Part 16

canum quibus est audacia præceps, Venandique sagax virtus, viresque sequendi.

“In cane sagacitas prima est,” says Seneca in one of his Epistles, “si investigare debet feras; cursus, si consequi; audacia, si mordere et invadere.”

We find nearly a similar arrangement in the Oneirocritica of Artemidorus, a strange visionary of Ephesus, who spent his whole life in endeavouring to solve the mysteries, hidden, as he conceived, in dreams—τῶν κυνῶν οἱ μὲν ἐπὶ θήραν τρέφονται, καὶ τούτων οἱ μέν εἰσιν ἰχνευταὶ, οἱ δὲ ὁμόσε τοῖς θηρίοις χωροῦσιν· οἱ δὲ ἐπὶ φυλακῇ τῶν κτημάτων, οὓς οἰκουροὺς καὶ δεσμίους λέγομεν, κ. τ. λ.

Claudian, in his third book De Laudibus Stiliconis, describing the active co-operation of Diana and her nymphs in advancing the honour of his hero, “Consulis in plausum,” distinctly specifies a triple division:

variæ formis, et gente sequuntur, Ingenioque canes: illæ gravioribus aptæ Morsibus; hæ pedibus celeres; hæ nare sagaces;

and then inverting the order of sequence, names, apparently in illustration of his classes, the Cretan, Spartan, and Briton:

Hirsutæque fremunt Cressæ, tenuesque Lacænæ, Magnaque taurorum fracturæ colla Britannæ.

The first we must acknowledge to be nare sagaces; the second pedibus celeres, the slenderest and speediest hounds, probably, known to the poet, in the absence of the Vertragus,—whom alone we consider swift of foot, and entitled to rank under the class so denominated. The Britannæ justly exemplify the dogs of combat—gravioribus aptæ morsibus.

Julius Firmicus comprehends the whole genus under the triple distinction of “Molossi, Vertragi, et qui sunt ad venationes accomodati,”—meaning to include in the latter periphrasis the whole class of sagacious hounds, as he does the pugnacious under the title of Molossi.

Of Oppian’s tripartite arrangement, exemplified in the portraits which he has drawn of the individuals representative of each class, and of his farther distinction, founded on purity and commixture of blood, I shall hereafter speak; assuming at present, on the authority of the cited passages, that all the more celebrated varieties of the canine race, mentioned in the Cynegetica of Greece and Rome, of the date referred to, may be classified under the triple division of pugnaces, sagaces, and celeres.

In Xenophon, and the earlier Greek writers, we do not trace more than a twofold division into pugnaces and sagaces; the varieties of the latter class differing, perhaps, amongst themselves in degrees of swiftness. Indeed, that they did so is evident from what Socrates remarks of the sagacity and speed of different individuals of the race, in the well-known interview with the beautiful, meretricious Theodota:—ὅτι δὲ μεθ’ ἡμέραν ἀποδιδράσκουσιν οἱ λαγὼς ἄλλας κτῶνται κύνας, αἵτινες, ᾗ ἂν ἐκ τῆς νομῆς εἰς τὴν εὐνὴν ἀπέλθωσι, τῇ ὀσμῇ αἰσθανόμεναι, εὑρίσκουσιν αὐτούς· ὅτι δὲ ποδώκεις εἰσὶν, ὥστε καὶ ἐκ τοῦ φανεροῦ τρέχοντες ἀποφεύγειν, ἄλλας αὖ κύνας ταχείας παρασκευάζονται, ἵνα κατὰ πόδας ἁλίσκωνται. The swift-footed of this passage must not be interpreted as the celeres of our third class, which will be found to contain only the Vertragus of Arrian;—on whose authority it is affirmed that the greyhound was unknown in Greece in the days of the Socratic Xenophon. Probably, they were the most speedy of the Canes Laconici, to which the philosopher alludes—the θάσσονες αὐράων κυνοσουρίδες of Callimachus.

In accordance with the distinctions pointed out in the classical kennels is the threefold character of ancient hunting: but as coursing properly so called, (the third variety of chase peculiar to the Vertragus), was of late introduction in comparison with hunting, the two grand divisions of the sports of the field may be considered as primarily founded on the twofold distinction of canes pugnaces or bellicosi, and canes sagaces; and by Gratius, under the terms arma and artes, both are vividly depicted.

