It is impossible to enter upon a description of the foxhound without considerable diffidence. Whether we consider the enthusiastic admiration it excites amongst sportsmen, the undeviating perseverance and high courage of the animal, its perfect symmetry, and the music of its tongue, which warms the heart and gives life and spirit to man and horse, it must be difficult to do justice to his merits. I will, however, endeavour to do my best; and should I fail, it will not be for want of admiration of the noble animal whose qualifications I am about to illustrate with characteristic anecdotes.

In giving a description of the various breeds of dogs, every one must be aware that by crossing and recrossing them many of those we now see have but little claim to originality. The foxhound, the old Irish wolf-dog, and the colley or shepherd's dog, may, perhaps, be considered as possessing the greatest purity of blood. My opinion respecting the foxhound is partly founded on the following curious fact:—

In Wilkinson's "Manners and Customs of the Egyptians," there is a representation of as varmint a pack of foxhounds as modern eye could wish to see. It is copied from a painting found in the interior of the tomb of the Pharaoh under whom Joseph served. Every individual hound is characteristic of the present breed, with all their courage and animation. Each dog's tail was as an old Irish huntsman, who used to glory in seeing his hounds carry their sterns after the hardest day, once said to his master, "not behind them at all, plaize your honour, but curling out over their shoulders."If the copy be correct, and there is no reason to doubt it, the dog of this breed must be considered of a much more ancient date than is generally supposed. There is every reason to believe that the first dogs came from Asia. Indeed, history, both sacred and profane, confirms this. At all events, the fact just mentioned is sufficiently curious, and may serve to confirm the supposition I have ventured to make of the purity of the blood of our modern foxhound.

A volume might be written on the characteristics of these dogs, both in the kennel and the field, and I will endeavour to illustrate this by a few anecdotes.

It is well known to those who have lived near a kennel, that every morning at the first gleam of light the hounds invariably salute the glorious return of day, by joining simultaneously in a full chorus of voices, 'a musical discord,' called by huntsmen "their morning hymn." This concert does not consist of barking and yapping as many may suppose, but something like the "Hullah system," yet far more sonorous to a sportsman's ear.

Those who have witnessed the process of feeding hounds cannot but acknowledge that it is a most pleasing sight. We see the anxiety depicted in their countenances to detect the huntsman's eye, who calls them singly by name in a low tone of voice, nor does one offer to stir till his time comes. Each dog also takes every day the same position, like children at school, except that all are obedient, and there is no noise. His late Majesty George IV., in his younger days, was a constant attendant at the royal kennel at feeding-time, and many of the royal family have also been to see the hounds fed at that place.

Close to the Duke of Beaufort's kennel at Badmington a tame fox was confined, and between it and the foxhounds a great friendship existed. When the hounds were let out they played with the fox, who, on his part, was equally ready to greet them. This reciprocal kindness had continued some time, until one day a hunted fox, much exhausted, ran for shelter into a bush close to the hutch of the tame one. The hounds, in the eagerness of the chase, ran into the latter, mistaking him for the other, and instantly killed him. No sooner, however, were they aware of their having occasioned the death of their old acquaintance, than each hound slunk away, appearing conscious and ashamed of what had been done, nor could they be induced to touch the dead fox when thrown amongst them.

Amongst other curious anecdotes of foxhounds, the following may be mentioned. Some years ago, Sir John Cope had a hound called Clermont, which was in the constant habit, when the pack killed a fox, of taking possession of the animal's head. This he invariably carried in his mouth, as if it was a trophy, and on arriving at the kennel would put it down at the kennel door. In this way he must have imposed a severe task on himself, as the pack had frequently twenty miles to go home when the chase was over. The weight was not indeed great; but the dog's mouth being distended the whole time must have made the task anything but a pleasant one.

Some hounds are possessed of extraordinary instinct, which enables them to find their way back to their kennels over country which they had never before traversed. When George III. kept hounds in the Home Park, Windsor, General Manners, one of the equerries, took a hound named Bustler with him in his carriage to London. He remained there a few days, and then travelled to Bloxholm in Lincolnshire, the dog being still his companion inside the carriage. In less than a month, however, Bustler found his way back to Frogmore.

The captain of a vessel informed me that he had once picked up a dog in mid-channel between Brighton and Calais, swimming boldly and strongly towards the French coast. If this dog was endeavouring to make his way back to a beloved master, it was an extraordinary instance of affection.

