Ladies on Horseback / Learning, Park-riding, and Hunting, with Hints Upon Costume, and Numerous Anecdotes

by Mrs. Power O'Donoghue

We have one very serious drawback to our hunting in Ireland, and, indeed, in many other places also—namely, wire fencing. I saw something of a tragic incident occur last season whilst hunting with the Meath hounds. We came up to an impassable fence, and all made for the gate, which was open; but the owner of the land rushed out from his dwelling, shut it in our faces, and insolently refused to allow us to pass. Threats and entreaties were alike vain. He called us every name in the calendar, and consigned us all to a very ugly place, in language which was certainly not parliamentary. Many of the field turned off and sought another way, but two or three of the bold ones charged the gate, and got over, clearing man and all! I and one other took the fence—a mad proceeding, which gave us both an ugly fall; but we scrambled up somehow, and succeeded in picking up the hounds. Late in the evening, whilst hunting another fox, he led us over the same identical ground, and a hard-riding gentleman, first at this mighty obstacle, charged it boldly, but, alas, with what a result! The farmer had, during our absence, run a stiff wire through the fence, which, catching the horse in the breast, turned him completely over, breaking the rider's arm, and otherwise severely injuring him. Some members of the hunt, seeing what had occurred, besieged the offender's dwelling, and he had an extremely uncomfortable ten minutes. I have heard persons aver that the man was badly treated, and that he had a perfect right to wire his fences if he so willed. Undoubtedly he had, if it were done openly and in such a way that the wiring could be discerned, but not, by petty treachery, to imperil the safety, if not the lives, of a large number of persons.

My advice to farmers would be this; wire the fences if necessary; but, at the commencement of the hunting season, cut away, say twenty yards of the wiring at the poorest point of the field, and mark the spot with a pole and flag. Every rider would assuredly make for it as being the only jumpable place, and at the close of the season a few boys with five-grained forks would speedily set all to rights; nor can there be any doubt that the best crop in the field would be on that particular spot. Allowing even for a moment, for argument's sake, that expense, trouble, or loss might be thus occasioned, there is not a master of hounds in all Ireland—neither, I fancy, in any other country—who would not willingly and cheerfully indemnify the owner of the land. But so long as the world lasts, so long will there be blindness; and until the "happy hunting-grounds" are reached, horses and horsemen will be daily anathematised by the self-willed cultivators of our native soil.

PART V.

HUNTING IN AMERICA.

There is a great land across the Atlantic where they do great things, and utter great sayings, and patent great inventions, and erect great buildings—and where, in short, the inhabitants beat us (as they themselves say) "all to fits!"

A mighty nation they are, too—God prosper them as they deserve; but there is one thing at least in which we can say, without boasting, we are able to beat them, and that is, in our hunting. A fox-hunt in America is a very tame and inglorious proceeding, and one which decidedly would not come under our definition of "sport."

American hunting differs in the first instance from ours, inasmuch as it is always a summer pastime. The extreme severity of the winters necessitates this, as during the cold season neither men nor horses can work.

The disadvantages of summer hunting are of course numerous. The heat is excessive, and the crops are in the ground. Most of the American farmers and graziers own their land, and the greater number of them will not suffer hoofs to cross it. This is partly from a spirit of surly independence—partly from an ignorant determination to hold with stolid obstinacy to that most erroneous belief, that the galloping of horses is injurious to grass-lands. But, anyhow, the objection exists; and as it is vain to attempt to overrule it, a compromise is effected between hunting under difficulties and not hunting at all.

The system pursued is this. A man—usually a stout-limbed peasant—is sent out, who drags an aniseeded bag across country, and over the lands and fences of such as will permit it, or who are themselves in the habit of joining in the chase. Then, when the field has assembled, the hounds are laid on, and work their way after the drag, a "bag-man" being provided to blood them at the finish. Sometimes the pack comes too close upon the dragger, and then a nasty scene ensues, which is pleasanter not described.