IN THE SHIRES

CHAPTER VI

IN the Shires, where the fox is closely preserved, he has few enemies beyond the hounds. Food is plentiful and near at hand, and in spring he has no great distance to go in search of a mate. He is bred and reared within sound of human habitations, and his life is spent more or less in the midst of civilisation. The result is, he shows comparatively little fear of man, and is less easily headed in the hunting field than his relations which inhabit wilder districts. In comparison with the hill-fox of the north, he leads a pampered existence.

Years ago, even the Shires were unenclosed, and coverts were few and far between. Foxes too were much less plentiful, and scattered over a larger area. Game preserving was then unheard of, and individual foxes had wider beats, for they often had to travel long distances, both in search of food, and on love-making expeditions in spring. The supply of foxes, meagre though it was, consisted of wild, healthy animals, and disease was unknown. The fox of the Shires was then much more akin to his mountain-bred cousin than he is to-day, and individual foxes often provided extremely long runs.

In the course of time, the country became more and more enclosed. The old, slow style of fox-hunting gave way to the modern, quick method, and foxes were imported to augment the local stock. Coverts were planted for Reynard’s special benefit, and everything was done to make the countryside attractive to foxes. The consequence was, the stock increased tremendously, and that dread scourge mange began to make its appearance. This was owing to the importation of diseased foxes from abroad, transported in filthy crates. The original stock of foxes gradually became crossed with the new, to the detriment of their size, courage, and stamina. As the stock increased, in-breeding naturally followed, until to-day the fox of the Shires is a smaller, redder, and less enterprising animal than his relations in the north. With the advent of intensive game preservation, difficulties arose between shooting and hunting interests. Vixens mysteriously disappeared, and cubs were reared by hand, often in extremely filthy surroundings. The result was, the older vixens, so vital to the proper education of the cubs, became practically extinct in certain districts, and to-day there are countries where a genuine wild fox is hardly ever killed. Luckily such countries are few and far between, but they do exist, and the sport the foxes afford is naturally poor.

With the enclosure of the country, and the appearance of conveniently placed coverts, the fox of the Midlands changed his habits to some extent. In the old days, Reynard usually had to travel far and fast in order to reach some point he had in mind, whereas to-day in certain districts he can run from covert to covert, and hounds find a difficulty in sticking to his line, owing to the presence of fresh foxes. As a well known Midland M.F.H. once said: “If you run a fox more than ten minutes in this country, the chances are that he is another.” As far as the riding part of the business is concerned, it matters little how often hounds change, so long as they keep on running, and to-day most of the longest runs are generally the result of one or more such changes.

The more foxes you have, especially in an enclosed country like the Shires, the less ground will each individual fox know, and the less chance you have of bringing off a really good hunt with one fox as pilot from start to finish.

In his general habits, the fox of the Midlands differs little from his cousin of the mountains. A fox is a fox wherever you find him, and he is well able to accommodate himself to his surroundings. In the Shires, foxes are apt to be less wary than those which inhabit a non-hunting country, for, with the exception of the hounds, they have few if any enemies, and do not require to be so constantly on the alert as the hill-fox, against whom continual warfare is waged. The low-country fox leads an easy and somewhat artificial existence, until such time as the hounds catch him, or his cunning enables him to keep clear of danger altogether. When the end comes he is but paying the price for the privileged existence of himself and his kind.

In an ordinary enclosed country, the majority of the foxes lie in covert. Occasionally a fox is found in a hedgerow, or in a furrow of a ploughed field, but the plantations are the chief harbour. No matter how small a covert may be, so long as it contains snug lying, and is free from disturbance, a fox or foxes will sooner or later take up their abode there.

In the old days, when the country was unenclosed, the woods were generally large and wide apart. To suit modern conditions, more coverts were required, set nearer together and of less acreage. In the Shires, many such coverts were planted for the benefit of foxes. To keep a covert quiet, the fences should be thick and impenetrable, and the under growth of the same nature. A close growing thorn or gorse covert will keep out prowling curs and idle humans, and affords perfect protection for foxes, which can creep about inside it. Neither dogs or men are fond of penetrating thorny growth, and so they think twice before attempting to disturb coverts of this nature. Fox coverts should be carefully looked after, more particularly the fences. Thorns and grass grow well together, and make the best of harbour for foxes, but the sticks should never be chopped down and laid, as this plan leads to quantities of rotten thorns lying about, which are decidedly injurious to hounds’ feet. Young thorns should be topped, otherwise they will not grow close. When first planted they take a long time to grow, so that it pays to plant gorse as well, which soon springs up into good covert. Old thorns may be chopped down as they quickly spring up again. In ordinary woodlands, where the timber is grown for its beauty or for commercial purposes, there are usually some snug corners which appeal to foxes. Here again the fences should be as thick and impenetrable as possible, for the interior of the average plantation, when once the boundary fence is passed, is much easier of access than the inside of a thorn or gorse covert.

