THE WILD CATTLE OF CHILLINGHAM.

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume VII, Issue 57, 6 March 1872, Page 4

THE WILD CATTLE OF CHILLINGHAM.

In the St. James's Magazine Mrs. Aylmer contributes an interesting paper on these beautiful animals : — " The last time I saw the cattle (says Mrs. Aylmer) I rode through ChilliDgham with Major (then Mr.) Hughes, a name since made famous by its owner's gallant conduct in the Sarah Sands troop-ship. I was going to leave the country, as it torned out for ever ; he was going to join his regiment ; so we had a strong interest in taking a farewell look at the cattle, especially as we North Northumbrians regard them as the lions of our county, and I believe every man, woman, and child, within twenty miles, to be as proud of them as their noble owner is. The keepers were all away ; but we knew the park well enough to dispense with a guide; and leaving a herd to smoke his pipe at the gate, rode on by ourselves to the brow of the hill under which we had long before marked the cattle. It was an autumn day, close and misty, just enough wind to bring the scent to my horee's nostrils, and make him object to a closer acquaintance with the beasts. Gradually he began to tremble and sweat, and though amenable to persuasion, and having an infinite trust in me he refused to go nearer, and positively turned tail when a bull, rising from the bracken close before us, stood glowering under his fore shaggy mane. I do not think I was really frightened ; I was too much occupied with my horse for that ; but I felt a thrill like fire rush through my veins, and ever since I have been able to appreciate what men must feel facing a lion or tiger, aud so enjoy the description con amore. My friend the bull took a long look, I daresay greatly perplexed by my habit skirt; then he quickly retreated, and gave the sigual to the herd, who made a general stampede, and I saw my last of the wild cattle, as they buried themselves in the great dark pine-wood, best known as the Heronry. At some seasons, especially when calving, the cattle become seriously dangerous ; and it is by no means safe to go iDto the park at all, as the cows separate themselves from the herd, and may be met with in any thicket or valley. Many stories are told of unwary tourists or trespassers coming upon one of these bovine mothers, and having to seek safety in apeed, or more ignominiously • tree'd.' But more dangerous than even a cow is what is called a 'sulky bull,' that is a bull banished from the herd — literally sent to Coventry. The way this is effected is an interesting trait in untamed nature, and the subject of Mr. Basil Bradley's beautiful picture shown in the Winter Exhibition of Water-Color Artists, 1863. He has called it ' The Challenge ; ' it is taken when, ' bellowing defiance, the younger bull, after walking round the herd, stands ready to meet aDy comer. Then the older bull, stepping forth from his harem, answers the challenge, and advancing step by step, the rivals meet, aud the battle rages furious and strong — the herd standing by variously excited. One or two bulls, apparently acting as self-con-stituted umpires, are watching, with heaving flanks and foam-stained lips, the chances of war. Thus the fight goes on, amidst growls of rage, clouds of turf and dust, and the sudden heavy crash as the thick foreheads meet. Presently one of the combatants falters ; then the fight is decided, for, upon the first symptoms of weakness, the umpire, rushing in, bears down upon the faltering bull, and completing the work with his fresh strength, literally bowls him over. As the vanquished struggles to his feet, bliuded by blood, and crippled with furious blows, the herd comes upon him, and overwhelmed by numbers, he is driven forth, disgraced, discarded, and beaten, to hide away in the forest and bracken, until, his wounds being healed, he comes forth to seek revenge in another combat;."