The badger is not often much hurt in the drawing, the thickness of their skin being sufficient to prevent them from taking any great harm. The looseness of the skin is such that they can turn easily, and, moreover, they are so quick in moving about, that the dogs are often desperately wounded in the first assault, and compelled to give up the contest.
To give an idea of the extreme sensitiveness for cleanliness which characterize the habits of the badger, let the following example be taken. On being drawn from its barrel by the dog, it not unfrequently happens in the scuffle which ensues, that the animal is rolled over and over, among the mire of the road, or the dirt of some neighbouring dunghill. Should the badger, however, be able to escape to its place of refuge in the barrel, even for a minute or two, the onlooker is surprised to find it turn out again as "snod" and clean, as if the dragging process through the dirt had never been undergone.
Several proverbial sayings are current, which have been drawn from the nature and habits of this animal. For instance, a man of much and long continued endurance, is said to be "as hard as a brock;" and any one, upon whom age is creeping, and whose hair has lost a good deal of its original brightness, is said to be "as grey as a badger." Relph of Sebergham, in detailing in his native patois, the woes of a young and lusty love-sick swain, gives an illustration of one of the modes of hunting the animal:—
Nae mair i' th' neets thro' woods he leads,
To treace the wand'rin' brock;
But sits i' th' nuik, an' nowt else heeds,
But Jenny an' her rock.
In addition to the haunts of the badger incidentally mentioned, Brock-stones, in Kentmere; Brock-holes, at the foot of Tebay Fells; Graythwaite woods, in Furness Fells; Greystoke forest, near Penrith; Brockley-moor, in Inglewood forest; Brock-hills, near Hesket Newmarket; and Brocklebank, on the east side of Derwentwater;—these and many other like coverts in the Lake Country, (as their names indicate,) were all strongholds and places of much resort for these animals, in the olden time.
Within the memory of living man, badgers have burrowed in the sand hills on Brocklebank, where it was not uncustomary for the tag-rag and bob-tail fraternity of Keswick, to hunt and capture them for the purpose of baiting.
About the year 1823, Tom Wilson, a shoemaker—reared at The Woodman inn, Keswick—remembers one being caught in a sack at the foot of Brockle-beck, when a novel but extremely foolish experiment was tried in the way of hunting it. It was let off in the midst of a gang of rough men, half-grown lads, and dogs, in deep water, near Lord's Island on Derwent Lake, and the chances are that the poor animal perished by drowning. At all events, it soon disappeared under the surface, and was never seen again by man or dog.
A husbandman, named Jonathan Gill, captured another on Great How, a steep wooded mountain which rises on the east side of Thirlmere lake. These are the two last badgers in the Keswick locality, of which we have any tidings. It is more than probable that the Brocklebank herd became dispersed or extinct about this period.