A biographical notice of the late Captain J. R. Lane Fox appears in another column.
The Bramham Moor had a nice hunt on Monday, February 12th, from Beckwithshaw Bar. After rather an unusually long draw for the country, they found in the Boar Holes and pointed for Swarcliffe, but a blinding storm came on, caused the fox to swing round at Penny Pot lane, and they hunted back slowly by Birk Crag and Ruddocks Wood, and finally marked the fox to ground in the quarry at Thirkell’s Whin. They found again in the Lake Plantation at Farnley, and at a good pace hounds rattled along over the Washburn, pointing for Leathley. Then they ran on by Riffa Wood, but bore left-handed for Stainburn Gile. Before reaching this stronghold the fox was headed, and, turning short back, hounds left Riffa Wood on the right and ran on by Bailey’s Whin and across the Stainburn road, where they got on good terms with their fox. He was viewed here and headed, and hounds checked and did no more good. Up to the check it was a sporting run over a sporting country.
The Holderness had a good gallop on Monday, February 19th, when they met at Brandesburton Moor. Nunkeeling Whin provided a stout fox, and hounds were scarcely in covert before they were away close at his brush. They streamed away to Billings Hill and thence by Dunnington to Dringhoe. Here they checked momentarily, but they righted themselves and ran on at a fine pace to Nunkeeling Whin, finishing the ring in a little under the hour. The fox was only just in front of them and had no time to dwell in covert, and they rattled along cheerily by Frodingham Grange, North Frodingham and Trickett’s Whin to Beeford Grange, where they rolled their fox over in the open.
The Sinnington commenced the month of March well. They met at Bowforth on the 1st, and, after a run from Muscoate’s Whin and round by Mr. Martin’s Farm, which ended in the fox giving them the slip, they went on to Jack Slater’s Plantation, where they found a straight-necked hill-fox, such as the Sinnington country is famous for. They ran first over a charming low country over the Ness road, and nearly to Nunnington, and then, twisting to the right, they ran on over the Riccal Beck and across the end of Riccal Dale. Then, at a famous pace, they ran by Con Howe, nearly to Carlton Village, where they swung to the left into Ashdale. They ran close past the main earths and over Birk Dale to the Griff Farm, where they checked at the road, but, recovering the line in an instant, they ran right up to the railings at Rievaulx Terrace. Here, unfortunately, the field halloaed them on to another fox, and the run came to an end, after a famous gallop of an hour and three minutes.
The York and Ainsty had quite an useful day’s sport on Tuesday, March 6th, when they met at Rufforth Village. According to arrangement, they went to draw the Bramham Moor Friday’s country, and found a brace of foxes in White Skye Whin. Unluckily, hounds divided, and seven couple went away with a fox in the direction of Bickerton Spring, and were soon stopped. The body of the pack ran on cheerily for a little short of a mile, pointing for Marston Station. Then the fox was headed, and they hunted him slowly back to White Skye Whin, where he beat them. They drew Wilstrop Wood blank, but found in the Rash hard by a brace of foxes, which they took across into Wilstrop Wood, and with one of which they went away slowly to Hutton Thorns, where scent failed. Then came rather a cheery run from the Crow Wood, by Rufforth Village into Rufforth Whin, whence they hunted back by the Crow Wood into Collier Stagg, and through it to Fairy Carrs, where they marked their fox to ground. They went to draw Collier Hagg, but, before hounds were in covert, a fox was halloaed away at the other side, and they ran at a good pace by Rufforth Village into Rufforth Whin. After a turn or two round the covert they went away again and hunted slowly back to Collier Hagg. Thence they took a line out on the Marston side, and, with a left-hand turn, pointed for Healaugh, and worked up to the fox and rolled him over on the Askham and Healaugh road, so making a satisfactory finish to a day in which there was a lot of hard work for hounds.
AMERICAN v. ENGLISH FOXHOUND MATCH.
It appears that some errors crept into the account of this event, published in Baily’s for February, The Grafton Hunt has American-bred hounds and the Middlesex imported hounds. Each pack hunted on six days, and the strength of either was: American hounds, 6 couple; English, 18½ couple. Mr. Harry Smith, Master of the Grafton, has been kind enough to put us right on these points: he adds that the English hounds are drafts, principally from Mr. Fernie’s, and that the American pack, as the “Van Driver” conjectured, are pure-bred foxhounds, descended from imported English hounds. The American-bred hounds stand about twenty-two inches high, and are lighter in build than their imported relatives. Mr. Smith observes that “in America, where the scent is bad and the sun is hot, it is absolutely necessary to have a pack able to take up a cold trail from the night before, work it to the kennel and start the fox themselves. If they lose it on a dusty road or wall the same faculty for cold trailing is necessary.” The American method, in fact, is that in vogue on the fells, where hounds unkennel their fox in much the same way. Mr. Smith tells us that though his pack did not kill during the match, they killed three red and two grey foxes in the open during the two following weeks, hunting the same country.
BREEDING OF THOROUGHBREDS.
Captain W. Tower Townshend, Derry, Roscarberry, co. Cork, writes as follows: I have just read with much interest your article on “The Thoroughbred,” in Baily’s for February, which any man who has endeavoured to breed a good all-round thoroughbred must agree with, save that your correspondent does not include change of soil and air—to my mind a powerful factor in improving the race of pure-bred horses. We see during the last racing year what Irish-bred horses have done on the English Turf, and I need not tell you we have not a tithe of the fashionable blood over here that you have in England. While the late Duke of Westminster’s celebrated Bend Or was alive, the “Special Commissioner” of the Sportsman was constantly advocating that he should be sent to Ireland, when he predicted he would probably have sired another Ormond. I have no doubt, judging from my own experience, had the Duke done as the Sportsman advised, he would have done so. Some years ago I imported Town Moor, by Doncaster—Euxine, who, you will remember, ran third in Iroquois’ Derby, and then stood in the Queen’s stud at Hampton Court, where he got every chance with the very best mares, but never got any horse of exceptional merit. But during his first season in this country, when an old horse of 18 years, with the slenderest of chances, he bred Gogo to Endocia,[[12]] a mare belonging to Lord Fermoy, that was generally acknowledged to be the best two-year-old in Ireland. Town Moor unfortunately died two years after reaching these shores, or no doubt after Gogo’s fame there would have been a great run on his services. I wish more of the big English breeders could be persuaded to send brood mares over here, and try the experiment of a complete change. I am convinced it would tell most advantageously on the vigour and stoutness of the coming young stock, as both the climate and soil of Ireland seem fitted by Nature for horse-breeding; the winters being so mild the mares can be left out all day and night till they foal, and the best of grass can be hired far cheaper than it can in England.