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FRENCH SPORTING DUKE IN ENGLAND. The late duke de Berri, who was devoted to field sports, and an excellent shot, while upon a visit to a distinguished commoner in England, was accompanied to the field by his own maitre de chasse, and an old grey-headed game-keeper of his host's. The latter had resided many years upon the estate, and could scarcely repress his dissatisfaction at the number of victims to the Duke's skill. Repeatedly in the course of the day, upon springing a pheasant, the maitre de chasse, as is usual with the French, would call out Poule! (hen) and the Duke, as a fair sportsman, of course restrained his fire. On the return of the party, the worthy host inquired of "Old John" what kind of shot his illustrious visitor was; to which the following reply was grumbled out: " By the Lord he never misses, and, if he had pulled half as often as t'other Monsieur wanted him to do, your honor would have hardly had a bird next year."

APPEARANCE OF THE LATE QUEEN OF FRANCE, (MARIE ANTOINETTE) AT A Boar Hunt. "It was in the forest of St. Germain en Laye, that I first saw Marie Antoinette d'Autriche. This splendid sovereign was indeed an Imperial model of female beauty rich and royal were her charms, despotic and commanding her lovely form and imposing figure. If a man had but one drop of chivalrous blood in his veins, it would swell in his heart and mantle at the sight of this great and unfortunate woman. She at once struck, captivated,and interested you. Her stately demeanour was all the queen-her soft large blue eye was all the woman. Respect was inspired by the former, zealous devotion was enkindled by the latter, with a kind of a feeling as if a man wished to have peril to hrave for such a princess, and arduous enterprise to undertake for the reward of her smile.

"If Agamemnon ever deserved the title of Anax Andron (the King of Men), or Ney merited the nom de guerre of un brave parmi les braves, Marie Antoinette of Austria was entitled to the epithet of the Queen of Women, and une belle parmi les belles.

"My reader must pardon me for this long digression from the subject of sporting; a true sportsman is always a man of gallantry: and he who boldly risks his neck at a desperate fence, or a blind leap, will be very likely to brave every danger for the Lady of his Love, and to stick at nothing in following the Blind God's chase in pursuit of beauty. To such a one his flame may fairly address the words of the Italian Bard, 'Deh! non seguir damna fugace,' etc.

Follow a nobler chase, and spare the deer, Hunted by cruelty, run down by fear: I am thy captive, Sylvio, follow meAiready ta'en and bound by love to thee.' "But to the Boar-hunt.-The field was numerous and brilliant. The hounds and

whole turn-out belonged to the present Charles the Tenth, Ex-King of France, then second brother to Louis the Sixteenth. It was what was called l'equipage de Monseigneur le Comte d'Artois-carriages, horses, et cetera. By the way, there were then in France a number of what was termed voitures de chasse, hunting carriages, very fancifully constructed, resembling our caravans, and having sometimes a stag's head and fore quarters in front; over which a coachman, all gold or silver lace, and his hair highly dressed, used to take his seat, driving either four-in-hand, the horses all too far from their work, the leaders with very long traces, seldom tight (for these dressy coachmen did not know how to keep the tits up to their traces), or with four horses, the leaders having a postilion with cocked hat and jack boots. Sometimes also the voitures de chasse had three horses abreast; and once I saw one with four, which was very like the engravings of the Roman cars. The nobility mostly went to covert in close carriages, the horses being led, as those of the Royal Hunt of Louis the Sixteenth were, each led-horse being covered with a rich cloth, corresponding with the livery of the owner, and with the family arms, or cipher and coronet, at each corner. The Comte d'Artois's was dark-green with splendid gold lace; the livery being that colour and crimson, laced richly with gold. It had a fine effect in the field, although an unsporting appearance, being more military. looking than any thing else. The Prince of Conde's trappings were buff and crimson velvet, with silk embroidery of the latter colour, in portraiture of the Knights in leathern doublets with the crimson favors.

"The Queen of France wore the uniform of the Hunt, with a profusion of gold lace, and as great a profusion of fine white ostrich feathers in her riding-hat. She was in one of these voitures de chasse, drawn by eight fine English bay horses, driven by a giant of a charioteer of most uncoachman-like appearance-a desperate driver, but a bad whip. The animals went at a furious rate, and her Most Christian Majesty had much the appearance of a Sovereign of ancient times, making a triumphal entry into some conquered state."

EXCELLENCE OF YANKEE RIFLE SHOOTING.

It appears, in the United States Gazette, that Major G. W. Collamer, of Barre, on the 14th of August, 1828, shot an apple from the bare head of Mr. H. Ingram, at the distance of twenty-seven yards, with a rifle. Mr. Collamer then took his turn, and Ingram, at the distance, shot an apple from his head. It was done in the presence of a number of respectable gentlemen, who, after fruitless attempts to stop the parties, had the satisfaction to sce them come off in safety. The apples were so handsomely cut by the ball, that the juice and pomace remained in considerable quanti. ties on the hair of their heads.

