BY

LORD WILLOUGHBY DE BROKE

No Master of Foxhounds, alive or dead, has a greater right to be heard than Mr. Thomas Smith. “The proof of the pudding is in the eating,” and though it is not altogether true that the proof of the ability to show sport is the number of Foxes’ noses on the kennel door, the fact that Mr. Smith killed ninety Foxes in ninety-one days’ hunting in a Country which has no great reputation as a scenting country, is a piece of evidence in favour of his knowledge of woodcraft, and of his skill in applying it, which cannot be gainsaid, the more particularly when we take into account the epoch during which this remarkable feat was achieved. It is true that Mr. Smith hunted Hounds when the modern system of getting away close behind the Fox, and trying to burst him, had superseded the system that prevailed before 1750 of dragging up to the Fox and trying to hunt him down at the end of a long chase with Hounds that would have been beaten for pace in the first mile by those of Mr. Osbaldiston and Mr. Smith. But much of the contemporary evidence goes to show that Foxes were wilder in Mr. Smith’s time in the sense that they probably had to travel long distances for their food, as there were fewer small coverts than exist to-day. Consequently there were fewer Foxes. It is true that these conditions were favourable to the Hounds in that their chance of changing Foxes was diminished. On the other hand the multiplication of small Fox coverts with artificial earths that has proceeded in the last fifty years makes the killing of a lot of Foxes, especially during the Cub-hunting, an easier matter than in the days of Mr. Thomas Smith. If the artificial earth is securely stopped late at night, and skilfully opened at the right moment in a morning’s Cub-hunting, when the Cubs are beginning to wonder what to do, they are sure to creep into the earth, and the eating of one or more of them is reduced to a certainty. For this reason the counting of noses is not in these days a supreme test of the capacity of the Huntsman and the Hounds, unless all noses are written off and not allowed to count until after November 1st, when there is not so much opportunity for digging. But each of Mr. Smith’s ninety Foxes brought to hand probably represented a really hard day’s work, even though he omits to state how many he killed above ground at the end of good runs. In this connection it should not be forgotten that in these illuminating pages he has confessed himself, indirectly perhaps, to be the complete Master of the use of the spade and the terrier.

But he was surely the complete Master of all other branches of Foxhunting craft. In the work which is now republished by Mr. Edward Arnold he puts into the mouth of various Foxes their experiences of being hunted by various Hounds and Huntsmen. His method, perhaps a trifle fanciful, is attractive in the highest degree to all lovers of wild animals, and the careful reader will find the Fox himself explaining the mistakes on the part of the Huntsman which allowed the Fox to baffle him. We know of no writing that explains the point of view of the Fox except this work, and that of Mr. Masefield. But it is no disparagement of Mr. Masefield to say that his “Reynard the Fox” is based upon his poetical talent and knowledge of the countryside, while Mr. Smith’s fancy is based upon the lifelong experience of an enthusiast who has carefully studied the whole Art of the Chase, and thought out the application of the Science of Foxhunting to each particular phase and incident of the run.

The story of each Fox is full of interest, and it is not possible within the limits of this introduction to explore each situation. There are, however, one or two remarks in “Pytchly’s Story” which seem to extract the essence of the successful pursuit of the Fox. Now this essence is contained in the physiological truth that the vast majority of good runs are made, and stout Foxes killed, by the Hounds following the line, first by their sense of smell, and secondly by their power to run fast enough and long enough to catch the Fox, provided he does not go to ground. Each moment the Hounds are not on the line is a moment wasted, which at a later stage in the run will probably develop into minutes, and ultimately spell defeat. Brilliant victories, and much galloping and jumping may be achieved by means of the Huntsman tearing off to a point without a scent, but ninety-nine times out of a hundred this kind of speculation ends in disaster. Mr. Smith contrives to criticize Mr. Osbaldiston’s Hounds through the mouthpiece of “Pytchly” for overrunning the scent “owing to their great courage, which, in breeding of them, seemed to have been more attended to than the nose”; and “Pytchly” goes on to say:—“Luckily for us (the Foxes) the hunters fell into the mistake of trying to make what they called a flying pack....” Such Hounds as would not go the pace without a good scent were always drafted, although, when there was a good scent, this sort could puzzle even the fast riders to keep with them. “Partly to this cause I attribute my having lived to my great age.” “Pytchly” goes on to say that he often saved his life by going to ground in a drain and the Hounds being carried past the drain by their own mettle, and by their being too hardly pressed by the horsemen. This good Fox also tells us that he saved his brush more than once by the whole establishment posting forward for a view on his entering a woodland in the course of a run, so much so that by this system men seemed to imagine that a Fox could be run down by fast riding, and that “whippers-in are nearly all that is wanted.” This practice, as well as the practice of giving up the hunted Fox and going to find another, was hailed by “Pytchly” as the means of his salvation. He describes his alarm when he heard Mr. Smith who was hunting his own Hounds, say to some gentleman who suggested that he should leave the cold scent, and find another Fox:—“I shall hunt this as long as a Hound will own the scent. We shall get up to him by and by and kill him too.” “Pytchly,” with his charmed life eluded on this occasion even the great Mr. Smith himself, by getting to ground and pushing past a fresh Fox who was lying comfortably in the earth, and who was no doubt dug out and eaten with “ten mile point honours.”