“The one,” says Christopher Wase, “is a desperate and gladiator-like entering the lists with beasts, and assaulting them by violence; which was the school of cruelty and ignorant course of ancient Nimrods: the other a crafty circumventing them by wiles, which is the child of ingenious invention, much assisting man to reestablish him in his empire over the beasts of the field, that hath been so much empayred.” Then, again, he observes, “the magnum opus is bold and hazardous hunting of great beasts, and leve opus is hard-riding and pursuit of little fugacious quarry.”

It was left to the courser of Nicomedia, the Bithynian Xenophon, to place on record in his supplementary Cynegeticus, and to illustrate from his personal experience, the third variety of chase with dogs peculiar to Celtica;—which we have designated as forming a class of themselves, under the title of pedibus celeres, of the greatest speed of foot and least sagacity of nose of the whole genus, running entirely on sight of their game. The Celtic or Gallic hound does not appear to have been introduced generally into the more southern parts of Europe, till after the dissolution of the commonwealth of Rome. He is first mentioned by Ovid; and his style of coursing the hare so exquisitely described, that it must have been derived from actual experience in the field rather than hearsay; which latter alone seems to have given him admission into the Cynegeticon of Gratius, Ovid’s contemporary.

The earliest systematic account of the two first varieties of Venatio, will be found in the Cynegeticus of the elder Xenophon; who describes in the 6th chapter the style of hunting the hare in the mountainous, woodland regions of Greece, with all its poaching-gear: and in the 9th, 10th, and 11th chapters, the chase of deer, boars, lions, pards, lynxes, panthers, and bears. The Greeks were entirely unacquainted with the third species of Venatio, named, for distinction’s sake, Venatio cursoria, as the others are V. bellica, and V. indagatoria.

The animals obnoxious to the chase were suitable to its different varieties, and coped with by classic hunters according to the prowess of each game. Some creatures being timid and fugacious, others of great strength and ferocity, and a third class wily and artful,—the hunters were wont, in the words of Pliny’s panegyric, “certare cum fugacibus feris cursu, cum audacibus robore, cum callidis astu;”—thereby acquiring, in Diana’s school of mimic war, the necessary experimental knowledge for following the flying foe, or contending with the daring, or the subtle, in the field of real battle.

Gratius has elegantly sketched the beasts of Venery in his Halieutic fragment:

Cætera quæ densas habitant animalia sylvas, Aut vani quatiunt semper lymphata timores, Aut trahit in præceps non sana ferocia mentis. Ipsa sequi natura monet, vel cominùs ire, Impiger ipse leo venantum sternere pergit Agmina, et adversis infert sua pectora telis: Quòque venit, fidens magis, et sublatior ardet, Concussitque toros, et viribus addidit iram, Prodigus atque suo properat sibi robore lethum. Fœdus Lucanis provolvitur ursus ab antris, Quid nisi pondus iners, stolidæque ferocia mentis? Actus aper setis iram denunciat hirtis, Et ruit oppositi nitens in vulnera ferri, Pressus, et emisso moritur per viscera telo. Altera pars fidens pedibus, dat terga sequenti, Ut pavidi lepores, et fulvo tergore damæ, Et capto fugiens cervus sine fine timore.

Oppian’s distribution of them into classes is nearly similar:

θηρῶν οἱ μὲν ἔασιν ἐπίφρονες, αἰολόβουλοι, ἀλλὰ δέμας βαιοί· τοὶ δ’ ἔμπαλιν ἀλκήεντες, βουλὴν δ’ ἐν στήθεσσιν ἀνάλκιδες· οἱ δ’ ἄρ’ ὁμαρτῆ καὶ κραδίην δειλοὶ, καὶ γυῖα πέλουσ’ ἀμενηνοὶ, ἀλλὰ πόδεσσι θοοί· τοῖσιν δὲ θεὸς πόρε πάντα, βουλὴν κερδαλέην, κρατερὸν μένος, ὠκέα γοῦνα. γιγνώσκουσι δ’ ἕκαστος ἑῆς φύσιος κλυτὰ δῶρα, ἔνθ’ ὀλιγοδρανέες τε καὶ ἔνθα πέλουσι δαφοινοί. κ. τ. λ.