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the Peloponnesian war. They had likewise a breed of hens at Alexandria in Egypt, which produced the best fighting cocks; but though it is certain that these fowls, at first, fought full feathered, it was not long before feeders were made use of, as in the modern mode. But, at Athens, COCK-FIGHTING was partly a political, and partly a religious institution, and was there continued for the purpose of improving the valour of their youth, and by degrees became a common pastime, as well as in all other parts of Greece.

On the other hand, the Romans paired quails, as well as cocks; and, according to Herodian, the first quarrel between Bassianus and Geta arose about the fighting of their quails and cocks; notwithstanding this, the Romans did not match the latter till the commencement of the decline of the empire.

It is not positively known when the pitched battle was first introduced into England; we have no notice of cock-fighting earlier than the reign of Henry II. William Fitz-Stephen describes it then as the sport of school boys on Shrove Tuesday: the theatre was the school; and the school-master, it seems, was the comptroller and director of the sport. The practice was prohibited in the 39th of Edward III.; but became general under Henry VIII., who was personally attached to it, and established the cock-pit at Whitehall, to bring it more into credit. James the First was so remarkably fond of it, that, according to Monsieur de la Bodenie, who was the ambassador from Henry IV. to this king, he constantly amused himself with it twice a week. Under Elizabeth, it was not less in vogue; and the learned Roger Ascham then favored the world with a treatise on the subject. There was then a pit in Drury and Gray's Inn lanes, and another in Jewin-street; but the practice was a second time prohibited by an act under the Protectorship in 1654.

It has a strange quick jar upon the ear,
That COCKING-

Such were the words of the late Lord BYRON; therefore, the inference to be drawn from them perhaps is, that the fancy of his lordship was not attached to COCK FIGHTING; but, nevertheless, as the saying is, Lord Byron (it was well known to his most intimate friends) was "fond of seeing every thing that was to be met with in life.' His lordship, it is presumed, did not wish to plead ignorance upon any subject as a man of the world; neither that such a feature had escaped his notice as a person of observation. This, in some degree, may account for his lordship's "dropping in," as Paul Pry would observe, into a cockpit-rather to be a 'booker-on,' as a matter of curiosity, than to partake of it as a diversion. However, be that as it may, we are well assured that sports of all kinds are mere matters of taste, and “one man's meat is another man's poison." The subject of COCK-FIGHTING has been too

long before the public to require any defence of it from our hands, we shall, therefore, merely use his lordship's words as the best answer we can give to those persons who are inclined to be a little too fastidious respecting the above sport:

Some talk of an appeal unto some passion;

Some to men's feelings, others to their reason; The last of these was never much the fashion, For REASON thinks all reasoning out of season.

A Cockpit, like a race course, in a sporting point of view, is free for every person; and selection of company is entirely out of the question. The noble lord, and the needy commoner, are both at home, after they have paid their tip for admission; and persons who enter the pit to sport a crown, bet a sovereign, or to put down their pounds, are too much interested upon the Main, to consider who they may chance to rub against' for the time being. Etiquette has nothing to do with a Cockpit; and a master of the ceremonies would have a troublesome time of it-to keep any thing like order; yet, nevertheless, persons of the first rank in society are to be met with in a cockpit. During the intervals, which occur between the battles, the M. P. may be seen conversing with his friend respecting the success of the Reform Bill in the House of Lords on the preceding evening; and, on the other side of the pit, the commoner may be viewed equally as happy, amusing his pals with a bit of a flash chant just to fill up the leisure time:

A saucy rolling blade am I,

I keep a donkee Dick;

Through London streets my wares I cry,
Up peck and booze to pick.

In Black-boy alley I've a ken,
A tyke and fighting cock;
A sancy, tip-slang, moon-eyed, hen,
Who oft' mills doll at block.

I'm known by all the deep ones well,
About Salt-petre Bank,
And always ready, prigs can tell,
To gig a Smithfield hank.

I'll race my Jack, or bait a bull,
Or fight my doodle-doo;
I'll flash a quid with any cull;
And fly a pigeon-blue.

I'll back my ginger to make a hit,

My fine-my true GAME COCK:
The Swells can't do me in the pit,
I'm down to ev'ry lock!

I'm up to all your knowing rigs,
Ye biddies queer and flash;
I'm company for scamps and prigs,
Sometimes for men of cash.

My moll oft' tips the knowing dive
When sea-crabs gang the stroll;
Unless she did how could we thrive,
And in warm flannel roll?

