOO
A Remonftrance on Lord Stanley's Suggeftion that
the Seflion of Parliament mould be held during
the Winter Months . . . . 101
Highwayfide . . . . . . .103
Count Warnoff . . . . . . .105
Le Gros-Veneur . . . .... .108
The Keeper . . no
A Railway Accident with the Chemire . . .112
Tarporley Hunt Song . . . . . .116
A " Burft " in the Ball Week . . . .119
Farmer Newftyle and Farmer Oldftyle . . .122
Home with the Hounds 5 or, the Huntfman's
Lament . . . . . . . .127
On hearing that " The Chemire " were to hunt
Five Days a Week . . . . .130
We are all of us Tailors in turn . . . .130
CONTENTS. vii
PAGE
A Word ere we ftart . . . . - J 33
Hard-riding Dick *35
Thorn pfon's Trip to Epfom J 3 8
A Modern Stable . l l
On Reading in the "Times," April 9th, 1860, a
Critique on the Life of Afheton Smith . . 143
Tarporley Swan-Hopping *44
Killing no Murder J 47
On Peter Collifon's late Fall 149
Riding to Hounds J 5
Newby Ferry. . . I 5
Hunting Song I 55
Tarporley Song I 57
A Growl from the Squire of Grumbleton . .159
The Coverfide Phantom 162
The Ladie of the Caftle of Windeck . . .168
The Two Wizards 170
On a Tame Fox 175
The Mare and her Mafter 17 6
Farewell to Tarporley . . . . . .180
The Pheafant and the Fox 187
The Stranger's Story 190
The Lovers 1 Quarrel . . . . . .194
'Tis Sixty years fince 198
The Clofe of the Seafon 202
Lines on reading an extraft from the hunting diary
of V. D. Broughton, Efq. . 106
Lines for the ftone intended to mark the ipot where
the gentlemen, whofe boat was upfet on Loch-
quoich, were landed . . . . . 207
Epitaph on the Duke of Wellington's Charger . 209
viii CONTENTS.
PAGE
Epitaph on A. B. C. by X. Y. Z. . . . 209
On a Thorn Tree on the Grave of a Brood Mare . 210
The Roebuck at Toft ...... 210
Charade . . . . . . . .211
Welfh Hunting ...... '212
Paraphrafe by a Mafter of Hounds . . . .213
Epigram on a hard-riding Youth named Taylor . 213
Infcription on a Garden Seat formed from the Bones
of an Old Racer ...... 214
NOTES
INTRODUCTION.
SHORT account of the Club for
which fo many of them were written
will not, I hope, be thought an Inap-
propriate introduction to a new edition
ofthefe Hunting Songs.
The Tarporley Hunt was ejlablijhed in the year
1762, and their firft meeting was held on the \\th
of November in that year. Hare-hunting was
the fport for which they then affembled. Thofe
who kept harriers brought out their packs in turn.
If no member of the Society kept hounds, or if it
were inconvenient to bring them, it is ordered by
the 8th Rule that a "Pack be borrowed and kept
at the expenfe of the Society"
Societies fuch as the Cycle in Wales had in the
earlier years of the laft century been favourite meet-
ing places for the Jacobite gentry ; but whatever
were the politics of the founders of Tarporley Club,
it was evidently the love of hunting only that brought
x INTRODUCTION.
them together ; and from that day to this, difference
of political opinion has never been known to Interfere
with the election of the members, or to difturb the
harmony of the Club.
The Founders were the Rev. Obadlah Lane, of
Longton, county of Stafford, who had married
Sarah, fifter of the fir Jt Lord Crewe ; John Crewe,
fon of the Rev. Jofeph Crewe, Reel or of Barthom-
ley and Aftbury ; Booth Grey, fecond fon of Harry,
fourth Earl of Stamford; Sir Henry Mainwaring
of Over-Peover ; George Wilbraham, the builder
of Delamere Lodge ; his brother, Roger Wil-
braham ; Richard Walthall, fecond fon of Peter
Walthall, of Wiftafton ; Robert Salujbury Cotton,
fon of Sir Lynch Salujbury Cotton, of Comber mere ;
and the Rev. Edward Emily, whofe connection with
the county I cannot trace.
The original rules recorded in the firft club book
will not, after an interval of a hundred years, be
without inter ejl to the modern fportfman, Jhowing^
amongft other particulars, the hours which they
kept, and defcribing the drefs in which our fore-
fathers took the field :
" Tarporley Hunt, Nov. i^th, 1762.
Mr. Lane, Prefident.
Mr. Booth Grey, )
, ^ J \ Secretaries.
A4r, Lrewe, )
Mifs Townjhend, Lady Patronefs.
INTRODUCTION. xi
u We wbofe names are hereunto fubfcribed, do
agree to meet at Tarporley twice annually. The
firft meeting to be held the fecond Monday in No-
vember, and the fecond to be fixed by the majority of
the members who jhall meet at the firft ; each meet-
ing to laft for the /pace of f even days. 1 We do
likewife agree to fubmit to all the underwritten rules,
and to all other fuch rules as jhall be thought necef-
fary by the majority of the Society, for the better
keeping up of the fame.
Oba. Lane, Pres. Edward Emily,
y. Crewe, Sec. Ric. Walthall.
Booth Grey, Dep. Sec. R. E. Cotton.
Henry Mainwaring. R. Wilbraham.
George Wilbraham.
" I/?. Any member that abfents himfelf muft pay
the fum of one guinea unlefs his excufe Jhall be
allowed of by the fitting members.
" 2nd. Every member muft have a blue frock, with
plain yellow metalled buttons, fcarlet velvet cape, and
double-breajled fcarlet fiannel waiftcoat, the coat
Jleeve to be cut and turned up.
** yd. The harriers never to wait for any mem-
ber after eight o'clock in the morning.
1 The firft hunting day is meant by the fecond Monday.
The Gentlemen hawing agreed to meet overnight.
xii INTRODUCTION.
u \th. If the majority of the Hunt prefent are at
home on the hour dinner is ordered, they are not
expecJed to wait.
" $th. Any members that Jhall caufe or make any
dlflurbance during the meeting (upon refufmg to
fubmit to the fentence paff'don them by the majority
of the Society) Jhall be immediately expel? d.
" 6tb. If the Society conjifts of an equal number ,
the Prejident has a cafting vote.
, but the mare that
carried him was rode quite blind at the conclufeon.
There were only twelve horfes up out of the Sixty ;
and Will Crane, who was mounted upon a King's
plate Horfe^ called Rib, was in the twelfth. The
odds before running were f even to four in favour of
Mr. Meynell^ whofe hounds, it was faid^ were fed
1 Daniel does not give the year in which this match took
place. The letterprefs under a print in my pojfcffion, engraved
from a picture of the race^ by Sartorius, ftates that it was
run in Oftober, 1762, over the Beacon Courfe.
xxvi INTRODUCTION.
during the time of training entirely with legs of
mutton"
After the death of John Smith Barry, in 1784,
foxhounds were kept at Arley by Sir Peter War-
burton, and, probably as owner of the pack, a fimilar
requeft was made to him to Jit for his piflure, a full
length by Sir William Beech ey, for which the Hunt
paid 1 50 in 1811. Sir William. Is f aid to have
protected againft the uniform, and to have declared
he might as well be ajked to paint a parrot.
Since the date of the proceedings which clofe the
two firft books there have been but few changes in
the rules of the Club. The earlieft notice in the
Racing Calendar of the Tarporley Races, held at
Crabtree Green, is in 1776. On the inclofure of
Delamere For eft , in 1812, the prefent racecourfe
was rented from Lord Shrewjbury.
In 1806 it was agreed unanimoufly that the
members .Jhould fubfcribe the fum of ^3 35. each
tine next year for Jilver forks. It may appear ft range
to our ideas that a luxury, now fo univerfal^ Jhould
not have been introduced at Tarporley until the year
1806 ; but I am ajjured by a lady now living, that
fo late as 1 809, in one of the moft hofpitable houfes
in the county, a felver fork was never feen on the
dinner-table.
The number of the members was eventually in-
creafed to forty, and there is fcarcely an old family
INTRODUCTION. xxvii
name in the county which has not at feme period
been enrolled on the lift.
In tine year 1862 the centenary anniverfary of
the Club was celebrated ; an additional fum was
given to the Farmers* Stakes, and the whole county
were invited by the members to a ball, held at the
Grofoenor Hotel^ Chefter.
The " Chejhire Hounds" an ejlablijhment quite
diftinft from the Tarporley Club, originated with
the pack kept by Sir Peter Warburton. It feems that
James Smith Barry, who fucceeded to his uncle's
property in 1784, and continued to keep hounds ,
having in feme way offended the county gentlemen,
in the year 1798 Mr. Egerton ofTatton, Sir Peter
Warburton^ Sir Richard Brooke, and, I believe,
Mr. Brooke of Mere, built the kennels at Sandi-
way, to which the hounds were removed from Arley.
Mr. Smith Barry ftill kept his pack, and lived
during the hunting feafen at Ruloe. I have heard
from an old rejident in that neighbourhood a Jlory
which, if true, Jhows that he muft have hunted
under the difficulty of having no country beyond the
limits of his own property^ and the Jhifts to which
he was confequently compelled to refert. Old Richard
Bratt, his huntfman, was conftantly in the praffice
of hiring a man to run a drag early in the morning
from the kennel at Ruloe ftraight away to feme
cover belonging to the Chejhire Hunt. The fcent
xxviii INTRODUCTION.
carried the hounds into the gorfe, and fo gave the
chance of finding a fox in a cover which their
mafter bad no right to draw.
I cannot afcertain in what year Sir Peter War-
burton refigned the management of the Chejhire
Hounds to George Heron ; but the following anecdote
in DanieFs "Rural Sports," vol. Hi. p. 456, Jhows
that they were hunted by Sir Peter as late as 1807.
" To prove that the notes of hounds have an over-
powering influence upon the horfe, this incident^
which occurred Anno 1807, is related: As the
Liverpool Mail Coach was changing horfes at the
inn at Monk's Heath, the horfes which had per-
formed the ft age from Congleton having been juft
taken off and feparated, hearing Sir Peter War-
burton's Foxhounds in full cry, immediately ftarted
after^ their harnefs on, and followed the chafe until
the laft. One of them, a blood-mare, kept the track
with the whipper-in, and gallantly followed him for
about two hours over every leap he took, until Rey-
nard run to earth in Mr. Hibberfs plantation.
Thefe fpirited horfes were led back to the inn at
Monk's Heath, and performed their ft age back to
Congleton the fame evening."
George Heron held the management until 1818,
but in consequence of a bad fall, by which he was
difabled, Sir Harry Mainwaring, who eventually
fucceeded him, had undertaken the field management
in 1813.
INTRODUCTION. xxix
Sir Harry ) after a reign of nineteen years, gave
them up in 1837. His firft buntfman was Will
Garft^ who left in Auguft^ 1820, when John Jones
took his place , coming from Lord Scarborough, and
continued until May, 1823. Will Head^ who had
been educated under Sir Bellingham Graham, and
had been firft whip to the Chejhire for three feafons,
then obtained his promotion, and continued to hunt
them until May, 1832. A letter from the late Sir
Harry Mainwaring^ containing thefe particulars,
ends thus: " In 1832 Jofeph Maiden came from
Mr. Shaw, and remained with me until I gave up
the hounds, Augujl^ 1837, continuing with other
managers a firft-rate huntfman and a mojl excellent
fervant in every refpeft." It is with great pleafure
that I record this tejiimony to the character of one
who fo well deferv'd it. I cannot give the young
foxhunter a better fummary of the fport (which had
then^ I think, reached its climax) than is contained
in the following letter, addrejjed to the prefent Sir
H. Mainwaring^ which I have permijjion to pub-
lijh:
" Withington Hall,
" January loth, 1865.
" Dear Sir Harry,
" In the early days of the Nantwich Coun-
try, from 1805 onwards, there was great fport from
Ravenfmoor to the Hills. Leech was conftantly on
xxx INTRODUCTION.
tbe?n, and we hardly ever failed in finding in the
Admirals cover, and going dirett as a line over
that fine country. I dorft ever recolleft to have feen
finer fport constantly than at that time and over
that country. The hounds then hunted the Woore
Country ', and had a wonderful run from Buerton
Gorfe, went thro 9 Oakley Park (Sir J. Chetwood's),
crojfed the Drayton Road below the Loggerheads,
juftjkirted the Burnt Woods, left the Bijhop^s Woods
on the left, Hales on the left, right on thro' the
fmall woods at Knight on, and killed at Batch acre
Park (Mr. Whitworth' s in Shropjhire), 1 8 miles
as the crow flies , in an hour and forty-five minutes.
It was an extraordinary fine run, and to within
thefe few years that fox's pad was on theftable door
here. About the fame time the hounds had a run of
about the fame diftance from Old Baddiley thro'
Gholmondeley, Dods-Edge, to the Shocklach meadows
and over the Dee, but Reynard got fafe into Wales^
and it was too late at night to follow him any
further.
" So much for the Nantwich Country ! But in
Will Head's time we had as good a run as I ever
wiftfd to fee. We found at the Long Lane, in
Holford) hunted flow ly thro 9 Winnington Wood, the
Leonards^ Holbrookes nurfery ground^ up to the ice
houfe at Tabley ; here he waited, having been bred
in the roof of it. From this point we had one of the
INTRODUCTION. xxxi
mofl continuous fine runs pojjible, croffed the turnpike
road clofe to the lodge, to Tabley Walk, over Tabley
High Fields, left Mere Mofs juft to his right, thro 1
Gleave s Hole, over Winterbottom to Waterlefs
Brook, where Brookes Gorfe now flands, over the
brook, which was rather a puzzler for the Field,
but I faw where there was good getting out, and
jumped in. When I got to the top of the bank every
hound croffed me at an open rail place. With this
bother at the brook ofcourfe the hounds beat the Field,
which did not come up till they were cr offing Bud-
worth Heath. We then went behind Belmont,
croffed the Warrington Road, run down to the
Horns at Whitley^ where we kill'd, after a firfl-rate
run.
" The fplitting run over the Chefter Fa le, from
Waver ton Gorfe, was feen by few, when 'John
Armitflead's old black horfe, and J. B. Glegg" had
the credit of beating the Field. In Leiceflerjhire for
pace and country I never faw a more brilliant affair.
Rowland War burton himfelf will recoiled a capital
fpin we had from his own wood, croffed the paved
road a little above the Gore Bridge (all the Field
went with the hounds fave himfelf, Maiden, Self,
and one or two others). Knowing where the cover
was we put fleam on, went down the road to the
ford, and when we got to the top of the Gore Wood
the hounds came out under our feet. From this point
xxxii INTRODUCTION.
to Tatton Park we were never caught. The fox
then went acrofs to the Birkin Lodge, and up the
middle of the Park to the garden at the houfe, where
he was killed, after a moft brilliant affair. R.
Warburton will alfo recolleft a good run from the
Breeches, when one of the twin brothers, Peel, loft his
horfe direttly after leaving the cover-, Rowland's
advice was :
" May you the next time that white horfe you beft raddle,
See lefs of the Breeches and more of the Saddle. 1 '
In the fame neighbourhood, in Maiden's time, we
had a fplendid run from Radnor Gorfe, when Mr.
Knight was knocked off his horfe at the end of the
firjl field) and was ridden over by the crowd. The
fox fet his head Jlraight for Woodhay, left the farm-
houfe on his left, then up to Chertfey's Wood, croffed
the wide green lane at the top, at which point the
pace had thinned the Field very much. Sir Richard
Brooke, on a big grey, fell, leaping into the road y and
never got beyond. Maiden herejlopp'd the Corporal,
and the running was left to Olive of Stych, Coke
Gooch, and myfelf; but on going up the field, leaving
Alder fefs rough on the left, the Colonel's grey put his
foot in a grip, and went heels over head. The field
then was quite beat off. We went on to Bunbury,
then to the right, by Wardle Hall, and kiWd after
an unufually fine run at Rees Heath. Wilbraham
Tollemachejlopp'd the Rebel in the firft ten minutes.
INTRODUCTION. xxxiii
Dorft think this a very boa/ting detail of fport.
The only thing I can do now is to go a little over the
mahogany ; but a long life of uninterrupted good
health enabled me to be constantly out, and to carry
my recollections of good runs as far back as moJL
But I muft flop, for every good run were I to record,
Sir, I ne'er Jbould have done.
" Tours truly,
"7 B. GLEGG: 1
The race over Tatton Park from Mobberly Cover ,
4 miles in 8 minutes^ was an extraordinary per-
formance.
Sir Harry Mainwaring fupplies me with fome
further particulars of about the fame period :
Jan. 12, 65.
" In the palmy days of hunting in Che/hire it
muft be recollected that Glegg firft refers to the time
when George Heron kept the Hounds^ when Will
Garfit bunted them^ and Will Griffiths whipped in,
when Doddington, Dorfold, Bole/worth Gaftle and
Bryn-y-Pys, were the chief hunting houfes^ when
Crewe^ Eroughton^ Tarleton^ and (rather later on)
Tomkinfon^ Brooke and Glegg were the heroes,
when the Chejhire hunted the Woore Country and
the WycbeS) when they ufed to run as defcribed by
Glegg from Woore to the Bijhop^s Woods, and from
d
xxxiv INTRODUCTION.
