THE OAKLEIGH SHOOTING CODE.
WHEN BONAPARTE petulantly called the English "a nation of shopkeepers," he forgot to add, "with an aristocracy of sports- men." People talk of the tyranny and caprice of fashion, but the sportsman is the real despot. Fashion may dictate certain styles of dress, forms of speech, and modes of behaviour, fix the dinner-hour, and determine the choice of neighbourhoods and places of resort : but it is the sportsman who regulates the sitting of Parliament, the continuance of the Court in London, and the Opening of the Opera—in a word, the duration of " the season." lane} a Drawing-mom or an Almack's Ball in September ! The idea _is ridiculous : but why ? Whence arises the ditliculty to a Munster of "making a Howie- at the end of August, and the nniatleace of our Lordly Legislators as this month approaches, but from the fact that " the twelfth" is the first day of grouse. shooting ? The fear of a troublesome constituency or the hope of Ministerial favour may muster a certain number of Senators bodily, but their heart is on the moors. The state of parties and the fate of a Ministry are matters of less interest to them than the quantity and condition of the birds. We hear of the season getting later and later every year, and some folks will even say that the London winter will in time cease to consist of the spring and summer months ; but so long as grouse are killable in Au- gust, partridges in September, and pheasants in October, there is almost as little fear of a change in the seasons of the world of fashion as of those of the earth itself.
Already is heard and seen the note of preparation on every side. Drawing-room windows show nothing but the gilt mouldings of the closed shutters through them : travelling-carriages full of , ladies and children, with an old gentleman leaning back in one corner—their exterior a shapeless mass of imperials, trunks, and hat-cases—may be seen on all the roads leading out of town ; and waggons are loading in every square. The gunmakers are in their glory: the shooting-galleries are crowded with sportsmen trying fowling-pieces, and the shooting-grounds with Cocknies learning to fire at hapless pigeons and sparrows. The old shots are quietly getting their sporting equipments in order, while the raw hands are seeking for dogs and paying large sums for guns whose only recommendation is the name of a maker that never saw them.
Timely, therefore, is the appearance of the Oakleigh Shooting Code; a manual for the tyro, who will just have time to study it before the campaign cpens; and a book of reference to the veteran sportsman, who though lie may sneer at "book-shooting," as old farmers do at "book farming," may yet condescend to pick up some useful hints in its pages; and at least it will supply the t:.xt for many a discussion over the supper-table when the day's work is finished.
As the Spectator does not profess to bean authority on sporting matters, we are content to indicate the nature and contents of the
book, without giving an opinion of its merits further than this: that it bears internal evidence of being the production of a real sportsman—one who has gleaned his knowledge from experience, who tests the value of theory by practice, and who to a scientific acquaintance with his subject adds a hearty enthusiasm for the sport.
The Oakleigh Shooting Code is a remodelled and greatly en- larged edition of Tom OAKLEIGH'S "Hints on Shooting," which
form part of a series of sporting papers entitled "Nights at Oakley Old Manor-Hall ;" and consists of a string of two hundred and twenty maxims for the shooter, on the choice of a fowling-piece and the practice of shooting, the training and treatment of dogs, and the pursuit and the different species of game, especially grouse. The subject of grouse-shooting is amply treated; and the ama- teur who is a stranger to the moors will find much valuable infor- mation under this head. We extract, by way of specimen of the author's manner, the description of
THE EYE OF THE FIRST DAY OF GROUSE-SHOOTING.
On the eleventh of August the sportsman arrives at his shooting-quarters; probablasome isolated tavern, " old as the hills" (if such a house as the grouse-shooter occasionally locates himself in, in the Northern or Midland counties of England, or in Scotland, where oat-cake and peat supply the place of bread and fuel, can he called a tavern). The place, bumble in character, has been the immemorial resort of sportsmen in August ; although, during the rest of the year, sometimes many months elapse ere a customer, save some itinerant salesman calling for his mug of beer, "darkens the door." The shooter should now go out several hours with the dogs, somewhat to abate their ardour and his own, and to bring theni the better under command. He re- tut ns to (line, or more probably to sup, on whatever the hospitality of the house affords. Whoever on such an occasion is nice about his fare, provided it be clean, does not deserve the appellation of sportsman ; he is no true son of the hills. At the house will be found all the keepers, and tenters, and poachers, and young men from the country round assembled, amounting in the whole to not more than mine eight or ten persons, all knowing ones, each anxious to display his knowledge of the number and localities of the broods, but each dif- fering, wide as the poles asunder, in his statement. Long before midnight, all who can obtain beds retire, though not an eye in drowsy. The retainers lie on sofas, elbow-chairs, or whatever else presents it- self; but sleep is almost a stranger during the night. The soldier before battle, or the minister about to introduce a measure which must either establish his popularity and fame, or oust him from place and all the sweets of office, is not more anxious as to the result of the morrow than is the sportsman on the night of the 11th of August. Sleep if you can, " for, lords, to-morrow is a busy day." Morning dawns, " and heavily with mists comes on the day." The occupiers of benches and chairs arc first on the alert ; the landlady is called, breakfast is prepared, the dogs are looked at—all is tumult, noise, and confusion. Reckless must he be that can rest longer in bed ; " the cootie moor-cocks crousely crow ;" breakfast is hastily despatched; next is heard the howling and yelping of dogs, the cracking of whips, the snapping of locks, the charging and flashing and firing of guns, and every other note of preparation! The march is sounded, and away they wend for the heather and hills.
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