Evolution of the Eberle Champions
Title
Evolution of the Eberle Champions
Subject
Article
Creator
John Schaefer
Source
Hounds and Hunting, march 1953
Publisher
Hounds and Hunting
Date
03-1953
Text
Volume L
HOUNDS HUNTING
MARCH, 1953
No. 3
Evolution Of The Eberle Champions
John Schaefer
We went hunting in the Wayne swamp the other day. We could have gone to closer spots just as good, the Cedarburg swamp or out to our old stamping grounds at Dousman. But the Wayne swamp kept putting out its irresistible call that made me point the car dead north until old familiar Wisconsin landmarks loomed up— then there she was stretching away for miles in every direction. The swamp was a dark smoky—gray color that early winter morning, finally merging into the moraine hills that loomed purple in the background. There was just a whisper of a wind through the willows, tamaracks, alders and swamp oaks.
"Still looks the same after all these years," I mused to myself. "Times change, we get older, but this old lady stays the same." The eager whining of the beagles in their crate in the rear of the station wagon brought me out of my reverie, and soon we were in the swamp after cottontails.
There was a hint of moisture in the air and a light coating of snow underfoot. Good scenting conditions today! I guess I must have set a fast pace through the swamp but I was anxious to see if the old stand was still there. There is a strange nostalgia that brings a hunter back to the scenes of his old home grounds he had hunted as a boy. Sure enough. The old gnarled oak was still there, the rabbit runways still merged past it. Perhaps the oak was a little more bent from the buffeting of the elements; lightning had taken away part of its top but the natural seat was still there by its trunk and from the absence of empty shells I knew that the old stand hadn't been used for some time.
I idly watched a pair of chickadees searching for their wintry meal of willow buds. It was warm in the swamp. As I drowsed I heard Driver make the find, with Daisy and Speedie the derby harking in. Soon their hound music was flooding the swamp. Memories came flooding back to me over the years. That sixteen year old with the rapt expression of a hound man standing over by the stump wasn't my son but myself. And here by the old oak stand was my father John F. And over by the little clearing, wasn't that shadowy figure good old jolly Kirby Koch munching on his ever present bag of peanuts? While away off to the left I seemed to see Fritz Andrae adjusting his glasses getting ready to pull back the hammer of his ten gauge.
Off to the right was Joe Eberle who wasn't interested too much in the rabbit at all but in the performance of his pack, led by the great Panel, a four year old near dual champion, by dual Ch. Seibold's Panel. What great hunts and fun we had!
I could still see Kirby Koch hiding Fritz's glasses, then excitedly guiding him to where an old wild swamp tomcat was treed, all the while solemnly assuring Fritz it was a coon. And Fritz peering up, seeing nothing but a dull blur in the tree without his glasses, pulling back the hammers of the old ten, and guided by that rascal Kirby finally letting drive with both barrels. And the crestfallen look when a great screech went up and the dead tom came hurtling down on poor Fritz's head. What an unmerciful kidding he took!
I was startled by the blast of a shotgun nearby. A flash went through my mind, a tragedy of bygone years. I saw Joe Eberle gather up his little winner Panel in his arms. He had been shot by one of the hunters and died in Joe's arms right then and there in the swamp. I wasn't along that day nor were any of the members of the old gang. I'm glad we weren't.
I came back to 1953 when my son came over toward me holding a dead cottontail. "What's the matter Dad, didn't you see him come by you?" "Never saw him," I replied, nor had I. Guess the day wouldn't have been complete if we hadn't gone by to visit Joe Eberle. It wasn't long before Joe made us welcome. A solid bank of beagle trophies and ribbons lined one side of his den.
"Well Joe," I said, "Ike Carrel has been asking for a story." Joe's answer was typical of the man. "Yeah, Ike's been after me for some time for some ink, but I told him if I was a writer I wouldn't have been in the Tavern for over 40 years. What do you think Ike would want?" Joe asked.
"Well, I think Ike would like especially something on dual purpose and bench beagles since he gets plenty material about straight field trial beagles." "O.K." said Joe. "Fire away. Only you write the story."
Now shift the scenery to a much earlier date.
"Well, Joe, I guess we'll have to go home and breed better ones."
