University of Virginia Library

HAWKING.

Handful of Pleasant Delites.

At an early hour this morning the Hall was
in a bustle, preparing for the sport of the day. I
heard Master Simon whistling and singing a
ditty under my window at sunrise, as he was
preparing some jesses for the hawk's legs. A
hearty breakfast, well flanked by cold meats,
was served up in the great Hall. All the retainers
and hangers on were in motion. The
horses were led up and down before the door;
there was a direful yelping of dogs; some that
were to accompany us eager to set out, and others

that were to stay at home being whipped back
to their kennels. At length there was a general
turning out of the chivalry. The fair Julia was
dressed in a picturesque hunting dress, with a
light plume of feathers in her riding hat. As
she mounted her favourite galloway, I remarked
with pleasure, that old Christy unbent from his
usual crustiness, and hastened to adjust her saddle
and bridle; he touched his jockey cap as she
smiled on him and thanked him, and then looking
round at the other attendants, gave a knowing
motion with his head; in which I read pride
and exultation, at the charming appearance of
his pupil.

Lady Lillycraft had likewise determined to
witness the sport. She was dressed in her
broad white beaver, tied under the chin, and a
riding habit of the last century. She rode her
sleek ambling pony, whose motion was as easy
as a rocking chair; and was gallantly escorted
by the general, who looked not unlike one of
the doughty heroes in the old prints of the battle
of Blenheim.

The parson likewise accompanied her on the
other side; for this was a learned amusement in
which he took great interest; and, indeed, had
given much counsel, from his knowledge of old
customs. At length every thing was arranged,
and off we set from the Hall.

The exercise on horseback puts one in fine
spirits; and the scene was gay and animating.
The young men of the family accompanied Miss
Templeton. She sat lightly and gracefully in
her saddle, her plumes dancing and waving in
the air; and the group had a charming effect as
they appeared and disappeared among the trees,
cantering along with the bounding animation of
youth.

The Squire and Master Simon rode together,
accompanied by old Christy, mounted on Pepper.
The latter bore the hawk on his fist, as he insisted
the bird was most accustomed to him. There
was a rabble rout on foot, composed of retainers
from the Hall, and some idlers from the village,
with two or three spaniels, for the purpose
of starting the game.

A kind of corps de reserve came on quietly
in the rear, composed of Lady Lillycraft, General
Harbottle, the parson, and a fat footman.
Her ladyship ambled gently along on her sleek
pony, while the general, mounted on a tall hunter,
looked down upon her with an air of the most
protecting gallantry. For my part, being no
sportsman, I kept with this last party, or rather
lagged behind, that I might take in the whole
picture, and the parson occasionally slackened
his pace, and jogged on in company with me.

The sport led us at some distance from the
Hall, in a soft meadow reeking with the moist
verdure of spring. A little river ran through it,
bordered by willows, which had put forth their
tender early foliage. The sportsmen were in
quest of herons, which were said to keep about
this stream.

I saw that there was some disputing already
among the leaders of the sport. The Squire,
Master Simon, and old Christy, came every now
and then to a pause, to consult together, like the
field officers of an army; and I saw by certain

motions of the head, that Christy was as positive
as any old wrong headed German commander.

As we were prancing up this quiet meadow,
every sound we made was answered by a distinct
echo, from the sunny wall of an old building
that lay on the opposite margin of the stream.
The circumstance brought to my mind, and I
could not help quoting aloud, the description of
an echo, on Webster's Duchess of Malfy:

Upon hearing this quotation, the parson mentioned
a beautiful appellation which the Jews
had of old for the echo; which they called Bath-kool,
that is to say, “the daughter of the
voice.”[1]

We had not proceeded very far when a flight
of crows that had been regaling themselves in
the meadow, alarmed by the noise we made,
suddenly rose. Old Christy, all in a flurry
from previous disputing and present surprise,
slipped off the hood of the hawk and let her
fly. Immediately there was a bawling, and
shouting, and yelping, and barking, that baffles
all description.