Hampton Heath to the Duke s Woods, near Ellef-
mere. Later on, when my Father took the Country,
and the Psyches were given up, gorfes were made
in the Nantwich Country, and in the Cbefter Vale.
The Middlewich Country, then as it is now, the beft
in Che/hire, was hunted the fecond week in every
month, and the Withington Country the loft week.
The Withington Kennels were given up, and kennels
built at Peover.
" Glegg has omitted the two beft runs I ever f aw.
We wet at Hurleftone, and had drawn all the covers
in the country blank , when (it was late in March,
and Will Head, Huntfman) we found at 3 p.m.,
in a fmall patch of gorfe under Calveley Park
wall, a very fmall Fox. The hounds got away
clofe to him, and all went together into the barn at
the farmhoufe ; ' the fox is kill* d,' we all f aid, but
he got away under the door. Head caft the hounds
round the barn, away we went ! very beft pace !
over Wettenhall Green, up to the wood, left it and
Darnhall on the left, and made a fudden turn to the
right, over the very beft of the Minjhull Country, to
the river at Eardfwick Hall, a mile above Minjhull
Village. We croj/ed at the wooden bridge, and run
very faft almoft to Eradfield Green, bore to the left,
and we ran into our Fox, a fmall vixen without cubs,
at Warmincham Rectory, one hour almoft without a
check. James Tomkinfon rode c The Pea, 9 and he
mounted me on c Wbizgig*
INTRODUCTION. xxxv
" Maiden Huntfman, met at Afhley Hall^ a cold
day in March, high N. E. wind; fnow fell in the
morning. Put the hounds into Cooper's Plantation,
a fmall place, and immediately chopped a fine dog-
fox. Another was hallooed away at fame time, and
away we went at a capital pace almoft up to Cajile
Mill, turned to right, and then over a fine wild
country, the beft of Mobberley, towards Wilmjlow,
over Lindon Common , Warford^ Little Warford,
and up to where Chelford Station now is, left Aftle on
right, and away fir aight to Alderley Park, where I
faw the hounds run into him under the Library
Window dead beat ; about an hour y a very good run,
and many horfes beat.
" You will recollel a run in Ford's time^ March
I, 1842, from the 'Cobbler* up to the road at
Whitley Reed, turned over Crowley Mofs,Jir aight to
Arley, over the bridge at Arley Green to the Gore,
on to Tabley through the old Foxcover at Lower
Peover where Maiden came up and they killed him
at Gooftrey ; only about eight men with the Hounds ,
the Field having been all thrown out at Whitley
Reed."
Thefe indeed are runs to be remembered; without
wijhing to fet my f elf up as a praifer ofpaft times I
ajk, do we ever hear of fetch now-a-day ? I ajk in
forrow, not reproachfully ; hounds, horfes, and huntf-
men are probably as good, if not better than they
xxxvi INTRODUCTION.
formerly were, but every fucceeding year feems to add
feme new impediment to Fox-hunting. High farming
is rapidly converting our fi elds into gardens. u Look
before you leap" is a precaution more requifite than
ever fence the introduction of wire fencing.
The increafe of population and of dwellings pre-
vents a fox^ headed at every corner , from making
feraight to his point , and lafe hut not leafe in the
life of grievances is the fear city of wild foxes.
A burfe, fuch as that mentioned by Mr. Glegg,
from Waver ton Gorfe may ft ill excite us for ten or
twenty minutes, but where do we read of fuch runs
as that from Buerton, cc eighteen miles as the crow
flies in an hour and forty -five minutes ? J:
// was in Sir Harry Mainwarings time, on
the Jtb of April, 1829, that the meet of the three
packs took place at Shavington. The Chejhire, the
Shropjhire and Mr. Wickfeed? s Kennel fent each fix
couple of hounds. The Chejhire being the oldefe
pack and the place of meeting being in the Chejhire
country Will Head was appointed huntfman for the
day, Will Staples the Shropjhire huntfman, and " old
Wells" who had command of Mr. Wickfeed? s ken-
nel, were both in attendance. In the firfe run
the fox was lofe near Cloverly after a fafe thirty
minutes. Mytton took the lead and charged a pofe
and rail, ex claiming" Now for the honour of Shrop-
Jhire ! " He got a terrible fall, and was much hurt
INTRODUCTION. xxxvii
by another man jumping on him, there being about a
dozen down together. Mytton remounted, bleeding
and bare-headed^ but was too much hurt to take
another lead.
A fecond fox was found at Combermere, which
was run for about twenty minutes ', but, proving a
vixen, the bounds were flopped.
Though Will Head and Staples claimed each the
palm for their refpettive kennels, it would be diffi-
cult to fay which Pack proved its fuperiority in that
day 1 s hunting.
On Sir Harry Mainwarings refignation / 1837,
the eflablijhment was handed over to Mr. Shaker ley
of Whatcroft. Among fl the many good runs Jhown
during the Jhort time he conducted the Pack was that
from Calveley, alluded to under the title of " Chejhire
Chivalry" Mounted on his bay horfe " Tatton"
Mr. Shakerley figures as manager in the fore-
ground of Calvert's Pifture of the Chejhire Hunt.
In 1839, Mr. 8^ Barry of Mar bury and Mr.
Dixon of Aftle undertook the control of the Kennel.
Mr. Ford) of Abbey Field, who fucceeded them, held
the management for the feafon only of 1841, and re-
figned it into the hands of Mr. White.
" Leicefterjhire White]' as he is called in Mr.
Wickfted* s Song, was known far and wide for many
years as one of the bejl horfemen in England, whether
in the racing or in the hunting faddle. After re-
xxxviii INTRODUCTION.
tiring from the management, he ftill occupied the
Hunting Box, adjoining the Kennel, at Daleford.
Continuing to hunt with the Chejhire, and riding to
the loft as well as ever, he refided there till his
death in 1866.
In May, 1862, a portrait and memoir of him was
publijhed in " Baily's Magazine" Further parti-
culars of his career were afterwards recorded in
feveralfp or ting periodicals, and an interesting article
appeared in the " Saturday Review," February,
1866, where, in a quotation, he is fpoken of as hav-
ing cc left an undying reputation as a Gentleman
Jockey and Fox-hunter."
His mafterjhip ceafed in 1855, when the Pack
was handed over to Captain Maimvaring. Owing
to circumftances to which it is needlefs here to allude,
at the beginning of the Seafon 0/^1856 many of the
landowners warned the Hounds off their eftates, and^
in compliance with their wijhes, the hunting men
were compelled to fubmit to the lofs of their fport
rather than caufe a diffenjjion in the county.
In 1858, the county was relieved from this diffi-
culty by the acceffion of Lord Grofvenor. The Ef-
tablijhment in every department was kept up by him
moft efficiently, and our only regret was that his many
other duties compelled him fo often to be abfent from
the field.
On the refignation of Lord Grofvenor, in 1866,
INTRODUCTION. xxxix
Mr. Corbet, of Adderley, undertook the manage-
ment of the hounds, ftlpulatlng that he Jhould be
allowed to hunt five Inftead of four days a-week.
Peter Collifon, a very quick and aftlve huntfman^
retained his place with Mr. Corbet until i86y 9 when
he was fucceeded by John Jones, who had whipped
in to him for fever al feafons.
I truft that, In defcrlblng the difficulties which
now attend it, I have not drawn too gloomy a piflure
of the future of Fox-hunting. My beft wljhes are for
Its lajllng prosperity, and whatever be the obftacles
againft which it may have to ftruggle, my earnejl
hope Is that the youth of many generations to come
may continue to find as much enjoyment as their fore-
fathers have done In the noble fport.
HUNTING SONGS.
The Wo ore Country.
i.
OW Cummer's dull feafon is over,
Once more we behold the glad
pack;
And Wickfted appears at the cover,
Once more on old Mercury's back;
And Wells in the faddle is feated,
Though with fcarce a whole bone in his fkin ;
His cheer by the echo repeated,
'Loo in ! little dearies ! 'loo in !
n.
How eagerly forward they rufh,
In a moment how widely they fpread ;
Have at him there, Hotfpur ! hufh ! hufh !
'Tis a find or I'll forfeit my head ;
B
2 HUNTING SONGS.
Faft flies the Fox away fafter
The hounds from the cover are freed ;
The horn to the mouth of the matter,
The fpur to the flank of his fteed.
in.
Through ages recorded in metre
May the fame of each rider furvive ;
From Tunftall comes Broughton, call'd Peter,
From Styche comes the brotherhood Clive.
There's Hammond from Wiftafton bringing
All the news of the neighbouring fhire ;
Fitzherbert renown'd for his finging,
And Dorfold's invincible Squire j
IV.
Few Sportfmen fo gallant, if any,
Did Woore ever fend to the chafe ;
Each dingle for him has a cranny,
Each river a fordable place ;
He knows the beft line from each cover,
He knows where to ftand for a ftart,
And long may he live to ride over
The country he loves in his heart.
v.
There's Henry, the purple-clad Vicar,
So earneftly plying the fteel ;
Condu&or conducing him quicker,
Each prick from the fpur at his heel.
THE WOORE COUNTRT.
Were my life to depend on the wager,
I know not which brother I'd back ;
The Vicar, the Squire, or the Major,
The Purple, the Pink, or the Black.
VI.
On a thorough-bred horfe there's a bruifer,
Intent upon taking a lead ;
The name of the man is John Crewe, fir,
And Ajax the name of the fteed ;
There's Aqualate's Baronet, Boughey,
Whofe eye ftill on Wickfted is caft ;
Should the Fox run till midnight, I know he
Will flick by his friend to the laft.
VII.
The Ford they call Charlie, how cheery
To ride by his fide in a run ;
Whether midnight or morn, never weary
Of revel, and frolic, and fun.
When they lay this good fellow the tomb in,
He fhall not be mock'd with a buft,
But the favourite evergreen blooming
Shall fpring and o'erfhadow his duft.
VIII.
With Chorifter, Concord, and Chorus,
Now Chantrefs commences her fong,
Now Bellman goes jingling before us,
And Sinbad is failing along ;
4 HUNTING SONGS.
Old Wells clofely after them cramming,
His foul quite abforb'd in the fun,
Continues unconfcioufly damning
Their dear little hearts as they run.
IX.
Scent on the fallow now failing,
While onward impatiently prefs
The horfemen hear Charlie bewailing
In accents of bitter diftrefs
" Why, why will you fpoil me the day now ;
Have they run but to lofe him at laft ?
Pray now, friends ! gentlemen ! pray now,
Hold hard, let them make their own caft."
x.
One moment for breathing we tarry,
One caft and they hit it anew ;
See ! fee ! what a head they now carry,
And fee now they run him in view.
More eager for blood at each ftroke,
See Vengeance and Vulpicide rufh ;
Poor Renard, he thinks it no joke,
Hearing Joker fo clofe at his brufti.
XI.
See ! Soldier prepar'd for the brunt,
Hark ! Champion's challenge I hear ;
While Victory leads them in front,
And Havock purfues in the rear ;
THE WOORE COUNTRT. -
Whoop-hoop ! they have ended the fkurry,
And Charlie half mad with the run,
Firft dances and fhouts, " Worry ! worry ! "
Then tells what each darling has done.
XII.
A fig for your Leicefterfhire fwells !
While Wickfted fuch fport can enfure ;
Long life to that varmint old Wells !
Succefs to the country of Woore !
Let Statefmen on politics parley,
Let Heroes go fight for renown,
While Pve health to go hunting with Charley,
I envy no Monarch his crown.
1830.
)u
How the beft of all cures for a pain in the back
Is to fit on the pigfkin and follow the pack.
VIII.
Say, Glegg, how the chace requir'd judgment and
(kill,
How to coax a tir'd horfe over valley and hill 5
54 HUNTING SONGS.
How his fhoe fhould be fhap'd, how to nurfe him
when fick,
And when out how to fpare him by making a
nick.
IX.
Charley Cholmondeley, make known how, in
Wellefley's campaign
When the mail arriv'd loaded with laurels from
Spain,
How cheers through the club-room were heard
to refound,
While, upfill'd to the brim, the Quafitum went
round.
x.
Let Wickfted defcribe and futurity learn
All the points of a hound, from the nofe to the
ftern ;
He whofe joy 'tis to dance, without fiddle or pipe,
To the tune of Who-whoopwitha fox in his gripe,
XI.
Say, Dorfold's black Squire, how, when trundling
ahead,
Ever clofe to your fide clung the Colonel in red ;
He who, charge what he would, never came to a
hitch,
A fence or a Frenchman, it mattered not which.
THE CHESHIRE HUNT. 55
XII.
Let Cornwall declare, though a long abfentee,
With what pain and what grief he deferted High
Legh;
How he car'd not to prance on the Corfo at Rome,
While fuch fport Winterbottom afforded at home.
XIII.
The rules of hard riding let Tollemache impart,
How to lean o'er the pommel and dafh at a ftart ;
Emerging at once from a crowd in fufpenfe,
How in fafety he rides who is firft at the fence.
XIV.
How with caution 'tis pleafanter far to advance
Let them learn from De Tabley, Tom Tatton
and France ;
Who void of ambition ftill follow the chace,
Nor think that all fport is dependent on pace.
xv.
Twin managers ! tell them, Smith Barry from
Cork,
And Dixon, who ftudied the fcience in York,
Though we boaft but one neck to our Tarporley
Swan,
Two heads in the kennel are better than one.
XVI.
Let Entwiftle, Blackburne, and Trafford difown
Thofe Lancafhire flats, where the fport was un-
known ;
56 HUNTING SONGS.
Releas'd from St. Stephen's let Patten declare
How fox-hunting folac'd a fenator's care.
XVII.
Let the bones of the fteed which Sir Philip be-
ftrode
'Mid the foflils at Oulton be carefully ftow'd ;
For the animal foon, whether hunter or war-horfe,
Will be rare in the land as an Ichthyofaurus.
XVIII.
Still diftant the day, yet in ages to come,
When the gorfe is uprooted, the fox-hound is
dumb,
May verfe make immortal the deeds of the field,
And the fhape of each fteed be on canvas reveal'd.
XIX.
Let the pencil be dipt in the hues of the chace,
Contentment and health be pourtray'd in each
face ;
Let the foreground difplay the felet of the pack,
And Chefter's green vale be outftretch'd in the
back!
xx.
When the time-honour'd race of our gentry mall
end,
The poor no prote&or, the farmer no friend,
THE CHESHIRE HUNT. 57
They (hall here view the face of the old Tatton
Squire,
And regret the paft fport that once gladden'd our
Shire.
The Breeches.
WHEN I mention the " Breeches," I feel
no remorfe,
For the ladies all know 'tis an evergreen gorfe ;
They are not of leather, they are not of plufh,
But expreflly cut out for Joe maiden to bru(h.
ii.
Good luck to the 'prentice by whom they were
made !
His (hears were a ploughfhare, his needle a fpade ;
May each landlord a pair to this pattern befpeak,
The Breeches that lafted us three days a week.
in.
The fox is away and Squire Royds made it known,
Setting ftraightway to work at a pace of his own ;
Paft him fped Tollemache, as inftant in flight
As a ftar when it (hoots through the azure of
night.
58 HUNTING SONGS.
IV.
They who witnefs'd the pack as it fkirted the Spa,
By the head they then carried a ftruggle forefaw ;
At their heels a white horfe with his head in the
air,
But his bridle was loofe, and his faddle was bare.
v.
May Peel (near the Breeches at frarting o'er-
thrown,
Where he left the impreffion in mud of his
own ; )
When next he thinks fit this white horfe to be-
ftraddle,
See lefs of the Breeches and more of the faddle.
VI.
From Spurftow we pointed towards Bunbury
Church,
Some rounding that cover were left in the lurch ;
By Hurlefton we hurried, nor e'er tighten'd rein,
Till checked for one moment in Baddiley lane.
VII.
When we pafs'd the old gorfe and the meadows
beneath,
When, acrofs the canal, we approach'd Afton
Heath,
THE BREECHES. 59
There were riders who took to the water like rats,
There were fteeds without horfemen, and men
without hats.
VIII.
How many came down to the Edleftone brook,
How many came down, not to leap but to look ;
The fteeds that ftood ftill with a flitch in their
fide,
Will remember the day when the Breeches were
tried.
IX.
The pack, prefiing onwards, ftill merrily went,
Till at Dorfold they needed no longer a fcent ;
Man and maid ruihing forth ftood aloft on the
wall,
And uprais'd a view hollo that fhook the old hall.
x.
Too weak for the open, too hot for the drain,
He crofs'd and recrofs'd Ran'moor covers in vain ;
When he reach'd the Bull's wood, he lay down
in defpair,
And we hollow'd who-hoop, as they worried him
% there.
XI.
Pufs in boots is a fable to children well known,
The Dog in a doublet at Sandon is fhown,
Henceforth when a landlord good liquor can boaft,
Let the Fox and the Breeches be hung on his poft.
