fowling. He had his nets, his pitfalls, and his gins. But birds will become shy where bushes are constantly limed. The bird that hath been limed in a bush, With trembling wings misdoubteth every bush; 3 Henry VI., v. 6. 13. to say nothing of the disadvantage that the fowler, in order to use his bird-lime, net, or springe aright, must take pains to learn somewhat of the nature and habits of the bird he would take, "from which labour Master Carnifex," Auceps would readily admit, "the shooter of driven game would seem, from what you say, to be wholly free; although, indeed, the master and deviser of the drive doth stand in need of some such knowledge". Hunger's prevention, he would add, is the end of fowling, whereas falconry has ever been a gentle and noble art in the eyes of princes and honourable persons. Further, he would point out that ladies took delight in the gentle art of falconry, especially in the flight of the merlin, whereas it is not to be supposed that they would be present at the mere slaughter by the hundred of innocent birds, although he would readily admit that, such slaughter was excusable, and even commendable, for the prevention of hunger. Whereupon Carnifex would, with some indignation, explain that he did not shoot birds for the prevention of hunger; that each bird he shot cost him four or five times its value as an article of food; that his was the sport of princes, and right honourable, as well as honourable persons; that he wondered how it could be compared to taking of birds by bird-lime and springes; the sport (if it could be so called) of the rabble of towns; that, as for ladies, they loved nothing better than walking with the guns; and, finally, that he would like to see Auceps try his hand at shooting the driven grouse, or the rocketing pheasant. "I grant you," Auceps would reply, "that to shoot a bird flying is indeed more than I can attain unto. I have heard it said of one that he 'rides at full speed, and with his pistol kills a sparrow flying', but I believe it not. But what if he did? Is it to be said of the shooter with the bow who is 'clapped on the shoulder and called Adam', or of the skilful player at tennis, billiards, or bowls, that he excelleth in field sports, because his aim is good? Then should Bankes be the greatest of horsemen, and the dancing-horse the noblest of steeds, because they have attained to do what Alexander and Bucephalus could not? Unless, indeed, it is to be taken that whatever endeth in the destruction of the greatest number of lives, even though it be to the profit of none, and without exercise of cunning or skill (save the mean handicraftman's skill of aim), is to be considered as the first of sports." But whatever were the arguments used by the disputants, we may be certain that neither would have yielded one jot to the other. You may more easily induce a man to abandon the political principles and professions of a lifetime (if you go the right way about it) than change his opinions on matter of sport. Nay, it is easier to turn one from the faith of his forefathers. And so grouse and partridge will still be driven, and, in time, salmon and trout may be driven too, while the angler, stroke-all in hand and luncheon - basket by his side, sits beside some narrow channel through which the driven fish must needs pass. And the same reasons will be given. The fish have grown so wild and shy that they will not look at the most craftily constructed fly. Why, even now, an old and wary trout in an over-fished chalk stream has been seen to rush away in terror from a natural fly alighting above his nose. Then it is so much more difficult to strike the salmon as he darts past you in the stream than when he closes his mouth for an instant on your hook. And some may be found old-fashioned enough to regret that yet another ancient sport has been degraded to the level of a mere game of skill. "And now," said Petre, "for a flight at the brook. I know where we may take a mallard or a duck. But on our way thither we may perchance find a heron at siege. I would love well, Master Silence, that you should see old Joan stoop from her pride of place. Not another falcon in Gloucestershire flies a pitch like hers." And hereupon the Lady Katherine conceived and promptly executed a scheme which the diarist afterwards noted as determining the whole course of his affairs. "For," he adds, "to the readye witte and spirit of that most admirable ladye do I owe all the happiness of my lyfe." Turning to Petre, she said: "Thou knowest the country saying: 'The falcon as the tercel for all the ducks i' the river', by which I understand him that useth it to intend that he would wager as much on the | Squele have on his fist the sparrow-hawk I lady as on her lord. Now, my lord, I chal- had of Master Bert." lenge thee to this contest. Take thou thy