The crows flew screaming in all directions;
while the hawk soared into the air. My attention,
however, was attracted for a time to the
party in the meadow, riding along in the direction
that the bird flew; their bright beaming
faces turned up to the bright skies as they
watched the game; the men on foot scampered
along, looking up and calling out; the dogs
bounding and yelping with joyous sympathy. I
was delighted with the graceful figure of the
fair Julia; her eye beaming as blue as the sky
she was contemplating. Her gallant lover rode
close by her side, and Lady Lillycraft, who
watched them more than the hawk, would every

now and then exclaim “Oh the charming couple!”

I had paused on a rising ground close by her
ladyship, from whence I had a good view of the
sport. The hawk had singled out a quarry from
among the carrion crew. It was in vain Old
Christy called, and whistled, and endeavoured
to lure her down—she paid no regard to him, and
indeed his calls were drowned in the shouts and
yelps of the army of militia that he had brought
into the field.

It was curious to see the efforts of the two
birds to get above each other; one to make the
fatal swoop, the other to avoid it. Now they
crossed athwart a bright feathery cloud, and now
they were against the clear blue sky. I confess,
being no sportsman, I was more interested for
the poor bird that was striving for its life, than
for the hawk that was playing the part of a mercenary
soldier. At length the hawk got the upper
hand and made a rushing stoop at her quarry,
but the latter made as sudden a surge downwards,
and slanting up again evaded the blow,

screaming and making the best of his way for a
dry tree on the brow of a neighbouring hill.
The poor crow, however, began to flag; the
falcon was again getting above him. I felt more
and more interested, when an exclamation from
Lady Lillycraft made me turn my head.

I beheld a complete confusion among the
sportsmen in the little vale below us. They
were gallopping and running towards the edge of
a bank; and I was shocked to see Miss Templeton's
horse gallopping along without his rider.
I rode to the place to which the others were
hurrying, and when I reached the bank, which
almost overhung the stream, I saw at the foot of
it the fair Julia, pale, bleeding, and apparently
lifeless, supported in the arms of her frantic
lover.

In gallopping heedlessly along, with her eyes
turned upwards, she had unwarily approached
too near the bank; it had given way with her,
and she and her horse had been precipitated to
the pebbled margin of the river.

I never saw greater consternation. The captain

was distracted, Lady Lillycraft fainting,
the Squire in dismay, and Master Simon at
his wit's ends. The only one that had real presence
of mind was old Christy, who ran to the
stream, dipped his jockey cap full of water, and
threw some in her face. The beautiful creature
at length showed signs of returning life; she
opened her eyes; looked around her upon the
agonized group, and comprehending in a moment
the nature of the scene, gave a sweet smile,
and putting her hand in her lover's, exclaimed
feebly, “I am not much hurt, Guy!” I could
have taken her to my heart for that single exclamation.
It was found, indeed, that she had
escaped almost miraculously, with a contusion
of the head, a sprained ancle, and some slight
bruises. After her wound was stanched, she
was taken to a neighbouring cottage until a carriage
could be summoned to take her home,
when the cavalcade, which had issued forth so
gayly on this enterprize, returned slowly and
pensively to the Hall.

I had been charmed by the generous spirit

shown by this young creature, who, amidst pain
and danger, had been anxious only to relieve
the distress of those around her. I was gratified,
therefore, by the universal concern displayed
by the domestics on our return. They
came crowding down the avenue, each eager
to render some assistance. The butler stood
ready with some curiously delicate cordial.
The old housekeeper was provided with half a
dozen nostrums prepared by her own hands,
according to the family recipe book, while her
niece, the melting Phoebe, having no other way
of assisting, stood wringing her hands and weeping
aloud.

The most material effect that is likely to follow
this accident, is a little delay of the nuptials,
which were close at hand. Though I
commisserate the impatience of the captain on
that account, yet I shall not otherwise be sorry,
as I shall have a better opportunity of studying
the characters here assembled, with which I
grow more and more entertained.

I cannot but perceive that the Squire is quite

disconcerted at this unlucky result of his hawking
experiment, and this unfortunate illustration of
his eulogy on female equitation. Old Christy,
too, is very waspish; having been sorely twitted
by Master Simon, for having let his hawk fly
at carrion. As to the falcon, in the confusion
occasioned by the fair Julia's disaster, the bird
was totally forgotten. I make no doubt she has
made the best of her way back to the hospitable
hall of Sir Watkyn Williams Wynne; and may
very possibly be pluming her wings, at this present
writing, among the breezy bowers of Wynn-stay.