TO THE SECOND EDITION, REPRINTED IN THIS.

Sometime after the foregoing sheets were numbered and prepared for the press, I received a letter on the subject of dogs and dog-breaking from Mr. L——g (spoken of in 183).

I had long ago requested him freely to make remarks upon my book, assuring him that as I had only written from a wish to be serviceable, I could not but take all his comments in good part, however much they might be opposed to my pre-conceived ideas. I further promised to mention his criticisms for the benefit of my future readers, if I considered them judicious.

Every man is fully entitled to form an opinion for himself: and as there are minor points—though on most we are fully agreed—in which Mr. L——g and myself slightly differ, I think it the fairest plan to let him explain his own views in his own way, and I have the less hesitation in doing so as, to most sportsmen, a letter from a clever sportsman on his favourite subject must always be more or less interesting. He writes nearly word for word as follows:—

“7, Haymarket, January, 1850.

“Sir,—On perusing your book on dog-breaking I really find little, if anything, to say that will assist you in your new edition; but I must observe that I think you would be doing a service to the community, if you would lend a helping hand to improve the breed of pointers; or rather to get up a sort of committee of sportsmen (thorough judges) to investigate into the pedigree of dogs, and express their opinion of the make, nose, durability, &c., of the several animals submitted to them; that prizes might be awarded, or stakes hunted for; and books kept of the pedigree of the several competitors, much in the same way as such matters are managed with greyhounds.

“It is of no consequence how fast a dog travels who is wanted for the moors, or how wide he ranges; but such a dog would be worse than useless in the south, and in all small enclosures. I feel assured that dogs which are first-rate on grouse are not fitted for partridge. My experience tells me that not one dog in twenty is worth keeping,—that the generality do far more harm than good,—this I see almost every day that I am out. There seem to be now-a-days no recognised thorough-bred pointers, but those obtained from one or two kennels in Yorkshire. I have shot over many north-country dogs, but found there was too much of the fox-hound blood in them for the south,—they are too high-couraged, and range much too far. After the first fortnight of partridge-shooting you want quiet, close rangers who will never move until told. In the turnip-fields in Norfolk you will get among lots of birds, and you may then fill your bag any day, provided you can hunt the field in perfect quiet; but with a rattling, blustering dog you will hardly get a shot,—yet you want a dog that shall be neither too large nor too heavy.

“Not one dog in fifty of the many I see, properly hunts his ground. The reason is this. The keepers in the north,—yet none understand their duties better,—take out a lot of dogs along with an old one; off they all start like oiled lightning—some one way, the others just the contrary: one gets a point, they all drop and stop. The keepers say, is not that beautiful?—is it not a picture for Landseer? I have followed the party on the moors over the self-same ground a dozen of times, and obtained with my brace of close rangers and good finders double the number of shots that they did, and three times the amount of game; for I was walking at my ease, and giving my dogs time to make out the birds—which is very essential in the middle of the day, when there is a scorching sun.

“I recollect one instance in particular. Some years ago I had just arrived at the top of a very stiff hill on the Bradfield Moors (in Yorkshire), and was making for a certain spring where I had forwarded my luncheon, and a fresh supply of ammunition, when I saw, immediately before me, two gentlemen with their keepers, and four very good-looking setters, hunting the precise ground I had to take to get to my point—about a mile off. I therefore sat down for a quarter of an hour to let them get well ahead. They found several straggling birds; but there was such a noise from the keepers rating and hallooing to the dogs, that, although they got five or six shots, they only bagged one brace of birds. When they reached the spring, they observed me coming over the very ground they had beat only a quarter of an hour before. I got ten shots, every one to points, and killed nine birds. I was highly complimented on the beautiful, quiet style of my dogs, &c., and was offered a goblet of as fine old sherry as man ever drunk. I need not observe that I much relished it after my morning’s walk. The gentlemen said, that if I felt disposed to take the dogs to the Tontine Inn, Sheffield, when I had done with them, I should find fifty guineas there awaiting me; but I declined the offer, as on several occasions I had repented having yielded to the temptation of a long price for favourite dogs. The brace I refused to sell were young setters, bred by Tom Cruddas, keeper to—Bowes, Esq., near Barnard Castle, Durham. I subsequently found them very unfitted for the style of work required in small fields and indifferent stubble, and I was well beaten in a trial with them against a brace of Russian setters. I afterwards procured the latter by exchanging my Englishmen for them. For two years I was much pleased with the foreigners, and bred some puppies from them; they did not, however, turn out to my satisfaction. I then tried a cross with some of the best dogs I could get in England and from Russia, but could never obtain any so good as the original stock. I have now got into a breed of red and white pointers from the splendid stock of the late Sir Harry Goodrich, and many and many another hundred head of game should I have killed,—and in much greater comfort and temper should I have shot,—had I possessed so perfect a breed twenty years ago.

