third, the rest in the distance. After a couple of fences comes another yawner-a ditch, with a fence in the centre. Heretic does not quite like the look of it; a gentle touch of the colonel's whip over the nose keeps his head straight, and over he flies. Barbeau takes it splendidly, but bursts his girths: next comes Guardsman, and all the rest follow, save Waverley and Prince Charlie, who are hors de combat. "Any odds on Heretic?" shout the crowd, as the gallant colonel lands his horse over a ditch in the winning field. Barbeau shortly follows, and Guardsman, who has been in and out of the ditch cleverly, is placed third. The rest nowhere! All, however, took the last leap except "Nancy," who would not "gang with her rider" over the ditch, and who was so dead beat that she ran her nose against the opposite side of it, throwing her rider, who was not hurt. We next day visited the kennel of the Montreal fox-hounds, which are the only regularly appointed pack on the whole continent of North America. They were established in 1829, by a party of about forty gentlemen, associating themselves together under the name of the Montreal Hunt. For some years they had many difficulties to contend with, but at the period we write of their spirits and perseverance had been fully rewarded, and a most efficient pack of hounds was the result. Of the country it is necessary to offer a few remarks. Although not quite so open as a sportsman of the old world might wish it, in the neighbourhood of Montreal it is highly cultivated, and in the most part cleared of the primeval "bush," as the forests are called. The fencing is nearly all timber: now and then you meet with a loose stone wall; but the principal fence is an awkward sort of a customer called a "boulein." It is composed of three or four large trunks of the cedar tree, placed one above the other, supported at either end by short cross-pieces, to which they are pinned with strong wooden pegs. There is sometimes a ditch on each side, and the whole presents as formidable a leap-fence as can possibly be imagined. A Leicestershire ox-fence will give the reader some idea of the "boulein," and when the country rides deep, woe to the man that does not get his and his horse's steam up sufficiently to clear it at a fly; the slightest mistake must end in a severe fall. As the regular hunting season had not begun, we had an opportunity of judging of the merits of the hounds; but they were in splendid condition, the kennel in first-rate order, and the men well mounted. Canada can never be considered as a good hunting country, and yet by all accounts the Montreal fox-hounds have had some splendid runs. Most heartily do we wish them every success; but if this favoured colony cannot boast of the "noble science" in perfection, it is not behind our own country in fishing and shooting. Elk-hunting and la chasse aux ours are fine sports, unknown to us. Cricketing, too, has been carried on with great spirit throughout the provinces: the first cricket-club was established by the late Duke of Richmond; they played their matches upon the plains of Abraham, and carried on a very different game of "ball" from that which has rendered that spot so famous. Racket and tennis-courts are also to be found in the principal garrison towns. Race-meetings are constantly held, and there are few of the manly English sports that are not patronized in Canada. In short, if any "used up" sportsman of our own tight little island is anxious for change of air and scene, let him proceed to this our North American colony; there he will find boating, shooting, racing, hunting, steeple-chasing, skating, sledging, cricketing, rackets and tennis, a splendid country, a most hospitable welcome, and as few of the desagrémens of travelling as possible. Occasionally, it is true, his bones will be tolerably well shaken upon some of the highways and byways, and he will find some genuine industrious fleas at work upon his body; but these are annoyances to be met with in almost every country. In the aggregate he will find many comforts, and be enabled, with me, to parody the line of Byron, and exclaim, "Canada! with all thy faults, I love thee still!”’ Our excursion is concluded; but we cannot take leave of Canada without expressing a hope that those beautiful provinces may make hasty strides towards the attainment of that prosperity which their soil, climate, and many other natural advantages have so eminently qualified them for enjoying. "As Canada increases in wealth, not only will there be a greater demand for English manufactures, but a still greater trade will be carried on with other countries, thereby giving employment to a greater number of English ships. As Canada also increases in riches, it will be enabled to defray the expenses of its own government, which at present falls so heavily upon the people of Great Britain: neither is there reason to imagine that Canada, if allowed to attain such a state of prosperity, would be ready to disunite herself from our country, so long as she is governed with justice, mildness, and wisdom, for she need but turn towards