Lord Orford

[Stabs 3]

I've just been re-reading an old book as I was looking for some Dachshund stuff for Leveller, and I ended up becoming engrossed in the history of the Greyhound.

 

Thought some of you might appreciate this small excerpt regarding Lord Orford.

 

Lord Orford took a lot of trouble over the breeding of his greyhounds. He tried every sort of cross, including the Italian Greyhound and English Lurchers – the latter of the same type as you still find in use as “warren†dogs on the big heaths around Thetford. He even tried a bulldog cross. Finally, after seven generations of breeding, he got what were acknowledged to be the best greyhounds of the time. They had “small ears, rat tails, and skins almost without hair, together with that innate courage…..rather to die than relinquish the chase.â€

 

 

He used to turn up at the meetings on Newmarket Heath in the most bitter weather, riding a cobby, broad-backed piebald pony, a cocked hat stuck belligerently on his head, no coat or gloves on, blue and red with cold. He was a great figure, and the crowd loved him.

 

 

In then end he went off his head. His relatives shut him up. Newmarket Heath and its coursing meetings saw him no more.

 

 

The end was sad but rather fine. He had a bitch named Czarina running in trials of more than ordinary importance. You must imagine the crowd collected on a winter’s day, somewhere between the town and the Devil’s Ditch, a sky of bleak and bitter blue, the wind cutting keenly off the Fens. All Swaffham Prior, Burwell, Swaffham Bulbeck, Reach, and the farther watery wastes of Wicken lay glistening in the sun, there meres and fen pools shining in the distance like beaten silver.

 

 

The eighteenth-century crowd, in their rough, fustian country clothes, their heavy highlows, coarse, gay-coloured scarves, and flat-brimmed hats, with their long caots down to their heels, stood stamping and shivering on the heath. A few of the gentry, the local lords and squires, were cantering up and down on their brood hacks. A coach or two was drawn up as a grandstand.

 

 

You can see the coachman, red-faced, red-nosed with his flat beaver hat, his many-caped greatcoat blowing down his nose, wheezing out the odds, rumbling out the praise of his fancy.

 

 

Rough “Fen Tigers†out of the Fens, in round moleskin caps and moleskin waistcoats, their long leather fowling boots drawn up to their thighs, watched impassively, murderous-looking lurchers and ginger coloured ‘’coy dogs’ at their heels. It was just such a rough and tough sporting day as that splendid bit of English country has produced for centuries past. Every man among them had a sneaking thought, a passing regret, for the fine old Norfolk earl who had been the heart and soul of the meetings for so long and now was “shut away.â€

 

 

Suddenly, across the heath from Newmarket, thundered a fat galloping pony, a broad, dominating figure in the saddle, a cocked hat stuck grimly on his head. It was Lord Orford. He had escaped from his family prison, evaded his guardian, jumped on his old favourite piebald pony – and here they were together – master and mount, waiting to see Czarina run.

 

 

A ragged cheer went up. The old boy sat bolt erect on his horse, his face as crimson as of old in the biting Fen wind, no greatcoat on his back, no gloves on his hands. He watched Czarina run her trial. Czarina won. And Lord Orford raised his cocked hat to her, swayed in his saddle, toppled on his back – and died.

[roybo 2,873]

cracking read that stabs must have been some character ,lord orford,

[sighthound1811 6]

would love to have seen the bulldogs he bred into his hounds...

[Simoman 110]

Very interesting

[dave mac 58]

what away to go, good read, thanks,

[chartpolski 23,099]

He also evidentely used Bloodhounds in his crosses aswell !! But the Bulls and Bloodhounds of his day were nothing like the pale imitations we see today !!

Cheers.

[lamp+battery 98]

I've just been re-reading an old book as I was looking for some Dachshund stuff for Leveller, and I ended up becoming engrossed in the history of the Greyhound.

 

Thought some of you might appreciate this small excerpt regarding Lord Orford.

 

Lord Orford took a lot of trouble over the breeding of his greyhounds. He tried every sort of cross, including the Italian Greyhound and English Lurchers – the latter of the same type as you still find in use as “warren†dogs on the big heaths around Thetford. He even tried a bulldog cross. Finally, after seven generations of breeding, he got what were acknowledged to be the best greyhounds of the time. They had “small ears, rat tails, and skins almost without hair, together with that innate courage…..rather to die than relinquish the chase.â€

 

 

He used to turn up at the meetings on Newmarket Heath in the most bitter weather, riding a cobby, broad-backed piebald pony, a cocked hat stuck belligerently on his head, no coat or gloves on, blue and red with cold. He was a great figure, and the crowd loved him.