“As a proof of what can be done with dogs, I will mention that I broke in a spaniel to hunt (with my setters) in the open as well as in cover, and made him ‘point,’ ‘back,’ and ‘drop to charge,’ as perfectly as any dog you ever saw; and he would, when ordered, retrieve his game; the setter, meanwhile, never moving until desired. I shot over them for two years. They were a very killing pair, but had not a sporting look. In September, ’38, I took them with me to that excellent sportsman, Sir Richard Sutton. The old Squire Osbaldiston, was there. They were both much pleased with the dogs. By letting my poor pet ‘Dash’ run about, he was bitten by a mad dog in the neighbourhood. Of course I lost him.

“Speaking of spaniels, I must say I think that there is no kind of dog that retrieves birds so well in thick turnips, where so much dead and wounded game is frequently left unbagged. With ‘Dash’ I seldom lost a feather in the strongest turnips in the course of a whole day; but I now rarely go out with sportsmen but that I see two or three birds lost,—sometimes more,—from what are said to be the best breed of retrievers in the country. The constant loss of wounded birds is one of the drawbacks to the Norfolk shooting, where, without doubt, the finest shooting in England is to be obtained. Gentlemen there go out, some four, five, or six in a line, with only one or two retrievers, and a man to each to pick up the killed game. The sportsmen never stop to load, for each has generally a man by his side with a spare gun ready charged. If a bird is winged, or a hare wounded, the dogs go in at once to fetch it. Were the sportsmen to divide into distinct parties, each party taking one or two steady, close-ranging dogs, what much more true sport and pleasure they would have!—and kill, too, quite as much game.

“You ask me wherein I differ from you in what you have written? Certainly in very little,—and I have sent several gentlemen to Murray’s for copies of your book; but in page 3, you say that ‘dog-breaking does not require much experience.’ There I cannot agree with you,—for how is it that there are so few who understand it? Not one keeper or gentleman in a thousand, in my opinion. The reason is that they have not sufficient practice and experience.[111]

“In another point I differ with you. I have seen some of the best rangers I ever shot over made by being allowed to follow their mother in the field, or some very old dog,[112]—what some people would term a worn-out potterer. But I think it a yet better plan to attach a lay-cord of about forty yards in length to the collar of the young dog, and let a man or boy hold the other end. You will give a slight whistle when he gets to the extremity of his range, and a wave of the hand to turn him forward or back.[113] By such means I have seen dogs, with a few days’ constant shooting, made perfect in that,—the most essential thing in all dog-breaking.

“I observe that you condemn the check-collar[114] in toto. I think you are wrong. I have seen dogs cured by it who would not drop to shot, but would perpetually rush in, especially if a wounded bird was fluttering near them, and who had been most unmercifully licked, to no useful purpose. I recollect orders being given to destroy a dog that appeared utterly incorrigible. As he was a beautiful ‘finder,’ I begged that he might be allowed one more trial. I sent to town for a check-collar, and in a few hours he was pulled head over heels half-a-dozen times. He then found out what he was punished for, squatted down accordingly, and never afterwards attempted to rush forward, unless he was over-fresh. You speak of hares not annoying your dogs in Scotland. I have been sadly annoyed by them when grouse-shooting there. In one part, from hares jumping up every five minutes, I had great difficulty in restraining my dogs from chasing; and on this occasion I found the check-collar quite a blessing,—for had I used the whip I should have been thrown off my shooting, and the noise would have disturbed the birds. I had at the time two of the best shots in England shooting against me, and I should to a certainty have been beaten had I not been so prudent as to take out the collar.