60 HUNTING SONGS.
XII.
From Vulpecide villains our foxes fecure,
May thefe evergreen Breeches till doomfday en-
dure !
Go ! all ye good fquires, if my ditty fliould pleafe,
Go clothe your bare acres in Breeches like thefe.
1841.
Infcription on the Handle of a Fox's Bru/h,
mounted and prejented by the Author
to Wilbraham Tollemache, Efq.
Feb. 20, 1841.
WE found our fox at Brindley ; thrice that
week
The gorfe was drawn, and thrice with like fuccefs.
For nigh two hours, o'er many a mile of grafs,
We chas'd him thence to Dorfold, where he died.
Tollemache ! in admiration of thy fkill'd
And gallant riding to the pack that day,
To thee I yield the Brufti, efteem not thou
The trophy lefs thus proffer' d by a friend.
6i
'The Sawyer.
THE imaginary cataftrophe, which is the fubjeft of the
following lines, originated in the warning given by one of
our party to the Faftor at Abergeldie, that, if he perfifted
in felling timber during the term of our leafe, he muft hold
himfelf relponfible mould any one " (hoot a Sawyer."
NOW Abergeldie gillies, as they range our
foreft-ground,
See fawing here, fee fawing there, fee fawpits all
around ;
In fear and dread, as on they tread no whifky
dare they touch,
No! not a drop, left, neck and crop, they take a
drop too much.
n.
" Aim ftraight to-day, my comrades, 'twill be
truly a dear hit
If, fhooting deer in the foreft here, manflaughter
you commit ;
If feller, felPd, fhould in the a6l of ftriking be
down ftruck,
Or Sawyer kick the bucket here, miftaken for a
Buck."
62 HUNTING SONGS.
in.
Vain words ! forth came a bounding ftag, his
antler'd head on high,
And, caring not a whiftle for the balls that
whittled by,
Away, alive and kicking, to the diftant mountain
fped - y
Though de'il a bit the deer was hit, the deal-
cutter was dead.
IV.
His fkull was crack'd, his only wage that day was
half-a-crown,
He was cutting up a billet when the bullet cut
him down ;
Many thoufand feet of timber had that Sawyer
rent in twain,
Now himfelf was fplit afunder, very much againft
the grain.
v.
We needed not the Sexton with his pickaxe and
his fpade
In the fawpit which himfelf had dug his grave was
ready made ;
Top Sawyer though he had been, to the bottom
he was thruft,
And we binn'd him like a bottle of old Sherry in
fawduft.
THE SAWYER. 63
VI.
Full many a railway deeper had he made fince
peep of day,
Ere night himfelf a fleeper in his narrow bed he
lay;
No tear-drop unavailingly we fhed upon the
fpot,
But we fprinkled him with whifky to preferve
him from dry rot.
VII.
Oh no ! we never mention him, that fhot we
never own,
We book'd him in the game book as an "animal
unknown ! "
We know not how the wife and bairns without
his board fubfift,
We only know we hit him, and he has not
fince been mifs'd.
Song, written for and Jung by
I. H. SMITH BARRY, ESQ.
OWNER OF THE " COLUMBINE " YACHT, WHEN
PRESIDENT OF THE TARPORLEY
HUNT MEETING, 1845.
I.
NOW riding fafe at anchor, idly floats the
" Columbine,"
And the perils of the ocean in November I refign ;
With other mefTmates round me, merry comrades
every one.
To-night I take command, boys, of the gallant
fhip, the " Swan."
Chorus.
Then up, boys! up for a&ion, with a hearty three
times three,
What tars are half fo jolly as the tars of Tar-
porley ?
n.
'Tis true, though ftrange, this gallant fhip in
water cannot fwim,
Afea of rofy wine, boys, is thefea the loves to (kirn;
The billows of that red fea are in bumpers tofs'd
about,
Our fpirits rifmg higher as the tide is running out!
Chorus.
TARPORLET HUNT MEETING. 65
in.
Still Twinging at her moorings, with a cable round
her neck,
Though long as fummer lafteth all deferted is her
deck,
She feuds before the breezes of November faft
and free,
O ! ne'er may (he be ftranded in the ftraits of
Tarporley.
Chorus.
IV.
By adverfe gale or hurricane her fails are never
^ rent,
ifl^canvas fwells with laughter, and her freight
is merriment ;
The lightning on her deck, boys, is the lightning
flam of wit,
Loud cheers in thunder rolling till her very
timbers fplit !
Chorus.
v.
We need not Archimedes with his fcrew on board
the Swan,
The fcrew that draws the cork, boys, is the
fcrew that drives us on,
And fhould we be becalm'd, boys, while giving
chafe to care,
F
66 HUNTING SONGS.
When the brimming bowl is heated we have
fteam in plenty there.
Chorus.
VI.
No rocks have we to fplit on, no foes have we to
fight,
No dangers to alarm us, while we keep the
reckoning right ;
We fling the gold about, boys, though we never
heave the lead,
And long as we can raife the wind our courfe is
ftraight a-head.
Chorus.
VII.
The index of our compafs is the bottle that we
trowl,
To the chair again revolving like the needle to
the pole ;
The motto on our glafles is to us a fixed ftar,
We know while we can fee it, boys, exactly
where we are,
Chorus.
VIII.
To their fweethearts let our bachelors a fparkling
bumper fill,
To their wives let thofe who have 'em fill a
fuller bumper ftill ;
TARPORLET HUNT MEETING. 67
O ! never while we've health, boys, may we
quit this gallant fhip,
But every year, together here, enjoy this pleafure
trip.
Chorus.
IX.
Behind me ftands my anceftor, Sir Peter ftands
before,
Two pilots who have weather'd many a ftormy
night of yore ;
So may our fons and grandfons, when we are
dead and gone,
Spend many a merry night, boys, in the cabin of
'" the Swan.
Chorus.
Then up, boys ! up for a&ion, with a hearty
three times three,
What tars are half fo jolly as the tars of
Tarporley ?
Tarwood.
A RUN WITH THE HEYTHROP.
E waited not he was not found
No warning note from eager hound,
But echo of the diftant horn,
H
68 HUNTING SONGS,
From outskirts of the covert borne,
Where Jack the Whip in ambufh lay,
Proclaim'd that he was gone away.
Away ! ere yet that blaft was blown,
The fox had o'er the meadow flown ;
Away ! away ! his flight he took,
Straight pointing for the Windrufh brook !
The Miller, when he heard the pack,
Stood tiptoe on his loaded fack,
He view'd the fox acrofs the flat,
And, needlefs fignal, wav'd his hat ;
He faw him clear with eafy ftride
The ftream by which the mill was plied ;
Like phantom fox he feem'd to fly,
With fpeed unearthly flitting by.
The road that leads to Witney town,
He travelFd neither up nor down ;
But ftraight away, like arrow fped
From cloth-yard bow, he fhot a-head.
Now Cokethorpe on his left he paft,
Now Ducklington behind him caft,
Now by Bampton, now by Lew,
Now by Clanfield, on he flew ;
At Grafton now his courfe inclin'd,
And Kelmfcote now is left behind !
TARWOOD. 69
Where waters of the Ifis lave
The meadows with its claflic wave,
O'er thofe meadows fpeeding on.
He near'd the bridgeway of St. John ;
He paufed a moment on the bank,
His footfteps in the ripple fand,
He felt how cold, he faw how ftrong
The rapid river roll'd along ;
Then turn'd away, as if to fay,
" All thofe who like to crofs it may."
The Huntfman, though he view'd him back,
View'd him too late to turn the pack,
WJdgh o'er the tainted meadow preft,
AncReach'd the river all abreaft ;
In with one plunge, one billowy fplafli,
In altogether in they dam,
Together ftem the wintry tide,
Then (hake themfelves on t'other fide !
" Hark, hollo back !" that loud halloo
Then eager, and more eager grew,
Till every hound, recrofling o'er,
Stoop'd forward to the fcent once more ;
Nor further aid, throughout the day,
From Huntfman or from Whip had they.
Away ! away ! uncheck'd in pace,
O'er grafs and fallow fwept the chace ;
To hounds, to horfes, or to men,
70 HUNTING SONGS.
No child's play was the ftruggle then ;
A trefpafler on Milward's ground,
He climb'd the pale that fenc'd it round ;
Then clofe by Little Hemel fped,
To Fairford pointing ftraight a-head,
Though now, the pack approaching nigh,
He heard his death-note in the cry.
They view'd him, and then feem'd their race
The very lightning of the chace !
The fox had reach'd the Southropp lane,
He ftrove to crofs it, but in vain,
The pack roll'd o'er him in his ftride,
And onward ftruggling ftill he died.
This gallant fox, in Tar wood found,
Had crofs'd full twenty miles of ground ,
Had fought in cover, left or right,
No flicker to conceal his flight ;
But nigh two hours the open kept,
As ftout a fox as ever ftept !
That morning, in the faddle fet,
A hundred men at Tarwood met ;
The eager fteeds which they beftrode
Pac'd to and fro the Witney road,
For hard as iron fhoe that trod
Its furface, the unyielding fod ;
Till midday fun had thaw'd the ground
And made it fit for foot of hound,
TARWOOD. 71
They champ'd the bit and twitch'd the rein,
And paw'd the frozen earth in vain,
Impatient with fleet hoof to fcour
The vale, each minute feem'd an hour ;
Still Rumour fays of that array
Scarce ten liv'd fairly through the day.
Ah ! how fhall I in fong declare
The riders who were foremoft there ?
A fit excufe how fhall I find
For every rider left behind ?
Though Cokethorpe feem one open plain,
'Tis flafh'd and fluic'd with many a drain,
And he who clears thofe ditches wide
Muft needs a goodly fteed beftride.
From Bampton to the river's bounds
The race was run o'er pafture grounds ;
Yet many a horfe of blood and bone
Was heard to crofs it with a groan ;
For blackthorns ftiff the fields divide
With watery ditch on either fide.
By Lechlade's village fences rife
Of every fort and every fize,
And frequent there the grievous fall
O'er ilippery bank and crumbling wall ;
Some planted deep in cornfield ftand,
A fix'd incumbrance on the land !
72 HUNTING SONGS.
While others prove o'er poft and rail
The merits of the fliding fcale.
Ah ! much it grieves the Mufe to tell
At Clanfield how Valentia fell;
He went, they fay, like one bewitch'd,
Till headlong from the faddle pitch'd ;
There, recklefs of the pain, he figh'd
To think he might not onward ride ;
Though fallen from his pride of place,
His heart was following ftill the chace ;
He bade his many friends forbear
The proffer'd aid, nor tarry there ;
" O ! heed me not, but ride away !
The Tarwood fox muft die to-day ! "
Nor fell Valentia there alone,
There too in mid career was thrown
The Huntfman in the breaftplate fwung
His heels his body earthward hung ;
With many a tug at neck and mane,
Struggling he reach'd his feat again ;
Once more upon the back of Spangle,
His head and heels at proper angle,
(Poor Spangle in a piteous plight,)
He look'd around him, bolt upright,
Nor near nor far could fuccour fee,
Where can the faithlefs Juliet be ?
He would have given half his wage
TARWOOD. 73
Juft then to fee her on the ftage ;
The pack thofe meads by Ifis bound
Had reach'd ere Jem his Juliet found ;
Well thence with fuch a prompter's aid,
Till Reynard's death her part fhe play'd.
There Ifaac from the chace withdrew,
(A horfe is Ifaac, not a Jew,)
Outftretch'd his legs, and fhook his back,
Right glad to be reliev'd of Jack ;
And Jack, right glad his back to quit,
Gave Beatrice a benefit.
Moifture and mud the " Fungus " fuit,
In boggy ditch he, taking root,
For minutes ten or thereabout,
Stood planted, till they pluck'd him out.
By application of fpur rowel
Charles rubb'd him dry without a towel.
Say, as the pack by Kelmfcote fped,
Say who thofe horfe men cloth 'd in red ?
Spe&ators of the chace below,
Themfelves no fign of movement fhow ;
No wonder they were all aghaft
To fee the pace at which it paft ;
The "White Horfe Vale" well known to Fame
The pack to which it gives a name ;
74 HUNTING SONGS.
And there they flood as if fpell bound,
Their morning fox as yet unfound ;
Borne from that wood, their huntftnan's cheer
Drew many a Tarwood ftraggler near,
And he who felt the pace too hot,
There gladly fought a refting fpot ;
Himfelf of that White Horfe availing,
When confcious that his own was failing.
Thus {hips, when they no more can bide
The fury of the wind and tide,
If chance fome tranquil port they fpy,
Where veffels fafely fhelter'd lie,
There feek a refuge from the gale,
Caft anchor, and let down the fail.
The fpeed of horfe, the pluck of man,
They needed both, who led the van ;
This Holmes can tell, who through the day
Was ever foremoft in the fray ;
And Holloway, with beft intent,
Still fhivering timber as he went ;
And Williams, clinging to the pack
As if the League were at his back ;
And Tollit, ready ftill to fell
The nag that carried him fo well.
A pretty fight at firft to fee
Young Pretyman on Modefty !
TARWOOD. 75
But Pretyman went on fo faft,
That Modefty took fright at laft ;
So bent was (he to fliun difgrace,
That in the brook fhe hid her face ;
So bafhful, that to drag her out
They fetch'd a team and tackle flout.
When younger men of lighter weight
Some tale of future fport relate,
Let Whippy how the brufti he won,
And tell them of the Tarwood run ;
While Rival's portrait, on the wall,
Shall oft to memory recall
The gallant fox, the burning fcent,
The leaps they leapt, the pace they went ;
How Wbimfey led the pack at firft,
When Reynard from the woodfide burft ;
How Pamela, a puppy hound,
Firft feiz'd him, ftruggling on the ground ;
How Prudence (hunn'd the taint of hare,
Taught young in life to have a care ;
How Alderman, a foxhound ftaunch,
Worked well upon an empty paunch ;
How Squires were, following thee, upfet,
Right honourable Baronet ;
How, as the pack by Lechlade flew,
Where clofe and thick the fences grew,
Three Bitches led the tuneful throng,
76 HUNTING SONGS.
All worthy of a place in fong ;
Old Fairplaft ne'er at fkirting caught,
And Penfive fpeeding quick as thought ;
While Handfome prov'd the adage true,
They handfome are that handfome do !
Then long may courteous Redefdale live !
And oft his pack fuch gallops give !
Should fox again fo ftoutly run,
May I be there and fee the fun !
1845.
A " Meet" at the Hall, and a "Find
in the Wood.
E wind in the fouth, and the firft faint
blufhes
Of morn amid clouds difpers'd,
As a ftream in its ftrength through a floodgate
rufties,
The hounds from their kennel burft.
ii.
The huntfman is up on his favourite bay,
The whips are all aftride,
Leifurely trotting their onward way
To the diftant cover fide.
A "MEET" AND A "FIND." 77
in.
Sweetly the blackbird, and fweetly the thrufh,
Greeting them, feem to fay,
In the chorus that rings from each hawthorn bu(h,
" Good fport to the pack to-day."
IV.
Lads from the village now after them race,
Afking with eager ftiout,
And ruddy with joy at the thoughts of a chace,
u Where do the hounds turn out ?"
v.
Now mafking the flope with its dufky fcreen,
A wood in front appears,
And a Hall high-gabled the glittering fheen
Of its vane-deck'd turret rears.
VI.
The chimney-fhafts, wreathed with fmoke, be-
token
Full many a gueft within,
While words of welcome in honefty fpoken
The heart of each ftranger win.
VII.
A white hand unlatches her cafement bar ;
A murmur of joy refounds :
78 HUNTING SONGS.
They're coming! they're coming! fee, yonder
they are !
They're coming ! the hounds ! the hounds !
VIII.
A cloud, fo it feem'd, might have dropp'd from
the Iky
When the fun was in the weft,
To clothe with a mantle of crimfon dye
The 1 lawn by thofe riders preft.
IX.
Steadily, fteadily, to and fro,
Old hunters pace the ground ;
Heads high in air the young ones throw,
Pawing and plunging round.
x.
See ! to unkennel a noifier pack,
The fchool-gate open flung,
By the defk-weary pedant, whofe heart leaps back
To the day when himfelf was young.
XI.
Dreft in the pride of her Sunday array,
The hufwife ftands aloof,
Timidly plucking her child away
From the lunge of uplifted hoof.
A "MEET" AND A "FIND." 79
XII.
Curb'd for thathand whichthe cafementunbarr'd,
To the porch is a palfrey led,
The trim gravel court by the prancing fcarr'd
Of his proud and impatient tread ;
XIII.
A fair-hair'd youth to the portal flew,
And flood by her bridle-rein \
He lifts her light foot to the ftirrup-ftioe,
And they follow the hunting-train.
XIV.
His faddle-bow hung with a filver horn,
All eyes on the mafter gaze,
Lord of the hunting-field ! monarch, this morn,
Of all that he furveys !
xv.
The Huntfman has drunk to the health of the
Squire
From the depth of the leathern jack,
And lifting his cap, as the gentry admire
His well-condition'd pack,
XVI.