COCKING, at the present period, is kept up with great spirit at Newcastle, and the recent meeting of Cockers at the above place, in point of extent, exceeds every thing of the kind ever known in this country. Upwards

of 200 cocks were fought, and the fighting generally good, particularly the cocks at Baglin Hill, and Lockey, who all won great majorities. A remarkable circumstance occurred on the Saturday before fighting. A match was made for 20 sovs. between Parker and Reed, feeders, and won by the latter, after a hard contest. Parker's cock, however, came round so much soon after, that his party made a second match, to come off on the following Monday, for a like sum, which was again won by Reed, after a severe battle-a circumstance perhaps altogether unknown in the annals of cocking. It is also calculated that at the termination of the races, which will finish the COCKING for the present season, upwards of 1000 cocks will have met with their deaths. Newcastle may, therefore, challenge all the world for CoCKING.

We need not be told that many persons view Cockfighting as a most cruel sport, and would feel highly disgusted with such an exhibition; while, on the contrary, thousands of characters are interested on a battle between two game cocks, beyond the power of description-lose hundreds of pounds upon a Main without a murmur, and prefer the amusement of a cockpit to the Opera, theatre, ball-room, or any other amusement that can be mentioned :

What is it that impels mankind
To stretch the procreative mind,
By this, or that thing, joy to find?
MY FANCY!

In the Racing Calendar for the year, it will be perceived, that COCKING generally accompanies the diversion of the Course; and also accounts of the Mains of cocks fought at Cheltenham, Chester, Gloucester, Norwich, Newcastle, Lancaster, Preston, Stamford, &c., and that amongst its patrons will be found the venerable Earl of Derby, Sir William Wynne, Ralph Benson, Esq., Bellyse, Esq., and numerous other gentlemen cockers in different parts of the kingdom. In the Metropolis and environs there are several cockpits, but the head quarters of the sport is the pit in Horse Ferry Road, Westminster. The cocking, in London, generally commences soon after Shrove tide.

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We shall now give a description of a London cockpit and its frequenters, with some touches at character by an amateur :

"I was sitting, some evenings ago, in my room, at the first coming of the twilight, which in our Albany rooms is fond of paying early visits--my head was indolently hung back upon the red morocco top of my easy chair, and my hands were hung like two dangling bell ropes over each arm of my seat-and in this position I was ruminating on many things of little moment. I had thus leaned back in my chair, and resigned myself to the most luxurious idleness,-a kind of reading made easy,-when a knuckle, knocking at my door, intimated the arrival of some impatient

visitor-and before I could muster voice enough to give Tate Wilkinson's direction of "Come in!" the tooth of my door-lock was wrenched, and Tom Owen, with a newspaper in his hand, dashed in-and at once stood astounded, with his white hat elevated on his forehead, - admiring my amazing stupor.

"Why Edward! Edward Herbert! Asleep, by all that's sublime! There he sits, deaf to time! Edward, I say! Come bolt up from the morocco! I have news for your two nothoroughfare ears, which ought to make you as lively as an eel with half his waistcoat off! Here," said he, smacking a creased and dingy newspaper, with an air of vehement exultation "here is that which will be life itself to you!" I closed my book-mind quietly, or doubled it up, as Tom would say, and raising myself with difficulty into an erect posture-rubbed my eyes, uncrossed my tingling legs (which were just beginning to wake out of a nap,) and begged, through the archway of a yawn, to know what this very sprightly piece of news consisted of. Tom pulled, or rather tossed off his hat, nodded to me a nod more eloquent than speech, and tipping an acute wink out of the left corner of his little impudent grey eye-proceeded at once to read aloud from the first column of

the newspaper. He pronounced one word with an emphasis the most pointed-COCKING! -and then paused to let loose wink the second, which, if possible, was more charged with mystery than the former,-"cocking !— there Edward!" continued he-" there ! cocking at the Royal Cockpit, Tufton-street, Westminster!-there;" and then he went strictly through a formal advertisement,touching-"200 the main," and "byes," and "feeders" and "gentlemen of Norwich," and "a deal of skimble-skamble stuff," which for the life of me I could not then retain, and therefore cannot now repeat.

"When Tom had finished his formal information, he very readily and clearly, at my request, divested the announcement of its technicalities, and explained to me, that on such a day, being the morrow, a grand main of cocks was to be fought at the Royal Cockpit, at which, for 5s. the head (certainly not the heart), a man might be present. It required little of my volatile friend's rhetoric to induce me to promise my attendance, as I had never been present at any thing of the kind, higher than a full-feathered blustering skirmish of a couple of huge-combed, redruffled, long-tailed dunghills, amid a wilderness of poultry, in a farm-yard. I had seen no clean fighting-no beautiful sparring in silver-no blood-match! as Tom earnestly describes it. I was the more induced to accede to his request of accompanying him, from learning that he could introduce me to Mr. D, one of the principal breeders of game cocks-a gentleman of the most winning manners-and one who could and would

describe to me the characters present, and procure for me the sight of the coops and pens, where the birds were fed and kept previously to the day of battle.