the United States to be convinced that the great mass of her people are in the possession of as much happiness and real liberty as those of the neighbouring country." The above are the sentiments of one who knows well the subject which he so admirably discusses, and must be evident to all who, like ourselves, have studied the circumstances and resources of this highly-favoured colony. In conclusion, we cannot part with the inhabitants of the new world, without one farewell benediction. In the United States, where we passed many agreeable days, we saw in the mass of Americans liberal and enquiring minds, men possessing that independence of spirit which is their birthright. If occasionally we saw an exception to the rule, as in the case of Mr. Jefferson Drakelaw, the Yankee dealer, we were not illiberal enough to draw general conclusions from isolated premises, or to censure a whole nation for the faults of a few; and certainly do we trust that no circumstance will ever arise to disturb the harmony which now happily exists between the free-born sons of England and America. REMINISCENCES OF A SPORTSMAN IN IRELAND. "Oh, St. Patrick a cuishla! St. Bridget asthore ! In the autumn of the year 183- I was stationed with my regiment in that pleasant portion of her Majesty's dominions in Ireland, well known to the curious geographer as lying "at the back of God speed," when a letter arrived from the sheriff of an adjoining county, requesting the assistance of the military. He had gone out, he said, with a few policemen, to reinforce a gauger; they had succeeded in capturing a still, and were returning quietly home laden with the spoil, when they were attacked by an armed party, the gauger pitched into a lake, the still recaptured, and although he himself was allowed to depart in peace, it was with a civil intimation that if he ever ventured that way again, he would be sent home with as many bullets in his body as there were hairs on his head. As the letter concluded with a moving appeal to the colonel to lose no time in despatching sufficient force to his aid, I received orders to "boot and saddle" directly; and two hours after the arrival of the express, I found myself at the head of twenty stout troopers on the road to "Ballysumahawn"-a name, by the way, which three months residence in the west barely enabled me to pronounce. It was late in the evening of the third day, when tired and travelstained we entered the town. As we rode slowly up the street the whole population turned out to gaze on us as we passed, although, if one might judge by their remarks, our appearance was highly displeasing to the natives. "Divle take them !" said one fellow; "as if we had n't enough of peelers and process-servers, but they must send down the sassenach horsemen to massacree us!" "Massacree you is it?" said another; "Naboklish! troth, its little half-a-dozen of the Molly Maguires' 'ud think of scatterin' them to the elements, for all their fine feathers and mustaishous." "Go home to your mother, young man," said a withered old crone to myself, "or be my sowl its Tullahawn's payment you'll get here, and that's more kicks than ha'pence." I certainly began to agree with the latter speaker, as we filed on through the dark, scowling countenances of the mob, and pulled up before a ruinous-looking old police-barrack, where we were informed we must take up our quarters: there was, however, no help for it; so, after seeing the horses put up, and placing a sentry on the stable, lest the people should follow the advice of the "coadjutor" and "smoke us out like rats," I endeavoured to make up for the fatigues 234 REMINISCENCES OF A SPORTSMAN IN IRELAND. of the day, by discussing as good a supper as the wretched place could supply. Day after day rolled on, and still found me at Ballysumahawn. There was nothing to break in on the weary monotony of my existence, for the "Molly Maguires," overawed by the military and a large police force drafted in from the adjoining counties, had taken quietly to getting their harvest assisted by the potheen manufacturers, who were obliged to give up distilling for want of malt. Meantime no orders came for my release, and I began to find the time hang very heavy on my hands. There was no society of any kind to be obtained in the neighbourhood: the landlords were absentees; the rector was in "furrin parts," and well he might, for, except the sexton, there was not a single protestant in his parish; while the priest, a red-hot Maynoother, in a sermon composed expressly for my own benefit, and to which I was compelled to listen, consigned myself and my poor troopers to a latitude which shall be nameless, to the evident delight and satisfaction of his congregation in general, and the undisguised horror and amazement of a very pretty country girl, who crossed herself devoutly, and hurried out of the chapel, not daring to cast a look behind lest the miracle of Father Malash should be performed in her presence, who, as the reverend gentleman informed us by a stamp of his holy foot, "thranslated" thirty heretics into owls. I tried sporting, but without