He fpeeds, with fure hope, to the cover hard by
Streaking the greenwood now,
Red coats bright with the berries vie
That hang on the holly bough.
8o HUNTING SONGS.
XVII.
Hark ! from the cover a fox halloo'd ;
The hounds to the open fly ,
Horfes and men, as they crafh through the wood,
Made mad by the merry cry.
XVIII.
Fainter and fainter in diftance died
The tumult of the chace ;
Till filent as death was the green hill-fide,
The Hall a deferted place.
XIX.
I follow them not; the good fox they found
Sped many a mile away ;
That run was the talk of the country round
For many an after day.
xx.
The brufh by that youth who had ridden hard,
Brought home in the twilight hour,
A gift for the hand which the cafement unbarr'd,
Was hung in the maiden's bower.
8i
Song.
i.
STAGS in the foreft lie, hares in the valley-o!
Web-footed otters are fpear'd in the lochs ;
Beafts of the chace that are not worth a Tally-ho !
All are furpafs'd by the gorfe-cover fox !
Fifhing, though pleafant,
I fing not at prefent,
Nor (hooting the pheafant,
Nor fighting of cocks ;
Song fhall declare a way
How to drive care away,
Pain and defpair away,
Hunting the fox !
ii.
Bulls in gay Seville are led forth to (laughter, nor
Dames, in high rapture, the fpe&acle (hocks ;
Brighter in Britain the charms of each daughter,
nor
Dreads the bright charmer to follow the fox.
Spain may delight in
A fport fo exciting ;
Whilft '(lead of bull-fighting
We fatten the ox ;
Song (hall declare a way, &c.
G
82 HUNTING SONGS.
in.
England's green paftures are graz'd in fecurity,
Thanks to the Saxon who car'd for our flocks !
He who referving the fport for futurity,
Sweeping our wolves away left us the fox.
When joviality
Chafes formality,
When hofpitality
Cellars unlocks ;
Song fhall declare a way
How to drive care away,
Pain and defpair away,
Hunting the fox !
Sport in the Highlands.
WRITTEN AT TOLLY HOUSE IN ROSS-SHIRE.
UP in the morning ! the river runs merrily,
Clouds are above and the breezes blow
cool,
Tie the choice fly now, and cafting it warily,
Fifh the dark ripple that curls o'er the pool ;
SPORT IN THE HIGHLANDS. 83
Steadily play with him,
On through the fpray with him,
Gaff, and away with -him
On to the fhore !
Paftime at Tolly now,
Oh ! it is jolly now,
Sad melancholy now
Haunts us no more !
n.
Up in the morning ! young birds in full feather
now,
Brood above brood on the mountain fide lie ;
Setters well broken are ranging the heather now,
Bird after bird taking wing but to die !
Home then to number
The groufe that encumber
Our gillies, where flumber
To toil gives relief.
Paftime at Tolly now,
Oh ! it is jolly now,
No melancholy now,
Sorrow, or grief.
m.
Up ! up ! at peep-o-day, clad for a tuffle now !
Keen eyes have mark'd the wild hart on the
hill;
84 HUNTING SONGS.
Toil for the ftalker ! wind, fmew and mufcle,
now
All will be needed, ere tefting his fkill !
Gillies now frolicking,
Roaring and rollicking,
Hey ! for a grollocking,
Rip up the deer,
Paftime at Tolly now,
Oh ! it is jolly now ?
No melancholy now
Haunteth us here.
IV.
Up ! up ! at peep-o-day ; what may your pleafure
be?
Black-cock or ptarmigan, roebuck or hare ?
Bright with delight let each moment of leifure be,
Left in the lowlands, a fig for dull care !
Wood, ftream, and heather now,
Yielding together now,
Sport for all weather now,
Up in the morn !
Paftime at Tolly now,
Oh ! it is jolly now,
Sad melancholy, now
Laugh her to fcorn !
1845.
" Importation of Vermin"
" A STEAM fhip arrived yefterday from Boulogne with a
cage of live foxes, configned to order." Daily Ne f ws 9
Feb. ift, 1848, at which time there was much talk of the
poflibility of a French invafion.
c< T MPORTED Vermin:" fay, thoufcribbler,
when
Thofe fiercer vermin on our coaft alight,
Who bark with drumftick and with bayonet bite,
As daily threat thy brethren of the pen ;
When England fummons her true-hearted men,
(Whether invader to the chace invite
With foes or foxes, putting both to flight,)
Say, of thefe twain which beft will ferve her then.
The joyous hunter, he who cheers the pack,
His fleet fteed urging over vale and hill,
Who fhuns no hardfhip and who knows no fear,
Or he, who bending o'er the defk his back,
In gas-lit office drives the flippant quill,
And talks of "vermin imports " with a fneer?
86
Bowmeeting Song.
ARLEY HALL, SEPTEMBER 4, 1851.
THE tent is pitch'd, the target rear'd, the
ground is meafured out,
For the weak arm fixty paces, and one hundred
for the ftout !
Come, gather ye together then, the youthful and
the fair,
And poet's lay, to future day, the vi&or (hall
declare !
ii.
Let bufy fingers lay afide the needle and the thread,
To prick the golden canvas with a pointed arrow-
head ;
Ye fportfmen quit the ftubble, quit, ye fifhermen,
the ftream,
Fame and glory ftand before you, brilliant eyes
around you beam.
in.
All honour to the long-bow which many a battle
won,
Ere powder blaz'd and bullet flew, from arquebus
or gun ;
EOWMEETING SONG. 87
All honour to the long-bow, which merry men of
yore,
With hound and horn at early morn, in greenwood
foreft bore.
IV.
O ! famous is the archer's fport, 'twas honour'd
long ago,
The God of Love, the God of Wit, bore both of
them a bow;
Love laughs to-day in beauty's eye and blufhes on
her cheek,
And wit is heard in every word, that merry
archers fpeak;
v.
The archer's heart, though, like his bow, a tough
and fturdy thing,
Is pliant ftill and yielding, when affe&ion pulls
the firing ;
All his words and all his a&ions are like arrows,
pointed well
To hit that golden centre, where true love and
friendfhip dwell.
VI.
They tell us in that outline which the lips of
beauty (how,
How Cupid found a model for his heart-fubduing
bow;
88 HUNTING SONGS.
The arrows in his quiver are the glances from her
eye,
A feather from love's wing it is, that makes the
arrow fly !
Farmer Dobbin.
A DAY Wl' THE CHESHUR FOX DUGS.
I.
mon, it's welly milkin toim, where
ever 'aft 'ee bin ?
Thear's dutch upo' thoi coat, oi fee, and blood
.upo' thoi chin;"
" Oiv bin to fee the gentlefolk o' Chefliur roid a
run;
Owd wench ! oiv been a hunting, an oiv feen
fome rattling fun.
n.
" Th' owd mare was i' the fmithy when the
huntfman, he trots through,
Black Bill agate o' ammering the laft nail in her
fhoe ;
The cuvver laid fo wheam loik, an fo jovial foin
the day,
Says I, c Owd mare, we'll tak a fling and fee 'em
go away.'
FARMER DOBBIN. 89
in.
" When up, an oi'd got fhut ov aw the hackney
pads an traps,
Orfe dealers an orfe jockey lads, and fuch loik
fwaggering chaps.
Then what a power o' gentlefolk did I fet oies
upon !
A reining in their hunters, aw blood orfes every
one !
IV.
" They'd aw got bookfldn leathers on, a fitten
'em fo toight,
As roind an plump as turmits be, an juft about
as whoit ;
Their fpurs wor maid o' filler, and their buttons
maid o' brafs,
Their coats wor red as carrots an their collurs
green as grafs.
v.
" A varment looking gemman on a woiry tit I
feed,
An another clofe befoid him, fitting noble on his
fteed;
They ca* them both owd codgers, but as frefh as
paint they look,
John Glegg, Efquoir, o' Withington, an bowd
Sir Richard Brooke.
9 o HUNTING SONGS.
VI.
" I feed Squoir Geffrey Shakerley, the beft un o'
that breed,
His fmoiling feace tould plainly how the fport wi'
him agreed ;
I feed the 'Arl ov Grofvenor, a loikly lad to roid,
I feed a foight worth aw the reft, his farencly
young broid.
VII.
" Zur Umferry de Trafford an the Squoir ov
Arley Haw,
His pocket full o' rigmarole, a rhoiming on 'em
aw ,
Two Members for the Cointy, both aloik ca'd
Egerton ;
Squoir Henry Brooks and Tummus Brooks,
they'd aw green collurs on.
VIII.
" Eh ! what a mon be Dixon John, ov Aftle
Haw, Efquoir,
You wudna foind, and meafure him, his marrow
in the fhoir ;
Squoir Wilbraham o' the Foreft, death and danger
he defoies,
When his coat be toightly button'd up, and fhut
be both his oies.
FARMER DOBBIN. 91
IX.
" The Honerable Lazzles, who from forrin parts
be cum,
An a chip of owd Lord Delamere, the Honerable
Turn ;
Squoir Fox an Booth an Worthington, Squoir
Mafley an Squoir Harne,
An many more big fportfmen, but their neames
I didna larn.
x.
" I feed that great commander in the faddle,
Captain Whoit,
An the pack as thrung'd about him was indeed a
gradely foight ;
The dugs look'd foin as fatin, an himfel look'd
hard as nails,
An he giv the fwells a caution not to roid upo'
their tails.
XI.
" Says he, * Young men o' Monchefter an
Livverpoo, cum near,
Oiv juft a word, a warning word, to whifper in
your ear,
When, ftarting from the cuvver foid, ye fee bowd
Reynard burft,
We canna 'ave no 'unting if the gemmen go it
firft.'
92 HUNTING SONGS.
XII.
" Tom Ranee has got a Tingle oie, wurth many
another's two,
He held his cap abuv his yed to fhow he'd had a
view;
Tom's voice was loik th* owd raven's when he
fkroik'd out c Tally-ho ! '
For when the fox had feen Tom's feace he thoght
it toim to go.
XIII.
u Ey moy ! a pratty j ingle then went ringin through
the fkoy,
Furft Victory, then Villager begun the merry
croy,
Then every maith was open from the oud'un to
the pup,
An aw the pack together took the fwellin chorus
up.
XIV.
" Eh moy ! a pratty fkouver then was kick'd up
in the vale,
They fkim'd acrofs the running brook, theytopp'd
the poft an rail,
They didna flop for razzur cop, but play'd at
touch an go,
An them as mifs'd a footin there lay doubled up
below.
FARMER DOBBIN. 93
xv.
" I feed the 'ounds a crofling Farmer Flareup's
boundary loin,
Whofe daughter plays the peany an drinks whoit
flierry woin,
Gowd rings upon her ringer and filk ftockings on
her feet ;
Says I, c it won't do him no harm to roid acrofs
his wheat.'
XVI.
" So, toightly houdin on by'th yed, I hits th'owd
mare a whop,
Hoo plumps into the middle o' the wheatfield neck
an crop ;
Andwhenhoofloinder'douton it I catch'd another
fpin,
An, miflis, that's the cagion o' the blood upo' my
chin.
XVII.
" I never ofs'd another lep, but kep the lane, an
then
In twenty minutes' toim about they turn'd toart
me agen ;
The fox was foinly daggled, an the tits aw out
o' breath,
When they kilt him in the open, an owd Dobbin
feed the death.
94 HUNTING SONGS.
XVIII.
u Loik dangling of a babby, then the Huntfman
hove him up,
The dugs a bayin roind him, while the gemman
croid, c Whoo-hup ! '
As doefome cawves lick fleetings out o' th' piggin
in the fhed,
They worried every inch of him, aw but his tail
an yed.
XIX.
" Now, miflis, fin the markets be a doing moderate
well,
Oiv welly maid my moind up juft to buoy a nag
myfel ;
For to keep a farmer's fpirits up 'gen things be
gettin low,
Theer's nothin loik Fox-huntin and a rattling
Tally-ho ! "
1853-
The Blooming Evergreen.
i.
ERE the adventurers, nicknamed Plantagenet,
Buckled the helm on, their foes to difmay,
They pluck'd a broom-fprig which they wore as
a badge in it,
Meaning thereby they would fweep them away.
THE BLOOMING EVERGREEN. 95
Long the genifta (hall flourifh in ftory,
Green as the laurels their chivalry won ;
As the broom-fprig excited thofe heroes to glory,
May the gorfe-plant encourage our foxes to
run.
ii.
Held by Diana in due eftimation,
Bedeck with a gorfe-flower the goddefs's fhrine ;
Throughout the wide range of this blooming
creation,
It has but one rival, and that one the vine.
Pluck me then, Bacchus, a clufter and, fqueezing
it,
Pour the red juice till the goblet o'erflows ;
Then in the joy of my heart, will I, feizing it,
Drink to the land where this Evergreen grows.
Chejhire Jumpers.
i.
IASK'D in much amazement, as I took my
morning ride,
" What means this monfter meeting, that collects
at High way fide ?
Who are ye ? and what ftrange event this gather-
ing crowd excites ?
Are ye fcarlet men of Babylon, or mounted Mor-
monites ? "
96 HUNTING SONGS.
n.
A bearded man on horfeback anfwered blandly
with a fmile,
" Good Sir, no Canters are we, though we canter
many a mile ;
Nor will you find a Ranter here amongft our
merry crew,
Though if you feek a Roarer, there may chance
be one or two.
in.
" With Shakers and with Quakers no connexion
Sir, have we ;
We are not Plymouth Brothers, Chefliire Jumpers
though we be ;
*Tis mine between two champions bold to judge,
if judge I can,
And fettle which, o'er hedge and ditch, will prove
the better man.
IV.
" Mark well thefe two conditions, he who falls
upon the field,
Or he whofe horfe refufes twice, the vi&ory muft
yield."
As thus he fpake he ftrok'd his beard, and bade
the champions go ;
His beard was black as charcoal, but their faces
white as fnow.
CHESHIRE JUMPERS. 97
v.
The ladies wave their kerchiefs as the rival
jumpers ftart,
A fmile of fuch encouragement might nerve the
fainteft heart;
The crowd that follow' d after with good wifhes
cheer'd them on,
Some cried, " Stick to it, Thomas ; " others
fhouted, Go it, John!"
VI.
Awake to competition, and alive to any game,
From Manchefter and Liverpool the fpeculators
came ;
They calculated nicely every chance of lofs or
gain;
Some ftak'd their cafh on cotton, fome preferr'd
the fugar-cane.
VII.
Bold Thomas took precedence, as a proper man
to lead,
And ftraightway at a hedgerow cop he drove his
gallant fteed ;
'He's off he's on he's over is bold Thomas in
his feat ?
Yes, the rider's in his faddle, and the horfe is on
his feet !
H
98 HUNTING SONGS.
VIII.
Make way for John ! the Leicefter Don ! John
clear' d it far and wide.
And fcornfully he fmil'd on it when landed t'other
fide;
The prelude thus accomplifli'd without lofs of
life or limb,
John's backers, much embolden'd, offer two to
one on him.
IX.
Now John led off; the choice again was fix'd
upon a cop,
A rotten ditch in front of it, a rail upon the top;
While {hours of" Bono Johnny!" to the echoing
hills were fent,
He wink'd his eye, and at it, and right over it he
went.
x.
Hold him lightly, Thomas, lightly, give him
freedom ere he bound,
Why fhape your courfe with fo much force, to
run yourfelf aground ?
Thus againft a Ruffian rampart goes a Britifh
cannon ball :
WereThomas at Sebaftopol, how fpeedily'twould
fall
CHESHIRE JUMPERS. 99
XI.
Would you gain that proud pre-eminence on
which your rival (lands,
Upraife your voice, uproufe your horfe, but flacken
both your hands ;
'Tis vain, 'tis vain, his fteed again ftands planted
in the ditch,
The game is o'er, he tries no more, who makes a
fecond hitch.
XII.
Thus, unlike the wars of Lancafter and York,
in days of yore,
The Chefter ftrife with Leicefter unexpectedly
was o'er ;
We elfe had learnt which method beft infures us
from a fall,
The Chefter on-and-off ftep, or the Leicefter,
clearing all ?
XIII.
Whether breeches white, or breeches brown, the
more adhefive be,
And which the more effeHve fpur, Champagne
or Eau-de-vie ?
Thefe, alas ! and other problems which their pro-
grefs had reveal'd,
Remain unfettled queftions for the future hunting
field.
ioo HUNTING SONGS.
XIV.
One leflbn learn, young ladies all, who came to
fee the fhow,
Remember, in the race of life, once only to fay
"No;"
This moral, for your warning, to my ditty I
attach,
May ye ne'er by two refufals altogether lofe a
match !
1854.
Tarporley Hunt Song.
i.
THE Eagle won Jupiter's favour,
The Sparrow to Venus was dear,
The Owl of Minerva, though graver,
We want not its gravity here ;
The Swallow flies faft, but remember
The Swallow with Summer is gone,
What bird is there left in November
To rival the Tarporley Swan ?
ii.