“I remember selling to a young officer a brace of my puppies, or rather young dogs (for they were eighteen months old), for twenty-five guineas. They were well broken, but had not been shot over. He had not been an hour on the moors before up started one of the small Scotch sheep. Both the dogs gave chase, and on their return the keeper was directed to give them a good dressing. One of them would not hunt for them again, and became so timid that the officer desired the keeper to get rid of it. It was given to a gentleman in the neighbourhood, who knew he could not be far away in accepting it, as it had been bred and sold by me. He took it out a few times and soon found out its value. The other dog the officer sold for 10l., and then wrote a very angry letter to me, complaining of my having sold him such a brace as well broken. A fortnight after this he invited the gentleman who had become possessor of the shy puppy to come and shoot with him. The gentleman made his appearance with, what he termed, his ‘shy friend.’ After many protestations against taking out such a brute, it was agreed that it should be done on the gentleman’s offering to bet 5l. that his ‘shy friend’ would get more points than either of the dogs they proposed hunting; and another 5l. that he should prove himself the best broken of the dogs, and never during the whole day offer to chase hare or sheep. The bets were not made, but to show you the esteem in which his late master afterwards held the animal, he offered fifty guineas to get her back, but the money was refused. His brother also turned out a magnificent dog—so much for want of patience.

“It is just possible that all I have written may be of no use,—but should you find it of any, it is quite at your service. Since I last saw you I have had many more opportunities of observing the extraordinary nose of the dog I showed you—a quality in which I fancy forty-nine out of fifty dogs are deficient. I sent him down to Hickfield-place, Hants, for the Speaker, who is an excellent sportsman, to use for a few times to see if he was not superior to his dogs. He returned the dog with a very handsome basket of game, saying he was one of the finest dogs he had ever seen hunted, and he begged me to get him a brace of the same kind against next season; stating that the price would be no consideration if they proved as good as mine. I have tried him against many other old dogs, said to be ‘the best in England,’ but not one of them had a shadow of a chance against him. I have refused a very long price for him. For beauty, style, symmetry, nose, durability, and good temper (a great thing), none can beat him. I should like to increase his breed for the sake of the shooting community; yet I have no wish to keep him publicly as a sire, nor to send him away. I think I should be doing a general benefit, if I gave it out that his services could be obtained for three guineas: and that the sums thus obtained were to be set aside as a prize for the best dog, to be contended for by competitors who should give 3l. or 5l. each. Something of this kind, could, I think, be managed, and it would greatly tend to improve our breed of pointers. I bought a bitch with the view of getting some pups by him. She had nine, but not one like the father, grandfather, or great-grandfather—so I sold her, puppies and all. I have just purchased another; she comes of an excellent stock, and has good shape. I shall see what luck I have with her. She is a far more likely dam.

“I should have written to you long ago, had I not expected to meet the person I term my Yorkshire breeder. He is the best breaker I ever saw, and a man you can depend upon. He and his father, for sixty years, have borne as high a character for honesty, as for excellence in breaking. Many a time has he contended, and always come off victor, against Mr. Edge’s dogs—a good trial kennel, but the breed have savage dispositions, bad tempers, and are very unmanageable when young. I have tried many of them myself, and have no faith in them.

“On the moors, when the work is excessively fatiguing, and plenty of water is generally to be found, you may with advantage employ setters: but in a hot September, in England, when no water could be procured, I have known some of the best setters I ever saw do nothing but put up the birds. In mid-day, when there was but little scent, their nasal organs seemed quite to fail them, and being fast they constantly ran into coveys before they could stop themselves.

“I was once asked to be umpire in a match between a pointer and a setter. It was to be decided by which of the dogs got most points in the day. As this was the agreement, I was obliged to abide by it and decide accordingly: but that is not the test by which the superiority of dogs ought to be determined. I presume what is really wanted in a dog is usefulness to his master in killing game. If so, that dog ought to be considered best which gets his master most shots within a rise not exceeding forty yards.[115] The setter being faster and taking a much wider range, got by far the most points, therefore I was compelled to award him the prize; but the pointer made twenty-two points to which the party got twenty-one shots. The setter got thirty points, but only sixteen of them could be shot to, and he put up thrice as many birds as the pointer. I could mention twenty other similar instances of trials between pointers and setters, but I should fill half-a-dozen more sheets and not interest you. It is getting dark, so I will conclude my long yarn.

“I am, Sir,
“Your obedient servant,
(Signed) “Josh. Lang.”