falcons and tercel-gentles for flying at the brook, and leave to me the lady's hawksthis cast of merlins. I will keep by me Mistresses Ellen Silence and Anne Squele. Do thou take Master Squele and the rest of the worshipful company, and when we meet at dinner let's see which may show the better sport." "It's a wager," said Petre, adding in a whisper, as he placed one of the merlins on his wife's hand, "whichever may show the better sport, I know who hath the keener wit." Anne Squele took the other merlin, and, accompanied by Ellen Silence, rode off in the direction of some fallows, the favourite haunt of larks, while Petre, attended by falconer and cadger, led William Squele and the rest of the company through the woodlands towards the brook. As the Lady Katherine had anticipated, Master Ferdinand Petre found some excuse for following their party. Attaching himself to Ellen, he left Katherine and Anne free to cloak their meaning by "talking of hawking", like Cardinal Beaufort and the good Duke Humphrey of Gloucester. Not a suspicion crossed the mind of Will Squele. He welcomed the move as relieving him from all trouble in the matter of keeping watch on his daughter. Nor did Silence realize at the moment that the Lady Katherine had brought to the settlement of their affairs that superabundant energy which, thwarted, misdirected, and misunderstood, had brought her into trouble and disrepute in her maiden years. The stream which had fretted and chafed against each opposing pebble became a useful motivepower once its collected waters were turned into a fitting channel-all the more valuable by reason of the volume of force which had been wasted before. Her quick woman's wit had divined that a crisis was at hand. She had noted the attitude of Squele towards William, and the misery which Anne vainly tried to hide. And so she rightly concluded that if she and her husband were to be of service to their friend, immediate action must be taken. "Let's have some sport by the way," said Petre, "as we ride through this woodland. 'I have a fine hawk for the bush.' Here, give me that Irish goshawk, and let Master The way to the brook lay through a thickly-wooded valley, and the hawks were carried with their hoods lightly fastened in anticipation of a flight at rabbit or bird. What degree of success they attained I cannot say. The diarist has failed to note the flights at the bush with the particularity bestowed on the doings of the falcon and tercel - gentle. The flight of the shortwinged hawk, though swift and deadly, is not so attractive or suggestive as the lofty tower and resistless stoop of the falcon. They are not (in the language of falconry) hawks of the tower, or of the lure, but of the fist. They fly after their quarry from the hand, whither they return when the flight is over. To them their master's hand takes the place of the branch from which, in their wild state, they watch for their prey. Most parts of the country are frequented by the kestrel, or wind-hover, and by the sparrow-hawk. The observer, comparing the actions of these common birds, can form some idea of the difference between the practice of the falconer and the astringer. The kestrel, though the most ignoble of longwinged hawks, still possesses the characteristics of its race. It hovers in the air, waiting on until some unhappy field-mouse emerges from its hiding-place, and then it stoops on its victim. The sparrow-hawk, on the other hand, lurches from tree to tree, and having selected its quarry, pursues it in a stern chase, like shot discharged from a fowling-piece, a similitude which was present to the godfathers of the "musket" when they named it after the male sparrow-hawk, the smallest hawk employed in falconry. And so we see that every long-winged hawk, though base and degraded as the puttock or kite, is a falco still, and of the same order as the eagle, that "o'er his aery towers, to souse annoyance that comes near his nest". It is a different creature from the accipiter, or short-winged hawk; and though one falcon may fly a higher pitch than another, as one man excels his fellows in thought or action, yet are they alike subject to the conditions of a common nature which makes the whole world kin. "The king is but a man, as I am," said King Henry to the soldier John Bates. "The violet smells to him as it doth to me; the element shows to him as it doth to me; all his senses have but human conditions; his ceremonies laid by, in his nakedness he | desired for the sport of flying at the heron. appears but a man; and though his affections are higher mounted than ours, yet when they stoop, they stoop with the like wing." But though the eye of the diarist found little in it to admire or to record, there were many who took delight in the flight of a well-trained hawk pursuing its quarry with unerring aim through the