The speaker was John Schuster, the first president of the Wisconsin Beagle Club. The scene was the 1920 Chicago all-breed show. There Joe Eberle was disappointedly gathering up his beagle entries prior to the trip back to Wisconsin. All the way home those two talked. Not about their lack of success, but how they could improve their stock so as to be successful. Neither were satisfied with the beagles of that day. Nor pretended to subscribe at all to the -theory that we don't care how they look so long as they run a rabbit. Both were dual purpose breeders in the true sense of the word, with hounds of the best field trial breeding of that day. Joe Eberle paid $15 in 1912 for a celebrated Fd. Ch. Afton's Uncle Sam who died of distemper, and was replaced by another son of Uncle Sam. Fifteen dollars was a lot of money to pay for a dog in those days!
John and Joe did go home and breed better ones. One day John came down from his Superfine Kennels in Manistique, Michigan, and offered Joe a pup for $75 that he thought might develop into something g 00 d. Joe bought but when it came time for delivery distemper was again making its terrible inroads into his kennels. So he asked John to dispose of the pup to Jack Croy. He went on to become Ch. Croy's Superfine Toney, a very famous sire and standout show hound 25 years ago.
It is to the everlasting credit of these oldtimers that they had the perseverance and sticktoitiveness to continue breeding beagles despite the heartaches and terrible inroads of distemper, which practically wiped out their kennels with disheartening regularity.
Attendance at field trials in those days convinced Joe that beagling had a long way to go. Attending the Western he was disappointed at the lack of search and hunt in those days. Lon Vestal was then cleaning up everything in sight with his Burrfield hounds. When you ran up against Vestal you had something to beat— hard driving pushers, not anchor dogs. Ike Carrel too was doing more than all right with his Shady Shores. Beagling all over the country with his Sheik, Select and Shortboy, Ike even took in the first hare trial of the Snowshoe Beagle Club, up north at Lake St. Germaine near Woodruff, Wisconsin. This club later became the Wisconsin B. C. Joe remembers Sheik as being a pert looking, heavy coa ted , open marked, scrappy little fellow, exceedingly sharp. (Maybe Ike will insert a picture of Sheik as many haven't seen one.)
At the Western trials Joe's resolution was strengthened: To breed a, beautiful beagle that could run rabbit right was his standard.
Surveying carefully his available stock to start on the long road to his goal, he selected two bitches. One was his first champion, Interlaken Elaine, purchased from S. D. Fell, then principal of the Oshkosh High School and owner of the Interlaken Beagles. Sid Fell was the first secretary of the Wisconsin B. C. The other was near Ch. Kishwaukee Cordial from the Kishwaukee Kennels of Reno B. Cole and P. A. Peterson, first at DeKalb, Illinois, they later moved to Wisconsin. Cordial's sire was the English Peterborough Ch. Thorpe Satchville Bellman, still in many pedigrees of today's most prominent sires, both show and field champions. He usually appears as Imp. Ch. T. S. Bellman, imported and brought over by Mr. Fell, who is now retired at Clearwater Lake, Wis.
Bellman won the champion cup at the 1926 Peterborough Hound Show in England in a strong class. He was second in the stallion hound group, competing against 15 entries from the cream of English packs.
In this country, competing with youngsters their prime, he won 13 points in four shows, twice going to best of breed, and twice beaten for this honor by Ch. Interlaken Elaine. He was denied two points necessary for his International champion when an automobile accident resulted in a broken stifle and torn thigh ligaments. Bellman possessed a great deal of hunting ability. He was a black hound, very true to mouth, but competition with straight field trial beagles in America was too strong for him.
Near Ch. Kishwaukee Cordial, daughter of Bellman, was a winner and heavy contender in any beagle show. She, however, carriéd Bellman's black coloring and she, too, was a good gun hound. She was mated first to Imported Ch. Christ Church Proctor. Unlike Thorpe Satchville Bellman he had beautiful tan around his black blanket, white collar and legs. A good gun dog, he couldn't quite stand up to the competition of American field trial hounds.
This mating produced Ch. Eberle's Darkness, a black bitch like her dam. She didn't have the fashionable high tan trim, white collar but had a dark slaty muzzle. However, she had a great deal better type than her dam, Kishwaukee Cordial, going to her show championship without defeat — and became the dam of seven show champions. Darkness was a splendid gun bitch but did not declare herself enough for field trials. She produced some beautiful typed pups that could run a rabbit.