success. The result of one day's hard tramping over bog and mountain was a melancholy curlew, and a mis-begotten jack-snipe, whom fate or his own evil genius had tempted within range; while one of my best dogs, incautiously diving after a wounded mallard, "forgot" to come up, having penetrated into the mysteries of what was technically described to me as a "swally hole," my informant adding, by way of consolation, that "in ancient times St. Patrick had laid the ould sarpint himself in that very spot." With a sigh for the untimely end of my poor spaniel, I replaced my double-barrel in its case, and, as a last resource, endeavoured to procure some books; but even there I was disappointed. An old fly-book, containing some sonnets to "Maria," which a cockney sportsman had left in the hotel, a volume of "Irish Rogues and Rapparees," and "The Life and Conversation of Saint Bridget," were all that my corporal could procure for "love or money.' While a scoundrel that I sent to head-quarters for my own, got drunk on his return, and being informed by a friar that they were heretical productions, magnanimously made a bonfire of them in the middle of the road, and then took sanctuary in the Galteen mountains, where, as I was informed by the sheriff, "I might catch him if I could." I had taken up my usual position one morning on a turf bench outside our temporary barrack, and was impatiently waiting the arrival of Her Majesty's mail, which had been due at least three-quarters of an hour, when the loud blast of a tin horn, and the rush of a legion of hungry curs warned of its approach: on it came at last, drawn by three broken-hearted consumptive-looking jades; the coachman flogging most unmercifully as he neared the hill, to get way on the coach ere it ascended. This feat, however, they were evidently unable to perform the lumbering vehicle paused for a moment, and then rolled slowly back, dragging the miserable horses in one confused heap downwards, till it settled in a deep rut that ran across the road. A dozen savages now ran forward to the assistance of the coachman, some spoking on the wheels, some shouting and hurraing, while others belaboured the wretched horses with stones, sticks, or whatever came soonest to their hands. It was all in vain, however: the poor brutes only answered each blow by a dismal groan, that might have melted the heart of a Cherokee or a Choctaw, but which fell unheeded on the ears of the barbarians around. One by one the outside passengers slowly dismounted, and a simultaneous attack was again commencing, when the coach-door flew open, and a stout middle-aged gentleman, enveloped in great coats, jumped out, and taking the whip from the coachman, with one blow smashed it into shivers on the shoulders of a bare-legged rascal, who had his arm raised to strike one of the horses with a lump of granite about two pounds weight, which he had just picked up off the street. Had the stout gentleman known that the rascal was so "cunning of fence," I verily believe (although he afterwards proved himself a stout soldier), he would have "seen him d-d" before he meddled with him, for the fellow wheeled round like lightning, and although the smart of the blow made him err a little in his aim, he hurled the stone within a hair's breadth of his head, and with such force that after passing through both coach-windows, it struck the coadjutor of the parish, who happened to be passing at the time, on the head, and felled him to the ground. Half-a-dozen women now rushed out of the adjoining houses, and with loud cries and lamentations bore off the luckless coadjutor to the doctors, while the other scoundrels turned all their rage against the gentleman, who, nothing daunted, however, placed his back against the coach, and with a shout well-known in old Trinity, defied them to come on, although the weight of his coats and the number of his opponents would seem to have rendered resistance almost hopeless. It was seven years since I had been at college; but the sight of a good Samaritan thus "fallen among thieves," and the well-remembered signal-cry which had so often brought bold hearts and ready hands around me in my own extremity, was more than my philosophy could withstand, and I hastened to the rescue, although I feel satisfied I should have come off second best, had it not been for three or four troopers, who, hearing their officer was in a scrape, hurried to my assistance: as it was, however, after a skirmish, short, sharp, and decisive, and in which I narrowly escaped being scalped by a blow from a reaping-hook, we remained masters of the street, half-a-dozen caubeens, and a blackthorn stick, which might have been wielded by Eneas himself without any disgrace to his pious fingers. Meantime, the guard, who had been watching the combat with the greatest sang froid, dismounted from his perch, and unharnessing one of the steeds, and taking the mail-bags along with him, rode off, piously observing as he went that "an it plaised Heaven to spare him till he reached the next town, he would send down horses for the coach in the course of the evening." |