Though fcarlet in colour our clothing,
Our collars though green in their hue,
The red cap of liberty loathing,
Each man is at heart a True Blue;
TARPORLET HUNT SONG. IQI
Through life 'tis our fworn resolution,
To flick to the pig-fkin and throne ;
We are all for a good conftitution,
Each man taking care of his own.
in.
Though the Sailor, who rides on the ocean.
With cheers may encounter the foe ;
Wind and fleam, what are they to horfe motion r
Sea cheers, to a land Tally ho ?
The canvas, the fcrew, and the paddle
The fpeed of a thorough-bred lack,
When faft in the fox-hunting faddle,
We gallop aftern of the pack.
IV.
Quaefitum, that ftandard of merit,
Where each his true level may know,
Checks pride in the haughty of fpirit,
Emboldens the timid and flow ;
The liquor that fparkles before us,
The dumb when they drink it can fpeak,
While the deaf in the roar of our chorus
A cure for their malady feek.
v.
Forget not that other Red Jacket,
Turn'd up with green laurel and bay !
The tri-colour'd banners that back it !
The might of their mingled array !
62 HUNTING SONGS.
Forget not the deeds that unite 'em
As comrades, though rivals in fame ;
But fill to the brim that quaefitum
Which Friendfhip and Chivalry claim.
1855.
A Remonftrance on Lord Stanley's Suggeflion
that the Seffion of Parliament Jhould be
held during the Winter Months.
JOY ! when November bids our fport begin,
When ringing echoes through the vale re-
found,
When light of heart we to the faddle bound,
And health and pleafure from the paftime win.
Thefe muft I barter for the Senate's din ?
Forego the mufic of the tuneful hound
For midnight rant in adverfe clamour drown'd ?
Lay by the whip to be myfelf whipp'd in ?
Debaters ! liften, while the Chace propounds
Her precepts words too many work delay ;
Your babblers draft, as we our tonguey hounds ,
Rate without mercy thofe who riot run ;
Let thofe fpeak only who have aught to fay,
Speak to the point, and flop when they have
done.
Highway fide.
A FAVOURITE FIXTURE DURING THE
CHESHIRE DIFFICULTY.
I.
RARE luck for the Chefhire, warn'd out
from the field,
That the Highway fuch endlefs diverfion can
yield ;
That the Huntfman can ftill with no covers to
draw,
Blow his horn on the road without breaking the
law.
ii.
'Twixt highways and byeways ftill ringing the
change,
From gravel and fand to Me Adam they range ;
When quite on the pave their gallop reftrain,
And a jogtrot enjoy down a hard Chefhire lane.
in.
Steeds good in dirt, let the feather-weights urge
Slapdafh through the mud that encumbers the
verge,
104 HUNTING SONGS.
Let heavy ones follow the track of the 'Bus,
Shouting, Ibis in medio tutijfimus.
IV.
They may jump on and off o'er the broken ftone
heap,
In triangular fenders find timber to leap,
The towing path too may afford them a run
Juft to keep the game going and vary the fun.
v.
No alarm the moft timid old gentleman feels,
Babes may perambulate, hunting on wheels ;
Dyfpepfy and gout the amufement may (hare,
So go it, ye cripples ! and take a Bath chair.
VI.
The ufe of the mileftone, now coaching is done,
Is to meafure exactly the length of a run ;
While each tap on the road they alternately try,
Till Tom fees two double with only one eye.
VII.
With fuch fport has this mud-larking lately
fupplied 'em,
The Huntfman has call'd his crack horfe
Rodum-Sidum,
HIGHWAYSIDE. 105
Who dare fay thefe hounds have had nothing to do,
Highwayfide for their fixture the whole feafon
through ?
1856.
Count Warnoff.
i.
WHEN the war with our Mufcovite foemen
was o'er,
Then the Offs and the Koffs came to vifit o\ir
fhore ;
Their hard and ftern features your heart would
appal,
But the face of Count Warnoffwas fterneft of all ;
A terrible man was Count WarnofF !
As cold as the fnow
That envelopes MoCcow
Was the heart of this horrid Count WarnofF !
ii.
Woe ! woe ! to the fport of the fox-hunting
Squire
When the Count fet his foot in this peaceable
(hire!
So clean his own hands, his own morals fo ftrict,
A hole in each Redcoat he prefently pick'd ;
io6 HUNTING SONGS.
Such a virtuous man was Count Warnoff;
Without fpeck of dirt
You muft ride with clean fkirt
If the wrath you'd avert of Count Warnoff!
in.
The Count could not tolerate foible or folly,
He never made love, and he never got jolly ;
He vow'd that fox-hunting he'd have at no price
Unlefs horfes and men were alike free from
vice ;
Such a virtuous man was Count Warnoff !
We muft all be good boys
Or farewell to the joys
Of the chace, if we nettle Count WarnofF!
IV.
Low whifper'd the huntfman (left mifchief befall
him),
" I don't like the look of that Count What-d'ye-
callhim?"
Tom wink'd his blind eye as he lifted his cap,
" He's a rum 'un, fir, ain't he, that Mufcovy
chap?"
Such a terrible bugbear was Warnoff!
Not a brufli, nor a pad
In the {hire could be had,
Such a terrible bugbear was Warnoff!
COUNT WARNOFF. 107
v.
He lock'd all the gates and he wir'd all the gaps,
And the woods were all planted with fpikes and
fteel traps ;
No more the earth-ftoppers were dragg'd their
warm beds off.
The nags in the ftable flood eating their heads
off;
Such a terrible man was Count Warnoff !
Little children grew pale
As their nurfe told the tale
Of this terrible ogre. Count Warnoff!
VI.
Cheer up, my good fellows, Count Warnoff is
gone !
Gone back to the banks of the Volga and Don ;
He may warn us, and welcome, from off his own
fnow,
From the land where no fox-hunter wifhes to go ;
But to bother our pack
May he never come back
To this peaceable county, Count Warnoff!
1857.
1 66
Le Gros-Veneur.
SUNG AT THE TARPORLEY HUNT MEETING,
NOVEMBER, 1858.
I.
A MIGHTY great hunter in deed and in name
*L\. To our fhire long ago with the Conqueror
came ;
A hunting he went with his bugle and bow,
And he fhouted in Normandy-French " Tally-
Ho!"
The man we now place at the head of our Chace
Can his pedigree trace from Le Gros-Veneur !
II.
'Tis a maxim by fox-hunters well underftood,
That in horfes and hounds there is nothing like
blood ;
So the chief who the fame of our kennel maintains
Should be born with the pureft of blood in liis
veins !
The man we now place at the head of our Chace
Can his pedigree trace from Le Gros-Veneur !
III.
Old and young with delight (hall the Grof-
Veneur greet,
The field once again in good fellowfhip meet,
LE GROS-VENEUR. 109
The {hire with one voice fhall re-echo our choice,
And again the old paftime all Chefhire rejoice !
May the fport we enfure many feafons endure ,
And the Chief of our Chace be Le Gros-Veneur!
IV.
Though no more, as of yore, a long-bow at his
back,
Now a Gros-Veneur guides us and governs our
pack ;
Again let each earth-ftopper rife from his bed,
This year they fhall all be well fee'd and well fed.
May the fport we enfure many feafons endure ,
And the Chief of our Chace be Le Gros-Veneur!
v.
Let Geoffrey with fmiles and with {hillings reftore
Good humour when houfewives their poultry
deplore,
Well pleas'd, for each goofe on which Reynard
has prey'd
To find in their pockets a golden egg laid !
May the fport we enfure many feafons endure^
And the Chief of our Chace be Le Gros-Veneur!
VI.
Should our Chief with the toil of the fenate grow
pale,
The elixir of life is a ride o'er the vale ;
no HUNTING SONGS.
There, of health, fays the fong, he fhall gain a new
ftock
" Till his pulfe beats the feconds as true as a
clock."
May the fport we enfure many feafons endure y
And the Chief of our Chace be Le Gros-Veneur!
VII.
I defy Norman-dy now to fend a Chafleur
Who can ride alongfide of our own Gros-Veneur !
And, couching my lance, I will challenge all
France
To outvie the bright eye of the LADY CONSTANCE!
Long, long) may Jhe grace with her pre fence
our Okace^
The Bride and the Pride of Le Gros-Veneur /
The Keeper.
i.
RUFUS KNOX, his lordfhip's keeper, is a
formidable chap,
So at leaft think all who liften to his fwagger at
the tap ;
Ain't he up to poachers ? ain't he down upon 'em
too?
This very night he'd face and fight a dozen of
the crew.
THE KEEPER. in
ii.
With the Squire who hunts the country he is ever
in difgrace,
For " Vulpicide " is written in red letters on his
face ;
His oath that in one cover he a brace of foxes
faw,
Is the never-failing prelude that foretokens a
blank draw.
in.
The moufing owl he fpares not, flitting through
the twilight dim,
The beak it wears, it is, he fwears, too hook'd a
one for him ;
In every woodland fongfter he fufpe&s a fecret
foe,
His ear no mufic toucheth, fave the roofting
pheafant's crow.
IV.
His ftoppers and his beaters, for the battue day
array'd,
Behold him in his glory at the head of the brigade ;
That day on which a twelvemonth's toil trium-
phantly is crown'd,
That day to him the pivot upon which the year
turns round.
ii2 HUNTING SONGS.
v.
There is a fpot where birds are (hot by fifties as
they fly,
If envious of that ftation you muft tip him on the
%;
Confpicuous on the (laughter card if foremoft you
would be,
That place like other places muft be purchas'd
with a fee.
A Railway Accident with the Chejhire.
FEBRUARY 5TH, 1859.
BY the fide of Poole cover laft Saturday flood
A hundred good horfes, both cocktail and
blood ;
Nor long flood they idle, three deep in array,
Ere Reynard by Edwards was hollo'd away.
n.
Away ! over meadow, away ! over plough,
Away ! down the dingle, away ! up the brow !
" If you like not that fence, fir, get out of the
way,
If one minute you lofe you may lofe the whole
day."
A RAILWAY ACCIDENT. 113
in.
Away ! through the evergreens, laurel and box,
They may fcreen a cock-robin but not a run fox ;
As he pafs'd the henrooft at the Rookery Hall,
" Excufe me," faid pug, "I have no time to call."
IV.
The rail to our left and the river in front
Into two rival parties now fever'd the hunt ;
I will tell by-and-by which were right and which
wrong,
Meanwhile let us follow the fox with our fong.
v.
Away ! to the Weaver, whofe banks are foft fand,
" Look out, boys, ahead, there's a horfe-bridge
at hand."
One by one the frail plank we crofs'd cautioufly
o'er,
I had time juft to count that we number'd a fcore.
VI.
Though faft fox and hounds, there were men, by
my troth,
Whofe ambition it was to go fafter than both ;
If that grey in the fkurry efcap'd a difafter,
Little thanks the good animal ow'd to its mafter.
i
ii4 HUNTING SONGS.
VII.
Now Hornby went crafliing through bullfinch
and rail
With Brancker befide him on Murray's rat tail;
Two green collars only were feen in this flight,
Squire Warburton one, and the other John
White.
VIII.
Where was Mafley, who found us the fox that
we run ?
Where Philip the father ? where Philip the fon ?
Where was Grofvenor our Guide ? where was
bold Shrewfberie ?
We had with us one Earle, how I wifti we'd
had three !
IX.
Where Talbot? where Lyon ? though failing away
They were both fadly out of their bearings that
day;
Where Lafcelles, De Traffbrd, Brooke, Corbet
and Court?
They muft take return tickets if bent upon fport.
x.
Sailors, railers and tailors ! what can you now do r
If you hope to nick in, the next ftation is Crewe ;
A RAILWAY ACCIDENT. 115
Second-clafs well difpers'd, it was only clafs firft
Which, efcaping the boiler, came in for the burft !
XI.
Away ! with red rowel, away ! with flack rein
For twenty-five minutes to Wiftafton Lane,
Where a check gave relief both to rider and horfe,
Where again the fplit field re-united its force.
XII.
From that point we turn'd back and continued
our chace
To the gorfe where we found, but more fober
the pace ;
Reynard, fkirting Poole Hall, trying fand-earth
and drain,
Was at length by the pack, who deferv'd him,
o'erta'en.
XIII.
While they worry their fox a fhort word I would
%,
Of advice to thofe riders who rode the wrong
way,
Who were forc'd to put up with fkim-milk for
their fun,
For the fkurry had fkimm'd off the cream of the
run :
n6 HUNTING SONGS.
XIV.
" As a coverfide hack you may prudently ftick
" To the line of the rail, it is eafy and quick ;
" But when fox and faft hounds on a fkurry are
bent,
" The line you fhould ftick to is that of the fcent."
Tarporley Hunt Song.
i8 59 .
i.
NAMES, honour'd of old, on our Club-book
enrolled,
It were ftiame fhould their fucceflbrs flight 'em,
They who Horace could quote, and who firft of
all wrote
On our Tarporley glafles " Quaefitum ;"
O, famous Quaefitum !
Famous in ftory Quaefitum !
There has pafs'd very nigh a full century by
Since our fathers firft fill'd a Quaefitum.
ii.
Old Bacchus fo jolly, who hates melancholy,
Our founders, how can he requite 'em ?
From the land of the vine let the beft of his wine
Be referv'd to o'erflow the Quaefitum ;
TARPORLET HUNT SONG. 117
O, famous Quaefitum !
Jolly Bacchus, fill up the Quaefitum !
Whether claret or port, it muft be the beft fort,
If it fit be to fill a Quaefitum.
in.
The goblet, methinks, from which Jupiter drinks.
With thunder-cheer ter repetitum,
Since when Juno was gone he turn'd into the
Swan,
Should be chang'd for a cryftal Quaefitum ;
O, famous Quaefitum !
Fit for Olympus, Quaefitum !
Cup-bearer Hebe, how happy would flie be
With ne&ar to fill a Quaefitum.
IV.
Thofe who dar'd with rude eye at Diana to fpy,
She unkennel'd her pack to affright 'em ;
She who fmiles with delight on our banquet to-
night,
Bids us fill to the chace a Quaefitum ;
Fill, fill the Quantum !
To the heart-ftirring chace a Quae-
fitum ;
She who flieds her bright beam upon fountain and
ftream
With her fmile fhall make bright the Quaefitum.
u8 HUNTING SONGS.
v.
One bumper ftill let all fox-hunters fill,
'Tis a toaft that will fondly excite 'em,
Since the brave can alone claim the fair as their
own,
Let us drink to our loves a Quaefitum ;
Fill, fill the Quaefitum !
A glowing o'erflowing Quaefitum !
From Beauty's fweet lip he who kifles would
fip,
With his own muft firft kifs the Quaefitum.
VI.
Again ere I end, all who foxes befriend,
Let a bumper thrice honoured delight 'em,
May the forward and faft ftill be up at the laft,
Give the flow ones another Quaefitum ;
Fill, fill the Quaefitum !
To good fellows all a Quaefitum !
Let him faft be or flow, each fhall prove ere we
g>
An excufe for another Quaefitum.
iiq
A " Burft " in the Ball Week.
JANUARY 19, 1860.
I.
WE had danc'd the night through,
Till the candles burnt blue,
But were all in the faddle next morn ;
Once again with Tom Ranee,
In broad daylight to dance
To the mufic of hollo and horn.
ii.
We were all giddy ftill
With the waltz and quadrille,
When arous'd by the loud " Tallyho ! "
I muft tune my faft rhyme
Up to double-quick time,
For the movement was preftijjimo.
in.
The fox by one hound
Near the Smoker was found
As he wip'd that dog's nofe with his brufh,
" I don't mean to die,"
Said bold Reynard, " not I ;
Nor care I for Edwards one rufh."
J20 HUNTING SONGS.
IV.
With a fox of fuch pluck,
'Twas a piece of rare luck
That no ploughboy to turn him was near ;
That no farmer was there
At the gem'men to fwear,
No tailor to head his career.
v.
Some, to lead off the ball,
Get away firft of all,
Some linger too long at poujfitte ;
Down the middle fome go,
In the deep ditch below,
Thrown out ere they up again get.
VI.
One, pitch'd from his feat,
Was compelPd, with wet feet,
His heels in the gutter to cool ;
While his horfe, in full fwing,
Danc'd a new Highland fling,
He himfelf flood and danc'd a pas feuL
VII.
" Tell me, Edwards," faid one,
When the fkurry was done,
" How long were we running this rig? "
" BURST" IN THE BALL WEEK. 121
" To keep time, indeed, fir,
I little take heed, fir,
When dancing the Tallyho jig."
VIII.
But the time I can tell,
And the fpot I know well,
Where the huntfmari his fox overtook ;
Twenty-five minutes good,
When he reach'd Arley Wood,
Where he died on the banks of the brook.
IX.
I could name the few firft
Who went beft in this burft ;
I could tell how the fteady ones rac'd ;
But fince all were content
With the pace themfelves went,
What matters it where they were plac'd ?
x.
If a live fox fhould run,
As that dead one has done,
O'er this country again, by good chance,
May I have my fleet bay
For a partner that day,
And be juft where I was in the dance.
