COURSING IN IRELAND.BY ROBERT F. WALSH.
BY ROBERT F. WALSH.
INthe autumn of last year, I was enjoying a holiday at Rostrevor, in County Down, Ireland. One bright morning a friend woke me early and proposed a visit to the Mourne Park Coursing Meeting.
Two hours later we were “on the ground” in Lord Kilmorey’s beautiful park on the Mourne Mountains. On the road from Rostrevor we had met numberless sporting people, and men, women and children of all sorts and conditions on their way to see the fun. I must say the variety of class that comprised that living stream was almost outrivaled by the variety of modes of conveyances. Everything, from the common “butt” or cart, drawn by an old horse whose visit to the tannery was almost due, to the coach-and-four of the Earl, was brought into requisition to carry these lovers of sport. There were lords and beggarmen, betting men and priests, ladies and work-girls, old and young, athletes and cripples. It was a curious crowd, but most good-humored. All seemed determined to enjoy their drive through the beautiful scenery of Mourne and to forget care while the deity of the leash catered for their wants and amusement. On the ground were collected several thousand pleasure seekers and sporting men, and about two hundred and fifty beautiful greyhounds, well cared for and covered with heavy “clothing.” Some of these dogs, I was told, were worth from $5,000 to $10,000 each, and many of them had been brought from England and Scotland.
On a gentle slope of the mountain there is a large meadow walled in on two sides. One end is fenced, but the bottom is open and partly secured so as to allow the hares to get away from the dogs if they are lucky enough to reach this “escape.” At the other end of this large field (nearly half a mile away) there is a V-shaped fence with several sliding shutters at the bottom. About twenty yards from the point of this V (in the field) is a screen made of branches, behind which the “slipper” stands with the brace of dogs ready to be slipped from the leash when a hare is driven through one of the shutters I have described.
Some days before the meeting, several hundred hares are driven from the mountains into the shrubbery or “enclosure” directly behind the V-shaped fence. This enclosure is about forty acres in extent, and when the sport begins, the hares are collected near the shutters.
When the dogs are handed over to the slipper and all is ready, the “slip-steward” signals to the beaters and opens one shutter, which is immediately closed again when a hare appears. Then begins the fun. The hare is allowed nearly one hundred yards start before the dogs are slipped. When the slipper is certain that both dogs have sighted their fleet-footed prey, he pulls the string and off they go. Picture two beautiful dogs, with straining necks, careering headlong after a little hare which knows they are seeking her death. On they go at almost lightning pace, and as they near the hare, one shoots ahead and makes a drive at the “quarry”; but “puss” is too cunning and suddenly turns from her pursuers. Then the dogs get closer and closer. Sometimes one leads, sometimes the other; but puss doubles as often as they get close to her “scut,” and so the hunt continues until the death or escape of the hare.
The onlookers are breathlessly intent as they watch and count the “points” scored by each dog in the course. Then, finally, madame escapes or one dog “drives” right into her and kills; or, perhaps, in her endeavor to turn from the leader, she is caught and killed by the dog behind.
At the Mourne Park Coursing Meeting, I learned that it was not always the dog which killed that won the course. It was explained to me in this way: The “run up” to the hare, that is, the first dog that “turns” or causes her to swerve to one side or other, counts one or two points according to whether the hare is turned on the inside or outside of the line of the course. Every turn after this counts one point.
A “go-by,” that is, where the second dog passes the first by one clear length after the first turn, counts two, and the death counts one point off the other dog’s turn, or two off the turn of the dog that kills. In this way, a clever dog may often beat a much faster one, as was the casewhen Snowflight won the Waterloo Cup—“the blue ribbon of the leash.” The “Cups,” “Plates,” or “Purses” are all run off in ties. The names of all the dogs entered for each stake are placed in a hat the evening before the meeting, and are drawn out one by one. The first and second drawn run the first course, and so on until the entire number are drawn. Then, as is the case in most games or sports where matches are contested for in ties, the winner of the first course runs against the winner of the second, the winner of the third against that of the fourth, etc., until only two dogs remain. And then is run the final tie, on the result of which, in an important meeting, many thousands of pounds are bet.
The sport seemed to me to be much more exciting than horse-racing. I noticed also that the betting fraternity have much more scope for their “trade” at a coursing meeting than on a race-course. Along the fence were hundreds of “book-makers” placing their bets and incessantly yelling their changes in “the price” of each dog as the vagaries of the hare made it more difficult to decide which would win.
But the principal betting takes place on the evening before the meeting, when the “draw” has been arranged. The chairman (usually a nobleman and president of the club) calls out the names of each dog. Thenvive vocebets are offered and taken, and repeated by the chairman, first at “long odds” on the chance of an individual dog winning the stake, and afterwards on the individual courses. The “long odds” betting ranges from even money on a favorite to five hundred to one against an outsider or unknown contestant. The betting on the individual courses is, naturally, much closer. At meetings like Waterloo, Gosforth Park Gold Cup Meeting, or at Epsom, where the prize for the winner has often been $50,000—upwards of $1,000,000 change hands on the different results. Report says that ten times that amount has been invested about the Waterloo Cup, months before the meeting takes place.
In my description of the sport I have almost forgotten to tell the impression it produced on me. It is truthfully this: I was fascinated by its excitement and uncertainty, and so thoroughly pleased was I with my first day’s coursing that I traveled many a mile to be present at other meetings before I left the Green Isle.
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