thickest bush; and in the days of the diarist, as in those of Chaucer, the keenest sportsmen, as well as the noblest in the land, would often ride abroad "with gray goshawk in hand". The woodland was soon passed, and the hawks were returned to the cadge in anticipation of the great event of the day. Crossing a wide stretch of open country, the company at length reached a long winding valley, where the brook had been dammed up and converted into a pond somewhat after the fashion of the water where the hart was taken. It was stocked with large trout. Towards the end of February, or early in March, the herons begin to "make their passage". It is then their custom to sally forth in the morning to distant rivers and ponds in search of food. Towards evening they leave their feeding-grounds and return to the heronry. The falconer stations himself in the open country, down-wind of the heronry, and as the bird flies over him on its homeward way, the falcons are cast off and the flight begins. This is the sport of taking herons on the passage. It was commonly practised in spring, but at other seasons of the year excellent sport might be had if a heron could be found at siege, and in the hope of such good fortune the company made for the pond. Petre, like Bertram, had a "hawking eye". He quickly discerned a heron, busily engaged in fishing, and half - concealed by willows growing thickly around the pond. He at once made ready for action. Old Joan was a noted heroner. She was never flown at any other quarry, and she had been brought out on the chance of finding a heron at siege. Taking with him Joan and another welltrained haggard falcon, and loosing their With the exception of certain human consciences, there is nothing in nature so marvellous as the elasticity of the organization of the trout, and its power of adapting itself to altered surroundings. It has no fixed principles in the matter of size and weight. Leave it in a rocky mountain stream, and it will live and die among its fellows a two-hoods so as to be ready for a flight, Petre ounce trout. Transfer it to a pond productive of insect life, and it thinks nothing of reaching the weight of five or six pounds. Having attained to such eminence, it devours its less weighty kith and kin if they should cross its path. And so this pond supplied Petre Manor with fish, especially in the season of Lent. When, however, Petre last returned home, he shrewdly suspected that it had been sluiced in 's absence, And his pond fish'd by his next neighbour, by Sir Smile, his neighbour. Winter's Tale, i. 2. 194. Petre's disposition was not jealous or suspicious, like that of poor Leontes, in matters great or small. But he never believed in any of the Smile family. They were, he would say, too sweet to be wholesome. And his suspicions were probably well founded. Now this pond held not only trout fit for the dish, but hosts of smaller fry and eels affected by the heron. About two miles southward there was a well-stocked heronry, separated from the brook by a stretch of open wold. No better country could be (who loved to fly his hawks himself) left the company at a short distance, and dismounting, approached the heron, being careful to keep under the wind, and concealing himself behind his horse. At last the wary heron spied him, and, slowing rising, left the siege. As soon as he had flown a couple of hundred yards, the falcons were unhooded and cast off. Old Joan sighted him at once, the other falcon joined in, and the flight began. The heron took in the position at a glance. The heronry lay up-wind, and was distant at least two miles. He could never succeed in making this point, flying in the teeth of the wind and pursued by two swift and eager falcons. The country on every side was bare, and afforded no prospect of shelter. Driven from earth in despair, he sought shelter in the clouds. Lightening himself by throwing overboard the result of the morning's fishing, he ascended to the heavens in spiral curves, making wide circuits as he mounted aloft. The higher the heron mounted, the higher soared the falcons. This is what the old falconers celebrate under the name of the "mountey". What circles they describe! | There goes old Joan. Turning her back on the quarry, she rushes into the wind for full half a mile, and then, sweeping round in a vast circle, is carried high above the heron. The company can see them still, but it takes a sharp eye to know "a hawk from a handsaw", even though the wind is southerly. If it were north-north-westerly, the birds, carried forward by the wind, would fly between the spectator and the sun, and to tell hawk from heron would be harder still. They can just see old Joan close her wings and precipitate herself with fell swoop on the heron. By a swift movement he narrowly escapes the blow. Meanwhile the second falcon has