122
Farmer Newftyle and Farmer Oldftyle.
i.
OOD day," faid Farmer Oldftyle, taking
Newftyle by the arm ;
c< I be cum to look aboit me, wilt 'ee mow me o'er
thy farm?"
Young Newftyle took his wideawake, and lighted
a cigar,
And faid, " Won't I aftonifh you, old-fafhioned
as you are !
II.
" No doubt you have an aneroid ? ere ftarring,
you fhall fee
How truly mine prognofticates what weather
there will be."
" 1 aint got no fuch gimcrack, but I knows
there'll be a flufh
When I fees th' oud ram tak' {belter wi s his tail
agen a bum."
in.
"Allow me, firft, to {how you the analyfis I
keep,
And the compounds to explain of this experi-
mental heap,
NEWSTTLE AND OLD STYLE. 123
Where hydrogen, and nitrogen, and oxygen
abound,
To haften germination and to fertilize the
ground."
IV.
" A pratty foight o' laming you have pil'd up of
a ruck ;
The only name it went by in my feyther's time
was muck ;
I knows not how that tool you calls a nollyfes may
work ;
I turns it, when it's rotten, pretty handy wi ? a
fork."
v.
u A famous pen of Cotfwolds ! Pafs your hand
along the back
Fleeces fit for fluffing the Lord Chancellor's
woolfack !
For premiums e'en Inquifitor would own thefe
wethers are fit ;
If you want to purchafe good 'uns you muft go
to Mr. Garfit.
vi.
"Two bulls firft-rate, of different breeds the
judges all proteft
Both are fo fuper-excellent, they know not which
is beft ;
124 HUNTING SONGS.
Fair, could he fee this Ayrfhire, would with jea-
loufy be ril'd,
That hairy one's a Welfliman, and was bred by
Mr. Wild."
VII.
" Well, well, that little hairy bull he ftianna be
fo bad j
But what be yonder beaft I hear a bellowing like
mad,
A fnortin fire and fmoke out ? be it fome big
Rooiian gun ?
Or be it twenty bullocks fquz together into one ?"
VIII.
" My fleam Fa&otum that, fir, doing all I have
to do
My ploughman, and my reaper, and my jolly
thrafher, too ;
Steam's yet but in its infancy, no mortal man
alive
Can tell to what perfection modern farming will
arrive."
IX.
" Steam, as yet, is but an infant " He had
fcarcely faid the word
When through the tottering farmftead was a loud
explofion heard ;
NEWSTTLE AND OLDSTTLE. 125
The engine dealing death around, deftruction and
difmay ;
Though fteam be but an infant, this indeed
was no child's play.
x.
The women fcream'd like blazes as the blazing
hayrick burn'd,
The fucking pigs were in a crack all into crack-
ling turn'd ;
Grill'd chickens clog the hen-coop, roafted duck-
lings choke the gutter,
And turkeys round the poultry-yard on devil'd
pinions flutter.
XI.
Two feet deep in buttermilk the ftoker's two
feet lie,
The cook, before (he bakes it, finds a finger in
the pie ;
The labourers for their loft legs were looking
round the farm,
They could not lend a hand becaufe they had
not got an arm.
XII.
Oldftyle, all foot from head to foot, lookM like a
big black fheep ;
Newftyle was thrown upon his own experi-
mental heap :
126 HUNTING SONGS.
" That weather-glafs," faid Oldftyle, " canna
be in proper fettle,
Or it might as well a tou'd us there was thunder
in the kettle."
XIII.
"Steam is fo expanfive." " Ay," faid Old-
ftyle, " fo I fee ;
So expanfive, as you call it, that it wunna do for
me ;
According to my notion, that's a beaft that canna
P a 7>
Who champs up for his morning feed a hundred
ton o' hay."
XIV.
Then to himfelf, faid Oldftyle, as he homewards
quickly went,
" I'll tak' no farm where th' do&or's bill be
heavier than the rent ;
I've never in hot water been ; fteam fhanna
fpeed my plough,
I would liefer thrafh my oats out by the fweat of
my own brow.
xv.
u I neether want to fcald my pigs, nor toaft my
cheefe, not I,
Afore the butcher (ticks 'em, or the fa&or comes
to buy ;
NEWSTTLE AND OLDSTTLE. 127
They fhanna catch me here again to rifle my
limbs and loif ;
I've nought at whoam to blow me up, except it
be my woif."
Home with the Hounds ; or, the
Huntfmans Lament.
i.
OVER-RIDDEN! over-ridden!
All along of that the check ;
When the ditch that gemman flid in,
Don't I wifh he'd broke his neck.
I to hunt my hounds am able,
Would the field but play me fair ;
Mobb'd at Smithfield by the rabble,
Who a fox could follow there ?
ii.
Let the tinker ride his kettle,
Let the tailor ride his goofe,
How can hounds to hunting fettle
With the like o' them let loofe ?
What's the ufe on't when he fcrambles
Through a run that butchers tit ?
Butcher'd foxhounds for the (hambles
They be neither fat nor fit.
128 HUNTING SONGS.
in.
What's the ufe o' jockies thumping
Wi' their 'andwhips bits of blood ?
Tits by inftinft fhy of jumping,
For they could not if they would -,
Though the fnob, who cannot guide her,
Mounts the mare as draws his trap ;
'Taint the red coat makes the rider,
Leathers, boots, nor yet the cap.
IV.
They who come their coats to fhow, they
Better were at home in bed ;
What of hounds and hunting know they ?
Nothing elfe but " go ahead ; "
At the Kennel I could train 'em,
If they would but come to fchool,
Two and two in couples chain 'em,
Feed on meal, and keep 'em cool.
v.
Gemmen, gemmen, fhame upon ? em,
Plague my heart out worfe than all,
Worfe than Bowdon mobs at Dunham,
Worfe than cobblers at Poole Hall ;
Spurring at a fence their clippers,
When the hounds are in the rear !
Reg'lar gemmen ! felf and whippers
Tipping reg'lar once a year !
HOME WITH THE HOUNDS. 129
VI.
Well ! foft folder next I'll try on,
Rating only riles a fwell ;
Mifter Brancker ! Mifter Lyon !
Mifter Hornby ! hope you're well ;
'Taint the pack that Tin afraid on,
And I likes to fee you firft,
But when fo much fleam be laid on
Beant you fear'd the copper'll burft ?
VII.
Rantipole^ I fee'd him fprawling
Underneath a horfe's hoof;
Prudence only heerd me calling
Juft in time to keep aloof;
Vulcan lam'd for life ! Old Viftor
Ne'er again will he (how fight ;
Venus, fin that gelding kick'd her,
Aint he fpoilt her beauty quite ?
VIII.
Gentlemen, unto my thinking,
Should behave themfelves as fich ;
'Tik'lar when the fcent is finking,
And the hounds are at a hitch ;
How my temper can I mafter,
Fretted till I fume and foam \
I can only backwards caft, or
Blow my horn and take 'em home.
K
130
On hearing that ff 'The Chejhire" were to
hunt Five Days a Week.
'S luck in odd numbers," fays Rory
O'More,
"Five days," fays fquire Corbet, a good fport
will enfure ; "
So, All-fours out of faftiion, the game is now Fives ,
But who cares what they call it while Fox-hunting
thrives ?
We are all of us Tailors in Turn.
i.
I WILL fing you a fong of a fox-hunting bout,
They fhall tell their own tale who to-day
were thrown out ;
For the fafteft as well as the floweft of men,
Snobs or top-fawyers, alike now and then,
We are all of us tailors in turn.
n.
Says one, " From the cover I ne'er got away,
Old Quidnunc fat quoting The Times on his Grey,
How Lord Derby was wrong, and Lord Aber-
deen right,
And the hounds, ere he finifh'd were clean out
of fight."
We are all of us tailors in turn.
ALL OF US TAILORS IN TURN. 131
in.
Says one, "When we ftarted o'er fallow and
grafs,
I was clofe at the tail of the hounds, but, alas !
We came down to a drain in that black-bottom'd
fen,
had I but been on my brook-jumper, then ! "
We are all of us tailors in turn.
IV.
cc Difmounting," fays one, " at a gate that was
faft,
The crowd, pufliing through, knock '"d me down
as it pafs'd ;
My horfe feized the moment to take his own fling,
Who'll again do, out hunting, a good-natured
thing ! "
We are all of us tailors in turn.
v.
cc Down the lane went I merrily failing along,
Till I found," fays another, " my courfe was all
wrong ;
1 thought that his line toward the breeding-earth
lay,
But he went, I've heard fmce, juft the oppofite
way."
We are all of us tailors in turn.
132 HUNTING SONGS.
VI.
From^the wine-cup o'er night fome were forry
and fick,
Some fkirted, fome cran'd, and fome rode for a
nick ;
Like whales, in the water, fome flounder'd about,
Thrown off and thrown in, they were alfo thrown
out.
We are all of us tailors in turn.
VII.
" You will find in the field a whole ton of loft
{hoes."
A credulous blackfmith, believing the news,
Thought his fortune were made if he walk'd
o'er the ground ;
He loft a day's work, but he ne'er a fhoe found !
We are all of us tailors in turn.
VIII.
What deeds would one hero have done on his
Grey,
Who was nowhere at all on his Cheftnut to-day !
All join in the laugh when a braggart is beat,
And that jeft islov'd beft which is aim'dat conceit.
We are all of us tailors in turn.
ALL OF US T4ILORS IN TURN. 133
IX.
Good fellows there are, unpretending and flow,
Who can ne'er be thrown out, for they ne'er
mean to go ;
But, when the run's over, thefe oftentimes tell
The ftory far better than they who went well.
We are all of us tailors in turn.
x.
How trifling a caufe will oft lofe us a run !
From the find to the finifti how few fee the fun !
A mifchance, it is call'd, when we come to a
halt;
I ne'er heard of one who confefs'd it a fault,
Yet we're all of us tailors in turn.
A Word ere we Start.
BOYS, to the hunting field ! though 'tis No-
vember,
The wind's in the fouth ; but a word ere we
ftart.
Though keenly excited, I bid you remember
That hunting's a fcience, and riding an art.
134 HUNTING SONGS.
ii.
The order of march and the due regulation
That guide us in warfare, we need in the
chace
Huntfman and Whip, each his own proper ftation,
Horfe, hound and fox, each his own proper
place.
in.
The fox takes precedence of all from the cover ;
The horfe is an animal purpofely bred
After the pack to be ridden, not over
Good hounds are not rear'd to be knock'd on
the head.
IV.
Strong be your tackle, and carefully fitted,
Breaft-plate and bridle, girth, ftirrup,and chain;
You will need not two arms, if the mouth be well
bitted,
One hand lightly us'd will fuffice for the rein.
v.
Buckfkin's the only wear fit for the faddle ;
Hats for Hyde Park, but a cap for the chace ;
In tops of black leather let fifhermen paddle,
The calves of a fox-hunter white ones incafe.
A WORD ERE WE START. 135
VI.
If your horfe be well bred and in blooming con-
dition,
Both up to the country and up to your weight,
O, then give the reins to your youthful ambition,
Sit down in your faddle and keep his head
ftraight !
VII.
Paftime for princes ! prime fport of our nation !
Strength in their finew and bloom on their
cheek ;
Health to the old, to the young recreation ;
All for enjoyment the hunting-field feek.
VIII.
Eager and emulous only, not fpiteful ;
Grudging no friend, though ourfelves he may
beat;
Juft enough danger to make fport delightful !
Toil juft fufficient to make flumber fweet !
Hard-riding Dick.
i.
T^ROM the cradle his name has been " Hard-
JL riding Dick,"
Since the time when cock-horfe he beftraddled
a ftick;
136 HUNTING SONGS.
Since the time when, unbreech'd, without faddle
or rein,
He kick'd the old donkey along the green lane.
ii.
Dick, wafting no time o'er the claflical page,
Spent his youth in the ftable without any wage ;
The life of poor Dick, when he enter'd his teens,
Was to deep in the hay-loft and breakfaft on beans.
in.
Promoted at length, Dick's adventures began:
A ftripling on foot, but when mounted a man ;
Capp'd, booted, and fpurr'd, his young foul was
on fire,
The day he was dubb'd " Second Whip " to the
Squire.
IV.
See, how Dick, like a dart, {hoots a-head of the
pack !
How he ftops, turns, and twifts, rates, and rattles
them back !
The laggard exciting, controlling the rafh,
He can comb down a hair with the point of his
lam.
v.
O ! (how me that country which Dick cannot
crofs
Be it open or wood, be it upland or mofs,
HARD-RIDING DICK. 137
Through the fog or the funfhine, the calm or the
fquall,
By day-light or ftar-light, or no light at all !
VI.
Like a fwallowcan Dick o'er the water-flood (kirn,
And Dick, like a duck, in the faddle can fwim ;
Up the fteep mountain-fide like a cat he can crawl,
He can fqueeze like a moufe through a hole in
the wall !
VII.
He can tame the wild young one, infpirit the old,
The reftive, the runaway, handle and hold ;
Sharp fteel or foft-folder, which e'er does the trick,
It makes little matter to Hard-riding Dick.
VIII.
Bid the chief from the Defert bring hither his
mare,
To ride o'er the plain againft Dick if he dare ;
Bring Coflack or Mexican, Spaniard or Gaul,
There's a Dick in our village will ride round them
all!
IX.
A whip is Dick's fceptre, a faddle Dick's throne,
And a horfe is the kingdom he rules as his own ;
While grafping ambition encircles the earth,
The dominions of Dick are enclofed in a girth.
138 HUNTING SONGS.
x.
Three ribs hath he broken, two legs, and one arm,
But there hangs, it is faid, round his neck a life-
charm ;
Still long odds are offer'd that Dick, when hedrops,
Will die, as he lived, in his breeches and tops.
Thompfotfs Trip to Epfom.
i.
KIND friends! delighted Thompfon ! on the
night he came to town
They faid : " If up to Epfom, we will call and
take you down."
Next morn, ere Boots awoke him, there was feen
at Thompfon's door
The coach the ladies fat in and the fatin that they
wore.
ii.
Poor Thompfon's had no breakfaft ! how could he
his bacon fave,
How cut his mutton-chops up when his own he
could not {have ?
Poor Thompfon's had no breakfaft ! " Waiter,
fay we cannot wait;"
With friends fo faft his fate it was to faft upon a
fete !
THOMPSON'S TRIP TO EPSOM. 139
in.
" We're full infide, for empties there's an empty
dicky free,"
Alas ! ere long with Thompfon's heart all dicky
will it be ;
Her beaming eye who tied his veil pierc'd thro'
him like a lance,
Of what avail was fuch a veil to fhield from fuch
a glance ?
IV.
Forgetting foon his breakfaft fpoon he takes a
fpoony turn,
His heart feels hot within him like a heater in
the urn ;
A fudden flip 'twixt cup and lip to Beauty from
Bohea,
His tea no more he mifles, thinks no more of
Mrs. T.
v.
A lottery they needs muft have upon the Derby
day,
Fair fingers cut the tickets, fo of courfe it was fair
play;
My Lord, who draws the favourite, o'erwhelms
them with his thanks,
Poor Thompfon's had no breakfaft ! fo they hand
him all the blanks.
140 HUNTING SONGS.
VI.
Poor Thompfon's had no breakfaft ! it was whif-
per'd in a tone
Which meant, if words a meaning have, " How
hungry we are grown ! "
Poor Thompfon flgh'd as they untied the hamper,
Thompfon's figh,
Say was it for his ladie-love or for the pigeon pie ?
VII.
Poor Thompfon's had no breakfaft ! looking
down he now furveys
The fair infiders filling their infide with mayon-
naife j
For the luncheon ftakes difqualified was Thomp-
fon, they declare,
A ftomach twice as empty as their own would
not be fair.
VIII.
Poor Thompfon's had no breakfaft ! " Super-
excellent this ham."
Poor Thompfon's had no breakfaft ! cc What a
tender bit of lamb."
Poor Thompfon's had no breakfaft ! cc I prefer
the dry champagne."
Poor Thompfon's had no breakfaft ! " May I
trouble you again?"
THOMPSON'S TRIP TO EPSOM. 141
IX.
When done at laft their own repaft poor Thomp-
fon, better late
Than never, got pofTeffion of the hamper and a
plate,
With two reje&ed drumfticlcs on a hollow difh
he drums,
And chirps are heard as dicky-bird picks up the
scatter'd crumbs.
x.
Once more at home fee Thompfon, in his break-
fail parlour chair,
He knew better than to quarrel with his bread
and butter there;
His wife with indignation of his aching ftomach
heard,
Of the heartache which had troubled him he
never faid a word.
A Modern Stable.
i.
T)EHOLD the new ftable his lordfliip has
13 built,
Its walls and its ftalls painted, varnifh'd and
gilt;
H2 HUNTING SONGS.
No prince in his palace, King, Sultan, or Czar,
Was e'er lodg'd in fuch ftate as thefe quadrupeds
are.
ii.
Pitchfork and bucket, chain, buckle and rack,
Burnifh'dup till they fhine like the coats on their
back;
I fcarce know on which moft applaufe to beftow,
On the gildings above or the geldings below.
in.