Through Darkness' influence Joe still had a kennel full of black beagles. Hunting ability and type were there, but the preferred American beagle color was not. Searching the field for sires that would improve appearance with black blankets, tan heads, white collars and legs, Joe selected Ch. Delco Master, a black one like Darkness. But why breed black to black to get the tri—colored markings? Joe learned that both Delco Master and Darkness had well marked ancestry with a lot of hunting ability. Delco Master, like many show hounds then, lacked in ability to win field trials. Yet he was a persevering rabbit shagger.
Imagine Joe's anticipation! Would Darkness' litter again be poorly colored? When he could stand it no longer he carefully but disappointedly examined the little bundles of fur, one by one. They again lacked in color. Then Joe saw a little movement over in a corner where he found a tiny open marked bitch. His eyes lit up with excitement. Now this might just be it but it was too early to tell. Weeks later the coveted markings began to appear. Her head took on a rich tan color, maybe a little too open marked but the white collar and three colors were there. Little Lady became a bench champion without trouble. She also became a field trial winner several times.
Joe, by now, thoroughly color and dual purpose minded, looked around for a stud to really bring out the allround beagle. He must breed out the recessive black factor and bring out the dominant black blanket, tan head, tan shoulders and hips with white collar and legs. Hunting qualities had bred true and so had type. The very impressive Ch. Thornridge Toney, a beautifully typed dog, well marked, with superb hunting ability of field trial caliber, was chosen for Little Lady. This cross produced Ch. Eberle's Princess — perfectly marked, very typy. She became a well trained rabbit hound and winner at several trials. Joe was now reaching the goal started for so many many years before when he had attended his first trial at the Western: to breed a beautiful beagle that could run a rabbit right. His long list of bench champions include Interlaken Elaine, Eberle's Darkness, Dream, Elaine, Little Lady, Martin, Princess, Idol, Little Lady II, Trim, Showlady, Blackout, Sapho and Showmaid.
But Joe's greatest success was yet to come. Breeding Eberle's Princess to Ch. Muirland's Micky produced two champion litter brothers, Canadian and American Ch. Eberle's Bomber and Ch. Eberle's Mickey II. Sold to Samuel Granata, Mickey II sired the great Ch. Thornridge Wrinkles.
The evening was growing late, Joe was getting tired and the interview was drawing to close. Still I had to ask the last final inevitable question.
"Joe, what was the greatest beagle you ever bred?" Joe didn't answer right away. "I suppose it was Ch. Mickey II," I went on, "or was it Ch. Eberle's Darkness who produced seven bench champions? Or maybe that male in your kennels now with three wins in the field, or your Blackie that has five field trial wins?"
"Hell, no!" It wasn't an explosive sound from Joe, he had a soft expression in his voice. His mind seemed far away from the room, perhaps listening to the winter wind that swished softly past the window of his den. He seemed lost in reverie, no doubt listening again to that great Panel hound as he came down-wind leading the two couple pack through the vast reaches of the Wayne swamp. Of good old Kirby Koch standing on his stump like some benevolent Santa Claus, of John F. by his gnarled tree with his ever present drop on the end of his nose, and Fritz Andrae adjusting his glasses so as to get a good shot at the rabbit when he came ghosting along the runway. A great bunch of companions and friends — all gone now. And so I knew which hound was the greatest without even an answer!
FIELD CHAMPION
Yellow Creek Banjo
13" Fee $25
By Fd. Ch. Yellow Creek Ben II x Pocahontas Gussie.
A proven producer of heavy boned pups. He is a close worker, quick to claim.
Insurance with Ev Stineman.
WILBAR KENNEL
DR. W. P. SMITH
Phone 33078
Hampton, Va.
JOE EBERLE WITH SOME OF HIS HOUNDS
Top, left — Panel. Top, center — Ch. Darkness. dam of seven champions. Right —
Princess. Bottom, left — Kishwaukee Cordial. Bottom, center — Ch. Little Lady.