A few years ago some hounds were embarked at Liverpool for Ireland, and were safely delivered at a kennel far up in that country. One of them, not probably liking his quarters, found his way back to the port at which he had been landed from Liverpool. On arriving at it, some troops were being embarked in a ship bound to that place. This was a fortunate circumstance for the old hound, as during the bustle he was not noticed. He safely arrived at Liverpool, and on his old master, or huntsman rather, coming down stairs one morning, he recognised his former acquaintance waiting to greet him.

A similar circumstance happened to some hounds sent by the late Lord Lonsdale to Ireland. Three of them escaped from the kennel in that country, and made their appearance again in Leicestershire.

The love of home, or most probably affection for a particular individual, must be strongly implanted in dogs to induce them to search over unexplored and unknown regions for the being and home they love. Hunger, it might be supposed, would alone stop the ardour of their pursuit, and induce them to seek for nourishment and shelter at a stranger's door. But such is not the case. Hungry, foot-sore, fatigued, and exhausted, the noble and faithful animal presses onward, guided by an instinct which man does not possess, and proving the strength of his love by his indefatigable and ardent exertions. Poor, faithful animal! and is it possible that you are subjected to ill treatment, cruelty, and neglect by those who owe you a large debt of gratitude? Your exertions procure amusement, your watchfulness and fidelity give protection, and neither sickness nor misfortune will induce you to forsake the object of your attachment.

But it is time to resume our anecdotes of foxhounds, and the following is a proof of the high courage they so often display, as well as their emulative spirit.

In drawing a strong covert, a young bitch gave tongue very freely, whilst none of the other hounds challenged. The whipper-in rated to no purpose, the huntsman insisted she was wrong, and the whip was applied with great severity, in doing which the lash most unfortunately took the orb of the eye out of the socket. Notwithstanding the excruciating pain she must inevitably have laboured under, the poor suffering animal again flew to the scent, and exultingly proved herself to be right, for a fox having stole away, she broke covert after him unheeded, and continued the chase alone. After much delay and cold hunting the pack at length hit off the chase. At some distance a farmer made a signal with much vehemence to the company, who, upon coming up to him, were informed that they were very far behind the fox, for that a single hound, very bloody about the head, had passed a field from him, and was running breast-high, and that there was little chance of getting up to him. The pack, however, at her coming to a check, did at length get up, and, after some cold hunting, the bitch again hit off the scent, and the fox was killed after a severe run. The eye of the poor but high-spirited dog, which had hung pendent during the chase, was removed by a pair of scissors after the fox was dead.The following is another instance of the persevering strength and spirit of foxhounds:—

A gentleman of the name of Pearson, residing in Essex, had a couple and a half of young and newly-entered hounds. One day they accidentally followed him in his ride, and strayed into a large covert by the roadside, and presently found something which they eagerly hunted. After trying a long time to halloo them off, Mr. Pearson proceeded to Colchester, where his business detained him some hours. Upon his return he heard them in the covert, and found, by some people at work by the side of it, that they had continued running during his absence, and had driven a fox over the field in which they were at work backward and forward several times. Mr. Pearson got as near to them as possible, continuing to give them every encouragement. After hunting the fox a long time in the covert he at last broke, and was killed after a run of some miles. The time these hounds were hunting was seven hours. Hounds have even been known to have continued a chase for ten hours, great part of the time being hard running. A fox was once unkennelled near Boroughbridge in Yorkshire, at twenty-seven minutes past nine, and except half-an-hour taken up in bolting him from a rabbit-burrow, the hounds had a continued run until fourteen minutes past five in the evening, when they killed the fox in good style. During this space of nearly eight hours of most severe running, several horses died in the field, and others were severely injured.

A hound, the property of Mr. Teasdale of Ousby, Cumberland, during a storm, took the quest of a fox, which he pursued for the extraordinary space of thirty hours, four of which were run within view of some miners, who were employed upon Dalton Fell. The dog and fox were at that time running round the bottom of a hill. The arch dog, still keeping on the side of Reynard which led to his clift in the rock, at last came up to him; but being so much exhausted by his toilsome chase, he was unable to make him his prey for some time, and they lay as if lifeless together. The miners then made up to his assistance; but so ardent was his desire to finish Reynard himself, that he would not suffer them to come near till he had destroyed him.