What I marvell'd at moft, in the front of each
ftall
Why a flab of blue flate fliould be fix'd in the
wall?
Why a horfe (and the query ftill puzzles my
pate)
Like a fchoolboy fhould ftand with his eyes on a
Hate ?
IV.
Muft the heads of our horfes be cramm'd now a-
day
With learning as well as their bellies with hay ?
Muft our yearlings be coach'd till their little go
won,
The trainer has taught them c< to read as they
run."
143
On Reading in the " Times" April
1860, a Critique on the Life
of Ajheton Smith.
THE mighty Hunter taken to his reft,
His cherifli'd fport now points the critic's
jeft,
Pleas'd of a feel: facetioufly to tell
A " meet" their heaven and a froft their hell,
Who blindly follow, clad in coats of pink,
A beaft whofe nature is to run and ftink ;
When view'd, with fhouts of frantic joy they
greet him,
Forbearing ftill, when they have kill'd, to eat him,
His head enflirin'd within a cryftal cafe,
His u brufh," a relic, on their walls they place.
In mad devotion to this beaft unclean,
Encountering " Bullfinches " (whate'er that
mean)
They ride to fall and rife again forthwith,
A fe& whofe great high-prieft was Afheton
Smith.
Let him who laughs our noble fport to fcorn,
Meet me next year at Melton or at Quorn ;
144 HUNTING SONGS.
Let the faft train by which his bolts are fped
Bring down the Thunderer himfelf inftead,
My cover hack (not Stamford owns a finer)
Can canter glibly like a penny-a-liner ;
Free of my ftable let him take the pick,
Not one when mounted but can do the trick ;
Faft as his pen can run, if he can ride,
The foremoft few will find him at their fide ;
His leader left unfinifh'd on the fhelf,
To prove a leading article himfelf!
With clofing daylight, when our paftime ends,
Together dining, we will part good friends ;
And home returning to his gas-lit court.
His mind enlighten'd by a good day's fport,
Of hounds and hunting fome flight knowledge
then
Shall guide the goofe-quill, when he writes again.
Tarporley Swan-Hopping.
NOVEMBER 6TH, 1862.
I.
WHEN a Swan takes to finging they fay fhe
will die,
But our Tarporley Swan proves that legend a lie ;
TARPORLET SWAN-HOPPING. 145
Forahundredyearspaft fhe has fwung at this door,
May fhe fwing there and fing there a thoufand
years more !
II.
Rara avis in terris our Swan though not black,
Though white her own pinions and white her
own back,
Still her flock, in November full- feather 'd, are feen
Refplendent in plumage of fcarlet and green.
in.
Heralds fay fhe is fprung from that White Swan
of yore
Which our Sires at Blore Heath to the battle-
field bore ;
When, hizfitum mentis, loyal and true,
Their fwords Chefhire men for Queen Margaret
drew.
IV.
To and fro in her flight fhe has travers'd the Vale,
She has lov'd on an ocean of claret to fail ;
Whatever takes her fancy fhe thinks it no fin,
So her dancing-days, now file's a hundred, begin.
v.
You have heard in your youth of the Butterfly's
Ball,
How the birds and the beafts fhe invited them all ;
146 HUNTING SONGS.
So the Tarporley Swan, not a whit lefs gallant,
Invites all her friends to a Soiree danfante.
VI.
Left her flock at the Ball fhould themfelves mif-
behave,
The old Swan thus a leture on etiquette gave:
" Though, my fons, o'er the Vale you make light
of a fall,
Beware how you make a falfe ftep at the Ball.
VII.
" You muft all in good feather be dreft for the
night,
Let not the Swan neck-tie be tied over-tight ;
Each his partner may fan with the tip of his wing,
Patent pumps for web feet will be quite the right
thing.
VIII.
" Expand not your pinions, 'twere folly to try,
In vain would their vaftnefs with crinoline vie ;
Let no rude neck outftretch'd o'er the table be
feen,
Nor ftand dabbling your bills in the fupper tureen.
IX.
" When you fail down the middle, or fwim through
a dance,
TARPORLET SWAN-HOPPING. 147
With grace and with ftatelinefs, Swan-like, ad-
vance,
Let your entrance, your exit no waddle difclofe,
But hold all your heads up, and turn out your toes.
x.
"To the counfel convey'd in thefe motherly
words
Give heed, and I truft you will all be good birds ;
I give you my blefling and bid you begone,
So away to the Ball with you, every one."
Killing no Murder.
I KNOW not fearch all England round,
If better Huntfman can be found,
A bolder rider or a neater,
When mounted for the field, than Peter ;
But this I know, there is not one
So bent on blood as Collifon.
Hear now the docStrine he propounds,
All ye who love to follow hounds :
Says he, " Since firft my horn was blown,
This maxim have I made my own ;
Kill if you can with fport ; but ftill
Or with it or without it, kill.
148 HUNTING SONGS.
A feather in my cap to pin,
A frefh one every bru(h I win !
That fox is doom'd who feeks for reft
In gorfe or fpinney when diftreft ;
Though far and faft he may have fped,
He counts for nothing till he's dead.
I hold that Whip not worth his pay,
Who fails to keep him there at bay ;
When round and round the coverfide
The mounted mob, like madmen, ride,
Now crofs him here, now head him there,
While fhouts and clamour rend the air.
Spare him, the gentle folk may fay,
To live and fight another day ;
Upon my coat confpicuous feen,
All know me by my collar green,
I mould myfelf be greener ftill,
Were I to fpare when I could kill ;
Excufe me, gentlemen, I fay
My hounds have had but two to-day.
" When April ends the hunting year,
How then mould I in Bell appear ?
Or how my brother Huntfmen face
If fhort of booking fifty brace ?
There's nothing, I maintain, abfurder
Than to fay that killing's Murder."
1865.
149
On Peter Collifon's late Fall.
1868.
BAD luck betide that treacherous fpot
Where Peter's horfe, though at a trot,
Roll'd over, hurling headlong there
A Huntfman whom we ill could fpare ;
As there he lay and gafp'd for breath,
Unconfcious quite and pale as death,
The clinging hounds around him yell,
And wailing moans their forrow tell.
Let , who over-rides them all,
Take warning by our Huntfman's fall ;
When fuch fhall be that rider's fate
(And his it will be foon or late),
They o'er the downfal of their foe
Will not upraife the voice of woe ;
When proftrate, if the pack fhould greet him
With open mouths, 'twill be to eat him.
ISO
Riding to Hounds.
No inconfiderate raflinefs, or vain appetite
Of falfe encountering formidable things 5
But a true fcience of diftinguifhing
***#*
BEN JONSON.
AS when two dogs in furious combat clofe,
The bone forgotten whence the ftrife arofe,
Some village cur fecures the prize unfeen,
And, while the maftiffs battle, picks it clean ;
So when two horfemen, joftling fide by fide,
Heed not the pack, but at each other ride,
More glorious ftill the loftier fences deem,
And face the brook where wideft flows the ftream;
One breathlefs fteed, when fpurs no more avail,
Rolls o'er the cop, and hitches on the rail ;
One floundering lies to watery ditch confign'd,
While laughing fchool-boy leaves them both
behind,
Pricks on his pony 'till the brufli be won,
And bears away the honours of the run.
Newby Ferry.
i.
THE morning was mild as a morning in
May,
Slingfby on Saltfifh was out for the day ;
NEWET FERRY. 151
Though the Ure was rain-fwollen, the pack,
dafhing in,
Follow'd clofe on the fox they had found at the
Whin.
ii.
They have crofs'd it full cry, but the horfemen
are ftay'd,
The ford is too deep for the boldeft to wade ;
So to Newby they fped, like an army difpers'd,
Hoping each in his heart to be there with the firft.
in.
Lloyd, Robinfon, Orvis, and Slingfby the brave,
Prefiing on to that ferry to find there a grave ;
Little thought the four comrades when, rivals in
pace,
With fuch hafte they fpurr'd on that they rode a
death-race*
IV.
Orvis now cries, in a voice of defpair,
"They're away far ahead, and not one of us there !
Quickly, good ferrymen, haul to the fhore,
Bad luck to your craft if we catch 'em no more ! "
v.
Thus fhouting, old Orvis leapt down to the bank,
152 HUNTING SONGS.
And with Lloyd alongfide led his horfe to the
plank ;
There ftood they, difmounted, their hands on the
rein,
Never more to fet foot in the ftirrup again!
VI.
Eleven good men in the laden boat,
Eleven good fteeds o'er the ferry float ;
Alas ! ere their ferrymen's tafk was done,
Two widows were weeping o'er father and fon !
VII.
What meaneth that fudden and piercing cry
From the horfemen who ftood on the bank hard by?
The fhadow of death feem'd to darken the wave,
And the torrent to paufe as it open'd a grave.
VIII.
Slingfby is finking his ftretch'd arm had clung
To the rein of his horfe as he overboard fprung ;
The barque, overburden'd, bends down onher fide.
Heels o'er, and her freight is engulf 'din the tide.
IX.
In that moment an age feem'd to intervene
Ere Vyner was firft on the furface feen ;
NEW BY FERRT. 153
The plank fcarcely won ere his arm he extends
To reach and to refcue his finking friends.
x.
Whips knotted faft, in the hafte of defpair,
Reach not the doom'd who were drowning there ;
Swimmers undauntedly breafted the wave,
Till themfelves were nigh funk in their efforts to
fave.
XI.
Robinfon (he who could bird-like fkim
O'er fence and o'er fallow) unpra&is'd to fwim,
Hopelefs of aid in this uttermoft need,
Save in the ftrength of his gallant fteed !
XII.
Slowly that horfe from the river's bed,
Still back'd by his rider, uprais'd his head ;
But the noftrils' faint breath and the terror-glaz'd
eye
Tell how vain is all hope with its fury to vie.
XIII.
UnappalPd, who could gaze on the heart-rending
fight?
His rider unmov'd, in the faddle upright,
154 HUNTING SONGS.
Calm for one moment, and then the death fcreani
As down, ftill unfeated, he fank in the ftream !
XIV.
Slingfby meanwhile from the waters uprofe,
Where deepeft and ftrongeft the mid-current
flows ;
Manfully ftemming its onward courfe,
He ftruck for the boat with his failing force.
xv.
Then feebly one arm was uplifted, in vain
Striving to fnatch at the cheftnut's mane ;
For that faithful fteed, through the rolling tide,
Had fwum like a dog to his matter's fide.
XVI.
At length by the ftream he can buffet no more,
Borne, bleeding and pale, to the farther (hore,
There, as the Slingfbys had ofttimes lain,
Lay the laft of that Houfe in his harnefs (lain !
XVII.
Sprung from a knightly and time-honour'd race,
Pride of thy county, and chief of her chace !
Though a ftranger, not lefs is his forrow fincere,
NEWBY FERRY. 155
Who now weeps o'er the clofe of thy gallant
career.
XVIII.
Let Yorkfliire, while England re-echoes her wail,
Bereft of her braveft, record the fad tale,
How Slingfby of Scriven at Newby fell,
In the heat of that chace which he lov'd fo well.
Hunting Song.
i.
the recreations with which mortal man
OF all the r
is bleft,
Go where he will, fox-hunting ffill is pleafanteft
and beft ;
The hunter knows no forrow here, the cup of
life to him,
A bumper bright of frefti delight filPd fparkling
to the brim.
Away, away we go,
With a tally, tally ho,
With a tally, tally, tally, tally, tally, tally-ho !
n.
O ! is it not O ! is it not a fpirit-ftirring found,
156 HUNTING SONGS.
The eager notes from tuneful throats that tell a
fox is found ?
O ! is it not O ! is it not a pleafant fight to fee
The chequer'd pack, tan, white, and black, fly
fcudding o'er the lea ?
Chorus.
in.
How keen their emulation in the buftle of the
burft,
When fide by fide the foremoft ride, each ftrug-
gling to be firft ;
Intent on that fweet mufic which in front delights
their ear,
The fobbing loud of the panting crowd they heed
not in the rear.
Chorus.
IV.
The field to all is open, whether clad in black or
red,
O'er rail and gate the feather-weight may thruft
his thorough-bred ;
While heavier men, well mounted, though not
foremoft in the fray,
If quick to ftart and ftout of heart, need not be
far away.
Chorus.
HUNTING SONG. 157
v.
And fince that joy is incomplete which Beauty
fhuns to fhare,
Or maid or bride, if fkilFd to ride, we fondly
welcome there ;
Where woodland hills our mufic fills and echo
fwells the chorus,
Or when we fly with a fcent breaft high, and a
galloping fox before us.
Chorus.
1868.
Tarporley Song.
1870.
i.
T3 ECALLING the days of old Bluecap and
IV Barry,
Of Bedford and Glofter, George Heron and Sir
Harry,
A bumper to-night the Quaefitum (hall carry,
Which nobody can deny.
II.
Tho' his rivals by Meynell on mutton were fed,
158 HUNTING SONGS.
When the race o'er the Beacon by Bluecap was
led,
A hundred good yards was the winner ahead,
Which nobody can deny.
III.
The gentry of Chefliire, whate'er their degrees,
Stanleys or Egertons, Leycefters or Leghs,
One and all with green ribbons have garter'd
their knees,
Which nobody can deny.
IV.
Their breeches were green and their ftockings
were white,
Tho' oft in queer plight they were tuck'd up at night,
Next morn they were all in their ftirrups upright,
Which nobody can deny.
v.
Over grafs while the youngfters were fkimming
the vale,
Down the pavement away went the old ones full
fail,
Each green collar flapp'd by a powder'd pigtail,
Which nobody can deny.
VI.
When foxes were flyers and gorfe covers few,
Thofe hounds of Sir Harry,where thickeftitgrew,
TARPORLET SONG. 159
How they dafh'd into Huxley and huftled it
through,
Which nobody can deny.
VII.
The fport they began may we ftill carry on,
And we forty good fellows, who meet at the Swan,
To the green collar ftick, tho' our breeches are
gone,
Which nobody can deny.
VIII.
Still, whether clad in fhort garments or long,
With a Cotton to (ing us a fox-hunting fong,
And a Corbet to lead us, we cannot go wrong,
Which nobody can deny.
A Growl from the Squire of Grumbleton.
i.
I WAS born and bred a Tory,
And my prejudice is ftrong,
Young men, bear with me kindly,
If you think my notions wrong.
ii.
I learnt them from my father,
One whofe pride it was to fit,
160 HUNTING SONGS.
Ere the ballot-box was thought of.
By the fide of Billy Pitt.
in.
I love the gabled manfion
By my anceftors uprear'd,
Where the ftranger-gueft is welcome.
And the friend by time endear'd.
IV.
I love the old grey bell-tower,
And its ivy-muffled clock ;
And I love the honeft Parfon
As himfelf he loves his flock.
v.
Frefh youth I feel within me
When a morning fox is found.
And I hear the merry mufic
Through the ringing woods refound.
VI.
And I love, when evening clofes,
And a good day's fport is o'er,
Thrice to pour into the wine-cup
Ruddy port of thirty-four.
VII.
I have told you what I love now
Let me tell you what 1 hate
SQUIRE OF GRUMBLETON. 161
That accurs'd Succeflion Duty
On the heir to my eftate.
VIII.
Old Nelfon to the Frenchman
In a voice of thunder fpoke,
What would Nelfon fay to Gladftone
With his tax on Britifh oak ?
IX.
Hounds I hate which, fliy of ftooping,
Muft be lifted ftill and caft,
Like many a fool who follows,
Far too flafliy and too faft.
x.
Iron engines which have filenc'd
In the barn the threfher's flail ;
Iron wires, a modern makefhift
For the honeft poft and rail.
XI.
Knaves and blacklegs, who have elbow 'd
From the Turf all honeft men,
Blafted names and ruin'd houfes
Fallen ne'er to rife again.
XII.
Cant and unwhipp'd fwindlers
Rant and rivalry of fe&
M
1 62 HUNTING SONGS.
Pride and working wenches
In filk and fatin deck'd.
XIII.
Song from the green bough banifh'd,
The voicelefs woodlands ftill,
The fparkle of the trout ftream
Foul'd and blacken'd by the mill.
XIV.
A Unionift each craftfman,
A poacher every clown,
Brawl and beerhoufe in the Village,
Luft and ginfhop in the Town.
xv.
Though with all thy faults, dear England,
In my heart I love thee ftill,
Thefe are plague-fpots on thy beauty
Which mine eyes with forrow fill.
The Cover/ide Phantom.
i.
ONE morning in November,
As the village clock ftruck ten
Came trooping to the coverfide
A field of hunting men ;
THE GOFERS IDE PHANTOM. 163
'Twas neither Quorn nor Pytchley horn
That fummon'd our array ;
No ; we who met were a homely fet,
In a province far away.
II.
As there we flood, converting,
Much amazement feiz'd the Hunt,
When, fpick and fpan, an unknown man
Rode onwards to the front ;
All whifper'd, gazing wonderftruck,
" Who can the ftranger be ? "
Forfooth they were, that man and mare,
A comely fight to fee.
in.