CH. CROY'S SUPERFINE TONEY
FD. CH. SHEIK OF SHADY SHORES
CH. THORNRIDGE TONEY
CH. EBERLE'S MICKEY II
HOUNDS HUNTING
MARCH, 1953
No. 3
Evolution Of The Eberle Champions
John Schaefer
We went hunting in the Wayne swamp the other day. We could have gone to closer spots just as good, the Cedarburg swamp or out to our old stamping grounds at Dousman. But the Wayne swamp kept putting out its irresistible call that made me point the car dead north until old familiar Wisconsin landmarks loomed up— then there she was stretching away for miles in every direction. The swamp was a dark smoky—gray color that early winter morning, finally merging into the moraine hills that loomed purple in the background. There was just a whisper of a wind through the willows, tamaracks, alders and swamp oaks.
"Still looks the same after all these years," I mused to myself. "Times change, we get older, but this old lady stays the same." The eager whining of the beagles in their crate in the rear of the station wagon brought me out of my reverie, and soon we were in the swamp after cottontails.
There was a hint of moisture in the air and a light coating of snow underfoot. Good scenting conditions today! I guess I must have set a fast pace through the swamp but I was anxious to see if the old stand was still there. There is a strange nostalgia that brings a hunter back to the scenes of his old home grounds he had hunted as a boy. Sure enough. The old gnarled oak was still there, the rabbit runways still merged past it. Perhaps the oak was a little more bent from the buffeting of the elements; lightning had taken away part of its top but the natural seat was still there by its trunk and from the absence of empty shells I knew that the old stand hadn't been used for some time.
I idly watched a pair of chickadees searching for their wintry meal of willow buds. It was warm in the swamp. As I drowsed I heard Driver make the find, with Daisy and Speedie the derby harking in. Soon their hound music was flooding the swamp. Memories came flooding back to me over the years. That sixteen year old with the rapt expression of a hound man standing over by the stump wasn't my son but myself. And here by the old oak stand was my father John F. And over by the little clearing, wasn't that shadowy figure good old jolly Kirby Koch munching on his ever present bag of peanuts? While away off to the left I seemed to see Fritz Andrae adjusting his glasses getting ready to pull back the hammer of his ten gauge.
Off to the right was Joe Eberle who wasn't interested too much in the rabbit at all but in the performance of his pack, led by the great Panel, a four year old near dual champion, by dual Ch. Seibold's Panel. What great hunts and fun we had!
I could still see Kirby Koch hiding Fritz's glasses, then excitedly guiding him to where an old wild swamp tomcat was treed, all the while solemnly assuring Fritz it was a coon. And Fritz peering up, seeing nothing but a dull blur in the tree without his glasses, pulling back the hammers of the old ten, and guided by that rascal Kirby finally letting drive with both barrels. And the crestfallen look when a great screech went up and the dead tom came hurtling down on poor Fritz's head. What an unmerciful kidding he took!
I was startled by the blast of a shotgun nearby. A flash went through my mind, a tragedy of bygone years. I saw Joe Eberle gather up his little winner Panel in his arms. He had been shot by one of the hunters and died in Joe's arms right then and there in the swamp. I wasn't along that day nor were any of the members of the old gang. I'm glad we weren't.
I came back to 1953 when my son came over toward me holding a dead cottontail. "What's the matter Dad, didn't you see him come by you?" "Never saw him," I replied, nor had I. Guess the day wouldn't have been complete if we hadn't gone by to visit Joe Eberle. It wasn't long before Joe made us welcome. A solid bank of beagle trophies and ribbons lined one side of his den.
"Well Joe," I said, "Ike Carrel has been asking for a story." Joe's answer was typical of the man. "Yeah, Ike's been after me for some time for some ink, but I told him if I was a writer I wouldn't have been in the Tavern for over 40 years. What do you think Ike would want?" Joe asked.
"Well, I think Ike would like especially something on dual purpose and bench beagles since he gets plenty material about straight field trial beagles." "O.K." said Joe. "Fire away. Only you write the story."
Now shift the scenery to a much earlier date.
"Well, Joe, I guess we'll have to go home and breed better ones."
