LETTER XII

You wish to know, How my warren-hares are caught? They are caught in traps, not unlike to the common rattraps. I leave mine always at the meuses; but they are set only when hares are wanted: the hares, by thus constantly going through them, have no mistrust, and are easily caught. These traps should be made of old wood; and even then it will be some time before they will venture through them. Other meuses must be also left open, lest a distaste should make them forsake the place. To my warren I have about twenty of these traps; though, as the stock of hares is great, I seldom have occasion to set more than five or six, and scarcely ever fail of catching as many hares. The warren is paled in; but I found it necessary to make the meuses of brick; that is, where the traps are placed. Should you at any time wish to make a hare-warren, it will be necessary for you to see one first, and examine the traps, boxes, and stoppers; to all which there are particularities not easy to be described. Should you perceive the hares, toward the end of the season, to become shy of the traps, from having been often caught, it will be necessary to drive them in with spaniels. Should this be the case, you will find them very thick round the warren; for the warren-hares will be unwilling to leave it, and, when disturbed by dogs, will immediately go in.

If you turn them out before greyhounds, you cannot give them too much law; if before hounds, you cannot give them too little; for reasons which I will presently add. Though hares, as I told you before, never run so well before hounds, as when they do not know where they are; yet, before greyhounds, it is the reverse: and your traphares, to run well, should always be turned out within their knowledge: they are naturally timid; and are easily disheartened, when they have no point to make to for safety.

If you turn out any before your hounds (which, if it be not your wish, I shall by no means recommend), give them not much time, but lay on your hounds as soon as they are out of view: if you do not, they will be likely to stop, which is oftentimes fatal. Views are at all times to be avoided, but particularly with trap-hares; for, as these know not where they are, the hounds have too great an advantage over them. It is best to turn them down the wind: they hear the hounds better, and seldom turn again. Hounds for this business should not be too fleet. These hares run straight, and make no doubles: they leave a strong scent, and have other objections, in common with animals turned out before hounds: they may give you a gallop; they will, however, show but little hunting. The hounds are to be hunted like a pack of fox-hounds, as a trap-hare runs very much in the same manner, and will even top the hedges. What I should prefer to catching the hares in traps, would be a warren in the midst of an open country, which might be stopped close on huntingdays. This would supply the whole country with hares, which, after one turn round the warren, would most probably run straight at end. The number of hares that a warren will supply, is hardly to be conceived: I seldom turned out less, in one year, than thirty brace of trap-hares, besides many others killed in the environs, of which no account was taken. My warren is a wood of near thirty acres: one of half the size would answer the purpose perhaps as well. Mine is cut out into many walks: a smaller warren should have only one, and that round the outside of it. No dog should ever be suffered to go into it; and traps should be constantly set for stoats and pole-cats. It is said, that parsley makes hares strong; they certainly are very fond of eating it; it therefore cannot be amiss to sow some within the warren, as it may be a means of keeping your hares more at home.

I had once some conversation with a gentleman about the running of my trap-hares, who said he had been told that catching a hare, and tying a piece of ribbon to her ear, was a sure way to make her run straight—I make no doubt of it; and so would a canister tied to her tail.

I am sorry that you should think I began my first Letter on the subject of hare-hunting in a manner that might offend any of my brother-sportsmen. It was not harehunting that I meant to depreciate, but the country I had hunted hare in. It is good diversion in a good country: you are always certain of sport; and if you really love to see your hounds hunt, the hare, when properly hunted, will show you more of it than any other animal.

You ask me, What is the right time to leave off harehunting? You should be guided in that by the season: you should never hunt after March; and, if the season be forward, you should leave off sooner.

Having now so considerably exceeded the plan that I first proposed, you may wonder if I omit to say anything of stag-hunting. Believe me, if I do, it will not be for want of respect; but because I have seen very little of it. It is true, I hunted two winters at Turin; but their hunting, you know, is no more like ours than is the hot meal we there stood up to eat, to the English breakfast that we sit down to here. Were I to describe their manner of hunting, their infinity of dogs, their number of huntsmen, their relays of horses, their great saddles, great bitts, and jackboots—it would be no more to our present purpose than the description of a wild-boar chase in Germany, or the hunting of jackals in Bengal—C’est une chasse magnifique, et voilà tout. However, to give you an idea of their huntsmen, I must tell you that one day the stag, which is very unusual, broke cover, and left the forest; a circumstance which gave as much pleasure to me as displeasure to all the rest: it put everything into confusion. I followed one of the huntsmen, thinking he knew the country best; but it was not long before we were separated: the first ditch we came to stopped him: I, eager, to go on, hallooed out to him, “Allons, Piqueur, sautez donc.” “Non pardi,” replied he, very coolly,“ c’est un double fossé—je ne saute pas les doubles fossé.” There was also an odd accident the same day, which, as it happened to a great man, even to the king himself, you may think interesting; besides, it was the occasion of a bon mot worth your hearing:—The king, eager in the pursuit, rode into a bog, and was dismounted: he was not hurt: he was soon on his legs, and we were all standing round him. One of his old generals, who was at some distance behind, no sooner saw the king off his horse, than he rode up full gallop to know the cause. “Qu’est-ce que c’est?—qu’est-ce que c’est?” cries the good old general, and in he tumbles into the same bog. Count Kevenhuller, with great humour, replied, pointing to the place, “Voilà ce que c’est!—voilà ce que c’est!”

With regard to the stag-hunting in this country, as I have already told you that I know but little of it, you will, without doubt, think it a sufficient reason for my being silent concerning it.