A foxhound bitch, in the middle of a chase, was taken in labour, and brought forth a puppy. Ardour for the pursuit, united to attachment for her progeny, induced her to snatch it up in her mouth, and follow her companions, with whom she soon came up, and in this interesting situation she continued the whole day,—a discredit to the huntsman, and all who joined in the pursuit, to allow the poor animal to undergo so violent an exercise under such circumstances.

In order to account for the power of endurance which foxhounds are known to possess, it should be mentioned that their strength is very great. A well-bred hound has been known to measure as much round the arm of the fore-leg as a moderate-sized horse does below the knee. I was assured of this fact by a well-known huntsman, and it may serve in some measure to account for the following instance of undeviating perseverance in a foxhound, related by Mr. Daniel in his Supplement to his "Rural Sports."

The circumstance took place in the year 1808, in the counties of Inverness and Perth, and perhaps surpasses any length of pursuit known in the annals of hunting. On the 8th of June in that year, a fox and hound were seen near Dunkeld in Perthshire, on the high road, proceeding at a slow trotting pace. The dog was about fifty yards behind the fox, and each was so fatigued as not to gain on the other. A countryman very easily caught the fox, and both it and the dog were taken to a gentleman's house in the neighbourhood, where the fox died. It was afterwards ascertained that the hound belonged to the Duke of Gordon, and that the fox was started on the morning of the 4th of June, on the top of those hills called Monaliadh, which separate Badenoch from Fort Augustus. From this it appeared that the chase lasted four days, and that the distance traversed from the place where the fox was unkennelled to the spot where it was caught, without making any allowances for doubles, crosses, &c., and as the crow flies, exceeded seventy miles.It is a curious fact, that if a foxhound is taken for the first time into a new and strange country, and he is lost, when he returns to his kennel he does so across fields where he had never been before, and not by roads along which he had been taken out. A gentleman who kept foxhounds had an opportunity of observing this. His house and kennel were on the banks of a river, and a new hound accompanied the pack, which went across a bridge near the kennel. He was lost, and came back over the fields direct upon the kennel, and howled when he arrived on the banks of the river. We know but little of the peculiar instinct which thus enables dogs to find their way across a strange country.

Let me here give an anecdote that was communicated to me by the brother of the gentleman to whom it occurred. This gentleman was a rigid Roman Catholic, and his constant companion was a foxhound. As soon as the forty days of Lent began, this dog left his master and came to the house of my informant, some miles distant, where he found food to his liking, and stayed with him during Lent, at the end of which he returned to his owner. He must have measured time very accurately, and has continued the practice for some years.

In the year 1813 some hounds belonging to his late Majesty, George III., were sold to Mr. Walker, of Mitchell Grove, near Worthing. A few weeks after their arrival at that place, one couple of them were sent in a stage-waggon to Dr. Willis, then living near Stamford in Lincolnshire. The wagon went through London, and from thence to Dr. Willis's seat. However surprising it may appear, one of these dogs, in less than a month after he had left the kennel near Windsor, found his way back to it. It might be supposed that in this length of time all recollection would have ceased, but such we have seen was not the case.

The circumstance which happened to the late Duke of Northumberland's pack proves the foxhound's eagerness after his game. In 1796 the hounds ran a fox into a very large furze-cover near Alnwick, called Bunker's Hill, where he was lost in an earth which no one knew of. Upon the dogs coming to the kennel two couple and a half of the best of them were missing, and not returning that night, it was thought they had found a fox, and had gone off by themselves in pursuit of him. Several men were sent in search of them to all the earths and crags for twenty miles round, but no tidings could be gained of them. The course where the fox was lost was then searched, and the earth discovered, and in digging about two yards deep, one dog was found; several yards further three more, fast in the ground; and two yards deeper the fifth was dug up. They were all dead.

It is well known to those who served in the Peninsular War, that the late Lord Hill kept a pack of foxhounds while he commanded a division of the army. During a period of repose a fox was unkennelled in the neighbourhood of Corja, in Spain. The run was severe for the space of thirty minutes, when the fox, being sharply pressed by the leading hounds, leaped down a precipice of sixty yards perpendicular. Seven couple of the hounds immediately dashed after him, six couple of which were killed on the spot. The remainder of the pack (twenty-two couple) would probably have shared the same fate, had not the most forward riders arrived in time to flog them off, which they did with difficulty, being scarcely able to restrain their impetuosity. The fox was found at the bottom, and covered with the bodies of the hounds.

I might have hesitated to mention the following fact, had it not been witnessed by some well-known sportsmen of the present day.