mounted over both. Stooping downward, she dashes a few feathers from the heron's wing, and drives him nearer to the earth. Old Joan, by ringing into the wind, has more than recovered her advantage, and is preparing for a deadly stoop. The three birds are now nearer to the ground, and in full view of the company, who have followed as best they could, on foot and on horseback, the course of the flight, carried by the wind about a mile from the spot where the heron was found. They are in time to see the finish. Joan's second swoop hit the heron hard. Her mate renews the attack. In a moment Joan is bound to the heron. The second falcon comes in, and the three birds descend steadily to the ground. The falcons have learned by experience to let go the heron as they approach the ground. They thus avoid concussion, and the danger of being spitted by the heron on his sharp sword-like bill. a formidable weapon of defence. But the contest on the ground, which might have been fraught with danger to the falcons, was soon put an end to by the falconer, who seized the heron, and, rewarding the falcons, hooded them, and restored them to the cadge. Then followed some flights at the brook. This sport, in the opinion of some, ranked higher than heron hawking. For, as Turbervile says, "although it (a flight at ye heron) be the most noblest and stately flight that is, and pleasant to behold, yet is there no suche art or industrie therein as in the other flights. For the hawke fleeth the hearon moved by nature, as against hir proper foe; but to the river she fleeth as taught by the industrie and diligèce of the falconer." Whatever be the cause, I can find in the diary no record of the sport, and I must console myself with the knowledge that flights at the brook did not differ essentially from those in the field at partridge, although the mallard, being larger and stronger on the wing, afforded better sport, and, indeed, could not be successfully flown except by well-trained haggard falcons. DR. GEORGE SIGERSON. [Dr. Sigerson was born at Holyhill, Strabane, and educated at Galway Queen's College, Cork, and in Paris. He is a very distinguished scientist as well as a man of letters, is a member of many learned societies at home and abroad, and in the forefront of medical thought and progress. He is Professor and Fellow of the Royal University of Ireland, and President of the Irish Literary Society. He has written on Land Tenures, on the treatment of political prisoners, and on the work of the Independent Irish Parliament, and is many-sided. He is translating the poems of Sedulius; but his fame will no doubt largely depend on his monumental work, The Bards of the Gael and Gaul (T. Fisher Unwin, 1898). The extracts are by kind permission of the author.] Jesukin JESUKIN. Lives my little cell within; Nursling nurtured, as 't is right- Jesukin, my good for aye, Jesu, more than angels' aid, Sons of kings, and kingly kin, Unto heaven's high King confest YOU REMEMBER THAT EVENING. You remember that evening Till the lark sang his blessing. You remember that evening My heart in you!-darling! Come soon to me, hither, low your soft and sweet converse THE RUINED NEST. Sad is yonder blackbird's song, Well I know what wrought it wrong; Such a sorrow I, too, know Well, O bird! I read thy state For a home laid desolate. How thy heart has burned, nigh broke, At the rude and reckless stroke! To lay waste thy little nest Seems to low boys but a jest. Thy clear note called together Sudden come the callous boys, By thy side there used to be O, Ruler of high heaven! For our friends on ev'ry side 'Mid their mates and children bide. Hither came hosts of Faery Woe for wife; for children, woe! I in sorrow's shadow go; Not a trace of them I had, THE DARK GIRL OF THE GLEN. O have you seen, or have you heard, the darling of all delight? In glens of gloom I wander lone, without rest in the day or night. Her quiet eyes distress me, they trouble the heart in me My blessing go before her still, wherever on earth she be ! What songs have sung thy tender shape, the curve of thy graceful brow! Thy small sweet mouth that never, I think, could wound by deceiving vow, Thy hand more bright and soft than silk, or down of the birds above I'm vexed and fretted whenever I think I'd part with the girl I love. So sharp the pang, I faint, I flee, when her presence I do behold, Her glowing cheek, her pearly teeth, her flowing tresses of gold, More bright that sight than Deirdre's self, who lowered King Conor's pride; More fair than blue-eyed Blanaid, for whom thousands of heroes died. O, flow'r of maids, forsake me not for glitter of worldly gain, Unsung, unpraised, unprized it is, but by flattery's noisy train Whilst I would sing brave Irish songs, when harvest nights grow cold, And tell the tale of Fianna chiefs and the warrior kings of old! |