 

 

In then end he went off his head. His relatives shut him up. Newmarket Heath and its coursing meetings saw him no more.

 

 

The end was sad but rather fine. He had a bitch named Czarina running in trials of more than ordinary importance. You must imagine the crowd collected on a winter’s day, somewhere between the town and the Devil’s Ditch, a sky of bleak and bitter blue, the wind cutting keenly off the Fens. All Swaffham Prior, Burwell, Swaffham Bulbeck, Reach, and the farther watery wastes of Wicken lay glistening in the sun, there meres and fen pools shining in the distance like beaten silver.

 

 

The eighteenth-century crowd, in their rough, fustian country clothes, their heavy highlows, coarse, gay-coloured scarves, and flat-brimmed hats, with their long caots down to their heels, stood stamping and shivering on the heath. A few of the gentry, the local lords and squires, were cantering up and down on their brood hacks. A coach or two was drawn up as a grandstand.

 

 

You can see the coachman, red-faced, red-nosed with his flat beaver hat, his many-caped greatcoat blowing down his nose, wheezing out the odds, rumbling out the praise of his fancy.

 

 

Rough “Fen Tigers†out of the Fens, in round moleskin caps and moleskin waistcoats, their long leather fowling boots drawn up to their thighs, watched impassively, murderous-looking lurchers and ginger coloured ‘’coy dogs’ at their heels. It was just such a rough and tough sporting day as that splendid bit of English country has produced for centuries past. Every man among them had a sneaking thought, a passing regret, for the fine old Norfolk earl who had been the heart and soul of the meetings for so long and now was “shut away.â€

 

 

Suddenly, across the heath from Newmarket, thundered a fat galloping pony, a broad, dominating figure in the saddle, a cocked hat stuck grimly on his head. It was Lord Orford. He had escaped from his family prison, evaded his guardian, jumped on his old favourite piebald pony – and here they were together – master and mount, waiting to see Czarina run.

 

 

A ragged cheer went up. The old boy sat bolt erect on his horse, his face as crimson as of old in the biting Fen wind, no greatcoat on his back, no gloves on his hands. He watched Czarina run her trial. Czarina won. And Lord Orford raised his cocked hat to her, swayed in his saddle, toppled on his back – and died.

 

 

 

that was a grate read mate

[ferret boy charlie 0]

cheers stabs very interesting read but what are coy dogs are they retrivers ?

[J Darcy 5,871]

A top read stabs...many thanks...

[Stabs 3]

cheers stabs very interesting read but what are coy dogs are they retrivers ?

 

That was the one question that sprang to my mind when reading it too.....

 

The apostrophe before 'coy' implies it's a shortening of a word....Wentworth Day mentions the Fen Tigers fowling boots so maybe "Decoy" dogs?

 

The only other thing I can think of is Diddicoy which would fit also in the same context as lurchers

[ferret boy charlie 0]

yeah just don a bit of research it means decoy dog or so the book says

[J Darcy 5,871]

i think they will be decoy dogs...the kind that would weave in and out of wicker panels and lure ducks into huge funnels.

[Leeview 791]

cheers stabs very interesting read but what are coy dogs are they retrivers ?

 

That was the one question that sprang to my mind when reading it too.....

 

The apostrophe before 'coy' implies it's a shortening of a word....Wentworth Day mentions the Fen Tigers fowling boots so maybe "Decoy" dogs?

 

The only other thing I can think of is Diddicoy which would fit also in the same context as lurchers

You were right first time Stabs Decoy dogs were small fox red dogs used by wildfowl decoyers on ornamental lakes, the lake would draw in narrower and narrower covered in by netting the dog was used to draw the ducks in by walking in front of a screen and dissappearing behind the next screen,the ducks would be alarmed by the sight of what they took to be a fox(reason for colouring) they felt they were safe while they were on the water and would follow the dog further up the decoy until the wildfowler would flush the ducks as they passed him further down the decoy where they were now trapped in the decoy due to it narrowing down to what was probably no larger than what a fisherman's keepnet is nowadays

Y.I.S Leeview

[ferret boy charlie 0]

just done a bit more research and apparently they are dogs called kooikahondje or the red decoy dog

[Stabs 3]

Cheers Leeview....thought so given the area and the mention of the boots.

 

If anyone can lay their hands on this book it's well worth a read.

Fascinating stuff on whippets, staffords, deehounds, sealyhams and all manner of gun dogs