Furze coverts should be cut about every six or seven years, otherwise they become hollow and gradually die away. In some parts of the North country, foxes lie in the thick juniper growth. Juniper, or “savin” as it is locally known, makes a close impenetrable covert, and on some hill slopes there are large areas of it.

Plantations of young larch, spruce, and fir, make the best of fox coverts, for the grass grows well, and the small, closely set trees keep out the draught, and make the covert warm and attractive. On one occasion I saw four foxes goaway from a young larch wood of less than two acres in extent. When larch and spruce begin to reach maturity however, the undergrowth dies away, killed by the pine needles and the drip from the trees. Many larch woods are as bare as a billiard table in the bottom, and afford poor lying for foxes. Where heath or heather grows naturally, or can be persuaded to grow, it makes capital fox shelter. Foxes often lie extremely close in it, and I have many times seen a fox wait till hounds were almost on top of him.

Foxes, like all other furred and feathered wild things, appreciate sun and warmth. A covert which faces south is therefore preferable to one with a northerly aspect. Here and there, small coverts are situated at no great distance from larger ones, and it often happens that litters are bred in the small places, but the latter do not hold foxes in the hunting season. Attracted by the food supply, or the better lying in the bigger woods, the foxes migrate there. Foxes can of course be restored to blank coverts by turning them down in artificial earths, etc., but if genuine wild sport is the object in view, it is a much better plan to keep the coverts quiet and well fenced from intruders, when the wild stock will resort to them and increase in the natural way.

Big woodlands are resorted to by foxes, because they are less disturbed than the smaller coverts. Woodland hunting affords comparatively little scope for galloping and jumping, therefore the average field looks with no kindly eye on the prospect of a day in the big plantations. The latter should however be regularly hunted, and hunted hard, so as to force the foxes to leave and seek sanctuary in more getatable localities. If this is neglected, the woodlands will be crawling with foxes, and many of the smaller and better situated coverts will be drawn blank.

The fox is of course a national asset, for besides affording sport in the Shires and the provinces, he is the cause of an enormous distribution of money throughout the hunting countries of Great Britain. From the time that the local Squires kept their private packs until the present, more and more people have benefitted directly or indirectly from the sport. If we leave out those who actually enjoy the latter, there are few tradesmen, dealers, labourers, and the like, who do not derive a goodly portion of their annual income from business connected with the interests of the Hunt. The presence of hunting in the Shires and other fashionable countries brings an influx of monied people who spend freely, and this money finds its way by devious channels into the pockets of those who are in trade or labour with their hands. The Hunt is a going concern in which much capital is invested, and is therefore respected by the community. Since the institution of the recognised county packs, the more fashionable Hunts have attracted larger and larger fields, until to-day they are at a maximum. This, in addition to the enclosing of the country and the planting of conveniently situated coverts, has had its effect on the fox which is the primary object of the whole business.

As we have already mentioned, in the old days the country was much less enclosed, coverts were larger and further apart, while the stock of foxes was a drop in the ocean compared to what it is now. Those who hunted took a lively interest in the work of hounds and the science of the sport, and could sympathise with the huntsman on a blank day, as well as enjoy the perseverance of himself and his hounds when scent was only moderate and difficulties cropped up.

In the more fashionable countries to-day, only a small percentage of the large number of followers are really interested in hound work or know anything of the science of hunting. The chief aim of most of them appears to be a fast gallop, with plenty of jumping, and blood at the finish. They have no patience with long draws, or slow hunting runs. Seeing that this is the case, more foxes are necessary to provide quick finds, and so the various hunting countries in the Midlands now carry an enormous stock. It is safe to say that the average fashionable pack kills more cubs before regular hunting begins than would have sufficed our ancestors for an entire season. It is popularly supposed that hounds must be “blooded up to the eyes” before they are properly entered, and so twenty or thirty brace of cubs are accounted for. As a matter of fact, this “blooding” business is greatly overdone, despite what the various authorities tell us. Many provincial packs kill very few cubs, while the fell packs do no regular cub-hunting at all, and never actually break up their foxes. The same may be said of many American packs which seldom get blood, yet all the north country hounds and those in America exhibit the greatest keenness to hunt. It is this enormous increase of foxes that is responsible for the decadence of the Midland fox to-day. Cub-hunting is far more necessary to reduce the stock of foxes than to blood hounds, and even after the cubbing business is over the remaining stock is generally far too big in most countries to provide good hunting runs, apart from the galloping and jumping point of view. One has only to read the hunting accounts in the sporting papers to realize how seldom a really fine hunt with a single fox comes off in the fashionable countries to-day. It is usually a case of one or more changes, with hounds run out of scent at the end, and a trot to fresh covert for another quick find.