The mare a faultlefs cheftnut
As was ever ftrapp'd by groom ;
Nor fault could in the man be found,
Nor flaw in his coflume ;
A filk cord loop'd the hunting hat,
The glove's confummate fit
No creafe difturb'd, and burnifh'd bright
Shone ftirrup, chain, and bit.
IV.
The rider's feat was firm and neat
As rider's feat could be ;
The buckfkin white was button 'd tight,
And knotted at the knee ;
1 64 HUNTING SONGS.
Above the boots' jet polifh
Was a top of tender ftain,
Nor brown nor white, but a mixture light,
Of rofe-leaves and champagne.
v.
The heart that waiftcoat buttons up
Muft be a heart of fteel,
As keen as the keeneft rowel
On the fpur that decks his heel ;
We look'd the ftranger over,
And we gravely {hook our heads,
And we felt a fad convi&ion
He would cut us into flireds.
vi.
A glance I ftole from my double fole
To my coat of faded red ;
The fcarlet which had once been there
My countenance o'erfpread ;
I blufli'd with fhame no wonder !
So completely was the fhine
By the man and mare befide me
Taken out of me and mine.
VII.
How his portrait, fketch'd for " Baily,"
Would the fporting world enchant,
By the pen of a Whyte-Melville,
Or the pencil of a Grant !
THE COVERS IDE PHANTOM. 165
An Adonis, fcarlet-coated !
A glorious field Apollo,
May we have pluck and the rare good luck,
When he leads the way, to follow !
VIII.
So intenfe my admiration
(What I thought I dare not fay),
But I felt inclined in my inmoft mind,
To wifli for a blank day,
Left a piece of fuch rare metal.
So elaborately gilt,
Should expofe its polim'd furface
To a fcratch by being fpilt.
IX.
Sad to ttiink, fhould fuch a get-up
By a downfal come to grief;
That a pink of fuch perfection
Should become a crumpled leaf!
Sad to think this bird of Paradife
Should rifk its plumage bright
By encounter with a bullfinch,
Or a mudftain in its flight !
x.
But all that glitters is not gold,
However bright it feem ;
Ere long a fudden change came o'er
The fpirit of my dream ;
166 HUNTING SONGS.
No defeat ourfelves awaited
From the man nor from his mount ;
No ground for the difcomfort
We had felt on his account.
XI.
A fox was found ; the ftirring found
That nerv'd us for the fray
That hallo burft the bubble,
And the phantom fcar'd away ;
We crofs'd the vale o'er poft and rail,
Up leaps and downward drops ;
But where, oh where, was the cheftnut mare
And the man with tinted tops ?
XII.
He was not with the foremoft,
As they one and all declare ;
Nor was he with the hindmoft,
He was neither here nor there ;
The laft, they fay, feen of him
Was in front of the firft fence,
And no one e'er could track the mare,
Or fpot the rider thence.
XIII.
All turquoife and enamel,
Like a watch trick'd up for fhow,
Though a pretty thing to look at,
Far too beautiful to go ;
THE COFERSIDE PHANTOM. 167
He, the man at whofe appearance
We had felt ourfelves fo fmall,
Was only the ninth part of one
A tailor after all !
XIV.
His own line, when he took it,
Was by railway ticket ta'en ;
Firft-clafs, a rattling gallop,
As he homeward went by train ;
A horfe-box 'for his hunter,
And a band-box for himfelf,
One was {hunted into hidlands,
T'other laid upon the fhelf.
xv.
He has not fmce been heard of,
Should we ever fee him more,
He will ftand, the model fox-hunter,
At Mofes and Son's door ;
If not found there, I know not where,
Unlefs, encas'd in glafs,
Both man and mare in that window flare,
Which Nicolls lights with gas.
i68
The Ladie of the Caftle of Windeck.
TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN,
(ADELBERT CHAMISSO.)
i.
"1T7ATED Horfeman ! onward fpeeding,
A Hold ! thy panting courfer check ;
Thee the Phantom Stag mifleading,
Hurrieth to the lone Windeck ! "
ii.
Where two towers, their ftrength uprearing,
O'er a ruin'd gateway rife,
There the quarry difappearing
Vanifh'd from the Hunter's eyes.
in.
Lone and ftill ! no echo founded ;
Blaz'd the fun in noonday pride ;
Deep he drew his breath aftounded,
And his ftreaming forehead dried.
IV.
" Precious wine lies hid below, in
Ruin'd cellar here, they fay;
O ! that I, with cup o'erflowing,
Might my fcorching thirft allay ! "
THE LADIE OF WINDECK. 169
v.
Scarcely by his parch'd lip fpoken
Winged words the wifh proclaim,
Ere from arch, with ivy broken,
Forth a fair hand-maiden came.
VI.
Light of ftep, a glorious maiden !
Robe of fhining white fhe wore ;
With her keys her belt was laden,
Drinking horn in hand fhe bore.
VII.
Precious wine, from cup o'erflowing,
With an eager mouth he quafPd ;
Fire he felt within him glowing,
As he drain'd the magic draught.
VIII.
Eyes of deep blue, foftly glancing !
Flowing locks of golden hue !
He with clafped hands advancing
'Gan the Maiden's love to fue.
IX.
Fraught with ftrange myfterious meaning,
Pitying look fhe on him caft ;
Then, her form the ivy fcreening,
Swiftly, as fhe came, fhe paft.
170 HUNTING SONGS.
x.
From that hour enchanted ever,
Spellbound to the Windeck lone,
From that hour he flumber'd never,
Reft, and peace, and hope unknown,
XI.
Night and day that ruin'd portal
Pale and wan he hovers nigh,
Though unlike to living mortal,
Still without the power to die.
XII.
Once again the maid, appearing,
After many a year had paft,
Preft his lip with kifs endearing,
Broke the fpell of life at laft.
The Two Wizards.
GIVE ear, ye who dwell in the Tarporley
Vale,
While I tell you of Beefton a wonderful tale ;
Where its crag, caftle-crown'd, overhanging the
fteep,
Noddles down like the head of an old man afleep,
A cavern is fcoop'd, though unfeen by the eye,
In the fide of that rock, where it ftands high and
dry.
THE TWO WIZARDS. 171
There has dwelt for long ages, and there dwelleth
(till,
A Magician- believe it or not, as you will ;
He was there when Earl Blundevill laid the firft
ftone
Of thofe walls, now with ivy and mofs overgrown;
He was there when King Henry proclaimed him-
felf Lord,
When he belted his fon with the Palatine fword;
He to King Richard gave up this ftronghold,
Therein to depofit his jewels and gold ;
He was there when the Puritans mounted the
fteep,
And defied the king's troops from its garrifon'd
keep ;
And there flood this Wizard to witnefs the fight,
When Rupert's good fword put thofe rebels to
flight.
For two centuries then it was left to decay,
And its walls, weather-beaten, fell piece-meal
away,
And his home grew fo dull when the fighting
was o'er,
The Wizard declar'd he could live there no more ;
Till the thought crofs'd his brain that to cheer
his lone days
Some playmates the power of his magic might raife.
172 HUNTING SONGS.
So at funrife one morn ftepping forth from his cell,
He uplifted his wand and he mutter'd a fpell,
Each wave of that wand was feen life to infufe,
And the ftones that it touch'd, all became kan-
garoos.
He had hung round the walls of his cavern infide
The armour of thofe who had fought there and
died ;
Transforming thofe plates which long ruft had
worn thin,
He fitted each beaft with a jacket of fkin ;
Then pluck'd from each fword blade its black
leather fheath,
Which he twifted and ftuck as a tail underneath.
And there, as a ftiepherd fits watching his flock,
Sits this kangaroo keeper a-perch on his rock,
Invifible ftill, but his care night and day-
Is to feed them and watch left they wander aftray.
Ever anxious, he guards them more tenderly ftill,
When the huntfman his pack has let loofe on the
hill;
And thofe hounds, terror ftricken, all riot efchew,
When they hear a ftrange voice crying, u Ware
Kangaroo ! "
To this Wizard invifible bidding farewell,
Of another I yet have a ftory to tell ;
THE TWO WIZARDS. 173
No invifible fprite ! when he ftands full in view,
You will own him a man, and a goodly man too.
He it is who by dint of his magical fkill
Uplifted the ftones from the high Stanna hill ;
Nor paus'd till thofe fragments, pil'd up to the fky,
AfTum'd the fair form of that caftle hard by ;
He brandifh'd his fpade, and along the hill-fide
The afcent, by a roadway, made eafy and wide ;
Unlike the hid portal I fpoke of before,
Very plain to the eye is his wide open door ;
Where the tiles of the pavement, the ftones of
the wall
Unceafmgly echo a welcome to all.
There are ftables where fteeds ftand by tens in a
row,
There are chambers above, and vaft cellars below;
Each bed in thofe chambers holds nightly a gueft,
Each bin in that cellar is fill'd with the beft.
When this Wizard wends forth from his turreted
walls,
Four horfes are bitted and led from their flails,
He mounts and looks down on a team from his
box,
All perfect in ftiape from their heads to their
hocks ;
The coats that they carry are burnifh'd like gold,
Their fire by a touch of his finger controlled ;
174 HUNTING SONGS.
A whip for his wand, when their paces he fprings,
You might fancy their fhoulders were furnifh'd
with wings ;
Away ! rough or fmooth, whether up hill or down,
Through highway and byeway, through village
and town !
With that eafe and that grace with which ladies
can wheedle
Stubborn filk through the eye of a delicate needle,
Through the arch with huge portal on either fide
hung,
Hehisleaders can thruft whether reftive or young;
O'er the bridge at Bate's Mill he can twift at full
fpeed,
Charioteering which proves him a Wizard in-
deed.
Faint harp-firings at night o'er his caftle refound ;
Their tone when firft heard by the country-folk
round,
They fancied (fo far it furpafs'd human (kill)
That angels were tuning their harps on the hill ;
It was ftrung, I knew well, by an angel infide^
The fingers that fwept it were thofe of his bride.
Ofttimes they who deal in thefe magical arts
Bear hatred and malice to man in their hearts ;
But to enmity ne'er was this Wizard inclin'd,
THE TWO WIZARDS. 175
A well-difpos'd being to all human kind
To confole the affli&ed, the poor to befriend,
Of his magic, is ftill the fole object and end ;
And each cottager's prayer is, that fpells fuch as
thefe
He may long live to work in this Valley of Cheefe.
On a Tame Fox,
A PARLOUR PET AT DALEFORD, THE RESIDENCE OF THE
MASTER OF THE CHESHIRE HOUNDS.
I.
SQUIRE CORBET ! at all feafons
A fox is his delight,
A wild one for the morning,
And a tame one for the night ;
n.
For the fox that fcours the country
We a green gorfe cover raife,
But parlour pug lies warm and fnug
In a cover of green baize.
in.
Or in his chair repofing,
Or o'er the faddle bent,
Corbet, wide awake or dozing,
Is never off the fcent.
1 76 HUNTING SONGS.
IV.
He needs no kirtled houfemaid,
The carpet on the ftairs
Is dufted by the fweeping
Of the brufh that Reynard wears.
v.
This hunting man's houfekeeper,
She, without diftrefs of nerves,
Oft amongft the currant jelly
Finds a fox in her preferves.
VI.
Bones of chicken ever picking,
This pet, fo fed and nurs'd,
Though he never gave a gallop,
He may finifh with a burft.
'The Mare and her M after.
THOUGH my fight is grown dim, though my
arm is grown weak,
Grey hairs on my forehead, and lines on my
cheek ;
MARE AND HER MASTER. 177
Though the verdure of youth is now yellow and
fere,
I feel my heart throb when November draws
near.
ii.
I could pardon the wrongs thou haft done me,
Old Time !
If thy hand would but help me the ftirrup to
climb ;
The one pleafure left is to gaze on my mare,
Her with whom I lov'd bed the excitement to
fliare.
in.
Sound wind and limb, without blemifh or fpeck,
Her rider difabled, her owner a wreck !
Unftripp'd and unfaddled, fhe feems to afk why,
Unfpurr'd and unbooted, I make no reply.
IV.
Remembrance then dwells on each hard-ridden
run,
On the country we crofs'd, on the laurels we won;
Fleet limbs once extended, now cribb'd in their
ftall,
They fpeak of paft triumphs, paft gallops recall.
N
178 HUNTING SONGS.
v.
I remember, when baulk'd of our ftart at the find,
How we flipp'd, undifmay'd, through the rabble
behind ;
No check to befriend us, ftill tracking the burft,
Till by dint of fheer fwiftnefs the laft became
firft.
VI.
And that day I remember, when croiling the bed
Of a deep rolling river, the pack fhot ahead ;
How the dandies, though caf'd in their water-
proof Peals,
Stood aghaft as we ftemm'd it, and ftuck to their
heels.
VII.
How ere Jack with his hammer had riven
the nail,
And unhing'd the park-gate, we have fkimm'd
the oak pale ;
Over bogs where the hoof of the cocktail {tuck
faft,
How her foot without finking Camilla-like pafs'd.
VIII.
I remember, though warn'd by the voice of Tom
Ranee
a Have a care of that fence " how we ventur'd
the chance ;
MARE AND HER MASTER. 179
How we fac'd it and fell from the depth of the
drain
How we pick'd ourfelves up, and were with 'em
again.
IX.
Over meadows of water, through forefts of
wood,
Over grafs-land or plough, there is nothing like
blood ;
Whate'er place I coveted, thou, my good
mare,
Defpite of all hindrances, landed me there.
x.
The deareft of friends I that man muft account,
To whom on her faddle I proffer a mount ;
And that friend fhall confefs that he never yet
knew,
Till he handled my pet, what a flyer could do.
XI.
Should dealers come down from the Leicefter-
fhire vale,
And turn with good gold thy own weight in the
fcale,
Would I fell thee? not I, for a millionaire's purfe!
Through life we are wedded for better for worfe.
i8o HUNTING SONGS.
XII.
I can feed thee, and pet thee,and finger thy mane,
Though I ne'er throw my leg o'er thy quarters
again ;
Gold fhall ne'er purchafe one lock of thy hair,
Death alone fliall bereave the old man of his
mare.
1871.
Farewell to Tarporley.
i.
TO comrades of the hunting field, tho' fad to
fay farewell,
'Tis pleafant ftill on olden days at Tarporley to
dwell :
On friends for whom, alive or dead, our love is
unimpair'd,
The mirth and the adventure and the fport that
we have ftiar'd.
n.
The feelings of good fellowfhip which Tarporley
unite,
The honour'd names recorded which have made
its annals bright,
FAREWELL TO TARPORLET. 181
Old Charley Cholmondeley's portrait and the
fafhion of our clothes,
In the days of padded neckcloths, breeches green
and filken hofe.
in.
The upright form of Delamere, Sir Richard's
graceful feat,
The brothers three from Dorfold fprung whom
none of us could beat ;
The fun with which Bob Grofvenor enliven' d
every fpeech,
The laugh of Charley Wickfted lengthened out
into a fcreech.
IV.
The claflical Quaefltum and the Prefident's hard
chair.
Each year's fucceeding Patronefs whofe charms
were toafted there \
The inevitable wrangle which the Farmer's cup
provokes,
Sir Watkin cracking bifcuits, and Sir Harry
cracking jokes.
v.
The match in which though Adelaide but held a
fecond place,
No judge was there to certify that Go-by won
the race,
i8i HUNTING SONGS.
The ftakes withheld the winner told jocofely by
the Hunt,
With nothing elfe to pocket he muft pocket the
affront.
VI.
Earl Wilton ever foremoft amid Leicefterfhire
high flyers,
Coming down from Melton Mowbray to enlighten
Chefhire Squires ;
Belgrave who unbreech'd us, and one fatal
afternoon
Firft cloth'd us to the ankle in the modern
pantaloon.
VII.
The foxes which from Huxley gorfe have led us
many a dance,
Joe Maiden beft of huntfmen, beft of whips old
Tommy Ranee ;
That good old foul, John Dixon, and his lengthy
draught of ale,
That mirthful day when " Little Dogs " came
home without a tail.
VIII.
The glory of that gallop which old Oulton Low
fupplied,
The front-rank men of Chefhire charging onward
fide by fide ;
FAREWELL TO TARPORLET. 183
The Baron with his fpurs at work in rear of the
advance,
When Britain, in the field for once, ran clean
away from France.
IX.
The find at Brindley cover and at Dorfold Hall
the kill,
The Breeches left behind us but the brufh before
us ftill ;
The fox that fkimm'd the Tilfton cream forget
we never fhall
The fcore of hunting breeches that were wafh'd
in that canal.
x.
And that ill-ftarr'd difafter when, unconfcious
of the leap,
I dropp'd into the water of a marl-pit fix feet
deep;
Enough to damp the keeneft but conceive the
fearful fight,
When I found that underneath me lay the body
of Jack White.
XI.
The harmony infus'd into the rhymes which I
have ftrung,
When firft I heard the 64 '1 PM
T n 01 A n A 'A/I General Library
*%MMSS&VB Unl^^rfgUfbnJ.
Hunti
ng songs
1877
70
THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY