This section is from the book "The Terriers. A History And Description Of The Modern Dogs Of Great Britain And Ireland", by Rawdon B. Lee. Also available from Amazon: A History and Description of the Modern Dogs of Great Britain and Ireland: The Terriers.
"Early on the morning of the trials out comes the Squire with his friends and retinue, and the sport begins, the vermin being placed at the far end of the receptacles prepared for them, such as troughs made of wood, with curves, etc, in them, drainpipes of different sizes, all laid underground, tubs, boxes, and a heap of faggots, etc. When all was ready the Squire would give the signal, and an old tried veteran would be let go, a tribe of youngsters being held round and about the entrance, to show the youngsters 'how it should be done.' Up the old tyke would go, and come back with his game most likely, and you would not hear a sound. After this the young ones were tried, either singly or sometimes a brace, the keepers encouraging them, shouting, 'Run in, Bunser!' Buster, Varmint, Tinker, Tancred, etc, etc.; this, with the sharp ring of the bark of the tykes waiting for their turn to come, the yelping, etc, of those who had just tasted blood and were getting punished, together with the bottle and glass circulating freely, made one's blood all a-fire. Some of the dogs came back again quickly with their tails between their legs, others came or had to be got out hanging like grim death to the varmint, both oftener than not having had enough, not unfrequently one or two dead as a door nail. Those that had come out rudder down were never seen any more, whilst the others could not be bought. Still, the Squire gave many away to friends.
"The Squire used to drive in a four-wheel dog-cart about the town of Whitchurch, sitting himself in front with coachman behind, with from three to eight or nine of his favourites running about; and woe be to any cat if they saw it, or a big dog! Immediately they got sight of one or the other, off they dashed in full cry and chase, and if they caught their object it would be hard lines with it before the little varmints could be got off by the coachman and other bystanders. The Squire all this time (having pulled up) would be sitting as erect as a marble statue, turning neither to the right or the left, but anyone in near proximity to him would observe a very broad smile on his face. I was once an eyewitness to one of these 'bits of fun,' as I call it. A miller's waggon was standing opposite a flour and corndealer's shop, and with the waggoner was a large foxhound. The squire came driving up the street, with about a half-dozen of his varmints following, when they caught sight of Mr. Foxhound, when full cry and in at him they dashed; he turned tail and ran into the shop, jumping right into a bin nearly full of flour, that would hold about two sacks, the varmints jumping in after him, when such a dust and scuffle ensued it is impossible to imagine. No smoke was ever so dense, and when all was quiet (which was not soon), and the dogs got out into the street, such a lot of sorry-looking rascals I never saw. These Marbury Hall terriers are now extinct".
There are, perhaps, some other strains of terriers with reputations, whose names have not reached me, and which might be considered worth notice here, but, so far as I can make out, there are none besides those already alluded to, producing progeny so far true to type as to entitle them to a position as a variety of their own.
I may have written and quoted too freely about these working terriers whose names do not appear in the Stud books; my excuse for so doing is the admiration I bear for them and because I wish to do my best towards perpetuating such strains as are most useful for the duties terriers were originally brought into the world to perform.