HUNTING HORNS AND HUNTING CRIES
CHAPTER XXIII
TO the hunting man there is no music on earth to compare with the sound of a well-blown horn, and the cry of the hounds as they break covert on a bright November morning. To-day the huntsman usually carries a short, straight, copper horn, ten inches or under, in length. In olden times, however, hunting horns were much more cumbersome affairs, and horn music played a conspicuous part in the chase. In primeval days horns were used for purposes of sport and war. They were formed from the bones of animals, and in the case of coast-dwelling tribes, shells of various kinds were made to serve the same purpose. Animal horns were likewise used, and the porters on safari in Africa to-day often blow antelope horns. The same thing occurs in the southern States of America, where cow-horns are still used by the local fox-hunters. As time went on these crude instruments were improved upon, metal was brought into use, and horns were provided which afforded a wider field for the hunter’s musical abilities. Elephant’s tusks, often richly engraved and mounted in metal, were regularly used in France, such horns being known as “oliphants.” They were in general use until the time of Louis XV., when the circular brass horn was invented by the Marquis de Dampierre. These circular brass horns are to be seen in France to-day.
They were introduced into this country about the same period, but being cumbersome they gained little favour with English huntsmen, and the straight horn soon took their place. In “The Master of Game” written between the years 1406 and 1413 by Edward III’s grandson, Edward, second Duke of York, there is a chapter describing how a hunter’s horn should be “driven.” This chapter is most interesting, and therefore I take the liberty of quoting it here. It says, “There are divers kinds of horns, that is to say, bugles, great Abbots’, hunters’ horns, Ruets (trumpets), small Forester’s horns, and meaner horns of two kinds. That one kind is waxed with green wax and greater of sound, and they be best for good hunters, therefore will I devise how and in what fashion they should be driven. First a good hunter’s horn should be driven of two spans in length, and not much more nor much less, and not too crooked, neither too straight, but that the flue be three or four fingers uppermore than the head, that unlearned hunters call the great end of the horn. And also that it be as great and hollow driven as it can for the length, and that it be shorter on the side of the baldric (the belt on which the horn is carried) than at the nether end. And that the head be as wide as it can be, and always driven smaller and smaller to the flue, and that it be well waxed thicker or thinner according as the hunter thinks that it will sound best. And that it be the length of the horn from the flue to the binding, and also that it be not too small driven from the binding to the flue, for if it be the horn will be too mean of sound. As for horns for fewterers (men who hold the hounds in couples) and wood men, I speak not for every small horn and other mean horn unwaxed be good enough for them.”
The custom of waxing horns was rather curious, but evidently it improved the sound, as the less important horns, carried by foresters and others were considered good enough unwaxed. The length of a horn, i.e., “two spans” was eighteen inches. The bugle of those days was not the army style bugle now in use, but a plain curved horn. These curved horns survived into the eighteenth century, and in the case of John Peel’s horn into the nineteenth. In the eighteenth century small hunting bugles with a single twist were also used. The late Mr. John Foster, Master of the Pen-y-ghent Beagles for over thirty seasons, at one time used a small eighteenth century bugle, which had done service for his ancestors before him. As John Peel was born in 1776 his horn was made probably long before that date. At the time of writing Jim Dalton, the Blencathra huntsman, uses a bugle, but it is a comparatively large affair, like the army bugle.
Gradually the circular and curved horns gave way to the straight horn. At first the latter was much longer than it is to-day. The foot huntsman of the Holcombe Harriers, an old Lancashire pack, carries, or at any rate used to carry, a long straight horn. By degrees horns were cut down until to-day ten inches is the average length. Horn-blowing is really more of a natural gift than an acquired art, although constant practice will as a rule enable the novice to become more or less proficient. No two horns are alike, some being difficult to blow, and others easy. If you happen to drop on one of the latter sorts it pays to treasure it. Frank Gillard, the famous huntsman to the Belvoir, tells in his “Reminiscences” how he picked up a horn of this sort from an old man who at one time hunted hounds in the North of England. He says, “It was a longish copper horn, easy to blow, and full of music.” Presentation horns are usually made of silver, but neither the latter nor German silver gives as good a note as copper. To blow a horn properly lips and teeth should be perfectly sound. Many people, amongst them some huntsmen, cannot blow an ordinary horn. In their case the best substitute is a reed-horn, which can be sounded with a breath. It produces a slightly tinny note, but this is infinitely preferable to listening to a series of horrible sounds which many amateur huntsmen produce. Nothing sounds worse in the hunting field than discordant horn music, and nothing looks worse than an amateur blowing himself black in the face, and succeeding only in producing horrible noises, as of someone in his death agony.