“Pytchly’s Story” reveals the very foundation of Foxhunting, which is to stick to the line. There are indeed two opinions about nose. Some Foxhounds may have, like some human beings, a more sensitive organ of smell than others; if this can be discovered in a Foxhound, combined with tongue, speed, intelligence, perseverance, and constitution, all contained in a frame of sufficient symmetry, then that Foxhound should be bred from freely. But the probability is, that while some Hounds may have keener noses than others the vast majority have sufficiently serviceable noses provided they are encouraged, or even allowed, to use them. There is no doubt whatever that where the Fox scores against the Hounds is by gaining time when he turns. It is the turn that tells. If all Foxes that were found went straight ahead, many more would be killed. The proof of this is that even on a day when scent is poor, Hounds always run fast when the Fox goes straight to an earth or drain. He knows the way. He goes straight through all his well-known smeuses in the fences, and the leading Hounds have no difficulty, his scent being in their faces all the way.

When he is not heading immediately for a drain, he is nearly sure to turn sooner or later, and if when he turns, the horsemen ride the Hounds past the point, and the Huntsman aggravates the difficulty by picking up the Hounds and setting out on a casting experiment before they have time to get their heads down, the most sensitive noses in the world will be doing no more good than if they were plunged into the oatmeal and flesh in the Kennel trough. The proper place for a Foxhound’s nose is on the ground. No one knew this better than Mr. Smith, and the lesson could not be expressed more tersely than it is in this book by his friend “Pytchly.”

This does not mean to say that Hounds should never be handled at all. If a pack of Hounds were literally left entirely to themselves day after day they might gradually lose the faculty of trying for themselves unless there was a good holding scent. Hounds take a very great deal from the mere presence and moral support of their Huntsman, and a certain point arrives when they need his actual guidance after they have done trying for themselves. The Huntsman who can accurately fix this point is the Huntsman they want.

After reading “Pytchly’s Story” it is impossible to believe that Mr. Smith did not appreciate and act upon the moral that it points, but actually went to the other extreme of trying to hunt the Fox himself regardless of his Hounds. Yet Nimrod in his “Hunting Reminiscences” would have us believe that he did. After characteristically beginning his appreciation of Mr. Smith by describing his horsemanship, he then goes on to say that as a Huntsman he was wild, and that there was too much of the man, and too little of the Hounds to satisfy a lover of hunting. He would go away, says Nimrod, with the leading Hounds, caring nothing for the body of the pack, with his eye “forward to some point which his intuitive knowledge of the line Foxes take induced him to believe his had taken; and six times in ten he was right.” Frankly, but with great respect to Nimrod, we do not believe it; and it should be remarked that even Nimrod himself only credits Mr. Smith with six correct flashes of intuition in every ten attempts. Invaluable as are the writings of “Pomponius Ego” as “costume pieces,” even as historical references, it is open to doubt if he was really a reliable critic of the Huntsman’s Art. He certainly makes Mr. Osbaldiston do some queer things in his imaginary description of a day with the Quorn Hounds in 1826, such, for instance, as view-holloaing with his finger in his ear before a single Hound had opened in covert. But we will let that pass.

It is just possible that he may have been out with Mr. Smith on one of those days when even the soundest of Huntsmen may appear to be taking liberties with the Hounds; but it is quite certain that Mr. Smith could not have consistently performed in the manner described by Nimrod during the season when he killed ninety Foxes in ninety-one days’ hunting. Six to ten is a different ratio.

The phrase “the intuitive knowledge of the run of a Fox” has been somewhat freely used by more than one writer. Does any man really possess it? Can the human intelligence really get inside the instincts of the Fox and perceive exactly what he is thinking about, except on occasions which are obvious to us all? The probability is that when the Huntsman does something which is set down to his intuitive knowledge of the run of a Fox he is acting naturally and almost, if not quite unconsciously, upon a mass of accumulated experience that many seasons’ hunting has fixed upon his brain, which he can produce on demand when the situation arises. Knowledge, experience, memory, and the power of drawing on them and applying them may very likely pass for what people call intuition.

Those who would understand the Science of Foxhunting cannot do better than read The Life of a Fox in conjunction with The Diary of a Huntsman by the same Author. Professor Huxley said somewhere that Science is Organized Commonsense. The Science of Foxhunting is eminently a matter of Commonsense, and there is no wiser exponent of it than Mr. Thomas Smith. So far from relying on “intuition” he has the unique distinction of being the only writer who has put upon paper a definite recipe for a cast in the form of a Map, together with the whole process of reasoning by which it is justified. The Diary of a Huntsman, in which this Map appears, is a vindication of the importance of following certain rules. The departure from these rules on the part of various Huntsmen is the cause of the satisfaction expressed at the symposium of “Wily,” “Pytchly,” “Warwick,” “Sandy” and all the other Foxes who appear in this Volume.