During a severe chase, and towards the termination of it, when the fox was in view, another fox was seen, to the astonishment of the forward riders, running in the middle of the pack of hounds, perfectly unnoticed by them. It is supposed that the dogs ran over this fox, who, finding himself in the midst of them, probably thought it the safest and wisest plan he could pursue to continue with them till he had an opportunity of making his escape.

In relating anecdotes of foxhounds it is almost unavoidable not to mention fox-hunters, and we know not how we can give to our readers a better notion of the stirring spirit and devotion to their sport, distinguishing them beyond all other sportsmen, than by offering some extracts from the pen of the late Colonel Cook, a master of hounds, beloved by all who knew him, and venerated by those who hunted with him.

Hounds will not work through difficulties, nor will they exert themselves in that killing sort of manner when they are out of blood. If after all you should, owing to ill-luck and bad weather, be in want of it, the best way is to leave an earth open in a country where you can spare a fox, and where you can without much trouble dig him, give him to the hounds on the earth, and go home. But whatever you do, never turn out a bag-fox; it is injurious to your hounds, and makes them wild and unsteady: besides, nothing is more despicable, or held in greater contempt by real sportsmen, than the practice of hunting bag-foxes. It encourages a set of rascals to steal from other hunts; therefore keep in mind, that if there were no receivers there would be no thieves. What chiefly contributes to make fox-hunting so very far superior to other sports is the wildness of the animal you hunt, and the difficulty in catching him. It is rather extraordinary, but nevertheless a well-known fact, that a pack of hounds, which are in sport and blood, will not eat a bag-fox. I remember hearing an anecdote (when I was in Shropshire many years ago) of the late Lord Stamford's hounds, which I will relate to you as I heard it. Lord Forester, and his brother, Mr. Frank Forester, then boys, were at their uncle's for the holidays. A farmer came to inform them a fox had just been seen in a tree. All the nets about the premises were collected, and the fox was caught; but the Squire of Wiley, a sportsman himself, and a strict preserver of foxes, sent the fox immediately to Lord Stamford by one of his tenants, that he might be informed of the real circumstance. The next day the hounds were out, and also the Squire's tenant; they had drawn some time without finding, when the farmer reminded his Lordship of the fox caught. 'Do you think,' said he, 'I will allow my hounds to hunt a bag-fox? I should never be forgiven by my huntsman!' At last, after drawing several coverts without finding, his Lordship gave his consent (but it was to be kept a great secret), and the bag was to be touched upon the ground in a line for a covert they were going to draw, to have the appearance of a disturbed fox, and the fox to be turned down in it.

On going to covert, a favourite hound, called Partner, feathered on the scent. The huntsman exclaimed in ecstacy, 'Old Partner touches on him; we shall certainly find in the next covert.' They found the bag-fox, and had a tolerable run; but when they killed him, not a hound would eat him! 'Now, Sir,' said his lordship to the farmer, 'you have deceived the huntsman and the field, but you cannot deceive my hounds.'Next to turning out bag-men, lifting of hounds is the most prejudicial. They should seldom be taken 'off their noses,' nothing is gained by it in the end; hounds that are seldom lifted will kill more foxes in the course of a season than those that frequently are. Some years ago, when hunting with the Duke of Grafton's hounds in Suffolk, they came to a check all in a moment, at a barn near some cross-roads; they were left alone, and made a fling of themselves, in a perfect circle, without hitting the scent; many gentlemen exclaimed, 'It is all over now, Tom; the only chance you have is to make a wide cast.' 'No,' answered the huntsman, 'if the fox is not in that barn, my hounds ought to be hung.'

Dick Foster, the whipper-in, now huntsman to Mr. Villebois (and a very good one he is), was ordered to dismount and see if he could discover the fox; he returned and said he was not there.' Tom Rose still was positive; at last he was viewed on a beam in the barn, and they killed him, after a further run of about a mile. I mention this trivial circumstance to show you clearly, that if the hounds had been hurried up either of the roads on a wide cast, made by an ignorant huntsman, the fox would inevitably have been lost.

Were I to have some sporting friends coming to see my hounds in the field, I should prefer going away close at him for twenty minutes, then a short check, to bring the hounds to a hunting scent, and a quick thing at last, and run into him, in order that my friends might be convinced the hounds could hunt as well as run; for of this I am certain, if they cannot do both, they merit not the name of foxhounds.