"I begged Tom Owen would by some means get me a sight of any book upon cocking, as I was extremely desirous of going to the scene of war with as much ready-made knowledge as I could, in the short time allowed me, acquire. He said, he himself had a tidy little work upon the subject, which would let me into the whole art of breeding, trimming, matching, and betting, but that he would apply to his friend Mr. D——, who would inform him if there were any more erudite and desirable books on the sport. I gladly availed myself of Tom's pamphlet, and to my pleasure (certainly not to my surprise) he pulled it from his coat-pocket, and laid it down quietly on my table. We arranged all things for our meeting the next day-and it was settled that he should call upon me, and that I should be ready for him by half past one o'clock.

"I moralised in a lack-a-daisical manner, for about half an hour, upon the vices and backslidings of this life, and then betook myself to "The Directions for Breeding Game Cocks, with Calculations for Betting," and passed the evening in cultivating an acquaintance with "moulting"-" clutches of eggs," stags,"- 'long-law," "fighting in silver," and the like :-and long before the clock of St. James's church had timed eleven to the drowsy hackney-coachmen and watchmen of Piccadilly, I was fit to sit "at the mat," and risk my "guinea on Nash."

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I think I cannot do better than treat you, Russell, in the same manner that I treated myself and I shall, therefore, pick my way daintily through the book which Tom lent me (a neat little olive-coloured pamphlet, and writ in a friendly Waltonish tone), and thus prepare you, in some measure, for the cockpit itself, to which, by your favor, I mean to introduce you.

And first, as to the choice of a bird. Observe, Russell, how many points must be attended

to:

As to the exterior qualifications, his head should be thin and long, or if short, very taper; with a large full eye, his beak crooked and stout, his neck thick and long (for a cock with a long neck has a great advantage in his battle, particularly if his antagonist is one of those kind of cocks that will fight at no other place but the head); his body short and compact, with a round breast (as a sharp breasted cock carries a great deal of useless weight about him, and never has a fine forehand); his thighs firm and thick, and placed well up to the shoulder (for when a cock's thighs hang dangling behind him, be assured he never can maintain a long battle); his legs long and thick, and if they correspond with the colour of his beak, I think it a perfection; and his feet should be broad and thin, with very long claws.

With regard to his carriage, he should e upright, but not stiffly so; his walk should be stately, with his wings in some measure extended, and not plod along as I have seen some cocks do, with their wings upon their backs like geese.

As to the colour he is of, I think it immaterial, for there are good cocks of all colours; but he should be thin of feathers, short and very hard, which is another proof of his being healthy: as, on the contrary, if he has many, soft and long, it favors much of his having a bad constitution.

Remember, that a cock with all this stoutness of beak, length, and thickness of leg, rotuudity of breast, "fine forehand," firmness of neck, and extent of wing, ought to weigh no more than 4lb. 8 or 10oz. If he happens to have an ounce or two more in his composition, he is out of the pale of uncivil society, and is excluded by all match makers "from fighting within the articles." A bird, to be a bird "fit for the white bag, the trimmed wing, the mat, and the silver spur,"-must be " high upon leg, light fleshed, and large boned; but still no more than 4lb. 8 or 10oz. Do not forget this."

The art is to teach in classes, and to reconcile as many at a time as is practicable, to their growing duties. It is surely pleasant to be safely instructed how to bring up a chicken in the way it should go. The ama teur writes

"I have heard many persons declare, who could have had no experience in breeding fowls, that they did not think it necessary that a hen should be confined while her chickens were young, and had just sense enough to say, that nature never designed it; but let me tell those naturalists (naturals I may call them), if a hen should lay a clutch of eggs secretly in January, as it is not uncommon for young hens to lay in that month and sit upon them, consequently, if there are any chickens hatched, it must be in February, when if she is not taken in doors, but left to range where she pleases, I am confident that the cold northerly winds and wet weather, which are usual at that season of the year, will destroy every one of them."

The little playfulness in the parenthesis, which is like the flirt of the cock's wing, gratifies me much. The shrewdness at the end of the next direction is, however, of a higher order-it is the cut of the spur. It is curious to observe how man's wit is fashioned and coloured by the subject of which it treats. The very style is cock-like! It is indeed well concockted!

"Be sure also that they do not drink any soap suds, or get to any filthy place, for if they do, it engenders distempers in them which very often turn to that fatal one the roup, a disease for which I have heard many remedies, but never found any so effectual as breaking their necks."

Now. to prevent their fighting from being attended with such disagreeable consequences.

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