Having got hold of a horn that suits you the next thing is to know what calls to blow. At the time “The Master of Game” was written and later, horn-blowing was an art in which hunting people from the nobility downwards prided themselves. In the old days the ostensible idea of horn music was to enlighten the field as to what was going on, and the majority of the calls had no application to the hounds as far as directing the latter was concerned. The country was then heavily afforested, and woodland hunting was the order of the day. The horn was then used, as Twici says, that “Each man who is around you, who understands Hunting, can know in which point you are in your sport by your blowing.” The French compassed horn is capable of sounding twelve distinct notes, and on it can be sounded more or less elaborate tunes. The straight horn on the other hand sounds but one note, the different calls being obtained by varying the length and frequency of the note. This can be done of course also with the reed horn, with the exception of the long swelling note to “call hounds away,” and for this quite a good substitute can be sounded on the reed instrument.
The chief sounds on the hunting horn were named as follows: a Mote, a single note, long or short. A recheat consists of four notes blown three times with an interval between each four, thus, “Tararara, tararara, tararara.” It was also preceded or followed by a Mote or single note. The stag was the premier beast of chase in those days, and so when the huntsman viewed his stag he blew a Mote followed by a recheat after which he sounded two Motes to call the hounds. It was something like the present day “gone away,” tarara, tarara, tarararararara.
The Parfet was blown when hounds were on the right line, and was a somewhat complicated call.
The Forlonge was a signal that the quarry was far in front of hounds or that a few couple had got away alone with their stag.
The Prise consisting of four Motes was blown when a hunted stag had been killed. Four Motes were first sounded, then a second four a little longer drawn out.
The Menee was blown at the hall-door on the return of the huntsmen. The Master first blew four Motes, after which the field joined in with their horns, keeping time together. Horn music in these modern days has been very much cut down. Sometimes you hear nothing but a single monotonous note blown all day, or a few calls seldom repeated. Hunting in the open there is of course but little real need for a variety of horn music, such as our French friends use in their woodland hunting. In the big French forests it is impossible to ride right up to hounds, but by means of the horn information is conveyed to the followers who are familiar with the various calls. In extensive English woodlands it is quite easy to get left when hounds break covert, and a few simple and easily understood calls would obviate all this, and perhaps revive to some extent an interest in horn music.
Of modern calls we have a single note when hounds are off to draw, and the “gone away” when a fox breaks covert. Then on a scent the huntsman may perhaps “double the horn,” and when hounds are eating their fox he sounds the “rattle.” At the end of the day he may blow a long note or several short ones followed by a long one, to warn the field that hounds are going home.
Without expecting the hunt servants to be armed with horns to blow elaborate measures such as the French “fanfare de l’equipage,” there are a few calls that might usefully be added to those now in vogue.
In addition to the old-time calls already mentioned there are others which were at one time in regular use. Of these one or two are suited to present day requirements. There is the “Straking from covert to covert” in two windes, which would let the field know that the huntsman was drawing on after a covert had been drawn blank. The call “For a fox gone to ground; if to dig” also has its place to-day; as well as the “Call for the terriers at the earth.” The “Call away; if not to dig” would likewise prove useful.
In the Southern and Western States of America cow horns are still used by the local hunters who own scratch packs. These horns have been handed down from generation to generation and are greatly prized by their owners, particularly as regards their tone and quality. Field trials for hounds are regularly held in America, and one often hears a score or more of cow horns being blown at the end of the day by the owners of the canine competitors. The tones of all these horns are different, and the hounds show no hesitation in going to the calls of their individual Masters.
Closely allied with horn music are hunting cries. The hound language used in early days was much akin to the same terms employed in France to-day. The cry “Tally-ho” is of French origin. At the Curee, or rewarding of the hounds, the bowels or guts were held up on a large wooden fork, the huntsman at the same time halloing to the hounds with cries of “Tiel haut,” or “Lau, lau!” The tit-bits were then thrown to them. This practice was called “giving them the forhu.” Forthuer means to halloa loudly, therefore it is possible that the modern term of giving the hounds the halloa is derived from it. Not until the eighteenth century does the word “Tally-ho” occur at all frequently in hunting literature.
In cheering hounds to one which had struck the right line the cry would be “Oyez, a Ringwood, (or whatever the hound’s name happened to be) oyez, assemble a Ringwood,” which translated means “Hark to Ringwood, hark, get on to him.”
To encourage the limer when drawing for a stag, the cry was “Ho moy, ho moy;” while “Avaunt, sire, avaunt” signifies “get away forward, sir, get away forward.” “Swef, mon amy, swef” corresponds to our “Steady there, steady.”
In mediæval times the knowledge of venery was as complete as it is to-day, and in some matters connected with the chase, even more so. Huntsmen and others connected with the Hunt prided themselves on their sporting abilities from the proper “undoing” or breaking-up of a deer to the reading of signs and the proper blowing of the many and various calls employed in the chase. To-day hunting is still a popular pursuit, but the majority of those who follow hounds are by no means as well up in the science of the sport as were their ancestors who chased the stag in the old English woodlands.