The speaker was John Schuster, the first president of the Wisconsin Beagle Club. The scene was the 1920 Chicago all-breed show. There Joe Eberle was disappointedly gathering up his beagle entries prior to the trip back to Wisconsin. All the way home those two talked. Not about their lack of success, but how they could improve their stock so as to be successful. Neither were satisfied with the beagles of that day. Nor pretended to subscribe at all to the -theory that we don't care how they look so long as they run a rabbit. Both were dual purpose breeders in the true sense of the word, with hounds of the best field trial breeding of that day. Joe Eberle paid $15 in 1912 for a celebrated Fd. Ch. Afton's Uncle Sam who died of distemper, and was replaced by another son of Uncle Sam. Fifteen dollars was a lot of money to pay for a dog in those days!
John and Joe did go home and breed better ones. One day John came down from his Superfine Kennels in Manistique, Michigan, and offered Joe a pup for $75 that he thought might develop into something g 00 d. Joe bought but when it came time for delivery distemper was again making its terrible inroads into his kennels. So he asked John to dispose of the pup to Jack Croy. He went on to become Ch. Croy's Superfine Toney, a very famous sire and standout show hound 25 years ago.
It is to the everlasting credit of these oldtimers that they had the perseverance and sticktoitiveness to continue breeding beagles despite the heartaches and terrible inroads of distemper, which practically wiped out their kennels with disheartening regularity.
Attendance at field trials in those days convinced Joe that beagling had a long way to go. Attending the Western he was disappointed at the lack of search and hunt in those days. Lon Vestal was then cleaning up everything in sight with his Burrfield hounds. When you ran up against Vestal you had something to beat— hard driving pushers, not anchor dogs. Ike Carrel too was doing more than all right with his Shady Shores. Beagling all over the country with his Sheik, Select and Shortboy, Ike even took in the first hare trial of the Snowshoe Beagle Club, up north at Lake St. Germaine near Woodruff, Wisconsin. This club later became the Wisconsin B. C. Joe remembers Sheik as being a pert looking, heavy coa ted , open marked, scrappy little fellow, exceedingly sharp. (Maybe Ike will insert a picture of Sheik as many haven't seen one.)
At the Western trials Joe's resolution was strengthened: To breed a, beautiful beagle that could run rabbit right was his standard.
Surveying carefully his available stock to start on the long road to his goal, he selected two bitches. One was his first champion, Interlaken Elaine, purchased from S. D. Fell, then principal of the Oshkosh High School and owner of the Interlaken Beagles. Sid Fell was the first secretary of the Wisconsin B. C. The other was near Ch. Kishwaukee Cordial from the Kishwaukee Kennels of Reno B. Cole and P. A. Peterson, first at DeKalb, Illinois, they later moved to Wisconsin. Cordial's sire was the English Peterborough Ch. Thorpe Satchville Bellman, still in many pedigrees of today's most prominent sires, both show and field champions. He usually appears as Imp. Ch. T. S. Bellman, imported and brought over by Mr. Fell, who is now retired at Clearwater Lake, Wis.
Bellman won the champion cup at the 1926 Peterborough Hound Show in England in a strong class. He was second in the stallion hound group, competing against 15 entries from the cream of English packs.
In this country, competing with youngsters their prime, he won 13 points in four shows, twice going to best of breed, and twice beaten for this honor by Ch. Interlaken Elaine. He was denied two points necessary for his International champion when an automobile accident resulted in a broken stifle and torn thigh ligaments. Bellman possessed a great deal of hunting ability. He was a black hound, very true to mouth, but competition with straight field trial beagles in America was too strong for him.
Near Ch. Kishwaukee Cordial, daughter of Bellman, was a winner and heavy contender in any beagle show. She, however, carriéd Bellman's black coloring and she, too, was a good gun hound. She was mated first to Imported Ch. Christ Church Proctor. Unlike Thorpe Satchville Bellman he had beautiful tan around his black blanket, white collar and legs. A good gun dog, he couldn't quite stand up to the competition of American field trial hounds.
This mating produced Ch. Eberle's Darkness, a black bitch like her dam. She didn't have the fashionable high tan trim, white collar but had a dark slaty muzzle. However, she had a great deal better type than her dam, Kishwaukee Cordial, going to her show championship without defeat — and became the dam of seven show champions. Darkness was a splendid gun bitch but did not declare herself enough for field trials. She produced some beautiful typed pups that could run a rabbit.