And in Claudian we recognise a summary classification of the same distinctive characters, adapted to the threefold varieties of the dog already noticed in his poem:

capitur decus omne timorque Silvarum. Non cauta latent: non mole resistunt Fortia: non volucri fugiunt pernicia cursu.

A minute description of each particular chase would exceed the limits of a compendium, and lead me into too extensive a field.

εἴδεα πολλὰ πέλει κλειτῆς πολυεργέος ἄγρης, ἄρμενα καὶ θήρεσσι καὶ ἔθνεσιν ἠδὲ χαράδραις, μυρία· τίς κεν ἅπαντα μιῇ φρενὶ χωρήσειεν, εἰπέμεναι κατὰ μοῖραν;

Let a few brief sketches of the more celebrated suffice—beginning with the hare-chase of the keenest and most accomplished sportsman of the classic ages.

After the snares and nets are duly set, and a man placed to watch them, the first-fruits of the sport being vowed to Apollo and Diana Ἀγροτέρα, Xenophon slips one of his most keen-nosed dogs, σοφωτάτη ἰχνεύειν, the rest of the pack being held singly at the covert. If this finder hit on a scent, a second dog is immediately slipped, and a third, and so on till the whole pack are in full cry after the started hare. The huntsman follows with his pole, and chlamys wrapped about his hand, cheering the dogs, Ἰῶ κύνες, ἰῶ κύνες, σαφῶς γε ὦ κύνες, καλῶς γε ὦ κύνες,—taking care not to head the game—μὴ ὑπαντᾷν· ἄπορον γὰρ—for nobody but a bungler and no-sportsman is guilty of this. It is then customary to shout to the watchman at the nets, Αὐτῷ παῖς, αὐτῷ παῖς, παῖ δὴ, παῖ δὴ—To her, boy! to her, boy! now, boy! now, boy!—the latter replying whether the hare be taken or not. If she be captured, the hounds are called off, and begin to draw for a second; but if not, and they again hit off the scent, the halloo should be Εὖγε, εὖγε ὦ κύνες, ἕπεσθε ὦ κύνες. If the dogs are got very forward, so that the huntsman cannot keep up, but is thrown out—neither seeing them, nor hearing their cry—he should keep running on, calling to every one he happens to come near, and inquiring for the pack—ἦ κατεῖδες ὠῆ τὰς κύνας;

When he finds them, if still on scent, he should cheer, and call every dog by name as often as possible, varying the intonations of his voice. If the hare has made for the mountains, he should encourage them with Εὖα κύνες, εὖα ὦ κύνες: but if they have over-shot the scent, he should call them back—Hark back, dogs! hark back!—οὐ πάλιν, οὐ πάλιν ὦ κύνες: when brought back to the scent, he should draw around, making many casts, (κύκλους,) even up to the line of the nets, encouraging the dogs till they again pick up the scent—αἱ δὲ διαῤῥιπτοῦσαι τὰς οὐρὰς, καὶ ἑαυταῖς ἐμπίπτουσαι, καὶ πολλὰ ὑπερπηδῶσαι, καὶ ἐπανακλαγγάνουσαι, ἐπαναίρουσαι τὰς κεφαλὰς, εἰσβλέπουσαι εἰς τὸν κυνηγέτην, ἐπιγνωρίζουσαι ἀληθῆ εἶναι ἤδη ταῦτα, ὑφ’ αὑτῶν ἀναστήσουσι τὸν λαγὼ, καὶ ἐπιᾶσι κεκλαγγυῖαι—starting off again at full cry.

The watchman at the nets gives a particular shout, significant of the hare’s capture in the ἄρκυς, or her escape by going beyond, or stopping short. If she be taken, they try for another; if not, they continue the pursuit of the same. Weary at length with their day’s work, the huntsman must himself, towards evening, assist the pack in searching out the poor tired hare at her quat, (κατακλίνεται γὰρ ἐν μικρῷ τὸ θηρίον, καὶ οὐκ ἀνίσταται ὑπὸ κόπου καὶ φόβου,) and bring them forward with encouragement; “cheering the meek dogs much, the eager ones little, the intermediate moderately,” till they kill her κατὰ πόδας, at force, or drive her into the nets: and thus at last will the huntsman become master of the hare—“infelicem bestiolam lepusculum timidum tanto fortassè prædabitur apparatu.”