Now that the “hunt to ride” brigade form so large a portion of the field, they have to be catered for, because when all is said and done they are subscribers, and without subscriptions a Hunt cannot carry on nowadays in the style expected in the Shires. Many people who hunt are apt to describe a day as “rotten,” when perhaps the work of hounds and huntsman has been of the greatest interest to those of the field who understand such matters. We all appreciate a screaming run when it comes off, but those who expect to do nothing but gallop and jump their hardest every day they go out, should associate themselves with draghounds rather than the legitimate chase.

The increase of foxes in the Midlands has led to a certain amount of emulation and jealousy in the total of kills for the season, and big bags of foxes are the result. The latter act in the nature of an advertisement, just as do the shooting man’s on the moor or in covert. Every Master and huntsman of course likes to account for a fair percentage of foxes found and chased, but to-day it would be better if followers hunted more for sport in the strict sense of the term, and a smaller stock of genuine wild foxes was there to provide it.

In the old days people only shot when there was a cessation of hunting owing to frost, whereas to-day the shooting man and the shooting syndicate are a power in the land. There is often a certain amount of antagonism between hunting and shooting interests, particularly as regards the stock of foxes. Game and foxes can be reared together—as has been proved over and over again—without loss of sport to either side, if a tactful attitude is adopted by the devotees of each pursuit. With foxes thick on the ground, keepers endeavour to control them, and this has led to the destruction of the older vixens, and the hand-rearing of cubs, often in extremely unsatisfactory surroundings. The more foxes are pampered and interfered with, the quicker they lose stamina, and the less need there is for them to go far in search of food. Consequently they know little country, and it is useless to expect them to show sport in the true sense of the term. So long however as fashionable fields demand quick finds, short bursts, and plenty of galloping and jumping, the stock of foxes must be there to provide them, and people only have themselves to blame if they prefer such tactics to the more genuine form of hunting with fewer but better foxes.

In the Midlands the fox is accustomed to live in more or less close proximity to human habitations, and when being hunted he often has to face large crowds, not to mention motors on the roads. Owing to this state of affairs he has become more or less brazen, and is more difficult to head than his wilder and heavier relations of the mountains. Like other wild creatures he adapts himself to his surroundings, and thinks nothing of making his way past a crowd of halloing foot people rather than be baulked of his point. He has too every opportunity of shifting his responsibility on to other foxes, and thus often escapes pursuit thanks to the fact that there is a plentiful stock of his relations in the neighbourhood.

In a fashionable country, despite a keen huntsman and the modern quick method of handling hounds, a hunted fox stands a better chance of escape than he would in a more provincial district. Hounds are very apt to be overridden by a modern field, and thus checks occur that are all to the advantage of the fox. Again, despite the fact that motors are usually sent home at once by those who use them to go to the meet, there are others on the roads driven by people who do not ride, but like to see as much of a run as possible from the highway. Motor-cycles too are everywhere, and these, combined with cars, save many a fox by causing hounds to check at a critical moment. It is bad enough for hounds to pick up a line foiled by a crowd of sweating horses, but much harder for them to do so at a point on or near a road, where the air is blue with petrol fumes from motor cycles and cars. The latter are however part and parcel of modern every-day life, and as they have come to stay, Masters of hounds are faced by the problem of how to control them so that they will interfere as little as possible with sport. The fox has already accepted them as every-day incidents in his life, and no doubt he uses them as he does cattle and sheep or manure tainted ground, as an aid to escape, once he has discovered the fact that by running past or near them the pressure of pursuit is slackened. We have seen a hunted otter jump a wall and dive under a waiting motor-car across a road, so it is not surprising that foxes show little fear of approaching such mechanical vehicles.

Despite the annoyance caused by motor-cycles and cars, we should not forget that many people who use them for hunting on the roads may be really keen on sport. A motor cyclist who cannot afford a horse or horses, and perhaps uses his cycle in his business, can hardly be blamed for following hounds on it rather than on foot. The attraction of riding to hounds—apart from hound work and the science of hunting—lies in the pace, and the motorist enjoys this although he cannot indulge in jumping.

To-day as in olden times, whenever you find him, whether in the Shires or the most provincial country, the fox is the cherished object of pursuit, and so we may conclude this chapter with Egerton Warburton’s well-known lines.