Through Darkness' influence Joe still had a kennel full of black beagles. Hunting ability and type were there, but the preferred American beagle color was not. Searching the field for sires that would improve appearance with black blankets, tan heads, white collars and legs, Joe selected Ch. Delco Master, a black one like Darkness. But why breed black to black to get the tri—colored markings? Joe learned that both Delco Master and Darkness had well marked ancestry with a lot of hunting ability. Delco Master, like many show hounds then, lacked in ability to win field trials. Yet he was a persevering rabbit shagger.
Imagine Joe's anticipation! Would Darkness' litter again be poorly colored? When he could stand it no longer he carefully but disappointedly examined the little bundles of fur, one by one. They again lacked in color. Then Joe saw a little movement over in a corner where he found a tiny open marked bitch. His eyes lit up with excitement. Now this might just be it but it was too early to tell. Weeks later the coveted markings began to appear. Her head took on a rich tan color, maybe a little too open marked but the white collar and three colors were there. Little Lady became a bench champion without trouble. She also became a field trial winner several times.
Joe, by now, thoroughly color and dual purpose minded, looked around for a stud to really bring out the allround beagle. He must breed out the recessive black factor and bring out the dominant black blanket, tan head, tan shoulders and hips with white collar and legs. Hunting qualities had bred true and so had type. The very impressive Ch. Thornridge Toney, a beautifully typed dog, well marked, with superb hunting ability of field trial caliber, was chosen for Little Lady. This cross produced Ch. Eberle's Princess — perfectly marked, very typy. She became a well trained rabbit hound and winner at several trials. Joe was now reaching the goal started for so many many years before when he had attended his first trial at the Western: to breed a beautiful beagle that could run a rabbit right. His long list of bench champions include Interlaken Elaine, Eberle's Darkness, Dream, Elaine, Little Lady, Martin, Princess, Idol, Little Lady II, Trim, Showlady, Blackout, Sapho and Showmaid.
But Joe's greatest success was yet to come. Breeding Eberle's Princess to Ch. Muirland's Micky produced two champion litter brothers, Canadian and American Ch. Eberle's Bomber and Ch. Eberle's Mickey II. Sold to Samuel Granata, Mickey II sired the great Ch. Thornridge Wrinkles.
The evening was growing late, Joe was getting tired and the interview was drawing to close. Still I had to ask the last final inevitable question.
"Joe, what was the greatest beagle you ever bred?" Joe didn't answer right away. "I suppose it was Ch. Mickey II," I went on, "or was it Ch. Eberle's Darkness who produced seven bench champions? Or maybe that male in your kennels now with three wins in the field, or your Blackie that has five field trial wins?"
"Hell, no!" It wasn't an explosive sound from Joe, he had a soft expression in his voice. His mind seemed far away from the room, perhaps listening to the winter wind that swished softly past the window of his den. He seemed lost in reverie, no doubt listening again to that great Panel hound as he came down-wind leading the two couple pack through the vast reaches of the Wayne swamp. Of good old Kirby Koch standing on his stump like some benevolent Santa Claus, of John F. by his gnarled tree with his ever present drop on the end of his nose, and Fritz Andrae adjusting his glasses so as to get a good shot at the rabbit when he came ghosting along the runway. A great bunch of companions and friends — all gone now. And so I knew which hound was the greatest without even an answer!
FIELD CHAMPION
Yellow Creek Banjo
13" Fee $25
By Fd. Ch. Yellow Creek Ben II x Pocahontas Gussie.
A proven producer of heavy boned pups. He is a close worker, quick to claim.
Insurance with Ev Stineman.
WILBAR KENNEL
DR. W. P. SMITH
Phone 33078
Hampton, Va.
JOE EBERLE WITH SOME OF HIS HOUNDS
Top, left — Panel. Top, center — Ch. Darkness. dam of seven champions. Right —
Princess. Bottom, left — Kishwaukee Cordial. Bottom, center — Ch. Little Lady.
CH. CROY'S SUPERFINE TONEY
FD. CH. SHEIK OF SHADY SHORES
CH. THORNRIDGE TONEY
CH. EBERLE'S MICKEY II
Collection
Citation
Anonymous, “Evolution of the Eberle Champions,” The Beagle History Resource, accessed August 17, 2026, http://beaglehistory.org/repository/items/show/62.